#11.5 URG-I

[officialrailscales]

Our new Hardtop Mount for Surefire Pro Lights

Offset design offers 0.788” of fore/aft adjustment within its own 1-slot mounting footprint.

Compatible with our XOS-H series of Scales

Weighs less than the OEM M-LOK mount

- RS

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, part 11.5 [Rated E]

Optional smut continuation of part 11. Full chapter under the cut, click through at your own discretion. Read here on Ao3

[Warnings/Tags: very mild d/s dynamics (like. super mild, mentioning it just to be safe), unsafe sex, slightly possessive behavior (welcomed), rimming, anal fingering, anal sex, bottom!Steve/top!Eddie]

This is far from the first time Eddie’s had Steve spread out beneath him in bed.

This isn’t the first time he’s had him naked, skin flushed, chest heaving, lips parted and kiss-swollen, staring up at Eddie with bright, eager eyes – and god (or whoever else) willing, it won’t be the last.

But something about it still feels new.

There’s an awareness now – and understanding that this isn’t just his friend Steve, that they aren’t just here to have a good time, to make each other feel good and then part ways. The man beneath him is his, as much as Eddie belongs to him in turn; there’s something solid between them now, heavy and binding and comforting in its weight.

Eddie looks down at Steve with the knowledge that Steve wants to be with him, only with him, that Steve loves him and is letting Eddie love him in return, and Eddie wants to devour him.

So he gives into the urge.

Kneeling between Steve’s thighs, Eddie leans in and presses his lips to the soft spot just behind the hinge of Steve’s jaw, kissing and licking and nipping his way down the length of his neck. Steve is sighing with it when Eddie reaches the crook of his shoulder, where he opens his mouth and bites down on the thick muscle beneath his lips.

“Ah!” Steve hisses and jerks beneath Eddie, but the arm that comes up around Eddie’s back only pulls him closer.

Of all the many varied things they’ve done in bed together, this is the one thing Eddie had always wanted that he’d never indulged: biting, marking.

Steve hadn’t been his, he’d reasoned, so the right to leave hickeys and bitemarks hadn’t belonged to him. Now, though – now, Eddie eases up on the pressure of his teeth and instead seals his lips over the tender skin, sucking hard enough to bruise.

Beneath him, Steve practically whines, hooking one leg up over Eddie’s hips and pulling him closer, grinding up against him. Eddie moans, rocking into the feeling of Steve’s cock rubbing against his, hard and hot and beginning to bead with precome, and he finally releases Steve’s neck, licking over the bruise before he goes.

Ducking down, Eddie mouths his way across Steve’s collarbones, over his chest, and latches onto a patch of skin just over where he estimates Steve’s heart should be, scraping the spot with his teeth before he sets to sucking in another mark.

“Fuck, Eddie,” Steve hisses, all but squirming under Eddie now.

Eddie pulls away, kissing the already-purpling bruise he’s left before looking up at Steve, taking in the dark flush that’s starting to spread down his neck, the wet shine of his lips as he pants for air, and he grins.

“Gonna tell me what you want, sweetheart?” he asks.

Steve licks his lips, nodding. “I want to feel you – want you inside,” he says, low and rough. “Fuck me, Eddie.”

Eddie groans, the words going straight to his cock. He’d been pretty certain of the answer, but it doesn’t pay to assume; they don’t do this every time, and it isn’t as though they never switch it up (Eddie can remember the last time Steve had fucked him; his knees sliding across the sheets with Steve’s big hands curled around his hips, holding him in place as his cock split him open, the pace slow and deep, until Eddie had been all but drooling into the mattress and coming with barely more than a couple of tugs to his cock), but four times out of five, if they fuck, it’s Steve on the bottom.

They’d discovered together how sensitive he is, how he melts for just a couple of fingers inside of him, how he’ll practically scream if he’s fucked just right, how responsive he is if someone lays him back and doesn’t let him think.

Steve loves the feeling of being taken care of, of being filled and so obviously wanted, and Eddie– Eddie can’t think of a single damn thing better than the feeling of those thick thighs wrapped around his waist, shaking with the pleasure that Eddie is providing, or the sight of that strong back curved down in offering, waiting for Eddie to take him apart.

There’s nothing Eddie wants in the world as much as he wants to make Steve feel good right now, and he plans on pulling out every little thing he’s learned in the months they’d spent having—as Steve had said—a lot of sex in order to do just that.

“Anything you want, Steve,” Eddie croons – and he fucking means it. He scoots away and pats Steve’s hip before instructing him with a little twirl of his finger, “Over. On your knees, baby.”

While Steve twists on top of the covers, moving to obey, Eddie stretches for the bedside drawer, reaching in for the lube and condoms that are still right where he expects them to be, even though it’s been a couple of months since he’s had occasion to even be near them.

He turns back to find Steve waiting for him on his hands and knees, watching with anticipation, and Eddie shakes his head.

“Not quite what I meant,” he says, dropping the lube and condom on the bed before moving one hand to cup the back of Steve’s neck and press down gently. “Just your knees.”

And just like that, Steve goes down, shoulders braced on the bed, face half-buried in a pillow, allowing himself to be bent and molded to Eddie’s specifications, trusting Eddie to give him what he needs – and Eddie very much intends on delivering.

He presses a kiss to the base of Steve’s spine and runs his hands up the backs of his thighs, coming to cup his ass in his palms. He allows himself one indulgent squeeze to those soft handfuls before pressing his thumbs between Steve’s cheeks and spreading him open, exposing his tight, pink hole.

The breath Steve lets out is audible, sharp and anticipatory as Eddie leans in and blows a teasing stream of air over him before, with no further warning, he licks a thick stripe up from balls to tailbone.

“Unh-!” Steve sounds surprised, but the noise that comes from deep in his chest is no less pleasured for it. “Fuck, Eddie–”

Eddie hums and aims another broad lick right across Steve’s hole, and from there, the noises don’t stop. Eddie’s always loved eating Steve out for exactly this reason – it drives him crazy. He gets loud and squirmy and, if Eddie keeps at it long enough, teary and desperate. He’s so sensitive, so responsive, and Eddie fucking eats it up.

(So to say.)

He progresses from teasing strokes with the flat of his tongue to testing probes with the tip, and Steve answers him beautifully, pressing his ass back towards Eddie with a whine. Eddie obliges the unspoken request, sliding his tongue past the tight ring of muscle, and Steve shouts.

“Shit! Ah, ah–” He thrusts back, the arch of his spine curving deeper, hands fisting the comforter as he tries to get closer while Eddie fucks him with his tongue. “God, Eddie, please.”

Eddie wonders, not for the first time, if he could get Steve to come on his tongue alone, but now isn’t the time to find out. Instead, he pulls away to reach for the lube, ignoring the little sob of air Steve lets out as he goes; he’ll be back soon enough.

He drizzles some lube out into his hand, spreading it between his fingers and thumb, warming it just a little before he’s spreading Steve open with his dry hand and rubbing his thumb over his hole. He’s already a little puffy, flesh still wet from Eddie’s tongue, and he opens up beautifully, taking Eddie’s thumb all the way to the last knuckle with a long, low groan.

“God, look at you,” Eddie says, twisting his hand and feeling the silky heat against the pad of his thumb. “Take me so beautifully, it’s like I belong inside you.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods rapidly against the pillow. “God, yes, you – ohfuck!”

Eddie smirks as he hooks thumb inside of Steve and tugs, gently but inexorably stretching him wider, watching as Steve bucks back into the feeling. He ducks back down and shoves his tongue into the space he’s making for himself, and listens to Steve cry out.

Eventually, Eddie’s thumb is replaced by two fingers, and by the time he gets to three, Steve is all but sobbing, shifting restlessly as if his body can’t decide whether it wants to drive further into the pleasure or if it wants to escape Eddie and the relentless way he’s been stroking Steve’s prostate for the last minute.

“I’m – ‘m gonna – fuck, Eddie, fuck me, please,” Steve begs, legs shaking and hips canting towards Eddie still, like he just can’t help himself.

Gently, Eddie slides his fingers out, pressing another kiss to the tip of his tailbone as he goes. “Back over for me, sweetheart,” he says. “I wanna see your pretty face.”

“Starting… to feel like a dog,” Steve pants as he flops onto his side and then turns over onto his back, “the way you keep ordering me to roll over. Gonna tell me to sit and stay next?”

“Well, you are a very good boy,” Eddie says, smirking at the predictable catch in Steve’s breath, the way he goes absolutely still for a moment; if the flush high on his cheeks could get any darker, Eddie’s willing to bet it would right now, but the way his cock twitches hard against his belly gives him away all the same.

Eddie doesn’t push it today—it’s something they can have fun with later, with the many, many laters he hopes there will be—and instead reaches for the condom he’d abandoned to the side of the bed.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, watching Eddie’s hands. “Was there – was there ever anyone else? While we…?”

“Oh, fuck, no,” Eddie rushes to assure him, fumbling and nearly dropping the condom packet when he reaches for one of Steve’s hands and grips it tight. “No. I mean, Jesus, Steve, I had you – even if I didn’t quite understand how I had you, why would I have wanted anyone else then?”

Steve gives a little shrug. “I didn’t think– I mean, I hoped not, but I just– thought I’d ask. Because if there hasn’t been, then… you don’t really need that.” He nods at the condom, still clutched in Eddie’s free hand. “If– if you don’t want.”

“You–” Eddie breaks off, choked for a second by the feeling of pure arousal that rises up in his chest. “You want me to?”

Steve nods at whatever meaning he takes from Eddie’s half-formed question and sits up to cup a hand around the back of Eddie’s neck, pulling him into a kiss.

“Wanna feel you. Nothing between us,” he murmurs as they break apart. He kisses the corner of Eddie’s mouth, his cheek, and then leans in to speak quietly, right into his ear, “You can come inside me, if you want.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Eddie practically lunges for the lube, flipping the cap open with an urgency he usually tries to keep in check. “If I want. If I want, he says!”

Laughing, Steve falls back against the pillows, watching through half-lidded eyes with satisfaction. “I mean, it kinda looks like you do,” he teases, and Eddie manages a breathless laugh as he’s stroking himself with one lube-slick hand.

“You’ve convinced me, Steve,” he says, aiming for dry but still sounding eager.

He positions himself between Steve’s thighs, guiding his cock until the tip is resting snug against Steve’s hole, and they both breathe sharp with the anticipation. But instead of pushing immediately in, Eddie leans up, taking Steve’s mouth in a kiss, deep and slick and consuming.

“I love you,” he says before they’ve really even pulled apart.

Steve’s expression goes soft at that, eyes wide with something that sparks like wonder. “I love you, too,” he answers, and Eddie grins.

He hopes that even if Steve says it a thousand times, he never gets used to hearing it. He wants it to feel like the first time, every time.

Slowly, he pushes forward, his mouth falling open at the heat squeezing around the head of his cock. Oh, he’s missed this – he’d missed everything about Steve, of course he had, but fuck if he hasn’t missed the way his body welcomes him in, grips him tight like it never wants him to leave.

He’s missed Steve’s fingers digging little bruises into his arms or his shoulders, missed the way his hair frizzes out across the pillow as he tosses his head back, missed the almost feverish gleam in his eyes when he’s close to coming – Eddie’s missed it all, and when he finally sinks in to the hilt, it feels like coming home.

“Oh, fuck, Steve,” Eddie breathes, pausing with his hands braced on Steve’s hips, wondering how long he’s even going to last.

“Move,” Steve all but demands, the desperation that had abated during their brief conversation returning with a vengeance. “Fuck, Eddie, please move.”

And Eddie had promised him anything he wants – he’s not about to deny him now. He pulls back, sliding almost all the way out before shoving back in, hard and fast the way that’s always made Steve light up in the past, and Steve doesn’t disappoint.

“Yes!” His back arches, hips bucking up to meet Eddie’s thrust. “God, just like that, Eddie, fuck.”

And fuck Eddie does, setting an unrelenting pace that pushes sweet noise after sweet noise out of Steve’s throat, hitting Eddie’s ears like music, like Steve is the best instrument he’ll ever learn to play. He’s not sure he can keep it up for long, but he’s not sure he’ll have to; Steve looks at least as far gone as he is, if not even closer to orgasm after all the time Eddie spent opening him up.

“God, fucking – perfect,” Steve hisses, his hands coming down to cover Eddie’s where they rest on his hips. “Always feel so fucking good.”

The hands over his own make Eddie pause, fully sheathed inside of Steve, panting and still for a moment. Then he takes his hands from Steve’s hips and instead twines their fingers together, leaning forward so he can brace their joined hands on the bed on either side of Steve’s head.

Steve clutches tightly at Eddie, letting out a delighted little noise that turns into a full-chested moan when Eddie pulls out and thrusts back in.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, aiming for the same spot again and getting an even louder noise for his effort. “Right there, baby?”

“Yes,” Steve gasps, his legs coming up around Eddie’s waist, encouraging him to thrust in harder, deeper. “Fuck, yes, yes, yes–!”

Eddie’s cock throbs, balls drawing up as he fucks faster into Steve, his rhythm going a bit sloppy. “Gonna come, baby? Just like this? Just my cock inside you?” He’s not sure if he’s teasing or if he’s begging, trying to make sure Steve is as close to the edge as he is. “Or are you gonna wait for me? Wait ‘til I come, ‘til you can feel me hot and wet inside you, so you know you’re mine–”

Steve arches up and comes with a wail, his cock untouched between them, spilling messy and slick across his belly and chest, and Eddie is fucking helpless to do anything but come after him.

He keeps thrusting, keeps grinding up into Steve until Steve’s noises become overstimulated little whines and Eddie is feeling a little raw himself. Carefully, he slides out, glancing down just in time to see a trickle of white follow him, leaking slowly down the inside of Steve’s thigh, and he wishes he could be ready to go again right this minute.

In lieu of that, he flops half onto the mattress and half on top of Steve, peppering breathless kisses across his shoulder, across his neck, over the hickey Eddie had left that’s already a livid shade of magenta, up his jaw and over his cheek, until Steve turns his head and catches him in a kiss that keeps him still for a long moment.

“That was different,” Steve says quietly when they part. “I mean, it was good! It was great, it was just… it felt different.”

“Told you: you’re mine. And I’m yours. And now we’re both fully aware.” Eddie kisses Steve on the cheek, then pauses as he’s hit with a thought. “Oh damn, do you think we just made love or some shit?”

Steve snorts. “I’m not sure making love involves getting turned on by watching your own jizz leak out of my ass,” he says, in a tone that very much implies ‘don’t think I didn’t notice.’

“Boo, that sounds boring,” Eddie says, very much ignoring Steve’s tone. “How about we say that we fucked with love?”

“How about we don’t.”

“Amorous fucking.”

“No.”

“Sweet, sensual sodomy.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Steve laughs, crashing his mouth against Eddie’s in something that might have been a kiss if they hadn’t both been grinning. “I love you.”

“Yeah? I guess that works: We fucked, also we’re in love,” Eddie declares, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“I guess that works, yeah,” he says quietly, smiling, still, and finally–

Eddie feels like he got it right.

