animeowy

[sakuravalelp]

Phantom letters - DPXDC PROMPT

The bats wake up one day to the internet going crazy; people around the world were getting letters from they're diseased loved ones. The reactions are mixed, from people being outraged for the "prank" to people crying in melancholy at getting closure.

All the letters have something in common: They're closed with a green sealing wax that had an stylize DP and the name Phantom beneath it. Posts about the cards were using the # Phantom Letters.

The bats are discussing the viral posts in the cave when Alfred comes holding a basket filled with letters, announcing they were left at the doors. The letters had the sealing wax that they recognize from the posts. Checking the cameras they can see how they glitch before the basket appears.

Alfred starts to distribute the letters that had only one destinatary. Letters from each Thomas and Martha to both Bruce and Alfred. Letters from each John and Mary to Dick. A letter from Catherine to Jason. A letter from the Drake's to Tim, and another one to Bruce.

Once they had calmed down enough from the shock, Alfred proceeded to read the shared recipients. From Thomas and Martha to "The grandchildren we never got to meet." From John and Mary to "the family that took our little Robin in." Letters from Catherine to "My little boys family." The letters were directed to people the deceased didn't get to meet.

As much as the mere existence of the letters tugged at their hearts, they decided to not read them until they verified that the handwriting actually belong to the ones it claimed. They checked each letter, and in the end confirmed the letters were in fact from they're lost love ones.

After much discussion, each person makes the decision to read they're own letters later in private, and they proceed to read the ones that shared recipients out loud. The letter mentioned specifics like names and events that the deceased shouldn't have been able to know, including they're vigilante abilities, which had them pause each time to panic a bit. But what was more interested were certain pieces of the letters that mentioned a Prince Phantom.

"Prince Phantom said to don't mention things past our death, but it wasn't a command, so we're hoping this won't be much of a problem." - John and Mary

"I still can't believe Prince Phantom is letting us do this, but I'm so glad." - Catherine

It finally paints the mystery in a more concerning light when at the end of Thomas and Martha's letter there is a call for help.

"We're sorry for ending the letter on a serious tone, but seeing the kind of job you all get involved in, we wanted to ask: Could you please help Prince Phantom? Phantom had asked us to not give information about this, but he's so young, and has already been hurt so much. Please, check on Amity Park, Illinois."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Meanwhile, team Phantom has decided that they needed to get the news about the GIW out of Amity and ask for help. Two problems:

the GIW blocks any technological attempt made.

People might be afraid to learn that ghosts exist and side with the GIW.

As a way to deal with the public image, Phantom opens a possibility that the death have never had:

"All afterlives are open to write letters to their love ones that are still alive today. Nothing that includes threats, and don't go talking about the anti-ecto acts or Amity Park yet, we're trying to ease people into our existence first. Also, I know you all check on your love ones when the veil is thin, but please keep the things you shouldn't know out of the letters if possible. If you want your letter to be sent in the first batch, make sure to deliver your letter before the week ends."

Letters are a good way to reconnect people with the death, they aren't digital, and the GIW won't be able to intercept letters if they're send through inter-dimensional portals. Two birds in one shot.

[cyberghouleo]

bodyguard! simon riley x celebrity! reader

To the displeasure of everyone I know, I got cod brain rot.

Inspired by: Celebrity by Slayyyter

When your manager suggested you hire a new bodyguard after your old one quit, you were not expecting a masked man with an accent to walk through your doors. 

At first, he sees you as a spoiled brat. He’s not used to being a bodyguard for someone famous, he is used to being hired as a hitman in more dangerous situations. He only accepted this job as the pay was good and his last job was nearby, but now he feels as if he's being toted around like a puppy, trailing behind you as you go along your normal day to day life.

Everything was a culture shift to him, he wasn’t used to following his clients while they shop or getting asked if you should purchase something, to which he always responded with “if that’s what you like.” He’s not used to sitting at lunch at a nearby table as your friends drill you with questions about him, questions about the mask and why he looked so differently than your previous guards. He was used to being in stressful situations, spending hours researching his client's attacker while being on alert 24/7, now he was just following you around with no immediate threats happening to you. 

While you're doing interviews or getting your makeup done before a photoshoot, he is sitting across from you in a chair with his arms crossed. He keeps his balaclava on and hardly speaks unless someone tries to deny him access behind the scenes with you. He speaks before you can, “I’m ‘er guard.” he grunts out as he keeps walking past them, following behind you. 

Trying to get to know him felt like pulling teeth, he’s standoffish and when he does answer questions, it's always short answers, even refusing to tell you his real name after you asked. You knew almost nothing about him, but that all changed once you’re alerted that your P.O box is being sent threatening letters, claiming to have a hit out on you. Ghost instructs that you are both to not leave the house until he can gather enough info about your threatener, leaving the two of you alone for several weeks.

These weeks alone cause him to slowly start opening up to you as the two of you have nothing else to do or talk about. You learn about his past clients, how this is his first high status bodyguard job, and his time in the military. He tells you bits at a time, not willing to spill too much at one time, almost testing to see how you respond to each bit of new information you learn about him. During dinner one night, he randomly speaks up. “Simon.” 

“What?”

“My name. Simon.”

It only takes a few weeks for him to track and find the person sending you the threats, and he reassures you that everything will be fine now. He doesn’t show any proof, but you trust him enough to believe him. The weeks you spent together did lead to some tension between the two of you, you are able to see a human side of him that you weren’t expecting, and you could feel yourself getting intrigued by what else you could learn about him. You scolded yourself for thinking this way towards a bodyguard, someone trying to do his job, but you also couldn’t deny the way you were starting to feel when you caught glimpses of his arms flexing underneath the tight black shirts he wore often. 

He slowly starts warming up to you and seeing you in a different light once he spends a few months inside your house. You aren’t as bratty or snobby as he expected. He tries to brush away any lingering thoughts as you ask him to help you zip up your dress, noticing how small your shoulders look under his gaze. Or when you ask him to help you put on a necklace, comparing how small your hands are to his when you hand him the necklace. 

The tension finally breaks when you are in a dressing room alone, waiting around as the photographer goes over the photos one final time before you could leave. You can feel him eyeing you up and down while you aren’t paying attention, his eyes studying the dress you were getting paid to wear and the way it hugged you. One offhand comment from you leads to him lifting you up onto the vanity counter, his mask pulled above his nose as his mouth finds yours, soft moans escaping you. Your panties are pulled to the side as his tongue circles around your clit, one hand pressed against your mouth to quiet you, so the staff doesn’t hear you cumming against his tongue. 

When in large crowds, one of his hands is always pressed against the small of your back as he guides you through the masses, the feeling of his touch lingering on your back even after he pulls away. His other hand resting close to the concealed gun he keeps at his hip, staying alert as his eyes scan through the faces to assess any threats. Crowds will naturally part once they notice how big he is and the way he towers over most of the fans.

The paparazzi gets a photo of you two together, Simon holding a few shopping bags as he trails behind you. The photo is captioned as if he was your secret boyfriend and your fans go crazy, tweeting how cute the two of you are together and how mysterious he was.

“Look, everyone thinks we are dating.” You say as you shove your phone in his face. His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the photo, reading a comment on how good of a couple the two of you are. He only hums a response and rolls his eyes. He expects you to have a different reaction, shocked that you didn’t find it annoying but almost enduring. The idea of you being okay with the two of you being in a relationship and not just fuckbuddies ignites something deep in his stomach. 

You definitely talk him into taking a few photos of you for Instagram, instructing him on how to frame the photo as he stares blankly at the phone. When you post the photos, comments flood in asking if your mystery bodyguard was the one who took them. You often post stories with him lingering around in the background, only fueling the relationship speculation as fans talk about him living with you.

After the media starts to report more on the two of you, Ghost starts getting more offers from other celebrities to become their bodyguard. He gives them no second thought as he denies them. He will get approached with offers to pay him triple and he still waves them off, he plans on staying loyal as a bodyguard to you and you only, no matter how much they offer him.

Simon decides to make the two of you official by gifting you a necklace with his initial, something you wear and post about often, sending your fans into a bigger spiral. He finds the fans both amusing and slightly disturbing, showing how much love they have for you, yet you only get to call him yours. 

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hiii I want to requests a Homelander x Dom male reader that is a super powerful telepath and telekinetic that vought really wants to recruit because of his abilities (especially for his telepathy since they could use the info he finds from mind reading as blackmail) but instead reader refuses and blackmails vought to leave home alone so they send Homelander to kill him but he gets his ass handed to him by reader and is humiliated and turned on from how easy it was to over power him so they end up fucking

This was a long ask lol srry

Homelander/John Gillman x Supe male reader

I just finished writing an assignment with a deadline of today, so im gonna reward myself by writing smut.

You had been made a supe the same way any supe had been created, but the moment you developed your telekinesis and telepathy, you had known a lot more than people thought. You had kept your telepathy a secret for many years, not wanting people to know you could read their thoughts just yet, as it allowed you to gather secrets and ways to survive in this fictional world that Vought had set up. When you became 18 you removed the tracking chip from your body using telekinesis and decided to leave. Your parents, the people who had been paid by Vought to make you superhuman, tried to make you stay, but you revealed how you knew all their secrets and how they never truly loved you. And using your knowledge you blackmailed them into leaving you alone for a while.

They of course went to Vought with the new information, fearing what you would do with all the knowledge you had. In the beginning they sent representatives from Vought to try and convince you to work with them, or to threaten you, but they had no idea how powerful you truly were. You had always been extremely smart thanks to your telepathy, so you kept the true extent of your powers a secret. They believed you could control fire, water, and even make yourself fly. But when you tore apart one of their more violent representatives, reducing them to mere atoms, they finally realized just how much of a threat you could be.

For many years they left you alone for the most part, though they would sent a representative every now and then, even sending other supes or a few times sending Black Noir. When you were in your 20s you met Stan Edgar for the first time, and again they must have underestimated your powers, as he didn’t seem as on edge as others had been. After talking with him for a bit you realized they thought you could only see and hear what they were thinking about at the moment, but in reality you could dig deep into their memories and gather all the information you wanted. So, when Edgar tried to subtly threaten you to join Vought, you dumped some of his most well-kept secrets out in the open, making it clear you’d keep the info you knew to yourself as long as they left you alone.

As the years pass Vought leaves you mostly to yourself, though they do keep an eye on you but never interact with you. But over time your powers have grown even more, so you’re able to gather information about everyone around you, you’re even able to read the thoughts and memories of people on the other side of the planet. Your telekinesis has pretty much made you invulnerable and unbeatable, but you could care less about the game that is superheroes and supervillains, so you much prefer a normal life.

When things with the seven start to go down, Edgar must have become desperate as multiple members die or are taken off the team for some reason. The unstable standing of Vought makes him decide to try and make you work for him again, knowing how useful your telepathy could be when it came to dealing with other people. But when you don’t even read the letter he sends you and instead light it on fire with your telekinesis, Edgar decides that if you wont work for Vought you cant be allowed to exist as you pose a threat to them.

Vought ends up sending Homelander your way, having filled his head with different stories of why you need to be gotten rid of and how much of a threat you pose to Vought and his own popularity. Over all these years you had worked mostly normal jobs, and for the past few years you had worked in an office building as a medium ranked worker. You were good at your job, and if you used your powers to make it a less toxic work place, no one could blame you.

You had just returned home from work, still wearing your suit and carrying your work suitcase, when Homelander landed in your yard. Luckily you lived in a more isolated area, so no one saw the number one hero land as if he owned the place, his hands on his hips and his red glowing eyes glaring in your direction. It didn’t make more than a glance to know why he was there, a sigh working past your lips as you reach up and rub your temple since you had planned on just spending the evening relaxing, maybe catching up on a show you had been putting off.

Homelander could only watch in confusion as you held up your hand in a wait here motion, opening your front door to place your suitcase down inside, working off your jacket to place it inside before closing the door again. Rolling your shoulder you barely gave John time to react before he found himself flying through the air, unable to keep up with your speed and overpowering strength.

John had never been overpowered before, so he did all he could to try and hit you. But even when his fists or lasers hit you it left no damage, which only worked to enrage and humiliate the blonde even more. As if you were finally done with indulging him, you used your telekinesis to throw him to the ground, binding his arms to his body and making it impossible for him to move.

It was when you landed beside him that you really looked at him, having mostly tuned out his thoughts during the whole fight. But it was seeing him laying there, trying in vain to wriggle free from your hold, his hair ruffled and eyes shiny with tears, that you let your telepathy brush against his thoughts with more purpose.

The influx of humiliation and lust was a surprise whilst it also really wasn’t, and you could help but smirk and chuckle, causing Homelanders eyes to flash red as he felt enraged at your laughter. The two of you were in the middle of nowhere, so no one saw you pull John to his knees, using his blonde hair as a grip to pull you whichever way you pleased. It was clear just how touch starved the supe was, as he almost seemed to arch into your hand, his eyes fluttering as he felt the flash of pain in his scalp.

John couldn’t help but buck his hips at the burning humiliation, his eyes growing even more teary as he glanced up at your passive expression, as if he wasn’t anything special kneeling between your knees the way he was. There was something so good about being overpowered, it was something Homelander had always craved but had never been able to be given since he had always been the strongest. But here he was, his arms bound behind his back with a power he couldn’t even see, aching hard between his thighs as he almost shivered in anticipation.

The power of Homelanders want washed over you like a tidal wave, making twinges of heat gather in your abdomen, making your length harden up little by little. The blonde must have smelled the change in your hormones thanks to his heightened senses, a feeble whimper passing between his pouty lips as he tried to press his head forwards towards your crotch, but unable to move as the grip you had on his hair tightened.

The noises John made were nothing like one would imagine Homelander would make, tiny warbled pleas falling from his spit covered lips as he kept chewing and licking at them, as if he was aching for something in his mouth. When he finally let the title that had been in the forefront of his mind slip from his lips you let out a groan of your own, and seeing your reaction Homelander started repeating “Daddy, please.” His voice growing more and more desperate as the lust built in both of you.

