#believe it's to do with shadow banning

[kittybroker]

this is Tory, my cat. she likes climbing onto the windows and sleeping in the sun on the table

Tory the great sun sleeper rests peacefully on this warm day! This benevolent beast only $23.30!

[mutelunacy]

ok i guess my blog has a mature warning now? ok alright i guess its automatic when you mark too many things as mature lel

[snekdood]

i dont feel like being generally disliked on tumblr is a good enough reason to shadow ban me

[ramblingzombpossum]

Hahahahaha

My husband got shadow banned from Tumblr, what a loser.

I love you @plus2torocksmashing I hope you get better soon!

[frodothefair]

Attention all LOTR fans!

I believe myself to have been f-cked by the tumblr algorithm from the time of my blog's inception.

When I first started, just over a year ago, I made a "like or reblog this post if you like LOTR," to seek out people to follow, and to announce my presence.

I got notes in the very low double digits, whereas another LOTR blog that was also new at the time got HUNDREDS. Both of us barely had any content at the time.

I believe that tumblr users are simply not seeing my content due to something I did early on my blogging course. I don't believe myself to be under a shadow ban -- I think it's something else.

So prove me wrong, tumblr. If you see this post, please like or reblog if you are a LOTR blog, post about LOTR, or are simply interested in LOTR.

I am not necessarily looking for more followers. I just want to conduct an experiment to see if people are seeing my posts.

If I do not get a substantial amount of engagement on this post, I will simply delete my blog and start over. But I need to know if it's necessary before I pursue such a substantial undertaking.

[utterlyotterlyx]

In This Shirt

Azriel x Rhys!Sister!Reader

Summary - It had been a distant dream, to reunite with your mate, but you never believed you'd live long enough to experience it.

Warnings - angst, depression, trauma, swearing, fluff,

Like it had happened yesterday, Azriel could remember the moment he had found out that you, his beautiful perfect mate, and the Princess of Velaris, had been trapped Under The Mountain.

It had been Cassian who had told him, he was the only one strong enough to battle against Azriel's fury and be able to walk away from it. His eyes had been brimming with anguish but Azriel already knew, he felt that last rush of love flow through his body like a current before it vanished, leaving him cold and broken.

Cassian didn't even need to utter the words.

Y/N is gone. So is Rhys. They've been taken Under The Mountain. Amarantha has them.

Every day that passed made his world feel heavy, and dark. Azriel had forgotten the sound of your voice one day, and it had tore his heart straight from his chest. He knew that your voice was melodic, he often likened it to that of a sirens song, pretty and serene.

The fight to get to where you were, mated, married, was long and turbulent on its own. Rhys had refused to accept it, he was furious with Azriel for it. You were his youngest sister, the light of his life, and he knew Azriel would never hurt you, he had always doted on you, he never let you do anything by yourself, but your older brother had certainly struggled with the news.

Rhys had gone as far as to ban Azriel from being near you and sent you away to reside in the Day Court for a couple of months, truly believing that the distance would make you both see that a path together was not one to be walked. In actuality, the distance had almost killed you, the land spanning between you and your mate had settled so deep within your soul that you had become very ill.

Never wanting it to go so badly, but always feeling the need to protect you, Rhys saw the error of his ways and brought Azriel to you, and watched as you cried as the colour returned to your cheeks whilst Azriel held you in his arms.

From that moment on, Rhys had been your biggest supporter, and he had cried like a baby when he saw you in your wedding dress, telling you how much your mother and sister would have loved to see you looking so perfect.

The Light of Velaris had vanished that night, you and Rhys had both sacrificed yourself to Amarantha to protect your court, your home, and it was because of that fact alone that Azriel couldn't tear at the foundations of the fortress beneath the mountain to get you out.

It was rare to get a smile out of him, or anything notable really, but Cassian had been the one to find him that evening, when the stars were hurtling across the blank canvas of the night sky, crying on his knees in your shared bedroom. One of your dresses was furled between his fingers, his shadows coiled around the velvet of the skirt, breathing you in and wishing you were there with them, "I can't remember the sound of her voice," his voice was hoarse, like it was the first time he had spoken in years, which it had been, all he emitted were huffs and grunts, but no words.

Cassian had stepped into the room, the room that had become darker since you had left, just like the rest of the family home. Just like Velaris. Shirts and dresses were strewn about the room, some on the floor, some splayed across the bed, as if Azriel had sifted through your closet to find the thing that held the strongest scent of you, of nightfall and starlight, of the faint salted oceans and warm sand.

"Az," Cassian fell to his knees. pulling his brother into his side and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Azriel had let his wings drop to the floor, he didn't bother holding them up anymore. "It's going to be alright. She's strong, they both are, they'll come back. She'd never leave you forever, you have a bargain to fulfil."

Azriel glanced to the bargain inking his forearm, a symphony of shadow and stars, holding one another like lovers in the night.

Then your wings came.

Your beautiful wings of midnight purple, so dark in their hue that many would think they were black, with the thick onyx membrane that Azriel always used to run his fingers along and smirk at your shivers, were gone. Packaged up with a blood red bow and dropped onto the table.

Azriel couldn't think about it. All he could do was pray to the Mother that you had at least been unconscious as they were taken from you. Part of him expected Rhys' to follow, but then the stories came, stories of Amarantha's whore and his ill-tempered sister who fought so hard that she was rid of the only things that gave her identity as punishment.

The wings were drooped at the tips, curling inward from the pain and torture from being away from their mate for so long. Comparing wingspans was something you did often, you were small compared to Azriel, your wings even smaller, but they were incredible things. Azriel could have sworn on countless occasions that he saw them hum with light whenever you were overcome with love.

The fiftieth year of your absence had crept in, and Azriel had forgotten what your lips tasted like, how the felt against his. There was nothing he could do, nothing anyone could do to bring you home, to him, where you belonged.

Until someone did.

Loud cries awoke him that night, he sat upright, the shirt you usually wore to bed nestled against his chest, the ever-faint aroma of you clinging to it like the last snow before spring. Frowning, Azriel shifted from the bed. He knew that voice, he knew that low rumbling power, and when he looked out of the window, his heart stopped.

Rhys was on his knees, bundled up into Mor's arms as he cried, but Azriel couldn't listen, he couldn't listen to the pain in his brothers voice, he couldn't stop himself from bursting from the room and running down the staircase.

His mind was blinded by hope and love and the mere possibility that you might have made it back too, "Where is my wife?"

Rhys rose to his feet, looking around the space as if he would find you not standing too far away, and frowning when he saw that you had vanished, "She was just here," Azriel could have crumbled at the words.

She was just here.

You were back. You had come back to him.

Rhys went to speak again but Azriel was already gone, he scoured the house top to bottom, checking every room and hallway, he went to the library, hoping to see you curled up in your spot like you had never left and the last fifty years had been nothing but a putrid nightmare.

Azriel's heart ached, he reached deep within him, deep into a place he couldn't bring himself to graze, and tugged.

Once. Twice.

The gates opened.

Azriel saw the golden thread pour from his chest, he saw it hum like a pulse as it stretched out and slithered around the corner, and his shadows danced outward to meet it, to wrap around the golden threat leading him to you, peering backward as if telling him to go.

Your mate, your husband, followed that thread, he followed it up the staircase and down the halls, breezing past the portraits hanging on the wall until he stood before the closed door of the bedroom. Azriel reached out a hand that was trembling and twisted the doorknob, softly pushing it open to reveal you.

Weight had dropped from you, and your posture was shrouded with fear as it hunched inward, your hugged yourself as your head surveyed the space. Then he saw the scars, the marred flesh poking from the back of the dress that hung from your body, a humiliation to everything you stood for, and his eyes landed on the rings of scarred flesh around your wrists and ankles, some still angry and red and peeling.

What had she done to you?

Shuddering, you turned around, stopping in your tracks at the male in the doorway being kissed by the moonlight pouring in from the thin slits of the curtains.

He was as beautiful as you remembered, hazel eyes that you had dreamt of nightly to allow you to hold onto some hope, the sharp jaw and cheekbones that you imagined your fingers brushing against, his lips that would often call out to you, not like you remembered the sound of his voice.

"Az?"

His breathing hitched and became shaky, you knew he was doing his best to not be overcome with emotion, not when you had every reason to cry and fall apart, "Say it again."

A soft sob broke through your lips at the sound, so low and hoarse, raw, but still teeming with warmth and beauty, of brighter tomorrows.

Say it again.

"Az."

Even in the dark he could see your face crumple and contort, and he rushed to you as you weakly reached for him, not being able to stop the sobs pulling from his chest either.

It was all there. Nightfall. Starlight. Salted oceans. Warm beaches.

Azriel cupped your face in his hands, so delicately, like he was afraid to break you, and tears fell from his eyes. It was you. Glazed orbs of plum peered up at him, your fingers reached to brush his tears away, "Is this some beautiful nightmare?"

Air rushed from his lungs, your eyes were glazed over, almost as if you were in some sort of trance, "No, my angel," his voice was a hush above a whisper, his fingers caressed your cheeks, "This is real."

"I'm home?"

Realisation hit you and your eyes became clear, "You're home."

"I thought I was lost," you placed your hands on his arms, and he watched your tattoo dance in the moonlight, a twin to his own, "I knew I'd find you."

Azriel pulled you in close, he cradled your head against his chest and held you tighter as the weight of the last fifty years crushed you, "My wings," you cried and Azriel's wings pinned themselves backward, dipping themselves from sight, "She took them. How can you love me? How can you see me as anything other than weak?"

Lifting your head to meet his, Azriel's finger trailed the line of your jaw, "You are not weak, my love. Weakness would weep at the mere thought of being associated with you, for they will never get to know what it's like to have courage in the most awful of odds. It would never get to know you, because it is not a part of you and it never will be. I love you, y/n. I have always loved you and always will. I would love you in any form, in any life, in any universe. You are mine. You are my everything. You are the strongest thing I have ever encountered and the most beautiful thing to walk the heavens."

"You would not save your entire court, your family, and your husband, and go through everything you have been through, and lost what you have lost, if you weren't the strongest creature on this planet," Azriel's lips curled downward, uneven breaths fell from his lips, "I forgot the sound of your voice."

In the worst moments of your torture, all you thought of was Azriel and this moment, the moment where it would have all been worth it just to see him healthy and alive, "I forgot yours too."

Azriel sighed, he pressed his forehead against yours and took a moment to just inhale you, to let the ocean breeze pour into his soul and bring him back to life, "Can I hold you?"

Nodding softly, you felt Azriel pull away, he peeled that dress from your body and pulled one of his jumpers over your head. He led you gently over to the bed, placing you down on the side of the mattress which had forgotten the shape of you and pulled you into him.

"I'm sorry for what this has done to you."

It hadn't escaped your eye at all, the curls of onyx under his eyes, the droop of his wings, the worry that clung to him and haunted his every step. It may have been awful Under The Mountain, but you'd never want to be the one waiting for their love to come home. It would destroy you.

Azriel didn't say anything as his fingers raked over your scalp, loosening all the tension in your mind. The scent of cedar and night-kissed mountains flooded you and you nestled into that spot on his chest, reaching behind you to pull his wing over your side and smiling softly at the feeling of it. To have wings.

"I'm home," Azriel just held onto you tighter, moulding your body to the curves of his own, pressing kisses into your hairline and running his fingers through your hair.

Then your breathing fell soft, your eyes had drifted closed, and you looked peaceful, a soft smile lingered on your lips.

Azriel slept better than he ever had that night, knowing that you were back, that you had come home to him, and knowing that no matter where you walked, Azriel would always follow.

Author's Note

I love himmmmmmmm

[astarioffsimpmain]

Unsolicited Affections (Part 2)

[Far Left & Right Screenshots + Tav by @brabblesblog & Center Screenshot by Raz]

Halsin x Plus Size F!Reader

Warnings: Body insecurity; internalized fatphobia; Halsin is a sweetheart

Synopsis: Halsin's cure for your ailments isn't exactly what you expected, but you're not exactly upset about it.

Author's Note: Thank you again to Ban and Raz for the wonderful screenshots! This one is where we dig really deep, everybody. Settle in with your comfort items and prepare for some Halsitherapy. <3 I hope you all enjoy, and get ready for some spice in Part 3!

Part 1 Here | Part 3 Here

Your hands shook as you made your way toward Halsin's tent near the edge of camp. He had insisted on being the first line of defense from any unwelcome visitors as a way to repay you all for saving his grove from the shadow curse, and while at first you had argued, you stopped short after witnessing the earnestness in those beautiful green eyes. He wanted to do this. He wanted to protect you all. So you had relented, and had found it nearly impossible to say no to him since.

You clamped your hands together and steadied your breaths. "Gods, get it together. He's just going to check over your cuts and bruises like always." You reasoned, chastising yourself for even taking your vampiric friend's words into consideration. "I'm nothing more than a good Samaritan to him. He is being kind in response to my kindness, nothing more." You reminded yourself, doing your best to ignore the way your heart ached sharply at the admonition. You wanted to hope, but you couldn’t afford it. Wrenching your hands with one another, you stepped up to Halsin's tent and awaited his appearance. 

"There you are." His soothing voice rumbled in your ear after several disarming seconds of silence and you would have toppled over in surprise had a strong arm not wrapped firmly around your waist to steady you. The Druid pulled you against his front and you nearly lost all of the breath in your lungs to the feeling of being tucked against him. He was solid, 7 feet of muscle mass, beautifully encased by the soft ripple of tanned skin that pillowed ever so slightly to accommodate you being pressed against it. You had never been this close to him before and your mind blanked as your heart hammered painfully against your ribcage. 

"Yep, here I am." You managed to sound playfully flippant, unable to reveal your true feelings, despite how desperately you wanted to jump into his arms. "I really do think I'm alright, Halsin. Nothing more than a scrape here or a bruise there."

"Physically, you seem well for wear, but I sense something bothering you, and I'd like to help, if you'll allow me. So please, follow me. I believe I have just the remedy." He smiled down at you, at last releasing you from his hold, which sent confusing waves of both relief and disappointment coursing through you. 

"Well… alright. I'll see what you have in mind." You mused, shrugging your shoulders and missing the way his eyes glinted in the light pulsing from the plants around you. You fell into step beside him, giddy at the prospect of spending more time with him. You figured this was as close to the Druid as you would ever get, so you relished each moment you spent by his side. You tried not to think about what would happen in the future. If you didn't end up the product of a non-consented ceremorphosis, what then? Where would you go? You knew it was likely that you'd never see Halsin again; that he'd return to the Grove to resume his position as Archdruid and that you'd end up somewhere far away, working some tavern job to survive. Hollowness carved its way through your chest, more painful than any knife, and you suddenly had to take a steadying breath to keep up with your companion's long strides. 

‘Don’t think on it now,’ you chastised yourself silently, instead forcing a glance to the towering man beside you. He was relaxed, walking in a gate slow enough for you to keep up without much effort. A soft smile decorated his beautiful lips and his green eyes reflected the serenity of the darkness surrounding them. There was not much peace in the Underdark, but what little there was, you found with Halsin. Soon, the path he led you on tapered into a clearing of stone and rocks, and in the very center, a small lake. A gasp escaped your lips at the sight. It was beautiful. The water hummed with the glow of bioluminescent lichen from beneath the surface, growing in scattered mounds at the bottom of the body of water. From the surrounding rocks and the looming trees hung glowing moss, their effervescence bathing you and Halsin in a soft blue light. 

"Halsin, this is stunning." You breathed out quietly, taking in the scene before you. 

"It is, is it not? Even here in the Underdark, a form of nature prevails and finds a way to create beauty. It inspired me when I found it. I have checked the water many times over, and it is safe for submersion." He replied, looking across the lake with a sense of pride that he could only find in what was natural. Several more seconds of awe passed through you before the implications of his words connected in your mind. 