-

No tag list on this one because I didn't know for sure who'd be comfortable with it, sorry!

[deafsignifcantother]

if music be the food of love chapter 11.5

♥ here you go lovies, it’s series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven, chapter eight, chapter nine, chapter ten, chapter eleven, chapter twelve ♥ summary: just a softish moment between you and alastor, a small moment between the chaos and negativity being formed ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (now purely romance) ♥ word count: 600 ♥ pinterest board ' it has outfit inspo in it now ♥ notes: sorry i've been absent i was in rehab LMFAOO BUT HERE YOU GO YIPPIE LMFAOOOO WHILE I START CHAPTER 12 ♥ tags for this: @1crazychick369 @girlsonglasstables

He is humming. He's motivated. He's working towards something. You two lie on your back, and he rests on your stomach while he hums. You've fallen asleep, hand still laced through his hair from when you were petting him.

The only moment he stops humming is to take a breath.

He wants to hear you sing again.

His head bobs to the rhythm of your diaphragm.

A small voice, quiet like a ghost, gets sprinkled alongside your internal instruments. It's the sound of you. How lovely. In the light of the moment, his thoughts spin. No wonder he hasn't killed you yet.

.

"I can't sleep," you signed when you entered his room. He was lying on his bed, ankles crossed, eyebrows furrowed as he pretended to be busy with a book.

He peered up at you and freed a hand. "And you've decided to come into my room."

"Don't be like that," you gave him a weak smile, impossibly on edge from his blowup the other day. But he's still Alastor, your best friend, ally, and closest relation. "I'm laying next to you now."

"So blunt," he waves his hand, returning to his book, paying you no mind. When you hesitate to move, his eyes flicker back to you. "Hurry and get over here. I've got a book to read before bed."

You stare at the cover, the spine, the color of the pages, a hint at what he's so consumed with. It's nothing special. Is he that stressed over something? He's resorted to reading nonsense?

You go to him, crawling and laying down above the blanket, your head more on his lap than the pillow beside him. Your upper half is leaned perfectly against his thighs. This closeness, this comfort, it's all so familiar. It makes you forget the violence that's looming from him and the battle soon.

Alastor glances down at you, his smile widens. He tries to focus on the book again, but your weight on top of him makes it nearly impossible. He tries to ignore it, pretending that he is completely unbothered by your sweet pressure as he continues to scan the pages, but eventually can't help but let out a grumble. His fingers lift your head, and he tilts his neck to meet your crooked gaze.

"Are you really that comfortable?"

He's worried about your comfort. Or is he trying to get you to take a hint?

"Yes," you sign lazily. "Get over it."

You wrap your arm around his lap, nuzzling in to get more comfortable.

He continues, "how adorable, my little parasite, so soft for me."

"You let me stay," my hand is a tired wave.

Your teasing is weak, just a playful jest; a small smile is on your lips. Your eyes remain closed as I press your brow bone into the side of Alastor's thigh.

There's a moment of no movement. There's just a moment where the air between you two goes still, and his eyes remain locked on you. But then he puts a hand on your head, leaving it there. You fight the urge to peek open an eye. You are so grateful to be next to him, so adored. And then his pressure becomes harder, and suddenly, the hint is got. Maybe physical contact isn't what he wants right now. That's fine. Nothing bad about that.

You let out a small hum, giving in and falling to the side, using an actual pillow. Alastor felt a slight pang at your weight loss on his chest, but your new position was much less distracting. And a mere hour later, he put the book down and laid against you, allowing himself a moment of peace. Your touch isn't that bad after all. Oh, how he's missed being so calm next to you.

This is nice.

So why is he acting so harshly?

Especially when you sing with such a lovely, kind voice.

[justforbooks]

Jimmy Carter

US president whose subsequent decades of tireless humanitarian work brought him the Nobel peace prize

The former US president Jimmy Carter, who has died aged 100, achieved a far more favourable reputation after leaving the White House than he ever secured during his single term of office. Following his electoral defeat in 1980 – when Ronald Reagan beat him by 489 to 49 electoral college votes – his sustained efforts to improve life for the deprived people of the world won him the 2002 Nobel peace prize.

Carter left a mixed heritage from his presidential term. He put human rights firmly on the international agenda, persuaded Congress to cede US control of the Panama canal, demonstrated that peace settlements could be achieved in the Middle East, and completed the second strategic arms limitation treaty with the Soviet Union.

But he was not cut out for the White House. He became the 39th president because he was not Gerald Ford: he was ousted after one term not only because of his administration’s inept handling of the Iranian hostage crisis but because he was overwhelmed by the job.

Carter came into office faced with the continued economic aftermath of the Vietnam war. To meet its burgeoning costs, President Richard Nixon had abandoned the fixed international exchange rate agreed after the second world war and allowed the dollar to float. That immediately imported inflation into the US, exacerbated by the 1973 Yom Kippur war in the Middle East, which provoked Arab oil-exporting nations to quadruple the price of their oil. Carter arrived in Washington with inflation running at 7%. Within 18 months it had climbed to 11.3%.

Oil, which had been $20 a barrel, surged to $107. Carter’s response was to ask the US to curb its profligate use of energy. The plea fell on deaf ears. He then nominated Paul Volcker as chairman of the Federal Reserve Board to deal with the problem. Volcker arrived proclaiming that the US “could not inflate itself out of a recession” and embarked on a ferocious campaign to kill it. The interest figures tell the story: in June 1979 America’s prime rate was 11.5%, by November 15.5%, by March 1980 18.5% and by the end of that year it peaked at 21.5%. During his election campaign Carter had devised what he called the misery index, combining unemployment and inflation. It stood at 13.5 when he was elected. He left the White House with it at 19.9.

He eventually retrieved his reputation by founding the Carter Center in his home state of Georgia and embarking on a vast range of activities designed to defuse international conflict and to introduce democracy and a decent standard of life across the globe.

This took him to countries ranging from Zambia to Peru and from Sudan to Guyana, for such disparate projects as mediating in civil warfare, encouraging sustainable agricultural development, establishing a proper judicial system, or installing a clean water supply. He became a familiar figure at election counts around the globe, part of the international team that sought to ensure that where skulduggery could not be prevented, it was at least well publicised.

With the agreement of the Clinton administration, in 1994 Carter took up an invitation to visit Kim Il-Sung in Pyongyang, and out of their talks came the Agreed Framework, by which North Korea undertook to suspend its nuclear weapons programme in return for increased energy aid from the US. Initial progress was not sustained, and by 2003 relations between the two countries were openly hostile again. In 2008 he was criticised in the US and Israel for urging peace talks involving Syria and Hamas. In August 2010 he returned to North Korea to secure the release of a US citizen, Aijalon Gomes; he visited the country again in 2011, and six years later indicated his willingness to do so once more if called on.

Carter acknowledged that much of the energy he brought to the Carter Center had stemmed from the unexpected frustration of his presidential career. “I don’t think that if I had had two full terms in the White House, I would have launched so ambitious a new career. I would probably have become a professor and written some books.”

Born in Plains, Georgia, Jimmy (James) was the eldest of four children of Lillian (nee Gordy), a nurse, and James Carter, a peanut farmer. He planned a naval career, graduating from the US naval academy in 1946. Then he became involved in the design and development of nuclear power for ships, and later with training seamen to serve in them. This was apparently when he acquired his dogged interest in organisational and functional minutiae.

In 1953, however, the death of his father obliged him to resign his commission to take control of the family business. This sparked an interest in politics and, in 1962, he was elected a state senator. At the end of his four-year term, he ran unsuccessfully for the governorship of Georgia. In 1970 he was elected at his second attempt and began to plan his presidential campaign.

His ambitions coincided with the Watergate scandal and the enforced resignation of Nixon in August 1974. Ford, a Republican congressman from Michigan, had been hand-picked by the beleaguered incumbent as his successor. The electorate, initially neutral about the constitutional niceties of this procedure, erupted in fury when the newly sworn-in President Ford announced an unconditional pardon for his patron. The stage was thus set for Carter’s bid, on the basis that he did not belong to the Washington establishment and that he espoused the simple moral and religious values that the electorate was then seeking.

In the 1976 primaries he easily outpaced his Democratic rivals. But his presidential victory was uncomfortably narrow: he won only 23 of the 50 states and secured less than half the popular vote (excluding Washington DC). His arrival in the White House arose more through the quirks of the electoral college, where he predominated by 297 votes to Ford’s 240. His election showed plainly what became even more starkly evident as his term progressed: that support in the country was marginal and could be eroded by almost any setback. The honeymoon lasted long enough domestically to get the Panama canal treaties ratified in 1978 – no small achievement – and internationally to bring Israel and Egypt to a widely applauded peace settlement in 1979, brokered by Carter.

But the very nature of his electoral campaign quickly rebounded on him. He chose to emphasise the shift from previous administrations by appointing a group of inexperienced assistants to senior posts. Within a short space of time, his budget director, Bert Lance, was forced to resign amid allegations of impropriety – charges that sat ill with Carter’s repeated emphasis on probity. His chief of staff, Hamilton Jordan, became notorious for his poor handling of influential figures on Capitol Hill, a vital factor for any administration, but even more critical in the post-Vietnam, post-Watergate climate in Washington.

Congress, in its own eyes, had been bulldozed into the expansion of the Vietnam war by Lyndon Johnson, grossly affronted by Nixon’s constant claims of executive privilege and eventually by his illegalities, and circumnavigated by Ford’s accession. It had fettered the White House with the War Powers resolution of 1973 and came within a whisker of impeaching the president. It was singularly unimpressed by the arrival of a man whose experience was as a one-term southern governor.

It might have been easier had Carter arrived with a clear political agenda, but he seemed geared to the politics of symbolism rather than substance. In an effort to focus his compatriots’ attention on their profligate use of energy, he addressed the nation wearing a woollen cardigan, which simply drowned the message in derision. His national energy policy was barely recognisable by the time it emerged from Congress.

The international community also found itself with problems caused by the amateurism of the White House. Within six months of taking office, Carter requested funds to develop neutron warheads for missiles deployed in Europe, particularly West Germany. There had been no consultations within Nato, and a row erupted in Europe. The Dutch defence minister resigned and Chancellor Helmut Schmidt of West Germany, faced with demonstrations and parliamentary dissent, publicly dissociated himself from the move. The furore continued for months, until Carter suddenly announced that he had abandoned the idea, having exposed serious rifts within the Atlantic alliance to no useful end.

In spite of alarming the Kremlin with unsignalled proposals for huge cuts in strategic weapons (later abandoned), his administration did manage to negotiate the Salt II (strategic arms limitation talks) agreement, a complex, phased programme of strategic disarmament. But it aroused deep suspicions in the Senate, which had little liking for the president anyway, and the treaty was consequently never ratified.

By now it had become evident to the country that its chief executive was becoming impotent through his insistence on bogging himself down in detail to the extent that he even insisted on drawing up the playing rota for the White House tennis courts. With his popularity waning steeply, particularly after a disastrous television address in which he seemed to saddle the nation with his own uncertainties, Carter was hit by the twin crises that doomed his presidency – the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan and the fall of the shah of Iran.

Long after he left office, it emerged that much of the blame for the Afghan crisis could, in fact, be laid at his door. In February 1979 the US ambassador in Kabul, Adolph Dubs, was kidnapped and died in a botched rescue attempt by the local police. The Soviet Union was alleged to have been behind the kidnapping and, in retaliation, Carter signed a secret directive on 3 July 1979, authorising the CIA to fund and arm Muslim opponents to the Kabul regime, which the Soviet Union supported.

This decision was later described by Carter’s national security adviser, Zbigniew Brzezinski, as “giving the Soviet Union its own Vietnam”. Its consequences, including the rise of the Taliban, have clanked unpredictably through the ensuing decades. As US-funded fighting spread rapidly across Afghanistan, the Kabul regime tottered and Moscow decided that the only answer to the destabilisation of its strategically vital southern border was to invade.

Carter, already in deep trouble over the fall of the shah, responded to the Soviet invasion by shooting himself in the foot. With domestic political attention focused on the impending 1980 presidential campaign, he announced an embargo on a portion of US grain exports to the Soviet Union, the prime victims of which were America’s midwestern farmers rather than the USSR.

He did manage to see off the internal party challenge of Senator Edward Kennedy, but slipped badly in the broader race for re-election. He had been unlucky in inheriting the brewing Iranian crisis, but he handled that no better. The shah was entirely the creature of successive US administrations. It was, therefore, self-evident that the dethroned monarch would turn to his patrons in his final crisis and that, conversely, the new Iranian regime would stoke the anti-Americanism built up by his autocratic reign.

The US embassy in Tehran sent repeated warnings of the likely Iranian reaction if the terminally ill shah was allowed into the US, but they were ignored by the White House. Within three weeks of his arrival for medical treatment, the embassy had been seized and 53 of its staff held hostage. A bad situation was made far worse by an ill-conceived and ultimately disastrous attempt to mount a rescue operation. Its chances of success were always slight and were wholly nullified by the combination of equipment failures and excessive interference from above.

Had Carter been held in greater confidence by his countrymen, they might have had more sympathy for his dilemma. He had nothing to bargain with, and it became evident that for��Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, the fundamentalist Shia cleric who had overthrown the shah, the crisis had become a personal contest. He released the American hostages only at the moment when Carter was succeeded by Reagan.

Carter’s political ambition far outreached his experience or capacity, but his brief sojourn in the Oval office at least gave him the international standing to carry out the humanitarian work for which he will probably be best remembered. With his wife, Rosalynn (nee Smith), whom he married in 1946, he visited more than 140 countries.

He wrote 30 books, including A Call to Action (2014), which addressed discrimination and violence against women, and A Full Life: Reflections at Ninety (2015). Having turned 100 last October, he fulfilled his aim of voting in the presidential election.

Rosalynn died in November 2023. He is survived by their four children, Amy, Jack, Chip and Jeff, 11 grandchildren and 14 great-grandchildren.

🔔 James Earl Carter, politician, born 1 October 1924; died 29 December 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[goatsludge]

The "FDE A2" Project taught me a lot about what I wanted to get out of a "General Purpose" AR, so in my usual fashion, I've once again started another upper build -

Everything so far:

BCM M4 Flat Top 'DEMO' Upper

JSE Surplus Teardrop FA

Magpul Enhanced Ejection Port Cover

Badger Creek Ordnance Gen.3 Ambi Charging Handle, Tan

Centurion Midlength 14.5" CHF/CL Lightweight Profile Barrel w/ Tabbed/Pinned Gas Block

Forward Controls Design 3P15 Flash Hider w/ Thread Protector

Geissele Mk8 Super Modular Rail, 13.5", DDC

SIG Romeo5 w/ Scalarworks 1.93" LEAP/01 Mount (belongs to @bureau-of-mines, borrowing it for a quick pic cause I think it looks better on this build than my EOTech)

EvolutionGear IS-EG NGAL

Surefire M640DF Scout Pro w/ Z-Bolt Dual Function Tailcap, Tan (will likely change this to an M640V later)

Somogear Knock-off Modbutton Lite Switches

Magpul Wire Control Kit, FDE

Edgar Sherman Designs Sling (AOR-1) w/ BCM 1" QD Swivel

The philosophy is that this build won't be as optimized for night vision/suppressor use as the 11.5", but it's set up to readily accommodate it. I want a rifle that pushes out a little further day or night but remains light and maneuverable.

