#just like she had when he killed his father/brother

[magicaldestinyharmony]

In Life and Death Pt. 4

male!knight x female!count's daughter!reader part 4

CW: mentions of fire, burning bodies, fighting, beating, abuse, hunting of humans, death, killing, fatal wounds, blood, torture and whipping.

WC: 5.5k words

A/N: I don't know what happened guys I'm sorry (ToT) I blinked and it became this long. Enjoy I guess?

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

“What’s your name?”

“What?” Lucca turns to the female voice beside him, perplexed at the question.

She should already know his name.

“I asked you what your name is,” the fifth daughter of Count Balcom repeats.

Lucca blinks again. Completely and utterly confused. “Why does it matter?” he asks.

“Well, since you’re in my care now, I think I should call you something other than ‘boy’ or ‘you’,” she says.

“You can call me ‘slave’ like everyone else does,” Lucca helpfully supplies.

Her face takes on an Are you crazy? look.

She doesn’t say anything else, clearly waiting for an answer to her earlier question. An answer she isn’t going to get. Lucca keeps his mouth shut, hoping the silence will get her to stop asking and leave. The quiet stretches out.

Finally, she jumps up from her perch on the stool beside his bed. “Fine! It’s obvious you aren’t going to tell me so I’m going to leave and you can keep your stupid name to yourself!”

Instead of feeling satisfied with getting what he wanted, he feels bothered that she’s leaving upset. 

“Wait!” his hand grabs her wrist before she can completely leave.

She cocks an eyebrow, silently demanding he let her go.

“Lucca,” he whispers.

“What?” she asks.

“Lucca,” he repeats, a little louder.

She smiles and sits back down. “Thank you for telling me.”

Lucca inclines his head.

“Can I call you ‘Lucca’?”

He blinks at the question, then nods.

She grins. “Thank you, Lucca.”

◇◇◇

“Mommy?” a much smaller Lucca peaked around the door of his parent’s bedroom.

A graceful woman brought her fingers to her lips, a silent indication to be quiet as she left the bed and approached her youngest son.

“Come, sweetheart, let’s go downstairs before we wake up your father.” The mother picked her son up in her arms and headed to the kitchen on the first floor.

She sat him on a chair, knelt in front of him and grabbed his hands. “Is everything okay, love?”

Lucca sniffled. “I had a nightmare.”

“Oh, Lucca, honey.” She pulled him into her arms again in a comforting hug.

“I woke up alone in the dark and that scared me,” Lucca admitted quietly.

His mom pulled him in even closer and patted his back.

They stayed like that for a while. Nothing like a mother's love to chase away the demons of the night.

“Lucca, love.” She pulled away enough just to wipe away the little boy's tears. “Do you know why I picked ‘Lucca’ as your name?”

Lucca shook his head.

His mom smiled and caressed his cheeks. “‘Lucca’ means ‘bringer of light’. I picked this name at the time you were born because the first time I held you in my arms, the sun's rays burst through clouds, bathing you in its golden light.

“The name sounded fitting. But as you grew up from a tiny infant to a strong, healthy child, I realized that this is the perfect name for you. Everything you do, you do with the biggest smile on your face. Your smile is radiant, my love. Just like the light.”

Lucca watched his mom speak, hanging on to her every word. And when sleep gripped his young form again, he fell to its clutches with a happy smile on his face.

◇◇◇

“Hurry up, Beck, Lucca!” A young girl waved at Lucca and their older brother, beckoning them closer.

“We're coming!” Both boys looked at each other and grinned.

Beck smirked and started sprinting. “Last one to Hazel is a rotten egg!”

“Hey! Not fair!” Lucca took after his brother, trying to reach his older sister first.

Beck, with his head start, reached Hazel. Lucca shuffled in a little later, bending over. “That’s not fair! You should have counted down first!”

“Too bad.” Beck smugly shrugged.

Lucca squinted his eyes at the older boy. Beck is the oldest of three children. Then it's Hazel and Lucca.

Lucca grinned mischievously. “Uh-oh, I don’t like that lo–” Beck started but Lucca lunged at him.

“Whoa!” Beck managed to evade the lunge but Lucca started chasing him around the meadow.

“Boys! That's enough! The picnic is all set up!” their mother called for them.

She sighed, a smile playing on her lips as her boys overlooked her call.

Her husband, the boys' father, laughed. “I'll go get them. Why don't you get Hazel started?”

Hazel reached the sheet and plopped down. Their mother smiled at her family’s antics and settled down beside Hazel.

“Dad! Let us down!” The boys struggled in their father's hold playfully as he neared the picnic. He set them on the sheet and sat next to them.

The family had fun out together all day.

◇◇◇

“Are you sure, Hazel?” Lucca asked.

“Yes, Dad gave me my allowance to use didn't he?” Hazel nodded.

“True. But we aren't supposed to go to the market alone,” Lucca hesitated.

“It'll be fine. We’re old enough aren’t we?” Hazel assured him. “And”–she wiggled her eyebrows–“Mom, Dad and Beck are gonna get home late. If we beat them, how are they gonna know?”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him with her.

“Do you think Beck would like this?” Hazel held up a wooden horse figurine.

“Maybe, he always wanted to ride a horse.” Lucca shrugged.

“Ugh.” Hazel set the figurine back down and sighed. “Why is he so hard to shop for? And you aren't any help at all!”

“You just find it hard,” he teased her. “I’m uninterested because I already got him his gift.” Lucca stuck his hands in his pocket.

Hazel sighed dramatically.

“Let's just go home now, Hazel.” Lucca looked up at the sky. “The sun is gonna set soon. If we don't start going home, we'll get there at night and Mom and Dad will know that we went out without permission..”

Hazel sighed dramatically again. “Fine, you're right. Let's go home.”

The two rented a carriage. Their home was located in the forest. To reach it, you had to go through a bend in the road that led straight to their house.

As the carriage reached the bend, Lucca perked up. He stared out the window intently.

“Stop!” He yelled out to the carriage driver.

The carriage screeched to a halt. “What's wrong, boy?”

Lucca caught Hazel's startled gaze. “Lucca? What's going on?”

Lucca smiled hesitantly. “It’s alright, Hazel. I just remembered that I never bought Beck a gift.”

“That’s not true! You told me you had a gift for him already!” Hazel stared at him with wide panicked eyes.

“I lied. I lied, okay?” Lucca stepped out from the carriage.

He turned around and held Hazel's hands. “Promise me you won't leave the carriage until you reach town.”

“But–”

“Promise me!”

Hazel took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. Will… Will I see you again?”

Lucca smiled sadly. “I love you, Hazel. Forever and ever.”

Tears slid down her cheeks. “Lucca? What do you mean? Lucca?! Why are you say–?!”

Lucca slammed the door shut. Her fists pounded on the wood. “Lucca! Open the do–!”

He moved away, gave the carriage driver money and instructions to drive back to town and ran the rest of the way home.

Lucca stared at the hot, orange, gaping inferno swallowing his home.

Where was his family? His mom, dad and older brother?

Lucca gaped at the sight. He blinked, disbelieving what he was seeing.

He suddenly felt the need to do something. He raced towards the flames destroying his childhood memories.

“A kid! There's a kid running to the fire!”

“What?! Where did he come from!?”

“Is he in his right mind?!”

It was only when Lucca heard the voices, did he see the hooded figures in black. There were multiple of them, moving away from the glowing blaze. Their beady eyes peered at him.

Lucca ignored them and continued into the burning building.

“Mom?! Dad?!” he yelled around, looking for them. “Bec–!”

He gasped. There on the floor are the burnt bodies of his family. Lucca gagged at the smell of burning flesh and dropped to his knees.

“Beck? Beck?!” Lucca nudged the hand of his older brother.

The older brother who comforted him when injured.

The older brother who played with him.

The older brother who would sneak him food at night.

The older brother who had a smile that lit up the room.

The older brother who had an infectious laugh.

The older brother who's lifeless now.

The older brother who he can't see, hear, smell or touch anymore.

The scream that burst out of Lucca is gut-wrenching.

His face hardened.

He will never forgive the people who took his happiness from him.

Never.

He got up.

Ever.

Wiped his tears.

Ever.

Once Lucca stepped into the warm, dark air, it was with the determination to get revenge.

He glared at the men in black. He took one menacing step forward, then another. They snickered at him. What can a child do against many, grown mercenaries?

Lucca growled and picked up the nearest and heaviest branch. His roar had adult men hesitating.

“Capture him. Alive,” an authoritative voice called out from the darkness.

“Yes, my lord!” The mercenaries surrounded Lucca, holding swords.

A small fight ensues. Lucca managed to knock down five mercenaries before he was captured.

A hooded figure in red stepped out from the blackness. Lucca was made to kneel in front of him.

“You are one bold kid.” The man took off his hood, revealing his face.

“Do you know who I am, kid?” he demanded.

When Lucca refused to respond, the man gestured at one of the mercenaries.

The next thing he felt was the hot, searing pain of being kicked.

“Well?” the man urged him.

Lucca still didn't say anything.

Another gesture, another kick, more pain.

Lucca grunted.

The man raised an eyebrow.

“No,” Lucca spitted out.

“There you go. Was that so hard?” the mysterious man asked.

Lucca shrugged and went silent again.

“Well,” the man started. “I’m Count Balcom, the closest advisor to the emperor, one of the wealthiest nobles in the empire and have one of the best lineages.”

Lucca just stared blankly at the count. As a commoner, he wasn’t the most knowledgeable about nobles and their complicated ways.

Count Balcom walked around Lucca, giving him an appraising look.

“You would make for interesting prey.” He crouched and held Lucca’s chin up. “There’s fire in your eyes. I’m sure quenching it would feel fantastic.”

“I will never break. Never,” Lucca growled.

The count backed away and laughed. “It would be better if you cooperated.” He tapped his chin. “I believe a carriage was here. It was carrying your sister wasn’t it?”

Lucca’s eyes widened. “You leave her alone!”

Count Balcom laughed again and grinned wickedly. “If you cooperate, I’ll leave her alone.”

Lucca didn’t even hesitate. “If she stays safe I’ll come with you.”

The count gave an eerie smile. “I give you my word.” He turned to a nearby mercenary. “Take him to the wagon.”

The mercenary nodded and Count Balcom left in a flourish of red robes.

Lucca might have walked into the Balcom Manor willingly but it was hell on earth. He was abused daily and deprived of meals and water. He gave up figuring out time, in that damp, dark, dingy cell.

He hated it. What did he do to deserve this? What did his family do to deserve death?

These thoughts never left him. They circled and screamed. Wanting attention.

Yet he held on.

He must survive. He must survive. He must survive for Hazel. If he dies before he lets him he’ll kill her.

He ate whatever he was given and held on.

Then one day, Lucca was taken out of that gloomy cell. He was put on a wagon and taken to a forest.

When he saw the arrows and horses, he realized what the count meant by ‘prey’. He was going to be hunted.

He was instructed to stay in a small, open field in the woods. The field was beautiful with big trees and colourful flowers. It wasn’t a bad place to die.

He survived for Hazel. Keep on living, okay, Hazel?

