#like i never healed from anything just took away the source of pain and it happened to be an extremely unlikely source to find again

[gotham-daydreams]

I love. Your series. I haven't had angst hit this good in years.

I like to imagine that y/n did *try* to be a vigilante like the others. They took the sports and martial arts as a way to practice and when they excelled in running, gymnastics, karate, ect- they gave it their first try. And their first attempt went terribly. They went out alone and so young, not that they ever wanted to fight crime to begin with but that is the most logical way to connect to the family. They were severely injured and decided after that they weren't going to be able to try again. They had to heal alone and their worldview changed from "I can be like them once I'm good enough" to "Maybe they can still love me even if I'm not a vigilante." And nobody knew they even thought this or tried at all. y/n wanted to give the family something to be proud about. And they failed.

You. I like you.

I'm glad you're enjoying the series!!!

[Warnings: Angst (sort of?), Blood, Reader Getting Injured, Panic(?)]

(Not proofread. Had a fun time writing this!)

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You tried to catch your breath, gasping for air as you clutching onto your side. You could feel the wound, the pain never even letting you forget it for a second as you stared in front of you.

Two unconscious men laid on the ground. They were about twice your size across all categories, and yet you had managed to knock them out, somehow. You could hardly believe it, and yet you could barely consider this a victory. Not when you heard the sounds of rushing footsteps, and angry shouts that were growing louder as they headed in your direction.

"There they are! AFTER THEM!"

A thug shouted before you could even register how close they had gotten, head whipping around to see the source of the voice, causing you to pale at the amount of thugs behind him.

Before the dread could even settle in, your body was able to react much faster than your mind. Your feet rushed forward before jumping high in the air, kicking off the walls in the alleyway to travel over the thugs, and landing behind them, not wasting a single second to run away.

Various shouts followed behind you, but all you could concentrate on was the path ahead of you. You traveled between various alleyways in hopes of losing the men, but it was like the moment you got close to achieving that, someone would notice you one way or another.

All of the twists and turns were beginning to confuse you, a sense of dizziness falling over you as the world began to spin. You tried to push forward and keep going, promising yourself that you were almost there — even if you didn't know where 'there' was, or what it could mean.

Your legs began to hurt and sting as you ran, but you kept going, determined to lose these guys before anything else. Promising yourself that it would be smooth sailing from there, and yet just when you noticed that you hadn't run into a thug in a while-

Your face met the pavement.

Was that... blood-?

The fall was far from soft, with the rough ground scratching at your legs and further opening your wounds. Dragging its rough claws against your skin, and making your head feel like it was hit with a brick or mallet.

You hissed, wincing from the pain, as you look at the hand that had been holding your side this whole time. The sight made you pause.

"Find that little twerp! Kill them for all I care! Just FIND THEM!"

A thug, presumably the leader, shouted out suddenly. Causing you to quickly scramble up from the ground, and bite your tongue as you began to run again.

Holding your side, all you did was hope and pray for the best.

Unfortunately, another shout sounded from behind you, and before you knew it a thug appeared in front of you. Without thinking, you quickly slid under him by passing in between his legs, and managed to continue running. Your heart beating against your ribs, nearly breaking them with how hard it pounded. Yet soon, it was the only thing you could hear.

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

You rushed past another thug, breathing heavily as your feet slamming on to the concrete. Hardly keeping you up right, but just trying to fling you forward.

Yet, another thug managed to get the jump on you.

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

You were slammed face first into a wall, the impact was so harsh that no sound managed to escape you. All you could do was cough out blood as your struggled in the thug's hold, your gloved fingers clawing at the hand that held your throat.

He squeezed, and more blood came spilling out as you choked.

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

Ba-dump

You couldn't hear what the two thugs in front of you were saying, ears ringing and filled with your deafening heart beat. Your vision was getting blurry now, and even if you couldn't make out much, you could see how their scowls shifted into smirks. The thug's grasp on you tightening, causing you to struggle even more.

The looks they gave you was nothing short of terrifying. Pure malice and bloodlust stared at you, and all you could do was try to hide your fear. Knowing you'd see their faces again in your nightmares.

Thump

Thump

Thump

You trembled as your struggling increased.

Your heart hammered against your chest as your eyes widened, the realization dawning on you as you saw one of them adjust the hold they had on their bat. With the one choking you, winding back his fist, his expression darker than even the shadows of Gotham.

You were going to die here.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

You became frantic. Aiming for anything else you possibly could, as you threw various punches and kicks. Hardly even noticing how your poor efforts were only further irritating the men. Yet that was the least of your concerns.

You scratched at his arm, kicked his chest, tried to go for his eyes. Anything. Anything you could possibly reach, you tried to aim for. Your instincts kicking into high gear as you fought, and fought, and fought.

But at the end of the day, you were just a kid fighting against two grown adults.

You never stood a chance.

You were going to die here.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

... You don't remember much after that.

You could only recall hurriedly running up the stairs that were attached to the side of an apartment building, and could remember how you even got shot in the leg on the way up, but managed to carry on anyway, despite the wound and the new pain it brought.

You vividly remember just narrowly making a jump to another rooftop, completely out of breath. Adrenaline pumping through your viens so hard, and rushing so fast, that even as you fell into a dumpster, you still could hardly feel the pain. All you could remember after that, was darkness surrounding you as you slowly closed your eyes. Having tried to fight off sleep, but ultimately failing.

Even when you did come to, you were still in that dumpster, and the sun still having yet to rise. The smell of trash and blood was so awful, that no words could describe it. Though the smell was also so strong that you could barely smell it, at the very least. You couldn't focus, and everything felt fuzzy for a while as you just laid there.

You looked down at your hand, only to sigh softly. Right, you were still bleeding. Amazing.

Pain was all you could feel, but you knew you'd have to get up, especially if you didn't want to risk anyone finding you and mistaking you for a corpse. Let alone if someone from your family had found you now.

What would they even say? Would they even be able to look at you, after such a terrible first attempt? After you did so poorly, despite having tried to prepare for this so much, on your own? For them?

... What would Bruce say? What would he do?

..... You reluctantly got up. Your body hating you for it immediately, and that was made incredibly clear as pain shot through each and every inch of your body. Yet you still managed to push on, and by some miracle, was able to get out of the dumpster.

You felt as awful as you looked, that much you could tell, but tried to not think about. Walking — which was actually limping because of a certain wound you had — felt like a chore, but you toughed it out as you made your way through Gotham.

