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cherryclxud · 2 days

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Catch me if you can Lord Holmes pt2

(ENOLA HOLMES)!Sherlock x BRIDGERTON! reader

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Description: a writer by the name of Marcus Bradford has taken the Ton by storm with his weekly edition chapter of a crime story, Sherlock is tasked with finding Marcus Bradford and solving the case of the abominable bride. but what if meeting a certain Bridgerton girl distracts him from the case?

Word count: 5.8k

Warnings: none

Taglist <3 : @frost-queen @siannaplmn @annesunlight @jolixtreesunn @probabydeadbynow @chloepluto1306 @gayandfairycore @queenfairyfangirl @viylikescats @hipsternerd9 @delusional-4-fake-people

read below for credits.

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SLEEPING AT 221B BAKER STREET USUALLY came easy to Enola. Seeing as there was quite literally very little for her to do, however, for the past 2 nights it has become increasingly difficult for her not to get out of bed and shout at her brother to put the violin down.

Sherlock was stuck, and Enola could tell by his incessant playing of the violin, the notes he was playing were all gloomy grey. With a sigh, she put her head under the pillow and slammed her hand over it to cover her ears in the hope of respite from the sound. Of course, for the first 4 hours he was playing Enola felt sympathy, but when his playing started to get in the way of her sleep that's when her sympathy towards Sherlock turned to contempt towards the violin.

She had reached the point where she imagined scenarios of her grabbing scissors and cutting the strings, or of her taking the violin and throwing it out the window.

Somehow the music playing seemed to penetrate through the pillow, making the girl move the pillow, turn to her back and glare at the ceiling. She got up and stomped the the drawing room where her brother sat there playing the insipid instrument.

“SHERLOCK” she shouted over the music causing her brother to play a wrong note before stopping and turning to her. “Enola? Shouldn't you be asleep by now?” he looked out the window and saw the moon still high in the sky.

Enola crossed her arms while rolling her eyes, “geez Sherlock that's a great idea, i was getting quite tired and had no idea how to remedy it, you have truly opened my eyes” Her voice was full of sarcasm yet Sherlock paid no mind to it as he was distracted.

“Hmm yes well I suppose you should get to it”.

Enola scoffed as she saw her brother pick up the violin about to resume his playing once more “Sherlock! I can't if you insist on playing at this time.” she pointed to the instrument as the older Holmes looked down at it with a sigh.

“Ah, I see, my apologies sister I seemed to have gotten carried away” he places the instrument on its stand before slamming it down on the settee with a sigh and closes his eyes as he continues to think.

Enola turns around, happy that the peace and quiet has finally infiltrated the home, she goes on her way to her room and just as she was about to go in she stops. She turns to look to her brother, she really felt pity for him at this point, losing sleep over looking for this man who could quite literally be anywhere in England.

“Sherlock, what's wrong?”

Sherlock opens his eyes and lifts his head to look at his sister. “Nothing Enola you should go to bed, I promise I won't play anymore”

He watches as his sister walks across the room only stopping at the coffee table to pick up his tobacco pipe and hold it in between her lips in thought. “Oh look at me I'm Sherlock and I must find out everything about everyone yet never let anyone find out anything about me” she spoke in a mock deep voice as she sat next to him.

HE leaned forward and snatched the pipe from her mouth before wiping the mouthpiece with his shirt. Enola watched as he lit the pipe with a match and smoked in silence, a frown etched on his face. She decided to change the subject hoping it would get her brother to open up more about what was bothering him.

“Y/n and i have been writing to each other”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow “y/n Bridgerton? The viscount's sister?” Enola nodded

“Yes we have been speaking since we met Nonestop, she is actually quite amusing.” Enola smiled recounting the letters they both shared. Sherlock rolled his eyes but deep inside was happy that his sister had found someone to be friends with. He was worried that his taking care of her had caused his disinterest in forging real connections with people had spread to her. He didn't want her to lean on him and not connect with anyone else.

He found himself grateful for y/n's sudden but effective presence in his sister's life.

“She's quite like you, you know?” Enola spoke looking nowhere in particular. This caught Sherlock's attention as he looked back to his sister, “How so?”

“Well for starters she's smart…well not as smart as you, no one as smart as you” Enola rolled her eyes before grabbing a small rubber ball she found lying on the floor and bounced it up and down a few times, “She reads a lot, she told me when her brother would return from oxford for the summer she would take the books he'd read and read and study his essays and annotations”

Sherlock, who was staring at the floor where the ball was bouncing, chuckled quietly remembering one year at Oxford when Anthony had returned from his stay with his family missing the book he was meant to be studying for the semester and sheets of essays he had worked on during the time off, and how frazzled he was trying to rewrite what he could from memory, only to have it delivered to him with a letter of apology from his sister later that night.

“You know she even read that boring book you wrote on like the two hundred and forty types of tobacco” she offhandedly spoke not noticing her brother's smile dropped “Two hundred and forty-three”

“I believe that that was the only copy sold brother mine,” she smirked

“I'll have you know I sold three copies” he grumbled looking away.

Enola laughed “That's because Mycroft and I each bought a copy in support of you”

Sherlock scoffed and stood up walking to the window and looked outside pretending to be angry at his sister.

“Oh don't sulk brother you know that doesn't work on me, the print shop refused to print any more copies of your books in advance, that's how bad it did.” She leaned back in her seat with a smirk, “She invited me to breakfast at Bridgerton house tomorrow, can you take me there?”

Sherlock turned with a nod “I can drop you off and th-” he stopped mid-sentence as an idea struck him, “what did you just say?”

Enola looked at her brother worried that he was too busy to take her “She invited me for breakfast tomorrow and I wish for you to take me there. If you are busy I can take a carriage so no worri-”

“No no before that”

Enola tried to replay the conversation “I told you not to sulk, then that the book you wrote won't get printed in advance any longer”

Sherlock then turned to face away and walked to his desk that was placed in the drawing room and picked up one of the many newspapers that were turned to page 4, turned to the back of the paper and read down the page till he reached what he was looking for.

‘Tibalt's Printing Press

5th Northumberland street

London’

Sherlock smiled looking down at the paper, “Of course, Minnie always ends up in the kitchen when she's hungry.”

Enolas eyes turn the the left as she racks her brain trying to think what in the world her brother is going on about, “pardon?”

She watched as her brother scribbled some writing on a piece of paper before marching to his pin board on the wall and sticking a pin through the newspaper set on the last page. He stepped back with a smile, Enola stood up from her seat and walked to her brother's side.

“Sherlock, is everything alright?”

The brother looked at her and nodded “It's perfect, all back on track thanks to your friend,” Enola raised an eyebrow.

“Y/n? How did she help? Wait where are you going this late?” She watched as her brother picked up his coat and the paper he scribbled on. He walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the top of her head.

“Don't worry dear sister, assuming all goes to plan I'll be back in time to take you to break your fast with the Bridgertons, sleep well!” And with that, he walked out of the flat door closing it behind him leaving Enola alone in the drawing room.

With a sigh she blew out the remaining candle that illuminated the room, her eyes stopped at the violin that stood defenceless in the room. A smirk found its way on her face as she looked back at the door making sure her brother wouldn't be back.

………….

THE CANDLE BURNED LIGHTING ONE corner of y/n's bed-chamber, her eyes fled over words on the page of the book she was reading, a new author writing under the title ‘A Lady’ had written a book named ‘Pride and Prejudice’, y/n was completely infatuated with the idea that the author had so boldly revealed that whoever she was, she was a woman.

Unlike Lady Whistledown, this writer resorted to writing harmless fiction that was incredible to read, and unlike y/n she was courageous enough to reveal she was a female, and yet it was a complete shame in y/n's eyes to see that the books didn't do as well as she thought it deserved.

She pulled her knees to her chest as she relaxed against the window, sitting on the window seat to be able to look outside easily. It had become her routine to sit at the window every night, therefore to anyone else seeing her wouldn't warrant any suspicion, but y/n wouldn't sleep until something in the scenery outside her window changed.

She just about turns to a new page when from the corner of her eye she sees a light flickering outside her window facing the garden, turning to look outside, she sees the figure of the personal valet of Anthony walking in the garden with a candlelit lantern, stopping mid-walk he turns to her window direction and then blows out his candle.

Y/n gave a smile and blew out her own candle, drowning out the last shred of light in her room, and stood up from her seat, shutting the book and placed it on her dresser. And with that, the valet walked back into the house leaving the girl to go to sleep peacefully.

…….

THE CARRIAGE WHEELS STOPPED IN FRONT OF THE printing shop letting Sherlock step out before paying the driver. The windows were illuminated by the candles inside the print shop, he watched as two men worked on the printing of the weekly newspaper.

Sherlock walked over to the door of the print shop and tried to push it open only to find it was locked closed, however, the attempt to open it had gained him the attention of the two men who looked at each other before turning to Sherlock.

The older one of the two motioned to the younger man to go deal with him as he went back to work. The younger man rolled his eye as he walked to the door and unlocked it before stepping out to stand face to face with the detective, “You know we don't get many people coming here that don't know how to read, this being a print shop and all”

Sherlock stared blankly, the man then pointed at the sign hanging in the window “It says closed, there I read it for you, come back in the morning” he then walked back inside but as he went to shut the door Sherlock stopped it with his foot causing the man to turn back to him.

“I'm here to find out about Marcus Bradford!”

The man tried to push Sherlock back “If you're a fan then you have no luck here, we only print what we get given.” managing to push Sherlock's foot out he went to slam the door only to once again get stopped but this time by his hand. Once the door was open again then holmes pulled his hand back in pain, shaking it to relieve the soreness.

“I'm a detective, I just have a few questions regarding Mr Bradford and I'll be on my way.”

The printshop employee scratched his chin before motioning for Holmes to follow him inside, he took him to the older man who had previously sent him to deal with the problem.

“Theo? I thought I told you to deal with it” the old man spoke, Theo, however, sighed “yeah well he's a detective, won't leave”

The old man's hands stopped working on the press as he turned to meet Sherlock Holmes’ eye, “Aye, yes I recognise you, you're that Holmes guy, to what do I owe the honour?”

Theo spoke up before Sherlock could “he says he's looking for Bradford, Mr Tibalt.”

“You a fan Mr. Holmes?” Tibalt spoke, prompting Sherlock to glare in his direction.

“I assure you quite the contrary, I have been just tasked with looking into him and his background” Sherlock made sure to walk up to the elder man and stand about a foot away from him, standing taller than him he was trying to add an intimidation factor “I would appreciate your cooperation”

Tibalt stood staring at Sherlock for a good 10 seconds before speaking “I'm not sure if I can actually be of help, I haven't met the man, and neither has Theo, he doesn't deliver the stories himself”

“Then who does?”

“It really depends.”

“On?”

“4 men rotate in delivering the story every week, each one wears a mask so I don't see their faces. They don't say a word, all I get is the story and a letter with instructions on what to do along with the payment.”

Dead end.

“And when was the last time one of the men?” Sherlock asked.

“About an hour before you graced us with your own presence. He'd be long gone. All I can tell you is I have never met mr Bradford or had any personal contact with him.”

Sherlock nodded in thought, his only chance of unveiling Mr. Bradford had quite literally beat him to the chase. Tibalt turned and faced away from Sherlock grabbing a freshly printed newspaper copy, “I can't help you much about Bradford but I can tell you this” he handed Sherlock the new concept that was due for release in the morning, “Something has changed, he's introducing new characters in the midst of the story, and it's clear that this chapter has shifted it all to focus on this character. I assumed it would interest you seeing as for the past couple of copies he had been facing what I assume is a dry spell of ideas”

Sherlock looked at Tibalt before opening the paper to page 4, his eyes skimmed over the paper and suddenly stopped in his tracks, “Detective Sherrinford?” He looked up to the print shopkeeper who shrugged his shoulders and turned to get back to printing the rest of the papers.

Understanding that he most likely wouldn't be able to get more information, he left his address and told them to let him know if there were any updates, then thanked them and left to go home.

……..

LONDON WAS BUSTLING THAT MORNING, the weekly paper distribution brought by an onslaught of arguments and opinions about the new chapter in the story. The introduction of the character Detective Sherrinford had brought about mixed feelings.

Some believed that Bradford was losing his touch and was doing what he could to keep the story going, others believed that this was just a long-winded way of Marcus telling them that the real story was about to begin, especially with the way he ended off this week's chapter.

“The game is afoot?” Enola put down the newspaper against her lap, she looked towards Sherlock who sat across from her in the carriage on the way to the Bridgertons. He shrugged his shoulders as he moved the curtains to gauge how far along they were until the house, “A change I presume, seems Marcus Bradford has decided to take the story in a different direction” he replied, there was a tinge of frustration in his voice.

The carriage stopped in front of the Bridgerton house and Sherlock stepped out before helping Enola out next, the footman took them into the house where they were allowed into the drawing room where Anthony, Benedict, Eloise, Gregory and Violet sat.

Anthony being the first to see them stood up in surprise when he saw the Holmes sibling there, “Lord Holmes what a pleasant surprise this morning” he stood up and walked to them and shook their hands before inviting them further into the drawing room in the direction of his family, “this is my mother.” Violet stood from her seat with a smile, as Sherlock took her hand and placed a light kiss on it, then Anthony introduced the rest of his siblings in the room before turning to Sherlock “To what do I owe this fine visit to Holmes?”