The fight had long left Homelanders body, replaced by the extreme need to serve you, to be a good boy. So, when your belt buckle opened without you using your hands, and your boxers were tucked down under your balls releasing your hard length to the cold air, John keened like he was dying. You held him in place with one hand as you used the other to grab around the base of your length, leading it to his mouth which fell open without any issue, John sticking out his wet tongue as he looked up at you with wet begging eyes.

His eyes almost rolled back into his head as he finally got his mouth around you, the hand in his hair loosening as he started bobbing his head in a desperate display. John had little skill in sucking someone off, but he made up for it with the sheer enthusiasm in which he put into the task. Spit dribbling down his chin as he gagged on your cock, his own hips twitching with the movement as having something in his mouth only stimulated him more.

You could see him rubbing his thighs together, stimulating his own hardness as he deepthroated you, tears running down his cheeks as he rubbed his tongue against the underside of your cock. Feeling pity for the blonde you used your telekinesis to wrap around him, feeling like a tight fist wrapped around his length under his suit. The sudden feeling made Homelander moan, the noise muffled by the length between his lips, his eyes falling shut as he started humping his hips as if to fuck the invisible fist around him,

Being as turned on as he was, it wasn’t a surprise that John came quite quickly, spilling in his boxers and the inside of his suit, high pitched whines falling from his lips as he tried his best to keep sucking, bopping his head in uneven movements as his head swam with an orgasm. The feeling of his orgasm washed over you in return, your telepathy making it almost impossible to not feel it alongside him.

Pulling out of his mouth he whined, his mouth hanging open as he finally opened his eyes again to look up at you. John stuck out his tongue as he watched you wrap your fist around yourself, jerking your length as he let out quiet huffs and groans, his toes curling in his boots as he watched you get closer and closer. When you finally came you let it shoot all over his face, watching as some of it get all the way into his messy hair, though most of it struck his mouth to which John moaned. He waited until you were done cumming until he tucked his tongue back into his mouth, wanting to taste you as much as possible.

You both were silent for a moment, both panting to catch your breaths and come down from your orgasms. When you finally released the telekinetic hold you had on John he slumped forwards, having gotten used to not having to support his own weight. You were quick to catch him, helping him to his unsteady feet as he leant against you for support, tucking his head into your neck as he shivered and whimpered.

Sighing you ran a hand through his hair, causing Homelander to lean back into your hand like a cat, you realized you couldn’t leave him like this. You made sure to clean up his face, making sure he was doing okay before you picked him up in a princess carry, kicking off the ground as you started flying back to your home. John could only tuck in close against you, completely having forgotten why he was sent to kill you in the first place because he was so comfortable and relaxed.

[ceilidho]

1800s mail order bride [price/reader] for da wip game

i haven't yet gotten around to writing more of this fic (it's listed as complete on ao3 because i feel like it leaves off at a good place so if i never get back around to it, im fine with that, but the door is still open enough for me to return.

without having given this too much thought, this is what i would probably write if i were to make this into a proper fic (huge spoilers below because i'm basically outlining the entire plot):

after the scene in the sheriff's office, Price whisks you off to the local judge to be wed; this is where you come back to yourself and start protesting and denying that you're the girl he's waiting for

Price then says something about how "if you're not her, then who are you?" and brutally interrogates you about your identity (he thinks you're lying and he's just trying to make the truth come out) but you're still too nervous to say anything about who you are and where you're from because, remember, you just left a city where you killed someone. you have no idea how much information has been disseminated or whether you're a wanted woman. at one point you make up a lie about being "elizabeth smith from Rhode Island" and he challenges that by saying "we'll contact your kin then and have them confirm" (essentially saying you're under house arrest with him / in the town until someone related to "elizabeth smith" telegrams from R.I. or sends a letter)

you never actually give in and just go "fine, i'm the woman you've been corresponding with" but Price sees all these holes in your story as evidence that you are her and he's convinced that "your guilty heart brought you here to me anyway." There's basically nothing you can do to avoid being married off to him.

you're basically shell shocked the entire time at the court house and then on the trip back to the inn to collect your belongings to bring to Price's house.

the first night at his place is rough. you're basically like a feral cat the whole time - still insisting that he's got the wrong woman, indignant and furious when he thinks he has the right to put his hands on you and touch you (Price just lifts his brow at that because like...you are his wife now so really it's a moot point), and locking yourself in his bedroom the second the two of you are home.

Price finds all of this very amusing. he has stuff to do around the property anyway, so he lets you lock yourself in the room for a couple hours.

eventually he does just unlock the door with a key he has on top of the doorframe (you thought you were safe in there but oops nope). there's some conversation about "wifely duties" that has you screaming and spitting at him before he threatens to put you over his knee again, so you clam up and get a bit teary, which makes Price soften. (good excuse for me to write a soft but firm version of Price shushing you and drawing you into his embrace)

anyway, the middle of this story would be all slow, tender sex and you having to get used to being Price's wife while always keeping one eye out for any news of there being a warrant out for your arrest. you get spooked once by a man in town asking about any newcomers (maybe you're in a shop and you overhear him ask the cashier while you're behind a shelf) and try to flee, but Price tracks you down and he's sooooo mad when the two of you get home. like sex is rough that night.

events i'd want to have happen:

someone comes sniffing around town for you (bounty hunter maybe) and you try running away (unsuccessful, but you're mildly reassured when you hear the man has left town by the next day because everyone thinks of you as Price's wife so no one thinks to mention that a woman arrived in town the other week)

there's an incident on a farm on the outskirts of town that Price has to go to - he makes you promise to be good and you spend the next two days wrestling with whether to take the opportunity to leave or not. you end up staying. Price comes back and he's so happy to see his little wife still home after a few rough days of work. probably the first time he makes you sit on his face to reward you.

your luck finally comes to an end when the same bounty hunter finally comes back (your marriage announcement may have been in the local paper and somehow word got to him about a girl matching the description of the woman he's after) and somehow manages to trap you. the climax of this fic is that he manages to get you on a horse speeding away from town and you're heartbroken/terrified/desperate for John but your situation seems hopeless)

John catches up with the two of you and he, uh....deals with the bounty hunter that took his wife from him. before he "deals" with him, the bounty hunter does basically reveal who you actually are, and there's a moment where you see that John believes him. he looks at you in a strange way for just a second and there's this glint in his eye that says "yeah I either suspected this or this is new information to me but now everything makes sense" and your heart just stops because it's the first time where you actually don't want him to know that you aren't the woman that was supposed to be his wife

then he kills the bounty hunter and takes you home :) and he never ever acknowledges what the other man said. because you're his wife and that's all that matters.

suuupppperrrr tender loving sex that night LMAO probably out in wilderness because you're far outside of town and the two of you are exhausted (plus, John just buried this man's body so you had to diverge from the route home for a bit)

at some point in time, a woman does show up at your doorstep claiming to be John's wife. you slam the door on her face.

ok now i wanna write this again FUCKDJGHSJGVSD

[tortillamastersblog]

♕ No Matter What - Part 14 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: major injuries, blood, violence, cursing, angst

Summary: Sick of being toyed with, Lena takes action against her brother only for it to backfire in the worst way imaginable.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

________________________________________________

“Ready?” Kara asks.

Lena nods and squares her shoulders, glancing my way for a second.

I give a thumbs up, albeit a bit halfheartedly and watch as Winn does some final tests on the microphone and camera.

It’s been two days since Lena got Lex’s letter. I have yet to read the whole thing, but judging by how she bawled when she was done reading it I can only imagine what he threatened to do if she doesn’t retract her testimony.

Instead of wallowing in self pity though, Lena decided that she wouldn’t let him manipulate her like this any longer which is why she’s now scheduled for an interview to reveal his plans of overturning his conviction to the world.

I’m not entirely sure this is the right thing to do because who knows how Lex will react, but when I brought it up to Lena she snapped at me.

I was irritated at first, but then she broke down crying again and said she had to do something because she couldn’t handle anyone getting hurt again, especially not me.

“Alright, we’re on in three seconds,” Winn says, joining me behind the camera. “Three, two, one. . .”

He nods and points a finger gun at Kara to signal that the camera is rolling.

The blonde fidgets with her glasses and looks at the notes in her lap before diving right into the interview.

She asks Lena about the breakout first, getting some information about how she found out about it before mentioning the letter.

Lena is tense and fidgets with her hands in her lap, but she’s doing her best to uphold a calm and confident appearance by sitting upright and keeping her face blank.

“Lex is a behind-the-scenes player,” she says. “He doesn’t like to act in the open and often pays people to do his dirty work for him which is why I set up this interview. People need to know what he’s up to.”

Kara nods, looking more serious than I have ever seen her.

She goes on to ask about the possible consequences of this interview and Lena tells her she hopes that Lex will back off for the time being now that the public is aware of what he’s trying to do.

They wrap things up rather quickly, Kara giving Lena a big hug once the cameras are turned off and Lena invites her over for dinner.

She also invites Winn, but he declines politely because he already has plans with James and William. They’re going bowling which is a once-a-month ritual for them and he already missed the last time they did it because he was sick.

The cameras and microphones are disassembled and packed away and within a couple of minutes we’re all making our way out of L-Corp.

It’s late which is why no reporters are around and Winn hails down a cab and bids us all goodbye as Alfred pulls up in the familiar black SUV.

I open the back door for Kara and Lena, waiting for them to get in before closing it again and getting into the front passenger seat myself.

I saw the longing look Lena sent me when she hesitated before getting in, but I didn’t get in with her because three people in the backseat would have been a tight squeeze and there wouldn’t have been much I could have done to comfort her with Kara around.

Alfred sends me a knowing look, obviously having caught onto the more-than-friendly relationship between Lena and I, but he doesn’t comment on it.

There’s not much traffic at this time of night, so we get to Lena’s place rather fast and I order some takeout while we’re in the elevator up to the apartment after agreeing on burgers and fries with Kara and Lena.

They take a seat on the couch, resuming their chat from the car about Kara’s new boss and I excuse myself, not wanting to intrude, and go to the guestroom.

I change out of my work clothes, putting my gun and holster on the nightstand and slip into a pair of sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt.

My back has healed nicely over the last couple of days and I can finally move again without being in pain anymore but there are still some fading bruises.

With a satisfied sigh, I jump on the bed and take out my phone, aimlessly scrolling through my camera roll.

I’m too tired to watch TV or read, so this will have to do.

I don’t have many pictures because after Noah’s death I haven’t really taken pictures of anything, but there are some pictures Lena took with my phone.

There’s a selfie she took with a dopey grin and me in the background passed out on the couch.

I didn’t know she took this and I smile when I zoom in on her face. Her eyes are sparkling with happiness and her cheeks are slightly flushed.

I love her, I think, but before I can bask in the feeling a message pops up.

It’s from my mom and I have half a mind to ignore it, but then I swipe down on it, freezing when I read what it says.

Your dad’s in the hospital. Heart attack. Please come. He was asking for you.

A heart attack? I’m not surprised, that mans been eating as though life insurance is free his entire life.

I don’t know how to feel, but I change into some more appropriate clothes either way and grab my gun off the nightstand.

I slip it into a different holster, fastening it to my belt before grabbing my phone and keys, making my way out of the room.

No matter how much he’s hurt me and how much I’ve told myself I hate him in the past, I still care about him.

He’s my dad for crying out loud, and before Noah’s death we were super close. He used to take me hunting and taught me how to play the piano, but since our falling out I haven’t done either of those things.

“Y/N? You ok?”

Kara looks at me with worry and Lena stops pouring herself another glass of wine in the kitchen to turn around and look at me, too.

Her eyebrows furrow when she takes in my getup and she rounds the kitchen island to tug at my jacket.

I don’t answer Kara. I just wave her off with a forced smile and focus on Lena.

“Where are you going?” she asks softly, fixing my collar before resting her hand on my chest.

I’m surprised by her open display of affection in front of Kara, but when I glance past her the blonde is watching us with the same knowing look Alfred had earlier.

Damn, are we that obvious? First Alex, then Alfred and now Kara?

I shake that thought and focus on Lena, hanging my head and putting my own hand over the one she has on my chest. “To the hospital. My dad had a heart attack,” I say softly.

Lena gasps and cups my cheek to make me look at her. “Oh my God. Do you want me to go with you?”

“No,” I decline quickly. “No, stay here with Kara and enjoy yourself. I’m sure with my hogging all your time recently you have a lot to catch up on.”

I force another smile, also directing it at Kara before stepping out of Lena’s space and making my way to the door.

I don’t want company right now because I have to focus on figuring out how I’m feeling.

I grab my bike from the janitors closet down in the lobby and start pedaling toward the hospital. The air is cold and crisp and makes my skin prickle, but it helps me clear my head a bit.

Why is my dad asking for me? Does he want to make up? Or is he calling me over to tell me once again what a horrible person I am?

I turn down a narrow street when I notice the street ahead is blocked by a construction site and frown when I ride past a black, windowless van.

It seems odd and out of place being parked on the side of the road because no other cars are around, but as soon as I’m past it, I shrug it off and imagine what it will be like when I get to the hospital.

My mom will surely be waiting for me, but what about my dad? Is he in surgery? Is he just waking up from surgery? What if he’s not even alive anymore?

I’m so preoccupied with my own thoughts that I don’t notice the van I just rode past catching up with me until it’s too late.

I look over my shoulder when it gets dangerously close and shout, “Hey! Watch it!”

The driver doesn’t slow down though and before I can swerve out of the way, I’m rear-ended and I fly off my bike, skidding on the pavement until I come to a rolling stop.

My pants and jacket are torn in several places, revealing scraped patches of skin, but what hurts most is my shoulder because that’s what I landed on initially.

