#And he ran away because of that and not bc of abuse

[rainbowberriesandcookies]

"Orihime being afraid of Ichigo's hollow power shows she doesn't fully accept him."

I see this take and similar ones pop up from anti fans of Ichigo and Orihime and try to say that Orihime is bad, in the wrong, etc. for being afraid of his hollowfication powers when her first encounter with a hollow was her brother Sora.

I know the anime did a lot of damage to Orihime's character - especially by taking these scenes out and altering them compared to the manga - but when Ichigo begins to undergo the same process as Sora, it only makes sense that she's afraid.

Not because she's afraid of Ichigo but because what he can become.

And just like Sora said, "It would be [her] fault"

Also - this is to counter the whole "Ichigo and Orihime were never close/barely friends/just acquaintances" that I see floating around often too.

But all in all - Orihime was never afraid of Ichigo. She was afraid of what he could have become.

As Acidwire, Sora targeted Orihime because of her growing bonds with Tatsuki and Ichigo. He even says that he attacked them because they tried to tear him and Orihime apart and that she already knew why.

For clarity - what I'm about to say isn't me saying that Sora was abusive in life and I'm going to specifically try to use his name as a hollow "Acidwire" as much as possible to express the slight separation between Sora as he was while he was alive and Sora as he was when he became Acidwire.

Especially since early on, it established that hollows - while they were once former humans - often end up being twisted versions of the people they once were.

Now onto the point -

The "You already know why" isn't dissimilar from how abusers, manipulators, etc. often talk to their victims when they're angry or upset. It's similar to the silent treatment in a way where it implies that the victim intentionally made the abuser upset.

He references her prayers for him every day helped ease his own suffering before she became friends with Tatsuki and entered high school before she stopped praying for him altogether. He then says how it hurt him that when she got home, all she would talk about was Ichigo.

For one - the fact that Acidwire knows this proves that Ichigo and Orihime were at least already friends by the time the manga started. In contrast to the anime where Ichigo outright says to Rukia that they've "never had a real conversation"

Anyways - this here in and of itself proves Ichigo and Orihime at least knew each other beyond just acquaintances - because they were close enough for Acidwire to notice and be hurt by it.

She tries to defend herself but he cuts her off before attacking Ichigo again

Acidwire tells her to come with him back to when it was just the two of them. In the context of the story, this would basically be him killing her.

However, this is also a tactic abusers use known as isolation.

When she questions why she should go with him and why he'd hurt Ichigo and Tatsuki before saying that the brother she loved would have never done anything like this.

I feel like in the anime, it kinda breezed by these moments which are honestly heartbreaking in hindsight and key for the leadup to why Orihime was afraid when Ichigo would use his hollow mask.

but Acidwire's response to her refusal and saying that the brother she loved would never do this is to not just harm her, but blame her and say that he is going to kill her.

In the time that she's become friends with Ichigo and Tatsuki and slowly grew happier, Acidwire blamed her for his own despair and sadness.

The kind, loving older brother that she had always known became a monster that would kill her and everyone close to her, and it would be her fault that he did because she stopped praying for him.

Here, it shows how Acidwire views Orihime not as a person who should live her own fulfilling life, but as an object who should live for him because he gave up his entire life to raise and protect her.

Once again, not to say that Sora was an abuser or abusive person, but this line of logic is the same one that abusive and toxic parents often use when it comes to emotionally abusing their children. Saying how the sacrificed so much for their children to control how their children live their own lives when the child never asked to be born. Similarly, Orihime didn't ask to be born or ask for Sora to raise her.

Sora did because that's the kind of person that he is, but Acidwire turns these loving traits of Sora's into a manifestation of abuse.

And even though she has nothing to be sorry for... She apologizes to Acidwire because that's the kind of person she is.

It also shows how she puts on a smile so that way others don't have to worry about her. She didn't want Sora to think that she was sad and hurting, she didn't want him to worry about her so she buried and hid her own sadness.

She apologizes to Acidwire for making him sad and (in what she thinks are probably her last moments) says that she loves him and that she didn't mean to hurt him.

As he's slowly regaining himself, Sora admits that he already knew that Orihime was just trying to shield her sadness from him but still wanted her to pray for him because it was only in those moments that her heart was his.

Ichigo then tells him that it's the same, those who die and those who survive are just as sad as the other.

It's in this moment Sora had fully regained himself, enough to know that he couldn't stay in a form like this or else he'd come to hurt Orihime again. If he killed the little sister that he raised like a daughter over his own heartache, would he have been any better than their own abusive parents?

And finally, the two get to say goodbye properly.

Also - a side note - a lot of people criticize Orihime's passive nature and how she never seems to fight or argue with anyone but it's because the one time that she did have a fight with someone, they died and became a monster.

This entire sequence emphasizes why Orihime always tries to reach out to others in need and never argues or fights. She doesn't want her friends or even strangers, to become like how Sora became Acidwire.

Now, Rukia had changed/erased Orihime's memories following this event but it likely didn't work as intended since during the Rukia rescue arc, Orihime mentions that she's been able to see hollows and spirits ever since the encounter with Acidwire.

Now let's go ahead and jump ahead to VL Ichigo -

Going to Hueco Mundo - Ichigo already knew without having to be told or convinced by anyone that Orihime was in danger. Aizen did his best to make it look like Orihime was a traitor to the Soul Society and Ichigo never bought it

It's being put in plainer and plainer terms that Ichigo transformed as a response to Orihime's call for help.

Even if you want to argue that there was a mistranslation or that Ichigo doesn't directly reference Orihime, even if you remove all of the text the sequence of events goes

Orihime's cries

Ichigo began to move and get up - functionally coming back from being dead

Once again, even if you want to remove the text avoid arguing about whether or not it was properly translated - nevermind the fact that in Japanese pronouns are often omitted and there is a big assumption to just know who/what you are talking about -

Even without text, the images show Orihime crying, and Ichigo beginning to come back to life.

Both she and Ulquiorra question whether that is Ichigo

Now that said, I think that Ichigo vs Ulquiorra is one of the most brutal and best fights in the series. Both Uryu and Orihime know that this isn't Ichigo.

Yet remember how it is established that hollows often become twisted versions of the people they once were? This is a power that Ichigo can't control and yet uses it to protect the person who called out to him.

While I don't disagree with the notion that this is also White protecting Ichigo, it doesn't change the fact that Kubo intentionally drew Orihime and Ichigo rising side by side multiple times. Even without text, Kubo places emphasis on her and her cries for help against VL Ichigo - not White or Zangetsu.

And when Uryu tries to bring him back to his senses what does Ichigo do? Put a sword through him.

Once again, even if you want to remove any and all text, Kubo puts VL Ichigo paneled side by side with Orihime, and when Ichigo comes back to his senses

The first person that he sees is Orihime.

As much as I want, I'll save my yapping about Ulquiorra for a separate time.

But for a moment, even if only briefly, his desires to protect were twisted in a way that hurt those around him, and once again - Orihime was the catalyst.

Ichigo says that he didn't want to win like this - showing that he views fights as something more honorable than what White/VL Ichigo had done. His last memory being that he had a hole put in his chest, also shows that he more or less "blacked out" and had no control over his actions.

What is one of the things established when people become hollows?

That they lose control of themselves and their desires are twisted.

The difference between Ichigo and Acidwire is that Ichigo wants to protect Orihime while Acidwire wanted to own her - which is why Ichigo never directly harms Orihime even as he loses control of himself.

But - all of this yapping is to show how from Orihime's perspective, hollowfication and hollow powers aren't good. They turn people into monsters that hurt their friends and loved ones.

It's also established that Orihime is the type of person who will internalize her own thoughts and feelings (it isn't ""hubris"" as some people call it).

Whether or not you want to argue that it was an assumption that Ichigo became a VL because she cried for help, it doesn't change the fact that she still cried for help and that Ichigo became a hollow/VL.

From her own perspective, she blames herself regardless of whether or not you think that it is an assumption on her part that Ichigo became a VL to protect her.

And after all - why wouldn't she blame herself when her first encounter with a hollow - Acidwire - blamed her for the monster that he became?

I know I skipped over him using his mask in the fight with Grimmjow, but I already yap too much and wanted to try to keep an already long post short(er).

Anyway - all of this illustrates the trauma that Orihime has regarding hollows and hollowfication. It's not truly her fault - yet in both instances she blames herself.

And not just Kubo, but Ichigo himself is fully aware of this.

Which is why when he tells her not to worry and that he's still himself is so important - because it shows that Ichigo has learned to control that side of himself while at the same time, being aware that Orihime is someone who has been traumatized by hollows and hollowfication.

Ultimately - she doesn't want Ichigo to become a monster like Sora. For Ichigo, it's growth in his own ability while for Orihime it's comfort in knowing that Ichigo won't lose himself fighting to protect those he cares about.

In short, she isn't afraid of Ichigo - she was scared of him becoming a monster like Sora had.

[zorostitties]

Aurora; 11 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 9k

A/N: HELLO WORLD!!! This one came a bit late but here it is!! Honestly this chapter was the trickiest to write bc I didn't know how to still make most of it entertaining. I'm proud of myself for DESTROYING this writer's block with my own hands, though. 😈 With this chapter, we reach the mid point of our story!! Not literally, though, because I don't know how many chapters we still have ahead of us lol BUT we're def in the middle. ANYWAY! Feedback as usual is VERY MUCH appreciated! If you've been reading this fic up until now and never commented, please send me a hi or anything. I'll love to know how you like the story. DON'T BE SHY AROUND ME BABYGIRL 😈 Enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

Caution was the rule that dominated Olrox’s life.

He had learned from a young age that in order to survive in this world, you have to be cautious about everything. The people you let into your life, your enemies, the alliances you make; before speaking, you should listen. Before forming an opinion, you should take as much information as you could find. Before taking action, you should think about it – plan it, revise it, think about it again and again and again.

Caution was what kept Olrox alive while his city and his people burned. Caution was the reason why Olrox was still alive to this day despite all odds being against him. And caution was what told him he had to leave the Old World soon.

Olrox knew when a war was lost; he had tried to turn the tables in the past, and it led to nothing but pain. He knew better now. Sometimes, retreating is the best course of action.

Erzsebet had retrieved the second half of Sekhmet’s soul. Olrox tried to intervene by giving Alucard an advantage in the run after the mummy; the son of Dracula had failed to take it. There was nothing he could do anymore, not now that Europe became Sekhmet’s territory.

Olrox had to be cautious for the sake of his inner voice – even more than usual. Erzsebet was still no goddess, but she had managed to summon the soul of one back to the land of the living… and that was a clear commandment for him to stay away.

Which is why Olrox was shocked at himself when he left the docks and flew towards Paris.

Every instinct in him was yelling at him to turn back. Her stench was worse than ever; he could feel her power from miles and miles away. It made the tiny hairs in his arms raise, made him feel genuine repulse. He shouldn’t be anywhere near her. That wasn’t fear or cowardice as he knew Mizrak had assumed. That wasn’t even just his caution.

No… that was something that ran deep within Olrox – in his body, his spirit and his soul.

It was a law he shouldn’t break.

Preys shouldn’t sleep around predators. Earth shouldn’t stop spinning. Rain shouldn’t go upwards. Fish shouldn’t be out of the water.

A god shouldn’t be anywhere near another god.

That is why Olrox had been so cautious ever since the night Tenochtitlan burned. He had to take care for something other than his life – his inner voice.

But Olrox was marching towards Paris anyway, and even though he knew the rules better than anyone else, he couldn’t stop himself.

Perhaps because a part of him never got to terms with what happened to his people, all these centuries ago. Perhaps because, although he promised himself to never join any cause that wouldn’t benefit him only, he never got over the fact that he had failed more than once to fight for justice.

Or perhaps because Mizrak’s saddened brown eyes didn’t leave his mind for a second.

And spend a lifetime running from her? No.

This was Mizrak’s response to Olrox’s invite to come to the New World with him. Not because he didn’t want to go; but because he didn’t want to live a life hiding from Erzsebet.

And perhaps that was enough of a reason for Olrox to want to defeat her.

The closer he got to Paris, the more his heart tightened. He felt his limbs get weaker, a strange ill sensation set in his guts. He’d never felt the presence of another god so strongly like that; before, Erzsebet was just feeding off Sekhmet’s power. Now that she had settled another half of the deity’s soul, things got entirely different. Much more complicated.

The greater force overwhelms the weakest. Erzsebet-Sekhmet had claimed territory over the entirety of Paris, even if she did it unknowingly. It made things even harder to navigate.

But Olrox remembered that Mizrak, a simple human being, was somewhere down there fighting, so he shouldn’t make excuses.

Even so – he had to be careful. Facing Erzsebet directly would be unwise.

Then, he decided to focus on Drolta.

He never liked her. She reminded him of the Spanish Christians too much. Her obsession disgusted him. But he had to admit that she was strong – much more now in this horrendous form.

So Olrox wouldn’t be able to face her in his usual form, too.

The transformation was longer than he expected, took too much energy from him; even in this form, he wouldn’t be able to give his all. Sekhmet’s presence overwhelmed him. But Olrox pushed forward anyway until he no longer resembled a man, but a giant, glorious winged snake in the night sky.

He came in time to save Alucard from a certain strike.

Purple lightnings of pure power slashed the sky.

Drolta knew what she was dealing with immediately.

She groaned, wrapping her arm around her own stomach for a moment – the exact spot where the power jolt hit her – before taking flight once again. She narrowed her eyes and took a defensive position.

“Quetzalcoatl,” She hissed in a mix of surprise, anger and pain. “I should’ve known you were just a snake!”

Olrox attacked again.

The sky got brightened up in eerie purple flashes as their battle unraveled above the ceilings of Paris. Drolta was strong – much stronger than a regular night creature, but her previous fight with Alucard had taken a toll on her. Meanwhile, Olrox was fighting with half of his usual strength; being in Sekhmet’s territory weakened him deeply. In fact, transmuting into the Quetzalcoatl form was something he shouldn’t even be doing, but fighting in his normal form against her would be suicide.

The scales were evenly balanced in this fight.

Drolta slashed his body with her sharp nails – so strong that they could pierce even through his usually impenetrable scale armor, making him snarl in pain. Olrox sent more and more lightnings in her direction. She flew in zigzag, trying to avoid being hit, and every time one missed, it destroyed entire chunks of buildings; any time it hit, Drolta yelled in agony.

Olrox understood Alucard’s strategy: by keeping Erzsebet and Drolta apart, they’d have double chances to defeat them. He knew some magicians – including the Belmont boy – were somewhere down there fighting Sekhmet’s vessel. All he had to do was keep her busy while they worked, even though Olrox didn’t know how much longer he could take…

His inner voice was unsettled; he could feel His discomfort, how it tugged at the corners of his consciousness, making him lose focus for a second. Back away, He ordered Olrox; Go away. Take distance. You must not be near them. You must not.

Yes, Olrox knew that; he knew what he was doing was foolish and Olrox didn’t like to be foolish–

Wait.

Near... them?

But Sekhmet was the only deity there–

His eyes passed rapidly by the city’s cathedral, meters and meters away from where he was. There… there was a figure laid in front of its central doors.

And at that moment, the world stopped.

Nothing else mattered. His inner voice. Drolta or Erzsebet or Sekhmet. His caution.

None of that mattered anymore because it was Mizrak and he was bleeding to death.

A desperate snarl erupted from his throat as Olrox flew in his direction, leaving an injured and tired Drolta behind. He crossed the streets at an unnerving pace, way too fast for a creature so big, making humans down there gasp and run, not knowing if this was another enemy.

Olrox didn’t care about any of them. He got close to the ground, his dragon form dissolving in a black cloud until what resurfaced was a desperate man running towards Notre Dame.

As soon as he got a good look at Mizrak, his heart dropped.

The black haired monk bled from the stomach – he had been pierced. He was laying on the floor, his fist tightened against the wound; his breathing was shallow, his lips already had a nauseating blue color. Olrox knelt down by his side and immediately took him in his arms. Mizrak was getting cold.

This can’t be happening. It can’t be.

Mizrak, who was nothing but fair and virtuous and kind; Mizrak, who weeped at the death of unknown people and put his life on the line for them, even if he was just a fragile human. Mizrak, who made Olrox remember the best mankind had to offer.

And he was dying.

Olrox ripped some of Mizrak’s cape and pressed it against the wound to stanch the bleeding; he gently tapped his face, called his name a few times. To his relief, Mizrak opened his eyes – but there wasn’t much strength to him. His olive skin was sickeningly pale.

Mizrak looked confused, as if his sight was out of focus. Then, Olrox saw the moment his pupils dilated almost imperceptibly.

“Ol...rox?” He managed to speak somehow – his voice was but a ragged, painful breath.

“Shhh. Don’t speak.” The vampire shushed him softly before, with the utmost care, helping him to sit. Mizrak groaned in pain. Cold fear crept up Olrox’s body; he had already lost way too much blood. Medicine wouldn’t save him, and as far as Olrox knew, there weren’t any healers powerful enough to help in France…

It was then that Olrox realized that the cold he felt had nothing to do with fear.

His eyes widened.

The air smelled of coal and sulfur.

He looked behind his shoulder in time to see the tall shadow approaching.

Olrox brought Mizrak closer to him protectively. The entity grinned at them, trembling in what could be interpreted as excitement. At that moment, Olrox damned that fucking Abbot for the hundredth time for dragging Mizrak into all this.

“Old Man Coyote,” Olrox hissed. “He’s not for you.”

His inner voice got agitated, which surprised Olrox. He has been in the presence of this demon before, and He didn’t show much of a reaction… what had changed?

The shadow laughed mockingly – it was like multiple voices overlapping – before disappearing once again.

He had to take Mizrak out of there as soon as possible.

His original plan was to just teleport both of them out of there, but fuck – Olrox had exhausted himself with Drolta; the little strength he still had was being suppressed by Sekhmet’s presence. Olrox helped the monk get to his feet, putting Mizrak’s arm over his own shoulders. Olrox didn’t know how damaged his organs were, so he had to be delicate. Slowly, Olrox started to walk out of there.

“We’re not far from a safe place,” Olrox explained. “Hold on a little longer.”

Mizrak whimpered in response. His head was hanging low, he panted with difficulty. It just made Olrox feel even more desperate.

Then, out of nowhere, the monk raised his head.

A new emotion clouded his face.

“Olrox…” he called in a weak voice again. The vampire shushed him.

“Save it. Everything will be okay.” He didn’t know if he was trying to convince Mizrak or himself. The monk, however, got more and more agitated.

“No… Olrox… y-you have to…”

“Don’t exhaust yourself.”

Mizrak groaned again – but this time, it sounded more like frustration.

He looked over his shoulder; his eyes widened.

Using the little strength he still had, Mizrak put the entire weight of his body on Olrox’s side – making him lose his balance and stumble closer to the sidewalk.

“What–?” Olrox tried to say.

He had no time.

Mizrak got away from Olrox’s grip in a surprisingly swift movement and pushed him into an alley on their left.

