#kill within his own house. especially if they had seen the whole - 'you were always just an outsider' too...

[datastate]

oh, also. still exhausted, but i’ll try to comb through my small issues w kai’s ministory real quick:

- i feel as if sei’s existence wasn’t implied at all in the main yttd game, and i do wish there had been some hint that rio was indeed based upon a real person rather than an experiment in his own right born from [sentiment for kai, which was the only basis we were previously given]. however, that said, i do not necessarily have issue with sei’s existence - although i wish it ended differently.

- speaking of, the trial of the assassins from each house kill one another to find the one who would endure the most is interesting, sure, and resembles the hades incident well... but i do wonder why they’d bother with wasting all of that training. for once, i agree with gashu - ‘the more talented assets you have, the better’ ... it could become a problem were they to rebel, but. i’m sure they have other powerful people of their own who helped with overtaking ‘the underworld’ and thus, if issues did arise (despite being raised solely in the organization), then they would rely on these older assassins to remain loyal enough to snip out the ones who attempt to rebel.

- if not assassins, then still people who were skilled in weaponry and providing it to asunaro agents who did require it (ie. gashu, eventually)... they would have the ability to step up as they once did for those who disobeyed the hades incident - except for gokujo.

- what were the ten years of training afterward meant to be...? after endurance, whoever won was then sent to satisfy assassination orders, but with kai failing to do so... surely they had to replace him? or ‘retrain’ him? before he could meet the leader of asunaro, he would have to prove that he was indeed able to kill someone else on their behalf without faltering - as that would be fatal if the leader ever did come to harm...

- did kai ever meet the leader at all ? no, really, i’m truly caught on this point because it seem as if he hasn’t (under the assumption meister / mr. chidouin are one in the same and the orchestrator of the death game), but if they still require a ‘first-class assassin’ then how did they proceed from there...?! were there future trials with those raised in asunaro?

- with that in mind, what even initiated this group of kids to be part of the trial in the first place? were they beginning to test out obstructors during training? what qualifies these ones as candidates for determining who was going to be raised to defend the leader? what did that entail?

- in general, i’m just. very concerned for the reasoning behind why they needed something like this so early on and not after they’ve already achieved proof of their kills/etc. and had to duke it out with what skills they’ve learned while on the field. i genuinely can’t see kai as any older than kanna’s age, though i do favor the idea he’s around 8-10 at this point. they would’ve been indoctrinated into asunaro anyhow - why choose just one...?

please don’t misunderstand! i did enjoy it overall, but i do think there is a lot more regarding asunaro training that we just did not truly get to see/understand as much as i personally would’ve liked to, enough to justify what the ‘trial’ meant :’]

[theladyofbloodshed]

A Court of Tangled Flames - Chapter 29 (It's Prison time)

The Prison seemed to swallow them whole. The heavy, bone gates closed behind them, sealing them in with a clang. It knew they were there, treading down the ancient pathways. Eris kept a hand resting on his belt in easy reach of the sword. He kept another arm around Nesta to ensure she stayed close. Although his wife had increased her training with him, and physical training with Niamh, in recent days, he was never one to be complacent with her wellbeing. Especially not in this festering pit.  

‘If it’s here, it will be warded,’ warned Cassian. His eyes flicked to them, landing on the way Nesta leaned into Eris’ body. He turned away. ‘We’ll just talk a wander, see if anything calls to you. In and out.’

In a low voice, he added, ‘Guard your words. The inmates will trade scraps of information for anything.’

Nesta said nothing, only gave a tight nod to signal that the words had even registered with her.

The sconces came to life as they walked. It cast flickering yellow light onto the path. The fire called to Eris, recognising him as one who wielded flame. Perhaps an ancestor had been tasked with creating light in this abomination. Eris had his theories about the place. He’d been enthralled with it since he was a boy when Maceo had told his class of dutiful, young students that such a place existed. They had all been entranced by the magic of the place – an ancient Prison that had seemingly always existed. New cells appeared by themselves, it was said. The Prison had ears and eyes and could whisper into the void. The sentries were nothing more than shadows that took refuge within the walls, yet they held every inmate in place through some unknown power. If Eris wasn’t so worried for Nesta, he’d have been giddy with excitement – and already could not wait to tell Maceo what he had seen.

‘This is Blue Annis. She was a terror to behold. She had cobalt skin and iron claws that shredded through my chest. Would have killed me if Azriel hadn’t intervened.’

Shame, Eris wanted to say. By an intervention of the Mother, he managed to hold his tongue.

Nesta gave nothing, no concern or surprise, just kept shuffling along with her brows pressing together. Faintly, Eris could make out soft noises whispering through the rock. He could have sworn nails scraped against the door. He spared a glance to the Illyrian that had imprisoned the creature; even his face had paled as he guided them on with a sweep of his hand.  

They came across another cell with foreign markings above the sealed door. The air here was warm and dry with a faint scent of salt.

‘The seven-headed Lubia,’ announced Cassian. ‘She surfaced from caves of the deep ocean to prey on girls. She’d drag them into the water to drown them. Lubia ate them quicker than Blue Annis at least.’

They passed another which Cassian said belonged to Bara Iaga, another monster that enjoyed seducing males then unhinging her jaw to devour them whole. Eris had been about to tell him to stop trying to scare Nesta when she spoke of her own accord.

‘Is everything in here a female?’ Her lip curled with disdain.  

‘Not everything.’

She raised her brows. ‘And which cell did you think of putting me in when I squandered your high lord’s money?’

Eris tightened his hold on Nesta to guide her a couple of paces away from Cassian. The tunnel wasn’t wide enough to allow for much distance between the three of them, not when Cassian was the size of a mountain and the talons of his wings scraped against the dark stone. There had been a worry in the back of Eris’ mind that the lure of the bond might spark desire between the two of them. What Eris hadn’t anticipated was that when Nesta was in Cassian’s proximity, she might want to rip his throat out like the creatures he had imprisoned here.

‘We would never put you here.’

‘Oh, no. Just lock me in a house instead.’

‘It was for-’

‘No. Not for my own good. Don’t you dare tell me it was for my own good. I knew what was for my own good. I knew the things I did were not good for me. I’m not a fucking idiot, Cassian. I knew I was hurting myself, but I hated myself so much that I did not care – and what I needed was somebody to be patient with me. I needed somebody to hold my hand through the storm. Not somebody who made me hate myself more.’

‘Nesta,’ Eris warned, cutting in before either of them could say anything else.

He placed his hands on her trembling shoulders, turning her away from Cassian to face him. Wrath swirled in her eyes like a tempest that Cassian wouldn’t be able to outrun. Eris cupped her face, holding her still, even if she appeared as if she wanted to strike out at him next because she was hurting. And that was what Nesta did when she hurt. She struck out at anything that was close so the pain was shared because she couldn’t bear to be alone with her agony.

Eventually, her harsh breathing calmed and she turned her eyes to the ground, but Eris kept on holding onto her.

‘These are words that deserve to be known. I’m not trying to hide them or stop you from expressing your pain – but we must be cautious about our surroundings.’

Eris would have sorely enjoyed watching Nesta give Cassian the verbal lashing of his life, perhaps even unleash her beautiful fire on him, but not in the Prison. It gave too much information to monsters who’d use it to hurt her. One day though, Nesta would have that opportunity to air her grievances with the Night Court. He would stand at her side.

Nesta’s hand gripped his tightly as they continued walking past the dozens of cells on the spiralling path downwards. She had every right to be hurt. Life had never been fair to her. Eris would go through hell for her, bleed for her, but he’d remove her fingers from the blade too to stop her from using it. Whether it was waging war or brokering for peace, Eris would do it all for her. 

In a terse silence, they continued their descent. The air grew heavier, practically pressing down on their bodies. Only the soft scuff of their boots over the stone filled the silence. Eris could not tear his eyes away from Nesta. He knew his wife well enough to notice her little tells. Her brows pinched occasionally or her lips parted briefly as she concentrated.

‘What are you listening to?’

She gave him a surprised look. ‘You can’t hear it?’

Cassian’s jaw tensed as Nesta pressed forwards down a tunnel with purpose. The way she moved suggested to Eris that she knew exactly where she was going, and that worried him. She came to a stop before an iron door with a single rune etched into it. Eris glanced to Cassian who stared with horror at whatever foul beast lay behind it.

But it wasn’t the door that Nesta reached for. Her fingers touched the bald stone next to it. She gave a gasp then her hand sunk through the stone as if it was an illusion.

Eris yanked her back, heart in his mouth. ‘Don’t do that!’

‘It’s there. It told me.’

‘What told you?’ Cassian pressed, eyes going wide.

Nesta shook her head as if trying to clear it. ‘I can’t say.’

When Eris tried to follow his wife’s movements, he was met only with stone. It was impenetrable to either male, no matter what they tried.

‘This is a bad idea. You are not going through those wards.’

At Cassian’s command, Nesta’s nostrils had flared. She turned to Eris, expecting him to say the opposite to prove Cassian wrong, but Eris couldn’t. It was not about Cassian’s control now. He knew this Prison best out of the three. Anything could be luring Nesta to it. There were enough nefarious creatures here that it wouldn’t have surprised Eris if one of them was calling to Nesta. Her sinking into wards that nobody had discovered before was a recipe for disaster. What if they couldn’t get her back out?

‘It’s there. I can feel it.’

‘Good. Then we leave it there,’ replied Cassian, throwing up his hands.

There was nothing more stubborn than a female who knew she was right. Nesta had folded her arms across her chest, refused to move a step unless she could pass through the stone and examine what lay beyond it. Eris had snagged his fingers into her belt, just in case she tried to give him the slip. The Illyrian’s siphons were pulsing with red light.

‘We’re at an impasse.’

‘No, we’re not. It is beyond those wards. I can take care of myself. Let me do this.’

The battle was lost. He had to trust his wife, trust she could look after herself. Eris pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. ‘If a single hair is out of place, I will kill everything in this Prison.’

‘I expect nothing less.’

With muted horror, Cassian and Eris stood as Nesta passed through the stone as if she was moving through water. A few moments later, she re-emerged to announce that there were no monsters then she was gone once more.  

‘How could you let her go there?’

Every moment in the Illyrian’s company had Eris wanting to punch him squarely in the jaw a little more. How had Nesta put up with him for so long? Then again, they locked her in a house so she couldn’t escape him.

‘My wife is her own person. I’m not her keeper.’

‘You have no idea what might happen to her in there.’

Eris blinked. ‘Isn’t this the same male who left her alone in the Bog of Oorid with no training?’

‘That was different,’ he spat.

The lies that the Night Court told themselves to soothe their conscience was truly a wonder to behold. Eris wondered if they earnestly believed the drivel that they spouted. He supposed if they said it enough times, they would eventually take it for fact.

‘You shouldn’t have brought her to this place. It’s too dangerous for somebody like her. She shouldn’t be anywhere near your court. Nesta belongs with her sisters. She belongs in the Night Court. She belongs-’

‘If you say “with me”, I will run you through with her blade. If I was your high lord, I’d be concerned whether you had taken too many blows to the head – or if your skull is so thick that you cannot comprehend that where Nesta belongs is exactly where she chooses to be.’

Eris let each word land, harder than the last. His tone was even. Sometimes it was more effective to keep a measured tone rather than rage; he’d learnt that enough times from Beron. ‘Nesta is not yours. Don’t think because there’s a silly, little bond connecting you that it gives you any sort of ownership over her.’

Cassian snorted. ‘But as your wife, she’s your possession now?’

‘Not in the slightest. Nesta chose to be my wife. Chose to be my lover.’

That one wounded him. Eris saw the flash of a grimace on Cassian’s face.

‘I bet you fucking love getting one back over me and Mor.’

Eris fixed him with a stare then looked away, disinterested. ‘When I’m with wife, I don’t think of you at all.’

The general’s face was darkened by shadow. ‘She is my mate. It is a Cauldron-blessed bond.’

Maybe.

‘The Cauldron hates Nesta, doesn’t it? You are not a blessing, Cassian. Only a curse.’

The brute’s hand went the hilt of Ataraxia, but before he could react, a shudder was felt through the stone Prison. Eris braced a hand on the wall to steady his quaking legs.

Then they heard a shrieking. Not Nesta. Something other.

***

The metal sconces hammered into the wall did not illuminate as they had in the main Prison. Cautiously, Nesta allowed the beast from its cage so crisp, silver light danced in the torches. Her eyes adjusted quickly.

She was in a circular chamber. The walls were lined with seven arches that were painted white and decadently carved. The room was so at odds with the rest of the Prison. Nesta glanced down to the floor; it was pale blue, almost grey in colour but there were also raised, black symbols spiralling the way to the centre. And in its centre was the golden Harp. It was a pretty, delicate thing covered in intricate embossing and set with thin, silver strings.

The enchanting music that had been calling to Nesta had ceased since she entered the chamber. It was only now that she registered its absence.

Before Nesta stepped onto one of the markings, she halted. This was Prythian. Ancient Prythian, maybe. Using techniques that Eris had taught her, she let her magic slither across the ground. Some of the symbols seemed to absorb her magic, others were unchanged. That was the path she would take then.  

Swallowing against the dryness in her throat, Nesta took a hesitant step towards one of the markings that her magic hadn’t reacted to. It was similar to wading through mud as deep as her knees. She couldn’t raise her foot, only drag it to the next marking.

Just a test, she told herself. The Harp wouldn’t be so easily taken.

With every step closer to the instrument, movement became more difficult, but she could still breathe, still think. They were only spells to protect the Harp. And Nesta had no plans to use the Harp. Just to keep it safe from Briallyn or Koschei.

The magic seemed to ease out a breath then as if it had recognised Nesta as a protector rather than an enemy. Her path through the etchings became easier until her fingers were poised to touch it. The Harp rested on the heart of an eight-pointed star. Its cardinal points stretched longer than the others.

Her fingers brushed the icy metal. The Harp hummed against her skin, as if it still held its final note, from the last time it had been used-

Fae screamed, pounding on the stone that hadn’t been there a moment before, pleading for their children’s sakes, begging to be let out let out let out-

Nesta had the sensation of falling, tumbling through air and stars and time—

It was a trap, and our people were too blind to see it—

Eons and stars and darkness plunged around her—

The Fae clawed at stone, tearing their nails on rock where there had once been a door. But the way back was now forever sealed, and they begged as they tried to pass their children through the solid wall, if only their children could be spared—

Light flashed, blinding. When it cleared, she stood in a white-stoned palace.

A great hall, where five thrones graced a dais. The sixth throne, in the center, was occupied by a pointy-eared crone. A golden, spiked crown rested on her head, blazing like the hate in her black eyes.

The Fae crone stiffened, blue velvet robes shifting with the movement. Her eyes, clear despite her wrinkled face, sharpened. Right on Nesta.

‘You have the Harp,’ the queen said, voice like crinkling paper. And Nesta knew who she stood frozen before, what crown lay on her thin, white hair. Briallyn’s gnarled fingers curled on the arms of her throne, and her gaze narrowed. The queen smiled, revealing a mouth of half-rotted teeth.

Nesta backed up a step—or tried to. She couldn’t move.

Briallyn’s horrible smile deepened and she said conversationally, ‘My spies have told me who your friends are. The priestess and the broken Illyrian. Such lovely friends.’

Nesta’s blood churned, and she knew her eyes were blazing with her power as she snarled, ‘You come near them and I’ll rip out your throat. I will hunt you down and gut you.’

Briallyn tutted. ‘Such bonds are foolish. As foolish as you still holding on to the Harp, which sings answers to all my questions. I know where you are, Nesta Archeron—'

Darkness erupted. Unmoving, solid darkness, slamming into Nesta as hard as a wall. Her hand wouldn’t dislodge its grip still around the Harp.

Let go, she thought desperately.

As if hearing her plea, the Harp seemed to cling onto her harder.

Let me out, she begged.  

It has been a long while, sister, since I played. I shall need time to remember the right combinations, a beautiful, haughty voice answered, full of music so lovely that it broke her heart to hear it.

The Harp was answering to her.  

The small strings are for games—light movement and leaping—but the longer, the final ones … Such deep wonders and horrors we could strum into being. Such great and monstrous magic I wrought with my last minstrel. Shall I show you?

No. Just open up these wards. Let me out of here.

As you wish. Pluck the first string, then.

Nesta didn’t hesitate as her fingertip curled over the first string, grasping and then releasing it. A musical laugh filled her mind, but the weight lifted. Vanished.

The spells that had been holding her in place – holding her there at that window to the mortal queen – had released. She tossed off her cloak and wrapped the Harp in it so it wouldn’t stick itself to her hands again.

With shaking breaths, Nesta followed her magic back through its chosen path, but it was livelier somehow, bolting towards the walls and fizzling as if it was excited. It had been encouraged by the horrible memory the Harp had shown her. It bolstered against the sides of its cage, wanting to be out, more, more, more.

Nesta pushed against the stone then her body began to slip through it, as easy as breathing.

She’d come out through the wrong wall into an empty cell. There was no light within, but faintly, Nesta could make out the flicker of amber light through the open door.

A cold sensation slithered down her spine.

‘Ah. I see what you hide in that cloak, daughter of the sea. Long have I wondered who would come to claim it. I could hear its music, you know. Its final note, like an echo in the stone, ringing out through eternity. I was surprised to find it down here, hidden beneath the Prison, after all that time.’

It was a male’s voice, cool and cunning, running over her skin like silk in the darkness. Nesta could not make out any figure within the cell. She took a step back, ready to enter the previous chamber, but the wards would not allow her through again.

A mist swirled about her feet, which felt like a cat brushing against her shins.

Nesta unsheathed her dagger. At the sight of it, the mist recoiled. It was sucked away towards the cell door where it writhed and contorted into something solid that bloomed with colour.

A naked, golden-haired male stood before her. His golden skin was sculpted with muscle, like a statue of a God. He was beautiful, so beautiful that Nesta let out a soft breath of air.

‘That is not Narben. What is in your hand, daughter of bone, daughter of blood and the sea?’

Her grip tightened around the handle as she crossed it across her body, ready to strike if the male came closer.

The male sucked in a breath through his nose, letting his eyes close. ‘Not a witch. Not fae. Not truly. Which death-god are you? Who are you beneath the flesh?’

‘I am nobody.’

‘Tell me whose fire burns silver in your gaze.’

‘My own,’ she spat.

A dimple pressed into the male’s cheek as he smiled at Nesta, as if completely enamoured by her answer. ‘I galloped at the head of the Wild Hunt. I summoned the hounds whose baying had the world cowering. Fae and beast bowed before me. Lanthys, they call me.’

Lanthys took a step closer to her and Nesta wished she had never come to this place.

‘I know what you are. Who you are. You are the one the sea, and the wind, and the earth whispered of. You are a female of death and decay and bone and blood.’ His golden eyes closed. ‘Nesta.’

The sound of her name on his lips was like a song. One that was more beautiful than she had ever heard before.

‘You do not even know what you could do. Come. I shall show you.’ He smiled again and it was a warm, loving thing. He reached out a hand for her. ‘Come with me, Queen of Queens, and we shall return what was once lost.’ The words were a lullaby to calm her erratic heart. ‘We shall rebuild what we were before the golden legions of the Fae cast off their chains and overthrew us. We shall resurrect the Wild Hunt and ride rampant through the night. We shall build palaces of ice and flame, palaces of darkness and starlight. Magic shall flow untethered again.’

Nesta could see the portrait Lanthys wove into the air around them. She saw herself on a black throne, a matching crown in her unbound hair. Enormous onyx beasts—scaled, like those she’d seen on the Hewn City’s pillars—lay at the foot of the dais. Ataraxia leaned against her throne, and on her other side … Lanthys sat there, his hand laced through hers, a golden ribbon tying them together. Their kingdom was endless; their palace built of pure magic that lived and thrived around them.

Slowly, Nesta reached out for his hand.

The vision shifted, and they writhed on a great black bed. The golden skin of Lanthys’s back shined as he moved inside her. Soon his seed would take root in her womb and the child she would bear him would rule entire universes—

Lanthys made a choking sound.

The tip of a blade was thrust through his stomach. 

The magic inside of it had turned the blade a scorched copper.

‘Do not touch my wife.’

Eris, bloodied and pale, withdrew the blade then struck once more, hard and sure through Lanthys’ body.

The immortal gargled then spluttered on black blood. It sprayed across Nesta’s face, so close she had been standing to him, poised to take his hand into oblivion. Her hand went to her abdomen that she had just seen swollen with a child. Lanthys’ child. He continued to writhe on the floor, torn between a male and smoke, until only ash remained.

Eris hauled Nesta to him with one arm. His other still held the sword that was black with Lanthys’ blood. ‘Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?’

‘No. I. I think I opened all of the wards. I opened his cell.’

‘Yeah, you opened every cell on the lower levels, Nes,’ puffed Cassian from outside of the cell. He also had blood on his cheek, but it was a strange, iridescent green.

‘We’ve killed three. But another eight are still loose.’

‘Eight. Can’t we get help?’

Cassian shook his head. The Prison was designed that way. It was an oubliette where monsters were sent to be forgotten about. And Nesta had let them out of their cage.

She pressed her forehead to the stone, whispered to it for help, whispered to those she saw in her vision who were trapped here to help in some way.

‘I’ll go first. Nesta behind me. Eris at the rear.’

Cassian wasted no time in ploughing forwards. All three of them kept their weapons readied. With Cassian’s wings in her face, Nesta had nothing to look upon so her efforts were spent coaxing her magic back inside of its cage. It had never deliberately tried to hurt her before, but now it had taken on a different character entirely. It wanted to be used. Wanted to cause destruction. And it was growing cross with Nesta that she wasn’t unleashing it. But she couldn’t let it out here when Eris and Cassian were so close to her.

‘Stop,’ Cassian murmured. She didn’t hear it in time and shuffled squarely into a wing, stinging her cheek.

The comforting weight of Eris’ hand against the small of her back stopped her from swearing at Cassian.

The Illyrian peered over an edge then nodded his chin to Eris. Before she could even blink, a tidal wave of flame scorched the sheer drop. There was a strange, shrieking then a sound like a pot boiling. Eris touched her shoulder to signal that they needed to move again.

‘Four,’ Cassian murmured.

Her terror dragged her down into a pit of despair. If there hadn’t been a male leading the way, and another encouraging her to continue, she might have given up. She tried to think of good things, of Cotton-tail bounding around the room and leaping over Safera, of Gwyn and Emerie laughing together, of Feyre holding her child, but the images turned to ashes. She saw Cotton-tail’s neck snapped by Beron’s hands, Briallyn coming for her friends, Feyre dying with the babe still in her womb.

‘Something’s here,’ said Eris. ‘It’s scraping at my mental shields.’

‘Nesta, run.’

The words barely registered then a wing clipped her again as Cassian turned, she felt his rough hand shove her forwards. There was a flash of light as Eris’ fire scoured the wall. Red light blasted the other side, shaking the whole Prison. She ran. She kept running and then, in her fear, her magic leaked out. Silver flames spilt across the floor, up the walls, across the arched ceiling threatening to devour anything that stepped into its unrelenting path.

‘Stop,’ she begged of it. ‘ Please stop.’

Over the roar of her magic, she could make out the clang of a sword, the crackle of Eris’ flames, the rumble deep behind her as both males used their power against whatever monster had been released by her.