When the arrow hit his heart, he had one last thought, he would finally be able to see his loving family again.

However, when Lucca opened his eyes, it wasn’t to the sight of his late family. It was to the sight of a mass of people yelling.

“The Divine Warrior woke up!”

“It’s the Divine Warrior!”

“Save us, Divine Warrior!”

Lucca was confused. What was going on?!

The High Priest explained it all.

Apparently every 1000 years, the evil dragon, Tanan, manages to break the seal placed on him. And every 100 years a Divine Warrior is born.

The Divine Warrior has a stronger physique, superior senses, a good intuition, heals faster, uses aura and has three lives. That means that the Divine Warrior has two other chances at life if death gets to them. 

The Divine Warrior awakens when they turn 18. If they die before that, their soul is preserved at the Grand Temple. Once their soul turns 18, they awaken in their older body. Once awakened, two marks appear on the Divine Warrior’s hand. It is only visible to them and counts how many lives they have left.

The job of the Divine Warrior is to reseal Tanan. If Tanan hasn’t broken free yet, their job is to save the people from evil beasts who are his underlings.

As of right now, Lucca has already lost one life, courtesy of Count Balcom.

“I see,” Lucca said, staring out the window. “So now what?”

“Now,” the High Priest began. “Now, you start your training. It is soon time for the evil dragon to break free.”

“Very well.” Lucca turned to face the older man. “But first, I want you to find someone for me.”

The High Priest nodded. “Sure. Who are they?”

“Hazel. Her name is Hazel Puhlavan.”

“What?! She's what?!” Lucca slammed his fist on his mahogany desk.

“I apologize, Your Eminence. Hazel Puhlavan is dead,” the High Priest repeated.

Lucca shoved away from his desk. She was dead?!

“But how?! I did exactly as he said,” he murmured.

Lucca whirled around to face the man. “How? No, when?”

The High Priest bowed slightly, fearing the Divine Warrior’s wrath. “She was killed on a carriage three years ago. It seemed like murder but the case was closed because of insufficient evidence.”

“Damn it!” The desk received another punch.

He shouldn't have trusted that bastard's words. 

Hazel was dead but he was here and alive.

Lucca dropped back into his seat. “You're dismissed.”

The High Priest immediately scurried off.

Lucca sighed. He survived this long for what? To find out that the fate of the world rests in his hands? To find out that his sister is dead?

What did he do to deserve this?

“Hahaha! A mere mortal tries to defeat me? Me, the great Tanan?!”

Lucca wondered if all the Divine Warriors before him had to go through this. The evil dragon is very full of himself.

“Come at me, mortal. You'll never be able to defeat me!”

Lucca gripped the Divine Sword. It's the Divine Warrior’s ultimate weapon. It's crafted from lodyed, a precious stone given to Divine Warriors. It allows them to imbue the Divine Sword with aura.

Red light glinted on the silver, polished blade, giving it a crimson look. With Tanan came, what the temple calls, the Haur Moon. It's the source of his power and hangs in the sky. Shadows cast the field of the face-off in black. The combination of red and black gave the place an ominous feeling.

Tanan stood tall, taunting Lucca with his prowess.

“If you're so great, how come you keep getting resealed?” Lucca raised an eyebrow.

“How dare you! You're a mere human!” Tanan lunged at Lucca in anger. 

A deadly fight starts.

The evil dragon shot a fireball. Lucca jumped away to avoid it.

The bloody dance continued. Lucca swung his sword. It grazed the dragon’s arm. Tanan roared. His massive tail came crashing down beside Lucca, creating a big dust cloud causing him to cough. 

The dust blocked his vision. His head snapped up just in time to see the mighty tail strike again. Lucca raised his sword to injure and ran backwards, keeping the sword up. He left a gaping, bloody wound in his wake. Tanan howled, no doubt in pain.

“Where are you, human?! I will destroy you!”

While Tanan frantically looked around for him, Lucca used the shadows to his advantage. He crept up on Tanan. Using his aura to propel him upwards, Lucca jumped to land the final strike on Tanan's head.

“There you are!” the dragon suddenly turned around, his eyes gleaming wickedly. 

Lucca's own eyes widened in surprise.

Tanan struck Lucca with his claw. He barely eluded the fatal point but it still pierced his arm.

“Ugh.” Lucca got the wind knocked out of him when his back hit the ground.

With his arm bleeding, Lucca stood again. He grabbed his sword.

It was time to end this. It was Lucca or the dragon.

Lucca jumped again and growled. He imbued the Divine Sword with aura. When he penetrated the hard layer of scales and the soft tissue under, so did Tanan's sharp claw into his torso.

Lucca heaved as blood rushed up his throat. He fell with a thud and coughed some more.

Tanan thundered and collapsed in a heap on the field. The evil dragon has finally been defeated.

I have to perform the sealing spell.

Lucca blinked against the blackness filling his vision. He coughed up more blood.

I have to–

The blackness consumed him.

Lucca convulsed and opened his eyes. The once red field was now bathed in a reddish-orange glow. Lucca spied the sun sinking below the horizon. The Haur Moon was gone.

He sighed. Everything was finally over. Two gruelling years of training have finally paid off.

Lucca spotted Tanan’s black form.

Well, everything was mostly over.

He sat up and propped his arm on his knee. The gash Tanan left him has healed completely. No matter how many times it happened, Lucca’s ability to quickly heal never ceased to amaze him.

A glance at his right hand told him what he feared. He lost another life. Only one gold mark remained. It sparkled in the glow of the sunset. Lucca had one more chance at life.

Lucca sighed again and raised his tired form. He trudged over to the source of much grief and horror.

With the evil dragon defeated, Lucca can finally breathe easy.

It would also be time for his vengeance.

After finishing the sealing spell, Lucca headed out to perform the necessary steps to complete his revenge.

He would amass great power and wealth. And once he did, he would destroy Count Balcom.

Screams filled the dim halls of Balcom Manor.

“No! Please! Please have mercy!” A maid cried at his feet.

Lucca silenced her sobs. He didn't even twitch at the smell and sight of red oozing out of the corpse on the heart pine wood floors.

The staff that weren't on the floor cowered. Lucca brandished his sword and restained the wood red.

Yells echoed in his ears but he kept moving.

Lucca would get his revenge.

“Stop right there, you monster!”

He looked up to see a flock of knights blocking his advance.

“You won’t make it past us!” The knights all pointed their blades at him.

Lucca laughed. His face hardened and he charged. The sound of piercing flesh reverberated in the hallway.

“Wa-wait! Please spare me!” The last knight recoiled.

“Where is Count Balcom?” Lucca prompted.

“H-he’s in the ballroom. The re-rest of the ar-army is with him,” the cowering man gulped.

“Thanks.” Lucca stabbed the knight.

He stepped over the body and continued in the direction of the ballroom.

When Lucca reached the immense mahogany doors, his sword was dripping and his dark blue clothes were splattered with the same liquid.

When the doors swung open, shouts rang out.

“Stop! Drop your weapon!”

“Surrender and you might be spared!”

But one voice stood out. “You’re one brave young man. Your rampage ends here!” Lucca recognized the condescending tone.

He scoffed. All of his staff lay dead and all he did was barricade himself here.

Lucca swung his sword, cutting knights down left and right.

Count Balcom stared in horror at the man who was slaughtering his knights. A wary smile played on the count’s face. He was arrogant enough to think he was invincible. However, when Lucca towered over him, the smile fell off his face.

“Wait! Tell me what you want! Money? Power? Women?” Count Balcom reeled and Lucca stepped forward.

“If you want women, I have plenty of daugh–”

“Why did you burn that house in the forest five years ago?” Lucca cut him off.

Confusion marked the man’s face. “What?”

“And the girl. Why did you kill the girl in the carriage?” Lucca asked again.

After a long silence, it became apparent that the count didn’t know what Lucca was asking.

Lucca laughed. It was a sad, bitter and angry sound.

All that fury and resentment and anticipation for revenge. The five years he spent bending to powerful figures to get honour and wealth. They all amount to nothing if he couldn’t inflict pain and fear upon Count Balcom’s haughty face.

In his daze, Lucca didn’t notice when Count Balcom picked up a sword from a fallen knight.

“Die, you filthy peasant!” The count sloppily swung the sword in a feeble attempt at killing.

Lucca easily avoided the blade and retorted with a swing of his own. His sword plunged swiftly into Count Balcom's chest.

“I hope you rot in hell,” Lucca whispered in the count’s ear.

Lucca left the man in a bloody heap on the once beautiful heartwood floors and took off to find the rest of the Balcom family.

Now there was one left. The fifth daughter.

Lucca approached the fifth daughter’s chambers. She was the last piece to complete his revenge.

He opened the doors and an eerie creak sounded out. He found her standing in the room with her back to him. The moonlight barely illuminated her form.

Lucca’s sword grazed the wooden floors. He stopped right behind the woman. He knew she was the fifth daughter, yet he asked anyway, “Are you the fifth daughter of Count Balcom?”

She turned around and said, “No. I think you have the wrong person.”

Lucca scowled. He wasn’t expecting the sarcasm. The woman gave him a once-over.

Silence rang out. Big and heavy.

“Spare me!” cut the sinister quiet.

She boldly stared into his eyes.

“No.” He didn’t hesitate. No one associated with the Balcom name will live. He would make sure of it.

The woman frowned. “If-if I saved you and prevented that ‘incident’, would you spare me?”

He snickered. Nothing anyone did would erase the pain, guilt and sorrow. It won’t bring his family back to life, would it?

“No. The only way I would spare you is if you drain all of the Balcom blood from your body. Only then would you be spared.” As long as the Balcom blood ran through her veins he would kill her.

She flinched at the gleam of his ruby-coloured sword. With a sudden movement, the woman swallowed something and doubled over in pain. Lucca hesitated, confused. But just as quickly, she fell to the floor and clutched her chest.

A weird feeling washed over him. He blinked. However, when he opened his eyes again, it wasn't to the moonlit room.

◇◇◇

“Is he still in the wagon?” a masculine voice asked.

“Yeah, I made sure of it. The last thing we need is Count Balcom’s anger,” another answered.

Lucca looked around him, very bewildered. What he saw was an oak wood wagon. Crates and barrels filled it, crowding the small space. The contents were jostled around with the caravan’s movements.

He remembered this wagon. Lucca was brought to Balcom Manor on this wagon. Was this an illusion? Did that woman cast some spell on him?

The caravan abruptly halted to a stop. Lucca heard gravel crunching under leather boots before the back covering was removed.

“Come on, kid. Get out. Don’t pull any tricks or the girl gets it.” The same grotesque mercenary and the same words.

This wasn’t making any sense.

Lucca was roughly pulled out of the wagon and brought before Count Balcom.

“Let’s go, son. I’ll show you your new home.” The count stood at the front doors with a conceited grin on his lips.

He motioned for Lucca to go in first. Stepping inside, Lucca saw the foyer. The front hall was beautifully decorated. A grand and alluring glass chandelier graced the cream-coloured plaster ceiling. An immense wooden staircase stood at the back of the space. Lots of vases with colourful flowers filled the chestnut-coloured corners. In the heart of it, the staff and the occupants of the manor bowed in greeting of its owner.

