#so hopefully i get around to writing an evie post | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fluffytriceratops · 2 years

Text

Random facts about Nefertiri. <3

Again, drew her older for the hell of it. I love Nefertiri so much, she’s such a wee Angel. Raphie is very proud of his little book worm and Kristina enjoys having a mini version of her lol. 😊👌

I drew this one around the same time as the Monet one, I just haven’t posted it yet lmao. I’m having a bit of art block rn, so I haven’t been drawing anything TMNT related lately. I really want to, but any time that I go to draw something involving TMNT my brain basically short circuits and I can never figure out what to draw lol. Hopefully this’ll pass soon. ^v^

Tags: @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @digitl-art-monstr @turtle-babe83 @mysticboombox @leosgirl82 @drowninghell @lec743 @raphslovemuffin80 @post-apocalyptic-daydream @squirrelfurs @bibiz82

(If you would like to be tagged in my future TMNT (+tmnt oc) related work, feel free to let me know and I'll happily add you!)

Have a lovely day/night! I'm sending the very many virtual huggles to you!! Remember to take care of yourselves!!! <33

—

- She was named after a character from The Mummy Returns, one of Kristina’s favourite movies. In the movie, Nefertiri is the pharaohs daughter, the princess of Egypt and the guardian of “the bracelet of Anubis”. Kristina had been obsessed with the films since a young age, and because of her own Egyptian background, wanted to name her daughter something involving it. Plus, Evie/Rachel Weisz is 👌💕

- Loves spicy, sour and bitter foods. The complete opposite of her sister. And when I say spicy, I mean spicy. It’s her shit. And she barley breaks a sweat.

- Due to a complication, Nefertiri doesn’t have a shell or a plastron. She has what appears to be parts of a shell that never fully grew on her back, but besides that she’s completely bare. Like that of a human. Except with green scale covered skin, of course. Among other mutant features.

- Most people call her Nefertiri, but she also goes by a nickname, Tiri. It’s her most common alias besides her actual name.

- Her snout is always buried in a book. She lives and breathes to read, write, and learn new things.

- Tries to pull jokes like her sister Monet, but she’s terrible at it. And her form of a good joke are dad jokes, they’re her go to. Monet hates it, but she finds them very amusing.

- Like her ma, she has a photographic memory. Her family/friends like to tease her about being an encyclopedia/dictionary because she knows and remembers so much stuff.

- Because of her Auntie Iris (@digitl-art-monstr 's OC) Tiri found a passion for art/painting and does so in her spare time quite often. And because she's been doing it since she was a kid, she's actually quite talented at it. It becomes a passion of hers, and eventually a way for her to express her feelings and vent. Plus she gets to hang out with Iris more, which is great.

- Nefertiri went through a series of complications when she was born. This created a lot of health issues that she constantly struggles with. Her family wasn't even sure she was going to make it, in fact, there were a few occasions where she almost didn't. After Kristina's C-section Nefertiri and Monet were both placed into incubators where they would remain the rest of their term till they were ready to be born and brought into the world. Monet seemed to be doing fine, more than fine even. But Nefertiri almost immediatly started going down hill. Donatello hardly left the lab, and neither did Raphael and Kristina. Monet was able to come out of her incubator as soon as her term was up, but Nefertiri was forced to stay in hers for a few more months. She had been growing much more slowly than her twin sister. And was much more fragile because of it.

- The first few years of Tiri's life were the hardest. Everyone was afraid that even the smallest fall would be very damaging and possibly even fatal. Her immune system was basically non-existent, and therefore it was much easier for her to get sick as well. Everyone treated her as if she was made of glass. Or the finest of crysal. Bumps and bruises were taken much more serisouly, and she wasn't allowed near anyone when they had even the most basics of colds/illnesses. Nefertiri was basically forced to sit on the sidelines wrapped in bubblewrap watching as Monet and her cousins lived a relatively normal childhood. Raphael was scared to be too close to her, worried he'd accidentally hurt her. It took a lot of courage from his family before he was even convinced he could hold his daughter. For the first few years of Tiri's life, she didn't know much besides the main rooms of the lair (she wasn't allowed in certain rooms) and Donnie's lab where she got daily check ups.

- But the older she got, the stronger she got as well. She's still extremely fragile in comparason to her siblings (yes, there's more than just Monet and Tiri hehe) but she learns to hold her own quite well. Or at least, well enough.

- Tiri grew to be quite envious of her family/friends due to these reasons. She spent a lot of time alone because she wasn't allowed to play with the other's at first. And the only ones who she really spent time with, were the adults. When Monet got to start training, Nefertiri still wasn't strong enough phyiscally to do so. Tiri was very upset about this, and even Monet grew insistent that her sister join in, but the adults believed it was too risky for Nefertiri to start training yet. Colds could even become fatal for her if they weren't careful. So not only did Tiri start later in life, but she also started training later as well. At least, so the adults believe... Late at night, when everyone was asleep, Monet would sneak out of bed and take Tiri with her. Than she would teach her everything she learned the day before. This became a nightly routine of there's. A secret which was later revealed.

- Despite lacking in certain areas physically, Nefertiri was quite advanced intellectly. Especially with being around Kristina and Donnie 24/7. She has a love for knowledge, just like her mother. And prides herself on being extremely intelligent.

- Because she has no shell, Donnie created one for her. Just like how he created his Battle Shell to protect his own soft shell. (I have yet to design this, so I don't know much about it rn-)

- Nefertiri's weapon of choice is the kusarigama.

- Tiri tends to be quite rational and calm, and is usually seen as the voice of reason, especially when it comes to her sister, Monet. However, she can lose her cool under stress.

- "There's a place for everything, and everything has a place."

- Nefertiri has a confident and responsible, if somewhat controlling, personality. She tends to worry if things get out of control. She is very organized. She developed a need to be a perfectionist. She enjoys being the most organized of the family and can’t help but encourage others to do the same. As well as being a driven individual, Tiri dedicated her free time to training as well as studying.

- She does seem to be more empathic than her sister, Monet when it comes to understanding other people’s feelings and daily problems. She tends to express many concerns for her friends and would even go out of her way to try and do the impossible for them.

- Although Nefertir is often the most conscientious and considerate of her siblings, at times she can be pedantic and controlling, once even suggesting that she considers chewing a prescribed number of times before swallowing as a normal practice. Being the responsible one, she constantly reminds her siblings and her friends to do their work and is often paranoid when things aren’t organized. This tends to drive those around her insane at times when she stressed about it too often.

- Often times, she doesn’t listen to what other people say and assumes the situation for the worse. When push comes to shove, she would often show-off and proves to others that she can be more or just as skilled as they are in certain events.

- Tiri often would disagree and argue with Monet, who is her polar opposite. While in contrast to Monet’s rebellious and care-free personality, Nefertiri is controlling and organized and because of their opposite personalities and different ideals, Tiri and Mo often argue and have various conflicts, leaving friend's/cousins/family members stuck in the middle of their fight. Also, another trait for Nefertiri is bossy. While arguing with Monet, she bosses her around but no knowing that it sometimes hurts her feelings.

- At the end of the day, however, Mo and Tiri are extremely close and love and value each other deeply. They look up to each other a lot, and are there for each other no matter what, even if they are fighting.

- Also, stress painting because yes-

37 notes · View notes

risingshards · 11 months

Text

Progress update on my big writing fall season extravaganza!

Rising Shards (includes Evy & Stella):

Chapters: 37 / 51 - 72.5%

Reborn in a Fantasy Game with My Rival:

Chapters: 20 / 30 - 66%

Word count goal: 34,578 / 45,000 - 76%

(RS word count not included because the Tapas contest has a specific word count in mind and my current RS document has a bunch of episodes in it so word count calculation is a bit tough)

I got a comment from one of my dear readers that expressed concern about me taking on a ton of writing and possibly burning out and that did make me pause and realize I can't push too hard even with the tight goal of Reborn/the Tapas contest. I have a big push over the next few weeks as the climax of this extra writing for the fall, and have two vacations from writing planned at the end of this month and the end of the year so that will hopefully help with any potential burnout.

It's kind of exciting to be in the home stretch of this; it was very recent I didn't think I'd be having any kind of new series out there, and now I'm about 2/3rds to 3/4ths of the way through depending on the metric. I was thinking I'd rewrite some fanfics but I've ended up mostly writing something totally new (some chapters were from prototypes of the project, it ended up taking more from my troubled Project ZERO than anything in a fanfics). Also shoutouts to my beloved bestie for letting me bounce ideas off of them and letting me know the fanfic idea was boring, it helped this project out greatly!!

I was worried RS would be difficult to keep up with, what with a sudden extra 45k words to deal with, but having a more work-y project makes RS feel super comforting. I've written some nice and soft chapters and any time I get to get back to the RS squad it's really healing for me. So I think taking on this challenge has been really good for me; I was having trouble with writing discipline and burnout for various reasons (mostly the huge depressive episode this year has been I think), but having something new like activated a lot in my brain and I feel like my creative juices are flowing.

For an example of that, last weekend I was having some break days (my like "omg i love my RS characters sm" posting and "WOW LET'S MAKE A NEW COVER FOR REBORN" cover-making were a result of me taking days off) and had some ideas for one of my other WIPs, Wolves of Hope and Stardust, which is me trying to repurpose the old drafts of Rising Shards when it was a fantasy adventure story, so different that I don't consider it a RS thing. With some elements (characters, chapters, concepts) I was gonna put in WOHAS ending up in Reborn, I was thinking about what to do with this thing now. I thought about making it about the generation before Zeta and be in the RS verse again, but there are some big issues there as the generation before Zeta are major villains in RS and not the like "Fun, wanna see them as protags," kind. The kind where I don't know if people would want more of them. I also don't know if a project I want to try to shop around for tradpub should have any ties to my other stuff; I feel like a publisher wouldn't want that (would they???) due to the complicated ownership of things. So I think it may be best to have that as its own universe not connected to anything. Reborn's in its own universe too, so it's kind of fun to write things that aren't part of a big crossover universe. Next steps for this one are to confirm some new names (for like the fifth time), and to do some world building. I'm reading a lot of fantasy books as of late for my book club and for friends that really want me to read some series, so I might look to those for inspiration for where to take this project next.

—Chiral

#chiral writes #writeblr #this ended up rly long hahaha BUT GOOD VIBES #rising shards #reborn in a fighting game with my rival #wohas #d6r #I have to do some work on collab project too soon #maybe after this big rush if I'm still motivated to write #genuinely I LOVE WRITINGGGGGG

2 notes · View notes

vitani-carnis · 3 months

Text

Finally it's time to talk about...

Jill Sprouse...

Or rather, Vitani's teenage years and early adulthood before they went to Atlanta. This is an extra long post since it covers 9 jam-packed years. Honestly I should write out some detailed memories and junk too... MASSIVE TW for character death (not described but Jill is basically the wife that got fridged in some superhero/action story fr. But obviously not V's wife, just their caregiver whom V worshiped basically) and A SUPER DUPER BIG ONE for attempted sui stuff. V is very sad here and only stops for the dumbest reason (but not really, I'll explain it later). Also it's implied that V has seen the XBD that Jill was in firsthand (only for a little bit to get info on a guy who they gotta kill), so that's unpleasant. I really tormented this baby with this arc and made them relive it with Evie.

Jillian Sprouse was a nineteen-year-old doll that V met when they were crying on their stoop over their family straight up dropping them. Jill, who already had her problems (not that V ever knew), took them in. There was little chance Vitani would've survived long without her either, they were exceptionally easy prey as a homeless "girl"; Jill wasn't sure she could turn them away, despite everything telling her to do so.

Within six months, Jill was their legal guardian (I imagine it'd be way too easy to adopt a kid in this universe, laissez-faire capitalism and all that, probably just really expensive.) She couldn't find a trace of this kid's parents anywhere, and it didn't help that it took a good month before they gave her a last name to do so. Vitani told her, "I don't have a last name anymore. They aren't my family."

Every time it made Jill give a groaning sigh. This was going to be *way* harder than she thought.

And oh boy, it was. For Jill, at least. V had never felt so loved and understood and taken care of. It was exactly how they imagined it would feel, but even better. As for Jill's time? It was exactly how she imagined having a little sibling and a child, rolled into one. V was annoying, weirdly obsessed with a terrorist (seriously, did they ever take that Samurai jacket off?), and generally just vaguely off-putting.