Eventually, her flames subsided. Enough had been spent that her magic had grown weary and slunk back inside of its cage willingly to rest. Nesta fell to her knees, tearing the cloth on the rough stone.

‘Nesta?’

Blue light filtered down the tunnel. She let out a sob of relief as Azriel hauled her to her feet then checked her over quickly for injuries.

‘You came.’

‘The sentries told…’ His voice trailed off as the shadowsinger heard the cacophony from the lower levels. ‘Stay here.’

‘Don’t leave me.’

‘Nesta, stay here.’

Her breaths came in cold shards as Nesta remained with her back pressed against the stone. The Harp was still bundled under her arm, safely wrapped in her cloak, and her dagger remained in her hand.

It felt like an eternity that Nesta waited there. Tears ran in ribbons down her cheeks. How had Amren survived so long in a place that could invoke such fear?

The scuff of boots pounded up the stairs. Azriel’s blue light bled across the tunnel first, but Eris had jostled him out of the path to get to Nesta. He cupped her face briefly then his lips met her own, not caring if the Illyrians saw.

‘I was so scared.’

‘I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I brought you here. A little further and we’ll be home. Can you keep going for me?’

Nesta touched Eris then pulled her bloodied fingers away. ‘You’re hurt.’

‘It’s only a scratch, my love. Stay by my side. We’re nearly out.’

 Their group did not linger for long. Their steps hurried over the stone, eager to be rid of the Prison and its inhabitants. Eris’ steps came sluggishly, his breaths ragged. Nesta put her arm around him to support some of his weight.

Finally, the great gates swung open.

‘About time,’ came Rhysand’s voice though it was too bright to see him clearly, only his winged outline.

‘Some are loose. Two more. A bukavac and the vodyanoy from Oorid.’

‘Loose?’

The gates shut behind them and Nesta had never been so glad to feel the fine spray of mist from the sea before. She took great, gulping breaths of air into her lungs.

‘The Prison might deal with them itself,’ suggested Azriel.

‘No, I will. See Eris and Nesta down the mountain before they winnow.’ Rhys jerked his chin towards the path they needed to take.

After their day, the last thing Nesta wanted was to hike down the cliff. She turned to Eris, but he was as pale as snow, even his lips. A dark stain had bloomed on his shirt. ‘I’m alright.’

‘Do something,’ Nesta shrieked, pressing her hands against his abdomen. Her fingers were soon covered in his blood.

‘Get him to Madja,’ commanded Rhys.

‘Orla,’ Eris managed. ‘Take me to Orla.’    

@owllover123 @rarephloxes @fanboy7794 @sugardoll22 @kitkat-writes-stuff @this-is-rochelle @sv0430 @embersofwildfire

[summersnow82]

Somethin' Bad - Part 18

Summary: We get a glimpse into the Hackett's past.

Trigger Warnings: Attempted murder, abuse, pregnancy loss, miscarriage

Author's Note: I apologize for the delay - I've had some medical issues that have taken up a LOT of head space for me, plus it's baseball season for the kiddos. (Y'all, T-Ball is the cutest thing EVER!) Thanks for sticking with me. This chapter's a bit short, and I'll do my best to get the next out quicker.

Part 18

“Who did you lose, Travis?” The question hung in the air, and Travis let the silence grow between him and the younger man. Sean’s gaze didn’t waiver, and he seemed content to wait for an answer.

Travis looked away first, scoffing as he grabbed for the bottle again. “Shaddup.” Sean waited, his piercing blue eyes steady on Travis; blue eyes much brighter than Evie’s.

“Oh, honey, that’s… that’s a big question right there.” Annabelle was surprised her question was the one thing to seemingly throw Darlene’s composure. “I mean, you really should be asking Travis about this.”

“Travis isn’t here, though,” Annabelle replied gently. “And honestly, after what happened today I think I have a right to know what’s going on if I’m going to stick around.”

“Tell her, Darlene,” Frank’s said, stopping in his tracks to turn and look at the two women. They’d finally left Travis’ house, and Frank had insisted on carrying Annabelle’s backpack. She’d crammed as much of her and Sean’s things in as possible, and the weight was clearly getting to the older man. “Tell her,” he repeated. “She deserves to know if she’s going to continue seeing him. Needs to know what she’s getting herself into.”

Darlene sighed, resigned to the fact her husband was right. That didn’t make it any easier, though. “Oh, honey.”

Evelyn House was one of the prettiest girls in North Kill. Her beauty radiated from the inside out, only emphasizing her chestnut curls and slate blue eyes. She was fair of face with a figure like a 1950s starlet, and she was known for her keen intellect and gentle demeanor. It was odd to the townsfolk of North Kill she would willingly choose to date a Hackett boy, especially Travis. Despite their prestige and history within the town, everyone knew Constance Hackett had lofty goals for all her boys, none of which included dating a small town girl.

Travis, on the other hand, fell for Evelyn the first time she smiled at him from across the chapel during mass. She was surrounded by kids from their class, but it was clear she would have preferred to be by his side.

“Travis has always had that air about him like a wounded animal. Makes a kind soul like Evelyn want to take him in, and breathe life back into him.”

And she did.

Whenever Travis was around Evie he felt loved, important, seen. His mother’s criticism didn’t sting as much, and his father’s indifference didn’t seem as palpable. Constance noticed, and she did not approve.

“I planned to marry her. Planned to have a whole mess of kids with her. An unplanned pregnancy before the wedding didn’t bother me, but it sure bothered her pa.”

“I will never, ever understand parents who cast their children out,” Darlene said, shaking her head sadly. “Travis was so brave, standing up to Hugo, and telling him a baby was a blessing no matter what. Telling him they were going to get married anyway. Her daddy wouldn’t hear it, though. Said he’d give her the abortion himself.” Annabelle shuddered at the thought. “I’ve never seen Travis so terrified.”

Frank had slowed his pace, wrapping an arm around his wife as he sensed her grief. “Darlene took Evie in after that. The poor girl was too scared to stay in her own house.”

“She finished the semester out with me. Her parents didn’t even come to graduation, although I know her mama wanted to come. I knew Hugo was a hard man, but I didn’t know how hard.”

Annabelle felt a chill run down her spine, and the hair on her arms raise; some of the puzzle pieces were beginning to fall into place.

Constance Hackett never liked Evelyn, but Chris and Bobby adored her. Travis was excited for the baby, and they were happy for their brother and soon to be sister-in-law.

“I suppose… you hope for something long enough when it eventually happens you don’t stop to question why it’s happening. I should’ve warned her. Should’ve been more suspicious. But I thought...”

“Evie wanted Connie to like her so badly, especially after everything that happened with her folks. She was so happy when Connie invited her over. ‘Just us girls’, she’d said. Had the boys set up to go fishing while they had tea and talked about the nursery Connie was working on.”

North Kill was quiet as Darlene spoke, as if the town knew what was coming, and it held too much respect for the past to make a sound. The trio stood in a small circle on the sidewalk under a tree slowly waking up to the coming spring. Silent tears ran down Frank’s face while Darlene’s eyes shone brightly with her own tears threatening to overflow.

Sean’s breath was caught in his chest. Travis had been silent for a long time now, staring off in the distance, reliving the past. When his eyes finally fell on Sean they looked vacant and hollow. “You’re lucky you survived that house, you know. Most of us don’t.”

Looking back, Evelyn admitted Constance’s insistence of having the nursery on the third floor was odd. Evelyn overlooked it, though, chiding herself for even acknowledging the mental red flag when Constance was making such an effort to bury the hatchet. One minute she was standing at the top of the stairs, and the next she was in the hospital in anguish.

Annabelle was shaking her head, willing away the words she knew were coming next. “No.”

“The baby didn’t make it,” Darlene whispered, a sob breaking through, and she buried her face in her hands.

Frank moved to wrap his arms around his wife, meeting Annabelle’s horrified stare as she continued to shake her head. “No. No.”

“Dunno if it was the surgery or the understanding of what happened, but Evie barely made it through. Her folks didn’t show for awhile. Her ma finally came by to say she could come home now that the baby was gone.” Travis’ mouth twisted into a hard knot, and he took another swig from the bottle.

“...and your mom?” Sean was afraid to ask. The nausea was building, bile rising in his throat as the story continued to unravel.

Travis cast a withering glare in his direction. “What do you think, college boy?”

Evelyn refused to press charges even though everyone suspected she didn’t lose her balance as Constance claimed. Any cordial feeling Constance had presented were gone, and she never stepped foot in the hospital. It was suspected, though never proven, that Evelyn laid on the floor far longer than Constance originally stated; an ambulance only gave Constance the illusion of caring, and the doctors suspected the bruising on Evie’s stomach was from more than a hard fall down several flights of stairs.

“Hank tried to get Evie to press charges, but she wouldn’t do it. Kept saying it wouldn’t bring back her baby boy. All it would do would cause Travis more pain, and she wouldn’t do that. Loved him too much.”

Annabelle felt cold all over. “Get in the house before someone dies,” she murmured, recalling Travis’s words earlier. She felt like she was going to be sick again. “Where is Evie now?” She asked hesitantly.

“Her aunt and uncle down in North Carolina heard the news. They were livid with her folks. Came all the way up here, and offered to take her back with them. She could go to college there, and what scholarships didn’t cover they’d take care of for her.” Travis shrugged. “Seemed like good people for the short time I met them.”

“He told her to go. Told her it was a chance she couldn’t pass up. Tried to seem casual about it, but I know that boy inside and out,” Frank said softly. “He cast her out like he did you because he knew in his gut what his mother had done. Knew it even if no one could prove it. Knew she’d try again, and this time Evie wouldn’t survive.” Frank held her gaze steady and intensely, and Annabelle knew he was thinking of what could’ve happened if they hadn’t shown up this afternoon. Annabelle’s chill grew. “He didn’t turn you out because he doesn’t love you anymore,” Frank said firmly, holding her gaze. “He turned you out to keep history from repeating itself.”

Sean swallowed the bile rising in his throat. Travis was wrapping his story up. “… last I heard she was teaching Kindergarten. Got married, adopted a couple a kids on account of…,” he trailed off, sniffing and taking a long pull from the almost empty bottle. “On account of my mother’s handiwork preventing her from having kids on her own.” He shook his head, laughing bitterly. “Called herself damaged goods. Said I should marry someone who could give me kids of my own.” Travis slammed the bottle down on the desk so hard a framed picture tipped off the side. Sean reached for it quickly, catching it before it hit the ground. “See how well that worked out, huh?”

Sean stared at the picture in front of him. Travis was in his army uniform, kneeling next to a little boy.

“My nephew Caleb,” Travis told him, reaching for the picture. “One of the few who tried to save you from that hell of a house.”

Sean was silent for a moment, trying to read Travis’ face. “I’ll make sure to thank him,” he replied softly. “Travis - ,” he began.

“Don’t.” Travis shook his head, tilting the bottle back to finish it off. “Just… you asked. Now you know.”

“So now you know,” Darlene said, her voice wispy from her tears.

“Yeah,” Annabelle replied quietly, nodding. “Now I know.” And I kinda wish I didn’t, she added silently. Because now… now she understood Travis on a whole new level. Now it felt like there was much more at stake than just ending a werewolf curse.

[hotcoffeetransformation]

Jason swore loudly and had to resist the urge to throw his controller down, pissed that he kept dying cause of the game's stupid glitches (Also known as own mistakes). Still, he regained his composure, and smiled before saying

"Alright chat, we're gonna finish up this one and then we're gonna move on to another game. There should be a poll on top for what we do next"

Jason was a moderately successfully game streamer, averaging about 200 to 300 viewers a night, entirely based on his wit and skill. He knew for sure that they weren't coming for his looks, given his weedy, thin frame, overly pimpled face and large, nerdy glasses. Still, it was enough for him, and he was happy with the progress that he'd made.

As Jason got himself set up for the next game, he heard a shocking sound from above him. The victory theme from one of his favorite JRPGs was blaring through the speakers, and he came up, staring at the screen in shock. He knew what that sound meant. That meant someone had tipped him one thousand dollars, completely out of nowhere.

He looked in shock at the notification on the stream, seeing that it was from someone named JockBro69, with the simple message "Can't wait to get to know you better, cutie~"

Jason was completely stunned. Not only had someone actually redeemed the donation goal that he set as a joke (That being that whoever was stupid enough to tip 1000 dollars got to have a 15 minute private chat with him), it was also someone that he'd never seen in his chat before.

Thoroughly weirded out, but knowing that he had to honor his commitment, he sent the guy a quick private message.

"Dude, I don't know how to thank you enough! Guess I'll see ya pretty soon!"

With that, he sent the man his private zoom link, and said goodbye to the chat, who were still going wild over this turn of events, before pausing,the stream and hopping over to discord for the call.

Not two seconds after his stream stopped, he got a requested video call on discord from the guy, and he opened it up, giving a second for the video to load, but when it did, he was completely dumbfounded again. He was expecting the mysterious donator to be some fat, sweaty silicon valley nerd with too much and money on his hands, but instead what met him was possibly the hottest man he's ever seen, standing up and looking down at his webcam with a friendly expression.

"Fuck, bro! Its so good to finally fucking meet you, I've been such a big fan for a long time, and this is a really big deal for me~

The man had a deep, rumbling, pleasant voice, that shot straight down Jacob's spine and left him feeling strangely... inadequate. Like the fact that his voice wasn't as smooth or melodic as this guy's was his fault, and he should be ashamed of that fact. Still, this guy was pretty pleasant to look at, Jason had to admit. He wasn't gay, definitely not, but he could acknowledge when another guy simply looked good.

Jason scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not entirely sure of what he should do or say. Still, this guy spent 1000 dollars on this meeting, so he had to try anyway.

"So, umm.... I see your username is jockbro69... What's your actual name thought? I don't think I've ever seen you in chat before..."

The other man actually laughed at this, before looking confused and saying

"What are you talking about bro? Its me, Ethan! I'm in your chat all the time! Man, I guess what they say about playing games so much is true, huh?"

At this statement, Jason actually went pale with shock. THIS was Ethan? This was the guy who's username used to be runningLink? Who was an active fan of the zelda series, constantly begged Jason to play them, and bemoaned the fact that no would date him? It just didn't seem right...

Still, Jason, ever the semi professional, continued on, pretending that he wasn't shocked at the news.

"Well, thanks for supporting me so much! Seriously, this means a lot to me... Ummm... so I guess tell me some of your favorite things about the channel then!"

The man laughed again, the sound coming out in a slow, dumb chuckle, before saying

"What's my favorite thing? Do I even have to say, bro? Its the amazing piece of eye candy I'm looking at right now. You're super hot, bro~"

At this, Jason was shocked, but he chuckled awkwardly while blushing, and said

"Really? I don't think I've ever heard a single person say that before. I guess I consider myself slightly below average..."

The guy looked confused at that, before pressing on

"Really, bro? You look super hot to me, you got those bright, blinding blue eyes that you can just get lost in~"

At this point, Jason knew the man was just messing with him. His eyes have always, and will always be a dark, muddy brown, hidden behind his massive frames. Jason was about to respond, when Ethan continued

"Yeah, and you got that super stylish haircut too, really makes you look super masculine~"

Now Jason was REALLY confused. The guy was right, he did always get complements on his eyes, the bright, shocking blue visible and striking even through his huge glasses. But his hair was always a long, unkempt greasy mess.

"Ethan, are you sure you're okay, you're not just seeing things? Cause I don't know what you're talking about"

Ethan ignored the comment, just continuing to press on

"And you've got that hot, manly face, with your strong jaw and amazing profile"

Jason was confused again. Sure, his stylish haircut did help him look much better, but his face had always been pretty androgynous, with hints of baby fat still present in his cheeks. Again, before he could interrupt, Ethan continued,

"And you've got that smooth smooth skin, that hot stubble, that sexy smirk of yours. You're the full package bro~"

Jason laughed at this. Ethan was clearly being way too complementary. Sure his face had a great shape to it, with strong cheekbones and a square jaw, but his skin was still acne marked as hell, his smile was crooked and awkward, and he'd never been able to grow any facial hair, no matter how much he tried.

"I really have no idea what you're talking about Ethan. Sure I've got some good features, but the overall package isn't much to write home about~"

Ethan smirked again, his eyes lighting up with humor, as if he knew something I didn't.

"Nah, bro, you're underselling yourself. Plus, you've got that body~"

"What about my body? I think its pretty average, though I guess I'm a bit on the skinny side..."

Jason looked down at himself, trying to contemplate what Ethan meant. Sure, he'd been blessed with an attractive, manly face, but it didn't change the fact that his body was still below average at best.

"Again, bro! Putting yourself down. You really think those massive logs you have for arms are below average?"

Jason looked down at his skinny arms, and said

"More like logs than twigs man, seriously."

"And what about your legs? You've spent so long working on em, you've got thighs and glutes to kill for~"

Jason laughed again

"I dunno man! Most people say the exact opposite. They say I spend too much time on arms and not enough on my torso and legs. What can I say though? I love having big, beefy arms."

"Of course you do, bro? Who wouldn't? Especially when right in between em, you got your big, pillowy chest, your sexy abs, and your super toned back~"

Jason was seriously starting to wonder if Ethan was on something. Anyone could clearly see from first glance that Jason's body was badly proportioned, his arms and legs being massive from months to years of work, while he neglected his back, pecs and ab muscles. Still, he thought he looked pretty alright honestly.

"And I especially love how you're not only super sexy, you know it and flaunt it~ I don't think I've ever seen you once wear a shirt. The most you'll wear is a necklace, and even then, not like that covers anything, bro~ Only makes you look sexier"

Now here Jason had to disagree. He knew that he had cultivated and developed an amazing body over his years of going to the gym, but that was all for his own personal satisfaction. He never flaunted it unnecessarily, especially not during a stream.

"And I love the fact that you're such a fucking bro, bro. Every other word out of your mouth is bro and dude, you can't go even five minutes without flexing and thinking of fucking, or going to the gym, or hanging out with your other hot bros. We all know that your brain is basically only good for working out and looking hot. No smart's up there. And you've got your deep, sexy voice, too. Makes it even hotter that you're a gay bro, just like me"

Jason HAD to laugh at that. What the guy was saying was just so ridiculous.

"What the hell are you talking about? Look, I know that I like to show off my sexy body a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm some kind of dumb jock. And I'm definitely straight, dude. Don't know why you'd think I'm gay"

Ethan pressed on, completely unabashed by Jason's last comments.

"But you know the best fucking part, bro? Its that power of yours. The fact that any weak ass nerd who looks at you and your huge fucking muscles grows into a hot, dumb bro like us within seconds~"

Jason was busy flexing, staring at his own bicep in awe, as if he was shocked by him impressive he was. He looked up at Ethan blearily, saying

"Sorry, bro, what'd you say? I guess I got a bit fucking distracted. Huhuhu. But who could blame me~"

"Nah, it was nothing bro. You don't need to worry about it. Now should head back to the stream?"

Jason gasped in excitement, having forgotten entirely about the fact that there was a whole stream audience full of lame ass nerds, just ready for him to make as sexy as he and Ethan were.

"You got it bro~ This is gonna be so fucking hot~"

Jason left the call, going back to the stream and restarting, glad to see that a full 300 people were still watching, even through the extended break. The second he turned his camera on, he could see that people were confused for some reason, saying a stranger broke into his house. How stupid could these people be? How did they not recognize him? Still, not like it would matter for long...

"Hey bros! How're we all fucking doing? Welcomes to today's stream..."

He trailed off, looking blankly at the camera, before saying

"You know what? Fuck video games! Who needs them when you can do this~"

And as his pecs bounced and bounced hypnotically, the chat slowly transitioned from messages like "What the fuck is happening?" or "Who is this dumb jock?" to "Fuck, bro! Your pecs look so fucking hot today!" and "Huhuhu, I love making my pecs bounce like Jace's~"

And so the stream continued, Jace showing everyone all the amazing things his body could do, while anyone that was watching, whether they wanted to or not, began to copy him exactly. And as the stream went on, the viewer count rose, and rose, and rose...

[mercy-burning]

Affection

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Y/N decidedly hate each other. But when a near-death experience puts one of them in a coma, their mutual hatred might have to take a backseat— Or will it? Category: Angst / Happy Ending! + Humor and a lil bit of Fluff Content: Strong language, Reader is in a coma, mentions of injury, kissing Word Count: 2.6k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This one’s for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) September Writing Challenge, Enemies To Lovers! I have another one coming up as well, but this idea wouldn’t get out of my head ever since I watched The Abyss with my dad and I had to get it out 😅 I hope you like it!!

———

I swear to fucking God, if this motherfucker really thinks he—

That was the last thing Y/N thought before she was knocked out cold.

With her line of work, it was natural to assume that she was thinking about the unsub, but unfortunately the criminal she and her team were tracking down was the farthest thing on her mind. Spencer would have chastised her for it— letting something else cloud her thoughts while she was in a dark alley, alone, and with a serial killer on the loose.

"You should be smarter than that!" she could hear him say in that high pitch he always carried when he was upset— especially with her. "If you don't get yourself killed one of these days, then it'll be the rest of us!"

Thinking about it made her blood boil.

"It's your fault," she wanted to tell him. "I had to blow off some steam because you were pissing me off!"

The only thing was... She couldn't tell him.

Well... She could.

He just couldn't hear her, because no one could.

It was like some stupid, cliché movie, where you found yourself standing over your dying body and having to choose whether to live or not. It seemed like the obvious choice, to fucking live, but... Y/N found herself wandering around her hospital room, yelling into the void and attempting to jump back into her own body.

Nothing was working.

And when Spencer showed up, his face red and his hair and clothes all messed up, she wanted to scream at him.

"Hey!"

Nothing. He was practically lifeless as he drifted to the chair next to her bed and sat down. It was nearly impossible to read from his expression and body language how he was feeling, and that alone was enough to make her angry again. (Not that the anger had really gone away since waking up next to her comatose body, of course.)

"Hey! Dumbass!"

Still nothing.

As Spencer just blankly stared down at Y/N's bed, she decided she'd had enough.

"SPENCER FUCKING REID, IF YOU DON'T HELP ME RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL HAUNT YOUR ASS UNTIL THE END OF ETERNITY, AND I'M GONNA LAY FAT, STINKIN' GHOST SHITS IN YOUR SHOES, DO YOU HEAR ME? AND—"

"I hate you."

It was a bold enough statement to stop Y/N in her tracks, no matter how quietly he'd mumbled it. She knew for sure that he didn't like her, after years of constant bickering and dirty glares and whatever else, but... The word 'hate' was like a knife that sliced through her joking rage and stopped the whole world around her.

If she wasn't already out of her own body, she just knew she would have felt her soul leave.

Spencer didn't hate anyone. Not that she was aware of, anyway. He found nearly everyone delightful, and vice versa... But for some reason, he hated Y/N.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Yeah, well... Feeling's mutual, I guess..."

"You're stupid, and reckless, and you don't think. And you're a goddamn nightmare to work with... You know what— You're a stone-cold bitch."

His words made her physically step backwards, and it felt like if she were a cartoon, there might have been steam coming out of her ears.

"Yeah, well jokes on you, you make it easy," she seethed. "Fuck you!"

"How... How dare you..." he continued, anger reddening his face.

