Hi! I don't know how many people will see this, but I figured sending it here will give it a shot.
A few weeks ago, my dad got into a car accident. Luckily, everyone involved was uninjured, but my dad's car was badly damaged. We got a quote for about 24000 ZAR (about 1400 USD) to get it driveable again.
My family barely makes 15000 ZAR a month, so we'll be unable to reach the quota. This is the Back-A-Buddy link. If you are able to donate, every little bit can help. If you are unable to donate, please share this, as sharing/reposting will get more attention.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, have a wonderful day.
StopNCII.org is operated by the Revenge Porn Helpline which is part of SWGfL, a charity that believes that everyone should benefit from technology, free from harm. Founded in 2000, SWGfL works with a number of partners and stakeholders around the world to protect everyone online
I know I often write Arlecchino in a pretty sexualized light but the truth is that I think she is a much more complex character than people think her to be. She isn’t „Father“ or „the Knave“. That’s Peruere Snezhevna. And I think her own trauma is STRONGLY overlooked in this community.
The girl who grew up in an extremely toxic and abusive household. Who had to watch her best friend get beaten bloody by her own mother. Who had to take care of the wounds at six years old. Who asked little Clervie if that type of relationship ship was normal between them because she didn’t know any better, was never taught any better.
The girl who had to watch Crucabena give her misbehaving and disabled children to Dottore.
The girl who watched her siblings die from a very young age, who probably was forced to kill them so she could become the „King“ of Crucabenas game.
The girl who was taught by Mother that she is a cursed child, probably resulting in getting excluded by the other children of the Hearth.
The little girl who held funerals for her spiders.
The girl who suffers from night terrors and is plagued by the aftershadows of the people she killed or had to kill.
The girl who was left with no choice at 16 yo but to kill her best friend since it was the only way for her to ever get a taste of freedom.
The girl who worked herself over a year to the point of exhaustion so she could kill her only parental figure. At 17 years old.
The girl who got more likely forced into the position of „the Knave“, who was suddenly in charge of raising children younger than her or her age to become soldiers of the Fatui. Again, at 17/18 years old.
Her bones were still growing. Her brain was still developing. That was not an adult who was put into the position. That was a child.
The woman who put her differences with the doctor aside to create a solution for the children who wanted to leave the Fatui.
The woman who knows she can’t break the cycle of generational trauma, but is trying. That’s why she wants Lyney to take over when the time comes. She wants him to break the cycle.
And I think we often overlook how much a beautifully written character she is and how much trauma she actually carries around with her.
“Forgetting Something? ♡˖” BSD Men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚
╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol, Sigma
Warnings; I feel bad for writing this out, hardly proofread, kinda rushed, maybe ooc
Description; how do they react to you ignoring their 'i love you's?
A/n; hi chat. If I keep flopping I am going to sell my soul. Like, reblog, and comment on this I pray and plead and beg. I've been havin a rough time guys pls.
Osamu Dazai ★
"I'll be back soon, I love you." He said, grabbing his jacket. Instead of the usual response, all he got from you was silence. He raised a brow and cleared his throat while buttoning up his coat. "I said I'll be back soon, I love you." He says, this time emphasizing his words. You hummed, your nose still buried in the book that your boyfriend had so kindly borrowed from Kunikida to give to you. His mouth hung open slightly and he straightened his posture. "Do you want anything while I'm out?" Dazai asked, his hand lingering on the doorknob as he stalled. "Ehhh, not really. Thank you, though.'" You turned a page, kicking your feet back and forth slowly while you read. "Alright, back in a bit, I love you." He twisted the door handle and waited for you to reply, only to once again hear silence. He sighed in annoyance and walked back over to you, leaving the door agape. "I said I love you, say it back!" He takes the book out of your hands, tossing it to the side without letting you mark your place. "Hey-! I was reading that!" You say with a grin. He tsks and shakes his head playfully, leaning over you and essentially pinning you to the couch to kiss you. "Just say it back." He murmurs against your lips in between brief pecks to your face. "F-fine! I love you!" You finally get out while giggling. "Good, you had me thinking you had fallen out of love with me! Now I'm leaving for real, even though you made me not want to. I love you." He says before kissing your lips quickly and backing up to the door. "I love you too, Osa."
