Tumgik
#I'd like to be pinned by Arthur too
his-darling-swain · 22 days
Text
Arthur Morgan headcanon with a Male S/O:
I'd like to think they often like to playfully roughhouse with each other, with Arthur initiating most of the time, mostly catching his S/O off guard.
Arthur would let S/O think he's winning, but at the last minute, Arthur would pin or puts him in a headlock, declaring himself as the winner.
35 notes · View notes
yanderepuck · 2 months
Text
Drake has officially been deemed THEE monster fucker of the game.
He's on his ship, meaning the wheel and outloud just goes "man... Id fuck the kraken." And whoever hears just stops immediately and looks at him. "I'd top too"
And they are like "do you need a break, Captain?" "Maybe we should go to land" "Have you been in the sun too long?" "Let's get you under the deck"
This man believes in mermaids like how Arthur believes in fairies. Only Drake wants to fuck a mermaid.
He's like "Damn. Imagine finding a mermaid and getting pulled underwater and being ripped apart. That would be so hot"
Playing smash or pass with mythological creatures and he's smashing all of them.
Half woman? Perfect. Tentacles? Even better. He's a pirate of course he's into that.
"You think a minotaur could throw me across the room and pin me to a wall?"
"I mean... Probably..?"
"....Yeah I'd let a minotaur top me."
He's had his crew go mermaid hunting before and they just didn't know it.
Drake about a sphinx: if I get it wrong you get to fuck me. If I get it right I get to fuck you.
He'd let a mermaid rip out his throat. He thinks it would be hot.
Arthur taking him fairy hunting and Drake is like "so are these fairies small, or do they like.. have a more human version. Can they get bigger?"
You show him any creature and he's going to tell you he's going to fuck it
Drake: if you think about it. We're monsters, so it's not really monster fucking
Galileo: do you ever think before you speak
80 notes · View notes
helloalycia · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media
the king’s ward [two] // morgana pendragon
Tumblr media
summary: as you continue to hide the truth about your identity, your final round is against the Prince of Camelot himself.
warning/s: mentions of violence, injury and kidnapping.
author's note: so glad you’re all enjoying this one! here’s the second part 🥰
one / three / four / masterlist / wattpad
Tumblr media
The next few fights went about as smoothly as the last one did, but without a doubt I pulled through and eventually made it to the finals. Morgana didn't tell anybody about who I really was, which I was very surprised at, and I toned down my flirting with her massively. Partially for the fact that she now knew it was me, and also because it certainly wasn't impressing Uther. I couldn't risk it, especially if he found out the truth about me.
When I found myself facing off Arthur in the final match of the competition, I was nervous to say the least. Everybody wanted their future king to win, of course, but I only wanted to see if I could beat him. He was the best of the best, but I could be, too. Couldn't I?
After the King made a short speech that essentially hinted at Prince Arthur kicking my butt, the fight began and I was thrown into the deep end. He only fought with a sword, as did I, and we both had many close calls, pinning each other down with ease. This fight was the longest I'd had with anybody, the blonde proving to be quite the challenge. But unlike his other opponents, I was keeping up with his every move.
He was bigger, physically, which made it easier for me to sneak around him, avoiding his sword. When his did clash with mine, he had the upper hand with strength. But it didn't take long for me to use his own strength against him and flip him over me. Before I could make the winning strike, he rolled off the ground and pulled his helmet off, throwing it to the side like it was a mere inconvenience. I swallowed hard, keeping mine on and trying not to let his focused expression deter me.
He stalked toward me, swinging his sword with might and keeping me on my toes. I didn't falter under his constant strikes, but my arms were growing tired with his considerable speed. My only option was to disarm him, and when he least expected it, I managed to flip his sword out of his hand and land it my left one, immediately holding him at the end of my sword. He froze, jaw clenching when he realised I'd got him stuck, and everybody waited for me to make the final strike. After all, there were no rules.
But I was no villain, and I gave him a curt nod before dropping both of my arms, lowering both swords. He pressed his lips together but nodded respectfully, accepting his defeat. The crowd erupted into cheers as I tossed him his sword back, and then I began to smile to myself because I'd done the impossible. I'd beat Arthur Pendragon.
When I turned to see the King's reaction, he did not look impressed in the slightest, still seated and staring at us both with shock. Morgana, on the other hand, was stood up and clapping with amazement, grinning down at me. I waved at her, grateful, and then glanced at Prince Arthur who was now smiling graciously.
"You did good," he said over the noise of the crowd, and then smacked my back with pride, but it was a lot harder than I expected and I tipped forward at the force, my helmet flying off before I could catch it.
I froze, my eyes widened with panic, and the crowd went quiet in unified shock. I feared looking up, but when I did, Arthur was staring at me with a slack jaw.
"You're a girl?!"
I looked up at the King, only to see the pure anger and shock written across his face. I facepalmed mentally, knowing I was screwed.
Tumblr media
Y/B/N and I were kneeling before the King as he yelled at us about how we had made a fool of him, Camelot's traditions and everybody who took part in the completion. I tried to pay attention, but all I could think about was how close I'd gotten to winning. So close, yet so far.
"...and I could have you banished from Camelot forever!" he was saying, pacing back and forth before us.
Arthur was stood behind him, still in disbelief that I'd beaten him, and Morgana was there too, listening to his verdict. Once he'd finished, she suddenly stepped forward.
"My lord, was it really that bad? Maybe Y/N just wanted to compete," she tried to reason with him, but he wasn't hearing it.
"Women can't fight!" he snapped at her, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
"This one can," Arthur mumbled.
I fought a smile from my lips, which Y/B/N detected and nudged me with warning. Uther was glaring down at us both, irrationally angry.
"You," Arthur suddenly said, looking down at me, and I met his gaze. He seemed conflicted. "You're extremely talented. Nobody has ever bested me."
I wasn't sure what to say, so I stayed quiet.
"It's not right what you did," he said thoughtfully, "but it wasn't fair that you couldn't compete in the first place."
"Arthur!" Uther scolded him.
"Father, a win is a win," Arthur said in a pleading tone. "She deserves the prize and the praise!"
"The whole of Camelot cannot see their future king be beat by some– some woman!" Uther said with disgust.
"But I was!" Arthur argued right back, certainly surprising me. "And that's okay!"
"No," Uther muttered, before pacing again. A silence fell upon us as he decided what to do with us. And then he stopped suddenly, beginning to relax. "We will tell everyone you saw her hair before she disarmed you. That you faltered at the deception and couldn't beat a girl. That you let her win."
At this blatant lie and disrespect, I looked up. "But that's not–"
"You can keep the prize money if you keep quiet," he said to me with a scowl. "Fair?"
I blinked, swallowing hard.
"Father, that's an outright lie!" Arthur disagreed before I could answer. "What's the harm if they know the truth?"
Uther glared at him. "I don't expect you to understand." His gaze fell back to me. "So. Do we have a deal?"
I frowned, glancing at Y/B/N. He mirrored my frown, but nodded. I sighed then nodded to Uther.
"Deal," I agreed reluctantly.
Relived that the discussion was over, Uther nodded. "Finally. Good. I tire of this."
Not sparing us another glance, he walked past us and out of the throne room. Arthur sighed and nodded to my brother and I.
"Please, stand," he said. We did, and he continued, "I'm sorry. Y/N, you should've been able to fight as is. It's a shame no one will know the truth of your abilities and talent."
"Maybe you can change that when you become king," I said disappointedly. "For now, this will have to do."
He rubbed the bridge of his nose with discomfort. "You'll both still be attending the banquet this evening. At my invite. It's the least you deserve after winning."
"We'd be honoured, my lord," I said with a nod.
"Great," Arthur said, relieved. "I shall see you tonight then."
We both bowed respectfully before leaving the throne room, following the knights out of the castle. Once we were finally alone, Y/B/N and I embraced with relief.
"I can't believe you beat the bloody prince," he said with a pride-filled smile.
I laughed, the overwhelming joy of it all – winning and somehow getting away with it – getting to me. "I did."
He pulled me into his side as we began to walk through the city. "So, what are you gonna do with the prize money?"
"What are we gonna do with it," I corrected him. "I couldn't have done any of this without you."
"But we were caught," he reminded me.
I shrugged. "Doesn't matter."
He smiled. "Maybe we can buy some clothes for the party tonight. Got to look our best after all, don't we?"
"Not a bad idea, brother, not a bad idea at all."
Tumblr media
Despite Arthur having invited my brother and I to the party this evening, Y/B/N and I still felt a little unwelcome. Word had spread about my deception, including how Arthur had let me win – a story I really hated but knew I couldn't argue – so many eyes were on us when we entered.
"You sure you don't want to leave now?" Y/B/N asked, half joking.
"If I can't get the credit, I can at least enjoy some free food," I retorted, making him smile.
Before we could even think about where to start first, a servant boy approached us with a friendly smile. I recognised him, certain I'd seen him waiting after Arthur throughout the week.
"Y/N, congratulations on your win!" he exclaimed. "Your fighting was just incredible. Not many people can beat Arthur, but you just..." He made a punching gesture with hand, amazed.
"Thank you, but as I'm sure you know, Arthur let me win," I told him, managing not to grimace at the lie.
He snorted as if he didn't believe it. "Right. Well, either way, you're a very talented swordswoman."
I smiled for real, appreciative of his compliment and also the fact that he seemed to believe I'd won by myself and not by Arthur's right.
"Merlin, stop bothering my guests please," Arthur suddenly came out of nowhere, patting the servant boy on the back.
The servant, who I now knew was called Merlin, rolled his eyes playfully before shooting me a final smile and leaving us be
"Y/N, Y/B/N," Arthur said, eyes falling to us. "You both look great. Do enjoy tonight. I've already told my father not to bother you. It's your night as much as anyone else's. Especially mine."
"Thank you, my lord," Y/B/N said, nodding his head, and I nodded, too.
"We appreciate it," I added.
Arthur pursed his lips, staring at me for a moment longer than usual, before mumbling to himself as he walked away, "Beaten by a woman."
My smile grew as I sensed he still wasn't over the defeat. Even if nobody else knew, it was still enough to know I could actually do it.
"C'mon, let's go get a drink," Y/B/N said, already heading towards the table full of drinks.
We both grabbed a goblet each, cheering to my win subtly, before taking a sip. Talking about what we might do next, we almost didn't notice Morgana approaching us.
"Y/B/N, Y/N," she greeted with a warm smile.
"My lady," Y/B/N returned, bowing respectfully, and I followed suit.
"Please, it's really not necessary," Morgana said in jest.
Y/B/N and I exchanged smiles, knowing it was, but we didn't want to offend Morgana and say otherwise.
"I'm going to track down some food," Y/B/N suddenly said, and he shot me a look before leaving Morgana and I alone. I supposed I was grateful he did.
"I never got the chance to say it before," I started, meeting Morgana's gaze, "but thank you for sticking up for me earlier. With the King. You didn't have to."
At the reminder, her smile faded slightly. "I did. I'm just sorry you were caught. You almost had everyone fooled."
I smiled disappointedly. "Yeah, well... Arthur has been too kind, letting me off so easily."
Morgana glanced out at the prince as she spoke, "He has a good heart. Better than his father's." After a moment, she looked back to me with a sad smile. "I'm sorry nobody will know good you really are. It's not fair."
I shrugged, downing the rest of my drink before putting the goblet to the side. "I'll know. That's enough for now. It's all people like me will ever get so... I'll take it."
Her eyes softened. "You deserve more, Y/N."
I didn't know what to say, and stupidly enough, her attention was making me more nervous than usual. I avoided her gaze, hoping my face wasn't turning pink.
"So, what will you and your brother do now?" she asked curiously. "Stay in Camelot perhaps?"
"I would have loved that," I admitted, "but it's probably not for the best. What with the King wanting to kill me and everything."
She rolled her eyes, suppressing the urge to laugh. "A bit dramatic, Y/N."
I tilted my head, quirking an eyebrow. "Is it?"
This time, a laugh escaped her and, gosh, it was quite literally music to my ears.
"You have a pretty laugh," I told her, and this only served to make her hide a shy smile as she looked away. I admired her for one of the last times, before answering her previous question. "Y/B/N and I will figure something out, I'm sure."