"Oh, uhm…" you sputtered, your mind beginning to reel away from the scene before you and into your own insecurities. 'Oh gods, he's talking about swimming! I can't just swim in my clothes; can I? Maybe I can. He can't see me bare! Hells, he'd never look at me again!' Your thoughts ran away with you and you stood there, unmoving and unresponsive, and Halsin took notice. 

"My heart, please be silent no longer. What is it that troubles you?" He coaxed softly, fingers trailing over your arm with a gentleness that should not be possible from a man his size. When you did not react, he reached forward with the same fingers and curved them under your chin, turning your head to face him. Your eyes met his, wide and afraid, and his other hand came up to cup your cheek, his fingers wrapping around the back of your head as he settled into the hold. 

"Oh-" was all you managed to mumble before Halsin's lips were on yours; tender, loving. 'Gods..' your mind was racing.

You practically moaned into his mouth when he abandoned your chin to wrap his arm around your back, pulling you flush against him, the hard planes of his body sending electric shockwaves through you at an alarming rate. All thoughts from moments ago had scattered and you were awash with a feeling more overwhelming than anything you could ever remember experiencing. You weren't sure how your arms had made it around the Druid's neck, or when he had hoisted you into his arms, but when you finally parted for air, your ankles were crossed behind Halsin's back and he stood ankle deep in the lake, holding you in a vice grip against him. His eyes locked with yours and the green of his irises was overshadowed by how large his pupils were blown, staring at you like he held the world in his arms. You were made breathless all over again and felt your cheeks warm. 

"I- gods… Halsin, I-" you sputtered, your words still not having returned to you quite yet. 

"I do hope I have not been careless, my heart." He said lowly, his voice betraying a hint of uncertainty. "If I have misconceived your heart, I deeply apologize."

"I- no! Halsin, I- it was incredible. It was… it was everything, I had no idea. I never thought you would feel that way about- about me." You shook your head in surprise, a breathless chuckle escaping you. "Of all people." You added, attempting to seem at least somewhat put together in front of this incredibly handsome man who had just kissed you senseless. 

A confused look passed across Halsin's features. "You speak as though you are disbelieving. You saved me. You saved my home, knowing I could do little to pay you back in return. You are incessantly kind to me, and understanding of my position, my condition-" He paused, his voice cracking with barely hidden emotion, and you reached a tentative hand to his cheek, brushing your fingertips across it gently in hopeful comfort. You let out a shaky exhale as he leaned almost desperately into your touch, his eyes having fallen closed. "You are a wonder, my heart. Nature could not possibly have made a more divine creature." 

Your heart swelled, and the thorny vines that had grown around it over time began to prick it painfully, letting it bleed into Halsin's. You sniffled as a tear escaped your eye and cascaded down your cheek, and green eyes met yours once more. It was time. He deserved to know. "I-" you took a deep breath, steadying yourself. "It seems so foolish now, in the face of everything you've said to me."

"If it troubles you this deeply, it cannot be foolish." He corrected you gently, and you nodded, another tear falling down your face. He kissed them away like it was the most natural solution in the world and you giggled; a strained, breathless thing, riddled with leftover pain, shock, and love - gods, so much love. 

You curled your fingers into his chestnut brown locks and fiddled with his braids while you sorted out the correct way to begin. Halsin waited on you patiently, stroking the undersides of your thighs with his thumbs as he continued to hold you far above the water below. "I have never been perceived as beautiful. The- uhm… well, the world has decided on an idea of what beautiful is, and I simply don't fit. I never have. No matter what I tried or how hard I tried it… I never became that ideal. I've come to accept, at this point, that I was never meant to be that. I have always and will always take up more space than most people. I will always have trouble finding clothes. I will always be more difficult to pick up and swing around. I will always be too large, in all the wrong ways." Tears were streaming from your eyes now, vehicles of the pain you carried deep in your heart running out to join the water around you. "I have always been told that someone will find beauty in me eventually, that someone will find me worthy of love, but there's a hesitancy in their eyes; a question in their gaze. 'Should I tell her this? Should I raise her hopes like this?' But even with all of their good intentions, I have only ever been ignored, or used and tossed away." 

A little sob escaped you and you clapped a hand over your mouth to quiet it, but lips pressed firmly against your knuckles and you blinked through your tears to look at the Druid. "Do not hide your pain from me, my heart. I wish to see all of you, to love all of you. I wish for you to know my heart as well as my body, and I want the same from you." Your hand returned to his shoulder and he nuzzled your nose with his own. "You should never have had to know such heartache. You shine brighter than any sun, and had they not already been blind, perhaps they would have seen that." He murmured the words you had been longing to hear all your life into your mouth like a prayer, and then he kissed you with such earnestness that you thought you would melt away and become a part of the lake beneath you. 

You cried through the kiss, your tears wetting Halsin's cheeks along with your own, but he only held you tighter, his fingers finding purchase in the dips your thighs readily made for his grip. When your lips parted, only far enough for air to play across them, Halsin murmured, his voice low, "Let us bathe together, my sweet." 

fin

Tag List, Darlings: @thoughts-of-bear @knightofmight01 @snumlik @tifaria @listen-to-navi @greycloudsy @tiedyedghoulette @halsinsilverbough @nightlyrayne @the-library-of-the-smut @brabblesblog

(if your name isn't highlighted/underlined, I wasn't able to tag you!)

[writteninlunarlight-years]

(Here are some funny little Headcanons I have about Alastor and his shadows. I want to disclose that I am doing this for myself. I have done no prior research for Alastor's Shadows; these are my thoughts and opinions. My friend @literallurker and I were talking one day about them, and this was born)

To start this all off, I firmly believe that Alastor's Shadows still have consciousness, and the one who is his actual Shadow is the one who has been with him the longest, so it knows how he truly feels.

As for the other Shadows, half of them come from his work with Voodoo magic, and the other half comes from the souls he owns.

Alastor can manipulate any shadow he wants if he tries. Though, yes, he is the 'Radio Demon,' he is shown to have a lot of control over the shadows.

I would 100% not be surprised if he used his shadow manipulation to put on little puppet shows with the shadows of souls he owns. I am talking about Broadway productions cause you know the man has old Jazz classics playing in the background.

I honestly believe that Alastor's main Shadow, aka the one that has been with him his whole existence, has a name. Now, the name of this Shadow varies depending on who you ask. However, Charlie named it "Shadowy" one day, and everyone stuck with it since the Shadow enjoyed it and Alastor hated it.

'Shadowy' personally also loves to fuck with Alastor on a whole new level because there are no repercussions for him. So what, he gets banned from leaving Alastors natural light Shadow? So what. He would just unban himself the minute Alstor was busy doing something else.

Because 'Shadowy' is so close to Alsator and knows all his darkest thoughts, emotions, and secrets, he likes to tease the other guests just as much as Al.

Imagine Husk just minding his business, and then 'Shadowy' pops up with some cards and a poker face. He is ready to play some games, only for Alastor to feel this mutiny and ruin the game midway.

'Shadowy' is also super affectionate to Alastor's friends; Rosie knows all his hand signals and how he 'speaks.' Anytime she knows more than what Alastor is, letting her know it's because the Shadow told her.

As for love interests, I also believe 'Shadowy' is extra affectionate with Alastor's partner. Al is still very touch-sensitive, so there could be many times when the partner feels ignored, so 'Shadowy' swoops in to help show how much they are loved.

This can also lead to Alastor being more affectionate with the lover because he feels terrible that his Shadow is one-upping him.

Knowing 'Shadowy' is as close to himself as possible, Alastor will often tell the Shadow to hide in his partner's Shadow to protect them and tell him what is going on in their lives.

On a slightly more suggestive note, I firmly believe that if Alastor isn't caring for his partner's needs, the Shadow will 100% step in.

After the first time, the Shadow does this, and if the partner enjoys it a lot, Alastor will allow the Shadow to join more.

[brailsthesmolgurl]

Salvation

In another parallel universe, the legend was retold. The God of Sea and his bride has A heart so great that it holds the power to bring Lemuria back to its olden days glory. The bride however, is untouchable. If so, who is going to be salvaged?

Here comes the parallel universe ending! I know it was long awaited, but thank you for waiting patiently as all of my written stories are planned meticulously hence it takes up a LOT of time.

Read the start of this series: Damnation

Read the sequel of the Damnation: Retribution

Warnings: Angst, Spoilers for Rafayel Lore, Character Deaths, Gore and Blood (tbh its a common theme for this series already). A little bitty suggestive heh cause my hormones are raging for this man. Smol surprise at the end :)

"Tomorrow marks the day." Rafayel's slender fingers ran through y/n's curls, a smile slowly stretched across her lips, her cheeks evidently turning rubescent under the moonlight's sheen. "Tomorrow is the day I shall bring you to visit Lemuria." The purple haired god laid next to his soon-to-be bride, on her bed, in her chambers. The thing he could do to her right here and right now were endless. And none of them involved any items of clothing. That was how much the young god was holding himself back.

The smile on her face never faded, as her small hands reached up to cup both sides of his cheeks, his face warm and soft to her touch. "I can't wait. Hearing all of those stories from you, no pictures nor drawings could possibly compare to the reality of seeing your kingdom with my own eyes." She said, eyeing Rafayel glistening under the moonlight, the shadow on his face does not cover up his ethereal looks. Rafayel leaned in closer to her, his breath mingled against her cheeks. "You know we should not kiss until tomorrow, right?"

Her reminder of the pre-wedding taboo made him grunted, his lips formed an immediate pout and he threw his head back, clearly frustrated. "I should be the one to ban such traditions next time." He grumbled, but calmed down to look at her when her hands cupped his cheeks again, thumbs smoothing over his chiselled jawline. "How could one possibly live with not kissing their bride the day before their wedding?"

His childlike remark made her giggled. "Your people had done it for ages, and I figured it would only be right if we were to go along with such customs. As I shall be the first mortal bride afterall. I do not wish to upset any of your merfolks." She raised her hand up, surrendering herself and Rafayel leaned forward to hug her tight within his arms. Laughters erupted from the both of them.

When they looked into each other's eyes, their laughters slowed down, mesmerised by one another's gaze. Y/n could barely believe that this very moment is happening to her. It felt like yesterday when she had rescued Rafayel from the sandy shores and released him back into the ocean after he had promised to return to her some day. Now, here they are, awaiting for a grand wedding tomorrow, an official bond to be tied between the God of the Sea and his mortal bride.

The once cherubic looking Rafayel had grown into the dashing young god he is today. With misty purple locks that are naturally wavy---although he constantly claimed that it was the sea water that turned it wavy. Eye colour a mixture of lilac purple and lapis blue, that could change colour depending on the lighting and his mood. A personality that not many can and would want to handle given his nonchalant-ness. Mixing in good looks and his non-chalant attitude, he is like walking trouble amongst mortals.

But she knew Rafayel better than anyone. She knows the way he talks, although condescending to some, she knows that he is not just a talker, but also a doer. He nags her over the smallest of things, be it her dress colour not matching her lip colour for the day or whatnot; she knows that he cares for everything, even for the smallest of details. He yaps like he knows what he wants and gives off the vibe of an independent individual, but deep down, he is just a needy young man, seeking for her constant comfort, validation, love and affection.

These are just some of the small characteristics of Rafayel that made her fall for him even more. She watched as Rafayel inched in, his lips aligned with hers. But before she got to utter a word, he quickly moved his lip upwards and pressed a big kiss onto her forehead. "If I could not kiss your lips, I would just have to settle for kisses on your forehead and cheeks then." He teased her and continued barraging her face with kisses. Their laughters for the night were endless.

Rafayel sat at the edge of her window sill, turning around to watch her as she was fast asleep, her brunette hair messily tousled all over the bed, but she looked picturesque, with the silvery moonlight painted across parts of her face and the steady breathing of her chest made her a living art in Rafayel's eyes. "I shall see you later, my beloved bride." Not wanting to wake her in her slumber, he dived into the water below.

...

"Your highness! Stop running so quickly!" The maid, Natasha cried out, struggling to keep up with the bride's quick feet. "Your dress might get dirty and unkempt! And I did not receive any other gowns from them!" Sadly, the maid was the only one who gave her blessing to y/n's marriage. The king and queen could care less as long as Rafayel kept their pockets loaded with gold.

"Come on Natasha, lessen the apprehension, would you?" The bride slowed down her footsteps and turned to flash her maid a wide smile. "Today is a big day after all and I know, everything is going to be alright." Seeing the bride's grin, Natasha sighed in defeat and trotted behind the bride, exhausted but still anticipating to watch the union ceremony.

When they arrived near the sea stacks, Natasha handed her a red velvet box. Upon opening the latch, the box opened to reveal a veil, one woven from silk that could only be harvested from sea anemones that grow in the far West, the ones that only glow during the winter times. The veil was translucent, with an iridescence of silver glow whenever the light refracted off of its material. The crown that goes around her head is made out of pearls that were harvested from oysters that could only be found in the southern region of the seas. Collected and crushed by the merfolks and infused with a rare blue gem that only Lemurians possessed to create the crown for the veil.

The veil shorts of nothing extravagant, as expected of the God of Sea's taste. Rafayel ensured that this veil was done 6 months prior to the wedding as he does not appreciate any mishaps especially when it is related to his bride. Y/n took the veil out of the box and she carefully placed it on top of her head, Natasha going behind her to dust off the excess sand off of the back of the wedding gown. She also took the time to adjust the veil behind y/n's head, wanting to make sure everything is in place before the ceremony begins.

"It has to be perfect. Perfect." She remembered the way Rafayel nodded his head towards her, spelling the word PERFECT to her just so she could understand him. But Natasha caught him the moment he said the first sentence. Although she just waved him off that time, she knew that on the day of the wedding, Rafayel is the last person she would want to upset. Who knows what would happen to her if she made him upset. The thought itself sent a shudder down her spine.

"How do I look?" Y/n turned to face Natasha and the maid's heartwarming gaze gave her just the answer she needed to hear indirectly. "I can't wait for this Natasha." She held onto the maid's hands tightly. Horns started blaring loudly and the two women looked towards the sea stacks together. The sun rise made the sea blended in with the sands on the shore, the saturated warm glow casted upon the surface of the waters a sight to behold indeed.

Trumpets and choirs joined in with the blaring of the horns and y/n knew it was time for her to present herself walking towards the sea stacks. "Your Highness, your bouquet. Don't forget it." The maid shoved a bouquet of flame lilies and the bride muttered a thanks, hastily holding onto the bouquet before she stepped out from the backs of the huge rock.

The appearance of the bride made the merfolks gasped in awe, the off-shoulder wedding dress was made out of fine silk, and it did a great job in outlining her bodyline and curves perfectly. Her dress cut off at the mid of her thighs, but a big ribbon was attached to her right hip, aiding in the aesthetic and transitional fabric from fine silk to a chiffon tail. The tail of the dress was completely see through, with droplets of diamonds sewn on it. The bride glowed under the ray of the sun and nobody could have dreamed of a better start to a wedding.

Rafayel emerged from the waters, in his mundane form of course, riding on top of two orcas and he was delivered right onto the top of the sea stacks. His clumsy stumble made her giggled, hands going up to cover her mouth. Rafayel donned a full white suit, with a swallow tail at the back of his tuxedo, his hair neatly styled, probably with the help of his people. And the left side of his pocket peeked a corsage with flame lilies, same as the ones she has as a bouquet in her hands.

Upon seeing his bride, Rafayel was enthralled at her beauty, his jaw dropping slightly ajar before one of the merman spit water at him thus he only managed to snap himself back to reality, glaring at the merman who spat at him as he reached up to wipe the stain off of his sleeves. Not like the water did anything to his outfit either, but he had to be sure of it. It is their big day after all.