Chuuya Nakahara ★
"I'm headin' out, 'kay babe?" Chuuya quietly said, his voice just above a whisper in the dark bedroom. It was about 5:30 am, and you were still curled up under the blankets, grateful that you didn't have to leave until 7. "Mmmm.." you hummed and lifted your arm from under the blanket to give him a quick hug and kiss before he left. He cupped your cheek and ran his thumb acrossed your skin before he pulled away. "I love you." He says, standing back up. Instead of responding like usual, you just pulled your blanket back up to your shoulders. He stared down at you with his hands on his hips, waiting. "...are you done gettin' comfy yet?" He asks, helping you move the blanket around and essentially tucking you in. "Yeah, thanks Chuu." You murmur before you yawn and close your eyes. He continues to stand there before sighing and grabbing his jacket off the hook on the door. "Alright, see ya when I get home I guess." Slight annoyance was evident in his voice before you peeked open your eyes again. "Mkay, I love you too, have a good day at work." Chuuyas frown almost turned upside down immediately as he came to an abrupt stop. "Jeez, don't take so long to say that next time. Had me worried." You giggled, still curled up. "I will, I promise." And with that, Chuuya was off to work with a small grin plastered on his face and your simple 'i love you too' lingering in his heart longer than usual this morning.
Fyodor Dostoevsky ★
Fyodor had recently returned from his adventures in Europe, and even after a week passed, you still couldn't help but be overtly affectionate. You were almost sure that 'i love you' and 'i missed you' were your top phrases in the passed week. But what if you just didn't say it? You decided to indulge in your curiosity one evening while the two of you were in bed. He sat, propped up against his pillow, watching some documentary on the TV. You were cuddled up to his side and his arm was draped over your shoulders. Every now and again, he'd glance down at your nearly-asleep form, rubbing his hand on your shoulder and down your back. "Goodnight, moya lyubov, I love you.'" He leaned down to kiss your forehead, smiling as you open your eyes. He waited to hear you say it back, only to watch you close your eyes again. He felt a bit confused, raising an eyebrow. "Have you gotten everything out of your system and won't tell me you love me anymore?" He asks, retracting his arm from its place around you to his lap. "No, Fedya, m'sorry, I love you too. I just wanted to see what you'd do." You say, grabbing his arm and putting it around you yourself. He sighed. "what a stupid thing to to." He mumbles, continuing to hold you, but returning his attention to the documentary. "I love you, Fyodor, I promise." You mumble, kissing his side through his shirt. "Mhm, I love you too." You smiled contently and felt yourself slip off into a dreamy sleep, happy to know that he cared whether or not you say 'i love you' back.
Nikolai Gogol ★
Nikolai, like Fyodor, had ALSO just returned from his trip to Europe, except he was equally as all over you as you were him, not to say Fyodor isn't affectionate. Nikolai would cling to you every chance he got, always peppering your face with kisses and fiddling around with your fingers. "Ah, I'm still so happy to be home, y/n. I missed you so much while I was away! Not that I never knew before, but it really made me realize how much I love you." He says with a smile, sitting on your lap and hugging you, his cheek pressed against your shoulder. "Did it?" Your finger tips ghost over his back, leaving goosebumps in their wake as they go. "Yeah. I love you a lot." He says. A thought crossed your mind, what would he do if you didn't say you loved him back? Well, I guess we've gotta find out. "Mmmhm!" You hum, resting your head on top of his. "Did you hear me right?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, picking up his head to look at you. "Yeah, you said you love me." You say, looking back and forth between his eyes and lips. "So say it back." He says. You sigh and rub his hip. "If you insist, I love you too, Nikolai. I'm sorry." He grins and kisses your cheek. "That wasn't that hard, now was it?" You run your fingers through his long hair. "No, not at all." He sighs. "Don't let it happen again, or else I'll see to it that it's the laat time." He huffs, returning to his spot resting against your shoulder. You patted his back, slightly amused by his words- he clearly cared. "Alright, Kolya, I'm sorry."
Sigma ★
You almost knew what Sigmas reaction would be before you stopped yourself from responding to his 'I love you'. You had fixed some tea for him and were bringing it into his office, holding the cup and saucer steadily as the sounds of your footsteps echoed in the hall. You knocked on the door and entered once you heard his muffled voice through the thick wood. "I brought you tea." You say with a smile, approaching his desk and handing it to him, which he took appreciatively. "Thank you, y/n, I appreciate it." He gave you a smile. "I'd like to finish what I'm doing by this evening so we can have some time together, or else I'd keep you here to talk for a bit, so I'll just have to see you later. I love you." He said, already redirecting his attention to the papers in front of him. "Okay, that's fine." You turned to leave and as you got about half way to the door, his head shot up. "Are you upset?" He asks, his brows knitted together. "No, why?" You ask, turning to look at him over your shoulder. "You didn't say it back." He says, putting his pen down and starting to stand up, but you put your hands out to stop him. "Oh, no, I'm sorry- I don't know why I didn't, I love you too. I'll see you later, alright?" You blew him a kiss and exited his office, leaving him a bit confused but at least a little reassured. He sat back down at his office as you closed the door behind you, and you felt a bit guilty, but in the end, you were too busy being excited for your guy's time together that night.