Basically a walmart great value URG-I.

Since I now have the rail estate for it, I moved my light to the inboard side of the gun - this allows more of the beam to shine straight ahead of me and plus I can now access the clicky button on the tailcap with my thumb without having to rotate the entire gun out of aim.

Why have the modbutton if I can reach the tailcap now? Redundancies, my child; should the somo modbutton ever go bad, I have a backup solution. Same reason the laser has a fire button on top, but I'm using a modbutton with that as well.

On top of all this, having the modbutton cables protruding in towards me helps further shield them from potential wear and abrasion.

Things to be added later:

BCM Gunfighter Vertical Foregrip, Mod.3 (MLOK), FDE (should hopefully get it later this week)

Aimpoint T2 Micro (or another SIG Romeo 5. I'm not made of money lol)

KAK K-Spec Enhanced BCG, Downward Venting, NP3 Finish (if they ever restock...)

Surefire M640 Body w/ KM2-C Head (to let me transplant the M640DF body/head to the FDE A2 build and have a positive shutoff for this build)

Suppressor of some form or another (goal is a YHM T3 Turbo, but we'll see what I get)

[batshikns]

Check-up List #42

Daily To-Do's:

-Got to school with in a tolerable mood: N/A

(Got up in a tolerable mood: ✔️)

-Laughed and made someone laugh today: ✔️

-Didn't get/make someone mad/upset: ❌️

-Got home in a tolerable mood: N/A

(Went to bed in a tolerable mood: ✔️)

-Showered: ✔️ (highscore: 16) (1)

-Took a walk: ❌️

-Planning to go to bed soon: ✔️

-Eat breakfast: ✔️

-Eat lunch: ✔️(?)

-Eat dinner: ✔️(?)

Today's To-Do's:

-Drink water: ✔️

-Play Tomodachi Life and Tomodachi Collection: ✔️

-Work on big 100 follower piece: ❌️

-Smile a bit more!: ✔️

Overall:

11/14

+ XP: Check-in with Dad and Pop: ❌️

+ 2× XP: Spend less time on the computer(phone): ❌️

+ 0.5 × XP: Check-in with Unofficial Uncle: ✔️

11.5/14

Notes:

I finally was able to take a shower... Played more Tomodachi Life and Collections...

Pretty sure I had an episode and what are the symptoms for adhd and bpd.

Talked with Unofficial Uncle and got him to test out the rp server... (pretty proud at how it's turning out).

I get to go to the Upper Peninsula(Michigan) friday and! I miss it! I need some time away from home(and thereby the computer and phone(hopfully))! the only downside is that it'll be with my grandma, and sometimes she's not the greatest(but i still love her and she decided to take time out of her day to drive me up to the Upper Peninsula).

Goals:

-Drink water

-Tolerate school

-Work on Big 100 follower artpiece (more!)

-Smile a bit more!!

-Keep in mind that you're trying, even if Mom, Dad, or even yourself don't realize it yet and urge you to speed up the process

-Extra points: Check-in with Dad and Pop

-Double extra points: Spend less time on the computer(phone)

-Extra 0.5 points: researchers more about Buddhism!!

-Extra 0.5 points: check-in on Uncle(if/when he's open)

[vespersposts]

In ratio

Hi lovelies 🌟 ,

today I’m happy to celebrate an important milestone for Lily @yeosatinyngz with her event “Lights! Camera ! Action! ” which brings our best boys to glamour.

✨ Well done Lily, congratulations on 1K !✨

To celebrate you, I put my sweetheart Daiki to the test with the fashion world, because he admittedly dresses in the dark.

👨‍🎤 (sorry, not sorry D).

📍If you are curious of the final look of Aomine, here’s the reference .

(*major sigh*). I’m the same old, and the story, sfw, is a bit long (3.1K), but it’s divided into two parts so it’s easier to read.

Hope you enjoy it!

Love always,

Vesper.

💣 PS: I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes, English is not my first language (bear with me!).

➿Genre: fluff, slice of life, one shot.

🌀 3.1K

✴️A big thanks to Lily for her support and her patience, she gave me the best feedbacks and is one of the kindest person on earth!

⚠ the story was extensively revised because it contained grammatical errors and the point of view was confused. I am sorry for only being able to do this now. Thank you for your patience ⚠

“Here’s my self-birthday present ” your boss tells , sitting down next to you, as from your computer you open an email with the directions for the next photo shoot, which you are in charge of styling.

“Pretty hot, huh?” he comments, as you quickly scroll from the picture through the details sheet.

“He’s tall, if he has weird proportions it would be a huge problem, all the men’s suits this year have cropped lengths and … Wait…” you reply, scrolling through the requests up to that number “I have to contact the magazine again, there must be a typo, who wears a size 11.5 shoe?” you ask as you press the reply button under his amused gaze.

"What?” you ask, leaning back and looking at the man’s face on which a wry expression breaks out.

“Someone who plays basketball, how do you never know anything about anything?” he mocks you, taking his phone in his hands to show you the young man’s face once again, this time in a news video where he was being handed an award for best - whatever - .

“So, do you like my own birthday present ?” he urges you with a smile.

“ I do ” you admit “At least seems in ratio” you conclude with a sigh of relief.

A few blocks away, the day of the young Japanese basketball talent had also started uphill. He saw the pink haired girl sigh, standard premonitory sign of an incoming scolding.

“I don’t have to , right?” he blurted, taking the last forkful of the choco omelette he ordered for breakfast, now that he was in town for a series of interviews after the crazy week of the draft.

“Dai-chan…” she got serious, taking a sip of coffee, just to keep from screaming in the middle of the luxurious hotel’s breakfast room.

“Satsuki” he replied with a polite nod, before finding a paper under his nose with his signature on the bottom, the same paper he hadn’t read, and which imposed a series of side engagements on him, including the interview with that posh magazine.

“ What the -” he huffed, pushing the document away, returning the smile to his manager who, not satisfied with that victory, had submitted another list to him.

“ More?” he grumbled, scrolling through a list of ‘recommendations’ that sounded more like a prank.

 "What does 'seamless underwear’ mean ?“ he asked his childhood friend, who in response shrugged, pretending not to know. 

"When would this be?” he shot back, resting his face on his hand.

“Tomorrow morning, we have to be at the photo studio at 10. I managed to get the interview just before the photos, so hopefully  it will be a quick one ” she informed him, checking the schedule from her tablet “ Just… Please, try to be nice, you know how much the team sponsor values it!” she sighs, probably grateful to be able to finish her breakfast in peace.

At the conference room of the luxurious apartment building where the photo studio is located, a young man’s eyes look at you with a mixture of boredom and distress. Adrian, the photographer, is a nice guy, but he really can’t take any more of your leader’s mood boards and his tropical-sexual fantasy, with which he has been butchering everyone’s ears since the beginning of the week. The idea is dull as well as corny, but no one as usual dares to open their mouths because ’ the boss cannot be questioned’ . Too bad, you can’t take it any more, because a misstep from him would mean compromising your career as well, and that mustn’t happen, not at least until you actually have a career. As you write down the codes of dresses  worthy of the Rio de Janeiro carnival, you can’t help but think that it will be a bloody mess. Your client will go from being a sports icon to a laughing stock, assuming that once he sees the garments, he doesn’t decide to drop everything and leave you to deal with all the madness.

“With the red one from the spring/summer collection we’re done! ” the boss smiles at you, drumming his fingers on the long conference room table, increasing the pace until he has your full attention again.

“Spit it out” he tells, inviting you to take a seat next to him.

“ I don’t like it at all ” you sum up simply, not moving your eyes from his, now staring at you with interest. "He’s already flashy:  tall, huge and full of muscles. If we dress him up like a crazed rainbow, he will look even more trashy” you explain, shaking your head.

“You don’t like the vibe, you don’t like the model…Do you have a proposal, besides all these complaints?” the chief, who strangely seems to be amused, asks you seriously.

“Y-yes..Here” you tell him, opening a shared folder on his cloud account.

“I see. Your bright idea is to dress him as an accountant ” the man sneers at you, lazily flipping the preview of your selection with a finger.

“No, Phil. My way is to contrast his powerful silhouette with minimalism. I will dress him up as the most detached, filthy and unavailable man of power. That will turn him into a  sex God,  instead of a parade clown!” you reply piquantly, eliciting his hilarity.

He laughs out loud, probably at you and your impending dismissal, he laughs to the point of tears as he puts his hand on yours, and makes you jump in your chair.

“Good girl, you’ve finally learned my favourite worlds: filth,sex and power! ” he tells you with a hint of pride, flipping back your lookbook , flagging three tailored suits different only by colour.

“All right girl, you got me. Go ahead and deliver me your fucking sex God!” he smiles.

It’s nine o'clock in the morning, the morning after that briefing. You’ve been up since the night before, and all you’ve thought about since then, is what could go wrong.

“Can I help you?" someone offers, breaking your overflow.

Of that voice you can only say two things: that it is definitely a woman’s and that she is probably a foreigner, judging by her strange accent. It matters little if you cannot see her, because you have decided to bring the three outfits for your model yourself.

"Could you hold the lift door open for me, please?” you ask, getting an affirmative answer and a remark about the bulkiness of your load.

“I hope they won’t wrinkle, only I can be stupid enough not to take a coat hanger!” you grumble, oblivious to the girl’s presence, until she appreciates the brand of one of them, and you start talking about your next job.

“I know he’s a basketball player and everyone’s crazy about him, but he’ll be the typical freak with a bad ass temper ” you huff, as the lift stops just below your floor and you hear Adrian’s voice. You thank your lucky stars, and immediately ask him to help you with your load, and when your eyes intercept your lift companion, you smile at her in fascination. A beautiful girl, with long hair gathered in a braid that goes around her head and and a so sweet expression on her face, that looks like a fairy. She’s petite, but well shaped, tiny but with delicious curves.

She must definitely be some kind of model.

“Satsuki Momoi. I’m Daiki Aomine’s manager” she introduces herself simply, shaking your hand with a friendly smile on her cute face.

You reciprocate the introduction and give thanks that you have arrived at your destination, so that you have an excuse to disappear behind Adrian, and forget the bad impression you just made.

Or maybe you’ll have to apologise.

She follows you, standing behind you in silence, eyes wide.

“They’re amazing suits, but he’ll hate all three of them” she tells you, as soon as you’ve finished arranging the outfits on the rack. “You are absolutely right about one thing: he lacks patience. Just don’t take his word for it, Dai-chan loves to bitch, it’s his way of getting attention. Don’t mind him too much, don’t fight him, or he’ll bite back. Follow my advice and you’ll see, it’ll be easier than you think. I think he’ll gladly let you do whatever you want, seeing how pretty you are. “ she smiles sincerely smugly, perhaps not realising that she actually insulted you. 

You’re about to point out to her, but she grabs her mobile phone and starts ranting in a language impossible to understand. The breaking news, translated shortly afterwards, reports that the man of the hour is late, because he overslept. 

Great, you are already sick of him.

"Philip Schneider. Call me Captain, like everyone else!" the well-groomed man who owned the large premises in the heart of the city had told him. Aomine had followed him through the same looking rooms and the procession had been enriched by a journalist, a photographer and a make-up artist. Now he just had to find out where Satsuki had gone before he had a panic attack.

What he didn't know was that you were there, together with his manager.

"Finally, Dai-chan!" Satsuki called back to him with her typical don't-mess-around look. He had witnessed another show by the captain, who had introduced him to his team and make him seat in front of a mirror full of lights, around which everyone had gathered, except for you, who stayed behind to receive instructions from Momoi.

Who knows what you had to say to each other, it was so secret.

"Last but not least, my assistant, she will be the lucky one to dress and undress you today!" the captain announces, as the champion tries unsuccessfully to get it into his head that he has known how to dress himself since he was about three years old.

"Don't take this as a lack of confidence in your abilities. It is a measure to prevent make-up and hair products from staining your clothes " a new voice informs him, a voice he identifies with your face after a moment. You smell so good, you look so clean, austere and yet mischievous in your black dress that covers your knees and arms and barely caresses your figure. Your bright eyes, your lips a little fuller in the middle and your features so deliciously irregular make him discover something new about you at every glance.

If Daiki had known that he would be in the hands of such a beautiful girl all day long, he might even have bothered to set the alarm. 

"The fact is that...I'm ticklish" he grinned at you under Satsuki's embarrassed look.

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle " you reassure him, then ask the captain for permission to leave to prepare the dressing room.

By the time he arrives, he has been interviewed, moisturised and his hair trimmed a few centimetres after being washed in an elaborate ritual. He could certainly get used to this life. The ace sees you close the door behind him, and finds himself alone in a white room that looks like a giant dressing room, with a table in the middle and a wall set up as a wardrobe.

"Welcome, Mr Aomine! " you smile, as if you were the maid from one of his teenage fantasies.

"Call me Daiki, Mr Aomine is my father" he replies, trying to figure out if Satsuki was part of the game or not.

"Your manager told me you'd rather do it yourself, but I can..." you quickly stop as he shakes his head.

“Being dressed by a girl is embarrassing enough. My self-esteem would be shattered if you and my best friend teamed up against me, and believe me, anything is possible with Satsuki!" he observes, making you smile. "When I first met her in the lift, I thought she was a model. Such a lovely woman! " you comment, and this time he's the one laughing.

"She is, but she's also stubborn and annoying and... Do I have to wear this stuff?" he huffs, pointing to the three garments hanging behind you, swaying in the empty room.

"That's the idea. What do they look like?" you probe the ground, perhaps already knowing the answer he'd give, judging by the way your worried eyes are fixed on him. He noticed it for a while now, that way of yours. You watch him discreetly and sparingly, for brief moments at a time.

"These are... strange" he states, lifting an arm and touching the soft fabric of the latter.

"OK, strange is fine with me" you nod, handing the boy a dark robe and a paper bag containing long blue socks and a pair of black boxer shorts with the famous 'Seamless' label.

"Satsuki informed me that you would never remember, so while I was waiting for you, I thought I'd catch up on the basics. Now, be a good boy for me and take it all off " you smile, unaware of the immediate stir that innocent encouragement causes to him.

As you wait for your model, you wonder what your boss is up to.

"Sage blue, single-breasted is the first choice! I have to consider the shirt between these two and..." you tell the boss, or rather the captain as he has proclaimed himself today, probably to be more in line with your model sporting career. He doesn't listen to you anyway, because his birthday present has just come out of the dressing room.

"Handsome, you can do the cover in your robe!" exclaims a beaming Phil as you turn your back to retrieve the accessories. Chelsea boots, cufflinks because you like them, midnight blue opaque tie and maybe a watch, but probably not. You arrange everything on the table so that your boss can oversee your choices, and as you look up at him, you understand why the man is so enthusiastic.