“I invited Enola for breakfast brother” y/n who had just walked into the room spoke as she approached the group. Sherlock watched as she and Enola hugged, then as she turned to him and shook his hand, “Good morning Lord Holmes, it's very nice to see you again”

“Likewise Miss Bridgerton” he nodded to her. “I presume you have read the new chapter out today lord holmes, He added a new character what was his name” y/n put her hand the her chin as she pretended to have forgotten the name which Sherlock could of course detect however decided not to call her out on her actions and played along “detective Sherrinford i presume is the name you are trying to remember miss Bridgerton”

“Ahh yes, you are quite right lord holmes, I'm quite forgetful when it comes to these things” she lied jokingly as she spoke, making a small smile play on Sherlock's own lips.

“It's a shame seeing as the author has now added this character, who is a recluse detective who will possibly that forever to solve a case with already many plotholes, the only way the story can go is down.”

y/ns smile fell for a second but she made sure to replace it quickly enough to not be noticeable, “I don't know, I have come to take quite the liking to Detective Sherrinford, I think he will do great to solve this case, I think this story is getting better” she spoke with a smile.

As Sherlock and y/n spoke no one really paid any mind to them. Anthony and Benedict were busy talking, Enola had struck up a conversation with Eloise and Gregory was reading the story in the paper, and no one was paying them any mind…

But violet, she could see it.

Her daughter never took the time to talk to a man for this long about anything, not even about books or stories there was something there. And she was adamant about helping it grow.

“I don't know lord holmes, I would have thought you’d like the character, I think Sherrinford is exactly like you.” y/n’s words caused Enola and Eloise to look towards them in shock, “y/n! You are completely right, how could I not make that connection earlier myself “Enola spoke as she walked to the pair quickly.

“What are you two on about, the man is nothing like me”

And there stood the three arguing about why Sherrinford is or isn't like Sherlock until inevitably, a maid walked into the drawing room and called out that breakfast was ready.

“I guess this means I should take my leave not, Enola ill pick you up in 3 hours” Just as Sherlock was speaking about leaving, Violet interrupted his farewells “Lord Holmes please do join us for breakfast”

Sherlock just about shook his head and was about to decline before Violet spoke again “I had the cook prepare extra just for you” and with that, he couldn't refuse, no matter how much he wanted to.

….

The family and the Holmes siblings filtered into the dining area, Enola and y/n sat next to each other, and just about when Gregory was about to sit next to y/n on her other side, his mother motioned for him to sit elsewhere leaving Sherlock no other seat but that one, not that it really bothered him.

The families started eating and exchanging conversation, the atmosphere was delightful, and Enola was aglow, it had been a long while since she sat down for breakfast with a family seeing as usually she and Sherlock wake up at different times and end up eating anything.

“Lord Sherlock, it really is a pleasure having you and your sister here, I must say I'm surprised I havent seen you in the ton more often, no soirees nor balls” Violet spoke as she cut another piece of the omelette in her plate. Sherlock swallowed the food in his mouth before nodding to Violet “That is indeed true viscountess Bridgerton, I simply haven't found the time to integrate into society, there's too much work and research and clients. In fact it is my fault Enola has yet to debut, I had been meaning to help her this season however i got sidetracked.”

Violet nodded her face full of sympathy towards the two siblings, it was a known fact around the ton that the Holmes family had lost not one but both parents in the same year, their father had been taken ill for months before suffering through an unfortunately painful exit and their mother had been so in love with him and followed him mere months after due to a broken heart.

Since then little has been known about the Holmes family, they had become reclusive and barely interacted with the rest of the ton. Sherlock and Enola, who were 9 and 2 at the time, were put under the care and sanction of their older brother Viscount Mycroft who himself was 15. It was like the Holmeses ceased to exist any longer, that was until a few years ago when Viscount Mycroft got married and Sherlock moved out to a flat in Central London, it was widely believed that Sherlock found the Viscount Holmes’ new wife to be unappealing to share a mansion with, sooner or later in a visit back home he decided he would take his younger sister to live with him.

“Well better late than never I say” Violet spoke softly with a smile targeted at Sherlock. Her eyes flicker to y/n who was eating her food quietly while listening to the conversation then back to Sherlock. “you know, there is a soiree tomorrow night at the Dunphrees,”

Anthony stared at his mother in shock understanding what she was doing “Mother!”

Violet of course ignored him knowing Anthony really is only good for ruining her plans. “We shall be attending, I say you should come”

Enola looked up from her plate excited “Oh can we brother, it sounds like so much fun” y/n snorted quickly while holding back a laugh. Sherlock glanced at her before looking to his sister whose eyes was practically begging him, “ Enola you don't had a dress for the occasion and I doubt one can be made in time”

Y/n smirked as she looked at him, “That is no worry at all lord holmes i have 4 daughters surely I have a couple of dresses to spare that will be her size.” Violet interjected. y/n and Enola looked at each other excitedly, Sherlock's lips pressed together in a semi-frustrated smile before looking at his sister and y/n. Enola looked very excited as she shared a hug with y/n, and for a moment his eyes lingered on the Bridgerton girl, he was thankful for her existence in his sister's life, she was in fact a very interesting person to talk to, and maybe having her around would make him feel less guilty over not always being there for his sister. The said Bridgerton girl turned to face Sherlock awaiting his decision, only to be met with his own eyes looking at her, he quickly looked away while clearing his throat embarrassed at having been caught staring at her, but this action did not elude Violet’s eyee, she smiled softly at the bashfulness of sherlock.

With a sigh, he nodded albeit quite a bit reluctantly but part of him knew that Enola needed this, and in fact he needed a break, so maybe he needed this too. “I don't see why not, God knows we require a chance for respite.” Enola gleamed at the thought of attending her first soiree tomorrow.

The families continued their breakfast and their endless conversations, many topics including the breach of secrecy of Anthony and Sherlock Oxford days, they even told stories of the Duke of Hastings from their days living together. Enola revealed quite a bit of her childhood activities, and the two siblings shared their distaste for their sister in law, hyacinth chatted about how their elder sister Daphne would have almost been married to the prince of Prussia had it not been for her love for the duke, this conversation managed to segway into Eloise talking about Lady Whistledown and who she may be.

“Speaking of hidden writers,” y/n spoke as she turned to look at Sherlock “How has your hunt for Mr Bradford lord homles, someone of your calibre must have reached some conclusion.”

Sherlock nearly choked on the tea he was drinking, everyone at the table went quiet actually quite curious about his findings. “Lord Sherlock you found Mr. Marcus Bradford?” Gregory exclaimed, having been quite a fan of the writer's weekly updates.

Wiping his mouth with a handkerchief the detective shook his head “I'm afraid I'm still looking, he has proven to be quite a difficult man to find. I went to the printing shop that prints and distributes the weekly paper, unfortunately, they have no clue who he is either, seems he doesn't deliver the chapters himself for all I know he is on the other side of England.”

y/n’s eyes moved to the side in thought as everyone sighed in frustration expressing their disappointment in the possibility of not knowing the writer behind the book.

“Well that would make no sense” y/n spoke up causing all eyes to move to her.

“It makes perfect sense miss Bridgerton, there are other places in England a man can live other than Mayfair” Sherlock spoke sarcastically, confused as to why y/n would find such a simple ordeal strange, his words caused both Anthony and Benedict to chuckle.

y/n glared at her brothers then directed her glare to Sherlock “Laugh all you want men, I have a point to make. Tell me Lord Holmes why would a man on the other side of England write a story only for it to be published in Mayfair only? Surely he wants to see the fruits of his labour in person, even if he doesn't take the credit for it.”

“What makes you so sure that the man only has it published in Mayfair and not all over England?” Sherlock spoke, now completely serious, of course, he was quite upset that a point like this could have fled his mind. He had been too busy looking for the man himself when the actual paper held most of the clues he would need anyway. He thought it would be best to listen to y/n seeing as it was her words that triggered him to find the first clue in the first place.

Something told him that she knew much more than she let on about this case.

“Simple. We receive two different newspapers per week, one is the English paper, and the other is the Mayfair weekly paper, and yet the story only appears in the Mayfair weekly. That means your elusive writer is either an idiot-” Violet scolded her daughter for her use of an insult, however y/n brushed it off with an apologetic look aimed at her, before facing Sherlock again “-and is sending a copy of his writing to every separate town and city in England rather than just placing it in the English paper that goes all over England, or he is walking among us here in Mayfair”

The two stared eye to eye for a good 10 seconds in silence that even Colin had to clear his throat to almost ease the tension. Sherlock was the first to speak, “Well deduced Miss Bridgerton, you seemed to have caught on to a point I seemed to have missed” he smirked, “This is the second time, one more time and I may just have to engage you.” y/n’s smile dropped at his words and her face heated up as violet and Enola let out a quiet gasp. Sherlock cleared up his throat and quickly went to fix his wording.

“Engage you in other cases i mean, sometimes I could use an outsider's eye on the matter” he spoke while avoiding y/n’s eyes, his fingers tracing the rim of the teacup in his hands. y/n was in a similar situation but had a small smile that danced on her lips.

“Holmes doesn't jest” y/ns smiled as her eyes shot up to look at Anthony who had made a habit of ruining the moment “Y/n is a young lady and shouldn’t really be exposed to some of the cases you deal with, don't you agree” she glared at him. “And what of it brother? What does my being a lady have to do with a case? It’s not like crime stops when I walk in the room just because I'm a lady.” she spoke while rolling her eyes, she knew her brother meant well but sometimes he was overbearing.

“y/n-”

“Actually viscount Bridgerton, I completely understand your argument” Sherlock's words caused y/n to look at him disappointed “However as Miss Bridgerton has worded it wonderfully, crime doesn't stop because the fairer sex exists. I truly believe there is no such thing as protecting them from the truth, only hiding the truth. I think Miss Bridgerton would benefit from being challenged by a few questions, no need to see a crime scene herself. I do this with Enola all the time, and she doesn't seem to mind at all.”

Enola quickly nodded at her brother's words in agreement “It's true Lord Bridgerton, it’s quite fun, like solving puzzles, it keeps me occupied and gives me the ability to spend time with Sherlock.”

Violet interjected before Anthony could speak again,” These are quite bold ideas you share lord holmes, not many men would agree with you.”

“And not many women too” Eloise muttered with an eye roll.

But Sherlock kept his resolve and looked to y/n and his sister before looking back to Violet, “Well viscountess Bridgeton, I am quite a fanatic of what many may call strange ideals. I believe that a day will come, when a war will break out,” the whole table gasped in shock at his words, “one half of the human race against the other, the invisible army always standing by the men's shoulder, there has to come a day where us men stand back and view women as equals who deserve respect and demand to be heard”

“I think it's a wonderful idea lord holmes, you letting y/n help out in your cases that is.” Violet broke the silence as she clasped her two hands together, she met eyes with y/n who smiled at her, she smiled back and gave her daughter a wink.

If he were to be the man her daughter would love, then she would rather back her up than be against her and cause her daughter to abstain from the thought of love or marriage in general.

Gregory sat up excitedly “Lord Holmes! When you do find Mr. Bradford do you think you can get him to sign a copy of his books for me?”

Sherlock raised an eyebrow with a smile at the excitement in his voice “Thats IF, but I don't see why not”

“No, it’s WHEN, Lord Holmes, I’m sure you are much closer to the man than you think” y/n spoke while motioning to Anthony valet to fetch her more tea with a smile. Sherlock looked at the teacup in y/n’s hands in confusion “I’m not sure im any closer to finding him, no one in the ton knows him”

The valet held the teacup as he poured tea for y/n as she spoke “Who says Marcus Bradford is the writer's real name?” it was like clockwork, Sherlock looked at y/n as she spoke, and the teacup slipped out of the valet's hands dropping some of the contents of the cup straight into y/ns lap. Sherlock quickly grabbed a tablecloth from in front of him and started dabbing the tea on her lap, them action caused her eyes to widen and for her to stand up quickly and move away, Anthony and Benedict stood up, both rushing to their sister, countless apologies were spewed from the valet's mouth. It was actually quite chaotic.

“It’s fine, I'm fine” y/n spoke with a nervous smile. “ one of the downsides of being a girl is wearing many layers, though I suppose in this case it is an upside” she let out a giggle while looking at everyone, her eyes moved to the valet who was still apologising “no harm no foul Hudson, I'm fine”

“I may have to get changed though, Enola,” she turned to face her friend, “Why don't you join me, we can look for a dress for you to wear for tomorrow's soiree”

The younger Holmes got up with a smile and joined her as the two rushed off to y/n’s room.

Everyone returned to their seats and slowly continued on with their conversation, however, Sherlock felt uneasy now in his seat, looking up in front of him his eyes met with Anthony’s eyes, who almost seemed to be glaring back at him. The eldest Bridgerton brother hadn't missed how Sherlock reacted to the tea dropped on his sister, he wanted to diminish any feelings that may be growing from y/n towards Holmes as fast as possible, to him Sherlock wasn't right for his sister.

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AN: First of all I am absolutely blown away by the number of likes and requests for tags I have gotten, I love you all, literally thought this story was going to flop. I'm sorry it took a while for the second chapter to come out hopefully next chapter won't take as long. TRULY LIKE WOW.