"Involving a sword?" she asked playfully.
"No doubt," I agreed. "I love it too much."
She nodded. "Good. A talent like yours deserves to be used."
I exhaled quietly, insides warming at her words. "Thank you, Morgana."
"Where did you learn to fight like you do, may I ask?"
"My father taught Y/B/N and I when we were young," I shared, surprised she'd asked. "We were farmers in our village, but it was raided one day. We had to leave and fighting was all we had afterwards. I took to it better than Y/B/N, but he is plenty good with a sword, too."
"Where are your parents now?" she asked.
"They died in the raid," I said awkwardly, unsure how to say it without sounding like I needed her pity.
Frowning, she shook her head. "I'm sorry to hear that."
I shrugged. "Don't be. It doesn't make me sad to talk about it. Honest."
She looked between my eyes, smiling sympathetically. "I'm sure they'd be very proud of you and how good you are a fighter. Or at least, to know you beat the Prince of Camelot."
I smiled, which soon turned into a laugh when I realised she was trying to lighten the situation. "I hope so."
"It's unfortunate you'll be leaving after tonight," she said with a disappointed sigh, "but I do hope our paths will cross again soon. I was beginning to take a liking to you, Y/N."
My own smile widened, my heart fluttering a little at her words. I bowed once more, saying, "My lady." And when I put out my hand, she gave me hers and I kissed the top of it gently. I looked up and saw she was smiling down at me, green eyes bright and dazzling and making me second guess leaving Camelot.
Suddenly, somebody moved into the side of me, forcing me to drop Morgana's hand and straighten up. I realised it was Y/B/N, looking unimpressed.
"Seriously? In front of everyone?" he muttered, referring to my overtly flirtatious behaviour.
I couldn't help but laugh, too overjoyed to care. "Everybody is distracted by the party."
He grumbled to himself before the two of us faced Morgana. She was tempted to laugh at our encounter, but hid it behind a smile.
"I'll miss the both of you," she admitted, looking between us. "Good luck with what's next. And enjoy tonight."
Y/B/N nodded, smiling appreciatively, and I let my eyes linger on hers for as long as she'd let me. As she turned and walked away, I watched after her dreamily, wanting so badly to grab her hand and whisk her away.
"I wish I could ask her to dance," I said with a sigh.
"You're so stupid," Y/B/N said, used to my behaviour when I was like this.
I grinned, looking at Morgana once more before letting Y/B/N drag me away to find some food. I was certain I'd never forget her, no matter where I ended up.
Tumblr media
6 months later...
"We seriously need to invest in a good horse," I complained to Y/B/N as we trekked through the forest. "My feet are giving out on me."
"All you do is complain," he said disapprovingly. "The exercise is good for us!"
I rolled my eyes, adjusting the cotton mask tied around my head and covering my nose and mouth. "Tell that to my swollen feet, mate."
He chuckled beside me, his eyes creasing over his mask, the only indication in addition to his obnoxious laugh that he was amused. "I promise that I'll pay extra for a nice hot bath at the next town so you can soak your feet. Sound good?"
I grumbled to myself as I used my sword to cut away at an annoying branch. "You better bloody do. I'm too young to be limping like I–"
"Shut up!" he whispered suddenly, cutting me off.
I fell quiet, detecting the seriousness in his voice, and my ears perked up to hear what he had. There were male voices in the distance, too far for us to make out specifics. I kept my sword in hand as Y/B/N unsheathed his quietly, exchanging looks.
"Could be bandits," he muttered with caution.
"We'll avoid that way then," I told him, sticking to our usual plan.
He nodded in agreement. "There's a way that leads around the stream and will–"
But he was cut off by a short girlish scream, followed by grunting and laughter. My expression hardened when I realised the bandits must have taken someone, an innocent woman no doubt. We couldn't leave her to fend for herself, and as soon as my gaze met Y/B/N's, he was already nodding in agreement.
"You got your knives?" he asked, looking as peeved as I did.
"Uh-huh. Let's go teach these arseholes a lesson."
The two of us moved quickly and quietly, having moved around in these woods for long enough to know how to keep silent and blend in with our surroundings. The bandits' voices grew louder as we approached and we realised it was a small camp. There were a few tents set up, a campfire in the middle and half a dozen or so men hanging about, either sharpening their swords or having a quick drink.
Y/B/N and I waited, eyes taking in the scene to see what we were dealing with. Seven men were present, with three standing on the outskirts and keeping guard and the rest milling around the camp. I scoured the campsite for any sign of a woman, certain I'd heard one, and that's when my eyes widened at a familiar sight.
Y/B/N grabbed my arm, signalling that he could see her too. It was the Lady Morgana and her handmaiden, the two of them bound with rope and sat back to back on the ground. Their clothes were dirty and raggedy, like they'd put up a fight, and there was a single bandit circling them like a predator does with its prey. His sickening smile put them at unease and I so desperately wanted to slice him to pieces there and then, but we had to be tactical.
Tugging me back, Y/B/N motioned for me to follow him. We backtracked, a fair distance away so that we could coordinate quickly.
"How did they get here?" he asked what I was thinking, before shaking his head. "Never mind. We need to get them out of here. If they've managed to kidnap the King's ward and have set up camp, that means they're making a trade."
"I know," I said with discomfort. "We can make this quick and there'll be nobody left. No trade."
He nodded in agreement. "Okay, so this is what we're gonna do..."
After discussing a quick plan, Y/B/N and I split up to circle the camp on different sides. He was dealing with the bandit guarding one side, whilst I dealt with the other two. Thankfully, we didn't have to get close just yet as we had throwing knives. All I had to do was line up my shot and...
His body hit the ground like a sack of potatoes and I immediately moved onto the next guard. This one was trickier considering he wouldn't stand still, constantly pacing. I almost had my throw perfected when there was a shout on the other side and both the bandit and I turned to see what it was.
"We're under attack, you idiot, help!" one of the bandits called to my target, and I groaned inwardly, knowing Y/B/N had been unfortunately noticed.
Running forward, I was able to take one bandit by surprise as the six others tried to circle Y/B/N. I stabbed one with ease before they began to realise there was two of us, and then I was suddenly fighting three bandits at once. The past six months of taking up odd jobs, plus years of training with a sword, put me at an advantage and I was able to move around without faltering once. In under a minute, all three of them were either dead or bleeding out. Y/B/N had managed the same and we both let out a deep breath, lowering our swords.
The muffled screaming from my left made me turn to see Morgana and her handmaiden, Gwen, staring at us with wide, terrified eyes. They were scrambling backwards on the ground, still sat down and tied back to back, and I tried to step forward to untie them, but they weren't having it.
"It's okay, we're not going to hurt you," Y/B/N said calmly, bending down to pull the pieces of cloth from their mouths. "Just let us–"
"Stay away from us!" Morgana yelled, teary eyed and protective of her handmaiden. "Don't touch us!"
I wondered why she was so scared, and then realised she'd just watched Y/B/N and I murder a bunch of bandits and couldn't see who it was.
"Y/B/N, our masks!" I said to him sharply, and his eyebrows raised with realisation before we both pulled them down to our necks. I looked back to Morgana and Gwen, saying, "It's okay, it's just us! It's Y/N!"
Their fear faded instantly, replaced by shock, and thankfully they let me lean down to cut their ropes from their hands. Y/B/N and I helped them to stand, before I looked over them both with concern.
"Are you hurt?" I asked worriedly. "They didn't touch you, did they? We heard a scream."
"They were teasing us, but no, they didn't touch us, thankfully," Gwen answered, wiping at her eyes. "Thank you. Both of you."
"Are you?" Morgana asked, eyes looking me up and down.
"Am I what?"
"Hurt, you idiot," Y/B/N mumbled, and then I widened my eyes.
"Oh, right! No, no I'm fine, don't worry," I assured her, a little embarrassed and flustered from her tense stare, before looking to Gwen. "I don't believe we've officially met. I'm Y/N."
"The one who beat Prince Arthur in the tournament, right?" she asked, recognition flashing across her expression.
I began to grin. "Why yes, that is–"
"Y/N, not the time or place," Y/B/N cut me off with a knowing look.
I sighed, unfortunately knowing he was right, and changed the subject. "Right. We need to get you both out of here. There could be more of them and we don't know who's going to meet them here. It's not safe."
They nodded in agreement, but before I could even think to lead them out of there, Y/B/N suddenly let out a groan and hit the ground. My eyes widened when I saw an arrow sticking out of his shoulder, and both Morgana and Gwen let out a scream, eyes staring ahead. I didn't waste a second as I grabbed my throwing knife and turned around, throwing it in the direction of the arrow. One of the bandits, heavily injured but not quite dead, had retrieved his bow and arrow. Now he was bleeding out from his neck thanks to my great aim.
"Y/B/N," I rushed out, leaning down to see if he was okay, but his injury didn't look great and my heart was beating way too quickly. "Y/B/N, talk to me!"
"I'm okay," he mumbled, voice strained with pain. In an attempt to push himself up, he hit the ground again and let out a sigh.
"Don't move– just– just wait," I told him, needing him to stay still so I could think.
The arrow was only stuck halfway, not too deep, but if I removed it he would bleed out. We had some time, maybe enough to get him back to Camelot with the others. But not long.
"Can you walk?" I asked him, before attempting to help him stand.
Morgana and Gwen helped on his other side, standing him up before he leaned against me for a moment. His face was scrunched with discomfort, but he looked well enough for now.
"If we're gonna go, we need to go now," he said with a nod. "I'm good. Let's go."
I worried, glancing over him, hesitant to get moving like this. He couldn't hold a weapon in this state, and I couldn't protect him and the others.
"Here, lean on me for support," Gwen encouraged, already moving to his uninjured side. Shooting me a look, she said, "I'll help him walk. Let's get out of this horrid place, please."
I nodded in agreement, pulling my mask back over my face. Unsheathing my sword, I motioned for them to stay behind me before leading the way, on high alert as we carefully walked through the forest.
When I was certain we had cleared enough distance between the bandit camp and us, I stopped fretting and began to ease up a little.
"You okay back there, Y/B/N?" I called, glancing over my shoulder.
"Just peachy," he quipped with half a smile.
I returned it, though his clammy, paling skin was worrying me. Trying to distract myself, I faced forward again, though felt Morgan's presence at my side.
"I'm glad to see you again after so long," I said to her with a quiet voice, so the others couldn't hear. "I do wish it were under better circumstances however."
She glanced at me, a small smile on her lips. "Me too. Gwen and I... we're lucky you and your brother were here. We were out riding when the knights watching us were ambushed. Then we were taken and that's when you found us. That was a day ago."
I frowned. "That's horrible. But don't worry, it'll all be okay now. We're gonna make it back to Camelot and you'll be safe again in no time."
"Thank you," she murmured.
"I'm only sorry I don't have a horse and carriage to help ease the journey," I joked, wanting to lighten the mood.
Her smile grew, a genuine, beautiful one that warmed my heart, and gosh, had I missed seeing it all this time.
118 notes · View notes
trashboatprince · 2 months
Note
"I need you, you idiot" with the ineffable duo if ur up for it
I'm trying to figure out what's a good excuse to use this that isn't post-s2 because... yeah, haha.
So, here's something from very early in their Arrangement. :)
On with the fic!
--
Guard duty had to be the absolute most boring task for the Knights of the Table Round. Well, that and the meetings, sometimes Aziraphale was tempted to experiment with napping like Crowley did during those.
Speaking of, the demon had been laying low for quite some time, it had been a few months since any word of the 'Black Knight' in the land. Arthur was thrilled, but Aziraphale was a bit curious. And a little annoyed.
Crowley had spent weeks pestering Aziraphale about the Arrangement, and when he finally agreed to it, the snake had run off! To God knows where!
He sighed loudly, shaking his head. Why even set up this thing if you had no need to use it? He thought Crowley needed him for something urgently when he had agreed but-
There was a rustling from somewhere below Aziraphale and he stopped in his patrol around the guard wall of Arthur's castle. He listened closely, hearing more of the rustling, before a few hissed curses.
Frowning, Aziraphale peered over the ledge, staring down into the darkness below. The torches around the ledge didn't give him much light, but he could make out someone below. A very familiar someone. "Crowley!" He hissed, glaring at the demon.