A/n: I DIDNT FINISH THIS UNTIL 10 MINUTES AFTER POSTING TIME BUT UH I MADE A STRAW PAGE LINK IN DIRECTORY YAYAYAYYA
(Yandere William James Moriarty x Ballerina Reader) (feat. Platonic Yandere Louis James Moriarty and Albert James Moriarty)
inspired by this post about Williams with a historically accurate ballerina darling which was inspired by @yandere-wishes
A bit of background, during the 19th century, the ballet world, including the esteemed Paris Opera, operated under a disturbing norm of sexual exploitation. The company essentially functioned as a brothel, exploiting the vulnerability of impoverished young girls who aspired to become ballerinas. Malnourished and lacking support, these girls were often coerced into relationships with wealthy patrons, their only perceived avenue to a better life. These affluent men wielded their power to objectify and proposition the ballerinas both on and offstage, effectively creating a demeaning "men's club" atmosphere. Their influence extended beyond mere harassment, dictating who would rise to star roles and who would face dismissal from the ballet.
TW//pr*stitution, slightly graphic murder, work place abuse, implied human trafficking, kidnapping
You stepped out backstage as the performance finally ended, the applause of the audience fading away into the background as the chatter of your fellow dancers took over the sound of the back halls of the Royal Opera House. You yawned but quickly gasped as you felt arms wrap around your torso along with a high pitched giggle that you quickly placed as belonging to Sorelli, one of your friends and fellow dancers at the ballet.
“Seems like your new costume is fitting wonderfully.” She spoke with a melodic tone which made you roll your eyes as her arms slipped from your waist.
“It only took two weeks of complaints to the costuming department to get a new one.” You sighed as she came to walk next to you. You looked around the backstage, and it seemed like a few of the gentlemen from the audience had already made their way backstage, slipping away from their seats before the show had ended so they could have first pick of the ladies of the ballet. You glanced at Sorelli and she was doing the same, looking over the men present trying to pick out the ones who would be able to pay for her time. “Your rent is due, huh?”
“Yes, and I do not think my landlady will be willing to take a late payment this time around.” You were slightly tempted to stay and help her but looking over the people present you thought it better if you did not since you had already engaged in more unsavory activities the night prior and it seems like Sorelli recognized this as well since she leaned over to whisper in your ear. “You should head home before they come into the dressing rooms.”
“Will you be alright?” You asked and she nodded before pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Fine, but please promise me you will not go home with any of them, you remember what happened to Rosemary.”
“I promise, you have my word.”
With those words you scampered off to the dressing rooms to avoid any flings that may take place in there tonight. You managed to avoid many of the clientele on the way to the dressing rooms, only receiving a handful of comments and compliments that you responded to with false gratitude in your voice.
“I could not take my eyes off you this evening.”
“Thank you Earl, you are too kind.”
“The way your body moves was mesmerizing.”
“O-oh, thank you, my lord.”
“Ah why don’t you join us for drinks, I have a friend I would like to introduce you to.”
“Oh no thank you, perhaps another night.”
You clicked the dressing room door locked as you began to remove your pointe shoes and slip out of your costume, hanging it up on the rack by your name label on the wall and placing the shoes in a box underneath it. You made note of your worn down shoes, it had only been two weeks but it seems like you would need a new pair sooner than later, but to find ones that actually fit you would cost more money than you currently had so you would probably have to settle on some that were a side to big or small.
You sighed as you slipped on your scarf as you stepped out of the dressing room, closing the door behind you. You managed to spot Sorelli talking to two gentlemen, a viscount and earl you believe, in a doorway, it seems like she will be able to pay rent tonight. You slipped through the back halls of the opera house, ignoring the sounds from all around you as hard as they were to drown out.
You pushed open one of the back doors of the opera house that led into a back alley and the cold winter hair hit your skin like cold water washing away sweat from your hot skin after a summer’s day. You began your long walk home through the dark streets of London, the streets were still populated enough that no one would try anything but it did not stop you from feeling the heat of eyes burning into your skin. You picked up your pace ever so slightly as you felt it begin to drizzle, you did not wish to catch a cold in this weather, you did not have the money to pay for a doctor right now.
…and it seems you spoke too soon.
A carriage moved past you, the wheel driving through a puddle and the splash landed on you, soaking you to the bone with both water and mud. The carriage did not even stop when you saw the face of someone finally dressed peer out and completely ignored you, speeding down the street. You huffed and shook out your hands to get the freezing water off of them.
“Miss, are you alright- oh my you are soaking!” You heard a voice from behind you exclaimed. You turned around to see a young man with blond hair and scarlet red eyes, he was dressed in fine clothes, a noble it seemed, but his eyes were filled with worry for your freezing form. You watched as he stepped towards you, removing his own jacket to wrap around your shoulders. “What on earth are you doing out in this weather?”
“I could ask you the same thing, sir.” You replied as his gloved hands pulled the jacket tighter around your shaking form. “But I am fine, really, I was just on my way home.”