It took Jill almost a year to start liking V. Despite how off they were and how having them around chewed through her wallet, they weren't... that bad...

She'd realized, that V was probably one of the better kids to get stuck with. They stayed clean, got good grades in everything but math, and didn't ask for much. They even stopped constantly talking about some sixty-year-old band so much. Even if she had to take more life-draining shifts at the dollhouse, it was almost worth it.

To V, it wasn't. They hated the fact that Jill was a doll. Not because she hated dolls either not anymore, at least (they weren't *all* like her mom). They didn't like it because Jill didn't like it, but when they mentioned getting a new job, all she did was shake her head and say, "I'm a little too in deep, don't worry though, it's adult stuff."

Jill was only five years older than V, how did she even know what 'adult stuff' was? They were fifteen! Practically an adult already...

If they knew anything about adults (and V liked to think they did), the problem was money. That was always the problem, at least for their parents. They just needed to make money... somehow...

V started by hacking various machines around town. It started with small stuff, mostly old arcade machines that no one would care about to learn how things worked, they spent months trying to figure out bigger things; vending machines, newer gen arcades, electronic pachinko machines. Things hopefully no one would kill them over. Miraculously, they never got caught either (of course it helped when you threw rocks at the cameras). It wasn't much, but it was something.

At sixteen, V learned how to box. They thought it'd be more lucrative to start street fighting with the other non-chromed kids in Heywood. Quickly, they realized that most kids did not fight fair, and often in their first fights they froze. For a moment, every single opponent reminded them of their parents. After ten fights of getting their ass beat and losing whatever cash they had been scrounging for months, they finally won.

They didn't remember how it happened, just that one moment, they were getting a jab to the face and the next they were on top of their opponent and squeezing the life out of them... It almost reminded them of their brother. That was the moment they let go. The fight had been won, V took the money home, a grim look on their face so no one would steal it... Then they cried.

Most nights, both V and Jill came home crying. Both were bruised, both mildly disgusted. V would try to have some meal plated for her and a bath ready. They had a plan, a dream even; to get the hell out of Night City and never look back.

In a few months, the sound of bombs was the only thing you could hear in Night City.

Luckily for V and Jill, most of them dropped in Pacifica, near where the NUSA were taking land for themself. Either way, it was business as usual for the proles of the city. All V did was listen back on some old albums about how shitty war was, to remind themself that joining was not an option, even if the pay was good. Oh, that and more fighting, everyone watching always keeping an ear and eye on the sky.

It was over quickly; if you can call a year of war 'quick'. To everyone who lost something or someone, it felt like an eternity of hearing that whistle of bombs, and the sirens letting people know about them. They'd lost a part of Pacifica to some douche named Kurt Hansen and got fucked by letting Arasaka resume business as usual. Things would only go downhill from here. All the more reason to delta in V's opinion.

Yet there was never enough money, always more fights to barely win, always more "I can't V, you know we can't just up and leave..."

It was always questions without answers with Jill. They guessed it didn't matter. She had her reasons. It didn't mean she didn't do her best. After all, Jill was perfect. Perfectly beautiful, perfectly just, always right... It would just be a little longer, a little more money. In the meantime, they could sit in the park, watch movies, whatever. It never mattered where they were to V, so long as they were together.

That meant following Jill to her job, to the store, to hang out with her more Mox-aligned friends. V was certain it drove her crazy but... there was something on the horizon, they could feel it. Something would happen and Jill would leave...

It took about two whole years for V to be proven right.

At twenty-two, almost twenty-three, V didn't follow Jill for one night. That was all it took. She was gone for a week when one of her friends stopped by, in tears. All that registered was...

Jill. Dead. XBD

There was no way this was happening. V could not be alone, again... This wasn't real.

They found out for themself that it was.

V felt like a snake's fang; lethal and hollow, they spent a day stewing in the misery before making a call.

Wakako, that old vulture, V knew her fairly well, at least as well as most others did. Some old fixer they'd bumped into on Jig Jig street and stopped by to win it big at Pachinko ever since (not that V spent much on it, of course). They almost every enny they had and practically begged her for some help. All she had to do was find him, V swore they'd do the rest.

Truthfully, they knew whoever that guy in that accursed BD wasn't the real root of evil. He was a pawn, maybe paid a fraction of what that BD made on the black market. They weren't sure if she'd even find him, all V really saw was that he had a tattoo.

For weeks they rotted in the apartment. Rent was almost due, and they weren't sure they could get rid of anything to pay it. With the very last of their savings, they had bought a gun. Killing that *monster* would be the last thing they ever did.

Really, they never should've doubted Wakako, she was one of the best for a reason. She found him, found out when he'd be alone... It was all V needed to do, then everything would be over.

It was about four in the morning, early November, and the moon was full. That was what they remembered. He didn't have a face to V, didn't have a voice even as he screamed. They had bought the gun but... No. He didn't deserve anything quick. It was too easy, too merciful. They just used the cheap pistol to empty a few shots into each leg, just so that he couldn't escape. There was a pipe, like some miracle, just lying there and they couldn't help but smile and-

It took ten minutes in total. V couldn't stop smiling the whole time and they wondered if that was how death should feel. To have their heart beat so fast, on the verge of some frenzy. It was almost like a regular fight, just better. The problem was solved.

No.

No. No.

No.

V was a monster for this, not even just killing him, but for liking it. Ten minutes of hearing a guy gurgle and choke on his own blood and they had enjoyed every second.

Jill would've hated them for this...

The walk back home was surprisingly short. Crawling back into the darkened apartment they contemplated the inevitable. They had one bullet left. That was all it would take.

V's hands shook. Despite knowing that this was all they could possibly do now, the idea of there being nothing still scared them. Maybe they could delay it by adding a Columbarium marker for them both beforehand, but they weren't even sure what they'd put. No words that they could think of could ever really say everything they needed to. Nothing they said would ever be perfect...

Like in most times of need, a certain someone was always there for them. It felt so... stupid. Unbelievably cheesy, even; but when the Morro rock station started playing Never Fade Away, they just couldn't do it. The muzzle had been pressed to their temple, they had been so ready and...

With a sigh, they dropped it, and they were lucky it didn't go off.

The marker made was simple, at the back of the stony cemetery.

A gift to all who knew her. May I never change, and you never fade away.

She might've hated the reference, though, V guessed it was more for themself than her. They'd always been rather selfish. If they ever came back, they would have this as a reminder. To never change. To never forget.

And that's when V fucked off to Atlanta, yes I have many thoughts on how all this relates to SilverV somehow (like how Johnny's first words to V is "kill urself" essentially and how a Samurai song literally made them not do that). I will be giving my thoughts on this junk specifically. I know this was long and probably won't be as seen, but if you read this to the end, omg ty!

Luv ya! Bye!!

#cp2077 #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk oc #fem v #nonbinary v #v cyberpunk #fem v cyberpunk #v cp2077 #cyberpunk v #teal ghost #That's Jill's tag #the solo one I guess #may I never change-may you never fade away #subject to actually change because V changes her marker after the game #idk to what yet though #vitani carnage

1 note · View note

joesbbqandfootmassage · 5 years

Text

Jane and Carlos in D3:

A Thanksgiving Feast

So I have already made my obligatory Janelos defense post that every blog on this website owes them, and I will link that here.

But I kind of barely touched on just how good they are in D3. Like, insanely good.

Devie and Janelos are the God tier Descendants ships and somebody had to say it.

It figures that Disney would choose to focus on the basic dynamic that is Bal even though they have two amazing VK/AK pairings to work with.

I ain’t saying they needed to kick Ben and Mal from the series because I do still think they’re cute, I’m just saying that Devie and Janelos also deserved their own Enchanted Lake First Date Scene.

Now in D2 both ships were given roughly three major scenes to work with and then of course all of their background dance scenes in You and Me.

Both Janelos and Devie doing different variations of the hug and spin number. (Holy fluff the Devie one was fantastic)

And they both had pretty good character arcs as well.

While Bal pretty much have the same character arc every movie, Janelos and Devie approach one thing at a time. In D2 that was Evie reaffirming to Doug that she wants him, not a stereotypical prince. Strengthening their relationship.

Meanwhile Janelos was giving both Carlos and Jane the chance to step out of their bubbles and explore this new sensation called love.

And you can really believe the time that has passed between these relationships when D3 finally rolls around.

Naturally Jane and Carlos are a touchy-feely kind of couple, linking arms and wrapping arms around shoulders and a lot of background hugs that were cut from the film.

Normally this would probably annoy me, but in this case it makes sense for Carlos and Jane because of his touch starvation.

Jane is able to hold onto him like it's just something normal for her to do with him, unlike any person on the Isle ever.

So in D3 you can see how comfortable they are with one another and just with affection in general.

But that's not all D3 has to offer for them, oh no.

Because D3 is also the movie where Carlos' evolution to Hero of the Isle is the most evident.

It's something you can finally see in every little action.

I'm gonna be honest, D3 should have been Evie's movie.

My sister and I pointed this out as we read all of the VK's posters and saw that Mal's had her’s as, "The Liberator."

To which we both went, "That is a bunch of fluffing BS."

Because everybody knows that it was EVIE'S idea to start transferring kids over to the Isle.

I can't even imagine how many meetings she had to attend, presentations she had to give and trouble she had to deal with from the higher ups.

Because D3 is when they are finally able to bring Dizzy over to Auradon and they've already graduated high school at this point.

And yet, Mal gets the praise.

Mal gets the credit.

And when they encounter their first bump in the road, it's Mal who shuts down the program. Destroying all of Evie's hard work.

While it’s not an official term used, I’ve been calling Carlos, Evie and Uma all “Heroes of the Isle.” Mainly because most, if not all, of their most prominent actions in the films (when actually given any) have been for the sake of the Isle and the children they wish to protect and save.

And it can switch from Heroes of the Isle to Heroes from the Isle, mostly depending on what stance my argument has.

This stance being tilted toward Janelos, though I will probably post another rant talking about how Evie should have been the main character of D3.

Now this is the first time we see Carlos actively having someone to protect since Dude in D1, the second he returns to Auradon from the Isle he calls Jane several times. He then spends a good deal of the movie before Jane comes back being mopey. Which is something you notice if you watch a movie three times in a row and those two other times all you do is look at Carlos.

It’s an interesting thought to have in your head, Carlos - A Protector.

While interesting, it never surprised me.

You can see a lot of his protectiveness in D2 when they return to the Isle, with him usually being the first one to charge.

And it only took me so long to notice that because I’ve had an image of Carlos built in my head.

Nothing can ruin your outlook of a character faster than the fandom’s perception of them.

If you listened to all the people going on and on about how Shaggy from Scooby-Doo is clearly coded to be a stoner, you might miss that he was a star gymnast and a pro-golfer. How many of y’all knew that Daphne was a straight A student?

The Descendants’ fandom has usually painted Carlos as the obligatory, “Smol bean, too precious for this world. Must protecc.”

Which is fine, if the character is clearly supposed to be interpreted as those things.

Carlos, while definitely too good for both the Isle and Auradon, is not a weak and helpless character. Sure he’s soft spoken and really really nice, like omg there is no way him and Cruella share the same DNA, but he also did really well in tourney and fencing.

He’s perceptive and quick to adapt.

And on top of all of that, he’s hurt.

So many years of being a doormat on the Isle, not only for his mother but every other person that looked down on him.

Despite all of that, he still cares about people.

He still has so much love to give to people he knows need it.

And in D3, Carlos seems to finally know who he is when separated from the VK or AK title.

He wants to help VKs transfer onto Auradon.

He wants a place to house lost boys and girls who were like him, no safe place to go.

He wants to be a vet.

And he wants to love Jane.

When he reunites with Jane in the second act of the movie, you can see that it’s not just Carlos that feels this way.

Once again, just like in D2, Jane fully reciprocates all of his feelings maybe even more so with the way she always renders his breathless every time.

Jane and Carlos give and receive love with no counter or limit in sight, they snuggle and hug and just... touch.

They make promises to stay safe, to keep each other safe, to stay together.