My head also feels like it’s about to burst and everything is blurry and I feel like throwing up.

I move to get up, noticing my knuckles are covered in blood, but I don’t get far because a heavy blow to the back of my head sends me sprawling back onto the ground.

I groan and blink in an attempt to get rid of the dancing black dots in my vision, but it’s of no use because not even a couple of seconds later I’m slipping into unconsciousness.

Something incessantly poking my ribs is what ultimately wakes me up and when I move to swat at it I find myself being unable to do so because my hands are bound above my head.

I force my eyes open and let out an involuntarily sob when the pain of being hit by the van begins to catch up with me.

My shoulder aches and I tilt my head back to see I’m strung up by my hands and chained to a rusty pipe. My feet are barely touching the ground which puts extra strain onto my shoulder and makes it hard for me to breathe.

I cough, wincing when a wave of pain shoots through me and look around, trying to make out where I am, but then a harsh spotlight is turned on and aimed at my face.

It’s so bright my eyes close reflexively and I turn my head with another wince.

“Finally! You’re awake. I was afraid Otis might have hit you just a little too hard.” A voice says and I strain to open my eyes again to see who it belongs to.

I almost scoff when I see who it is and let out a defeated sigh.

Of course it’s him.

“Lex Luthor,” I croak, my fingers flexing above my head in an attempt to ease the tug on my wrists.

“So you know who I am,” he says with a smirk, redirecting the spotlight ever so slightly so I can see him properly.

We’re in what looks like an abandoned warehouse. Where we are and how much time has passed since I left Lena’s though is unbeknownst to me.

I don’t say anything and just watch him as he shoves one of his hands into the pocket of his dress pants. The dark three piece suit he’s wearing seems to shine in the low light and I can only guess how expensive it must be.

He smiles wickedly and goes to a rusty table I didn’t notice until now, dragging it across the wet concrete floor until it stands a couple of feet in front of me.

On it, he opens a laptop and connects it to a camera, aiming it at me before he starts typing something on the laptop.

My arms are starting to go numb and the longer I stay in this position the harder it gets to breath, so I grit out an irritated, “What are you doing?”

He looks up for a moment, smirking, before returning his attention to the laptop.

I thrash, making the chains rattle above me before settling back down with a shaky breath.

“What do you want from me?” I wheeze.

Lex finally stops typing and pulls out a phone, dialing a number but not calling it just yet.

“Oh, I don’t want anything from you,” he says. “You’re just a means to an end.”

I frown for a second before it dawns on me.

Lena. . . He’s using me to get to her.

“Yes, that’s right,” he says, watching me carefully. “My darling little sister seems to be quite infatuated with you and because I would never dare to lay a hand on her, what better way is there to get to her than through you.”

I feel physically sick and swallow the bile that threatens to rise in my throat. It’s beyond me how someone can treat their sibling like this, but then again, this is Lex Luthor we’re talking about and he’s not exactly known for being a devoted family man.

The smug look on his face makes my blood boil and I reflexively go to reach for my gun, but I quickly realize I can’t because my hands are still tied and when I glance down I see that it’s not even on me anymore.

Of course it’s not, I think before looking back up to meet Lex’s eyes.

He tilts his head, probably wondering what’s going through my head before sighing and calling the number he’s already dialed.

He puts the phone on speaker and when I squint I feel my stomach drop as I recognize my silver phone case.

I thrash around, knowing exactly who he’s calling.

Dread washes over me, clawing at my throat when a familiar voice answers, sounding distressed, and I have to close my eyes to will away my tears.

“Y/N! Thank God you’re calling. Where the hell are you? I was so worried! The hospital said—“

“Hello, darling sister,” Lex cuts her off, sounding eerily calm and it’s quiet on the other end of the line for a couple of seconds before Lena’s voice, now shaking, is heard again.

“Lex, what have you done to Y/N?” she whispers which makes him laugh.

He clicks his tongue in faux irritation and shakes his head even though she can’t see him. “My, my, my little one, what have I taught you about jumping to conclusions, hmm? I haven’t done anything. Yet. . . What happens next though is completely up to you.”

Silence, again.

Then. . .

“What do you want?” she asks quietly, broken. “Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t hurt Y/N.”

“No, Lena!” I croak, tugging and pulling at the chain in an attempt to get close enough to kick Lex. All I manage to do is flail around like a fish out of water though, slipping and gasping when I try to regain my footing.

“Y/N?!” Lena sounds frantic when she hears my voice, but before I get to reply a stinging pain shoots up my side, leaving behind a throbbing ache.

I yelp and cough, straining to see what happened when my eyes land on a familiar figure, twirling a baseball bat around in his hands. It’s the same man that attacked me over a week ago.

“I’m sorry, but has no one ever taught you not to interrupt a conversation?” Lex chastises, holding out a hand to stop his goon from hitting me again.

I groan and close my eyes, trying not to focus on the pain running through me.

“Lex, I swear to God—!”

“Ah, ah, ah, Lena,” Lex cuts her off yet again. “That’s not how this works. You don’t get to threaten me when I so clearly have the upper hand. Now, unless you don’t want your precious Y/N to get hurt any more, I suggest you do as I say.”

He pauses and waits for Lena’s response which ultimately comes in the form of a whispered, “Okay. . .”

“Perfect, now, the first thing I want you to do is turn on your laptop,” he says and a few seconds go by before Lena says that she’s done what he asked.

“Great, now just sit back and enjoy the show,” he says, hitting a few buttons on his own laptop before turning to me, saying, “Smile for the camera!”

I peel my eyes open and sigh when I spot the blinking red light on the camera.

Not even a second later, the bat makes contact with my side again and I yelp, tasting blood in my mouth when I cough.

“Y/N!” Lena’s voice over the speaker sounds frantic and I shiver, realizing she’s being forced to watch what’s being done to me.

God, we’re going to need so much therapy after this. . . Or at least she will because at the rate things are going, my chances of getting out of this alive are pretty low.

“Stop, it! Please, Lex. I already told you I’ll do whatever you want,” she sobs and no matter how much pain I am in, hearing her crying is a hundred times worse.

“Oh, I know,” he says. “I just wanted to demonstrate what will happen if you don’t.”

I huff and cough again, feeling a trail of blood run down the side of my chin.

Welp, that’s not good.

The thought of my parents cross my mind briefly and I wonder if they think I didn’t show up because I simply don’t care about them anymore.

That couldn’t be further from the truth, but I’m not exactly in a position to prove them wrong right now, so I’ll just have to wait and see how this plays out before I can find them and fix things.

“. . . and now because you’ve decided to share our business with the world, I not only want you to retract your testimony. I also want you to turn yourself in and tell the police you set me up and that you’re behind all the money laundering and human trafficking,” Lex rambles and my eyes widen at what he’s asking of Lena.

“You sick fuck!” I spit, kicking and flailing again before looking directly at the camera. “Lena, you’re not doing this! You’re not going to prison for things he did. You’re not going to prison for me—“

“Shut up!”

This time the bat hits my temple, but because my arms are raised above my head, most of the blow lands on my upper arm.

It leaves the same throbbing pain behind as the one on my side and my whole body begins to tremble. Something wet and sticky runs down the side of my face and my hands are completely numb.

I’m going to die here.

“Easy there, Graves,” Lex warns his goon, glaring at me for interrupting once again. “We wouldn’t want to add another murder charge to your file now, would we?”

The bulky man grumbles and lowers the bat so he can kick at it in front of him

“I’ll do it, Lex. I swear. Please just stop,” Lena sobs on the other end of the line, but I can’t just let her go down for Lex’s crimes.

“No!” I choke out, thrashing around until, surprisingly, the rusty pipe I’m chained to breaks in half.

I fall to my knees, crying out in pain before stumbling to my feet.

I’m breathing heavily, stunned that I managed to actually break free before springing into action.

My hands are still chained together but that doesn’t stop me from tackling Lex’s goon.

He howls in surprise and lets go of the bat when we topple over.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears and an unfamiliar rage cursed through me as I grab the piece of chain that tied me to the pipe and wrap it around his neck.

He thrashes beneath me, choking as his face turns red, but I don’t let up as I watch the life drain out of him.

Before I get to finish the job though, the muffled sound of a gunshot rings out and I let go of the chain with a scream, clutching at my side where it feels like I’ve been hit by the bat again.

I fall to the side, writhing in pain just to see Lex standing over me with my gun in one hand and my phone in the other.

I hear Lena crying hysterically over the phone, obviously having witnessed what just happened, while Lex is just watching me with a mix of pity and disgust.

“I really didn’t want to do this, Y/N,” he says as though he just caught a child stealing candy, “but you left me no other choice.”

I grunt and shake my head, feeling tears streaming down my face.

“Fuck you,” I whisper. “You’re a wretched human being and you don’t deserve Lena.“

Lex chuckles menacingly before turning serious within a split second. He drops my phone and kneels beside my head, yanking at my hair so I’m forced to look at him.

“And you’re a nobody,” he says calmly. “Lena might be completely infatuated with you right now, but in time she’ll realize how pathetic you actually are.

“I know more about you than you think. You got your brother killed and for the last year you’ve been wallowing in self pity because of it. Oh, and you’re poor, let’s not forget about that. No one likes a charity case.”

My chest tightens painfully and I gather whatever strength I have left in me to spit in his face.

He freezes before letting go of my hair to wipe the saliva off his face. Then he gets back to his feet.

For a second I think he’s heading back to the computer to turn off the live feed, but then he spins back around with a menacing howl and starts kicking me in the stomach.

I sob and try to protect myself with my still bound hands but it’s of no use.

Every time his foot buries itself in my stomach the breath gets knocked out of me until I’m on the brink of passing out.

He stops as quickly as he started and smooths out his suit, making sure his cuff links are still in place.

“You know what to do, Lena,” he says, waving at the camera on the table. “If you don’t I’m letting Y/N bleed out, so you better be quick about it because there’s not much time left until it’s too late.”

I don’t hear Lena’s reply over the phone because it feels like I’m floating and everything is muffled, but I manage to drag myself forward the tiniest bit to whisper, “I’m sorry, Lena. I love you,” into the phone before passing out.

________________________________________________

Oops. Are we dead? I honestly don’t know yet. . .

*Not proofread yet

Tag list: @nerethos @orange15quote @nuianced-tck-enby @autorasexy @unexpected-character @nothisismax @wandatasha

[rhiannswork]

Omg Miguel ohara x drunk reader would be amazing thxxx

m. o’hara || “bar.” read 21:56

a/n: i was writing this @ an airport so i didn’t wanna spend time trying to think about any astronomical prodigious voluminous colossal words or trying to make this oneshot poetic or anything. enjoy! p.s. i’ve never gotten drunk before i’ve only gotten high so 💀

warnings: drunk, mentions of vomit, mentions of being kidnapped, that’s it i think

BUZZ BUZZ you felt your phone vibrate in your bra. your vision was slightly disoriented so it took you a couple of tries to even get in your phone. you saw the message notification from miguel, asking for a pin of your current location.

you believed that providing him with your location directly would be simpler than sending a pin to help him find you.

you adeptly typed, stringing together words that even shakespeare might envy, utilizing every term in the dictionary. your hands, experiencing cramps in the process. ‘bar.’

on miguel's side, he was nearly pacing back and forth, expecting a ransom letter from your kidnapper or some substantial information, and all he received was that brief message.

‘which one, cariño?’

you sighed as he couldn’t understand where you were. it was pretty plain and simple. you gave in and sent a pin. after that, you really don’t remember what was going on.

you came back to reality, found yourself laid in the back of miguel’s car. hozier quietly flowing out of the speakers. “this car is so nice, miggy…” you spoke with your face almost mushed in the seat.

"yeah?" miguel’s soft chuckle resonated, his deep voice nearly rendering him incomprehensible. "yeah," you responded, sharing a giggle with him.

“try not to be sick in here then, okay? we just have a few minutes left ‘til we get home.” you hummed as a reply, drifting away from reality once more.

you heard the car door open, your glossy eyes looking up at miguel’s tall figure. miguel swooped you up from the back. it was too fast for you. “don’t feel so good miggy.”

in a state of panic, miguel felt unsure of what to do next. should he quickly run to the bathroom? no, that’s what had triggered this situation. his gaze shifted to the trash bins in your garage, contemplating an alternative solution.

he walked over to them and popped the lid up, thankfully, trash day was that morning so there was no trash in the bin. he would still have to clean it out though.

your body never reacted well to alcohol, it always resulted to vomiting somewhere other than the restroom. this time, the victim was the roll bin.

"there you go, good girl," miguel comfortingly rubbed your back as you still felt a bit lightheaded and dehydrated. "i’m thirsty, miggy," you murmured, leaning your head back against his chest.

"alright, let's get you some water, baby," miguel said gently as he lifted you up, holding you in a swaddled manner. you rested your head on his chest and patiently waited as he carried you into the kitchen.

"put me on the countertop, it's cold," you instructed, pointing to the island counter. his laughter resonated through his chest as he carefully set you down on the cool surface. the cold marble sent a shiver through your backside.

miguel walked to the refrigerator, retrieved a bottle of water and a container filled with grapes. "here," he offered, handing you the water and keeping a watchful eye as you took sips.

you paused your drinking and set the water beside you. "nah uh, i want you to finish all of that before you eat these grapes," miguel insisted, his tone firm. he proceeded to wash the grapes and place them in a bowl.

with a groan, you chugged the remaining water in the bottle. "now the grapes, please...?" you requested, opening your mouth and patiently awaiting for miguel to feed you.

"of course, princess y/n," he replied with a smile, placing a grape in your mouth. you chewed with a content smile on your face.

[slytherinshua]

PERFECT REUNIONS

genre. fluff. hurt/comfort. warnings. a lot of crying and a lot of kissing lol. spoilers for aos s1 finale/s2 ep1 ig... but also not rly like idkkkk??? pairing. seo yul x fem!reader. wc. 1.5k. a/n. for @candewlsy my lovely and skdjks pls this fic had me sobbing and giggling while writing im low-key obsessed (and maybe back in my aos/yul era.)