Maybe it's his naturally masculine posture, maybe it's the broad shoulders or that look he gives you as he playfully asks for your help in getting rid of Phil. You know it's going to be a long day by the effort you make to look away from him.

"Is the captain always like that? He could beat Satsuki " he points out, probably exhausted from the latest round of inappropriate comments.

"He's an enthusiast by nature!" you try to play it down with a smile as you hand him the suit trousers in exchange for the dressing robe. A bad exchange for your nerves and for your famous coolness, even though he has the elegance of a baby hippo. None of his chaotic movements distract you from his collarbones, his defined pecs and his back, so firm and luscious it deserves a chapter in art books.

"Done. What's next? " he asks you, bare-chested, hands on his hips, his trousers zipped just below his flat navel, as if there were any need to draw further attention to his abs and V.

"Are you comfortable enough?" you ask him, though you can't see any major faults in fit or length.

"The trousers are fine, it's the briefs that are a bit... restrictive " he laughs, as soon as he sees you widen your eyes and blush, as you've clearly downsized him.

"Excuse me... I..." you barely apologise as you climb up a step to place the shirt on his shoulders, which he puts on and fastens by himself, following your instructions to tuck it properly into his trousers.

"No need to apologise, it's not a rating, is it?" he mocks playfully, just to rub it in, and gets an ironic look and a shrug in return " I really should thank you. This is an experience that will make me a better man. Pain will bring out my inner strength " he continues to tease you throughout the dressing process, even as he hands you a wrist to slip the cufflinks on and closes them with a devilish grin.

"Behave, champ, or I'll strangle you with this tie! " you threaten, but your weapon is soon stolen from your hands, only to be tied with uncanny skill by the boy, who confesses that he learned to tie the knot while wearing a high school uniform.

"Was it supposed to be crooked then too, or is it a special one that only you know?" you tease him, gesturing for him to lean towards you, and he doesn't hesitate, bringing his face so close to yours that you're afraid your hands are going to tremble now that you've loosened the large side slightly, sliding the cloth under his collar, tightening it again and pressing the two sides flat over his stomach, feeling him swallow. You raise your eyes and stay that way for a moment, still watching each other closely, until a sound outside the door brings you back to reality. 

"Five minutes to fix his jacket and I'll send him to you! " you promise Adrian, who lingers at the door for a moment, just to watch you work.

" Head up and back straight for me, please! " you instruct, taking a few steps back to admire your work of art.  You hand him his shoes and the jacket that fits him like a glove, say hello to the photographer who is on his way back to the set, and return to him with a small smile. You button the jacket and adjust the cuffs of his shirt, inviting him to look at himself in the mirror.

Too bad, right now Daiki couldn't care less about his appearance.

"Ta-Daaan! Done! Do you like it?" you sing, waiting for a reaction.

" You are the expert here, so tell me! " the boy acknowledges, distracted by the attention you are giving him, even though he knows you are probably just checking an insignificant detail of the suit.

" I do, you are just so utterly perfect!" you reply cheerfully. "Phil told me that you can keep what you want, so please do me a favour and take this outfit home with you! " you conclude, shifting your focus from the mirror to his eyes, so excited that it is almost impossible for the boy not to think of you in your bedroom, shedding all those unnecessary layers.

"Where am I going to go dressed like this?" he asks, amusing you.

"Everywhere, actually " you say, removing an invisible thread from the jacket "A press conference, signing a contract, dinner with the girl you want to impress. I'm not saying you need a dress to impress, but... As girl, I assure you it's going to be harder to turn you down dressed like this! " you finish, moving away to retrieve a strange sticky brush with which you will deliver the 'coup de grâce'.

"Are you sure it works like that?" he scoffs, taking advantage of your distraction, grinning as you verbally confirm your condition.

" All right then... Let's say I want to spend some time with you. A dinner in a fancy place tonight, for example. Since I have the dress, you couldn't refuse, could you?" he asks, and you stall, moving slowly to his side, sliding a hand down his back, finishing your work in silence. 

"Are you trying to embarrass me, Daiki?" you point out quietly, leaving the brush on the table and crossing your hands over your stomach.

" It's not me, it's the suit! " he smirks, looking at you steadily, his arms crossed over his chest.

"The dress is my choice, smartass!" you tease him, just to remind him who's in charge.

But he really is in ratio, even flirting.

" Then finish the work and pick me too! " he smiles, and when his hand reaches your cheek, you know.

You know you cannot refuse.

[systemtek]

THE UK’S CYBER SECURITY AND LAW ENFORCEMENT CHIEFS have issued an urgent alert to Black Friday bargain hunters after new figures revealed rising losses to online scammers during the festive shopping season. Clothing, high-end tech products and even cars were among the products featuring in scams as GCHQ’s National Cyber Security Centre (NCSC) and Action Fraud revealed that Brits reported losing over £11.5 million to online criminals between November 2023 and January 2024 – with each victim losing £695 on average. This compares to reported losses amounting to £10.6 million the previous year. The new figures are published on the same day as the NCSC launches a nationwide campaign, as part of Stop! Think Fraud, to encourage people to set-up 2-step verification on their most important accounts. The latest figures, which come from reports made to Action Fraud and analysed by the National Fraud Intelligence Bureau (NFIB), revealed that 7,168 reports (43%) mentioned a social media platform, with online marketplaces being mentioned in 18.9% of reports. The figures also revealed that those aged 30-39 submitted the largest number of reports (23%), closely followed by 40–49-year-olds (20%). The average age of victims was 42. Lord Hanson, Fraud Minister, said: “We know that more needs to be done to tackle online fraud. “That’s why we are delighted to support initiatives like this, through the Stop! Think Fraud campaign, which provide practical, actionable advice to the public to stay safe from scams. “And our message to anyone shopping online as we approach Black Friday is simple: if you come across anything that doesn’t feel right – stop what you’re doing, break contact, and do not click any links. “This government is committed to defeating this scourge and we will continue our work with industry and other partners to better protect the public from this appalling crime.” No one is immune to fraud, so shoppers are encouraged to exercise vigilance against tactics that push them to act quickly without thinking. Criminals often create false urgency by using limited-time offers or promoting items that seem scarce or not widely available. If you’ve seen something that doesn’t feel right, stop. - Break the contact and don’t click on any links - Research the company or seller by looking at reviews on trusted review sites Shoppers can also protect their online accounts by setting up two-step verification which provides an extra layer of protection and means that even if a criminal knows your password, they still won’t be able to access it. Adam Mercer, Deputy Head of Action Fraud, said: “Everyone will be looking to snap up good Black Friday deals and bargains whilst shopping this festive period, but unfortunately this doesn’t stop fraudsters from targeting members of the public online. “With Action Fraud data revealing more than 16,000 reports of online shopping fraud over last year’s festive period, we are urging people to shop safely online - especially if you’re buying on social media - and avoid being left empty handed for the holiday season. “Never feel pressured into buying anything online - creating a false sense of urgency is a tell-tale sign of a fraudster. Whether you are shopping on online marketplaces, social media or retailers, avoid bank transfers if you can, and use a credit card as it can provide more protection if anything goes wrong. “You can protect yourself from fraudsters this festive season by following the practical advice on the Stop! Think Fraud website to help you shop online safely.” NCSC CEO Richard Horne said: “As we head into the holiday shopping season, people are understandably eager to find the best deals online. “Unfortunately, this is also prime time for cyber criminals, who exploit bargain hunters with increasingly sophisticated scams – sometimes crafted using AI – making them harder to detect. “To stay protected, I strongly recommend following our online shopping guidance, including setting up 2-step verification and creating memorable but secure passwords using three random words.” For more information on how to protect yourself, search for “Stop! Think Fraud”. Read the full article

[whereareroo]

LET’S FOCUS ON THE REAL ISSUES

WF THOUGHTS (10/19/24).

Stop reading right now and make a list. What are the top ten issues that you want addressed by the federal government, your state government, or your local government?

I bet you a donut that none of your lists included banning transgender athletes from sports competition.

There’s a reason that your lists wouldn’t include a sports ban for transgender athletes. It’s not a big deal. The issue has no impact on the lives of 99.9% of Americans.

Due to privacy issues, it’s difficult to estimate the number of transgender athletes in America. An expert who focuses on NCAA college sports estimates that, out of the total sum of 550,000 NCAA athletes, there are fewer than 100 transgender NCAA college athletes in America. Out of the millions and millions of kids that play school sports from grades K through 12, a transgender expert conducted a national survey and could only locate 5 transgender athletes. Let’s summarize the math. From kindergarten through college, there are probably fewer than 200 transgender athletes in all of America.

Despite the math, conservative Republican candidates for office are always harping about banning transgender athletes from sports. They act as if it’s the biggest public policy issue in America. Trump talks about it at almost every rally. In the very tight U. S. Senate race in Texas, Ted Cruz talks about it at every single rally. When Fox News interviewed Kamala Harris, it was the second question that they asked. All across America, the transgender ban is a talking point for Republicans seeking federal, state, and local offices.

Instead of focusing on a topic that involves fewer than 200 athletes, let me give you some other random statistics to think about:

** 38,000,000 Americans (11.5% of the population) live in poverty.

** 6,700,000 American families (5.25% of all families) live in substandard housing.

** 13,000,000 American kids (20% of the total) are malnourished.

** 2,200,000 American high school seniors (13% of the total) don’t graduate from high school every year.

** 11,200,000 American adults (44% of all adults) struggle to pay for health care.

** 18,000,000 American adults over the age of 75 (85% of that population) cannot afford the combined costs of housing and necessary medial care.

** 595,000 small businesses close each year, and 50% of all small businesses don’t last longer than 5 years.

** Don’t even get me started on the numbers related to gun violence. Based on the last four years, we now average 600 mass shootings every year. More than 50,000 Americans are killed by guns every year. Another 120,000 are injured.

Why are the Republicans talking about 200 athletes instead of talking about the big issues that impact millions and millions of Americans? That’s easy. It’s because they’re not interested in solving problems. They’re interested in creating problems and causing division. They’re interested in inflaming people.

I urge you to listen to the speeches given by Republican candidates for federal, state, and local offices. If they talk about transgender stuff, you have to have a tough talk with yourself. Is this candidate a serious leader, or are they just a flamethrower seeking to create division, anger, and hostility? There are so many serious issues facing America. Be very skeptical of candidates who harp about sports and transgender athletes. The flamethrower candidates think that voters are suckers, and they can persuade voters with inflammatory issues even if those issues have no impact on 99.9% of Americans. Don’t fall for it. Don’t be a sucker.

We should use our votes to remove flamethrower politicians from political life in America. We deserve so much better. We have the power to change politics and bring seriousness back to political campaigns. Do your part.

[officialrailscales]

New Digs | MiniDot HTP XOS in FDE

Karve Hand Stop | Terra Bronze

HTP XOS-W 3.5-Slot MLOK Scale | MiniDot Texture | FDE

HTP XOS-H 3.5-Slot MLOK Scale | MiniDot Texture | FDE

QDX Sling Mount | Terra Bronze

- RS

[cyberbenb]

Putin critic Navalny jailed for 19 more years on 'extremism' charges

A Moscow court has sentenced jailed opposition leader Alexei Navalny to another 19 years of imprisonment, Russian media reported on Aug. 4.

According to BBC Russia, Russian authorities have convicted Navalny for what they call “creating an extremist community,” namely the Anti-Corruption Foundation.

Navalny will serve his time in a “special regime colony,” Russia’s most restrictive penal institution, which is usually reserved for dangerous criminals.

The trial of the “extremist” case was classified, BBC Russia wrote. It began on June 19 and lasted only a month, with all hearings held behind closed doors. Navalny was charged under seven articles of Russia’s Criminal Code.

The verdict announcement on Aug. 4 was broadcasted online, but the sound was so bad that the judge’s words were almost incomprehensible, according to the media outlet. It was unclear at first how many additional years Navalny received.

Later, Russian journalist Vasily Polonsky cited Navalny’s lawyer, who confirmed the 19 year-sentence, and a post appeared on the politician’s social accounts.

“The number (of years) doesn’t matter. I understand very well that, like many political prisoners, I am serving a life sentence. Where life is measured by the duration of my life or the life of this regime,” Navalny said.

“They want to frighten you, not me, and deprive you of the will to resist. You are being forced to surrender your Russia without a fight to a gang of traitors, thieves, and scoundrels who have seized power. Putin should not achieve his goal. Do not lose the will to resist."

The European Union, the U.S., and the U.K. criticized the court’s sentence as politically motivated and demanded the immediate release of Navalny.

Navalny was poisoned with the Soviet-era nerve agent Novichok in August 2020, a move which is confirmed to have been executed by Moscow. After his recovery, he returned to Moscow, where he was sentenced to a total of 11.5 years in prison.

Navalny urges restoration of 1991 borders, reparation payments to Ukraine by Russia

Jailed Kremlin critic Alexey Navalny’s team issued a statement on Feb. 20 calling for the restoration of Ukraine’s 1991 borders and the payment of reparations by Moscow, independent Russian media outlet Meduza reported.

The Kyiv IndependentTeah Pelechaty

[crazykuroneko]

Im pretty sure Critics/Media people get screeners (hell AMC is apparently giving screener access to random tumblr people so their standards aren't strict) so I don't think its access that's the problem at least for the media. its what they're choosing to prioritize and there's way too much content out there right now. We're also getting to the point where even shows on smaller platforms like peacock and paramount+ manage to break through (Mrs. Davis, Poker Face, Yellowstone + spinoffs, etc).

It also has to be said Mayfair Witches was competing directly with The Last of Us in the same hour while IWTV was not competing with any big show (in fact it had a really beneficial lead-in with The walking dead that averages well over 1m viewers every week and was NOT up against house of the dragon). All those things considered plus the vast difference in quality and critical reception.. the ratings look significantly worse to me for iwtv. Like its 18-49 rating is practically the same but with much less competition in its time slot whereas Mayfair managed it while competing with the biggest show of the year.

Part of it is definitely its simply on the wrong network/platform. AMC is the home of straight white male prestige dramas and the walking dead. Their show leads have historically been middle aged white men. there's not much on there that would appeal to a more diverse audience that could be interested in this show and I dont think a single show is going to move the needle for them. And Idk who the anne rice fanbase is these days like the books dropped off in popularity after QOTD which was in the 80s. I think once your core fanbase is older (and tbh probably more racist) they're also more resistant to changes. Its a bizarre franchise to me cause on one hand the first book and the movie are cultural touchstones like everyone's heard of them and they are the basis for a lot of recent vampire fiction but once you move further into the series its VERY niche and inaccessible.

Paid subscribers numbers:

AMC+: 11.5 million (not available in most of Europe and Asia)

Peacock: 21 million (Available in Europe)

Paramount+: 24 million (Available in Europe)

Anyway, since you know oh so much, you should have posted this on your own blog. Because frankly every time I see a wall of text of rhetorical messages in my inbox, the urge to delete is so strong. So it's better you put it on reblog or make your own post so people can chime in as well.