"Ain't this my bride." Rafayel said confidently when he walked to the edge of the sea stacks, reaching out his hand to her, for her to take so he could guide her onto the sea stacks. "Careful, I do not wish for my bride to be unable to walk before the grand night tonight, yeah?" His wink made her face flushed instantly and she smacked his arm playfully.

Standing next to him, she felt like everything was set in stone for her finally. She got to marry the one that she had always been in love with and she will be one of the very first mortals to visit this forbidden land under the waters. "Here, we rejoice in each other's company. One of merfolk and the other of mortal." Amund, Rafayel's trusty friend took the opportunity to solemnize the wedding.

"This moment shall mark the first of its kind in mortal and merfolk's history. A reunion to be witnessed between the God of the Sea, Rafayel, and his bride, a mortal. y/n. Shall there be any objections towards this blessed reunion..." Amund trailed off, eyes scanning the crowd, both in the waters and the only human on land before he continued. "You shall not be entertained." His sentence took everyone by surprise and everyone shared an understanding laughter. "Hence, Rafayel, would you take y/n to be your beloved wife? Through all suffrage, illness and happiness?"

Rafayel nodded, facing her and confidently saying. "I will always say yes to that. For I will love you for ages to come."

"How about you y/n, would you accept the God of the Sea, Rafayel's intentions of having to love you through all?" You immediately nodded and Amund shouted. "This reunion is blessed, you may kiss the bride!" Rafayel's lip immediately pressed against his bride's, the kiss shared between the two erupted a huge reaction from the crowd. Claps and whistlings and shoutings could be heard from all directions. The choir then resumed its melody when Rafayel pulled back from her lips. "Y/N?" His smile faltered as he watched his bride's irises had turned into a shade of blood red, matching the same colour of the liquid that was oozing out of his chest, staining his white suit into crimson red.

...

Y/N jolted awake in her own bed, beads of sweat littered all across her face. Running her palms across her face, surprised that her face is cold to her touch despite the current season is far from winter. Reaching over to her bedside drawer, she fetched her goblet and drank the contents of it.

A couple of knocks could be heard from her oak door. "Come in." The door slowly opened to reveal one of the maids, Clarrice. The red head walked in, silver tray in her hand, ready to be served to the princess. She bowed partially as a sign of respect, then placed the tray by the highness' study table before she walked over to pull open the heavy drapes of the curtains to reveal the warm sun rays shining in from the windows.

"It seems like your highness has chosen to sleep in today, hence I had drawn your curtains whilst you were in deep slumber." Clarrice smiled, her pink thin lips a contrast to her pale complexion, brown freckles strewn like constellations on her face. Y/N sat on the bed, eyebrows knitted together, not being able to figure out why Natasha is not greeting her as per usual. Given Natasha was the maid that was specifically assigned to care for the princess.

"Have you seen Natasha anywhere?" The princess questioned, taking another sip out of the goblet in her hand. Milk cold to the inside of her mouth, when the princess had always been accustomed to warm milk in the morning.

"Your highness, Natasha was nowhere to be found within her chambers at dawn." When the maid replied, she watched the princess' eyes narrowed and nervously added on. "It seems like Natasha had left the palace in a hurry. All of her items remained within her chambers, including her uniform. All that was missing was her common outfit. She could have left for the farmers market?" The hesitation in the maid's tone does not sit right with y/n.

"You may head on with your day now. Thank you." The princess spoke promptly and the maid hurried out of the chambers. Placing the goblet back onto the bedside drawer, y/n started retracing the dream she had earlier on. All she remembered from her memory was her being at a beach...the beach near the sea stacks!

The princess catapulted herself off of the bed, still in her outfit. Her outfit. She did not noticed the outfit she had on while she was in bed. She is wearing a gown. Specifically a fancy one, one would wear for a wedding. Wedding ceremony. Natasha. Rafayel. When the pieces started to piece together, so did her heart rate quickened. Raising her hands to her vision, she caught sight of splatters of crusted liquid on her palms, a brownish shade with specks of what seems to be blue fairy dust.

Realisation hit her with a truck and she grabbed the rope and tossed it out of her window, sliding down it as fast her hands would allow her to, the pain of the rope burn unregistered into her senses. Guards at this hour were most likely deployed to their stations within the towers hence allowing her escape all the more easier. Once her feet touched the ground, she ran with her bare feet and went out through the gardens behind the palace that leads her straight towards the seas.

Her bare feet carried her past the sandy shores, the strong currents of the sea breeze accompanying her speed. Coming across the huge rock that leads towards the sea stacks, she slowed down her footsteps, seeing bloody imprints on the sand, foot prints that belong to a human.

When she came to the sea stacks, the scene in front of her made her heart stopped beating for a good while. There laid Natasha, on the shore, with a pool of red replacing her shadow. Some parts of her blood on the shore were darkened, a natural occurrence of oxidation of the bodily fluids. The princess screamed for her maid, her friend, and ran towards her, tears uncontrollably rushed down her cheeks. She turned the maid over, only to find the young maiden was covered in stab wounds all across her torso. "Who did this to you?!" She shouted in agony, pulling the deceased into her arms as she cried, while cradling her friend.

"Y/N...." A voice cut through her cries and the nightmare does not end. "Y/N..." Just when she thought she had to suffer losing Natasha, she was met with the image of the God of the Sea, her beloved husband, her forever lover, laid on the sea stacks, blood emitting from the side of his mouth, his eyes losing their usual glow as he tried to call out to her. "RAFAYEL!" The princess cried, laying her friend down carefully onto the sand before she rushed over to Rafayel's side, stumbling her way up the sea stacks and having barnacles cutting into her skin. Yet again, her physical pain were not registered to her senses as of this moment. "RAFAYEL!" Her cries were unstoppable now, eyes turning bloodshot as she pulled her lover into her arms. "What happened?! I will go and get help..."

As she wanted to stand up to leave, Rafayel grabbed ahold of her hand and she regained the memory of the actual cause behind the happening.

...

The vision was murky but she could clearly hear a conversation taken place between two individuals. It seemed to take place within a cave, a female figure, with a singular eel-like tail and a merman, were having a talk. "If she remains untouchable, your kind shall perish." The feminine voice spoke, long, crooked fingers holding onto a round, translucent ball with spikes on it. She seemed to be studying the ball as she spoke. "Eradicating either one might be beneficial for you, as long as the heart is willing to be given."

"Does this mean I have to kill off the God? With my own hands?" The merman spoke, hesitation laced in his voice.

"Do not fret." The woman chanted a spell and a blue pearl appeared within her fingertips. "The mighty gem of Lemurians right? Infuse this with the crown that you would be making for her and the spell shall happen upon their kiss of rejoice, as husband and wife." She handed the blue pearl to the merman and added. "At least now, you won't get your hands dirty."

The merman kept the pearl in his pouch then placed a huge woven basket in front of the woman, a compensation of sorts for her 'service'. The merman turned to exit the caves and y/n gasped when she realised that the merman was Amund.

Her vision then flashed forward towards the moment when she wore the veil. Upon kissing Rafayel, she immediately got possesed by an unknown force, but an entity of evil origins. A dagger was summoned into her hands out of thin air and she stabbed Rafayel right in the heart with it. Y/n screamed out, but her voice was muted, playing the role of a bystander as the vision continued unfolding itself. The God of the Sea was taken aback as he had never thought he would be killed by his very own sworn lover.

His eyes looked into hers. Pupils blown out of the usual proportion before he spat out blood, splatters of it hitting her wedding gown and her face, but the possessed bride was unfazed. Merfolks were horrified as they hurriedly scattered into the seas. For an entity so evil that dares to challenge the God of the Sea, the merfolks know that they are powerless against this possessed individual, be it a mundane. So they chose to flee, hoping that the warrior amongst them, the longest friend of Rafayel's, would come to the rescue.

But Amund just stood by the shore, now in his human form, as he watched the blatant massacre happening right in front of him. A small smirk creeped up onto his face when he knew right then and there, the future of his people are secured. The foregone of a God shall mean one or two of the foretold endings. The princess willingly sacrifices herself to save Lemuria as she knew how much Lemurians mean to Rafayel. Or Amund shall dig the heart out of her if she chooses to be selfish. All with the end goal of him being viewed as the hero, salvaging Lemuria from its end days.

...

The vision ended, with y/n in shock, eyes staring blankly at Rafayel's body in her arms. The God of Sea finally letting his tears run astray, flowing down his cold and blanched face when his bride slowly came to her own realisation. The young god had once told his bride about the specialty of her heart, for he had given half of his heart to her when they made a promise during their first meet.

That moment, Rafayel summmoned a small blue fish within his palms, stating that blue fishes are emissaries of the sea, but he lied partially, knowing the moment she wanted to release him back into the ocean, he had fell in love with her and was sure that she will be the one. Hence, a bonding vow was made without her knowledge, and part of his heart was given to her as a contribution of his love.

The princess turned out to be the bait, the bait to kill Rafayel when he least expected it, just so Amund could gain the heart of either the God or the bride and to return glory to Lemuria. But Rafayel, although wanted to marry a mundane, had never once thought of abandoning his kind. His plan was to bring her to live with him within Lemuria, and with both of their hearts within the vicinity of one another, it could restore glory to Lemuria and no bloodshed would take place. And obviously, this plan was only known to the God of Sea himself. As a God only does what is best for his people and his actions shall reap what he sows.

"Im sorry!" Y/N's lips are only wired to speak these two words, body shaking and voice hoarse, mentally and physically pained, watching the dying God in front of her eyes. "I can't do this without you, Rafayel." Her hands cupped his cheeks, his blood painting her palms in red. "Please don't leave me..." She continued begging. "I could never forgive myself...Please don't go...."

"I am here...I will always be here..." The bride's cries would not stop, eyes avoiding his as she knew that he was stating the opposite of what he actually meant. Until her eyes landed on the dagger that was laid beside Rafayel. The same dagger that she had used to stab Rafayel in his heart, and the same dagger that Amund had used to kill Natasha as to eliminate any witnesses. Rafayel's eyes caught on eventually, but with him on the verge of death, he was physically unable to stop her.

He watched his bride, with eyes widened in terror while choking onto his own blood, trying to form words. "I love you." Were her last words before she stabbed herself with the dagger, right into her chest as well, where his and her heart lies. What comes afterwards was her choking and simultaneously spitting blood right out of her mouth, a sign of her haemorrhaging.

If nobody could take his heart, she shall not give up hers as well. A smile of relieve dawned on her face, the rosiness of her cheeks gradually fading as crimson tears replaced the redness of her cheeks. For she is a mundane, she could not hold on any longer like how Rafayel did, as it takes a while for a God to be fully bled dry.

Her whole body fell limply, like a puppet torn from its strings, and her face landed right in front of Rafayel, forehead touching his. The last breath the God of Sea took, was surrounded by the sounds of the clashing waves, basked within the warmth of the sunrise, his lifeless eyes stayed open, tear streaks are the only colours apparent on his pale face, just like his bride's.

...

Hundreds of years had passed. Linkon city's renowned museum held a grand exhibition, displaying all there is for one to know about the hidden city Lemuria, and its people, Lemurians. The exhibition featured paintings, artworks, artifacts and even 'theoretically-accurate' skeletal structures of the Lemurians. As this exhibition, does run on nothing factual but relying heavily on theories and legends arising from sea explorers.

Y/n held an information pamphlet in her hand, browsing the exhibition before she stopped at one of the large paintings with the title 'God of the Sea'. The painting featured a merman, a tail with two fins for the bottom half of his torso, while the upper is made of a man. Her eyes glanced over at the God of the Sea's face, a fish head that looked all too similar to a sardine fish.

"Don't you think this artwork is suspicious?" A voice travelled from beside her, the tone of the sentence laced with disgust. "In fact, I think this whole exhibition is a total scam." Y/n turned her head to face the source of the voice. A towering young man stood next to her, wearing a white V-neckline shirt and paired with a pair of black slacks and black dress shoes, his midriff secured with a wide belt. "What do you say?" He turned his head to face her, his dusky purple hair matching the shade of his purplish-pinkish-bluish eyes. A smile evidently plastered on his handsome features.

"Who are you to say that?" Y/n crossed her arms across her chest, raising her eyebrows.

"The name's Rafayel." He confidently spoke, eyes glinting with amusement. "Anyways, mind grabbing a cup of coffee with me?"

... DUN DUN DUN!

And this shall officially mark the end for the pain! The story although still had mentions of angst and still caused some evident damage to your hearts, but I made sure I shall give you guys a good ending okay! Do not confuse this timeline with Damnation and Retribution as those are coexisting with this current timeline. SO yes! If you paid enough attention the details, the sea stacks... the sea witch blah blah..... IT IS ALL INDIRECTLY CONNECTED (depending on how you piece it based on your understanding). But yes, my story is written in this specific manner because I purposely wanted the worlds to be connected!

I really really hope you guys had enjoyed this series as I shall be writing more series as such in the future, either with Zayne or Xavier so please stay tuned for that!

If you could, drop me comments on what you think about this story as well! Even if it hurts you, makes you wanna smack yourself (pls dont do that), or whether it leaves you unfazed, I am nosy and I wanna know how this series has affected you mentally! Check out my other works as well on my page!

Wardrobe Malfunction ft LNDS boys

You forgetting a date with the boys *gasps in horror*!

Thank you for reading this series of mine. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCHIES, MUACKS <3

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Jail Time

JK Rowling: hello children Rowling: you know if labor takess over, they're going to force you to ressspect transss people? Barker: didn't keir starmer just literally throw them under the bus Rowling: Rowling: shut up Rowling: sstop ruining thiss for me!

Rowling: asss i wass sssaying Rowling: itss been reported in the reputable presssss Rowling: that labor isss totally going to do this Rowling: and who are you going to believe? Rowling: ssensssationalissst british tabloidsss or your lyin' eyesss?

Rowling: let me tell you Rowling: if they try to make me resspect a transss perssson Rowling: i would rather go to jail! Rowling: i will go to my execution assss if it wasss my wedding!! Rowling: i am a fearless truth teller!!!!

Rowling: i will go to jail! Rowling: i'll enjoy it! it'll be fun! Rowling: i'll work in the prissson library! Rowling: maybe ferment sssome ketchup behind a radiator! Rowling: maybe get real in the exercise yard Rowling: and a big sswasstika prissson faccce tat

Rowling: they're going to sssend me to prissson!! for misgendering!!! thisss isss going to happen! Mark my wordsss! Rowling: alsssso antifa issss going to murder all the sssmall busssinessss owners tomorrow, i read it on the internet

Rowling: watch, you'll be cowed by my sssolemn and dignified bearing assss they lead me to the gallowsss Rowling: jusst you watch! Poe: King: Koontz: Lovecraft: Barker: Barker: why do you come here anyway Rowling: I HAVE A SSSTOKER!!! I HAVE THE RIGHT!

Rowling: wow, the left hass finally lossst me! [turning a big dial that says "fascism" while looking over her shoulder at the audience for approval]

Barker: like seriously where are you getting this Rowling: i get all my newsss on the transss menace from the mosssst reputable sssource Rowling: the sssinfest webcomic Elon Musk: [rising from bushes] eeeey did someone-a say sinfest?

Musk: itsa me, Elon Musk! Musk: i love-a da sinfest! mama mia! itsa like-a mama's marinara [chef's kiss] Musk: i justa get backa from shadow banning da account data make-a funna da sinfest Musk: itta too cutting and incisive!   Musk: it musta be destroyed!