The vampire fell on the cobblestones, completely confused; why did he do that? Did he not want to be saved? Was he disgusted of him–?

Light.

It came out of nowhere. It was blinding. It brightened up the whole sky.

Olrox watched with widened eyes as the avenue he was standing in a second ago was completely engulfed in light. He thought it was an explosion at first, but no boom or shockwave came. He felt his stomach drop, his fingertips shake.

Mizrak stood under the light with closed eyes.

Then, Olrox started to hear the screams.

They came from all directions, screams of the purest agony. Screams of death.

Things slowly made sense in his mind.

Olrox approached the corner of the alley. Hesitantly, he stretched his arm towards that light. His fingertips burned. He immediately flinched away.

That was sunlight, even though the sun itself was still hidden behind the eclipse.

He retreated and gazed at Mizrak in pure shock.

Mizrak… somehow, he knew that was going to happen. At the last minute, he pushed Olrox into that alley; it was between two tall buildings, reigned by shadows. Sunlight wouldn’t reach it from the position it was coming from.

That fragile human was on the verge of death himself, and even so, he saved Olrox’s life.

His heart tightened.

After no more than two minutes, the light diminished. Olrox didn’t care to learn where that came from, who caused it, and why it made his stomach drop like that. All he cared about was taking Mizrak in his arms again before he could fall. All he cared about was bringing Mizrak closer to him, cradling him, caressing his face.

Weakly, the monk put his gloved hand over Olrox’s.

He was visibly in so much pain. Even so, Mizrak’s half lidded eyes were full of determination and… care.

He took a deep, difficult breath before speaking.

“F-Fight.” Mizrak whispered. “For m-me.”

Olrox’s heart tightened even more.

The vampire never expected he’d find someone like this in the Old World. He never expected that this painful sweetness would take control of his actions again, of his sanity, overwhelming everything else – his usual caution, his selfishness, even his inner voice.

Mizrak represented everything Olrox loved about humanity.

So, if this fragile human asked him to fight – he would.

Olrox brought their faces closer to each other’s. He pressed his lips over Mizrak’s softly; his hand caressed the monk’s face gently. It was a chaste kiss – much different from all the kisses filled with passion and heat and anger they had shared. And yet, that simple press of lips ignited fire through Olrox’s soul much more than anything they’d done to each other before.

He could feel that something was happening not far from there. An explosion of red power that made him feel even more ill. That didn’t matter. Olrox just wanted keep closer to Mizrak for a second more.

Finally, he delicately laid Mizrak on the floor and got up. If he wanted to save the monk, he’d have to act fast; each wasted minute could cost Mizrak’s life.

Olrox was weakened. Olrox’s inner voice kept telling him to run away. He ignored all that and marched towards battle once more.

That day, Mizrak would lose his mortal life. And yet – he got something far more precious, far more powerful in return.

That day, Mizrak gained the heart of a god.

Drolta was tired.

Tired of the incompetence around her. Tired of these humans. Tired of waiting. She had waited for over a thousand years to awaken her goddess; century after century, she had roamed the Earth after a suitable vessel. Her only goal was to bring Sekhmet back. Everything she did was to comply with her duty as a High Priestess.

And she was tired of Erzsebet.

She took care of this woman for almost two centuries; fed her with her goddess’ holy blood, trained her, pampered her. Drolta killed thousands for Erzsebet’s sake. Drolta made a pact with a demon for Erzsebet’s sake.

And now that she had finally retrieved Sekhmet’s Ba after centuries of searching, how did Erzsebet repay her?

By being humiliated by a bunch of humans.

Drolta was tired.

So when she finally bit Erzsebet’s neck and sucked her blood, she felt nothing. There was a time when maybe, maybe, Drolta felt some sort of affection for her. Not anymore. Not now that she had ashamed and failed her.

This power belonged to her, after all. It had always belonged to her.

Drolta felt a wave of pure power penetrate her skin, her bones, her muscles, every centimeter of her body. It hurt like she was being pierced by a million needles, like she was being chewed by the biggest crocodiles of the Nile. An animalistic growl erupted from her throat; red energy revolved her, cloistered her, pierced her, clacking the air. The air got hotter than the midday sun in the Sahara. Her leathery skin smoked.

Pure agony was what her body felt; her mind, however, was enlightened – as if such excruciating pain broke the boundaries of consciousness.

So much power. It was as if she could see and hear everything at the same time, but all made sense; she could feel the weight of a spirit much, much higher than her permeate her mind. A spirit filled with anger and hate and blood thirst.

It almost felt like an inner voice, commanding her to attack.

Sekhmet, the Goddess of War; She Who Mauls.

Maniacal laughter escaped past her lips. The Belmont boy, knelt on the floor whilst holding the woman that carried a whisp of Sekhmet’s soul, looked at her with widened eyes. Yes; feel scared, be frightened, for I have returned. She was tired of him, too. Drolta had faced Belmonts in the past and she hated all of them throughout history. It was time for that clan to end.

But most of all – that girl he was holding had to die. Who did she think she was to get anywhere near Sekhmet’s Akh? How dare she disturb her goddess’ soul like that? She didn’t know what Sekhmet needed, what she represented. She had no right to be anywhere near her.

After these two, she’d go after that snake. Drolta never trusted Olrox enough, but she didn’t think he’d have the guts to actually face her… and most of all – she didn’t know what lied within him. You must destroy them, her inner voice growled in a wrathful female tone that did not belong to her.

The son of Dracula was next in line. She was also sick of him. He had killed her once, and she’d have her revenge. Drolta would not give him another chance to escape.

And lastly…

Ruby.

She had to die.

It was all Erzsebet’s incompetence, Drolta knew; all she had to do was keep that girl locked and away from the world, but she obviously failed. Drolta spent so long breaking into her, making her submissive – and it all went to waste in less than a week. Now, things were out of control. Ruby had obliterated most of her army. Ruby was remembering, and she shouldn’t remember anything.

But Erzsebet was dead and Drolta had retrieved Sekhmet’s power, so there was no use in keeping her alive anymore. It was time to fulfill her part on the pact and finally get freed of it.

Yes. Everything was within reach. Everything. There was nothing she couldn’t do; there was nothing she couldn’t achieve; there was no one powerful enough to stop her. I am Sekhmet, Goddess of War, her inner voice growled. And I want my revenge against the humans who have wronged me.

Drolta would be the harbinger of this revenge.

She raised her right arm, ready to slash the Belmont boy with her sharp nails–

And it was stopped midway.

It couldn’t be. Not him again.

Alucard stood between the couple and her, halting her attack with his long sword. That… that half-breed bastard was putting himself in the way again. She couldn’t stand looking at his face anymore, she’d took her time to kill him and she’d make it as painful as possible–

Drolta felt a shiver run down her spine.

A shiver?!

No. That couldn’t be possible… she was the Goddess of War and Revenge. She was more powerful than anyone on Earth. Nothing should be able to make her shiver.

Alucard let a raspy, angry scream. It was the first time he let any sort of extreme reaction in all the times they fought. The air around him became different. Drolta… Drolta could see things she couldn’t before. There was a red aura growing around him as rapidly as flames on hay.

His sclera got red.

And at that moment, Drolta knew why she felt a shiver.

His power and his aura and his eyes made her body remember the most powerful creature who had walked this Earth, the only man who ever made her feel real fear, the only man who ever made her obey.

Drolta shouldn’t have forgotten – but that was the son of Dracula.

He didn’t get turned into a vampire, he was born as one. The Vampire King’s masterpiece; the perfect alchemical aberration.

And Drolta realized with anger that during all of their fights until that moment, Alucard wasn’t giving his all.

She growled back at him and tried to attack with her left arm. Alucard deflected it and pushed her back with his sword. No. No one should be able to push her back. She was… she was stronger than anyone else, wasn’t she?!

Drolta launched herself towards him again – this time, he wouldn’t escape. Alucard’s face was distorted in a scowl of anger now. He pulled his cape to cover his body and teleported in a beam of yellow light – only to appear behind her.

She had time to turn back and see as Alucard summoned a giant ball of pure fire and lava in her direction.

Drolta stopped it with her bare hands, but that thing kept pushing and pushing and pushing with the force of thousands of tons; she grunted with the effort, felt the ground beneath her crack, the air get so hot that it boiled the skin of her palms. No, she wouldn’t be defeated. She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t.

Drolta yelled when she finally managed to kick that thing away in the Belmont boy’s direction. Unfortunately, he deflected it somehow.

For the first time, she focused her gaze on him again.

The Belmont boy walked towards her, took his whip in his hands; a serious, stone hard expression covered his features. She could see it, too – the blue aura growing around him, invisible to the human eye. He’d never transpired as much power as in that moment. Shouldn’t he be at least tired after fighting against Erzsebet?

The girl behind him, the one that carried a whisp of Sekhmet’s soul…

Mortals work better when they are in their best feelings.

Love is extremely powerful in magical terms.

Drolta found all that pathetic.

Another maniacal laughter erupted from her throat as both men got ready to fight her: Alucard’s sword embedded in red fire, the Belmont boy’s whip embedded in blue. Pathetic is what both of them were. All of them were pathetic – these humans soldiers, the weak vampires that died in battle, Erzsebet, this disgusting city. They all would soon be trembling under her feet; it’s where every living creature deserved to be. Fear is what would unite this world. Fear would be her crown.

They attacked.

Drolta used her hair tentacles to deflect them. Each tentacle had an extremely sharp blade on their tips; they were able to cut through concrete and cobblestones with ease as they whipped around violently. Perhaps Alucard would be able to heal from such injuries, but the human boy wouldn’t – so she focused mostly on him.

Both men immediately understood her tactic.

They fought in synchronicity as if they were connected somehow, attacking while protecting each other. The Belmont snapped his whip around him, twirled mid air to create a field of protection around his body while pushing her tentacles away; whenever one got too dangerously close, Alucard cut them. Drolta was able to regenerate the tentacles fast with her new powers, but it still burned whenever one of them were able to slash her.

That wasn’t going how she wanted it.

Drolta used her nails to try to cut them, her legs to try to kick them, her tentacles to try to strangle them; they always somehow got away. The Belmont summoned fire and ice and lightning against her, somehow piercing through her thick skin; the red flames of Alucard’s sword burned her and his sheer swordsmanship confused her, forced her to be on her toes the entire time. The vampire made sure to tank her heaviest blows so the Belmont could attack with his magic freely.

Alucard jiggled from side to side in the blink of an eye – so fast that even her sharp senses failed to follow. Drolta couldn’t expect where his next attack would come from; his sword twirled in the air creating arches of death, trying to reach for her neck before falling in the hands of its owner again. He was even faster now compared to their previous fights, even more brutal, his precision heightened to two hundred percent.

Excruciating pain.

Drota widened her eyes. Blood spilled from her right shoulder and hair tentacles.

She was so focused on Alucard that she didn’t see when the Belmont sent a sharp ice shuriken wrapped in electricity her way.

Alucard didn’t give her time to recover.

He pushed her up towards the sky – up, up, up, each push more and more violent; his attacks came from all sides, his sword slashing and piercing her leathery skin, each cut deeper than the other. Alucard’s strikes were so fast and so intense and so disorienting and so painful that Drolta couldn’t help but stop for a moment to try to protect her body with her arms and tentacles; he didn’t give her any opening.

Enough!

Drolta screamed in both anger and pain. She whipped all of her tentacles towards him at the same time, finally managing to push him; Alucard fell many meters away back to the ground, creating a crater where he hit.

She smiled. There’s no way he didn’t get slashed by her tentacles this time–

The whip tangled around her neck.

Drolta didn’t have time to prepare for the kick on her face the Belmont struck, propelled by his fire magic. He kicked again, punched her head, kicked again; Drolta growled, feeling rage fill her more and more. That human scum had the audacity to hit her with his bare hands?!

She clasped her hands together and hammered him down to the ground. The boy hit the cobblestones on his back, blood spilled from his lips. Drolta grinned at his immobile figure; she made her nails grow until they were as long as a blade before flapping her wings and flying down on a beeline towards him. Oh, she’d pierce through his chest. She’d take pleasure in ripping his heart out with him still alive.

Her nails were centimeters away from his body…

And then, she couldn’t feel her left hand anymore.

Drolta had forgotten about the ice shuriken he made earlier.

It cut her entire hand off.

She yelled in agonizing pain and stumbled away, holding the severed arm close to her chest. He… he cut her hand off. That fucking human boy cut her hand off.

Anger as red as the sky above her rose from her heart.

Her body got once again wrapped in energy. Crimson electricity clacked around her; her tentacles moved around frenetically like angry snakes. No. That couldn’t be happening. She had achieved the power she sought for over a thousand years. These two couldn’t be offering her enough of a challenge… that didn’t make sense.

Her inner voice growled.

Will you continue playing around with my power like this?

Drolta was tired.

She turned to face them at the exact moment they would attack together.

Time stopped.

Drolta gazed at both men. They were frozen in the air centimeters away from her. They had painful expressions. She could see them struggling to break away from her spell.

The woman laughed and straightened her posture. She lifted her severed arm. After focusing a bit more energy there, it regenerated in the blink of an eye; bone, muscle, veins, flesh and skin rebuilding a new hand in seconds, much faster than Ruby’s healing. Her inner voice was right. She’d already given these two insects enough time to play around. She’d been fighting with what she knew; using her body and strength. But… that was only the surface of what a goddess could do.

Drolta focused on this new power, letting her heightened consciousness travel through it. The larger spirit that now inhabited her body had an infinite reservoir of power. So, so much power; so much energy. The possibilities of what she could do were infinite. They went much beyond just making her skin thicker, her muscles bigger or her tentacles sharper.

It didn’t matter that her opponents were the son of Dracula and this Belmont. Alucard wasn’t Dracula himself, he only had a fraction of his father’s power. And the Belmont… he was just a human magician.

Her newly grown hand got wrapped in pure energy.

She grinned and pointed her hand towards Alucard.

He had to go first. Not only because she despised him, but because he was hindering her attacks the most, confusing her, getting in the way and acting as a shield for the human boy.

Drolta unleashed a wave of red energy his way.

It blew on his face. Alucard groaned in pain as he was sent flying back meters and meters away, hitting a building on his way – destroying half of it – before hitting the floor the same way he did to her earlier at the Notre Dame.

And then – it was just her and the Belmont boy, frozen in time in front of her.

Drolta chuckled with cruelty again. He didn’t have his vampire shield anymore. That wave of energy would tear him to pieces.

Slowly, she aimed her hand at him.

For every suffering, a wisdom is gained, she thought. Maybe if this fight hadn’t happened, Drolta wouldn’t have realized the true extension of her new powers. For that, she was grateful. A goddess shouldn’t fight like a mortal. Now, she knew how to obliterate this city with a flick of fingers. After the Belmont boy was done – and after she beheaded Alucard; she knew that wasn’t enough to kill him – she would have no enemies powerful enough to face her anymore…

Her thoughts got interrupted by a punch.

Drolta got dizzy for a moment.

What?!

The Belmont boy – he broke away from her freezing spell and landed his fiery fist on her face.

Love is extremely powerful in magical terms.

Drolta growled. She hated him. She hated him. She HATED him! He had to die. He was going to die right now. She raised her hand wrapped in power again to annihilate him – there was no way this human boy would survive her next attack–

The next second – all her power was gone.

That girl the Belmont put his life on the line to protect… she was floating in front of Drolta, holding her wrist with her much smaller hand.

And yet, when she squeezed Drolta’s wrist, she yelled in pain and fell to her knees.

Drolta looked deep within that girl’s eyes. They were golden, her irises were vertical like a feline’s. Her grip was hotter than Alucard’s lava ball; her expression was ferocious like a lioness’.

At that moment, Drolta finally understood.

That girl wasn’t stealing her goddess’ power. That girl… somehow she did what not even Erzsebet was able to do.

She became an avatar.

Drolta wasn’t looking at a human girl. Drolta was looking straight into the eyes of Sekhmet.

She shivered.

A part of Drolta wanted to smile, wanted to bow. Finally… after a thousand years, after uncountable nights of prayers, after sweat and blood and tears dropped, she stood in front of her goddess. The one she always fought for. The one who possessed her utmost loyalty and adoration. The one whom Drolta went to the ends of the world for; the one whom Drolta went as far as making a pact with a demon for her sake.

Drolta had fantasized of this moment many times before… the day she’d finally have Sekhmet walk on Earth again; and, if she died trying, the moment her goddess would meet her with open arms at the duat, after Anubis had weighed her heart as righteous and deserving of eternal rest.

But that was not how Sekhmet was looking at her at that moment.

Her golden eyes were clouded by rage and disapproval.

And, for the first time since her mortal days, Drolta felt shame.

“I am Sekhmet!” Her goddess growled as a golden aura grew around her like flames. “Guardian of the Dawn, Child of the Sun, Mistress of Healing!”

Drolta’s entire body shook in pain.

“I did this for you!” Drolta claimed. “All of this! I did it for you!”

“Made yourself into this unclean thing!” Sekhmet vociferated – and, as she spoke, Drolta realized that her inner voice was repeating the same words in unison; she felt as the soul within her and Sekhmet in front of her connected their consciousnesses into a single one. “Filled my temple with atrocities! Fed my soul to a disgusting walking corpse!”

Tears welled up Drolta’s eyes. Her chin trembled.

“So that you could live again!” She tried again; her goddess had to understand, she had to… “I-I thought it was what you wanted! I thought it was what you wanted!”

“It is time to balance the scales!” Sekhmet declared.

At that moment, reality hit Drolta.

Her beloved goddess. The one she had worshiped and served her entire life, from her mortal days to her vampire days to her reborn form…

Sekhmet was disappointed at her.

No. It was more than that.

Sekhmet despised her.

Tears dripped down Drolta’s cheeks.

“I thought it was what you wanted…” she whispered one last time. Pain much stronger than any physical attack slashed through her soul.

In less than a minute, Drolta’s determination was gone.

Her existence was pointless.

She did not fight as Sekhmet started to pull her power – her souls – back from Drolta’s body. She yelled in pain until her throat ached. She yelled for all the years gone to waste. She yelled as she felt her heart breaking into a million pieces.

Drolta weeped for the only real love she ever had as it turned its back on her, forever.

Alucard hadn’t completely healed the wound in his chest when Annette– Sekhmet intervened in the fight.

He almost sighed in relief when she did. He barely made it out alive of Drolta’s last attack; Richter wouldn’t have stood a chance. He stayed knelt on the floor holding his chest. Surprisingly, her attack made a lot of internal damage, but his skin wasn’t pierced – which didn’t mean he didn’t get hurt or wasn’t in pain.

But that pain could wait for now.

Because Richter was trying to reach Annette’s body as Sekhmet pulled her souls back.

Both of them – Annette and Drolta – were involved in a gigantic golden aura, as bright and as hot as the sun. Her power was jarring, he could feel it with every centimeter of his body. Richter made his way towards Annette with difficulty; he covered his arms with a layer of ice to try to lessen the burns before hugging her from behind.