A girl eased out of her curtsy and focused on him. She looked like a younger version of the fifth daughter. She frowned in confusion at the sight of him.

Did she place a curse on him? Was he now fated to relive the grief, regret and misery? Did she think that having him relive all of that would spare her?

Well, she was mistaken. He would never spare a living Balcom. Just like he lost everything and everyone he held dear and fell into misery he would make sure that they felt despair too.

“Hey, you!” Count Balcom rudely bellowed from behind him. “Take the boy to the dungeons.”

A maid nodded and hurried him down. Down to darkness and torture.

Lucca blinked and saw feminine features. The fifth daughter peered down at him.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “I tried to be as gentle as possible. I’m sorry if it hurts.” 

Only then did Lucca notice the salve and gauze sitting beside the girl. The throb on his back was evidence of her treatment.

Was this some kind of new game? A new form of torture?

She pulled out bread from her bag. “Here, I got you some food.”

Lucca stared at her. Was she going to show him kindness and then brutally stab him in the back? Was she going to give him light in this blackness and then take it away?

She took out a pastel pink handkerchief and placed it with the bread in front of him.

He blinked three times.

“Don’t worry! I didn’t do anything to the bread. It’s not poisoned or anything,” she affirmed.

When he didn’t say anything, she sighed. “Alright. I’ll leave you alone.” She stood and dusted herself off. “I’ll come back tomorrow to heal your wounds and get you some food!”

Her absence didn’t quiet his raging thoughts.

The same events over the next 10 years repeated themselves. Getting killed at Count Balcom’s hand, waking up as the Divine Warrior, resealing Tanan and currying favour with the kings of the continent.

The only change was the death of Count Balcom’s fifth daughter. He found her in the same room but he managed to cut her down and she didn’t swallow anything.

Yet the same strange feeling engulfed him again.

◇◇◇

“He-her Ladyship isn't at th-the manor,” the attendant stammered.

“Explain,” Lucca urged.

“Sh-she left as so-soon as she turned 18. No one has he-heard anything from her ever since.”

Lucca laughed. So she was the one who sent him back in time. Did she think leaving would stop him?

With a slash of his sword, Lucca stopped the sputtering man in his tracks. “Thanks.”

The fluttering of Lucca's cape echoed in the soundless manor as he left in pursuit of the runaway lady.

“There you are. I finally found you,” Lucca spoke to her turned form.

She froze. “I admit that leaving the empire was a smart move on your part. It was quite hard to track you down,” Lucca continued.

She didn’t say anything.

“Well, I guess the chase ends here.” Lucca raised his sword and struck her.

For some reason, the sight of her blood on his sword and the sand made him frown. And the same weird feeling from before made him frown harder.

◇◇◇

At the sight of the same oak wood wagon for the fourth time, Lucca sighed deeply.

These time loops need to stop. And the fifth daughter of Count Balcom has the answer.

This time, Count Balcom’s fifth daughter got married to a baron in the countryside.

“Stupid wench! You dare talk back to me? If I tell you to do something, you do it! Why do you never learn?! Do I always have to beat you for you to understand?!”

Lucca shook as he saw the man strike her.

How dare he hurt her?

Lucca kicked down the door and pulled out his sword.

“Who dares to interrupt me?! I specifi–” Lucca didn't let him finish. He landed a blow on his jaw.

“Ho-how dare you!” the man spluttered on the floor.

Lucca scoffed. This man has some guts.

With a slash, the man’s head rolled. A low shriek made him turn around. The sight of the fifth daughter hunched over on the ground reminded him of his purpose.

The haze of anger cleared and the red faded away. He loomed over her.

What was he doing? She was the daughter of his enemy. He couldn’t be feeling bad for her. She was the reason he was reliving his life for the fourth time.

With another slash, Lucca killed her. And on cue, the strange feeling came again.

◇◇◇

“Th-the lady has gone crazy!”

“She was de-demanding ways to drain her bl-blood!”

“Count Balcom or-ordered her to re-re-recuperate at the southern villa!”

“She hurts herself all the time!”

“She has truly gone insane!”

Lucca’s steps reverberated in the hall of the Balcom Southern Villa. It wasn’t hard to locate. A quick interrogation of the servants also told him where the room of its occupant was.

He stopped at the door. Through hell or high water, I will find you and kill you.

Lucca opened the oak wood door. The room was nicely done in shades of light blue and white. But the appearance of the fifth daughter made him frown.

She was tucked into bed. But the iron chains holding her hands up were a morose contrast to the elegant room. Her head was down, her hair a curtain to her face.

He trod into the room and she looked up. The sight of her face was worse. Scratches lined her cheeks and there were bags under her eyes. Her body was skinny and marred by scars and wounds. Her eyes remained blank as she took him in.

For some reason, Lucca’s heart hurt. With a jolt, he realized that he hated seeing her like this. Helpless and wounded.

But Lucca wasn’t one for emotions. So he struck her anyway. His eyes closed in anticipation of the same feeling.

◇◇◇

She approached him. “Hello. Are you alright?”

“For injuring my precious daughter, you will receive 15 whips.” The count grinned creepily.

With a grip on her head, the girl responded, “N-no. Wh-when wronged, we sh-should give back tenfold what we received. I-it’s the Balcom way, right?”

“Take him to the dungeons and make sure to give him his punishment.” With that, Count Balcom departed.

At the intense throbbing from the whip marks, Lucca opened his eyes. He saw Count Balcom’s fifth daughter and scowled. She glared at him, shook her head and continued working.

She patched up his last wound, left some bread and got up. He watched her in silence. Why did she keep helping him, a murderer? No matter how many times he killed her, she treated him without fail.

“Why do you care?” His voice was a little hoarse.

“You got hurt because of me. Of course, I care,” she said firmly.

He scoffed and she shrugged.

She started leaving and Lucca crushed the urge to stop her. To tell her to stay. To tell her that she was the only kindness he experienced through all the time loops. To tell her that he–no he shouldn’t be having these thoughts. She was the daughter of his enemy and, therefore, his enemy as well.

Lucca turned to his side, giving her his back. He heard her footsteps fade away as he told himself to not be emotional. He couldn’t afford it. Survival wasn’t for the weak and emotional. And he certainly wasn’t weak and emotional.

◇◇◇

“Lucca! Are you listening to me?” Count Balcom’s fifth daughter exclaims.

“Ah.” Lucca nods.

She smiles. “So, as I was saying–” she continues telling her tale.

Truth is, Lucca didn't hear most of her story. He was too busy watching her animatedly talking.

Tags!

@dreamlessnight

[lightdancingwords]

One Day - Part One of ?

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character Series Summary: You were rescued by Dean Winchester a long time ago. Over time, you kept bumping into each other.

Word Count: 4,556

Tags/Warnings: Violence, profanity, murder/death/kill, angst, arguments, slaps, mention of torture, monsters/supernatural

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! This story is AU as it does veer a bit from the history we see in Season 1 of Supernatural. There will be references to episodes and seasons, but it'll change as the chapters come. Enjoy the ride!

Dividers: credit to @talesmaniac89

Chapter One: The First Time

Dean was in a mood. Sam had just left for Stanford—and God, that was one Hell of a fight to break up between his brother and John—and his father…. Well, John had been trusting Dean to go on hunts by himself for a while now. Like a good little soldier, doing what daddy said.

After Sam left, John just muttered about how he had a job to do and he had damned well go do it. So… Dean hopped into the Impala and started looking for newspapers to track down the next monster to hunt.

There was a hint of something—a missing person’s case—that didn’t sit right with Dean. He made some phone calls, impersonated an official or two, the usual—and off he went to a cozy little city in Indiana, home of Purdue University.

Go Boilers! Right?

Ugh.

Not that it hurt to see all the hot chicks. Man, college girls….

His missing person’s case was, unfortunately for his libido, not one of the Sororities. He wished it was. He knew pornos weren’t accurate, but wouldn’t it have been nice if they were?

God. He needed to get laid.

He yanked his attention back to the missing person’s case, and realized that while he was driving, investigating, and basically from the date of the first case, three more had gone missing. The monster, whatever it was, was being systematic.

Every single one of the missing persons came from the same floor as this one off-campus apartment complex. If you could call a whacked up house divided into four individual studios an apartment complex.

He tracked down the very last person from that complex, a pretty teenage girl, fresh to college named Y/N.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, trying very hard to stay focused on the hunt and not flirt with her. “You don’t know why the others have gone missing?”

“That’s right,” she said, regarding this ridiculously young looking man dubiously. He didn’t dress like an investigator nor did he act like one.

“Did you know them well?”

She shook her head, fidgeting on the sofa. In the course of two weeks, four people in the building had gone missing. She was the last one left and was, quite honestly, freaking out.

Four studio apartments, four people. Two of them had just moved in together. She was, literally, the last one standing.

“Any weird people hanging around? Repair folks? Maintenance guys? Anything?”

She shook her head again. “No. The only person that came around in the last month was the landlord.”

“Oh yeah? Why’d he come around?”

She let out a sigh. “I really wish I knew. Just something about annual inspection, but we just moved in like… two months ago, right when the semester started.”

“Really? Huh.” That was a potential clue for Dean. He wasn’t sure why the monster would wait almost two months, but maybe there was something related.

“All right, well, if you think of anything, please let me know, okay?”

“I,.. yeah, I will.”

Dean took one look at her and knew she wasn’t going to. He had the feeling she was suspicious about him, but that was nothing new. He just really, really wished he could ask her out for some drinks and then—

God. He really needed to get laid.

She escorted him to the door and shut it firmly behind him. He had a few options, none of them easy. He debated tracking down where the previous missing persons were last seen, but that meant leaving Y/N unguarded. If Sam hadn’t been an idiot, he could’ve done the investigating while Dean played bodyguard.

In the end, Dean parked the Impala out of sight of the apartment complex while giving him sufficient view to keep Y/N safe. And waited.

It took hours. Painfully long hours. Dean was going insane at the wait. But his patience—pfft, what patience?—was rewarded. He saw something, someone, lurking about the complex. He sat up, squinted in the dim lighting.

Oh yeah, there was definitely something there. He grabbed his gun with one hand and the flashlight in the other, and went running.

The drawback of having to park far was that by the time he reached the building, the thing broke into Y/N’s apartment. Broken glass and wood splinters was everywhere, and he cursed up a storm.

Just as he burst through the shattered doorway, he heard Y/N screaming. Without a thought, Dean jumped over the overturned coffee table and saw it—them.

She was actually pushing the monster back, punching and kicking, which won a glint of Dean’s respect, and he got a good view of it: vampire, from the looks of the fangs.

“Hey, ugly!”

The vampire—God, those fangs were nothing like those from movies—turned to see Dean and snarled. It grabbed the girl, shit, and all but flung her into Dean,

Unwilling to let her crash into the coffee table, Dean caught her and went limp as they went down. More wood shattered and he grunted while she cried out, more out of fear than actual injury, he’d wager.