Always surprising the other with the reminder that they do indeed love each other.

Because they were two lonely kids that needed to love and be loved.

And the trilogy ends giving both of them exactly that.

And this is all just whatever I can glean from the movies.

When Amazon finally decides to send me all of the books it’s over for you hoes.

#Believe it of not #i still have plenty of things to say about carlos and janelos #but i just really needed to cover the importance of them in d3 because it was keeping me up at night #i also have a lot to say about evie because i adore her almost as much as i adore jane and carlos #so hopefully i get around to writing an evie post #descendants #descendant 3 #carlos de vil #jane daughter of fairy godmother #janelos #jane x carlos

18 notes · View notes

ricochetoconnell · 3 years

Note

I wish you would write a fic where Rick and Evie just goof off together and are happy.

Speaking of delayed prompt answers. I'm not entirely happy with this, but I was randomly inspired by a certain birthday, so I wanted to get this out today. Hopefully it's at least a little enjoyable, if very rushed!

..........

The burning wreckage of what had once aspired to be a birthday cake might have been enough to bring tears to Evelyn's eyes, if it hadn't been for the man holding it. She had been astounded, two days prior, to learn that Rick didn't recall anyone ever baking him a birthday cake. So, despite her ineptitude in the kitchen, Evy had spent most of the morning carefully measuring and mixing ingredients, determined to make this the first in a long line of happy birthday memories for her husband.

And now it was charcoal.

But as the frenzy of the moment began to settle, it was peals of laughter that escaped her instead of tears, as her husband stood in the middle of their kitchen wearing nothing but an oven mitt and a bewildered expression.

"I'm glad you find this so funny." Rick's tone was wry as he upturned the pan and discarded the smoldering brick of overdone batter into the bin, but she could see the amusement twinkling in his eyes and turning up the corners of his mouth.

"It was your fault, after all," Evy chastised, once she had caught her breath enough to speak, though any sternness was lost between more giggles.

"My fault? I wasn't the one strutting around the house in nothing but that short little robe." To prove his point, Rick's eyes fell to the expanse of thigh that the robe in question left bare. Despite the fact that they had both been sated, very recently, she felt a frisson of heat in his gaze, a searing reminder of what had distracted them so thoroughly as to forget the cake in the first place.

"At least I'm wearing a robe," she returned, arching a pointed eyebrow at his state of undress. It was lucky for Rick that Jonathan had -- loudly and rather wisely -- made himself scarce for the day, with a promise to return in time for a celebratory dinner.

Rick followed Evy's line of sight, looking somewhat startled to find himself still in -- quite literally -- his Birthday Suit. And then he shrugged and laughter bubbled from him as well, his own amusement getting to him now that the situation had been handled.

"Yeah well, someone had to stop you from burning the house down." He placed the empty pan on the stove top and sidled up to her, using the oven mitt he was still wearing to cup her bottom and sweep her in against his chest. "I didn't even get to enjoy the afterglow."

Evy dissolved into another fit of giggles as she thought about the way his nostrils had flared and his eyes had widened as the world had returned to them post-coitus, how cute his butt had looked as he had disappeared out of their bedroom door in a panic to get to the kitchen.

He waited her laughter out, not quite patiently, and she rewarded him by pressing closer and kissing him soundly. "Let me make it up to you?"

"Mm, just how do you propose to do that?" He hummed in response, leaning in for another kiss.

But she was already spinning away, gathering the ingredients left over from the day’s first attempt at baking. "By making you a cake."

Rick sighed, a bit regretfully, she thought, and discarded the oven mitt. "Alright, but this time I'm supervising."

"Only if you put on some clothes." She looked up from the cookbook she had just opened to give him another once-over, taking her time to enjoy the view. "Or we'll burn the next one, too."

When Jonathan returned home a couple of hours later, it was to find them hunched over a freshly decorated cake, forks in hand. "Is this dinner, then?" He inquired, joining them at the island counter.

"Are you kidding? I've seen you cook, and I'm not about to risk you burning something else." With a cheeky grin and a few quick steps he was out the door just before she was able to snap a towel at his bare behind.

"Yes well, we may have… run out of time to make anything else," Evy explained with a look that just dared her brother to make any further comments. When he proved himself smart enough to keep his mouth shut, she flourished a fork of his own at him. "And don't look at it like that. It's not going to bite you."

Jonathan's skeptical hum as he took the utensil and carved out a bite for himself made her wish she had poked him after all, but the surprised look on his face when he found himself with a mouthful of perfectly edible -- even quite delicious -- cake was worth it.

"I say. Nice work, old mum. And here I thought you would have burned the whole place down by the time I got back."

Rick nearly earned himself the pointy end of her fork when he snorted, loudly, next to her. It was the warm depth of affection in his eyes when he turned to her that saved him. "Best birthday cake I've ever had. Thank you, sweetheart."

"You're welcome. Happy birthday, Rick." She leaned in to kiss away the icing that had gathered at the corner of her husband's mouth, her heart full of love for this little family of hers. Maybe their traditions would end up just as unconventional as everything else in their lives, but they would be theirs, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

#my fic #asks #the mummy #rick o'connell #evelyn o'connell #rick x evy #fanfic

48 notes · View notes

sweet-faerie-mossbell · 3 years

Text

I always feel so much better for having written in the morning. I feel like I wrote a post about this already, but it struck me again this morning. It’s like a centeredness that I don’t get from other creative processes, and I think maybe it’s because it’s my “one true creative love” or whatever.

I slept with my moss agate frog under my pillow last night but had strange dreams, so writing just sort of got out all the thoughts floating around. I slept with it mostly because I was talking to my friend Evie and we were talking about why the worm moon is called the worm moon and it’s because the worms all wake up from hibernation in march and I was like “wait they hibernate?” and I looked it up and yes they do and I wanted to hibernate like them, so she goes “well take an earth stone to bed, that’s almost the same.”

But anyway:

I am really really glad that I have the energy to write at the moment, and I really want this to continue in a big way. I gotta be really careful not to burn out though, because that shit is a real possibility.

Also I still have that fucking headache from yesterday. Hopefully the painkillers kick it out today.

#Mossie Mumbles #Writing my beloved #Writing #I am tired today #because of this headache #But I also feel good #Worms

4 notes · View notes

ithebookhoarder · 4 years

Text

Chapter 10: Four Years Later. (The Gangster’s Daughter)

Masterlist:

Also available on AO3:

Warnings: Original Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Explicit Language, Gangsters, Period Typical Attitudes, Parent Tommy Shelby, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent.

1919

-------

Time had never gone by so slowly. Ever. Of that, Evie was sure.

Never before, had a second felt so much like a minute, nor a minute felt so much like an hour. It was driving her insane as she sat at the kitchen table, eyes fixed firmly on the clock hanging by the door. The peeler in her hand had long since stopped, as had the two black hands dangling teasingly on the clock face.

“Come on,” Evie whispered. Somehow, she hoped willing it would be enough to hurry time up. To push the hands further round and towards the hour. The hour she’d been waiting so long for. Hell, even Finn and Ada sat beside her, completing their chores in an attempt to distract themselves.

Waiting was not a Shelby strong suit.

Ada yawned, visibly uninterested in the task at hand. She had also given up on her task of de-podding peas. Then again, it wasn’t just impatience to blame for her lack of productivity. The exhaustion was all too clear in Ada’s eyes. She probably had only got back a few hours ago from Freddie’s. Since he’d returned from the war a couple weeks ago they’d been all over each other.

Before the war, they’d been bad enough, beginning to scurry about the streets together on secret dalliances. However, separated by the sea, Ada had been writing him, slipping him letters in the wedge she delivered to the post office on behalf of all of them. Polly, Finn, Evie, Martha and Ada had all written to their family, telling them tales of life in Birmingham without them.

It had felt like a world away from Small Heath. The closest they’d got were the letters frequently dropped to and from France, detailing and describing the carnage and chaos abroad. True, Ada had passionately decided to become a nurse only a few months into the war, to travel and join the fighting in France. However, less than one lesson later, the plan had disintegrated.

It was unfair. Or so Evie had griped. Why couldn’t she train as a nurse even if Ada didn’t want to? Why couldn’t she drop out of school and go help her father and uncles? What use was arithmetic anyway at a time like this?

“You’re still a child,” Polly had explained, trying and failing to pacify her. “War is no place for children.”

“Tell that to the boys my age enlisting, pretending they’re older!”

Polly had sighed, wiping her hands on her apron and lighting another cigarette. “If I could, I would. I’d like to shake some sense into every bloody man who wants to join this blood soaked shit show. However, I swore I’d look after you and this family until the others come home. You are my responsibility and I will not allow anyone else from this house to risk their lives!”

And that had been that. Evie hadn’t dared raise it again, and luckily for Polly, this whole mess had ended just shy of her being legally old enough to volunteer herself. Otherwise, there would have been a whole other war raging, this time in Small Heath.

However, Polly’s best intentions hadn’t been enough to keep everyone in Small Heath safe until the others returned.

It had only been a matter of months after John had left that Martha had gone into labour with their latest child. He’d been excited by the prospect before he’d gone off to war, boasting about the stories he’d have to tell their child when he returned - and soon, considering the way the government said things were going. It’d be over by Christmas. That was what they said.

In a way it had been; the life they’d all known before had ended and all too abruptly.

It had been less than twenty four hours after giving birth to a beautiful baby boy that Martha began to feel unwell. What had at first been a minor fever and headache had quickly turned into something far more sinister.

In a matter of a week she had succumbed to what was later realised to be a sudden wave of fever in the city, leaving her three children parentless and in the care of the remaining Shelbys. Of course, John was informed via letter and the funeral held swiftly.

Evie didn’t know what to think. It had been enough to rattle them all. So much so, there had been an uneasy truce in the house ever since. No one upset the others, knowing that they only had each other to care for them. They had to stick together. Not just then but always. Who knew if the others were coming back, after all.

All they could count on were the people in that house on Watery Lane and the community that flocked around them in their time of need. For example, Evie lost track of the people who offered to watch her cousins or brought them food they’d made. Most of them had been women who’d come to take their husband’s place at the betting shop.

Together, they had muddled through, their own little community.

Years had passed since then and life had carried on. Until a mere month ago, when the announcement had been made. The war was over. The boys would be coming home.

Now the day was finally here and Evie felt like she could explode with anxiety and anticipation. It was why, as soon as the clock hit the designated hour she was gone.

She didn’t look back, despite hearing the sound her name bellowing behind her as she burst out the door and into the street. Ada, Finn and Polly could stay and prepare lunch if they wanted, but Evie couldn’t wait a damn second more as she sprinted through the street like a wild stallion.

Her eyes remained fixed firmly on the horizon, aiming for the giant brickwork building ahead. The rising plumes of steam and roar of voices were all a blur to her, a blur confirming she was in the right place as she barged past porters and taxis.

Birmingham Train station.

Weeks they’d been stuck in France, waiting for a ride home but they were here now. Arriving on the morning train, just as her father had promised they would be.

So close. They were so close.

Evie didn’t stop until she was on the very platform, eyes focused on the shining train that had drawn to a halt.

A great whine of gears. The brakes hissed. Then the doors opened.

Four years she’d waited for this. Four agonising years, filled with agony that no letter or prayer could fill. Until she saw them there, in person, for herself, she wouldn’t believe it was true - the war was finally over.

Doors began to open and men in uniforms descended in droves, bags and hats flying. The tears, cheers, and fears erupted in a mass symphony of life as people began to run, merging passengers and onlookers in one ocean of bodies.

Evie didn’t know which way was up. She’d never been the tallest of people and she was once again regretting her shorter stature as she jumped up and down on her tiptoes. Her eyes kept darting frantically around the place.

They had to be here somewhere. She could feel it in her bones…

Then she saw them. Well, she saw Arthur to be precise, jumping down from one of the carriages before making way for John. He’d always been hard to miss, more so with his overgrown moustache and loud cheers of relief to be back on Birmingham soil.

“Uncle Arthur! John!” she screamed, hurrying frantically toward them. They barely had time to turn before she was on them, flinging her arms about their necks and peppering their cheeks with kisses. To hell with the Shelby aversion to public displays, Evie was too damned overwhelmed to care. The laughs and hugs she received in return proved they didn’t care either.