This chapter has so many easter eggs feel free to let me know which ones you found out through my ask box or comments, and if there is smth you would like me to add in any upcoming chapters let me know too<3

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I do not own Bridgerton

I do not own Sherlock or Enola Holmes

and I most certainly don't own the abominable bride story

I do not own Sherrinford

they belong to their rightful owners

I only own the fic idea.

#bridgerton #sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #enola holmes #enola and sherlock #bridgerton reader #bridgerton x reader #sherlock holmes fanfiction #crossover #fanfic #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock #imagine #bridgerton x enola holmes #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x female reader

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janeyseymour · 2 months

Text

stick season

summary: it's stick season. Hurt.

WC: ~1.85k

Feel free to listen to my cover of the Noah Kahan song!

Melissa has been your girlfriend for a year now. And she just joined you on a long weekend to go visit your hometown up in Vermont. Your parents absolutely adored Melissa, giving you the stamp of approval on your newest girlfriend, and you couldn’t be happier about that.

It was warm, it was cozy, it was perfect. Or at least that’s what you thought. But apparently you were wrong, because the drive back to Philly just felt wrong.

As you promised me that I was more than all the miles combined, you must have had yourself a change of heart like halfway through the drive, because your voice trailed off exactly as you passed my exit sign; kept on drivin' straight and left our future to the right.

Melissa had told you that it was entirely worth all of the miles you were putting on her car to go up there with you over the weekend, and you can’t help but smile with joy. And then she’s kissing the back of your hand and promising you that you were more than all of those miles combined.

But then, about halfway through the car ride home, there’s a shift. She takes her hand off of your thigh as she drives, and when she passes the exit that she usually would to take you back to your apartment, she goes silent, biting her lip as if she’s deep in thought.

When she pulls in to her own driveway, she looks to you sadly.

“Hun? What’s wrong?” you ask, clearly concerned about this sudden shift in attitude.

She bites her lip nervously. “Y/N, I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers.

“Do what?” you ask, although deep down you know what she’s hinting at.

She gestures between the two of you. “This. I- I’m not ready for the commitment that you’re ready for… you want to get married and have kids, and move back up to Vermont, and I can’t do that. I- I’m sorry.”

You leave her house in a puddle of tears. The uber driver that gets the misfortune of taking you home gives you quite a few concerned looks through the rear-view mirror.

Now I am stuck between my anger, and the blame that I can’t face, and memories are something even smoking weed does not replace. And I’m terrified of weather cause I see you when it rains. Doc told me to travel but there’s Covid on the planes.

You’re furious. You don’t know who you’re more mad at: yourself or Melissa. She just spent the last three nights with you up in Vermont playing the part of perfect girlfriend before dumping you and leaving you to explain to your parents that you’re single again. And you’re mad at yourself because you knew she didn’t want the future you did, but you had foolishly hoped she would change her mind. You suppose you should take the blame for that one, but you don’t want to face it- admit that it was your fault for putting blind faith in her.

Deciding that you need to relax, you roll yourself a joint, but the memories of you and Melissa over the past year just continue to replay in your mind. And for the first time ever since you started smoking weed, it doesn’t help the pain you feel in your chest. The drug might be able to remedy physical aches and pains, but it sure as hell can’t fix a broken heart; you’re not sure anything can right now.

You don’t leave your house for the next few weeks unless absolutely necessary. You’re a mopey mess, and your therapist finally tells you that you should travel. And you consider going back to Vermont because being in the same city as your now ex-girlfriend hurts too much. But there’s Covid on the planes, and you can’t quite justify driving up to Vermont on Friday night just to leave again on Sunday morning. Come Friday, you really do still toy with the idea of making your way back to your parents’ house, but there’s a cold front making it’s way through the Mid-Atlantic all the way up through New England, and you’re not about to attempt to drive through seven hours of rain and wind. Besides, when it rains, you can only think of Melissa. She used to have you dance out in the rain with her before cozying up on the couch and watching movies. She claimed it was the only way to spend a rainy day.

There’s a season that happens in New England when Fall starts to make its exit and Winter presents itself- and every year, around stick season, your life changes. Melissa came during stick season last year, and she left during this stick season. It hurts.

You end up seeing her mother at the grocery store, and you look like a wreck. You give her a shy wave just to be polite- things may have ended with her daughter, but it’s clear to you that she’s entirely forgotten about your existence or previous presence in Melissa’s life.

That stings, and you make your way to the alcohol aisle, throwing a few bottles of wine in your cart so you can mope and play the victim at home tonight. You suppose you’ll just drink until a few of your friends from college come home for Christmas.

So I thought that if I piled something good on all my bad that I could cancel out the darkness I inherited from Dad. No, I am no longer funny cause I miss the way you laugh.

For the childhood that you had with your father, the relationship that you have with him as a grown woman is nothing short of a miracle. Because of everything you witnessed growing up as a child with having your father for a Dad, you came out better. You knew where to draw the line with certain things. You were funny because of the trauma that he caused you though too… but you aren’t funny anymore because the off color jokes that you used to make were usually just there for Melissa- and you miss the way she laughs. So now, you’re back to the quiet and shy, reserved person that you used to be before she brought out the best (and worst) in you.

You once called me forever, now you still can’t call me back.

You remember when she told you that she was going to be yours forever. You didn’t think that she would ever say something like that- you knew that she hadn’t ever wanted to get married again, but you continued to pursue her romantically. And it was all looking really good for you, until she broke up with you.

You’ve called her a few times, to beg and grovel for her to take you back- tell her that you didn’t care about marriage and children as long as it meant you got to keep her in your life, but she refused to pick up the phone or call you back.

You end up flying home after a few weeks because you simply can’t bear the pain of this heartbreak alone, and you can’t quite justify driving for a weekend. It’s still stick season though, and you feel the cool air wash over you as you exit the airport and try to hail a cab back to your childhood home.

After the flight back home, you see Melissa’s mother at the airport. She has a sign that she’s holding indicating that she’s picking someone up. But she doesn’t see you, and after the last meeting with her, you doubt she remembers you… she’s definitely forgotten about your existence by now.

You’ve come to terms with the fact that your breakup with the Schemmenti was half your fault at this point, but you still take the Septa to get closer to your house before stopping at a liquor store- with the intention of once again playing the victim and drowning your sorrows in a bottle of tequila.

Maybe once you’ve seen some of your old college friends, you’ll head back north to see your hometown friends when they come.

And I’ll dream each night of some version of you that I might not have, but I did not lose. Now you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoes, and I’m split in half but that’ll have to do.

That redheaded beauty has haunted your dreams since you broke up with her. And you miss her dearly. But in each of your dreams, she’s a different version of herself, and it’s quite odd. Somewhere deep inside though, you know none of the versions of Melissa that your mind had made up are her- so you didn’t really lose her in a sense.

You always wake up though and sigh. She isn’t next to you like she should be. And when you head into your living room, you see a pair of her shoes that she left here and hasn’t asked to get back yet.

Your heart splits in half every time you see those shoes. You should just throw them out at this point, but you don’t want to touch them- if they’re there, maybe she’ll come back to you one day.

Oh that’ll have to do… My other half was you. I hope this pain’s just passing through, but I doubt it.

She really was your other half, and you hope that the pain that you feel every time you see her shoes passes eventually, but you doubt it will.

And I love Vermont but it’s the season of the sticks. And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed, and it’s half my fault but I just like to play the victim. I’ll drink alcohol til my friends come home for Christmas. And I’ll dream each night of some version of you that I might not have, but I did not lose. Now you’re tire tracks and one pair of shoes, and I’m split in half but that’ll have to do.

Stick season passes by, and you’re still left on your own. Christmas time comes, and you find yourself with a bottle in your hand almost every night to try to help numb the pain. It’s becoming less and less, but you still miss her with all your heart. You know that being split in half will just have to do… maybe next stick season will bring you something happy again.

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary

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beomgyw · 2 months

Text

THE BOY IN THE DARK

you chose to say home

if you're new here, go back to the beginning !!

after saying goodnight to huening kai, who left the room stumbling around in a pretty hilarious state of tipsiness, you do your best to tidy up the mess you both left behind. but let's face it, grandma's got this uncanny ability to sniff out chaos no matter how well you try to hide it. with a shrug, you figure you'd deal with the inevitable scolding when the time came and finally head up to your room.

you're itching for a shower—it's the perfect remedy to shake off that lingering smell of travel and feel fresh and clean before going to sleep. it isn't all that late, and lucky for you, your room had its own bathroom. so, you decide to treat yourself to a late-night shower without worrying about waking anyone else up.

before cranking up the water, you do a quick sound check, making sure your playlist won't blast through the house. thankfully, the coast is clear, and you can shower to your heart's content with some music. as you shower, you don't hear a thing coming from any other part of the house... but the door bell rings without you noticing it. six times.

done with the shower and back in your room, you finally get comfy and snuggle up in bed. but then it hits you – you have those cigarettes tucked away in your bag. you hadn't planned on smoking inside the house, not really sure about which the consequences would be grandma-scolding-wise, but with everyone knocked out and your room leading to a balcony, why not?

so, you grab your smokes and throw on a hoodie, sneaking out onto the balcony for some alone time. you're glad to discover that, unlike in seoul, the stars are perfectly visible here.

however, as you're about to light up your cigarette, something suddenly whizzes past your face, making you jump. you flinch, thinking it could be a bird or some disoriented bat. but then, another object grazes your cheekbone, and when you look down, there's a pebble chilling on the ground. weird.

you're just about to lean over the balcony to see what's going on when you hear a voice, a bit desperate sounding, saying, "huening-ah, come on! i never ask for anything!"

and from the content of the message, it could've been yunjin. but the voice was male.

your curiosity all fired up, you lean in, trying to catch every word as the voice shifts from a whisper-yell to a full-on shout. "huening, i know you're awake! fucking quit ignoring me!" more pebbles come flying, this time with better aim, landing near huening's room, which just happens to be adjacent to yours.

then, a frustrated "screw it" is followed by rustling in the nearby tree branches. your eyes go wide as you see a hand emerge from the foliage, gripping the fence of kai's balcony. slowly, a figure emerges—a boy, his features all shadowed by the night. you squint, trying to see better, but all you can make out is his silhouette against the moonlit sky.

"are you trying to rob us?" you blurt out.

in the darkness, you get to distinguish his eyes going wide in surprise as he meets your gaze. all from the shock, he slips and disappears back into the foliage. you hear the unfortunate thud of his fall and his pained groans from the ground.

you lean over the balcony, trying to get a better look. "shit, are you okay?" you call out. "wait, i'm coming down!"

without wasting a moment, you dash down the stairs and out of the house, where you find the boy, grimacing and clutching at his knee.

"is it bad?" you ask.

he meets your gaze. "agonising."

"let me take a look," you offer, even though you know your medical skills are pretty much non-existent. it's just something people say, right? you breathe a sigh of relief when you realize it's just a bloody wound – painful, yeah, but nothing too serious.

"thank goodness," you mutter, "i'd probably pass out if it was worse, like a bone sticking out or something."

"oh, it was," he says, wincing a bit. "but i managed to shove the bone back in myself. a real man wouldn't shed tears over a scratch on the knee… it was major. like medieval torture kind of pain..."

you chuckle. "well, wanna come inside? i'm definitely no doctor, but I can at least offer some sanitizer or slap a band-aid on that."

"um… y-yeah. sure, yeah," he stammers before following you into the house.

as you step into the room, the warm glow of the lights falls gently across his face, revealing features you hadn't fully appreciated until now. that's when you recognise him. he got hot during our senior year. he's mellowed out since then. and there he stands, his deep brown eyes catching the light, bangs brushing softly over his eyebrows, pretty lips. this is isn't a normal type of hot. it’s manhwa character hot, or promising young actor hot, or disney prince kind of of. definitely not beomgyu, that one shy kid from middle school.

you see him standing there, kinda awkward, like he's not sure what to do or where to go, probably waiting for a cue on where to sit down. It's kinda cute, you think, this boy dressed like he's in the bassist of an indie band, looking all lost. "please, get comfortable," you finally say, breaking the silence. "i bet you've spent more time in this house more than me in the past few years."

"you know who i am?" he asks, sounding surprised. he doesn't seem thrilled about it. like he doesn't enjoy being recognised, specially by you, who knew him only during middle school. you get the feeling.

"yeah, i remember you swingin' by to help grandma with her garden when she got the injury... and we used to be in the same class. plus, yunjin mentioned you... she gave me a brief introduction to huening's friends, really. so I just kinda put two and two together..." you start explaining, but then you spot a trickle of blood on his leg. "oh, hold on, let me grab the first aid kit... i'm sure grandma keeps it in the same spot..."

as you shuffle your way to the kitchen, he remains standing still in the middle of your living room, mentally pinching himself at this reunion that means way more to him than it does to you. but, of course, you're completely clueless. he's some cute boy you met years ago.

"take a seat, take a seat..." you instruct him, pointing at the couch, and he obeys. he settles onto the cushions as you make your way towards him, rummaging through the first aid kit. your fingers skim over all sorts of stuff as you try to figure out what might help with his scrape. getting yourself situated at his feet, you plonk the kit down next to you for easy access to whatever you might need.

with a cotton pad and iodine in one hand and a wet cloth in the other, you pause, momentarily unsure of the proper procedure. "huh. do you have any idea how to tend to a wound like this?" you ask, but get no answer. you decide that the correct step is to clean it with water, selecting the wet cloth as your working tool. "beomgyu? did you hit your head too?" you ask, glancing up at him. but he seems lost in thought, his gaze distant and unfocused.

he breaks away from his trance, his eyes refocusing on you, perhaps by you calling his name, perhaps by the wet cloth touching his skin. "i... sorry," he mumbles softly, "i'm not usually this quiet. seeing you is just like... being the middle school me again."