“What!? He’s back?!” Your eyes widened and you practically bounced up at hearing the words from one of the servants. You had barely even heard the name of your lover since he had left 3 years ago, and after a couple of months, you had even stopped receiving letters despite his promise to you that he would keep sending them.

You were already rushing out of the house the second you processed the words. “Ma’am, I have been informed that Young Master Seo Yul is staying at Chwiseonru. He arrived this afternoon.”

It was already dark out and entirely improper for you to be travelling alone at this time, but you felt like you didn’t have a single second to spare to call for Eunju, your maid. It took 20 minutes to get to Chwiseonru from your family’s home, but with your hurried steps, you made it in half the time. Juwol knew you well and already could tell what had brought you here from your slight panting as you struggled to catch your breath.

“Y/n! You’re out so late? Without Eunju?” She sounded concerned, but she understood your urgency. There had barely been a mention of Yul after the chaos at Choyeon’s wedding 3 years ago. You had been too preoccupied with helping your best friend through her mourning and anger to even say a proper goodbye to him. 

Now that things were as back to normal as they could get, you were desperate to see the face you had longed for every night and day for so long. Juwol didn’t dawdle any longer before disclosing which room Yul was staying in, and you were quick to rush up the stairs and down the hall.

Standing in front of the door, you were hit with a sudden nervousness. You had been separated for so long, but now were only a room apart. It only took one push for you to see his face again. His beautiful face that you had missed so much.

But doubt filled you as you stalled there, standing just outside like the fool you were. What if he had forgotten you? What if he had found someone else in his time away? What if he didn’t want to see you?

But you shook all your thoughts aside and with your last bit of courage, knocked softly on the door.

“Yes?”

Your heart raced at the sound of his voice, and it suddenly all felt a little more real. He really was back. He was just behind this door. You pushed it open a little shakily, feeling almost as if you couldn’t breathe as you watched his eyes look up to meet yours.

He was dressed in a simple light purple set of hanbok and his hair was maybe a little longer than you had last seen, his eyes a little more worn with experience. They held a drowsiness which you knew all too well, and with a quick glance at the table he sat at, you acknowledged the bottle of wine he had been drinking. 

His eyes widened as soon as he saw you, and you swore they even brightened upon seeing your face. He stood up quickly, but he was clearly very drunk, and he stumbled a bit. You rushed over to him like it was second nature, steadying him before he could trip.

“I-I’m not dreaming, right? I-It’s really you, right?” He spoke softly, his words slurring together slightly as a result of the alcohol. His hands gripped at your arms to keep from falling, and your heart nearly shattered at his question. His voice was filled with hurt, but unmistakable hope as well, and all you could do was nod your head fervently at first.

“You’re not dreaming… It’s me.” You whispered with a sob. You finally gave up trying to keep you both standing, and sunk to the floor slowly, tears already slipping out and down your cheeks.

Yul was no more collected than you. Whether it was the alcohol or just the result of seeing you, you weren’t sure; but his eyebrows fell, and his lip began to tremble, and before too long, he was weeping silently in your arms as well. 

That’s how you stayed for several minutes. Both of you were too emotional to say anything without breaking down halfway through the sentence, so you just stayed in his arms, sobbing into his chest as he pulled you ever closer, his tears dripping down onto the silk of your dress.

It took a while for you to recover, but eventually, you did. You took a shaky breath, gathering enough energy to be the first one to speak. And even though you could talk without being reduced to tears halfway through, your words were still shaky with emotion.

“Why did you drink alone? You should’ve invited me…” You looked up at him and offered a sad smile. He tried to return it, but couldn’t quite. He shut his eyes as another tear slipped out. You reached out silently and brushed it off his cheek, leaving your hand there to cup his warm skin. He leaned into your touch and it seemed to ground him enough to find the words he wanted.

“I know I should’ve told you that I was returning… But I was scared.” He opened his eyes and met your loving gaze with his sorrowful one. “A few months after I left, I found out some of my letters had been intercepted by my father. I realized you must’ve thought that I… moved on from you.”

He looked down for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He was somehow so well-spoken even while drunk. You weren’t sure what you had expected, though. He was Seo Yul, after all. You hadn’t realized just how much you had missed him.

“Y/n.” He said softly. You smiled. Hearing your name from his lips was all you had longed for for those 3 years. “I have so much to tell you, and even more that I want to ask. But first… How have you been, my love?” He smiled gently, finally being able to call you that after so long.

You were quickly able to catch up with your lover. He told you about everything that had happened back home while you shared the rest of the wine. You didn’t have much to tell him. Most of the time he had been away from you had been spent at home, with you thinking of rarely anything but him. 

You found out that he hadn’t stopped writing letters to you, he had just stopped sending them. He had even brought them with him, but he refused to show you. They were useless now that he had you back.

In some ways it still felt like a dream that he was here. Yet it couldn’t be a dream because you felt his arms around you, hugging you as close as humanly possible. It still didn’t feel close enough for either of you, though.

As he talked, you couldn’t help but press more and more kisses to any skin you could access— his neck, his jaw, his cheek, and even his lips. He allowed you to cut off his sentences to kiss you instead. You had 3 years to make up for, after all.

It felt too perfect to be kissing him, to feel his soft lips against yours, and to feel the relief that you didn’t have to stop or say goodbye. He was here and he was yours. 

And with that thought, you kissed him as if there was no tomorrow. You wanted to savour the moment for as long as possible, so even when you had to pull apart to catch your breath, it was never too long before your lips found their way to his again. It was after you pulled apart for the 3rd or 4th time that Yul spoke up.

“Y/n… marry me.”

You were taken aback at his sudden words. It didn’t even really sound like a question, because he already knew your answer. He was firm in the statement, determined even, and you smiled wider than you had ever had before.

You nodded at him with shiny eyes, watching in awe as his lips curved up into a smile, eyes almost overflowing with his love for you. You laughed and kissed him again. You knew he would probably ask you again the next day when he was sober because “nothing counts when you’re drunk”, and that you would say yes again to that as well. It brought a warm feeling to your chest. You really couldn’t think of a time that you were happier than in the current moment. 

Everything felt so good and right and perfect. That’s what Yul was to you in every way. 

Absolutely, unmistakably, decidedly perfect.

↳ k-drama taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @tempobaekh,, @candewlsy

[otteranha]

Insidious is the word Eddie would use for the letters that come in the mail, first to the trailer then later to their various shabby, wonderful apartments. Steve feels it even if he doesn’t have the same vast vocabulary that Eddie does, insidious is what the letters feel like.

One way plane ticket to join them in Palm Springs, with a series of college applications folded up underneath.

A brochure for a backpacking trip across Europe and his mother describing how their friend’s children had also taken gap years before they got their shit act together.

They invite him for Christmas in New York. There’s informational materials on Fordham University and NYU, but at least this time they haven’t actually started filling out applications for him.

A FedEx arrives with the a lift badge and a key to the ski lodge they’re staying at in Vale. Photos of the beautiful scenery and incidentally the beautiful daughters of their friends on the slopes.

Eddie sees them like an octopus, a kraken, endlessly reaching out arms to pull Steve back into the life they wanted him to have. He knows Steve loves him, loves their life together, but they always leave him in a weird, empty mood. It keeps Eddie awake at night thinking of the next plane ticket to come. How dare they? How dare they? They’d all but disappeared after Steve graduated from high school, the silent treatment for not getting into college, for not trying to get into college. Then turned him out completely when they found out about him and Eddie, not knowing if their son, their injured, traumatized son would have a roof over his head. Because they always thought he’d come crawling back, lesson learned, ready to dance their little dance. He thinks But that didn’t happen and now they’re starting to worry, they’re starting to sweat that they won’t have junior to join the family business, they won’t have the perfect daughter-in-law to criticize and the 2.5 grandkids to show off, they’re starting to worry about the Harrington family name.

It’s not fair to Steve because he always, always throws the letters in the trash. He doesn’t even open them if he can tell from the envelope who they’re from but it’s not always obvious, and he’s a smidge paranoid about missing a bill. Eddie opens them all out of morbid curiosity. He knows it’s not good for him, not good for them that it’s just fueling his own fear and thick, bitter anger at them for making Eddie afraid, for making Steve look so sad until-

“Uh, babe what’s this?” Eddie asks.

Steve’s come home with a bunch of official looking papers. “It’s a boilerplate for a cease and desist letter. Did you know you don’t need a lawyer to send one? I was talking to Daphne down at the library about the letters we keep getting from my parents and she showed me these. See, you fill in your own stuff like mad libs.”

All Eddie can do is stare slack-jawed. His voice comes out hoarse, “Mad libs?”

“It’s more serious than that, obviously, that’s just the only thing I could think of when she showed me.” Daphne down at the library loves Steve, all the librarians love Steve. Most of them love Eddie too but he hasn’t noticed.

“So you send them this cease and desist thing and they legally have to stop offering you all expenses paid trips to Nice?”

“It’s worth a try.”

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” Eddie tries not to let his voice break.

Steve looks at him seriously. “I know they still think it’s not too late for the whole prodigal son thing, but every time I think about the things I would have to do or not do to make them love me, if they even really could love me-” he sighs, “And the way I’d have to live. I know you think it’s some huge sacrifice for me to be with you and ignore my parents, but it’s not just that. It would be Robin too. And Dustin and Erica and Will and the rest of my little weirdos because they’re little weirdos. You would be worth it on your own, you would. But even without that, I can’t live like them.” He finally smiles at Eddie, winks then climbs on the table and announces in a dramatic tone, “Forced conformity! That’s what’s killing the kids!”

Eddie pulls him off the table and Steve kisses his teary, snotty face.

“Shut up, I do not sound like that!”

[oddballwriter]

Daily Bite

Summary: You take up a job with a trashy celebrity newspaper to go undercover under a housekeeper for a mysterious tycoon family who never lets the public eye see them just outside of Chicago. Your job is simple: collect information and send it back to the company to publish. But it seems like things are stranger than you originally thought they were going to be.

Warnings: Vampire au. No gore happens here, but if this gets enough love, then the story will progress, and there might be a few cases of that in future parts. Gender-neutral reader, no mention of pronouns or any type of anatomy. This whole thing is very pilot-y.  

Author’s Snip: Here I go again with my vampires lol. Will I ever finish a series? Who knows. But now this is here and I want to know if you guys are game.

Notes: This whole thing is what I'm going to call a Pilot-Fic. Basically, this is a thought that's been rattling inside of my head, and I want to do it, but I want to see if you guys are interested. So this is basically going to be a teaser and pilot for it to possibly get green-lit by you guys. At the end, I'll put a poll and you guys can choose if you want this to continue. 

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 2,876

Taglist:

You were a journalist who was as broke as bricks. That's how you ended up with this incognito job working for a trashy celebrity press company. This isn't where you had thought you'd be in your life when you studied and majored in journalism, but it was better than having nothing. It wasn't anything personal to who you were sent to spy on; the company was just offering you a fat stack, and your contract had it stated that this was your only job and then you're free, and also they’re able to cover your tracks on who you are so that you’re not identified once everything goes public. So, the only dirt on your hands will just be morally.

Anyhow, your job revolved around an interesting, albeit strange, tycoon family, the Spectors, who’s managed to successfully stay out of the public eye for nearly two centuries now based in the outskirts of Chicago. You aren’t too sure what they’re a tycoon of, but the press company made it very clear that they were very lucrative and secretive about themselves. Locking themselves in their large mansion and even larger estate away from the eyes of the world and doing all their business there. The only people allowed to see or be near them are the staff employed on their estate and a handful of outsiders who do whatever task they’re given and then immediately kicked out, each and every single one of them having to sign nondisclosure agreements and getting buried in cease and desist letters and threats of lawsuits to any who dare say a thing about them.

Thankfully, you aren’t too in the dark as to who’s living in that big old mansion. According to the sparse few who have said something, there are three men who are all identical triplets and are heirs to the family business and wealth, but seemingly all agree to keep to the estate and never go out. Their names are Marc, Steven, and Jake, most likely being juniors and sharing the same names as the other pair of triplet sons from the Spector family before they randomly became closed off to the world.

Not much is known about them other than that those giving the information either got buried in legal papers or chose to shut up. Everything else is in the walls of the mansion and the sealed mouths of the staff.

But that’s where you come in.

There were two job openings for housekeeping and cleaners that the company managed to catch and send to you. You applied, and you managed to get the job. The only thing is, you would have to pack up and move into the mansion since the only job is listed as a live-in. That was fine, though, you’d still be getting paid by the owners, have a roof over your head, and food, so you would have to find a place to rent and try and supply yourself with groceries. So you packed up what you had and headed off for Chicago and the Spector estate.

However, it seems like the universe wanted to give you a bit of comeuppance though. The press company wanted you to arrive a few days early so that “they don’t have time to hide anything”, but the day that you made it to Chicago it was bucketing rain and you still needed to get to the estate in the outskirts. You did pack an umbrella, but it wasn’t doing much good in these conditions.

You decide that the best way to get there is a taxi. Thankfully, just as soon as you signal for one, one comes shortly after. The driver rolls down the window; you can’t see him too well due to the screen between the driver and passenger seat, but you can hear him clearly when he asks where you’re heading. You tell him, and he says he knows how to get there. You then pay him upfront to save you from having to pay when you get there since you’ll have to take your luggage out of the trunk too.

Sliding into the back seat, you find that he’s also got the screen between the front and back of the car, still obscuring him from being seen properly by you, coupled with his driver's hat and coat. It doesn’t really matter to you. You’re just happy to get a break from that god-awful rain for now.

“This money better be worth it.” you quietly grumble to yourself as the driver takes off.

Along the drive he starts conversation with you. Nothing too big, just casual small talk.