“God damn, you grew,” Arthur scoffed, spinning her round and laughing as he took her in. Four years was indeed a long time for anybody, and Evie’s teenage body definitely betrayed the separation, almost like the lines on his forehead did him. “Just get a look at you. Some welcome wagon. Aren’t we lucky bastards.”

“The others are back home waiting. They can’t wait to see you all, the famed heroes.”

“I bet they are,” John grinned, taking his own turn to hug his niece. “I’d kill for a slice of Pol’s gin cake right about now. I’ve only had a bleeding sandwich all day.”

“Hopefully, John you’ll never have to kill for anything again.”

That was the voice that shattered any composure Evie had been holding on to as she turned.

“Dad?” she whispered. “Is it… is it you?”

He nodded. “I promised I’d come back, ey?”

The tears were strong as she staggered into his arms. Her legs threatened to go from beneath her as she tried to control the tidal wave of emotion that flooded through her. She simply let him cradle her to his chest, the itchy wool of his uniform pressed against her cheek.

She didn’t even care. It was merely more proof that this moment was real. It wasn’t a dream or some fantasy. It was real and solid and here. It was everything she’d hoped it would be and more. After all, she hadn’t dared hope they’d all look so in tact, so healthy compared to the previous train loads of injured and sick soldiers that had been pouring into the city for months now.

Yet, here they stood. Barely a scratch on them - just like their letters had said.

“I told you,” her father breathed, as if sensing her thoughts. “I keep my promises.”

“I know,” Evie sobbed. “I knew you would. You all would. I just… it’s been so long waiting for this moment and now that you’re all here I… I…”

“We know,” John muttered sympathetically. The thin sheen in his eyes told them he knew exactly how she was feeling.

It all felt too good to be true. Any moment she felt as if she’d wake up and this would fade away like sand slipping between her fingers. It was why she was reluctant to release her grip on him, on her father, and let him grab the remainder of his belongings.

“Come on,” Arthur coaxed, clearing his throat in an attempt to prevent himself from being caught further in the emotional reunion. It wouldn’t do for Arthur Shelby to be seen weeping in public now. He may have been in France, but he still had a reputation to uphold. “Let’s get moving, eh? I need a fucking drink.”

“You and me both, brother,” Tommy laughed. “You and me both.”

-----------

The rest of the day passed in a wondrous blur.

From the moment they’d stepped foot back into Watery Lane it was as if the whole world had brightened. The sun escaped the cloud cover that had been masking it all day and the smiles on peoples faces were effervescent as they greeted the returning heroes.

Finn, Ada, John’s children, and Polly were all quick to throw their arms around the boys and sob with relief.

“You’re home. You’re really home,” Polly choked, kissing each over and over again until they were thoroughly smothered in her lip rouge. “Thank God.”

“We’re home and here to stay,” John grinned, scooping up his newest child into his arms. Only three, he was the very spitting image of his father. “Isn’t that right, son? Your old man’s home.”

The toddler whined but seemed to understand, pawing at John’s face as if sensing the tears John was doing very well to hide. It broke Evie’s heart, knowing how much Martha would have wanted to see this moment, as delayed as it was. Still, she hoped Martha was watching, wherever she was.

“Come on then, you’re probably famished,” Polly cooed, wiping her own eyes. Arthur had taken one look at the awaiting feast laid out on the kitchen table and cheered. It was only Polly that prevented them from tucking in right away. Instead, they’d all hurried upstairs to wash up, change, and join them back downstairs in time for lunch as per their aunt’s orders.

“You’re no longer in France,” Polly had chuckled. “I’m your commanding officer now. What I say goes.”

“Sir, yes, Sir!” Arthur scoffed, saluting her. Still, he knew better than to argue. It would be shit luck to have survived a war, only to come home and be murdered by Polly Gray. It was why he tried alternative tactics. Tactics that involved opening a bottle of champagne and hurling toasts left, right, and centre.

For all her posturing, Polly eased with every sip of champagne. Everyone was too happy to care about anything other than each other and rejoicing at the domestic scene. For example, no one said anything as Evie had a second glass of champagne, cheering as she watched the room. The laughter was like nothing she’d heard since the day they’d all left, accompanied by the soft hum of the gramophone.

Whatever song was playing though, was drowned out beneath the voices and a particularly bawdy song coming from John. Finn was joining in, much to his delight. Where he’d learned the lyrics, Evie couldn’t be sure. Had Polly been sober she probably would have. She’d most likely have put a stop to it too, rather than joining in.

Before long, the party had decide to migrate elsewhere.

“To the Garrison boys!” Arthur bellowed, met with a raucous cheer of approval.

“Come on,” Tommy smirked, offering Evie his arm as she rose from the table. “I think we can celebrate for one night. Even Pol can forget about a bedtime on a day like this.”

Considering she was already half way out the door, Evie suspected her dad could be right. And so it was, they spent the evening surrounded by an ocean of smiling drunken faces.

Evie danced with anyone who asked, laughing all the while as she twirled, letting the world dissolve into a jubilant haze. She felt euphoric - and that had nothing to do with the several large champagnes she’d thrown back.

It had more to do with the realisation that this was real, and not one of the many dreams she’d woken from, heartbroken, the last four years. Every face, once familiar but now a surprise, were real. She could reach out and touch them and they wouldn’t disappear in a puff of smoke.

Maybe that was why she jumped as she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. A hand she’d recognise anywhere as her father grinned down at her.

“Dance for your old man?”

Evie laughed, eyebrows raising. “I thought you didn’t dance?”

“On the rare occasion I make an exception - mi’ lady.”

The sight of Tommy Shelby lowering in a mock bow, hand extended was enough to make tears of laughter prick at the corner of Evie’s eyes.

“Sir,” she smirked, struggling not to laugh as he pulled her into a rather good interpretation of a hold. Almost immediately they were swaying around the floor, laughing as they trod on each other’s toes and span about to the lively music. It was as if they were one of the couples she’d seen at the pictures, the whole world revolving around them.

Once upon a time, she’d been small enough that she’d stood on his toes when doing this. He’d held her against his chest, her grinning upwards. Now, though, she was tall enough to almost meet his eye. She could stand on her own two feet. She could dance just as well as he, even if she allowed him to lead.

Four years really was a long time. If she’d asked, Tommy would have told her such. As, for every new line or crease she saw on her father’s face, he saw an equally grown woman where a child had once stood.

For a moment as he’d got off that train, he’d thought Rebecca herself had come to greet him…

“Come on.”

“Tommy Shelby. No.”

“I’ve got you.”

“No. You’ll drop me,” Evie laughed, holding on for dear life as her father dipped her backwards, tilting her toward the floor before hauling her back upright in a well rehearsed motion.

Tommy just grinned. “See? I’ll never drop you.”

“One more drink and you would have!”

“Never,” he dismissed, laughing with her as the song came to an end. It was swiftly replaced with another. Most people didn’t even notice as they carried on dancing. “Another?”

“Why not?” Evie shrugged, already resuming their hold as she started to dance to the beat. It would take an act of God to interrupt her stride. “Otherwise Arthur’ll ask me again and I’m still recovering from the last dance.”

“I’m sure you are!”

----------

There was nothing overly spectacular about that party that night, not in comparison to the hundreds of other parties occurring across the country. Yet, it raged deep into the night and deep into the hearts of everyone there. For years after, they’d refer to this night with fond remembrance … well, those sober enough to remember it. Not everyone was in great condition come morning.

Evie herself had staggered into a chair at some point during the early morning, struggling to fight the oncoming exhaustion. Dancing all night had done her in. One yawn and she felt herself curl into the edge of the booth she’d chosen, letting sleep wash over her in waves.

She didn’t even realise she’d fallen asleep, not until she felt herself being scooped into someone’s arms some time later.

“Come on, let’s have you.”

She didn’t even need to open her eyes to know her father was responsible as he began to carry her towards the door and the early morning beyond it.

“You’ll be comfier at home, and Pol will gut me if I leave you on that chair any longer,” he continued softly, chuckling as he did. She could feel the way his chest vibrated with it; happiness.

“I’m glad you’re back, Gather,” Evie muttered, but she knew he’d heard her attempt.

“Me too, Chavi. Me too.” She hardly heard him speak in the ‘gypsy tongue’, or so Polly often called it when she was reading tea leaves or cursing about something. It was a soft sound, one that made her smile. “You’re almost too big for this now. It’s like carrying Arthur.”

Evie sniggered but yawned, choosing not to protest. She was just too damn happy to even try. Her family was back together again in one piece, and she knew when she awoke later that nothing could change that.

The Shelbys were home.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine

37 notes · View notes

pineapples-cant-write · 3 years

Text

Hi :)

I’m Callen (they/them). This is my blog for my writing, if you can’t tell by the name. My main blog is @one-hundred-small-pineapples. My OC blog is @one-giant-pineapple. You can find me on ao3 at PineappleUpsideDownCake (formerly Sarcastic_Gay_Dragon)

I’ll be using this blog to post snippets of chapters to come, discarded scenes, wip ideas I’ll probably never get around to, update announcements, and background/behind the scenes things I couldn’t fit into the story! Plus really bad visual references :)

As of Oct 19th (2021), all my stories are being reviewed and edited/rewritten because I’ve been away from writing for a very long time due to my dislike of basically all my stories

Here’s my current stories over on ao3!

Veritas Omnia Vincit series (Harry Potter)

Harry Potter but he’s not Harry Potter, he’s Kallias Slytherin, son of Lord Voldemort and Lily Evans. Follow his journey throughout his Hogwarts years, fighting what the Wizarding World thinks is the good guys, lead by Albus Dumbledore, while also navigating school, family life, friendships, romance, and general shenanigans.

Soulmate AU, Slytherin!Harry, Son of Voldemort!Harry, Harry/Fred/George, no smut but probably some suggestive or implied smut scenes in the later books. Currently on book two, year one.In which Harry Potter is actually Voldemort’s son, not James’, and this basically changes the entirety of the HP books

Ad Astra Per Aspera — pre-Hogwarts (complete, posted)

Nihil Novi Sub Luna — year 1 (incomplete, posted)

8 books planned currently, one for each Hogwarts year plus a pre-Hogwarts book

Book 1 complete, book 2 in progress

BEING HEAVILY EDITED/REWRITTEN

Spiders and Assassins and Teenagers, Oh My! Series (MCU)

The story of Nikolai Steven Romanov-Barnes and his journey from a loving home to HYDRA to his parents and their crazy family to the beyond.

(Natasha/Bucky have a kid while in HYDRA and yeah)

The Spider’s Spawn — CA:WS (incomplete, not posted) (the old version is still up, but the new, hopefully improved, version is not yet)

Unknown number of books planned, mostly because I haven’t thought that far ahead lmao. At least one book for WS, AoU, CW, and then more probably (hopefully)

BEING REWRITTEN

The Moon Series (Teen Wolf)

Teen Wolf but Lydia has a twin brother and lots of things change

The Moon Calls — season 1 (incomplete, posted)

Probably one book for each season, but maybe not following the series exactly, I’m not sure yet.

BEING EDITED

What’s a celebration without you, my love? (Disney Descendants)

For @descendantsgiftexchange here on Tumblr, this was my 2020 gift exchange. It started as part one, but I wanted to write a sequel so I’m in the process of doing that a year later. Harriet Hook/Evie

What’s a celebration without you, my love? (complete, posted)

Currently unnamed (incomplete, not posted)

@descendantsgiftexchange (on Tumblr) Gifts (Disney Descendants)

A collection of all my gifts for the @descendantsgiftecxchange over on Tumblr (previously called @descendantssecretsanta)

I’m in an organizing mood :)

Please — my 2018 gift, Huma, character death, complete

Just You is Enough for Us — my 2019 gift, Humaudrey, set in D3 but also canon divergence, complete

What’s a celebration with you, my love? — my 2020 gift, Evie/Harriet Hook, Evie goes to the Isle to get her gf to come to Auradon basically, complete

A Snowy Auradon Day - my 2021 gift, Core4 with a dash of Sea3, the VKs + AKs introduce the Sea3 to Auradon Winters with a snowball fight, complete

Twin Screams of Death (Riverdale and Teen Wolf crossover)

Senior year was supposed to be normal. Just like freshman year, before murders and drugs and gargoyle kings and other less than admirable plots to take over the town. Just.. normal. It was their last year together, before they all went their separate ways for college. So why on Earth did Fate decide they needed more trouble?