Crowley was not in his armor, instead in normal clothing, and also appeared to be covered in leaves, as he was pulling some off himself. He looked up. "Angel! There you are, thought I'd have to break in!"
"Why are you here?"
"To talk to you?"
"About what?" Aziraphale asked, irritated. Mainly for Crowley only just now showing up, with no warning. And for the fact that he had made Aziraphale worry over his safety, not that Aziraphale would admit to it.
"About... uhhh... look, can I come up there? Gotta talk to you in secret."
Aziraphale frowned deeply, glancing this way and that. The other knights were off in their sections, paying no mind to Aziraphale. Still, just to be safe...
He snapped his fingers, the others would pay no attention at all to him or this side of the castle until Crowley left.
Suddenly Crowley was at his side, wings out, when had he flown up here!?
"Alright, what is it? And where have you been!? You left without a word!" Aziraphale shouted, throwing his hands up.
Crowley blinked. "I didn't tell you?"
"Of course not! Uhg, that is so like you, you always do that. Get me talking and making plans, only to vanish off the face of the Earth without even a note! You'll probably do that after this conversation, to the surprise of no one."
The demon snarled. "Oh please, like you haven't done the same to me! 'Sides, 's not my fault I left! Hell had me on a job and wouldn't even let me pack up first! Practically dragged me there myself!"
"Is that going to happen again this time?" Aziraphale sniffed. "Why am I even talking to you right now? I'm on guard duty, can't have you messing up that job again for me. Away with you."
Suddenly, Aziraphale was pinned against the ledge of the tower, staring into golden snake eyes. Gosh, they looked lovely in the light of the torches.
"I need you, you idiot." Crowley said, voice low but powerful. It sent a weird shiver up Aziraphale's spine. "It's important, extremely important, and part of the Arrangement now if you wanna protect your prissy friends."
"W-what?" Aziraphale blinked.
"Hell wants... me to cause problems for your knights. Apparently, they're getting a little too good at what they do around here, and Hell wants me to screw all that up. I honestly don't give two shits, but this is a big job."
"And... what do you want me to do about it?" Aziraphale asked, mouth a bit dry, he kept looking at Crowley's mouth.
"Think you can... thwart my wiles? I mean. Look, I know the Arrangement was basically set up for use to, ya know, do each other's work, but I don't really want to do this, seems like a lot of trouble. And they don't know there's an angel on the team, Hell has no clue that you can, technically stop me."
Aziraphale frowned, finally registering his words. "But won't your bosses be upset if you fail?"
"That's... where the Arrangement really comes in. Think you can stir the pot for any trouble going on with Arthur's crew? Just a little? Nothing huge or involving all of 'em, you can 'stop' me from making a big disaster, but 'allow' me to cause a little trouble? To please my bosses?"
"And what do I get out of this?"
"There's this lovely monastery that isn't exactly the most blessed place across the sea. They are well known for their wines and wine-infused cheeses. Been thinkin' about treatin' you there."
Aziraphale considered this, it was tempting, and oh he had such a love for a good cheese. "That, and I'll need you to do a blessing in London for me, it's for an inn that opens in four days."
"Deal!" Crowley grinned, letting him go, much to Aziraphale's disappointment. For some reason. "I gotta get goin', the Black Knight's been too quiet lately, I'm gonna go steal some goats for shits and giggles."
The wings were back out again as Crowley jumped up onto the ledge. He turned to look at Aziraphale, grinning. "See you around, angel!" And he was off.
Aziraphale swallowed, feeling a bit too warm for his armor. Well, best to get planning for this 'stirring the pot' plan. What could he look into? Maybe that whole thing with Lancelot? His stares at Arthur's wife? That might cause enough trouble to entertain Hell, for a while at least...
--
This... is longer than I had expected, haha. But I like writing their early Arrangement days.
Also, I love the idea that Aziraphale accidentally ruined Arthur's love life.
21 notes · View notes
dedalvs · 1 year
Note
what kind of books do you like reading?
My favorite era is 19th century Russian literature. Some of my favorites from there are Dead Souls by Gogol, Fathers and Sons by Ivan Turgenev, Eugene Onegin by Alexander Pushkin, and Oblomov by Ivan Goncharov (I was utterly baffled as to why everyone was talking about Ivan Goncharov when I came back to Tumblr!). I loved a lot of early 20th century American literature, in particular F. Scott Fitzgerald, who was an early hero, and I also read a lot of Joseph Heller and Vladimir Nabokov (Russian/American). I've read everything by Franz Kafka—even the bizarre stuff, like Amerika—and loved it all. My favorite writer of all time is Virginia Woolf, and I love reading writers who experiment with style (Lewis Carroll, of all people, has a nice early example of stream of consciousness with Sylvie and Bruno). I think the best piece of writing I've ever seen from America is Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison.
I've also read and enjoyed some stuff from the 16th-18th centuries (in particular, Ludovico Ariosto's Orlando Furioso, Edmund Spencer's The Faerie Queene, and John Milton's Paradise Lost), but a lot more that's a lot older. Giovanni Boccaccio's The Decameron is a great collection of tales like The Canterbury Tales, but better (note: I haven't yet read 1,001 Nights. Thomas Malory's Le Morte d'Arthur was a lot of fun. I slowed down a lot about eight years ago). I even love the fake ones that are tales within tales like Jan Potocki's The Manuscript Found at Saragossa. But I love chasing down and reading older works, like sagas and epics. Some of my favorites are The Nibelungenlied, The Kalevala, Njal's Saga, and The Epic of Sundiata. Gilgamesh is absolutely incredible. I've read some clunkers, though, like The Song of Roland, which I found dry, dull, and short.
As my reading slowed, I liked to read books aimed at young readers. Growing up, I loved the Oz books, which I find to be an utterly fascinating example of uniquely American (and non-European) fantasy. We have that and Little Nemo, but most other fantasy you get (outside of modern times) is distinctly European, and owes more to Lord Dunsany and Tolkien than anyone else. I loved The 13 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear, which I just finished ready to my daughter (Walter Moers). Michael Ende's The Neverending Story is probably the best book for young readers I've read. And then there's the Moomin books by Tove Jansson... What a find those were! Written for kids, but so unbelievably melancholic and subtle! Every page is packed with so much loneliness and longing! I couldn't even believe what I'd read after reading Tales from Moomin Valley. "The Fillyjonk who Believed in Disasters" is something I think every adult should read. It reminds me a bit of The Magic Mountain (see below) in how subtly it captures a character or series of character traits that are quite natural and recognizable, but so hard to pin down! Tove Jansson was brilliant.
For utter, nonsensical, bizarre, indulgent, and absurd escapism, I read E. T. A. Hoffmann. It's hard to even describe how ridiculous his stuff is. Like...you read this stuff, and are saying, "You can't DO that! You'd be laughed off AO3 for that!" And yet he does. And he doesn't care. He had an audience of one, and that was himself. I have no idea how his works are even remembered. Utterly bizarre.
That captures a lot of it. Here are some that don't fit elsewhere:
The Buru Quartet by Pramoedya Ananta Toer (masterful)
Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller (wrecked me)
Moby Dick by Herman Melville (tore through it!)
Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra (this one, too! Thick book, but such a quick and joyful read—and written with such exquisite detail!)
Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (one of the best of the 19th century)
The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann (so subtle... Let me tell you, this is a long book, and like, it's 90% over, and suddenly this new character is introduced, and it's like, "What even is this…?", and yet, somehow, he takes like 50 pages, and you suddenly care about this guy... Astonishing)
The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton (tour de force; her best, in my opinion)
Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut (his best that I've read, and the one I'd recommend to everyone)
Forest of a Thousand Daemons by D. O. Fagunwa (terrible translation, but so wonderfully inventive!)
Black Elk Speaks (I want to mention this, because I really loved it, but it has a problematic history, so fyi)
True Grit by Charles Portis (one of the most beautiful short novels I've ever read; the Cohen Bros. adaptation is actually very, very close to it)
The Awakening by Kate Chopin (what a smack in the face that one is!)
The Tempest by Shakespeare (my favorite of his)
The Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass (best written work from America in the 19th century)
The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin (by contrast, one of the most ridiculous things I've ever read in my life; HILARIOUS)
Journey to the West by Wu Cheng'en (read the whole thing, and...wow. lol So much repetition with humor throughout capped off by brilliance)
The Bostonians by Henry James (the best demonstration of exactly what he aimed to do: produce an ending that has two equally plausible and utterly opposite interpretations that can both be supported textually)
Nohow On by Samuel Beckett (the culmination of his work, and a worthy one)
Three Tales by Gustave Flaubert (I bawled—loudly—after reading "A Simple Heart"; I couldn't help it)
Thanks for asking this! It's been so long since I've really read... It's nice to remember. I wanted to read the Studs Lonigan trilogy for ages now... Oh, and I went through a Gabriel García Márquez phase! And Tom Robbins! And, of course, I've read all the wonderful comic novels by my friend Nina Post, whose wit astounds me.
Okay, now I'm just not getting to sleep. But this is some of what I've read that I've loved. Also, for certain things, I've read a lot (like 19th century Russian literature and Samuel Beckett), so I can tell you what not to read. For example, A Hero of Our Time by Lermontov? Pass. Same with The Golovlovs by Saltykov-Shchedrin. You can probably pass on War and Peace, as well, due to its girth, but you're going to miss some good stuff (amidst a lot of dry stuff).
Okay, hitting the button now! I'm done.
(Oh, but if you were assigned Their Eyes Were Watching God and kind of passed on it because it was a "school book", that was a mistake!!!)
(Oh, Cane by Jean Toomer!)
(Oh, and if you want a short one that has a "wah-wah!" ending, check out As I Lay Dying by Faulkner! lol That rascal...)
(OH! And the "school book" thing? Hard ditto on Of Mice and Men. Holy shit, that book... Wow.)
(OMG BABBIT!!!!! I loved it!!! Pass on Main Street, though.)
(Oh, and John Updike can miss me with his Rabbit stuff... YIKES!)
(Oh, and if you like Woody Allen's style but not Woody Allen, try Portnoy's Complaint.)
(Last one: Jasmine by my short fiction professor Bharati Mukherjee, who sadly passed away far too soon. On the last day of class, she'd forgotten she was going to have us read Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky. As we were walking out the door, she made us promise to read it. I never saw her again, but I did, Ms. Mukherjee, and it was tremendous. Thank you so much for what you gave me. I had so much trouble showing my work to other people before that class. You helped me so much, and I wish I could've told you. You may think those who have influenced you will be around forever for you to thank one day, but they're not. Today's the day. Tell them what they meant to you. You'll regret it if you don't.)
63 notes · View notes
watercolor-hearts · 5 months
Note
Hey swettie!! Rumours said that you're doing panick attack prompts🥺 I'd love to make a request for you if you're ok with thaaaat.
10 and 4, for Piarles🤍💙
Hi dear 😊
I took my time this one, that's for sure, but I had to survive the first semester, and also, I don't really know that much about Pierre so for a while I wasn't even sure if I'll be able to write this story for you.
But it's about a panic attack and it's hard to say no to it, especially when back then this was the only prompt I got in a long time. So yeah, I tried my best with it and I hope you like it.
Oh, and another thing. This is the first time something like this happened, but I forgot to include the actual prompts in the story. I only remembered it was a panic attack prompt, I forgot about the actual lines (10 & 4 from a panic attack prompt list). I'm so sorry. I hope you'll still like it. ❤
Also, dear people who want to request a story from me: please check my pinned post before sending prompts and pairings. It has all the important information about pairings and topics I write and don't write for. Let's make each other's job easier. Thank you. 😊
Charles/Pierre, Arthur • 1067 • crash • mentions of dying • panic attack • fainting • hurt/comfort • crying • a religious moment • Ao3 link
-
Charles was chatting with Pierre outside the Alpine garage when it happened; a loud bang on the track, carbon fiber flying everywhere, fans screaming and crying on the grandstands. A huge crash in turn one.
“Oh my God, who was it?” Charles asked, immediately turning around to see if he could identify the car from where he was standing but they were too far away to clearly see. He needed to get closer.