Y/N watched as he balled his fists and leaned in a little closer to her body, his voice tight and strained. "How dare you walk into my life and boss me around and make it impossible to breathe... From the moment I met you, you've brought out this... this fire in me that I can't put out no matter how hard I try, and it's insufferable—You're insufferable, and I hate you, how dare—"

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a shortness of breath. Spencer breathed in, loud and choked, and the next breath he let out was nothing short of a sob. His eyes squeezed shut, tears rolling down them and his hands clutched the bedsheets with a vigor and rage that Y/N had never seen from him, even in all the years she'd spent visibly getting on his last nerves.

"N—No," she choked out, feeling her throat tighten. "Don't... Don't turn into a sappy mess on me now, do you hear me, Reid? You hate me, don't... Don't..."

"I don't hate you," he whispered, wiping his eyes and reaching out to grab her lifeless hand. "I hate that you make me feel this way, but... I could never hate you..."

She wanted nothing more than to be able to squeeze his hand back, to tell him, not even necessarily with words but with a simple gesture, that she was right there and wasn't going to go anywhere.

She just... had to figure out how to make that true.

Still, Spencer kept going, a small laugh bubbling up through tears and phlegm. "But I will hate you if you die, because I just know you're gonna come back and haunt me for eternity... Probably... shit in my shoes or something."

Y/N barked a laugh that was true and pure... Happy, even.

The genius may have acted like he hated her, but it turns out he knew her pretty well, perhaps even fondly in one way or another.

To think— All those years she spent seeing him sneer at her, feeling his glare burn into her soul, the amount of times she caught him making faces or inappropriate gestures behind her back, all of it... And the whole time, he was probably doing it with a little flicker of fondness deep within the confines of his heart, which he swore to fill with nothing but hatred for her.

The thought made the little flicker in her own heart burn brighter.

As she wandered closer to her bed, beside Spencer and in front of her own body, she reached her hand out to see if she could touch his face, to give him something...

Even though she had no luck, something shifted when he spoke.

"Just... Come back to me, please? I know I'm not good at apologizing, but if it means I get you back... I swear that I will make up every horrible thing I've ever done or said to you. Just... Please don't leave me."

He laid his head down in his hands and tried not to cry again, every said horrible thing replaying on a loop in his brain like some kind of taunt. He wished more than anything for a chance to make it up to Y/N, and now he might not ever be able to.

"You think I'd leave this mortal earth without getting the chance to kick your ass?"

Everything was so fuzzy and light and brimming with these high emotions that Y/N almost didn't realize she was saying these words and Spencer was hearing them. She almost didn't feel the warmth of her bloodstream beneath layers of skin, the beat of her heart slowly coming back to life at the sounds and smells of the hospital room.

She almost didn't realize that Spencer was grabbing her now, his warm hands covering her cold ones and bringing them back to life as well.

"Screw you," he breathed with absolutely no malice to be detected in his voice.

They shared a smile so bright, no one would have been able to guess that they never got along.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Not only was she stuck at home doing nothing while on suspension (Yes, it turns out that storming off into an alley and not paying attention while on the job, just because a co-worker pissed you off, can get you suspended by Chief Strauss), but Y/N was also being visited by a daily rotation of her co-workers and friends and family, and her house was nearly covered in flower bouquets and baked goods.

It was a nightmare.

The sentiment was nice, sure, but if she had to move one more vase, she was going to start throwing them.

God, maybe Spencer was right, I am a stone-cold bitch...

Thinking of him also put a little damper on her mood.

He hadn't been to visit her once... And she figured that after their nice little moment at the hospital, he'd at least stop by with flowers or an "I'm glad you're not dead!" call, but there was nothing on his end. Not even a text message or a letter.

But for all she knew, their small moment of kindness could have been a figment of her concussed imagination.

Please, she thought, if I brought it up to him he'd probably just laugh in my face.

Rather than a laugh, Y/N heard the bright sound of her doorbell, which normally would have meant a fun unexpected visit or a date she was getting ready for, but by now it only meant another vase of flowers or a pie from a neighbor she still didn't remember the last name to.

Either way, she answered the door with as polite a smile as she could muster, and instead of finding a vaguely familiar neighbor or acquaintance, she found Spencer.

Though, to be fair, he was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Well, this is a surprise," Y/N drawled, crossing her arms. "I don't even think you've ever been to my house."

She was surprised to see him nervous around her, rather than irritated. And she would have found it endearing had they not been practically mortal enemies from the moment they met... She was suspicious.

"O—Oh, yeah... I know, I just thought... I wanted to come see how you were doing... These are for you."

He held out the flowers, which were truthfully the pretties set she'd received, and it irked her. Because of course he of all people would be the one to tell which kinds of flowers she'd prefer.

"Thanks," she said, taking them from him and allowing him the space to come inside. "Watch out, it's a maze in here..."

While she looked for somewhere to put the flowers on display, she could feel Spencer looking around her space, probably profiling what he could behind a sea of flowers.

"Hm."

Y/N sighed. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just... I'm surprised this many people actually like you."

Despite the nature of his observation, she found it comforting. That level of playful contempt was what she was used to, and it brought a sparkle to her eye as she turned to face him. "Ha... I'm not a complete bitch, you know."

"Sure."

Between the growing grin on his face and the smirk forming on her own, Spencer and Y/N found themselves falling back into a familiar rhythm. And yet, something about it was still... different.

So much so that Y/N felt honest-to-God butterflies in her stomach when he approached, hands retreating from his pockets and head tilting off to the side. His expression held that look he got when he was trying to figure someone out, usually an unsub. She hated to admit it to herself, but a little part of her always found that side of him extremely attractive.

And now that it was right in front of her?

She didn't know what to make of it.

"What?" she snapped, looking for an excuse to hide any and all attraction she was feeling.

Spencer stepped back a little, breaking away from whatever trance he'd just been in. "God, why do you always have to do that?"

"Do what?"

"You push away every single show of affection! Any time I'm trying to be nice, you just act like it's some big inconvenience to you!"

Y/N laughed. "Ha! That's what that was? Just now? When you insulted me, and then started stalking towards me with that look you get when you're interrogating an unsub? That's what you call affection?"

"That's not... That's not what that was!"

"Oh really? Then what was it?"

"It was part of the routine! Banter! Y—You know, that's our thing! We insult each other, and we act like we hate each other but we... We don't, really..."

The longer he went on, the faster her heart raced. This was the moment in the movie where he inevitably blurted out that he loved her, and in turn she would either kiss him or slap him, or slap him and then kiss him...

But Y/N was still feeling rather playful despite the swarm of butterflies in her stomach begging for some relief.

"Oh?" she prompted, taking a slow step closer to him. "We don't?"

Spencer seemed to get red immediately, and he avoided her eyes. "U—Uh... Well I... I thought... Maybe I read it all wrong, a—and I'm sorry if I did..."

She'd been getting closer meanwhile, and now they were practically toe-to-toe. He did his best to ignore her, taking a few steps back until she cornered him against the front door. And with the way he wasn't doing anything to get out of his predicament, she took that as his acceptance and took another leap.

"What..." she cooed, crawling her fingers up the front of his chest like a spider. "You like me? Hmm?"

When he finally looked down at her, she allowed herself to smile, albeit slowly and with calculation.

In a flash Spencer went from nervous to fed-up, weight seeming to visibly lift from his chest as he sank against the door. "You're messing with me..."

"It's so fun."

"You know what, screw you."

"Is that a promise?"

"Maybe it is. What are you gonna do ab—"

She didn't let him finish.

In an instant, Y/N lunged forward and pulled him down for a kiss.

Even though she thought he might have tried to take control of the situation, he ended up surprising her with a wanton moan as his hands clutched at her sides, holding on for dear life. Their bodies and tongues collided in a mess of years worth of pent-up tension, chaotic and wild and fiercely beautiful in a way that put even the greatest first kisses to shame.

And of course, Spencer had to go and ruin it.

He pushed her away and looked almost panicked. "W—Wait, are you even cleared to do this?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, reaching out for him again. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, you were in the hospital! I thought... I thought you were..."

She appreciated the sentiment, but with her entire body on fire from his touch, she decided she needed more of it. "Yeah, but I'm not... I'm very much alive, and you know what?"

He blinked back at her, watching carefully as she leaned in close to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"It's because of you. You make me feel... more alive than I've ever been."

"And... You're not messing with me this time?"

With a laugh,  Y/N shook her head and leaned up to brush her nose with his. "Nuh-uh... But if you'd like to, I'd love to mess with you in a more fun way. And maybe I'll even let you do it back..."

Spencer hummed, feeling himself gravitate towards her more with every passing second. "Deal."

He barely got the word out all the way before she was dragging him through the maze of flora and contained food and into her bedroom, where piece by piece, their hatred and fondness for one another combined to create the most exquisite of nights.

———

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[bakugosbratx]

Baby Eyes | Mafia Katsuki Bakugo x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Some non-con, blood, murder, Mafia Bakugo, Fem! Reader, bdsm, sexual intercourse, size kink, degrading, orgasm denial, Stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, etc.

Words: 2,896

A/N: thank you so much to @daisy-bakugo for letting me participate. It is really fun doing this collaboration with you. Daisy’s Event

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @milkthistletea @idfkwtfgof click here to see my other works

Vegas.

Many dream of this city. The gambling, the drinks, the money, the night life. It has it all. Your dreams and worse nightmares can be made here all within a single night. The world may be cruel, but Vegas is even crueler. At least, it is for Y/N.

Your pistol was held tight in your trembling little hand. You have not been properly trained for this moment since in your late teens. The weapon felt foreign to the touch. You are now in your twenties and you are usually not doing this line of work, but since you wanted to disturb your significant other while he was working, he handed you the gun for you to handle.

“Since you want to be such a fucking cry baby, here.” He growled, shoving the pistol into your pounding chest. You gasped.

“S-Sir, I—“ You stammered, using the name he loved to be called by you. You would help it lessen your punishment, but the man did not budge.

“Don’t keep me waiting, brat. Finish this piece of shit off swiftly and quit your damn crying.”

You watched as he left into the city lights of Vegas before turning your attention back to the male before you. The man begged for mercy beneath you and your mouth feels dry.

“P-Please, ma’am. I-I have a w-wife and t-three beautiful c-children. I’ll g-give you your m-money next week. I-I promise.” The fearful man stammered amongst the abandoned dark alleyway. You have heard this speech by many like him when Katsuki brought you on his missions. It should just fall on deaf ears, but tears still brimmed your eyes as memories flooded back to the forefront of your damaged mind.

These memories are the reason you are in this predicament. You begged and squealed, running towards Katsuki and hanging onto his arm when he directed you to stay in the car. You two could have been gone by now, but you decided to intervene. Now you are here, about to commit another murder.

Your father was in this same position a few years ago. Begging for mercy before Katsuki slaughtered him right in front of you. Your cries still echo this alleyway during late, breezy nights. People think you have been disposed of as well. That is what eventually happened to the remainder of your family, but you are just under a new identity.

The barrel of the gun digs deeper into the victim’s temple. You attempt to find your strength to pull the trigger. You need to before Katsuki returns. He does not like waiting and you really are pushing what is left of his buttons today.

“I’m sorry.” You whimper out, closing your sorrow filled eyes and pressing down on the trigger. The feeling of blood splattering amongst your cold skin brought back even more unwanted memories. Falling to your knees, you began to cry hysterically in front of the fallen corpse.

Heavy footsteps came up behind you after a few moments. Katsuki has been watching the whole time and you know it. This is what made the experience even worse. You know his judgment is coming. He gave you a task and although you succeeded, it isn’t good enough. He hates your emotional ways. ‘Baby eyes’ as he would say. Always crying over something or someone.

A big calloused hand entangling into your hair with a deep sigh following. You could not look up at him. You hate him right now. You need to, at least, but the feeling of his large fingers stroking your scalp delivered comfort. A comfort he gives and takes away on a whim.

“Took you long enough.” Katsuki grumbled. You gaze up at him with a pitiful look he knows all too well. There was a certain aura to you that changed when your mind drifted to that night. The night he murdered your family right in front of you and all you could do is watch in terror.

“I-I’m sorry.” You muttered out, already accepting that Katsuki is annoyed with you. This is not your first murder and sure will not be your last. He has groomed you long enough for you to know your role.

Katsuki kicked the man’s head with his large foot so he could see the man’s pleading face. Katsuki is cruel in that way. He loved seeing his victim’s expressions in their final moments. Especially when his beautiful woman killed them.

Digging into the man’s pockets, he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and black leather wallet to review what was contained inside it. The little cash the man held is now in Katsuki’s possession.

“Marlboro Reds,” Katsuki commented as he slipped the cigarette in between his moist lips and lit it up, “nice.”

Turning around to face you after letting the nicotine enter his system, he looks down at you. Grabbing your chin, you are forced to meet his gaze. You tremble under his touch.

“What did I say about that crying shit?” Katsuki recalls one of your many lectures.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, a little too loud for your own good. Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed together, not pleased with your tone. His hand found a way to your neck, giving you a nice squeeze as he guides you up to your feet.

“Let’s go.” Katsuki growls, his red orbs shooting venom into you. Your arm is now tight into his grip as he leads you to the parked all black Lamborghini.

You climb into the passenger seat while Katsuki climbs into the driver’s. You used the napkins in the glove compartment to clean up your soiled face. Katsuki is already on his second cigarette as he drives to the mansion you both share. Considering how fed up he is with you and your antics, you are surprised that half of the box is not gone by now. You know you are in for it once you arrive home.

Katsuki pulled up to the house after some time. Your tears did not pause once the whole way there which only agitated Katsuki even more. He did not say a word as you know to follow the tall man inside. Straight up the spiral marble staircase to the master bedroom, you begin undressing as Katsuki does not appreciate the mess in his living space. Along with the fact you are always to be naked within the bedroom. That rule was set once you turned eighteen years of age.

You sat on the edge of the bed, not enjoying the look in Katsuki’s angry eyes. His muscular arms folded against his chest as he leaned against the wall, glaring into you. You feel small — as usual — within his presence. He is making sure you remember your place.

“What the hell were you thinking out there, Y/N?” Katsuki begins after moments have passed.

“I-I don’t know.” You mumbled, twiddling your thumbs in your bare lap. Your insides are curling with each passing second. You are not sure why you did what you did, honestly. You have seen numerous people plead for forgiveness at Katsuki’s feet, but Katsuki is always going to be a merciless man. Your body acted before your brain could compute. You just wanted to save him. Salvage your loved ones death in some way, shape, or form, but it can never be done.

“You have to give me a better excuse than that. This little rebellion you're on lately isn’t doing nothing but getting you into heaps of trouble.”

“It’s not a rebellion!” You snap back, tears still spilling from your orbs. “You killed my family, Katsuki!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, used to this statement coming from you. “Here we go again.” He scoffs with a tsk following shortly after. “We’ve been over this, Y/N. Your father sold you and your family out for cash. If anything, you should be fucking grateful I even let you live.”

“Grateful?” You repeat in disbelief, a half hearted chuckle escaping your lips. Maybe it was because Katsuki let you take another life, maybe your parents' spirits are coming through, or maybe you’re just so fed up with him, but a sudden burst of confidence runs through you.

You stand up, strolling over to the man before you. His jaw is clenching as he examines each cowardly step you take towards him. You glare up to the man before you, quivering before his mighty presence.

“You killed my family, Katsuki,” you repeat through gritted teeth and clenched fists, “I’ll never forgive you for that.”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki challenged, his profound amused smirk appearing. The look in your glossy irises said all the words you didn’t have the courage to speak. “Good thing I really don’t give a fuck about your forgiveness, princess.”

Katsuki’s words soaked into your veins like venom. His smug looks always made you want to beat it off of him. Ever since you have met him. You both know you have no match against him. He will always win. Always.

You have been stuck with him since you were fifteen years old. You two never had any relationship or any sexual conduct until you were the legal age of eighteen. You would be lying if you said you didn’t fall for him over the years. He is all you know and Katsuki grew to like you over the years. Though he trained you to be the woman he wants you to be for him, you do throw a tantrum or two when needed.

“I hate you.” You sniveled.

“Sure you do. Let’s clean up that pretty face of yours so I can stuff it, eh?” Katsuki chuckled, cupping your chin with one hand so he can wipe your nose with a handkerchief with the other. You attempted to break loose of his firm grasp, but the male was not even phased.

“I don’t want your dick anywhere near me.” You admit allowed, still keeping the same angry tone within your words.

Katsuki arched his eyebrow, releasing your face from his grip and discarding the used cloth into the waste bin. “Considering the show you put on out there tonight, you’re lucky I’m not doing worse to you. I can always make that pretty ass of yours bruised too if you’d like?”

You immediately shake your head no. Your bottom is still a bit sore from two weeks ago when Katsuki put you over his knee. You are just now able to sit normal again. You do not need to go back to that.

“No, sir.” You stutter out, backing away from him and putting your hands behind your back. Katsuki is already pouring himself some whiskey into a whiskey glass that you make sure is always waiting on his dresser. He always enjoys a good drink after a long mission.

You take his black suit jacket off of him like expected and lay it on the dirty laundry hamper. Katsuki is already sitting on the bed, sipping on his alcoholic beverage, waiting for you to get to work. Kneeling before him, you begin unzipping his slacks and tugging down his underwear to reveal his erected cock. You take a moment to contemplate your future actions. You really did not want his dick in your mouth, but like Katsuki said before, you do not have a choice in the matter.

Your train of thought is derailed when Katsuki tugs on your hair. “Isn’t going to suck itself, brat. Get to work.”

Mentally groaning, your tongue swipes his length before placing kisses on the tip. Slowly, you begin taking in inch—by—inch. Saliva slid down his cock by the time you had it in your throat. Choking noises fed Katsuki’s already inflated ego.

“Can’t talk much with my cock down your throat, huh?” He teased, taking another sip of his whiskey. “For someone who claimed they didn’t want my cock to begin with, you sure are deep throating it rather quickly.”

You ignored his usual insults as you came up for air. You let out small coughs then go in for more, every vein being pleased with your tongue as you take it all in. Katsuki groans in pleasure as you pick up the speed. His cock is coated in your saliva as you did not slow down once to catch air. It wasn’t worth the ego boost he would feel from knowing he is too big for you.

Katsuki’s whiskey went unfinished as he could not focus on drinking it. Cum soon fills your hollow cheeks and down your throat as he releases into you. Not a drop was missed as you milked his cock. You were rewarded with a head pat.

“On the bed,” Katsuki instructs, “all fours.”

“Do I have to?” You whine. Katsuki vigorously grabs your chin, staring down into you. The room is dark, but his crimson eyes seemed to glow.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get on this fucking bed and shut your Goddamn mouth.” Katsuki hisses, sending chills down your spine. You do as you are told like he taught you. Arching your back, your ass is now in his perfect viewing. Katsuki’s clothes discarded to the hardwood floor below, his dick already erected at the sight of you.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Katsuki asked, rhetorically. He spreads you open more for his personal view. “Yeah, that’s it.” He comments, overviewing all of you. One of his hands stroked his cock while the other pressed on your begging clit. You let out a soft moan, hoping he didn’t hear.

Placing his hands on your hips, he drags you closer to him. Leveling you with his cock, the tip slowly slips into your entrance then proceeding to pick up full speed. Your cunt swallows all of him, hugging his cock with each rhythmic thrust. You can feel your tight walls get stretched by his girth with each entry he makes, not even giving you time to get used to his size as he exits to repeat the same process. No matter how many times you two have sex, you will never get used to Katsuki’s length and size.

“Katsuki—“ You sob in pleasure and in pain.

“Shut it, slut. You’re going to take all of my fucking cock and like it. I’m going to fuck the brat out of you tonight.” Katsuki demands, pressing down on your spine so your ass is more perked up for him to smack periodically. Your cries and moans are muffled into the European satin sheets below. You grip onto them for support as Katsuki does not slow down once.

Your pussy pulsates with each thrust. It was about to give out on you and cum all over his cock. Though you did not want to give him the satisfaction, your cunt had other plans as it became tighter around Katsuki’s length.

“Aw, is someone going to cum?” Katsuki coo’s condescendingly, beginning to go agonizingly slow.

You lift your head to beg for sweet release. “Please let me cum, sir. Pretty please. I need to oh so badly.” You sobbed. His silence made your insides do flips. His slow strokes did not once stop and his nails dug into your thighs.

“No.” Katsuki finally denies as he knows you cannot take anymore. You gasp, your heart stopping for a split second.

“Katsuki, please.” You hiccuped. “I really need to.”

“Should’ve thought about that before throwing a tantrum today. Good girls get to cum.” Katsuki shrugged, using his long muscular arm to push your head back into the mattress. “Now shut the hell up while I fuck you senseless.”

Just like Katsuki stated, he fucked you until his high was met. Of course, he did not make it easy as he was about to bust, he would go slower to edge himself. He wanted this to be a punishment to remember. The whole time, you behaved and did not cum. No matter how many times Katsuki tried to get you to slip, you refused.

“C’mon and cum, brat. Y’know you wanna.” Katsuki would tease with immaturity. All you could say was incoherent “no thank you’s.” A soft rub on your ass was telling you that you passed his test.

Countless minutes, maybe even hours, have passed until Katsuki decided he was ready to release himself. “You can cum now.” He finally grants. You did not get to even process his words as your pussy released onto his cock. Babbles of pleasure and gratitude escaped from your lips.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki praises, his cock now removed from you. You whine at the hollowness you felt.

“Lay on your back.” He instructs, doing his best to keep it together. You follow his request and switch over to your back. “Play with your tits.”

Your fingers grab onto your sensitive nipples, swirling on them before giving them a nice little pinch. Katsuki stood over you, stroking his cock that is covered in his pre-cum.

“Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” Katsuki praised once more, analyzing your lewd faces as your fingers played with your breast.

“Mm, cover me with your cum.” You encouraged, rubbing your thighs together and pushing your breast closer to one another. Katsuki became feral as cum squirted onto your chest and stomach. Just the sight of you is making Katsuki forget today ever happened.

Just like always, baby eyes.

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[april-avenue-archiving]

I LOVED YOUR ANGST WRITING, ITS AMAZING!!!! So, I was thinking about a 2nd part where the characters after their lover's death, becomes a dark person, without emotions or any mercy with their enemies. They changed, but so much worse

Ahhh thank you so much my love! It was my first time writing angst so I’m so glad you liked it. I really like this concept

Part 1 here Part 3

This contains: Mentions of death, ptsd, angst, heavy alcoholism, mentions of blood

Xiao ☆〜

He fought and conquered demons, took lives with his own two hands. But you dying in them absolutely broke him.

He’d never seen himself as a monster for killing. He thought that if you killed what was necessary it would take away the weight and pain behind it. Always having good intentions behind it, always thought of it as protecting you. But not anymore. He kills to see blood now. He kills to see the limp lifeless body on the ground, using it to replace the image of yours. Weapons sharp enough to cut through bone rested on his back. His dark demeanor would have scared you. He could hear your voice say ‘This isn't you! Please stop!’. Ignoring the voice, his cold eyes stalked his next target, creating an ambush plan just like they did to you. Using you as a vessel for anger. He climbs to higher ground and plunges into the enemy camp destroying everything in his way.