“So what’s over there for you at the old Spector place?” he asks. “I got a job there,” you answer simply. He lets out a ‘huh’ as a response. “Not a lot of those in there.” he says before adding, “They rarely let new people in. You must be lucky to have gotten that job, huh?”. You shrug, “I guess so. It was the last application I made.”.

“You having trouble with finding jobs?” he questions.

“Yeah. Not much out there for someone like me, I suppose,” you answer.

“What’s your expertise?” the driver asks.

You hesitate to answer at first before landing on a half-truth, “Journalism. But I gave up on that. All the good stuff is taken already.” you say. “Journalism,” the driver echoes back. “Why do you say all the good jobs are taken? I’m sure someone’s looking for a journalist out there?” he says after a moment. You sigh and answer in a mumble, “Well, I didn’t find any.” as you thought about your current job.

“But I guess working as a live-in housekeeper isn’t too bad of an in-between job.” the driver says, which catches your attention and makes you confused. “I never said what I was going there for,” you say in your confession. The driver notices your apprehension and says, “Lucky guess. Most people who get a job there are there to be housekeeping.” with a nonchalant attitude. That shook off your confusion, and you shrugged back with your own remark, “Well then, I’m no different.”.

After a brief silence, the driver speaks again with a strange question.

“You’re not scared, are you?”.

“Why would I be scared?” you question.

“People like to tell scary stories about that place. Talking about how they never seem to leave that old place and don’t talk to anyone and making up all kinds of stuff.” the driver says.

“What kind of stuff?” you ask.

You can hear a sort of humor in the drivers voice as he talks, like what he’s saying is like some big joke to him.

“All kinds of stuff. Like how the mansion’s haunted and that there’s all this mystery about the family, why they just randomly closed off to the public centuries ago and haven’t left since, and all sorts of stuff. Some people like to say that the original family never actually grew old and died to leave everything to their descendants and that they’re actually vampires living amongst themselves.”.

You psshh at the thought of that. You had actually heard that crazy theory before while researching what there was a record of about the family after taking this job, but you knew that it wasn’t real. You had heard that the three sons started acting off all the way back before hermitting themselves, but it was known that their parents died very suddenly and that it was possibly a mourning thing that they never left that phase and that the rest of the generations kept to for whatever reason.

Other than the records predating the 1840s, you found nothing. Except for one source talking about medical history that made it known that the two first of the triplets, Marc and Steven Sr., were born slightly conjoined at the hip and had some health issues around that. You aren’t too sure why you remembered that one morbid fact, but it was there and might be worth something.

The rest of your ride was filled with more small talk and the occasional look outside the window.

Still pouring.

You eventually reach the outskirts and into a dense area of trees that completely hide the city as if it was never even there, after a bit longer, you eventually reach a gravel road with a big metal gate with tall stone walls up ahead that hide the other side except for a roof of the mansion off in the distance that just manages to peak over the walls into your line of sight.

"You need help getting all your stuff up there? The walk up to the place is longer than it looks." the driver offers, "No extra charge." he adds. You nod and thank him for being willing to lend you a hand as you prepare yourself to get out of the cab.

The gate just happens to already be open, so you don't need to buzz for someone to come get it if there even is a buzzer anywhere.

You take a few of your lighter bags and make the hike up the rest of the gravel path with the driver behind you. So you look back for him, you feel a bit bad since he's walking with no umbrella, with his hat and coat being his only protection from the rain and seemingly having to tilt his head down to keep his face dry, so you go back towards him and share your umbrella with him.

"Oh, don't worry about me." he laughs, "I've been through worse," he says. "I don't want you to get sick," you say. "I don't get sick. But thanks for the concern." the driver responds.

As you walk, the mansion seems to get bigger and bigger and taller the closer you get. It also doesn't help that its dark color pallet is dulled out and looks unmaintained, making it look spooky and straight out of Halloween concept art. No wonder people say it's haunted. It looks haunted. Even the front door is bigger than you once you reach it.

You set down your bags to have a free hand to knock. It takes a while and a few more knocks, but eventually, someone opens it up a bit to see who's there. You peek your head in a bit to see a stout older woman who has grey streaks in her hair already and wrinkles that emphasize her bothered expression.

"No solicitors." she says before you can even get a hello in.

"I'm not a solicitor," you say before you introduce yourself and say that you're here to be one of the new housekeepers.

"You're here three days early." she scowls.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," you apologize. "Something came up, and I had to come early and couldn't get a room anywhere here till it was time for me to arrive. I tried to contact someone, but the only option was a letter. I guess the mail is slower right now." you lie. Not fully. The only way to contact is by letter was true, and the job offer was actually via a personal ad in the paper. But you never sent a damn letter.

The lady eyes you up suspiciously for a bit before seemingly taking it while grumbling "No one ever tells me anything.".

"You came all the way up here all by yourself?" she questions.

"Oh, no. A driver helped me with getting my bags up-" you explain as you turn to look at the driver, but when you look, he's gone. You look around for him, but you don't see him walking down the pathway or even his cab where the gate is anymore. You turn back to the woman and finish your sentence, "There was a taxi driver who helped me get my bags up here.".

The maid just opens the door and lets you in, saying, "Alright. Get in here before you get any more wet.".

Stepping inside, the maid closes the door behind you and tells you to stay there as she goes off somewhere in the house, which gives you time to get a look at this place.

You find it's a lot bigger on the inside, if that's even possible. There's a large indoor mat at the door that takes up most of the entrance area. The whole foyer up ahead has more space than most people do for their houses, with two old-style grand staircases going up the sides that take you up to the rest of the floors. There are three main hallways that you can see. One on each side of the house just where the bottoms of the stairs end, and one in front of you under where the two staircases meet. This place is just as spooky looking on the inside as it is on the outside too. The lighting is cool-toned, making the place look a bit blue even though some lights are trying their hardest to light the place up. It's also deafly quiet; the only thing you can hear is the echo of the old woman's footsteps along the polished hard floor, but she's far enough away that they've become faint. You can also hear a muffled conversation somewhere within the house, but all the walls that might be between you and whoever is talking make it unknown to you. But as you listen closely, you manage to make out what seems to be three separate voices.

You hear footsteps coming to where you are and see that it's the maid coming back to get you. She gestures for you to follow her and takes you down one of the hallways on the side of the house.

"You're lucky that we just cleaned out the room that you'll be living in while you work here," she remarks. "I'm really sorry about the early arrival. If I had known, then I would have found some way to wait until the day I was meant to come," you claim. The lady humphs back before saying, "I don't like having to repeat myself, but since you're here and your other new co-worker isn't, I'll have to make due.".

"You're the head maid?" you ask.

"Yes." the lady responds quickly, sounding annoyed before she continues.

"We'll do this," she proclaims, "You spend today settling into your room. Tomorrow, I'll give you a brief tour around the house. And the day after that, your co-worker should arrive sometime in the day. After that, I show you both how to do things around here while giving them their tour." she explains. "Got it?" she asks demandingly.

"Got it." you echo.

It was at that point that you two reach a corridor full of nothing but doors where you two stop at one. The head maid pushes open the door to reveal a relatively nice but quaint room. It looks like a very small hotel room, with only a twin-sized-looking bed, a small nightstand, and a little desk with an even smaller-looking personal bathroom. You were expecting something more cramped and a bit dehumanizing, but this was actually really nice. A bit banged up in a few spots, but it was pretty nice compared to the rooms you'd heard about concerning live-in jobs.

"This will be your room from now on." the head maid says as she places a single key in your hand, "This is your key to it." she tells you. She then points a finger right in your face as she orders you, "Do not lose it. If you do, then we have to get all the locks redone.".

"I'll protect it with my life." you joke as you promise to keep it on you, but she just huffs. "The staff have designated breakfast, lunch, and dinner times. Lunch is in an hour and a half. Dinner is at six." she says as she begins to walk away.

You try to ask where exactly you're meant to go for your meals, but she seems to have caught on by herself and says, "Staff's dining room is down the center hallway from where you came in and is the second to last door on the left.", she also adds "You can eat in your rooms too if you want, just don't make a mess. And if you do, clean it up.".

You take a mental note of that and take all your things into your room, shutting the door. You put everything in its place and proceed to take out your pocket journal and pen that you plan on using as you collect information.

"Just arrived at the mansion. This place is already giving me the creeps look-wise. Took a cab here. The driver was friendly but didn't tell me much about the family other than the stories and theories I'd already heard. Met the head maid, was really rude, didn't catch her or the driver's names. The head maid says that she'll give me a tour tomorrow. Waiting for the other new person to come before we actually start working. I'll see if I notice anything out of place on my tour. Haven't seen any of the three owners, yet. My room's nice though."

[vickyvicarious]

The Count has come. He sat down beside me, and said in his smoothest voice as he opened two letters:— "The Szgany has given me these, of which, though I know not whence they come, I shall, of course, take care. See!"—he must have looked at it—"one is from you, and to my friend Peter Hawkins; the other"—here he caught sight of the strange symbols as he opened the envelope, and the dark look came into his face, and his eyes blazed wickedly—"the other is a vile thing, an outrage upon friendship and hospitality! It is not signed. Well! so it cannot matter to us." And he calmly held letter and envelope in the flame of the lamp till they were consumed. Then he went on:— "The letter to Hawkins—that I shall, of course, send on, since it is yours. Your letters are sacred to me. Your pardon, my friend, that unknowingly I did break the seal. Will you not cover it again?" He held out the letter to me, and with a courteous bow handed me a clean envelope. I could only redirect it and hand it to him in silence.

This is Dracula at peak cruelty. He's got his smoothest voice, his best manners, his finest words about the friendship between them. He opens Jonathan's messages right in front of him, burns the letter right in front of him.

He could have let him think they got out, but he doesn't want Jonathan to keep harboring any hope. He also doesn't want him to think he can ask the people outside for help (which actually makes me believe they are more likely to try and help, which is why Dracula wants to prevent Jonathan seeking it from them). So he crushes both the hope for rescue from afar and help from nearby at once, by telling Jonathan that these letters were given to him, and of course by controlling what gets sent out.

He seems to have already opened and read the letter to Hawkins. But he waited to read the second letter until he is in front of Jonathan. The one to Hawkins has no important information, but it hints that the one to Mina does. If that letter was not in shorthand, Jonathan's life would almost certainly depend on how openly he had asked for help. Because that might have broken the facade of friendship. And by waiting until he was in front of him to read Jonathan's own words, Dracula ensured that it would be Jonathan who was 'responsible' for doing so. He engineered what he probably expected to be a high-stakes game, wherein he read the letter and depending on the contents either allowed Jonathan to try and come up with an excuse he could pretend to accept, or let everything end and attacked him.

The shorthand changes everything. It's infuriating, because Dracula cannot read or understand it. And he refuses to admit that or to allow Jonathan to lie to him about what it contains. So he threatens whoever would write such a thing, but seizes on the excuse of it not being signed to dispose of it without having to call off the game. And he is able to quickly pivot back to hurting Jonathan even more, by forcing him to watch the letter containing all his hopes burn away. (This could be another test as well. If he broke, if he lunged to save it...)

Then Dracula forces Jonathan to play along. It seems clear that he has been sitting in silence throughout this scene. Dracula makes him, if not talk, at least act. He has to be the one to redirect the new envelope. He has to physically hand it over to Dracula. His effort to get a message out was turned into a useless mockery in which he must participate.

And then Dracula locks him in the library and leaves him alone to stew for a while.

I do think that Dracula went off and burned the letter to Mr. Hawkins as well. If that went out it would potentially raise questions, at the very least about a letter to Mina that went missing, and also might screw up his carefully scheduled false timeline (as established in the dictated letters). There's no reason for him to actually send this letter. But by pretending he was going to, he was able to twist the knife a little harder, and get Jonathan to 'participate' again.

[ithebookhoarder]

Relationship A - Z: (Alfie Solomons x F!Reader)

A/N: I randomly ended up catching a friend rewatching an episode of Peaky Blinders recently, and may have fallen back in love with this man again. So, it felt only right to finish this, after it sitting in my pile of unfinished drafts for months XD...

Yet again, for anyone who wants to know, I’m using Dameronlogy’s list here for this prompt. You can find it on their blog, or here. Thanks for all your love and support recently. It means a lot.

Masterlist:

A - actions. what sort of things do they do to show they love their s.o? 

Alfie listens which makes you feel special and valued to no end - something he demonstrates over and over again in many different ways. 

For example, if you say something is your favourite then he is sure to order it and leave it on your desk, whether it’s flowers, perfume, or books by a certain author. 

You even catch him one night, reading your favourite book, and can’t believe it when he starts asking you about it at breakfast the next morning, clearly having absorbed every word with great interest. 

And conversely, if you say you don’t like something… well, then it is all but eliminated from your life. Mushrooms? He’ll never let them touch your plate again. A certain cologne makes your headache? NO one at the factory can wear it. You’re allergic to something? Then Alfie will add it to a never ending list of enemies that need vanquishing and god help it if someone dares try to bring it close to you. 

He also shows it by asking about things you’ve mentioned, remembering all your friends and family names, as well as all the drama too (something you know he thoroughly enjoys catching up on, as yes, whether Mindy’s second husband is cheating on her is more interesting than answering Tommy’s letters.) 

B - beginnings. how did the relationship begin? how has it changed? 

However you met, you can guarantee that it took a while for you both to get to a point where you realised how you felt about one another. Alfie would definitely try to woo you though, even from the start. Tipping his hat when he passes you, sending gifts with handwritten notes, and taking you on lavish dates that clearly took time and effort to plan - he is a gentleman in many ways and refuses to treat you as anything less than a lady, even if you continually insist it isn’t necessary. 

C - comfortable. how comfy are they with each other? peeing with the door open close, or would they rather keep the mystery? 