Lydia and her twin brother are cousins of Cheryl Blossom and move (back) to Riverdale after tragedy strikes in Beacon Hills. Jughead’s a dick (sorry but only sorta), Betty is being a supportive cousin, Allydia, Sterek/OMC, Verchoni, others too

Incomplete, posted

BEING EDITED

Bombshell and the Serpent (Riverdale)

An arrogant young princess and her castle's servants fall under the spell of a wicked enchantress, who turns her into the hideous Beast until she learns to love and be loved in return. The spirited, headstrong village girl Cheryl, enters the Beast's castle after she imprisons her brother, Jason. With the help of her enchanted servants, including the fatherly Mr. Potts, Cheryl begins to draw the cold-hearted Beast out of her isolation.

Or,

The Beauty and the Beast AU in which Toni is the beast, Cheryl is Belle, and an assortment of Riverdale characters are servants/villagers

Incomplete, posted

BEING EDITED

The Canary’s Legacy (Arrowverse, more specifically Legends of Tomorrow)

When Sara Lance and the Legends travel to present day New York to fix an anachronism, they find something much more important.

Laurel had kids who somehow have magic, basically.

Incomplete, posted

Not sure if I’m gonna edit/rewrite this or just delete/orphan it 🤷🏻

#intro post #I guess?#writing #my writing #my stories masterlist

3 notes · View notes

assassins-and-hidden-blades · 4 years

Text

Don’t Let Go

So this is a sequel (not requested) to Hold On that I really loved writing… I hope you all enjoy it, because I’m really nervous on posting it. I decided on the sequel after very careful thought, not wanting to ruin ‘Hold On’; but after scrutinising every detail, I hope people can have fun reading this. Also, over 2.5K words -- that’s a first lmao.

Also, this was beta read by none other than @marshmallow--3! So, thank you, Sam! Go check them out -- they’re awesome!

Obviously, this is going to diverge from canon A LOT here -- so bear that in mind.

I could write this plot forever omfg I was finding it hard to stop -- I’m really sad to be putting this away now, but I could always write drabbles relating to it *wink wink*

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! I’d love to know what you all think; every comment/reblog is precious to me haha.

Tagging: @yourlocalfrenchie (if anyone wants to be tagged, let me know!)

The link to Hold On is HERE

Warnings: Violence, Angst with a fluffy ending. No swearing, (miraculously)

Days went by. Your body lay in the train; Jacob couldn’t figure out what to do with it.

He couldn’t eat, sleep or even hold a conversation. Evie couldn’t communicate with him, as he would never reply. His mind was always occupied, for if it wasn’t, it would always end up in the most terrifying places.

The deprivation of necessities had taken its toll on his body. He was becoming fatigued after only a few hours, and he would frequently pass out from lack of sleep on top of his work, only to be woken up by re-enactments of the one moment he wished he could forget. He would be left gasping, sweating; clutching his chest as his anxiety and fear left an agony that squeezed his heart. In fact, the only time he managed to get any sleep was when it was dreamless.

In order to keep his mind busy, he studied.

Clad in only a shirt and breeches, he spent all his time pouring over the books in the train, for it was only a matter of time before you couldn’t be saved, and he had to let you go. There was a reason you mentioned the shroud, after all. Henry had talked about it once, when him and Evie went to visit the Kenway Estate. So he focused all his time on it, delving deep into lore.

One particular book was being heavily scrutinised by his hazel eyes. It was not a particularly interesting book, and in a half second of laziness, his Eagle Vision crackled through. The colours on the page, however, was not what he expected.

The words on the page turned from different types of fabrics to something much more relevant. It wrote about one certain thread; a material so powerful, it could hold the Elixir of Life.

It could resurrect people -- it was the fabric of the Shroud.

And Starrick had it.

Dressing, Jacob shrugged his overcoat over his shoulders and sifted his hand through his hair to allow his hat to sit on it. In the past, you would have done that.

Hopefully you would do so again.

He looked out over the sunset of the city as the train moved, adjusting his hat. His coat whipped at his knees; it was time to find that shroud.

----------

The night was freezing. The temporary Stronghold was heavily guarded, and was also very sophisticated; it could easily be mistaken for a house belonging to a wealthy family. He sat on a roof overlooking the property. The easiest entrance seemed to be through the balcony, but it seemed extremely easy.

He took the risk; he was already on a time limit.

However, as he leapt towards the balcony, he didn’t take into account his weakened state from lack of sleep and food. Instead of landing inside the balcony, his fingers had just about brushed against the railings. He had a lot of trouble pulling himself up and over, his muscles already beginning to ache. In the cold, his fingers fumbled around his lockpicks. It didn’t take long for him to open the window, but the lack of urgency of his body was beginning to frustrate his mind.

Jacob stalked the halls, peering into every room, and working downwards. There were a few close calls where he was almost caught, but he blended into the shadows quick enough to hide.

He reached the ground floor, and made a beeline to the one door that stood out over all of the others. It had locks spanning from the top to the bottom of the door. Inwardly, he huffed.

He almost made it without being detected.

That was, until a force pushed him face first into the wall. A hand grappled to reach his throat. Jacob elbowed the enemy on instinct, and managed to turn enough to kick a brute away. He grinned maliciously. “Don’t look too good, Frye.”

Already in a foul mood, Jacob snarled. “Wait until you see the other bloke.” He unsheathed his hidden blade and struck like a viper towards his neck.

His wrist got caught.

The brute bent his hand and manipulated his arm to persuade Jacob to collapse on one knee. He tried to mask his pain, sharp breaths exhaled instead of pained grunts, which sat in the back of his throat. His nostrils flared as he tried to jab the brute’s leg, and what was between them. However, instead of letting go, the brute pulled against his arm harder, releasing a pained noise. Jacob’s other hand came to ease the pressure his perpetrator was putting on his bone. He could hear and feel it began to crack. “One too many beers, Frye,” the brute tutted. “Disappointing, really.” In one smooth motion his arm snapped.

He yelled, the brute throwing him to his side. Before he could get up, a shoe was pressed firmly against his limb, evoking another pained noise. Jacob’s other hand tried to pry it off. “D’you recognise me, Frye?” He pushed an inch harder to keep the gang leader’s attention. Squinting, Jacob did agree that there was some familiarity to his face.

“I can’t remember angering such a handsome fellow; we can always reschedule those beers,” he panted, trying to ignore the throbbing through a pained smile.

The man smiled angrily, pressing down harder as he placed his other foot against his throat. “You murdered my twin brother.” Jacob squinted again, and realised who he reminded him of.

He growled. “Your twin brother murdered my lover.”

Against the wall hung a spear on display, it was unknown whether it was old or fake. “And now…” He pushed the point against the centre of his chest, where Jacob’s hand struck out to grab the shaft above the blade, attempting to prevent the piercing of his skin. “I can finish the job. First you; slowly, painfully, and then--”

All the pressure against Jacob disappeared. As air flooded through his lungs, his good hand dropped the spear and took out a small, agile throwing knife. He looked and threw it within one adrenaline-filled second.

The brute went limp, bleeding out of his exploded eye socket.

He drew in a few breaths, to take in oxygen and to calm the anxiety. A figure came into view, offering a hand out. The shadow looked familiar, and for a moment, he wondered…

“Good throw.” Evie smiled softly with a gleam of concern.

“I was aiming between the eyes.” He took the help, groaning softly at the pain in the arm he held against his chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to help my little brother -- and I want to get my best friend back.”

Jacob smiled, grateful for the backup.

“Why don’t you leave the combat to me?”

For once, that was something he could agree with.

Evie picked the locks efficiently; it took no longer than a minute or two to get through all of them.

The dark, damp room was completely bare, void of windows and furniture, except for a single chest. It was big, it was grand, and it was definitely First Civilisation. It had various cracks, through which a mysterious light glowed. Evie knelt by the chest, and by methods unknown to Jacob, managed to open it. Inside was the most intimately woven shawl he had ever seen, showered in silver and gold. Picking it up, she partly unfolded it, moving to wrap it around Jacob’s arm. He recoiled. “What--”

“Jacob, trust me.” He relented, not being in much of a state to complain.

“Let’s get out of here.”

As they escaped out of the back door of the mansion, Jacob began to feel his neck begin to tingle. There was no doubt that there were bruises there, but he’s never felt them actually prick before. By the time they were clear of the territory, the throbbing began to worsen in his arm. “Evie, I don’t think it’s--” his vision blacked out suddenly, and his knees buckled beneath him. Evie managed to catch half of him, his weight still taking him to the floor. She leaned him against the wall. “Jacob? Are you alright?”

He furrowed his brows. “Aye; I just couldn’t see for a moment.” He was about to get up before he felt a peculiar feeling in his arm, before he felt his bone snap again. He winced with a yell, before the pain all but disappeared. He exchanged glances with a very worried Evie before he tentatively pulled the shroud off of his arm. There was no pain, and he could move it just fine.

“It works.” Jacob got up, hiding the shroud under his coat. “Back to the train.” He tripped over his words excitedly -- the hope in his eyes had returned.

“Race you there?” Evie smirked.

In a sudden heart palpitation, he agreed.

----------

Jacob never waited for the train to stop, and instead leapt into the open door before Evie would even consider it safe. He unbuckled his gauntlet and threw his coat off without caring whether they would hit his sofa or his floor, heading to your carriage with the folded shroud in hand. Henry was inside, watching over you. With no time for words he unfolded the fabric and pulled it over your shoulders so it would cover your torso.

Henry was left starstruck. “How--”

Evie entered the carriage. “So?”

Jacob watched, eyes scrutinising every inch of the shroud. He lightly shook his head, expression not changing.

He became restless very quickly, from rolling up his sleeves to keep his fingers occupied to pacing the length of the carriage, never once taking his eyes off of you. As soon as he let go of the shroud, he could feel all of his energy dissipating with it -- he was extremely tired and hungry again, but his anxiety wouldn’t let him look after his own body -- he could only think about you.

As seconds turned to minutes, he became more sleep deprived, and therefore a lot more frustrated. He could feel it bubbling in his chest, and he resorted to the one thing he knew would calm it.

“I’m getting a drink.”

As he walked into the bar carriage, all conversations and laughter disappeared. He knew it wasn’t because of how he was dressed, but rather the look on his face. “Keep talking,” he ordered, praying for his Rooks to just ignore him for once as he sat at the bar. Gesturing for a whisky, he hunched over his glass, savouring the burn as he knocked the liquid down his throat. He was worried that it wasn’t going to work; that it would all be for nought. As quick as his hope had returned, it was quickly seeping away. He felt the tears prick his eyes, and properly downed his glass to keep them at bay, ordering another one to nurse slowly… just in case sobriety was needed.

----------

He took care in making his second drink last as long as possible. Once he had pushed the glass back to the bartender, he didn’t ask for another one, and instead put his head in his hands, threading his fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. When the door opened, he didn’t look up at first, thinking it was another rook. So he just ignored it, clasping a hand over the other to work as a chin rest. What confused him was the look the bartender gave the ‘rook’ who came in. He turned over his shoulder once he realised that the crowd had once again gone quiet. They were all staring too. Furrowing his brows, he turned to look at the door.

His heart skipped a beat and he froze. It was silent as he drank in the scene before him. He swallowed thickly, pushed himself off of his stool and walked with loud purpose. One hand wrapped tightly around your waist, and the other cradled your head. He rested his cheek on the top of your head and just stood there. You brought your arms around his back, and felt his shoulders begin to shake.

“I’m so sorry,” he sobbed under his breath.

“Jacob, Jacob.” You pulled him off of you and grasped his face in your hands. One of his own came over your hand while the other caressed your cheek. “Breathe.” You saw him inhale a shuddering breath, composing himself. “I’m here now; it’s okay.” Smiling, he pulled you to his lips, dipping down to close the height gap. You laughed against his lips once you heard the whooping of the Rooks around you. Although you both broke apart, your noses stayed touching. Jacob sniffed noisily, but you didn’t move. “Yuck,” you joked.