Zhongli ☆〜

Zhongli always kept his vision use to a minimum. He knew the power he held and the responsibility that came with. Contracts required rules that needed to be followed. You praised him and told him how proud you were that he cared about people so much. You told him about your childhood and how it took you a while to reach that level of mastery. Telling him how you accidentally froze a squirrel once trying to use your elemental.

He lost his senses. He lost his little voice of reason. No light at the end of the tunnel. All that plays in his mind are your screams. He uses his power freely now. No morals and no limits. Destroying mountains and whole villages, he crushes good and bad. No empathy left in him because others had no empathy for you.

He knew if you saw him now you would be so disappointed.

Diluc ☆〜

Diluc always carried responsabilites. Responsibilities that would drive any normal person insane. Running a successful business, planning safe routes for his missions and protecting Mondstadt as the Darknight hero.

His tasks, jobs and mediocre operations all seemed pointless now. Why would he want to run a bar if you weren't going to be there to taste and enjoy his latest brew? Why would he want protect a city you weren't in? Why would he want to fight if you weren’t going to be there next to him, fighting with a fierce glint in your eye that said ‘let’s do this together’? Why would he want to plan journeys if you weren’t going to loom over his shoulder while he studied the maps and asked ‘why don't we take this route. I heard there are beautiful waterfalls’ or ‘come on live a little! There's a pack of hilichrils just up the mountain, let's go!’.

He was unmotivated to work. Unsatisfied even with piles of empty wine bottles thrown around his house. The bottles seemed to scream at him to do something with his life. Maps upon maps posted on his walls, marked with journeys you planned together. But most of all he was angry. Angry he couldn’t save you. Angry he failed to protect you.

Thoma ☆〜

Thoma had a habit of avoiding conflict. Never hurting anyone who he didn’t need to. And you respected even admired that about him. You appreciated his love of peace and stability. Loved the way he would take mediocre household tasks and made them into fun games so you wouldn’t get bored.

He especially avoided using his elemental. He knew once the fire started it couldn’t be stopped. And just like fire he never stopped. The water that put his fire out was gone.

He swung his weapon at anyone and anything that came between him. Hostile or not it would be ashes within seconds. Burning whole forests just to smoke a single enemy out. With no sense of consequence he continued to cause pain. He just wanted to see the world burn.

[nightwishesworld]

Life of Death

You’re gonna need tissues for this one folks! A huge thank you to @addictedtodinosaurs for allowing me to write this wonderful headcannon! Hope you guys enjoy!

Warning: Angst. Whole lot of angst 

It hasn’t even been a day since Alcina’s world collapsed. Ethan Winters managed to flee Castle Dimitrescu with his life and topple the hierarchy Mother Miranda worked so hard to achieve. Everyone is gone; Angie, Moreau's house, Mother Miranda, even her baby brother Karl. They never stood a chance after the fall of the great Mother Miranda. Without her protection, they were left helpless. Of course, Ethan only saw them all as monsters; filthy bloodthirsty creatures that needed to be slain. That’s all anyone ever saw them as. They’re different so that must mean they’re wrong. They’re abnormally different from anything I’d ever seen so that automatically means they’re evil.

But they’re still a family. Lucky for Alcina, she never let herself depend on anyone other than herself. Well, except for her daughters.

She was wandering around the ruins of the castle in search of them. They were nowhere to be found since Ethan escaped. It was a grueling task but obviously, one that needed to be done. They need their mother’s tender love and care to nurse them back to health.

Cassandra was the first to be found. Naturally, she was found within the comfort of her basement. Where else would that silly girl be hiding? Just like Daniela, her bleeding seemed to have majorly stopped on its own. So all that was left for Alcina to do was bathe her and bandage her wounds. Alcina carried her upstairs to her bedroom slowly and carefully to not make her feel any sicker to her stomach. From there she bathed her and wrapped whatever wounds she had in delicate cloth before putting her to rest in her bed. Alcina tousled her wet hair before leaving in search of the rest of her brood.

Daniela was the easiest to find. She was left lying face down in the parlor soaked in a pool of her own blood. Her body was riddled with bullet holes to the point where her abdomen resembled Swiss Cheese. Alcina was quick to scoop her up and bring her upstairs to tend to her wounds. Until she got Daniela in the bath she used the ends of her dress to put pressure on her abdomen. Just like Cassandra, her bleeding seemed to have majorly stopped on its own. So all that was left for Alcina to do was bathe her and bandage her wounds.

Picking each individual bullet out of her body was an uphill battle, but Alcina was the eventual victor. Even better, she managed to not disturb her youngest’s slumber as she patched her up. Daniela was now free to rest as much as she needed in the sanctuary of her mother’s bed.

“What a mess we’re left with, hm? Don’t you worry about a thing my little Tasmanian Devil, Mother’s here now. I’ll protect you.”

The girls remained motionless as Alcina tucked Daniela in next to her sister.

Alcina watched as her little bundles of joy rested comfortably under the warm blankets and plush pillows. They look so sweet and at peace. It was rare for the matriarch to see them like this, but it always brought a smile to her face.

“You just rest now, my lovelies. I’m going to go find your sister so she can rest easy as well.” Alcina bends down and kisses each daughter on the forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

It took a few hours of searching to find her eldest daughter. Doing countless laps around the castle finally brought Alcina to explore the labyrinth of hidden passageways. There were a few times when said passageways brought her right back up to her bedroom. She wasn’t complaining too much though. Every time it happened she simply checked on her girls and reminded them how much she loves them.

Bela was by far the hardest to find. The sounds of scurrying behind a row of bookcases alerted Alcina to her presence. Following a single passageway eventually led Alcina to find the blonde buried from the chest down in rubble. The tunnel had collapsed from then on.

Alcina made quick work of removing the rock and rubble from her daughter's body. Rats fled back into their holes as she did so. The eldest Dimitrescu never moved even an inch. It took a while, but Alcina did manage to get her out in one piece. She whispered promises of a warm bath and offered to deep clean the dirt and dust out of her hair.

Bela couldn’t respond but Alcina knew she heard her. She could still sense her. She could sense all of them. They’re just weak, that’s all. They need as much rest as they can get.

It’s late evening by the time all three girls are bathed and tucked into bed. They were dressed in clean clothes and had their bandages changed again before Alcina crawled carefully into bed with them. She made sure to be extra careful when nudging them out of the way so she was in the middle; Bela on one side and Cassandra and Daniela on the other. Her arms wrapped around them all snugly.

It reminds Alcina of all the times the girls would burst into her room when they were little during a thunderstorm. All four of them would cuddle up just like this under the covers and either sing to them or read them a story.

“Tomorrow is a new day, my loves. We will start anew and we’ll be stronger than ever. I hope you sleep peacefully.”

The next morning comes slowly for Alcina. It’s quiet for once as the girls aren’t awake to cause mischief. Aching in her back and arms keeps her from stretching out. She smiled when she feels the girls are still snuggled up close to her.

“Good morning my darlings,” she says with a yawn. “How are we feeling today?”

Alcina kisses each daughter on the cheek and chooses not to notice how much more pale they were this morning. And certainly doesn’t recognize how stiff they were. She simply chalks it up to sleeping uncomfortably. After all, even she woke up with an aching back. Her arms wrapped around them must have really bothered them.

“It’s alright, girls. Take all the time you need to recover. You’ve been through quite the ordeal and need as much rest as you can get. I understand that. Mommy will be waiting for you right here to wake up. I’ll be the first thing you see when you open your bleary little eyes.”

The family lounged for the better half of the morning. Alcina takes her time stroking the hair of each of her girls’ hair and whispers words of comfort to them. “You’re so brave, my loves. And so strong; stronger than Mommy could ever hope to be.”

She notices a rather putrid smell coming from Daniela. One not caused by uncleanliness or a rotten meal, but something else entirely. Her immediate response is to change her bandages again, but can’t help but notice how pale Daniela had become overnight. Her lips were turning a shade of blue and the rest of her skin looked sickly. So did Cassandra and Daniela. Perhaps this is worse than simply recovering from injuries? Maybe....maybe they really were-

Alcina shook her head. They’ll wake up. Of course, they’ll wake up! They just need to rest extra long before they can really start to recover. So what if they get worse before they get better? At the end of the day, all that matters is that they do wake up. Then it’s smooth sailing from there.

The silence is suffocating. She feels the chill in her blood, coldness bringing the synapses of her brain to a standstill. Part of it is a pain, but one Alcina can endure. One she has to endure; for the sake of her daughters.

While she waited, Alcina called for a maid, the only one left, to fetch some documents from her private study that needed her attention.

They didn’t actually need her attention, of course. With the demise of Mother Miranda, the document's importance was nullified. But Alcina Dimitrescu is not the type of person to just sit around and do nothing. Especially when there are so many important things to do.

As soon as the maid steps into the room she understands what’s happening. She went through something strikingly similar when she had her miscarriage some years ago. Reality is a cruel plane of existence. Especially when you lose someone you loved suffering it with. It’s plain to see that her mistress is grieving her losses and she doesn’t have the heart to break whatever fantasies Lady Dimitrescu has built-in her head.

Instead, she chooses to play along. Delusional or not this was still Lady Dimitrescu, the woman will kill her if she tells her anything other than what she wants to hear. She gives a kind smile and curtsy to her Mistress and simply dies as she’s asked.

“Shall I fetch you some wine, My Lady?”

Alcina thought about it for a moment. It has been over 24 hours since she last fed and she was certainly craving sustenance. But ultimately decides against it in favor of her daughters.

“No. Keep what we have left safe for when my daughters wake. They’ll need their strength more than I’ll need mine.”

The maid waits a minute before trying again. She looks over at the girls still laying in bed. It’s obvious they are no longer there. She could smell the evidence of that from across the room.

“Very well, Lady Dimitrescu. I could send up a platter of-“

“Enough,” Alcina shouts but quickly catches herself from continuing. The girls don’t need to be disturbed by such a trivial matter. “Go make yourself useful and clean my daughters’ rooms. They’ll want them spotless when they wake up.”

The maid simply bows her head. “Of course, my Lady. Please forgive me.”

The next two weeks went on like this before the maid had enough. She wanted to help her mistress, she truly did, but there was nothing left for her here anymore. The last scraps of human food were officially gone and there was no reason to trek down to the village and come all the way back when she could just as easily take up residence down there. It was a gut-wrenching decision but it had to be done. She tried her best for Lady Dimitrescu and that’s all that mattered.

She slipped away in the dead of night. Normally the Lady would have any escapees hunted down and dragged back up to the castle only to be thrown in the basement. But there was no one to do that anymore. Heisenberg and his pack of lycans had perished long ago, even before the Lady’s daughters, and the Lady was too drained of emotions to care. Too weak to chase after her.

Alcina’s daughters are her everything. Every day she lived for them. She lived because of them.

Alcina took great pride in her tall stature. She is the image of beauty and elegance. The only real flaw in her design is its role in hunting down prey. You’d have to be blind or stupid to not see her coming after you. Even with her much larger strides, she wouldn’t be able to keep up. And Alcina Dimitrescu does not run. Prey is not worth running for.

So she depends on her daughters to hunt for her. They’re much more suited for the job; so young, and clever, and agile. They are her cubs and her, their lioness, too old to keep up with the hunting party.

Alcina looks at her girls and sees them as they truly are; dead. Lifeless corpses. Their bodies are decaying and cold. She has been changing the bed sheets every morning to keep away the maggots but failed to stop all of them. The smell of death is noxious even with all the windows open because Bela said she wanted to feel the crisp winter breeze.

“My girls,” Alcina sobs. “What have I done to you?”

She collapses at their bedside and finally allows herself to break down.

But looking up at them she still feels them. She can still feel their arms wrap around her shoulders as she cries. The smell of paint is still on Cassandra’s cloak and Daniela was sitting on the floor right next to her. The short ends of red hair tickled Alcina’s cheek. If they were truly gone, how is it she can still feel Bela kiss the top of her head and wrap her arms around her neck in an embrace?

“I never should have done this. How can I be so selfish? I never should have turned you to suffer as I have.” A new wave of tears blurred her vision. “What kind of mother am I?”

She knows she doesn’t have long now. How can she bring herself to care? Everyone she ever cared about was already gone. What’s the point of trying to survive without her dearest family, especially when she’s so close to being reunited. Alcina wiggles her way back under the covers and pulls her daughters close once more. She’s crying in earnest now, happy that her pain is almost over. Even now she can see her daughters playing together, maybe even with Uncle Karl somewhere in the far off distance.

A smile spreads to Alcina’s lips as she closes her eyes and simply waits for her turn to join in on the fun.

[hewhofightsbythesword]

scotch or irish? tommy shelby x reader

warning/s: underage drinking, swearing, violence, and slight smut

 inspired by disco pigs (2001) 

A/N: I was really high when I came up this idea. Even wrote it while I was high, but I couldn’t find it the next mirning. Wasn’t sure if I really wrote it or if it was a dream. Either way, it’s here lol After like two weeks. Sowwyy 

Tommy and y/n. y/n and Tommy. For as long as the pair can remember, that’s the way it has always been. Born only a few months apart, the two created an instant bond so strong that Aunt Polly said it would transcend through many lifetimes. And of course, Aunt Polly was never wrong in the matters of the heart. This was a friendship full of heart, romantic and platonic love for there was not one without the rest. Tommy’s mother would say to Polly, “That boy... it’s his cleverness that’ll kill him.” Martha found herself confiding in her more, so she continued, “As long as Tommy and y/n have each other... I am not worried.” And everyone knew. Everyone except Tommy and y/n.

The two had very similar minds. What one was thinking, the other was already mentally processing and vice versa. It would be almost adorable if it wasn’t so weird, as Arthur Sr. would call it. It was only weird because they were so smart. Against everybody else (even Polly at times, although she would never admit it), they were always two steps ahead.

From a young age the two understood their natural connection. For example, at the age of seven, Tommy and y/n planned to swear a vow of silence together that was planned to last a total of ten days. At first, y/n was met with slight worry from Tommy.

“We need code names! What should I call you if I need you?”

“You won’t have to need me, silly. That’s the whole point! I will already know, and so will you.” The logic was missing. They were both aware of this but none cared.

The goal was set for ten days. Not a single word was uttered between the kids or anyone else for that matter, aggravating the living hell out of those around them, especially Arthur who would’ve done anything to be a part of the joke. However, by day five, y/n broke the vow, rushing her feet as fast as they allowed a few houses down on Watery Lane.

That day she had heard a few of the older Lee boys, around Arthur’s age, speaking down on the Gypsy Shelby’s. y/n just had to tell Tommy or she was sure she would burst. It was also on day five Tommy came to two realizations: (1) He too would break their vow of silence. There was nothing worth doing if it meant he couldn’t do it with the person who understood him the most. (2) Tommy decided that same day that y/n, in her own right, was a Shelby too.

“Shelby,” he whispers to himself, only for him to hear.

At age 15, y/n was able to convince Tommy to steal a bottle of whiskey from the local pub. Her little hands shoved a piece of a paper with instructions in his direction. “Meet me here,” was all she told him with big eyes before he could even get a word in, running back to whatever held her short attention span. Unfolding the paper, Tommy could see a drawn out map of where to find the only girl who could keep young Tommy on his toes.

If anyone asked him, he would tell them all this was something he had to do. Many nights Arthur and Tommy had to go in all hours of the night looking for their father in pubs. One night in a drunken haze, Arthur Sr. takes his second born by the shoulders, causing him to be dragged onto the floor next to his father. He takes his boy by the face, shaking it a few times to show how serious he was trying to be.

“A man is meant to provide, always. Be a man, Thomas.”

y/n asked and Tommy planned to provide.

Seeing the large “X” marking the destination, it matched the location right before Tommy’s eyes. It was a beautiful far away, empty place from Watery Lane with lots of surrounding nature. It had just finished raining. y/n always did like the way the rain made the earth smell.

She notices her friend right away and runs up to him. y/n takes him by the hand. “I found my favorite tree here. Come on,” she says very nonchalantly.

Tommy shakes his head behind her. “Of course you did, Shelby. Of course you did.”

y/n often thought the world moved too slow for her liking. She always liked to be out and about. Always wild, never to be tamed. She figures that’s why she likes the Shelby’s so much. She was blessed to find a family early in her life that matched her soul. Except, she knows why she likes Tommy so much. He liked to be wild too. He moved just as fast as y/n, and he thought just as fast as her. So there was no doubt in her mind once she tasked her best friend with the alcohol that he'd deliver.

“I just took the first one I saw and ran like hell.” He presents y/n the bottle.

“Scotch whiskey,” y/n reads the label out loud before opening it. Tommy at this point began to see the trouble that she carried within her starting to stir. Confirming this intuitive feeling, y/n goes to make a quick toast like the kind she has seen her father make with Tommy’s. “To your Aunt Pol who would kill you if she ever knew, Thomas Shelby,” she groans out as she takes the first large swing with the most confidence. Even from when they were children, Tommy always wondered how so much confidence could fit in such a small body.

He takes the bottle from her to mimic her actions. “To my Aunt Polly who will find out by the week’s end.” They both laugh before Tommy takes his sip, but when he does, he takes it differently than y/n. “What the fuck, y/n. How can you even drink that shit?” He spits and coughs as he attempts to recover.

“What? I like it.” She shrugs while going for another.

At age 18, Tommy realized he loved y/n. By the time Tommy turned eighteen, it came to no surprise to anyone that he was already turning out to be a ladies man. Girls turning into young women were quick to notice his dark hair and hypnotic blue eyes. He was different than any of the factory worker boys that took after their fathers. He was ambitious. He wanted more to life than what dirty old Birmingham could offer, and the young women knew this so in some way, it even made it seem okay that his last name was Shelby. Almost as if Tommy was being pardoned for being a Shelby. And he hated that feeling.

y/n never made Tommy feel that way. She was always the first and the last one to defend her friend since birth. Crowned by Tommy all those years ago, she was Shelby. What else could have made her break her vow with Tommy all those years ago? Tommy didn’t realize exactly what he was realizing at the time. How could he? They were kids being kids. He couldn’t have known it was loyalty. If it wasn’t clear to Tommy then, it was now.

“You need to get out of here. Go get Arthur and John. This is no place for a woman,” Tommy warns y/n one night out, sensing trouble.

The two found themselves cornered by a group of boys around their age. The Peaky Blinders were gaining respect, notoriety, and fear from those around them. Things were changing for the Shelby’s, but not everyone agreed. Most certainly not the three boys looking for a fight. “Run!”

“No!” She hisses back. She tightens her fist and holds them up.

“There is no fucking way I’m letting you do this.”

“Either I leave to get the boys and we come back to your half-dead body, if we’re lucky or I stay and fight and we may actually win this.” Truth be told, y/n wished she could listen to Tommy and go get his brothers. But more than the fear she felt for herself, it was tenfold for Tommy.

“Damn you, Shelby.” he tells her as the fight breaks out.

No words were exchanged on the walk to The Garrison. It seemed like all of the day’s events were forcing Tommy to think about the vow they made when they were seven. Only this time, Tommy could see the logic she proposed. He did know what she was thinking because he was so sure she was thinking the same as him.

“Whiskey, Harry,” was all Tommy said, not bothering to spare the man a glance. y/n goes to sit at a table like they always do but was stopped by Tommy. He latches onto her hand, careful with the cuts and bruises that were beginning to form. “No,” he tells her, “We’ll be in the snug.” And no one protested. They may have wanted to but at the sight of blood on their clothes and on his razor blade, no one dared to speak out against the Blinder.

Not long after Harry delivers two glasses of whiskey through the snug’s window. “Give the toast, Shelby,” he gives the cup to y/n.

Her eyes never leave his. Even with exhaustion hijacking them, y/n could not name a more beautiful sight. “To you, Tommy. To the best and worst pal in the world.”

In his state of shock, Tommy failed to clink their glasses together, so y/n did it. The sound pulls him out of his own swirling thoughts, and they down their drink in an instant. Like the siamese twins they are, a look of disgust and twinge of horror overtake their faces.

“Scotch.”

“Irish.”

They both spit out like venom but were quick to laugh it off. “You gave me the wrong cup, Thomas!”

“Hey, come on now. I’m still Tommy. I’m just a bloody idiot for not knowing the difference.”

Only a few moments later, the laughing winds down a bit. The atmosphere still remains light only to be shattered. “Why don’t you love me?” He blurts out to y/n. “Like the way I love you?”

y/n’s content smile never falters. “I believe you have been too busy to notice me, Tommy. I’ve been right here. Because if you would have just asked, I would’ve said I loved you too. And I do... love you too.”

He smiles at her. “The best and worst pal in the world.”

y/n could feel her heart begin to hammer against her chest. She no longer felt like she was sitting down but floating. With the adrenaline from the fight gone, she should have been able to feel her wounds mark their place on her skin. But that’s not true. All she could feel was a warm, tight feeling in her chest. The boy she loved, loved her back. And no amount of irish whiskey could ever compare.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my whole heart.”

Tommy’s eyes searched y/n’s for any trace of hesitance or fraud but found none. All he could see were the eyes of the girl he loved the most. And most importantly, the girl loved him back.

He stands up to speak to Harry through the snug’s window and comes back shortly after. “Come here, Shelby.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to kiss the only girl in all of Small Heath that I love.” At that, y/n had no protests.

Their kiss was nothing less of what the two expected. It wasn't awkward. Nerve wracking, sure, but not awkward. Many nights y/n dreamt about this very moment. She dreamt how Tommy’s lips would feel against hers. She often wondered what kind of lover he was. And now she knows, leaving her with no more thoughts to wonder about.

She is the first one to pull away. “I have loved you since we were seven and you called me “Shelby” for the first time.” She places desperate kisses onto his lips, cheeks, and neck. Anywhere they would fall, really, leaving traces of pure love behind.

Tommy feels like he is starting to lose control once her pillow soft lips attack his neck. “Tell me again, y/n. Let me hear you.”

“I love you,” She reminds him in between her kisses.

“Shelby... if you keep doing that, I’m not sure how much gentleman will be left in me.”

She looks up from the spot on his neck she was loving on, having found his sweet spot. “This one? Right here?” She asks, feigning innocence as she lightly bites down. When she hears his soft moan, her tongue laps at the spot relieving it only to finish off with a few kisses.

Before the last one can even land, Tommy’s hand finds her neck to take control once more. He doesn’t squeeze nor does he have a rough hold. He merely wraps his fingers around the neck he will one day dress in the biggest jewels. Tommy guides y/n to the edge of the table and pushes her to lay on it.

“Here, Tommy?” She giggles watching her best friends crawl on top of her

He shushes her with more wet kisses. “No one will come in. It’s just me and you.” His hands caress, squeeze, and tease whatever he can.

“It’s yours, Tommy, my heart. It’s all yours.”

He wraps his hand under her hair that was sprawled over the table into a makeshift ponytail. “Mine,” he proves when he finally feels all of her. His eyes never hers, wanting to sear the memory of the exact moment she became his. Pain overtakes her face but her hands on his lower back right above his ass lets him know she was okay. After a while, y/n signals Tommy to start moving once more and pain starts to transform into a pleasure y/n never thought was possible.