"is that a good thing?"

"i don't know yet,"

"well, I'm not that fond of my middle school self either," you confess, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focus on cleaning the blood from his leg.

he watches you work in silence, his thoughts swirling beneath the surface, until he finally speaks up. "you were cool," he says, his voice soft. "i always thought you were cool. i'm sorry nobody else saw that. It sucks, feeling so powerless… and getting picked on all the time. i should've stood up, done something but i was too shy. it sounds kinda shallow, but that's just... how i feel."

you offer him a reassuring smile. "they would've targeted you too. just like what happened to kai," you say, and your words keep coming out, fueled by the soju. "actually, the worst part wasn't even the bullying. it was everything that came after, how it changed me. i spent the rest of my life trying to prove to everyone that i was cool and smart and not the kind of person who should get bullied. but it broke me, all that work... striving for nothing. what good did it do? i stepped in here now as an adult and i felt just as small and helpless, like i was back to being a twelve-year-old girl again... i'm sorry, i kind of overshared...."

"you're good," he said, offering a warm smile. "and you're too hard on yourself. you know, huening and yunjin were always there to lay anyone out if anything happened..." he hesitates, then adds, "but now i am, too." he says, and you mutter a thanks, before he continues, "you probably don't remember me too well..."

"but i do–" you try to say, but he cuts you.

"not as much as i remember you." he says.

you're a bit flustered at this, not really knowing what he means, so you focus back on your medical duties. when you're done cleaning and disinfecting the wound, you tap his knee, "there you go, done. didn't even shed a tear, you're a tough guy… oh, and would you look at this!" you say, holding up a treasure you just found in the aid kit: a box of hello kitty band-aids. you slap two on his knee, forming a cross. "cutified war scars."

"it's a look, honestly," he replies with a smile, and he means it. and he does look pretty adorable, you think to yourself. but you quickly shake the thought away. you're not big on catching feelings. you grew up thinking nobody would ever like you, so you taught yourself not to like anyone. but funny thing is, he grew up with the same mindset. your coping mechanisms might've been different, but the sentiment was shared.

"anyway, i should get going. i've got work tomorrow," he suddenly announces, getting up from his seat.

"yeah, same here."

"oh, you got a job? where at?" he asks with sudden interest.

"just this bookstore near wavecrest beach..." you reply, noticing his face light up for reasons unknown to you.

"cool, that's cool! you gotta grab your coffee at the cuppa corner," he says with a sparkle in his eye. "they make the best one around."

"i will," you respond. "oh, by the way... not trying to pry, just curious... what brought you here in the first place?"

he tilts his head, a grin playing on his lips as he gestures towards his car parked outside. "oh, i was hoping to drag kai along to this... well, let's call it a spontaneous hangout."

you share a knowing chuckle. "well, he's completely knocked out. soju got the best of him."

his laughter fills the hallway, and you stare at him with a fool's smile. you think he's even more handsome when he's laughing. "it’s alright. i'll catch him next time," he says with a shrug, a twinkle in his eye.

"well, it was nice talking to you." you say.

"yeah, likewise. sleep well," he smiles, already making his way towards his car. there's a fleeting moment where he seems like he wants to say more, but he ultimately decides against it.

so that just happened. you're gonna go to bed thinking of beomgyu, but you better fall asleep; first day of work tomorrow !!

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the-dendrophile-bookdragon · 8 months

Text

Remedy

Pairing: Modern!Surgeon!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warning: fluff smut, p in v, slight angst, stress, smoking, mention of Targaryen drama, mention of violence, mention of hurting people

Summary: You meet Aemond's family...

Part 9/9

Masterlist

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The night you were about to meet Aemond’s family, was a very stressful day. It began with you running late due to you not wanting to get up. Aemond remedied it with hot kisses and a hot tea. Luring you out of your shared apartment and into his car. He drove you to work, promising to make it up to you after both your shifts.

Around 10 a.m., Aemond called to ask for cigarettes. He told you about his day and how stressful his shift was until now. How much he graved the calmness nicotine brings him. You reminded him of his goal of quitting smoking. He wanted to quit after seeing you have a coughing fit at a friend’s party of his. He felt bad and stopped smoking that night.

But on stressful days he craved the death sticks he smoked since he was sixteen. You had signed into the phone and told him he wanted to quit. You could hear the eye roll and the lighter being lit. But he put it away. Telling you he will chew on some gum.

When you both came home, Aemond’s stress levels were over the roof. He had surgery after surgery, nearly losing a patient on the table. He held you close mumbling into your neck. “It was just a kid. How can kids have this massive neurological damage?”

Aemond’s stress had the tenancy to turn into horniness. And he had a lot of stress today.

Next thing you knew you were lying on your couch, your work blouse ripped open. Your pencil skirt pushed to your hips as Aemond was above you, rutting into you like a started man.

He mouthed at your exposed chest. Biting the top of your breasts. You mewled, holding on to him as he used you as his stress relief in the most delicious way.

You were interrupted by his phone ringing. He ignored it the first time. But after the third time he groaned, stopping his movements, and reaching down towards his jeans and fishing his phone out.

“What?” He was annoyed, you heard and saw it. You lay still understand him on the couch as you listened. “Yes, I will be there. Yes, I told you I would bring her. Don’t you dare scare her away?” He looked down at you with a grin. “No, I didn’t scare her away yet.”

You grinned up at him. He was still deep inside of you. He groaned softly as you squeezed him. “No, Hel! We are not having sex right now. Got to go, see you later.”

He turned to you with a playful glare. “You will regret doing that.” He grabbed your hips, beginning to thrust more forcefully into you.

You sat in the winter garden of the huge mansion Aemond grew up in. You were alone, escaping the chaos in the dining room. Aemond warned you about family dinners. They always end in chaos. You smiled and asked him which family dinners wouldn’t, but you were so wrong. This was nearly a small civil war.

It ended with Aegon having been punched by Jace and Aemond walking away. Leaving you with Sara. Jace new girlfriend. You remember the night like it was yesterday when Baela called, telling you she had enough of Jace and broke up with him. She had come to at the time still Aemond’s apartment. You both slept in the guest room that night. Baela in your arms sobbing in your chest while you softly hummed a lullaby for her.

As you sat in the winter garden you saw Aemond walking by where you sat and turned into the hallway leading to the front door. He had a grim look on his face, his shoulders were tense. You followed him outside the mansion. He stood around the corner near his car trying to light a cigarette.

He looked to the side as he heard your steps in the cobblestone. He sighed and gave up as he saw your look of disappointment. You reached out for him to give you the things. He gave you the still unlit cigarette, the full pack and his lighter.

“I took everything away from you!” You were flabbergasted. Aemond chuckled. “Did you look everywhere?” You nodded. “Even in the back of my car underneath where the tools and spare car tire is.” Aemond chuckled again. “Well, the last of my hidden stash was in the first aid kit in my car.” You gasped. “Aemond, you are a doctor for God’s sake!”

Aemond walked over to you and took you in his arms. “Sorry, love. But work and now this,” He pointed behind you at the mansion where his family was inside. “It’s stressing me out.”

You cooed softly. You got up on your tip toes and softly pecked his neck. “When you need stress relief I am here. Whatever you need me for. Talking, going to the gym with you, other exercises like before the dinner party.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him. Aemond chuckled. “I am right here. Next time you just send me an exploding head emoji and you will come home to a drawn bath and home-cooked meal.” Aemond was overwhelmed by your softness. He kissed you feverishly. His lips greedily kiss yours.

When your lungs began to burn you broke the kiss softly. Aemond peppered your yaw with small kisses. He mumbled something on your skin but you couldn’t make it out. You pulled away slightly. As far as you could Aemond holding you to his body. “Baby, what were you mumbling in my skin.” Aemond looked at you before leaning his forehead on yours. “I don’t want to be separated from you. Please marry me.” A huge grin spread across your face. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” An equal grin formed on Aemond’s face. He kissed you again, this time softer. A hand on your cheek, his thumb softly caressing it.

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funkzpiel · 7 months

Text

This is a Gift, you know...

[ warning, contains spoilers for Baldur's Gate 3 ] Gender Neutral Durge!Tav x Astarion, Post-Ending, little angsty fluff

A year after the fall of the Absolute, Astarion hides his longing well - but it is hard to forget the warmth of the sun when each day it rises without you. Tav can't change that, but that doesn't mean they can't do anything to help. After all, when has Astarion ever said no to a good surprise?

_____

It has been a year since the fall of the Absolute. A year since Tav denied Bhaal, then was revived after their father's murderous red grip stopped their heart within their living chest. A year since Astarion spurned Cazador's grand plan, ending the man's bid for unrivaled power. A year since they had said goodbye to their merry band of miscreants, one way or another.

One year since the last time Astarion had last seen the sun.

Tav ran a hand over their mouth, unable to forget the look of surprised joy that had bled over Astarion's face the moment he realized they had won - that the Absolute had been defeated - quickly crushed by the searing horror of recognition when his skin had begun to burn. Forced to scamper to the nearest shadow, whimpering in frightened little bursts as every last square inch of him smoked.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair that a man who had suffered what he had suffered, and overcome what he had overcome, and saved all that he had saved had to run while all the rest of them celebrated in the sun. Tav had chased after them, an arrow of darkness in hand. It was a memory only remedied by the way Astarion had looked when Tav told them they'd gladly spend their future in the veil of night, if it meant sharing it hand in hand with him.

For as vain and dramatic as Astarion was, he kept true pains locked tight in his chest like a bird in a cage. Something from his days with Cazador that he hadn't quite been able to let go of yet - the irresistible urge to hide what could hurt him.

And if anyone understood urges, it was Tav. Hell, the word had even once been apart of their namesake - the only thing they remembered of themself. The Dark Urge.

Even so, that didn't mean coaxing that longing from Astarion's iron grip was easy. Astarion smiled, and chatted, and waxed poetic about this and that. He traveled on at Tav's side as though night were day, and nothing were the matter. But his dreams were not so immaculate at hiding the truth as he was. Tav knew Astarion dreamed of what could have been. The power to walk in the light, to enjoy mortal comforts. Tav knew it from murmured words tucked beneath the pall of weightless sleep. Jealous glances at advertisements, boasting this or that which only happened under the light of day. Bristling beneath his smiles every time they passed a closed shop or tavern. At least entering places had become easier at Tav's side - Tav could enter first, and extend a welcome after - but every other reminder was a barb. Astarion could have had it all; and despite doing the right thing, and saving the world, he was still condemned to the spiteful consequences of his bygone master.

Knowing this, Tav had begun to make a list. And today, they would address the first slight that the universe had made against their beloved.

"I have a surprise for you," they said as they came up beside Astarion as he read, lips brushing against the elf's elegant ear in a purr.

"Oh?" Astarion said, interest piqued. Were he a cat, his ears would have perked, Tav knew it. "I do so love surprises."

"I know," Tav said, punctuated by a peck to Astarion's pale cheek. "This way."

They had been in this place for some time now. Upon defeating the Absolute the one thing the universe had seen fit to bestow them with was monetary gratitude. Baldur's Gate had thanked them generously enough, and so when Tav and Astarion were not on the road looking for a cure to Astarion's affliction, they did have a simple home tucked away in the city. Slowly, over the course of the year, they had set about decorating it. Every knickknack added was another confirmation that this place was theirs. That this was home.

Astarion had a beautiful library, a proper bathroom - the little luxuries he had often bemoaned not having at the beginning of their journey to remove the tadpoles. And Tav, for their part, had carved away space of their own to finally find themselves now that they were Tav, and not the Dark Urge. Some things were new. Halsin had managed to convince them to take up whittling. Damon had even begun giving them lessons in minor armor and gear mending when they were in the city with enough time to spare.

But some things were old, such as the painting. Granted, it had once been done in blood and marrow, but the fundamentals remained. It seemed that not all of their creativity had come from Bhaal after all.

They brought Astarion to the man's bathroom. The room was perhaps larger than a bathroom should be in a home of their size, but it housed a beautiful brass tub that could fit them both, the cabinets framed with lush greenery that wrapped around bath salts and fine oils. At the bathroom's entrance, Tav was quick to cover Astarion's eyes with their hands, relishing in the surprised little noise that left the elf's throat - and even more so, relishing that Astarion trusted them, and did not pull away. If anything, the man seemed to melt back somewhat into the bracket of their arms with a chuckle.

"Should I be worried that this little surprise is in our bathroom?" Astarion asked, lips curved pleasantly. Tav kissed their neck just where the sharp jut of Astarion's jaw met the column of his lovely pale throat.

"No peeking," Tav said, smiling against Astarion's skin as they shuffled them forward and to the left. Here, above the sink, Tav had hung their present. Gently they instructed Astarion to tip his chin this way, his face that way. Told him to smile that way he did whenever Tav used to approach him in camp. All the while, they covered his eyes until finally Tav felt they had Astarion exactly where they wanted him. "Ready?"