Normally Dean would be all about having a girl on top—maybe even quip that joke—but he had the wind knocked out of him. Just as he tried to shove the girl out of his arms, he saw the vampire leave with a hiss, running out the door.

“Shit,” he cursed, scrambled to his feet and rushed out the door.

Too late.

It was gone.

“Dammit!” His back was aching, his lungs were sore, and he had nothing to pay for it. With more profanities under his breath, he came back inside the apartment.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, going over to the girl to help her get up.

“No, I’m not okay! What the hell was that?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said.

“Try me,” she said, dusting off her rear. God, what a nice ass.

“All right. It’s a vampire.”

She froze, and stared at Dean. “Excuse me?”

He grinned lopsidedly. “Told ya you wouldn’t believe me.”

“You’re right. I don’t. Vampires aren’t real,” she insisted, ignoring the trembling of her hands. Vampires might not be real, but she also knew what she saw: some man with what looked to be monstrous teeth.

“Then explain what you just saw,” he challenged. He marveled at her composure. Not many would be this calm after having had their home broken into and being nearly fed on.

“I…” She stopped. She couldn’t. Not really.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” Dean raked his fingers through his hair and let out a breath. “Listen. It isn’t safe to stay here.”

She glanced at Dean, then deliberately looked over at her busted front door. “No shit, Sherlock.”

He grinned. She had fire. He liked that. “You got any place to stay?” he asked, wildly tempted to offer her a motel room and then share it with her.

“N-no…” She bit her lip. “Nothing local. I’m from California.”

He paused and arched a brow. “No kidding’? Why’d you come here?”

“Veterinary school. One of the best and I wanted to get out of the state for a bit.” She paused, then shook her head. “Real smart of me.”

Dean actually felt bad for her. No doubt she wanted to experience a bit of the country, get out of her hometown, and just do the usual college kid thing to do. Instead, her neighbors go missing and she was attacked in her apartment. What a life.

“Okay, well… can you stay at a motel?” he asked.

“I don’t have any money,” she said ruefully. “I can’t…” God, she doubted the landlord had a spare door even if she called him about the break-in. It’d take time, and it wouldn’t be safe.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean insisted. “It’s on me.”

“I am not having sex with you,” she said.

She was so blunt Dean actually did a double-take and laughed. “I wasn’t even going there,” he said with a wry grin. “Look. I’m a hunter, okay? I hunt the supernatural. I’m just helping out here, okay?”

She frowned, wary. He did save her, she had to admit. Could have left her there and chased it down. Even left her to deal with a broken door, the late night police call, everything, all on her own.

“I… o-okay. Can I grab some stuff first?”

“Yeah, go do that. I’ll call the police for you so you got it on file, okay?” That way the landlord’s insurance would cover damages, get her door replaced.

It took an hour, some manipulation of the truth, and then Dean and Y/N were heading to the nearest Motel 6. He ended up having to take her in his car as she didn’t have one. She walked to the college or took the bus, which was why she lived so close by the university.

It felt awkward and weird to ask for two rooms—she insisted, as she wasn’t comfortable sharing a room with a total stranger—but Dean was willing to roll with it. Just chalked it up to a weird case all around.

He was yanking off his boots when he heard a knock at the door. Puzzled, he peered through the peephole and saw her outside his door. He’d be damned lucky if she wanted sex after all. Celebration of life and all that crap.

He was crestfallen a moment later when he opened the door.

“What did you mean, you hunt monsters?”

Damn pornos and their fake stories. He stepped aside to let her in and shut the door. “Just what I said. I hunt monsters.”

“But… monsters aren’t real,” she insisted. For a moment she seemed small and vulnerable. Dean felt an inkling of compassion, wanted to comfort her. He held back, shoved his hands in his coat pockets.

“I know it’s easier to believe that, but they’re real. Vampires, werewolves, Wendigo, ghosts, all that crap.”

“I-if they were real, why isn’t it common knowledge? Why hasn’t the government done anything about them?”

She was trying hard to logic her way through it. Determined chick. “Well, regarding common knowledge… people like to believe that the world isn’t that bad. That there aren’t monsters that go bump in the night. It’s easier to believe they hallucinated and forget it ever happened.”

She regarded Dean dubiously. “And the government?”

“Now that I can’t tell ya. I don’t know. I never met a Man in Black so I’d have to guess they’re a little busy dealing with other shit.” He scratched at his chin.

He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was more than a little freaked out. She wasn’t sure how to reconcile what happened, what she saw.

“How do… what am I supposed to do?” She sank down at the edge of the motel bed, wrapped her arms around herself.

“What do you mean?” He joined her on the bed, maintained a polite distance between them. God she smelled good. Like white jasmine.

“I just can’t go back to class pretending I never saw a vampire,” she said, her brows drawn. “Or that my neighbors weren’t attacked and eaten by them.”

Dean cleared his throat, uncertain how to approach her situation. He rarely bothered talking to one of the potential victims this long before. Other hunts he just tracked down and killed, leaving the authorities to deal with the mess. It wasn’t as if John walked him through this shit.

“Well, uh, I guess it’s up to you,” he said honestly. “I’m gonna find this vamp and take it down. That should solve the problem.”

“For this one, sure,” she said, and glanced at Dean. “But what about next time? I mean, you said ghosts?”

“Yep. Unhappy spirits. Demons. You name it, we’ve dealt with them.”

“I don’t…” she trailed off. She looked so lost, Dean felt it in his heart. He had a rather good idea of how she felt, given his exposure to the supernatural at a tender young age.

Ever since Mary died, ever since he saw his mother burning on the ceiling and his father tasking him to keep Sam safe, Dean’s innocence had been lost. He became cynical at a very young age. To him, life was hunting monsters and keeping Sam safe.

Sam was gone now. All that was left was the hunt.

“Take some time to think on it, Y/N,” he said at last, knowing it was awful advice but he had nothing else to offer.

“But I have class tomorrow. How am I supposed to act?”

He bit his lower lip. “Maybe don’t go. We don’t know why this vampire was targeting you and your neighbors.”

“Miss class? Are you insane?”

“What? It’s just class,” he scoffed.

She stared at him. “You’ve never been to college, have you?”

“Nope.” His cocky grin spoke volumes. “Kinda wish I had though. College chicks are hot.”

She rolled her eyes. “College is expensive. Me getting a scholarship to pay for my tuition was a miracle. I can’t afford to fail.”

“Well, it’s not safe for you to go until I catch that vampire,” he argued. God, this chick was stubborn.

Her expression hardened. “I’m not missing class, Dean.”

She won the argument. Damn chick was stubborn as hell. Dean agreed to a compromise: she went to class, he followed her everywhere while doing as many phone calls as he could achieve. Then went absolutely stir crazy while he waited.

She had two classes, which were a good couple of hours long. Then she used the computer lab to do her homework. All in all, he spent about eight hours there.

On the way back, they stopped at her apartment to meet with the landlord. Dean whipped out his fake ID again.

“So you’re saying the annual inspection is unrelated to the disappearances,” Dean said, pressing on the landlord hard. He wasn’t the vampire, but he acted strangely. Didn’t seem to care that someone busted down a door or that four of his tenants went missing.

“That’s right,” the landlord said, his expression hard and shuttered. “I don’t like your implications. Who’s your supervisor?”

“Nunya,” Dean said, annoyed. “Look. Four people are missing and your last remaining tenant got attacked. You’re saying you don’t give a shit?”

“I’m saying I don’t care as long as bills are paid. I’ve already notified the next of kin to come get their belongings. I’m replacing the door. What else do you want me to do?” The landlord was of height to Dean, and glared at him.

Dean wished he could throw down with this jerk. Uncooperative bastard. There was something off about the guy, but Dean couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Fine! What about a security system then?” Dean challenged. “I’m not leaving Y/N to get attacked again!”

“That’s your problem, son!”

Right then and there, Dean very nearly clobbered the guy. Y/N grabbed his arm, hastily saying his name. “Dean… Dean! Stop!”

Dean threw her a furious look, his green eyes dark. He was absolutely disliking how this asshole was approaching the situation. He was not about to leave Y/N alone without something better than a door to keep her safe.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith,” Y/N said calmly. “I appreciate the door being replaced.”

The landlord scoffed, glared at Dean and muttered something about how it’d be replaced within the hour. And left. She waited a moment, then turned on Dean in a fury.

“What is wrong with you?!”

“Me? That jackass is a part of this, I’m damned sure of it! And he’s just leaving you to get killed!” Dean wanted to punch something. Or kick. Preferably the landlord.

“If that’s how you treat human beings, I hate to see how you handle harmless monsters,” she shot back.

“Sweetheart, there aren’t any harmless monsters,” he said, wrenching his arm free of her grip.

“That you know of,” she challenged. God, this chick was going to give him a headache. Wait. He was already getting one.

“Christ. What are you, some monster version of PETA?”

She took a deep breath, contemplated slapping him, and counted to ten. Then, mustering as much calm as she could, she fixed a look on Dean. “Look. He can’t do anything else, okay? So what… what can we do?”

In that moment it took everything he had to not joke about fucking. She’d probably hit him. He cleared his throat, calmed down his temper if not his libido. “God. Uh. Okay.” He rubbed his scalp, let out a huff. “Okay. Great. He’s fixing the door. That’s still not gonna keep you safe.”

“Then what? W-what about crucifixion? Holy water?”

“Unfortunately, sweetheart, that’s all Hollywood. Not gonna work.” He let out a breath. God, he deserved Sainthood for what he was about to do. “I can stay with you. Play bodyguard until I catch the vamp.”

“Excuse me?” She looked so offended, Dean wasn’t sure how to take that. He wasn’t ugly, come on. He also liked to think he wasn’t that bad in bed. His flings and one-night stands didn’t seem to complain. Yeesh.

“I can stay here,” he said slowly, enunciating carefully. “I’ll crash on your couch. Play bodyguard.”

“For how long?!”

“For however long it takes! Do you want to die?!” he shot back. He was so frustrated, he was absolutely about to lose it.

“Well, no! No one wants to die!” She threw her hands in the air. “This is a studio apartment, Dean! Ever heard of privacy?!”

Dean counted to ten. Then again. Nope, he wasn’t calm. Not this time. “Look,” he said, his anger heavily restrained. “This isn’t exactly what I was hopin’ to do, sweetheart. I was hoping to just come here, kill some monsters, and go on my merry way. Not play babysitter!”

“Well then, go ahead! Leave!” She flung a hand to the door, glaring at him. She stood there for long moments, waiting almost impatiently. “Well?!”

“Jesus Christ, you’re annoying! Look, I’m not leaving you here to get killed, Y/N!” He stormed up to her, almost nose to nose. God, he had problems all right if he found this ridiculously hot. “So suck it up, I’m crashing on your couch!”

Sparks were almost flying from her eyes, she was so damned pissed. She let out an angry grunt, spin on her heels and stalked into her bathroom. The door slammed behind her a moment later. He heard a yell of frustration after that and almost did the same himself.

“I’m grabbing stuff from my car! Don’t go anywhere!” he yelled out to the bathroom. He heard something that was undoubtedly profanities. He grinned. “Definitely my kind of girl,” he said with a chuckle, and headed out the doorway.

