#i want her to be angry that she dared to sacrifice herself for her

[crabbunch]

persona games really love to throw out the most compelling concepts for characters that threaten to violently rip out all of your organs and then trip over themselves because. surely women cannot have meaningful character arcs. please i only want to contemplate the horror of having your mind rewritten and complex sibling relationships

[s-awturn]

Moon Spell || CS55

summary: They were fated to love someone they hated. There was no spell, no grudge, no curse that could break the bond that united them, doomed to die in the feelings they fiercely nurtured. The Moon had determined it and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

“These violent pleasures have violent ends, and die in their triumph, like fire and gunpowder, which, when they kiss, consume each other. The sweetest honey is disgusting in its own sweetness, and its taste confuses the palate.”

cw: Violence, conflict, soulmates, blood, magic, alternate universe, obscenity, pure filth, chaos, fighting, swearing, intense hatred, love, mention of death, blood.

a/n: This came to celebrate Carlos' birthday and to open the new phase of my profile. This is supposed to have five chapters, no more, no less. I don't know what else to say, so read on!

starring: werewolf!Carlos x witch!Fem reader

Part One: We Were Born To Die

”Choose your last words, this is the last time 'Cause you and I, we were born to die”

Europe, 1498.

She packed all her belongings into a deep leather bag, threw in crystals, grimoires, a few candles, and other magical items; she couldn't stay there long, her hiding place had been discovered and soon crazy fanatics would be there to drag her to the stake. She couldn't waste her family's sacrifice in keeping her alive.

“Let's go, Spix, let's not wait for those madmen to take us to the fire or the gallows” she said, picking up the cat and putting it in the basket. Toledo was no longer a safe place, in fact there was no safe place, with the frightening religious fanaticism that the kings of Spain were feeding, everyone was suspected of witchcraft and heresy, women were dragged to the catacombs of churches and were never seen again.

S/N saw husbands hand over their wives, fathers hand over their daughters, everyone wanted the silver coins that the Church was offering. She needed to get away from this, S/N knew that her neighbors were suspicious of her, a woman living alone on the outskirts of the village attracted attention. She couldn't leave any room for bad luck.

She threw a black cape over her simple dress, tightened her boots, and left the house, saying goodbye silently. That house where her parents lived their entire lives, where she herself spent her life, would soon be burned down, so many memories would be turned into ashes; He didn't look back, he clutched the bag under his arm and ran into the woods, listening to Spix's meows, nestled in the bag.

The moonlight illuminated her steps, ensuring that she managed to avoid roots and holes in the ground and it wasn't long before she heard the angry shouts of the villagers, She hid behind a thick trunk and saw the torches shining in the darkness, they cried out the name of God, calling her a witch and accusing her of heresy. S/N heard her door being broken down.

It wouldn't be long before they noticed her absence and went hunting for her in the forest. She needed to run far away, get away from poor fanatics after a few dozen silver coins. Her life wasn't worth that.

She made her way to a remote part of the forest, where wolves and other wild animals hid. No villager would dare to go there, after all, no one wanted to become wolf food.

When she passed through the oak arch, a shiver shook her insides, S/N looked at the sky and the Moon shone so brightly that it illuminated small patches of darkness in the forest, and a thought made her stop: It was a full moon night and the werewolves would go out to hunt.

She was vulnerable in the middle of the woods, with only a small dagger in the pocket of her cloak and her magic. Anyway, she hoped that no werewolves would cross her path, or she would have a lot of problems besides angry Catholics.

She went deeper into the forest, even Spix's meows fell silent. In fact, there was no sound at all, the wind did not cut through the trees, the leaves did not rustle, not even the nocturnal animals screeched in their hiding places. Until a deep sound echoed, an angry growl that betrayed hunger.

Y/N gripped the dagger with trembling fingers, witches and werewolves had hated each other since the first dawn, if it really was a hungry werewolf there, she would love to devour her, just for the pleasure of destroying her; he took a deep breath and ran between the trees, whatever it was, he wasn't going to risk staying there, even though turning his back was already a high risk.

She ended up in a clearing completely lit by the moon, the exact same clearing where she and her mother used to perform rituals to thank the goddess for the harvest and the coven celebrated.

But that was before Ferdinand and Isabella began their persecution. Before she saw her friends burn at the stake, her parents die on the gallows.

A dark bark stopped her in the middle of the clearing, Y/N heard the branches being broken and the frightening sound of teeth chattering. Her heart accelerated painfully, she was terrified, maybe she could make the roots hold him, but her magic wasn't strong enough for that.

Her magic core was weak and did not have enough strength to channel forces of nature. She would have to make do with an iron dagger and the help of the goddess.

— ☽ —

It was the night of the full moon and he could feel the effects surging through his body since early on, and there was a strange feeling present in his chest. Carlos felt that something was going to happen that night, and it wouldn't just be the milestone of his thirty years of age.

He saw his father cross the small village with a group of refugees, religious madness had arrived in those parts and was terrorizing his people, there was no one who did not fear being dragged into the church basement. No one wanted to be tortured and killed.

“Stop daydreaming and go help your sister, that roof is still going to fall on her head” he heard his mother order.

“Where is her husband? That’s that lazy bastard’s responsibility,” he questioned, but received a click of his tongue in return. He growled in irritation, Carlos would beat up his brother-in-law as soon as he could. And he wouldn't care about his sister's crying or his father's lecture.

He trudged over to his sister's shack, seeing Blanca hanging from the roof, hammering some nails into the central beam. This only made him growl even more, he really was going to punch his brother-in-law in the face as soon as he got the chance.

“Blanca, what the hell are you doing there?" He stopped far enough away to see his sister, Blanca wiped the sweat on her forehead and glared at him mockingly.

“I think I'm baking bread, what do you think?” she retorted sarcastically.

“And where is your useless husband? He must be sleeping…”

“Don't talk about him like that, you know his health is fragile” She tries to defend her husband, but this only increases Carlos' irritation.

“He's a werewolf, Blanca, the only fragile thing about him is his will to work” Carlos growled “Get down from there, I'll take care of this, since your husband is as useless as a leaky bucket!”

The woman came down from the roof, and Carlos took her place, still complaining about his sister's husband and insisting on hammering the boards hard, not caring if it would wake the sleeping man. Work distracted him from the strange feeling in his chest, he didn't know how the full moon night would end, but he knew something would happen.

Only when the sun began to set on the horizon did Carlos finish repairs to his sister's house — not without landing two hard punches in the face of his brother-in-law who dared to complain about the noise. He needed to prepare, As it was the first night of the full moon, the effects would be more intense, and he needed to prepare his body and mind to allow the beast to command him.

As night fell, Carlos felt the involuntary spasms and his gums itched, the bones in his legs and arms cracked painfully, anticipating the metamorphosis.

And of course, the sensation increased along with the discomfort, the beast inside him scratched the walls, howling as if it was foretelling something. Maybe it was the villagers appearing on the edge of their land, maybe it was the witches who had returned, it could be anything.

Any damn thing.

When the transformation, he began to run between the trees, smelling the wet grass, the animals nestled in their dens, Carlos felt the wet earth under his feet and when he realized it, he was running on four legs, his peripheral vision was greater and his sense of smell could perceive things dozens of meters away.

He stopped abruptly and howled at the full moon, announcing the arrival of his birthday. That morning Carlos had turned thirty and there was nothing like fresh venison to celebrate.

He sniffed the air, searching for his prey and licked his sharp teeth when he caught the scent of a fox lurking in the bushes. The huge wolf followed the scent into the clearing, his eyes fixed on the distracted fox, he was about to pounce when a different scent filled the air.

The sweet scent of lavender and lemon hit his nose like a blow, disorienting the lycanthrope and he turned his skull, searching for the source of the smell and It wasn't long before the leaves on the far edge of the clearing parted and revealed a girl. Up close, her scent was more striking, more mystical.

Witch.

He growled, angry that she had disrupted his hunt and stirred his senses. His heart was pounding and he studied the girl, she was running away and looked terrified, the witch was sweating under her thick cloak and breathing quickly, her eyes scanning the trees and the wolf knew she was aware of his presence.

He could hear her heart beating and the wind started to blow again, carrying her scent to him and he growled, torn between wanting to smell her up close and killing her.

Werewolves had been killing witches since the beginning of time and his nature insisted that he rip out the girl's little neck. She pulled out a small metal dagger and he grunted with laughter, the little witch really thought an iron dagger would stop him.

He was eager to see her try.

With a powerful leap, the werewolf stopped in front of her, seeing her gasp in fright, her heartbeat increasing to the point of occupying all of the creature's sensitive hearing.

That was his feeling, somehow someone would die that night, either him or the little witch, after all that was the final outcome — regardless of how many ages his existence could drag on, at some point he would die. And the little witch too.

After all, all creatures are born to die.

But fate changed its course along with the path of the wind as soon as the wolf met the witch's eyes.

That could only be a bad joke from the Moon.

[zuppizup]

July 1st – Thinking of You Under Every Full Moon

Callum watched Rayla and her parents, smiling softly as they embraced once again. She still looked a bit awkward, a bit unsure, but he couldn’t deny she looked happy.

The nausea and weakness brought on by the spell continued to linger, but all things considered, he was happy too. It was hard not to be, seeing Rayla smile like she was.

Ethari joined him, eyes on the trio as well.

“Thank you once again, Callum.” Ethari spoke softly, inclining his head in a bow.

Callum continued to look at Rayla, shaking his head. “It was-” Well, it wasn’t really nothing. The spell had been hard work, the white streak of hair framing his face a testament to that, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat for Rayla.

He’d done it for her. He’d do anything for her.

Her parents, Ethari and Runaan owed him nothing.

“I never thought I’d see them again. Any of them. These two years… have been long. Lonely.” Ethari sighed, ducking his head. “I am glad Rayla had you for support in this time. I wouldn’t have liked-”

“She didn’t have me.” Callum responded instinctively, turning sharply to look at Ethari. “Or, well, she-” What, she could have, if she hadn’t left without him. He wasn’t angry or upset about that anymore though, but he was sorrowful. He didn’t like to think of Rayla being alone for those two years.

Fighting and struggling by herself. Being cold and hungry.

All alone, with no-one for help or support. No-one to talk to or laugh with.

No-one…

“Pardon?” Ethari asked, shaking Callum from his thoughts.

“She was alone.” Callum turned fully to face him, angry. Angry at the culture that had raised Rayla to think that such a sacrifice was necessary. That it was noble. “It was a gift, apparently.” He couldn’t help the sneer that snuck into his voice, contempt for this particular cultural trait leaking free. “Protecting me from danger, while running full speed towards it herself.”

Ethari blinked at him, his mouth agape.

Shocked, Callum supposed. At what, he couldn’t tell. Nor did he particularly care to.

“And I know you’ve undone the Ghosting spell, I know you’re sorry, but none of the rest of them are, are they?” Callum raised his chin, challenging Ethari to disagree.

Ethari sighed, looking small and reserved for such a tall broad man. “Undoing a Ghost spell is almost unheard of-”

Callum huffed, looking away from him and back to Rayla. “I’m going to ask her to marry me. When all this is over, when it’s time to rest. I want her to come home. To Katolis.”