"You know me, love, I'm always ready for a little--" Astarion's confident prattling fell away as Tav removed their hands, their gaze fastening onto Tav's surprise. The last word of the vampire's sentence fell from his lips in a hushed daze, "Drama..."

Before them hung a mirror, lovely beyond compare. It was framed in gilded gold, embossed with swirling leaves and elegant vines. The glass itself was expensive and immaculate. A large oval pool that reflected all before it. All except Astarion, of course.

That was why Tav had corrected it by hand.

With painstaking care, they had captured in the glass what reflections could not. They had painted the delicate veil of Astarion's lashes, and the way those lashes framed two large, clever eyes. The bow of the man's smart mouth, the creamy milk of his skin, the tender curls of his hair - it was all there, exactly matching the way Tav had adjusted their stance before the mirror. And with the mirror otherwise untouched except for where Tav had painted, it showed them as well. Tav was careful with where they put their face. Pressed to Astarion's cheek, they appeared in the mirror to nuzzle the painting as well.

Astarion took in a soft, broken little inhale.

"That's me," he breathed. Fragile in a way he had only ever allowed Tav to see.

"That's you," Tav confirmed, pressing a kiss to Astarion's neck, just at his jaw.

"I... gods above, it's been so long."

Tav let the man take it in. For as boisterous and flamboyant as their vampire was, when it mattered Astarion tended to absorb things in silence. Tav just nuzzled their cheek gently, drinking in every little breath, every sweeping dart of Astarion's gaze. The elf's hands rose to cover Tav's where they sat wrapped around Astarion's middle. Those pale fingers squeezed gently.

"That night in camp," Astarion finally said, head turned somewhat toward Tav to return their affection, foreheads brushing. "When you offered to describe me... It was silly, but I was... grateful."

"You say that like it's a great burden to compliment you," Tav said with a soft chuckle, "It was the least I could do."

"It was more than most," Astarion said, voice a bit blank in that way it sometimes did when the past leeched away his strength to shine despite it. "Everything you said, it was all quite flattering of course, but this... Tav..."

"Do you like it?" Tav asked. When Astarion did not immediately answer, Tav felt the first sliver of doubt begin to crawl insidiously in their gut.

But finally Astarion let out a short, broken bark of a laugh and said wetly, "It feels a bit vain to say I love it when it's fully a portrait of me that I'm looking at, but hell, when has that ever stopped me before? Of course I love it. And not just it..." He turned in the curl of Tav's arms - even though, for a moment he seemed loathe to turn his back on his reflection, as though it might disappear at any moment like some fever dream.

Astarion looked into their eyes, and Tav recognized the gentle awe they saw in that face. It was the same awe Tav had seen every time Astarion had looked into the sun - rising or setting - back with their minds were still occupying (mostly) unwanted passengers. Astarion was looking at Tav like they were something remarkable and rare, like something he hadn't seen in 200 years.

"You gave me more than a portrait," Astarion finally said. "You gave me my reflection back."

When Astarion curled a palm to fit the jut of Tav's jaw, Tav rose to cover that hand with their own as well. They brought that cupped palm down, eyes on Astarion all the while when they met pale skin with chapped lips - something Astarion would no doubt harass them about later. But for now, Astarion merely melted beneath the attention.

"I promised you a cure," Tav said, lips brushing Astarion's palm, "Think of this as a down payment."

Astarion let out another surprised little breath of a laugh and said, "I never doubted you, but this? This..." Then, a little smile. The echo of words shared once, twice - now thrice, each fonder than the last time it had been said. "This is a gift, you know. I will not forget it."

And he never did.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 durge #bg3 dark urge #durge x astarion

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bearsbeetsbeskar · 11 months

Text

weed smoking! joel x dispensary shop! reader preview 🍃🔥💨💨💨

A/N: A little taste for you guys! I am very excited at this new idea, especially because I am co-writing this with the actual love of my life @serenaxpedro!!!

So excited to see where it will go and excited to see our grumpy old peepaw finally kick back and relax with some alternate pain management methods. He's not gonna be happy about it at first, but it's going to turn out so good 🤓. Moodboard art also by @serenaxpedro (please go check out her delicious writing as well, she's got some YUMMY Joel fic's posted 🫠)

sneak peak under the cut, feel free to comment or reblog if you want more!

“The side effects from an over the counter painkiller could spike your cholesterol even higher, which is what we do not want,” the doctor continues, unaware of Joel’s steadily boiling frustration. “Which is why I wanted to suggest an alternate method for pain management, something more natural.”

For fucks sake.

He thought this would be a simple appointment. Show up, get a new prescription for whatever magic pills can help this pain in his back to dissipate, and go home. Not look into ‘alternative methods’ that undoubtedly wouldn’t work.

Joel’s gaze narrows and he huffs, leaning back in his seat. “Natural? Like what, seeing one of those hokey practitioners that read your energies and use natural herb remedies and all that crap?”

“Not quite that per say but it is natural medicine. Medical marijuana to be exact.”

Joel’s mouth goes dry as his jaw hangs open. Weed? Nope. Not the solution he was looking for.

Maybe what he should be on the market for is a new doctor at this point.

“Uh listen, I appreciate the suggestion doc, but I don’t think that’s gonna help me at this point. I don’t do that kinda stuff,” he waves his hand dismissively. “If it gets to that point I’ll crack open a beer.” Joel leans forward in his seat and he starts to get up.

“Just a second, hold on. At least let me write you a prescription for it today and you can choose whether or not you want to get it filled at a dispensary.”

“I don’t think-” Joel continues to protest but the doctor cuts him off.

“It’s medicinal marijuana Joel,” the doctor says plainly, as if that’s supposed to calm his nerves. “It has opiate-like properties, which means it’s similar to a pain killer, just without all the usual side effects that come with over the counter medicine. Lots of individuals, older and younger,” the doctor pointedly emphasizes, “use it to help with aches, pain, anxiety, even mental health issues. Not just the physical.”

Joel continues to eye the doctor warily, his spine now stiff as he sits up in the chair. Even now, he can feel his body protesting his upright position, the inkling of that pinched phantom pain coming back slightly.

“Does it get you high?” he asks the older man.

Aside from the stories he’s heard, he’s had his fair share of buddies who used to toke up back in the day. Hell, they didn’t even know what was in it back then, they just smoked as a distraction, something fun to do, to take the edge off after a long day's work. Joel tried it once and didn’t like it at all. The hazy, fuzzy feeling not mixing well with his frayed nerves, all glassy eyed and out of touch with his body and his mind. No, he would much rather crack open a beer or pour himself a whiskey neat to kick back and relax when he was stressed.

“Not necessarily, some strains, or some kinds of weed have a higher content of THC, tetrahydrocannabinol, the psychoactive component that makes you feel high or ‘out of it,”’ the doctor explains with finger quotes. “Some medicinal marijuana are low in THC but high in CBD, the relaxing component of marijuana. CBD acts as a relaxer, and it can ease physical pain. So depending on what you’re comfortable with, you can opt for the kinds that have a high CBD but low THC content, which will help with any pain issues, without causing you to experience the high.”

Joel’s mind whirls around the acronyms. THC, CBD, ABC.

Christ.

Does it have to be this fucking complicated?

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfiction

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goldenempyrean · 18 days

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do you have any sick/snz headcanons for marina? if so, what are they? 💕

Anon my dear, this was such a lovely little ask! Super cute, I wrote quite a few so they’re beneath the cut but honestly I could babble on about these two for hours <3

Some Carina Headcanons

I feel like she’s the more likely of the two to get sick, mainly due to working in a hospital.

Despite feeling miserable, Carina becomes extra affectionate when she’s sick. She craves physical touch even if she hates the idea of getting Maya sick. So she’ll pretend to be stubborn about it but is secretly looking for the first chance to cuddle up her.

She’s similar to Maya in the sense she can be stubborn about being sent from work home sick - normally she’ll hide up in her office wanting to just power through and finish her day.

However if she’s sick and already at home then it’s a little easier to get her to call in.

When she finally gives in to rest, Carina loves being surrounded by cosy blankets and pillows. She’ll watch Italian films or listen to music from home to comfort herself.

When Carina catches a cold, she tends to have a very runny nose and frequent sneezing fits. Plus she either sneezes all cutesy and quiet or loud and harsh. There’s no inbetween with her.

She’ll try to stifle too, especially around others, even if she tells Maya that its bad for her when she does it.

It’s a little obvious whenever she doesn’t feel quiet herself because Carina goes quiet, both at work and at home. She’s a little more reserved and it’s obvious something’s up.

Carina definitely uses traditional Italian remedies when herself of Maya is sick. Personally she drinks lots of herbal teas with honey and lemon.

Continuing from that, she’s very pro-comfort food when people are sick and loves to cook or order in something that will make them feel better.

She also tends to take on a thicker accent whenever she’s not quite feeling 100% or when she is worried about Maya.

*^*^

Some Maya Headcanons

Maya is stubborn, we all know it. She’ll almost never come home or stay off work by her own choice. She is either sent home by her boss or Carina has had to try and convince her.

At the start of their relationship, Maya found something like sickness to be a burden and would (and still does but not as much) try to hide it from Carina.

She’s still not used to being looked after so unless she’s completely exhausted it takes her a while to settle into it.

However she seems to naturally know what Carina needs whenever she’s sick despite her being the only person she’s ever looked after before.

Maya usually never naps. Even at work she isn’t one to go and take a nap mid day so if she does, it’s a clear sign that something is up.

Maya’s illnesses tend to affect her throat/chest more than anything due to her job and the impacts of smoke inhalation over the years but if it is affecting her sinuses, she often will just sit near a tissue box or just shove a load into every pocket because she ends up going through tons of them.

She just tends to go quiet - Like Carina does. Especially at home where she’s usually chatty. If her throat hurts she’ll just sit quietly instead, reading a book silently instead of muttering the words under her breath.

I also feel like she forgets the basic tasks when she’s sick. She’ll do the normal stuff like forgetting to eat, drink ect but also small things like charging her phone or picking up groceries.

Secretly she loves showering/baths when she’s under the weather because she knows Carina will be extra gentle and often massage her head when she washes her hair for her.

#sickfic #carina deluca #maya bishop #snz #station 19 #marina #whump #headcanons

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lassieposting · 1 year

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not to get all emotional about notw again but one thing i love about the single parent vesemir dynamic is that the kaer morons would end up having a completely different training experience to basically every generation of witchers that came before them.

like. netflix!vesemir seems to grow up towards the end of the golden age of witchering. for him personally, witchering seems to still be a lucrative profession - he makes a very robust living, and he can afford to live in the lap of luxury in his off-hours, but he does also admit that he's built his brand on taking only the most dangerous contracts, which will bring in the most money. deglan, however, complains that he's "down two dozen witchers" in one year because they're struggling enough to take employment elsewhere, as sellswords or criminals. he's down enough manpower that he forces ves, his golden child, to join in with training the baby witchers - a chore he's spent most of his adult life skiving with zero consequences. so like. they're not doing great, overall.

but when vesemir was training, there were still plenty of witchers at kaer morhen, with a tried-and-true system for teaching youngsters. he probably would have had a mixture of academic classes (the three Rs, history, politics, languages, maybe some law? everything he'd need to keep out of trouble in various kingdoms once he's on the path), and then both theory and practical classes for things like alchemy, weapons training, monster lore, etc. there's lots of time spent poring over old bestiaries and potion recipes, lots of rote memorisation, before he's ever allowed to try anything out for himself.

(he's old for a newbie - twelve or thirteen and with zero fighting experience - so he's actually in some remedial classes as a kid. he's in the same group as Luka and Sven, both a few years younger, for all his fighting skills, because he's got a lot of catching up to do. at some point, once he's shown enough promise to impress, deglan gets personally involved in his training, gives him extra lessons, etc. It works out for him - he's a fast learner with a natural talent.)

but at the end of notw, kaer morhen is a smoking ruin, and vesemir and the four surviving baby witchers are? basically on the run. they wouldn't be able to go straight home; the humans are still riled up, and there's no way to know that they won't come back to finish the job if they realise some of the witchers survived. ves is an unparalleled fighter, but he's only one man. they'd swarm him, get around him and kill the boys easily. he'd have to give them time to calm down and lose the thirst for mutant blood before even considering bringing the last hope of the wolf school back into potential danger. so they'd be on the road for? quite possibly a long while.

so the kaer morons don't have access to the massive library at kaer morhen during that time. they don't have a bunch of trainers who've become highly educated experts in their respective fields. all they've got is vesemir. and while he's got a working knowledge of all the things a witcher needs to know, he's only an expert in one field, and that's fighting. he's also still got to work to support them, so the amount of time he can actually spend tutoring is, well, limited. they have to learn on the fly, often by trial and error.

they learn what happens when a witcher overdoses on potions the hard way: watching the fallout of vesemir actually doing it to survive a fight. he's sick as a dog for days, heaving like he's trying to bring up his own innards long after there's nothing left in his belly. they're young, but they know witchers aren't supposed to get sick, and it's horrifying for them. they're not entirely sure exactly why he reacted that badly - not like the long lecture on biology that vesemir got when he was in training - but they sure as shit know they don't want it to happen to them.