Musk: eeeeey jk rowling Musk: we hava so much in common Musk: we shoulda hang out Rowling: what do we have in common? Musk: well-a Musk: i da richest man in the world, you da richest woman Musk: we botha hate da jews and trans Musk: anna we botha very divorced!

Rowling: hmmm Rowling: how do you feel about free ssspeech Musk: i thinka people shoulda be free to praise me! Rowling: oh my god Rowling: we're like two peasss in a pod!

[littlest-w01f]

Flight

Azriel x Reader

AZRIEL MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Azriel the usually confident male confesses his feelings for his closest friend

CW: Fluff, wing clipping, fluff

Azriel couldn't believe himself, not when it came to you. How could he have females swoon over just a word from him but could not put what he felt for you each time he looked at you.

The way he smiled at you when you weren't looking, the way he blushed whenever his shadows refused to listen to him and stayed in your hair. It seemed they felt for you precisely what he did, after all, they were an extension of him. He couldn't let go of the feeling of butterflies in his stomach whenever you smiled at him. He had to talk to you, to tell you about how you made him feel. You were one of his closest friends for Couldren's sake.

You stood outside in the balcony of the House of Winds, your Illyrian wings were scared, your family was cureler to their females than usual, you had your wings main membrain, having to carry their weight while the thinner membrains were ripped out, making them useless.

You smiled at the night sky, you always enjoyed being that the House of Winds, you could see the night sky clearer from the hight of the home, the stars always seemed closer like this, as if you could still fly.

"y/n?" You hear Azriel call out when you turn to look at him, his shadows rush to you, playing with your hair drawing a chuckle from you, "How are you feeling?"

You frown slightly at him, "I'm alright, why do you ask?"

"I just..." Azriel came to stand next to you, smiling as his shadows nuzzled into your cheeks. "You looked all sad and melancholy, so I... I wanted to make sure everything was alright."

"I'm not sad," You smile at him, and turn to look back at the sky, "Well, not anymore atleast."

It had only been a few years since you had lost your wings, your wings were a price their inner circle had to pay after Rhysand became High Lord and gave the first command to ban clipping Illyrian females, you were kidnapped while you were in Windhaven with Cassian, a note insulting Rhysand's law in your bed, and in a day of Cassian and Azriel searching for you, they had received the thin membranes of your wings delivered to Rhysand's mother's house.

Azriel had found you soon after that, you were passed out chained up in a small cave of an Illyrian mountain, your father's and brothers's blood coating him as he had gently unchained your wrists and placed your cloak to cover you, his scared hands trembling as his tears feel to your limp body covered in tiny cuts and bruises, his shadows crazed at the thought of you hurt, trying to soothe your cuts with their cool touch.

Things were quiet, Azriel simply watched you admire the sky, he looked over your face as if memorising every inch of you, he opened his mouth to speak but closed it instantly.

The shadows he had on him whispered in his shoulder when his eyes lit up. "Do you want to go flying?"

"I can't...?" You offer a little confused, moving your wings slightly to prove it.

Azriel's eyes go a little wide and a blush forms on his cheeks, "Oh, I meant, flying with me... I can carry you."

You look at him for a second with a smile stretched across your lips, "You'd take me flying for fun?" The only time you had flown was with the help of Cassian and Rhysand to bring you up and down the House of Winds, they had quite politely put it that Azriel 'did not like passengers'.

"Yeah. I will take you if you want to," Azriel's heart was hammering, matching the speed of yours as you nodded and stepped closer to him. He stretched his wings as he took your hand, wrapping one arm around your waist, his shadows played with your cheeks, hiding in your hair, the two of you froze when Azriel wrapped his arms around you completely, a second in that closeness, a golden thread connected you to him.

Azriel smiled like a faeling with a crush, shooting up to the sky, making you chuckle and wrap your arms around his neck, you smiled wide, seeing the stars at the closeness, the familiar one as Azriel kept going higher, having you both in mid-air he spoke.

"How I wished there was a bond for us, my love." Azriel breathed out, spinning both of you around in the air, his hand joining his shadows over your cheeks, you were still dazzled at the feel of the mating bond forming, "So that there will be something to explain why I feel for you as strongly as I do."

"How I looked up at the same stars you look at and hoped that if I couldn't be bold enough to ask you to be mine, something would align in my favour." Azriel smiled at you while floating, his tone different than you had ever heard, softer, gentler.

"I like you too, Az." You whispered softly, your arms holding tight to not fall into the sidra. As you looked at him, you realised that you had never been this close to him before.

Azriel smiled, releasing a loud sigh, "I'm glad, otherwise my ten step first date I have planned for us with all of your favourite things to do might have made me look like an idiot."

"I... I would like that." You beamed up at him. Your heart beating like a hummingbird's, "To... To go on a date with you."

"And," Azriel looked a little nervous, "If you still like me by the end of it, maybe we could be something more than friends?"

You nod happily, "Yes. Yes, I'd loved that."

He pulled you in for a soft kiss, a laugh leaving you after you pulled back, "My mate," Azriel smiled after the kiss, the shadows that wrapped themselves around his hand and your face seemed to growl.

"Fine," Azriel rolled his eyes making you snort softly, "Our mate." He corrected before pulling you back in a kiss. His shadows content on your body, pushing your body close to his, enveloping you both in their enclosed darkness.

{Azriel Masterlist: @fxckmiup}

[sflow-er]

It's Eurovision week, and for the first time in over twenty years, I won't be watching or engaging.

As you probably know, the global BDS (Boycott, Divest, Sanction) movement has called for a total Eurovision boycott due to the EBU's refusal to ban Israel.

The ESC has been a beloved part of my spring since I was little, and it's really fucking upsetting not getting to enjoy it this year - but that's just it. I know it won't make any difference whether one person chooses to watch or boycott, and that my watching it wouldn't even be registered as a view if I just watched the TV broadcast instead of the stream, but I can't imagine any set of circumstances in which I would enjoy it.

Back when the contest was held in Tel Aviv, I "bought myself a license to enjoy it" by donating to the UNRWA multiple times what I would've normally spent on voting, but no amount of donations would be enough to do that now. Not when every artist will be styled using the products of an Israeli beauty brand (Moroccanoil, a major ESC sponsor and likely a major player in why the EBU wouldn't even consider a ban), and when Israel itself has made its participation a political statement. The only reason their public broadcaster KAN agreed to change the lyrics of their entry, which originally referenced the Hamas attack and is still was called "October Rain" but has now been renamed "Hurricane", was this:

The president [of Israel] emphasised that at this time in particular, when those who hate us seek to push aside and boycott the state of Israel from every stage, Israel must sound its voice with pride and its head high and raise its flag in every world forum, especially this year. (The Guardian, 07 March)

Singer Eden Golan has also said that she believes her "participation is part of a very important mission for the country" and that she expects to begin her compulsory military service soon after the contest:

I still haven't enlisted in the army, and when I return from Eurovision, I'll report for my first call-up. In the first year as a returning resident, they don't call you, but that year passed and I was summoned – and my draft was postponed because of Eurovision. Doing army service is a mission, and I want to take the auditions to the military bands. (Israel Hayom, 22 April)

Yes, really. It's more likely she'll be some kind of PR ambassador for the Israeli army than be sent to Gaza with a gun, but still.

Many people are also upset about Palestinian flags being banned from the arena, and I'm not happy about it either, but I do think it's more or less understandable. The arena is a closed space, and any kind of altercation that might be sparked by those flags would be a big security risk. And at least if we are to believe executive supervisor Martin Österdahl, they haven't actually changed the rules; signs and flags with political messaging were always banned, and in this time, the Palestinian flag does send a powerful political message.

Then there's also the security risk associated with the event itself. Malmö is one of Sweden's most diverse cities, which also has both Jewish and Palestinian communities. According to a survey published on 4 May, 47% of city residents intend to avoid crowds during Eurovision. Mass protests and counter protests are expected. Events such as Quran-burnings by right-wing extremists are still allowed in the name of freedom of expression, even though the terror threat level in Sweden had to be raised to 4 out of the maximum 5 last year/this past winter due to precisely these kinds of provocations, and tensions will be running high. So even if the event itself manages to look as glitzy as always on TV, it will still be shadowed by what might be happening outside. Will there be unrest? Violence? How will the police respond?

There's no enjoyment to be found in any of that, no being "united by music" (the ESC slogan, which is a joke at this point). At least for me.

That being said, I do not judge you if you plan on watching. I understand that it's a huge annual tradition for many of us, and in these times, we need all the joy we can get. I also understand that it can feel like empty virtue signalling to boycott something when millions of others will tune in regardless - although it is good to keep in mind that this isn't some silly boycott started by social media activists on Xitter. It's a serious effort by the BDS movement.

I would challenge you to think about how you engage, though. If possible, watch it on TV instead of on stream, so your view won't be logged. (You could even consider waiting until the show gets posted on Youtube instead of giving views to the official stream, but I get that you probably want to see it live.) Try to abstain from hyping the contest or your fave entries on social media, and also from voting. Consider donating what you can afford to a charity that provides aid to Gaza instead (here's one list I found with a quick search).

And finally, spread awareness of the flip side. Don't be lulled into complacency by the claims of "Eurovision isn't political" when Israel itself has made it very clear it is - and do not make fun of people who want to sit the contest out this year or belittle their efforts.

[ladylaviniya]

The Dog Days Are Over

MasterList || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: You were destined to be another Alpha in your family...so why does the test say you're an Omega?

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Omegaverse, A/B/O, age-gap, vaginal medical examination, inspired by the tragedy and abuse of the Trouble Teen Industries in America.

Pairing: Alpha!Henry Cavill X Omega!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Author Notes:

★Please if you have been affected by the trouble teen industry scroll down and click one of the links at the bottom of the fic. I cannot promise they will help but I can promise it's always an option to try. 💙 You may have seen this fic posted before.

★I have had to repost this story because my old account had been shadow banned.

Inspiring Song: The Dog Days By Florence & The Machine

☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤

April 15th 2023, 13:00pm, Trinity, California, America.

“Holy shit, holy shit, no, no, no!” You sobbed.

To the light of your bathroom you held a plastic stick test, it’s tip was soaked in your urine. Five other tests were on the floor around your feet, all positive; all Omega.

You couldn’t believe this, your whole life you had heard on repeat over and over “Alpha, Alpha, you are an Alpha.”

Her parents were both Alphas which meant you were supposed to be an Alpha!

The possibility of being an Omega for you had to be less than six percent. The last Omega in your family was your great-great-grandmother on your mother’s side or some distant shit like that. Your aunts and uncles were all Alphas.

Your family have always told you that “to be an Omega is to be a waste of time. A curse. A weak link of society.”

Omegas were submissive, obedient, they were at home looking after pups or in the hospital at the nursery or at daycares looking after loud, slobbering toddlers.

Your family were strongly built, they were made of soldiers, police officers, construction developers, political leaders and company CEO’s. Not pathetic, whiney housewives. Omegas were “too emotional” for those bigger fields.

Currently you were seeing your whole world and way of life swirling down the toilet bowl as you flushed it. You wanted to stay in college and study to be a high paid vet! Now you were risking being sent to a correctional centre or foreign country with extra distant family and forced to knit and paint until finally sold off to a partner or a birthing centre for science.

You sobbed harder before finally vomiting over the toilet bowl induced by the overwhelming stress.

Laying your cheek on the seat you glanced at your phones time and cringed. Your mother would be home any minute! Picking up each test, you considered snapping them in half and clogging the toilet up with them, but what was the point? When scent was in the picture evolution was the final bitch...

Looking at the many smiley faces in your hands you felt like they were mocking you, laughing at your further misery. Normally you would have gotten angry, but now…instead you were consumed by hopelessness and sadness.

You cried and cradled the pee tests to your chest. Stumbling out of the bathroom you floated to your side table and laid the tests down. You slumped and crawled into your bed, beneath your covers, you hugged the duvets and sniffled.

“W-worst day ever,” you whimpered and whined over and over, muffled by the softness of your pillows.

☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤

April 15th 2023, 16:30pm, Trinity, California, America.

“Y/N! Come down here young lady!” Your mother called from the kitchen.

Your eyes flashed open, You were wrapped in a tumble of your sheets and blankets. Your mother must’ve just come just gotten home, she was always so busy with her corporate work. You hadn’t seen your dad in two weeks since his overtime in the city bank.

Who were you to complain? It paid for everything you had ever known...You just wished some money could’ve bought times you missed or never experienced with your family...

You could hear her call again, firmer this time around.

You groaned and dragged yourself up from your bed and down the stairs. Your stomach growled, you were starved...hungry. You looked at your phone again and squinted at the time...four hour long nap.

You wondered what your mother was planning to cook or if she was just going to order another pizza, her cooking sucked if you were being honest...

Stepping into the kitchen your mother was kicking off her leather shoes and ripping her suit blazer over the counter. She looked angry, god why was she so pissed now? What had you done this time?

“What did I say about boys?” She snapped over her shoulder. She slammed the medical cabinet shut and frantically popped a suppressant and painkiller. She swallowed them dry and grunted, clenching a fist and held up an accusing finger at you.

Sure she had every right to be grumpy. It was your job to complete chores while you studied at home. Laundry hadn’t been folded and dishes hadn’t been put away from the dish washer.

But to be mad about boys? Now that, you didn’t understand the sudden burst of tone.

You felt your body loosen and turn icy, your skin covered in goosebumps.

Your mother was furiously popping a second pill before her when you shivered, “D-don’t bring boys over.”

She sneered, her canines flashing; her eyes identical to yours, glared you down.

Stepping around you to the pantry cupboards, she whipped out an air freshener and dosed the room in a scent of lavender…only to be clouded by hormonal pheromones again...the lavender was defenceless against the smell.

You felt the air grow painfully heavy as your mother hissed and sprayed the can out, before furiously slamming onto the counter and slamming the cupboards shut.

“Then why the fuck do I smell an omega?!” her sharp nail pointed to the ceiling and she began yelling as though there was someone upstairs she was calling to, “You tell that bloody boy to get out before I haul his goddamn omega ass out onto the fucking sidewalk!”

Omega…She thinks I brought an omega over…She smells…me…omega…I’m an omega…no…no…

“M-mum…I don’t have a b-boy over,” You stepped from side to side nervously and wrung your hands.

Your mother pinched the bridge her of nose and sighed, “Well Y/N…I didn’t know you were into girls,” gently reaching out, she pulled back your silk cap, releasing your protected hair, “…but she needs to leave.”

 Your mother’s fingers touched your cheek, she flinched at the heat in your face, you were boiling. It was then that colour started to fade from her face.

“Mom, please-” Before you could explain that you were the cause of the flooding scent, she marched her way up stairs and slammed open your bedroom door where a giant wave of humid Omega scent flew out.

No…no! Mom! Stop! No!

Your voice was silent, your lips shut in a worried grimace.

As you ran up the stairs after her, you could hear your mother’s high pitched scream.

☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤

April 15th 2023, 17:45pm, Trinity, California, America.

The hospital was…cold…the air-conditioning peltsd down on your neck, it made you want to snuggle deeper into your sweater, it might’ve been spring and warming up but you felt so hot and cold and you knew the soft material is what you needed.

Your mother was trembling just as hard as you were. Her knee was bouncing hard and she.keot wiping her mouth and checking her phone. Your father wasnt responding to any of her texts or calls.... you couldn’t tell if your mother was experiencing fear, rage even …disappointment. She hadn’t let you touch her ever since she found all the positive Omega tests. When you tried to hold her hand, she growled at you from the back of her throat.

It hurt your feelings badly.

You craved touch, you needed support, you needed your mum, you needed affection.

The waiting room was almost empty, the only other people was an Omega man with his pup in a sling while his Alpha wife continued to protectively touch their baby’s forehead. You stared at the baby though… pups…where are my pups?...