[benchau]

11.5 URG-I

- b

[eaglesnick]

101 Things You Should Know About the UK Tory Government

Thing 20

“Chancellor Rishi Sunak calls on firms to “think very carefully” about any investments that would in any way support the barbaric Putin regime.... I am urging firms to think very carefully about their investments in Russia and how they may aid the Putin regime – and I am also clear that there is no case for new investment in Russia.” (GOV.UK 13/03/22)

No case for “new investment" but Sunak's wife is reportedly still profiting from her old investments in Russia. The Indian IT services company Infosys is still operating inside Russia despite saying eight months ago it was pulling out. Sunak’s wife, Akshata Murty, has a stake in the company (which is owned by her father) from which she receives multimillion-pound annual dividends.

“The company that pays Akshata Murthy, wife of British PM Rishi Sunak, £11.5 million a year is still operating in Russia, report says.”  (msn.com: 05/11/22)

Angela Rayner had this to say about Sunak’s double standards:

“The prime minister’s tough talk on sanctions on Putin is compromised by his private conflicts of interest. When he was chancellor Rishi Sunak ordered UK businesses to reconsider any investments that would in any sense support Putin and his regime but he’s utterly failed to get his own house in order.” (Guardian: 04/11/22)

As usual, it’s one rule for the rich and another for the rest of us.

[frostironfudge]

Tenebrous - Loki (AU) - Chapter Fourteen

Pairings: Vampire! Professor Loki x Fem!Reader

Characters: Loki, Thor, Fem OC, Reader, Bucky Barnes, Stephen Strange

Warnings: dark, angst, coven dynamics, blood, witch coven dynamics, vampire coven dynamics, soul bonds, hurt/comfort, canon level violence, blood drinking, mind manipulations, torture, non consensual blood drinking, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 11.5 k

Dividers: @firefly-graphics​

Chapter Thirteen || Chapter Fifteen

Main Masterlist || Fic Masterlist || My AO3

Chapter Fourteen - Aren't All Tales As Old As Time?

Two Days till Alexander Arrives.

Emery blinked several times, not really being able to process what they were seeing. They tilt their head to the side, not making a sound. 

Doctor Strange fills up the thermos with a blood bag, his skin seems paler and he looks tired. As he tries to twist the bottle cap it falls and Strange groans, following as the cap rolls its way and stops next to Emery. 

He gulps and they just want an explanation. 

“It isn’t what it looks like….” He winces at his own words because it sounds clearly as though a lie. 

“It looks like something out of a teenage show.” They comment, squatting to retrieve the stray cap.  

Strange narrows his eyes, waiting for the butterfly that fluttered between them to present itself but nothing occurred.

They walk closer and Strange takes a step back, their usual scent of black currant with a hint or orange is replaced by jasmine. 

Emery smirks, “You always were an observant one.” 

“Where are they?” Strange’s eyes begin to turn black with red rims, “What have you done?” 

“Careful Doc. You do anything to me, it replicates on your little student with a crush on you.” Maya smiles as they return to their own body.

“Consider them as a two fold, he knows about your weakness to them and he knows that they are important to Y/N. He watches closely, even when you think not. Glory be to father.” They complete, hoping Strange picks up on the meaning behind their words. 

“Are they safe?” Is all he wants to know.

“Yes. Provided you know which side to be on.” Their jaw set as Strange nods. 

“I will have my decision the day of, please inform your Father.” Strange notifies and Maya blurs away from view.

Three Days Before Alexander Arrives.

Bucky remains a spectator as the coven practices, Clark paired off with Y/N and relentlessly having her conjure spells. She falls to her side, a frustrated groan leaving her as she rises again. Raising her hand she brings forth her crescent.

Her frustration with Clark is apparent, he hasn’t taunted her yet but Bucky knows the words are coming.

He looks at Miles, who gazes back at him urging to intervene.

It had been days since he directly spoke to her. Y/N herself had resorted to keeping to herself. To not cause Bucky any distress. It did hurt, seeing him joke around with the others and having him crack inside jokes with Sierra. Which seemed to always occur when she was in the room.

It felt as though months ago again, when he would call Maria but not her.

“You should talk to her.” Sierra urges from beside him.

“I think she has it covered.” Bucky shrugs just as Clark causes a root to wrap around her ankle pulling her down.

“You’re not focusing.” Clark calls out, almost bored.

Y/N lays on the ground for a second, trying to know what the fuck was going wrong. As she stands, her gaze goes towards Sierra and Bucky. Watching as they converse easily. It’s stupid to feel jealous, they had hardly been friends since he returned. Their platonic relationship had suffered at the hand of non communication and the distance Bucky shoved in the middle.

“Yeah she has,” Sierra rolls her eyes at the sheer ignorance the man next to has in his possession.

“We don’t have all day.” Clark calls out and Y/N glares at him.

She conjures a carpet beneath him, and retracts her hand as the floor beneath him is shifted Clark falls to the floor.

“Okay, good, just know vampires aren’t going to slip on carpet.” The high priest dusts himself off and two crescents move towards him and he ducks in time.

“Y/N.” Clark says in warning.

“You wanted better.” She shrugs, the crescents returning and her eyes flicker between the white glow and remaining the same.

“Focus.” Clark conjures up an image of one of the vampires from the night of the forest.

“What is he doing?” Bucky moves a step away from the wall.

Y/N wants to tell him off, but it would be possible that those fuckers would be in the entourage.

Her eyes glow, the returning crescents cut through the illusion.

“Good.” Is all the praise she gets, as another vampire is conjured behind her, who puts his hand on her shoulder.

“Not again–,” She grabs her hand, pushing the crescent through her chest.

“Clark,” Bucky calls out, as the glow in her eyes grows.

The High Priest ignores him.

The illusion comes up of John, Y/N grits her teeth. His laugh makes her blood boil.

Bucky watches her concentration begin to break.

“Don’t react with anger.” He directly addresses her and Y/N looks at Bucky with a glare.

“Why don’t you keep your other conversations going, after days you–,” The illusion of John grabs her, cutting her off, throwing her down. Her chest heaves, her palms conjure fire in one hand and current in the other.

Bucky raises his left hand, the vines discarded by Clark wrap around illusion John growing till he is sealed inside them.

Clark removes the illusion, all of them look at Y/N, she blinks a few times but the glow doesn’t die down. Her tears illuminated by the glow.

“Y/N,” Bucky moves towards her, she closes her eyes, squeezing them tightly. Trying to forget everything, keep her mind blank. To not be taken under any flashes of memories, she needed to go.

She hears Bucky kneel near her, his hand comes to rest on her upper arm. She shrugs it away, eyes opening and she looks directly at Clark, asking him to leave through a non verbal conversation.

‘You may go.’ He dismisses her seeing the white glow is gone.

With the three words she leaves not looking back at Bucky who wants to go behind her but decides otherwise. 

“What?” Bucky pauses taking in the look the three are giving him.

“She needs her best friend.” Clark shrugs as if it is blatantly obvious.

“She does, yes, there is only so much a vampire boyfriend and vampire bestfriend can understand.” Miles sighs, palm on his own chest.

“Miles, you can’t be serious.” Bucky gives the two husbands a look of disbelief and then turns to Sierra who holds her own disappointed look.

“You too?” He hands his palms turned upward not understanding this ambush.

“Bucky, you’re someone who understands what is going on.” Sierra tries to get him to understand, “I know this is hard for you too, but you need a support system as well. I’m sure Gramma would agree.” 

“She would have swatted the back of my head. She did it, when she came to know I stopped speaking to Y/N anymore.” Bucky shakes his head at the memory.

“Look, if speaking to her is difficult, then tell her. The minute it gets difficult you verbalise. Just don’t leave her in the dark.” Miles explains and he nods.

“I’ll go to speak with her.” Bucky follows from where she left, conjuring a small compass to locate Y/N.

Four Days Before Alexander Arrives.

Luna and Zemo watch as they finally have an audience with everyone. Nighttime as the moonlight gleams through the windows. He looks upon Y/N, she seems tired. Her demeanour hunched. 

Zemo tilts his head, curiosity bringing out his ability, Y/N looks at him. He smiles.

“I don’t have the energy to keep you out.” She tells him, as everyone focuses upon them.

“Zemo.” Luna chastises. He only smiles back at his love.

“I apologise, curiosity tends to get the best of me.” He explains.

“You do know curiosity killed the cat.” Nia pipes up, quirky a brow.

“I’m already dead, so.” Zemo chuckles and Luna shakes her head.

“Satisfaction brought it back.” Y/N adds, and Luna looks at her intently.

“I’m pretty sure Lord Vampy here would love to pry through your soul.” Nia gestures towards him, earning a chuckle from Loki and Strange.

“What?” She asks, “Is he a Lord?” 

“I hail from Barons.” Zemo shrugs.

“Oh the rich aristocrats?” Nia observes and he nods.

“Have the niceties been exchanged?” Bucky questions and Y/N looks at him, wondering if they would ever speak like before.

“Be nice.” Sierra says, Bucky looks at her and then they break into a grin, sharing a joke.

Loki turns his head to Y/N when the bond ripples with irritation.

“Are you alright?” He murmurs, she feels guilty for subjecting him to trivial emotions.

“It’s nothing, I’m sorry.” She takes his hand in hers and they look back at Zemo and Luna.

“Alright. So Alexander is set to arrive, you all need to be prepared for him trying to manipulate your weak areas, unclaimed mate, chosen family, friends, anything that would force you to turn to his side.” Zemo informs them.

“We expect Maya, who can shape-shift, into any creature, any person.” Luna adds.

“He may leave a note or no note, or Maya may be the one delivering the message.” The Baron adds.

“He will keep them alive, till your allegiance is sealed to him. In that event, please turn to his side. Pretend. Do what you think is correct to keep your loved one safe.” Luna urges all of them.

“What if we chose not to?” Miles questions, knowing he has no one remaining, apart from Clark.

“Then you should not feel guilty for the blood that is shed.” Clark speaks up, lacing their hands together.

“You must know, there are several vampires who will be there, illusionists, strength, mind manipulation.” Luna informs them and looks between Y/N and Bucky. 

The two have their gazes meet briefly but then look away. 

“So we have to be prepared for anything. We’ll need a lot of stakes.” Nia sighs.

“We have several.” Sierra announces.

“We’re working on a recall spell, so in case anyone loses out on their stakes more will come through.” Bucky informs them, Y/N looks to Miles, confused.

“You needed time, so we didn’t…” Miles trails off and Y/N nods. Was she even a part of anything?

“That would be so cool.” Nia cheers.

“Yes, it’s all very exciting.” Thor murmurs, on edge since the plans are all rapidly changing. Rendering his ability useless.

“I understand how you feel, however, till you do not pick a path you won’t know.” Luna advises and Thor nods understanding but still dissatisfied. 

“Is anyone else going to turn against him?” Loki questions, Zemo shakes his head.

“I’m afraid we are the cavalry.” he affirms.

“You both will be on his side till the last minute, correct?” Stephen finally speaks from his place near the wall.

“Yes, we have to keep appearances up, as will Maya.” Luna gazes upon Y/N again. 

Loki runs a comforting hand over her back, she leans closer to him. Through his periphery he sees the small moon appear. Cupping her cheek, he tilts her head back till her eyes meet his green. 

Y/N furrows her brows, then notices the small moon. She sighs. Looking back at Loki her eyes flicker towards the white glow.

A surge of power envelopes Loki, he feels his fangs descend, in tandem with her eyes harbouring the white glow.

The room glows, a foggy path illuminated by moonlight.

Y/N takes a step forward but someone grabs her hand and she swiftly turns to find Loki.

‘How are you here?’ She questions,

‘This…’ Loki pulls her close as his past self falls to the ground from the tree.

Y/N looks between the two, ‘The night of–,’ Her words die on her tongue as the Loki in front hunches over in pain. Begs the moon to save her.

‘You asked me to protect her.’ A soft voice whispers amongst them as the hunched over pleading Loki disappears amongst the fog.

‘Who are you?’ Loki turns, keeping Y/N close as they try to discern the source.

‘Oh creature of the night. You forget the one who granted your wish?’ There is a soft chuckle and Y/N looks up at the moon.

‘Your mate is smart.’ The voice still has mirth.

‘I,’ Loki looks at the moon in disbelief.

‘Is it not intriguing? In the moments of absolute faithlessness and despair is the faith the strongest.’ The voice continues.

‘In that moment all else is addled with disbelief. The need fuels the prayer.’ Y/N speaks and feels a soft caress on her cheek.

‘I’ve watched you over years and centuries. The two of you were destined. I forged the bond the night your mate saved the woman who carried you. The spell your mother casted brought you back to me.’ 

‘Why are you telling me this?’ The witch questions.

‘Because you wonder why can’t you feel the embrace of someone of your own.’ The voice sighs, Y/N looks onto the ground.

‘Your mother is proud of you Loki. She watches over you. You’re right she adores your mate.’

‘Mother?’ Loki’s lips part in shock.

‘She misses you.’ 

‘I miss her as well.’ Loki admits and Y/N gives his hand a reassuring squeeze, letting him know she is there for him. 

‘why are we here?’ Loki questions, ‘in this memory?’

‘you see, the man you are to face soon enough,’ the voice begins and the ground shakes. 

Loki and Y/N hold onto each other.

‘i will meet you both again. go back to your reality now. the next time i try to speak with you come willingly.’ 

Y/N gasps as her field of vision turns from the forest to the living room at the Manor. Loki returns after her. 

“What happened?” Luna raises a brow, their futures becoming seemingly obscure.

“Repeat from the past.” Loki covers up, Y/N nods.

“What was it?” Nia stands beside her.

“Just another one of John’s well, treats.” Y/N murmurs which is believable.

Bucky’s lips press into a thin line. It doesn’t seem right to him. As if the two aren’t saying something.

“I’m sorry.” Nia hugs her best-friend. Y/N huffs. “Nia super strength….” She laughs when Nia pulls away worriedly. 

“Sorry, sorry, bit of a learning curve by being supernatural.” She laughs.

“As we were discussing,” Zemo garners their attention again.

He begins to go over their plan, based upon the two strategies that Alexander has shared with them. Clark decides that the coven will not be at the forefront immediately since they need to have a semblance of surprise under their belt as well.

Luna agrees, party because if it is deemed she let go of Celestials; Alexander would not allow her next unnecessary inhale to plead. 

Two Days Before Alexander Arrives

Stephen Strange uses every ounce of his speed to reach their home. Shrubbery suffers at his hands, breaking into splinters as he rushes through them. 

“They have to be at the dorm the spell won’t fail on me.” Y/N was frantic over the phone. The locating spell kept showing her the dorm building. She had studied with Emery in the study quite a few times to recognise it. 

Emery’s dorm was on the third floor of the building. 

There is no semblance of panic through the hardly formed bond, it irks him that he cannot discern their whereabouts. 

Stephen reaches for the door, the reception guard greets him he nods politely.

“Which is Emery Castillo’s room?” He questions the guard who looks at him sceptically.

“Um, Sir, I do not have permission to give that information out.”

The marble counter top holds indents from his fingers, frustration grows within his chest.

Stephen leans forward maintaining eye contact with the guard. 

“I think you should be able to do that.” He whispers and the guard’s gaze blanks.

The guard blinks several times, fingertips gliding over the keyboard.