they learn healing the same way - by the seat of their fucking pants, more often than not. vesemir uses himself as a practical example, because he's never been all that spectacular at the theory side of things - when he's taking post-battle healing potions, he'll explain which ones he's using and why, or if he has a small injury he'll use it as an opportunity to demonstrate how to properly stitch or cauterise a wound. he's grouchy and short-tempered a lot of the time, sore and tired and with a hundred paces he'd rather be than airing his scars to fascinated and grossed-out little boys, but he does his best, because this, this practical shit, this he can do. they'll need this knowledge, eventually. but there are also times where he comes home on the verge of collapse, using the wall to stay upright and struggling to get out of his armour before keeling over into bed, and they have to learn to keep calm and put that new knowledge into practice independently and fix him up themselves.

eskel learns igni early, long before they're sent to nenneke, because sometimes the fire goes out while vesemir is off hunting or scouting or taking a moment to go out of earshot and grieve in fucking peace, and if he doesn't figure out how to relight it, his little brothers will be cold. he's seen ves do it. he knows how to make the sign, more or less. he just figures it out, trying to replicate what vesemir does until it works. he's naturally inclined towards magic, which is probably why it works for him, but he still works it out by himself.

geralt picks flowers for vesemir when they're on the move, between villages. he knows ves is struggling with balancing everything, and he thinks he recognises plants that he's seen in vesemir's alchemy kit, the ones he makes potions out of. he collects as many he recognises as possible, and when vesemir is stabling the horse at the next inn, geralt tugs his sleeve and hands them over. some of them are useful. some of them are useless, and some of them are poison. ves gets down on geralt's level and shows him how to spot the differences between this white flower and that white flower, and geralt gradually brings him fewer things that would probably make him sick.

lambert doesn't initially learn to fight in a safe, structured class with padded armour and a little wooden practice sword like ves did. he learns to fight by picking fights with eskel and geralt, both a few years older, and getting his arse handed to him, until he figures out how to use their bigger size and greater strength against them. by the time they get back to kaer morhen and vesemir has somewhere safe to actually do some proper training, lambert has already become pretty adept at just…getting out of the way of whatever is trying to hit him.

vesemir gets them all little daggers, for when he's not around to protect them - live steel, a big responsibility for a small child. remus watches how vesemir looks after his gear after a hunt and starts to copy him. vesemir oils his sword, remus oils his dagger. vesemir checks his armour for damage or wear and tear, remus checks his clothes for the same. he'll come sit by ves and just. copy him. eventually vesemir starts showing him how to mend a tear in a gambeson courtesy of the business end of a forktail, and he'll matter-of-factly rip a side seam out of a spare shirt so remus can practice fixing something that ves doesn't have to wear into battle again anytime soon.

just? baby witchers who get back to kaer morhen eventually and start their training proper, only to realise that they've learned a bunch of this shit out of order already just from living on the road with vesemir for a year or two, having to see the really ugly side of his job, and trying to make his life easier. witchering 101 baptism of fire edition for all of them

#the witcher #the witcher headcanons #netflix witcher #nightmare of the wolf #kaer morons #vesemir #dad!vesemir #i am having so much fun in the kiddie pool that is notw

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perxywonderland · 11 months

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Coffee in the morning

During a lit party at the wet wick, you encountered Willow, a faery shopkeeper, occultist, curse and cures seeker and giver who can potentially help you and Leander for your hands. She came out as very cold and intimidating, so you decided to stay near your friends for the rest of the night. The morning came, and you meet her again with a cup of coffee, and it turns out she is not as scary as you thought.

Ship: not really any shipping Characters: Willow, MC/you, Leander Details: No TW, you both chat like you did with the other LIs, you ask about the others, and get to know her too.

At dawn, the Wet Wick was nothing like the evening before. It was remarkably silent and almost empty. Of course, there were a few inebriated patrons at some seats, but most of them had left, probably to go home. After I woke up, very drowsy, I tiptoed my way downstairs and prepared myself a simple glass of water at the bar to start the day well after a night of “having a few too many drinks”. A few minutes after I had downed a big glass of fresh water, there was the low clacking of heels on the stairs, and there a sleepy face crowned with ashy-purple, messy lamb-braids emerged. Willow, who had been there the night before, seemed like she had slept there. Her eyes locked on me, and then drifted to the almost inanimate bodies around; a quiet chuckle escaped from her smiling lips as her eyes went back to me. ”Wow, those guys will probably crawl to Kuras for pain-relief medicine, their hangover seems real hard.”

She resumed her way to the bar, searching for something under it. She seemed to have found out what she wanted by a satisfied “Nice”. She placed a black powder in a container, an empty clean mug and a kettle on the bar. Seeing my puzzled look, Willow lifted a finger at me, probably a sign to say “give me a minute, I’ll be right back, you’ll understand” before leaving for the backroom with the kettle. But she quickly emerged at the door of the backroom joining with the main one.

“Do you want some? Or like tea or anything like that?”

I looked back at the black powder in the sealed pot. I didn’t even know what it was.

“What’s this?”

“Remedy for everything.”

This powder was even more mysterious to me. I just shrugged and said,

“why not?”

Willow left again for a few minutes. The slender monster came back with another mug and the kettle, filled another big container with the black powder, and poured the warm water from the kettle on it. I watched the process, curiously; it seemed like tea, but I had never seen this fine powder before. Lost in her thoughts, she let out a hum escape from her lips, and looked at me again. She went back under the bar to bring spoons, sugar, and milk this time. “You might want to try it black first.” “I don’t even know what it is, honestly.”

Willow poured the liquid into the mugs, in the blue one, she almost overflowed it, in another, a white one she filled it a third of the way. Gently, she offered me the second mug with both hands.

“Careful, it’s hot, but divine”

“Thank you”

I replied before a roasted, nutty, smoky, but flowery smell tickled my nose; it was the stream of hot smoke from that mysterious brownish-black liquid.

Willow settled next to me on the stool beside me and took a chug of her own mug, eyes closed. Satisfied, she balanced a little from left to right with a smile.

I gave it a try myself. Despite how warm it was, I could sense all the flavours. It was quite strong, a little bitter, however, it was still floral, which was perplexing as I hadn’t seen any flower in the jar. Willow broke the silence. “This is coffee; it is made from ground roasted seeds from a cherry-like plant. You can make it sweeter and softer with milk and sugar, if you want.”

“How is it a remedy to everything? Does Kuras use it as a medicine?”

“Oh, it wasn’t literal, but it helps a bunch with all nighters, avoiding a nap, hangovers” Her eyes rolled to the unconscious and drunk patrons.

“It was our remedy with Leander to stay up all night for work.”

I perked up at the sound of this familiar name that I quite liked. It reminded me I hadn’t had the chance to talk much to Willow, and ask about the others. We had briefly met thanks to Leander. All I knew about her was that she was a shopkeeper, she might be able to assist both me and Leander, and that she was a monster, but by her atypical skin, it was noticeable already. “Leander? You both were coworkers? Were you a Bloodhound?”

I picked up her curiosity too, and she couldn’t help but give me a surprised look. “What makes you think I was?”

“Well, you said you both were working together in the past.”

Willow took a sip of her own mug before answering my question.

“Before he created the bloodhounds, we worked together.”

“If it’s not too much to ask; what both of you were before your current respective jobs, I am just curious.”

For a few seconds, she picked carefully her words while looking away, thoughtful. Her gaze was a little colder; it doesn’t seem to be fond memories.

“Students, interns.”

It automatically reminded me of the students me and Mhin saw a night or two before. Imagining Willow and Leander in those pristine uniforms was quite hard to be fair. We have been in this birdcage, we are the best to tell you not to go in there.”

I concluded from that remark that Willow wasn’t fond of the Senobium either. Because of this new information, I couldn’t help myself but ask more about Leander.

“Leander, how was he back then?”

“You got a liking for him?” “Who doesn’t, really.”

“He creeped me out…”

My brows raised, very surprised.

“... Who likes public speech? It’s the worst, he did all the public speeches and presentations for our teamwork.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“He seems to like the attention, giving shows and such.”

“Some people are only good for the backstage work, while some others are only good for presenting the backstage work, but Leander is capable of both, he is a good mage and a good talker. He has charisma and diplomacy too. Senobium liked him a bunch, though it wasn't mutual feelings. ”

She stopped to take a sip of her coffee mug.

“However he is quite competitive, he tried to take my place in the ranking. He came in as quickly as he went out, just like me. At first sight, he looked like a slacker to me, he always talked to others and slept during lectures. But it turned out he was more of a night owl than an early bird.” From what the monster said, it looked more like hate and rivalry than friendship…

“After I’ve quit the Senobium I worked as an assistant for Kuras, Leander took care of deliveries and carrying injured people as well as magic healing while finishing his last year at the academy, then we both had our paths, me with my shop and services, and him with his bloodhounds and his other services. He works hard for his dream, I admire that. Leander has always been hardworking, but he parties even harder. If you can pin him to bed, that would be lovely.”

A sudden blush coloured my cheeks, but I reminded myself what Leander said about Willow, to take things literally with her, she must have meant there to force him to sleep, rather than any carnal desires. By my look, she seemed to have understood it could have a hidden sense. And affirmed what I thought.

“Ah, sorry, it might have some weird implicit side meaning. I meant that he should sleep more, his eyebags scream he needs some rest.”

“You said you arrived after Leander, you’re not from Eridia?” “Not a native I am afraid.” “Where are you from?”

“Curious one are you? That is an information I keep confidential.”

I looked down at my now-empty mug after taking another sip. Since I had met Willow, it had been hard to not notice the slight accent in her voice, and sometimes I could hear another language I didn’t know between her and Ais, with Ais being a little slower though.

“That is understandable. Coffee is good by the way. I feel more… energized?” “Good to hear. Serve yourself if you want more; there are plenty.”

I refilled my mug again and tried some of what Willow had settled on the bar in my coffee. It was definitely sweeter.

“So, you and Leander, you both were a nemesis to each other or something like that?”

“At first, from my point of view, yes. For Leander, he hardly ever considers anyone as enemies, not even Vere, who is very generous in insulting Leander. I realized later he was actually trying to befriend me and not sabotage me, so we became friends, then teammates, then a bit more.”

I gave a satisfied hum. That was an interesting answer. I changed the topic to another person I was curious about.

“How about Kuras, you guys seem close.”

Willow perked up with a grin.

“How was he for you?”

“Well, quite cold, lecturing even but in a kind way.”

“He is a very pedagogical, good, and wise doctor. I was one of his interns. I help him at the clinic sometimes with Ais. But he can be very distant, yes, especially if you’re difficult. It takes a lot of time to get closer to him.”

A faint golden blush coloured her cheeks; she definitely seemed fond of him, admired him.

“You somehow look like him.”

Willow raised an eyebrow, surprised and puzzled.

“I mean, the cold and distant, almost intimidating aura.”

“I learnt from him after all, but our personalities are a little similar, yes.”

It automatically reminded me of how Mhin was more ‘friendly’ to Willow. On a scale, I noticed Mhin would be aggressive with Vere and Ais. With Leander, they would be neutral, and above it would be Kuras, with a friendlier behaviour. Willow seemed to be a little above Leander, but it is not quite rigid, as if something blocked, maybe because of Willow's monstrous origins; they might be wary, not taking their guard off.

“Mhin seems quite okay around you despite you being a monster. That is interesting.”

Willow rolled her eyes away from me, a little pensive with a slight discomfort. “Well, you are right, but you are also wrong. They hate monsters, They treat us all the same way. However, there is a slight distinction for benevolent, also called seelie and malevolent ones, called unseelie.”

She lifted both her index fingers to me, symbolizing the two types.

“I am a faery, I am on the malevolent side, I do take pleasure in scaring humans and tricking them.”

She lifted her left index a little more than the other, signifying the malevolent side.

“However, let’s say I got calmer, I still am malevolent, I still quite dislike humans but I am nice to the people I like, no matter their species. Mhin is one of them.”

She lifted her other index, signifying the benevolent side.

“But because I am an unseelie fae by nature, that’s incoherent for them, they think I am playing with them as if they were my prey, tricking them into honeyed actions and words.”

“And do you?”

“I take no pleasure in hurting my closed ones. It is funnier to destroy my enemies. Ah; and I am vegetarian. So it is easier for me to get closer to them I guess compared to Ais, for example. I try to make them know each other better, but Ais gets bad impressions really easily. But being unseelie doesn’t always mean we do wrong, give curses and such, we can give blessings, good omens, and attract good fortune. I give good fortune and success to every farmer giving me things at Samhain. See it as common respect; you respect me, I respect you. You hurt me, I destroy you.”

She said this simply as if it was basic additions, no matter how threatening it should be. Her tone was very normal but her eyes gave me warnings, her orbs seemed to absorb all the light, only surrounding us in darkness, that seems to be a common thing with monsters, I felt the same with Ais at the Sea Springs. It’s scary. And I have never heard of vegetarian faeries before; I thought they were all carnivorous, but if she, as a fae, says it, it might be true. Speaking of Ais, I wanted to ask about him, so I carefully picked my words.

“You mentioned Ais. Are you and Ais friends too?”

She gave me a nod as an answer.. The heavy atmosphere lifted up.

“He seems quite brutal.”

“And so am I. But he means good; he doesn’t only talk with fists though, trust me. He is interesting to talk to, you should give it a try. He might not look smart at first sight, but he really is.”

“Well, He did talk to me a night ago or so. He is annoying, always testing, even more with Vere around.”

“Obviously. He likes to tease, and being teased back. He is even more playful around people with a shitty, moody attitude, so he might have gotten a liking to you.”