Before anyone could really see you, by yet another miracle, you were able to come across a small clothing store that was still open, as some clothes were still hanging outside.

You didn't bother looking for an employee or anything as you just grabbed the biggest hoodie you could find, and took it. You didn't care about the color too much, or any patterns or prints it might've had. All you knew was that it could cover most of your wounds for now, and help keep your identity hidden.

Shaking your head, you just pushed your thoughts to the side. You didn't need to think about that right now, especially not when you were injured. So you wouldn't. You didn't.

So, you slipped it on, but not before leaving some money behind by leaving it tapped on the door from the inside. A small note attached to it reading 'For the hoodie,' and nothing else. After all, you weren't actually trying to steal anything, and you didn't want to give anyone the impression that you were starting. You didn't want to think about what Bruce would do or say if he thought that, let alone the others.

You continued to walk, vaguely remembering where you could get supplies to help yourself, and heading towards the store. Ignoring all the weird looks people would give you when you passed them by, or noticed the trail of blood you were leaving behind. Their stares made you nervous, but you kept going. The humiliation settling in, and making a home for itself in you, as your chest felt heavy.

It's like they were cursing you with their eyes, and damning you to hell.

... The walk was fine for the most part. Painful, yes, but at this point you were already getting a little used to it. So you just moved along, and made your way into the store once you finally reached it.

For your own sake, you tried to be quick about it and grabbed what you needed. A first-aid kit never hurt, but you made sure to grab some other things as well.

So, you got to work and patched yourself up to the best of your ability. Remaining quiet all throughout as you tried to focus and concentrate. Using what you knew, you were able to decently take care of yourself — even if your stitching could use some work, it didn't look too horrible. Removing the bullet in your leg was another story, and though it was difficult, you managed.

Hospitals were out of the question since it'd be all over the news and your family would surely find out. Alfred was also part of the family, so allowing him to help you — let alone see your condition, was also out of the question. You'd just have to take care of this yourself. No one had to know.

Regardless, once you had everything, you paid, and quickly made your way up the stairs that was alongside another apartment building. This time you didn't climb all the way up, and instead stopped somewhere in the middle, and decided to patch yourself up there. Not wanting to risk going too high for your family to see you if they happened to pass by, but also not being too low for any thugs to see you and either finish the job, or put an end to your suffering.

So the middle seemed like the best option for now, even if you did risk some poor civilian seeing you and your horrible state. It was a risk worth taking compared to the other options you had, you thought as much at the time anyway.

Sunrays peaked inbetween the buildings, and lit up your tired and pained eyes. The sky shifted from its darker hues to much lighter ones. With morning birds singing their songs, and more people beginning to wake up and start their days.

Finally, the bleeding was beginning to stop, and all you could do was sigh in relief as you leaned against the wall, and looked to the side. Exhausted beyond belief, and feeling the weakest you've ever felt, but still somehow alive.

You stayed there for a while, just silently admiring as the night turned into day. Dried blood and bandages covering you, pain still evident but it was beginning to die down now. To think you'd make it to sunrise, it was almost unbelievable considering you had nearly died one too many times tonight. Your luck having made it possible to even get this far.

Maybe you'd cry, but it didn't feel right to do so. The pain you felt was enough of a reminder of your failure. Your current state was enough of a reality check.

You weren't like your family, that much was clear.

You just weren't cut out for this. You weren't slow, but you were sloppy. You weren't weak, but you weren't strong enough. You had skill, but you lacked proper technique. You had plans, but your execution was poor. You needed to train, you needed practice and have proper guidance, but where would you even go for that? Who could you go to? If you went to your family at this point, and found out about last night...

You couldn't do what they managed to accomplish every night. Even on your first attempt, you couldn't even manage to do half of what they could. You were reckless, and ultimately overestimated your own abilities despite knowing this wouldn't be easy, and ended up underestimating your opponents. It nearly got you killed, and had you not managed to get yourself out of that situation, you would've died.

You had gotten lucky with so many things last night, and if you were to do this every night like your family, you couldn't just depend on luck. You couldn't have a repeat of last night. You'd surely die that way.

You didn't want to think about what they'd say, the thought alone was painful enough.

Sighing, you just looked away from the sun, and up at the sky, watching as the colors continued to shift.

You wanted to do this on your own to prove yourself. To prove you could do what your family did, and show that you had something to offer. That you could do amazing things and help out too, but you fell flat. You couldn't even handle a group of thugs — how would you be able to handle anything else? What about robberies? Kidnappings? Murders? What about theft, or things dealing with that? How would you deal with anything else if you couldn't even handle the lowest guys in Gotham?

That's the thing, you wouldn't be able to.

If you couldn't even handle a few thugs, you wouldn't be able to do much else. Not at your current level anyway, but how long would it take you to improve? To get better? To be on the same level as your family? To stand by them, and know you were apart of something?

... Maybe you really weren't cut out for this.

To think you once dreamed of standing beside them, helping them, and most of all — making them proud as you held your own weight and then some. Making Gotham a better place right by their side.

It seems so silly now, and maybe that's because it was.

You were hopeless from the start.

Your heart felt so heavy in your chest, the realization causing the organ to squeeze, but you just let it be, and sat with it.

There were other ways you could grab their attention. Other ways that didn't include throwing yourself at death time and time again, and praying you'd live to see another sunrise. This was just... a bump in the road, but you'd have other opportunities! You could do other things to grab their attention and — and maybe you'd even make them proud in the process.

Yeah, there were still other things you could do. You couldn't give up now!

Sure, being a vigilante didn't work out, but that's okay! You'd just have to find something else, it's alright. You'd find something, you were sure of it. You'd find something and be so good at it that they'd have to acknowledge you — hopefully.

You could work something out. After all, there were countless other things you could do besides being a vigilante! Surely one of those things could grab their attention, and maybe if you just worked hard enough and perfected it so much, that they'd acknowledge you — and most of all? Be proud of you.

You'd show them that you had a place in this family, without a mask. You'd show them. You'd prove yourself to them, you would. You will!

Though to start, you'd make your way back home, and just keep what happened last night to yourself. You'd form a plan, think of something, and see it out til the very end. You'd show that you could do great things too besides protecting Gotham from Villians and thugs. That maybe someday, you could make a difference too.

So, with a new hope and dream in your heart, stood up and began making your way down the steps. The sun rising along with your own determination to start on this new path. Making your way back to the Manor, unaware of the misfortune to befall you.