A part of Alucard – the methodical part – was annoyed that this boy was intervening in the process. That was their only chance of putting Sekhmet’s souls where they belonged: out of anyone’s reach.

But Alucard’s mortal heart spoke much, much louder this time.

Because Richter was just a boy. Much stronger than the average human, carrying the heavy Belmont crest on his back with the responsibilities it possessed, one of the few mortals on Earth who could actually be a threat to a goddess.

But he was still just a boy in the end.

And like all Belmonts, he carried a heart too big, too sincere. It was a burden and a blessing at the same time. His heart made him experience the world in more intense ways than any other human Alucard ever met.

Richter was a Belmont. Like Juste, like his grandfather, his great-grandfather… like Simon. Like Trevor.

And on top of that, Richter was in love – and Annette could die at that moment, be consumed by Sekhmet’s power. This boy with a heart too big wouldn’t know what to do if he lost the one he loved the most.

So Alucard had to step in before he’d do something he would regret.

“Richter. My friend.” He called softly, resting his hand on the boy’s back, right over the Belmont crest.

Richter looked at Alucard with round blue eyes – scared blue eyes. I don’t care if we live in eternal fucking darkness, just leave Annette alone!, are the words that had just left Richter’s mouth. Alucard knew Richter didn’t process the true gravity of these statements, but at the heat of the moment, anything could become true.

He needed someone to be the voice of reason.

Alucard looked at him with empathy and quiet sadness.

“You know that’s not what she’d want.”

Richter gulped.

He tightened his eyes for a moment before finally – hesitantly – letting go of Annette.

Both men stepped back.

The golden aura between Annette and Drolta got stronger, more volatile. Tears of blood dripped down Annette’s eyes; Drolta screamed in pain like a hurt animal. The light got so strong that they had to protect their eyes.

Finally, with a last agonizing yell, that volatile aura exploded.

A shockwave hit them. Annette let go of Drolta’s wrist, each falling in a different direction; Richter rushed to catch her body before she could hit the floor.

Sekhmet’s presence was in this world no more.

Alucard would’ve sighed in relief if Annette weren’t in such a critical condition.

Richter was knelt on the floor while holding the girl in his arms. She was unresponsive. Richter called her over and over again, on the verge of tears; the scene made Alucard feel as if a cold hand gripped his heart.

He stood at some distance to give them space. In moments like this, Alucard wished he’d be fit to summon healing – it was one of the rarest forms of magic in existence. Healing someone else takes an absurd amount of energy… and this form of magic is not part of a vampire’s existence.

So there was nothing he could do at that moment but watch.

Richter was so young... he shouldn’t have to experience this type of loss so soon, especially when he didn’t even have the chance to confess his true (obvious) feelings.

You said you’d be here; make her feel it’s true. That she can always come back to you.

These were the words Alucard told him.

So, with a weak, trembling voice, Richter started his whispered confession.

His blue eyes were drowning in tears, but he still tried to sound firm as he described quietly the moment they first met. It even felt wrong for Alucard to witness this moment of fragility; he’d rather not be there at that moment, but he couldn’t walk away when they weren’t sure if their enemies were really gone. So Alucard chose to stand away from his field of view, but still protectively close. Richter held her gently.

“I can’t imagine the world without you, Annette. Any of it,” his voice was but a hopeful whisper. “Not hearing your voice, not seeing you roll your eyes at me, not waking up to know that whatever happens, somewhere, you are there. Please… don’t leave me. Please.”

Alucard tightened his lips. He felt genuine sadness at the boy’s heartfelt words.

...Something changed.

Annette’s body started to shine. Richter widened his eyes, startled.

But that shine was very brief this time. When it disappeared, Annette was herself again; her usual clothes were back, her hair was short again.

Alucard held his breath in anticipation.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. They were no longer soulless, her pupils weren’t vertical anymore… just her usual brown and round eyes.

“...You smell of burning,” she said in a weak, raspy voice.

Richter gasped. Fear immediately left his gaze, being replaced by utmost relief and joy. He chuckled and sighed. “Y-Yeah, that would be you… you’re like holding burning coals.”

Alucard watched with a small, serene smile while they hugged each other and cried.

He knew that feeling very well. Being so deeply in love with someone that your heart aches for them. Caring so much about someone that being apart brings genuine suffering. Sharing their sadness, their happiness, wanting to support them at every moment, knowing them intimately – and receiving this same intensity back.

Alucard had fallen in love countless times during his life… but it’s been a long time since he let himself feel it to the fullest. He decided to shroud his heart after so much pain, so much longing. At the slightest sign that he was beginning to develop feelings for someone, he’d immediately distance himself. He couldn’t bear going through anything like that anymore.

But at that moment, he realized something.

He’d been running away from pain and longing for so long that he had forgotten how love can be… sweet.

Was… was Alucard ready to feel it at its full intensity one more time?

Would his heart be strong enough to bear this again?

Did he even have the right to feel it, especially considering who this involved? What if the other end was too fragile to take him? Would Alucard take the pain of allowing himself to feel something like this again, only to have it ripped away from him like so many times in the past?

Would it be fair for him and for her?

Alucard didn’t know.

And his thoughts came to a halt when an anguished scream slashed the air.

Drolta.

She held her head, her breathing was irregular… for a second, she looked absolutely lost – almost like a child throwing a tantrum.

Drolta gazed at a confused Annette with pure hatred.

Then – Alucard saw the exact second she realized something.

Her eyes widened. Her back stiffened.

Alucard saw everything that unraveled in the next few seconds in slow motion.

Drolta turned her head to the northeast. At first, the vampire thought she wanted to flee – she was obviously weakened now; she had no power source, no army and no chances of winning. Of course, he would never let her go; his hand already gripped the hilt of the sword.

But then, Alucard saw her expression. The aggressiveness. The hurry in her gaze.

Those were not the eyes of someone planning to run away; they didn’t reflect defeat. That was not the gaze of a desperate woman wanting to go down fighting.

That was the gaze of a woman who had a plan.

And when she extended her giant wings and took flight, Alucard realized.

Notre Dame was at northeast.

He unsheathed his sword and flew.

Alucard hadn’t healed his wound completely; his brusque movement sent jolts of pain through his body. But at that moment, that didn’t matter – nothing else mattered, his mind went completely blank. Because even though Erzsebet was dead and Drolta was weakened and most certainly defeated, she still wanted to retrieve Ruby.

He would never let that happen.

They clashed mid air.

Drolta’s reflexes were slower now. Though she already sensed Alucard behind her, she couldn’t defend herself when he threw a heavy blow against her – sending her straight to the ground again not far from where they stood initially. A crater opened where her body hit, rising a cloud of smoke and debris.

She didn’t even have time to recover. Alucard was already upon her.

Both of them were slower, their limbs heavier, their powers weakened – but none of them wanted to lose. Alucard noticed that by Drolta’s fighting style, she was more worried in brushing him away than actually killing him. Her movements showed urgency. In fact, she looked almost desperate. Alucard was in a hurry, too; he didn’t know if Richter could still fight, considering the amount of blows he took, and Annette didn’t look like she could fight at that moment.

What was her plan? Why did she still want to get to Ruby? Sekhmet had completely vanished, the eclipse was still up in the sky – so what use would Ruby have? That couldn’t be just revenge. Drolta might’ve been defeated, but she would never lash out uselessly like this.

These answers would stay unanswered because Alucard needed to kill her.

He was tired of that woman, of the destruction she had caused, of the pain she inflicted. He’d been tracking her for five years – he needed to finish her right then and right there, he needed to end this chapter of his life. If Drolta staying alive meant Ruby would still be in danger, then there were no questions to be asked. She had to go – and she had to go now.

But Drolta was as determined as him.

She elbowed his chin in a blow that left him dazed; she gripped the hilt the sword and grabbed it from his hands. Then, she kicked his chest–

Right where the internal wound still hadn’t healed.

Alucard lost his senses for a second and fell on his back. He felt the taste of his own blood, his vision got blurred, extreme pain radiated from that spot in his chest to the rest of his body. As if she knew that was where the wound was, Drolta pressed her hoof right there to keep him on the ground. Alucard groaned in pain, trying to push her away–

His eyes widened when he looked up and realized what she was about to do.

Alucard had time to put his forearm in front of his body for some protection before Drolta impaled him with his own sword.

He screamed. The blade pierced through his forearm directly into his shoulder – if Alucard hadn’t moved a few centimeters up, she would’ve pierced his heart. With an angry growl, Drolta hammered the hilt of the sword with her fist with such strength that the blade sank into him, piercing the ground below.

Alucard spat blood. The pain was so extreme that he couldn’t think for a moment. Shit, I need to get up. I need to keep fighting. Get up!

His vision was still blurred when he saw Drolta being whipped from behind.

The woman let another yell of anger and pain before stumbling away from Alucard and turning around; Richter was, somehow, still standing. He had rushed to retrieve his whip which was already soaked in blue flames. His flames were visibly weakened now, showing the true state of his physical condition. Richter’s eyes, however, didn’t looked weakened; he sent a fast worried glimpse towards Alucard before gazing at Drolta with determination.

Alucard could hear the sounds of the fight happening beside him, but he didn’t look; he was too focused in trying to get his sword off him. He gripped it with his right hand and started to push it up. Every centimeter it moved send jolts of more pain throught his body. The internal wound and the wound Drolta had just inflicted hurt, his body was weak, his senses were slow – none of that mattered. He had to get up. He had to get up. Richter wouldn’t be able to fight for much longer. Get the fuck up!

With a last groan of pain, Alucard finally managed to take out the sword, holding it by the blade; it was completely soaked with his own blood. He looked towards Richter’s direction and his stomach dropped.

The Belmont boy was about to get hit with no defense.

“Richter!” Alucard managed to scream…

But a new sound completely engulfed his voice.

A purple lightning slashed the air.

Both Richter and Alucard looked above with shocked expressions as a giant winged snake floated near them.

Olrox hit Drolta on the chest with his electric attack; she screamed in agonizing pain, her whole body had spasms. Alucard didn’t expect that Olrox would come back, especially not to save Richter. The Belmont boy himself seemed shocked, though his eyes had anger and resentment in them.

Alucard took these small moments of distraction to stand up and hold the hilt of his sword again. He’d let himself feel pain and tiredness later.

With his last breath of strength, he ignited his sword in red fire once more.

Richter got the message.

As soon as Olrox’s attack ceased, Richter snapped his whip; it entangled around Drolta’s neck. She was too disoriented to resist. Richter pulled the whip, forcing her to bend on her back.

Alucard jumped in the air.

The sword was ready to come down on her neck.

Unexpectedly, Olrox sent another of his attacks – but this time, he aimed the lightning at Alucard’s blade, wrapping it in purple electricity which mixed with Alucard’s red fire.

Time slowed down once more.

Alucard could see everything with clarity: the air clacking with purple sparks around him. Richter’s blue fire burning Drolta’s neck. The reflection of his red fire on her face. Her widened eyes in an expression Alucard knew very well: the gaze of someone realizing they have nowhere else to go. The gaze of someone finally understanding they are about to die.

With the way Richter forced Drolta to bend, the ruby necklace came to rest directly over her neck. It was time to fullfill the promise Alucard made to Ruby and to himself.

The blade came down on Drolta’s neck.

A sanctified silver sword. The purple magic of a god. The red fire of a dhampir.

Nothing could withstand that.

The ruby stone was shattered to pieces.

Drolta’s thick skin offered no resistance.

And then – an explosion.

The three of them were sent flying back. The explosion was red; it had a strange cold feeling, it smelled of sulfur. Alucard had time to see an incredible amount of energy being released from the jewel when he broke it apart. The destruction of the ruby caused the explosion, which made Alucard realize in shock that that was never a regular necklace.

The explosion rumbled the entire city of Paris.

Then… silence.

Alucard got up with difficulty again. Richter too, a few meters away from him. Olrox’s dragon form floated above them. Drolta’s lifeless body stayed in the middle.

The air seemed lighter. The city was eerily quiet.

Alucard looked up.

The shadow that covered the sun… it was slowly disappearing.

It… it was over.

Alucard gripped the wound on his left shoulder. It still bled. Now, his whole body was in pain, but he still stood – because something else could unravel in front of him.

Richter and Olrox stood face to face. A giant winged greature and a Belmont. Richter’s whip was still ignited.

Alucard watched them with anxiety. He knew what had happened to Richter’s mother… and he also knew that neither him or Richter were in condition to fight anymore.

But Richter closed his eyes for a moment.

“...I will kill you, Olrox. One day.” Finally, the blue flames of his whip went out. “But not today.”

He opened his eyes.

They gave each other a last meaningful gaze before Olrox retreated in a shadow of pitch black smoke.

Alucard almost sighed in relief.

The red color of the sky was slowly being replaced by its original blue. The vampire closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself feel relief. He could hear the sounds of the city again… citizens realizing the eclipse was over… people walking on the streets…

Five years of searching for Sekhmet’s mummy, of planning a strategy against them, of finding ways to defeat their troops…

It was finally over.

Alucard opened his eyes once more. Richter was limping his way towards Annette. He saw Juste and Maria, many meters away from where they were, waking up. It’s a miracle that all of them ended up alive…

But he caught something with the corner of his eye – and it immediately made him freeze.

Alucard whipped his head towards Drolta’s body.

She was still laying there. Beheaded. No signs of life at all.

But the shadows below her were moving.

They were getting thicker. The shadows of the entire square seemed to be getting pulled towards Drolta’s body; they twirled under her like a whirpool of pitch black. Alucard gripped his sword. Richter took his whip again. Annette stumbled back. The temperature seemed to drop at least ten degrees.

The air smelled of coal and sulfur.

A black figure rose from within the shadows. It grinned down at Drolta; something that sounded like mocking laughter hovered in the air.

They watched in shock as the shadows engulfed Drolta’s body – and then, both of them were gone.

You were… confused.

You could hear and see. You knew there was something violent happening somewhere in the city; colorful explosions, shockwaves and earthquakes, thunders and the sounds of destruction. You could hear Henri’s and Charle’s nervous chatter somewhere beside you. And yet – it’s like you weren’t really there. As if your mind and body were disconnected somehow. As if… you couldn’t react to anything.

You felt strangely at peace.

You knew that the sky started to get clear at some point. You heard the boys celebrating behind you. But… you couldn’t really move from that spot on the balcony of the north bell tower. You didn’t want to stand up.

A familiar touch on your back.

“Ruby?”

You turned your head to the side slowly. That was… that was Alucard. Yes. Alucard. You knew him. He had knelt on the ground beside you.

“...Hello.” You heard a voice say from a distance… your voice. You said that.

Alucard had a worried expression in his face. His hair was gloriously disheveled, the strong winds at the top of Notre Dame played with it. The fair skin of his face was… dirty. He was all dirty, in fact.

You knew they were talking about you. “I… I think she’s not okay, Mr. Alucard,” Henri said in a hesitant and worried voice. “She’s not reacting to anything. It’s like she’s on some sort of trance,” Charles completed. Alucard placed his hand over your forehead – why was he doing that again? – his frown deepened. Heavens, he was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Even with the disheveled hair and all the dirt. You coudn’t do anything but look at him; you didn’t bother when Alucard instructed the boys – “You should take care of the wound on your shoulder, son,” he told Henri. “There are nurses out there. Get medical aid. I’ll take care of her.”

You knew the two boys were walking out of the tower towards the stairs. A part of you wanted to stop them to properly say thank you, but your body didn’t want to move. So you just gazed at Alucard instead.

He held your arm softly. “Ruby, are you listening to me?” he asked in a worried voice.

His eyes widened in surprise when you touched his cheek.

“You’re hurt,” you heard your voice say from afar again.

If you were fully conscious, you’d never be brave enough to touch him like that. But it’s like you weren’t even there, so nothing felt real. You brushed some strands of hair away from his face and cupped his cheek delicately.

“You’re tired,” your voice said again. Your eyes dropped below – and for the first time, you noticed a gash in his jacket, right over his right shoulder… “You’re bleeding.”

Alucard rested his hand over yours, which made you look up again. He had a tiny smile on his lips, though his brows were still slightly furrowed. He gazed at you with… affection. It made your body feel warm on the inside. His hand was bigger than yours. Even through the leather glove, you could feel his warmth.

“I’ll heal anyway. Don’t worry about me.” You knew he was just light-heartedly repeating what you already told him over and over again. “Are you hurt?”

You frowned and looked down again.

“No. But I feel strange.”

“How so?”

“I don’t know. I’m… distant. And I’m tired.” You looked at him again. Alucard didn’t move to take your hand away from his face. His own still rested above yours, his thumb caressing your fingers slowly. “You’re hurt.”

“You already said that.” Alucard chuckled lightly before a bit of seriousness covered his expression once more. Finally, he wrapped his hand around yours and took it away from his face; he didn’t let go of it, however, resting both of them over your lap. He looked hesitant before speaking.

“Ruby… Drolta and Erzsebet are dead.”

You stared at him in silence for long seconds.

“Are… they?” Alucard nodded slowly. “Are you sure?”

Alucard hesitated for a second. You saw a glimpse of something you couldn’t understand cross his gaze.

But he nodded again in the end. “Yes. No mistakes this time.”

You lowered your head and… smiled.

Where did that smile come from? Why were you smiling in the first place? You had no idea.

Erzsebet and Drolta are dead.

The mere mention of their names made you feel… closer to your body, somehow. As if things were starting to get real again.

The sun was shining once more. You should’ve understood what that meant. The eclipse had vanished… and so had the Vampire Messiah.

Erzsebet and Drolta are dead. They are dead.

You didn’t know where the tears came from.

They came spontaneously, unannounced. You covered your mouth, trying to swallow a sob; your body was shaking. What were you crying for? Happiness? Relief? Sadness? Grief? Hatred? Pain? You had no idea. But you couldn’t stop, you didn’t know how. When was the last time you let yourself cry freely like that, without trying to be silent, without muffling any sob?

Drolta didn’t like the sound of you crying… so probably never.

But she was dead now.

Maybe if you were in your right mind, you wouldn’t have wrapped your arms around Alucard’s neck, embracing him in a tight hug. Maybe you wouldn’t have hid your face in his shoulder. No, you wouldn’t have the courage. But nothing felt much real at that moment, so you didn’t really care.

Alucard hugged you back immediately, offering no resistance, no hesitance. He kept you close, kept you tight. Tighter than your previous hug. Maybe if you were in your right mind, you would’ve shivered when he hid his face on your neck, too. Maybe your legs would’ve lost all of their strength when you felt his hot breath there, the touch of his soft cheek on your skin. All you could do was cry in a way you never did before.

At some point, you heard your voice stuttering a strangled thank you.

Alucard sighed deeply.

The morning sun kissed you both. The city down there was still in chaos – too many losses, too much damage, too many questions to be answered. You and him were still in he eye of the hurricane. But at that moment, nothing felt too real, so you didn’t care.

Nothing but him felt real. Him, and the fact that those who hurt you were gone from this world definitely. Him, his embrace and the way he warmed you up.

The voice of that unknown woman whispered in your ears once more – and, for some reason, it brought even more tears to your eyes.