He popped the trunk, and then the hidden floor for what he’d need. Machete, his gun and— He never finished that thought as something hard smashed his head into the trunk and flung him to the ground. Dazed, he could barely focus as he saw something head into Y/N’s apartment. “No…” he groaned, unable to get up. His head was spinning too hard.

Barely seconds later, he heard something smash inside followed by a scream, this time full of fear. He heard his name. It was Y/N. She was screaming for him. “Come on… get up…” He struggled, rolled over, and nearly fell flat on his face. Just as he was pushing his way up, trying to control the sudden nausea that came from his head injury, a booted pair of feet came into his line of sight.

That was the last thing he saw before his face was kicked in.

Dean wasn’t proud of himself. He tracked down Mr. Smith, all but beat the shit out of him to find out his link to the vampire. Turned out it was some obscene, whacky slumlord scheme, all to get him money while the vampire feasts like a king. How it was never revealed before, Dean had no idea—and didn’t give a damn. He had to find Y/N.

John might object to how Dean handled it, but, well, his father wasn’t there. Sam would be too tender-hearted, maybe. Dean would do it again, if he had to. He failed Y/N, after all. Let the damned vampire get up behind him and knock him silly. It was damned embarrassing. John would probably lecture him on letting his guard down.

He probably wouldn’t tell his father, nope. Not up to proving his father he was a disappointment… again.

Regardless, he found out where the vampire was taking Y/N. The vamp took her and his other victims to some abandoned farm silo west of West Lafayette in some middle of bum-fucking-nowhere Indiana. Some little dinky town called Oxford.

He navigated down the streets, mindful of the unlit streets. “God, did these people never hear of street lights?” he grumbled, not wanting to wreck Baby on some goddamned pothole he didn’t see. Eventually asphalt gave way to gravel to dirt. He just about had a nightmare over the sheer cleaning he’d have to do of the Impala after all this was done.

When he finally saw the silo, he cut the engine and coasted a few more feet. He didn’t want to risk the vampire knowing he was there. As it was, he was sincerely and truly hoping Y/N was still alive. She was tough, she had fire, but the vampire had paranormal strength.

God, he’d love to ask her out after this. Given his luck though, she’d probably ask him to go the hell away and never bother her again.

He crept up to the silo, machete in hand, his gun in the back of his jeans. As he got closer, he started to hear voices, screaming. One of them was definitely feminine, afraid, in pain. Y/N. His heartbeat picked up as he hurried, heedless of any noise he was making.

A faint mist clung to the ground, swirling around the boots of the lone, young hunter. His knuckles were white, his breathing measured but tense, as he entered the silo. It was so dark, the moonlight barely illuminating the intricate interior.

Across from him, the vampire emerged from the shadows, its pale skin gleaming in the moonlight. Blood-red eyes pierce through the gloom, and a cruel smile spreads across its face.

“You came all this way, just to die?” the vampire hissed, its voice a low, mocking growl.

“One of us is dyin’ tonight,” Dean replied, tightening his grip on the machete. “And it ain’t me."

The vampire darted forward, a blur of movement too fast for the human eye. The young man anticipated the attack, swinging the machete in a wide arc. The blade whistled through the air, narrowly missing the vampire’s neck as it twisted to the side with inhuman grace.

“You’ll need to be faster than that,” the vampire taunted, its voice now behind him.

Dean spun, slashing upward. The machete grazed the vampire’s arm, drawing a thin line of dark blood. The creature snarled, its fangs glinting like daggers.

The vampire lunged, its fingers aimed for Dean’s throat. He ducked just in time, rolling to the side.

“You're surprisingly quick,” the vampire admitted, circling its prey. “But you’re tiring. I can hear your heartbeat slowing. Smell the sweat of your fear.”

Dean didn’t reply, his chest heaving as he strategized. He knew he had only one chance—one clean strike.

The vampire leaped again, this time coming from above. Dean raised the machete, catching the monster mid-jump. The blade bit deep into its side, sending it crashing to the ground with an unearthly scream.

But it’s not enough.

The vampire rose, the wound knitting itself together before Dean’s eyes. It smirked. “That all you got?”

Desperation fueled Dean’s next move. He feinted left, then swung hard to the right, aiming for the neck. The vampire, too confident, didn’t anticipate the feint. The machete connected with sickening force, burying itself deep in the creature’s throat.

For a moment, silence reigns. The vampire stumbled, its hands clawing at the blade embedded in its neck. Dark blood poured from the wound.

Dean didn’t hesitate. With a roar, he yanked the machete free and swung again, severing the vampire’s head in a single, brutal stroke.

The headless body collapsed, twitching once before going still. The head rolled to a stop, its crimson eyes staring lifelessly at the ceiling.

Dean wiped the sweat and blood from his face, looking down at the vampire’s remains. “Told you,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.

The fight was over, but the scars—both physical and mental—were just beginning to form.

He had no time to worry about that. He dropped the machete, ignoring it for now, and went in search of Y/N.

Dean found Y/N, freed her from the bindings. He also found the bodies of the missing people. He called 9-1-1 and reported the discovery before disappearing. He hated doing that to Y/N, but she needed the ambulance, the police, more than she needed him.

It would be hours later that he returned to her studio apartment. Her door was restored; good. He wouldn’t have to beat the landlord again, or try to do it himself. He saw her light on, so he knew she was home. Even so… he hesitated.

“Come on, man,” he whispered to himself. He knocked on her door and waited.

The outside light flickered on and he called up his best smile, unaware that it looked nervous and sickly more than confident. After a moment, Y/N cracked opened the door and peeked through the slit. “Dean…?”

“Hey. Uh. How’re you doing? Oh God,” he added in a whisper under his breath. He felt so fucking stupid. He saw her smile and he relaxed marginally. “Sorry for leavin’ you like that, but I had to. There’d be too many questions and—”

“Dean, shut up and come on in,” she said, stepping aside and opening the door. He hesitated, then stepped inside, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m glad you came back. I… wanted to thank you.”

“Uh, thank me? For what?”

She wrinkled her brow at him. “For saving my life,” she said, as though it should be obvious.

“I didn’t… but you got…” Great. Just great. His charm died with the vampire.

But she was smiling. “Thanks. I… really. Thank you.” Her smile fell, and out of the damned blue, she slapped him.

Dean’s head rocked to the side and he very nearly spun around. He caught himself, wiggled his jaw with his hand and stared at her. “What the hell?!”

“That was for abandoning me!” Then she grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled him into a searingly hot kiss. Dean’s brain froze. Just… froze. His libido popped out of the box and wondered if it was finally going to be freed. Then she let him go, breathing a bit heavily. “And that was for saving me.”

“Um…” Come on brain. Come on. Work! “You’re… welcome.”

She smiled, a bit shy, a bit amused at his reaction. “You can go now, Dean.”

“Yeah. Sure….” Damn. College girls can kiss!

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28

(If you do not want to be tagged for this Supernatural fic, please let me know and I'll remove you in future postings! If you want to be added, please let me know and I will!)

Edited: Fixed some paragraphs I accidentally copy-pasted twice from my Word doc!

[deerbeatrice]

Afraid -

⚠️ black brothers again. angst. abuse. ⚠️

Sirius had a small fear. Well actually, he had lots of fears over time. When he was 7 he was afraid of spiders. They had way too many legs and his nanny had told him about this huge spider that might have killed a girl at school. He kept this fear for a year until Regulus found one under the sink and begged Sirius to just take it outside. When he was 10 his mother and father sat down and repeated every page of the fantastic beasts over and over. At 10 years old Sirius was afraid of werewolves, unicorns, centaurs, even pixies. When Remus Lupin cried in Sirius' arms about being a monster, Sirius decided werewolves weren't that scary.

"Pads?" Remus was looking at Sirius with a small smile. Sirius looked away from the bookshelf he was building to see Remus crouch down with a cup of hot cocoa. "There's this girl at the high school. Her name is Nymphadora and she's got herself into some trouble that I think we can help."

Sirius chuckled, "What sort of name is Nymphadora?"

"The same sort as Sirius Lupin?"

"Ouch point taken." Sirius pointed towards a screw driver sitting by Remus's foot. "So this girl?"

"She's pregnant." Remus paused looking towards Sirius. "She doesn't want the boy to end up in foster care, but she's too young to take care of him."

"That's awful, her parents won't help her?"

"She doesn't have any Padfoot. They were murdered when she was a kid." Remus inhaled and bit the inside of his cheek. "How do you feel about being a dad?" He breathed out.

Sirius dropped the screwdriver, the screw still sticking out of the wood of the shelf. "What?"

"We could.... adopt the boy? Dora can come round see her kiddo, he'd be loved Pads."

"I just- I don't think- I can't Moony. I can't. I can't. I can't. I have to- I'll be back." Sirius was trying to catch his breath, to explain to Remus that he wasn't leaving for good.

"Sirius? Love, are you okay. It's okay we can wait. We can talk it out?" Remus reached towards Sirius who was standing up and heading towards the door.

"Yes- Talk. Just not now. I'll be back-I'll be back. " Sirius ran out the door leaving Remus sat near an unfinished bookshelf tugging at his curls.

++++++++

Sirius was still afraid of many things. He was afraid of cows, afraid of tight closed spaces, afraid of dragonflies. Fears come and go for Sirius all the time but being a father? Sirius has done that before. His kid ended up hating him, fell in line into a cult despite his many attempts to stop and was now missing.

Sirius approached a small brass cross. It was embellished with snakes and planted into the tree him and Regulus used to hide at.

"Hello Reg. I know i've not been here, well neither are you." Sirius laughed to himself. "Remus he asked me a question today. Asked if I wanted to be a dad. I ran. It's what I'm good at, you'd tell me that." Sirius wiped a tear from his cheek.

"Being a dad though? Not so good at that. I know logically that i was a kid too but i couldn't protect you, how am i supposed to protect him?" Sirius continued to chat to Regulus through all his fears. It had begun to get dark and Sirius had fallen asleep against the trunk of the tree.

+++++++

"Sirius?" Remus had shaken Sirius and he had begun to blink awake. Remus spent 3 hours trying to figure out where Sirius could have gone; he checked the park Padfoot liked to run in, the coffee shop Sirius ran too after he ran away and lastly, the small grave Sirius had planted for his little brother.

"Moony?" Remus sat down next to Sirius and leaned into his side.

"Good morning Pads. I think it's time we had that talk huh?"

"I'm sorry for running Remus." Sirius tilted his head on top of Remus'. "Having a kid outside of Reggie. I mean I know he's not my kid-"

"Sirius listen to me. Regulus will always be your kid. You raised him, you gave him food, you showed him laughter. You protected him from really evil people. This- His death? It isn't on you. You tried Sirius, you went back 3 times. Walburga cursed you every single time." Sirius shook his head.

"We haven't even found him! He's missing and he's dead. I can't do that to another kid." Sirius cried into Remus. "I'm scared I will miss that boy up too."

"You didn't mess up Regulus. Did you hit him?" Sirius shook his head. "Did you tell him you would only love him if he joined the Death Eaters?"