Sometimes, no matter the effort, some things just aren't meant to be. You still had yet to learn that lesson at the time, and even when you eventually would, they'd ruin that too.

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 11)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E for Explicit.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

“Adam, for your transgression, you will be dealt with accordingly. For now, you are dismissed.” 

Adam’s voice and demeanor had become so grating to you that you actively blocked out the bitching that followed. You weren’t sure if, when he’d finally stopped having a foul-mouthed tantrum, a lot of time had passed or not. 

It didn’t matter when you were blessed with near silence at last. A slip of harsh gold out of the corner of your eye led you to believe that Adam’s lackey had followed him out. 

“Emily, please follow.”

“But Sera…” 

“No harm will come to her here. She just needs time.”

There was no need to look up, as the fluttering of Emily’s wings were now telltale in spite of how little you’d known her. 

“Go on.” 

You hadn’t seen her go, but it was like all the energy in the air had been sucked out as she left you behind. In her stead was a still, oppressive atmosphere where anxiety lingered to crawl up your spine the longer you sat in it. 

Sera was staring down at you. 

“Why…” Your voice was hoarse, even if you hadn’t been screaming or sobbing as you wanted to. 

Swallowing back the thickness that had built in your throat physically hurt. An errant thought that it shouldn’t (nothing should hurt anymore) passed you by. 

“Why am I here?” You looked up, staring back at Sera. 

The Angel considered you for a long moment. 

“Your place here has been ordained by the Father, a privilege bestowed upon you for your act of service.” 

The words from her lovely mouth didn’t make sense for so long that you almost asked the Seraphim to repeat herself. Your eyes narrowed as your gaze turned roundabout, as if whatever could make sense of this was somewhere in your surroundings. 

“I… Wait, I’d have thought that…” Head shaking, you implored Sera again with your eyes. “What service?”

“You delivered upon the world Christ’s opposing force through your union with —” Here, you saw Sera’s long throat flex with the effort of swallowing.

“Lucifer.” You finished, watching and confirming as Sera’s frame twitched that just the mention of the Devil made this powerful force uncomfortable. 

It was odd, but didn’t take away the pain that just mentioning his name brought. You felt as if a great gaping hole had been punched through your chest, taking with it all your vital organs and the power of your lungs.

Impressions of his anguished face and the sound of Charlotte crying were permanently etched in your mind. You bit down on your tongue, lest you scream your grief. 

It felt like they had died and not you. 

“I’ll never see them again.” Your head fell into your hands as you were overcome. “I barely got to hold my own baby.”

Sera sighed deeply, inching toward the War Table adjacent to you both. 

“I understand that leaving people behind can be painful.” Her great arms reached over the table, motioning until light rose from the board and took on fantastical shapes. “But time heals all.” 

Instead of comfort, her wisdom made you sniffle. You rubbed your eyes like a child to prevent the steady rise of tears threatening to escape. 

Through the blur, you saw Sera smile wanly. “You may feel grateful with time. Staying any longer could have led you further astray.” 

That made you pause between shuddering sobs. 

Fuck, you’d been sobbing on the floor of heaven.

Fucking Heaven. 

“W-what?” You asked finally.

Sera’s idle hands continued to create new sources of light and shape. You rose from the floor of cumulus and nimbus on jelly legs and walked toward her, for lack of anything else to do. 

A perfect sphere rose above the table, with little pinpricks of light surrounding it. It could’ve been anything but you had the sense to imagine it was a depiction of Earth. 

“Had you stayed mortal and lived another 10, 20, perhaps 30 years, you could have become susceptible to the enemy’s mindset.” Sera said. “It’s not unthinkable when human beings are often led by their hearts, even if it goes against their best interest.”

Your heart was jabbed with indignation at that.

“Acts of Service can become Acts of Sacrifice if one veers off the path.” She gently swirled around the Earth with one hand, and it fell into a tilt naturally before rotating among the stars. 

Sera eyed you from her peripheral as you stood beside her to watch. “You might’ve grown attached and… denied yourself.” 

“Hold on, please — just…” You closed your eyes after several moments.  “I’m here, in Heaven, because Lucifer asked that I be let up here when I died?” 

“That is correct.” Sera guided the stars in a variety of paths. 

“And you agreed because having his baby was actually a good thing?” You asked. “But how? Why would God want that to happen if the Devil is his enemy?”

“Life is all about balance.” The celestial took on the role of teacher naturally. “Light needs darkness to exist. This is how it has been and will always be, since He created the Heavens and the Earth.”

“Lucifer has gone on too long without an heir - Hell cannot be unmanned should anything happen to its King. To ensure that this would never come to pass, He agreed to certain terms, which have been abided by — despite Lucifer’s constant revisions.”

At that, the Seraphim looked borderline petulant. Her disapproval was clear in the way the many eyes that decorated her wingspan, hair and crown-like halo shrunk into slivered crescents.

“It’s been centuries since he was ordered to conceive a child. Out of Love, the Father bestowed an exorbitant amount of time on him to make it happen. Once you were found and the contract was signed, your place in Heaven was guaranteed as stipulated.” She halted her recital to spare a glance your way.

“His ways can be opaque, but they are always meant to take us in the right direction.” Sera offered after a lull, to dispel the dumbfounded look on your face. You could see the way her lips pursed, as if daring to question that explanation was an affront to her existence. As if what she’d just told you didn’t change your perception so thoroughly that your head was spinning.

Self-preservation no longer being a factor, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, ‘God works in mysterious ways’.” You mocked. “People say that when they don’t know what to say. But you actually work under God, don’t you??” 

“That is a crude way to describe my role here.” Sera responded with reproach. 

“But essentially correct.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “You take orders from Him, clearly.”

The Seraphim’s manicured nails pierced through the infinitely shifting stars, fingers curling into a claw as the line of her mouth grew severe. Her brow downturned as she faced you, irritated. 

“Just like Lucifer took orders from Him, I bet.” The pieces were slotting into place. “Until he… until he… did exactly what he was supposed to.” 

You laughed with disbelief at the revelation, hands coming up to grab at your thankfully unchanged hair. The starlight before you began to dim, falling back into the passive marble of the war table. Sera pivoted rather abruptly, a touch of disquiet in her fractured facade as she took in your dysfunction. 

Her gaze became shifty, and you caught it, but it was the least of your concerns. You were in the middle of a manic breakdown for the second time in less than an hour. 