...Love doesn’t burn.

Love warms up.

It was over.

[blingblong55]

A story- 141

Heii! I love your writing n was wondering if you could do more platonic!tf141 x reader? I'd love to see you do an angst one where reader almost dies or actually dies from the enemies hands, like maybe by poison or freezing to death bc readergets captured by them? :D ---- GN!Reader, angst, mentions of child!abuse ---- A/N: I apologise for writing this late. Fixed things with Tumblr and I can see all of my requests :)

The room is dark, there is no silence just a hum. It's eerie. Four guns are looking for reasons to shoot. There is a body, lying right by the door, and as the four men step deeper into the room, more bodies lie on the floor. None of them were the object of their mission. So many were just nameless bodies, some were part of the bravo team and then...the object of their mission. 

Was it worth calling it for what it is over the radio? ---

About fifteen months ago, Task Force 1-4-1 received a fresh out-of-training soldier who passed selection with flying colours—recommended to Kate Laswell by an old friend. "I think this kid will fit perfectly with your team. I sought thatthey were ready to be recommended." the man said to her.

From then on, it was set, that Y/N would be a part of the Task Force. Days blended in and Y/N couldn't wait for the day to come to work with the most infamous team that had come out of the SAS. When they met the team, it had been set in motion, this soldier belonged with them. They were made for this kind of life. It didn't take much after they joined to demonstrate why they were recommended to the team. 

Ghost saw some of himself in this young soldier. Price saw visions of his younger self in them, it was odd... having a person their age brings in more reasons to keep going. Gaz knew there was something about them, he took them under his wing. And Soap, the youngest candidate to pass the SAS selection, saw the bright future this new soldier has. 

It didn't take long before this brotherhood was at the doorstep waiting for Y/N to join. 

Their first-ever mission showed the skills that were once on paper. There was a chance, one that would dictate if this kid would wear the patch of the team.

The bullets blazed through the young soldier but they pushed past the storm, ran behind enemy lines and proved the patch on their arm would be permanent. It was bold, sure it was impressive but it was ballsy. There was no punishment just a light scolding. 

By the time they had been with the team for a whole year, another mission would be called upon, this time, no one knew the result. 

Would it be victorious? Shall we even say a horror?

Ghost executed his moves, knives ended up in men's throats because of it. Soap had a bullet to the arm, shit was fucked if this bloke had been hurt. Gaz had been waiting in the getaway car, you see this was meant to be a quick mission. Price yelled over the bullets that hit the wall near him. 

Y/N, yeah...they're the reason the team got away from this mess. But...it wasn't until late that the team realised Y/N hadn't gotten in the humvee with them.  ---

It had been one official week since then. Enough time for Laswell to mark this soldier as M.I.A. 

Price went through all of the mission, wondering where it all went wrong. It was the entrance or the time, hell not even the place was wrong. So what had gone wrong? Surely it couldn't have been the week or the month. Surveillance had proven that the intel given to them was wrong, resulting in the injury of Soap and now the evident torturing of Y/N. 

You had been stuck in a cell, occasionally dragged out of it to be tortured in different rooms according to the highest bidder. It was hell but at least your team wasn't the one in your place. You had grown fond of them and considered them all family by now. You were a kid in their eyes, something that always made them care for you like big brothers would for their younger siblings. 

At pubs, they always made sure you only drank one nice pint and that was it, no need to get a kid like you drunk. There were cigarettes shared, never a cigar because you must have three successful missions before Price gives you that privilege. 

Now, stuck in a dark cell with bruises, cuts and a possible broken bone, you can't help but feel desperation cover you whole. 

They'll find me. I know they will. 

Just another beating, nothing new. 

Just another stab, what more?

A little blood loss never hurt anyone.  ---

This was just like when you were a kid. Getting beat by your dad, mum and even when you were taken away, the next family would do the same. It was a never-ending story for you. But leaving, that was a hell of an idea to have. 

You were fifteen, with a weird feeling that if you didn't leave you'd end up dead, gone and buried. That or by your own hands. So, you left, you walked away or if put in legal terms, you became a ran away. So there you were, with nothing to your name but a backpack with all the important paperwork one needs and in an office to a man who would help you get a better home until you could join the military.  ---

Present day

The room is dark, there is no silence just a hum. 

Price leads the team deeper into the room, then...there was you. Lying unconscious on the floor. Stripped to only a white tank top and underwear. Soap was the first to rush in, covering your body while the rest of the team cleared the remaining rooms. By the time the team cleared the rooms, Soap had let them know you weren't moving but still breathing. 

A couple more beatings were okay, so as long as your team was away from harm's way. 

There was so much they needed to say to a kid like you, so much they wanted to share with you. Hell, smoke a cigar after the doctor clears you, per Laswell's request. But most of all, they wanted to teach you so much. Not just about war or whatever else a soldier might need to know but about life. 

A/N: this isn't an angst as much as I'd want it to be. 

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Fuck your boyfriend, he’s a bitch.

Barbie dolls: Mattheo riddle x fem! Reader

Word count: 3k-ish

Summary: your boyfriend Cormac is a piece of shit and Mattheo is tired of him totally most definitely not inspired by this sound

Warnings: Theo is called a spaghetti whore?, Cormac sucks, reader gets called a bitch, you’re friends with Pansy and she knows a lot of girls, Mattheo mentions sex, Cheating on Cormac’s side and then kinda cheating with reader bc theyre like flirtyish with Mattheo but its fineeeeeee, honestly Cormac’s kinda abusive, it gets kinda extra fanficy at the end but just consider it camp, reader punches Cormac :0, i think that’s it tbh

Your relationship with Cormac McLaggen had started as any relationship in Hogwarts did, a trip to Hogsmeade. You thought he was cute and he seemed sweet enough. So you continued to date him, much to your friends dismay. Draco complained about McLaggen's house. Blaise pointed out his habit of making obscene sexual comments to just about every girl who would breathe near him. Theo explained the time that he ran into McLaggen and Cormac called him a "spaghetti whore." Theo had a few choice words about Cormac, getting so heated he slipped entirely into Italian. You only picked up on a few words you remembered him teaching you in third year, none of which you would translate out loud. Pansy mentioned how he "sucked ass" at Quidditch. Lorenzo told you the filthiest rumors you've ever heard and truly wondered where he heard them. You were a little upset that all your friends disapproved of your new boyfriend. Mattheo had stayed silent the second Cormac's name slipped off your tongue. You turned to him, staring at him. Mattheo clicked his tongue. You didn't need him to say anything, rolling your eyes. You stood up, leaving the Slytherin common room all together.

After that your relationship was a touchy subject in your friend group. Often you'd all just ignore it entirely. When Cormac would interrupt, which was more frequent than you liked, everyone would fall silent and glare at him as he tugged you out of your seat. Though sometimes they would bring it up with you, every one of them always had some bad words to say about your boyfriend. Everyone, except Mattheo. He never spoke about it. Though that didn't mean Mattheo's point wasn't known. Often if Cormac's face was shown or even mentioned, all of a sudden Mattheo went silent. He was clenching his jaw, rolling his eyes, and clicking his tongue every two minutes. If he wasn't showing his hatred physically, Lorenzo or Theo would be reporting back to you. Theo always told you all the distasteful names Mattheo called Cormac. Lorenzo always told you the different ways Mattheo planned on torturing your boyfriend. No matter what he told the boys, Mattheo never said anything to you.

Until now.

You had planned on spending the weekend with your friends, whether that meant a sleepover, almost sacrificing Draco, or teaching Theo how to play charades. You thought it would be fine by Cormac because he never asked you out or made plans with you. You had a spectacular time with them. Just one hour with your friends and you were already feeling the stresses of your school week wash away. All of you laying in the courtyard grass as Draco ranted about his god awful experiences this week. Theo popping in his opinion every few minutes but the group was still filled with laughs and giggles. You were sat at the bottom of the tree you were all scattered around. It was peaceful and happy until you heard someone stopping towards you, the shuffling of a bulky Quidditch uniform. You peered around the tree to see Cormac storming towards you. Your friends noticed your sudden stiffness, looking to the source of the noise. You heard most of them groan.

"Not this bitch again." Blaise muttered.

"Stronzo" Theo whispered under his breath.

"I have got to get my father to hire an assassin." You rolled your eyes at Draco. You heard the muttering of Cormac approaching closer to you. He finally reached you, tapping you roughly on your shoulder. You looked up at him and smiled.

"Why hello, lovely boyfriend. Whatever can I do for you?" You wished your friends had chuckled or laughed but they all winced.

"Save it." Cormac grunted, pulling you up by your forearm. You quickly grabbed the strap to your bag, hauling it over your shoulder. Cormac noticed his glaring crowd of Slytherins. He leaned into your ear before angrily whispering to you.

"What happened to watching your Lovely boyfriend at Quidditch practice? Hm? 'Stead of watching me you're over here dicking around with your freak friends."

"Don't call them freaks."

"Shut up, do not interrupt me when I'm talking. You know my family has a saying? If a bitch doesn't know their place, beat them into it-" Cormac's grip on your arm tightened. You glanced down at his knuckles whitening.

"That's enough out of you Cormac." You looked up at Mattheo. This was truly the first time he said something disapproving of Cormac in front of you. Cormac rolled his eyes, tugging on your arm for you to follow him.

"Release their arm, you incomplete little dickhead." Pansy said, standing up next to Mattheo. You glanced around as all of your friends began to stand up. You suddenly felt like you were watching a children's movie and they were all going to break into song and dance. You wrenched your arm out of Cormac's grasp, stomping off to the Quidditch pitch. Cormac chasing after you and chiding you. You watched Cormac's practice, you cheered, and you ignored your friends for two days straight.

When you did return to them they didn't mention your boyfriend but they kept reminding you of how they supported you. Draco told you he'd hire a very good assassin for you if you gave him the word. No one mentioned Cormac's name but all of a sudden your friends were mentioning their deadliness. You told them you could handle yourself. You didn't need your friends to fight your battles. Sure Cormac said some odd things but it had been a particularly bad day for him. He treated you greatly but he just had a rough time and mishandled it that day. Pansy told you on your next birthday she was gifting you with Cormac's skull. Through all of their planned homicides, Mattheo stayed quiet.

At first you appreciated his silence because at least he wasn't telling you how he'd brutally murder your boyfriend. Now you were annoyed. You used to talk to him all the time, spending all your free time with him. Now Mattheo couldn't even look you in your eye when Cormac was mentioned. With more of Cormac’s appearances, the less Mattheo talked to you. Not only was he neglecting your friendship now he was neglecting to speak to you. You were starting to wish he'd tell you all the ways he'd decapatate Cormac just so he'd talk to you. So you hung out with your friends less. Their constant gorey talk and Mattheo's silence just made it difficult for you to sit through a conversation with them.

It'd been weeks since you last talked to them. You missed them but you had a feeling if you returned they'd make a stink about it. You saw them in the halls while Comarc walked you to wherever he wanted. Mattheo always grimaced at Cormac's hand on the back of your neck, dodging your eyes. Cormac seemed to trip suddenly when Pansy reached into her pocket. So you avoided them like the plague.

Weeks later, You placed your books back where you found them, humming to yourself. You had spent the whole day in the library. You sat in the window nook. Your stacks of read books growing taller around you. You didn't fully finish most of them but you skimmed them and that was enough for you. It felt nice to be alone and peaceful. No Cormac. No Mattheo. No drama. No Quidditch practice. No "oh come watch me arm wrestle Fred Weasley I'm going to beat him." And then lose nonsense. Just you, a peaceful room, and a good couple hundred of books.

"Hey baby, come here often?" And in comes Mattheo. You glanced behind yourself. He was leaning against a bookshelf, looking through the titles of your books.

"Oooh sorry handsome, I have a boyfriend. Awe." He smiled at you, happy to have you joking back with him. Mattheo rolled his eyes at you, remembering that you mentioned Cormac.

"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch. You can do better." You sighed picking up more off your floating stack of books. You did not respond. Mattheo followed after you, taking a few books off the top himself.

"You know how at store if you buy something you can return it and swap it out for a new one? You can do that with your funk ass boyfriend too."

"Mm hm yeah, whatever you say Matty." You flicked your wand. Your books flying off the stack back towards their home. Mattheo held his stack out towards you. You snatched the books out of his hands, sending them back to their original spot.

"Come on, baby. We miss you. Not your skank ass boyfriend but that's besides the point. Come on are you really going to cut your friends out because your boyfriend is all "be my slave, suck my dick, make me dinner my tummy's rumbling"?" Mattheo stuck his arms out and wobbled like a zombie as he mocked Cormac. You deadpanned at him.

"Yes. That is exactly how my partner treats me." You said laced with severe sarcasm. Mattheo pointed at you.

"See. I'm glad you've realized that. But seriously, there's no way he treats you well. His middle name is Cornelius." You glared at Mattheo as you finished putting back your last book. You stifled your laugh and schooled your features. Mattheo caught it though, his grin growing.

"I mean does he even listen to the Smiths thinking of you?"

"Which one? Girlfriend in a Coma?" Mattheo’s face fell as he glared at you. Not the same one he sent to Cormac, this one was softer around the edges.

"Ha. Ha. Baby, come on. Does he even fantasize about your future together? Does he even get sick to his stomach thinking of how much he cares for you? Does he ever just look at you? To watch how pretty you are? Or does he just look at you when you can give him something?" You thought for a moment. You started to realize how little Cormac actually did for you. You covered up your concerns with a bright smile.

"Don't you have friends? Or do you only bother poor defenseless people in the library?" Mattheo rolled his eyes. He leaned against the table behind him.

"Mm hm. Listen baby, you can call me if you need anything. To beat up your-"

"Just say boyfriend"

"Punk ass boyfriend, if you feel lonely, if you need to get rid of a body, if McLaggen can't figure out how to make you cum and you need a very enthusiastic dildo, if you want arsenic to kill McLaggen, whatever I'm here for you." Mattheo gently grabbed your wrist and tugged you closer to him. He rubbed your back as he stared up at you with puppy eyes.

“If he hears you talking like that I think he’ll have your head.” You whispered to him. Mattheo shrugged. You intertwined your fingers behind Mattheo’s head. His fingers gently tracing shapes on your back. Cormac was never gentle. He always tapped you a little too hard, pulled you roughly, yanked on your clothes until you heard stitches pop. Mattheo would take his time with you while Cormac would always try to get something out of you the fastest. He always felt like he was racing against his own personal best to see how fast he could ruin your day. Mattheo tilted his head gaining your attention again.

“Could not care less about that little-“ you pressed your finger to his lips. Mattheo closed his mouth.

“I have to go.”

“To him?” You rolled your eyes at Mattheo.

“Yes I have to go, I have a date with my boyfriend.” Mattheo nodded. Just as you were about to pass him entirely, he reached out and caught your wrist.

“If he says anything to you, I mean anything. Friendly reminder; I keep my wand with me and I’m fully ready to Avada McLaggen.” It felt strange with him saying such terrible things while staring at you with such warm eyes.

“I love it when you talk dirty.” You whispered. Mattheo groaned and released your hand. He stood up from his seat on the table and disappeared behind the bookshelves. You smiled as you left to Library off to your date.

You truly tried to ignore Mattheo’s words. It’s like when you walk into someone’s home and all you smell is dog but they can’t smell anything. You become so accustomed to the smell you don’t even recognize it. Well Cormac’s shameful behavior was the dog smell and Mattheo was pointing it out. All of a sudden you started noticing things. You saw how anytime you decided to do something on your own he’d get upset. Asking if you were going to go see your “freaky Slytherin friends”. He never looked at you unless he was thinking about undressing you. You always felt cold under his eyes like you were vulnerable. Mattheo was right, McLaggen sucked. So you decided that was it. Only problem was figuring out how to end it.

You sent Pansy a long winded letter, apologizing to her and the boys, begging, crying, and plotting your breakup. You watched her as she stared at the letter on her plate from Cormac’s side. Cormac was squeezing your shoulder, always a little too hard. As Pansy started reading while pushing the nosey boys away, a smile grew. When she finished the letter she glanced over at you. Pansy grinned at you as hid your smile with McLaggen’s cloak. Pansy denied showing the boys her private letter, stuffing it into her pocket. She met you where you told her to in your letter and you both spent the night plotting. Pansy knew a girl, who knew a girl, who knew a girl, who knew a girl, who knew a girl, and that girl knew McLaggen. According to Pansy’s informants McLaggen has a crush on some Ravenclaw. Luckily Pansy also knew this girl. Pansy seemed to know a lot of girls. Pansy talked to this Ravenclaw and this Ravenclaw happened to be what Pansy would call a “girls girl.”

Here’s the plan: Ravenclaw Girl will wear her best dress. You will convince Cormac to go to this party. You’ll ask him to go get you a drink. At the drink station, Ravenclaw Girl will flirt with Cormac. He’s utter garbage so of course he’ll reciprocate. Ravenclaw Girl will ask him to follow her up to her room. You’ll wait a couple minutes and all of a sudden oh no where ever has your boyfriend gone best go look for him and now you’ve walked in on your unfaithful lover. Stage a scene in front of everyone, he probably calls you a couple bad names, you breakup and you’re back in business. You’ll be back with your freaky slytherin friends, flirting with Mattheo as friends of course, and calling Cormac every atrocious name in the book.

So the night of the party you dress in the best outfit you knew Cormac wouldn’t fuss about. It was going to be a great terrible night. You hadn’t felt this much excitement since before your god awful relationship started. Cormac complained about the stairs as you both made your way to the party. The music was too loud, the lights were too bright, the people stank too much, but nothing could bring you down. You were beaming even though you spent the first hour sitting on a blue velvet couch tucked under Cormac’s arm. Finally, you pointed out to Cormac you were a little thirsty. He groaned and stood up, moving to the drinks. You watched him from across the room. A beautiful girl with braids that turned blue at the ends approached him.

You understood Cormac’s attraction, she was stunning. Her hair reached just past the small of her back. She had dramatic, sweeping, bright blue winged eyeliner and a blue dress that swayed with her movements. It stopped at her mid thigh, trimmed with black lace. You would cheat on Cormac with her any day. You smothered your grin as you saw her gently tug him up the stairs of the girls dormitroys.

You waited a few minutes. You caught Pansy’s eyes across the room. She gave you a sinful grin and mimicked it. You looked around you. “Searching” for your faithful boyfriend.

“Oh boyfriend, where have you gone? Boyfriend where ever did you go? Oh no I can’t seem to find my lovely boyfriend, Cormac. Best go check the dorms.” You whispered to yourself. You stood and slowly made your way upstairs. You wanted to give Cormac plenty of time to get comfortable with Ravenclaw Girl. You flung open the door Ravenclaw Girl had marked with her necklace around the handle. Cormac had his tongue down her throat his hands squeezing her thighs. You gasped loudly.