All the sounds the two were making were sure to be drowned out by the ruckus made by the drunk men just outside the snug. Tommy was sure to tell Harry that no one else was allowed in under any circumstances. In his moment of euphoria, Tommy was ready to wet his razor blade for the second time that night should anyone dare barge in and take a look at what belonged to him.

This wasn’t Tommy’s first time but it was the first time he realized all what sex could be. All the men in his life were wrong. He was wrong. It didn’t have to be all what they said it should. All he ever needed was y/n. Now that he had her, he had no intention of ever letting go.

Basking in the momentary afterglow of his best orgasm, he says, “You know what, Shelby? I don’t think I mind scotch whiskey all that much anymore,” his thumb traces y/n lower lip, even getting it slightly moist, “Not when the taste comes from your lips. My lips.”

[letarasstuff]

After a life long Quarantine

(A/N): This was requested by an anon. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing

Summary: How will Matthew's daughter, a so called covid baby, react to seeing real humans aside from her father for the first time?

Wordcount: 1.5k

✨Masterlist✨

_______________________________

Of course there is not a perfect time to have children. You never are going to be completely prepared. There is always something you’ll worry about. Are you going to be a good parent? Is your child going to be healthy? Are you financially stable enough?

All these and more questions flew through Matthew’s head constantly. But before the baby was due to arrive, the world got a little bit more crazy. Stores had to close, masks help you not kill your neighbor and it feels like breathing air could be the reason you die within the next two weeks. In other words: Covid-19 hit and everything kind of went into saving mode.

Subjectively for Matthew having a baby in the middle of a pandemic is the worst time ever. Shortly after going into lockdown the little (Y/N) was born. He was lucky to be able to come with his back then girlfriend into the hospital, he narrowly missed the restriction.

Sadly for the small family (Y/N)’s mother didn’t feel ready to take care of her and just a few weeks after her birth she took her stuff and made a beeline for a carefree life without responsibilities.

For Matthew it was a banger and he had to get used to a completely new day to day life. Still, he is very happy to have his daughter, his sunshine, with him. And secretly he is happy about the pandemic, because the freshly baked father is able to monitor any new progress or milestone (Y/N) has made in her development. He didn’t miss her first conscious smile, laugh or her first words (“Dada” of course, she is a daddy’s girl). The only thing he is concerned about for now will be the separation anxiety when he has to leave her for Kindergarten or work. But this is something Matthew can worry about later.

To be perfectly honest the only surroundings (Y/N) has seen yet is their apartment and the park. He tries to overlap her nap time with his grocery runs, so his daughter is asleep in her stroller while he picks up the things they need. It’s the easiest and most relaxing way without being separated.

Now, nearly a year after her birth, the whole situation slowly lets up. Stores reopen, people are back in the cities and everything seems a little brighter, a little happier. Travel restrictions are banned (still with safety precautions).

Since his baby’s birth he wasn’t able to see his parents in person. Of course they skyped and facetimes as often as possible, but they have yet to meet their grandchild. That’s why Matthew decided to take a roadtrip from New York City to Las Vegas.

His plan is to drive to Texas to visit Thomas and his family and to show his own child off. He knows that the car ride (to San Antonio 27 hours plus 18 to Las Vegas) is long. Luckily Matthew has enough time to plan this road trip and the plane ride back thoroughly and count enough breaks for him and his daughter. There are many fun activities, like visiting several zoos, a waterpark and a fair for example. He wants to show (Y/N) that there are many beautiful spots in the world she has yet to see.

That’s why he gets up at 4 a.m on a Tuesday, gets her and himself ready and is in the rental car at sharp 5 a.m. He wants to get a few miles done before eating lunch in a diner or something on the way, so the father tries to avoid traffic jams, hence the early start.

Luckily (Y/N) falls back asleep as soon as the car starts and doesn’t wake up before noon. “Daddy, I hungwy”, she pouts after jamming with him to several Disney songs he downloaded on a CD. A quick look to the clock confirms that it is in fact time for lunch. “Alright Baby, let Daddy find a nice place and we get food. What do you want?” “NUGGIES!” Matthew laughs and mutters to himself: “Well, that’s not exactly a surprise.”

Soon he finds a sweet diner off the highway and parks in front of it. With a few practised movements he gets (Y/N) out of her car seat and hoisted up on his hip. “You ready to get the little monster inside your tummy fed?” Matthew asks in a silly voice. Giggling she nods her head.

For lunch time the diner is relatively empty, not many tables are occupied. He finds both of them a small booth and sits her down on his lap for the moment. Only now the father spots the amazed look on his daughter’s face. “What is it, Honey?” “Who they?” She points at the various people in the establishment.

Quickly he puts her finger down, muttering how rude it is to point at someone. “They are humans, Baby.” “Omans? Wike us? More us?” Suddenly it hits him:

(Y/N) has never seen anybody else than him. All the other people she met were over the phone. How is she supposed to understand that they are real, too, when the ones on the TV aren’t?

“Yeah, there are many more. We are going to see so many of them. What do you think?” She seems to weigh her options as a nice looking waitress comes up to their table. “Hey Sweeties, what good can I do for you two? Do you need a high chair?” Matthew smiles at her. “Yes, please. We also are ready to order.”

After her departure to get their things, (Y/N) has come to a decision. “Nice all?” Her father nods. “Yes, most of them are as nice as the lady. We are going to see a really good friend of mine and his family, they are even nicer. There are also other kids. And we are going to visit your grandparents, they are also really nice. Are you excited?” An energetic nod is enough for him to know that this was the right decision.

On the next leg of the road trip (Y/N) is too excited to be quiet. She asks her father all sorts of questions. Has he met every human being? What are those, who aren’t nice? Does he like all of them? Are he and she nice people?

Happily he answers every single one of them, being as honest as possible. Matthew hopes that his daughter still turns out to be a people person like he is, even though she wasn’t exposed to many in her first months of life.

The first few days of their trip is pretty promising. They are now at Thomas’ house and especially Agatha is smitten by the little girl. Whenever Matthew is looking for her, both of them are in her room painting each other's nails (though the older one helps her out), playing hairdresser or watching a kids show.

The last 18 hours of the trip are tackled in two days. The main reason is that the little one got hooked on meeting new people and is way too hyped up to wait any longer to see her grandparents. So Matthew cancels a few plans and makes two out of three, he himself is also excited to meet up with his parents again.

“How wong?” (Y/N) asks from the backseat for what feels like the trillionth time. She already watched all of her favorite movies on her little tv in the headrest and due to the uneven street coloring isn’t an option. Luckily the destination is in sight. “Mhh, I think we are there in five minutes.” Children her age don’t have a sense for time yet, he knows that. Still, the father feels bad lying to her.

Finally they pull into the driveway, two people already waiting outside for them. After getting her out Matthew puts (Y/N) on his hip and makes his way over to his parents. “Baby, these are your grandma and grandpa. Can you say hello to them?”

But she tries to wiggle out of his grip, making the smiles on everybody’s faces fall. The father sets her down. Clumsily (Y/N) toddles over to them, colliding with her grandfather’s leg. “Hello, I love you!” She looks up at them sweetly. Her grandma has to restrain herself from letting the tears of happiness fall down.

“Hello there, Baby. We are so happy to finally meet you!” She says to the toddler, who now is in her grandfather’s arms.

It’s in this moment that Matthew decides his daughter is in fact a people person, which he is kind of relieved about, knowing that quarantine hasn’t taken anything from her.

His father shows him to join the group hug, being finally reunited as a family after all this time.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse

MGG:

@mggsprettygirl

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

One Too Many Times

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Former Damon Salvatore x Reader

Word Count: 2.6K (I COULDN”T KEEP IT UNDER AND IM NOT SORRY! Plus Heather said I have no rules so....)

Warnings: Angsty arguments, heart break, but that’s about it in this one. 

Author’s Note: Heres the second post for today! I hope you guys enjoy. This is for @idkhaylijah ‘s 3k Follower Celebration. Again I was waiting until the last minute to get this one done, but I figured lets use this to help kick off May Madness. I had selected Exile by Taylor swift along with the prompt: “How much of that did you hear?” Of course the prompt is in bold and the lyrics are italicized. Enjoy!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

Even though Damon had every reason to be there, it didn’t mean he wanted to be there. He didn’t want to have to deal with the people that he was going to have to see. He didn’t want to deal with the fact that he’d go to this party and he’d see her there. It wasn’t the fact that she’d be there that turned him off from going. It was the fact that she wasn’t going to be there on her own that made a twinge of pain and even jealousy pull at his heart. 

He knew how the night was going to play out. He was going to have to watch the woman he loved with someone else. He’d have to watch as she looked at another man with the stars in her eyes just as she had once done with him. The laughter that would be pulled from her lips wouldn’t be because of the things Damon had said. He wouldn’t be the one to cause the heat to build in her cheeks at the things he would whisper in her ear. 

The thoughts themselves had made him angry. He hadn’t even seen them yet and his blood was already bubbling away. And that itself was a warning that he should have stayed away. But Damon knew better. He knew he needed to be there. He needed to be there to mingle in with the party goers before they all put their well thought out plan into action. A plan to take down a witch who believed to be holding all the cards in his favor. That didn’t mean Damon had to enjoy it. 

I can see you standin', honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin' but the joke's not funny at all

Damon had found himself a spot in the back of the room that gave him a view of the whole room. His eyes scanning over the crowd of people every few minutes. Across the room, Stefan had found another spot, doing the same thing. Both of them keep their eyes out for anything that might ruin their plans. They were only a few hours into the night and so far there had been nothing that told them things were going to take a turn. It was as Damon brought his glass of bourbon up to his lips that his eyes landed on Y/N for the first time tonight. 

She looked stunning as she walked through the crowd and made her way towards the bar. His eyes were on her and her alone that he hadn’t even registered the man that was close behind her. At least that was until she came to a stop and his hand came to rest on the small of her back. 

He watched as she turned towards him, a smile on her face as they began speaking as if nothing was going on around them. That there was no lurking danger that would be thrown upon them. Y/N didn’t even know the plan that the Salvatores and the others had put together. She wanted out. She wanted to be as far away from the supernatural world as possible. 

That is where Y/N and Damon butted heads the most. She no longer wanted to be entangled in the world she had found herself with her friends and the Salvatores. For as many times as she had been almost killed in the process of saving Elena, she couldn’t handle it any more. 

She loved Damon. It was proven several times where she went out of her way just to prove that she was there for him and needed him to know that. It wasn’t until things started to change that Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She tried getting Damon to understand, but it seemed pointless. 

When Y/N said she was done with it all, Damon tried to fight to keep her there. He wanted her to stay but it had already been too late. While she still wanted the memories of everything, including the training she learned over the years, she just didn’t want to be a part of it any more. She wanted to be left alone without the fear that her association with the group would get her killed. And she left. 

There was nothing Damon could say or do to change her mind. He watched her from afar and always kept anything from happening to her. But this he couldn’t control, as much as he wanted to. She had been with the man beside her for a little over a month and Damon never bothered to remember his name. Even when he ‘bumped’ into them while out in the town, Y/N had introduced him and he didn’t care to listen. 

Just as he feared, Damon watched as Y/N’s head tossed back as she laughed. The laughter that filled the air had made him turn his head away for a moment. The amber liquid in his glass no longer appealing to him as he set it down beside him on the side table. He’d never understand how she had changed her mind so quickly. 

His jaw clenched as she looked up at them once more. He could see the way he was leaning into her as he spoke, the way a soft smile pulled at her lips at them. There was a voice inside of him that knew he should walk right over to them and easily pull his heart out. But he knew better. Having Y/N as a distant friend was better than nothing. And if he killed her date, he’d lose her completely. 

I can see you starin', honey

Like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

From the moment that Y/N had entered the house, Elena had stopped right in front of her. The woman’s brown eyes worried for Y/N before she pulled her over to the side. Y/n looked back over her shoulder at her date, giving a quick apology.  

“What is it?” Y/N asked the moment they were alone. 

“You should know what’s going on if you are going to be here.” Elena offered. Elena knew Y/N for so long that she was happy that the woman wanted nothing more to do with vampires. But even then Elena wanted her safe. 

“No.” Y/N said shaking her head quickly. “I don’t want or need to know. Ignorance is bliss and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Y/N-” Elena began before Y/N stopped her. 

“I don’t want to know.” Y/N shook her head. “There could be a target on my back and still wouldn’t want to know.”

Elena nodded her head a moment later. That allowed Y/N to go back to her date without another word on the subject. 

“I need a drink.” She said before making a beeline for the bar. Liam’s chuckle came from behind her before he began following her over. 

“What was that all about?” He asked as he placed his hand on the small of her back as he came to a stop beside her at the bar. 

“The usual girl talk.” She lied before she ordered a drink. Liam definitely needed to be dragged into things. Especially if she herself was trying to get out of it herself. 

Y/N felt that as long as they didn’t stick around for long, they’d be okay. That the two of them would leave the moment she felt that things might change. She could easily put it as if she was ready to leave the place. Anything to keep herself out of it and not a part of it at the same time. 

“While I may not know what girl talk entails, but there was that very obvious feeling that something was wrong.” Liam said as he removed his hand from her back and grabbed the drink that had been placed in front of him. “Your friends seem to care.”

She laughed. It wasn’t an authentic laugh as she looked over at him. “They do care. But sometimes friends grow apart and when that happens, it mostly feels like strangers.”

“And what of your ex?” He asked with a slight raise of his brow. “Because by the looks of things, he’s looked this way a few times.”

It was then that Y/N had looked around at her surroundings. She followed Liam’s line of sight that led straight to Damon. There was a moment where their eyes met briefly before he turned to look away.  She bit on the inside of her cheek as she took in the way he looked before he had. 

She hadn’t missed the way his jaw ticked. Or the way that his eyes had darkened as he looked at the two of them from across the room. She knew his eyes well enough to know when there was guilt and anger swarming within them. It was the way his fist had clenched at his sides as he turned his attention away from her. Yet, no matter how much she had believed what she was doing was the best, there was that part of her that still loved the vampire. 

But she knew that this was what she wanted. This was how she was going to survive.This was how she was going to live a long enough life without the fear of someone coming after her. 

Second, third, and hundredth chances

Balancin' on breaking branches

Those eyes add insult to injury

It was as Y/N had excused herself some time later that Damon managed to pull her to the side. The annoyed look on Y/N’s face had told Damon that she wasn’t looking forward to hearing anything that he had to say. But he needed to try something, anything to ensure that Y/N was safe. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said the moment they were alone. 

She laughed and shook her head. “Not be at the party that I’ve been invited to?”

“Elena told me she tried explaining things to you and you didn’t listen.” His voice was calm, but Y/N could easily begin to pick up the slight tones of anger within them. 

“You guys don’t get to tell me how I can live my life.” Her eyes met his. “We’ve done this, Damon. Time and time again. I would listen to what you and Stefan had to say about things and I still got hurt in the process.”

She wasn’t wrong and Damon knew that. For as many times as they had faced enemies with in the town, Y/N was end up in the crossfire. May it have been from attempting to keep Elena safe or even Damon. She hated that no matter how many times they believed they had won and could leave peacefully, it would never last. 

“You still need to be somewhere else before things go down. Go to his place or wherever it is that you feel like going, but just don’t be here.” It was the way that his eyes softened at his words that made a familiar feeling stir within Y/N’s chest. 

This was how he pulled her in. One moment she could be pissed at him for his actions and all he had to do was give her the look he was now and she’d begin to comply. Compulsion was never necessary with her. Not when she cared enough. 

Her head shook again. “The point of me doing this is to make sure that I am living the life that I want. Not going by things that you need or Elena needs. This is about me now. “

I think I've seen this film before

“You think you aren’t doing things.” Damon began. “But who do you think has been helping out to keep you safe? Who’s been the one to ensure you haven’t ended up dead twice since you decided to leave.”

“I never asked you to!” Her voice raised slightly as she shook her head. “If I am supposed to die, then let it happen. I needed to feel like my human self. I needed the space to be able to breathe again. I couldn’t do that any more. Why are you being so difficult about letting me go?”

Damon ran his hand along his face. “So I’m supposed to live with the fact that you would willingly die even if you were given a warning?”

“Yes.” She said as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You will live with it. Because I’m not changing my mind on this.”

“I can’t let you do that.” He hated the words but they were already out there. 

She chuckled. “Do you even hear yourself? This is the exact conversation that we’ve had plenty of times before. I can’t continue to do this when you only listen to what you want.”

“You know I listen-”

“Stop.” she cut him off. “You didn’t. I said and showed every reason why I no longer wanted to do this. Before the Mikaelsons, after the Travelers, I wanted an out. I wanted to feel like my life wasn’t in someone’s control. And yet at every turn when I felt that I should go and I would tell you, you gave me some kind of reason to stay and do it all over again.”

Damon tried to piece the things she was talking about together. Hazy memories would come to mind of their fights. And in the mix of them yelling at each other, there were the moments where Y/N had told Damon she was leaving. Each time he somehow convinced her to stay. But the hurt that was in her eyes remained until finally one day she left without telling anyone. 

He took a step towards her and she raised her hand up to stop him. He opened his mouth to say something, anything. They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment. A silent conversation between them. One that was familiar. One that was comfortable. At least that was until Y/N turned and looked away, tears beginning to fill her eyes as she took a step back.

“I still love you Damon.” She said after a moment before looking back at him. “But I can’t. I can’t keep this life.” That was the last thing she said before walking away from him. 

Damon stood there for a few moments after she walked away. His hand ran down his face once more. When he turned to leave, he stopped in his tracks at who was standing at the door. Caroline had her hands behind her back, a guilty look on her face. 

“How much of that did you hear?” He asked, slightly annoyed. 

“Most of us heard it from the party.” She said with a slight shrug. “Those of us that were vampires, at least. A particular human though, heard the end of it. Elena is compelling him so that when he gets back to Y/N, he won't remember the argument you two had.”

“Should have just let him go.” Damon said no longer looking at the blonde. 

Caroline sighed. “Believe it or not, she’s happier without us interfering in her life. If you care about her at all, you should let her go.”

Damon’s head snapped back towards her. There was disbelief on his face. Everyone else had simply agreed to let her go. After years of them being in her life, they were willing to throw it all away. 

Damon didn’t think it was possible to do it. And after numerous times of getting her to stay, this time he couldn’t do it. Damon knew that he had lost Y/N. 

And I didn't like the ending

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[merminns]

No regrets

Erwin Smith x Reader

❧ Request: Hii may i request...Erwin angst...when (S3 spoiler) Erwin march toward the 🐒 with the other soldier, instead of him tht went, it was the reader. Reader just cant make the humanity lost their commander so when he is distracting (idk something happened) reader just take their horse n march with the soldiers, (then do ur magic DETAILS like ur erwin stories✨✨) n levi also decide not to save us like in the s3....shshsh i know this lame :33

❧ Content/Warnings: platonic levi x reader, season 3 spoilers, angst, mentions of injuries and blood, reader dies in the end 

❧ Word count: 3k

❧ Notes: this is a repost from my old blog

Going back to shiganshina after all of these years was a huge deal. Especially after the glorious send-off you were given by the citizens of Wall Rose. You came back to reclaim Wall Maria after six long years, you’re taking back your land and defeating the titans that filled your hearts with terror, cause that’s what heroes do.

But in reality, it didn’t really feel that way to you. Instead of being the hero who’s facing their fear, you feel like a terrified child living in a nightmare.

You expected a fight with the titans, of course, you did. Taking back your land won’t come without a fight, without losses. And it’s not your first time facing titans.

You’ve been fighting them for years now, getting rid of them one after the other alongside your friends. Your records are filled with a decent number of kills and you are proud of it.

But this… this is different, you’ve never been in this situation before. You fought titans and you watched them kill your comrades in the worst ways imaginable, but never in your various years within the survey corps did you ever imagine that these monsters would show this tactical intelligence.

It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Titans are a nightmare on their own, with intelligence like that you’re surely done for.

When you came to shiganshina you expected a fight against the armored and the colossal, even the beast titan, but not a tactical war with pure titans that follow command, and most certainly not rocks killing your most skilled comrades and caging you against the wall.

Despite your fear, you felt a sarcastic chuckle slip past your lips. You’ve lived for years with nightmares of being eaten, and now you’re dying in a titan game of baseball, how pathetic.

Your eyes drifted to Erwin and Levi who were having a private conversation nearby as you tried to calm the panicking recruits. Erwin… your commander, your love, the man who never knew how to back down. He's not in the best physical state, but he just had to come along. He had to be here even though he knew he won't be able to fight.

Despite the fear eating at your heart, you kept your composure, that’s the least you owed your commander. After the recruits calmed down, you made your way to where Erwin and Levi stood. Their conversation halted as you stood in front of them, their eyes holding something unreadable in their depth.

"I'm hoping these looks mean you came up with a plan… " You spoke, your voice coming with the quiver you never hoped to show.

A moment of silence passed, a look shared between Erwin and Levi… if this meant anything then you weren’t about to hear good news. There was tension in the air as Erwin explained his plan to you. It was then that you understood the look in their eyes, you think a similar one can be seen in your eyes now.

It finally dawned on you that this is the end. There is no way out of this war alive. Erwin's plan had a single meaning; if you keep standing where you are, you'll be flattened by the rocks thrown at you by the beast, and if you fight back, you die. You'll have to give your lives so Levi could deal with the Beast Titan.

You always knew this day would come. A war with the titans can’t end without casualties. The survey corps numbers were always changing. These are all facts, but you had hoped it wouldn’t be like this.

The fear was eating at your insides, it’s impossible to face titans without it, but you knew ever since your very first day with the corps that you’ll have to be ready to give your life. You were ready to accept it… that is, until Erwin spoke up again.

"We'd have to ask these young people to give up their lives. You'd need the skills of a first-rate con man to come up with a reason that convincing, so I doubt any of them would charge forward unless I was leading the way."

His words are like a slap back to reality, it wasn’t just your life you were giving. All of your remaining comrades will have to give theirs too, including the commander. The survey corps are going to be wiped out in a crazy move of mass suicide. But it wasn’t only your lives that would have to be given, and all it took was one look in Erwin’s eyes to know where this was going.

"Which would mean I'd be the first to die, " Erwin said and you held your breath waiting for his next words "without ever learning… what was in that basement."

You knew it, you knew this was coming but it still hurt. Amid this chaos, you managed to forget the reason why Erwin insisted to be here in the first place.

'Oh, Erwin, if only you weren't so stubborn' The words were dancing on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t speak.

Of course, Erwin has dreams, he’s just as much of a human as everyone here. While most of the corps were fighting for freedom or revenge, Erwin was fighting for the truth, for evidence that his father’s death meant something.

The look of shock on Levi’s face came nowhere close to the pain you felt. You joined the scouts for a purpose, too. Your dream was freedom, you hoped to be free of the confinement and the terror that the existence of the titans brought. But, now that you think about it, you did get a taste of freedom.

You were free from the confinement of the walls on your horse, feeling the air rushing through your hair and over your skin every time you went out on an expedition.

You were free of terror every time you raised your swords to cut through the nape of a titan’s neck. Every time you brought a titan down you had a taste of the freedom you were chasing.

And the people who fought for revenge, didn’t they get that too? They killed titans, they felt the satisfaction of getting rid of the enemy who hurt them and their loved ones.

The only dream that was never given a chance was Erwin’s. How unfair could the world be to take away the only chance from the man who helped give almost every soldier in the scouts a taste of their dreams? No… he can’t die, not yet.  