Lucifer didn’t like to talk about Heaven — that was evident from his stuttering when he first revealed himself to you. So, whether it was out of the goodness of your heart or built-in doormat passivity, you hadn’t discussed the place. Truthfully, you’d thought very little of it as a place and more as a concept, even when the Devil came knocking on your door in flesh and blood. 

It was an uphill battle to calm yourself. You closed your mouth to stop the laughing and coughed at the tickle to your throat. You’d never been good at breathing through your nose. Arms slid down to clutch at your stomach and center yourself, frame slowly easing out of the hyperventilation.  

“So… God damned his own son to Hell and made him into Heaven’s Big Bad for the sake of balance… And he wanted that Big Bad to have a child like He Himself did, also for the sake of balance…” 

‘And Lucifer agreed as long as you got to go to eternal paradise…’

Your summation was stated lifelessly, a knife’s edge away from sarcastic. The big secret to Life was out: it was all a fun little show that God put on for himself to stave off boredom. Even those he held closest weren’t safe from it. 

“An-nd you’ve never ever questioned this?” You asked faintly, a crooked smile of disbelief on your face. “Ever?”

A breeze blew back the hair that had fallen into your face.

Sera was suddenly so much closer in proximity, and you flinched back at the power exuding from her like an aura. 

“We do not question the Father.” The Seraphim’s glower betrayed her true feelings toward you. Yet, instead of continuing to back away from the hostility, you forced yourself to stand in place as best you could. 

It gave you whiplash when Sera’s pinched face relaxed. She straightened up with another deep, deep sigh. The danger that felt like static electricity dissipated from your skin, but you held onto the edge of the war table regardless. 

The light show had gone off as quickly as it was turned on. You felt its loss of warmth as sharply as you’d felt Emily’s. 

“Lucifer was unable to fully grasp the Great Purpose.” Sera was imposing as she straightened to her fully height and towered above you once again. “He questioned everything, and for it he Fell.” 

“And I would suggest,” The Seraphim glared at you as if you were an insect she wanted to crush. “that you do not emulate his sin. For the sake of your immortal soul.” 

***

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[tarotwithavi]

Letter from your soulmate

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.

Masterlist

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Pile 1

My lovely apple pie,

As I sit here, pen in hand, my heart overflows with emotions for you. I want you to know that I understand how incredibly challenging and exhausting life has been for you lately. I can feel your pain, and it pains me deeply too. I yearn to be there for you, to hold you close, and to be your source of strength and comfort. Every tear you shed echoes in my soul, and I wish I could wipe them away. The distance between us feels like an insurmountable obstacle, but please believe me when I say that I would cross oceans and traverse mountains just to be by your side. However, I also realize that now might not be the ideal time for us to fully come together. We both need to heal, to mend the wounds of the past, so that we can create a love that is pure, unburdened by old hurts.

Always remember that even though we might not physically be together, I am there with you in the depths of my heart, forever connected in the 5D. In moments of doubt or despair, recall the strength of our love and how much you mean to me. You are more precious to me than words can ever express. I confess that my love for you is so profound, it sometimes scares me. My protective instincts arise because I cannot bear the thought of anything or anyone causing you harm. And yet, I know I must let you be, let you experience life's journey and growth, but please know that my love is unwavering.

As time passes, and we heal, I hope we can build something magical together, something that surpasses all expectations of love and happiness. Until then, I'll be waiting, cherishing every moment we've shared, and dreaming of our beautiful future together.

With all my love and devotion,

Pile 2

My Dearest creampie ,

I hope this letter finds you well, though my heart feels heavy knowing that you're not taking proper care of yourself. Witnessing you neglect your own well-being pains me deeply, and I can't bear to see you hurting, physically or emotionally. Please know that I'm here for you, always ready to lend a listening ear or a comforting embrace. I understand that you might be going through a tough time, and your anger is justified. However, I plead with you not to direct that anger towards your own body. It's a vessel that carries your beautiful soul and deserves to be treated with love and care. Take a moment to breathe, to pause, and let the anger subside. Embrace the world's beauty, for there's so much joy and wonder waiting for you.

Just today, I took a leisurely walk and stumbled upon the most enchanting garden. Butterflies danced around, birds sang sweet melodies, and the fragrance of blooming flowers filled the air, blessing the entire place with serenity. In that moment, my heart longed for you to be there by my side, your gentle touch as I lay my head on your lap, listening to you speak passionately about the things you love. You are the light in my life, and I cherish every moment we share. I love you with all my heart, and my affection for you grows with each passing day. You deserve all the love, happiness, and beauty that this world has to offer. And one day, I promise to show you just how much I love and adore you in every way possible.

Please take care of yourself, my love, for your well-being means everything to me. I'll be here, holding you close in my thoughts, sending you all the love and support you need. Remember that you're never alone in this journey, and I'll always be here, ready to walk beside you, hand in hand.

With all my love and devotion,

Pile 3

My dear pumpkin pie

I hope this letter finds you well and fills your heart with warmth. The wait has been long, but I promise it was worth it. You are the missing piece in my life, and I can't wait to finally hold you in my arms. Your patience and dedication have touched me deeply. You've shown me what true love is, and I promise to cherish and protect our bond with all my heart. From the moment we meet, my devotion to you will be unwavering, and my love for you will only grow stronger with each passing day. As I think of our future together, I can't help but smile at the countless adventures we'll embark on. With you by my side, life will be an exciting journey filled with joy, laughter, and love.

In your presence, time seems to slow down, and every moment becomes magical. Your smile brightens even the darkest days, and your laughter is music to my soul. You are the light that guides me through life's ups and downs, and I promise to be your constant support in return. Know that I am here for you, no matter what life throws our way. Together, we can overcome any challenge and savor every beautiful moment that life has in store for us. I can't wait to see the world through your eyes and share my dreams with you. Your dreams are my dreams, and I promise to do everything I can to help them come true. With each beat of my heart, I am reminded of the love I hold for you. It's a love that knows no bounds and only grows stronger with time. You are my everything, and I am forever grateful to have you in my life.

Until we meet, my love, know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers. I eagerly await the day when our souls will finally unite, and we'll begin our beautiful journey together.

Yours forever,

[dailyreverie]

Healing love

A/N: I may have gotten a bit carried away. Enjoy.