“Then please let me escort you home, you will catch a cold out in this weather .” He said and he gestured to the carriage across the way and you could see the silhouettes of two other men within. “I am sure my brothers would have no problem with a detour on the way home.”
Remember what happened to Rosemary.
Those words you spoke echoed in your mind as you thought of a response as the scarlet eyed man looked at you. You remember the cries of Sorelli when you found out what happened while you could only stand there, wide eyed, in shock. The photos that were published in the paper were horrific, but the truth was never written and went unspoken by the girls of the ballet. You suppose money can buy anything and everything, even silence.
“Are you alright over there, William?” A voice from one of the two men in the carriage pulled you back into reality. You turned your head to the carriage to see an attractive brown haired man who opened the door to call out to his brother.
“Yes, Miss (Name) here just seemed to be out of it for a moment.” He replied to the man who nodded at his response. The man you now knew as William turned to you once more, extending his hand out to you. “Shall we?”
“I… um….” What happened to Rosemary was a rare occurrence, right? These were not the same people you last saw here with, besides they did not seem to be regulars at the ballet, you would recognize them if they were, then William gave you his coat in the freezing cold, no one, let alone a noble, has ever done something like that for you. You set your own hand in his, feeling his larger fingers wrap around the back of your hand. “Yes, I will take you up on that offer.”
“Lovely.” He led you towards the carriage that had the door open from when the brown haired man called out. William braced your arm as you stepped up into the carriage, along with the assistance of the brown haired man who helped you up by offering you his hand.
You sat down across from the two other gentlemen in the carriage, the brown haired man and another blond haired man who looked almost identical to William besides the glasses he wore and the hair that seemed to cover a scar of sorts. You did not make eye contact with either of them despite the kind smiles they offered you as William said something to the driver before stepping in and sitting alongside you, his arm pressing against your shoulder that was covered by the jacket he had given you.
You felt the carriage begin to move as you just tried to remind yourself this was not going to end like Rosemary, they were just taking home, nothing else, you were perfectly safe, but what if-
“Miss (Name), are you alright? You look quite pale.” The voice of William stopped you from spiraling even deeper. You jumped at first but managed to regain your composure, but that did not go unnoticed by the three brothers.
“Y-yes, just caught up in my thoughts, apologies.” You responded and he hummed in response and you all were resolved to silence for a moment before you mustered up the courage to speak again. “What brings you to this side of the city, sir-“
“William James Moriarty, but please just call me William, and to answer your question, I was just attending a meeting with one of my clients.” He cut you off as you tried to remember his name. He extended his hand, gesturing to his two brothers, the blonde first and then the brunette. “These are my brothers, Louis and Albert.”
You pieced the names together in your mind…
…Louis James Moriarty.
…Albert James Moriarty.
You had heard the name of the brown haired man before, whispered in conversation of the nobles after shows at the ballet when you were hanging on one of their arms. You learned quite a lot when listening in to those conversations, gossip and dirty secrets kept in hushed tones among the nobility, and even a few names, the Earl you sat across from being one of them.
“Earl Moriarty, correct?” You asked and an almost embarrassed smile came across the man’s face.
“Yes, but how did you know?” He asked, a playful curiosity coming into his voice.
“I am a ballerina at the Royal Opera House.” You answer but not one of the brother’s expressions turned to one of shock, it is as if they already knew. “It is honestly surprising what you learn when the aristocracy get drunk and already have no filter around someone they already deem as insignificant- I should not have said that, apologies.”
“No need to apologize, I promise no one here will be offended.” William responded on Albert’s behalf with a small laugh, you glanced at Albert for confirmation and he nodded along with a smile. William’s red eyes fixed on you as your gaze went from Albert to him. “Now I am curious, what does a lady like you hear from such nobility?”
“Well mostly meaningless gossip, whose wives are having affairs with other men, failed business deals or scams, but currently the unknown Lord of Crime has caught the attention of the ton.” You looked at William as you spoke, unable to see the narrowing eyes of Albert and Louis as you did. “But I suppose none of it truly applies to me, just something to listen to in order to pass the time of the last few hours of the work day.”
“Hm, but would your day not end at the end of the performance?” You heard Louis chime in, finally hearing him speak. You shook your head no, your smiling fading ever so slightly. “How so?”
“One unfamiliar with the ballet may be surprised by what happens within those walls.” Your eyes fell down to your skirt, your gloved hands gripping the fabric of it as you spoke. “ It is not all as beautiful as it may seem after the show.”
You jumped a bit when you felt and saw William’s hand come to rest atop your own, his thumb running circles over your knuckles. Your eyes shot up to him and he offered you a comforting smile.
“It is alright, you can tell us.”
“You… you promise you will not tell a soul that I told you this.”
“You have our word, my dear.”
You hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Albert who nodded in agreement, then at Louis who also nodded in agreement, then back at William. He smiled down at you with those lovely scarlet red eyes and it felt like any hesitation melted away.