“Y/N Y/L/N?” an English accent cut through the train of thought on the baby. In the doorway to the hall, a tall doctor was looking between you and the couple. When you stood up, with your mother hot on your tail, he smiled and led your both to his office.

Awkwardly you sat down onto a waiting chair next to the doctors desk. Taking a deep breath you could smell the scent of Alpha and hand sanitiser. The overwhelming senses made you feel slightly nauseas.

Your mother sat beside you with an annoyed sigh, she lifted her hand out to the doctor to shake it, “Y/M/N, Mrs Y/L/n, Y/N's mother.”

The doctor gave a side glance at her reaction and then looked at you with a soft smile.

He strained in his professional British tone, “Hello Mrs Y/L/N, I’m Doctor Cavill.”

After the two Alphas acquainted themselves he finally sat in his wheeley chair and regarded you.

“What can I help you with today Miss Y/L/N?” he smiled.

You noticed how he looked so clean, and was built like a brickhouse, he smelt like an Alpha. The rooms light glinted on his medical wrist band proclaiming him as his blood type and confirming his own scent.

Behind his spectacles, his eyes were kind, made of two colours, blue and his left eye had a tip of brown…it was merely something you saw...his smile was warm like a freshly baked cookie. Oh god…you was aroused.

You didn’t realise your weren’t answering his question when he stared at you. Your mother finally answered.

“She smells like an Omega.”

Such a dirty word...Omega...you cringed.

....goddess...please don’t let me be a homely sulk.

The Doctor then turned his attention away and pursed his lips and lifted a single brow at your mother, “Is something wrong with that?”

The older woman scoffed and rose her voice to a humiliating state. Your heart was beating fast, your cheeks were heating up and you tried sinking further into the seat. Your nose dug into the woollen shoulder of your sweater. What you would give to be allowed to hide away from this situation.

“Her father and I are both pure blooded Alphas! How can this happen!? The last omega we had was my great-grandmother and that’s it!”

Doctor Cavill sighed calmly as he took off his glasses and placed them on his desk. He folded his arms and stood from his desk, “I see, well then Mrs Y/L/N, please step outside to the waiting room. I will need to conduct a blood and vaginal test.”

Your mother obviously huffed and grumbled about ‘how unprofessional’ and ‘surely I can stay’.

Even now you wanted her to leave with her hostile attitude. Luckily there was no way a female Alpha would argue with a male Alpha. When the door shut though it felt strange. All the heavy tension in the room lifted off of your chest. You felt instantly calmer and made it easier to breathe.

The doctor sat back into his desk chair and crossed a leg over another casually.

“So…” he smiled, “How do you feel Miss Y/L/N?”

You gulped slightly and shakily answered, “Everything is smelling sweeter than normal,” you hated the scent of hand sanitiser but now it was something you wanted to shove up your nose.

If it blocked out every other scent from the dust on the walls to the chocolate in the vending machine outside to the scent of the alpha right in front of you…You would drink it all down.

“No,” he chuckled, pushing back from his desk and started rummaging through his desk for medical items, “I mean, are you okay? Are you stressed or scared, or are you alright? I can always get a cup of water for you. But we need to take your blood first.”

You shook your head and tucked your neck deeper down into your sweater. Your fingers felt the scratchiness of the wool. You nodded and slipped the material off over your head and folded it neatly onto the chair your mother sat.

“I’m terrified,” you confessed, your voice choked up, “I don’t want to be an Omega, I hope this is just a stupid puberty flux…maybe it’s a flip!”

It wasn’t uncommon for this situation to happen. Hormones can sometimes Flip and shows signs for the two other blood types, sometimes blood has become contaminated due to high iron levels or too much sugar intake. Diabetes were always Flipping the board. There were a million things that could cause a Flip in the hormonal pool.

“There’s nothing wrong with being an Omega you know,” the doctor commented sternly, holding up a needle, changing the needle point while you choked.

You felt unusually insulted, “Everything is wrong with being an Omega, I won’t get the job I want and I won’t be allowed to come to parties with my friends, I’ll be stuck home with a…a…a fucking baby. Or sent to a breeding farm! I heard about the science experiments conducted on pregnant Omegas in the camps.”

The doctor turn abruptly at yoj and narrowed his eyes at you, he appeared offended. What does he need to be offended about, he’s an Alpha!

But his frown became a smirk, “You’re aware they are safetly committed with the Omegas consent?”

 He patted the medical chair in the centre of the room, “But whatever case, what do you want to do Career wise?” he asked while you crawled up atop of the tall chair and let him pull up your sleeve and wipe the alcohol on your arm.

“I want to be a vet,” you winced as the needle broke through your skin. You looked away from the bubbling blood being sucked up through the tube.

As he pulled away and capped the needle tip he asked, “Ever thought about midwifery?”

“I don’t like babies,” you snorted ignoring how desperately you were yearning to have one of your own ten minutes ago, “They’re so uncomfortable to be around. And I don’t want to listen to a screaming woman in labour.”

You noticed the movement in his shoulders as they slumped, he nodded and you felt like you were failing an unspoken test. You felt a rising anxiety, you growled to yourself, it’s just a hormonal Flip.

“Fair enough,” Doctor Cavill said off handily, he sealed up your blood tube in a plastic bag and started to write your details. The pen cap lazily hung from his lips. He looked like he smoked…he didn’t smell like it though, maybe it was the way he stood. His scent was so easy to smell and feel…you yearned to know if he could smell you. And to your tragic uncontrol, your underwear were rubbing rough against your sensitive areas, the fumes dragged out this needing slick that was sickening.

Being omega is disgusting, this is what they do all the time? Gross! GET ME SOME ALPHA HORMONES NOW.

You knew this had to be wrong, all the time you had been surrounded by alphas and you had been strong and confident like an alpha, maybe a little strategic like a beta. You were sure though you were alpha rather than beta and there was no possible way for you to present as a dormant omega for this long!

Normally Omegas presented at fucking fourteen to sixteen not your age!!

“How old are you Miss Y/L/N?”

“I’m eighteen,” You informed him of your birthday and he nodded, writing it down in the corner of the bag.

You were officially pissed off, crossing your arms you felt your eyes watering. “I want to be an Alpha or even a Beta,” You whimpered, “I can’t be an Omega, no way.”

The whimper…Shit! Stop whimpering you baby! Stop proving this point! Could you be anymore Omega!?

The doctor placed the test bag on his desk before gifting yoh a soft tissue “Have you taken a home determine test?” his hands settled onto his knees as he crouched down before you.

You broke out into a light sob and nodded, “ugh huh, I took six different ones…all positive for Omega.”

The doctor smiled sadly and handed you the box of tissues he had on his desk. A nurse came knocking barely after you had started. It made you feel puny when you couldn’t stop yourself from crying. You felt helpless, why couldn’t they just get you some alpha hormones already?

“Please take this to the test room,” he asked the nurse, handling a plastic bag with your needle inside.

Doctor Cavill let you cry as long as you wanted and reminded you that it wasn’t a hundred percent if you were an Omega yet.

The doctor rubbed your back and cleared his throat. From a draw below your feet he pulled out a green plastic cape, “Miss Y/L/N would you like to step into the bathroom there and remove your bottoms? Put the gown on?”

Time to get the vaginal confirmation that you were tighter than a needle hole. You pushed his hand away. God he sounded patronising, even if he was being merely polite about the events unfolding you took it as a personal attack, an underlying “You’re a weak omega, deal with it!”

No! I’m not an Omega!

Things were escalating to quickly; you barely realised the conclusions you were leaping to and how dramatic you were pushing with these emotions. You sniffed hard and snapped at him, “Can’t I just take my pants off now?”

Doctor Cavill shifted back uncomfortably, he grit his teeth and scrunched up his eyes, “I merely am offering a more comfortable option,” he clapped his hands, “But you may if you wish, have you ever attended a gynaecologist for a papsmear?” he asked as he got his tools ready from another draw.

You leaped off the chair and slammed yout foot down.

“Duh!” You yelled, kicking your shoes off, and shoving your pants down, You were furious. Moodswings was a popular symptom of Flips.

“I just want to get this over with. Mum is so pissed off. Can’t wait for some fucking A-pills,” you grumbled, leaning back into the chair and spread your legs apart…normally yoh did this with a female doctor but right now you were too impatient to request a woman and you needed to know how fucked up your Flip was and how long would you be experiencing it and how powerful would the drugs be.

You couldn’t even stand the look your mother gave you when she held up the positive determine tests with horror.

The doctor cleared his throat again, snapping white gloves onto his hand and over his wrist band. He squirted a tube of lube over his hands and over the speculum, lining it up to your vagina and pushed it inside slowly, “Miss Y/L/N, please relax for me.”

You huffed to yourself. I am fucking relaxed! -No you’re not, you’re a bad omega, obey him!

The metal was cold inside of you but you were looking forward to the results: Alpha, Alpha, Alpha, I am Alpha.

He took a flashlight and shone the light down your passage, looking down at your inner muscles, “How often do you practise sexual intercourse Miss Y/L/N?” looking up at you from your fuzzy pussy.

Shit, the scent was strong, it was so sweet like maple syrup and honey but sweeter…lick me. Oh fuck please alpha please please.

You shook your head and blushed, “N-never, I’ve only masturbated. So…last papsmear I only came in to make sure I didnt have a yeast infection.”

You swallowed hard, your head felt hot and you swore yoj could feel cold sweat dripping down, “Am I an Alpha or Beta?”

The doctor dipped two rubber fingers inside of you, patting down and around inside You. And suddenly his eyes widened, he gently slipped out his fingers and the cold speculum out. On his fingers was blood…oh shit…

“You may sit up and dress Miss Y/L/N, “The doctor set his tools and gloves into a silver tray. You trembled…what were you? A or B?

He was washing his hands in the sink right beside your head as you bit your lips and tugged up your undies and jeans back up. The room was so quiet, the only noise was the sinks running water and the air conditioner. You shivered and sniffled.

Doctor Cavill’s shoulders were low, he turned his head and faced you. Twisting his fingers together he shook his head, “Miss Y/L/N,” he started with a long exhaled breath, “You’re days away from your first Estrus.”

The earth dropped and the moon broke and the stars were dimmed…“What do you mean Estrus!?” yoj questioned. Tears spurted from your eyes again. Gagged by nature.

No fucking way. Yes way.

“‘Heat’, an Omega will go into Estrus or commonly known as Heat while an Alpha will go into Oestrus commonly known as a ‘Rut’,” Doctor Cavill tried explain only for the blood to boil out of you and make you scream at him.

“I know what it is! I must be going into Oestrus, n-not an estrus, I can’t be an Omega, doctor! Ch-Check again!”

Sweat trailed from your face down your neck, your heart was punching your insides, seeking an escape through your ribcage.

When you tried undoing your pants again, The doctor tore your hands away and took your wrists up, he was breathing harshly through his nose, “Miss Y/L/N I’m going to have to ask you to sit down and take a deep breath. Listen to me.”

You shook your head over and over, you couldn’t believe it! You were beginning to sob hard, choking on tears.

You wailed, “No, no, no, please doctor, please!”

Out of the depth of the doctor’s chest came a stern growl, “Sit. Down. Now. Or I will have to restrain and sedate you.”

Your body was out of control, you didn’t want to sit but your arse met the chair cushion anyway.

Good omega.

The doctor huffed, shaking his head with disappointment, your head flinched down, cowering and humiliated. You felt apologetic, but this wasn’t the real you!!

“Good girl,” he praised, he handed you a paper cup filled with water from the sink, “Now drink.”

The water was gulped down in a heartbeat, yoh needed the refreshment even if you didn’t want it, your doctor nodded, “That’s it.”

As you sipped on some more water the nurse from earlier stepped inside and handed the doctor a sheet of paper. The blood results… You shook on the spot, your red face panicking.

“Pl-please,” you choked on the water slightly, clearing your sore throat, you sniffled, “What does it say?”

There was still a chance, maybe he was wrong; maybe this was just a intense Oestrus that was causing you to bleed. Maybe it was so strong your vaginal walls were stabbing themselves, seeking out an omega cock to claim.

Cavill looked from you to the parchment a few times, he shook his head. He held out the medical sheet to you and pointed to a positive cross.

The world went silent even as he was talking to you…it was a distant noise. Static.

“Miss Y/L/N, you are as I had diagnosed, Omega positive,” he scratched his neck gland gently, “You are days away from your first Estrus. I will give you a choice to either battle through it with medical aids or medical suppressants.”

You dropped the paper and the cup, the shock was as cold as ice. You felt weak, your arms numb, your eyes rolled back and your mouth lulled open. Your life was completely over.

You were Omega...and you fainted.

☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤Ω☤

April 16th 2023, 1:25am, Trinity, California, America.

When you woke up, you were delirious. The world wouldn’t stop twisting and turning. Above you was a bright light, you cringed away and whimpered. There was a mean bite at your wrist.

You felt cold, washed out. Your body was laid out and angled up a slight. Your cheek rubbed into the soft hospital pillow. You smelt blood, so much metallic salt in the air. And your stomach was viciously growling. You peered down and noticed what was pinching your wrist. Handcuffs. You were handcuffed to the railing of the hospital bed!

Clearing your eyes, you noted how you were surrounded by three blue curtains. One was quick to open, making you jump.

The nurse from earlier smiled at you eagerly, her Beta tag was super shiny in the light, forcing you to blink rapidly, “Oh look, you’re awake. Can you please tell me your full name sweetheart?”

When you sat up you moaned out your entire name.

Before you could ask about the handcuffs being removed, the nurse smiled and held up a torch.

“Wonderful, now I am gonna need to shine a little light in your eye, can you please look into the corner of the ceiling dear?”

Doing as you were told, it was quick and over as soon as it had begun. The nurse was pleased, “Fabulous, right, I’ll be right back, Doctor Cavill needs to have a chat with you.”

“B-but my hand…”

Ignoring you, the nurse left.

Something was clearly off. Why did they handcuff you!? You started to tug at the chain, feeling anxiety seep deep and activate a sense of fight or flight. The curtains reopened. And in stepped the doctor.

He grinned and nodded his head to you, “Hello there Y/N, how are we?”

You weren’t amused in the slightest, quick with retort, “Chained to a bed rail.”

He smiled and whipped out a key, uncuffing you from the bed. You cradled your wrist rubbing the ring indent in your skin, murmuring ‘thankyou’.

Your stomach loudly purred, extinguishing the level of discomfort you wanted to send the doctor. “…and hungry.”

“I’ll tell the nurse to get you some jello,” he chuckled, rubbing his hands. Just as he was to leave, you launched yourself forward and caught his medical coat, “Wh-where’s my mom?”

He softly assured you, “She is just sitting in my room, we were discussing options after I showed her and your father your blood results.” Oh…dad…oh jesus…he finally was here.

You suspected your father to have been incredibly furious. How much furniture did he break?

“You…” you paused, “options…” You gulped and smiled at the doctor, “….I want suppressants...as soon as possible.” They would surely fix everything! You could have some and go have a coffee with your friends tomorrow.

“Not those kind of options…” He sighed and perched himself near your feet at the foot of the bed.

That was a weird answer…what does he mean? Could they change my DNA? Could they turn me into an Alpha.

You had heard of some new sciences like that coming in. The ability to change your DNA genome...

“What other types are there?” you laughed hesitantly.

When he didn’t answer you, It was like the air grew icy and heavy…there’s a reason they kept you chained like a bitch.

There was only one other option....a correctional institution. You felt sick, your hungry belly was replaced with nausea. Your nose sniffled.