@flufftober - Day 9 Love at first sight

Pairing: Poe Dameron x fem. reader

Word count: 1.6K

CW: Reader is a nurse. Mentions of injury, alcohol consumption, bar setting

Flufftober masterlist

You would never catch Poe Dameron at the med bay, not even by mistake.

He’s tough enough - or so he says - to endure a few scratches here and there until he reaches his quarters and fixes all up by himself. To his defense, he does a decent job at it. 

It works perfectly well for Poe, that is until Snap catches him wincing after a mission, the blast he took on his side clearly giving him trouble to even walk down the stairs of his ship. Poe’s claims of rubbing some healing gel on it before bed go unheard by his friend, who lightly pokes his ribs only to get a pained hiss from the pilot. “You’re coming with me or I’ll pierce your lung myself.” Snap demands at the sight of a clearly broken rib.

Unwillingly, Poe begins the walk to the med bay with Snap close behind him to make sure he doesn’t bail. “This is a waste of time, you’ll see,” Poe complains for the thousand time, his never-ending protests reaching deaf ears. The smell of the place is unbearable, like alcohol and medicine even in its precarious state, reminding Poe of one of the reasons why he’s never there.

“Wexley!” A voice greets his friend all of a sudden, and when Poe turns to see the source of it, he’s suddenly forgetting his own name. Snap greets you with a hug an an exclamation of your name matching your happiness, as if you’ve known each other for years. “Is that headache of yours back?”

“Nah, that one’s gone.” He says with a shrug. “Today I’m here for this guy. I don't know if you've met Commander Dameron." Snap motioned towards Poe, who couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement when your gaze met his.

“Poe,” he corrects, extending his hand to meet you. He hadn’t had the chance to meet you, but he’d be a fool not to notice you before. You were one of the newest members, joining the med team as a head nurse, running away from your home planet after an awful invasion; Poe saw you since your very first day when you were following General Organa around base as she showed you the place, and Poe only hoped she would introduce you to him. You did so much as crossing a glance and share a polite smile, but if Poe knew one thing, was to know beauty when he saw it.

Your hand extended to greet him, and Poe couldn't help but be drawn in by the kindness in your eyes. They told a story of resilience and hope, a tale he read like star maps guiding him home. "Alright, Poe, besides the broken rib, does anything else hurt?"

Poe was momentarily taken aback by your quesion. "How do you even know?" he asked, impressed by your intuition. "Do you read minds or something?"

You chuckled, your laughter like a melody contrasting with the sterile environment of the med bay. "No, Poe. I'm just an amazing nurse," you replied playfully, a wink adding a hint of flirtation to your words. With gentle care, you lifted his shirt to inspect his wounded side, your touch sending a warmth radiating through Poe's body that had nothing to do with the pain in his rib.

After that day, Poe found himself looking forward to his check-ups after every mission. It is the best excuse he can find within himself to see you as much as he possibly can, your smile and your delicate fingers always letting him know he was home; he was becoming addicted to it, to laughing at your witty remarks and chatting with you even if just for a couple of minutes, almost to the point of making up injuries if he came back without so much as a scratch.

It was easy with you. Laughing and existing, forgetting about everything for a while doing nothing but being together; a quick check-up, a shared lunch, it doesn't matter. He shares his stories and you share yours and in that, Poe finds a bond in the unspoken, in the way he makes you laugh and the way you make him smile.

It’s not soon after that he started seeing you hanging out with the rest of the Black Squadron members around base: having lunch with Jessika, talking with Karé, laughing at Snap’s bad jokes. Poe can only assume they were teasing him, that his connection to you had become all too apparent to his friends, who were now enjoying the sight of Poe getting flustered by your presence.

He confirmed so one night, when after a long and exhausting mission, the squad gathered at a cantina for drinks and a night away from battles, laughing and having drink after drink to celebrate their latest success. But in the middle of it all, of all the music and laughs, the sound he least expected was your voice.

“I’m sorry I’m so late!” You said loudly, speaking over the music, approaching his table. The rest of the squad cheered, happy to see you, while Poe remained speechless at your appearance. If you looked beautiful under the harsh lights of the med bay, the way you looked out of it was enough to suck all air out of Poe’s lungs. You were out of your usual uniform, your hair was down and relaxed, and somehow, after the long shift you must have had, you glowed with your smile and your joy infecting everyone. “I’m gonna go get the next round, it’s on me for being so damn late.” You walked away before anyone could protest, not before flashing Poe a smile just for him and a soft touch to his shoulder.

Poe couldn't believe the lengths his squad was going to just to tease their Commander. He slammed his hand on the table in mock frustration. “Alright, very funny guys.”

“What are you talking about?” Jess questioned him, shooting him a questioning look just as the rest of his squad did.

“You know what I’m talking about, you invited her just to tease me because you think she makes me nervous, and I’m just telling you it’s not gonna work.”

“Poe, she’s our friend, that’s why she’s here,” Jess said again, trying hard not to laugh.

“Wait… you think we ask her to come just to see you get all flustered? Which is totally not gonna happen.” Snap’s question was filled with sarcasm. “How much do you think about her to even come up with that?”

Poe was speechless and, much to his defeat, a bit flustered. He didn’t know when his world began revolving around you enough to think that everyone else’s did too.

Karé reached for his hand across the table, her touch grounding him in that moment. "Oh, Poe, sweetheart," she said softly, her eyes filled with understanding, "you are in love with her."

Poe's heart skipped a beat as Kare’s words sank in. It was a truth he couldn't deny to himself. To his defense, he was not sure when was the last time he felt that way, but Poe was deeply and irrevocably in love with you. At that moment, he knew that he couldn't keep his feelings hidden any longer. “I think I need to talk to her.”

His squad cheered for him, urging him to go as he downed his drink. Poe found you by the bar, looking at your surroundings as you waited for the drinks, and as your eyes traveled around they found him. Poe felt his heart beating faster at the way you smiled at him.

"Hey," he said, his voice filled with a vulnerability that was new to him.

“Hi,” you replied, your cheeks warming up by his closeness. “Everything alright?”

Poe nodded, his heart pounding like a drum until, he realized, with you he had nothing to fear about. "Actually… do you want to get out of here?"

Before you could respond, Snap appeared behind Poe, carrying the drinks to the table and flashed a knowing smile at the two of you. You replied with a quick nod, silently agreeing to his invitation and letting him guide you outside, only hoping he was there to tell you the same thing you wanted to tell him.

"You know," he began as soon as you were out, his voice soft but sure, "I've been thinking a lot."