For the first time in forever, Jacob laughed. It felt foreign, but he welcomed it. He pecked your lips again, a smile fixed on his face. You trailed your fingers across his left forearm. “How’s your arm?”

Jacob squinted. “How do you--” Looking up, he saw Evie and Henry in the doorway. They both looked like they’d been crying. Jacob shared a twin look at his sister. Thank you, it said.

Evie smiled, another tear running down her face as she gave him one back. No -- thank you, it replied.

Jacob brought you into another hug, holding you less tightly this time around, but just as securely.

“I love you, Y/N. So much.”

“I love you more, Jacob.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Anything’s possible.”

----------

BONUS:

Evening

Jacob had finally succumbed to sleep. You watched him try and stay awake, but you negotiated until he finally lost interest and dozed off, his bottom half fully dressed, but top half shirtless; sleeping in a bloodied shirt was not going to be nice at all. Stuff like that always got him yawning. Evie came into the room quietly, fully aware of the lack of sleep Jacob had had recently. She greeted you with a sisterly hug. “Are you not going to join him?” she asked, watching over her brother’s sleeping form. “I’ve been sleeping for days, Evie. I’m anything but tired.”

She chuckled, patting your shoulder. “Henry and I are in my carriage if you need us.”

You pulled a suggestive face. “Ah, I see how it is.”

Blushing, she tried to hide a smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her tone showed that she knew exactly what you were talking about. You raised both of your eyebrows. “Don’t tell Jacob,” she whispered with a bashful smile, leaving you and Jacob alone.

Looking at Jacob, you mulled over your thoughts. Coming to a quick conclusion, you did decide to join him. You stripped yourself of your heavy clothing and joined him in his bed in a blouse and breeches. As you settled next to him, you felt his arm enclose protectively around you.

“So, Evie and Greenie, huh?”

Your eyes widened. “Uh…”

His chest rumbled in a sleepy chuckle as he responded in an equally sleepy voice. “Don’t worry, she’ll never know that I know.”

It didn’t take long for his breathing to deepen again, and slowly you began to drift off as well, relieved that you’ll be able to wake up again.

#assassins creed #assassin's creed x reader #x reader #Jacob Frye #jacob frye x reader #assassin's creed imagine #assassin's creed oneshot #jacob frye onshot #jacob frye imagine #jacob frye x gn!reader #assassin’s creed x gn!reader

213 notes · View notes

mindblindbard · 4 years

Text

Submitted Art

i just saw your reply and i am feeling v bashful upon being recognized-- and recognized via my button's name much less-- i recognize my hubris now lmao (since i, much like a child with object impertinence, assumed there was no way i would be recognized as my gaming side blog since the usernames and icons are so different-- completely forgetting i linked my side blog to my main and ousted myself)

idk how to say say thanks with words despite one of my majors being english so here's a wip of evil and grayson's wedding, ft. nick being a distraction during their wedding photos (i'm almost. done with my basketball wips but i have my bachelors classes starting up monday and i have company on sunday, so idk when i'll be able to finish all of these but hopefully soon), it's based off of the one ask+answer combo about nick's opinion of the ROs/Button ships making me CACKLE. i am incapable of seeing nick as anything less than a meme... a more brotherly loki... an agent of chaos

((this isn't bait to make you post this submission btw, i rarely post my wips unless asked.. because i really don't like to lmao, it feels like a half-assed finished product then, to me, rather than the full-assed half-finished product it actually is. i only post when asked to (cuz it's usually friends egging me on to anyway, and this is the only form of peer pressure i'll give into lmao) or when i wanna show appreciation immediately but i don't have anything more finished to show))

but, anyway, uhm, thank you so much for your attentive memory as to recognize my main blog as = my side blog and to call out my button by name when unprompted and not expected to. it made me feel really touched and got my hands sweaty and my face looked a lot like graysons expression in my flustered state. but it really was the absolute highlight of my day (which is saying something cuz my cat has been VERY cute and cuddly today and this sashimi bowl is god tier). i hope you and yours are well, that you're taking steps to ensure no burn out happens to you, and that you have a lovely day!! i'll be sure to tag you whenever i do finish my wips! thanks so much for making such a fantastically fun and creatively stimulating game!

"(Grayson's) Never gonna give her up. Never gonna let her down. Never gonna run around and desert her. Never gonna make her cry. Never gonna say goodbye. Never gonna tell a lie and hurt her" (--the really fucking funny joke caption i've been planning on using for 4 days lmao)

ps. it actually is a complete coincidence that i gave nick adjusted "never gonna give you up" lyrics and you fooled me with that well-placed rick roll today. i've been working on this on/off for 4 days (about 3 hrs total apparently according to my ipad) and today i've only been working on my nick+evie+grayson basketball wips and evies wedding dress (which fun fact: is heavily based off of the. "strawberry dress" meme except idk if i'll have the balls to actually let evie wear a wedding dress with strawberries printed all over, drawing patterns under folds is hard lmao rip)

pps. please don't judge my inevitable typos, i am v small and tired af + idk how to turn off my ipads semi-inconsistent, always-annoying autocorrect, rip

Author’s note: Uh, OBVIOUSLY I’m gonna post amazing WIP (if that’s not okay, let me know, and I’ll take it down!). I find it fascinating how unfinished art can look like geometry homework yet somehow also people? And still be so good? It’s alchemy.

I’ve been determined to rickroll any future spouse (should I ever get married) during our wedding vows since I was 20. Can you imagine the look on someone’s face when their bride solemnly starts reciting the lyrics to “Never Gonna Give You Up” instead of the heartfelt vows she claimed to write? It’ll be either instant divorce or they’ll laugh and I’ll know that I’ve found my soulmate.

Nick singing the song here makes me smile wide enough that my jaw aches.

#Mind Blind #GrayBlack #NickWiseman #amazing art that made me cry #submitted post #submission

40 notes · View notes

redthreadoffate · 5 years

Text

little lady bird [sebastian stan]

a repost, originally posted in my former writing blog

relationship: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: swearing, none; mistakes here or there

request (anon): Hi darling, can i request something where the reader and Sebastian are married and have a baby girl so she visited the set of endgame and show everyone his little lady and obviously everyone adores her, like Anthony making fun because his baby girl is such a copy of Sebastian and Chris being such an uncle also Scarlet and Elizabeth 😍🙈 Thanks 😘😘

notes: i really hope i got this good. i’ve been writing and re-writing some parts and although i am honestly happy with how this turned out, i’m hoping anon would like it, too.

summary: evelyn stan is taking the hearts by storm

Ever since you and Sebastian Stan got married, not once have you visited him on set. But now, you were missing him badly and your little daughter, Evelyn, would cry whenever she realized her daddy wasn’t around.

One night, you were alone in your bed, craving for your husband’s touch, when you heard the cries of baby Evelyn. Immediately, you rushed to her side and began to feed her some milk. She was two years old, already sleeping in her own room with protective barriers, or railings, around her bed.

“I know you miss daddy,” you said, rocking her from side to side. “I do, too, Ev. But he’s got to work and so does mommy.” You work as a teacher nearby and you drop off your daughter at your mother’s place during the day. You also liked knowing that Evelyn would be pretty close to her grandmother.

“I promise, when daddy’s work is over, we can finally spend some time together…I hope,” you said with a sigh. Sebastian’s work has begun to take a toll on him. And you were happy that he was living his dream, but you wanted to spend time with him, too. For him to spend time with your daughter. Evelyn needed her father just as much as you needed your husband. “He’ll be back and we’ll spend some quality family time together. I promise. You’ll see, Evy.”

But you knew you needed to do something. And quick.

Evelyn was getting restless without the attention of her daddy. And if you were being honest, so were you. Being alone sucked. And although you loved your daughter to the littlest bits and pieces of life, you couldn’t spend every single moment with just her.

Sebastian was only supposed to be gone a few days for the Avengers Endgame film. But there were so many delays that he’s been gone for two weeks already. That was definitely much more than the family bargained for.

He would call and message and video call you everyday, getting to see Evelyn play and sleep, whatever time he would catch her in. Evelyn would also reach for the device that you would be using when she would see her father. She would call out the name she calls him with and Sebastian would answer with his sweet, but gruff, voice.

“There’s my little lady bird,” he would say when she would see the little girl. He got that nickname when he realizes that Evelyn would sometimes sing with the birds outside your house. “Little lady bird, how are you?” And that would mark his and Evelyn’s conversation that were filled with nonsense, but still, you would record those moments with another device, just because you loved seeing father-daughter moments.

But what could you do to be able to see him again at this very moment. ‘Maybe I can go on set,’ you thought. You’ve heard of other families visiting their loved ones on set, so why couldn’t you? ‘I can get a few days off of work. Of course I’ll bring Evelyn, that’d allow mom to spend some quality time for herself, too. Yeah, I think that’ll work.’ And so you went inside your room, leaving the door open in case Evelyn needed you, to think of ways on how you can get inside the set. You did have one idea that surely wouldn’t fail.

So here you are, at the set of Avengers Endgame. With help from Sebastian’s agent, you managed to get in without any worry. Even Evelyn seemed to know where you guys were, she had an excited look in her eyes and she was facing the front rather than your chest.

“There he is,” the agent said, pointing out your husband. He was busy chatting with Elizabeth and Anthony. They were filming what they said is a wedding scene. “Would you like me to bring you guys to him?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s alright. I’d like to surprise him.” You thank the agent. With a heavy huff, you whisper to your daughter what she should do. When you reach Sebastian, he had his back turned to you.

As if on cue, Evelyn reaches out for her father’s back and cried out her name for him in a cheery, longing voice. Sebastian jumped before turning around to face you and the baby. “Evelyn!” he exclaimed. He gently cradled her face before kissing her. “My baby.” You clear your throat and smile. “And my other baby,” he said, laughing. He brings you in for a hug, careful not to squeeze the little girl in the middle. “I’ve missed you two. I can’t believe you’re here!”

You let go of him and fix Evelyn’s position on your hip. “Why?” you teased. “You hiding something from us, Mr. Stan?”

“As a matter of fact, Mrs. Stan, I am,” he replied. Your eyes widen a bit but he laughs it off. “You’re not suppose to see the ending, doll. How can it be a surprise when you watch it during the premiere?”

You roll your eyes. “You’ve already told me that it’s a wedding scene.”

Anthony and Elizabeth, who have been watching the exchange, take this time to their advantage. They’ve already met you, but not Evelyn. After they greet you, with Elizabeth giving you a half-hug, Anthony asked who the little bundle of joy is. “She looks exactly like you,” he pointed out to Sebastian.

“She does, doesn’t she?” you confirm. Chocolate brown hair, piercing blue eyes..same shaped nose, thin lips. Evelyn was a carbon copy of her father. “Seb thinks she looks like me.”

“No offense, y/n,” Anthony started, and you’ve already waved your hand as if saying “none taken”, “but she looks exactly like Sebastian Stan. Look at that! You can cover the rest of her face,” she used his hands to conceal some of the features of the baby from afar, “and all you see are her eyes, it’s very Sebastian! Very Winter Soldier.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Okay, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“What’s her name again?” Elizabeth asked. “I heard it earlier but I want to make sure. I don’t want to call her by any other.”

“Evelyn,” Sebastian replied. “Her name is Evelyn Stan.”

“Lovely name,” Elizabeth commented. “May I hold her?”

“Of course,” you said and you hand your daughter to the now red-head actress. “She’s not very fussy. She’s a good girl,” you tried convince her. Although Elizabeth is obviously good with children, you can’t help but list the qualities of Evelyn…it’s a proud mom thing. “She likes you.”

Elizabeth smiled “Oh, I hope so.” She rubbed Evelyn’s back and cooed, “Aren’t you the cutest baby ever? Oh yes you are, baby Evelyn. You’re a very beautiful baby.”

“She’s going to break hearts one day,” Anthony remarked. “And hopefully she doesn’t get her heart broken, you’re very good with guns on and off set.” He patted Sebastian’s shoulder and laughed. “But count me in if you ever need back-up.”

Sebastian smirked. “You love her already.”

“Of course!” Anthony had no reason to deny it. “She’s a very beautiful girl, made by two gorgeous and amazing people, she’d just be as awesome. Plus, she looks like you.” He laughed.