You let Erwin give his speech. That’s one thing that no one else can do. Erwin is the only one who can convince the recruits, crying out in fear, to stand tall and fight back as they take their last breaths of the air filled with the smell of dust and death.

As Erwin and the recruits were absorbed in their final thoughts and the speech, you slightly pulled on Levi’s sleeve pulling him back several steps.

The first step of your plan came into action as you answered Levi’s questioning look with a whisper “I want you to distract him.”

“What?” Levi asked, the confusion only growing on his face.

“I want you to distract Erwin. He is giving his speech, I’ll lead the recruits to their death,” you say, your whole being pleading that Levi would agree to help you. He has to, this won’t work out without his help.

“But—”

“Levi, please. The scouts still need him, you know that!” you pause glancing back at Erwin to make sure he’s not listening “When it’s time to move, I want you to pull him aside, tell him it’s something important. It’ll only take a few seconds, then you can carry out your part of the plan and kill the beast.”

“And how do you plan to stop Erwin from following you?”

“I’ll take any extra horses with me, he won’t be able to help you kill the beast and his odm gear won’t do much for him to follow after me,” you held your breath, your eyes pleading. This has to work “Please! Just do me this final favor.”

A moment passed as Levi glanced at Erwin then back to you, his expression unreadable. It was obvious your sacrifice isn’t just for the sake of the corps. “...Fine, but you’ll have to be quick”

“I’ll do my best… Thank you, Levi” the smile that spread across your face was blinding. It held so much gratitude, a final thank you combined with a goodbye.

It didn’t take long for Erwin’s words to give everyone back their composure. You helped everyone fall in line as fast as possible. You are running out of time. The houses around you are almost flattened. You have to move forward, this has to work. You can’t fail this, it has to be meaningful, for you, for the recruits who’ll pay their lives with you, for the whole of humanity… and most importantly, for Erwin.

Everyone is on their horses but it’s not time to move yet. You let your eyes meet Levi’s for one last time giving him a slight nod, signaling for him that you’re ready as you settled on your horse.

Levi stopped Erwin from riding his horse beside you, telling him there’s something important that he has to know first and pulling him aside. He walked Erwin as far from you and the recruits as possible without making it seem suspicious.

Erwin followed urgently after Levi not even allowing you one last look at his face. But that was ok, you didn’t need to see his face, it was already burned to the back of your eyelids.

It all took a few seconds, once you saw Levi and Erwin start talking you took hold of Erwin’s horse and started screaming encouragements for the recruits to charge as you rushed forward. Erwin’s shock had him freeze for a couple of seconds and that was enough for you.

You charged forward with the recruits right after you. Levi waited for a few more seconds to make sure Erwin wouldn’t follow after you. When he was sure you were far enough he took off towards his target, leaving Erwin standing there alone his eyes wide in shock.

Your screams of encouragement were so loud, louder than Erwin ever heard them. They were loud enough that even though you were too far away for him to follow he could still hear your voice filled with determination.

You didn’t look back, there was no reason to. This is the right decision, this plan will work and Erwin will lead what’s left of the scouts to victory. Your life is a small price to pay, it’s nothing compared to the rest of the lives that were already lost.

You can see the beast drawing his hand back, getting ready to shower you with the next round of crushed boulders. Your yelling never stopped even though your throat was running sore from all the screaming.

You didn’t stop when the flares were shot, not when the rocks started showering the frontline lead by you. You didn’t stop when the rocks started growing larger in your vision, you hardly even saw them. All you could see was the future, a bright one without the titans and the fear and the pain. You could see the past, the best and the worst of it. All the memories that you shared with every single one of your comrades.

You kept yelling for everyone to rush forward as tears ran down your face. It’s going to be ok, you had all you ever needed. It was time for you to follow through the same path your fallen comrades walked.

Your screams were cut short when the first rock hit you, sharp pain running through your whole body and the world started spinning as you fell off your horse. The tears still filling your eyes helped blind you, sharp whistles filling your ears and the ever-growing pain flowing through you in waves.

You could hear screams of the fallen around you, hidden behind the ringing in your ears. You could feel the air rushing across your skin as the soldiers rushed past you on their horses. Your mind was as paralyzed with pain as your body.

You just laid on the ground, your tear-filled eyes directed to the blue of the sky but the world has lost its color. It went on forever until you were numb, you have lost all feeling, the only thing you can hear is the sound of your heart growing faint as the blood pooled around your body.

You let your eyelids cover your eyes like curtains, your mind swimming somewhere between consciousness and an endless void. You could hardly feel a thing.

It almost felt like falling asleep, your grasp on reality slipping away. But through the back of your mind, the tiny part that was still conscious could feel your body being moved by someone and a rapid rush of air running across your skin.

It gave a jolt to your brain as if something is trying to pull you back to reality but you were too weak. All you wanted was some rest, you just wanted to sleep.

It was a shock to everyone that you’re still alive. You were in bad shape after losing so much blood. Your breath was faint, but it was there and it was enough for you to be revived by the injection. Armin’s state was worse, the fact he was still breathing was a complete miracle, his whole burned away.

Through your clouded consciousness, you could register voices and movement around your body that laid motionless close to Armin’s. It took everything in you to open your eyes, to try to make out the words being yelled back and forth around you.

Through your blurry vision, you could make out the outline of a face so close to yours, peering down at you. You couldn’t see clearly but you knew it was Erwin. Your hearing wasn’t fully registered but you could make out a few words, things like ‘Armin’, ‘Injection’, ‘need’, and your name.

Your foggy mind could barely understand what was going on, but questions started to fill up the part of your consciousness still present.

Were you dying? The last thing you remember is sharp pain rushing through you in waves, but it seems more like a distant memory.

Was Armin dying? If there are mentions of Levi’s injection then this surely is the case.

A few seconds passed when a new figure appeared in your limited line of vision looking down at you over Erwin’s shoulder. Both of them shifted around until the short figure disappeared again, leaving you with Erwin.

Erwin’s voice was so close to your ears, faint whispers about how it’s going to be alright falling past his lips. You felt a huge hand wrap gently around your forearm, followed by a sharp object touching your arm. The injection!

“No,” The barely audible whisper that left you halted Erwin’s actions as his eyes shot to your face “Did we win?”

It felt like too much time has passed before you heard Erwin’s reply “Yes, it’s over”

You were using up too much of your energy to fight back the fog filling your mind. Just a few seconds more, a few more and you’ll allow yourself some rest.

“Save… Armin” your voice was growing weaker, breaths growing shorter.

It broke Erwin’s heart. He was once again being selfish, everyone else chose to save you because you had more experience. To them, you were more valuable to the scouts, with the exception of Armin’s friends who couldn’t accept the fact of him dying.

And Erwin? He wasn’t much different. He wanted to save you because he needed to. He needed to scold you for the stupid move you pulled. He needed to tell you that he would’ve preferred dying by your side than be faced with your death. He needed you to live.

You didn’t understand, he can’t let you die. There was no time for him to explain how valuable you are to the scouts, how valuable you are to him.

He was about to ignore what you said, bring the syringe back to your arm again but with the almost non-existent strength you had, you pulled away.

“Armin” you whispered again, weakly. Your strength wasn’t enough for you to pull back completely, just slightly shift your arm away from the sharp needle, but it was enough to send your message across.

Erwin understood. You were never as selfish as him. You always made the decisions that would benefit the ones you care about most. Erwin took a shaky breath, the composure he usually kept was there for everyone’s eyes, but he wasn’t as composed on the inside.

Armin is a valuable soldier. He is an essential part of the scouts and you understood that. He should be the one to live. And Erwin knew this fight would make no difference if he couldn’t throw everything he had away.

He was ready to throw his dreams and his life away, but you chose for him. You decided he’d keep his life and dreams but in exchange, he’d have to give you up.

After injecting Armin and pulling your weak body away, Erwin stayed by your side. He kept his one hand placed on your heart, waiting for the faint beating to completely stop. And it would have lasted longer if you hadn’t used up so much energy.

To your weak mind, this was the right decision. Armin would do more change for the scouts, for humanity than you ever could. You had no regrets, you’ve got everything you ever asked for.

You allowed your eyes to rest again, let the energy leave your body. And with the last few seconds your breath was there, you could register one whisper. I love you.

Masterlist | Share thoughts with me ☺

[theewritingroomm]

Happy’s Girl

Summary: Happy finally get the courage to ask out Y/N Telford, who happens to be the daughter of none other than Chibs Telford. But neither Happy or Y/N stopped to think about how Chibs would react.  Pairing: Happy Lowman x Reader  Word Count: 2,583 Warnings: Out of character Happy, kinda. swearing.  A/N: Happy is probably written out of character but I just love the ‘he’s a bad guy to everyone but her’ trope. Also, for those that wanted a continuation of THIS Happy imagine, this is the whole one shot. Tell me what you think!! Text divider by: @firefly-graphics​ 

Y/N was walking out of the garage office and making her way to her car when she heard someone calling her name. She figured it was one of the guys coming to ask her about something related to the garage or to ask her if she had seen Gemma. Which she had not. But what she was not expecting was to turn around and see Happy standing there, and not meeting her eye. It confused her, she was used to seeing the killer hold a stare with anyone and not back down.

“What can I do for you Happy?” she asked, “Need something from the office?” 

“No, I actually just need to ask you something,” Happy paused, taking a second to look around for others. Y/N waited, hoping he would continue. 

“I was just wondering if you’d let me take you out?” 

As soon as the words left his mouth Y/N’s stomach erupted in butterflies. She had never expected one of the guys, let alone Happy to be asking her out. Especially considering her father had a seat at the same table and the repercussions for dating his daughter were always great. But Y/N could handle her father and his temper, and neither were going to stand in the way of going out with the guy she had been ogling at for as long as she could remember. 

With a smile on her face Y/N replied, “Of course Hap, I’d love to.” 

A wide smile broke across his face at her words. “Tonight? I can pick you up around 8.” 

“That sounds great, I’ll see you then.” Y/N replied, the smile never leaving her face as she got into her car. 

Y/N was putting her earrings in when her doorbell rang. She let out an excited gasp as she run out of her bedroom and towards her front door. Sliding to a stop in front of it she took a moment to gather to breath before opening the door. 

“Hey,” she said breathless as the door opened to reveal Happy on the other side. 

“Hi,” he replied, nearly as breathless as Y/N had been. “You look amazing.” 

“Thank you,” Y/N mumbled as she felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she stepped out of her doorway. 

Happy took a step back to let Y/N lock her front door. He took a moment to admire her figure in the jeans that she had chosen to wear, thinking to himself that she was the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, with the best ass he’d ever laid eyes on. But that was something he would tell her later.

“You ready to go?” Y/N’s voice broke Happy out of his thoughts. 

Happy smiled and held his hand out for her to take. Y/N happily took it, letting him lead her to the motorcycle that sat next to her car. Happy handed her the helmet that was hung over the handlebars before mounting his bike. Y/N followed him shortly after, buckling the helmet as she slung her leg over the bike. 

“Hold on tight,” Happy said over his shoulder, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he revved the engine of the motorcycle. 

Nearly thirty minutes later Happy was pulling his bike into the empty parking lot of what looked like a bowling alley outside of Charming. As the two dismounted from the bike Y/N sent Happy a questioning look, as if to ask why the parking lot was empty. 

Happy seemed to catch on because he began to speak, “Buddy owns the place and owed me a favor. Figured we’d get a better chance to be more open if no one else was here.” 

Y/N simply nodded, knowing better than to question him as to why he was owed a favor. But she also couldn’t fault his thinking, which is why she did not argue with him when he grabbed her hand and led them to the front door. 

The door opened easily, indeed opening to an empty bowling alley. However, all of the lights were on and there was even a table set up at the start of one of the lanes piled with different types of food and drink. It shocked Y/N, as she had just been expecting a simple dinner or movie. She never expected Happy to put in so much effort to impress her. 

“Happy, this is...” she began, but was quickly interrupted by Happy. 

“It’s nothin’.” 

Y/N shook her head with a smile on her face, knowing that this man wasn’t going to accept any compliment or praise from her. And she didn’t get the chance to argue with him as he led her to the table. Once there Happy took a moment to set up the scoreboard for their game while Y/N poured them both a small glass of beer from the pitcher on the table.

“And we’re all set.” Happy spoke as he turned around to face Y/N who was unable to wipe the smile off of her face.

Nearly four hours later the two of them were walking up Y/N’s driveway and to her front door. Y/N was still unable to rid her face of the smile that she had been sporting all night. From the surprise that was the bowling alley to the good food and great company she could not have asked for a better date.

“I had a great time tonight,” Y/N said as Happy walked her to her door after what she would consider a pretty good date. 

She turned to face him when they reached the door, smiling up at him. He gave her a small smile in return, the emotion actually reaching his eyes. 

“I did too,” Happy replied, taking a step closer to her so she was less than an arm’s length away from him. He reached up to brush a piece of hair out of her face, watching her e/c eyes flash to his lips. 

Happy took that as all the invitation he needed to lean down and brush their lips together; not kissing her yet giving her the chance to pull away is she wished. But Y/N didn’t pull away, instead she placed on of her hands on the side of his face, casting one final glace into his deep brown eyes before pulling him the rest of the way to her, slotting their lips together. 

It was a soft, deep kiss. One that knocked the breath out of Y/N’s lungs and had her craving for more. Despite the feeling deep within her she pulled away, smiling as she could still feel the kiss on her lips. 

“Wow,” she breathed out against his lips, touching her forehead to his. 

Happy chuckled, pulled back a little more to look her in the eye, “You wanna do this again sometime?” 

Y/N nodded, “Pick me up next Friday at eight.” 

As the weeks went on everyone could see the change in Happy’s demeanor, but no one was complaining. They all just wanted to know what girl had Happy so whipped. So, while sitting at the clubhouse bar a few weeks later Tig decided to ask. 

“Hey Hap,” Tig started, waving the larger man over, “I’ve got to ask man, whose got you so pussy whipped?” 

The handful of men around them laughed, including Jax and Chibs. Happy looked from Tig to Chibs, trying to come up with something to say that wasn’t going to anger the Scotsman. But he soon realized that that was going to be next to impossible as the woman he’s been seeing is none other than his daughter. 

So Happy decided to bite the bullet and come clean. He’d rather Chibs knock him to the ground now rather than later, or in front of Y/N. 

“Y/N,” he mumbled, knowing that they all heard him. That much was evident by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. 

“My fuckin’ daughter,” Chibs seethed as he got nose to nose with Happy. Happy nodded as the club house went silent. “Ya’ bangin’ my fuckin’ kid!” 

“Dating,” Happy replied, not backing down now. “We’re dating.” 

Chibs shook his head, anger pouring off the man in waves. “No, end it now. She’s not dating a Son, she deserves more than this life.” 

“I couldn’t agree more,” Happy began, “She deserves so much more than I can give her, and I’ve tried to tell her than. But she’s chosen to stay.” 

Happy took a deep breath, shocked with himself for feeling so many things about this situation and his girl, he wasn’t used to it. “I think I may love her,” he continued.

The clubhouse went deadly silent. No one dared make a sound as the anger rose in Chibs, rather many of them took a step back just as Chibs brought his arm back and slugged Happy across the face, sending the larger man stumbling back a step or two. Gasps and exclamations broke out of the men surrounding Happy and Chibs, waiting to see what would happen next. Many of them expected Happy to come back and lay Chibs out, none of them would blame him if he did. But Happy didn’t do anything but wipe what little blood escaped the cut on his lip.

“I’m not gonna fight you brother,” Happy said, putting his hands up near his chest. “It would kill her to know we went at it. But I’m not gonna lie to you brother, I think I love her.”

Chibs was seething, he didn’t want to hear anything Happy had to say especially when it came to his daughter. His daughter who he loved with everything in his heart, who he so desperately wanted away from the club life, his little girl. He wanted to hit Happy again but knew that he was right it would tear Y/N up. So instead Chibs turned around in a huff and walked away from the group of men, storming in the direction of the office near the garage.

Y/N was sitting in the office with Gemma working on paperwork for the garage when the door opened. Both women looked up from their desks to look at the person who had opened the door, seeing Chibs standing in the doorway.

“Gem, can you give Y/N and I a minute?” he asked with very little emotion in his voice.

The older woman got up from her desk without a word, shooting Y/N a smirk and knowing look over her shoulder. Once the door closed behind her Chibs took a step forward towards his daughter.

“Y/N Telford, how could you not tell me?” her father growled out trying to keep himself from yelling.

Y/N was stunned for a moment. Her father had not talked to her like that since he caught her sneaking out of the house in high school. But she also had no idea what he was talking about, there was a lot that she didn’t let her father know simply because it would give him a heart attack if she did. And she let him know that.

“Dad, I don’t know what you’re talking about,”

“Don’t play fuckin’ dumb wit’ me. I know,” Chibs let out a long, angry breath. “I know your screwin’ Hap.”

Y/N looked at him stunned, “And? We’re dating, what’s the big deal?”

Chibs stood there with his mouth open, stunned himself. He wanted to yell at her but refrained, knowing there was probably already a crowd of bikers standing outside the door.

“He’s a goddamned Son, Y/N! He’s done things that most can’t come back from. He’s just no good for you.”

Y/N shook her head as she stood up from her desk chair. She wanted to meet her dads eye, show him that she’s still the spitfire that he had raised her to be.

“None of that fucking matters Dad. You’re a Son, you’ve done the same things and I never look at you any different.” She took a step closer, “So why the fuck does it matter that its Happy? He’s more than proven that he will be able to take care of me, to keep me safe. And he makes me so happy Dad, isn’t that all you’ve ever wanted for me to be happy?”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, trying to keep the tears from forming or falling. She didn’t want to argue with her dad especially not over something like this.

“Of course, I want you to be happy,” he nearly shouted, “But not with a Son, not with someone who could be putting you in danger.”

“This fuckin’ club is my family because of you and that’s why there’s always a chance that I’m in danger. So why shouldn’t I find a guy who can make me happy and protect me against the people that are after me because of you?” Y/N sighed as she looked at her father. He stood in the same spot with the same amount of rage behind his eyes. “Forget it, I’m not going to keep arguing with you.”

Y/N pushed her way past her father, catching his shoulder on her way to the door. She ripped the door open and watched a dozen men outside attempt to look busy as she stomped through the parking lot. No one attempted to stop her instead letting her storm to her car and peel out of the parking lot. Everyone cut their eyes to Chibs who still seemed to be fuming as the roar of a motorcycle’s engine roared through the air. Signaling Happy had decided to follow Y/N out of the parking lot.  

Y/N slammed her front door as she walked into her house her anger at her father coming to the surface. She was livid with her father; he had no right to be that angry at her for dating someone. She wasn’t sixteen anymore, she was an adult who was completely capable of thinking for herself and making her own decisions. She didn’t need her father to tell her want to do anymore, so why he thought he was still able to was astonishing.

“Babe?” Happy’s voice sounded through the house, reaching Y/N in the kitchen and breaking her from her thoughts. However, she did not respond to him scared that if she did she would end up crying or screaming.

“Baby,” he tried one more time as he stepped foot into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen he saw Y/N leaning against her countertop with her eyes closed, practically shaking. As he moved into the kitchen Y/N didn’t react to her boyfriend, not until he was directly in front of her and pulling her into his arms.

“Why does he have to be such an ass?” Y/N mumbled into Happy’s chest as she wrapped her own arms around Happy’s torso.

“Because he wants what is best for his baby girl.” Happy rubbed his hand up and down Y/N’s back as she tightened her arms around him. “And I’m not that.”

Y/N looked up at Happy with wet eyes, the fear of him breaking up with her running through her mind, “But you are Hap, you’re the best guy I could ever ask for even if you are a little rough around the edges.”

Happy cracked a small smile before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. As he did he thought to himself that they were going to be okay, the two of them would get through this and Chibs would pull his head out of his ass eventually.