"Thinking about what, Poe?" Your stomach erupted with butterflies.

Poe took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "About us. About how I can't stop thinking about you, and about how even though I hate the med bay, for months I’ve been there every single time I’m back from a mission with some pathetic excuse.”

A tender smile graced your lips along with a giggle, and you took a step closer to him. "You hate it?” You asked with false annoyance.

“With my whole being.” Poe laughed, shaking his head. “But I guess what I’m trying to say, is…” In that moment, as Poe saw into your waiting eyes gazing at him, the world around you seemed to disappear entirely, leaving only the two of you. Poe reached out, his fingers gently tracing the contours of your cheek, and he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss against your lips. It was a kiss filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had been building between you.

As you pulled away, still lost in each other's eyes, Poe whispered, "I love you. Since the moment I met you, I love you.”

And you, with all the love and hope in your heart, replied, "I love you too, Poe Dameron."

🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂🚀🍂

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[peachyloveswriting]

Idea could be either Knives or Vash. Humanoid plant reader is the power source for a now abandoned town. Low on energy and weak either Vash comes to heal/free them or Knives comes to take them away.

Been burnt out so this one is super short, sorry.

You Really Stole My Soul - Millions knives

SUMMARY: Abandoned in a town and alone by yourself, Knives comes to the rescue.

He could feel you, the energy inside you fading, something about it felt different to him. It pulled him closer to you, begging for more. This energy was entirely different from anything he'd ever felt before. Only a few times in his life has Knives felt something like this, once at birth, the second after seeing the third independent. What ever it was he was feeling had to be in relation to these two things, there was another independent out there somewhere. Someone that wasn't his brother, that wasn't him, that needs his help. Your pain tugs at his soul, the energetic connection allowing for the channels to flow open freely between the two of you. Through this he can feel your pain, the loneliness that consumes you as you lay in stasis.

When he finds you, the sight of your independent body floating in the container unmoving sends shivers down his spine. You look so much more human than any other power generating plant, he's never seen anything like this before. It sends waves of anger throughout his body, underneath the skin his blood boils. Your home doesn't belong inside that tank and he can feel you steadily slipping away. This only serves to prove how horrible the human race really is, it makes his head reel as he lashes out. His blades fly forward, impaling the glass pane with force.

The acid gushes around his feet, jolting forward he grabs your body before you can fall to the ground. Coming in contact with your skin makes the two of you glow brilliantly, the emotional exchange departs quickly and he's flooded with sadness. Carefully scooping you into his arms with a frown, he turns to walk away. "it's okay now. You're not alone anymore. I'm going to take you home."

Knives swore that from that moment forward he would save you unlike he was able to do for his brother. You would be his shot at redemption, you would be safe with him.

Waking up, you felt lost. Everything around you was unfamiliar save for the last face you saw before you knocked out. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, his bleach blonde hair and pale skin make him glow under the sights above, he looks like an angel. You sat up and he turned to look at you.

"You're awake!" He grabbed your hand with a bright smile. "I'm so glad I'm not alone anymore. I'm Knives." His eyes were a brilliant blue, like the kind you always dreamed of seeing in the skies one day. It was clear when he touched your skin that he was a plant, the designs lit up across both of you and a flood of excitement took you whole.

"How did you find me? Did you escape too?" His hand squeezes yours. He doesn't want to let go, he might never feel the touch of his kind again, you might leave. Even so, leading your question he frowns deeply.

"I never had to escape." You furrow your brows. "I'm not like you. I was never used like you were. It pisses me off that you think like this."

You were the only one that hurt, knowing that you spent your whole life locked away while he was free... Alone. You've been alone for so long. The tears start to pool in your eyes, everything you thought was real was just a lonely dream, you were always the only one.

You cried until you couldn't cry anymore and it hurt Knives to see you so broken like this, if it was him in that position he would have destroyed the world by now. Just seeing you cry reminds him so much of his brother. He tried to push that to the side and explained to you how he had found you and what was going on. From there it took a long time before you were completely okay again but Knives brought you back to health.

To him, seeing you at your healthiest, he was resting his eyes upon one of the most beautiful beings in the world. He'd never seen something of the likes of you before, unlike him your natural marks weren't hidden away until the touch of another, they presented beautifully along your skin. Everything about you screamed radiance and light, he savored every bit of it, accompanying you wherever you went.

[hyperactively-me]

Okay so I just found your account and hello??? You’re amazing???? I’m OBSESSED with your king!Simon stuff and I will be binging it immediately.

Do you have any thoughts or can I make a request on a blurb if queen!reader never forgave Simon after his outburst? Like if she just couldn’t get past the hurt of his words and their marriage was never the same?

ho hoh hooo. yeah. let's get down and dirty with this one

(noncanon)

king!ghost x reader -- alternate ending to 'anger' warnings: heavy angst, unhappy ending, hurt/no comfort, don't worry this is NOT canon!!!

Your relationship with Simon, once a haven of stolen kisses and whispered promises, became a haunting abyss of regret and desolation. The walls of the castle echoed with the hollow footsteps of your irreparably broken relationship. Simon's attempts to mend the bridge were met with a cold silence, the wounds of his harsh words refusing to heal.

The only thing was you still loved him. You loved him so much, but how could you trust him again? How would you know that he wouldn't turn against you again, casting you out and disposing you like you were merely a nuisance he had to deal with?

A relentless ache settled in your chest some time ago, refusing to leave. Pain became a constant companion, woven into the very fabric of your existence. The days dragged on like a never-ending slump, always trying your best to avoid him when you could.

News had traveled around the palace staff that you two were no longer speaking, although Simon had tried to multiple times, only for it to end in bitter argument again and again. Those arguments heightened your anxiety, always reminding you that he thinks you're not good enough, which inevitably became your inherent belief. You stepped on the shards of your shattered love, cutting your feet on the remnants of a relationship that had once been your refuge.

Yet, hints of love still lingered in the shadows, and your anguish refused to subside. Or, was it love? Or was it just a longing for things to return back to the way they were? Who knows.

Simon's presence, once a source of comfort, now felt thick with tension. In the times you did have to be around him, you were curt and icy, no matter how many times he tried to talk to you, all in an attempt to shield your wounded heart. You would avoid his gaze, barely even looking at him.

More weeks pass by in a monotonous haze, your love for Simon now transformed into a bittersweet kind of poison. The remnants of his touch, once your lifeline, something you craved, now squeezed at your heartstrings with a vice grip. The ache in your chest persisted, a cruel reminder that apologies alone couldn't mend a broken heart.