"I would never."

"Did you starve him when he cried?" Sirius shook his head again. "Okay good, so what did you do to him exactly Sirius?"

"I left him there. I knew what they would do."

"What would they have done if you stayed?" Remus let the answer wash over him. The potential death of Sirius Black sitting in the area around them.

"Can we name him?" Sirius asks eventually. "Regulus liked the name Edward, he always named the teddy bears I got him Edward." Remus laughed dipping his head down.

"He names his teddys... Teddy?"

"No Edward I just said!"

"Pads love, Edward is the long form of Teddy."

"Godric, Regulus was 70 years old?!" Sirius joined Remus in his laughter. For the first time since Regulus went missing, Sirius laughed in his memory.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 25. Give Them Hell

Summary: Squad Battles are here, and its a tight battle for first. With the final challenge laid out for them, who will come out on top?

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

Today had been an intense day, all of us pushed to the limit. But for our squad it had been worth it. Today Squad Battle’s had started, something we had all been looking forward to for weeks now. And honestly we’d been killing it today. We’d come second overall for the Gauntlet Sky Race, and so far we were on track to win the Sparring Challenges. The only match standing in our way was Garrick and Xaden. Xaden and Garrick who were both very shirtless as they circled each other on the mat.

It had been a few weeks since my interaction with Garrick in the gym after my challenge against Dain. We’d interacted here and there, but I was yet to be alone with him after the interaction. Though I’d caught him starting at me multiple times since then. And I couldn’t deny I’d been caught out by him when I’d found my eyes wandering to him.

I’d replayed that night in my head multiple times, mainly when he’d asked me what would happen if there was no one else in his stable. I was yet to see Garrick actually commit to it. Though it wasn’t like I was sitting outside his room or following him around to see if he was still sleeping around. I was in this strange tug of war with him. Part of me wanting to see if he would and if he had, the other part of me not wanting to care. I shouldn’t care. Maybe the part of my mind that knew my father and brother would lose their shit over it is what had caught my interest. Though I’d already toed that line before with one of the infantry cadets I’d had a short thing with prior to coming here. It honestly wasn’t as satisfying as I thought it would have been. But with the mark that extends up to his shoulder, I know I’d get a far worse reaction from them.

As if sensing my eyes, Garrick turns his head as he circles Xaden, wiping blood from his nose as his eyes lock with mine, his signature smirk gracing his lips for a few moments before focusing back on the fight.

"Did he just smirk at you?” Austin asks from next to me. She was as observant as me sometimes.

”Who?” I ask, pretending I hadn’t noticed Garrick’s smirk. She rolls her eyes at me.

“You damn well know who I’m talking about.”

”There’s plenty of girls in this room he could have been smirking at. I doubt it was me.” I reply, trying to sound indifferent as Bodhi tries to hide his laughter from next to me.

I elbow him in the side to shut him up, sending him into a coughing fit as he clutches his side. He’d been the bane of my existence since Garrick and I had started to get along to some extent. He was always the first to jump on any change in our interaction, trying to turn it into something it wasn’t.

”From what I hear he hasn’t been with another girl in a number of weeks. Not since you two started actually getting along and not yelling at each other.” She says as she elbows me lightly, catching my attention as I turn to look at her. “I hear a lot of girls aren’t happy with the new found friendship with you.”

”Add them to the list of people who already hate me.” I reply with a shrug, turning my attention to the mat just as Xaden pins Garrick to the mat, wrapping his arms around his neck as Garrick flails beneath him in an effort to get out.

For a while he resists, but after a few more moments he reaches out and taps the mat three times, the crowd roaring and cheering as Xaden wins. Bodhi whistles and cheers the loudest at his cousins win, pumping his fists into the air before draping an arm across my shoulders in a half hug. I shove him off me, pretending to be angry, but as usual he sees right through it and ruffles my hair before turning and celebrating with some of the others from our squad.

Xaden walks over and the boys jump on him immediately, clapping him on the back and congratulating him. The smile on his face seems so genuine and also out of place. I’ve seen him smirk and smile here and there over the last few months, but this one seems completely genuine. A warmth behind it I’ve never seen before. Like he’s completely happy and giving into the emotion, especially as Bodhi pulls him into a hug.

”Everyone quiet down!” Commandant Panchek calls out as he steps on to the mats, the room falling silent as we all turn to face him. “Quite an interesting out come, two squads going into the last round head to head.”

I look over to Garrick and his squad, who we are now tied with. They’d just clutched first ahead of us in the flying portion, while we had clutched the win from them in sparring. Garrick looks over as if sensing my gaze, smirking as he catches my eye.

”Your final challenge will start tomorrow, but you will plan and travel tonight to the location.” Panchek continues as we all fall silent.

I’d never seen the Squad Battles be carried out, but I knew they were mostly held on sight. But this year it seemed we were going off site, and a hum of excitement fills the room at his words.

”Half of the squads will defend a makeshift out post, while the other half will attack. Those defending will leave in two hours time to prepare their outpost and get a lay of the land. The attacking squads will remain here and travel to their starting points in the morning.” I can’t help but also join in on the excitement of the Quadrant. It’s clear they’ve never done something like this before, and everyone is keen to prove they’re the better squad.

A scribe steps forward, unravelling a scroll which most likely has the list of what squads will be paired up for this battle. Those defending will have an advantage. We will have all afternoon and evening to get a feel for our outpost and the land surrounding. Part of me hopes we’re defending, but I can’t deny there would be some satisfaction in attacking and being successful.

”And lastly, Third and Second Squad from Tail Section in Fourth Wing. Third squad will defend, Second Squad will attack.” The scribe calls out, another Scribe I hadn’t noticed rushing out to hand Xaden a scroll.

Now this would be interesting. Both squads tying for first and well ahead of the others going head to head. Essentially whoever won would be victorious. And seeing as Garrick and Xaden were best friends, they were both going to be highly competitive.

”You have your assignments. Defending squads, you will leave within the next two hours. Attacking squads, you will remain here till then.” Panchek announces before turning and walking from the room, the Scribes rushing behind him.

Xaden turns to us a sinister smirk on his face as he clutches the scroll. “Flight field in one hour. Lets give them hell.”

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal @stupid-and-contagious01

[triptychcryptid]

Okay, I have a very weird/dumb idea for that AU where the Grunks end up in the 60's. XD First off, Stan would have inherited an ability from his mother. He'd be an Empath, which means he can feel what others feel. Thanks to @localcanadiancreature62 for pointing out that the ability could explain why he's so charismatic, charming, and so good at manipulating. XD

Caryn would be the only person who knew, and she'd help him learn how to control it and block it out when he needs to, then eventually it just became a part of him, like breathing. Something he doesn't think about. He wouldn't tell Ford or Sherman because he didn't want their Dad to find out.

Anyway, Sherman ends up back in the 60's as well somehow and his reaction to walking into the pawn shop and seeing his brothers is "...What are YOU guys doing in the past?" And they're like "... US?! WHAT ABOUT YOU!?" And he legit has no idea. XD As far as he can tell, he was at work (NASA) there was a blue light, and he was here. Ford thinks whatever happened with his portal may have fucked with the instrument Sherman was working on somehow and pulled him in with them.

So they get talking to their Mom who had started thinking of leaving Filbrick anyway because of the way he treats her and the kids, but it's the 1960's. It's very hard to leave your husband. You can't get your own credit card, it's very hard to get a car or house on your own, or keep your money separate. Now that she's seen what happened to her boys because of him (Sherman leaves on his own at 17 because now he and Caryn are the sole recipients of Filbrick's abuse. He gets himself help and becomes a much better person. He takes care of himself physically, runs marathons and is incredibly intelligent as well. He becoms the father/grandfather he wanted growing up and is very close with his kids and grandkids.He cuts ties with his father, and unfortunately Caryn later on when she can't except his help and won't leave Filbrick out of fear) she's more determined to leave.

The boys all separately decide it's time to get rid of Filbrick. Without saying a word to each other about their plans or anything, one goes out and cuts the breakline on Filbrick's car, knowing he's going on a three day trip with his friends the next day. One puts water and sugar in the gas tank. One puts in too much oil.

Anyway, Filbrick dies, but figures out it's the boys that killed him, so he decides to haunt them. He runs into Bill in ...I guess purgatory? Who decides to use him as a pawn to get the twins. Filbrick's not stupid or easily taken in, but he IS consumed with rage. Bill teaches him how to possess people.

He makes the mistake of posessing Caryn at one point and grabs Stan to punch him, but her Psychometry kicks in and he sees everything he did, and everything that Stan went through because of him. He has no idea what that was, and Ford grabs Stan, pushes him behind him and gets ready to square off with Filbrick. Filbrick grabs Ford's lapels and gets hit with Ford's entire life. And what Bill did to him. And Stanley. While he's distracted, Sherman quickly writes a symbol on Caryn's forehead that's meant to repel demons, but not before grabbing Caryn/Filbrick's hand so he can get an extra helping of "LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO ME, ASSHOLE"

Filbrick gets kicked out of Caryn and can no longer possess people. He can only speak through electronic devices or possess smallish animals. So after some failed attempts (because no one wants to listen to him) of talking to his sons through the radio, he possess an Italian Greyhound and talks to them through it. The boys (old AND young) all laugh their assess off at this for the first few days. Like he can't do ANYTHING without setting them off.

[dirtytransmasc]

hey there, cool blog <3 I love reading your takes on things

so I wanted to ask your take on larycent and what you think we’ll see in season 2

(wrote this whole thing out and then my computer died before I could post it. my first attempt at this was much better. this is cruel and unusual punishment, this whole thing is now infused with anger. not towards you, just in general.)