He’d try to keep a line drawn between his work and your home life, but I feel he’d surrender pretty quickly once you start wearing it down. He has walls that he’s built pretty high and it takes him a while to figure out that it’s ok to let someone in every now and then - especially you.  

Soon enough, he’s sharing everything with you, from the sales figures, to other confidential business information. He keeps nothing back and neither do you. It’s a partnership and that makes you both incredibly happy. 

D - dates. do they consider dates to be important? what kind do they prefer? 

Dates are incredibly important to Alfie. They’re his chance to escape the darkness that follows him in his day to day life and to savour your company. They’re also a chance to strengthen your relationship which is the most important thing in his world. 

As for the types of dates, well, Alfie enjoys mixing things up, alternating between quiet evenings at home with you and nights hitting the town. 

E - engagement. how would they propose? who would even pop the question? 

Alfie would propose to you for sure. In fact, he’s probably been planning on asking you since the moment you first agreed to let him take you to dinner. He can see it all in in his head, and has his mother’s ring on standby for the day he finally musters up the courage to ask.  

F - fundamental. for them, what is the most fundamental part of a relationship? 

Loyalty - which I know sounds ironic given Alfie’s history, but it’s different when it comes to your personal lives. You’re not like his business, so there are no muddy waters for you to have to navigate through when it comes to right and wrong. You’re a team and that’s that, first, last, and always. 

You have each other’s back and love each other for who you are, and that’s why Alfie loves you so much. As long as you trust one another then you can handle anything, whether it be business at the bakery, or even hosting a dinner for the local community in your home. 

G - gratitude. how do they show their appreciation for you?

By spoiling you rotten. This could be via services for you, such as foot rubs, making you fall apart over and over in bed, or baking for you. Or, this could also be via material gifts, such as glittering jewels he’s procured from ‘work’ or fine dresses that you know cost far too much for any one person to own. But that’s Alfie. He loves to gift you fine things and watch as you put them on, looking every bit as regal and expensive as a queen - which is just how Alfie sees you anyway. 

H - home. a random domestic headcanon. 

This man can actually bake, which is fitting given his business front. Still, despite his true business ventures, Alfie can actually bake pretty well and loves to find an excuse to break out his mother’s recipes in the kitchen for you. Most days off start with you waking to the smell of something sweet wafting up the stairs, and the sound of your husband whistling as he works. 

He also has a pair of fluffy slippers that he would keep hidden with his life, if it came to it, rather than let anyone other than you know about them. He really doesn’t look so threatening with them on, which isn’t exactly the look he’s going for.  

I - infinite. do they believe their love is endless, or is there something that could break it? 

Alfie is a realist. Let’s be honest. He’s seen too much of humanity and the world not to be. Just because he expects the worst out of everyone in the world, doesn’t mean he isn’t determined to make your relationship work anyway. If he wants something he goes for it and his happy ever after is one of those things. 

It takes a lot of patience and self-work to not always fly off the handle or let the little things blow up into massive issues. You’d have your bumps along the way, especially in the early days, but you’d both find your feet together. In fact, soon your marriage is the gold standard amongst your friends. 

The secret? It’s learning not to see love as something that is either there or not. It’s something you earn, you build, you tend to. You don’t give up on it, no matter what the world throws at you. 

J - jokes. who's the funny one? 

Alfie is funny and often makes you laugh, but I think you’d get your fair share of laughter out of him too. He’s a goofy one when you finally crack through that shell of his, but he can take banter as well as giving it. In fact, the first time he properly laughed whilst at work he made the entire factory floor grind to a halt in surprise. You’d have heard a pin drop everyone looked so scared and confused.

K - kiss. how do they kiss? favourite type?

Alfie may seem like a massive extrovert, and he can be in the right circumstances. But when it comes to you? I feel like this man is private and protective af. He doesn’t like making a massive spectacle of you or your attentions. So, it’s the little kisses that are his favourite. The ones you subtly press to his cheek or hand whenever you’re near him. When you’re sat in his office or in the car together. When you’re lying side by side in bed and fighting the urge to close your eyes and doze off in his arms. They’re a constant reminder of the love you have for him. 

L - longing. who's the clingy one? how are they with long distance? 

Interestingly, I feel Alfie would be the clingy one, even though he is the one most often away from home, travelling for work. He calls you when he can, though, and makes sure to spend a day with you when he returns. 

He also has men watching you to ‘keep you safe’, even if he knows it drives you mad. Still, you put up with it because it makes him happy, making sure to offer each poor sod a cup of tea for their efforts, and charming them each into compliance. 

M - marriage. do they wanna get married? 

Alfie would love to marry you, let’s be honest. The chance to have a fancy wedding with the local community, and everyone witnessing how lucky he is to call you his? He’d be in his element - and the luckiest bastard alive. To call you Mrs Solomons is something he fantasises about nightly, and the ring box sitting in his desk drawer suggests it won’t be long before he asks you either. He would prefer a traditional Jewish ceremony, but wouldn’t insist if you said otherwise. After all, he just wants you to be happy. 

N - nicknames. what ones do they like? 

Sweetheart, Darlin’, Love… he has a lot of nicknames for you, each one depending on his mood. You can often tell a lot about how he’s feeling by the nickname he chooses to greet you with. Like, if he calls you by your actual name, then he’s feeling serious about something. It can be good or bad but he doesn’t use it lightly… just as he keeps ‘Oytser’ and a few other Yiddish terms for special occasions, usually when you’re alone. 

O - over the top. are they ever ott? or are they more low-key? 

This is Alfie. He’s OTT to the extreme. This wouldn’t change when it comes to you. His personality is as big as his empire and you wouldn’t change it for the world. It keeps things interesting, for a start, and you fell in love with him for him, just as he did you. That doesn’t mean, however, that you don’t sometimes wish things were simpler and quieter - especially once Tommy Shelby comes into your lives. That man only eggs Alfie on and makes him all the worse. 

P - picture. what's their favourite picture of them and their s.o? 

It would be something simple yet intimate to be honest, like a wedding photo, or one of the pair of you taken at a company soiree. He loves it because you’re dressed to the nines, wrapped in each other’s arms, and grinning like a pair of love sick soppy bastards. 

Q - quintessential. what is one they would refuse to compromise in their relationship? what's a deal-breaker for them? 

As I said before. Loyalty is everything to him. Plain and simple. 

R - rage. who is the most likely to start an argument? 

… come on. Alfie. For sure. He probably wouldn’t mean to, unlike when he’s with people to do with the business. Oh no, this man would do his very best not to upset you, given that you’re the one person in all the world that means everything to him. However, he’s still him. He still has a temper and a short fuse that all too often blows up whether it’s about not being able to find his cane, or about the fact he may or may not have pissed off an Italian gangster and needs you to flee to some safehouse for a week. 

He’ll take whatever rage you give back to him and can grovel with the best of them. Expect many bouquets, kisses, and angry sex, followed by make up sex is all I can say. 

S - sickness. who gets sick most often? what are they like when they’re sick? 

Given what we’ve seen in the show, I think Alfie would get ill most often. This can be due to his inability to take a day off or get a decent night’s rest in him, but it can also be due to more serious factors like his war wounds. Still, you’re a great nurse and aren’t afraid of ‘Big bad Solomons’, even if he does his best to get out of taking medicines or staying in bed. 

You can be a spitfire when you need to be and when it comes to caring for your husband, then you turn into the most fearsome Solomons in the West End. Scarier men than him have blanched and run away after being screamed at, by you, for refusing to let your husband out of meetings. Even Tommy himself once actually apologised after a dressing down from you, and sent a bottle of whiskey by way of apology. 

T - tattoo. would they ever get matching tattoos with their s.o, or a tattoo for them? 

Alfie would definitely get one for you. He has a lot anyway, but one dedicated to you would be important to him, so that he carries you with him. He’d also probably get it done over his heart, so it is all the more special as he claims it’s a visual reminder of the mark you’ve left on him. 

You make sure to call him a softy, but kiss him anyway once he tells you. 

U - understanding. how understanding are they? or are they a little difficult? 

All things considered, I think Alfie would actually be rather understanding about most things. It isn’t like his world is black and white, and he knows the world can be a complicated and unfair place. Sure, he’s stubborn but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t try to at least see things from a different perspective before deciding he was right in the first place. 

If anything, you’d be the one who is less understanding. By that, I mean, you have patience - the patience of a god damn saint, according to most of your friends - but God help you if Alfie makes a promise and then breaks it. You’ll put up with almost anything but if he makes a promise then he knows he has to keep it, else face your wrath later. 

V - vases. do they buy flowers?

Alfie would buy you flowers all the time. True, he’d normally bark at Ollie to order them for him, especially if it’s for an occasion or if he’s in trouble… he knows exactly what kind of flowers are your favourites and isn’t afraid to send you fields worth if it would make you smile. After all, in a city as grey and metropolitan as London, you savour any bud of greenery or coloured petals. It’s why you’ve come home to the kitchen filled with Sunflowers once or twice, after mentioning that you’d had a bad day… only the best for you, Alfie always says - to brighten your day, just as you brighten his life by being in it. 

W - wandering. do they wanna travel? or immediately settle down? 

He may be known as ‘the wandering Jew’ but Alfie would want to settle down, to be honest. You, him, Cyril and whatever kids you two have in a cottage by the sea in Margate… that’s the dream. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy taking you to places though, spoiling you with trips abroad every now and then, like Paris on your honey moon, and Italy for an anniversary. 

X - ex. how many exes do they have? any horror stories? 

As king of Camden he would more than likely have a few, but none he’d deem significant enough to tell you about. He’s always been more of a casual fling, kind of guy, until you came along and tipped his world upside down. The only person you’d ever have to worry about rivalling you for his affection has a tail and answers to the name Cyril… and to be fair, you’re pretty in love with him too.  

But if you had exes? Well, it depends on how it ended as to whether or not he has some of his men have quiet words with them in the middle of the night… 

Y - you. favourite thing about their partner? 

Alfie calls you his salvation, and you think he honestly believes that. You accept him for who he is and aren’t afraid of him, which is a minor miracle in itself. You’re patient and kind and all this things Alfie claims he isn’t, which is why he loves you so much - you are the light in his life and he hopes even just being around you is enough to make him a slither less of a sinner. 

That, and your irritating, unwavering optimism… oh, it annoys him to no end how you always smile and find silver linings wherever you look. You also seem to know just about everyone, often whistling and waving as you make your way through the factory like a god damn Disney princess. Hell, even the Shelbys seem to like you which really gets on his wick… but why wouldn’t they? You’re amazing, so he can understand even if he doesn’t like it. 

Z - zeal. how excitable are they? who's the calm one?

It’s Alfie. Come on - this one is self explanatory, even if I like to think you’d balance each other out. He brings out your extroverted side and you help temper his when he gets a bit much (even if you secretly love how excitable he gets). 

[gale-dragon-writer]

Guardian Zestial Pt 1

Something that has somewhat been living rent-free in my brain for a while.

}I{

When Charlie was an itty-bitty little babe, Lucifer started worrying about his precious little girl getting in trouble. Since Razzle and Dazzle aren't in existence yet (idk how old these two are or when Charlie got them as her servants/bodyguards), the King of Hell started looking for a suitable bodyguard that could double as a caretaker. The tricky bit was looking for someone who wouldn't try to use Charlie as leverage because this was Hell.

Therefore, Lucifer made a very detailed list of criteria that he wanted for this Protector for his precious little girl. Someone strong enough to protect Charlie from any type of threat within Hell, wouldn't use Charlie as leverage to get to Lucifer, wouldn't harm Charlie in "Any" way, could care for a child, smart enough to be a tutor if needed, and most importantly, someone Lucifer could genuinely trust.

Simple list, but given that this was Hell, that was a tall order. So Lucifer created little "Speye Ducks" to search the entire Pride Ring for his precious daughter's perfect protector.

Thankfully, none of the denizens of the Pride Ring noticed the Speye Ducks; if they did, they either didn't care about them or thought they weren't worth their time.

It takes a year or two for Lucifer to find some potential guardians for his precious little daughter. A handful of Sinners and a few members of the Goieta. The biggest issue was whether or not he could trust any of these potential guardians. Therefore, Lucifer created a plan to test these potential guardians. An easy test of trust on paper, but easy to fail.

Lucifer summons these people (separately) and gives them a sealed envelope, telling them that he needs them to deliver this secret letter to a potential grand commander for the army he's planning on making. Lucifer makes it a point to tell them he trusts them with this valuable information and not look at it. He sends them off after he tells them where this "commander" is. Once he gives all the potential Guardians the test, he teleports himself to said location and waits.

All but one failed the test. Zestial.

He is the only one to take a moment to weigh his options regarding this 'information', considering the pros and cons of looking at the 'information' and following Lucifer's orders. Seeing that it would be more beneficial to have the Ruler of Hell's trust in his corner over a glimpse at something that would possibly become public once the 'army' was established, Zestial proceeded to deliver the envelope to its destination without opening it.

Zestial is understandably surprised and confused when he arrives at the location and finds Lucifer there.

Lucifer congratulates the Overlord on passing his little trust test and then proceeds to tell Zesital why he did this and why. Ofc, Zesital is confused by all this.

Lucifer goes into more detail on his desire to have a perfect guardian for his precious daughter and why. He explains how Zestial fits the criteria he's looking for and wants him to be that guardian, and ofc Lucifer isn't asking Zestial to do this for free.

So they talk for a while to iron out this little Deal. For the care and protection of Charlette "Charlie" Morningstar (plus the possibility of being a teacher to her), Zestial will earn Lucifer's backing as an Overlord, given protected areas during the Extermination in his territories for the souls that he owns (not the entire territory because that will be too obvious to others in Hell and the Exorcists, but scattered across it in easy to access areas), and the access to the Morningstar Mansion to him and anyone he holds close to his heart. Ofc, Lusicer makes sure to put in the contract that Zestial couldn't use any personal information he gains while at the Morningstar Mansion or while caring for Charlie. Both beings keep their souls.