[jmoriarty-221b]

So I saw somewhere a post that talked about how some fictional characters just have a divorce vibe going on, like, at no point in time were they ever married but they just give off that feeling that they got divorced

And now I can only think of Clark Kent and Lex Luthor having that vibe

And I spent close to an hour talking about this to my sibling and how it would be a good idea for a new DC show like, you can make so much money off of just the main Batfam alone and there are literally so many people in there that it’s just an amazing idea to have them all in a show together but kind of like a Good Luck Charlie kinda thing because there’s more than enough angst in the world

But in the case of not having enough of a budget for so many characters in one show I turned to the Superfam (Batfam is Huge like, I don’t even know half of the extended family version and that’s like at least ten characters so I could see why it wouldn’t be entirely feasible to have a show that included everyone while still being good with nice character development without having a billion dollars for the budget)

The Superfam, in my personal experience, is composed of Ma & Pa Kent (farm vibes plus I refuse to have either of them die in my AU), Clark Kent (main Superman), Lois Lane (Lana? was Smallville Lois i guess??? But idk enough about her so she’s not here), Jon Kent (Superboi II), Kara Danvers (Supergirl) & Conner Kent (Superboi I)

Now I’ve stopped watching CW shows like, forever ago??? But my brother kinda keeps up with them and basically the gist is that the ratings of every other show suck Except for the Superman & Lois show (because it’s 💫new💫) and I saw the cover of the poster like “Ah, the werewolf dude. . . mmmhhmmm that’s Lois yes, yes that’s Johnny boi, and um is that???? Nooooo, they wouldn’t do that to Conner right???? Please tell me they didn’t make Conner blonde” and I was informed that the blonde teen is Chris???? Like

Whoms’t do ye speak of

I’m not even joking but the only way I even know of Chris is from a random fanfic I read where Dick Grayson gets his own super from an alternate reality named Chris, that’s my only point of reference for this character

But let’s talk about how Conner Kent (OG Superboi) was excluded

Now I haven’t seen any episodes of this and I probably never will (no hate I’m just really unmotivated to start new shows at all) so idk if they might mention Conner or even allude to him in one scene or something

But this was my main motivator as to my new Superfam TV Show Idea

Have Lex Luthor not be a Superman villain, he’s mainly a successful businessman, a little shady but who isn’t, and he doesn’t want to Kill Superman, he just wants to be able to have some sort of viable protection against a Kryptonian in case of an invasion (see Man of Steel + CW’s Supergirl) or suddenly having a mind controlled Superman on their hands (see Justice League series or just look up what Red Krytonite does) so he makes it like his side thing to figure out ways to neutralize or hold back a Kryptonian, Clark totally thinks that Lex is obsessed with finding a way to kill Superman because they had a bad end to their friendship in high school so he’s always suspicious of Lex, Lex hasn’t really ever tried to kill him though because 1. It’s not that deep Clark ok? And 2. He’s a busy busy man with a very important job position and a company to run so does he look like he has time to harbor an obsession over someone who rejected him back in high school??? You’re more of a constant side quest Clark, so stop trying to put him on the JL watchlist ( btw ik about Lena Luthor, haven’t forgotten her but she doesn’t really play a part in this AU so let’s just have her and Kara off to the side doing their own thing ok? Ok)

Lex, Bruce & Oliver all knew each other when they were kids and went to the same school, this is just an extra detail I wanted to happen because Lex and Ollie definitely know Bruce is Batman and absolutely HATE having to deal with Brucie Wayne because “I know you’re just doing this to irritate me Bruce, you just want to see if you can make a vein throb in my forehead but I will valiantly ignore your dumbassery because I know you hate being Brucie just as much as we hate having to put up with Brucie so suck on that you petty bitch” because they bonded in ye olden days, childhood friends so to speak

Anyway so Cadmus tries to get Lex to make an investment in their company, seeing as Cadmus is shadier than Gotham when it rains Lex is basically like ‘no ❤️’ and doesn’t make a deal with them, Cadmus gets mad at not having Lexcorp financially backing them so Lex has an ‘accident’ and they steal his DNA, then they steal Superman’s DNA somehow and *boom* a Superboi is formed

Because I don’t know much about how the Core Four became friends in the first place (Robin Tim Drake, Impulse Bart Allen, Wonder Girl Cassie Sandsmark & Superboy Conner Kent) I’m just gonna go with what happens in the show Young Justice except it’s the Core Four becoming the Core Four when they liberated Conner (who at this point believes himself to be a clone of Superman and has only been given Superboy as a name) from Cadmus, same shit goes down meaning that Clark is just straight up NOT vibing with Conner, Conner just wants a mentor please, and the Bats kinda give Clark a passive aggressive treatment for not taking Superboy under his wing or at least agreeing to teach him how to control his powers, especially Tim because that’s his Bestie so yes

Anyway, YJ saves ppl and is on the news or whatever and Lex finds out about Superboy’s existence that way, so he researches this new super on his free time, finds out that he came from Cadmus and claims to be a clone of Superman, yet doesn’t have the whole power set Superman has??? Wait, didn’t Lex reject Cadmus’ proposal and the got into a mysterious accident??? Long story short Lex goes connecting the dots, hacks into Cadmus’ files, finds out he technically has a son with Superman and decides to take Superboy under his wing (I’ll go more in depth as to why Lex would want to do this in this AU later but the abridged version would be that he wants a kid but doesn’t have the time nor interest in finding a wife??? Also the radiation that made him bald as a kid also affected his reproductive system so while it’s not impossible for him to conceive kids he would have a very hard time actually getting to father a kid)

Him and Conner, who still goes by Superboy at this point in time, meet up and Conner finds out that here is a parent figure that is both available and actively wants to be a part of his life, so he agrees to get to know Lex and the series would focus on them becoming a family, with a special episode when Conner asks Lex for help in choosing a name for himself and it ends up with him agreeing to become Conner Luthor, it would be heartwarming and Mercy would make sure it happens within a day (Mercy is Lex’s bodyguard/PA but they’re also besties and she becomes the Responsible yet Chaotic Aunt as Lex and Conner’s father-son relationship progresses)

Obviously Clark becomes super suspicious of Lex getting close to his ‘clone’ and when Conner decides to go public as Lex’s son he’s like *GASP* and calls up Bruce because we need to get on this Bruce, Lex is a villain and blah blah blah but Bruce would be over Clark’s shit and hit him with that “actually, Lex was also an unwilling genetic donor to Superboy, who actually is not your clone either, and has agreed to take him in, I’ve been on this shit since they first met and the kid is doing just fine so if you keep poking your nose in their business then that’s your problem but you better be ready to pay child support bitch . . . have a good day ❤️”

The series would just focus on Conner getting to have a good parent figure in Lex and go more into their civilian lives rather than focusing on the superhero thing, Conner, Bart, Tim & Cassie have a sleepover at Lex’s house at one point, Lex totally Knows what’s up but it’s all good because these are his baby’s friends and they’re good people who are more than willing to prank Superman for rejecting his kid and giving his baby self worth issues (Mercy supports them)

Anyway, that’s basically the idea for a new Superhero Show

[athenawasamerf]

Feminism in Egypt, Part 2

FGM

FGM has a long, bloody history with African and Arab women. Some people say it originated in Ancient Egypt; others lean more towards it being a Bedouin Arab tradition. I’m not here to discuss the origin story of one of the most horrific human rights infarctions on earth. I’m here to talk about the current feminist struggle against it.

FGM was outlawed in Egypt in June of 2008, and a 2014 survey showed that a whopping 92% of married women and girls between 15 and 49 years old have been subjected to FGM (I will talk more about the inclusion of 15 year olds in official surveys of married women in a post about child brides), and that 72% of these crimes were carried out by doctors. In 2008, a DHS survey of women and girls in the same age range showed that 63% of them were in support of FGM as a practice. Of those 63%, 60% cited husband preference for ‘cleaned’ girls, and 39% cited religious reasons. All of these are easily googleable facts, but these things always sound so clinical when they’re presented like this. Cold, sterile, detached. So, let’s get a little deeper into it, shall we?

Girls in Egypt are mutilated anywhere between birth and marriage, but mostly before the age of 15. These are children. Every single year, we have cases of babies, toddlers, children, young women dying from botched mutilations and infections, especially after the 2016 criminalisation of FGM practitioners. Parents will take their daughters to backwater clinics, or have ‘doula’s who have no medical experience of any kind visit them at home, and cut into the flesh of their young daughters with non-sterile equipment, often without anaesthesia.

I’ve heard and read first-hand accounts of girls who got topical anaesthesia that wore out halfway through. I’ve heard and read first-hand accounts of girls who were dragged, kicking and screaming, and held down by family and neighbours forcefully as their bodies were torn into. Of girls who bled for days, of girls who had to have their legs bound to each other for weeks, of girls who couldn’t stop screaming in pain every time they went to the bathroom, to complete apathy and even disgust and anger from their families, of girls who were snarled at for making noise while their bodies were being torn away on their own beds, of girls who still have constant pain over a decade later, of girls who hate themselves and hate their vulvas, and hate their lives. Of girls who are suicidal, of girls who are terrified of marriage, who have trust issues, who can’t handle the thought of anyone touching them there again, after the first time being so traumatic and painful and horrifying. All of this is done while the family, and even friends and neighbours, celebrate in joy. It’s even tradition in some rural areas to take all the female children of the family to get ‘fixed’ together, dressed in pretty dresses and fancy shoes.

I’ve also heard of women who are asexual due to trauma, whose husbands rape them continuously, who are abused for refusing sex, whose families disown them for being such a disgrace, whose husbands divorce them and leave them for dead, whose husbands marry multiple women besides them, and they are left to fend for themselves, unable to get a divorce and move on, and completely abandoned by the people they trusted the most. They’re told the angels will curse them all night for refusing sex, but what about their trauma? What about their feelings? What about them, as people? Nobody cares.

So, how did we get here? There are 3 main reasons.

The ’’religious’’ folk will cite a (weak) hadith as their proof that FGM is a good, healthy practice. It goes that the prophet saw a woman going to get her daughter cut, and he told her to ‘not cut severely, as that is better for the woman and more preferable to the husband’. Apart from any implications of misogyny in this hadith, it has been disputed multiple times, along with a couple others in support of FGM. You can read more about that here.

Regardless of the truth of FGM having Islamic support, the reality of the matter is that a huge amount of actual, real life Muslim people cite these hadiths as their reasoning to mutilate their daughters, and everyone sees that as completely justified. The truth of the matter is this: Someone put these hadiths into the public conscience knowing full well they will be used to abuse, maim, hurt, kill women for centuries. Whether that someone was prophet Muhammed himself or later scholars, no one can actually ever know.

The second, more indirectly religious and directly misogynistic reason, is to ensure ‘purity’. You see, as I’ve talked about before and as many of you already know, women in Islam and in MENA in general are seen and treated as property. The family’s honour lies between a woman’s thighs. A young girl who speaks to boys her age in the most innocent context possible can be subjected to house arrest, beatings, forced stopping of her education, even death, for daring to put the family’s honour in jeopardy. A girl who has a boyfriend, well...

In a society that places so much value not only on women’s virginity, but also on their complete removal and separation from the male sex at any cost, it’s not very surprising that tips and tricks like using FGM to ‘cull a woman’s sexual desire’ spread like wildfire. Girls are mutilated to make sure they don’t become wh**es. This is said frankly, openly, it’s common knowledge. If you refuse to hurt your child in this way, you will be met with disdain and disgust, and even wails of despair, with shock, with animosity. “Do you want her to become like a prostitute and ruin your family name? Do you want her to walk around uncontrolled? Don’t you know what shame she will bring on you?” These statements are directed at girls as young as... in the womb, if you show your dissent early enough.

And the final reason is the least of them to hide under religious pretences, and the most misogynistic: Because this is how men prefer their wives to be.

You might think when I say preference here, I mean it in the way I mean, “Oh, I personally prefer brunette hair,” but you would be sorely mistaken. By prefer here, I mean demand. I mean a man could force his grown wife, through physical force or through abuse, to mutilate her body for his satisfaction. I mean that men will sneer at un-mutilated women. I mean that men will beat their wives on their wedding night to within an inch of her life for ‘cheating’ them if the wives are not mutilated. I mean men will suspect their wives of adultery and murder them, which carries a reduced sentence of ‘time served during investigation’, just for the simple act of having intact genitals. I mean men will divorce their wives on their wedding night for being unharmed, for being whole. I mean men will act so entitled to women’s bodies that they will always have the assumption that the ‘product’ they are ‘buying’ is cut to taste, and they will become violent and aggressive and murderous if they find out this is not the case.

I personally don’t know whether or not I’ve been mutilated. With such high numbers in Egypt, the likely answer is yes, but I genuinely have no clue. I am not allowed to ask about these things, or I’ll be seen as a loose wh**re. My parents would beat me up and they still wouldn’t allow me the dignity of knowing whether my own body has been altered against my will. I don’t know if I’ll ever find out.

The feminists fighting constantly for tighter regulations, for harsher punishments, for longer sentences; these women are seen as the spawn of the devil. Accusations of loose morals are thrown their way day in and day out. Death threats and rape threats (’that’s what you want anyway isn’t it?’) are hurled at them from every direction. They are silenced. They are ridiculed. But they are prevailing. This year, the Egyptian president has decided to alter the FGM laws to cover loopholes, and possibly to increase enforcement. He has also altered the charge set to doctors who perform FGM which results in death from manslaughter to first or second degree murder.

The problem, however, remains in lack of reporting. Ever since the criminalisation of performing FGM in 2008, and the setting of punishments in 2016 as a minimum of three months’ jail time, to a maximum of 2 years, or a minimum of 1000EGP to a maximum of 5000EGP fines (63.71 to 318.53 USD), and until 2018, and possibly until today, not a single mutilator had been convicted.

Imagine being fined as little as 60 dollars for the permanent mutilation of a little girl’s body. And even that is not happening.

People refuse to report the monsters who do perform this, despite a 2012 gynaecology convention condemning the practice, and calling it an inhumane act, and stating quite forcefully that it is not a medical procedure, and that it is an infringement on the human rights of women and girls, which medicine and medical ethics do not condone. And yet, the public opinion remains the same: this is their business, it is not our place to intervene. It is not our place to get this fine young man thrown in jail, or fined, for performing a ‘cleaning’ procedure, and besides, wouldn’t you rather they had a medical professional perform it, rather than an uneducated woman, or a barber, or a butcher? It is not our place to report this family and tear them apart -  what did they ever do to us that we may hurt them like this?

No one ever asks what little girls have ever done for us to fail them like this.

[viking-raider]

Seals of the Lost - Prelude

Summary: An Order of Riders in the East and West, united in keeping the World harmonious, is fractured by greed and corruption. The survivors go into hiding to protect the world from the evil that wants to destroy it and rule all. But, nothing remains lost.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader

Word Count: 7,648

Rating: PG - Language, Violence and Death, World-Building, Mythology, Lore, Magic, Historical and Modern Fiction

Inspiration: A mash-up of several movies and books I've seen and read.

Author's Note: Thanks to @wondersofdreaming for her support and encouragement and @firefly-graphics for the divider.

Tag List Blog: @viking-raider-taglist

Once, in bygone millennia, two groups and majestic creatures lived in true harmony with one another, and did for many centuries.

They had always been harmonious, the East and the West, even separated by the vast ocean between them, like they were. Both cultures took great pride in caring for the majestic creatures that inhabited the world with them. Even though in the beginning, when the creatures first appeared, it was not that way.

At first, the sightings were brushed off as nothing more than crack stories of drunks and attention seekers. But, more and more of them came in, then the first attacks started happening. Whole villages burned to the ground, all across the East and West, no side was shown special exception or spared; countless people displaced and killed.

Before, one man, Edward Williams, the East's best tracker, managed to follow one of the creatures back to its lair. But, when Edward sneaked inside, he found an entire world inside the earth, filled with every type, size and shape of the creatures, more than any of his people, East or West, could ever have imagined.

The creatures easily outnumbered all of the humans outside of their world-like cave, and it scared the life out of Edward.

What he hadn't expected was one of the creatures appearing behind him as he spied them, from what he had believed to be a hidden vantage point. Edward was sure his life was forfeit as it stood over him, caging him in with it mountainous body, thick and frothy drool dripping from its snarling, scaly lips and dagger-sharp row of teeth, puffing foul and hot breath from its nostrils into his face, like the great heat of a blacksmith's forge or a venting volcano. Edward trembled, squeezing his eyes shut and mumbling a prayer to himself, giving himself his own last rites, and lifting hand to his face to cross himself, when he felt a very gentle touch against the side of his palm, and dared to crack open one of his eyes.

“Well.” He dared to croak out, his throat dry, as the creature eased back from him. “That was an interesting turn of events.” He mumbled, blinking at the creature, thunderstruck by the fact the creature didn't either eat him or roast him, like something on a spit over a fire.

He flexed his fingers and slowly reached out and and touched two fingers to the creature's face, felt what he could only describe as a purr and relaxed, throwing out all the knowledge and preconceived notions he had about them.

Yes, they had attacked, blackened villages and killed, but he felt there had to be a reason for why this was, and endeavored in finding out why. So, Edward Williams vanished inside the creature's underworld, protected by his new friend and in the years that followed he became one with the creatures that lived and thrived inside of it, until he emerged and returned to the world of his own kind, with his friend, who he had named, Mavy.

Then, with time and many trials, the people of the East and West became harmonious with the creatures, protecting and caring for them, each group, each culture having their own way of doing so. They revered them and the creatures returned that sentiment in the same gratitude and measure. Many of the humans bonded to the creatures, becoming linked together, like one mind inside two very different bodies, even allowing the humans to have gifts, becoming what was known as Riders.

But, like all things, especially things of good and harmony, it did not last.

“The bond between us and them is a bond that should not be corrupted!”

“Aye!

“Who do you think you are!? This is not what we stand for, Christos!”

“This isn't what you stand for!” Christos roared back, slamming his fist on the stone table before him. “And I am sick of your do-gooier ways. The rulers gain riches from Riders protecting their borders, lands and people, and from what?” He hissed, looking around the table. “There hasn't been a war, a skirmish, not even a riot, in nearly four hundred years!”

“That's because of us, Christos!” One of the others at the table with him sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, exhausted and exasperated with Christsos's pettiness. “We don't do it for the money or the glory. But the greater good and prosperity of the world around us.”

“Both worlds.” Another agreed, nodding his head. “For humans and them.”

“Not any longer.” Christos growled under his breath, glowering at the table. “I'm sick of it. I demand a Rider's right, so I can get what's right; payment for protecting these greedy men's lands.”

The men around the table looked at each other, surprised at his demand to have the right to their lifestyle, their occupation and what had been passed down to them through birth and proof of passage. The leader of the group, who had remained silent during the arguments, stood from his chair, letting out a heavy sigh and shook his head at Christos as he leaned his hands against the table.

“No, Christos.” He told him, plainly. “You have no birth right to be a Rider, and you have not proven yourself worthy to become one either. Your greed and anger is plain to see, and even if it was not now, I fear it would be not too far in the future, corrupting your bond as a Rider, and as the head of this Order, I can not allow that.” He spoke honestly, meeting Christos's furious brown eyes.

Christos jerked out a stiff finger, pointing to the head leader. “You will regret this, all of you will regret this, from this moment to the very ends of time and your bloodlines!” He threatened, spitting on the table, before spinning on his heels and storming out of the hall, with a determination that would fuel the flames and tides of the war that would fracture and splinter the East and West into the world as people know it, in current times.

The Order didn't take Christos's word as a threat, in the beginning that is.

He vanished off the map, not a whisper on the winds or from the other Order Houses about his movements throughout the world. The leaders and rulers believed he had let out his hot air and ran off to pout and lick his wounded ego over his rejection. That was until people started disappearing all across the lands, of all statures and social standings, even the family members of the Riders, but that wasn't the worst of it, the evidence left behind the disappearances was damning, and damning for the Order and Riders.

“Sir, they're gathering outside!”

“Yes, Marcus, I can hear them.” The Order leader sighed, pacing the room, hearing the echo of the jeering voices in the stone room around him, causing the situation to weigh even more heavily on him.

“How could they think that we and our creatures are behind these disappearances?” Marcus asked, looking to his leader for comfort. “We've spent centuries in harmony, protecting them, keeping the peace and prosperity. We find what causes people to go missing, not cause them!” He roared, his temper overcoming him, and the room around him shaking.

“Calm yourself, Marcus, getting angry will solve none of this.” His leader sighed, resting his hands on his shoulders.

“But, it isn't fair, Alaric.” Marcus hissed, still angry.

“We will right this, Marcus.” Alaric assured him with a pat on the shoulder.

The doors to the Order house flew open and one of the other Riders came rushing in, out of breath and his clothing torn, from his struggle through the mob crowded outside, and skid to a halt before Marcus and Alaric, taking a moment to catch his breath again.

“What is it, Asher?” Alaric asked, with wide eyed concern.

“Whitewich has been attacked.” He wheezed, stumbling over to the table in the middle of the room to grab a tankard sitting on it and gulp down the remaining liquid inside, quenching his dry tongue.

“By one of our own.”

“What!” Alaric roared, flabbergasted at the news.

“Ronan, from one of the West Order houses, flew into Whitewich on his creature and attacked the village, torching the whole place. Nearly killing all the inhabitants within its walls, before denouncing the Order and the Riders, then flew off again.” Asher told Alaric, leaning against the table and mopping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.

“What does Bowen say of this?” Alaric asked, lifting his brow at Asher. “He's the Western Leader for our Order there.”

“He and his Riders are trying to track Ronan down, to bring him to justice.” Asher replied, sighing heavily.

A door to the south of them swung open, admitting a bent back, severely bow-legged, elderly man, with long, thinning white hair, twisted into two braids, each resting on either shoulder. Alaric turned towards the old man and lifted a brow at him, giving him a patient moment to collect his energy and find the words in his senile mind, before letting out soft, but good-natured, sigh.

“What is it, Gilbert?” He asked in a gentle tone.

“Mess..enger—birds,..your..grace.” Gilbert replied in a shaky voice. “Many..of..them.”

Alaric pinched the bridge of his nose, not at all having a good feeling about the messenger birds appearing in their coop. “All right.” He groaned, and followed Gilbert very slowly out of the Order's central room and into the open air of a courtyard, where the angry voices of the crowd was even louder, and to a tall circular tower, dominated by the fluttering and flapping of bird's wings and their calls. Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Alaric, Gilbert, Asher and Marcus entered the tower, where a group of four men were gently holding ravens and pigeons, removing teeny scrolls from leather tubes tied to one of their feet, before letting them go, to fly up into one of the empty cubby holes to rest from their long flights.

“What are the messages?” Alaric asked the workers.

“Mostly the same, sir.” One of the men answered, carefully unrolling the message he removed from the raven balanced on his forearm. “Several Riders across multiple Houses, in the West mostly, but three here in the East have joined them, have turned their backs on the Order, attacking villages, towns and cities all across the world.” He read from the scroll, also reciting several of the others he and others had read before Alaric arrived.

“They're flying under the banner of a Serpent and uttering the same one name.” He said, looking up at Alaric. “Christos Forebine.”

“So,” Alaric sighed, dropping into a nearby chair. “He's kept his promise.” He whispered, dropping his face into his hands.

“Alaric, we must do something!” Marcus barked at him, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him violently. “You are the Leader of our Order, you can't not admit defeat and let this monster take over! Christos will not stop until he has destroyed us all and taken every last one of our creatures, then has taken control of the world!”

“He's right.” Asher agreed with Marcus, nodding his head. “Christos could corrupt more of them and the Riders to tip the world's balance into his favor, making himself supreme ruler of us all!”

“We need to stop him, before this gets fully out of our control, Alaric.” Marcus said softly, frowning down at his long time Leader and friend.

“You're right, we need to gather our Riders and get things in the sky and ground under our control again.” Alaric nodded, biting his lip. “Gilbert, Tomas.” He looked to the workers for the messenger birds. “I want you to send out birds to as many Riders as possible, the ones here in the East and any remaining from the West. I want them here as quickly as they can get here.”

Tomas nodded and got quickly to work, while Gilbert stood in place for a moment, before shuffling away somewhere.

“Asher and Marcus, come with me.”

The resistance of Riders gathered in the East Order House, only one of the Order Houses from the West was left not corrupted from Christos and by the time all of the messenger birds were sent out to the Houses, two of the Eastern Order Houses fell under him.

Alaric knew Christos would never again sit down and talk with the remaining Order Houses about peace and coming to an agreement to stop the conflict and unrest he was creating between the East and West. There was only one thing Christos knew, especially now that he had a league of experienced and seasoned Riders on his side, and becoming a Rider-in-training himself, and that was war and skirmishes. The two groups that had once rallied together, now fought on that same land wrecking havoc and leaving behind bloodshed and death, fighting family and friends, leaders and teachers to maintain a way of life or to create a new one where they could be the new masters.

“Asher is dead, as is his creature.” Marcus informed Alaric, wiping blood from the corner of his brow. “Two of Christos's Rider's dragged them out of the sky.” He frowned, the sight of Asher's death still fresh in his mind.

“Neither stood a chance at survival.”

Alaric, leaning against a table as he surveyed a map of the current battlefield, bowed his head, devastated by the news of Asher's death, his worn and cut up face pinched with deep emotion. “It's a heavy blow.” He mumbled, not lifting his heavy head.

“Alaric Saintwatcher.” A voice called across the makeshift war room.

Alaric looked up and saw Darius Simperwill approach him, limping rather badly, a bloody rag bound tightly around his thigh, with several of the other Riders, in no better shape than he was behind him.

“What is it, Darius?” He asked, rubbing his face and standing, groaning at the stiffness in his back and limbs.

“We can no longer sustain the fight against Christos and his followers.” Darius said, stopping at the table. “More of our Riders either join his forces or die. We need a better plan.”

“And you have one?” Alaric replied, lifting an exhausted brow at him.

“There has to be somewhere we can take our creatures and people, where Christos and his filthy traitors can't get their hands on them.” One of the Riders with Darius grumbled behind him.

“Don't you think, if there was such a place, genius, we would have gone there already?” Marcus retorted, scowling at him.

“It might not exist now, genius.” He belittled Marcus back, huffing at him.

“Speak plainly!” Alaric roared, tired of the nitpicking and petty squabbles of late.

“We all know that our bonds with our creatures can give us power, aye?” Darius said, looking around the room.

“Aye.” Alaric sighed, nodding his head and dropping into his chair.