“345.” 

Stephen cares not for the security footage as he uses his speed again, as his hand reaches for the door, he’s tackled to the side by another vampire.

“Hail Alexander.” The vampire digs into Stephen’s arm with their fangs.

The doctor turns them, using his own arm as a lever to extend the back while his knees dig into their thighs.

The vampire groans as his body is manoeuvred, the of the vampire flesh begins to tear with the weight of  Strange’s strength with one final push his body tears apart, he drags the body to the supply closet and the flesh begins to merge. 

Panting the Doctor retrieves his stake, spearing it into the apex of the heart and the flesh remains dismembered. He checks his attire and is pleased to find no blood. Stepping out of the supply closet. He turns to find Emery looking up at him.

“Professor?” They tilt their head and Stephen feels relief flood through him at the small flutter in his chest.

“Yes, um, I was on my way to seeking you.” He steps closer needing to be near.

“Oh, um about what?” They ask, tucking their book under their arm.

“Are you planning to go anywhere?” 

“Um?”

“Sorry I meant to the PT convention in Manchester, I well, the staff gives a free ride to the student with the highest grades and that is you…” 

“Oh my god.” They jump up and down excited and Stephen smiles admiring them dearly. Emery’s hands come to rest over his arms, gripping tightly.

“Professor if this is a joke I will cry.”

“It isn’t, I, I wanted to offer you a spot in any case. I believe you even have a spot for a research position next year.” Stephen admits.

“Oh geez, this, wow. Wait, why didn’t you email?” They remove their hands from him and Stephen dislikes the emptiness left in wake of the movement.

“Oh I was passing by and these good news things are best said in person.” He shrugs.

“Oh, well um, I’m excited for your presentation.” A slight blush coats their cheeks. Stephen smiles warmly. 

“I’d invite you in but I have a new roommate and he’s a little reserved. So um,” Emery scratches the back of their head. 

Stephen only has a few moments to contemplate when the scent hits him. He turns and Emery does a double take of the speed at which Stephen tucks them behind his body. 

A snarl ripping through his throat. 

“Pro-professor?” Emery clutches onto his coat, their heart thudding rapidly. 

“Do you have your phone?” Stephen hisses moving in a semi circle pattern as the person in front of them takes a stance that indicates their impending lunge. 

There is a growling and Emery understands this is not something that is some kind of prank or practical joke. 

“Yea-Yeah.” 

“Call Y/N.”

“Y/N?” 

“Is she also?” Emery retrieves their phone and begins dialling her number. 

“She knows.” Is all he says and grabs the vampire and throws him to the other side. 

“We need to get in your room.” Strange tells them and they lead him in and he is blocked from entering. 

“Why aren’t you—,” Emery screams just as Y/N receives the call. 

Strange is thrown on the floor as the vampire presses a stake to his throat. 

Something in their own chest rips apart. 

“Emery? Emery?” Y/N calls out trying to reach through the stupor they had fallen into. 

The vampire puts the stake through Stephen’s shoulder latching it to the ground and then turns toward Emery. Menacingly looking at them. 

They stand at the door. 

“Invite me in.” They seethe. 

“Emery do not invite that being inside and do not look at them.”

Emery closes their eyes, “Y/N what the fuck is going on?” 

“I, its a very long story— Loki and I are on our way.” 

“There is a demon outside and you want to come here?” Emery deadpans and Stephen chuckles dryly outside, carefully taking out the stake from his shoulder. 

“We’re kinda on the side of the good.” Y/N reasons and there is the click of a door and seatbelt. 

“Do you want to stay on line?” She questions and Emery just watches Stephen.

The vampire turns in time for Stephen to move close as if hugging him, and driving the stake into his heart. 

The creature slumps against Stephen and he pushes the body yet again into the supply closet, he takes a deep inhale. 

Standing at the door, “Hey Emery?” Strange greets, running a hand to fix his hair. 

Emery peeks open one eye and then opens the other. 

“You, you can come in.” They allow him and Stephen walks in, shutting the door. 

“I’m sure you have several questions—,”

The wind is knocked out of him as Emery wraps their arms around him and Strange encircles his arms around their shoulders. 

“Are you okay?” They ask, voice laden with worry.

“I’ll heal soon.” He pulls away slightly, cupping their face. Emery sighs contently at the contact. Their chest feeling as thought a flutter of a butterfly’s wings.

“Will you explain why there is a feral demon in the dorm?” They question, Stephen chuckles.

“Why don’t we sit down for this?” Stephen suggests and Emery points to the sofa tucked away in the corner. 

“Sorry, I didn’t clean up much.” They move the blanket and knock over their library copy of the neurology book Stephen had carried around since a few weeks. 

“You’re interested in neurology?” His eyes light up as he picks up the book.

“Saw you reading it…” Emery blushes again. 

“So I influence your reading choices?” He quirks a brow.

“Only academics.” They chuckle as he frowns playfully.

“Leisure reading?” He sits when they ask him to, two feet away from them.

“I enjoy fiction.” They reply, watching him run his fingers over their notes.

“This is stellar work.” He praises, smiling encouragingly.

They give him a tightlipped smile.

“I believe it is time for me to come clean.” He sets the book between them.

“I’d appreciate honesty.” Emery reminds and Stephen nods, making a cross over his heart.

He takes a deep breath, looking into their eyes as he exhales then finding the right words to begin to tell them his true nature.

Three Days Before Alexander Arrives

Bucky checks the terrace first, it was they place the two had gone to on that ill-fated night of their buried memories ripped open.

He thought about it long and hard, Sierra’s words echo in his mind. Would it have to be continuously re-lived? Just four days ago she was reminded yet again. How could Y/N still want to speak to him or want him in her life. Beyond being a soldier going to war, how could she see him as a friend she wanted to keep around?

Disappointment laces his features finding the terrace empty. His feet carry him to Loki’s room. As he draws closer he can hear murmurs. The door is ajar, he stands gathering himself.

He knocks and the conversation is cut off. Y/N opens the door, her distress palpable and Loki stands from where he sat on the bed.

“Can we help you, James?” Y/N wants to scoff at Loki’s pleasantries.

“Probably has other friends to have it covered.” She mutters.

Bucky gives her a pointed look. Loki shakes his head.

“I wanted to check up on you.” Bucky gazes into her eyes which used to be so easy to read.

“I’m fine as you can see so I believe you can return to ignore me.” Y/N begins to shut the door.

Bucky blocks the door and Loki opens it again.

“Hear him out.” Loki urges and Bucky looks at him grateful.

“He’s not here on his own accord.” Y/N huffs.

“That is untrue.” Bucky says, moving into the room.

“Really? So my coven didn’t have to make you feel bad that I have no one like me and you’re here out of respect for our friendship and not guilt?” She sneers at him.

“It’s difficult for me too okay? Do you think I like losing the one genuine friend I have? Do you think I like ignoring you or being ignored by you? Walking on eggshells?” Bucky bellows and Y/N looks up at him. His hands tremble.

“You’re making it look extremely easy. You cut me off once. You could do it again.” She accuses.

“I made a mistake.” Bucky admits.

“Are you making one again or is it written in blood?” She enquires.

Loki watches, feeling the turmoil across the bond, he tries to send comfort. But he had seen this play out before where it broke her and chipped away at her heart. 

“‘i watched you leave from a distance, 

i had myself erased from your existence, 

in the laughter of others i reminisce,

the melodies and stories we once shared,

i hear your haunting echo in the smiles of your friends,

as they speak to you while for you i no longer exist,

i wish i could tell you i remember you beyond that night,

right from your curious eyes oh so bright,

to the calloused fingers that wiped my tears,

while delaying their own,

i wish i could tell you you still have place in my heart,

but you’re not here and by you i’ve been exiled.’ ” Loki recalls and recites the piece Y/N wrote a week after Bucky left.

Y/N closes her eyes, the pain of that piece returning. 

“You wrote it for him.” Loki states, “Him leaving had a deeper impact than you have let on.” 

“I’ve been left enough times that it shouldn’t hurt.” Y/N shrugs, biting the inside of her cheek.

Loki sighs, the pain from that piece had twinged at his heart as well, a longing for a companion, a confidant. 

“I should not have cut you off.” Bucky states, stepping closer to her, “I really wish I could take it back. That day when Maria spoke to you, I had to restrain myself from jumping through the phone.” He admits.

“Everyone leaves or they don’t remain present Bucky, like I told you. Like I told him.” Y/N wants to shrug it off.

Loki holds her hand.

“We both were stupid.” Bucky admits.

“Extremely stupid.” Loki agrees.

“Find it in that big heart of yours to forgive me?” Bucky offers her his hand, she gazes into the blue of his eyes.

“You mean it? Or is it just so you can leave after?” Y/N looks at him, tears building in her eyes.

“Clark offered me a place in the coven. I will be taking it. To be your annoying friend who won’t give you a second to breathe, and also to spend Nia’s money on cheesecakes.” He smiles when she breaks out into a watery grin. Rushing to hug him as she still holds Loki’s hand. Who only smiles and then looks at James.

“You hurt her again, you will get hurt.” Loki warns, Bucky nods.

“Loki—,” Y/N tries pulling away from Bucky, her eyes are aglow.

“Bucky, let her go—,” Loki is cut off when the bond pulls him in as the vision takes over.

“No, Loki, I can help—,” Bucky is cut off as he is placed on the street opposite the book store. 

He frantically looks to the side, Loki stands next to him much more calmer. Seeing Loki something urges the similar calm to wash over him. They watch Y/N gazes around confused inside the bookstore.

‘Welcome James,’ The voice that spoke to Loki and Y/N a day ago greets.

‘What is this? Loki what are you doing—,’

‘You need to look up.’ Loki points and Bucky peers at the sky.

‘Hello James.’ 

Bucky takes several steps back.

‘I know, it is a lot to take in, but I needed to speak to the three of you.’

Both men look at Y/N stuck inside the bookstore.

‘Well first the two of you, then her together.’

‘Why?’ Both ask synchronous.

‘Because my dears, that is my daughter, to whom the two of you have cause quiet a bit of hurt.’ The voice grows stern and both men pale slightly.

‘I assure you we’re doing our best to repair the damage.’ Loki states.

‘You will not erase her memories, no matter how much she pleads.’

‘How—,’ Loki looks bewildered.

‘Child.’ The moon all but exasperatedly sighs.

‘Wait erase, what?’ Bucky looks from the moon to Loki.

‘Y/N asked, if after everything, I would manipulate her memories to make her forget everything.’ Loki informs.

‘Can you actually do that?’

‘James, I suggest you also not traverse upon that tempting path.’ The moon reprimands.

‘I won’t do it.’ Loki agrees.

‘Good, now James, you will not join the Celestials.’

‘But—,’

‘That isn’t your coven, you may partake, but do not be inculcated.’ 

‘Is there a reason you’re telling us this?’ Bucky raises an eyebrow.

‘You three, are what it will come down to, however, my child in the bookstore is a self sacrificing being.’ The voice sounds worried.

‘Wait, are you suggesting she—, I will not allow it. How has Luna not seen this?’ Loki implores, frantic to prevent losing his mate.

‘Luna is only shown one possibility, when the future keeps changing, destiny remains not on one side.’ The voice explains.

‘Please, there must be something you can do.’ Loki begs.

‘We won’t let it happen.’ Bucky places a hand on his shoulder.

‘I trust the two of you will keep her safe and even yourselves. The others who are part of your entourage are more guided by their selfish desires and outcomes.’

The men stay quiet, considering the words. Bucky had realised it would turn into every person for themselves. Clark was playing a strategy though it made sense it had selfish connotations written all over. 

Loki gives a glance towards Y/N, who was trying to pry the door open. He had to be selfish to protect her. Even if she may want to save everyone. He’d be selfish for the two of them. 

‘So she is the child that was hidden?’ Bucky questions, 

‘Yes. She was under my care, unfortunately much like my own dark side, her destiny was cast into darkness. An unfortunate consequence of the spell.’

‘But even you begin to reappear.’ Loki states.

‘As did the two of you.’ The voice sounds almost smiling.

The bookstore door opens and Y/N runs out, crossing the empty street to Loki and Bucky.

‘I was stuck inside.’ She explains.

‘I was stuck in an Uber.’ Bucky winces at the memory and lie.

‘I was at my own home.’ Loki adds onto the lie.

‘So basically, where we were the night you took a flight to Romania.’ Y/N concludes, then gazes at the moon.

‘Hi.’ She waves.

‘Hello, child.’ The moon’s voice greets.

‘I needed the three of you here so I could tell you that I will be providing a fraction of my abilities to enhance you already present abilities.’

‘That, that is generous.’ Y/N nods and looks at Bucky and Loki.

‘Indeed.’ Loki says and Bucky nods.

‘Do you know what will occur?’ Y/N questions.

‘I know all the outcomes but not the one that will occur. What you make happen shall be written.’ The voice explains and Y/N feels a soft caress over her hair.

‘I always found solace in you. If no one watches at least you watched in the night.’ Y/N smiles at the memory.

‘I know destiny has not been kind. However you’ve remained much kinder. Remember to show yourself kindness. All three of you. Now I believe it goes without saying that keep quiet about this.’ The voice grows stern again but then chuckles.

‘Oh and Bucky, your Gramma says she loves you and is proud of you, also she says she gives Y/N permission to swat your head because you’re being an idiot pushing a friend away.’

‘What if he wasn’t ready to deal with what I remind him about?’ Y/N tries defending.

‘He’s thinking he’s making it easy for you, when its difficult for you both equally, same like your mate here. Always thinking leaving is the solution.’ The voice chuckles repeating Gramma’s words.

‘That sounds like Gramma alright.’ Bucky chuckles. 

Loki looks at the moon a question dangling at the forefront of his mind. 

‘You will have to speak to your mate about that, Loki.’ The voice says and Y/N looks at her mate curiously. 

‘Very well. But do you approve?’ He counters.

‘If you plan on not repeating certain actions then, yes.’ 

‘I intend not to fall under false guises.’ Loki assures.

‘Can the mate know?’ Y/N chuckles as she questions.

‘In due time, my love.’ Loki kisses the back of her hand.

‘Now you must return my children, remember all that was said..’ The voice echos.

The street dissolves into grey nothingness, then the hardwood floor appears beneath them, finally the pale walls of the vampire’s room greet them.

“Hey…” Nia walks in hesitancy lacing her entire demeanour. 

James looks at the other two, realising how close all of them were standing, he takes a step back. Loki and Y/N remain closer.

Nia looks at Y/N, “Can I speak to you? Privately?” 

Loki and Bucky exit the room, heading to the room given to Bucky for his stay.

As the door closes Nia turns to her best friend, “I know you used to read two character x reader fanfics but with the bond is that possible?”

Y/N furrows her brows and Nia can see how the blush creeps up from the edges of her cheeks to the apples.

“We aren’t in a polyamorous relationship, if that is what you’re implying.” She shakes her head, bewildered at why Nia would think that way.

“I only ask because that looked too close to be platonic and Loki had a smile on his face.” Nia narrows her eyes, she doesn’t want to use her ability but her best friend had just lost the two men and regained them.