“Well… after shows many gentlemen of the aristocracy will come to… socialize with the female performers of the ballet.” Everyone’s attention and gazes were fixed on you as you began to explain. “Sometimes it is just harmless flirting with some conversation and drinks, other times it becomes a bit… more. But it pays, keeps a roof over my head and enough food on my plate so I don’t starve.”
“I see….” You did not notice the drop in William’s voice as he responded and pondered over what you just explained. “And I could imagine the money one would make if one was to go home with one of them for the evening.”
“That… that does not happen anymore, not since Rosemary.”
“Rosemary?”
“She was another ballerina at the opera like myself, I performed alongside her and her sister, Sorelli.” You responded to Louis, explaining who she was. “She was a kind lady, too kind for her own good. She went with some Baron after a performance, she told us that she would see us in the morning but that was a lie. Two weeks later, a shop owner, a tailor I think, found her body in the river, gutted like a fish.”
“That must have been horribly hard for you.” Albert was the first to respond after hearing your explanation.
“What I went through was nothing compared to what Sorelli went through. I remember her crying when we found out, it was after a performance and I had to drag her away to not start a scene, but you can’t blame her, the law enforcement did not even bother telling her until the death was published by the papers.” You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you recalled that horrible day, there was not even a funeral, just the grave marked when the body was identified. You had taken Sorelli to visit the grave and she was just broken. “But that is not the worst part, that man still goes to the ballet and even paid off the owner, every single girl there knows he did it but no one will say anything, not if they value their life.”
“I am sure they will receive their punishment in due time.” William spoke to you after a moment, his hand coming up from your hand that he held and up to your cheek to wipe away your salty tears. The leather felt warm against your cheek, from the heat between your hands. “I will see to it personally.”
“If only the world worked like that.”
The rest of the carriage ride was peaceful, a few more pleasantries exchanged here and there but soon enough you arrived outside of the apartment building you lived in. Like before, William helped you out of the carriage and as soon as your feet touched the ground he took your hand that he held and brought it up to his lips, kissing the back of it.
“It was a pleasure finally meeting you, Miss (Name).”
“It was a pleasure to meet you as well, William.”
He released your hand and you quickly made your way inside the warm apartment building and scurried up into your own one room apartment, it was not much but it was home. Your landlord finally repaired the ceiling so it would not leak during the rain and freeze you during the winter, but you still had to stuff whatever extra bedding you had in the window because it would never close all the way.
You went to remove your coat, only to find that you were still wearing William’s coat, you had forgotten to return it and he forgot to take it back. You sighed and peered out the window, the carriage was gone so you doubted you would be able to return it now so you simply decided to hand it up alongside your own clothes in the closet. As you were beginning to strip out of your wet clothes to change into a nightdress, you reflected on your conversation with the three brothers, they were so kind to you especially when you mentioned such a sour topic as murder. Then the way William looked at you, it was like he knew you better than any man alive, like those lovers who attend performances with one another and they gaze into each other’s eyes when the romantic music begins to swell…
You felt your breathing stop…
You pushed yourself to turn your head to gaze out the window once more…
Looking over the streets…
The other buildings…
The people that walked the streets and dwelled in these houses were nothing like the brothers, they were commoners and the Moriarty family was nobility, you should have no prior interactions with one another…
But how did they know your address without you telling him…
And how did he know your name…
You felt your stomach lurch at those thoughts…
Has he been watching you?
Were you going to end up like Rosemary?
—————————
A week had passed since your encounter with the Moriarty brothers and life carried on like it always had, minus the pocket knife you had bought off from one of the stagehands at the opera house. It was after another performance and you were going to go straight home with Sorelli tonight since she had begun walking you home due to your growing paranoia. You both had stepped into the dressing rooms and Sorelli immediately ran off to her own things and reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a box.
“Macarons!” She exclaimed as she opened the box and sat on the floor, gesturing for you to sit next to her. “Come on, I got these for both of us.”
“You are an actual angel, Sorelli.” You replied, going to sit down next to her, not caring about ruining your costume by sitting in it or eating in it, it was already old enough that it needed to be replaced.
“Well with all the stress you have had as of late, it was the least I could do.” She spoke as you both reached in to grab one and you brought it up to your lips-
“What are you two doing in here?!” You heard a voice angrily shout as the dressing room door slammed open. You both gasped as your eyes shot up to see the ballet mistress in the doorway. She stomped over to you two and you immediately stood up and fell silent. You felt her eyes look you two over, scanning over you like fire covering the room. “Eating and sitting in costume, do you even care for the things you are provided? Do you know how much these cost?”
“No madam.” You both said in unison like you had been taught, along with not making eye contact with the old hag out of fear.
“Well you better pay for the damages you caused.” She snapped at the two of you, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “I want the money for them before the opera house closes for the night, do you understand?”