I should first start off by saying, thank you, I'm so happy you like reading my stuff, second off, I'll say I may be one of the worst people to ask, cause Larys is one of those characters I hate so much, plot be damned, he could choke on one of his stupid flowers within the first 5 minutes of season 2 and I couldn't give less of a shit. I'm not typically like that with characters, I tend to try and give a character enough grace to care about their place in plot, but Larys just makes me that angry. despite this, I will try to be appropriately opinionated and give you a proper answer lol.

from a story point of view their dynamic is fascinating. here's this guy with such little standing (compared to her as queen) who wields so much power against her. it starts out when she is young and alone, he spots this weakness and befriends her, giving her information, gives her company she so longs for, slowly spinning this web around her. then as she gets older, he becomes a sort of confidant, biding his time, until he finds the right moment to strike. he bends her words, given in great trust and secrecy, most likely not the first dangerous secret they've shared, and uses it to 'justify' (he didn't need her command to do it, he just waited to do it in a way that he could hold her accountable for it) killing his father and brother. this gives him power, he can use this against her, to keep her close. he's piled up blackmail at this point, he's got her bound in his web of secrets, she can't leave.

she knows he's dangerous now, she has to keep him close, or he could hurt her, her kids, her image, the people around her.

the other thing is, he gets off on it all. he gets off on bringing her to his level, by stripping her of her agency as queen so that way they are equals.

then by some means, he gets her to give herself up in a sexual manner. he had already been doing this, in a way; I vaguely remember some sort of statement or interview from Matthew Needham about how Larys gets off on bringing her down, on filling her with shame and guilt, on making her feel dirty. so getting her to truthfully give herself up to him for whether it be to keep him satisfied (I'll come back to this point in a second) or for information, gives him the ultimate gratification.

he was like a parasite, taking and taking and taking from her until he was satisfied. she couldn't get rid of him, as he posed a threat to her and others, she couldn't ignore him because then he would act out and be a threat. he had to be kept satisfied. she had to give him a purpose, a use, an outlet to feel like he had power. like a dog, if he was left to himself, he would grow bored and unruly, she had to offer herself to keep him entertained.

both Olivia and Matthew played this dynamic out so well. Matthew played Larys so slimey and gross and just irksome, I was uncomfortable whenever he was on screen. Olivia played Alicent's discomfort and forced compliance so well, I just felt insanely bad the whole time.

it really built Larys up as this thinly veiled evil, he could be... well behaved and friendly, he could be useful, he could be an ally of sorts, all for a price, and if that price went unpaid or he felt undervalued, he could quickly become something so downright awful. he could be something downright evil if he wanted to really, that he was willing to bend words and step on toes (ironically) to get what he wanted and show off his power.

it also built up Alicent, adding onto her list of horrors in life, and putting her in this power limbo. she was queen, yet she was felled by this nobleman, brought down to his level if not lower. while some (*ahem* team black stans *cough cough*) saught to demonize her for her suffering, it really led me to sympathize with her more than before. she had suffered this mans sick and twisted game since she was a child, and he shows no signs of stopping. she's always stepping around fear, knowing the monster she let into her chambers, unable to get him out.

so, outside of the fact that I hate to see my girl suffering so horrible, I can't say I love their dynamic, but I don't hate it... its like, so horrible but so interesting, and I hate it not because it's poorly done or unnecessary, it just makes me feel gross and horrible. 10/10 characterization, 10/10 portrayal, 10/10 plot building -100/10 making me feel nice lmao.

onto predictions: I think she's going to attempt to stand up to him and fail. at the end of season 1 we see her lose Viserys (abuser number 1) and stand up to Otto (abuser number 2) finally putting him in his place after years of biting her tongue to him, acting against him (ordering Aegon be brought to her, that the crowning of aegon/treatment of Rhaenyra be under her command, etc,). I think she'll attempt to continue this pattern and stand up to Larys, who has been nothing but an aching wound in her side.

its only then that he will truly show how evil he can be. he will show his anger, his wrath, the power he holds over her head. he has years of blackmail against her, he will make this evident. it wouldn't surprise me if we get a scene paralleling Daemon and Rhaenyra and the choking scene, if even if only slightly. he will do something to make her keep him at her side. I think he will be the first to bring true horror to our girl. we have seen fear, strife, anxiety, worry, and disbelief, but we have not seen horror. truthfully, I think he's the only one I believe capable of doing that to her.

he is happy to remain sat loyally at her feet (again, the irony) so long as she respects him and lets him use her to get off when he pleases, so after his little show of power, when he instills fear into her once more, he will lie back down like a good little parasitic inside man, while she waits in fear, forever caught in his web. it brings this new air of sick and twisted to it all; his true self has been revealed, he can no longer be looked at with any level of incapacity or harmlessness (not that he really could before, but I don't really know how to describe what I'm thinking of in any other way), yet he reverts back to his normal self. he may be more assertive of his power over her, his word may have a sharper edge to them, but he will still play his role as her obedient servant, while she suffers the stresses of it all.

its this forced 'trust' Alicent is forced to reenter that will keep him at her side up until the end of it (I believe they separate when he is to smuggle Maelor out of the city, but I'm not sure if/when Maelor will be brought into the city, so we'll see how that goes) and I think that dynamic will be equally awful as it is interesting to watch play out.

[demaparbat-hp]

In your Spitfire AU, since Zuko is looking after Lu Ten II, what happened to Ursa?

Zuko is slightly older in the Spitfire AU. He was banished at fifteen, his head a little clearer and denial a little weaker than in canon. After his first look through the Air Temples, Zuko decides that if he can't find a myth, he might as well search for the next best thing.

Finding Ursa isn't easy, but in time he makes it to a secluded house in a near-forgotten part of the world. His mom is there, older and stronger and alive.

But she isn't alone.

And Zuko, as it turns out, didn't keep the best company during his search.

When Ursa is discovered and her secrets are laid bare for assassins (for Ozai) to find, she begs Zuko to take his little brother and run. She'll do anything it takes to protect her children, even if that means leaving them behind to keep a target off their back. Ursa diverts attention from them and allows Lu Ten's ancestry to be kept a secret. She orders Zuko not to follow her again, and disappears.

Zuko is left with a little three-year-old brother to raise and a mother he cannot hold onto.

[ganondoodle]

so with echoes of wisdom .. i havent watched any of the trailers beyond the very first one and the thumbnails/screenshots and what others have said about it-

but with the world inside the rift being called "Welt des Nichts" aka "world of nothing/void" in german ('still' in english, for some reason) and demises title in french being "avatar of nothing" ... yeah my anxiety is shooting through the roof again

(hopefully you can be a little more forgiving for me being anxious/weird about it bc demise is my blorbo)

i had similar worries with totk, that werent proven true thankfully, but the darn book is making it all worse again with all those weird lore things the game doesnt even so much as hint at AND potential retcons- im in for a really rough time huh, not just stress in real life (more in tags.. its alot) but now about my specific hyperfixation from two things even (AND artblock still..)

weird as it may sound, i dont want demise to get more lore, partly bc i dont believe theyd do anything with him that i would like (given their track record) but much more importantly- the fact that he has this little lore about him is precisely one of the reasons why i fell in love with him, i tend to like characters that are neglected by the narrative, and his story being both so flat and already done meant i can be very creative with what i come up with for him without necessarily contradicting anything in canon (which is ... or was a big point of how i wrote destiny's story and lore, working with canon in a way that reframes it all without straight up ignoring it ... but i suppose i urgently need to let go of that and accept i spend alot of time working things that will go to waste :( ) AND not having to worry that there will be more stuff with him that would massively change not only what im writing but also potentially how i feel about him since the game he was briefly in was the oldest chronologically and ended with his death- i didnt expect them to mess with anything that far back and thought theyd just go forward and leave the timeline behind and wouldnt mess with it again, given how botw seemed to be a sort of 'fresh start' that seemingly regarded the past as the past that needs to rest and that the timeline was finally no longer a discussion if everythings unified through botw and one thing going forward

but i suppose i was very wrong with that .__.

right now the only thing that motivates me still is the left over determination and spite to work on my zelda comic, since i have never gotten this far and really want to get something done for once, but i cant lie that im feeling like i should pause all work on it too to wait and see waht the book and the new game will do .. either to determine if i still have the will to keep working on it after those things are out (my love for tloz has been taking alot of hits lately ..) or if i have to change stuff (mostly bc of my lore problem trying to not ignore it ..)

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[hauntingblue]

ENIES LOBBY TIME!!!

Sanji's face here.... he Knows he is going to fuck him up

THAT IS SANJI??? 😨

Holding them in my hands again....

Sanji struck a nerve there akdjaoajkq

Increible trio btw.... look at the evidence

............ me next please 🙏🏻

That is love right there I can see it

What if we all killed ourselves (except usopp is telling her the opposite ajahkdhsakjd)

I need sanji to go insane like this more often.... after the timeskip it doesn't happen as much and I love to see him suffering

This is so funny.... there is no denying to her face card

"It's not like she actually wants to die" well yes she does, but no because you know she doesn't really. It is in a quantum state right now

Luffy is such a menace akdhaksjkaak

TELL EM!!!! THAT'S MY GIRL!!!!

Look at franky worrying about robin.... do not fret luffy is coming and he will NOT lose!!!!!

This is zoro remarking how usopps fear of being left behind makes no sense.... this is so good.....

This is so endearing but it also breaks my heart....

Who is that sultry binch... (I don't recall this attack AT ALL and i'm sure we never see it again)

They botched his bbl.... 😔😔😔

Luffy's face here... he was convinced she wanted to go with them but was compelled to do otherwise but no.... he thought wrong and he can't fight to her.... I've just been staring at this page for minutes like damn.

Nevermind.... this is something your mother would say "you want to die??? Just wash the dishes and you can do whatever you want later"

"If you wanna die, or whatever...." this is so good like he knows what he is doing.... he Knows.... look at her face. After knowing how luffy and ace were as kids this just makes more sense (oda didn't think about this i'm sure but damn does it fit) also the slight manipulation.... look at all of us we're already here and look how we all miss you already... you know that post about luffy being selfish but his selfishness is jusg kindness to others... yesh

Thinking about robin's cinderella lifestyle.... why did her mother leave her with that aunt and why didn't some archeologist take her in?? Because she doesn't complain about anything just like she doesn't respond when that mother accused her of hitting her child without reason... that's so fucked

Alright this is funny (and also true)... I'm sorry fellow women....

*Justin Bieber voice* I like your laugh... dereishi shishishi

SHE'S GONNA ASK HER MOM TO TAKE HER TO THE SEA WITH HER??? LIKE SHE DOES AFTER WITH LUFFY??? MY GOD!!! I just bursted into tears like I got punched in the nose I can't keep going ajdhakajk

I lied i can keep going... but head in my hands over this....

Find out how my emotional stability survives this arc in ennies lobby part 2. coming soon

[shutupdia]

Talked to my sister on the phone for three hours straight and it was probably the most personal we got with each other. Talking about the shit our parents put us through and how they never stopped the cycle of abuse. I was surprised because I told her i was glad our mom was gone and she wasn't mad at me over it which i expected. I also started crying during that conversation lol and we changed topics since i couldn't handle it. But like yeah. I also told her i was gonna try seeing my favorite aunt while in the hospital but i might leave before im able to see her because the only time she can see me is during spring break and i wanted to see her at least once. She was worried about me too. My dad didn't want me to tell anyone i was hospitalized because he doesn't trust anyone. I trust HER though. I love her a lot ever since I was little and looked up to her ever since I was little since I used to hang around her a lot when my great grandma was still alive.

Regardless, i told my sister about her seeing me and even if i can't see her here my sister said whenever shes free she can plan us three to do something together even if my sister doesn't like my favorite aunt. Since my dad only trusts my sister to go out alone.

I never got along with my sister a lot but i think all we needed like was a private conversation without our father knowing because i never get privacy and hes like really suffocating. He got mad and petty because i talked to my sister on the phone for so long and didn't call him for a while so that says enough 😔

[thebleedingeffect]

.

[mymelodyisme]

I’m gonna draw Critter’s brother when I have the chance. I like to think he didn’t actually die and dons a rat mask cause his call sign was Ratón 🐭

[somnoir]

Demon Twins and Death

Inspired by this post by @spiders-in-the-primrose

Damian had spent years loathing Danyal. The weaker, pathetic son. The son who did not have what it took to carry the name Al Ghul. The twin who had died and was swallowed by the Lazarus pits, never to be seen again.

The twin Damian killed.