“You have my blessing.” Ethari spoke quickly, not seeming surprised by this declaration. “I dare say that of Runaan and her parents as well. After everything-”

Callum didn’t even look back at him as he made his way to join Rayla. “I don’t need it.”

[shikiii-skadi]

Oooh~ I saw: what they would they act like if they had a crush with some fate characters. Would it be possible to get some ones with Artoria pendragon, Penthesilia, Caenis, and Martha?

includes: artoria pendragon (saber), caenis (lancer), penthesilia (berserker) warnings: none

Artoria Pendragon:

Artoria takes pride in the close bond you and her share as Servant and Master, as she believes that unconditional trust is one of the most important aspects of your relationship.

She wants to protect you and is always ready to sacrifice herself if necessary.

Artoria always respects your wishes and would discuss everything with you beforehand. And she expects that in turn, you would do the same for her.

In the beginning, when her feelings for you develop, she is somewhat oblivious to her own feelings. She would think it's just because of your friendship and master-servant relationship.

The moment she realizes her feelings, it hits her like a truck. It wasn't even that it was anything special that you did or said. It was a simple smile you gave her. Artoria could feel her heart beating faster and the desire inside her to see you smile like that forever.

Artoria felt a little more shy around you after this realization.

She is worried that feelings might interfere with your Servant-Master relationship, but ultimately she knows that you have a strong bond with each other based on mutual trust. Even if she confessed her feelings to you and you didn't feel the same, she was sure that your friendship wouldn't change. So she would take the plunge and confess her love to you.

Penthesilea:

Penthesilea was very conflicted by her arising feelings for you, it would take her a good while to acknowledge them and even longer to accept them.

Penthesilea is a warrior. Her worst trauma was being called beautiful instead of being recognized as a fearsome opponent. The world would have to end five times before she would even think of swooning over you like a pure maiden.

It would take a lot of time and patience from you and a few other more empathetic Servants to make her realize that love doesn't make her soft or “feminized”. She is a berserker, you will have a tough time getting through to her in that regard.

She generally treats you the same way as before, she sees no reason to treat you differently just because she is in love with you.

Despite empathetic words from others or enough time to fully understand and accept her feelings. Penthesilea wouldn't confess her feelings to you first. You could be the most oblivious person in the world or simply not have the courage to confess, she still wouldn't give in and make the first move.

Caenis:

Another one who would not acknowledge or accept that she had caught feelings for you.

To catch her attention, you will need to have a strong character. A strong goal she can resonate with, or the ability to withstand everything that comes your way no matter how dire the situation may look.

Caenis is very blunt and straightforward. If she thinks something you thought of or did was stupid, she will tell you straight away without masking her words, even if it might hurt your feelings.

She is in general pretty rude to you. Part because it's just who she is and another part because of her denial of her growing fondness for you.

If Caenis confesses to you, it would be an angry confession, that was not planned at all. For example in the midst of battle, an opponent servant nearly killed you, causing Caenis to fall into a stage of complete fury. First, she would kill the servant, not leaving even the faintest fragment of them intact, while screaming at them how they could dare to hurt you and every known curse word.

After that her fury would be directed at you. Telling you very harshly how stupid you were and that if it wasn't for her, you would be dead by now.

Honestly, you probably don't have either the time nor the state of mind right now to fully process what just happened.

[it-is-theatre-my-dudes]

No one ever talks about Rachel’s mental breakdown during HOO and the amount of trauma she faced in TOA, so I would like to be the one who breaks the ice.

So previously in PJO Rachel successfully takes over the role of the Oracle of Delphi. Not because she necessarily has to, but because she has nothing to lose anyways. She finally becomes a member of Camp Half-Blood, though some campers avoid her out of fear. She learns to deal with them by pretending to be nonchalant about it, but the words and conspiracy affect her enough that when Piper faints in TLO, Rachel immediately begins to panic and thinks that she killed her. But despite the mishaps, she genuinely believed that Camp Half-Blood was her home.

Then the main events of HOO happened, and Rachel realised how dispensable she really is. People at camp start turning on her for losing her powers. On the outside, she pretends to be fine, but internally she freaks out, loses control, and throws a tantrum in her cave, destroying the paintings she drew of visions because they were a taunt of what she used to possess in the past. She destroys the painting of Apollo because at her most vulnerable moment, the god she trusted the most wasn’t there. She was truly alone, with no Percy or Annabeth, no Nico, and no gods to help her.

When she finally sees Apollo again he is banished into the mortal world and she‘s too tired to even be angry at him. She had just seen someone sacrifice themselves to save her, and she couldn’t bring herself to worry about Apollo. But then he mentions his oracles. Multiple of them. Once again she realises just how dispensable she is, and this is one of the rare occasions where we actually see Rachel being genuinely angry, though Rick passed it off as a comical scene.

Rachel opts to go with Apollo on his quest. She wants to take the risk despite knowing that she’d likely be kidnapped and used as bait. Apollo rejects her volunteer, and once again she is shunned by both the greek and mortal world. She spends the next few months in a constant state of restlessness, worrying about her fate if Python wins, anxious that he has already taken over her mind.

Six months. Rachel Elizabeth Dare spent six months leaning on the edge of her sanity, maniacally painting drawings so she wouldn’t lose her mind. And when asked about her trauma, 80% of the fandom would only say “She was hated by Annabeth because she liked Percy”.

Bruh.

[drakaripykiros130ac]

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness? But now they see you as you are.”

Alicent has spent many years putting on a gentle face before Viserys and the entire Court, managing to fool a lot of people…but of course, never Rhaenyra. And in this moment, she finally showed her true colors, for which I am glad.

Seeing green stans justifying her direct attack of the Crown Princess and the Heir to the Iron Throne is just… *sigh*

She was angry that her son had been “maimed” by a small child acting in self-defense and no consequences followed. And yet she, a grown woman, expected to intentionally harm the Heir to the Iron Throne and be allowed to get away with it. And she did get away with permanently scarring Rhaenyra (not at all surprising that TG stans forget that little detail). ‘Hypocrite’ should be Alicent’s middle name.

As much as she may have been upset at what happened to Aemond, Alicent didn’t waste the opportunity to further her own agenda in this moment. Aemond was not the only one hurt in this fight. Lucerys’ nose was broken, Baela and Rhaena were bleeding, Jacaerys was close to having his head bashed with a rock (Aemond could have killed him, had Lucerys not intervened). But of course, Alicent blew a kid fight out of proportion and used her son’s injury as an excuse to continue her vendetta against Rhaenyra and her children, a vendetta she had nourished for many years. Proof enough is how she directly accused Rhaenyra of taking her son’s eye, as if Rhaenyra had anything to do with it.

Duty? Sacrifice? Rhaenyra knows those too well. She suffered in the name of duty and sacrifice for years, but Alicent refuses to believe that other people can have the same amount of problems or even worse problems than her. She thinks that just because Rhaenyra had been defended by her own father for all these years (because of course, how dare he do that! And yet Alicent wouldn’t have minded having Otto back at Court so he could do the exact same thing for her), that means that she hasn’t sacrificed anything or hasn’t endured any hardships, when clearly she has.

Alicent wants justice, does she? I wonder…what would have happened if the roles had been reversed? If Aemond had been the one to take out Lucerys’ eye? Would she have gladly handed Aemond over so his eye could be removed as payment? I don’t think so. She would have gone with the same line: “He is your son, Viserys. Your blood.”

Lucerys is Viserys’ grandson. His blood, as well. And a child much younger than Aemond.

What would have happened if Aemond had bashed Jacaerys’ head with that rock and killed him? Would Alicent have preached justice for Rhaenyra’s son?

As proven many times, Alicent preaches honor, decency, duty, justice only when it suits her political agenda. When she is the one who finds herself in a terrible situation because of her own actions, those things don’t mean anything to her anymore. When the Faith’s ideologies make her look bad, she pretends like they don’t exist.

She is nothing but an insufferable, hypocritical, jealous and deceitful woman. The moment after that treasonous attack, Viserys should have sought to dissolve his marriage and permanently remove the Hightowers from Court. It would have done everyone a lot of good.

[theladyofbloodshed]

Spoiler below

Rhys being angry at Nesta because she gave Bryce the mask

Yes, I understand it put Velaris at risk. He has a child, his family are there etc. Nesta's family are ALSO there. It is now HER city too. It was a risk that Rhys would have taken and been praised for.

Nesta met an Asteri and saw how difficult one was to kill. The Mask would give Bryce the edge on killing them. Without the mask, they had less of a chance of winning - and then Bryce could end up being used for the horn to open the portal to Velaris anyway. She weighed up the risk and acted. Rhys never saw the Asteri. Never knew how great the threat was.

For me, it wasn't that Nesta gave the Mask away, it was the fact she did it without consulting him. She didn't wait for him to arrive. But she's vehement in the book that she doesn't answer to Rhys. She is the one who wields the dread trove, not him, which likely causes friction because she still hasn't been broken in as the docile female he wants her to be.

The bonus chapter was so sad because Ember tunes into the fact that Nesta has almost resigned herself to that fate. She's always public enemy number one. I don't know if SJM did that intentionally because she's going to change Nesta's life or believes she deserves it. Ember daring to stand up to Rhys - after acknowledging he's far more powerful than the Autumn King - was so badass and I'm so glad Nesta had SOMEBODY fighting her corner. Even if Cassian did think Nesta made a bad choice, those mating instincts are meant to overpower everything. Hunt saw the word "trash" iced on a fucking croissant and went to the heart of the wolves den to fight and lost his wings as punishment . Bryce was a party girl who took drugs and slept around. He thought the same of her then. But that's his mate and he will defend her with his life.

The most powerful high lord of all time is shouting at your mate so you just let it happen. It's so cowardly. No bare minimum pushback with "that's enough Rhys".

All I got from it was that: a) Despite Nesta's sacrifice, there is still troubled water between her and Rhys b) Cassian is still a spineless, pathetic excuse of a mate c) Nesta is not truly happy there

[bonefall]

so if Mudfur kind of regretted taking Leopardstar to the clan, instead of leaving her safely with Brightsky (well, regretted might be strong word? he did felt like Shite given how she turned out).. then how did Leopardstar felt about him becoming a cleric after winning a fight with Adderfang? i know that timeline-vise she was probably a baby and probably didnt had strong opinion Yet, but like.. if she looked back at his decision, was she be disappointed? angry even?

i have seen posts with how Mudfur felt about her later, but i dont think i seen anything about how Leopardstar felt about her dad.. and maybe even her mom (if she even has memory of her or anything)

Ohh nonnie you're right. Let's talk about BB!Leopardstar.

She is absolutely ashamed of what Mudfur is. She was born after all these glorious stories of her father took place, but to say she was "raised in his shadow" would be a misstatement. She was raised with his legacy as a SETTING SUN.

It was something in the distance, just below the horizon, painting the sky in royal pink, gold, and purple. Though she had never seen the sun itself, the impacts it had on the world were breathtaking, awe-inspiringly beautiful.

And yet, the sun had hidden itself away. Its magnificence is fleeting. He had locked himself away in the Cleric's den, and acted as a Mi to herself and her sister, setting nightfall upon RiverClan

How DARE he? When you are radiant, worth SO much to your Clan as an undefeatable warrior, LEGENDARY in your strength, you should feel RESPONSIBILITY to share that warmth. But he, with only the paltry connection to StarClan of a regular warrior, had chosen "his own happiness" and forsaken RiverClan in the process.