“But madam, I-“
You were cut off with a sharp pain across the face as she stuck you.
“I did not ask for buts, do you understand girl?”
You had to bite back tears as you replied.
“Yes Madam.”
“Good, now fix your makeup, no man would want to be seen with a girl who looks like that.” She stated as she finally walked out the door and you finally broke, weeping in your hands. Everything has finally become too much for you. You felt Sorelli rub circles into your back.
“I hate that witch.” You muttered through your tears.
“Have to agree with you on that one.” Your fellow ballerina replied as she helped you stand up straight and wipe away your tears. “Why don’t we fix you up and we can deal with this together.”
“You are too sweet for your own good.”
Sorelli sat you down and began to do your make up again, cleaning up the tear stains on your cheeks and taking special care to hide away the red hand print that was forming on your skin. You sadly had to put the box of treats away to enjoy some other time since you did not wish to get caught again.
“I can take care of my hair, Sorelli.” You said as you picked up the brush from the vanity. “You can go on ahead, I think I will find that viscount that is here tonight.”
“Alright, see you at closing?”
“I will see you then.”
You watched as she scampered out of the dressing room and you began to brush through your hair in near silence minus the chatter and other noises from outside the dressing room walls. Sometimes with Sorelli it did not even seem like she had a sister, her name had become a warning among the dancers of the ballet so that is what Rosemary’s identity had melted into.
“You look lovely tonight.” Your eyes shot up into the mirror when you heard that voice and in the reflection of the glass you saw those same red eyes from that carriage ride once more, Williams was standing behind you and you did not even notice.
“Thank you… William.” He stepped towards you again, his feet clicking against the old wood floor. You felt his hand slip into your own, grabbing the brush you held and he took a strand of your hair and began brushing through it himself.
“You have been crying, your eyes are swollen under your makeup.” He stated this as a matter of fact and you could only nod as he brushed through a knot. “Now why do you stain your face with such tears? What is wrong, my dear?”
“Everything, everything is wrong.”
“Everything?”
“Yes, there is not a day I don’t imagine leaving this hell hole, but there is no day where I do because I have nowhere to go. The way they look at me and touch me, it feels like I am nothing but just something for their amusement.” You wrapped your arms around your shaking form as you tried to hold back your tears. “The sometimes it feels like Sorelli has all but forgotten what happened to Rosemary, she is in the ground now.”
“Oh you poor thing, I was in the audience tonight and I have to admit I noticed their looks as well, a terrible thing for you to go through.” He pulled a little harder as he combed through a tangle. “But as for your friend, I am sure she will come to terms with her grief in time, sometimes it just takes action in order to recover.”
“I just wish this all would go away, I want none of it, I just want to see this place burn up in smoke and flames.”
“Then your wish is my command.” Before you could question his words he spoke as he tied up your hair with a ribbon. He reached into his pocket and took out more than enough money to pay back the ballet mistress. “Why don’t you go home early, I am sure you need your rest after such a long day.”
“Thank you, William.”
After he left the dressing room, you scampered to get changed so you may go and find Sorelli. You made your way through the halls looking for her and you found her in the oddest of places with the oddest of people, you found her near the entrance to the storage cellars talking to.
“Lord Albert? Sorelli?” You called out to the duo who were talking, but they did not seem to share the same playful chatter as most others in the building did. Sorelli and the eldest Moriarty brother looked at you with a bit of surprise.
“Oh (Name), are you ready to go?” She asked, a false smile coming across her face.
“Um… yes, are you not coming?”
“Oh well, Lord Albert and I were just having the most interesting conversation.” She replied, gesturing to the man beside her. “I think I would like to talk to him a bit longer if you would like to head home.”
“Talking? About what?”
“Pyrotechnics.” Albert answered on her behalf and your gaze shifted to him. “Some theaters in the Americas and France are using them in their stage performances.”
“Sounds dangerous.” You replied and your eyes shifted back at her, you were about to say something, but sighed, deciding to let it go. “I am going to head home, I already paid both of our portions to the old hag so just head home when you are done.”
“I will.”
“Alright, see you tomorrow.” You turned on your heel and began walking down the hall, slowly…
You waited for a reply but all you got was a simple…
“Goodbye.”
—————————
“Fire at the Royal Opera House: Three Dead, Ten Casualties.”
That was the first headline you saw in the morning when you picked up this morning’s paper from a newsboy.
You threw up on the spot.
Apparently after the opera house closed last night, a candle fell over and ignited the whole building, or at least that was the most logical guess but the other part of it was a mystery. Two men were found with bullet holes in their heads in the rubble while a girl was simply found, most likely suffocated to death…
Sorelli…
Not only were you out of the job but your best friend was dead.