“Look, Bucky and I weren’t talking, and today at practice I sort of lashed out, I told you about how its annoying me right him getting all best friend with Sierra?” 

“Yeah, I don’t like it either he’s rubbing it in your face.” Nia’s lips twist into a disdained frown.

“Well Loki recalled a piece I wrote after Bucky left… and we talked it out, and Loki could feel my happiness through the bond.” Y/N answered with honesty.

Nia regarded her with a look, Y/N rolled her eyes.

“You can use your powers if you don’t believe me.” She shrugs.

“It’s not that, I just, I worry. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Just keep your heart safe.” Nia pulls her in for a hug.

“Is everything okay with you and Thor?” Y/N questions, hugging Nia tighter.

“He’s withholding something, I mean with him twisting up the entire Loki leaving and not protecting you. I, I, he feels like a stranger.” She confesses.

“Why don’t you ask him?” Y/N suggests.

“I don’t want to use my powers… but I fear if I do not, then…” She trails off.

“At least the truth will be known, Nia you can’t have him not tell you things. Look these primitive creatures, no offence.” Y/N gives a half smile and Nia laughs.

“Yeah the older man kink came in.” Nia giggles.

“They think not telling us is protecting us. Which sucks.” Y/N rests her head on Nia’s shoulder.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you do smell good.” Nia chuckles.

“Thanks, I was worried about not being appealing to out quote unquote father in law.” Y/N giggles and Nia looks horrified.

“I didn’t think of that.” Nia bursts out laughing as well, just as Loki and Bucky return to find Y/N smiling wide and seeming less tensed. 

They looked at each other once again, with a nod. Solidifying what they had decided is to be done.

—<>—

When Loki and James reached the room of the latter they stood for a few moments collecting their racing thoughts.

Loki observes James, the furrow in his brows as the storm he held in his blue eyes.

“May I ask you something, James?” Loki decided to open the conversation.

Bucky looks up at the vampire, nodding.

“Why did you not actually maintain contact with her?” The question swirls in his mind.

“It was a mix of things, I didn’t know she was a witch. I did not know I could tell her. She was already falling for you. Almost thought we could have something…” Bucky looks out of the window and then at Loki.

“Our bond was in the earlier stages.” Loki informs, sitting on the chair by the bed. Bucky follows suit and takes a seat on his bed.

“I know. When our hands touched, yours and mine, when I had my awakening. I had this weird feeling as though I was burned. I brushed it off. When I thought about it months later I realised it felt like holding ice in the palm f my hand for a long time.” Bucky shrugs, then chuckles, “Whenever I picture it it feels like a bunch of snowflakes not melting against my skin.”

“What did you feel with her?” Loki watches as a fond smile takes over the warlock’s face.

“Akin to a tingling, when I think about it, like sparks?” Bucky pronates his hand, gesticulating his confusion.

They remain silent for a few more moments.

“May I ask you something?” Bucky asks and Loki chuckles.

“You may.” 

He draws a deep breath, “Can you actually alter memories?” 

There is a hopefulness woven into the question and Loki sighs.

“I possess that capability. However, I have never been able to penetrate your mind, much like Y/N’s I can only enter when she permits me. Alas, I cannot do what you may ask of me.” Loki admits and James fidgets with his fingers.

“Is it because of the moon or your own choice?” Bucky locks his gaze with Loki.

“Both.” The vampire answers without delay.

Bucky covers his eyes and lays back onto the bed.

“How are we supposed to save her? How am I supposed to save her when I’m this fucked up?” He contemplates.

Loki stands to look at him, “I ask myself the same question.”

“Do you really?” he sits back up. Loki nods.

“Do you have an answer?” Bucky questions.

“I do, however it isn’t insightful.” Loki gives a humourless chuckle at Bucky’s unimpressed expression.

“Would you like to know?” Loki still chuckles.

“Something better than nothing.” Bucky shakes his head chuckling as well.

“We try our hardest, use every spell, trick, power in the book. We try our hardest.” Loki explains, searching James’ face for a response.

James looks down at his hands again, Loki feels a shiver pass through him.

“You’re right.” Bucky looks up at Loki.

“I am?” Loki quirks a brow.

“It isn’t very insightful.” Bucky deadpans and Loki feels a laugh blooming within his chest, in which Bucky joins.

Present.

Loki stood next to Thor, both holding hands with their respective mates. Bucky remains stoic, a few feet behind Loki. Next to him, a kneeling John who still has several stakes buried into his body. 

Stephen stands back, he had Bucky charm his own home, and laced the entry points with vampire weaves. Emery making a joke that he gifted them a home so early on in their ‘courting’ wouldn’t expedite things. Stephen only laughed at their humour. Relieved that they were safe. To their knowledge no one else had been taken from their close ones. 

So there they stood waiting for the moment it all came down onto, the moment when Alexander would grace them.

The night is illuminated by the waxing gibbous. Y/N finds the wind pick up. Loki’s grip tightens around her palm. 

“They are here.” He says, loud enough to let them all know.

Bucky sends a text to the hidden away warlocks and witch. They operate from their coven base. Bucky scoffs at the thumbs up emoji and deletes the thread. 

“Ivan Vanko.” Thor informs. 

“Electric current, even from a distance.” Loki completes. 

“Malekith.” Loki spots the second person. 

“Teleportation and reality alteration, unlike Loki’s his is not as strong, you have to find the thin strand of actual reality amongst his alteration.” 

“Karla Sofen and Wong.” Strange identifies the two he had met years ago. 

“Time manipulation, summoning of fears from the psyche for Wong. Karla has photokinesis, and gravity manipulation, which could end with being speared on a stake.”

“Outnumbered.” Bucky comments, spotting Maya as they near to enter the field of vision of the humans. 

“Maya.” He says and they give him a once over then their gaze shifts to John, a pleased smile on their face at his state.

“So electricity, teleportation, reality going to shit, time being altered, a lady who can slow us down and make us float and a shapeshifter.” Nia summarises nodding her head. 

“Ain’t a fair fight.” Y/N murmurs.

“Which one ever is?” Nia retorts.

Bucky chuckles dryly, “The ones where we kick vampire ass.” 

Nia snorts in response.

There are others, about twenty more. Who neither of the four vampires recognise. They stand forming a semicircle, with place left at the centre. A twenty vampire disadvantage.

Loki begins to seep into their minds, carefully trying to formulate weaknesses and strengths.

There is a sudden wave of dread that Bucky and Y/N feel. Loki finds it seep into the bond. 

Two familiar faces come forth and then Alexander enters, his cloak gliding with the wind as he walks forward flanked by Luna and Zemo who wear their cloaks to cover their head. 

“Children, such a warm welcome.” Alexander smiles and there is a twisting feeling in Y/N’s gut. 

“Father.” Thor greets, a pleasant smile on his face.

“I see you have not taken well to your brother.” Alexander tuts.

John looks at his father, “Father.” He speaks against the cloth that harbours charmed pieces of the stake that is kept to muffle his voice.

Alexander turns his gaze back to Thor and Loki.

“I come with mercy, my children.” He stands arms behind his back, “I see Thor has already completed the bond and turned his mate. Welcome to the family, daughter.”

Thor squeezes her hand.

“Thank you.” Nia mutters, they needed to delay his wrath for long enough.

“Manners. Very good, however, mates as young as you, kneel.” He tuts again, eyes flickering to Thor.

“I treat her as an equal father.” Thor defends.

“Very well.” He turns to look at Loki and then Y/N, his gaze lingers on her pendant.

“Open defiance of the rules, Loki, I had high hopes for you. You knew I held you with such high regard.” Alexander sighs, a frown on his face.

“Father, I haven’t completed the bond.”

“She is a Celestial, Loki!” He hisses.

“I recently knew of her status her awakening took place just days ago. Upon my return.” Loki keeps his voice level. Y/N’s heart beats rapidly.

Bucky keeps his gaze set on Zemo and Luna. Their faces remain impassive.

“Yes, John informed me. You do know the rules, a Celestial should be brought to me. Mate or not.” The coven leader reminds, “And what did you do Loki? Hurt one of your brothers for her.”

“He was about to kill her.”

“Lies.” Alexander’s booming voice echos.

“Father, you are the one to decide, I left her. I, you know how I feel about bonds.” The green eyed vampire recounts.

Father’s eyes move to the hands held. His jaw tightening. 

“Explain why is she this close to you then?” He challenges.

“She has changed my perspective.” He admits. 

“Witchcraft!” One of the vampires yells the remaining vampires break into a cacophony of clamour.

Alexander raises a hand silencing everyone.

“You then know the rules, for her survival she must be of value.” He walks across the clearing, moving in front of his coven of vampires.

“Luna, tell her, why were you saved.” He stands back as Luna’s auburn hair gleams in the moonlight as her hood falls back.

“I was a, Celestial.” Luna verbalises, a disdained expression masks her face. Y/N and Nia pretend to be shocked by raising eyebrows.

“I was scouted by Father before my mate found me. He was taken by your witch coven, right in front of my eyes.” Luna’s eyes pool with venom.

“There, there, my child.” Alexander runs a hand over her hair, Luna stiffens.

Zemo keeps his lips pressed into a thin line.

“I wonder did you receive your gift Loki?” Alexander gleams when he sees the red rims encircle Loki’s eyes.

“The monster inside you seems to be taken with her.” Father comments.

“He’s more primal than I am. I had given over control to him once.” Loki blinks and his eyes return to green.

“Hand over John to me.” He demands, looking at Bucky, “Oh, warlock, were we not kind enough?” 

Bucky chooses not to answer. Looking at Loki, to carry out their plan.

“He’s under my control.” Loki says, Y/N looks up at Loki. 

“So you won’t mind asking him to hold your mate while John revives himself with a sip.” Alexander smirks, watching Loki reveal all his cards.

“I cannot permit him to drink from her.” Loki clenches his teeth. 

“She is already on thin ice.” Pierce reminds. 

Y/N can feel his apology through the bond, the stars dull as Loki gazes at Bucky. Whose own eyes are ice cold, closed off. They had decided this; to pretend he was under control. 

Bucky raises his left hand, fingers abducted, he makes a fist all the stakes connected with John’s body fall to the ground. 

John stands, wobbling, undoing the cloth from around his jaw. 

“He isn’t under control father.” John groans at the open wounds. 

“Warlock. Weave.” Loki mutters and Bucky begins to draw a weave around John’s feet. 

“Small enough to only allow standing.” Loki adds and Bucky follows. 

“Loki.” Thor says in warning, the tick in Alexander’s jaw foreshadowing trouble. 

“Let him go and summon the blood bag.” Loki watches Alexander, as Y/N watches the bottle hover in front of John and he eagerly drowns in the blood as it fills him, the wounds begin to close keeping him out of danger but he needs the rose salve. That none of their entourage was willing to offer. 

“Missed you, little flower.” 

Y/N shivers as John’s voice is too close. Bucky clenches his hands into fists. 

Loki moves, pulling Y/N behind him. Eye to eye with John. 

Bucky lightly brushes her upper arm trying to provide quiet comfort.

“I suggest you join Father.” Loki warns with a tilt of his head, “You are alive only because of him. Otherwise you would have died at my hands the minute you tried to touch her.” 

“Bold of you to think she isn’t going to die.” John trudges forward as Alexander welcomes him with open arms. 

“My son.” He pulls John into an embrace, “An embarrassment.” 

John’s eyes widen. 

“Father—,”

“Silence. Go join your brothers and sisters.” Alexander instructs, releasing him and looking into Y/N’s eyes. 

“Have you practiced any spells?” He enquires as though this isn’t a conversation that rests the fate of her living status. 

“I have.” She keeps the answer bare minimum. 

“What was your first spell?” He takes a step closer. 

“Levitation of objects done without intention.” Y/N takes a breath when he takes a step closer. 

“What can she do with intent?!” Another vampire bellows. Alexander raises his hand once again to keep the clamour at bay.

“Do you remember me?” He tilts his head and her mind flashes to the forest. 

“Y-Yes.” She stutters.

“You’re afraid.” He remarks, smiling. 

“I don’t want to lose him.” Y/N admits, looking up at Loki before looking back at Alexander. 

“I recollect telling you that you are ordinary. By virtue of my rules, you need to perish, since you are unworthy of being in my coven.” He shrugs.

“Father,” Loki takes a step forward, Y/N holds him back.

“Why did you erase my coven, I have no one remaining.” She questions and Alexander smirks.

“The only use you have is being a blood bag.” He moves forward raising his left hand and Loki is pulled harshly away from her. Alexander stands two feet away, taking a step forward when he’s held back. 

He looks at Y/N, she gives him a smile.

“I may be an ordinary vampire, but I’m not an ordinary witch.” She smiles taking two steps back to create more distance.

“My coven will protect me.” Alexander warns from his placement in the weave.

“Ask them.” She challenges and John steps forward.

“You bore me honestly.” Bucky has the tree roots wrap around John’s feet pulling him to the ground.

“Coven, see this witch trying to kill me.” Alexander lies, and his coven is about to go into uproar

“Kill you?” Y/N raises a brow. Her eyes begin to glow.

“I wish I could just end it all by killing you.” 

“You, you’re her. Just like her.” Alexander stammers, all of his children gaze at him confused.

“Do they ever talk in normal conversation or riddle me this only.” Nia rolls her eyes.

“Right from the smell, to taste, to appearance.” Alexander reaches out but is stopped by the weave again.

“Loki,” Thor says in warning seeing sparks near Vanko’s fingers.

“I’m going inside his mind—,” Loki groans, as his body jolts on the floor.

Bucky looks towards Vanko, who gazes back at him a smug smile on his face. As Bucky too falls to the floor. Y/N’s jaw clenches, Alexander jolts within the weave.

“Call it off.” She warns Vanko. He only continues.

“I said call it off.” Y/N warns again, Alexander twists in agony.

“I won’t.” Vanko says with a heavy accent.

“Very well.” Her right hand is raised and Vanko falls to the floor, withering in a manner similar to his own power. 

Bucky and Loki pant as they begin to recover.

“I warned you.” Thor says helping his brother up. Stephen assists Bucky.

“All clear.” Stephen whispers.

“Next time do better than warning, brother..” Loki murmurs.

The electric current is stopped by Y/N, Vanko and Alexander wheeze on the floor as others remain silent spectators.

“Oh you defiantly have her fire.” He praises dusting himself off, Y/N looks at him in disbelief, “Oh that? That was just theatrics, a child like you is no match for me, darling.” Alexander gives a menacing smile.

“Karla be a dear and have them all but her stay on the ground.” Alexander turns to face the woman who only nods before closing her eyes.

Thor grabs onto Nia as she begins to levitate, the toe of her shoes making small indents as she struggles to catch on the same begins to happen to Thor and then Stephen and Bucky.

They flail their arms around trying to get away from Karla’s ability to no avail.

“Run.” Loki whispers as he is being raised.

“Loki—.” She looks up at him, hand brushing past his fingertips.

“Y/N, run.” Bucky adds from his spot hovering over them. His left arm glowing with the blue lines as he draws the runes that may work.