And to be breaking your Vow as a Cleric, to be RAISING CHILDREN when you should be serving your Clan?? Had he not taken to heart the story of Larkstripe? Or respected the pain and sacrifice of Moth Flight as her children were (given/stolen/claimed/bestowed)* to the Clans?

How selfish! And Hailstar enabled him!

Leopardfur is the great-granddaughter of Volestar, who was appointed by Darkstar herself to continue her legacy in spite of any opposition from Oakstar. Volestar kept RiverClan out of the Crusades and was the ONLY outspoken opponent of the madness, adamantly defending the Queen’s Rights and asserting that her Clan was different from the other three.

Leopardstar wants to set this legacy "straight."

Darkstar, Volestar, Hailstar, and eventually Crookedstar are a line of cats who have allowed RiverClan to become weak. Clerics raising kits! Accepting help from Fireheart! Obvious violations of the Law of Loyalty! StarClan took Silverstream to TEACH CROOKEDSTAR A LESSON and yet he just allowed Graystripe to waltz right in bearing the HalfClan kits like a gift, asking him for details of his treachery.

When she took power, she was glad to finally be able to explore options for ousting Mudfur. If he wouldn't take an apprentice, then she would simply exile him and have Tigerstar's cleric train a new one.

So. She did.

Did it pain her? Yes of course, he was her Mi, after all. She does love her family, yes, yes. But she knows the meaning of the word "sacrifice," and HE does not.

[vermilionskiinmorning]

Penance | Durgetash Drabble

Summary: After Enver and durge's first time her father demands a sacrifice as recompense for disappointing him. Inspired by the durge's canon note "Forgive me Father, for I cannot help but admire the Chosen of your sworn foe." and my own headcanon about how my durge got her scars. Words: 1.5 K Enjoy!

----

At first, Feravel thought it was the sound of Enver’s beating heart that roused her from her rest, but that sound was slow and lax as he still slept. Perplexed, she lazily peeled herself from his broad muscled chest and blinked slowly peering around the dimly lit room. The windows were shut tight and curtains drawn against the coming dawn. Everything remained perfectly in place on their shelves as did the little bits of machinery littered across Enver’s desk. Their clothes were scattered across the room where they’d haphazardly landed in the heat of passion the evening before.

All was as she would expect it to be except the rushing beat of a heart. Still and silent, Feravel barely breathed as she listened until she realized it was in her own ears. Her heart was beating a rapid staccato inside her chest echoing through her. How had she not noticed her own stirring breath or the pounding in her veins?

Raising a hand to her bosom, Feravel took a few measured breaths but it did nothing to calm the hurried beating. She furrowed her brow and concentrated on the sound. It was a familiar rhythm; the sound of a victim’s heart in the moments before death. Her nostrils flared as she exhaled sharply and got to her feet. There was no rational reason for this feeling.

Why was she afraid? What could have woken her to such a state?

Feravel wanted to scream, kill, or break something anything to free herself from its grip. This had been a good night. What could possibly be the cause of this irrational fit? Tension roiled through her turning blood and sinew to ice effectively freezing her to the spot and halting her agitated pacing as realization flowed over her.

Father.

A distinct wave of disapproval enveloped her like a curtain suffocating in its weight and might. Feravel’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a vocal reaction. She could not wake Enver.

Father was angry and she was going to be punished. The chill of fear that had set her heart into a flurry even in her sleep now made perfect sense. It had been decades since she’d been punished by her father. So long she'd almost forgotten the fear.

But she should’ve known, there had been signs of his disapproval of her closeness with Bane’s Chosen. Their partnership, Bhaal tolerated, but their companionship? It was a gamble. She'd known that, but Gods was it difficult not to admire Enver -and even more tricky of late not to desire him for herself. Something she hadn’t expected, but now she would have to pay for it.

A brief wonder of whether it had been worth it flitted through her mind as her father’s presence became palpable. He did not appear to her in a physical form, but Feravel could feel that he was there. Irresistible pressure on her chin tilted her face up, holding her firmly in the hand of an unseen force. Then Bhaal's voice spoke to her inside her mind.

What will you offer me for this?

Forcing her body to relax despite the nerves running through her and slowly her heart rate dropped, Feravel steeled herself. There was, after all, nothing to do now but accept the consequences of her actions. She didn’t regret them anyway. Not truly.

Father had been displeased before. Always he had forgiven her. She was special -the blood of his blood.

“Whatever my father asks of me.”

Silence stretched from seconds to minutes as Feravel did not dare to move.

“I would kill him now if you wish.”

And she meant it. He wouldn't mind Feravel thought. Enver knew she would one day kill him and still he did not fear her -slept soundly even in her presence.

Death was the purpose for which she’d been made and for which she concocted the plot of the Absolute, to begin with. Then she and Enver would rule as the world descended into bloody ruin according to her father's will. At its screaming bitter end, then had been when she planned to kill him. To bathe herself in his life's blood, seated upon her throne of death, and only then would she return herself to her father as his most loved and favored spawn. Those were her plans though not father's. So if it was required she would make a sacrifice of Enver now -even if a small part of her hoped it would not be.

No. The Banite is useful and I anticipate he will continue to be so for a time. But, you have disappointed me. My murder child.

Her insides twisted against her will with anxiety.

This will require a sacrifice.

“Anything.” Feravel breathed the word as barely a whisper.

I gave you my blood. Made you as you are. You must bleed, my most favored spawn. Return to me a modicum of my blood and strength as payment for…this.

A pregnant pause.

Your face. I crafted it beautifully as it is in order that you may be the wolf amongst sheep. You must now bear a mark upon your flesh of what you truly are. Lest the sheep become…forgetful.

Feravel said nothing. She only acted. Glancing around the room for the correct implements to do the job, she spotted them shortly. On the desk by the window lay a blade which would serve her purposes adequately as well as a bowl, she crossed the room to fetch them. With a steady hand, Feravel raised the tip of the blade toward her face and waited for a sign or some form of instruction. Moments slipped by with nothing though as she stood poised with the bowl held below her chin and blade at the ready.

Then her hand moved of its own accord. For a fraction of an instant, Feravel fought against the under will which manipulated her limb as its own. But quickly, feeling her father’s presence in the intrusion, she submitted and gave herself over without any further protest.

Her hand maneuvered the blade with the usual expert precision, but this process was agonizingly slow. She was to suffer then. Should she try to block it out or even ignore the pain her father would be displeased. So Feravel closed her eyes and felt the pain, letting out a soft whimper of pain as another deep gouge was carved into her lip and down the length of her throat. Deep slash and cut one after the other, some long, some short, and even some which overlapped the others.

A wave of satisfaction rolled over her as the blood poured down her neck and into the bowl. Once the bowl had filled, Feravel with a small tremor lurching her movement placed it neatly on the desktop. She managed a steadying breath, but even that caused her ripples of pain and she grunted softly. It wasn’t over yet though. Blinking back stinging tears, Feravel again surrendered control of her limbs. Instead of her mouth or throat, the final piece to her punishment was expeditiously carved above her right eyebrow. Then with blood trickling down the side of her face, Feravel's body was her own once more.

Bring me the blood and you will be forgiven.

Her father’s presence disappeared as suddenly as it had come leaving Feravel standing bloody and naked in Enver’s bedroom. She blinked a droplet from her eye as she turned to observe the rise and fall of his chest in deep sleeping breaths. On his olive skin, she noted the red marks where her nails had raked down his chest in a fit of pleasure just hours before. How he’d moaned for her. It brought a small smirk to her lips even then despite the searing discomfort wrought by the expression.

Yes, she had paid for their dalliance but scars and physical hurts were nothing. So long as the addition to her face was not so unsightly in Enver’s eyes there was now no reason for them not to enjoy such activities in the future. This which they’d danced around could now be theirs. But, a flicker of doubt ran through her. Feravel hesitantly brought fingertips to her face and traced a few of the deep cuts in her flesh.

A thought of the pretty little noble ladies she’d spied him socializing with on occasion came to mind. She shut it down sharply. Those tittering birds were mere pawns on the board. There was no reason for concern or envy at any fleeting attention Enver might pay them. He couldn't possibly want anything from them with their false coquettish smiles and fluttering eyelashes. Besides, one day Feravel would kill them all. Those foolish women were naught but ash and meat next to her. She was above them all.

With that pleasing thought, she quickly set about dressing herself to return to the temple. Making the offering on the altar couldn’t wait despite her desire to stay and perhaps wake Enver for another bout of indulgence. Another time, Feravel resigned herself. A sigh escaped her lips as she took in his handsome face and naked body a final time before flicking the latch silently on the balcony doors and disappearing into the pre-dawn.

[multishipper001]

⚠️Under the oak tree spoiler from chapter 99⚠️

I catched up on the manhwa as I haven't been reading the updates for a while and BITCH THE SCREAM I LET OUT AT THIS SCENE

Ok, so, one thing you have to know is that I don't like Riftan. That man is nothing but a grown baby on steroids, and he has none of my respect. He's basically a self-centered asshole, and he seems no issue with bossing my girl Maxi around as long as he has his way.

So, as usual, Mr.Ego couldn't handle that his wife did something he didn't approve of, and like the manchild he is, he decided to use his pent up frustration to make his poor wife fucking MISERABLE.

Like DUDE. Even if the characters don't know about Maxi's backstory, it's clear as day that our girlie has issues. She finally tries opening up and standing up for herself, and this bitch, instead of helping the wife he "loves" so much, he just becomes one of her problems.

And no, I don't give a fuck how hot he looks like, a dick is a dick. Man, that guy gets a fucking meltdown whenever Maxi dares do do anything that he doesn't agree with.

Poor girl, how many times had she told Riftan that she doesn't want all the "princess treatment" and spoiling, and this fucker just DOESN'T LISTEN TO HER AT ALL. Then, obviously (:D) he gets mad that Maxi doesn't like something she stated she has no need for.

I get it, Maxi is quite fragile, especially compared to a knight, but that doesn't mean she's some helpless kid😭 every fucking character that spent time with Maxi starts noticing her development and that she's not the whiny spoiled rich kid they imagined her to be... EXCEPT FOR RIFTAN

He's supposed to be Maxi's biggest support, you know, being her HUSBAND and all, but noo, he'd have to make an effort to pull his head out of his ass, which seems to be a sacrifice he's not capable of making.

And Maxi, poor girl, she's trying SO hard to adjust to this man's whims and tantrum, but what's enough is enough. Any other woman who's been raised in a good environment would've left this man by now, but she thinks Riftan is hot stuff bc her dad was, somehow, even worse than this rat.

And THIS PART, THIS PART IN THE MANHWA

When she got mad I almost threw my phone across the room because GODDAMN FUCKING FINALLY GIRLLL

It was about damn time this ridiculous behaviour pissed you off. When I tell you I was READY for a good female-rage part to come... Which didn't, but whatever...

Being angry at people who treat you badly/abuse you is a part of recovery and I'm glad she's going forward 💕 I honestly love every character about this story...

EXPECT FOR RIFTAN. THEY COULD NEVER MAKE ME LOVE YOU, ASSHOLE

I'm a bit shocked about him, actually. Cause he's supposed to be the love interest & as a reader I'm supposed to root for him and Maxi to get together and fall in love.... If only he wasn't such a rat, it'd be easy.