“Oh. My. God.” The girl pulled back and gasped just as you did. She covered her mouth with her hands. Cormac spun around and his face fell when he looked at you. He tried to explain this away but all his excuses sounded like an extravagant way to say I tripped and fell I didn’t mean to. You let him have it. You screamed at him. You pulled out the waterworks. You stormed away from him. He followed you still trying to explain this whole situation away. The girl followed after him wanting to see this up close and personal. You spun around when you reached the middle of the stairs, visible to everyone. You called him every name in the book.

“You lying, cheating, filthy, disgusting, revolting, bastard.” You raised an octave with each insult. You saw the people around you turn to look out of the corner of your eye. Cormac tried to get a word in but you cut him off . You spilled everything how he had you working, spending all your time taking care of him and he couldn’t even have the decency to be faithful. Pansy joined you at your side, rubbing your back and glaring at Cormac. You kept yelling and scolding halfway through you noticed most of the crowd had gathered around. You kept shouting and when you finally let everything out you stared at Cormac as you caught your breath. He opened his mouth the second you closed yours. Cormac called you every degrading name he could think of. It didn’t bother you, he said them all before. Then he said it, he crossed the line.

“You hate yourself so much instead of being with a high value male like myself you’d rather fuck the disgusting freak that is Voldemort’s child” You felt your blood boil. You were going to kill Cormac McLaggen. Just not today, maybe tomorrow. You swung and hit him in the nose. Cormac’s head shot back as he quickly gripped his nose. The crowd oooed. Pansy gasped and let out an excited squeal. You heard your friends cheering.

“That’s my fucking girl.” You rolled your eyes at Mattheo’s yells and turned towards Pansy.

“Ready to go?” She nodded. As you turned to walk away Cormac spoke up from his place leaning on the stairs banister.

“I’ll gut you like a fish, and keep your-“ Mattheo’s drink flew at McLaggen’s face, drenching him.

“God just shut your mouth already.” Mattheo added, joining you at your side. The rest of the boys followed after you each stopping by McLaggen to toss in an insult. Blaise had to drag Theo away. Apparently that spaghetti whore comment still made his blood boil. Even the Ravenclaw Girl tossed in one, following after your group.

“You’re really hot when you punched your boyfriend in the face.” Mattheo whispered next to your ear as you all pushed through the crowd.

“Ex-boyfriend. And trust me I know.” You patted Mathheo’s cheek.

[matchadobo]

hi idk if this is an odd request but could you write a shanks x reader where she uses her safeword bc she’s starting to feel bad and he how he comforts her after <3 tysm 🫶

SHANKS; safeword

wc: 834

warning/s: nsfw 🔞, p0rnp0rnp0rn, fluff in the end, afab reader, wrote this in one sitting whabshabah

you tried clawing at his chest as a sign to tell him to stop, but it seemed as if he took it as a compliment. your cunt felt so numb. you already came and you lost track how many times. shanks loves overstimulating you, that hazy look of lust in your eyes gets him going even more. but you love it too of course, it’s just that, it’s different now. he looks too feral, too hungry, too scary.

“what’s got you so quiet, princess? don’t give up on me now, yeah? you’re taking all of me so well.” he tucked a hair that was starting to stick on your forehead. “already tired, eh?” a smirk made its way to his lips, he loved what he saw. flushed face, parted, drooling lips, and the half-lidded look of sex in your eyes.

the view of him slowly losing himself by the warmth of your folds. it feels so sticky and wet and his cock was throbbing at the clench of your sopping crevice. he loved how red and used your core looked. he’d throw his head back and slick back his sweaty hair, brutally pounding into you. each thrust hitting your cervix that it started choking you.

“t-too much…” you meekly let out, but it was unintelligible to him. he was too lost in the ecstasy of you. your lower half was aching by the minute, like it was going to bleed because of his pace and size.

“s-shanks too much…!” you tried a little louder this time. you couldn’t bellow it out clearly though, your stomach was so heavy. yet he still couldn’t hear it. soon enough, tears formed in your eyes, precariously cascading down your cheeks.

“roses.”

it only took the wetness of your cheeks and the weak sobs of the safeword for the emperor to stop. that flower that filled the fields on where he met you made him remember how delicate you are and how you should be treated. he stiffened up immediately, taking his hand off your throat. his hand immediately clutched your cheek, thumbs wiping off the tears. “oh fuck- baby, sweetheart i’m so sorry.” he pulled you up into his embracd, the look in his eyes much kinder this time. your voice sobering him up instantly. “d-did i squeeze your throat too much? did i bite too hard? t-tell me.”

“are you- where does it hurt?” he pulled away, searching for any noticeable sign of hurt on your body and eyes. he was still in you though, he figured it’d hurt more if he pulled out right away.

“just my cunt that you abused.” you sarcastically remarked, laughing meekly through teary eyes.

“jesus, i’m so sorry. i was- i'm fucking stupid. you just felt so good, and i’m so tired, and i needed you. i’m just- sorry i went too far, darling.” he panicked. suddenly, the big, scary emperor was now pouting before you. “y-yeah, let’s stop here.” he lied you down, slowly pulling out while carefully watching if your face contorted in any pain.

aaand the goofy shanks you fell in love to was now back, not that cunt hungry motherfucker earlier (but that works too, sometimes 😝). he soon ran a cold bath for you, cleaning you up. he distracted you with his funny stories, reveling on how you smile and how your cries fade away.

he’d usually take you out by the deck, let you clung on his arm to help you walk. you two’d settle by the edge of the ship, he’ll grab a pillow for you to sit on while your feet hang loosely above the flowing current, and he’d have a protective arm around your waist. the comforting blues and the salty air would relax the both of you, he’d place his chin on your shoulders and revel in your fragrant body wash and natural scent.

“i’m really sorry, love.” he mumbled, bashfully looking down. “have i really not hurt you?” the look of pure concern in his ruby eyes made you remember why you fell in love with him again.

“just a little but, that’s why we have a safe word, right? i understand, love. don’t worry about it.” you tuck a hair hanging by the side of his face on his ear.

“i-i’ll take you to hongo later.”

you couldn’t help but play it off with a nod as your fingers softly brush by his scarred cheek. during the visit with hongo, shanks had his head hung low with his hand behind him sheepishly when hongo confirmed that you were just overfucked and you were totally fine.

so i got sick again fml buuuut to the person who requested this, i aM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG LMFAO 🥺 like i said, i don't want to release shit half-baked and tonight was the only night i felt the mood with this man 😏 sooo i hope this makes you happy 😩 even tho it's so short!!

[odetojupiter]

this is a surprise to no one but i’m thinking of the twins again. cause i don’t know whether we’re told when tilda developed her drug addiction but considering her erratic behaviour surrounding the twins birth im assuming she was already using prior to the twins arrival. and if she was using before, during, and after giving birth, that introduces so many heartbreaking possibilities for the twins.

this one ran away from me (they say, as tho they don’t always)

i see people saying they just couldn’t take andrew or aaron seriously because they’re five foot even cause that’s a funny height apparently and i just think: did u know a long term impact of prenatal drug use is impaired growth? add that to potential malnutrition and yeah suddenly it’s not that funny anymore. besides andrew being short probably made him seem like an easy target to his abusers which is what made it necessary for him to learn to defend himself in the first place sooo

other impacts of prenatal drug use: altered brain development, cognitive and behavioural issues, damaged communication/language development, newborns can be born addicted and subsequently go through withdrawals (called neonatal abstinence syndrome, which has a long list of symptoms and can cause newborns to be hospitalised or worse). in any context, this is a horribly traumatic thing for a baby to go through but then consider this:

andrew’s brain is already struggling to develop properly thanks to his mother’s drug abuse. and then you add on frequent repetitive abuse including but not limited to several occurrences of child sa. already a 7 year old brain is not wired to be able to cope with that. tie that in with his significant abandonment issues stemming from first his mother and then every subsequent family he stays with giving him up. his own narrative tries so hard to doom him, and he responds to that the only way he can: through anger. violence. how else was he supposed to respond? yes this is more andrew defence bc it seems there’s been a sudden influx of andrew hate and it boils my piss

that brings me to a new point: andrew as a newborn. and his foster family does not want to give him the extra attention he needs as a baby born through prenatal drug use. so they give him up. again and again. so

but to talk about aaron for a sec - not only could he have been born addicted, but being breastfed by a drug user (it’s up in arms whether tilda would breast feed) also has its symptoms - can make the baby sick, can ruin its sleep, cause later behavioural issues and even transfer the drug to the baby. aaron, living with tilda, was also doomed to follow the narrative.

[ledetlore]

listen, i know everyone hates nathaniel coal and a small part of me does too, but a bigger part of me ACHES wondering about how much he's feeling right now. i mean!! here is your son. your first baby. you loved him so much. you didn't always get it right, and you did your best, even if you didn't have help. maybe, at some point, you started noticing what he lacked, and maybe you pushed him to be better, but that's only because you saw so much potential in him! for the longest time, it was you and him against the world... until suddenly, it wasn't. and that broke you.

but you got up! bc if there's one thing you know how to do, it's to keep going! it's to keep working! to keep living! you have more kids, your family grows, you have more boys and a girl. you can never replace your first baby, but life has gotten better.

and then suddenly. he's back! the son you thought you lost is back!! and he's different and he's hurt and he's been used and abused and oh, he asks you, where were you? why didn't you come after me? why did i have to be the one to go to you? why did you give up? you didnt give up on my your life here, you got up, got better, but not once did you come after me? not once? you gave up on me that easily, papa?

anyway. here's my partner. this man you think of as a monster. he's my family now. he was there for me when you weren't. he knows things about me i'll never tell you.

gideon never says all those things, but that's what nathaniel hears.

what's an old man to do, then, huh? what's an old man to do with all these feelings? does anyone know? certainly not nathaniel coal.

anyway. i can't wait for the breakdown that's about to happen. your fic has me by the throat.

i miss the boys, though. gricko would not STAND for this behavior from the coals, im sure of it.

also are we ever going to figure anything out about gideon's mom?

okay this ask got me so bad I ran a bubble bath, cracked open a nice cold cider and I'm now gonna answer best as I can. Just imagine me typing this on a layer of white bubbles.

Technically, this is answered over the next chapters, but I can give you a sneak peak.

Okay, let's get into it. Radiohead is playing, I am emotional, and fuck it, I wanna answer.

Without giving too much away;

Pa loves Gideon. He loves his kids. When you love something with your whole heart and it goes, it takes your heart with it. None of Pa's kids will ever know what Pa was with Gideon, and they sort of know it, with the way he gets sometimes - looking at the fields like there's still someone running through them when they're all inside. Hopeful.

Pa woke up to Gideon left on his doorstep, months after what he thought was a casual lay with a woman he thought he had dreamed. Parents dead, ranch just about running, about twenty three with no clue in the world of what to do with himself or a baby.

Giving up his youth for the baby, cause that's what you do when you're a good man with a big heart. He gave every part of that big heart to Gideon, keeping just enough back to keep his body running.

Then it's burning.

He's screaming, your baby is screaming, and you're running out to touch him, save him, stroke his hair and whisper that you'd never let anything happen - when a thud hits you, something dark and sharp across your face like the world's cruelest slap.

You wake up to a friend shaking you, begging you to be alive. You get up and you look for him, for your baby, but all there is are steadily filling train tracks, the scent of sulfur, and a long dark horizon.

You lose yourself. You give up. You drink, but that's not enough. Suddenly, all the coin you've been saving? Women. More drinks. Waking up in ditches.

You meet a girl two years younger than you. You saw her when you were younger, in the market with her mother while you had just lost yours.

You fuck her. She's lovely, she's sweet, it's her first time - it's your fiftieth. A month later she runs to your house, paint peeling, still smoke-stained. She's pregnant.

You could get a healer, sweep it all away, but fuck, she's scared. You feel responsible. Suddenly, you're swearing to do right by her and the kid, barely an hour after drinking another bottle of whiskey down. Maybe it helps. Maybe it doesn't.

So you buck up. Quit cold, you ain't a fucking wimp. She helps you, the first few months, and then you're helping her, she's tired, she's hurting, she's got a baby in her and God don't you remember how hard it was to have one just show up?

She gives birth. It's painful, she's screaming, your favourite hat tears in your hands from how tight you're holding it.

You don't give the baby your name, that was Gideon's. You call him John Markus Cowle - it's a fine name enough. The woman, she's sweaty, exhausted, eyes bagged and hands shaking.

She's never looked more beautiful.

You marry the next year, and the ceremony is empty on your side of the aisle, but she's stunning in her white dress. You fall harder than you thought possible.

Life goes on. Three more children, the third a surprise neither expected but both want so so terribly. She's a girl, and suddenly there's two angels in your life. You love and care for your sons, but baby girl is special- the first deep love you've felt since Gideon.

Life is beautiful, for a while. She grows up, like her mother but so stubborn, like you.

Then he comes back.

The day isn't even special. it's not an anniversary or a holiday. It's the start of another week in growing season.

You feel everything, so you make yourself feel nothing. Close yourself. Struggle to speak. He looks nothing like your baby, but all like you, the curve of his brows like his mother (distant as she is in your mind) and scarred like a circus lion. His tail, which used to smack you in bed, is gone. His horns are smaller than you thought they'd be.

He's shackled.

Then out from behind him comes something you've only ever heard about. A lizardfolk. An alligator. Both predators.

You couldn't protect your son, and now there's four more of your babies that you can't see, can't defend. Your girl, your angel, she's too curious - she's so similar to Gideon, who's here now, and she's going to be hurt.

You can't lose another.

Gideon is so big, you can't fit his face in your palm anymore, he looks like you but just a little off, he's beautiful and everything you wanted to see him grow into.

This lizardfolk is dressed far too nice. That's... worse almost. Because the shackles on his wrists need to come from somewhere.

Dear Anon, you will see more soon. Pa also needs to work through this, and he's spent years treating the memory of Gideon like a drop of diamond, precious and unbreakable.

He's a complicated man. I am crying now, having written this out. God, I am not made for this kind of angst, and here I am, hurting myself.

There's going to be a moment it all crashes down and the rubble may not be able to be used to rebuild. Still, a foundation doesn't disappear.

[moaloves]

Had to explain the plot of all for the game to someone who had no prior knowledge and holy shit. (Spoilers) Here’s some of my favorite footnotes from our texts:

To start with it is about a bastardized version of lacrosse called exy

And the yakuza

What

Does the yakuza have to do with lacrosse

The only joy he has is playing exy after his mom died and he burned her body in the first few pages of the book

Ah yes

Hillbilly cremation

10/10 for the environment

I’m honestly scared to actually read it

It made my mental health worse I think

Their mom decided to give up one and keep the other so one grew up in the foster system and one grew up with their abusive mother and they didn’t know abt each other until they were like 13ish? At which point one already had a SEVERE self harm addiction and the other had a severe drug addiction

Bro what 😭😭😭

And was HEAVILY abusive to them and their moms sibling was extremely religious (which sucked for their gay cousin, Nicky-he’s also on the exy team) and forced her to raise Andrew again after abandoning him as a baby and Andrew caught her abusing Aaron so he murdered her at 15ish

MURDER

A VALID MURDER

BUT MURDER

YEAH

AARON WAS NOT STOKED

I CAN IMAGINE

ALSO ANDREW LOCKED AARON IN A BATHRROM COMPLETELY ALONE FOR LIKE A WEEK AND FORCED HIM TO DETOX COLD TURKEY

WTF😭😭😭

Oh also Neil is like 5’4? There’s a lot of short kings in these books

Napoleon syndrome goes hard ig

Also I forgot to mention Kevin and Neil were childhood friends because Neil is technically supposed to be a raven (the ones who brand children) but his mom ran away from him and Neil knows who Kevin is but if I remember right Kevin doesn’t know who Neil is

Someone get these kids therapy

Please

They’d have to admit to all the murder

Get a mob boss therapist idk

TO BE PART OF THE TEAM BC THEY HAVE TO COME FROM FUCKED UP CIRCUMSTANCES THEY SEE BETSY DOBSON

Maybe it’s time to change religions

Atp I don’t see any other solution 😭

I need you to know everything I detailed happened in the first book and THERES FIVE

Fuck religions

Just death

They also go clubbing at a club called Eden’s like all the time

Ah yes, I’m mentally unstable, let me go to a club, shake some ass, grab a dick, and do a joint in the bathroom. Fun Friday night yall.

Also the older members call the younger members “the monsters” bc they’re good at exy but also because they don’t really view them as people

Again you’ve rendered me speechless and not in the fun way

Atp just burn down the school

THE YAKUZA TRIED 😭😭😭

TRY HARDER

ARSON ISNT ROCKET SCIENCE

Russian sleep experiment this author

Please

That summary makes it sound INTERESTING the points you described to me makes me think I should join a JIGSAW GAME I’d walk out of it with less trauma

Please comment some of your favorite fucked up things that happened in aftg 😭

[15-lizards]

About your daughters of the mountain au any ideas for how they fare during asoiaf from the rebellion to their father's technical demise at oberyns hand or would he leave them behind at the cleganes' keep? Their interactions with most of the characters like would they become ladies in waiting only to unsettle the fuck out of sansa & arya? What if they sadly ran into of Joffrey?

Welcome into me and @sshireens mind palace 😋🩵 tw abuse of all kinds

Longggg post below whoops!

So I originally created them to be foils to Sansa and Arya, so they’re around their ages and thus weren’t alive during the rebellion. They spent most of their miserable lives either being kept away in cleganes keep or going to kings landing when it was time for a tourney or some other court business when Gregor remember they existed and would take them along. Not bc he wanted to actually bring them to court but more bc he wanted them to remember that they were his property he could bring anywhere without warning.