You raced to the scene immediately, your warm breath showing white fog in the cold as you ran through the streets of London like a mad woman. Then upon arriving at the sight, all that was left was the burnt ruins of the opera house. The sight was being contained by law enforcement since the ruins were still smoking and the sight was being investigated. You could see three bodies, covered in a black tarp in the the distance, two larger and one smaller…
Sorelli…
She did not deserve this…
No…
Please god no…
You must have stood in the street for hours, just staring at your friend’s dead body in shock…
Just like you did when Rosemary died…
You had to be told to go home by one of the officers since you looked exhausted, so you did.
Your mind just felt numb…
You felt dead…
Why…
Why…
Why…
You pushed yourself back inside your apartment building and your landlord who was reading the morning paper, the same edition as the one you bought, looked up at you.
“Someone is here to see you, I let him into your apartment.” You nodded at his statement and as you went to walk up stairs he spoke again. “Oh and rent is due by the end of the week.”
You gritted your teeth…
Selfish bastard…
He is literally reading about how you just lost your best friend and job and that is what he says.
You rolled your eyes and walked back upstairs, not even remembering the fact that you have a guest. You pushed open your already partially opened apartment door and you immediately dropped your keys and paper…
“William… what are you doing here?”
William James Moriarty sat on your bed, holding his coat he gave you that night in his hands. He looked up at you with a smile, but this time it did not feel kind, it felt almost wicked.
“I am here to take you home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, with the opera house burnt down I figured that you would be out of the job so the least I could do was provide you with a safe place to rest your head.” Your lips were slightly agape in shock when he said those words. He looked at you, a new pity coming into his eyes. “I am also here to extend my condolences for your loss.”
“Sorelli…”
“Yes, I am afraid so.” He nodded at your words as he stood up from the bed. “We tried to get her out before she got trapped in the flames, but she just would not listen.”
Your eyes went wide when he said those words and you felt your heart stop beating in your chest.
“What…”
“She told me to tell you to live for both her and Rosemary and told me to take care of you since she knew you would be quite grief stricken.” You felt your mind grow numb again in shock as he continued to speak. “She did it for you, she did not want to see you end up like her sister.”
“She… she did what?”
“Well she murdered both the owner of the opera house and the man who killed her sister.” You felt the bile building up in your throat as he began to explain again. “The fire… that was her idea, to burn it all away so you would never have to go back there.”
“Oh my god…”
“I know it must be a lot to take in, my dear.” You felt William’s ungloved hand come to rest against your check, raising your head up to look at him. “But I will be here to help you through it, my brothers as well. Louis already has your room prepared, and Albert was expressing to me at breakfast how happy you will be there-“
“Don’t touch me!”
You slapped his hand away, backing up towards your door. Your eyes were wide with both rage and fear.
“Dearest-“
“You are the Lord of Crime, aren’t you?” You cut him off, raising your eyes to look up at him. William’s smiling expression had all but disappeared at your words and instead was replaced by something darker. “You knowing my name, where I lived, it all makes sense, you were trying to kill those two men all along.”
“While you are not incorrect with your first guess, you are with your second.” He stepped towards you after you stepped back. “I was originally looking for someone to assist in the removal of those two men but when I was looking into you, you were just too pure to do such an act.”
“What… what are you on about?”
“You have been tossed around all your life, forced into this work by your mother and kicked out when you said you did not want to do it anymore. Then your ballet mistress, who abused you for even making a mistake. Then those men, who took advantage of you because of your weak state.” You were frozen as he finally stood before you again. “Did you even know that you were the next target of the man who killed Rosemary?”
“…no…”
“You were, and if it was not for me and your late friend, you would be dead.” The breath left your lungs as he spoke. You could barely process the feeling of him draping his coat over your shoulders, just like that night when you first met. “She told me to take care of you and who am I to refuse a request from a dying woman?”
You did not process anything after he spoke those words…
Not you being led downstairs by him…
Not him handing over your keys to the landlord…
Not him taking you outside…
Not him helping you into the carriage…
Not the carriage beginning to move as William placed a kiss upon your lips, just like all the men who have done that before….
The only thought that came into your mind came to you as William laid your head in his lap as you began to daze off into sleep…
please know that at any given moment Medjeh is occupying prime real estate in my brain as they perform an emotive interpretive dance based on the following artistic depiction:
Ok so I looked up Medjed, and apparently they look like that because they are supposed to be invisible but like, how exactly does one illustrate something that's invisible? So it's possible that the Egyptians, unsure of what else to, put a sheet over them to try and depict the fact that they're invisible in a way that could still be depicted.
So, with this in mind, since they are supposedly unable to perceived, one may wonder if they are Among Us as we speak.
Also note that, literally every other character in egyptian mythology and art is consistently painted en-profile.
everyone, from the slaves to the gods is en-profile.
But Medjed isnt,
Medjed is looking at the observer Always at the observer.
Medjed might be the first character in the narrative tradition to break the fourth wall. (its certainly the oldest I am aware of).