“That is an unusual way to show it then… But I think I do not mind. However, you don’t seem brutal, actually, for me you first appeared collected but scary, intimidating even… But do not take it badly!- It's mysterious and appealing to me.” “You’re quite odd yourself, but not the bad way, the fascinating way, you’re not boring, I hate boring people.”

Willow’s eyes locked on mine with starvation, but it was much more a thirst for knowledge about me than food or drinking all the blood out of me. She seemed to want to know more about me, quite unusual to me. I always thought I was repulsive because of my curse. Feeling authentic interest in me surprised me more about Eridia; it really attracted the most unique people.

“I do not know what to say, thank you I guess? Oh, and how about Vere?” “Vere? Our relation? Mh, it’s bittersweet. Two strong tempers with brutal authenticity do not get along most of the time. But we try to get along for Ais’ sake. But there are things I cannot let pass, like when he says a bunch of nonsense about Kuras and Leander. He is right that Leander can be a little slimy, and clingy. But the rest? Bullshit.”

“Are you both talking about me? I hope it’s no ill.”

I see a sleepy face emerging from the stairs with hair hiding the eyes like curtains, quickly brushed away to reveal emerald eyes. Leander’s woken up. A little anxious he might have overheard what Willow was saying; I got even scared when she simply answered him:

“I was saying to MC you were slimy, clingy, attention starving.”

Leander released a low chuckle, not surprised, not taking it badly; he joined us at the bar to prepare himself coffee too.

“Well the usual from you, brutal honesty, good morning Willow deer! Morning MC!”

I am not sure whether I heard it well or not, but it sounded more like “deer” than “dear”, I brushed it away when I got implied in the discussion.

“Top of the morning, Leander.”

“Morning, Leander, I was learning a bit more about Eridia and the others, and, well, you too. You do like the attention you can get, like for your shows.”

He had his usual smile, and wrapped both arms around each of our shoulders, keeping us closer.“I like to perform tricks for others. Making their head turn for magnificent things magic can do. It can cheer some people’s day!”

“You do like to turn a lot of heads for sure. Speaking of turning heads, the human head can be twisted around about three and a half times before coming off.”

I froze at the fact, that is what Leander meant when Willow had quite questioning knowledge, like you wouldn’t know ‘how’ or ‘why’ she knew that. By my reaction, Leander realised that it might have been too much for me; Willow seemed not very capable of reading my reaction, by her still look. Social cues and reading emotions on faces weren’t her best. He ruffled Willow’s hair with his hand, which was caught by one of hers in a few seconds.

“... Too macabre for the morning, Willow.”

“My bad. Here is a cuter one: a couple of homosexual and monoparental birds can adopt left-behind eggs.” “Better.”

Willow nodded a ‘thank you’ with a slight smile for Leander's help. His eyes drifted back to me, and with his radiant smile plastered on his face.

“How did you sleep, MC?”

“Honestly? Quite well, despite the noise? The bed was very comfy”

“Good to hear! Stay as long as you like!”

Willow might have felt that she had enough touch; as she dodged his arm to get free.

Leander looked around to see if he had any other familiar faces. He brought the full coffee cup to what seemed to be one of his bloodhounds suffering from hangover at a booth. After placing the cup next to them, he patted their shoulder and joined us again for another mug.

“Last night was lit, I might get a bruise from the wrestling.”

Leander pointed out at his forearm, it definitely was bruised and a yellowish-black ecchymose.

Willow stared at it and took another sip of her coffee after replying. “So do I.” She lifted one arm away from her jacket, revealing a bruised shoulder. The yellow-tinted skin makes the bruise more brownish-black.

“Was there another fight?”

I worriedly asked. But Leander quickly reassured me, waving both his hands at me. “Oh no, not at all! We hold wrestling contests for fun on the first Friday of the month. Wet wick’s owner doesn’t want it more than once a month. Other Fridays we do only arm wrestling.”

Looking at Willow’s slim anatomy, I expected more bruises on her. She did notice me analysing her, but she looked a little annoyed about it. I might not have been the first person to think that. Leander caught my attention again. “You should take part next time!”

“Well… I would love to try, but…”

I lifted my bandaged hands to him, reminding him of the curse. “Sorry, Leander is a dummy, but it’s nothing new”

Willow teased Leander, apologising him for his clumsiness, to which Leander replies with a bashful laugh and a blush tinting his cheeks, nose and ears. “But I will definitely join in later!... When this thing is away.”

Willow rested her head on the back of her hand, looking thoughtful at my hands fidgeting.

“Your curse, it reminded me of an old friend’s curse. But his curse was in his whole body, inner and outer body. He was made of Mercury. Touching mercury is deadly, it causes poisoning, and it’s hard to get it out of the body. In summary, he couldn’t touch anyone without thick gloves, like you with your bandages.”

Progressively, her gaze became colder, emptier, absent. But I felt hopeful for maybe a solution. “Has he gotten a cure from his curse?”

Willow’s long spike shaped lashes rose up as her orbs looked up back at me, still with that absent, empty stare, with a slight taint of melancholy.

“His time ran out.”

At this moment, I could see her poker face mask shattering a little. And at the corner of my eyes, Leander didn’t seem very happy either. But with the atmosphere, I conclude it’s not a good idea to dig deeper for clues and information.

Willow blinked and moved to a straighter position, changing the topic.

“But I can still search for a cure for it. There are no curses that I didn't find a cure for, even for immortality. And unanswered questions frustrates me. I want an answer to my “What could cure MC?” question. Willow rose from her stool, finished her mug and got ready to leave. “With that, I wish you both a good day. Ah and MC, my shop is called the Spark, you can find it at the end of the Amaryllis District near Hightown. If you are lost, you can always ask Leander, he is so serviable and pliant, like a good dog.” She teased Leander again. Before waving and leaving through the door. Light from the sunrise flooded the room instantly. Willow hissed and protected her eyes from the sun. Leander joked back.“Well, it’s 10am after all.” “I hate that stupid sun.” Willow said annoyed before walking away near a wall hiding from the sun. The room darkened again, and I was now with Leander alone.

#perxywonderland #red spring studio #leander #willow #touchstarved oc #touchstarved leander #touchstarved mc #leander touchstarved #ts leander

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suzieb-fit · 2 months

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I wasn't going to bother with my usual fast from finishing dinner last night. I was having an impromptu "free day", after things got in the way of my normal routine.

I definitely stuck to that freedom in terms of macro's, etc. But not to a big extent. I was full after dinner, so thought it was stupid to eat later on purpose. So my timer went on. Actually ended up with an extra half hour fast, lol.

Anyway, it was such a beautiful morning.

Early walk, home workout then apple and nuts with my frothy collagen coffee for breakfast.

Almost immediately after that, I headed out on the bike for the 45 minte round trip to go collect my next month's supply of nasal spray from the chemist. Don't know why I'm still using it. I'm not seeing any noticable benefits. But I'll use this next lot. Just waiting for my homeopath to send my "remedy", whatever that might be.

I made my first real caffeine hit when I got back home. Had another dose of nuts 😜. Then decided on an impromptu HIIT workout for my YouTube channel.

Sardines for lunch straight after. Added some smoked cheese. Yes, it's a processed food, but my diet is otherwise excellent so I can easily and happily justify a few things that are less than perfect. Pretty much every single food item we buy is processed to some degree, but cheese isn't quite the same level as a microwave ready-meal or a Mcdonalds meal deal 😅.

Bit of a chill after that, before ending a very active day with some much needed yoga.

I will do another section of my diabetes coursework after dinner. I'm doing well time-wise with that. I just hope I pass first time, once I send it all in!

So today has been a very good one. Always a bonus to get all my health boxes ticked ✔️😊👍

#fitspo #fitspiration #fitblr #fitness #healthy living #health and fitness #fit #workout #fiton #suzieb-fit #homeopathy #hormonal imbalance

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manjitkaur · 4 months

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Best Home Remedies for Heart Disease

Home remedies are suggested to manage irregular chest pain caused by digestive issues or muscle tension. Accurate heart pain may be caused by angina, a serious condition that ensues when blood flow is reduced to your heart. If you’re experiencing heart pain and you’ve been diagnosed with angina, take any treatment medications as instructed by your doctor.

The following changes can help anyone who wants to improve heart health:

1. Quit smoking: Quitting smoking is hard. But you know that it's important to quit, and one of the most significant reasons is that it's linked to heart illness.

2. Maintain a healthy weight: Obesity raises your risk of heart disease, specifically as you approach middle age.

3. Manage stress: Ongoing stress can play a role in higher blood pressure and other risk factors for heart disease.

4. Garlic: Has a strong smell, yet it can elevate the taste of your dishes. It also helps in heart attack prevention.

5. Regular exercise: Helps make your heart stronger and more efficient at pumping blood, which lowers the pressure in your arteries.

6. Control your Blood Pressure: Control your blood pressure and cholesterol levels. If one or both of these are high, your doctor can specify changes to your diet and medications.

https://bit.ly/4bCRj7L

#Ayurvedic Treatment for artery Disease #home remedies for coronary artery disease

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ryuzakemo128 · 1 year

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Peaky Blinders Headcanons

Pairing: Red x Alfie Solomons

Genre: Fluff

Masterlist: List

Alfie Taking care of Red when she is unwell Headcanons

Red Sick/ unwell Headcanons:

When Red gets sick with the flu, food poisoning, or a simple cold, she experiences some unique symptoms. Despite not being a smoker herself, her cough sounds like that of a heavy smoker. This peculiar symptom has often surprised and amused her friends, who find it ironic given her non-smoking habits. Red's fever also tends to spike quite high, leaving her feeling flushed and overheated. Alfie, being familiar with Red's unique symptoms, often teases her about her "smoker's cough" during her illness, but he also takes care of her and makes sure she has everything she needs to recover.

During the first stages of her illness, Red prefers to stay in either her bedroom or her small office. She doesn't like being idle and enjoys keeping herself busy even when she's unwell. She spends her time catching up on paperwork, organizing business plans, and drinking larger amounts of herbal tea to soothe her symptoms. Alfie, being the attentive partner that he is, checks in on her regularly, bringing her herbal tea and offering assistance with her work if needed.

Despite Red's preference for staying busy while she's ill, she also understands the importance of rest and taking care of herself. She spends most of her time in either her bedroom or her small office, but she makes sure to take breaks and rest when her symptoms become more severe. She drinks plenty of water to stay hydrated and soothe her throat, often adding slices of lemon or ginger to provide some relief. Alfie, being concerned for Red's well-being, reminds her to rest and takes care of any tasks she would normally handle until she recovers.

Although Red is a responsible and diligent businesswoman, she tends to get sick more often than Alfie. Perhaps it's due to her dedication to her work and the stress that comes with it. Despite regular visits to the doctor, she sometimes falls victim to common illnesses. Alfie, who has a more robust immune system, finds it both amusing and concerning that Red gets sick more frequently. He jokes about her susceptibility to illness but also takes on a caretaker role, ensuring she has everything she needs and reminding her to take better care of herself to avoid future illnesses.

As Red's illness progresses, her symptoms worsen, and she becomes more fatigued. She finds it difficult to concentrate on her work and often experiences bouts of dizziness and headaches. Alfie notices these changes and becomes more attentive, taking on a more nurturing role. He encourages Red to take breaks and rest, insisting that she prioritize her health over work.

When Red is feeling under the weather, Galina, her trusted associate, steps in to handle her responsibilities for the day. Galina is familiar with Red's work and can efficiently manage tasks in her absence. She keeps Red updated on any important developments and ensures that everything runs smoothly in her absence. Galina's presence provides Red with peace of mind, knowing that her business is in capable hands while she focuses on recuperating. Alfie appreciates Galina's dedication and willingness to assist, as it allows Red to prioritize her health without worrying about the business suffering in her absence.

Red wears a bed jacket to bed, along with flannel nightgowns underneath and a pair of socks. Like she would when she was still in Russia. Despite her not living in Russia anymore, she still wears a lot of the more traditional Russian clothing, which includes cozy and warm nightwear. She finds comfort in the familiarity of these garments, and they provide her with a sense of home during times of illness. Alfie finds it endearing and often jokes about her "Russian fashion show" before tucking her into bed, ensuring she's snug and comfortable.

To help alleviate Red's symptoms, Alfie prepares various homemade remedies that he learned from his own experiences with illness and from his eclectic knowledge. He creates soothing herbal teas with ingredients like chamomile, mint, and honey to help ease Red's cough and sore throat. He also prepares warm soups and stews, adding spices and herbs known for their healing properties. Alfie takes pride in his culinary skills, and seeing Red's face light up when she tastes his creations brings him joy.

When Red is really unwell:

If Red is really sick and her condition becomes more serious, Alfie becomes even more attentive and concerned. He recognizes the severity of the situation and takes immediate action to ensure she receives proper medical care. He arranges for a doctor to visit their home and monitors Red's symptoms closely. Alfie stays by her side, offering comfort and support throughout her illness.

During Red's more serious illness, Alfie takes on a caretaker role, making sure she is comfortable and well-cared for. He arranges for a cozy spot for her in the living room or bedroom, surrounding her with blankets, pillows, and anything else she may need. He sits beside her, holding her hand or gently stroking her hair, providing a comforting presence during her moments of discomfort. Alfie also keeps track of her medication schedule, ensuring she takes her prescribed medications on time and in the correct dosage.