Their lives suck ass either way but marginally less so in kings landing. Mostly because there were more people around and so he couldn’t exactly knock their teeth out and bruise their faces without some mildly reprimanding looks from Tywin. Also the keep is too big to navigate at night to try and find their rooms so he doesn’t even bother. And he gets pissed if people stare if he verbally abuses them in public. So he has some small bit of restraint. Which is like paradise for Dagmar and Iva

Also the girls are pretty stunted socially, so most of their interactions both at home and away are at the least embarrassing and stiff and at their worst an egregious social taboo. At home, there’s not that many other people, just their masochist rapist murder dad’s friends and a few servants and working families. So social interaction consists of very hushed and fearful lessons from whatever poor septa or septon Tywin forced to go to Cleganes keep and leering from the mountains men. The only kids their age were a couple servant’s children and such but Dagmar accidentally beat the kennel boy so hard when he grabbed Iva’s skirt that she killed him or gave him serious brain damage you can pick. God forbid a girl be a highly reactive and abused guard dog. 🙄

People in kings landing think they’re a couple of freaks for the most part. Cersei thinks they’re amusing to observe like little specimen in a Petri dish but also doesn’t let them get within five feet of her in case Dagmar tries to lunge or something. Joffrey thinks everything they do is hilarious and begs his mom to let him have them as his own personal freak show. Tyrion feels bad for their situation but also does nothing to actually help. He’s so kind 🫶. Jamie thinks they’re stinky and gross and doesn’t actually think ab them beyond making bitchy comments with Cersei when they see them. Robert would rather not see them but did try to be nice to Iva once. She ran away. Stannis thinks they need to be euthanized for their own good. Varys and Littlefinger both tried to use them for their gay little schemes once but soon realized that a neither a selective mute who curls into a ball at the nearest sign of danger and doesn’t retain information that well as a trauma response or her antisocial emotionally disregulated abuse victim sister prone to violent and disproportional outbursts would be all that good as spies

Sandor has the most complicated feelings about them. Dagmar is literally him and Iva was his Sansa before Sansa. He wished someone would put them out of their misery and simply believed they were too weak to survive. He simultaneously didn’t have any tolerance for the way they acted but also knew exactly what sort of abuses they were facing that made them act like that. Thinking about it too long makes him want to kill his brother but he knows he can’t kill his brother so instead he just sometimes thinks about killing them so they don’t need to suffer anymore. It’s the kindest thing he can think to do. As they get older Sandor starts feeling a modicum of guilt for not protecting them more and does what he can to keep them out of harms way. Giving Dagmar her first real knife, which they both know wouldn’t do anything against Gregor, but it was the thought that counted and besides, Dagmar could always stab herself with it. Taking the girls in the middle of the night to some filthy street in flea bottom and tucked them in an ally (that he stood guard in front of) that they spent all night shivering in because he knew Gregor was on the prowl in the red keep. Making Iva sit on his lap during feasts so that the mountains men would think that she was “taken” and she wouldn’t have to be victim to their prying hands. Letting Dagmar get shitfaced drunk for the first time when she was old enough (12) because she thinks Gregor broke a rib and really wants to forget about it. World’s best uncle everyone.

Anywho by the time of the original story, I imagine that they meet Arya and Sansa in kings landing. Of course Sansa is grossed out by both of them but also pities them, while Arya idolizes Dagmar. Iva definitely follows Arya around (to her mild annoyance) bc Arya collect freaks and misfits and outcasts like Pokémon. Sansa tries to reform them to no avail and Arya can’t get on Dagmars good side either. However once shit hits the fan they all remember each other with almost fondness.

Dagmar reallllly reminds Sansa of the hound and Sansa realllly reminds Dagmar of Iva (if she was less horrifically abused) so there’s lots of parallelisms there. They have a weird bonding moment so when Sansa slips away after Joffrey dies Dagmar kind of sort of misses her in her own weird way.

When the WOT5K really gets underway, they are moved back and forth between clegane keep and kings landing, officially being shut up in kings landing when Robb starts taking the westerlands. Bc even though they are horribly broken little girls who can’t function properly, they are still Gregor’s heirs and property, so he dumps them there to protect his assets. It’s actually almost nice for them bc Gregor is constantly off campaigning and you never know he could die this time around. They can just be majorly codependent in quiet corners of the castle in peace.

However he does in fact come back each time. And then Oberyn steps up to challenge him and Dagmar, for the first time in her life, seriously believes she might be rid of him. And it is all so close!!!! Even after the fights over and Oberyns skull is akin to a crushed watermelon her dad has till been copiously poisoned so not all hope is lost. Except he keeps hanging on. And he just won’t fucking die and doesn’t look like he’ll ever. He’ll come back from the dead just to loom over her and Iva for the rest of their lives. And Dagmar literally drags Iva to the top of the red keep and stands there for hours debating on jumping off or not.

Yayyyyy

[mangalho]

I made this dude to relax bc i read the info on drows on the dnd wiki (i dont know shit abt dnd and im not joking) and thought ‘whoever made these guys is a pervert’ i respect that, but i closed my eyes at the stupider bits of the lore…

i just dont think their society is like. Livable HAHAAH also its stupid asf to have ‘inherently evil species’… apparently they’re steering away from that shit which is great.

He was a man from a non-noble house chosen by a matron of a high house and they were surprisingly happy together for drow standards. Malaggar comes from like a mining/trading settlement, but his ventures took him to Menzoberranzan and thats how he met her. She was smitten by his general honesto demeanor and cute "provincial" accent (okay big City bitch..!)

please note that drows are kind of insane in general but apparently its worse in highly populated noble ridden cities with the strictest social rules so like. To you this was just some guy but to that woman he was so different so quirky ajahjahah

They had a good run, but eventually another matron from another high house came and said ‘i want him’ and since drow women compete like wild animals she killed his OG wife.. demolished her really

He became her bitch AND was miserable. She was happy bc he was like a pretty young thing but soon started getting violent with the guy because he was grieving his first wife whom he actually liked. He was in a rough spot bc he was getting his ass beat on the daily fr.. However his new wife was also a high drow so. He was basically elevating his family just bc he was there taking the domestic abuse (read: normal spider-worshipping drow behaviour)

The new matron was very unkind in every possible way you can imagine, but she didn’t do anything to him that would scar his body, greatest asset and all that. One day he snapped and killed his matron by way of knife and ran away to the surface world. Then he started his life of crime. Went from a little abused noble boy to some cartel mercenary dude who kills ppl and has tattoos. I think they look both really dumb but also sick as fuck, and he probably got them as a way to rebel against his upbringing in a way. But he’s edgy so i bet he thinks he looks sick like no nations no borders no self awareness being embarrassing unites all peoples

he is traumatized by women and is deeply afraid of them! I want his story to develop around becoming more normal and overcoming his grief.. hes from a long lived species so its taking him a while. Also its harder to make real friends if all your coworkers are insane criminals

[enden-k]

can we get a lil bit more info about OG anya? she appears to be young :( what happenned to her?

yee sure sure

OG anya was an only child of rich and successful ppl; however they didnt rlly take care of her/give her parental love bc they prioritized success and business and she was raised by the maids etc instead. her parents had high expectations and forbade her any form of self expression since they considered the things and dresses she liked as nonsense and childish. anya is timid and not very good at anything (which is okay but ofc its not in her parents eyes); she had to do so many things that she was extremely overwhelmed and never had the chance to become rlly good at any of them which was considered as her being lazy and ungrateful

because she had a sheltered childhood (private tutoring until she got older) she never had much/any contact to ppl so she was very awkward and scared. she never had any friends and when she entered a private all girls school, she was immediately targeted for bullying and harassment since she never fought back. having to do this and that to become friends w her bullies, ofc she didnt realize they merely used her for their amusement. she was the kind of person who found excuses and explanations for why ppl mistreated her and had lots of hope and positive thoughts despite everything. a kindhearted person you could easily scam and who would endure other ppls cruel games

she rlly began to break down when she met a v loving person online who was basically the first who ever showed affection and interest in her (since she never received affection, she was like a puppy hungry for any kind of love) and in the end, it was the same group of girls that catfished her for amusement. from there anya started to realize how cruel they are, how much she was hated by everyone bc she was not good at anything, bc she was "too stupid, too lazy, too childish, too ugly", not good enough for anyone. she was not angry or upset w the world and how she was treated but she was apologizing for being born and being an eyesore and disappointment for everyone around her. the echo that had observed her was heartbroken and had reached out to help her more than to complete themself (altho it was attracted to her kind and pure heart), promising her to give her the life she wanted and deserve and after they merged, they ran away and never came back

they were later found by jin who was extremely kind (OG jin had a younger sibling he was shielding from abuse and protective of, so his kindness and protectiveness towards anya is the OG trait and shining through the most) and anya immediately latched onto that which is why whenever shes scared or uncomfortable you see her inching towards jin. anya is the first human the echo took in so they were taught by jin and bo how everything works. shes kinda similar to yoma in that regard altho the OG anya is dormant inside as it normally is while the OG yoma is no longer present since hes dead

[knight-says-nanana]

An analysis on Ed’s comic childhood, how that impacted his OCD*, and how that translated to the Gotham TV show

Alternatively: GTV Ed’s Biography

*(and also how it very clearly gave him cptsd but they don’t explicitly Say that bc DC is full of cowards)

Normally I’d say comics don’t impact tv continuity, especially for a show like Gotham where so many things are changed, but the thing is? Cory Michael Smith specifically went out of his way to read the riddler comics when he accepted the role of Ed Nygma. He acted accordingly and did an amazing job trying to salvage the show’s poor writing. There are many tiny moments where he does things that reference Ed’s typical backstory despite the show, in all its 5 seasons, never bringing it up

Childhood wise there are typically two widely accepted routes

1 - his mom was around but neglectful and off her head with drugs n alcohol

2 - his mom left when he was a toddler due to not being able to handle his father anymore, which kinda kickstarted the abuse being focused onto Ed instead

I will be continuing this analysis with #2 because it is the most popular and explains his abandonment issues

Comic Based Childhood

So this guy basically grew up with Only his father. His father who is a dumbass, an alcoholic, blames Ed for his mother leaving, incredibly abusive physically, and couldn’t accept that 1) his kid is smarter than him or that 2) a kid so Weird cough traumatized and neurodivergent cough is anything but an idiot

A major sticking point was that he always thought Ed was lying, constantly, about everything. This will be important later.

And when Ed finally started going to school and getting A’s?? Yeah no Obviously he had to have been cheating so Mr Nashton just got More angry with him. Could Ed have dropped his grades on purpose to avoid this? Yeah. Did he? Absolutely not. Academic success was the one thing he could be proud of and the only thing that gave him any sort of praise or validation. He was clinging to it for dear life.

No matter the universe, this is a guy who craves attention.

There is difference between academic success and school life itself, because Ed is awkward n dorky n, especially at this point in time, anxious n quiet. So he didn’t have friends. In fact it’s usually written as either him having been bullied or being ignored entirely

The boy was not doing ok at all. So understandably he ran away as soon as possible and changed his name.

Now, this is the first point where Gotham’s canon ties into this in a Very interesting way

We know Ed’s official birth year from the ID card in the show. It’s canon. In season one he is 26. We know this. And it’s is insane for a few reasons!!

He is So Much Younger than his coworkers holy shit

Bullock is old enough to be his dad and he’s not nice, no wonder Ed doesn’t like him

He works in forensics. At 26. And he’s implied to have been working there a year or two before Jim joined the precinct.

Now, I had GENUINELY assumed that he was in his 30s like Jim. BECAUSE HE WORKS IN FORENSICS. But no he’s just actually a botched Spencer Reid because he’s 26 in season one.

A degree in forensic science takes 4 years.

If you want a masters it’s an extra 2 years.

Factoring in the time he would’ve needed to spend interning and working just to QUALIFY for a job at the GCPD???

If we assume he ran away n got into college at age 17 and got his bachelor's he’d be 21 by the time he graduated, 23 if he got his masters which of course he would, and then that leaves us only 3 or 1 year/s for internships and stuff before he joins the GCPD. What. What.

No wonder his apartment is so shitty!!! This is a man with hella student loans

But yeah! Hes only 26 and his 40 year old coworkers are bulling him for being weird. I’d hate my job too.

Bullock is 48 and I’m fully convinced he, like me, thinks Ed is at least 32 (Jim’s age) because. What.

So yeah that’s his general backstory, NOW the ways that plays into his mental state and how his actor managed to fit it into the show

So, you can reasonably assume he’s traumatized.

And!? There are so many subtle moments in the show where Cory acts his character accordingly for this. He flinches when people raise their voice, he’s visibly spooked when men in the GCPD get huffy (usually it’s Mr James Anger Issues Gordon). He’s skittish as a mouse. In the watermelon scene, when Gordon busts into the room, Ed immediately falls over himself to explain what he’s doing in there. The guy was terrified. Of James. Who’s never done a thing to him.

Beyond that? CPTSD -beyond the regular symptoms of flashbacks, triggers, and hyper awareness- also includes difficulty regulating emotions, feelings of shame/guilt, and trouble staying in relationships.

Ed Nygma is a damn textbook case. He has meltdowns, he falls into substances, he does ANYTHING but cope when he’s overwhelmed. He is constantly trying to prove he’s smart, there’s a gut deep shame when he doesn’t hold up to genius standards. And you’ve seen his relationships.

Basic info ab OCD: it’s an anxiety disorder and the two main things are obsessive compulsions and intrusive thoughts, both of which are present in Gotham but not handled nearly as well as they are in the comics

Compulsions first!

These tend to stem from subconscious thoughts and people won’t always know Why they have a compulsion but they’re generally a way of preventing a vague yet all consuming Bad Thing.

Now, with Ed one of his major sticking points in comics AND the show is he cannot tell blatant lies, especially not with yes/no answers.

This is part of why he compulsively leaves clues for absolutely everything and tries to be so vague when he is lying. He also jumps through hoops so that he won’t need to lie.

Lying = incredible all consuming dread and anxiety, so he just Doesn’t and uses his little hints and clues as a loophole. Very obviously from his father’s influence.

In the show this is shown multiple times but just for a few:

Lucious asking if Jim is at Ed’s house and when Ed tries to say no he seems almost forced to correct himself

The compulsive clue in “Tom’s” note, even when no one had asked him if he knew anything he still couldn’t keep it entirely to himself. The note is a loophole. Technically he told on himself. They just didn’t figure it out. (Well. Kristen kinda did but denying it aka lying sent him into an anxiety attack the moment she left. So.)

When Sofia Falcone was torturing him to find out where Oswald was, he told her. He just told her via a riddler he knew she didn’t understand! No need to lie!

In the car ride to the docks Oswald also calls him out directly by saying he’s so predictable because he’s driven by obsessive compulsion. This is the most the show acknowledges it.

Beyond his compulsions he’s got explicit intrusive thoughts regarding a few big things. (Should be noted that these tend to drive compulsions but not always.)

being viewed as stupid

Ergo his criminal history just being a big show to prove how smart he is. Again, his fathers influence.

being actually stupid

Not knowing things stresses him out So Bad and he takes it So Personally. He NEEDS to know everything. The world is a puzzle and he is Going to solve it.

Side note: That’s why I do LOVE that Gotham made him a forensics specialist!! He’s always had, to quote a DC podcast where he’s talking to Batgirl “-and you have that terrible all consuming pathology which comples you to find answers” “AnD i HaVe tHaT tErRiBlE aLL cOnsUmiNG PaThOLoGy wHiCh coMpELs mE tO FiNd AnSwErS- Yes.”

Biggest for last: being like his dad

This one is specifically fun because it was almost represented so well. ALMOST. His entire relationship with Kristen was downright molded by it, as shown in the file room anxiety attack. Yes that’s what I’m going to call it.

He is constantly fretting over being like Tom, even when he clearly isn’t because he is disgusted by Tom. No mysoginist is going to see someone with the same thoughts as gross. No guy who thinks women should be “put in their place” is going to have such a physical reaction to hearing that be said. No abusive pos is going to have that reaction at all. At least, not in the way that situation went down or in the way Ed’s afraid of being. We aren’t discussing emotional harm or Nygmobblepot today. But he frets anyway. And if we chose to interpret his riddler hallucination as a Really poor way of representing intrusive thoughts? Yeah. Yeah. His brain is making him panic about doing exactly what he hates so much.

*it should be noted that compulsions are often reinforced by intrusive thoughts. specific example: if he lies he will be saying something wrong, he can not be wrong, everyone is going to think he’s an idiot if he’s wrong. You can see how the two things connect. This applies to the majority of compilations in some way.

Now, a moment where I deviate from discussing what Did happened because I’ll forever mourn this particular writing fuck up:

His thing with Kristen could’ve been perfect. It could’ve been the best live action riddler origin to date. Because this is a guy with OCD who’s very traumatized and would have a strong personal reaction to finding out a friend is facing domestic abuse. That would make his relationships complicated too because of the thought loop it would create off the risk of “turning out to be the type of person he hates” or “what if I hurt her like I was hurt.” That would have been so compelling? AND? AND YKNOW WHAT? MY BIGGEST GRIPE? HIS FIRST PUSH INTO VIOLENT CRIME BEING STABBING AN ABUSER WOULD BE PERFECT. It would be on point. Exceptional foray into crime and murder. BUT THEY DIDNT PLAY IT LIKE THAT. No instead it’s highly tainted by “who gets the girl” and I just. N o. Ugh. They fumbled it!! They fumbled it So Hard. THEY MAKE HIM CREEPY AS FUCK TOWARDS KRISTEN. Like- physically blocking her into small spaces and imposing on her and talking over her when, if they HAD actually leaned into the OCD on purpose, he would probably be hyper aware of not doing.

[starry-sophrosyne]

for @sopping-wet-cat-wizard you stinky bastard man- D:< /j /nsrs /ref :

(as per usual this shit got WAY too long on accident so here you go swizard, enjoy XD) (not but this fr got super long, lengthy ass shit under the cut below)

After you said this, I actually struggled to decide between which idea I liked more, bc I hadn't really thought about it too much but their dynamic was def one of the two that you had brought up-

HOWEVER, you know how I was talking about that "community" that Brent introduced Sophist too? That gave him the confidence that he could start a new life, even without a perfectly clean slate, and letting everything hang out because not all but some people would be willing to accept him despite his previous lies and hidden past? Vern is the main player in that-

I wanna say he works at the cafe (omg cafe au reference- /j) that Brent and Sophist frequented when they first started hanging out more casually, with Brent being on good terms with Vern having come to this cafe for so long. Vern is the first person to openly approach him with this pure kindness and the two become good friends, with Brent and Eevee continuing to come here after they break off their respective abusive/toxic relationships.

As for Nick, I'm still really torn. I like the idea of him being a close/the closest colleague of Brent's, working at the same company as him and also being the person to suggest Sophist to Brent.

In the company, he's known as a bit of a slacker, but is very charismatic and popular with everyone, esp the ladies, and he somehow always seems to have luck on his side regarding making business deals, known for his ability to smooth talk his way into lucrative deals that make him favorable to the company (and overwrite his idleness). Outside of work though, he is a frequent client to the "business" ran by Leo. He has hooked up with Sophist atleast once but said it wasn't his thing, and prefers girls over guys, although he doesnt care that much to be honest. He's also a lot nicer than most of the clients, who otherwise stereotypically demand that they get straight to business, and will get to know the workers a little bit. This is what led to his connection with Sophist, as they're good friends and he's one of the only people Sophist talks about his job to outside of the industry (Nick was fucking SHOCKED when he found out the "rich sheltered boy" Sophist was talking about was in fact, Brent, and not another one of his regular vip clients. He did NOT have high confidence in even Sophist to "woo" over Brent, neither did he believe that they had actually done nothing lustful until he asked Brent himself.)

Either this, or as I mentioned earlier, he's one of Sophist's coworkers, although I have less to work with because I don't know how he'd "get out" of the business too without it feeling like a repeated version of sophist's journey, literally start to end- I DO think it would be funnier conceptually though, and better for plot if I did want to make a part two to this au focusing around tcvern3's relationship and the conflict i.e Nick being similarly being trapped, albeit less than Sophist, in the escort business.