After solidifying the contract for the Deal, both Lucifer and Zestial agree to it and seal it.

It doesn't take too long before Zestial becomes attached to the cheery little toddler while in his care. While bitty Charlie didn't enjoy the screams of the denizens of Hell, she seemed to enjoy the teas that Zestial brought. The little tot was more interested in the sweeter teas than the bitter ones.

It doesn't take long before Zestial brings little Charlie (maybe when she's 6-7ish) over to the Carmine Family for a get-together. Odette and Clara were overjoyed by the fact that they could be big sister figures to Little Charlie. Carmilla is understandably confused by this, at least until Zestial confides to her about his little charge while the children are playing. Ofc, Carmilla gives him a 'what are you thinking?' talk. Zestial understands his friend's concerns and explains why he accepted the Deal, adding that he asked for Lucifer to also place a Safe Zone in the Carmine Residence and that little Charlie might as well be his little goddaughter. Carmilla couldn't help but agree that the youngest of the Morningstars was easy to love and was willing to look after the youngling in case Zestial was busy, somewhat adding that her daughters would be willing to look after her too. (Family Bonding!!)

Over the years, Zestial learned more about the Morningstars as well as somewhat became part of the family.

But the more subtle yet information Zestial gained came specifically during and after the Extermination. He saw how much the Morningstars loathed that day. Charlie was more obvious about that since she was still pretty young and didn't understand what was going on. Lilith seemed to get irritable. And Lucifer was... Complicated... He seemed to have this strange combination of anger and sadness when this day came around... Zestial watched these moments from the shadows for years, unsure how to broach the subject.

Until one year when the Exorcist decided to have the Extermination a week early when Zestial was out and about with the Carmine Family and little Charlie for an afternoon stroll in a bizarre to get some supplies for said event. The attack was sudden and there was no real time to take cover for anyone. However, Zestial was quick to act and used his powers to grab the Carmines and little Charlie and then teleport them all into the Morningstar Mansion with only seconds to spar.

Ofc, Lucifer is confused by their sudden presence and asks what was going on. When he's told about the early Extermination, Lucifer goes through several different emotions in a matter of seconds. Sock, disbelief, worry, relief, anger, and resentment in that order. Little Charlie rushed into her father's arms in tears, still terrified over the whole ordeal.

That was when Odette and Clara shouted at Lucifer, asking him why the hell he allowed the Exorcist to do the Extermination every year before Zestial and Carmilla could stop them.

Lucifer quickly snaps back in anger, "You really think I want this shit to happen!?" The ruler of hell then says in anger, "But does Heaven listen when I suggest any alternative solutions?! NO!! They don't give a crap!!" Lucifer hugs his confused daughter closer when he says softly, "All I was able to do was make sure they leave the Hellborns alone..."

The Carmine Family and Zestial... Did not know how to respond to this... Reveal... But due to Lucifer and Zestial's deal, this information stays between them. Never to be told to anyone outside the Morningstar home...

A few years go by, little Charlie starts spending a little more time outside the Morningstar mansion. But most of that time was either with Zestial or the Carmine Family, learning a lot of useful skills. Charlie learned about conjuring magic from Zesital while she learned combat and weaponry from the Carmines. It didn't take too long before she could handle any type of threat on her own, mostly. Charlie was still an oddly kind-hearted soul for a hellborn and princess of hell. Zestial usually takes care of the would-be assassins behind Charlie's back by using fear tactics.

To be continued in pt 2.

[queenjang21]

PERFECT REUNION

Seo yul x reader (fluff)

"What!? He's back?!" Your eyes widened and you practically bounced up at hearing the words from one of the servants. You had barely even heard the name of your lover since he had left 3 years ago, and after a couple of months, you had even stopped receiving letters despite his promise to you that he would keep sending them.

You were already rushing out of the house the second you processed the words. "Ma'am, I have been informed that Young Master Seo Yul is staying at Chwiseonru. He arrived this afternoon." It was already dark out and entirely improper for you to be travelling alone at this time, but you felt like you didn't have a single second to spare to call for Eunju, your maid. It took 20 minutes to get to Chwiseonru from your family's home, but with your hurried steps, you made it in half the time. Juwol knew you well and already could tell what had brought you here from your slight panting as you struggled to catch your breath.

"Y/n! You're out so late? Without Eunju?" She sounded concerned, but she understood your urgency. There had barely been a mention of Yul after the chaos at Choyeon's wedding 3 years ago. You had been too preoccupied with helping your best friend through her mourning and anger to even say a proper goodbye to him.

Now that things were as back to normal as they could get, you were desperate to see the face you had longed for every night and day for so long. Juwol didn't dawdle any longer before disclosing which room Yul was staying in, and you were quick to rush up the stairs and down the hall. Standing in front of the door, you were hit with a sudden nervousness. You had been separated for so long, but now were only a room apart. It only took one push for you to see his face again. His beautiful face that you had missed so much.

But doubt filled you as you stalled there, standing just outside like the fool you were. What if he had forgotten you? What if he had found someone else in his time away? What if he didn't want to see you? But you shook all your thoughts aside and with your last bit of courage, knocked softly on the door.

"Yes?"

Your heart raced at the sound of his voice, and it suddenly all felt a little more real. He really was back. He was just behind this door. You pushed it open a little shakily, feeling almost as if you couldn't breathe as you watched his eyes look up to meet yours.

He was dressed in a simple light purple set of hanbok and his hair was maybe a little longer than you had last seen, his eyes a little more worn with experience. They held a drowsiness which you knew all too well, and with a quick glance at the table he sat at, you acknowledged the bottle of wine he had been drinking. His eyes widened as soon as he saw you, and you swore they even brightened upon seeing your face. He stood up quickly, but he was clearly very drunk, and he stumbled a bit. You rushed over to him like it was second nature, steadying him before he could trip.

"I-I'm not dreaming, right? I-It's really you, right?" He spoke softly, his words slurring together slightly as a result of the alcohol. His hands gripped at your arms to keep from falling, and your heart nearly shattered at his question. His voice was filled with hurt, but unmistakable hope as well, and all you could do was nod your head fervently at first.

"You're not dreaming... It's me." You whispered with a sob. You finally gave up trying to keep you both standing, and sunk to the floor slowly, tears already slipping out and down your cheeks.

Yul was no more collected than you. Whether it was the alcohol or just the result of seeing you, you weren't sure; but his eyebrows fell, and his lip began to tremble, and before too long, he was weeping silently in your arms as well. That's how you stayed for several minutes. Both of you were too emotional to say anything without breaking down halfway through the sentence, so you just stayed in his arms, sobbing into his chest as he pulled you ever closer, his tears dripping down onto the silk of your dress.

It took a while for you to recover, but eventually, you did. You took a shaky breath, gathering enough energy to be the first one to speak. And even though you could talk without being reduced to tears halfway through, your words were still shaky with emotion.

"Why did you drink alone? You should've invited me..." You looked up at him and offered a sad smile. He tried to return it, but couldn't quite. He shut his eyes as another tear slipped out. You reached out silently and brushed it off his cheek, leaving your hand there to cup his warm skin. He leaned into your touch and it seemed to ground him enough to find the words he wanted.

"I know I should've told you that I was returning... But I was scared." He opened his eyes and met your loving gaze with his sorrowful one. "A few months after I left, I found out some of my letters had been intercepted by my father. I realized you must've thought that I... moved on from you."

He looked down for a moment, collecting his thoughts. He was somehow so well-spoken even while drunk. You weren't sure what you had expected, though. He was Seo Yul, after all. You hadn't realized just how much you had missed him. "Y/n." He said softly. You smiled. Hearing your name from his lips was all you had longed for for those 3 years. "I have so much to tell you, and even more that I want to ask. But first... How have you been, my love?" He smiled gently, finally being able to call you that after so long.

You were quickly able to catch up with your lover. He told you about everything that had happened back home while you shared the rest of the wine. You didn't have much to tell him. Most of the time he had been away from you had been spent at home, with you thinking of rarely anything but him. You found out that he hadn't stopped writing letters to you, he had just stopped sending them. He had even brought them with him, but he refused to show you. They were useless now that he had you back.

In some ways it still felt like a dream that he was here. Yet it couldn't be a dream because you felt his arms around you, hugging you as close as humanly possible. It still didn't feel close enough for either of you, though.

As he talked, you couldn't help but press more and more kisses to any skin you could access— his neck, his jaw, his cheek, and even his lips. He allowed you to cut off his sentences to kiss you instead. You had 3 years to make up for, after all.

It felt too perfect to be kissing him, to feel his soft lips against yours, and to feel the relief that you didn't have to stop or say goodbye. He was here and he was yours and with that thought, you kissed him as if there was no tomorrow. You wanted to savour the moment for as long as possible, so even when you had to pull apart to catch your breath, it was never too long before your lips found their way to his again. It was after you pulled apart for the 3rd or 4th time that Yul spoke up.

"y/n.....marry me?"

You were taken aback at his sudden words. It didn't even really sound like a question, because he already knew your answer. He was firm in the statement, determined even, and you smiled wider than you had ever had before.

You nodded at him with shiny eyes, watching in awe as his lips curved up into a smile, eyes almost overflowing with his love for you. You laughed and kissed him again. You knew he would probably ask you again the next day when he was sober because "nothing counts when you're drunk", and that you would say yes again to that as well. It brought a warm feeling to your chest. You really couldn't think of a time that you were happier than in the current moment.

Everything felt so good and right and perfect. That's what Yul was to you in every way.

Absolutely, unmistakably, decidedly perfect.

Written by: slytherinshua (Wattpad)

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Lay me down (Helaena Targaryen x Reader) 

Summary: Helaena cannot sleep. You offer to keep her company, but find yourself addled by the same malady she has. 

Warnings: None! Just the Princess and the Pea, and grief. Also, friends to lovers. 

A/N: This one was hard. Little hope in regards to comments.

“Helaena. Helaena.” The dowager Queen says, voice harsh. “Helaena, are you even listening to me?” 

And you do not mean to listen in. You really don’t. But her tone is so urgent, and you are only a few benches away from them, hands joined in prayer. 

You had asked the dowager Queen if you could tag along with them today, promising to leave them pray privately. You had your own grief to keep you company, after all. 

The news of your betrothed’s death reached you this morning. He had fallen during a battle near Duskendale, marching with the Royal Army under command of Ser Criston. 

Your eyes were swollen from so much crying, your nose sore and raw. You had liked the man. Perhaps not as a lover, but he had been very cordial towards you, constantly writing and sending you trinkets. You had considered him a friend, and always found yourself excited to open his letters. 

Now, your friend was gone, and your father had callously informed you that you were back in the marriage market. Not even an afternoon had you been allowed to grieve. The Sept was your sole respite from his constant nagging.

“Helaena. Please. Do try to pray.” The dowager Queen begs of her daughter, holding her hands. But the Queen only makes a sound of discomfort, trying to avoid her touch. “It will make you feel better.”

“I have not slept.” She weeps, face twisting in agony. Her whole body cringes away from Queen Alicent. 

“It is only normal, after…” And you cannot bear it. Cannot bear to hear them discuss their loss, their own grief, when you are suffering through yours. You get up, choosing to move towards the altar. 

You will light a candle and leave. The carriage will provide the same solitude you sought by coming here.

“That has nothing to do with it. Something is wrong. Wrong with my room. Can you stay with me tonight?” Queen Helaena untangles herself from Queen Alicent, who seems desperate to hold her. 

“Helaena… I cannot… The lords and…” Her mother is clearly unwilling. A wave of pity for the Queen hits you. Your heart feels torn to shreds already from the loss of a friend, you cannot imagine what it would feel like to lose a son. 

Were you her mother, you would hold her all night if she asked. Or even sit by her, if it helped her feel less alone. The Seven knew you would have liked your father to support you in your grief.

“I’ll do it.” You offer, bravely. A few tears have fallen down your cheeks. You barely realize, focused on her. This is something you can do. You can help her. Comfort her. “I’ll stay with the Queen tonight.” 

“Were you listening to..?” The dowager Queen’s voice is harsh, grating in your ears. A tad embarrassed, you lower your eyes, but do not apologize nor take back your offer. You had been eavesdropping, of course. But they weren’t trying to be quiet either. 

“Yes. She will.” Queen Helaena says, absently. And that is it. 

That night, you find yourself in the Queen’s rooms. After her son was murdered, she moved into a more spacious and better guarded chamber. 

There are no maids in sight, so you draw the curtains shut yourself and blow off some candles as the Queen changes into her nightclothes. When she comes out of the bathing chamber, she sits on the bed and offers you a hairbrush, in absolute silence. 

You wonder if grief has taken her voice, as it has taken yours. You have not brought yourself to even name your betrothed aloud because a knot makes itself known in your throat each time you try. 

Instead of trying to hold what will surely be an awkward conversation, you obey her. You are careful to touch her as little as possible when unpinning her long, blonde hair and brushing it until it shines. Then, she gets under the covers. 

“Lay next to me.” She pleads, eyes closed. She pats the space next to her. 

The bed is marvelous. You are warm and tired, the covers just the right weight for you to feel comforted under them, but not smothered. 

You turn to face her. But the Queen has her back to you. You quietly say your nightly prayers and blow off the candle. 

It is then that it starts. 

Queen Helaena lets out a sigh, rolling on her side. You tense. 

“Can't you feel it?” She asks you, face scrunched up in discomfort. “This bed is so uncomfortable.” 

Buried under her blankets, warm and safe, you disagree. But you sit up regardless. 

“Shall I get you another pillow?”

“Leave it.” She scoffs, throwing her pillow away. 

Her tossing and turning doesn't stop the whole night. You understand why the Queen dowager didn't want to stay with her. 

You continue to offer her to change her pillows, to fix the bedding, but she denies you every time. When sunrise approaches, you have resigned yourself to just laying there, watching her twitch restlessly. You had given up on sleep a long time ago.