Too bad his development peaked when he was five (and have been declining ever since)

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Lass es Liebe sein (Let it be love)

"Witcher," the Emperor says, and after this - nothing, for a while. He looks almost hesitant. But Emhyr var Emreis is not a hesitant man. So, him obviously pondering his next words is as strange as the fact that Geralt was summoned by the man to begin with. Geralt stands patiently beneath one of the black flags that adorn the palace walls, because patience is one of the essential qualities of a witcher. From this point of view, it doesn't matter to him whether he waits for the beast to come and take his bait after hours of hunting, or whether it’s Emhyr var Emreis. The only question is, what’s the bait. Perhaps it’s himself, which is not a very pleasant thought. The emperor sits behind his desk, legs apart, he looks way too tall to be comfortable in such a narrow space. Maybe that’s the reason he now tosses the quill on the tabletop, or it’s just Emhyr being Emhyr. The man has always been impatient, erratic even. "I want my daughter to get married," he now says.

Geralt, who’s started counting the rays of all the suns on all the flags, jerks his head around so hard, there’s a cracking sound from his neck. He’s getting old. Really, he’s getting too old for this shit. Emhyr, as if sensing impending trouble, continues speaking quickly. "The fact that you brought her back to me was a commendable achievement, despite certain… difficulties. You've always proven to be very skilled in dealing with Cirilla." This is astonishing praise, especially since it means, in a way, that Emhyr admits the difficult relationship with his own daughter. Not that Geralt didn't already know that from Ciri herself.

"You… don't want me to pick out a suitable marriage candidate, do you?" asks Geralt.

"What? Why?"

"Well," Geralt sheepishly remarks, "considering your own ideas about marriage, you might be looking for advice…"

"From you?" Emhyr's eyes seem to bulge out of their sockets.

Geralt shrugs, "Maybe that's none of my business, because it's her decision, right? Who is she to marry?"

"That's not just her decision," Emhyr reprimands him. "And it's about Morvran Voorhis."

"Why?" Geralt tilts his head.

"Why? Well, his family..."

Emhyr launches into a long-winded explanation about Voorhis' military successes and the strategic importance of this marriage, but Geralt interrupts him, "No, why do you think she would agree to marry the guy?" Emhyr leans back in his chair to regard Geralt with a look the witcher can’t interpret. Geralt ponders whether he should get angry. It would probably not be particularly advisable to get angry in the imperial palace right in front of the emperor, and not just because of the inevitable guards standing in front of and behind the only exit. But they're talking about Ciri, her future. Perhaps Geralt doesn't have too much say in the matter, and that's his own fault: after all, he persuaded her to talk to her father. If he hadn't, what would have happened? It's pointless to think about it. A witcher is committed to neutrality. Isn’t he?

"You see," Emhyr continues, "that's the entire point of this conversation. I do not, in fact, believe that she will agree to marry him, and only because out of spite."

"Of spite." Well, this certainly sounds like the mischievous girl he helped raising, Geralt thinks. But he also thinks that she knew, she fucking knew what she was getting into when she agreed to take on her heir. It’s not just saving the world, oh no. It’s being the empress-to-be with all that comes with it. Strangely enough, Geralt can see her marrying whoever for the sake of everybody else. She was ready to sacrifice way more, and any man daring enough to wed her would have a hard time, she’s just too much like her grandmother in that respect. The real question, he thinks, is why she would oppose against Morvran of all people. He’s only met the man briefly, but he likes horses and seems decently friendly enough, even to people that don’t fit society's crazy rules.

"Hold on. You want me to convince her to marry the guy, is that it? Very funny, Emhyr, really."

"Is it?“ Emhyr's voice is calm, his gaze serene, but his fingers pluck at the threads of his immaculate robe.

"Yes," Geralt replies heatedly, and then he says something rash, "yes, because... because she loves someone else."

Emhyr cocks his head, as he always does when information seems particularly interesting, "Who?" he demands to know.

"Well, if she didn't tell you about it, there’ll be a reason for that."

"That means she hasn't told you either, has she, Geralt?"

Geralt is probably in trouble now, because Emhyr has never called him by his name before. So far, he's always called him witcher. His teasing tone almost sounds amused, and he adds, "But I'll find out. You're coming to the ball tomorrow night. No arguments."

Geralt gasps for air like a fish that has just been pulled out of the water, and he feels like he’s just been found to be too small and thrown back in.

But there is no alternative, no escape, and in the end a ball is the lesser evil compared to open rebellion or becoming a kingslayer. If he just keeps telling himself that long enough, Geralt thinks, pulling at his doublet in disgust, it might become truth. He wanders around, carefully avoiding the tables of ladies looking for dance partners, clutching his empty plate, as a voice rings out next to him, "You seem to have a penchant for the shrimp." Geralt turns around and can't suppress a grin, "Think no one recognizes you when you're wearing a wolf mask? Subtle."

Many people are wearing masks tonight, because apparently every ball is a fancy masquerade. The truth is, of course, that every ball is a dating ball, and not everyone is blessed with a beautiful face. Emhyr's disguise with the wolf mask is probably just a mockery. In any case, the doublet cut to fit his muscular body is embroidered with real gold thread, and his sheer size makes him tower over the ordinary nobles. The unmistakable Impera are standing at the door, staring over with little subtlety, and out of the corner of his eye Geralt sees the familiar face of Vattier de Rideaux. Well, Emhyr may think he's diving into the crowd, but none of this is left to chance.

"People see what they want to see, and I hope the same applies to me. You will help me find out which of these vain peacocks my daughter prefers over Morvran Voorhis." His faint nod encompasses both the dancers and the men standing indecisively at the edge of the dance floor. "Cirilla has danced with almost every one of them except for Morvran."

Emhyr sounds disapproving, but strangely proud at the same time. Geralt thinks he can be: the black dress Ciri is wearing makes her green eyes shine, and a clever hairstyle ensures that her scar looks interesting, at best. Not that this detail would repel any suitors, on the contrary. Emhyr knows this, of course, and perhaps his strange behavior is actually motivated by paternal concern.

"What makes you think it's a man she's looking for?" asks Geralt, suddenly uncomfortable with the fact that he can't see Emhyr's reaction.

"Is she... interested in something else?"

It’s a strange wording, Geralt thinks, and even stranger is the fact that Emhyr sounds curious, above all. He replies, "And if so, Your Highness?"

"It’s Majesty, but I suppose you know that very well, Geralt. Well, that would be... unpleasant, I shall think."

Geralt thinks he must have misheard, but you never know. He walks on, his plate still firmly in his hand, because yes, he has a fondness for shrimp, and if Emhyr really cared about this conversation, he would follow him.

He follows him.

"Don't you think?" he asks as if he’s actually interested, watching Geralt fill his plate, and Geralt snorts, "Why exactly would that be unpleasant?"

"Apart from reasons of state," Emhyr begins, but then lowers his voice, because of course they’re not alone. The buffet has ears, so to speak. Lots of them. "Apart from that, you realize that this marriage must serve various purposes. It must satisfy the people, mean a visible gain for Nilfgaard..."

"But doesn't it matter what satisfies Ciri?" Geralt asks quietly, pointing to the dance floor, where she’s just pushing a young man across. She leads, she knows no other way. And Geralt thinks that it should be this way. That every woman should have the right to decide for herself. He knows Ciri will eventually learn and adapt the court’s subtle ways, as has her grandmother. She can’t change the world, and that’s sad. But maybe it should start at some point. It should start with her deciding whom she wants to marry, right? "Look, now she's dancing with Cerys. A connection with Skellige would certainly have some advantages, Emhyr."

In fact, the man should reprimand him now for addressing Geralt by his first name. But his usual sternness is hidden behind the wolf mask. Maybe even more than that.

"Skellige," the emperor replies quietly, "would laugh theirselves silly. Or go to war. I don't think Cirilla would risk it."

"That's your only concern?" asks Geralt in surprise, albeit a bit muffled, this buffet has good shrimp. "Proposed with the idea that your daughter could marry a woman, all you can think about is the political implications?"

"Everything has political implications, whether you like it or not."

"Really? That's your answer? Not oh no, my daughter can never marry a woman?"

"Are you shocked, Geralt? Then I guess there's more Nordling in you than I thought."

With these words, Emhyr leaves him, and the evening passes without a single scandal.

However, Geralt is preoccupied with the question for much longer than he would like to admit to himself. It's one of those moments when he deeply regrets how things turned out after Yennefer summoned the djinn. Because although it had made him painfully aware that he had been clinging to a lie for years, he had also lost his friend in the process. And although there have been many years in which he and Yen were not on speaking terms, it’s unfavorable now. But maybe it's just as well, because there may be another reason why Emhyr's words are bothering him, and it's buried so deep that it's better not to shake it. Telling Emhyr about Cerys was kind of a dry run for something Geralt hasn’t even admitted to himself. And maybe there actually is only one person to talk about this topic, and it’s not Dandelion, mind you. It’s Ciri herself.

She thinks it's hilarious.

"You told Emhyr what?" she repeats for the third time.

Geralt sighs and says, "Thought I was doing you a favor. You don't seem to like this Morvran guy very much."

"Oh yeah?" Ciri's eyes flash cockily. "And you couldn't think of anything better than Cerys an Craite, my childhood playmate. Whereupon he wrinkled his nose and told you that it would be better for the realm if it were at least another Nilfgaardian noblewoman."

"He was wearing a mask, no idea what he wrinkled," Geralt returns sourly, "and... wait, you'd be interested in, uh, noblewomen?"

"Good heavens, Geralt. Don’t you think it’s a little late for that kind of conversation?" Ciri laughs so loudly that the few walkers in the meagre palace garden turn to look at her. "But if you must know, I'm quite open-minded. Be it men or women."

"But…" Geralt feels at loss of words, and if he could blush he might just now. Strangely enough, this feels… liberating, for whatever reason.

"No buts," she says now, much more seriously. "When I decided to take this path, I was aware of the consequences. A strategic marriage is the best thing for Nilfgaard. Still, Geralt, one thing I've learned from you is that love should come first. And I’m convinced that both is possible, even if Emhyr may see it differently."

"Love hasn't really taken me very far," Geralt replies quietly.

"You've got that wrong. It’s actually taken you and me a long way." Ciri pats his back, ready to leave Geralt in quite the confused state although he couldn’t say why, exactly, but she turns one more time to add, "Oh, and it’s not Cerys, by the way."

"Hm?"

"About your talk with Emhyr. You basically wanted to get him to admit that he’s fine with me marrying whoever I love, right? I will, don’t you worry. It’s just not Cerys."

If that's even possible, Geralt is only more bewildered after this conversation. It's as if Ciri has triggered something inside him that he had last thought about decades ago, something he’d dismissed as one of those things that stood in the way of a need to appear more human. Humanity, however, has proven that it never believed he could have anything in common with it. So, why should he even bother if he harbored feelings that weren’t exactly in line with society?