Y/N still stands, raising her hands to cast the next spell. Alexander takes as step towards the edge of the casted weave.

“Run!” Loki bellows and Y/N takes off just as Alexander steps out of her weave with ease chasing her down the forest.

“I see you want us to return to where I was supposed to taste you from your mate mark. The sternum. I remember.” Alexander’s menacing laughter reaches her ears as she stumbles over the roots delving deeper into the trees.

“Fuck.” Y/N stumbles, the rocks causing cuts on her palms.

“I can even smell you better now.” Alexander is close, too close.

She turns to the right, Alexander’s chest greets her vision as he towers above her with a smile.

Rendering her frozen in place. Grabbing her hand, he brings her palm to his mouth, licking the oozing blood.

“Please.” Tears pool in her eyes.

“You even beg like her, my mate.” He clutches her hair, pushing her down to her knees.

“What is your motive to return?” He pulls at her hair harsher.

“I’m—I don’t know her I swear.”

“Oh you lying little witch.” Alexander pulls her up and throws her towards the tree trunk, Y/N conjures up a shield that has her stop inches away from hitting the tree.

“Magic at your fingertips, your smell. Even the bond mark in the very same place.” He grips her again by her neck.

“The very first Celestial. My mate. I killed her with my bare hands, centuries ago. Now you return, as a mate for a son who cares little for the throne. Weak like his father said. Only worried about having a mate.”

She wheezes, “Loki is not weak.” 

Alexander squeezes her throat harder.

“Why that imbecile of a son?” Alexander questions again as dark spots cloud Y/N’s vision. Her hand raising to push at his face, at the scent of her blood his grip loosens. 

Darkness still clouds her vision as she is laid on the ground. Her whimper comes out as a hoarse cry. Alexander groans and spits out the blood he drinks.

“Why do you not taste pleasing anymore?” Alexander grips her shoulders, then throws her back against the ground. The rocks piercing into her skin. 

Y/N only blubbers incoherently in response. 

“Tell me why are you haunting me, Faria? Why do your eyes still haunt me? Why have you returned. I made sure to end all your bloodlines. I ended all chances of an heir.” Alexander demands, taking the name of his mate long gone.

Y/N still denies, Alexander grabs her jaw harshly.

“You are her. You were supposed to be mine.”

Darkness ebbing towards the centre of Y/N’s vision, body feeling heavy and the moon shining upon her. Giving into the darkness felt so right.

“She said an heir would come, Faria how is it, you grace me with your own presence?” He pushes her body up against a tree, flashes of Faria’s bleeding body overlay upon Y/N. Their resemblance striking, right down to the taste of her blood and placement of the bond mark.

Alexander needs to know how is she back after nine hundred years of dying in his arms. 

She blinks, swirls of blue, green, blue, green-blue slate, then pitch black.

Nine Hundred and Ten Years Ago.

The village is quiet, the celebrations of a young couple’s marriage having simmered down. 

Midnight the candles are all extinguished and the men are preparing to stand guard. Even the young groom.

The various religious figures of the villages near and far warned them, for the creatures that roam through the forest. Preying upon innocents and taking captive others.  

Creatures that God hates, who are a gift of the devil. Only the devil is capable of such atrocities. He sent from hell to harm the good people and their piety. 

In one of the houses where the dying embers of the fire illuminate mirth filled smiles. In the house that harbours love and mercy. Alexander pulls Faria close, her lips meeting his, as he cherishes her in his arms before he has to leave for the nightly watch. 

“Alexander,” She giggles as his hair tickles her neck from where he places kisses over her shoulders. 

“Your happiness says otherwise my love.” He smiles, the moonlight dancing off of her features, magnificent he declares. 

“You must be on your way.” She chastises, helping him fix the overcoat her hands fiddled with, she smiles up at him once again. Her heart filled with love but also a longing to tell him the truth.

“What is it?” Alexander questions, cupping her cheeks, sensing her discomfort. 

“Nothing, just, when father chose you, someone older, I was worried, but then you, Alexander you, you bloomed into being this wonderful, kind and loving man. I cannot fathom my good fortune.” Faria kisses the palms of his hands. 

Alexander’s blue gaze softens as he takes in her words. 

“My dear, if I can protect, cherish and love you. My duties as your other half are complete.” He smiles at her. 

“I know.” She smiles as well. 

“Now, I shall return earlier if possible, till then lock the doors and do not let anyone enter.” Alexander instructs, grabbing his rifle from the stand. The hardwood floor creaks under his weight. 

He only turns away from the door at the groan of the lock and her whispered declaration of love.

Heart thumping as he joins the men he grew up with to guard the perimeter. Beginning at the church and ending at the common well. 

They walk in synchronised steps, soft thuds upon the ground. Holding lanterns and their weapons closer.

As they complete the third round of the night, it is almost close to dawn. The men gaze longingly at their homes, seeking the comfort of their family and the warmth of their beds.

“Boy go on home, must not keep the wife waiting.” Alexander tells the young groom, whose expression lightens up. Making everyone chuckle.

“Are you sure?” He questions, still skeptical.

“Go on boy, it is almost dawn, these creatures hide in the dark of the night.” He says, waving the boy home as Nicholas rolls the cigarettes for the remaining eight men.

Eight small red dots are ascertained by the young groom, as he turns to wave a final goodbye to the men. The men watch as the boy is engulfed into the darkness and his scream echoes through the village.

The cigarettes are thrown and riffles are mounted, shooting into shadowy blurs. As the sun’s first rays bless the village, the carnage does not stop. Alexander groans spurting blood from his mouth, tears from his eyes as he is dragged from the front of his house. The embers consuming the small cottage Faria called home.

The moon shone brightly the night everything was taken from him. The creatures of the night drank from him every day till he lost count. Then they began feeding him. Not food, something bitter, the viscosity akin to blood, they kept him in a dark cellar.

One night he groaned in pain as the last of the drops of his drink cascaded down his throat.

The entire night was a loop of all of his memories even the ones from childhood he thought were well forgotten, he clung onto the one of his last night with his love, his Faria.

When his eyes opened, as the visions of his memories died down. He was no longer in the dark cellar. He was placed in a room. One where the fragrance from the rosewood desk was pleasing. There was another sweeter aroma, turning his head to the side a man with a silver streak in his hair.

“My name is Ikaris.” The man says, his dialect much different to Alexander’s village. 

“That decadent scent that is urging you to hunger, is for blood.” Ikaris explains, opening the door of the room. The young bride of the town stands trembling.

“You must feed to survive, feed to gain strength. Feed to fight with your new family.” Ikaris pushes the girl onto her knees.

“I will not harm one of my own.” Alexander, leaps towards the opposite side of the room, rubble from the wall drizzles around him at the impact.

Ikaris only smiles smugly. Alexander wishes he could close his eyes before the vampire beheads the young bride, setting his thirst into a burning inferno. 

As Alexander drinks from the young girl he realises tears don’t flow from his eyes. Only a stinging substance coats his eyes. Mourning he drinks deeply. At so many losses he amassed in the time he was here.

Alexander then rose through their ranks, his ability to know what another vampire’s ability is and its weakness, it helped him defeat several, turn even more humans into his new breed. 

Ikaris remained the designated leader as they moved through towns and shelters, it had been more than a year since he was turned. Allowed to return to his old down he saw the burnt pieces of the home, that was turned into nothing.

The only memento of his Faria that remained was the necklace he hid under the hollow stone step, now covered in soot.

He carried it with him, the blacksmith forged it with moons and stars and all Alexander saw was his wife. 

They walked now surrounding a witch coven shelter. Enemies of vampires, out to hunt them down. He tucks the necklace back, into his shirt. it rests against his chest where her head would lay. 

“I suggest you move forward, Alexander. Entice a pretty witch for us.” Ikaris gleams, stroking the cheek of his mate Thena. 

Thena, mindlessly would follow every word Ikaris uttered. The power of a mate’s command, never withdrawn. Placed when she was human, carried onto her immortal life.

Alexander nods, moving out of the shadows and walking at a human pace. The shelter is alit by lanterns. He crosses the threshold, the people stop and murmur.

“I seek refuge.” He requests, “Please, I’ve been travelling for days. I shall leave tomorrow, but I need shelter just for tonight. My legs are weary. Please” He pleads, sinking to his knees.

“We can take you to our matriarch.” One man says, offering his hand. Alexander looks up and the man bore an eye-patch. He takes the hand, following with a grateful bow of his head.

“Yes, Joseph?” Faria’s voice greets Alexander’s aching ears. He looks up at her. Faria gasps.

“Alexander?” She stands from her place, shakily reaching for him when he closes the distance between them. A flower blooms between them, it’s petals slowly breaking away and dancing across their chests.

“Soul mate.” He whispers, she cries, pressing her lips to his.

“They took you—,” Faria cries, pulling herself closer to his colder body.

“I thought you were gone—,” Alexander’s words come out like a sob.

Their hands tracing over each other, memorising them.

“How—, why didn’t you tell me?” He begs to know why she hid her heritage.

“The village, they hated all creatures…”

“My love, I would have not, I, I can’t still believe you’re alive.” He smiles, after months of mourning.

“Alexander I was with child—,” Faria admits and then a loud boom echos as the tented structure begins to collapse.

“Faria!” Alexander pulls her close and moves swiftly.

“Never trust witches, little vampire.” Ikaris warns, as his coven sheds blood through the shelter. Alexander holds off resorting to use his inner beast, the most primal aspect of being a vampire.

Faria watches as his blue eyes begin to be surrounded by red rims, she hands him the stake. He looks at her once then in a blur Ikaris’ body slumps in his arms. Thena screams but is silenced, slowly Alexander makes his way through the vampires that would not stop killing. 

The ones that remained, bowed to him. As he stood next to Faria. Wiping her tears. Vowing to protect her. Vowing to never let anyone touch her. No one would take her away.

Nine Hundred Years Ago.

Ten years he still kept her human, so she could match his apparent age. Their bond established and blossomed akin to the flower that graced them. Each time they thought about the other.

When they broached the subject of the lost child, Faria admitted she cast a spell giving the child away to the moon, to protect nurture and cherish. 

Alexander wondered if he would ever see the child again, ever hold his own flesh and blood in his arms, turn the child when the time came into an immortal being so the three could remain a family.

Faria only smiled tightlipped, whenever Alexander spoke of the child that she hid with the moon. The man who harboured kindness and love had turned into those very ruthless creatures her mother taught her to stake.

She thought he would be different, maybe their love would cast a curse upon his dark side. Leave it cast away while they spent eternity, together. A pair that went against the odds in the best way.

Ten years watching him rip apart bodies, watching him pick and choose, watching him build an army. Watching him turn into the shell of a man. No trace of the kind soul she married years before.

Faria’s long silk robe, glided along the marble flooring as Alexander carried her through the hallways of the castle, his castle. 

His lips attached to her neck, as her fingers twisted into his hair. He hums at her decadent flavour. Their bond thrums between them. Content, happy. Blooming.

He rests her down on their shared bed. Faria, cups his face. Her robe undone by his hands as his blue eyes meet her own. Faria gasps as he traces their bond mark with his thumb. 

“Alexander.” She calls out, he smiles. Then nips at the mark, “Please—,” “Shh,” He instructs.

“Alexander, please, you need to stop this madness.”

“Faria, I told you I would once, I took over this part of our lands. I will cease to do all that you turn your eyes away from. I vowed it.” He raises himself to look down at her eyes, the ones that showed him his entire world. For ten years he had her, since he was turned, since he began to rule in this immortal life, since she was gifted back to him.

He places his forehead against hers, eyes closed. Relishing her warmth.

He had handpicked those he allowed in his coven. Amassing an army worthy of the jealousy and fear of his enemies and a mate who remained his only source of pure sweet blood.

His witch, that gave him more power than immortality allowed, his celestial angel. Forged by the moon herself, birthed in the night of a new moon. Illuminating his life with the light of the full moon. His love, his mate.

Alexander opens his gaze and the bond filled with distress.

“Faria.” He accuses, her hands pause above his back clutching the charmed stake.

“Alexander.” Tears pool in her eyes, the tip of the dagger pierces through his back.

“Why?” He pleads.

“You have gone mad with power. You are harming innocent souls.” She accuses, driving the stake deeper, “Those young children? Those witches? How could you kill them? Just for having no talent to add to your army? What is this madness, my love?” She pushes hard, to drive the stake deeper.

“My love, why must you have me, kill you?” He asks, clutching her jaw. The pain from the one movement causes her hold on the weapon to break.

Faria scrambles to the side, summoning her crescent moons to defend herself. A gift by the moon, parent to daughter. The stake falls from his back with a clang. Alexander’s eyes wild, red rimmed with no hint of mercy. 

He uses is speed to appear before her, lifting her off of the ground, her crescents drive into his sides, he only flares into a deeper anger laced with betrayal. With a loud growl he bangs her head into the wall as she wails, blood spurting from her mouth and nose. Alexander only brushes his lips over her own.

“My coven will keep returning, to bring you to your death.” Faria warns, “You will die at the hands of an heir.”

“I can control my children. I vow to kill your coven, every time they rise. I will seek them out and have them lay on the ground. Your precious celestial body prefers her children of the night and not you wicked witches and warlocks.” He moves to grab her necklace, but it disappears.

“It has been decided. The heir of the Celestials will cause your demise. You will search and search with no respite.” Faria says, coughing more blood as the ache from her head gains crescendo. 

“You pit my own child against me? Is that why you gave away my heir?” Alexander questions, the bond begins to crumble around him, their world begins to fall apart.

“Twins, we had twins. One was born and the other hidden by the moon herself.” 

“How dare you take away my heir!” He slams her head back into the wall, tears of blood pool out of her eyes.

She looks into his feral gaze, one more time, “You will perish, my love. I vow.” She says with her last breath.

Alexander wails as the bond breaks into pieces, numbness overtakes him from the inside out. 

Burning his veins. 

Igniting his arteries with revenge. 

Cursing his nerves with a death he would not allow to touch him.

-x-x-x-x-

a.n: hey everyone! hope you enjoyed the chapter, also it isn't total sixteen chapters anymore, there might be eighteen (or more idk), as i was writing i realised that wrapping everything up warrants for more chapters so we're in for more *dances*, also i apologise for pushing back the date i was struggling with this update because i was scared about how i wanted the plot to go and i spoke to @stevesmewmew and they helped me realise that its my story so i can do what i want with it so get in the car people its about to get more *gasp* moments

taglist open! just comment below to be added!

tagging: @camerons-specialinterest @stevesmewmew@pandaxnienke

[officialrailscales]

11.5” URG-1 | Mk27 Mod 1

Anchor | Terra Bronze

QTR-LT Stop | Terra Bronze

G10 XOS-H MLOK Scale | TerraCore | Honeycomb | 3-Slot

G10 XOS-W MLOK Scales | TerraCore | Honeycomb | 3-Slot

HTP Solo’s MLOK Scale | FDE | Honeycomb Texture | 1.5-Slot

HTP Solo’s MLOK Scales | FDE | Honeycomb Texture | 1-Slot

QDX Sling Mount | Terra Bronze

- RS