“Oh, she’s such a sweetheart,” Elizabeth said. “Look, she’s already asleep!”

“Shh,” Sebastian hushed, “she’s a very deep sleeper but who knows what will wake her up. This is a crowded area.”

Just then, Chris and Scarlett appeared from behind the three actors. Chris immediately noticed the baby and gasped. Scarlett had to look past Chris just to see the baby. Scarlett gasped as well, her hand covering her mouth.

“Oh, she’s adorable,” Scarlett said. “She’s no doubt Sebastian’s.” This earned Sebastian a “ha!” from Anthony. “What’s her name?”

“Evelyn,” you replied. “Ev or Evy for short.” You shrugged.

“Little lady bird, too,” Sebastian added. “Though that’s my nickname for her. It might feel weird if others call her that, too.” He shook his head. “Nevermind, don’t call her that.”

“Little Sebastian might be good, too,” Anthony joked.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t that the horse or donkey, I forget, from Parks and Recreation?”

Chris laughed softly. “That’s Lil’ Sebastian. There’s a difference.”

“We are not calling Evelyn a nickname after a horse,” you said, “it’s like calling Renesmee Nessie, like she’s the Loch Ness Monster or something.”

Elizabeth laughed, though she tried to keep her volume at the minimal. “I didn’t know you were a Twilight fan.”

You rolled your eyes. “Am not. I just remember watching that part.”

Chris asked if he could hold Evelyn. With your permission, Elizabeth handed the baby over to Chris and you smiled at the thought that Chris was very good with kids. Evelyn must have felt the shift because she woke up. You and Sebastian made a face, scared that she’d make a fuss. But Chris rocked her and she leaned her head on his chest as if she was listening to his heartbeat.

“That’s amazing,” Anthony said.

“You’ve always been a children person,” Scarlett chimed in. “It’s a gift.”

“Children are so innocent,” Chris said, “they’re God’s gift.”

Sebastian smirked. “Stop being so dramatic.”

“I can’t help it,” Chris chuckled, “your baby girl is going to be the death of me.”

“Aww man, not you too!”

“Aren’t you glad that you’ve got people on your side when it comes to your daughter?” Anthony rested his arm on his friend’s shoulder. “I mean, come on, dude, you’ve got to admit that’s already really cool.”

Sebastian pursed his lips in thought then nodded. “It would be fun to scare off her suitors when she’s got a dad and two uncles guarding her already.”

“Oh, don’t talk about her growing up yet!” you groaned. “I want to enjoy my time with her.”

“Pretty soon, she’ll be going to prom,” Chris Hemsworth appeared, joining in on the conversation. “Oh, she’s a wonderful little gal,” he said when he laid eyes on the girl Chris Evans was holding. “Sebastian’s?”

Robert joined in and nodded. “Obviously. Look at those eyes, very piercing shade of blue.”

“Thank you for your input, Hemsworth,” you whined. “Now all I can think of is her growing up into a lady already. Ugh, she’s only two years old, guys! Let her live a little bit more before she starts worrying about boys and dating!”

“Or girls,” Scarlett added, shrugging her shoulders.

“Or girls,” you repeated and you see Scarlett smile.

There’s a tiny sound coming from young Evelyn and everyone turned to see her yawning. Chris Evans handed her back to Sebastian and he, in turn, hugs her close to his chest. “God I missed her so much.”

“We both missed you,” you said, smiling at the sight of them. You take out your phone and capture the moment. “Picture, everyone!” You walk back a bit and everyone poses for the photo. “One…two…three…everybody say ‘cheese’!”

“Cheese!” they obliged.

When everyone but you and Sebastian dispersed, you give him a small, soft smile. “When are you coming back?”

“As soon as possible. But I have an idea. Why don’t you two stay here with me first? I’m sure you took some time off from work.”

“I did, yeah. Our bags are still packed in the van, we were hoping we could stay in your hotel.”

“Babe, you’re my family, of course you’re staying in my hotel, in the very same room.”

You laughed. When your laughter died down, you looked at the sleeping baby in your husband’s arms and sigh. “How did we get so lucky?”

Sebastian grinned. “How did I get so lucky? My queen,” he gestured to you with his head, “and my princess, the little lady bird,” he lifted her a bit. “You’re both so beautiful, so amazing, I can’t live without either one of you.” He leaned down and said, “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you, too,” you said.

#sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/#sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x imagine #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #misc: cherish writes

250 notes · View notes

thebluestbluewords · 4 years

Text

Soulmates Aren’t Just Lovers, pt 2

(technically this comes chronologically before the bit that I already posted but it’s FINE just pretend that I write things in order)

also a chronology note!! this is happening during the beginning of D2. It should hopefully be clear enough in context but just in case!!

Evie comes in while Mal is throwing her stuff together.

In her defense, it probably doesn’t look like a good sign that the new whatever-the-fuck Mal is supposed to be now is throwing things frantically into her backpack like an insane person. It looks, okay, really bad, so Mal can forgive a little bit of the tone that Evie’s voice is taking on as she oh-so-carefully steps around the piles of stupid princess clothes that Mal had thrown on the floor when she was tearing apart their closet in seach of her favorite leather jacket.

It’s the one with the bloodstain on the right shoulder from the time that Mal had accidentally stabbed herself doing what she and Jay had been calling “knife stunts” and Evie had been calling “a death wish”. It’s a good memory, and Mal is kind of upset that she hasn’t been able to find the jacket. It was a good one. Her purple one is fine too, and the chain sewn into the hem is easy enough to rip out and choke someone with, but it’s not the same as the other one.

“....Mal?” Evie asks slowly. “Is everything okay?”

Mal rubs her arm over her face. She can’t look up at Evie, not right now. She’s not some stupid princessy type, and she will not cry about this.

She shoves another handful of clothes in her backpack instead. Clothes are always good to barter with. They’ll be useful to have, once she’s back home.

“Mal? Can you talk to me, babe?”

Mal can’t. It’s like there’s a rock in her throat, and she can’t speak around it.

Evie moves closer. Oh no.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Mal bursts out, before Evie can do something like try and touch her. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be this-- person they want me to be! I can’t do it anymore, Evie. I want to go home.”

“Mal--”

Evie’s going to do the same thing that the others did, she’s going to tell Mal that she can’t go home, ever, and home sucked actually and she shouldn’t want to go back because even her own stupid feellings are wrong now and she can’t even get this one thing right. She’s going to say that Mal is wrong again, and Mal is going to do something terrible if she has to hear Evie, her best friend in the whole world, in the whole stupid castle, tell her that she’s wrong again, so the words just keep on spilling out because Mal. Can’t. She can’t hear it again.

“I can’t!” Mal shouts, before Evie can get the words out. “I don’t care what Ben says, I can’t be the person he wants me to be! I want to go home and I don’t care what the others think about it!”

It hurts to even say the words. Ben is going to hate her forever, and it hurts even more because Mal is pretty sure, somewhere in the frozen place where her heart used to live, that Evie is going to hate her for this more than anyone, more than her sort-of-boyfriend already does, and once Mal can get home and let her guard down it’s going to come back, all the feelings that she’s been missing for these awful, terrible months of trying to be good and it’s going to--

Well.

That’s--

Mal’s never been good with feelings, but she’s pretty sure that her breath hitching up like this is one of the bad ones. One of the not so princess-approved ones.

#this is more of soulmates aren’t just lovers in case y’all couldn’t tell #my fic #descendants fic #descendants #mal bertha #evie grimhilde #disney descendants #it's not finished yet but it looks like it’s going to be two chapters and the first one is almost done so that might make it over to ao3 so #it’s all there I just need to do some polishing so it’s more than just 3000 words of Mal having a breakdown #which is absolutely what it is right now

2 notes · View notes

punk-in-docs · 3 years

Note

number 9 from the writer asks please 🧡

Number 9 you say- that would be -what, if anything, do you do for inspiration- and I can honestly tell you that I find quite a big handful of things inspiring depending on the story I’m writing-

For example, with Sinnerman it was really handy for me personally reading travel and cooking magazines and travel blogs for ideas. Trying really hard to think about the two characters and the separate worlds they came from and where they were heading. Evie’s character and antiquey surroundings came quite naturally to me. I’m of that ilk myself, the whole cottage core thing is definitely a style I subscribe too. Kylo’s came harder, he’d come from a place of nothing and worked tirelessly to get it and never looked back. I kinda liked using those as guide posts for the vibes and certainly the love that blossoms between them. It was a fun journey to take. It’s them exploring the other without fear and without judgment and I think that’s really neat. So few people take the time for that in love sometimes.

With wolves and doves that I’m writing now, it’s been a whole bevy of things, walks out in the sunshine near where I live. Out in nature for a good blustery walk in the rain or wind or sunshine can work wonders in giving me a sense of something I want to try and capture. Needless to say every Jane Austen film adaptation I can get my hands on helped marvellously. And I can’t recommend enough Julia Quinn or Tessa Dare books. So witty and quick and so so funny. It just builds a whole world and that’s what I love love love doing. The world of wolves and doves is not something I had to think too hard about. I devour regency romance books like a fiend so before I started I had quite a good heading on the language, fashions, etiquette, civility and society of that time. Me and snacks made sure to mould Vampire Kylo contrary to this neat quaint little society, to grate against those things. So from the offset he and Iris drift together. Outsiders that recognise something in the other. She wants and aspires to things that shes been taught she shouldn’t and Kylo likes that forefront of her thinking.

My inspiration revolves quite heavily around building worlds. It’s something I think I’m fairly good at. And it can stem from, really, anything; a song, a picture I stumble across on Pinterest, or a naughty thot that I come up with my darling snacks. It takes many forms and I think now - thankfully - that the worlds getting back to normal a bit it will hopefully be that I can start exploring more of the things that do inspire me. Going to a play, of wandering around a museum and even going to sit in a coffee shop with a notebook for a little while. It can sometimes offer the most odd weirdly amazing lighting strike of inspiration I’ve found-

1 note · View note

concealeddarkness13 · 4 years

Text

WHG Post Games Boat Heist Part 2

Tagging my collaborators: @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Elvira, Rebecca, Captain Skeates, and Chaudhary!), @maple-writes (also thanks for Cirrus and Asher!), and @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Rowan!)

Nesri

We all met up back in our room a few hours later, and I forced thoughts of Churi out of my head. Some of us (me mainly) had already exchanged information, but we’d be able to really figure out what everyone found out. We all squeezed into the room and sat down in a circle.

Rowan looked over at Zenith. “I hope your end went better than mine?”

He grimaced. “I found where Evie, Alastair, and Poli are staying, but Evie somehow saw both me and Alastair wearing Peacekeeper uniforms, and she’s scared to get close to us.”

They sighed. “Lynn didn’t buy, or at least didn’t say the Peacekeeper story, but he seemed convinced that I wasn’t real somehow. Either it wasn’t me, someone was pretending to be me, or…I don’t even know but it’s not looking good.” Well, shit. This was worse than I thought it would be.

Asher nodded. “The Capitol suspected we might be here. I heard they have plans to stop us.”

“Is that why Lynn looked at me like a rotten fish carcass and not a knight in shining armor?” Rebecca winced. “Great.”

“She looked at you and thought you were wearing Peacekeeper uniforms or thought she’d seen you in them at some earlier time?” Elvira asked, looking at Zenith.

“She asked me why I was wearing a Peacekeeper uniform. But she didn’t seem particularly surprised. The Capitol must have already been lying to her.” He frowned. “We might want to change our plans a little. We won’t be able to rescue them tonight.”

Triel sighed dramatically. “And after I went through all that trouble to book an appointment with Snow tonight.”

“We will rescue them though, right?” Rowan looked a little panicked.

Zenith, ever the serious and calm one, nodded. “We just need to figure out what the Capitol is doing. Hopefully, we can still rescue them during this party.”

“Appointment?” Rebecca frowned at Triel.

She nodded. “I’ve been pretending to be a Capitol reporter for a few weeks, and I’ve even published some interviews with the stylists and a few mentors. I built up that persona so I could get close to Snow without too much suspicion. I asked to interview him tonight, but the appointment really was for his dunk in the lake.”