At the very least, I definitely see this version of Nick as somebody who's more carefree and lax about his clients, and has definitely pissed a few of them off enough (he's DEFINITELY laughed at someones dick size to the point that they left i don't even care you're never taking that hc away from me- /hj /silly) to receive "punishments" but honestly? Fuck does he care? He's been in the industry less than Sophist has, so he doesn't really know how bad it can really get, but Sophist takes care of his junior regardless. If anything, maybe he can get him out of this life, unlike himself, and while Nick does have some moments of insecurities, he's currently not popular enough to know just how debilitating it can be. In return, he helps Sophist get out a little more and enjoy his life when not with clients, as he's grown so dependant on them (explained in a drabble i have coming up). His client was probably also the one who recommended Brent to Sophist, courtesy of him.

With either version of Nick, I can imagine him pulling up to meet Eevee a few months after he's left the business, genuinely happy to see him all healed and comfortable, wearing casual clothing and a genuine smile.

"So.. It's Eevee now, right?" He asked with a smirk on his face, but there was pure and evident happiness for his friend in his eyes, and that was enough to make Eevee laugh.

"Yeah, it is." He chuckled, a genuine smile spreading across his face. It was nice to see a familiar face after the whole fiasco. He hoped Nick hadn't suffered Leo's wrath after he had left (as a client or a worker). While eyeing him up and down and making sure he was ok, Eevee heard the soft patter of footsteps against the ground behind him. He hadn't even managed to look over his shoulder when-

"Eeevee! It's so good to see you again! Oh, and you brought a friend? Hi!! Nice to meet you! My name is Carnig, but you can call me Vernias!" The man excitedly stuck out his hand, his personality as bright as his pink hair. There was a sparkle in his eyes and a sweet smile on his face that always made him pleasant to everyone else. Meanwhile?

"... Oh!- Uh- Nice to meet you too Vernias, uh.. yeah.."

Eevee had to hold back his giggle at the faint flush that had appeared on his friend's cheeks, clearly more than surprised by Vern's bright personality, not to say that it was a bad thing. He instead settled for giving Nick a comical wink, his smile morphing into a smirk as Nick gave him a dirty side eye, for just a second, before snapping back into his normal self (or as normal as he could find himself) and began to chat up Vern. In no time, he'd put his charismatic personality to use, making Vern let out a bubbly laugh that turned the tips of his ears warm at the sound.

Also/In fact, with either version of the au, I think Nick's struggle would parallel either Brent's or Sophist's respective struggle in his relationship with Vern/plot conflict. I could imagine for Office-Nick, that he was also born with a rather well off/rich family who has been in good kahoots with Brent's family (actually yes, i now decree that in this version, they're family friends but not in a childhood friends kind of way bc Brent was prevented him from even playing with the son of a well off family as a child bc damn his parents-). They run their own business but have let Nick work with Brent's family's company due to it's success, their animosity as family friends, and their desire for him to get more experience in the working world. However, they meet up with him one day and tell him to quit his job, as seeing his success, they've decided he's finally ready to take over their own company. This would also result in his parents engaging him with somebody, aka Nicole (YOOO STARRY FINALLY REFS NICOLE /hj) who's family also well off/has a high status, for the sake of public image (and MORE company optimization babyyy-/srs /lh), leaving him distraught about his blooming relationship with Vern because he can't just leave. His parents have treated him well his whole life, nothing like Brent's parents (whose toxicity he finally understood to the fullest extent after the whole fiasco), and they haven't given him a reason to actively break everything off to go chase this- this cafe worker. It's painful to admit, but he doesn't have the heart nor the right to just do so just like Brent has. It drives him into this state of turmoil, maddening and insane.

I'm also so fucking tired that I can't conceptually think of Escort-Nick's struggle in detail rn (also bc of what i said and it being repetitive of sophist's struggle-) uhm yeah thats all i can give you lmao im so genuinely burnt out rn- /srs /gen

this got so fucking long bro even for my standards istg- ╥﹏╥

[ariemfox]

ASK FOR YOU: for my story i’ve been considering this, but you’re way better at these characters than me so i’d love your insights:

What kind of relationship do you think Chase and Adam’s have? I feel like Chase and Park’s friendship is pretty easy to see and understand and gets a lot of focus, but Chase and Adams to me seem weirdly disconnected — we’re told by House and Park they flirt and are kind of into one another, but I’m not sure we really see it from them. I’m ultimately not sure if I’d call them friends or colleagues or what, but I could also be completely wrong and missing a whole dynamic. What do you think?

oof so this is something that my penpal friend/mutual (an all-round absolute legend) have discussed a whole lot, so these ideas are kinda of our conflated thoughts.

the thing about chase & adams is that though they are distant, they understand each other almost intrinsically. so to understand their relationship, we need to look at their similarities and differences.

they both have exes and know what it's like to be divorced and abandoned by them. they also have similar backgrounds: adams is from a rich & old american family (implying related to the presidents with the last names of adams), and chase is also from a rich family with his famous dad. they both have priveleged lives in that sense, but have hugeee guilt complexes to go along with that. whilst chase's guilt complex tends to surround catholic themes bc of the way he was raised, adams' guilt is focused upon her rich privelege (and how she feels she doesn't deserve it compared to other people) and crucially, her parents.

this brings us on to another similarity, their families. we all know that chase's family was a shithole, end of discussion. but with adams, it's a little more complicated. now, this is where it gets v meta so hold on to me here, bc it does make an insane amount of sense.

in the 'parents' episode, house is on a miasion to find out what adams' parents did to Fuck Her Up. she reveals she ran away at 16, and adams insists that it was not because her parents were abusive or 'screwed her up' like house says, it was because when compared to her friends' neglectful/abusive parents, she 'envied their dysfunction' bc she thought 'it made them deeper somehow'. she moved in with an older guy at SIXTEEN (might i add that chase also fucked the groundskeepers wife in his weird english priest boarding school too, another dodgy similarity). and apparently, her parents never got over her running away.

first of all, what normal, well-adjusted person thinks this. second of all, it definitely speaks to some kind of some kind of wmotional gaslighting on her parents side. the amount of excuses she makes for her parents, and the shows emphasis on making the emotionally-abused patient in 'runaways' adams' mirror, this is adams' character episode where she gets personally involved and constantly tries to excuse the patient's mother's behaviour. my lovely friend/mutual @x-birdsong-x explains this beautifully in this tumblr post if u want more details:

there is an almost innate sadness to adams that's only ever implicity shown. her life feels very... empty - we know almost nothing about her background bc she's so evasive about it, particularly when compared to park. take the scene in parents where chase asks what her parents did to fuck her up, and she evades the question by joking they did white-collar crime & human trafficking. whilst chase is honest when he tells her his mother locked him in his father's study as a child, but disconnected; all clinical facts and no feelings, adams lies/evades and gets snappy and defensive whenever someone brings it up. we see this multiple times throughout parents.

she's crafted her persona into a rich kid who doesn't deserve her privelege, who gives back to others/save lives to help those less fortunste to her. she feels like she has to balance the scales, ig. she heals out of guilt, as a way to wallow in her misery and martyrdom. contrast this to chase, who heals and gives back for a personal distraction ("Only so many hours you can cry and bang on the door before you give up, find something to read. We all have family dysfunction. That's why we're successful. To fill that hole."). they have similar pasts, but different responses. in a way, adams is like who chase would be if he went down a different road.

there is an almost innate sadness to adams that's never explicitly shown but very much implied. whenever chase and adams have conversations one-on-one, there's frail, tentative empathy between them. their similarities mean that they understand each other on a deep, personal level (quite similar to chase & thirteen, but with less friendship involved) however, bc chase is so factual, and emotionally-distanced from his childhood and his divorce - they only ever hit him when he's looking at either his dad or cameron in the face - and adams is so evasive, reactive, tempremental and snappy when confronted with her side of things... they've never truly connected. they have the same roots but have branched off to opposing sides of the tree, they are like ghosts, alternate versions of the deepest untouched parts of each other. i think that's how i'd describe their relationship.

i think house clocked on to the fact that it's intimate, particularly in 'we need the eggs', bc they are so alike. adams obviously felt this vague sort of empathy between them too in this episode, seeing as she asks chase out for drinks 'for a change' - she wants to get over her issues - but chase declines because he's not over cameron. whether this was romantic though? it wasn't for chase, but i don't think adams really knew; she doesn't show romantic/sexual attraction to him, all i think she knew is what house noticed. that they had some sort of connection, and adams wanted to explore that, to find someone who understands.

i think ur right in that they're disconnected. they could connect but they won't, and it's also a different kind of intimate than to what house inferred. they are like long-lost siblings who shared a childhood, but time has changed them so much that they struggle to face each other honestly. they are a reminder to each others' pasts, and i don't think chase completely likes that (in s8 anyway), he doesn't like the idea of what he could've become. but adams - who has felt alone her whole life, disconnected from her peers, disadvantaged patients (who had it worse in her mind), and colleagues prior to s8 - wants to connect with someone who gets what it's like. even if she doesn't completely get it, bc although she's come to terms with the divorce, she hasn't yet accepted how her parents impacted her by s8.

sorry for how long this reply is!! they are so interesting to me. i hope it kinda helped tho? lmk ur thoughts if u like (:

[bbymunsonx]

The Last Time (Ted's Version)

Chapter Ten

chapter warnings: language, ANGST, violence, abuse, smut(!!!), piv, oral (f), ted lasso is an aftercare king bc obvi (18+)

word count: 5.8k

buckle up ;)

"Julian?"

"You know, when I had to hear from my friends that you had taken a job with my coaches and moved across the Atlantic, I didn't think it was true. I thought to myself, 'Now, why would Lacy do that? Lacy is the kind of girl that's too scared to do anything. She'd be too scared to leave.' But here you are." Julian smirked, as he could sense that I was scared. He always could. 

"What- what are you doing here?" I asked.

"Just thought I'd pay a trip to see my girlfriend. I missed you so much," He grabbed his face with his hands and harshly planted an open kiss right on my lips. It was like he was trying to mark his territory. That's how he always felt with me. 

Just then, Ted's door swung open and he peaked his head out, "Is everything alright, Lace-." He immediately stopped when he realized what was happening. "Julian."

"Coach Lasso! How's it going, man?" Julian reached out to fist bump Ted but he didn't budge. He just kept his eyes on me. 

"Remember that movie we're gonna go see, we have to leave now if we're gonna make it in time," Ted said on the fly, coming up with an excuse to get Julian to leave. 

"Wait a second," Julian's gaze went from Ted to me to Ted to me. "Are you fucking this old man?" My blood ran cold, once again. I could take his abuse, I have for years. But I couldn't stomach him being mean to Ted, even if I was angry with him.

"No, Julian. He's not my boyfriend. You are. I only love you." I grabbed Julian's face to make him look at me, taking the heat off of Ted. Julian shook out of my grip and went walking over to Ted. 

"I used to like you. I thought you were a great coach. But then you steal my girlfriend away from me, and then you fuck her?" Julian's voice started to raise. 

"Julian, I understand why you are frustrated, okay? But Lacy here and I are just co-workers. Nothing more. She really loves you. I can tell." Ted nodded at Julian to try to get him to listen. 

Julian grabbed Ted by the collar of his shirt, "If I hear that you even talk to her, I will kick your fucking ass, old man, do you understand me? Besides," Julian got closer to Ted's ear, "Only I will ever know the sounds she makes right before she's about to-."

"Leave him alone!" I interjected and pulled Julian off of Ted. I have never even thought about doing something like that, but Ted is such an innocent guy. He doesn't deserve to be treated like this. 

"What's going on?" Coach Beard finally whipped his head out of his flat, probably because Julian was being so loud.

"You fucking bitch, did you just touch me? Did you touch me?" Julian spit at me. He started slowly walking toward me, trying to corner me against the wall. "Remember, you're a fucking good for nothing slut. You'd be nowhere if it weren't for me. I'm the only reason why you are where you are and I want you to remember that for the rest of your miserable fucking life." I flinched with every word that he threw at me. 

Julian moved closer to my ear and whispered, "You will always be mine. I own you." Julian punched the wall causing the drywall to crumble, inches away from my face. 

"You know what I think, Julian?" For some reason, Ted and Beard being here made me feel safe enough to be able to say this, and if I don't say it now, I never will. "I think you're an insecure little boy who feels threatened by your girlfriend leaving you to go work with two men. Two men that you always admired. You will never be half the man that Ted is, and you should feel fucking ashamed. You are an abusive piece of shit and you don't own anything. We are fucking over." 

If looks could kill, Ted, Beard, and I would all be dead on the floor. I feared that if Ted and Beard weren't here, Julian would actually kill me. But, to give the final blow, I leaned into his ear and whispered, "You wanna talk to Ted about that 'little sound I make right before I finish'? You've never made me finish a fucking day in my life, you selfish asshole." I smirked to myself knowing that what I just said had just tipped him over the ledge. 

"You fucking cunt," I swore at me. My eyes widen as I noticed him wind his fist back. He was gonna hit me. He always hit me, threw me into furniture, and pushed me around. He never actually "punched" me in the face. He always said he was too much of a gentleman. And now, now, he's going to punch me. As his fist was winded back, I closed my eyes, preparing for the blow. Suddenly, Ted grabbed both of his hands and held them behind his back, restraining him. 

Coach Beard walked up to Julian as he was restrained and said, "You know, I never liked you," before knocking him unconscious. When Julian landed on the ground, I let out a giant exhale my legs gave out, sending me to the floor. 

Completely ignoring Julian just laying on the ground, Ted came rushing over to me on the floor similarly to how I helped Ted when he had his panic attack. He took my face in his hands and looked me right in the face, "Lacy, breathe, baby, you gotta breathe." I looked up at him and just nodded, slowly down my breaths. 

"I'm gonna call the police. Do you want me to call Keeley and Rebecca?" Coach Beard asked. I could only nod. Coach Beard stepped away to go use his phone while Ted and I remained on the floor. 

"I'm gonna go see if Beard needs help making those calls," Ted went to get up but I immediately just grabbed his hand. 

"No. Please don't leave me." My voice shook. Ted immediately knelt back down and sat right next to me to the point where are legs were flushed against one another. 

"Alright, Lacy Loo. I'm not going anywhere. You might get a bit annoyed in a day or two but just remember you asked for this." He tried to joke with me and it actually made me laugh. Technically, I just blew air out of my nose but it's the thought that counts. 

I leaned my head on Ted's shoulder and interlocked out fingers together while we both sat on the floor waiting for the police to come. 

***

The police arrive within ten minutes and Keeley and Rebecca arrived within fifteen minutes. By the time the girls arrived, Julian had already been taken away by the police. One of the woman police officers knelt down on the floor to talk to me about what happened. After taking notes, she nodded and promised he wouldn't be an issue anymore. 

As soon as Rebecca and Keeley arrived, they switched spots with Ted and sat next to me. "When I got divorced, I had to absolutely best lawyers money could buy. I'll send them over your way, of no cost of course." Rebecca said as she took my hand. 

"Rebecca, I can't do that." I shook my head vigorously. 

"I knew you were going to say that. That's why I already made the phone call on my way here." She smiled down at me. "He's not going to hurt you anymore. I promise you that. We'll have a restraining order drawn up before the sun rises."

"I made a couple phone calls to some people, myself. I actually know some real shady people so let's see if the prick is even alive by the time your lawyers get to him. I had to talk Roy out of killing him himself," Keeley said causing me to smile. 

The three of us sat on the ground while Ted and Coach Beard were talking to the police officers outside. 

"So, they're taking him in," Ted came in and told us. "I wouldn't worry about him for right now. You're safe." Ted smiled down at me. 

"Babes, do you wanna stay the night with me? I don't think you should be alone." Keeley offered. 

"Ya know, she could stay with me." Ted suggested. "That way all of her stuff is here so that's one less thing she's gotta worry about." 

"Thank you, Keeley, but I think I'll stay with Ted." I shot her a guilty smile which made her smile. 

"You got it." She kissed my forehead. 

When I finally mustered enough strength to stand up, Rebecca and Keeley so I could get some rest. Ted helped me make a trip up to my flat to get some of the essentials I needed for the night to get settled into his flat. 

"Here, you can sleep in my bed and I'll sleep on the couch, alright?" Ted put all of my stuff down on the bed. 

"Ted, you're already opening your home for me, I can't ask for you to give up your bed, too. I'll sleep on the couch." I took my stuff off the bed and handed it back to Ted. 

"Absolutely not," Ted put my belongings back on the bed, "Mama Lasso would fly all the way over here and kick my buttocks if she knew I let you sleep on the couch. You're taking the bed, end of discussion." 

I smiled, "Okay. Do you mind if I take a quick shower? I just feel...icky." 

"Of course. I'll get everything set up for you." Ted disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes. "Alright I put your shower products in there, a towel, a washcloth, and a toothbrush. I think that should be everything."

"Thank you, Ted." I smiled and patted him on the shoulder before walking behind him, into the bathroom. 

I took my time in the shower, making sure to scrub every inch of my body. Every single inch that Julian might have ever touched. Every single inch that Julian offended and claimed as his own. My body belongs to me and only me. 

After my shower, I saw Ted's Chief's t-shirt and a pair of my pajama bottoms on the bed. On top of the t-shirt was a note that said, "The only Kansas football player worthy of our time is Travis Kelce... no one else (don't worry, it's clean) - Ted" . I smiled to myself before putting on the t-shirt. It was extremely oversized, but it made me feel safe. 

 I walked into the kitchen to see Ted making Rebecca her biscuits. Before he realized I was standing there, I giggled to myself as I heard the faint sound of Taylor Swift coming from his phone, and the faintest sound of the lyrics stumbling from his lips. 

"So you're a secret Swiftie, huh?" I smirked. He jumped as he realized I was there. 

"Geez Louise. You'll give me a heart attack." Ted placed his hand over his heart. "It's just a playlist of all the hits. Of course Ms. Taylor Swift's gonna be on there." 

"Uh huh." I didn't believe him. "So you're gonna tell me you weren't singing along just now? This song isn't even a single." I laughed. 

"Excuse me, "Dancing with our Hands Tied" is one of my favorites." Ted scoffed. 

"You're definitely a Swiftie, Ted. Only Swifties know that song," I laughed, hoisting myself on the counter. I immediately took one of the big spoons that Ted was using to bake and used it as a pretend microphone as I started singing along with the song. I gave Ted the spoon back, but not to bake, but to sing the following lyrics. He knew every single word. We were in our own little word, I had almost completely forgot the events that took place tonight. 

I could spend all night sitting on this counter singing Taylor Swift, but I was just getting so tired,"I'm gonna try to get some sleep."

"Alright, let me know if there's anything you need alright?" Ted's eyes softened, to which I nodded. 

"Goodnight, Ted." 

"Goodnight, sugar." He said softly to the bag of sugar he was using to bake, "Oh yeah, goodnight to you too, Lacy."

I rolled my eyes and laughed as I walked over to his bedroom. 

***

"Lacy! Lacy you're dreaming! Wake up, honey! You gotta get up!" I heard in my sleep as my body started shaking. I woke up with a gasp, my scream filling the dark room. "You're okay. You're alright. Come here." Ted took my body into his grasp, holding me tight. 

"What happening?" I asked, completely oblivious as to what happened. 

"I was sleeping and I just heard you screaming. It seems like you were having a really bad nightmare. Does this happen often?" Ted asked as he stroked my hair. 