The blood froze in Pierre’s veins when he saw the crash on the TV on the wall of the garage. It was Arthur. And it was bad. Very bad.
“Charles, wait!” Pierre shouted when Charles started running. Pierre knew Charles shouldn’t go there. They won’t let him close but he still shouldn’t go there. 
Charles didn’t listen to him. He needed to make sure his brother was alright. 
A few moments later Pierre was able to catch him but it was too late, Charles had already heard words like “it’s a Dams” and “got T-boned” and “it’s in two pieces”. Charles’ throat tightened and heart pounded as he tried to get closer to have a better view.
“Charles!” Pierre touched Charles’ shoulder to get his attention and to hold him back from wanting to go closer. 
“Let me go!” Charles shouted, fighting Pierre’s strong hold on him. “I need to see if it’s Arthur, Pierre. I need to—”
“They won’t let you there, Charles,” Pierre told him, trying to guide him away, unsuccessfully. “We should go back to the garage.”
“Is it Arthur, Pierre?” Charles asked, voice trembling. Pierre didn’t know what to say. “Is it Arthur, Pierre?” Charles asked again, louder, his chest heaving with difficult breaths.
“Charles, come back with me, okay?” Pierre asked, looking into Charles’ scared eyes, trying to quickly find a way to get Charles back to the garage before he'd break down. “They won’t let you go there. Come with me. They’ll tell you everything they know.”
“I need to see my brother!” Charles shouted at Pierre when he tried to pull him away from the crowd that was blocking the view. “I need to see him, Pierre! I need to see if he’s—” Charles’ chest heaved as he tried to breathe but he started feeling like it’s harder and harder to do it. They didn’t let him see his brother. They didn’t… “I need to hold his hand, Pierre. I can’t—I can’t lose him. I can’t—”
“He’s being airlifted to the hospital,” one of the marshalls told them, “They’re working hard to bring him back.”
If looks could kill, Pierre would’ve killed that marshall for saying this in front of Charles. 
“W-what do you mean to bring him back?” Charles asked, breath stuck in his throat as the realization hit him. His brother was dying. They were doing CPR on him. 
The world started spinning with Charles. He didn’t know where he was, his vision became blurry, he couldn’t breathe, he could only feel his heart racing like it wanted to jump out of his chest. Arthur was dying. His little brother was dying. Dying. Dying. Dying.
And now Charles felt like he was dying too.
“-les, look at me,” Pierre told him while putting a hand on his shoulder to distract him, “You need to breathe—”
“Arthur—”
“Charles, please, look at me,” Pierre asked, trying to help Charles calm down but it didn’t seem to work because Charles didn’t listen to him but started hyperventilating instead. Now Pierre almost started panicking too, seeing how fast Charles’ breaths were and how disoriented he looked. He had never experienced anything like this. He didn’t know what to do. 
“I can’t brea— I can’t— My chest—” Charles whispered before his sight went from blur to nothing, his only luck not falling on the floor was Pierre’s quick reflexes and strong hands catching him and preventing him from hitting his head.
“Help!” Pierre shouted, blood rushing in his ears as he held Charles’ limp body close to his own, his heart racing like he's just ran a marathon, “I need a medic!”
***
“It was a panic attack,” the doctor at the medical center told them after taking a look at Charles’ EKG, not seeing any abnormalities in it that could cause concern. Charles was now lying on the examining bed, fully conscious. Fortunately, he had only blacked out for a few seconds.
“You sure it wasn’t a heart attack or something like that?” Pierre asked, his thumb caressing Charles’ hand, looking for reassurance and also trying to provide comfort to Charles. “He gestured towards his chest and wanted to say something about it before he collapsed.”
“I’m sure, yes,” the doctor nodded, “His EKG is normal, so is his pulse, blood pressure, heart sounds, and breathing, and there’s no chest or arm pain. It was a really strong and scary panic attack but it’s over now, fortunately. I advise resting for a few hours,” he said, and then looked at Charles, “Someone from your team is waiting for you outside. You can either go back to the garage or stay here for a while to gather energy, it’s up to you. Do you have any questions?”
“Is…,” Charles gulped, taking a deep breath before attempting to actually ask what he wanted to know since he has been conscious again, “Is Arthur… alive?”
“He’s in critical condition,” the doctor replied, “He’d been airlifted to the closest hospital and is in surgery now. This is all I can tell you.”
“Will he…?” Charles wanted to ask, but instead he just shook his head and tried not letting the tears find their way down his face. It was hard not to cry, but he wanted to look strong, and he knew nobody knew if Arthur would survive.
“We are all hoping for the best.”
Charles nodded, closing his eyes for a moment before opening again and looking at the doctor. “Would you please tell my team I need a few minutes alone? I mean, with Pierre. Just a few more minutes and I’ll go back.”
“Of course.”
“Thank you.”
After the doctor had left, Pierre looked at his and Charles’ hand and then at Charles. His heart broke when he noticed the wet spots on Charles’ face, his eyelashes stuck together from tears, his eyes red and glassy.
“Charles,” Pierre whispered, squeezing Charles’ hand, voice thin from almost crying, “Let’s pray for Arthur.”
12 notes · View notes
vickyvicarious · 2 years
Text
Lucy turned her head and looked at us, but said nothing. She was not asleep, but she was simply too weak to make the effort. Her eyes spoke to us; that was all.
+
After a bit I began to grow anxious, for the loss of blood was telling on Arthur, strong man as he was. It gave me an idea of what a terrible strain Lucy's system must have undergone that what weakened Arthur only partially restored her.
Lucy has gotten so weak, lost so much vitality. It's no surprise Seward called Van Helsing back in, or Arthur was so scared for her. And... maybe she is too weak to speak, but she also hasn't been complaining. Still, even through all this, she is so stoic.
As he did so the narrow black velvet band which she seems always to wear round her throat, buckled with an old diamond buckle which her lover had given her, was dragged a little up, and showed a red mark on her throat.
Lucy was hiding her bite marks. Has been this whole time, it sounds like. Which brings up so many questions. When did she start wearing this band - in Whitby, so Mina didn't look at/get guilty about the "pin-pricks"? Or was it after coming back to London, when she was trying so hard to be cheerful?
She hasn't shown her neck to her doctors. She hasn't told them about it - maybe Van Helsing knew, and he was just surprised at how bad the marks look this time compared to before, but I'd be fully willing to believe Lucy kept this from him too. The question is why.
Is this a compulsion or command from Dracula? Does Lucy understand now what is happening to her and is trying to protect the others around her from the knowledge? Maybe she has resigned herself to her fate and just wants them to think it was at least natural. Maybe she doubts her own sanity and is hiding the evidence on her neck in case someone else tells her they see nothing there.
I don’t know, but Lucy continues to be a liar for the sake of everyone else and I want so badly for her to just be selfish and admit to someone what is going on and how terrified she is. :(
145 notes · View notes
pacifymebby · 9 months
Text
t r o u b l e / chapter fourteen
Chapter list
Tumblr media
Sylvie
"Our fuckin brother eh?" grumbled Ada with a roll of her eyes. She was lying back on the settee in the original living room - the cosiest of the three which had now been built into the house apparently - one foot kicked up on the arm of the sofa, the other leg dangling lazy over the side.
I sat on the floor playing with little Karl who was still small enough that he could clamber up over my ribs and use my body as a climbing frame. It was a game I remember I'd enjoyed playing with John and Arthur when I was a wee girl too and it felt kind of funny to be playing it now as an adult.
"Fuckin dinlow," I agreed, "thinks he can shift us around like chess pieces,"
"Hmm," she agreed, "one day someones going to show him he can't play dictator forever," she said reaching down to hold Karls hand, "Don't let him trample you love you need those legs," she said trying to tug Karl away from my shins.
"He's fine," I said with a small smile, "he's still so tiny I can barely feel him."
Karl was giggling as he teetered and flailed trying to learn his balance as he stood on my thighs. Ada laughed.
"You must be joking Fen I swear the little rot get heavier every day," she said her smile glowing as she tousled his hair fondly, "looks more like his dad everyday,"
"Yeah," I said pinching the little boys cheek, making him giggle and snatch at my thumb, "he's got his smile hasn't he, your eyes though I think..."
"Our mams eyes," she said, "and mine and yours and Fens," she said, her smile lingering despite her sad sigh, "reckon every baby born into this family from now until forevers gonna have her eyes... The shelby curse just can't be lifted eh?"
I thought about my own streak of Shelby then, the dead hollow which had gouged my chest earlier that morning, the dark dead feeling which lined my ribs and left a pins and needles tingle in my fingers.
Then I looked at Karl, looked into his eyes and hoped it wasn't true. They were Ada's eyes though, and Ada was right. Everyone always said we had our mams eyes, so perhaps little Karl was doomed too.
I felt the tip of the sadness I knew I should have felt, like a paintbrush dabbing hesitant emotion over my chest. I knew exactly how I should have felt but instead of feeling the ache of it deep inside me, instead of really feeling it, instead I felt only surface level sorrow. A fleeting glimpse at the thought of feeling. And then just like that nothing at all.
"No," I said, "not little Karl, he's gonna be just right." I said already thinking of something else. My mind already preocupied with other things, other plans I hadn't really finished making. Things I should have thought through but had neglected to in my determination to simply make sure they came to be.
Isaiah had been standing quietly by the living room door, leaning back against the wall. His eyes watching me and little Karl, occasionally skirting the rooms perimeter. Every now and then he'd wander to the window sill and lean in the frame, watching the grounds and the drizzling afternoon. The gloom rolling in from the peaks. I knew what he was thinking, knew he was hoping I'd change my mind, lose this blinding determination and see some 'sense' but if he thought that was going to happen now then he clearly didn't understand our family as much as he thought he did.
"For gods sake Isaiah stop skulking about, you've got free will you know..." teased Ada making a lazy and dismissive gesture with her hands, beckoning him over so that he really had no choice. He might have been a bit of a cocky prat but he never defied Ada. I thought perhaps he was secretly scared of her... That or he was harbouring a crush on her that made it impossible for him to contradict her or ignore her. "Get that gun away, its fucking vile, guns around children... You know statistics say..."
"Got my orders Ada," he said with a sigh, taking one last look out of the window before he came to sit with me on the floor, "so you can worry about your statistics and I'll worry about keepin you safe..."
She laughed at that, a cruel almost spiteful laugh as if to let him know she didn't believe he could, or, that she didn't believe she needed him to. He scowled but he didn't argue, didn't let her see his irritation, just focussed on me and reached out to Karl offering him a finger to hold on to.
"From what exactly? Tommys already seen to it that we're kept locked away... Don't kid us Isaiah, you're here more to keep us inside than keep them out,"
I couldnt hold back my smirk, she was right and he knew it. Tommy could spin his story however he liked, with the perimeter guarded by Blinders, with all his high tech security doors and cameras, his panic rooms tucked deep inside the walls, all his escape routes too, Isaiah's job was less about defense and more about playing prison guard.
"Just put the gun away," sighed Ada, "I don't want Karl getting used to it,"
So he did, tucking it back into the waistband of his jeans. Karl not even noticing the weapon, too busy focussed on me, still trying to climb and clamber over the frame of my body.
"Careful lad," chuckled Isaiah, scooping him up when he saw me wince because the little one had unwittingly stepped on a bruise. I'd over stretched myself a week or so ago and had taken a tumble half way through class when my partner had placed my down and the muscles in my leg had quivered and given way. It happened more frequently than any dancer of my calibre was pleased to admit, but the humiliation of the scene had stuck with me and it was more that than the little stab of pain which had drawn the wince from me.
"You gotta be careful with our Sylvie lad, them ballerinas are made of delicate stuff y'know," he said letting the boy climb up his chest instead, earning himself a knee to the ribs that made him cough and crack a selfaware kind of grin.
"What about footsoldiers eh, whatre they made of?" chuckled Ada painting the poor lads cheeks a scarlet shade.
He shrugged it off, laughing as he played with Karl and watching him then almost made me feel guilty. He was trying his best to do everything right, trying far harder than either me or Ada ever had or had to. And tonight I was going to burn all his efforts to the ground.