Geralt hasn’t much time to think about it. A man has to earn money, so he’s dealing with everyday's monsters, some of which happen to be human, and then there’s also Emhyr. Ever since the ball, Geralt has had the feeling that shadows are following him in the form of Nilfgaardian soldiers, and every few weeks the man finds another opportunity to summon him to the palace. He keeps him busy with trifles that Geralt cannot refuse for Ciri's sake – and because he is the Emperor, damnit. Again and again, he engages him in conversation, alone in his study room. Well, he is never alone, of course. The Impera at the door, however, are chosen on the basis of loyalty and discretion, which may not apply to every member of the court, as Geralt soon learns.

"If it's not Cerys, who is it?"

It is clear that this is not just musing, but a clear question, almost an order to Geralt to finally reveal the answer.

"Do you have eavesdroppers in the palace garden?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"What surprises me," Geralt says thin-lipped, "is that it doesn't seem to bother you."

Emhyr regards him almost startled. "Geralt, you've been here how many times since Ciri moved in?" he returns, "You still haven't learned anything about Nilfgaard in all this time? All those conversations with Henry var Attre and his daughter… don't give me that look, of course I know about your supposed fencing lessons."

Well, the fencing lessons. Geralt could have guessed that there were holes in the cloak of this secrecy. Because he had, in fact, spent some time with Rosa and her father to find out more about Nilfgaard. Some kind of further training to be able to support Ciri later on. That’s what he claimed to them, at least. And perhaps that was partly true. But there was also another part, a hidden part, which had been a strange motivation to be babbled at by two not particularly fascinating people.

"I don't get it," Geralt admits grudgingly, "though I’m well aware of the political dimensions of a marriage with Skellige, but..."

"I have my doubts about that," Emhyr replies with a ... a wink? Perhaps he has a speck of dust in his eye. "But that's not the point. Geralt, some things Nilfgaardians simply see differently from the people of the North. Especially, well, the common folk."

"Sure, the peasants probably wouldn't understand," Geralt muses, unamused. "Wait. Do you mean ... same-sex marriage? In Nilfgaard?"

"Not very often, but not unusual either. Quite common among knights, in fact, in order not to lose the claim to a fief. Occasionally also occurs among kings, for similar reasons. And... well. It’s said my great-great-grandfather..."

Emhyr breaks off and looks away, as if this is really not a topic to discuss with a witcher. Geralt swallows. His palms feel strangely damp. "If that were the case," he replies boldly, "you wouldn't be here today."

"Hm. The concept that Ciri tried to explain to you seems to have passed you by. Would that really be so bad, Geralt? Is love actually one of the feelings that has been completely driven out of witchers?"

"I don't know."

"But you spent many years with the sorceress from Vengerberg."

"Decades," Geralt sighs. "Doesn’t mean I understand love. Or even… know it."

"And because you claim to not know it," Emhyr replies pointedly, „you can’t imagine there’s more to love than what our parents told us?"

"Haven’t really had parents."

"You’re evading my question, Geralt."

Geralt shrugs. Suddenly, he feels so small beneath Emhyr’s gaze. And the question is quite simple. Is it bad to love men and women? Is it bad to love differently, be differently, like the blacksmith he met in Novigrad or the hunter he met in Velen or…

"I simply want Ciri to be happy," he finally says.

Emhyr shrugs. "Happiness is even more complex to a ruler, I’m afraid. Don’t you think I would want that, too? Nobody can undo their past. We only have the future to look forward to. I want Nilfgaard to have a future, and it has my daughter to ensure this. If it is with a woman, so be it. She can still have an heir. So no, I’m not bothered. I would be, though, if it was not somebody that’s valuable for both her and the realm."

He laughs. It’s a quiet, almost restrained laugh, and a sound rarely heard in this palace. It’s also a pleasant sound, Geralt realizes with surprise, because he likes it.

"Does that apply to you, too?" he asks without thinking. Emhyr tilts his head. "To me?"

"Do you have to ... be with someone who gives you an advantage? Someone sufficient for Nilfgaard? That can’t be too hard, there’ve been many noble women eying you at the ball. Yet you haven’t announced your wedding. You also were never seen with any women in the palace besides your own court sorceress, and given your suspicion around magic, she’s probably not it, and…"

"Geralt, you’re babbling," says Emhyr in a strangely soft voice.

Geralt looks at him, and he notices quite a few things. Emhyr has very brown eyes with tiny speckles in them. He can speak softly with those sensual lips. He’s fascinating in his own way. It’s… odd. Confusing. It’s also nice. And it ges even nicer, because now this face and these eyes come closer. Maybe there’s a hint of insecurity in them, for the fraction of a second. But this is the Emperor. He’s not an insecure man, and his lips touch Geralt’s, and for a while, his mind goes blank.

"What do you think," he says after a while, even if Geralt is still processing the kiss, "is one of the advantages for me that Cirilla was willing to accept her inheritance? I can do what I want. Love whoever I want."

"How did you know?" asks Geralt, running a finger over his lips in bewilderment. Did that really happen? "That I wanted that too, I mean."

"Intuition," Emhyr says, tapping his temples in a strangely ridiculous gesture, "and a lot of spies who are a burden on the state treasury, I'm afraid."

Their hands find each other almost automatically, intertwining fingers. Geralt has almost forgotten that the Impera are still at the door, but they're basically like living statues, and he doesn't even care if he becomes the number one topic of conversation in the palace’s rumor mill today. There's a knock at the door, the moment when the Impera become a little livelier again, but it's actually Ciri. A strange coincidence, and yet Emhyr does not pull his hands away, not even when they see Morvran is with her. Ciri just looks briefly at their interlaced fingers and smiles.

"Father," she says, "or shall I say fathers since you’re both here, I have an announcement to make."

Morvran Voorhis' cheeks turn red. Geralt looks at him with fascination, suddenly struck by a premonition.

Ciri takes Morvran's hand, beams at Emhyr and says, "Morvran and I are getting married."

"W... What?" For a moment, Emhyr's facial features slip, but he quickly catches himself and clears his throat. "Well, it's good that you've come to your senses, child."

"Wait, hang on," Geralt interjects, confused, "why Morvran now?"

Ciri laughs out loud. Too loud for the palace, really, but Geralt can see that Voorhis is almost glued to watching her. And now he gets it. This is Ciri, the girl who tricked Vesemir when she didn't want to train, who got Eskel to do Lambert's chores in the kitchen and taught Geralt what a soft heart is. She winks at him.

"Morvran just needed some impetus," she says, and Morvran is really blushing now. "He seemed to think I was a trophy that belonged to him, so I had to take away his illusions. We've been dating for a while, you know? I like him, I really do. But he shouldn't think he can have me so easily. Love, you two. Love is the key. I think he's realized it now."

She grins, and Morvran smiles at her like a lovesick fool. Apparently, he has, thinks Geralt. His heart is light as he looks at Emhyr.

A year later, a double wedding takes place, and it's the most beautiful celebration Nilfgaard has ever seen.

(Why the title, you ask? Because I'm in an absolute brainrot for this song)

[tabitha42]

The Wizard's Apprentice - Chapter 35

Saffron is just a lowly apprentice with barely a successful firebolt to her name. So what chance does she have with the arch mage she's slowly falling in love with?

Gale x Tav, slow burn, eventual smut

Chapter 1 Previous chapter Next chapter

Moonlight bathed the lovers as they kissed, hearts beating as one. After so much longing for each other, they could now hardly pry themselves away. Eventually they were forced to part for breath and their eyes met once more. 

“This isn’t a dream, is it?” Saff said with a chuckle, only half-joking as she stared into his eyes. “It feels too good to be true…”

“No dream, I assure you,” he responded with a chuckle of his own. She smiled as she leant in and hugged him again, though her smile faded as she thought of how distraught she’d been just minutes earlier. 

“I thought I’d lost you…” she whispered, burying herself in his chest. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have said anything, I knew it would make you emotional, I should have-” “No, don’t apologise,” he interrupted, pulling back to look at her, “I’m sorry for letting it get so far. I should have had a better handle on my emotions… but that’s all in the past now, let’s not linger on it. There are… other things we need to discuss,” he said, with a seriousness that took her by surprise. She looked at him in confusion as he sat down from where he’d been kneeling in front of her. She followed suit, starting to feel slightly nervous as he took her hands in his. “You must know the reason the orb has been stabilised.” Her frown intensified.

“You mean… it wasn’t just to save your life? Was that not reason enough??” she asked incredulously. 

“Seems not…” he murmured, a noticeable bitterness in his voice. “Elminster was sent with a charge from Mystra. He has given me a charm to detonate the orb at will, which I am to use to destroy the heart of the Absolute when we find it.” 

The breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened. “Wha… what?? But… that’ll…” “Kill me, yes,” he confirmed. “But worry not, I have no intention of obeying this order. She says she will forgive me if I do, but after all she’s done, I will not sacrifice myself for her. I will find another way to destroy the Absolute.”

Both relief and anger flooded over her, though for the moment it was anger that tipped the scales of her emotions. 

“I can’t believe she would demand that of you! How dare she! She’s a goddess, is there nothing better she can come up with? This is the best she can do?!” 

She squeezed her eyes shut and looked downwards as she seethed in anger. As if she hadn’t been angry enough at Mystra already… 

“She can’t take you…” she whispered, her anger now starting to turn to fear. “She can’t…”

“She won’t,” Gale said softly, cupping her cheek in his hand as he lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” 

He leant in and kissed her once more, and she melted into his arms as she felt her fears washing away. “Now…” he whispered, barely pulling away, “I have spent quite long enough thinking about Mystra. I want only to think only of you…” 

She smiled against his lips, then leant in once more, wrapping her arms round his shoulders as she kissed him. He pulled her close, his hands resting on her hips as the kiss deepened. Soon all thoughts of Mystra were long gone from both their minds, replaced only by thoughts of each other. 

His hands moved up her back and hers into his hair, her fingers intertwining with the strands as she pulled him in. The kiss was hungry and lustful, and when they finally parted for breath, there was a look in her eyes Gale had never seen before.

“So…” she started, lowering her hand as her fingers trailed down his chest, running over the marking. “Just… how stable is the orb now?” As she asked she bit her lip and gave him a look that sent a rush of excitement through him. 

“Let me show you…” he whispered, his voice so low it was almost a growl. 

She gasped slightly as he swooped her down and gently laid her on the soft grass. Her heart rushed as he leant over her, his eyes darkening with lust, til he leant down and kissed her once more. 

It was like a dream come true for both of them as they kissed in the pale moonlight. Wandering hands fumbled with leather buckles, until one belt was hastily thrown aside, followed quickly by a second. The familiar clasps that held each of their robes in place fell open to their practised fingers, and any chill that Saff might have felt as the robe was slid off her shoulders was more than drowned by the warmth that grew inside her at Gale’s touches. Reaching up to help him out of his own robe, her eyes wandered down the thin, white undershirt that he was left in as the heavy robe was discarded. 

His kisses moved down her neck now as he ran his hands up her sides, her torso now only covered by the thin fabric of her undershirt. The ties that held the shirt together fell loose at his touch, and he felt her shiver with excitement as his hand slipped inside the shirt, skin meeting skin. 

He helped her out of her shirt, leaving her in just the thin, lace bra she wore underneath. He barely had a chance to admire the sight before she leant forward and relieved him of his own shirt, deftly undoing the ties and pulling it off him. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of him topless, surprised as she was by the unexpectedly toned muscles that she couldn’t help but run her fingers over. 