But a night is enough to convince you. Something is wrong. Not with the bed, but with the Queen. 

She requests your company again the next night. This time, you come prepared. Your fear of whatever is happening to her has turned into a dull sort of pity. 

“I have brought you chamomile tea, but also Milk of the Poppy. Perhaps it might make you sleep.” 

“I would like to try both.” She says, reaching for the vial of Milk of the Poppy without hesitation. She downs it fully, face strained. The lack of sleep has taken its toll on her. The dark circles under her eyes are darker than they had been yesterday, her cheeks a tad more sunken. 

No one can go without sleep for long. This, you know. 

The two of you lay down on the bed, and this time, she falls asleep. You allow yourself to drift off, knowing that the dose was big enough to have her rest the whole night. 

Milk of the Poppy is addictive. It probably is why the Maester hasn’t given her any, but the Queen needs to sleep. A night of good, deep sleep will be enough to get her by a few days. 

It feels like only a few minutes after when you jerk awake. Still in the clutches of sleep, you frown, wondering what is wrong. You can feel something is; otherwise you wouldn’t have woken. 

You turn on your side and notice the space next to you is empty. Your eyes open. Had someone entered and taken the Queen? You would have thought it impossible once, considering the Red Keep the safest place on earth. But after the death of Prince Jaehaerys…. 

You sit up and find her on the rocking chair, eyes bright as those of a cat. Her gaze is vacant and she doesn’t reply when you call for her. Alarmed, you shake her shoulder. Has the Milk of the Poppy poisoned her somehow? By the Seven, what had you done?

“There is a beast… Oh. It’s you.” The Queen says, after a few minutes of you frantically trying to get her attention. Her voice is rough, as if waking from a deep sleep. Her hands cradle your face, as if committing your features to memory. “It’s you.” 

You do not sleep after that. Neither does she.  For some reason, you do not feel tiredness. You are glad to be awake. Queen Helaena’s eyes are all pupils, and she doesn’t look tired either. You need to keep an eye on her. 

So you do. The both of you pace the room, sit on the bed, alternate places on the rocking chair. Neither of you sleep. 

It is then you realize. There is something wrong with the bed. 

The third night, the two of you ask the Maester for a concoction to help you sleep. A herbal tincture is delivered to Helaena’s rooms, and both of you each drink a cup.

Nothing happens at first. The two of you sit, side by side, on the bed. As you wait for sleep to come, tucked under the blankets like overly excited children, the Queen turns to look at you. 

Her eyes are wide and unnerving. Tonight, her pupils are normal, and she smells of herbs. You find yourself feeling impossibly shy, her gaze too lucid, too attentive. It feels as if she sees you to your very soul. 

“My name is Helaena.” She offers you, after a while. “I would like to use yours, if you allow it too.” 

“Of course.” You mutter, softly. And as you look away from her, the strangest thing happens. You see yourself, sitting on the floor and playing with a silver haired boy. You sit up. 

The image of yourself ripples. You are now laid on the carpet, and the Queen… Helaena cradles your head on her lap. 

You see your mother, sitting on the rocking chair. There is the Queen dowager, kissing Ser Criston. 

“What in the Seven..?” 

“So you see it too, tonight.” Helaena says, voice dreamy. Her hands come to your shoulders, pressing you back down on the bed. “It is like this for me. Always.” 

“What is happening?” You start to panic. You can tell the images around you aren’t real, but more like ghosts. It frightens you. Are they dead? But you just saw yourself. It can’t be that. “What is this?” 

“Dreams. Futures. Some of them. Some shall never pass.” You get a glimpse of yourself again, cradling the boy. The Prince, you realize. Prince Jaehaerys. “They are my dreams, and yours too.” 

“Oh.” Despite your frustration at not being able to sleep, you find them beautiful. You watch the little princess chase the boy, both playing with a ball. It's peaceful. 

The two of you spend the night awake, surrounded by children’s laughter. And if you drift a little closer, no one’s the wiser.

It all seems so peaceful, it doesn’t occur to you of what consequences it might bring. You do not feel your creeping exhaustion, but you begin to look it. There are dark circles under your eyes, your cheeks grow more gaunt. 

As you are having breakfast with the Queen dowager and the Queen, it occurs to you that you do not want to eat plain toast. You wish to ask one of them to pass you the small, yellow cube that is laying on top of a plate. Much to your horror, you cannot recall the word for it. 

“Could you please pass me the..?” And you point because you cannot name it. It’s yellow, and you use it to spread over the toast, but you do not know its name. 

“The…?” The Queen dowager asks. 

“The…” You point to it. You spread it over the toast with a knife, you wish to say, but you can’t remember the word. It begins to upset you. A sudden urge to cry out of frustration hits you, making your eyes water. 

“Oh, not you too.” The Queen dowager says, annoyed, as Helaena passes you the plate containing it. “What are the two of you doing? Playing a game?” 

“What do you mean, my Queen?” You frown. What is she referring to? 

“Helaena and you. Is that what you do at night, plan the tricks you will play on us?” 

Her statement only serves to confuse you further. You frown. 

“You should stop it. If you must, do it during the day, you both look too gaunt for my liking. Honestly, pretending not to know words…” 

“Helaena…” The Queen dowager sends you a withering look, so you correct yourself. “The Queen is forgetting words too?” 

“Honestly! I have had it with you two, girls. We are at war.” The Queen slams her hands on the table. “It is not the time to be playing tricks.” 

She leaves the room, huffing. It is only when she is out of earshot that Helaena speaks: 

“I have been missing words too. I think it’s from the lack of sleep.” 

“Gods.” You say, cradling your head between your hands. You really need to sleep. 

Helaena hums. The two of you start placing small notes on the objects in her room that very night. 

“This is the hairbrush.” You read the next morning, flabbergasted. “It serves to brush your hair. Comb it through.” 

“Pass it to me.” Helaena replies, taking it from you. “I think it is done like this.” 

She passes it through your hair. You wonder how you could forget such a heavenly feeling. 

The next and last night is nowhere near as heavenly. Helaena and you hug on the bed, terrified out of your minds. You had tried drinking another herbal concoction. Tonight, Helaena’s dreams weren’t so pleasant. 

There were two dragons, one large and dark-colored, and a red one. They were shrieking at each other, and roaring. Spitting out flames. And the two of you could only watch as they set ablaze the room. 

“Enough! Enough!” You suddenly jump up, and begin to try to drag a terrified Helaena out of her room. You manage to do so, and you lead her to your room. Both of you settle on the bed, cheeks still wet with tears. 

You fall asleep still holding hands. 

The next morning, a maid comes and changes the sheets on Helaena’s room. As she shakes the pillows and the mattress, a single pea rolls to the floor and hides underneath the dresser.

[mermaidfanficlibrary]

Oh I really like the idea for this event! Floriography is one of my favorite subjects. With that aside, I'd like to give Kaeya Alberich (Genshin Impact): Honeysuckle, Hibiscus and a Blue Rose.

The theme should be fluff with some angst.

Message: "This world could use a few more wild cards," or “You’re just… you’re extraordinary. “

‎‧₊🦋˚✧A Bouquet for you My dear✧˚🦋₊‧| Pt. 5 | You're extraordinary

Characters: Kaeya Alberich

Summary: Sending Kaeya Alberich Honeysuckle, Hibiscus, and Blue roses

Warnings: Just pure fluff

Taglist: None

Sending the chosen flowers to Kaeya Alberich... Loading now...

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Now sent! Would you like to wait for a response?

[> Yes] >No

Kaeya was walking back to the Knight’s of Favonius building after a long mission. As he walked to his office, one of his colleagues ran up to him. He looked at them with a curious smirk as he slowed down. His colleague put their hands on their knees, trying to catch their breath. It didn’t take long for the colleague to speak with pants in between his words. 

“Sir Kaeya! There's a delivery on your desk!”

Kaeya looked at his colleague with an amused face. He only nodded as he walked a bit faster to his office. He was very curious as to what he was sent and who sent him something. As he opened the door to his office, he was greeted with a beautiful flower arrangement. He walked up to the arrangement and eyed it curiously. He noticed a small tag that was attached to a letter, and mumbled it to himself. 

“Hm? To Kaeya, From Y/n… How intriguing.”

He carefully opened the letter that was attached to the name tag. His hands held it gently, as if it were a snowflake. He knew you had become really close with him, and he has too. He wanted to tell you, but he was unsure how. His mouth went agape as he read the first words.

You’re just…so extraordinary to me, and it is so overwhelming to feel so much for someone like this. No one could ever come close to how much I want to know and understand you. You leave everyone awestruck, even myself, and I couldn’t have asked to know someone more amazing than you. You bring a smile to my face, and I hope to bring a smile to yours. I always get this warm feeling inside, this safety when I see you smile my way and for a moment I think nothing will ever hurt me. You make me see all these new colors that I’ve never known existed.

Honeysuckle: True Happiness

I only ever wish for you to have the truest form of happiness. I want to be the reason you smile because your smile is like the sunshine! I can’t get enough of it, and it makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. Nothing makes me smile more than seeing you looking my way with that welcoming smile on your face. It brightens my day when I just see you smiling at anything, but I especially love when that smile is directed at me. I want to make you happy because you deserve it. You’ve been through so much, you deserve never ending happiness.

Blue Roses: Mystery

Your eyes are filled with this aura of mystique. And you’re whole past, I want to know more about it. You have me trapped within this curious feeling of wanting to know every piece of information there is to know about you. The good, the bad, and the ugly because I wish to know it all! Nothing could keep me away because you are so intriguing. Whenever I look into your eyes, I see this breathtaking world of which I have never seen. I want nothing more than to uncover your mystery and know you so much more than I already do.

Hibiscus: Rare Beauty

I have never met someone like you, and when I first saw you, I was enchanted. You were a breath of fresh air from all the people I had met in this world. Your beauty rivals everything in this world, both the beauty of people and the scenery. You plague my thoughts and I wish I could imprint you in my brain, so your beauty is immortalized. You have me entrapped within your web and I couldn’t be happier. Nothing has made me happier after I see you, every time I walk into Mondstadt I always hope that you’re there. I always want to see you, but I feel like I need a reason too.

— Sincerely your biggest supporter, Y/n

He was so happy that you wrote him this note, and sent him these glorious flowers that were proof of your love and admiration for him. He left his office in the Knight of Favonious and ran to find you. You were in Windrise and now suddenly tackled to the ground by none other than the Calvary Captain himself. He peppered your face with kisses and a huge smile on his face. You meant so much to him, and now he knew that he meant a lot to you.

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[simlit]

Chosen of the Sun | | dawn // forty-three

| @amuhav

next / previous / beginning

KYRIE: Elion? KYRIE: My hero. Fast asleep on the clock. ELION: And look, you’re stood there without a scratch. This job is so easy I can do it with my eyes closed. TAYUIN: You should take it more seriously. If he’s hurt, it’s on you. ELION: Fiery little faerie, aren’t you? Are you going to start barking if I get too close? KYRIE: Knock it off. ELION: I’ll assume your sour moods means this was a fully clothed outing? How unfortunate for me. Next time I tell you to loosen up, do take it literally. KYRIE: scoffs We’re going back now. ELION: Sure, sure. Lead the way, Oh Moonlit One. KYRIE: Thank you for coming out with me, and for… the other thing. TAYUIN: It was no trouble. KYRIE: There’s still time before the next trial, if you want to talk about… anything… well, you know where to find me. TAYUIN: It was nice. KYRIE: What? TAYUIN: It was a nice day, before, well, you know… But, for what it’s worth, I enjoyed the time away. KYRIE: I’m really glad. ELION: I’ve never found conservative types like you interesting. So very measured and polite about everything. If you love the little winged beastie, you should say so loudly and with great vigor. KYRIE: I’m not in love with Tayuin. ELION: Are you very sure about that? KYRIE: Why do you care so much, anyways? ELION: I don’t. Just casually reminding you yet again that this could all be over tomorrow. KYRIE: What do you mean? ELION: You’re being hunted, remember? Or have you already forgotten why I’m here? I expect you’ve come to realize the significance of it. Instead of sending your pets to do your dirty work, you could try simply asking. KYRIE: You… know Tay stole the ransom letter. ELION: Of course I know. Your High Priestess might not be privy to your scheming, but that’s because it’s my job. And frankly, I’m getting exhausted giving out all these opportunities for you to be honest with me. KYRIE: Not only are you highly observant, you’re also annoyingly intuitive. ELION: An elf of many talents, if you will. KYRIE: Then, enough about my honesty. How about you be a little more forthcoming? What do you know of the Knights of Dawn? ELION: I know they’re a disgruntled bunch of agitators that have become a particularly obtuse thorn in the church’s side as of late. KYRIE: Who are they? ELION: No one knows. All members of this group keep their true identities strictly confidential. They work as an anonymous, but highly organized unit. Their abduction of your sister was likely months in the making. And considering just how well-guarded you lunar priests are, it’s almost certain they’re working off of inside information. KYRIE: They’ve infiltrated the clergy? ELION: Mm, without a doubt. It’s rather problematic, if I’m honest. Spreading panic is only a fraction of the problem; The more people who know about the plot, the more risky it becomes when any and everyone is a possible suspect. KYRIE: Then, it’s no wonder they called in an anori. Your rank alone acts as deterrent. ELION: And you’re very lucky I’m here, but do I get a single thank you? I’m underappreciated! (sob sob) KYRIE: Then, this was their scheme all along. Wait for an opening to take one of us, and use them as a bartering chip. ELION: Yes, but you two have the unfortunate advantage of being twins. For their plan to work, they have to take the spare off the table. KYRIE: And if the church doesn’t agree to their terms? ELION: It’s a small mercy they’re offering with the ransom. The High Priestess knows this well. It is more than sure your sister will not survive this, all she can do is be certain that you do.