His brother had welcomed death with tears and sobs. His last words were stained by the blood he choke out, "It had to be you, akhi." He whispered as the blood spilled from his mouth and a sword was pressed further into his stomach.

When he was sent to his father, he remained with his belief in being the better son. That Danyal was not worthy of being the son of the demon and the son of the bat. He could have been one but in the end, only Damian was worthy for both.

And yet as the years passed, Damian grew and changed. And then he finally understood.

In his family of heroes, his family who strived to make the world better—Danyal would have been a better fit. Instead, Damian had been the one to become his father's son with his own twin's blood on his hands. His father must never know.

The idea of Danyal sparks rage, resentment, and utterly self-loathing. His kind and sweet brother who would have been the perfect son for his father. The son who was clearly the better person. Not in skill, power—but morals. Because like their father, Danyal would never kill.

What would have happened if Danyal was here with him? If he were still alive?

Damain can imagine his brother in the colors that Robin wore, another costume, another name. Because Damian will not give up that name after he managed to take it from Drake. But Danyal would have work the colors, would have been bubbly like Grayson. He would have taken care of the children on the streets like Todd. He would have helped their father in cases like Drake.

He would have been the brother they would have wanted.

And Damian tries not to drown in what his brother could have been. He can't help but admire this figment of his imagination. This hero in his kind that wore what could have been Danyal's face. This light within the darkness of Gotham who had a voice identical to Damian's.

And Damian does drown. Because he wants what his brother could have been.

Danyal Al Ghul died by the hands of his brother.

In the back of his mind, he thinks that he just wants his other half back.

Danny Fenton was born as the girl who would be his sister dragged him from a lake and nursed him to health.

The Fentons were strange people with strange ideals. Jack and Maddie were obsessed, they were not suited to care for children as they grabbed their weapons and hunted down any ghost their could find. When they were absent, Danny was left with Jasmine.

The memory of Damian is strong and cruel and it burned itself into his mind. The memory of that katana sinking into his gut, just as blood bubbles up his throat. He remembers an older brother who had to be the one to kill him.

He remembers and then he looks to Jasmine. She is warmth incarnate, with fiery hair and bright eyes that reminded him of stars on painting. His parents lack the warmth he craves but Jazz gives him so much that he can't help but melt everytime he's in her arms.

Neither of them can forget how fearful he was towards her when she first found him. He had only been six years old, feeling the effects of the Lazarus pit on his skin before he was spat out somewhere far, far away. He remembered being in Nanda Parbat then he was spat out somewhere in Illinois.

Jasmine had found him. Jazz had found him.

And Danny has decided long ago that Jazz was much better than Damian.

Even from the distance between them, Danyal continues to fear Damian. The part of him that he wished died when his own twin stabbed him to death continued to live on.

Then he died.

Again.

And he can't help but hope that Danyal is finally dead. That the failure was finally dead. His body only needed two. He only needed Danny and Phantom. Yes... Danyal was dead.

Danny would kill that part of him himself if he could.

He donned the mantle of hero, even when the people called him a menace at times. Danny was finally a hero, he was finally someone who could do good in the world. It was a blessing for him.

In all honesty, being a hero had been fun, even as he suffered. His rogues that fought him felt like friends that he had missed in his life. Parts of him yearned for when Skulker came out for a fight. He laughed whenever Ember moved to blast her music through the town and he was forced to fight her. He was fond of both Kitty and Johnny, even when they fought and caused havoc. Trouble felt like home for once.

The half of him that was dead yearned for a fight, yearned for an obsession. Protection—he was told—was his own obsession.

To protect, to fight, to make sure that whatever fell into his obsession was safe and sound. He thinks of Amity Park—his haunt, his domain—and assumed it was what he wanted to protect. He had fought Pariah Dark, became King through conquest and continued to protect.

But a part of him knew that something was wrong. He knew that it wasn't Amity Park that he would protect at all cost. No.

It was always Jazz. Always his big sister who cradled him, who figured out he was Phantom, who could tell whether he was himself or not. The greatest part of his obsession fell onto the older sibling who loves him unconditionally, always reminding him that there was another half of him in the world that killed him. But Jazz was none of that.

Danny loved his family. He loved Elle who grew to be his little sister. He loved his parents even when they were difficult. He loved his friends—Sam, Tucker, Valerie. He loved them so dearly and yet they could never match up to Jazz.

Danny doesn't know what he'd do without her.

(Lies. He knew what would happen if Jazz was taken from her. He knew what kind of monster he'd become—one that the observants demanded to be killed. He knew damn well that Jazz Fenton was the only thing that kept him human.)

(Dan existed for a reason.)

(Danny would burn the world for his sister.)

(And he'd kill himself for fear of his brother.)

Fate is a cruel mistress that knew what she was doing. Twins were tied by blood, mind, and soul. An invisible thread that made sure they were connected one way or another. He shouldn't be surprised that they were going to be reunited at some point.

Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne meet.

It's been years. They've changed. They've become new people. Damian is Robin, the son of the bat (not heir to the demons head). Danny is Phantom, High King of the Infinite Realms (not the failure devoured by the Lazarus).

But that doesn't stop Danyal Al Ghul from drowning in fear at the mere visage of Damian Al Ghul.

Danny plays as ambassador, not king. He won't risk himself by telling people who he truly is. He can't. No.

When he summoned and claims that he is an ambassador sent as a substitute, the Justice League accepts what they are given and pleaded for aid.

But Robin is there with Batman. Robin and Phantom meet.

Robin sees Danyal and Phantom sees his murderer.

The moment his body was no longer frozen, Damian sucked in a deep breath as he stared at the face of his own beloved twin. His brother that died by his hands and was claimed by the pits. Had the Lazarus turned him into a creature of the realms?

"Danyal..." Robin sounded hopeful, desperate. He reached forward and almost crossed the circle if not for his father and Nightwing pulling him back with confusion and concern. They look towards the Ghostly being with a face that resembled their father and youngest a little too much.

Danny? Had he been human, his heart would have stopped after ricocheting. He stopped breathing, rendering his lungs useless. This was Damian. A hero of his own right even when he was a monster in Danny's eyes.

Danyal Al Ghul feared Damian.

Phantom was a manifestation of something of Danyal's death.

"You mistake me for someone, Heir to the Demon's head." His voice tore through air, distorted by his own will. Danny was king, he had to remind himself that.

"I am a manifestation. I am born from a concept and emotion. You would not have met me." The lies were not lies. Truths bended to his will as he spoke and pressed against the barrier made by the summoning circle. "But you recognize this body that I have taken form in."

"Then your appearance belonged to a living person." Batman growled.

Danny realizes that this was his father. Perhaps Ra's was right at some point—blood calls to blood.

"What have you done to Danyal?! Where is my twin brother, demon!" Robin's words leak venom as he slams a hand against the barrier.

Danyal tremblesPhantom was amused.

"Bats, tell your brat to back off! That's the ghost king's fuckin' ambassador." The Hellblazer hissed, watching as Batman pulled his son away.

But Damian—Robin—stands still.

Phantom grinned, flashing his teeth as he leaned closed to the barrier. Even when his appearance was born of inverted colors with Lazarus eyes rather than the sky, Damian could recognize his twin's face anywhere.

Both of them knew what happened to Danyal. Killed by his own brother.

But only Phantom knew what happened after.

"Oh little bird... I killed him."

Masterpost

[sammydem0n64]

The whole plot of Crumbled! (at least the main plot since several characters aren’t. Involved in that. Funny side plots and characters baby!) is how organized crime affects people, inside of it and out. It’s how members of the mob don’t have anything else they can do in life aside from the life of crime, it’s how the general public are harmed by organized crime even if they aren’t being targeted personally, it’s how being a member of this lifestyle can destroy or build your relationships, it’s how no one is pure evil or pure good, it’s the complexity of people while also being about The Horrors.

No one here faces “traditional consequences” to their actions, aside from a few. Hershey doesn’t go to jail, Donna doesn’t die, etc etc. This is a story that doesn’t need those consequences. From day 1 you know these characters are doing horrible things, and at the same time these characters learn and fully comprehend they’re doing bad things. The most they get as “traditional retribution” is how some of their personal relationships are affected. Aside from that, these fuckers dont NEED what the masses would deem a traditional consequence because the entire fucking plot is them going through the horrors because of their actions! Being in the mafia and seeing and doing horrible things while having to just live with it is a pretty damn good “consequence” to me! Melphis doesn’t need to go to jail because “he needs to suffer the consequences of his actions” when every single damn day he suffers‼️

Even if Cheon’s family isn’t destroyed, even if the Oreona family doesn’t ostracize it’s members that are criminals, even if the extremes aren’t reached in these “consequences” there’s still a damn effect!!! But at the end of the day like I said these guys suffer the consequences of their actions constantly so they don’t need jail time or death or anything like that oh my god. And if you think that’s wrong and makes me romanticize, endorse or fucking glorify the mafia because Melphis doesn’t get locked up and only two members of the Oreo Gang die in the end then OHHHHHH GROW UP‼️ GROW UP‼️‼️

[nullen-void]

For a long time I wondered if the final TF2 comic would ever come out. For a longer time I wondered if I wanted it to. They built it up so much, hyped the Administrator's big plan so high, and then waited so long, could they possibly ever meet expectations?

I don't know if what they did was what they originally planned, or if there even was a plan, but I think they knocked it out of the park. It feels... right.

And it cemented the Administrator as one of the most terrifying villains in history. But before I discuss that, SPOILERS:

It was all pointless. None of it ever mattered.

The Gravel Wars, the fighting, the Australium, the deaths, the Classic Mercs, none of it mattered at all. Because Helen or whatever her name is just an addict getting her fix.

She kept a man alive for near enough two hundred years, trapped in the moment just before death by a thousand diseases, because she dedicated her life so thoroughly to ending him that when he finally croaked, she had nothing left. So she brought him back to suffer more. And then extended her OWN life so she could keep making him suffer.

And she doesn't even remember why. She was a child when Zepheniah Mann killed her parents, and she's something like a hundred and seventy years old now. It's been three normal lifetimes since then, and she's forgotten. But she never forgot the hate.

She sabotaged two infant's futures by raising them to be bafoons just to hurt their father. She orchestrated a forever war to spite a single man. She was prepared to keep this going until the heat death of the universe.

Do you know what would have happened if Pauling had lost her nerve and admitted they found a new stash of magic metal? With all three Mann brothers dead, she probably would have gone after Olivia. The last Mann standing, and a girl who at the time was only seven and had barely any connection to the Mann legacy at all, and probably didn't know her grandfather's name! And Helen would have gone after her and ruined her life just to make Zepheniah watch as yet another generation of Mann was ruined.

What a pointless, misspent life. What a waste of time. What an ending.

It makes what comes next all the greater. Scout and Soldier are dads with happy children, Spy still can't admit their relation but gets to be part of his grandkids' lives and he and Jeremy trust each other enough that Scout doesn't blink when he takes his mask off. Team Fortress is happy. They moved on. Found new lives.

Helen couldn't. She had all the time in the world and then some, and she just couldn't move on.

What a waste.