One evening, you sat out in your garden, staring at nothing in particular with bags under your eyes from a lack of sleep. You didn't hear Simon approach, his eyes narrowing in on you with regret. He reaches out, a desperate plea in his touch, but you immediately recoil.

Simon pulls away, his face contorted into sorrow and frustration.

"Please, just talk to me," Simon implored.

You swallow thickly, looking away to avoid the intensity of his gaze. That familiar ache in your chest intensifies, a silent scream echoing in your mind.

"I can't keep doing this," Simon admitted, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I miss us. I miss you."

You put up your hand in a 'stop' motion.

"Ghost, please. I can't... I can't go back to the way things were," you whisper, refusing to look up at him.

His eyes, once filled with determination, now mirrored the desolation that defined your relationship. A heavy silence sits between you two.

"I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it," Simon continues, his voice edged with desperation. "I'd do anything to take it back."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in your voice. "Simon, love can't fix everything. Trust has to be earned, and... I don't know if I can ever trust you again. I can't forgive you. You've caused me so much pain."

Simon's shoulders sagged even further, as if the weight of the universe pressed upon him.

But your resolve remained unyielding. The pain of his words lingered, leaving scars that ran too deep to heal with mere apologies. The walls around your heart had become impenetrable.

Simon stood there for a moment, the weight of your words settling over him like a heavy cloak. His face was etched with a mixture of sorrow and regret.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the wind carrying his words, leaving behind a charged silence.

Without waiting for a response, he turned away, leaving you alone in the garden with the echoes of a love that once flourished but now lay in complete and utter ruins.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[wordy-little-witch]

Have some random headcanon bullshit -

Tsams + Tlaes edition

• Earth is now rolling with the disability squad (welcome queen, we love you, sorry you're here). Given that Moon redirected most of her pain receptors to her legs, she now has issues with mobility in her lower back, hips, knees and ankles.

• Solar also has lasting damage from the separation from his Sun (mostly in code hiccups that impact his balance or weight baring on occassion, from a data-loss in transit on top of a... very specifically callibrated virus that ate at some of his code before it was intercepted. You know what happened there and who took it). He uses a forearm crutch on bad days, and has some braces he made that he wears under his pants.

• Sun has some lasting issues from his separation from Moon, too - when the killcode was left behind, the only way to keep it all sort of balanced out to avoid systemic corruption was for Moon to kinda... scrape pieces away to make up for the exchange. He never told Sun about that, assuming his code would self-repair it if it was harmful. It never did. Sunny doesn't really have an aid yet but he really should use one.

• Solar decides that actually ya know what, fuck all of this shit. And he goes into his files, finds the exact heights and weights for both, and sets to welding. Adjustable braces, canes, forearm crutches, and even some blueprints for walkers or wheelchairs Just In Case. Then he takes the finished projects home, buys all sorts or decorative shit, and summons Earth and Sun.

• they all sit together outside and Solar lays out a tarp. There's no reason to be uncomfortable by needing help, he tells them, so this is gonna make the help fun. He hopes. They all decorate and have a good with it. When earth needs a break, they just curl up together and Sun weaves custom straps for them all, picking threads and just... talking.

• the family gets good at reading when Earth is having a Bad Pain Day - due in part to Solar calling it immediately, no nonsense, or Sun clocking it and immediately going into Big Brother Mode - but it also makes the others recognize how Sunny does similar things. Aggressive love.

• Cleo and Muffin become a source of reference too - it's almost hilarious bc the cats are just "no fuck you all we are GOD" but also the MOMENT Sun, Solar or Earth have a twinge? It's immediately a Miette Moment. "No, we must be held, must purr, must cuddle, must HEAL YOU, protecc, LET US LOVE YOU"

• Dazzle and Jack are very excited to help BTW, idek if I should include this bc it feels obvious. They both just kinda ascend out of the woodwork like "hello I love you, need snackies? Snuggles? How help-?"

• CUDDLE! PUDDLES!!

• color coded heat pads/ice packs.

• it's not uncommon at all for Monty to come home and find Solar and Earth draped partially across the side of the pool, mostly submerged, and Sun either half-in/half out, or straight up laying on the bottom. He installed a fuckin incredible heater to it, making the pool an optional hot tub. He just goes "oh, hey, fellas, hey, baby. Need anything?"

• Earth's cane is pink with teal clouds and yellow, lavender, and white stars w/ sparkles. Her crutches are dark green with hearts all over them in colors she associates with family. ((Both have barbie charms on the straps))

• Solar's crutches were going to be a dark gray with neat techno designs, but Jack accidentally grabbed one with paint on his hands, and Solar decided that it was... kinda cute actually. Family hand prints. He only uses one at a time usually, so he trades them out.

• Sun's are all different. He let the kids design one of his crutches ((the reason Jack had paint-hands with Solar's)) and the one from them is kind of... cream? Ish?? With stickers, googly eyes, lopsided smiley faces, rainbows, and a blob that is supposedly a unicorn. His other crutch is sort of like a sunset, light at the top, dark at the bottom, with his favorite constellations scattered throughout. The cane is sparkly gold with red ribbons along the handle.

[its-warm-in-here]

Teeth 2

Well, here we go again! this is still gross, but some people seem to enjoy it so I kept going! If you like it or have any feedback, I'd love to hear it!

Link to Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/its-warm-in-here/741702465482883072/teeth?source=share

Alastor x !DeerDemon! Reader

Warnings: imbalance of power, cannibalism, i guess this falls into vore??

A nervous voice rings like a bell, jerking you back to consciousness. “Where’d you say they were?”

The light above you is bright and blinding on one side. In the other eye, not so much. Every nerve blazes in agony. Your neck is bent at a bad angle, but you give your remaining good leg a kick. Pain. Acute and grinding rips through. Breathing is sharp and your ears ring. Still, you try to focus. Above, uncertain strangers bicker. “Just outside the fence. Its bizarre. There's not many cars around here and it's not like they could have dragged themselves halfway across the Pentagram in that state.” 

“Are you saying someone put them there?”

“Not tryin’ to be discouraging or nothin’, but they look a little ehhh...Roadkill-eysh.”

Hell, you certainly felt like it. 

“The innards are spilling!” another squeaks and giggles, then something pointy jabs into your gut.   