But it wasn't guilt that gripped me. It was a dark kind of humour, I couldn't ignore how funny it was. The way we sat there playing innocent, playing with Karl, barely looking at one another, both of us knowing that everything I did was an act. Isaiah unable to call me out on any of my bullshit for fear of seeing the final straw snap.
"Where's Sunny?" asked Ada, "I heard her arguing with Tommy this morning, she still thinks she can go back doesnt she..."
"She's not stupid Ada," I smirked, "she knows she can't and its broken her heart... Its not the same fir the rest of you, your politics will still be there when all this is done and dusted, her spotlight will have been habded over to someone else... She's lost a lot, she's not sulking she's grieving... "
"If she goes back to London the Italians will snatch her up and do god knows what with her to get to Tommy... One lead role ain't worth it..."
"Well, I know that Ada... And so does Sunny, deep down, but she's allowed to be upset about it..." I said pretending to steal Karls nose, enjoying how he giggled and made little snatching hands to steal it back.
"It is a shame," she acquiesced, "god knows what she's been putting herself through all these years to climb to the top but..."
"The Italians would put her through worse," I shrugged, "and she knows it, she'll come round trust me, she just needs a few days to cry... You know what she's like, our very own Sylvia Plath..." at that Ada giggled and clipped me round the back of the head with one of Karls peter rabbit toys.
"Sylvia!" she grinned, "you can't say that!"
"Why not?" I grinned too, "I'm her identical twin... I'm exactly the same," I smiled though it wasn't exactly anything to smile about and I could see Isaiah glowering out the corner of my eye. Probably thinking of the conversation we'd had earlier. Probably remembering how precariously I'd placed myself in the open window. How determined and certain, how horrifyingly calm I had been when I'd looked him in the eyes and promised that I'd do it.
He didn't smirk or laugh along. Even when I flashed him a smile of my own and later when the sun was setting, when I'd argued with Polly about skipping dinner and retreated to my room, wondering where Sonya was because no one had heard a word from her since she'd stormed out of Tommys office that morning.
"She'll be with Bonnie," Isaiah had said thinking I needed reassuring she was safe. It wasn't that which bothered me however. I'd been hoping to steal her away from a moment. To let her know of my plan. How I intended to go to London myself and request Solomon's help. I knew she'd understand me and I wanted to give her the hope my brother had ripped from her that morning when he'd been so cruel to her. Whilst I was in London I'd try to pick up a little information about Freddie, find out if anyone he knew, knew about him and Sonya. If he'd kept her a secret then he was an honest lad who loved her as much as she believed him to. If he'd told a soul then it was as Tommy had said and her heart would be broken. But at least I'd be the one breaking it and I could be as kind as she needed, as gentle.
And at least we'd be certain. At least she'd know she could trust me. I didn't have any alterior motives, I wasn't trying to break her spirit so that she'd obey my every commabd as Tommy would be hoping for.
I was sure that if I could just speak to Alfie then he would understand our plight. I'd seen him around the opera house before, I knew it was the music he loved, the art. Not the girls as most of the sleazy old men who visited the opera houses were there for.
I'd never seen Alfie by the stage doors but I had been the one to water the roses he sent to decorate the dressing rooms every opening night.
I knew he'd empathise with Sunnys distress, I knew that if I could speak to him I could prove Tommy wrong. I was dead certain of it, completely determined to at least try which was more than could be said for my brother.
"You're such a fuckin liar," said Isaiah glaring at me as he closed my bedroom door behind him. The two of us alone together with his bad mood, "all fuckin day you've made me listen to you lying through your fuckin teeth..."
"Don't know what you're bothered about Isiah, morals aren't exactly anyones strong point in this family..."
"Thats your brothers Syl, it ain't you..you an Sonya have never been like that," he countered, his eyes dark, black treacle wounded and fixed on mine. I couldn't look away and I didn't want to either. He was showing me something he never had before. That Peaky boys had feelings too.
And maybe if that switch in my head hadn't flicked over I'd have smiled softly and apologised and taken his hand and been good to him about it, but it had switched and so all I could do was smirk, the veil still between us.
"Well don't get upset about it love," I shrugged, "people change don't they and Tommy really has forced my hand here," I said taking Pip my old toy mouse from my bed and ripping his back open with my teeth as I had done once when I was very young.
Isaiah watched me, that glower only growing more troubled as I pried the little toys fur open with my fingers and delved inside his stuffing. As if he was just a toy, one I'd never clutched to my chest or sobbed into as a girl.
I smiled triumphant as my fingers curled around the things Id been searching for, three rolls of cash tied with elastic bands.
"What the fuck love when did you.." started Isaiah his eyes growing wide probably imagining I'd stolen them from my brothers and that it was just more trouble I was dragging him into.
"When I was seven," I said, "so don't worry I think Arthur will be over it now..."
"You stole all that from Arthur when you were seven?"
"Uhuh," I said counting, not looking over at Isaiah as I gave him my short, sweet explanation, "it was dope money I think, so if anything he should be grateful I took it..."
"Yeah well," he grumbled, "somehow I can't see him thankin you..."
I grinned, a toothy, proud kind of grin, remembering how I'd snuck into my older brothers room and slipped my hand into his sock drawer knowing exactly where he kept his stash. I'd been watching him for several weeks and I'd learnt his whole routine by heart. I'd known exactly how much time I had between his departure to buy and take, and his return when he'd stumble back and collapse in his bed. I knew he wouldn't notice the missing cash until several days later by which time he'd only be able to imagine he'd spent the money himself on extra dope or a bit of something else to take the edge off.
Of course at such a young age I hadn't known the gory details, but I'd known enough to know when it was safe to take it. And I'd known enough to know that taking that money wasn't exactly wrong.
I'd stitched it up inside my little Pip that very same day and vowed to keep it safe for a rainy day. Not just a gloomy cloudy day when the streets flooded and stank of sewage and damp, but a rainy day when I really, really couldn't stand Small Heath anymore. When I absolutely had to get away.
Now this wasn't small heath but the sentiment remained.
"You saved that there all this time?" he asked cynically, "since you were seven?"
"Yeah," I shrugged, "it wasn't very difficult Saiah," I added deadpan as if the truth was obvious to anyone but me, "I moved half a country away less than a year later... Me and Pip have only been together a handful of times since..." I said with a smirk looking down at the little mouse left ripped open on my bed.
Isaiah didn't say anything then, just watched me as I gathered the last of my things. I wasn't exactly travelling heavy, but there were a few things I knew I needed to take with me, and a few things I was loathe to travel without.
As he watched me placing a couple of mismatched posessions into a bag, along with a change of clothes, a few pieces of underwear, an ipod and some headphones intended only for Alfie Solomons, Isaiah began to grow restless. As if seeing me move about the room with such cold precision purpose was making him realise it was real. As if he were suddenly being forced to acknowledge what he was actually about to do. That he was going to go against Tommy. That he was about to take me right down south into the lions den. That potentially he was going to let both of you get killed.
Every time he tried to say something he trailed off, got half way through the sentence and lost the heart. He knew exactly what he was doing just as I did. He was just filling silence, saying anything else he could possibly think of to stop him from saying what he really wanted to. Because he felt helpless up against the wall which was the "Shelby Curse" even if he hadn't quite realised that that was what he was up against.
Its difficult to argue with the barrel of a gun, no matter who its turned on.
I sat down on the edge of my bed with a satisfied sigh, lips together, slight downward curve, soft and relaxed. Too relaxed apparently.
"For fuck sake girl what the bloody hells wrong with you!" hissed Isaiah finally snapping as he snathed the little bag from my lap and cast it asside, "fuckin stand up, fuckin sittin there like that when you were threatening to shoot yourself in the fuckin head a matter of hours ago! How the hell are you just sittin there like that?" he was doing well to keep his voice down, I had to at least give him credit for that.
"Because it isn't time to go yet," I said simply, "and I'm not much of a pacer... Sunny tends to pace but not me y'know," I shrugged looking over my shoulder at the window I'd stood in that morning. Unable to keep the smirk off my face when I remembered how I'd held the poor lad to ransome. He hadn't been expecting anything like that.
"Yeah and when it is what exactly is it you think you're gonna do? Just get up and go aye?"
"We're just gonna go for a walk," I said, "lovely evening isn't it and Tommy thinks I've got a crippling infatuation for you..." at that I saw Isaiah's lips curve slightly, like something in his ego had been snuffed out. Like any upper hand he might have thought he held over me had been vanquished just like that.
"So he's wrong then is he?" he chuckled, his smirk tugging at his lips, confidence not exactly wavering.
"It's not crippling," I shrugged standing up and returning to the window without so much of a second glance at him. I was checking the lawn for one last view of my sister returning but the grounds were empty and I was forced to accept that I wouldn't be seeing her before I made my trip. When I turned back to Isaiah he was watching me expectantly, that frustration evident in his tight jaw, the glower in his eyes as he watched me with a building contempt.
"Shall we go?" I asked dropping my phone on the bed, knowing Tommy would be able to track us easily if I was carrying my mobile.
"Fuck sake," said Isaiah shoving his hands in his pockets waiting to follow me out the bedroom door.
The house wasn't exactly quiet and as we passed down the hallway I heard Polly on the phone talking to Michael, she must have had him on speaker because his voice was loud enough that I could hear both ends of their tense conversation. Her fussing and him growing tired, telling her he needed his rest, needed to sleep. Her saying she was surprised he could sleep after what had happened to him.
Ada lay docile on the sofa in the main lounge, a fire burning, her and Karl glowing orange as they dosed together. Perhaps she was finally burnt out after another losing battle with Tommy.
I didn't see any of my brothers before we made it out the front door but I could hear Arthur and John laughing and shouting somewhere down the hall and I knew the three of them would be sharing drinks under the guise of putting their heads together to fix the family predicament.
"We'll leave through the main gate, you can do the talking," I said taking Isaiah's hand in mine, entwining our fingers so that we looked intimately bound as we walked down the drive.
"Fine, whatever..." he replied, letting his fingers lock with mine but refusing to grip, sulking with me as we walked the long drive through the evenings haze, the mist slowly gathering in from the peaks and the heaths. "Where exactly d'ye plan on walking to Sylvia?" he asked quietly as we approached the gate, his lips a thin but self righteous smirk, like he thought he was catching me out.
"You're the brooding gangster Shiah, I'm sure we won't have to walk for very long," I shrugged knowing full well that he could probably hot wire the next Chelsea tractor we passed. I wasn't really bothered if the owner felt like making the donation or not.
"This is your bright idea love..."
"And you're the most important part of it..." I sneered back, the sweetness which gleamed on my expression as I stood on tiptoes and surprised him with a kiss to the cheek - more for Johnny Dogs benefit than his. He froze beneath my lips but only for a moment. His eyes wide for half a second before he heard Johnny's laughter and understood what I'd done.
"Sneaking about are you miss Shelby... you'll be in trouble if our Tommy catches onto any of this..." he warned though his smile and the amusement in his eyes told me that if Tommy did find out it wouldn't be because Johnny Dogs had been telling tales.
"Please don't tell anyone you saw us uncle Johnny!" I rushed out dropping Isaiah's hand, hiding my face behind my hands in embarrassment so that the older man only laughed harder.
"You're lucky its me out here and not your uncle Charlie!" he laughed, his rushed tone just threatening enough for bus to hear the warning in his teasing, "he'd have your bloody balls Isaiah Jesus!"
"Aye well," said Isaiah, "don't go telling him either eh Johnny..."
"Ahh your secrets safe with me lad don't you worry," he said still grinning, still believing himself privy to a secret and a joke at someone else's expense, "ha!" he chuckled, "young love eh, I remember it well eh, back in me youth..." he started too caught up in his story to realise we were slipping past him until it was too late.
I heard him call after us, something about us not being meant to leave the grounds, but neither Isaiah or I made the mistake of turning back so he was forced to hope we'd be back before Uncle Charlie came to swap posts with him for the night.
I bit back a smile, trying not to laugh so blatantly, knowing that Isaiah already thought me a sociopath after the way I'd treated him before. But when I looked up at him I saw he too was struggling to hold back a laugh at the old mans expense and, when we locked eyes we couldn't help dissolving into giggles at the stupid trick which shouldn't have worked but had. It wouldn't have worked if it had been anyone else trying to pull it off, we both knew that, and as we walked in step down the lane, moving quickly to make as much ground as possible before my brother could realise we were gone, we kept our hands held. Our fingers remained intimately interlinked.