Rowan spoke slowly. “The appointment could still be good though. Get a better insight into tomorrow’s events maybe? Or learn about the ship, or…”

She nodded again. “I might need the help of my lovely assistant, however.” She smirked over at Elvira.

“How about two or five?”

Triel cocked her head, looking genuinely confused. “If anyone else in the gang shows up, he’ll probably recognize them from the Games.”

Cirrus grinned, taking a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. “If you need someone he wouldn’t see, I might have someone.” He handed the paper to Triel. “Her name’s Amy, one of the avoxes on board. She wrote this out for me earlier and seems in on the plan.”

Triel’s eyes shined as she read the paper. “Perfect. I’ll make sure to recruit her to the president overboard gang.”

Elvira looked surprised. “Oh. I actually met some of my old friends—they’re national thieves and pirates at large and unknown to the government. They’re here to rob the place. I struck up an accord with them. One in particular would very much favor a…bit of a ruckus. But Amy works too.”

“At the very least she could get you in,” Cirrus said. “I haven’t spoken to her about actually pushing anyone.” He paused with a sigh. “She was on stage with Lynne. I don’t want her to get hurt again.”

I winced, and Zenith and Triel did the same. Yes, we definitely needed to help her escape too. Triel nodded. “Thank you.” She turned to Elvira. “I do think I would need some more assistants, especially if they are our mutual friends.”

“Captain Skeates will gladly help defy the Capitol, especially if I ask, and the others will follow her lead. She’s a genius, as you likely know, Quartermaster Chaudhary has the guns, and Mirabel has the gadgets. Tell me what you need us to do.”

Triel grinned. “Oh, I simply must have more assistants. I haven’t seen them in a year.”

“Whatever you do, try and push him off the right side of the boat,” Asher added. “I convinced—” His eyes flickered to Zenith. “Some security, to move some safety equipment away from the area.”

“You mean the starboard side?” Rebecca asked loudly.

“I don’t know whether to be happy that worked or even more irritated with them that they moved it,” Rowan scoffed.

“I don’t know, I just told them the right side,” Asher mumbled.

Zenith eyed Asher suspiciously but didn’t comment. And it was finally time for me to interject with my own discovery. “I found an old friend, and he’s invited us to meet the captain. He says they will help. And he’s a horrible liar, so I trust him.” Rebecca mouthed my last sentence to herself, eyebrows bunched, pointing as if she was doing some calculations, so I laughed and clarified. “I’m just saying, I’d know when he’s lying, so he wasn’t when he said he wanted to help us.”

Elvira nodded in understanding.

I clapped my hands when there were no objections. “So, if that’s all we need to talk about, how about we go and meet this captain? Maybe they’ll know more about what’s going on with the captured tributes. They’re supposed to know everything about the ship anyway, right?”

“Ooh, yeah!” Rebecca said. “Let’s kinda leave at different times and go different routes so we don’t draw attention to us all as a group, right? The captain’s at the bridge, I’m assuming? That raised bit kinda near the back of the yacht up on top with the windows?”

I nodded. “That sounds great! I’m with grumpy!” I grabbed Zenith’s arm, and he grumbled.

Triel eyed Elvira. “Could we walk together and discuss our plans more?”

“Gladly.” She smiled a little.

Asher looked grateful as he nodded. “Meet in ten minutes?”

Rowan nodded. “Ten minutes.”

As Zenith and I walked to the bridge, I eyed him. He was serious, as always, but at least that meant he was reliable. I forced myself to smile. “So, you might want to be on the lookout for shady individuals.”

He frowned over at me. “What are you talking about?”

I made sure to sound nonchalant. “Oh, I don’t know. Any Peacekeepers who are more suspicious than the usual Peacekeepers. Something like that.”

He sighed. “Nesri, is Churi here?”

I flinched. “Damn. Am I that obvious? I need to practice in front of a mirror so I don’t give it away to anyone else.”

Zenith stopped and put a hand on my shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “He hasn’t bothered you, has he?”

I laughed it off, and I actually sounded genuine even to myself. “Nah. I’ve avoided him. Don’t worry.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “And you’ll let one of us know before you decide to do something stupid, right?”

“Of course. Thanks, Zenith. Just keep an eye out for him.” I kept walking, forcing the smile to stay on my lips. Zenith would watch to make sure that he didn’t bother any of my gang, and I would confront him tonight when Triel was busy to make sure he didn’t approach anyone else.

Triel

“What’s your plan then?” Elvira eyed me as we walked to the bridge.

I grinned, but my mind was still focusing on Nora. She was here. I could see her again. But, right, the plan. “I was thinking, since I am pretending to be an interviewer, I convince the Peacekeepers to give us some space, and I ask some truly scandalous questions, like how he can live with all the children’s deaths on his conscience while my lovely assistant dunks the Peacekeepers in the water oh so subtly. Then, when he’s good and angry, both of us work together to dunk the president. But now, with more assistants, the Peacekeepers won’t be as much of a problem, and neither will the president.”

Elvira nodded. “We can arrange for something suspicious to happen a bit out at ‘sea’ to draw the Peacekeeper’s attention and ensure they’re all within easy pushing distance from the railing. Good of you to think of them. How many assistants do you think you’ll need?”

“The president might take more than two of us, so at least two, including you, but there are about eight Peacekeepers around him, overkill if you ask me, so probably five total assistants, if you think five assistants can knock eight Peacekeepers overboard and then knock the president overboard. Is Chaudhary here? She could probably take three at least herself.”

“She probably could.” Elvira beamed. “Let me see…I know Mirabel and Sid are in.” She paused. “I don’t personally know who else she’s hired lately, but there’ll likely be enough to suit the need.” She raised an eyebrow. “The captain probably wouldn’t push someone in by herself, but I might be able to convince her to join us in, say, taking Snow out of the forecast.” She winced to herself at her pun.

Nora. I grinned when Elvira mentioned her. “That sounds wonderful! Tell me, is Nora still wearing a ravishing hat? If so, I simply must steal it from her!”

“Ah, which one?” Elvira groaned in understanding.

“She probably got a new one just for the occasion. Which means she’s not as attached to it yet. Maybe I could actually steal it…”

Elvira suppressed chortles, and I eyed her. “We should meet up with Nora and her crew before this happens to discuss the plan together.” I paused. It would be so good to see her. “And to catch up,” I mumbled. I spoke up. “Anyway, the schedule has changed, so it won’t happen tonight most likely.”

“I see. I think this will work rather well.” She paused. “…She speaks highly of you. I thought you should know.”

Shit. Damn emotions. I wiped away any evidence of tears as we kept walking in silence.

Zenith

We met up outside the bridge, and Nesri grinned at the guy that must have been Kiryth. He let us in, and I frowned at the captain. They wore eyepatches on both of their eyes, and they wore a pristine naval uniform. The parrot perched on their shoulder also had a tiny pristine naval uniform. Kiryth waved at them. “Hello, Captain Reeves! I wanted to introduce you to some people who aren’t Capitol puppets.”

The parrot looked over at us, and I tensed. It looked angry. “Yo ho ho!” it squawked.

The captain turned to us with a frown. “You brought rebels in here?” They paused. “Brilliant! What do they need help with?”

Asher looked between the captain and the parrot, looking completely confused.

“Understanding the multiple eyepatches?” Rebecca muttered to herself.

Triel was trying not to laugh, and Nesri was failing. This was…odd. But nothing I couldn’t handle. “Do you know anything about the guests being forced to see other guests differently than they should, Captain Reeves?”

The captain burst out laughing. “The parrot doesn’t know anything about navigation!” Wait. What? They gestured at the parrot. “She’s Captain Reeves, and my name is Smith! Now, about what you asked, I do have a machine that sends some data to a place on the mainland. But I have no access to the data.”

“Does, does Reeves have access?” Asher looked nervous.

“Or do you know anyone who does?” Elvira asked.

Smith shook their head. “Neither of us have access. Don’t know if you meddling with the machine would do you any good anyway. But…” They paused. “I did hear some idiot Peacekeeper talking about how this big machine—” They gestured at a machine off to the side. “gets data from these small machines that were integrated into the shockers that the tributes wear. If you could figure out how to disable those smaller machines, you’d be able to stop them from seeing things you don’t want.”

“Yo ho ho,” Captain Reeves agreed.

Nesri started texting, probably to Shine, while Rebecca glared at the parrot. She took a deep breath. “Perfect. Thanks, Capt—er…Helms…person Smith.”

Nesri spoke up. “Shine says their disablers might work, but it’s a long shot. Is there any way we can try it before we can try it on them?”

We decided on trying it out on Laurel tonight, but I wasn’t part of the group, so there wasn’t anything to do tonight. Just sit and watch for suspicious...Peacekeepers.

Triel

After we met with the interesting captain, Elvira and I wandered off to find Nora. Knowing her, she would probably be sampling the drinks.

Sure enough, there she was, sitting next to Chaudhary and swirling her drink in the most nonchalant and dramatic way at the same time. I grinned. It was good to see her again.

She made eye contact with us as we walked up, and all I wanted to do was hug her and ask her how she was doing, but we were here on business first, so I just sat down next to her. Nora touched her hat in salutations, and my eyes lingered on it. That was a ravishing hat.

I tore my eyes away and started my proposal. “I have a plan, and I would greatly appreciate your help, Nora. We’re planning on pushing the president and his Peacekeepers into the water for a distraction, but I would need help to make that go smoothly. We were hoping for that to happen tonight, but something came up, and we had to move our plans back a day. I will be meeting with the dear president soon to change the time of our meeting. I was wondering if you would be willing to let me borrow some of your crew to help out in this plan.”

Nora didn’t speak for a little bit, just watching, but then a smile slowly broke across her face. “Well, hello to you, too, Sparrow. My, but you are in the thick of it, aren’t you.” She paused, sipping her drink. “…How many do you need, and what do we need to know? Just say the word.”

I grinned. I had missed her so much! “Thank you. I should only need four other assistants, since Elvira also agreed to help. I am posing as a Capitol reporter wanting to interview Snow, and while I’m ‘interviewing’ him, the assistants will throw the Peacekeepers overboard. Then we’ll proceed to throw the dear president overboard.”

“I’ve seen the reports, and I’d wondered what you were up to. I believe you really did learn a thing or two from your stay on my ship. You’ve grown since then.” She added the last sentence almost distractedly, but it still made me swell with pride.

Chaudhary grinned over at me. “Four should be no problem. We have half that right here.”

I grinned back at her. “Are you volunteering Nora? I didn’t think she’d want to get her hands dirty throwing someone else overboard.”

Chaudhary grinned at Nora. “What do you say, love? Get your hands dirty?”

She daintily examined her fingernails. “I’ll wear gloves.”

Business was over, so I could tease now. I smiled at Nora. “Then we have an agreement. Thank you! But I must say, that hat of yours is simply gorgeous. I might have to add it to my own collection.” I ran my finger over the tip of my own hat.

“Yours is marvelous.” She beamed. “Touch mine, and you forfeit your fingers.”

Damn, I missed her. “But a sparrow doesn’t have fingers…”

“Touché.” She held up her drink in toast. “It’s good to see you again, Sparrow…Good to see you’ve spread your wings.”

Lynne

That night, I was supposed to dance with Aster, and I was supposed to look happy, but that Peacekeeper uniform meant I didn’t want to look at him. He was frowning at me.

“Ev,” I flinched at the nickname. “are you okay? What are you seeing right now?”

I swallowed hard. “You in a Peacekeeper uniform. They—they did something to make you work for them. You might not even be aware of it. I don’t know how the magic they mentioned works. And it’s all because of me. I am so sorry.”

He squeezed my hand. “It’s not like that at all. They’re lying to you, Ev. I’m not working for them.”

I couldn’t believe that. Not after the video. Not after seeing all my friends in Peacekeeper uniforms. Of course they would want them to tell me that they were fine, just to hurt me worse later.

His voice came out as a whisper. “Please, Ev. Please. Believe me. I want to help you. Please.”

“I can’t believe you, Aster. I’m sorry. They’re using you against me, and this will just hurt worse if I believe you. I have to escape and help you once I have enough resources to do that.”

The dance ended, and I walked off. I was not obligated to stay. I had to find Lynn and start escaping.

#writeblr hunger games #whg #writeblr

2 notes · View notes