Alfie communicates with Red's doctor and follows their instructions carefully. He asks questions to clarify any concerns or doubts he may have, making sure he fully understands Red's condition and the necessary steps for her recovery. Alfie takes her temperature regularly, administers any prescribed treatments, and keeps a record of her symptoms to share with the doctor during follow-up appointments.

During Red's serious illness, Alfie takes on the responsibility of managing their business affairs. He temporarily steps into Red's role, attending meetings, making decisions, and handling any urgent matters that arise. Alfie understands the importance of maintaining the stability of their business during Red's absence, and he takes it upon himself to ensure everything continues to run smoothly.

Alfie reaches out to Red's close friends and family members to keep them updated on her condition. He understands the value of their support and wants them to be aware of Red's situation. He provides them with regular updates and reassures them that he is taking good care of her. Alfie appreciates their concern and finds solace in their well-wishes and offers of assistance.

Red Taking care of Alfie when he is unwell Headcanons

When Alfie is unwell:

When Alfie gets sick, Red immediately shifts into caregiver mode. She ensures he has a comfortable space to rest and recover, setting up a cozy spot in their bedroom or living room with blankets, pillows, and his favorite comfort items. Red knows that Alfie tends to be stubborn when it comes to taking care of himself, so she takes charge and makes sure he follows a regimen of rest, hydration, and medication.

Red prepares nourishing meals for Alfie, making sure he gets the nutrients he needs to regain his strength. She prepares his favorite comfort foods, like hearty soups, stews, and warm drinks. Red knows that food can have a soothing effect, and she takes pleasure in watching Alfie enjoy the meals she prepares for him.

Red warns his doctor that Alfie tends to be stubborn when it comes to taking care of himself and emphasizes the severity of his illness. She ensures that Alfie's doctor is aware of any specific symptoms or concerns and asks for clear instructions on how to care for him at home. Red takes note of his medication schedule and sets reminders to ensure that he takes his prescribed medications on time.

Red creates a calm and comforting environment for Alfie to rest and recover. She plays his favorite music softly in the background and dims the lights to create a soothing atmosphere. Red knows that Alfie appreciates a sense of familiarity and security, so she makes sure their home feels like a safe haven during his illness.

Red would often make traditional Russian foods for Alfie while he was unwell, as she knew his mother is Russian and Jewish.

Red encourages Alfie to rest and relax, reminding him that his health is the priority. She reassures him that she can handle any business matters that may arise and that he should focus on recuperating. Red understands Alfie's tendency to be driven and stubborn, so she gently insists that he takes the time he needs to recover fully.

During Alfie's illness, Red takes on the role of his personal nurse, attending to his needs and providing comfort. She checks on him regularly, ensuring he has everything he needs and offering words of encouragement. Red brings him warm beverages, like herbal tea or honey-infused drinks, to soothe his throat and ease his symptoms. She also keeps a supply of tissues and cough drops nearby, ready to provide relief whenever he needs it.

Red would also make traditional Russian warm drinks to alleviate Alfie's symptoms. She prepares drinks like Elderberry Tincture: Elderberries were used to create a tincture, which is a concentrated herbal extract. Elderberry tincture was believed to have antiviral properties and was used to support the immune system and shorten the duration of colds and flu.

During Alfie's illness, Red takes care of their pets, making sure they are fed, walked, and given attention. She knows that Alfie loves their furry companions dearly, and she wants to ensure they are well-cared for during his absence. Red often brings their pets to visit Alfie in bed, providing him with some extra comfort and companionship.

Red showers Alfie with affection and love during his illness. She holds his hand, cuddles up next to him, and whispers soothing words of comfort. Red understands that physical touch and emotional support can have a healing effect, and she wants to make sure Alfie feels loved and cared for throughout his recovery.

#Peaky Blinders #BBC Peaky Blinders #Alfie Solomons #Red x Alfie Solomons #Red (Female Reader)#Red (Fem! Reader)#Red (F! Reader)#Alfie Solomons x Female Reader #Alfie Solomons headcanons #Red (Female Reader) Headcanons #Peaky Blinders Headcanons

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glittergrubz · 1 year

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I really got inspired by Roguein recent WoF characters and I needed a break of the Silkwing adoptables. I also figured I could hit two birds with one stone and practice posing/anatomy. I'm still having trouble but man I'm really proud of myself! I hope my art really improves as time goes on. ---

This here is Omen, a design I got from Scribblespider a while ago. I bought it on my old Meat-Monster account. I felt like it was due for a redesign as I struggled with the original lore n design alot. But the colors were very eye catching.

Omen was genetically created by an Icewing scientist who let's just say has a mysterious past with the royals. This Icewing wondered if 1) A Allwing could be made and 2) How would it live and what would be the pros and cons of an Allwing. This has been a strange obsession for the Icewing for years and after many many awful years of mistakes he created Omen.

Omen is Intersex (She/Her) and her birthday was an awful day. With her genetically modified body she struggled the moment she hatched from the egg. Not only were her claws not normal (extra digits, mutated wing arms and muscle issues) but her genes were not the greatest selection. Some of the DNA came from the scientist himself, the others were from strangers he managed to stalk and take precious pieces from. Some of those dragons were related (hybrid siblings) while others were fighting off chronic illnesses and sadly had a fatal end to the Icewing scientist. She could not control her poisonous smoke breathe as a hatchling and quickly became very very sick. The Icewing scientist was absolutely outrage that the first Allwing to successfully hatch was going to perish soon, and so he abandoned Omen in the freezing winter storm and went back to his studies. She was no use to him anymore, although he did regret throwing her away so soon. Not because of his awful actions, he was upset he could not dissect her and study her body. His anger got the best of him, and he's quite annoyed about that.

Omen was found crying in the storm, and was quickly found by Tardigrade, a Ice/Hivewing (They/Them). Tardigrade quickly took Omen in and managed to heal Omen's poison, as it had the same properties as an old poisonous plant from her old home. Once she made the remedy Omen was quite spry, it took a while for Omen to control the smoke but she learned before she could get severely sick again. She even gained some immunity to it. Tardigrade raised Omen like their own daughter. Although Tardigrade was not a innocent dragon, a bounty hunter. They killed many dragons, and even more to protect their sweet Omen.

When Omen turned 4 years old sadly Tardigrade fell ill and passed away. With this Omen used the skills Tardigrade taught her and began her nomadic life. Tardigrade's death still haunts Omen, her nightmares are filled with their death. She gets barely any sleep now. As time went by she became harden and paranoid. Many dragons hunted her down as a trophy, others stole from her. She became what others call a monster, "death itself". Stories began of her awful kills and her bruteforce. She still wished even with dragon's necks in her mouth, seering the scales of dragons with her stinger that maybe Tardigrade could be brought back.

When Omen was 8 years old she almost died, this time ambushed by one of the 5 Sandwing Gangs that now rule Sandwing territory. One member of the Sandviper Gang had knocked her out and began suffocating her, she was powerless to this dragon. But she was saved, the Bone Gang rushed the member, killing them immediately and quitely. Omen was taken in, nursed back to health by Bonez, the leader of the gang and the most powerful gang in the territory. Bonez made an offer, stay with us you'll be safe, feed and warm. But you'll have to work for me, Omen nervous but being reminded of the family she once had she accepted. Now she's Bonez personal bodygaurd/henchman. Omen still mourns over Tardigrade but now she has a family, a disfunctional family with lots, lots of issues but a family nevertheless. Her and Bonez are very, very close.

Her crazy fighting from her young years have now been carved to be brutal, precise and dominating. Even with her disadvantages she is quite the opponet and their are many stories of her battles and kills. She kills if she has to, and while she does have her morals now she will kill those who pose a threat to Bonez or her family. She will do absolutely anything, even if it means killing the Preist of Pests. Her weapons are her claws, stingers and horns, but she has been trained in weapons. When she is not killing or intimidating threats, she's often found by Bonez.

Voiceclaim: Death (Puss in Boots) --- ★ Not for Other's Use ★ ★ Feel Free to Take Inspiration but Credit Me ★ ★ NOT FOR AI USE OR NFT USE! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED AND BLACKLISTED ★ ★ DO NOT REPOST/TRACE/EDIT! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED AND BLACKLISTED ★ DA: https://deviantart.com/glitterbonez TW: twitter.com/GLITTERBONEZx FA: https://furaffinity.net/user/glitterbonez/… Tumblr: khaleern.tumblr.com/

#im death straight up #wings of fire #wings of fire oc #allwing #wof

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beomgyw · 2 months

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THE BOY IN THE DARK

you chose to say home

if you're new here, go back to the beginning !!

so, you grab your smokes and throw on a hoodie, sneaking out onto the balcony for some alone time. you're glad to discover that, unlike in seoul, the stars are perfectly visible here.

you're just about to lean over the balcony to see what's going on when you hear a voice, a bit desperate sounding, saying, "huening-ah, come on! i never ask for anything!"

and from the content of the message, it could've been yunjin. but the voice was male.

then, a frustrated "fuck it" is followed by rustling in the nearby tree branches. your eyes go wide as you see a hand emerge from the foliage, gripping the fence of kai's balcony. slowly, a figure emerges—a boy, his features all shadowed by the night. you squint, trying to see better, but all you can make out is his silhouette against the moonlit sky.

"are you trying to rob us?" you blurt out.

you lean over the balcony, trying to get a better look. "shit, are you okay?" you call out. "wait, i'm coming down!"

without wasting a moment, you dash down the stairs and out of the house, where you find the boy, grimacing and clutching at his knee.

"is it bad?" you ask.

he meets your gaze. "agonising."

"let me take a look," you offer, even though you know your medical skills are pretty much non-existent. it's just something people say, right? you breathe a sigh of relief when you discover it's just a bloody wound – painful, yeah, but nothing too serious.

"thank goodness," you mutter, "i'd probably pass out if it was worse, like a bone sticking out or something."

you chuckle. "well, wanna come inside? i'm definitely no doctor, but I can at least offer some sanitizer or slap a band-aid on that."

"um… y-yeah. sure, yeah," he stammers before following you into the house.

"you know who i am?" he asks, sounding surprised. he doesn't seem thrilled about it. like he doesn't like being recognised, specially by you, who knew him only during middle school. you get the feeling.

"yeah, i remember you swinging by to help grandma with her garden when she got the injury... and we used to be in the same class. plus, yunjin mentioned you... she gave me a brief introduction to huening's friends, really. so I just kinda put two and two together..." you start explaining, but then you spot a trickle of blood on his leg. "oh, hold on, let me grab the first aid kit... i'm sure grandma keeps it in the same spot..."

"is that a good thing?"

"i don't know yet,"

"well, I'm not that fond of my middle school self either," you confess, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you focus on cleaning the blood from his leg.

he watches you work in silence, his thoughts swirling beneath the surface, until he finally speaks up. "you were cool," he says, his voice soft. "i always thought you were cool."

"not everyone thinks the same," you reply modestly, though a warmth blooms in your chest. "do you remember park jintaek?"

"do i remember beelzebub? yeah, how to forget..." he groans, a faint chuckle escaping him.

"well, i ran into him on the train earlier today, and it was like being thirteen and miserable again," you confess. "so, i think i understand what you mean. i just hope that's not the feeling i'm giving you... you know, of absolute horror."

"no way," he shakes his head, a genuine warmth shining in his eyes as he meets your gaze. "never." he adds with a smile, though his face then changes to a more serious one. "was jintaek that bad? i mean... he didn't cross the line, did he?" he asks. and that's just the gentler way to phrase it he could come up with. essentially, what he means is, "what did that dumbass say to you? i'll break his legs."

you wish you could find the right words to respond, but nothing seems to come out right. in your head, everything sounds like either self-victimization or demonizing jintaek, and you're too caught up in your emotions to figure out the right approach.

your expression must have darkened, because beomgyu mutters, "hey, don't let him ruin your summer. huening and yunjin are ready to lay him out if he tries anything..." he hesitates, then adds, "and now me too."

"thanks," you say, flashing a grin, and he returns it. neither of you can see how red the other's ears are under your hair.

when you're done cleaning and disinfecting the wound, you tap his knee, "there you go, done. didn't even shed a tear, you're a tough guy… oh, and would you look at this!" you say, holding up a treasure you just found in the aid kit: a box of hello kitty band-aids. you slap two on his knee, forming a cross. "cutified war scars."

"anyway, i should get going. i've got work tomorrow," he suddenly announces, getting up from his seat.

"yeah, same here."

"oh, you got a job? where at?" he asks with sudden interest.

"just this bookstore near wavecrest beach..." you reply, noticing his face light up for reasons unknown to you.

"cool, that's cool! you gotta grab your coffee at the cuppa corner," he says with a sparkle in his eye. "they make the best one around."

"i will," you respond. "oh, by the way... not trying to pry, just curious... what brought you here in the first place?"

he tilts his head, a grin playing on his lips as he gestures towards his car parked outside. "oh, i was hoping to drag kai along to this... well, let's call it a spontaneous hangout."

you share a knowing chuckle. "well, he's completely knocked out. soju got the best of him."

"well, it was nice talking to you." you say.

"yeah, likewise. sleep well," he smiles, already making his way towards his car. there's a fleeting moment where he seems like he wants to say more, but he ultimately decides against it.

so that just happened. you're gonna go to bed thinking of beomgyu, but you better fall asleep; first day of work tomorrow !!

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