8 notes · View notes
throwra3882 · 1 year
Text
Okay, so, this thought won't leave me alone, so I have decided to finally post it. Fair warning, the post is super long.
It's about Micah Bell from Red Dead Redemption 2.
I'm not new to the Red Dead Fandom. I've been playing the game solidly for nigh on 3 years now, and I adore it. I've played so much red dead that I can turn my map off and find my way around the world. I memorized where most of the hidden loot stashes, dinosaur bones, and rock carvings are. I hardly have to look at the treasure maps to know where my next destination is going to be.
My first playthrough, Micah was my least favorite character. I hated his guts. I had an excellent time during the epilogue and took too many screenshots of me posing next to his dead body.
My second playthrough, because I knew what was going to happen, I harassed him, watched him, and tried to see if there's any way you can change the outcome. On story missions together, I'd chuck dynamite at him.
And suddenly overnight he became my favorite character. I think it's because I love to root for a charismatic villain. I think it's because I was finally noticing little details about him and thinking, oh, that's neat. The creators put a lot of thought into this game. It kind of clicked in Guarma when Micah actually protected the camp instead of laying about doing nothing like he usually does.
So I went looking for content to see if there were other Micah enjoyers out there. I was not surprised to find there were! What I was surprised about was how controversial liking his character made someone.
I've been on tumblr for over a decade (not with an account, I lurked that whole time) and everyone who's been here that long knows two things.
You police yourself. You look at tags that interest you, you block tags you dislike (I'm a little sex repulsed, so I don't like looking at explicit art. Not that the artists aren't talented or that people can't enjoy it! But it's not my cup of tea so I tend to avoid that), and you generally stay in your area of interest.
Fandom and reality stay separate to an extent. Can you have merch of your favorite fandom? Pins and socks and jacket patches? For sure! Can you go to conventions and cosplay as your favorite character? Absolutely, you look fantastic! Can you go harass an actor because you don't like their character? No way! Doing that makes you a shitty person. (Jack Gleeson/Joffrey Baratheon comes to mind)
So I was surprised that so many people decided that liking Micah meant the person was racist or idolized his behavior, which is not what normal, healthy people think.
I am aware that Micah is the villain. I am aware that he is a problematic fave and is a racist, sexist, homophobic piece of shit. That's not why I like him. Racism, sexism, and homophobia in real life are bad. I would never like a person in real life who was like Micah. But I am fully aware that Red Dead Redemption 2 is a fictional world and Micah Bell III is a fictional character, and I am not going to now idolize racist, sexist, homophobic assholes because I saw it in a video game. That's like saying that playing video games makes you violent in real life, which is an issue that a lot of boomers had when video games became popular, saying it was going to make kids violent.
The reason I like Micah is because the game is about redemption, and I like to explore how Micah could possibly be redeemed. Honestly, he reminds me of a kid fresh out of high school who's still saying the same stuff his parents taught him, and who hasn't yet been to University to see that the world is not black and white and that people of color actually exist and are people, instead of racist caricatures explained by his parents because he grew up in a town without any diversity.
I wonder what could have happened if Micah had grown up in the Van Der Linde gang (he's only 3 years older than Arthur. Hosea and Dutch could have adopted him). Or if the gang didn't fall apart and they actually got to start a new life somewhere with the Blackwater money.
I think it's okay to explore that. What if he realized his racism and sexism and homophobia were bad? What if he wasn't so socially awkward and abrasive and actually got to know and like people? What if he took steps to try and make amends for his past behavior and became a better person? In a game about redemption, I don't think it's so far-fetched to want to imagine that.
In conclusion, block the things you don't want to see, and as long as you're able to separate fiction from reality, like whichever characters tickle your fancy.
18 notes · View notes
khaleesiofalicante · 11 months
Note
Okay I have three exams next week and then again one on Monday so I'm drowning. But I was with my friends today studying and I needed something from one of their phones so I asked for the password and she goes like "dude you know my password I've told you a million times" (I have a terrible memory,oops) and then I remembered. In LBAF, David's password always had something to do with Max. And I thought, what if that was a constant for Max and David. I mean, Max needing something from David's phone and just typing the code, it could be a pin with his birthday or even a password like 'mon ange' or 'my max' or something like 'ayan' or anything like that really. And then I thought about IALS (as one does) and this scene came to my mind and it's not letting me concentrate so I thought I'd share it with youu
Okay so imagine David and Max somewhere between those two years in IALS epilogue, after Mexico and before Africa, they are in the kitchen cooking together and David is washing something and he gets a text from the kids or something and he turns to Max like "Mon Ange can you get that" and Max grabs his phone and goes "Babe what's your password" and David stops what he's doing and looks at him incredulously because "You need me to tell you my password? You always know my password" and Max rolls his eyes and says "Well yeah because it always had to do with me". And David's face turns soft and and he gives a Max a goofy smile and tells him "Give it a go" and Max shallows nervously and puts his birthday and the phone unlocks and he looks back at David with disbelieve and David just cocks his head and keeps smiling and Max wants to kiss the hell out of him but he can't so he chuckes nervously and goes "Babe you're obsessed with me" and somehow and David's smile gets bigger and he says "Finally, we're on the same page" because Max spent years thinking David hated him or he moved on and now he knows that that could never happen and oooohhh I love those two sooo much!
Okay, it's out of my system now, back to the salt mines. Also, I hope you have a great time exploring the city and staying, taking time to enjoy the things around us and make the best of things is awesome (your roommate better stay away from you and not ruin this). Good luck with the report!
PS: Your talent and your amazing characters and those little scenarios that keep popping in my head make me really happy so thank you for that 🌷
I love this so much omg.
And David's password 100% has something to do with Max. Maybe being like i<3max or some shit.
I can totally see Arthur being "Awwwwwwww" and Lance being "is cyber security a joke to you people?"
I am drowning in work too but I'm solely focusing on the RELIEF I'm gonna feel when I submit this long-ass report SO FOCUS ON THE RELIEF BABYGIRL I'LL SEE YOU ON THE OTHER SIDE.
13 notes · View notes
grav1d · 5 months
Note
I'd like a long, slow burn coming up to the night I roughly, loudly pound a baby into you. Teasing you for weeks about how huge you're going to get, pondering aloud if you'll conceive twins.
Finally, the night arrives. It just so happens that we're out with friends. We go to a local pizzeria and tap room. We trade knowing smiles back and forth all night, everyone around us not knowing that we're trying for a baby tonight. It's been our shared dream to have a huge family, and you gleefully agreed to my demands that you get pregnant for me every year. We had our fill of pizza, and you got a bit tipsy off of local brews. I love it, though, because you get handsy and horny and wet so easily.
Unfortunately, I still had to drive. I would have loved to have my hands all over you, too. When we left the party, you were already trying to grab at my thick cock straining against my jeans.
It was a long way down those winding country roads back to our house. In the meantime, you unzipped me and gave me the best road head I'd ever had. I loved feeling your warm, soft lips and your wet tongue on the thriving head if my shaft. The feeling if your warm, wet drool dripping down my length, feeling you struggle to fit your lips around my girth. Hearing you slurp and gag as you challenged yourself to take it all down your throat.
I almost wanted to pull over right there and either make you let me bust in your mouth, or drag you into the back seats and ream you out on the side of the road.
You whined when you had to pull off of me. I even almost crashed the car into the back wall of the garage I was so eager to get you to the bedroom. Alas, we never made it that far. With my cock still free and your panties left on the floor of the car, I immediately pinned you up against the door joining the kitchen to the garage the moment it closed. You gave a surprised but pleased yelp when I seized you and soun you around.
You obediently bent over just so, knowing your place and what's about to happen. All at once, I plunged my whole throbbing length into you with a wet, slick clap our your ass against my hips. You whales your pleasure into the rest of the dark house as I pulled almost all the way out, before slamming hard into you again. I felt myself bottoming out against your cervix. My fingers swiftly found your swollen clit, and delicately danced sound and rubbed it. My other hand still held fast to your wide hips, guiding you when you threw your big ass back against me.
It didn't take long for my breathing to become ragged, my grunts to get loud and guttural, and for me to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. "I'm gonna pound my big, fat babies into you tonight. Take my seed, Gloria. Get big n' pregnant for me. Show me you can be my good little breeding whore." I demand as I yank back on your hair and start pounding you harder and faster. "Take it. Take it! Give me a horde of big, strong sons!" You could do little more than mewl and howl before finally answering me as I'm about to cum in you. "Give it all to me! Make me huge! I want to bursting at the seams! Please, Arthur, baby! Please!" You screamed out an orgasm as I erupted inside you, pushing you hard into the door and pinning you there with my weight as I empty into your womb.
We shakily, sporadically twitch and move against each other as we came down from our high. I held you close in my arms, and you wrapped your arms around mine while I held you up. I kiss and nibble along your ear and your neck, murmuring my deep love and desire for you. Telling you how I could hardly wait to be a father, and I don't want anyone else to be the mother of our children. That you'd be so perfect for it, so sweet and kind and gentle. That you're an awesome wife who's so sexy. Your turn your head and smile brightly, warmly, your hand softly cupping my cheek. Eventually, I pull out and you moan at the emptiness.
"Come, my love. Let's get you pregnant somewhere more comfortable." I suggest, and you happily agree with a giggle and a smile. "Let's. I want to see how many times we can cum before we're too sore to move." There's a gleam in my eye, then. Challenge accepted. Let's make a baby, and have fun doing it.
That's how I'd knock you up.
👀👀👀
5 notes · View notes
hildred-rex · 43 years
Text
this pinned post is permanent now too...
Alright, the temporary blog image has grown on me. It's a cropped square from page 31 of A Collection of Emblemes, Ancient and Moderne (1635) by George Wither.
The header image is Monhegan, Maine (1922) by Nicholas Roerich. Everyone should go look at more Roerich artwork immediately; his are some of the most consistently beautiful paintings I've ever seen.
Anyway...
I'm:
Cinnamon or Hildred by name, accurately referred to with any pronoun set other than he/it.
@/voidblue on pronouns.page.
Generally, my thematic color is blue and not yellow, but it doesn't make sense for Hildred Castaigne to be blue. In fact, I think he'd be somewhat offended. This makes making this account look like me... somewhat difficult. (Update: I've given up entirely. This is Hildred's blog theme now. The Imperial Dynasty of America was secretly the Imperial Dynasty of Tumblr User @hildred-rex's Blog Theme.)
Under the readmore: a list of fandoms I partake in, more detail on my exploits in gothic literature, a noncomprehensive list of other things I've enjoyed, and a "last updated."
Fandoms:
gothic literature (predominantly horror) in general; this gets its own list lower down!
The League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk.
Arthur Machen (have not read everything yet!)
Dracula by Bram Stoker.
The King in Yellow by Robert W. Chambers.
The Parties are for Losers series by Ferry. (I don't want to give them a random notification for no reason, but they're nopanamaman on tumblr.)
The rest of Ferry's songs are also very good!
currently reading Homestuck due to a D&D campaign (I promise this makes sense in context)
[more when I remember them]
I decided a few years ago that Lovecraft was seminal to the cosmic horror genre and that therefore I should read all the fiction he ever wrote; to my recollection I've read everything listed on Wikisource except "The Street" and "The Rats in the Walls," provided it's extant. (Not sure this counts as a fandom?)
I'll have to come back and add a "music I enjoy" section later.
More on Gothic Literature:
(Listed = I've read it; bolded = I can probably do analysis of its characters; italicized = I don't remember it well; underlined = I really want to reread this and will when I have the time. Small is notes and commentary.)
This is only what I've dredged up from my brain at the moment and I have probably read more; this'll be updated as I read and/or think of stuff.
Dracula (1897) by Bram Stoker. (Curiously, I've never actually done Dracula Daily.)