He leant over her once more, propped up by one arm over her head as he met her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed and she gasped with a breathlessness that only increased as their nearly bare torsos came together. He held her gaze for just a moment, til their lips met once more. 

Their wandering hands now met bare skin, and as he pressed into her she could feel the extent of his arousal even through their trousers, hard against her thigh, sending excited shivers through her body. 

His kisses were met by soft moans as his lips moved down to her neck, his nose nuzzling beneath her ear, her scent intoxicating to him. Further he continued down til he found the sensitive skin of her breasts. Her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths beneath his lips, and as his hands cupped the curve of her breast and gently pulled the lace fabric down, he heard the whispered hint of his name on her lips as he took the nipple into his mouth. 

She barely even noticed as her bra was removed, so lost was she in his touch, and as that touch moved down her stomach and fingertips brushed between her legs, she couldn't stop the moan that escaped her lips. 

Gale smiled to himself, still kissing and sucking at her breasts as he lowered her trousers. He eventually pulled away to finally remove them from her, and when she was left lying in front of him in just her thin, lace knickers, flushed and breathless, he had to pause once again to admire the beauty of the view in front of him. This time she let him, smiling as she saw the way he looked at her, feeling any insecurities she had about herself melt away. 

She sat up and took her turn now, peppering kisses across his chest as she trailed her hands down his body. She felt his hands run up her back, leaving loving touches and strokes across her skin as she undid the fastening on his trousers, her fingers brushing over the hardness that awaited her. Soon his trousers were removed too, and she might have noticed the hint of magic that emanated from his underwear had she not been completely distracted by thoughts of what was concealed beneath. 

As her hands brushed over the fabric of his boxers she felt his arms tighten round her as his breath caught in his throat. He buried his face in her neck, stifling moans against her skin as she began to stroke him. How long had it been, she wondered, since he’d felt another’s touch like this? Since he’d known what it was like to be truly loved? She didn’t know exactly, but she was determined to make him feel as loved as he made her feel. 

Gently she pushed him down to the ground and straddled over him. His eyes were full of emotion, deep pools of love and lust as he looked up at her, his hands running up her thighs til they rested on her hips. Excitement bubbled inside her as she leant down and kissed him, feeling his wandering hands as their tongues met once more, til she began to make her way downwards, trailing kisses along his body. 

Gale's head spun with a wave of pleasure as she slowly slid his underwear down and took him in her hand. He tried to keep it together as he felt her fingers, her lips, her tongue, all running along his skin, reminding him what love’s touch could truly feel like. Breathless moans and whispered words of unbridled pleasure danced in the air like music in her ears as she finally took him into her mouth. Trembling fingers found their way into her hair, and as she felt him writhing beneath her, she took him deeper, determined to show him every ounce of love she possibly could…

“Saff…”

He pulled her upwards by the arm, knowing what would happen if he she continued much longer. As she crawled up next to him he pulled her into a kiss, then rolled them over once more and met her eyes as he leant up over her. “My turn,” he said with a smirk, before moving down her body, leaving a trail of soft kisses in his wake. Anticipation rose inside her as his mouth moved over her breasts and down her stomach, before lingering tantalisingly at her hips. He moved teasingly down her leg to place light kisses on the inside of her thigh, smiling as he tasted the slick evidence of her arousal on his lips, and as she felt his fingers brushing over the thin lace of her pants, her breath caught in her throat in a pleasured gasp. 

Her head swum and sensations fluttered through her at his well-practised touches, so turned on was she at that moment that even the lightest stroke over her underwear was enough to draw a moan from her lips. As his kisses moved further up her thigh and she felt not only the touch of his fingers but too the touch of his lips, teasing and caressing, until finally he slid her pants down from her hips and began to truly explore her. 

Licks and kisses, strokes and circles, one finger, followed by another… her back arched and her fingers gripped the grass below her as her body trembled in his hands. Soft moans and gasps escaped her lips, whimpers of pleasure and whispers of his name. Never had any of her previous partners made her feel like this, a level of pleasure she didn’t even know was possible from touch and tongue alone. 

By the time he made his way back up her body she was aching for him. Her eager hands pulled him into a hungry kiss and her legs wrapped round his waist as his body pressed against her. He lined himself up and as he finally entered her, they both let out a deep gasp of pleasure. 

Their bodies began to move as one as they lost themselves in each other. His name danced breathlessly on her lips as whispered declarations of love met her ears. Every thrust of his was met with a squeeze of her legs or a moan against his neck. Eventually they both flipped over so she was on top, straddling him once more. His hands explored her body as she took the lead now and began to move on top of him, her hands resting on his chest, the plaits of her hair falling down and brushing over his skin as she leant down over him. She trailed kisses up his chest, over the marking left by the orb and up his neck, til her mouth met his once more. Their lips parted and their tongues danced, hungry and passionate and loving. 

By the time she sat back up again, he could barely stop himself from moving his hips underneath her, thrusting up into her, watching enraptured as she leant back, her chest heaving with pleasure, her cheeks flushed. He moved a thumb down between her legs from where his hands were resting on her hips and began to massage her once more, bringing a moan from her lips. Her fingers dug into his thighs as she drew ever closer, the sensations growing almost too much. 

Finally he sat up with her, wrapping an arm round her waist and holding her gently against him as his other hand remained down between her legs. She melted into his embrace, resting her hands against his chest as their eyes met, giving herself to him completely. In that moment, as she looked at him with starlight reflecting in her eyes, he’d never felt more in love. 

She closed her eyes as the sensations grew overwhelming, her moans growing in pitch as she clutched at his chest. His movements grew faster, willing her on… til finally she let out a loud moan, trembling in his arms as the climax shot waves of pleasure through her, leaving her crumbling against him. The sounds of her moans, the way she fell into him, the feel of her squeezing around him, it was enough to send him over the edge too. He couldn’t stop the moan that came from his lips as he held her tightly, his head swimming from the intensity of his release. 

Breathless and light-headed, the two of them simply sat there in each other’s embrace as they came down from the high they’d both just felt. Safe in his arms as she leant against his chest, Saff never wanted to move from here. 

Eventually he leant back just enough to meet her gaze as he cupped her cheek. 

“I love you…” he whispered, staring deep into her eyes, feeling the sweat that beaded on her skin. 

“Gale…” her voice was barely audible but still he could hear the emotion in it, warm and loving as the smile that graced her lips. “I love you, too.” 

[trashiewrites]

Some things never change

Pairing: Rise!Leo x F!Reader

words: 753

A/N: Okay! So my new obsession! I swear ill go back to cod but I needed to get this out my system! I may or may not do more ROTTMNT content idk not sure yet! Alrighty hope to those that read this enjoy!!!

WARNING: POST-MOVIE SO MOVIE SPOILERS?? KIND OF?? NOT REALLY!!

"LEO!!" (Y/n) rushed over, wrapping the blue turtle in her embrace. Resting her head on his shoulder as she sobbed. "You IDIOT! Scaring me like that! Scaring everyone!" She gripped onto his plastron, tears rolling down her face. Leo slowly placed a hand on her head, softly caressing her scalp. "I thought I'd never see you again! Your generally crappy one-liners, your charming smile," she went on and on; the others stood behind staring fondly at the two. They all shared her sentiment.

Leo moved her to see her face, "Woah Woah, you saying you don't like my one-liners!" He cupped his hands around her face wiping fresh tears as they fell. "First of all, how dare you~" he cooed at her, "secondly... I'm sorry. Keeping you safe, keeping everyone safe was my first priority." He spoke in a serious yet sincere tone, flashing her his iconic grin. She couldn't be angry as much as she wanted to be, she was just scared. "If my sacrifice promised you a better life, I would in a heartbe-"

"A world without you Leon, god, I can't even imagine it!" She wrapped her arms around his neck, resting herself in the crook of his neck. "Leonardo, I think I speak for everyone that without you; life, the world would be incomplete." Leo's eyes open wide, hearing those words come from her mouth. The others nod as Leo's eyes scan the room; overwhelmed by emotion, his eyes well with tears. Casey Jones looked on seeing the two acting like this made him relieved. It made of think back to his times, times he would be up late seeing master Leonardo sitting alone on the lookout.

Especially after the death of Raph and Donnie, Master Leo looked at those wastelands with a cloud of fear. Nights were then joined by his wife, who always brewed him a fresh cup of tea. The two always talked till late into the night, and despite being in the apocalypse the two always laughed about something. She kept Master Leo looking forward, looking straight. In the hell he lived in, he never saw a man happier in his life.

Coming back to reality Casey sighed, "I'm glad some things never change." He smiled, not yet realizing how loud he said that.

"What doesn't change Casey!" Mikey leaned closer to Casey, staring up at him intently.

"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to say that so loud! It's nothing!" He laughed nervously; he pulled his mask down slowly. His face flushed red from embarrassment.

"No no, go on Casey. I'm deathly curious now!" Leo raised his brow, giving him a smirk. Casey rubbed the back of his neck, "let me guess! Me being the greatest and strongest ninja ever~"

"Leo!" The group laughed in unison as he shrugged. (Y/n) wiped tears from her eyes as she stared lovingly at Leo. "All that talk about it not being about you!"

"What can I say, old habits die hard~"

"Okay shut it, Leo, let him speak." Donatello pulled out a notepad and waited intensely, "the next thing he says could possibly expand my research into quantum time theories and the existence of multiple timelines!"

"It's nothing that important," Casey rubbed his shoulder, "It's just for those two, even despite future changing their care for each other hasn't. It's kind of a relief to me." Casey raised his mask again, his eyes down to the floor, "I even see why they got married in my time..."

"MARRIED!" The room went into chaos after Casey spoke these words. Mickey and Raph were gushing, April wasn't reacting that much but had an approving look. Donnie threw his notepad on the floor in a huff and Splinter well he was silent, eyes closed while nodding his head; who knows what happens in there... (Y/N) was a stuttering mess, Leo watched her in amusement and even teased her from time to time. In any case, Casey should have never said it.

"Some things really never change" he spoke quieter this time. No need for another freakout.

BONUS!!

Leo: See (y/n)! We were destined for each other!

Y/n: M-m-m-m-ma-ma...

Leo: oooohhhh a wedding in an apocalyptic time, that must have been fun! Butalsolikereallydepressing... did we go on a honeymoon?

Casey: You guys got married before I was born so idk...

Y/n: m-m *passes out momentarily*

Leo: oughhh boi, I think we genuinely lost her... oh she must be so happy she died~

All: LEO!

Leo: JOKING joking! Jesuss- she passes out when she gets super overwhelmed, she's fine!

[sayafics]

Ghost - Chapter X

Sorry for the long wait! I didn't see much traction with the series so I wasn't sure if people were enjoying it anymore, but thank you to everyone who reached out to ask for more because I do genuinely enjoy writing this series! This was my first series as a fanfic writer, so it will always hold a special place in my heart <3

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

It was up on that roof where Rick had come up with a plan - a plan so brave and so foolish Casper almost wanted to knock him up across the head.

Rick wanted to make it to the construction site, to grab a truck so they could all hide away from the walkers whilst he drove them far away from the infested streets of Atlanta.

A stupid plan.

But a good one.

She was reluctant to admit it, and angry that he wouldn't let her join him.

That was what brought them to this moment now, standing across from each other with a truly dead walker lying on the ground between them with his body mutilated and guts spilt across the floor.