@probablyautism thnx for remembering the weirdest tumblrina on the planet. also can u explain to ur local grandma what she has to do(apologies are afoot)
@tothechaos will you print and eat the entire post? If so, here is a long joke. Don't choke:
A man obsessed with trains finally steals one and immediately crashes it, killing several people.
At the trial, the man is found guilty of multiple murders and sentenced to death.
Before he faces his sentence, he’s offered a last meal, and asks for a single banana, which is given to him.
The next day, he’s led to the electric chair. They strap him in, pull the switch, and... nothing happens.
There’s never been a failure before. But because you cannot punish a person twice for the same crime, the court is forced to let him go free.
Within a week’s time, naturally, the man, who is obsessed with trains, goes and steals another one.
He doesn’t care that he can’t drive it or that he failed catastrophically before; he is obsessed with trains and his only desire is to operate one. As before, he crashes it, and kills several people.
Again, he stands trial, and again, he is sentenced to death, showing no remorse, only delight that he got to operate the train.
His last meal request is a single banana. When he goes to the chair, the executioner pulls the switch, but nothing happens. He goes free again.
The train-obsessed maniac, once more on the loose, wastes no time in hijacking a train and crashing it.
His trial is speedy, because this has already happened twice, and he is sentenced to death.
They ask him what he’d like for his last meal. “A single banana,” he says.
“Oh, no you don’t, you son of a bitch. We’re on to you, now. We know all about your little banana trick, and you’re not escaping this time!”
The guards refuse his request, and instead serve him a standard last meal of steak, potatoes, and berry cobbler.
The next morning they strap him into the electric chair, pull the switch, and... nothing happens.
“Did you give him the banana?” demands the head guard.
“No, sir! He asked for the banana but we didn’t give it to him, we swear!” says one of the guards.
Turns out the banana had nothing to do with anything. He was just a really bad conductor.
Quick! Gordon Ramsey has tasked you to come up with a new recipe with a rather special ingredient: 'this trainwreck of a Tumblr post printed out on paper'. You don't have much time as the exquisite guest will enter the doors of your fancy establishment the moment this post hits 200k notes. Come up with a recipe. Please provide detailed instructions.
Bespoke 9 course meal meant to be enjoyed by @tothechaos
Foreword:
As tasked by the prolific Gordan Ramsey, this 9 Course endeavour will feature the post in its entirety segmented into 9 delightfully ornate, unreasonably complex yet delectably unparalleled dishes. In the following, we'll see how to prepare each of these dishes.
Course One
Dish name: 10k notes of Hubris
10k Notes of Hubris is a simple risotto with saffron infusion and forest mushrooms, topped with shavings of the top 9th piece of this post, printed in full colour, regular stock. Due to the nature of a 9 course setting, it is wise to start with a simpler dish.
Ingredients (serves four people):
1 teaspoon of saffron
300g carnaroli rice
50g extra virgin olive oil
20g butter
5g shallots
1l vegetable broth
parsley (to taste)
100g porcini mushrooms
80g portobello mushrooms
100g brown mushrooms
5g truffle oil
5g lemon peel and lemon juice
30g parmesan cheese
thyme (a dash)
5g garlic
A pinch of salt and pepper
The first 9th of this post, printed in full colour with regular stock.
Method:
In a saucepan, pour the oil and the chopped shallot(s), then add the rice and saffron and toast
Pour the broth a little at a time and cook slowly. Allow to cook before adding salt and black pepper. Stir in butter, grated parmesan cheese, chopped parsley, truffle oil, lemon juice and peel.
In a separate saucepan, cook the mushrooms with oil, garlic, thyme, salt and black pepper.
Presentation:
At the base of the dish pour the risotto, complete with forest mushrooms and basil leaves. Shave the printed top 9th of the post and sprinkle on top. Drizzle a dash of olive oil before serving.
The next dish and recipe of this 9 course meal, complete with the next 9th of the post printed and incorporated, will be presented by another chef.
i don't what's more wild to me, how much we are all working on giving someone ink poisoning or learning that @writing-prompt-s has @one-time-i-dreamt 's phone number
If you haven't read Varney, maybe because you for some reason think you don't have time to read a 28000 chapter penny dreadful from the 1840s with roughly one sentence per page and egregious comma abuse -
you are missing out. The plot is 100% batshit bonkers, all the characters behave like amnesiac muppets at the best of times, the author keeps dropping in the most frustrating digressions known to humankind ("hey all, didn't have time for a chapter this week but here's the pilot for another series I've been pitching"), we get the most pathetically out of shape vampire ever described, and best of all: If you write a paper on it for college your teacher will 100% not bother to read the actual book, and you can get away with almost anything
and also @antiquesfreaks are currently reading their way through it and now I'm known as That Weirdo In Headphones Who Doubles Over Snortlaughing In The Middle Of The Street