The King in Yellow (1895) by Robert W. Chambers. (Bolding only goes for the weird stories, including "The Demoiselle d'Ys," and is strongest for "The Repairer of Reputations." I've found myself unable to get through a few of the romances & cannot make heads nor tails of "The Prophet's Paradise" except that it feels like someone accidentally published his sheet of idea-collection paper. Admittedly, because of that it makes a pretty good transition between the weird stories and the rest.)
The Three Impostors (1895) by Arthur Machen. (I utterly adore this book.)
Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1886) by Robert Louis Stevenson. (I really loved reading this one, but was very sad by the end. I had Opinions on most of the characters and will again when I reread.)
The Great God Pan (1890) by Arthur Machen.
The Inmost Light (1890) by the same author. (Hello Dyson!)
The Vampyre (1819) by John William Polidori.
The Shining Pyramid (1923) by Arthur Machen. (I didn't like this one when I last read it; Dyson felt off.)
The White People by Arthur Machen (has the most cursed name of anything ever).
Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus (1831, not yet 1818) by Mary Shelley.
The Red Hand (1895) by Arthur Machen.
[Am currently reading more Machen.]
Miscellaneous Things Enjoyed:
This time in alphabetical order.
The Anatomy of Tobacco by Arthur Machen. I feel I must clarify that it's a comedic work that I'd estimate to be of novella length. Reader beware, this book contains random untranslated and even untransliterated faux-Ancient Greek.
At the Mountains of Madness by H. P. Lovecraft.
The Case of Charles Dexter Ward by H. P. Lovecraft. It feels like reading a textbook with a central plot besides the advancement of history (and with a nicer writing style). Content warning for racism and off-handed mentions of the colonial American slave trade.
Fourteen by Peter Clines. This book gets in one's head and doesn't leave.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and its ensuing series, by Douglas Adams.
Last updated 2024-03-31, YYYY-MM-DD. Created sometime in late-ish November 2023. Edited 2023-12-07. Backdated to Louis Castaigne's birthday in a year that would make him 42 years old at the founding of this blog.
2 notes · View notes
pinkierre · 1 year
Text
I thought I'd make a little fic masterlist to pin to the top of my page
better latte than never (with @yukierres & @duquesademiel) piarles (f1) | 18.1k | G | 6/6
the five times Charles and Pierre shared a cup of coffee around the karting track and remembered the past, and the one time they thought of the future.
because, not despite wooyoung & seonghwa & hongjoong (ateez) | 2k | G | complete
“Am I a lot?” Wooyoung asks, his words barely audible. “Do I take up too much space?” He adds and Seonghwa has to strain his ears to make sure he hears it correctly. Seonghwa feels his heart breaking inside of his chest, yet he is simultaneously ready to mess up whoever had decided to put these thoughts in Wooyoung’s pretty little head. aka a trainee is mean to Wooyoung and Seonghwa & Hongjoong comfort him.
hold me like a grudge seongjoong (ateez) | 3.1k | M | complete
"He doesn’t expect a person falling through his doorway as soon as he opens his door." aka Seonghwa takes care of his neighbour Hongjoong after he crashes into his front door.
danger, destruction (piarles winter fic exchange) piarles (f1) | 6.7k | T | complete
Pierre Gasly doesn’t win the 2016 GP2 title, and thus he stays in the category for another year with Prema. He’s joined for the 2017 F2 season by his long time best friend and fresh GP3 champion Charles Leclerc. What starts as a dream come true, quickly turns into a nightmare. Fast forward 8 years later and they’re teammates again. At Ferrari F1 team. However this time, they hate each other. How will they cope?
on track to love (hallmark fest) piarles (f1) | 9.7k | T | complete
Charles sings and records songs in his bedroom, uploading them to his socials for the world see. One day, his videos show up for up and coming music producer Pierre. When Pierre flies out to get a signature on a record deal, he goes home with a lot more than he initially thought.
see life as a worthy opponent piarles (f1) | 2.9k | T | complete
"Aphrodite is shocked by the man who has just appeared, seemingly out of thin air. He’s… gorgeous. His hair is dark but has a golden gleam. The sharp edges of his facial structure are hidden by a neatly trimmed beard. His shoulders are about twice as wide as his hips. There’s muscles peeking through from the side of the exposing white toga he’s wearing. It’s entirely enticing. She wants him."
the anatomy of us (fantasy fest) piarles (f1) | 13.1k | T | 3/4
When his life at home doesn’t satisfy him anymore, Pierre boards a ship from Marseille, sailing into the open world. Charles is a terrified and lonely shifter, who loathes himself, and his shifter form, more than anything. The two meet through an unfortunate event. Can they help one another to find themselves?
Arthur piarles (f1) | 1.9k | T | complete
Arthur, Charles, and Pierre are on a flight to Melbourne. Charles and Pierre finally figured out their shit and they’re together…they just haven’t told Arthur yet. They’re hiding it - very poorly.
the most dangerous thing is to love (co-authored with @duquesademiel) piarles (f1) | 34.3k | M | 4/4
Pierre Gasly, F1 driver and the son of Apollo, manages to anger the goddess of love and beauty, and suffers the consequences.
Pierromeo & Charliet (Emoji Challenge) piarles (f1) | 2.8k | M | complete
Yes. This is exactly what you think it is.
Lorenzo piarles (f1) | 3.9k | M | complete
Lorenzo reflects upon the similarities between himself & Jules and Charles & Pierre. Until he sees the differences.
fuelling the fire until we combust (Piarles Winter Fic Exchange) piarles (f1) | 11.2k | T | complete
“Do you mind if I sit with you?” Charles looks up into the direction of the voice. His heart skips a beat when he realizes who’s standing right in front of him. The very gorgeous looking guy Charles has been staring at for months. And he’s waiting for a response.
if i pulled you closer, would you mind? georgierre (f1) | 1k | M | complete
All he could remember was George leaning in, his arm around Pierre’s neck, gripping his shoulder lightly, as he asked him to accompany him to the dance floor.
you're holding in your hands the two halves of my heart  piarles (f1) | 2.1k | T | 1/?
Prince Pierre feels the pressure to find a spouse, for his Kingdom's sake. Though nothing could have prepared him for what meeting Charles would entail.
use every fibre of my being just to keep me at bay piarles (f1) | 2.2k | T | complete
Pierre's roommate Max has a mortal enemy, and Pierre might have a bit of a crush on him.
14 notes · View notes
not-krys · 11 months
Text
[Repost] No Time-Thea
Tumblr media
Part of this WIP Wednesday set and slightly extended
Notes: Incomplete, Fluff
-----
Arthur leaned in the open doorway, watching the hem of Thea skirt dancing across the floor as she moved gracefully around her mannequin, sticking little pins in one place or another. She had taken a commission from a noble lady in town for a new dress. He didn't care much for the color (who knew dyes could make a shade that garishly eye-scaring), but his bird had been working hard to make it work, to please her client.
Except she had been at this dress for weeks now, longer than she would normally take for a dress like this. The client kept asking for changes, too many in his opinion. He could see Thea's eyes gaining some dark bags and her nimble fingers full of more pricks than he had seen as his time as a doctor with a syringe.
His bird needed a break, he could clearly see.
Nodding to himself, Arthur finally stepped into the room, slipping his arm around her when she took a step back to look at her work.
"The pins give it a real dangerous look," Arthur said, rubbing his chin. "Quite sharp. I kinda like it."
"The pins aren't supposed to be in the final product like that." Thea said flatly, but she wasn't pushing his arm off, already a good sign. "She's already asking for something different. A different cut."
She looked sadly at her scrap pile, already full of that god-awful colored fabric.
"There's no time to order more."
"More?" Arthur said incredulously, "You could make a full skirt and jacket just from that pile alone and have enough left over to make a matching purse!"
"If the patchwork look was in, maybe." Thea sighed.
Arthur tightened his grip on her shoulder.
"I say you put your foot down and say no more alterations."
"Arthur…"
"You can only work so fast and so much, luv." He kissed her cheek. "This close to the deadline and still asking for big changes? She's not respecting your time or talents. Not like you could do much with that fabric. I'm worried you'll go blind looking at it this long."
Thea laughed, smiling a little.
"Complimentary colors, my dear Arthur." Thea pointed at the little trimmings, indeed a softer and much more preferable color, dotting the awful abomination, making it slightly more bearable to look at. "I figured you'd pick up on it from Vincent and Theo, as much as you hang out with them."
"I'd rather learn about complimentary colors from you." He laid his head on her shoulder, "and don't think I didn't notice that reference to my work, you sneaky little minx."
Thea giggled, patting his head and smoothing his hair down.
"I was hoping you'd appreciate it."
"I don't.
"Too bad, I thought it was cute and clever."
6 notes · View notes
chipponius · 10 months
Text
Chiplord's (My) Official Cowboy Flag!
I decided to Google myself today, as one does, and a few pins from my Pinterest came up which prompted me to update my profile on it. While doing so I came across the elusive gender section, the options being male, female, or nonbinary (as expected). If you click nonbinary you get a blank to fill in with whatever you like, and I knew what I had to do... Anyway, I had to shit, so I went to the bathroom and I decided fuck it, I'mma make myself a cowboy flag, so I did. Worked on most of it while in the bathroom, but left out to do the hat because pins and needles was coming back full swing and I wasn't gonna deal with that for the third time. So, without further ado, I present to thee my official cowboy flag!
Tumblr media
If you're wondering what the colors mean, they're literally just supposed to look like a desert at sunset, so nothing deep like "ough, the orange represents my repressed desire to ride a horse" or anything like that. Just pretty colors that look well together. If you wanna read about my love of cowboys and where it all began, check out my Everskies blog post, which is apparently two years old already, damn 😭. Anyway, all you other cowboys out there feel free to use it for personal shenanigans I guess, just be courteous and credit me :3 I spent a lot of time on this. And I'd love to know if anyone decides to slap any cowboy characters in the center of it! (Stares at Cassidy Overwatch and Arthur RDR2) I might make a space alt since my mascot guy is a space cowboy and Spike Spiegel is a character that exists. Vash too, I think he counts... If I make the alt it'll be added here and this last paragraph'll cease to exist. (NOTE: As much as I like most posts to be in chronological order, this took top priority over all my old art repost I gotta do. I figure that I can just slap all my old art, or a good chunk of it, all in one post itself so it shouldn't bother me too much. That is all.)
2 notes · View notes
bluepastels29 · 2 years
Text
Skye Dickson (Numbuh 7)
Tumblr media
Figured I'd post Skye here too cause why not? I decided this is where I'll be posting most of her lore and backstory before sharing on anywhere else cause im kinda anxious due to it having a lot of angst (which im not that use to drawing yet ) so we'll see how it goes from here 😅 So yeah, this is an AU that is owned by both me and my friend and is named "The Skyleeverse". ❌️DO NOT COPY/CLAIM ANY OF THIS AS YOUR OWN. I WILL TAKE SERIOUS ACTION TOWARDS ANYONE WHO DOES.❌️
Name
Skye Dickson
Nickname(s)
Sky Queen (Numbuh 2), Wingnut (Numbuh 86), Robo-expert (herself)
Age
(Gen 1) 11
(Gen 2) 14
(Gen 3) 27
Gender
Female
Sexuality
Bisexual
Personality
Humorous, carefree, and sarcastic, Skye likes to crack jokes at any given moment to keep the mood lightened (much to her most of her sector's annoyance). She loves messing around with the adults and teenagers when fighting them, watching them fall for her tricks and small traps she leaves behind. Having an IQ of 140, Skye is quick to thinking up plans both for fighting and inventing. She can be cocky at times to where it gets the best of her and can easily catch her off guard. Whenever she feels down or stressed, she quickly masks it with her usual joking self and bottles up her feelings rather than talk to someone. She can be very protective of her friends and family, immediately jumping in to defend them of any danger. 