My head hung down, "No. This hasn't happened since I was with Julian. It stopped a few months ago."

"Well, you're alright now, okay? Try to get some sleep." Ted went to get up before I grabbed his arm. 

"Please. Please stay." I whimpered, almost mirroring the same conversation we had earlier in the night. 

"Are you sure? I don't have to," Ted was apprehensive at first. 

"I don't wanna be alone." I softly said making Ted nod. I scooched over, making room for Ted on the bed. I laid back down on my back, the same as Ted. The two of us staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep. 

It wasn't until Ted had inched his hand over to mine, and interlaced his pinky with mine. That alone made me feel the safest I've felt in months, easing me to sleep right away. 

***

Three days after the incident, Keeley had sent me a screenshot of an article written by Trent Crimm in "The Independent". The headline read "American Tourist Killed in Jail Incident". 

Keeley Jones: Told you. 

I didn't even have to read the article. I knew all that I had to know and it made my heart feel more at ease. Ted still wouldn't let me stay in my flat. We had made a deal that he'd let me move back into my flat when I stopped waking up in the middle of the night screaming. That could be never, but he didn't care. He just didn't want me alone. 

It's been five days since Julian was killed and I still can't get my night terrors under control. Ted and I were sitting on the couch, on opposite ends of course, having a drink and watching a movie. Both of us were in our pajamas, comfortable. But the alcohol created some tension in the air. 

I got up from the couch to go back to the kitchen to get another drink. Suddenly, the alcohol gave me the courage to say, "Can I ask you something a little personal?"

"Yeah, of course." He looked over at me. 

"Are you in love with Sassy?" I asked as I leaned against the counter.

"Why would you think I was in love with Sassy?" He seemed genuinely confused. 

"Because you had sex with her." Ted jumped off the couch as I responded. 

"Um, how do you know I slept with Sassy?" He asked, his eyes widening.

"I went to your room that night, just to ask how you were doing after everything that happened at karaoke. And let's just say that you're very vocal when you have sex. Also, I guess you forgot my room was right next to yours." I laughed. 

"Jesus Christ, Lacy, I'm-I'm so sorry. I didn't know you could hear all... all that." Ted apologized.

"You don't have to apologize, Ted. I was just wondering if you loved her." 

Ted laughed. "No, I don't love her. I was just upset and she was there. She's a great woman, but no, I don't love her." I hoisted myself up on the counter and sighed as he said that. "Why do you seem like you're relieved?" He raised an eyebrow at me. 

"Why would I possibly be relieved? Remember, I told you I liked Jamie." I smirked.

"You never told me you liked Jamie, you just told me that you were upset that he left. Actually, since you asking me if I loved Sassy solely because I had sex with her, I guess it's only fair if I ask you if you're in love with Jamie?" 

"Ted, don't be silly, of course I'm not in love with Jamie." I said. Ted started to walk closer to me, slowly. 

"Well, I, for one am relieved." Ted jokingly sighed a breath of relief. 

"Why are you possibly relieved?" I chucked. 

"I think you deserve to be with a real man that'll treat you well. And Jamie is not that man." Ted continued to walk closer to me. 

"You never know. Jamie is starting to change for the better. But I guess we'll never know now that he's gone," I laughed. 

"Lacy," Ted said seriously. I raised my eyebrows at him, showing him I was listening, intently. "Are you in love with anyone?" He furrowed his eyebrows at me, his eyes beginning to soften. 

"That's a loaded question, Coach Lasso. I think I may have to take this up with HR." I laughed as Ted moved as close as he possibly could, my legs instantly widening so he could stand in between them. 

"Panda." Ted said through lowered eyelids, his glance moving from my lips to my eyes. I'll always giggle at the idea of a grown man saying 'panda' to me. I should've picked a sexier word. 

"I'm in love with you, Ted." My eyebrows furrowed as those words fell out of my mouth. I couldn't lie anymore. Not to him or myself. Even though I'd love to blame it on the alcohol, the adrenaline of Ted standing between my legs made me feel completely sober. "I should've said it before, but I'm in love with you, Theodore Lasso. I've been in love with you since the first time I saw you. I love you so much it hurts." I grabbed his face in my hands and stroked his cheek with my thumb, causing him to shut his eyes. 

"Please... say something." I continued. 

"Lacy Watson, you are the most perfect woman that I have ever met in my entire life. I've loved you for so long and I'm so sorry that I made you think that I didn't. It sickens me how much love I have for you. Could you forgive me?" Ted raised an eyebrow at me. 

"I think you need to get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness," I joked around, being facetious. Ted instantly got on his knees right in front of me, still leaving me sat on top of the counter. 

"I remember on the flight over here, you told me you liked Taylor Swift and South Park. Every time I bake Rebecca her biscuits, I like to turn on Taylor Swift because it makes me feel like you're with me. You caught me the other night and I lied to you because I was embarrassed, but it's true. I love Taylor Swift because I love you. And every time I fall asleep at night, I turn on South Park in hopes that it'll somehow bring me closer to you. That's how much I love you." Ted said while looking up at me through glossy eyes. 

"Stand up, Teddy," I whispered to him. I quickly batted away the tears that started to form in my eyes. 

"Yes ma'am," he responded, but this time, his voice sounded way lower and had much more of a southern drawl to it. 

Ted rose to meet me at eye level, his gaze still flickering between my lips and my eyes. His eyes were glossed with inexplainable longing. I needed him and I needed him now. 

Ted lowered his head several inches until his lips were mere centimeters away from mine. He left his lips hovering for a second, and before I knew it, he pressed his lips onto mine. He started slowly at first, not knowing how I was going to react, but he didn't know how much I truly needed him. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him closer. The feeling of his mustache on my sensitive skin was even better than I imagined. As he started kissing me with more passion, I opened my mouth slightly to welcome his tongue. I squealed as soon as I felt his tongue, feeling pleasantly surprised by the feeling. Ted pulled away for a second, it felt like the worst second of my entire life.

"Uh oh, seems like I'm not the only one that's loud during sex," Ted taunted. 

"Oh, shut up," I scoffed and pulled him back to me. His lips were ravenous against my mouth, then traveled down to my neck and my collar bone. Every time he suck on my neck resulted in a desperate moan escaping my mouth. 

Suddenly, all of my clothes felt way too tight. My nipples strained in my tank top, it was almost painful. I groaned in frustration. I just wanted to rip all my clothes off. 

"What is it, baby?" Ted raised his head from my neck to meet my face, sending my frustration full force. 

"I need you, I need you now." I whined. Without question, Ted lifted me off of the counter, both of his hands flushed against my ass. My legs were wrapped around his waist as he tried to walk us to the bedroom. I wasted no time reattaching his lips to mine while grinding my core onto his obvious boner that was showing through his grey sweatpants. 

"Darlin', if you keep doing that I'm gonna bust in my pants before we even make it to the bedroom." Ted whispered in between kisses. As he was talking, I kissed a trail up and down his neck. 

"You better walk faster then, old man," I taunted, still peppering his neck in kisses. Ted rushed his pace and got us into the bedroom, gently placing me down on his bed. I inched up until I was flush against the headboard. 

I laid down while he started to climb up my body and started layering kisses all over my neck and face. "Mmm you're so beautiful, darlin'," Ted yearned in between kisses. 

Ted attached himself to my lips for a few more seconds before he started making his way down further. Thankfully, I didn't wear a bra tonight but my tank top was still way too much fabric. Ted started with sucking on my neck, then sucking on my collar bone, causing me to whimper. This man was such a tease. 

My nipples were rock hard and strained against the fabric of my tank top. As Ted was focused on on my collar bone, I snuck a hand underneath by tank top and slowly started to tug on my right nipple to relieve some of the pressure. 

Ted stopped kissing me for a minute and pulled away, looking down at me. "I'm sorry? Am I not good enough for you?" he joked while pulling my hand out from underneath my shirt. 

"Ted," I whined. "Please."

"Please what?" He quirked an eyebrow. 

"Touch me," I continued to whine. 

"Have I not been touching you this entire time?" He dragged a finger down my neck, down my collar bone, and right onto my tits. His fingers trailed both tits, intentionally not touching my nipples. He wanted to hear me say it first. 

"I need you to fuck me, Ted," I groaned. 

"Yes, ma'am," He nodded. That's all it took for him to hook his fingers around the bottom of my tank top and yanking it over my head. I laid underneath him, with no tank top on and no bra. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated at the sight of me bare beneath him. "Christ," he whispered before leaning down and taking one of my nipples in his mouth. That's all it took for me to become a whimpering mess. He swirled his tongue around my peaked nipples, slowly, making sure he was taking his time. 

"Fuck, Ted," I whined as he continued to suck on my nipples, making sure he was paying equal attention to both. When his mouth was latched to one, his thumb and forefinger worked on the other one, and vice versa. My arms were littered with goosebumps as my body was overtaken my pure pleasure. I arched my nipple into his mouth, chasing the warm heat. 

After he was done, Ted kissed his way down my stomach, taking his time and making sure every part of me was accounted for. As he laid between my legs, he looked up at me to get visible consent to continue. I frantically nodded and he laced his fingers under my shorts before yanking them down. 

I was wearing a pair of one of my nice lacy, black underwear tonight. I continued to pinch my nipples as Ted sucked on the inside of my thighs. As Ted worked his way to my core, went to pull my underwear down before I suddenly tightened up. "Wait a second!"

"What's wrong? Are you okay? We can stop if you want," Ted looked extremely worried. 

"Ted, I think I would actually kill you if you stopped right now. I just, I've never," I motioned to him in between my legs and then motioned in between my legs. I was so embarrassed that I covered my face. 

"No one's ever eaten you out before?" He quirked an eyebrow at me. I shook my head. 

"He always said it was gross. He always expected me to do the work," I groaned. Ted scoffed. 

"I don't have to if you don't want me to. But," Ted paused for a minute, "I'd absolutely love to."

I slowly removed my hands from my face, "Yeah?" I questioned, this time I quirked an eyebrow at him. 

"Baby, I wanna make you feel good. Do you you trust me?" He continued to rub my thighs to get me out of my head. 

"Absolutely," I smiled. 

"So just lay back and let me make you feel good," Ted smirked. I took a deep breath and laid on my back. I raised my hips a bit in order to help Ted get my underwear off. From the top of the bed, I could hear his breath shudder at the sight of my bare pussy. 

He planted kisses all over my thighs, but instead of stopping this time, he placed a kiss right on top of my pussy, causing me to let out an elongated whine. 

"Wow, just one touch and you're already whining for me," Ted cockily said into my core. I couldn't even speak so I just moaned in agreement. 

He extended his tongue and licked a long strip from my core right to my clit. Between the warm, wetness from his tongue and the harsh contact of his mustache on my clit, my back immediately arched off of the bed. 

As his tongue kept sucking on my clit, he slipped one finger inside of me, thrusting it in and out. 

"Mmm, Teddy, you feel so good." I moaned. 

"I can feel you clenching around my fingers darlin'." Ted lifted his face from my pussy to joke around, but if he pulled away one more time I was going to start sobbing. I tugged on his hair and forced it back in between my legs. The second I pulled on his hair, Ted let out a whine. I'll have to remember that. 

As his tongue became more hectic on my clit and his fingers pumped even faster, I inadvertently started to grind on his face. 

I  had suddenly remembered the night of the gala, when I had gotten home and touched myself to the exact thought of this. The reality is so much better than I had imagined. 

As I was getting closer to finishing, I hooked my ankles around his neck and interlaced my fingers in his hair, making sure he didn't move. 

"Teddy, I'm gonna, I'm gonna come." I whined. 

"It's alright, darlin'. Come on my face," Ted whispered. That's all it took for the cord in my lower belly to let go as I came all over Ted's face. 

"Fuuuuck,"  I breathlessly groaned as I rode out my high on Ted's face. His face stayed still, lapping up every last drop of me. He looked up at me, his eyes completely filled with lust, with my come dripping off of his mustache. His hair had become messy and was flopped over his forehead. It was the hottest thing I've ever seen. I pulled him back up to the top of the bed and immediately latched my mouth onto him. 

Correction, tasting myself on him was the hottest thing. 

I reached the bottom of his white T-shirt and pulled it over his head. I sat myself back so I could take in the sight of him. His broad shoulders. His dad-bod. The little trail of hair that lead underneath his pants. He was perfect. 

"Jesus Christ, Teddy." I groaned as I pulled him back to my mouth. As we continued to sloppily make out, I trailed my hands down his broad chest, down his stomach, and cupped him through his pants. "Do you want me to-" I looked down at his growing boner. 

"There's nothing I'd love more than your pretty little mouth on my cock, but I don't think I'd last two seconds." Ted cringed at himself as he spoke, causing me to giggle.

"Next time, then," I smiled. 

He kissed me for a few more seconds before he took off his grey sweatpants and his boxers. This man was huge, I thought to myself. But I didn't want anything more. My mouth practically watered at the sight of his throbbing cock in front of me. As he reattached his mouth onto mine, I quickly wrapped my leg around his, flipping us over so I was on top of him. 

"Is this okay?" I asked him, wanting to make sure he was still okay. 

Ted cupped my face, "Absolutely, darlin'. Can you reach over to my nightstand and grab a condom real quick?"

I smirked at him for a second before reaching over and grabbing a condom. "Did you hope this would be happening, Coach Lasso?" 

"If you call me Coach Lasso I'm gonna bust before I even get to fuck ya," Ted strained. 

"That's what does it for you?" I laughed while ripping the wrapping off of the condom and rolling it onto his throbbing cock. 

I interlocked my arms around Ted's neck as I gave myself leverage so I could slowly start to lower myself on his cock. His eyes immediately snapped shut and his breathing started to shake. He moved his hands to my hips so he could control how I move. My breath immediately hitched as I felt like he was going to split me into two. 

"Jesus, fuck, baby, you're so tight." Ted groaned, with his eyes still shut. 

"I'm not gonna move until you look at me, Teddy." I smirked, making his eyes start to flutter open. I sank down a little bit more, still getting used to the length. 

My mouth hung open, not even making any noise. I was so overtaken by the feeling of being full that my body couldn't do anything. 

After letting my pussy become accustomed to Ted, Ted groaned while looking down at us, "You got all of me, darlin'." 

That's when I began to move. Ted held my hips in place as I started to circulate my hips. I leaned down to kiss Ted, and the two of us just ended up whimpering into each others mouths. 

As I sped up my pace, Ted tried to keep his mouth latched to mine to stop me from screaming, "You gotta keep quiet, baby. You don't want Beard hearing us, do you?" Ted whimpered. 

"The whole city of Richmond could hear us for all I care. I want this entire city to know how fucking good you feel." I whimpered into Ted's mouth. 

"Fuck, Lace," Ted moaned into my mouth. There was just something about hearing Ted curse that almost made me come itself. "I'm almost there."

"Me too, baby,"  I let out a drawn out gasp. As soon as I said that, Ted reached out and used his thumb to rub circles around my sensitive clit. That completely sent me over the edge. "Fuck, Ted. I'm gonna-I'm-"

"Come with me, baby. That's it. Good girl," Ted whimpered as he could feel me clench around him. The both of us reaching our highs at the same exact time. I continued to whimper as I rode out my high, placing my forehead on Ted's forehead. Our incredibly sweaty foreheads instantly latching to one another. 

Ted slowly pulled out of me, causing me to roll over and fall onto my back, completely out of breath. I covered my face with my hands, immediately getting nervous about laying in Ted's bed naked. He must've sensed my apprehension as he almost instantaneously covered me with his sheet. 

"I'll be right back, darlin'," he whispered while kissing me on the forehead. After a moment, he comes back into the room with his boxers back on and a warm washcloth in his hands. 

"Can I?" He asked while he motioned the washcloth in between my legs. 

I could've almost sobbed. No man has ever done this for me, ever. "Of course, Teddy." I smiled. My heart was so full. 

Ted used the washcloth to help clean me up. He even took his time since he knew I was still sensitive. He got up from the bed to grab me my tank top and a pair of his boxers to wear. After I used the bathroom, I got dressed and giggled at myself in the mirror. I looked so sexed out. 

I walked back into the bedroom and my heart beamed at the sight of Ted laying in bed with his grey sweatpants and his white t-shirt back on. His back was pressed up against the headboard as he channel surfed, looking for my favorite show. He patted the spot next to him on the bed. I flopped down on the bed and nuzzled myself in his arms. 

"Here we go!" He exclaimed as he put on South Park, smiling down at me. 

"Ya know, you don't have to watch this now if you don't want to. You've already got me, Teddy." I looked up at him. 

"Actually, I don't mind. I've gotten used to it. It's actually a really good show," he laughed. As my eyes started to flutter shut, Ted must've thought I had fallen asleep since he leaned down to kiss me on the forehead before whispering, "Goodnight, my love."

That was the first night in over a week where I slept through the entire night.

authors note: there we have it folks!!!! julians dead and ted & lacy finally fucked! the end!! (jk im just getting started hehe) but this is the first time ive literally ever written smut so I hope its okay!!

taglist: @nerdgirljen

[trickstarbrave]

i still really hate ppl saying vivec is a liar or a historical revisionist bc the 36 sermons aren't 100% factual historical accounts. its extremely obvious they are not supposed to be. they are not called "the life of the god vivec" they are SERMONS. they are meant to teach religious and moral lessons, not give you an accurate, objectively correct, factual account of real historical events. his parents are not named. he was an 'egg' in the womb and then when he was 'born' he was a fully grown being. its cloaked in poetic language because what you are supposed to take from them is not a historical lesson but a religious or spiritual one.

like. lets say you wanna communicate how a traumatic event has impacted you. and that you have only two options to do so: one that is as factually accurate as you can make it with a limited perspective told unbiasedly, or a creative project like a poem or novel that is designed to evoke an emotional reaction in the reader. the first one will give an accurate account of the event but not how it impacted you. by nature of how its being told you are giving only the cold hard facts because your emotional state might involve leaving out important factual details to get an accurate view of what happened. the other one is not telling someone exactly what happened to you, but is communicating something that might be much more important: how it impacting you emotionally, mentally, and physically by making your audience relate to, sympathize with, or even empathize with those feelings. it is also not a 100% factual historical account and cannot be used to paint an accurate picture of the events that effected you, though someone could infer many details.

the 36 sermons are about trauma and achieving divinity and what that divinity even means. vivec is a person who was deeply traumatized. abusive family, ran away, ended up joining a gang selling both his body and hard drugs. he was then picked up off the streets by nerevar (a mer significantly older than him), and learned a lot from him, before likely killing him in at least one timeline, breaking his oath to not use the tools in all others. those are the details about vivec's life we can infer from the sermons or from other lore texts or in game dialogue. there are reasons why he made nerevar HIS student in the sermons and why he never names his parents (at least in the in game ones) and why he describes seht and ayem as both his siblings and parents simultaneously. but if you go "this isn't factually correct, vivec is a liar" you are straight up not going to understand the sermons or vivec or take away any important lessons from them.