“I want to see my mom,” you gulped and moved to slip out of the bed. The medical gown was scratchy against your skin, you started to feel worse, your fingers scrunched up and unravelled. Your body felt dizzy when you stood up to quickly. The doctor attempted to block your way when you peeled back the curtain to many empty beds and a single door with a sign above it...

 “Farewell room.”

No, no, fuck, no! Where’s mom and dad!

You ran at the door and shook at the handle, but it was locked. You couldn’t breathe, you were locked in with the doctor. You couldn’t escape. The floor cleaner and bright lights were clouding your senses, blinding you and burning your nostrils.

You ripped a heavy breath, not thinking it would be so painful after holding it in too long.

I won’t cry, no, no crying!

“Y/N I’m going to need you to calm down,” the doctor informed you setting his hands over your shoulders, you were fast to slap them away. You lowly growled at him and bared your teeth ferally.

Don’t you fucking touch me!

When it clicked at the severe reaction you had made especially to an alpha, you felt instant regret and guilt, you choked on more tear and buried your head into the doctors chest. His heart was beating fast too, but not like your rabbit pounding blood.

“N-no,” she cried, “I want my mommy!”

You felt the doctor soothingly rub his hand over your head and down your back. He hushed you until you were just a whimpering woman.

The door unlocked, and finally…“Y/N…” your mother spoke out to you.

You snapped back around and saw her and your father beside the door. Your father barely came inside, his lips curled in, disappointed, disgusted and silent.

A desperate and hopeful smile came to your face, your hands reached out, “Mom!”

But the older woman just stood back from you...she was keeping distance purposely. The closer you reached and sought her, the more she distanced herself and stood closer to the door.

“M-mom? H-hug me…” you begged, “pl-please mom?”

She sighed and looked away from you, refusing to look you in the eye. Shame.

“Doctor Cavill, your father and I believe it is best if you…go away for sometime,” she clutched her own arms, “…where people can help you.”

You did not see it that way at all, and you just knew she was lying out of her arse. She was getting rid of you...betraying you...disowning you....

“I don’t need to be helped,” you sniffled and smiled, “I just-just need some suppressants.”

“Y/N,” she seethed through her gritted teeth, “Go with the nice nurses.”

“M-mommy, please,” you begged pathetically and got to your knees on the cold tiled floor, “Please don’t do this!”

“STOP!” your mother screamed, “You are making a scene!” she rolled her eyes and turned around to leave, “You will go to ‘Saint Selene’s School For Adolescent Omega.’ We may see you during the summer.” And slammed the door closed.

You flinched at the cracking bang that echoed your ears.

You ran to the door and found it locked, you pounded the window with your fists and screamed out, “D-don’t leave me, please don’t leave me Dad!…M-Mummy!” your parents did not look back as they walked away, abandoning their only child.

Their backs and bodies continued to get smaller and smaller the further they walked. The sight broke your heart and soul. The concept of betrayal could not be clearer. Your breath clouded the glass, your tears slid down and tapped onto the floor, onto your naked feet.

Doctor Cavill’s hand reached out and wrapped around your bicep, trying to tug you back from the door.

“Come on,” he said.

 You shouted, “Let go of me!”

When he did not, you snarled and noticed a lonely pen on the end of a bed frame with a clip board. You grabbed it and jabbed his forearm. The blue ink spattered across his skin while he yelled in pain.

“Get the fuck off of me!” you squealed again and held up the pen with both hands, take a few steps back from the now pissed off Doctor. The sound of the door opening again had your heart rushing.

Mom!?

To your massive disappointment, it was the nurse who was shocked by the scene unfolded. Now you were totally surrounded.

“Put the weapon down!” the beta demanded, holding up her own hands in defence, “Now.”

“Calm,” was the word you heard the doctor say beside your ear, before pressing your back into him, grasping your jaw and finally feeling an incredibly long sting in your neck followed by the unusual flow of liquidised drugs into your body, “calm.”

You were scared, unsure of what was going into your body, your chest thundered with your beating heart until it was like you blinked and everything relaxed. Your body felt instant exhaustion and peace...you snapped back and fell back against his chest.

“Calm...” he whispered, “Calm...”

The last thing you heard...

Calm...

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers. .

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

[treluna4]

Fan fic saved my life

TW: emotional abuse, coercion, control, intimidation, homelessness, psychological abuse, DV.

Today, I (through an attorney) served my abuser with a protection order. I entered the apartment I’ve been banned from for the last four years, took back what was rightfully mine, and left.

I’m free.

My life is mine again.

I never thought I would have to do something like this. Now that I have, I’ve come to realize that I’ve learned a lot of really hard life lessons from this fucked up experience. Here are a few of them:

What I’ve learned as a survivor of DV:

DV doesn’t just happen between family members or romantic partners. Your abuser can be a lifelong friend. Someone you have a shared history with. Someone who has helped you, supported you, loved you in the past.

Your abuser can be a disabled person.

Your abuser can have a chronic illness.

Your abuser can be financially dependent on you.

No abuser starts out that way. There’s a shift that happens over time, so gradually that it’s hard to know it’s happening until it’s too late.

My abuser gaslit the fuck out of me. She labeled me a monster, a villain, a sociopath, an abalist, because I didn’t empathize with her enough. No matter what I did, it was never enough for her. I was never enough.

And I believed her.

She convinced me that there was something deeply, inherently wrong with me. Something I must fix and change and grow from in order to be a good person again.

She convinced me she alone could fix those monstrous parts of me.

She convinced me that everyone else could see those parts too. That all my friends and family thought there was something deeply wrong with me. They just never said anything. Because I was an angry, violent person and they were all too scared to say anything. She reminded me, constantly, of all the ways which I was a failure.

Her relentless judgment and criticism changed me. It changed who I was and how I interacted with the world. I was scared of my own shadow. Scared of anyone in a position of authority. Terrified of ever doing anything wrong.

Trapped as I was in my circumstances, I became bitter and angry. Gone was the bright, happy person I’d been my entire life. It was wrong to be so happy, she said. No one is that happy all the time. It was time to grow the fuck up. Be an adult. And I agreed.

Caught up in my new mentality, I said things, did things, thought things that I will deeply regret for years to come. I was cold to people who didn’t deserve it. Rude for reasons I didn’t fully understand. I was trying to grow, just like she said. Trying to change. Convinced as I was that she was right. This is what it meant to be an adult. After all, no one is that happy all the time.

My newfound bitterness only proved her point. Of course I was a terrible person who never knew how to love people. Here’s the evidence! Obviously, what I thought was love had only ever been manipulation. She was right, after all. She was always right. I’d never truly loved anyone or anything.

I really was a monster.

It got to a point where I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror. I didn’t even want to look at my reflection. I didn’t want to face the broken shell of a person I’d become. I didn’t want to see what the rest of the world had always seen.

I stopped my spiritual practices. I didn’t want to face that uncomfortable truth that I was a failure. I was bad and wrong and terrible. So I hid the best parts of myself, to keep them away from the cruel person I really was.

I downplayed my queerness. I wore muted clothes and became a muted person. I fled from anything that might draw attention, anything that would warrant a comment. After all, she couldn’t attack something that no longer existed.

She made me question everything. Every single aspect of my life. She convinced me everything I’d ever known was a lie. I’d never actually done anything with a pure heart or good intentions. Everything I’ve ever done was a manipulation. A way to get everyone around me to do what I wanted them to. I was incapable of true, genuine love. What I felt was not love. It was a lie. Who I was, was nothing but a lie.

She told me I was a bad caregiver, and that I only ever made tough situations worse. She told me many times that I was emotionally unstable and should never be allowed to work with vulnerable populations. As someone who spent her life working with children and caring for others, this devastated me.

Despite all of this, she said she loved me. That she cared about me. She was simply telling me all of this for my own good, because it was her job to fix me. I had to stay with her, I had to continue to support her, until I could prove to her that I was mentally sound. Then and only then would she let me go. After all, she said, It wouldn’t be safe for her to let someone like me out in the world. It was her job to make sure I was healed first, so that I wouldn’t hurt anyone else the way I hurt her. That’s why I couldn’t leave her. I had to stay. I had to help her get better, since it was my fault she was ill in the first place. If I had been more emotionally stable, we wouldn’t have been in this situation and she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. So the only way out (for both of us) was for me to fundamentally change.

She constantly turned her abuse around on me. Whatever terrible things she said to me were justified. After all, she didn’t say anything worse to me than I once said to her. And since I obviously never cared about her, why should she care about me now? She was just matching my energy. Playing my game. I was actually the one controlling things here, and any misfortune was my fault, really. Any of my accomplishments were solely because of her, and all the work she put into making me a better person over the course of our decade + long friendship.

And I believed her. Always. Why wouldn't I? She helped me all those times before, right? Whenever I was at my lowest, she was the person I’d always turned to. She was always right back then, why should this time be any different? She was a good person. Kind. Brilliant. Not like anyone else is ever known. Surely that had to count for something.

Right?

Turns out, it’s not that simple. Just because someone helped you out before doesn’t mean they’re helping you out now.

If I could go back seven years, this is what I’d tell my 30-year-old self; fresh from a break-up. Lost. Scared. Vulnerable.

Write it down. Whatever she says, whatever she does, write it all down. You might not want to face it. You might not want to see how bad it really is, but write it down anyway.

A person who feels they have no control over their own life can find comfort in controlling yours.

No one ever anticipates finding themself in an abusive situation. There’s no planning for it or preparing for it. Even if you know the signs (and I knew all the signs), it can still happen to you.

If you don’t feel comfortable speaking up for yourself, if you can’t somehow say “no” to someone, it doesn’t mean you are a weak person, or that you’re doing anything wrong. It means you don’t feel safe around them.

Anything done “For your own good” rarely is.

You cannot be bullied into feeling empathy for someone. But that doesn’t mean you’re incapable of feeling empathy.

You are allowed to leave. You are not obligated to stay in a toxic situation, regardless of your past. And you are not a heartless monster for leaving someone, even if they are sick. There is nothing wrong with putting your health and safety above all else. That doesn’t make you selfish. That doesn’t make you a monster.

You’re allowed to be a full, entire person. You’re allowed to make mistakes. That doesn't mean you’re incompetent, or manipulative, or fucking ablist. It means you’re a person. A human being. And regardless of whatever mistakes you’ve made in the past, you don’t deserve to be treated this way.

We warn children about the dangers of keeping a secret. That doesn’t just apply to children. Do not keep her secrets. Do not keep her silence.

Isolation comes in many forms and each is toxic.

Do not isolate yourself. Talk to the people in your life. Let them in. Even if you think what you’re going through is not a big deal, even if you don’t wanna burden them. Even if you have trouble saying the words out loud. (Especially if you have trouble saying it out loud) Tell someone. Let your friends in. Let them help you.

You are not a burden.

Luckily for me, I have two incredible friends who helped me get out. Two people my abuser never knew about, because she told me to stay off of all social media. She told me fan fiction and fan spaces were bad for my mental health. It was childish for a grown woman to still be writing fan fic. Or acting in plays. Or listening to musicals. Or doing any of the many things that brought me so much joy, in my life before her.

Thank god I didn’t listen. At least, not for long.

Because two of my pocket friends that I met ON THIS VERY HELL SITE are the reason I’m free today.

@celeritas2997 and @statueinthestone . None of this would have happened without you two. I love you both so much.

Cee taught me what it looks like to support someone who is not ready to leave. When I finally worked up the nerve to tell her what was going on, she listened. She didn’t judge. Instead, she gave me the resources I needed to get out and encouraged me to seek help, without ever once shaming me for not being ready.

And it took me a very long time to be ready. But she never once demeaned me for it. She waited SO patiently, and listened whenever I shared new details of my abuse with her. She continued to suggest I get help, and when I chickened out again and again, she was still there. She never gave up on me. When I finally took her advice and reached out to the resources she suggested and started the process of leaving my abuser, she celebrated with me. She never once said “I told you so”.

Thank god I finally listened to her.

Jesi. Fuck. Jesi helped me in so many fucking ways, but none more so than this: she taught me that not everyone shows love the same way, and that’s okay. Just because the way I show love is different from what others expect or demand from me, it is in no way less valid. Thr way I love is valid. The way I love is enough.

I am enough.

Beyond the emotional lessons, this experience taught me a whole host of other things as well. For almost four years now, I’ve been homeless. I’ve been living in my car while my abuser lived in my apartment. I paid for her rent, food, medications, clothes, household items, streaming service subscriptions. (Streaming services I was forbidden to use, by the by. Because. You know. Mental health. I didn’t listen to this either. 😂)

And it was no big deal! It made sense, really, to do all this for her. After all, she was sick. And she was my best friend. She had already sacrificed so much for me. She was a good person who’d been dealt a shitty hand. She’d NEVER take advantage of me.

Right?

And anyway, I wasn’t really homeless. I CHOSE to live in my car. It was the right thing to do. That apartment was so tiny and she was so, so sick. And I’d always wanted to live a nomad lifestyle! I got bored living in apartments. That’s why I moved around so much in my life before her. Living in my car just made sense. It’s what I wanted.

Right?

Being homeless has taught me so much, not just about myself, but i e picked up a lot of car living life hacks. Here are a few of them:

You can work two jobs and still be homeless.

Like abuse, homelessness can look like many things. It’s not just that one stereotypical image that pops in your brain when you hear the word. To this day, my employers have no idea I’m homeless, and I’ve been working for them for two years.

Battery powered anything is a godsend.

Public restrooms are an absolute necessity for all of society. I will forever and always be grateful for them, especially for public park restrooms that are open all year round.

There are certain places where sleeping in a car is legal, and many places where it’s not. Familiarize yourself with your local laws. Be safe.

There are at least 20 different meals you can cobble together from the prepared food section at any grocery store with about $10 and a little creativity.

Quarantining with Covid sucks. Quarantining for 5 straight days in a car sucks absolute dickhole. (That said, doordash will deliver directly to your car and leave the bag on the hood, if you ask nicely)

Wet wipe showers are 100% a real thing and are a good solution in a pinch, but NOTHING beats a hot shower. Absolutely nothing. (I can’t wait to have a bathtub again.)

Stuffing 4-6 Hot Hand packets in the bottom of a thick sleeping bag will go a long way to keeping you warm on subzero nights.

For curtains: crack open a window, stick the edge of a sheet through, and close the window again. Repeat as necessary.

For sleeping, if possible: remove the headrest from the front passenger seat and lower it completely until it reaches the back seat for an impromptu L-shaped bed.

Try not to sleep in the same position every night. Your body will thank you later.

Always keep at least one window open a crack, even in the winter. Condensation leads to mold.

If you take a second job working nights, know that it is fucking impossible to sleep in a car on a hot fucking summer day when you can only open the window a fucking crack (for the sake of safety). You will wake up in the afternoon gross, smelly and drenched in sweat.

Gym memberships are an absolute must.

Beyond that, I’ve also learned the importance of setting boundaries, and that not only is it okay to say “no” it’s essential. I’ve learned you’re not selfish for wanting to leave a toxic situation. I’ve learned that freedom can be taken from you, but that you can take it back. And above all, I now know one thing with absolute certainty:

You cannot be broken.

You. Cannot. Be. Broken.

No matter what happens to you, no matter how they try, they will NEVER break you.

Abuse can lead you to forget, for a while, who you are, and you might need to lock up certain parts of yourself temporarily for the sake of your own survival.

But one day.

One day.

You will hit the point where you have had enough. And on that day you’ll find that she was always there. With you. The whole time. The person you truly are was with you all along. She never left. She’s simply been waiting for you to need her again.

And on that day, that glorious day when you truly wake up, your entire life will change. Even if you can’t leave yet, when you realize the full weight of what is happening to you, when you realize the truth, you let the hope back in. And every step you take toward your goal from there on out, every step toward your freedom, will be all the sweeter for it.