Strengths 
•Very sneaky when leaving traps such as mini paint bombs, trip wires, and marbles behind during a battle 
•A quick thinker for being in tight time situations 
•Is talented for inventing weapons and uses them to fight and help her team
•Is very optimistic and it's hard to wipe off her smile. She knows how to motivate her team after a failed mission to get then in higher spirits
•Her main combat style is air battles and can be a huge advantage for those who don't have any 2x4 air tech on them
•Her weredog form makes her weigh 180lbs more so it's easier to pin someone down or throw a powerful hit
Weaknesses 
•Skye sometimes has trouble controlling her anger which can end to really hurting someone or herself
•Skye tends to bottle up her emotions and mask it with her usual happy attitude until she eventually breaks down
•Can get too cocky when competing or just showing off and can be blind to everything around her from focusing too hard on her goal
•Her anxiety causes her to easily get overwhelmed and get in the way of finishing things
•Skye works best at night so she most likely stays up til dawn or up to a few days working on projects and making her act loopy and clumsy from tiredness 
KND OPERATIVE INFO
Numbuh
Numbuh 7
Occupation 
2x4 tech officer
Global Pilot
Weapon 
Mostly anything she invents
Sector
Sector V
Combat(1-10)
7-10
Intelligence(1-10)
10-10
Bravery(1-10)
8-10
Communication(1-10)
9-10
Other abilities
•When going into her weredog form, she is more agile and quick and has big paws to strike and pin someone down 
•Is talented at air battles but gets a bit carried away with ariel stunts
•Very agile in the air and uses her J.E.T.A.B.O.O.T.S to her advantage 
•Uses her surroundings to help with her hand-to-hand combat and to plan getaways 
RELATIONSHIPS
Family
Amelia Dickson/Mega Mom- She doesn't remember much of her mom during her time at the orphanage but heard from Chad and Brynlee that she can go a bit overboard when giving her kids affection and can be downright embarrassing when attending school plays,sports games, or around their friends. She found her to be pretty strict when it comes to school grades and keeping the house clean but overtime she started to step back a little when the sibs are in their mid teens.
Arthur Dickson/Destructo Dad- Her Dad is known as the fun parent who cracks a lot of Dad jokes, which Skye loves to join in on. She secretly gets along more with him than her mom and finds out they both act almost alike. Skye loves that she has a parent to talk to and be herself around (and to have a test subject for a few inventions)
Benjamin Beaumont- Its still a mystery for Skye never hearing about her uncle and only knows that he's mom's twin brother. Whenever Skye mentions him, Amelia instantly changes the subject or starts to get angry but either way it was weird. She asked her dad about it and he hesitantly mentions that Benjamin is a hermited inventor and that Ben and Amelia got into a huge fight when they were teens during their parents divorce and haven't spoke since. Nobody knows his whereabouts but assumes he still lives in France where he was born.
Chad Dickson- During when her memory of him was wiped, Skye saw Chad as an enemy and a traitor like everyone else in the KND. She would pull as many pranks on him when she got the chance, especially during the times she visited Brynlee. When getting her memories back, she instantly felt horrible and guilty for the way she treated her older brother and tried to find ways to make it up to him until he instantly forgave her. Their the type of siblings to constantly mess with each other and try to annoy the other (which Skye doesn't most of). They can count on each other whenever one of them gets into trouble and not to rat each other out to their parents. Chad is known to get overworked so Skye is the one to pry him away from studies or missions and make him take care of himself, same with Skye and staying up working on projects.
Brynlee Dickson- Even when losing her memories, the two instantly got along when reuniting in cadet training. Skye always begged Numbuh 1 to arrange both sectors to go on missions together, but unfortunately that's only for emergencies. When regaining their memories, they became even more inseparable and started taking back the time they were apart and filling it with more positive memories. Out of the two, Skye seems to be the most protective and sometimes even turning into a mother hen whenever Bryn gets injured during a mission or dealing with jerks. Like most twins, they know what the other is feeling and is in danger, also can unintentionally speak in unison. 
Jet Dickson- Skye and Jet been through a lot together and sadly know more about each other than their siblings. They can also be the type of siblings to bicker and get on each other's nerves but almost instantly make up like nothing happened. They both have ptsd from the orphanage with Jet having severe paranoia so when something is triggered they know how to calm the other down. They can sometimes get into dramatic arguments over the smallest things but its mostly fake and do it just to be funny. 
Friends/Allies
Numbuh 1/Nigel- Skye respects him as a leader and a sectormate. She admires his loyalty to the KND and his team, and knows to always count on him. Whenever they are the only two at the tree house or on a mission together, they usually go to the moonbase to hang out especially on meatball sub wensday. Sometimes people assume that their dating at first sight, but unfortunately Skye has feelings for Numbuh 2 and Nigel being with Lizzy (before the series ends) 
Numbuh 3- Despite the two having opposite personalities, they still got along really well. Skye doesn't mind playing tea parties with her but will only fill in if someone else won't to not hurt her feelings. Unlike Numbuh 4, Skye never acts rude around her or call her interests "cruddy" or "stupid" and instead tries to like things she likes to give them a chance and vice versa. 
 Numbuh 4- Skye is basically his partner in crime right next to Numbuh 2. They like causing trouble together and plan pranks on adults and teenagers. They work very well together in missions despite they usually attack first before planning. She usually forgets to think before acting when around him and becomes reckless and a lot more rowdy. 
Numbuh 5- Skye knows to come to her when she wants to chill out. She enjoys going on candy hunts and bringing back truck loads of candy for the team. At times they can get competitive with each other and have friendly challenges such as finding out who can eat more candy under a minute or a soda chugging challenge. They also share a similar incident involving weredogs have been bitten by one. 
Numbuh 60- Skye respects him as a higher rank than she is but also wants him to lighten up a little and drags him to have fun with either her siblings or with her sector. They are opposites between strict and workaholic to fun and laid-back which is why Skye usually gets on his nerves. Patton use to be awkward on dates with Brynlee and had Skye as a secret wing-girl until he got more confident with dating.
Numbuh 362- Highly looks up to her as the soopreme leader and greatly admires her leadership. When Rachel also started dating Brynlee, Skye was shocked at first but was really happy and supportive about the news.
Numbuh 86- Skye has a record for the times Fanny screamed her ears off for damaging global airships or crashing them into the moonbase. Skye gets on her bad side without meaning to, so she's one of the very few girls Numbuh 86 yells at. However, they got a chance to bond at Fanny's slumber party and officially became friends.
Antonio Fizzuras/ Ace the kid- Skye was a bit standoffish towards him from hearing about shooting down Numbuh 2's aircraft and disliked it whenever he was flirting with Numbuh 3. They became huge rivals and Ace seems to get Skye furious enough to want to challenge him to air battles. It takes a while for Skye to eventually start to warm up to him but they still remain extremely competitive with each other.
Dustin Rosewood- She became fond of Dustin when Chad introduced him as his boyfriend and thinks him and her brother make a good match. She loves how his cheerfulness is contagious and knows it makes Chad the happiest out of them. Skye also loves to make jokes about them followed by a few mature ones to annoy the hell out of Chad while Dustin hides his face in his hoodie.
Justin Cavallero- Use to see him as an enemy for being a teen ninja and despised him after finding out he was using Chad while they were dating. When he and Chad got back together and now in a poly relationship with Dustin, it took Skye a couple of months to fully trust him.
Enemies
Madame Rouge- Skye will forever hate her for separating her family and leaving scars on her and Jet. She sees Rouge as nothing but a heartless monster for her time at the orphanage, having severe ptsd whenever going near the place despite it now being abandoned. 
Natalie Keller- Skye saw her as a big nuisance during cadet training and picked a fight whenever Brynlee was being bullied by her. Was determined to score a higher rank than her to prove herself. 
Jacob/Numbuh 211- Skye always gets furious whenever she sees him, wanting to wipe the smug look on his face when bullying her sister and Sector V. She feels the need to defend those who ever interact with him, feeling a bit on edge. 
Love Interest(s)
Numbuh 2- Due to her huge crush on the flyboy, Skye is usually more loving towards him and will occasionally flirt by using pick up lines when no one else is around. The two share a love for jokes and aircraft, and usually go out for chilidogs. She loves his charming and kind nature and the fact that he easily makes her laugh. Although he tries to charm up other girls, She can thank Numbuh 5 for literally smacking him out of it. They love collaborating with each other when working on machines to test them out. 
BIO
On the night of her and her sister's 5th birthday, Skye along with her 3 year old brother, Jet, were taken from their house and woke up in what they were told was an orphanage, which was named Forever Home, with no memories of their family or even their last names. The lady who was running the place was named Rouge Adderson but strictly wanted to be addressed as Madame Rouge and lied to the two siblings informing that their parents were reported to have died and will now be residing at Forever Home until the age of 18. When Skye asked about her last name, Jet blurted out "Rocket" while pointing to a space rocket drawing on the wall, giving them their new names: Skye and Jet Rocket.
The next eight years were like a living hell for Skye having to deal with Madame Rouge's abuse and intense study sessions. Her arms and face were marked by scratches and tiny scars for having to receive discipline after standing up for her brother or making a small mistake. She also had a fresh injury on her left side going up a bit towards her rib after making the mistake of lashing out of anger towards Madame Rouge for striking Jet and got the feeling of claw like nails scrape across her side, which was intended to cross her face but missed when Skye tried to dodge. One night, Skye overheard her roommates planning an escape and took the opportunity for her and her brother to be apart of it, swearing not to tell anyone else along with agreeing to sneak them candy until they're free.
On the night of the escape, 8 year old Skye snuck out of the room with a now 6 year old Jet and sent him with the others while she checked if Madame Rouge was asleep. Madame Rouge was asleep and all looked according to plan until she remembered the box of necklaces inside Rouge's nightstand on the day Skye snooped inside to find more information about her parents and accidentally found the box instead. Quickly, Skye grabbed the box and left to meet up with the kids while hiding it underneath her pajama shirt. The leader of the escapist was a girl named Sarah and led them down into the basement to escape through a small window which was surrounded by kids Skye never seen before and wearing cooking pots, baking sheets, sand pales and other stuff to look like armor with numbers and the letters KND painted on their "helmets" and "chestplates".
 Despite meeting these strangers, Skye knew they were sent to help them escape. Before anyone could get away, the door slammed open and out flowed a number of security and women who Skye recognized a few who are her study tutors and lastly Madame Rouge, making the kids hearts stop while frozen in place while shielded by the KND operatives aiming their weapons. After Rouge furiously yelled out an order, a fight broke out and most of the operatives were took down from being outnumbered. Soon enough some of the escapists were captured as well, leaving Sarah, Skye, and Jet the only kids to fend for themselves. Sarah grabbed hold of both their hands and made a run for the open window with Rouge closing in. Jet was the first to go out and Skye followed behind only to look back and witness Sarah being captured. A KND air ship was waiting outside for them and were taken to the moonbase to be checked and treated for any injuries for their first moments of freedom.
2 years later, Skye, age 10, is now a member of Sector V with her codename, Numbuh 7, and worked alongside Numbuh 2 as a 2x4 tech officer and pilot. Jet, age 8½, wasn't assigned a Sector and is instead a floating operative as a detective and journalist and is sent to sectors when on detective duty. During the night they sleep in Skye's room at the treehouse ever since their escape and were well taken care of for staying 2 years in a treehouse. Skye also has a best friend, Brynlee Dickson/Numbuh 205, when in cadet training while still blocked by the truth of who she truly is. One summer, Numbuh 1-love was hosting a summer party at Sector J with every sector being invited. The summer party was only the beginning for them, being the most eventful summer of their lives.
 It wasn't until Madame Rouge started helping the adults make a mind control device that'll take down the entire kids next door, that all sectors were ordered by Numbuh 362 to station at Forever Home for a war between kids and adults. Chad tagged along with Skye, Bryn and Jet to help them in the fight while secretly calling some TND operatives to help on the sidelines. During the last days of summer, Madame Rouge was finally defeated and her body retreated into one of the necklaces, trapping her inside. Once she was contained, the necklace began to glow and got brighter by the second until releasing a red flash causing Skye,Jet,Brynlee, and Chad's eyes to flash between blue and red until finally ending at a bright blue before going back to normal. Slowly their memories start coming back, revealing the truth about them being long lost siblings to each other. After that the family catches up on lost time, slowly turning whole again.
Voice Claims
Young- Hayley Tju (voice of Marcy Wu from Amphibia)
Teen/Adult- Linda Cardellini (voice of Wendy from Gravity Falls)
-
Brynlee,Jacob, and Natalie belong to Emtem.xox on instagram
Skye,Jet,Benjamin,Dustin, and Madame Rouge belong to me
15 notes · View notes