She was fuming, eyes narrowed as she looked the stubborn man in his eyes - "I'm coming with you."

"No. You're staying here, and that's final."

She rounded the body, shoulders raised as she looked at him with incredulity laced in her voice, "you cannot be serious. I am not letting you go out there. There's hundreds of them and one of you. It's not safe."

"That is exactly why I need you here. I need you safe."

The heated pair pretended to not notice the lingering eyes or awkward coughs, "I mean," Glenn's hesitant voice piped up, "it's not like he'll be alone. I'll be there too. I'll make sure he comes back safe."

Casper stared at him with scepticism, eyes flashing between the man she met only hours ago and the one she had been with for only a few days.

She almost laughed at the irony of how she had trusted Rick within seconds of staring into those terrified eyes, and yet here she was doubting the words of a man who saved her and Rick from dying of starvation, cramped within a tank.

Casper couldn't help the frown that crossed her face, couldn't help but look into Rick's eyes as though it was finally her chance to look for something.

"I'll come back."

Something flashed within those sea-blue eyes of his, something deep and daring and true.

He'll come back.

He has to.

"Promise?"

Rick was wary of the eyes upon him, recalling how Glenn and his friends had thought she was his lover and not his friend, remembering the guilt that stung through him as he confessed he had a wife which was not her.

Still, looking into those earnest eyes of hers, he could not help but wrap her tight within his arms. Casper gripped the front of his shirt, her cheek pressed firmly against his chest as she focused on calming her breaths.

This would be the first time Rick and Casper had been apart, even if it was just for a few moments. There was a part of her terrified he would never come back, just like the people who left her in that hospital bed.

There was a part of her angry that he was willing to sacrifice himself for this group of people they had just met.

There was an even greater part of her that roiled in the horror of the idea she might forget him, just as she had forgotten her past life so easily.

If Rick was here, in her sight and in her arms - she could never forget him. But if he was gone, the lingering fear she would simply forget it all sat heavy upon her chest.

"Promise, sweetheart."

His whispers of reassurance did little to assuage her, but his calming touch, a relentless grip, was the most real thing she had felt since the moment she woke up.

He was real.

He was here.

And he is going to come back.

She pulled herself away from him, hands trailing down his arms as his own stayed locked upon her waist. Casper sent him a strained smile, "okay. But if you don't come back, I'm going to burn your hat."

A surprised laugh escaped Rick, his eyes alight as his pacing heart settled with her agreeance.

"You're gonna have to fetch it from the tank first, if that's the plan."

"Well then, I guess if you really want to keep me safe and stop me from being eaten by a big group of walkers, you better get that truck and come back here quickly."

Rick's expression sobered at that, even if she didn't mean for it to.

"I'll be back. And you'll be here. Safe. Y' hear me? No leavin' or we're gonna have a problem."

She had never seen him so serious, so blunt. His Southern accent rang clearly as he voiced his concerns, a tinge of anger at the thought of her being harmed coated his words.

Her fingertips tingled as she gripped his arms tighter. Her smile was shyer now as her eyes flickered between their amused audience - "whatever you say, cowboy."

Casper stepped back from him, eyes falling onto the soiled remains of a walker as she took a resigned sigh, "I guess we should probably get started then."

***

The group had smeared Rick and Glenn in the entrails of walker guts, covering them thoroughly head to toe.

Casper smeared Rick with blood and muck in careful drags, trying not to catch his face. She held back her giggles of amusement at the way his nose scrunched up under the scent, the way Glenn heaved, and Rick held back his gags. She thought it was weird how she wasn't as averse to the smell as they were, but perhaps her sense of smell was simply not as sensitive.

When the time had come, Casper couldn't give Rick a parting embrace so instead she sent him a shaky smile.

"You promised."

Rick replied with a smile of his own, eyes fluttering as they roved over her figure. It was like he was committing her to memory, afraid that this may be the last time he saw her.

"I'll come back to you."

It was his quiet whisper that had her heart sink to the pit of her stomach, but she held strong for the moment.

There was no longer any anger within her, not when she could lose him so quickly in a matter of seconds. There was only gratuity, there was only appreciation, there was only friendship and love and trust.

He'll come back.

He promised.

He left with a parting nod, exiting the building with a hesitant Glenn at his side as they shuffled into the alley with the faux gait of the rotting dead.

The moment the door was slammed behind them, Casper found herself turning for the stairs, racing up to the roof so she could watch them from there.

So she could make sure he didn't lie.

So she could make sure he was safe.

Morales followed the boys using his binoculars, whilst the others talked in hushed voices behind her. It was as though he could sense the anxiety rushing off of her in waves, so he turned towards her with pity in his eyes.

"Here. They're doing good, they're making it through. Keep an eye on them, would you? I wouldn't wanna lose them in the crowd."

Casper couldn't find it within herself to smile, she simply took the binoculars from his grasp and looked into the sea of walkers of frantic eyes.

There.

Safe.

He is there and he is alive and he is safe.

Behind her, she hears chatter upon the radio, senses the way the air charges up as the people she met were finally able to get into contact with their group.

She thinks she wouldn't mind meeting them now, because meeting them would mean Glenn and Rick made it back safely.

Casper bit her lip out of habit, her wandering thoughts quietened as she focused on what was in front of her. Rick and Glenn were making progress, although it was agonisingly slow.

They were passing through unnoticed, and she could see how the boys began to swell in confidence. Their movements became more assured, and they waded through the waves of walkers with practiced ease.

Thunder rumbled overhead, and Casper drew back from the binoculars to shoot a worried glance at the sky. It seemed like it would rain soon - she hoped they would have made it safely to the truck by then.

But it seemed luck had not been on her side from the start.

***

Slowly edging towards the silver gates, Rick kept his head on a swivel, watching out for any walkers that did not follow the rest in their mindless dronings.

He was keeping a silent count of every step he took, tracking every tread and every shuffle he made in order to know how many he needed to take back to find Casper.

He just needed to get to the truck, just needed to get in and drive it back. Then she would be safe, next to him. Safe and warm and breathing.

Safe.

He was so close, so close that if he could sprint without being jumped by walkers he would.

And it seemed he may just have to.

A drop of water hit his head, the cool sensation trickling down his forehead to glide across the bridge of his nose.

Soon, Rick and Glenn were soaked to the bone, all remnants of walker remains washed away by the harsh winds and icy rain.

"The smell’s washing off, isn’t it? Is it washing off?"

Glenn tried to keep his panic down, tried to lower his voice, but he could see how the walkers threw him a second glance, then third, then another and another and another.

"No, it’s not." Rick was not sure if he was trying to convince Glenn or himself, but he just knew that if they failed now he would most likely never make it back.

And he couldn't let that happen.

But it seemed he could also no longer deny the obvious, as the walkers had stopped to stare at them with hunger, "well, maybe," Rick corrects himself.

The closest walker to him roars, rearing back before launching towards him. But Rick was quicker, aiming for its head with his axe.

He is sure, even across this entire distance, he was able to hear a horrified scream. And he hoped Casper would not watch him be torn and mutilated, hoped she would not watch him fail to fulfill his promise, hoped she would be brave enough to turn away.

***

The group upon the roof watched with terror painted across their face as Rick and Glenn barrelled their way through reaching arms and biting mouths, escaping every grasp and pinch and tear.

"C'mon Rick, please."

Casper had her hands held up towards her face, fingers covering her moving lips as she spoke fervent prayers to anyone who would listen.

Her heart bound within her chest, beating on her ribs as though it was trying to escape and reach out to him. She felt her gasping breaths become shorter as she watched with horror sinking deep into the confines of her skin.

Rick launched himself towards the gate, Glenn just behind him.

Casper held her breath now, watching with avid eyes as Rick threw his axe over before himself. Her eyes welled with tears of relief as he managed to throw himself over and escape the infective touch of the walkers only a hair's breadth away. And then she hesitated for a moment, her eyes no longer following Rick as she focused on Glenn instead - maybe she didn't trust him as much as Rick, but he had helped her. Had saved her.

She thinks if Glenn had died in that moment, there was a part of her that would be upset for a long time.

Glenn gave her a second chance, she only hoped he didn't need one now.

A bubble of laughter escaped her lips, relief colouring her features as she leaned against the closest wall with her hands rubbing across her face, brushing the wet strands of hair from her face.

They made it.

Rick made it.

Glenn made it.

They were alive.

The group watches as Glenn makes a run for the key board while Rick turns and starts picking off the walkers who got too close for his liking.

Casper leaned as close as she could without falling off the building, paying no mind to the figures that sidled up next to her.

She lets out a silent cheer as she watches Glenn throw something towards Rick, and she hopes it was the keys.

The pair run towards the truck, frantic in the movements as walkers begin to climb over the fence and trudge towards them with increasing aggression.

The run in, slamming the doors closed behind them.

Glenn watches the walkers get closer to him, beginning to pound on the glass, separating him from being torn and consumed - "go, go, go, go!"

Rick adheres to his pleas, tires screeching as he backs up the truck. The walker was thrown off, but still relentless in his pursuit.

Rick drives towards the gate, trying not to waver at the sight of a crowd of walkers who pushed against the gate until it collapsed under their weight. He drives through the crowd, heart racing as he tries to not look back.

Rick looks towards the building roof, remembering his promise to Cassie. He could drive there right now, he could hope she made it into the truck without getting caught in the crowd of walkers, he could try and save her now if he wished.

But he wouldn't succeed.

He wouldn't.

Would he?

He couldn't risk her life over a possibility.

No there had to be a better way.

He wasn't leaving her.

He wasn't.

He couldn't.

He'd be back.

He'd save her.

He had a plan.

***

The tears flowed down Casper's face freely now, hearing the group argue behind her as she stared at the space where she last saw Rick's truck before it drove out of view.

He left her.

He left.

Rick left.

Rick lied.

***

Rick and Glenn stood upon a deserted street, a flashy car sat untouched in front of them. With a crowbar in his hand, Rick breaks through the driver's side window causinh the alarm to blare.

Whilst Glenn covers his ears, Rick works quickly - the engine begins to rev as Rick hotwires the car, with floundering gestures he ushers Glenn side.

He had to get back to Cassie.

***

Glenn couldn't stop the grin stretching across his face as he drove chaotically past Rick in the cube van, he manouvered his way past debris and walkers as he traced his steps back to the department store.

Glenn fumbled with the radio, eyes flickerinh between his steering wheel, the road and his shaking hands - "those roll-up doors at the front of the store facing the street," God, he hoped they could hear him over the screeching alarm, "meet us there and be ready."

Casper felt her heart swell at the words - they were coming back. Rick was coming back.

She felt guilt sting her throat at the idea she had believed Rick broke his promise so easily. She thought back to all Rick had done for her, to keep her safe and felt ashamed she ever doubted him.

Casper wiped her tears, a hesitant smile stretching across her face at the sound of cheers echoing around her. The group began to race down the stairs, a frenzied air of chaos radiated around them now.

Casper went to follow, but hesitated as a voice called out - "hey, you can’t leave me here!"

Merle.

It seemed the others paid him no mind, launching for their bags so they could escape quickly.

"I’m not fooling, man! Morales! Hey, man!" Morales paid the man no heed, rushing away before guilt could hold him still, "don’t do this! Come on. You can’t leave me. Don’t leave me here, you guys."