You will doubt yourself, of course. Even after you choose to leave, even as you prepare and plan, you will doubt yourself.

She’ll be so angry if I go. So hurt. Can I really do that to her? She’s sick. She needs me. She doesn’t have anyone else. Can I really hurt her? I’ve hurt her so much already.

What if it’s not actually as bad as I think? Maybe I’m just being dramatic. Maybe I should try harder. Be better. Maybe I can save us.

She’ll come after me if I leave. She said so. She’s going to make me pay for what I’ve done to her. What if she makes good on her threats? What if she makes my life hell?

What if she was right?

What if she was right?

Can I really do this?

It’s natural to second guess yourself, especially on the “good” days. The days after a big blow up. When it seems like she’s moved on and conversations between you are normal again. Or as normal as they’ll ever be. Especially in those moments, you’re going to doubt yourself. That’s okay.

Doubt yourself. Do it anyway.

And in those particularly low moments, reach out to the people who truly love you and try to believe their reassurances, even when that feels impossible. Seeking help from your friends is not manipulation. There’s nothing wrong with needing guidance or validation. Especially not now.

I’m free. I’m finally free and I feel elated and giddy…and also scared. She told me multiple times in no uncertain terms that she was going to spend the rest of her life getting back at me for all the pain I caused her (and that was before I left).

But I’m also, surprisingly, sad. I didn’t want to do this. I didn’t want to get to the point where I would have to press charges against my former best friend in order to escape her. I loved her. I never wanted to hurt her. This is her absolute worst nightmare and I take no pleasure in making that happen.

But I have no regrets. I am a fucking human being with a good heart, free will, and some semblance of self respect. I don’t deserve to be treated this way. I have the right to protect myself and she’s made it clear, this is the only way I can do that. It’s sad, yes, but it had to happen. And after all, she has been threatening to do the same thing to me for years!

For at least two years now, she’s been saying that if I didn’t start giving a shit about her, she was going to have me arrested for abuse of a disabled person. She was going to have me placed under a conservatorship, or admitted to a psychiatric facility due to my mental and emotional instability. She said she was going to tell everyone I once loved what a terrible person I am, spread my secrets far and wide, among so many other threats, all intended to keep me in line.

It was an effective strategy. For a while, at least.

Leaving is painful. And scary. And sad. And quite possibly the most difficult thing I've ever had to do.

But it was necessary. And it was worth it. Oh my god it was SO fucking worth it!! I’m free. And my freedom is worth fighting for.

There’s a lot I still don’t know. I’m going to need a lot of time and therapy to feel like myself again, but in spite of all this, as I look at the boxes of my belongings I managed to rescue from the apartment I haven’t been allowed to enter in four years, I feel like I won.

I won.

I got my life back.

As hard as this was, never have I felt more hope for the future as I do right now. There is so much I want to do! So much I CAN do now! I have incredible friends I want to make things for. I have a beautiful cat (Vayda) I need to meet one day.

I’m going to get that haircut I always wanted, but never got for fear of ridicule (too queer). I’m going to get another tattoo, I’m going to travel, and soon, I’m going to have my own place again. For the first time in almost a decade. A small apartment just for me. A sanctuary.

I’m going to have a real bed again. And a kitchen. I’m going to take bubble baths and bake cookies and keep a toothbrush in an actual toothbrush holder and clothes in a real dresser instead of in a plastic tub in the trunk of my car. I’m going to have an herb garden and hang a bird feeder outside my window.

Hopefully one day I’ll even get a cat myself. A pet I can pour all my love into because I have love to give. I have so much love to give and the freedom to truly give it now.

My life is bright and full of possibilities again and none of that, not one single shred of the happiness I feel now would have been possible without fan fiction.

Fan fic gave me a community, when I was forced into isolation.

Fan fic gave me refuge on the long days when I couldn’t escape her relentless criticism.

Fan fic kept me warm when my windows were crusted over with frost.

Fan fic gave me lovely comments from lovely readers that kept me going. Words that told me maybe I wasn’t so worthless after all.

Fan fic has been my home, my one remaining source of joy, my tiny act of rebellion.

I’ve spent a lot of time already reminding myself of what is true and what isn’t. There’s a lot there left to sift through. But the greatest truth of my life is, and I’m not being hyperbolic when I say this:

Fan fiction saved my life.

[storiesofmyhead]

A Missing Seraphim Angel

Summary: When Alastor's Wife is taken from him and turned into a Seraphim Angel. He is stunned to see that she is right back is his arms 10 years later.

Word Count: 1,775

Hope you like it! Please reblog it means a lot. Also thinking about making a part 2. Let me know if you would like one. :)

"Sera please." The younger girl begged, her eyes big while she pouted at the older sister.

"No, Opal." Sera scolded, shaking her head at the crazy idea. Her wings, pure and glistening with divine light, folded tightly against her back, a symbol of her unwavering resolve.

"Why not? I don't see what the big deal is. It's only a little visit." The desperation in Opal's voice was clear, her own wings twitching with frustration under her robe.

"I've already said no once, and I will not say it again. You were brought up here because God believed that you were sent down by accident, and now you are one of the most prestigious angels. If you go down there and are spotted and recognized, you will be killed on sight. Now do not ask again." Sera's voice softened at the end, a plea for understanding beneath her stern exterior.

Opal groaned an angered groan and stormed out of the room. "Fine, if you won't let me go down willingly, then I'll just find a way down myself." She huffed, slamming the door behind her.

Storming to her room, she closed the door aggressively before taking a deep breath. "If only she knew the reason, then maybe she'd let me go. Maybe I should ask again. But if I ask again, then she'll get even more mad, and I'd never have another chance." She rambled, pacing back and forth. "If I get banned from Heaven, so be it. I don't care anymore. I just want to see my husband again." Opal could feel the tears well up in her eyes as she thought about the moment she was ripped away from him.

The overlord and his wife walked side-by-side down the sidewalk, sinners of all kinds scattering the second the two came into view. The dark, oppressive atmosphere of Hell was a stark contrast to the warmth Opal remembered from Heaven. "Oh Al, could we please go see Rosie? I haven't seen her in forever." Opal pouted jokingly at her husband, whose smile grew softer as his eyes darted down to his wife's expression.

"Of course we can, doll. I'm sure Rosie has missed you as well." The static in his voice grew softer, a sign of his excitement to see his old friend and wife spend time with each other once more. His crimson eyes glowed with a rare gentleness as he looked at her.

As they headed towards Cannibal Town, the normal echo of screams grew in size and sound. Tugging on her husband's coat, she glanced up at him, her delicate features contorted with worry. "Do you hear that? Don't the screams sound louder than normal?"

"Don't worry, my dear. I'm sure it's just some idiotic sinners." He said, brushing off her worry, hoping his words would make her feel better. His tall, imposing figure cast a long shadow, but it was a shadow she felt safe within.

Sighing, she nodded. "I guess you're right." Her lips pulled into a smile as she looked up at him, laying her head on his shoulder as they continued their walk, the entrance to Cannibal Town in the distance.

Looking up, she let her eyes wander, full trust in her husband to lead her out of any danger. While her eyes wandered, they suddenly focused on a small hole that was now opening up in the sky. Pulling his coat, her face filled with worry, he glanced down at her, their movements stopping.

"What is wrong, my dear?" He asked, his smile dropping by the second as he listened to her breaths quicken. His hands grabbed her sides, rubbing up and down to comfort her.

"Look," she said, pointing up at the sky as exterminators flew down, their golden armor gleaming ominously in the dark sky.

The normal amount of static he emitted tripled in size. She watched as his shadows covered the two until there was nothing left to the outside. Whimpering, her arms wrapped around his waist, his around her head and waist as he cradled her head into his chest.

But before the two could be transported back to his broadcasting tower, a light struck through the shadow shield. Both of their heads shot to the light in worry and fear of what would happen.

"Ahh, Opal Altruist. I have been looking for you everywhere." A voice called from the other side of the shield.

The light now clearing out as Alastor's shadows were broken through and dissipated. The figure known as Adam stood before them, a cocky smirk on his face. His wings, large and pristine, signified his high rank among the exterminators. Alastor stood, pulling his wife behind him, readying himself to fight off the first man.

"What do you want, Adam?" Alastor snarled, his static so loud it was hard to hear anything. His red eyes burned with anger, his shadows writhing around them protectively.

"All I need is the girl and we'll all leave." Adam said, his arms folded across his chest, his tone condescending and authoritative.

"Why?" Alastor snarled once more, wanting to know the reason for the angel's appearance in Hell. It couldn't just be for his wife. Right?

Adam sighed dramatically before speaking again. "Opal has been called upon by God himself to become one of his prestigious seraphim angels. Do not ask me why he has chosen a disgusting sinner, because I do not know. But I am going to be taking her now, so."

Before the two knew it, Opal and Adam had disappeared along with all of the other angels. It was as if they had never been there. Alastor stood shocked and angry. Growling, his static grew to a volume of white noise. Sinners screamed in pain at the noise, as Alastor grew to a demonic form, his tentacles reaching out, throwing and ripping apart other sinners in his rage.

Creating her own small portal, Opal quietly stepped through and entered the world she once called home. Turning her head, she watched the portal close slowly until it became nothing. Finally letting her eyes wander to take in where she was, familiarity hit her as the setting she was in was one of bad memories.

"Al~" She sighed sadly, her head moving into the thoughts of where her husband could be in this moment. Would he be happy to see her? Of course he would be, she is his wife. Right? It had been ten years since the two had seen each other. Would he still be as in love with her as he was ten years ago?

The thoughts of Alastor had her worried and excited at the same time. Wandering around the streets, she made sure her wings were concealed in her coat, as anyone could notice as the look of seraphim wings were separate from any other.

Looking down the street, she noticed the sign that read 'Cannibal Town'. A smile grew quickly onto her face as her legs carried her towards the entrance.

Her head took in the town, her looking for the house Rosie resided in. Though once her eyes landed on a big-looking mansion, she knew that that had to have been where Rosie was.

Pushing through the door, her eyes landed on Rosie, who sat in the small circular open cubby between her large staircases. Running to the old woman, who still surprisingly hadn't noticed her entrance.

"Rosie!" Opal exclaimed, her voice filled with joy and relief.

Rosie, now noticing the woman she hadn't seen in a decade, gasped and stood quickly. "Opal?!" Her arms immediately wrapped around the younger woman's body, pulling her into a warm hug. "Where have you been? Alastor has been a mess without you, sweetheart." She said, before gasping once more. "Alastor. Oh. He will be overdelighted when hearing about your return."

Opal could feel the tears welling up in her eyes already at the thought of seeing her husband once again. "Where is he? Do you know?" She asked desperately, her voice trembling.

Hearing a shattering noise behind her, Opal's body snapped around. A sob wracked through her body, her hands flying to her mouth.

"Doll?" His rough, crackly voice echoed in her head. The small white teacup that was once in his hands now lay smashed into a thousand tiny pieces on the ground.

"Oh Al-" She sobbed, running up to him and jumping into his arms, which tightly wrapped around her waist.

Her head leaned back as she planted her lips on his quickly and aggressively, his rough lips matching hers with equal fervor. Pulling back, he placed small kisses all over her face, causing her to giggle through her tears.

"What happened? Where did you go? Where did that bastard take you?" He quickly asked, staring into her eyes so deeply that she was speechless.

"I'm a Seraphim Angel." She blurted, unknowing of what to say, her voice trembling with a mix of emotions.

"What?" His grin, which had almost always been on his face, dropped.

"God chose me as one of his Seraphim angels. I don't know why or how, but-" Her voice was cut off by Alastor's as he shook his head.

"My love, I don't know what to say. But what I do know is that you are not leaving me again." He stated, leaving no room for discussion.

Shaking her head, she agreed with him. "I'm never leaving you ever again."

While the two shared a special moment, Rosie stood behind them, a smile on her face as she watched her favorite beloved couple reunite.

"Rosie, my dear. I will be taking my leave now." Alastor's voice broke Rosie out of her trance as she nodded understandingly.

"Of course. You two have so much to catch up on. But do come back so we can talk." Rosie winked at the two, before watching them leave.

"Are you ready to go see your new home, my darling?" Alastor asked his wife as he looked down at her, love filling his eyes and his smile soft.

"Mhm." She hummed and nodded, her smile bright and big.

Shadows covered the happy reunited couple as they held each other close, her head laying on his chest while his hands lay on her hips.

Once the shadows uncovered the couple, Opal took in the setting. A large open red hotel called 'Hazbin Hotel' stood before them, its neon sign flickering ominously. The building was imposing, yet there was a sense of warmth and familiarity that made her feel at ease.

"Welcome to your new home, my dear." Alastor said softly, his voice filled with pride and love.

[newwritergirl]

Starting over | Part 19

Materlist

Summary: The pilots are finally on their way back home. Y/n can't wait to finally have Bradley and Jake back for good. But a looming shadow is out there to destroy everything, to destroy her.

Trigger warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, attempt SA, violence against women, blood, injuries, throwing up, language

A/N: This chapter is really heavy, please read the warnings!!! Thanks for the support :)

Word Count:4.2k +

Two weeks. It is Monday and Bradley and Jake are gone for two weeks now. Both aviators dearly miss their girlfriend and with not being able to contact her in any way their yearning increased every day they stayed on the carrier. But to be honest, at least they have themselves. Y/n on the other hand was alone. Okay, not really alone, she has Bob and Javy back home but Hangman and Rooster suppose that her nights alone must have been really lonely for the young woman. They just hope that everything is okay back home, that their girlfriend his healthy, physically as well as mentally.

"Lieutenant Commanders, take a seat!" The Commander of the aircraft carrier sits at his small desk in the belly of the big Navy ship.

"First of all I want to thank you for your good work the last two weeks. As you know we are on our way back to the mainland which means that you will leave us." The Commander tells them. They already know that their deployment is finally over and that they will be back home in the next hours. Thank God. Both aviators can't wait to see their girl shortly.

After the last meeting with the commanding officer of the aircraft carrier they start to pack their bags and literally count the last hours on the cramped ship.

---

To say Monday started crazy was an understatement. The whole datacenter of the Navy base had failed and y/n tried her best to keep the damage at bay. She had countless phone calls with It-support members of other Navy bases but even in the late afternoon she knows that she has to stay much longer to get everything back on track.

"You're still here, sunshine?! What happened to make it a short Monday?" Bob says when he steps into her office. He just ended the flight training with Javy and the recruits and had a short talk with Mav. Fortunately the older man told him that he banned Welsh from the base and gave him an arduous task to do at home. Evaluating flight data is the perfect assignment to do from home and to make it even harder to take for Welsh, Mav called him numerous times during the day to check how much he really worked at home. He just hoped he can keep up the charade until the Admiral is back in some days.

"Hey Bobby. What can I say, I wanted to stick to the plan, but then the whole datacenter broke down. I'm still trying to save some lost data. Probably until midnight…" Y/n says with an exhausted sigh. She was more than tired but she can't just leave for the night when she knows that her task is not finished yet.

"Ehm…did you hear something from Jake and Bradley? I mean, did Maverick tell you something?" The young woman looks up from her computer and into the warm eyes of her aviator friend.

"Hey. What's that sad look, sunshine. It's already two weeks. They will be back soon, believe me. Mav just mentioned that there was no message that their deployment will be extended. So I guess you will hear from them in the next days." Bob tries to reassure her. Unfortunately the pilots were not able to contact their friends and family back home to tell them they're on their way back, so it will probably be a huge surprise when they step into the base tomorrow.