“Well, Edward Williams believed that Riders and their creatures could combine their powers together and open a door, creating a completely different world, only they could open and close.”

Marcus's head reared back, his laughter filling the room with a thunderous boom. “Open a door to create a totally different world, where we can all have a merry little jaunt into, while Christos stays here, in this world, and rules?” He continued to laugh, shaking his head and held his stomach.

“That's a marvelous idea, Darius.”

“Marcus, hush!” Alaric snapped and rolled his eyes at him, then looked to Darius. “How do you expect me to take those I now have under my care into this world we could possibly create for safety and leave those Christos has under his corruption here?”

“They are already lost!” Darius hissed at him, slapping his hands on the table.

“And the innocent people that wouldn't be able to cross this door with us?” Alaric demanded, angrily. “I've read of this theory in the old texts before, only a Rider and the creatures can cross the doorway. Regular humans would be trapped on this side of it.” He said, jabbing his finger into the table top.

“Leaving them to Christos's fury, when we vanish into it. I won't do that. I won't leave them to that fate, it's against everything we stand for.”

Darius huffed and pushed away from the table, frustrated and at his wit's end.

“What about an ambush?” Marcus asked, biting his lip.

“What kind of ambush?” Alaric asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Set Christos and his traitors up in an ambush of some type that allows us to kill them and their creatures. Then, once they are gone, we can open the door and take the remaining Riders and creatures through, protecting them, so no others are able to do such a thing like what he has again.”

Darius turned back towards Alaric, holding his gaze for a long moment, before they nodded at each other.

“Gather all those we have left.” Alaric said, his eyes never leaving Darius.

Within the hour, the remaining twelve were gathered in the war room and were told the plan on how they intended to put an end to the war.

“How do we open this door?”

“It takes five of us to create and open the door to the world we make for ourselves, but three of the five, must stay behind.” Alaric explained to the group.

“Why?”

“Three Seals will be forged within the door, when it is created. To lock the door behind us, the three Seals must be removed from the door.” Darius picked up explaining. “We can't allow just anyone to watch over the Seals once the doors are closed. It has to be three people out of this trusted group, or all will be for not.”

“I'll be one of the three.” Marcus spoke up, standing up from his seat. “It would be my honor to guard the door that gives my people safety.”

“As will I.” Another Rider vowed, standing with Marcus.

A soft murmur went through the room.

“Aye, I'll be your third.” said a man in the back, raising his hand above his head.

“Then, those two, Marcus, Alaric and I will open the door.” Darius said, nodding his head as the plan came together. “Now,-”

“I won't be going.” Alaric interrupted him.

“What?” Marcus and Darius snapped in unison.

“We need someone to set the ambush.”

“Absolutely not!” Marcus hissed, stomping over to Alaric's side. “You can't! Take my place, protect the Seal. I'll set up the ambush with Christos, it was my idea after all.”

“No, Marcus.” Alaric shook his head, sighing softly at him. “Christos won't go anywhere without just cause. He's always been suspicious and paranoid, so for him to be led into a place for any reason, has to be for a good reason.”

“Am I not a good enough reason?”

Alaric smirked at Marcus and lifted an amused brow, his face getting the point across that he certainly was not good enough to lure Christos anywhere, making Marcus's shoulders slump.

“You couldn't lure him out of the loo.” Darius teased him.

“Oh, shut it.” Marcus hissed at him, angrily. “I can't let you do this.”

“Marcus, I am the Leader of the Order, it is my job to protect it and all those inside of it.” He told him, sincerely. “I am also the only one Christos will deem valuable enough to meet.”

“He's right.” Darius agreed, sadly nodding his head. “What do you have in mind, Alaric?” He asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Just leave that to me.” Alaric replied, his mind already working on it.

“All right, then we need one other for the door.” Darius sighed, looking around the room.

“I'll help.” A soft voice in the back answered.

Heads turned and looked at the timid face of Tomas.

“I know the history behind it.” Tomas said, gulping and looking around the room.

“Thank you, Tomas.” Alaric said, smiling at him.

Tomas smiled shyly at him, nodding his head and shuffling his feet.

“There has to be someone else.” Marcus whispered into Alaric's ear.

“I chose Tomas, he'll do well.” Alaric replied, dismissing Marcus's notion.

“Where do we make this door?”

“We need a safe place. We'll scour for it, while preparations are made for the refugees to go through the door, once it is opened. Make sure to gather as many supplies as possible, for all those that cross the threshold. There's no telling what will be found there, once on the other side.” Alaric said, meeting the eyes of everyone in the room.

“I might have a place, as well.” Tomas spoke up, lifting a pointer finger.

“Where?” Darius demanded, narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

“The original world cave is nearby.” Tomas started to explain to them, moving over to the table, where several maps were laid out. “Here, this was the original world cave, where Edward Williams discovered our creatures.”

“It's unmarked and very few actually know where it is.”

“How do you know where it is?” Marcus asked, looking at the map where Tomas's finger was tapping.

“I've spent my life studying the ancient texts.” Tomas answered, looking up at him. “He described the specific world cave countless times, and I've explored several of them myself, and this is the one that fits the description of it.”

“You're sure?” Alaric asked, leaning forward to look at the map.

“On my creature.” Tomas nodded, sure of himself.

“Then, what?” Marcus asked, lifting a brow at Tomas.

“We go to the world cave, open the door and those going can enter through the doorway. Once that is done, the Seal Keepers remove the Seals and the door will lock behind them.” Tomas explained to the room. “I do propose, once the door is closed and the Seals removed, that the three of us Keepers collapse the entrance of the cave, preventing anyone from finding it again. So, anyone that would wish to take Christos's cause up after his demise can not find it and do so.”

“That is a solid idea, Tomas.” Alaric replied, stroking his chin and nodding his head. “I want the five of you to go there and start the preparations to open the door, the rest of you will start gathering supplies to go through it.” He said, standing up.

“And you, Alaric?” Darius asked, standing up with him.

“As I said, leave that to me.” Alaric replied, before leaving the room.

The five who agreed to open the door arrived at the world cave discovered by Edward Williams all those centuries ago, finding a small path that laid to a shelf and a reasonably flat enough rock face.

“This'll do.” Tomas said, pressing his hand against it. “It's perfect for what we need.” He nodded, then turned to the others. “Do you all know the words?” He asked them, hopefully.

“I know them.” Darius spoke up.

“Darius told me about them after the meeting.” Marcus added.

The two others just glanced at each other and back at Tomas.

“Right, so.” Tomas sighed, pressing his fingers into his eyes and paced the narrow shelf. “The words go like this; 'Through our shared bond, with we and them. We call upon it, in this time of need, to open this door, so that we may soar into a new world and be free, once more'.” He recited the words.

“Understood?”

“Aye.” the four other men nodded their heads.

“Place a hand on the stone.” Tomas motioned for them too.

The four approached the wall, reaching out a hand to touch the cool wall alongside Tomas.

“Now, tap into your bond with your creature.” He instructed them. “Let the bond flow wide open and free, like the flowing of a river.”

They all took a deep breath, opening themselves and feeling the tingle and hum of their bonds strengthen to their fullest potential, making the air around them shimmer with it.

“All together now, say the words.” Tomas said. “And push it into the rock.”

“Through our shared bond, with we and them. We call upon it, in this time of need, to open this door, so that we may soar into a new world and be free, once more.” They all said in unison, squeezing their eyes shut.

They repeated the incantation over and over, the words slowly getting muddled as they did, but their meaning and purpose was not lost with them. With each completed pass of the incantation, thin glowing blue lines cracked through the face of the wall, tracing and weaving the outline of a mighty door, making the cavern around them rumble and quake, then slowly scrape open.

“It actually worked.” One of the men huffed, stepping away from the door, mouth hanging open.

“What did you actually expect, you daft monkey?” Marcus snapped at him.

“Calm down, Marcus.” Darius sighed. “Ian doesn't mean anything by it.”

“Yeah, I don't.” Ian replied, making a smug face at Marcus.

“Ian, come with me, we'll go and tell Alaric that the door is ready. The rest of you stay here and make sure no one comes that shouldn't, and set up the explosives for us to close the cave entrance, when the time comes.” Darius said, motioning for Ian for him to follow, making for the mouth of the cave and returning to the sanctuary, where the remaining Riders were holed up.

“Alaric, we're ready.” Darius said, entering the Leader's private chamber.

“Good, excellent.” Alaric nodded, standing near the fireplace in his chamber. “I'm leaving soon, Darius.” He said, staring into the flames. “But, before I go, I have one more thing I need to do. To ensure.”

“All right.” Darius nodded, frowning at Alaric's back.

“Will you help me with it?” Alaric asked, turning towards him.

“Aye, tell me what I can do?”

Alaric touched a pendant hanging around his neck, then took it off. “Come here.” He said, motioning Darius closer to him.

Darius regarded him for a moment, before approaching him, and Alaric held the pendent out to him, both of them holding it together.

“I, Alaric Saintwatcher, give you, Darius Simperwill, the pendent of the Order of the East-” Alaric began.

“Alaric, wait.” Darius began to protest. “You can't do this.”

“I can and I will, Darius.” Alaric growled back. “Those remaining will need a Leader.”

“Marcus is the second in command.”

“He's one of the three Seal Keepers, he can't be the Leader of those who go through the door.” Alaric barked at him, agitated that Darius was causing them precious time with foolish protests. “You are the only one it can be. You're the only one I trust enough, with enough experience and respect for those going.” He argued.

“Now, shut up and let me finish.” He huffed, squeezing their hands around the pendent. “I, Alaric Saintwatcher, give you, Darius Simperwill, the pendent of the Order of the East to take responsibility for all those that the Order encompasses, for their safety and well-being.” He recited the oath from heart, remembering from when he had taken it, all those decades before.

“Do you take this oath, Darius Simperwill?” He asked, meeting his eye.

Darius stared at him for a long moment, conflicted about taking the oath, of taking his place, knowing Marcus would lose his mind when he found out. But, it was what Alaric wanted. “Aye, I'll take the oath, Alaric Saintwatcher.”

“Then, I pass this on to you.” Alaric said, letting the pendant go. “Wear it with pride.”

Darius stared at it for a moment, rubbing his thumb over the raised symbol on the pendant, before hanging it around his neck by the worn and frayed leather cord. “I'll do you proud, Alaric.” He said, a lump in his throat.

Alaric clasped him on the shoulder. “I have no doubt otherwise.” He smiled. “One last drink?” He asked, grabbing an emerald green bottle off a nearby table and held it up.

“Aye, one more drink.” Darius nodded, tears burning in his eyes.

“To the Order, to the Riders, to our Creatures and to our ways of life!” Alaric declared, holding up his glass in salute.

Darius nodded, holding up his glass. “To true friends.” He added, holding Alaric's eye with a soft smile.

“To true friends.” Alaric agreed, quietly choked up, before both of them swallowed their drinks in one mouthful.

Alaric watched as the Order's refugees silently funnel out of the sanctuary, carefully vanishing into the dark hills that surrounded it, making their way towards the mouth of the world cave that secreted the door to their refuge, led by Darius, their new Order Leader.

Sighing, he turned to his creature and mounted, flying off to do his last bidding. He took a deep breath of the cool night air streaming past his head, his eyes falling shut and letting the free and weightless feeling take over him, an ocean of inky purple clouds and sparkling stars and constellations all around him.

“Our last ride, Tila.” He murmured, resting forward and wrapping his arms around his creature's thick, scaly neck.

His mind flitted back to the message he had sent to Christos in his own battlement, giving him a place to meet, under the false pretense of peace between both sides. He arranged for them to meet inside a world cave, claiming it was Edward's world cave, what perfect place to set him up in, making him think it was the cave that started it all, the cave that would give him all the power he wanted.

The mouth of the cave came into view and Alaric could see a few of Christos's Riders standing outside, waiting for him to arrive and join them inside. Letting out a heavy breath, he and his creature landed, ignoring those already on the ground and entered the world cave, those outside following him inside, closing in around him and Tila.

“Where are the rest of your brats?” Christos's voice echoed over to Alaric.

“Back at our sanctuary.” Alaric replied, slipping off of Tila.

“Doing things on your own, as always, Alaric.” Christos mocked him. “Keeping your pups cowering behind your walls.”

“Do you want to talk or throw insults, Christos?” Alaric sighed, rolling his eyes, feeling antsy.

“Peace!” Christos screamed, throwing his arms out wide, and turning in a circle, making every one of his followers laugh. “The great Order Leader, Alaric Saintwatcher wants peace, in exchange for what, exactly?”

“You stopping this crusade, this needless bloodshed of our kind.”

“Ha!” Christos hissed back. “Now, I'm one of your kind.”

Alaric sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose, knowing there was no real way to get through to Christos Forebine, unless it was on his own terms.

“How about I take my Riders and torch your precious sanctuary and Riders?” Christos suggested, pandering to his riled up followers. “Then, there will be true peace!”

“With you as the ruler of us all?” Alaric replied, lifting a brow at him.

“Exactly.” Christos grinned at him, impishly. “But, that starts with getting rid of you.” He growled, narrowing his eyes at Alaric. “Kill him!” He screamed at the top of his lungs.

Alaric's heart started to pound against his ribs, he rested his hand on Tila's neck as Christos's followers started closing in on him. He waited, calmly, before it was almost too late for him to make his move.

“Now, Tila!” He shouted, patting her on the neck.

Stretching her long neck and letting out an ear splitting shriek, Tila opened her mouth and shot a blueish-purple flaming orb into the dome of the world cave, causing the entire cave to quake, huge pieces of the ceiling came crashing down and hitting Riders and Creatures alike, startling them. As they started to recover again, Tila let out another blast to a separate part of the world cave's ceiling, causing

even more of the ceiling to collapse on top of them.

“Alaric, what are you doing!?” Christos shouted over the noise of crashing rock and panicked voices.

“What I must!” Alaric roared back at him.

With one alarming rumble and strong tremor, the rest of the world cave's ceiling gave way, crumbling away on top of them. Many of Christos's followers attempted to escape, to get to some kind of safety before it was too late, but it was too late, the mouth of the cave fell in on itself, closing them in, with no other way out, leaving them to their deaths.

Meanwhile, Alaric's remaining Riders and creatures, now under the watchful leadership of Darius, felt the ground shake as they ascended deep into Edward's real world cave towards the Seal Door. Darius and Marcus glanced at each other as they stood beside each other at the door, knowing what was causing the shake.

“Well, I'll assume Alaric was successful.” Darius sighed, watching the last few remaining Riders funnel in.

“We'll soon find out.” Marcus replied, biting his lip and felt a sharp heaviness in his chest. “Still can't believe he made you the new Leader of the Order.” He huffed, folding his arms over his chest, dejectedly.

Darius sighed again, rubbing his fingertips into his tired eyes. “I told him, it should have been you who took his place. But, he said, since you were chosen to be a Seal Keeper, it had to be me.” He said, dropping his hands to his sides and looking over at his long time friend.

“I know.” Marcus answered, lightly jabbing his shoulder into Darius's and gave him a teasing smile. “Still can't believe it.” He chuckled.

“Do me one solid favor, though?”

“Anything, Marcus?” Darius nodded, his brow pinching with sincerity.

“Will you take care of Icarus for me?” He asked, looking at his creature, with a loving, but sad, smile. “She's a good ol' girl, spits ice farther than any I've ever met.” He reminisced, petting her incandescent blue wing.

“You have my promise.” Darius swore, resting his hand on Darius's back. “I'll take care of her, like I care for Elio.”

“I appreciate it, Darius.” Marcus sighed, clasping him on the arm. “I really do.”

“Everyone's here and ready.” Tomas said, approaching Darius and Marcus.

“Ian and Coda, are you ready?” Marcus asked, looking at his fellow Seal Keepers.

“We are.” Ian nodded and glanced at Coda.

“All right, that just leaves the rest up to you, Darius.” Marcus said, respectfully bowing to him.

“Oh, don't go giving me any of that bullshit, Marcus Cuillen.” Darius huffed at him, grabbing him roughly by the shoulders and pulled him into a bear hug. “I'll miss you.”

“Don't go soft now.” Marcus roared, squeezing him back, before they broke apart, and he stepped away from Marcus to stand beside Coda and Ian.

“Riders!” Darius called out, his voice reverberating off the stone walls.

“We are all that is left. We and our creatures, who we are tasked with protecting, but we are also tasked with protecting the way of our life, of our Order.” He shouted, meeting the eye of as many Riders he could. “For that reason, we will enter this door, into a new world, where it is safe for us and them. I do not know, if ever, we will return to this world, or what we will find, when we do.”

“But, for now, this is what we must do, and as your new Leader, I will step through first, to show to you, it is safe!”

Taking a deep breath, Darius turned towards the open stone door. He couldn't see what was on the other side of it, because of a shimmering, dark purple membrane stretched across the opening stood between the Order and their new world. So, squaring his shoulders and fortified by what he was doing was for the greater good of his people and the world at large, Darius strode forward with his head held high and confident. He reached his hand out, touching the membrane with his fingertips and found it to be cool, as the rock face itself, before pushing his hand through it, making it ripple, like water.

Darius looked over his shoulder and smiled at the group behind him, then stepped through, vanishing on the other side. A gasp rippling through the group left behind. A moment later, Darius's creature, Elio, stirred its scales and approached the door, slipping through it without a thought or hesitation.

“It must be safe.” Ian spoke up, after a minute of nothing. “Or he wouldn't have summoned his creature to follow after him.” He pointed out.

“True.” Marcus nodded his head. “Okay, everyone!” He shouted, getting the group's attention as they all stared at the doorway, wide eyed and astonished. “Single file, start going through. No pushing or shoving! Nice and easy, that's it.” He nodded his head, as the group started to trail in, somewhat hesitatingly at first, through the door with what belongings and supplies they could carry, as well as with their creature.

Once all of the Order was inside, the three Seal Keepers said their last good-byes to their own creatures, knowing for their safety, they had to also go through the doorway, and sent them on their way; Ian tearing up a little bit as his creature's tail disappeared through the membrane last.

“Now what, Marcus?” Ian asked, looking at him, as a lonely feeling starting to spread inside of his chest.

“We close the door.” Marcus replied, having a similar feeling. “Help me push it.” He said, moving around and planting his hands on the door.

Nodding their heads, Coda and Ian joined him, then with grunts and groans, they pushed the door closed, slotting it back into the rock face seamlessly, except for the eerie blue glow it still had to it.

“Right.” Marcus sighed, dusting his hands on the thighs of his pants. “I'll take the top Seal.” He said, reaching up for the object slotted into the front of the door, and after a moment of figuring it out, gave it a half turn to the left and popped it out, feeling the hefty weight of it in his single palm.

“I'll take the right one.” Ian replied, grabbing it and with a quarter turn to the right, had it out in his hand as well.

Nodding his head, Coda removed the left Seal with a full turn. The three of them stood together for a long while, staring down at their Seals, each with a different symbol on it. They could feel a faint hum of power slowly fading out of them, as the magic that opened the door vanished into the thin air around them, causing the glow of the now closed and locked doorway to dull and darken, leaving a pale outline of where they had once been, the only evidence of their existence, other than the Seals.

“How about a pint?” Ian suddenly suggested, looking up from his Seal.

Marcus heaved a sigh. “I could use a drink.”

“What about you, Coda?” Ian asked, lifting a brow at him.

Coda stared at his Seal a moment longer, then looked up at the other two men, shook his head and started making his way back out of the world cave. Marcus and Ian shrugged their shoulders at each other, but followed him out of the cave as well. They stopped outside of the cave, tucking the Seals away on their person for safety, before lighting the fuses to the explosives they had laid, then put several yards between them and the cave as the muffled explosions went off and the earth around it folded in on itself. With a respectful bow, Coda took his leave of Marcus and Ian, going off into the night, on his own.

“I think it's best we also part ways, as well.” Marcus said, setting down his pint, as he and Ian sat in an ale house in the nearest town. “We're no longer Riders.” He sighed, staring into the foam of his drink. “Even if we still had our creatures, we couldn't do anything with them, it would be too dangerous.”

“I believe you're right.” Ian burped, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “We would be daft to be in the same town, let alone the same city with our Seals, should anyone come looking for them.”

“No one should even be alive, other than the three of us and those that crossed the door, that know about the Seals either way.” Marcus commented, flicking his hand to motion to the full room of patrons. “If Alaric's plan went off like it should have, all of Christos's followers should be dead.”

“You know, there has to be some low life, wanna-be, Rider that followed that madman out there.” Ian huffed, lifting a brow at Marcus. “You would be an idiot not to be slightly paranoid about it.”

“I am.” Marcus barked, lifting his tankard back to his mouth and took a deep drink. “That's why I suggested we separate too. Just like Coda did.”

Ian bit his lip and pushed his jaw forward, nodding. “All right.” He huffed, rubbing at his face and feeling the weight of his Seal in his pocket. “I've always loved it across the sea, the land is nice.” He mumbled. “I'm sure Coda is going back to his corner in the far East.”

“Why don't you stick around here, we'll all three cover those bases.” He suggested, lifting a brow.

Marcus cleared his throat and thought it over. He wasn't opposed to staying in the part of the world they were in, but he still wanted a change in scenery, just like Ian and Coda did. “I might wander up North a bit. I'm sick of this area, nothing but heartache and bad omens.”

“That's up to you.” Ian replied, shrugging his big shoulders.

“I doubt the three of us will ever see each other again.”

“Good.” Ian chuckled, hoarsely. “I'm sick of your face and have been for years.” He said, cracking a smile.

“The feeling's mutual.” Marcus grinned, lifting his cup and knocked it against Ian's, when he lifted his. “To the Order and, hopefully, a better world.” He toasted, before they both gulped down the rest of their ales, shook hands and took leave of each other, their Seals safe with them as they went.

“Yes, Mum. I just got the box delivered ten minutes ago.” Henry replied, pressing his phone to his ear with his shoulder and pulled a steak knife out of the drawer, to cut the packaging tape off the box his mother had shipped to him from Jersey.

“How are you liking the new place, love?” Marianne asked her son.

“I really like it.” He answered, pulling open the cardboard flaps of the box. “It's quiet out here and there's a ton of yard for Kal to go wild in.” He grinned, twisting his upper body to look out the kitchen window in time to see a Kal sized blur bolt across the backyard and into the side yard. “He's already dug five holes.” He chuckled, turning back towards the box.

“Anyway, what's in this thing, mum?” He asked, peeking inside.

“Just some stuff from your room and things I didn't know what else to do with.” She answered him.

“Ah, I see, it's my turn to house some of the family nick-nacks.” Henry laughed, pulling out a few things that had been in his childhood bedroom, smiling fondly at them.

“Oh, I have another call, Henry. I'm glad you love the new house! I'll call you later”

“Thanks, mum!” He replied and hung up with her, then put his full attention on the things in the box. “What's this?” Henry frowned, pulling out an old, round disc that had a bit of weight to it and a worn marking on one side. “Weird.” He mumbled, turning it over and looking for any marks that could tell him what it was, the nerd in him interested and drawn to it.

“I wonder if there's a place I could get you checked out at.” He said, biting his lip and set it down on the kitchen counter, but he wasn't even sure where he would start to look. “I'll have to do some research later on tonight.” He decided, then finished unpacking the box and putting the things inside of it away in various places around his new house in the English countryside.