Casper stood by the door, watching how Morales encouraged T-Dog to go, "you too, Casper," she met his gaze with an inquisitive gaze, "he ain't gonna leave without you, you know that."

"We can't leave him like this."

"Leaving him like this won't hurt anyone."

"You might be okay with it, Morales. But I ain't."

"Yeah! Y'hear that, Morales, even the chick got better sense than you," there was a frantic sense of desperation in Merle's voice, he sounded grateful even.

It seemed Casper's insistence was all T-Dog needed as he ran back from the door in an attempt to unlock Merle's handcuffs as quick as possible. Although, it seemed in his rush he lost his footing, tripping over Dale's tool bag and launching the key down a drainpipe.

Casper's mouth was agape, dread colouring her features at the realisation of what this means.

No.

No.

"Son of a bitch! You did that on purpose!"

Casper really hoped he didn't, and Merle simply looked murderous.

"I didn't mean to!"

"Now what do we do?" Casper's question went unanswered as T-Dog ran for the door once more, "it was an accident!"

"We can't just leave him here."

"We have to! Rick isn't leaving without you, we both know that. And we need to go."

"He may be a bastard, but I am not leaving Merle behind."

Her heart ached at his petrified pleas, she couldn't imagine being trapped knowing that walkers would eventually find you and consume you piece by piece until you choked on your blood or lost enough to die, only to return as one of them.

She wouldn't wish such a fate upon her worst enemy, and she certainly wouldn't wish it upon Merle.

"We have to go, Casper."

"No," she looked at him with incredulity, but he only clenched his jaw in return. T-Dog reached for her arm, holding it in a tight grasp as he pulled her into the stairwell.

"Let me go! We can't leave him! Please, he'll die here!"

"No he won't," T-Dog begins to spew off hurried whispers as he reached for the chain hanging from the door jam and sealed the door shut with a padlock, "no he won't."

Casper watched on, aghast. He had locked Merle onto the roof, after leaving him handcuffed. No man deserved to die a death like this.

T-Dog paid no mind to either of them, instead grabbing Casper once more as he hauled her down the stairs. This time, she did not have it within her to resist.

***

"I am not leaving."

It had been too long, and still Casper hadn't come.

Rick's heard sank in dread - did something happen to her? Was she simply angry with him? Too stubborn to want his help anymore? He hoped not.

He prayed not.

"We have to go! They're going to get in, we need to leave. She doesn't wanna come Rick, we have to leave her behind."

Rick ground his teeth out of irritation, so close to lashing out at Andrea for her words but then the sound of running catches his ear.

"Wait for us! We're coming!"

T-Dog.

Us.

He said us.

Casper was with him.

Rick felt his heart slow to a steady beat, his hands still trembling in anticipation as he waited for them to show.

Seconds passed before a large figure launched itself into the truck - he seemed to be holding onto Casper with a vice grip.

The sight of such a thing caused Rick's lips to twitch, but he held himself back.

First he had to make sure they were safe, and from the sound of groans drawing closer that wouldn't be anywhere here.

He hit the gas, speeding off as Morales let down the back door.

As the truck slows down from its rushed pace, Rick's wandering eyes search for Casper in the rearview mirror - "hey," his voice soft as he took in hed quiet form and darting eyes, "sweetheart, are eyou okay?"

He was worried she was upset with him for his detour, angry that he hadn't come back as soon as he had gotten into the truck.

Casper's eyes met him through the mirror, red and swollen - "he dropped the key," her words were a dreaded whisper.

"I wanted to help him, but I couldn't."

Rick wished he could reach out to her now, wished he could hold her in his embrace.

He wasn't sure what to say, so maybe that was why he was relieved when Andrea spoke instesd - "where's Glenn?"

As if on cue, the sound of a blaring car alarm rushed passed them, the red sports car a blur in the wind - such a sight caused many to break into laughter but Rick's eyss stayed fixed onto Casper who continued to stare out into space.

They had left Merle behind, just as her people had left her.

The only difference was, Casper had survived. They had left her in a hospital with resources, somewhere she had the chance of surviving.

But to be handcuffed on a roof of a walker-infested department store, with no weapons or food, no shelter or barricade - Merle was a meal ripe for picking, he was a sacrifice so the rest could live.

And Casper felt like an active participant to it.

So so sorry for the long wait, I feel like this chapter does seem quite rushed but I'm honestly looking forward to the reuinion between Rick and his family, and Casper meeting Daryl. I didn't want to miss any plot points out so this chapter is like one big summary, I hope you guys enjoy it and that I didn't disappoint.

The reunion chapter is next, and hopefully, so is our first glance at Daryl!!!

Taglist: @maxinehufflepuffprincess @brittney69 @hhhilloklll

[deusvmachina]

can we have more songv prompts? 👀 "It would mean a lot to me if you stayed."

"PLEASE DON'T LEAVE MY SIDE" PROMPTS

"It would mean a lot to me if you stayed."

V could feel her chest tightening again. Her stomach twisted and fluttered at the same time while she sat there in the chair at So Mi's bedside. Her blue-grey eyes searched the other woman's face but her expression did not give way to her thoughts though she did note how Song's eyes seemed to glisten with unshed tears. A long period of silence lapsed between them but it wasn't a matter of debate for the merc so much as it was a moment of self-reflection. Of accepting that as much as she had every damn right to feel upset and betrayed, she just couldn't bring herself to actually be angry about it. The anger just... wasn't there. Instead, an intense maelstrom of emotions tore their way through a body that was beyond exhausted. Worn out from both combat and the frequency of her relic malfunctions.

Then there was worry about what Mr Blue Eyes would ask of V in return for that panacea she so desperately needed. The unexpected call she got from him, telling her to board the shuttle alongside her half-dead companion and that he was an interested party who she could strike a bargain with... Well, it sounded too good to be true but a part of her wanted to get away from it all. To remain by the woman she'd come to call her friend. To ensure her survival, even though that left V back at square one.

Could the clinics on Luna help her at all? Was there even enough time left before she lost more of herself to the biochip rewiring her brain? Who the hell was this guy anyway? He was entirely shrouded in mystery. And then there was a feeling of dread that had seeped in her very being: what would be the aftermath of all the things she had done to free Songbird from her gilded cage? If V was certain of one thing it was that all of the sacrifices she made were worth it. No regrets there. Surely this would lead to another corporate war; Night City could be changed forever. V was brought back to the present when she heard Song speak again, more quietly this time.

With a heart-wrenching quiver to her voice. "I'm sorry, V. I... shouldn't even be asking anything else of you."

V had to swallow the lump in her throat before finally speaking up, "No, hey... it's alright. We're—we're good, okay? Talk about it all later when you've recovered." With fingers that trembled slightly, the merc reached out to touch her cheek. Cradled it within her palm while letting her thumb stroke over the EMP threading embedded in the soft skin of So Mi's face. She dared to murmur what she'd said once before—as they were witnessing Myers give her final orders to Reed. "I'm stayin'. Not goin' anywhere." She watched So Mi practically nuzzle into her hand, seeking comfort in the touch.

"Thank you, V," was all the netrunner could manage. A tear escaped as she closed her eyes and it would trickle down her cheek until V tenderly wiped it away.

"As long as I'm still drawin' breath, I won't let anyone hurt you again, Song."

That earned a weak, halfhearted chuckle. "You promise?"

"Consider it an oath I can stand behind."

[mor-and-more]

Idk I feel too anxious to Yell At Friends About Creature Lore anymore so Fucket We Ball

Today's creature issssss... Well, me

Or more precisely, my recreation as a cat

Because I got to the Endwalker of Endwalker fame (...yes the namesake quest of the expac hahah) for the 5th time yesterday, and. I Had Thoughts

To begin with, I'm a very unreactive fucker when I'm focused on a goal. So most of my reaction to the Scions sacrificing themselves one by one would be "comfort The Child (Alisaie), carry on". Because that was exactly what I were missing. A chance to just give her a little half-hug and remind that they are by our side

And when it came the twins' turn to do the Heroic Sacrifice(tm) I know that my reaction would be "understood", but. I'd be genuinely surprised and anxious to hear they'd wish for me to find happiness at journey's end. Because even on this side of the screen I immediately started panicked thinking on the topic of "do I even know what is happiness??? Do I Even Know How It Feels???"

Also fifth time I did it, and I still don't recognise most of the Voices From Past. Only if I remember the phrase itself (like Merlwyb's) or with some I kinda guessed, but. Yeah I suck at voice recognition (play clips of Emet-Selch and Zenos talking about something side by side, and I wouldn't be able to tell who is who unless one goes into "this was our beautiful world" and the other into "my friend, my enemy" rants) and don't really remember the phrases themselves

...also I know I would again promise to Emet-Selch to remember them as he'd be disappearing, hahah. Because this is what I told him into the screen, so yeah I'd absolutely say it in person, too

Also. I would totally at least try giving headpats to the Meteion at the Necropolis. Because that poor baby bird couldn't have been well finding the place like this... Aaaand then Alphy repeats what I were thinking then in their talk with her before dissipating, haha

Yes it's not "my" baby bird, but she's still a very scared confused baby bird who found herself terrifyingly lonely in an eerie place devoid of all life, that looked like fucken. Life After People documentaries, except not even animals survived. Yes I am THAT close to "accidentally dissolves itself because of love and concern for the poor baby bird", I know. I can only imagine how confused Meteion would be, haha. "I brought you here to feel despair, what is THAT?????? I'm failing so bad at my job?????" XD

...yes I also would absolutely grab "my" Meteion as a companion after all is said and done and take her on a journey to explore the beautiful Etheirys, as beautiful as ever. Thus, in a way, fulfilling Hermes's wish for her - to learn to walk, to run, to travel and meet many people, albeit not in the outer worlds, but right here. I'm just feeling so normal about the baby bird. I NEED to hug and protect

Also lmfao. In a way, I kinda. Went "you call me a sword in the darkness, and I've ever tried to live up to that. But in truth, I'm but a healer, so. Thancred, please take the van this time, I know you've been rearing to. EVERYONE'S going home today" before The Dead Ends

...and after the Endsinger trial, I keep chuckling to myself that a teleport half a second away from activation would drop on my head from sheer desire to Get Away From THAT GUY (Zenos). Or I'd be so fucken furious about "don't you FUCKING dare say I'm just like you, you stalker creep with unhealthy obsessions" and yeet a spell, a Carbuncle and maybe even myself into him, all at once. Depending on how angry I'd get, hahah. I'm. Not at that point yet, but if I kept going yesterday, I'd have been furious

Zenos makes me annoyed in the "this fucking guy AGAIN, just leave me alone, go die in a ditch without my involvement" way. Which places him way under the arcanists' Actual Guildmaster whom I'd turn into meat paste with my own bare hands, and even under the list of Most Puntable Lalas. I just want a restraining order and some way it'd actually restrain Zenos from showing up. I'm just TIRED and want to be left alone. If Y'shtola called him my number one fan as a joke, I'd probably cry in defeat.

Idk I'm just feeling very powerless because I can't avoid that damn instance just because it features the guy of Please Just Leave Me Alone. I deserve a cat cuddle pile back on the ship as we are travelling back home, not. This

...can you tell that I'm barely awake and extra groggy??