"Okay, that's good news, isn't it? They will not be away for more weeks?" Y/n asks hesitantly. She doesn't want to come across too desperate but after the Welsh disaster she is more than ready for her boyfriends to be back home. The feeling of being unsafe and watched just increased over the last days even when she stayed the weekend with Robert.

Bob takes a step around y/n's desk and squeezes her shoulder softly. "No, in that case the Commander of the carrier would've messaged Mav or the Admiral. After all we are short staffed because Nat, Rooster and Hangman are away."

---

Bob left shortly after y/n reassured him that he can leave her alone. She doesn't want keep him any longer at base and she drove herself to work so there's no reason for Bob to stay any longer at work than necessary. Of course she has a bad feeling in the back of her mind but she tries to keep her panic and bad feelings at bay. She is a grown woman, she has to stay strong for God's sake.

The vibration of her mobile which lays beside her on her desk makes her flinch. The last days she didn't receive any anonymous messages but the bad feeling lingers still in her mind. She hesitantly grabs her phone but lets out a sigh of relief when she sees the sender of the message:

Pete Mitchell: Hello y/n, I hope you're already at home and not still at base. Please don't stress yourself over the lost data… Well I have good news, I just got an Email from the Commanding Officer of the USS Harry Truman and told me, that Rooster, Hangman and Phoenix will be back home tomorrow.

She can't believe her eyes and read the text more than three times. Jake and Bradley are coming back tomorrow?

Y/n: Hello Mav, thank you so much. That are really good news. And yes I'm still at base but I'm almost finished with saving the data.

Pete Mitchell: Y/n, please go home. We don't want you overworked or getting sick from the stress. Please go home!

Y/n: Yes Sir! Thank you for the good news. See you tomorrow. Tell Penny I say 'hi'!

Pete Mitchell: Of course. Good night!

They're really coming back. A warm feeling is spreading through her body. The painful feeling of loneliness and missing her boys is finally over. The young woman decides to call it a night to be somewhat rested when Jake and Bradley come back tomorrow. She can't help herself but imagine finally sleeping with them in one of their beds again. Their warm bodies caging her in a blanket of love and warmth. Y/n smiled to herself as she starts to pack her bag and shutting off her computer for the day when a loud bang startles her.

She knows this noise, it's the metal door of the back entrance of the office building. She absolutely hates it when someone bangs the heavy door it always startles her when she's deep in thought during work. But now it's different. It's too late for someone being at the office building, Mav, Javy and Bob are already at home and the Admiral is still at the conference. Her heart starts to beat a bit faster when she thinks about the person who enters the office building that late in the evening. Could it be a recruit who forgot something and just came back? Or it's Bob looking after her and wants to give her a lecture that she's still at work. Y/n hurries and shoves all her stuff in her bag but she lets out a shriek when her office door suddenly opens with a bang, hitting the wall.

Her eyes widen in surprise and fear.

"Hello, darling. I knew you would be here when I checked your home and this pile of junk of a car was not there" The man kicks the door shut and steps closer to her. Y/n stands behind her desk frozen in shock. What is he doing here? He is not supposed to be here.

"Cat got your tongue? You're getting ruder, darling. Not talking to me… bawling your eyes out and playing the damsel in distress for Maverick… You know what happened?"

Welsh rounds the desk, making y/n back away but there's no way she can go, her back is nearly at the wall behind her. The young woman's body starts to shake, she feels like a small animal cornered by her biggest enemy. She looks at the ground not daring to look the man in front her in the eyes.

"ANSWER ME!" Daniel screams and now stands so close to y/n, nearly toe to toe, making her jump. Big hands are shoving her shoulders, her back hitting the wall painfully behind her. Fortunately she can prevent her head from making contact with the wall. She needs a clear head, she needs to form a plan to escape before the man in front of her escalates further. Y/n knows that she has to look up and talk to him. Her ex always escalated when she stayed silent and didn't look at him. She slowly lifts her head. An ugly smile is spreading on Welsh's face when her gaze lands on his face. She can feel her whole body shaking like the temperature fell under the freezing point. The man takes another step closer if this is even possible and grabs y/n's chin painfully in one of his hands, squeezing and lifting her face further. His face is so close to hers that she can smell and feel his hot breath.

"Please…" An almost inaudible plea tumbles out of her mouth. She pinches her eyes shut. This has to be a dream. Maybe she fell asleep at her desk or even at home in one of the boys' beds. This can't be happening to her, not again.

"Oh she actually can talk." Welsh laughs into her face his tight grip on her face never loosening. "So, I like my women polite and 'please' is just the right start."

A tear is making down the way over her cheek. Y/n feels the blood rushing in her ears and her heart painfully hammering in her ribcage. Her body is in escape mode. She needs to flight out of this situation but she feels like she's glued to the spot. Where could she even go? The bigger man in front of her has her in an iron grip and is blocking her way with his whole body caging her against the wall behind her.

"Darling, why the crocodile tears? I know you want it just as much…" He licks over her right cheek, tasting her salty tear.

With all her strength she tries to shove Welsh away from her. Bile is creeping up her throat after she felt his tongue licking over her cheek. She catches him by surprise when she pushes him away and he stumbles a step backwards. But before she can make a beeline to escape his looming shadow he pushes her forcefully against the wall. This time she has no chance to catch herself and her head bangs painfully against the wall, leaving her dazed and with a ringing in her ears. Before she can get her bearings back a big hand is squeezing her throat and keeping her once more in place.

"Always playing hard to get, but at home you're fucking two Navy men." He squeezes a bit harder, his rage clearly audible in his voice. Y/n struggles for breath, scratching at the man's hands which have her in a bruising grasp. So he clearly knows that she is in a relationship with Jake and Bradley. But y/n couldn't care less, in that moment she just tries to fight for her life. When her eyes start to roll back into her head due to oxygen deprivation Welsh loosens his tight grip he has around her throat.

"Oh no, darling. We are not going to sleep." And with a hard slap to her face he brings her back to reality. Her head flies to the side and she instantly feels her cheek bruising and her head ringing. The taste of iron is spreading in her mouth. His loosening hand makes her sputter for air. With painful gasps she tries to get as much oxygen in her lungs. She is not a stranger to pain and no stranger to these situations. The huge amount of pain she already has endured is enough to fill more than only one life. Here she is again, at the hands of a monster with no way to escape.

"You really have a thing for pilots, don't you? But these cowards you have at home… now you have a real man here. Did they fuck you here at base? I bet not…" Welsh grabs her painfully strong at her shoulders to maneuver her to her desk but y/n kicks out her legs and smashes her smaller fists into his chest.

"You fucking bitch…" The man gets more furious with the woman fighting back. He tosses her smaller body with so much force that her forehead ends up on the wooden desk with a loud crack and she stays face down on the furniture she worked at only minutes ago. The already lingering pain in her head only increasing with the huge force her head cracked on the wood. A small puddle of blood is already forming under her head. It feels like her head is on fire shrouded in blanket of painful fog. A loud cry is piercing through her office when she feels Welsh's fist connecting to her lower back. She must've blacked out from the pain in her kidney where his punch was placed strategically. He grabs a fistful of her hair when he bends over the small woman laying on the hardwood desk, whispering into her right ear. "I prefer sluts like you six feet under, but I'm really happy that Michael was too dumb to finish what he started. I think you have potential to become a good little pet." His hot breath makes her shudder.

He knows everything of her, he knows her past, her pain and her traumas. And he's using it against her now. His words make her head spin even more and she closes her eyes to ease the severe dizziness. She's sure that she has a concussion and now and also some damage to her lower back and at worst to her damaged kidney too. With a sudden shove he flips y/n on her back and his hand is instantly back around her throat keeping her in place. The young woman is almost certain that she's not going to survive this evening. She sees the pure rage and hate in the eyes of the man towering above her, holding her in the laying position on her desk.

Welsh is satisfied when he sees the blood dripping down y/n's face and her bruised cheek where he slapped her earlier. 

"You know y/n y/ln, the first time I saw your cute ass and beautiful face I just knew that you were a slut." Welsh steps between her legs. With all her strength the woman tries to shut her legs but still dazed and oxygen deprived she can't seem to have the slightest chance against the evil man.

"Such a good body…" Daniel loosens his grip around her throat making her sputter again for air. His hands wander down her body, stroking over arms. The hot touch of his big hands make her shudder. It's nothing compared to the loving touch of her two boyfriends. His touch feels dangerous, painful and absolutely disgusting. His hands stroking up and down her shaking arms, he clearly enjoys y/n's desperate look and the tears streaming down her face. He grabs the collar of her white blouse and with one forceful pull he ribs it open, exposing her heaving chest.

"STOP!" Y/n screams and tries to punch the man with her fist. She can catch him in his face with her fist but unfortunately not strong enough to cause any damage.

Her attempt to fight him makes him only more furious and another hard slap lands on her already bruised face, this time catching her higher near her eye.

"You fucking bitch…" His other fist lands a painful punch on her side. She is sure he cracked some of her ribs. Gasping for breath and whimpering y/n whishes Michael had killed her years ago but images of her boyfriends come to her mind. The countless happy moments, their warm embraces, their strong but not dangerous holds they had on her during the night. She needs to fight. She needs to fight to come back to them. She doesn't want to be a victim and sure as hell she doesn't want Welsh to kill her.

With one of her hands she searches for the heavy paperweight she has on her desk. Jake and Bradley gave it to her last year for her birthday. It's shaped like a plane and made of bronze. Both were so proud that they found that useless thing on a junk market. Her fingertips touch the cold metal figure but she is not close enough to grab it and bring it into her hand. When she hears a zipper being pulled down she looks up and sees Welsh opening his trousers. It's now or never. She stretches her arm a bit ignoring the pain in her back and her ribcage where her ribs are probably broken. But it's still not enough to embrace her chosen weapon with her small hand. With another glimpse at the man towering over her she sees him distracted, fumbling with his crotch and his briefs. She has to act fast otherwise he steals the last spark of dignity from her. With a sudden move she raises one of her legs and kicks as hard as she can, hitting Welsh directly into his crotch. With a loud scream he scrambles back. Distracted from the pain in his private parts y/n is finally able to get the paperweight from her desk. In a daze, like she's observing the whole scenario like a bystander, she pushes herself up from her laying position on her desk and smashes the bronze figure on Daniel's head. With a loud thud he falls to the ground, his hands still holding his crotch. Y/n is out of breath, her lungs painfully squeezing themselves but she has no time to catch her breath she needs to run. She can't wait for Welsh to come to and grabbing her again. The young woman holds her hand to her broken ribs and with her other hand she fists her bag and stumbles in the direction of the closed office door.

---

 The drive home in Bradley's Bronco was a blur for y/n. She doesn't even know how she got to the parking lot and when she recognizes the driveway of their shared home it's more than a miracle that she was really able to get there without crashing the car. The Bronco comes to an abrupt stop, standing in y/n's beloved rose bed in their front yard with one tire. During the whole drive she didn't seem to feel the majority of the pain but now stumbling out of then car she cries out when she strains her back too much. Welsh punched her really heavy into her damaged kidney and now she's certain that at least some of her ribs are broken. Breathing is getting more difficult and her heart doesn't seem to stop racing when she fumbles with the keys to unlock the front door. Tears are blurring her vision, the concussion is making her head swim more and the dizziness makes it nearly impossible to take a steady step into the house when she's finally able to open the door. After locking the door behind her she stumbles into her bedroom, not bothering to turn on the light. It's already dark outside but y/n has no idea what time it is. For how long did Welsh assaulted her? Minutes, hours? Is it still evening or already night? The clock on her night table reads 11:56 pm but the whites spots dancing in front of her eyes make it impossible for her to see properly. Her hands are still shaking badly but she manages to lock her bedroom door. Too afraid that Welsh is looking for her and tries to break into their house. She stumbles further into her bedroom but on the way to her bathroom her knees give out and with a painful thud she falls to the floor. A heart wrenching sob escapes her throat. She still feels Welsh's hands chocking her until she was on the verge of unconsciousness, his hot disgusting touch roaming over her arms before he ripped her blouse. She feels the nausea coming back. Y/n knows she needs to throw up in the next minutes so she crawls the rest of the way into her bathroom and finally empties her stomach into the toilet in front of her. The heaves are painful and it feels like it's ripping her broken ribs apart further. Her heartbeat is painfully hammering in her head.

With a shaking hand she wipes the cold sweat from her forehead. A searing pain makes her hand withdrawal from her head and another loud sob is heard in the bathroom when she sees her bloody hand coming back from her forehead. She's bleeding. Y/n remembers now how hard she banged her head on her desk when Welsh pushed her forcefully. In trance she looks at her trembling bloody hand, pictures of the recent abuse of the evil navy pilot dancing in front of her eyes, tears falling into her lap. Her gaze lands on her ripped blouse and despite the shock she has another reality sinking in: He tried to rape her. He ripped her blouse, he was ready to hurt her further, he already pulled his zipper down, ready to attack.

No longer strong enough to hold her aching body up she lets herself sink onto the cold tiles of the bathroom, weeping breathlessly. The cold tiles which are pressing against her cheek are soothing the pain she feels in her head.

---

Y/n doesn't know how she rested on the cold floor, neither does she know if she passed out or just fell asleep out of exhaustion. She slowly blinks her eyes open and is instantly greeted with pain. Her whole body feels like she is on fire, burning from the inside. She once more is aware of the blood on her hands and her chest. Her head wound must've bled more when she was unconscious.

Y/n sheds her ripped blouse from her shoulders, getting rid of one of the evidences that what happened to her earlier wasn't a painful dream. She looks down at her upper body. Huge hand shaped bruises littering her shoulders and arms. She still feels his disgusting touch so she crawls over to her shower and tries to get into a standing position. The young woman wants to wash away his touch, her blood, she wants to wash away the whole attack.

"J-Jake…Braad…" she whispers to no one. She knows that she needs help, probably medical attention. Y/n needs her boyfriends.

On shaky legs she stumbles into the shower and turns on the water before she slumps down again in too much agony to stay standing any longer. The warm spray of water soothing her tense muscles but the pain stays in her body like a bad omen. When the spray finally hits her head the water is slowly turning crimson, washing away some of the remains of the recent events.

Y/n stays in the shower until the water is slowly turning cold and she starts to shake violently, now from the ice cold water and not only from the shock of the events.

When she finally succeeds to turn off the spray of water she crawls out of the wet shower and wraps herself into her fluffy towel as best as she can.

There she is, laying on the floor shaking like a leaf in her wet underwear in only a towel, slowly slipping into unconsciousness.

---

"Bobby!" Phoenix squeals when she sees her friend in the distance.

"Hey, you're finally home." Robert embraces Nat into a tight hug. Since they're all permanent at the base stationed and instructors for new Navy pilots the Dagger Squad are a very tight knit group and these last two weeks separated once more showed them all how dearly they miss their friends when being apart.

"I wouldn't call this shithole home, Bob." Bradley grumbles but pats Bob's shoulder in a friendly manner.

"Oh come on. This base is homey, the carrier was a shit hole." Nat laughs at Rooster's bad mood and she knows for certain who pissed in his cereals. He wants nothing more than to see y/n and is more than pissed that the trip home took them a bit longer due to bad weather.

Jake squeezes the shoulder of his partner in a reassuring manner. He also can't wait to see y/n, to kiss and hug her as tight as possible.

"Come on Rooster. Let's surprise y/n. She's in her office isn't she?" The blonde aviator asks Bob when all four of them make their way towards the office building.

"I think so, it's…" Robert looks at his watch, "…already 0930. Didn't have the chance to see her today. The crabs were eating our nerves today. You owe us, me and Javy." The younger man chuckles.

@djs8891

@darksparklesficrecs

@nerdgirljen

@abaker74

@crazyunsexycool

@itsarabellebabes

@lyn-js