“Not helping, Niffty,” a lower female voice scolded and shooed away the tiny, stabbing demon off. “Still. They’re looking better off than most hell carrion I’ve seen. At least they could get themselves to us before any cannibals came sniffing.” 

You cough and the vision finally comes swimming back to your other eye. Demons of all sorts hover above, the blond one desperately tries to tend to the worst of your wounds but seems to be panicking more than anything while her partner tries to intervene. The air in your chest rattles with each breath as your ribs pop and crack back into place. You try to say something but the only sound you get is a sort of half weeze. Probably have a collapsed lung or something. Fuck that truck driver. Double damn him!  Regeneration never feels good, but at least it didn't take too terribly long, like some sinners you knew. Even if it was agonizing. Give it a day or so and you’d be right as rain, with or without the help of this Hotel Staff. 

That being said, you hoped they knew what they were doing. Healing a broken bone took some time and if they made it worse, that’d just slow you down even more. And you can’t have that. While the strangers fret above, your head lolled to the side. There, in the doorway another figure lingers. It's just a silhouette, you can tell they're tall, but the thing that catches your eye is that impossibly wide, yellow grin. That stands out against the shadows like its glowing. It's so familiar. And unsettling.

Several hands take hold of your limp shoulder and someone starts counting, “On three, okay? One. two. Three!” tears prick your good eye and you can’t stop the scream that rips from your chest but it quickly dies to a whimper. It's painful, debatably than before, but you can  feel your fingers again. Your eyes flutter as you teater on the edge of consciousness. Head falling to the side once more, you let the hotel staff continue tending to the big gash over your hip. 

You can’t hear it over the bickering of your saviors, but the figure in the hall’s mouth opens in what you can only assume is a chuckle by the way their chest flutters. If anything this face looked, for lack of a better word, pleased. With one final leer, that smile swept out of view. Something in you churns. 

“Charlie, I’m gonna need you to keep their leg still,” the only voice with any reason orders. Her partner hops-to in response and two little hands grip the injured leg. “Okay, um, sorry I don't know your name, but this is gonna hurt.” 

It does. Then everything goes black again. 

-----

It happens again when you’re cleaning up after dinner. 

Creole food is great and all, but it uses everything in the kitchen, and it sticks bad on the pan. Niffty was busy with clearing the table and getting the exorbitant amount of dishes loaded into the wash. Besides, with her little arms, she’d end up head first in the big pot. So it fell to you to scrub the oversized dutch oven tonight. You’ve been working on this for a good ten minutes but the remaining fond caked onto the base was just was not giving up. Somehow, you’ve managed to slosh soapy water all up your sleeves and onto the front of your shirt. Cursing under your breath, you apply your best elbow grease to the base of the pot. 

There's the briefest touch at the top of your tail then a quick yank on the hair. You yelp, whirling around. “What the actual fuck-” 

“You know, if you leave it soak, that will be much easier to handle,” the radio demon muses. His gaze is fixed on the bit of hair he’d plucked, rolling it back and forth between his fingers. “And I'd avoid that steel wool. Can't have you ruining my best pot.” 

Scowling, you dry your hands on a soaked apron then put them on your hips. “Well, maybe if the chef took some responsibility to clean up his dishes, I wouldn’t be putting his cookware in danger.” 

The corners of his mouth quirk up and he tucks the tuft of fur into his breast pocket. “I’ve been wondering if you were still interested in continuing our arrangement.” 

Your throat goes dry and hair goes on end. That's a bit to the point. Its not like your last interaction had been dominating your mind or anything. And its not like you’d had some rather... vivid nightmares on the subject. Nothing at all like that. It stirs a mixture of emotions, pained but intrigued. If Alastor is asking after another ‘nibble,’ then he’s been thinking about this too. And that might entail another favor. “I’d be lying if it hadn’t crossed my mind.”

“Excellent. I must say after a meal like that, I'm in the mood for a little... entremet.” 

That makes your head spin. This cant be like last time. Not with so many rules that hadn't been set, too many boundaries that could be tested. Not with him so smug. “Oh, o-of course.” He’d been respectful thus far, but that didn't mean he wouldn’t pull something nasty in the second encounter. “But I need some ground rules, Alastor,” you step back, bumping against the counter and he closes in. Cornered again. Your ears drop and he can't look more pleased. Heart hammering, you put on your best smile. “You get your palette cleanser but I pick where you bite. And you stop when I say.”

He hums and straightens himself to his full, towering height. “Sounds like a deal.” Green swirls around his extended hand and dread fills your belly. 

Quickly, you snap your hand up, pinky held aloft between you. “N-no deals. This is a promise. Alright?” 

Alastor’s eyes narrow as he contemplates your offer. This is a bad idea, right? Before you can consider the consequences, his pinky locks with yours. “Promise.” There's a rush of energy and a small burst of green. He lets go, rolling his shoulders as he tucks his hands into the small of his back, and leaving you dumb founded, staring at your empty hand. “Give that pot another scrub then meet me upstairs.” 

---

There's no answer when you knock. Briefly you think to wait in the hall, but the voices of Husk and Angel echo up the nearby stairwell. So you duck in, surprised to find the door unlocked. Once more, you are greeted by the outside air contrasted by the roaring warmth of the hearth. You linger near the door, as you haven’t been officially invited in. 

Swallowing, you stare up at the mounted antlers and taxidermied bones. In another afterlife, that could have been you. Peeled apart as some trophy for a cannibalistic freak. Thank whatever power that dedicated hell for making you more durable than his normal prey. Still, it did warp your relationship with the Radio Demon. He probably would never have even looked your way were it not for the strange coincidence that you were also a deer. But didn't that make you feel just a little special? Like you had something in common with one of the most powerful being this side of Pentagram City? And maybe you could utilize some of that power if you stay in his good graces...

Even if he only wanted you for meat. 

You shake your head and rip your gaze from the dead animals and to further into the room. For a moment, you consider taking the seat from last time or putting on some jazz, but there’s a gust of wind from the forest that makes you turn. Pentagram City might be a bustling, chaotic, absolutely insane metropolis, but it was hardly known for its great outdoors. 

Air moves through the trees, whistling a bit as it blows past the opening to Alastor’s room. Just beyond, there's a small table with a single chair and past that, the forest expands to a blue-green bayou. It's enticing. The grass sinks into the marshy ground beneath your hooves as you step into the impossible bit of nature contained in the Hotel. Cautiously, you step over to that little table and rest your palm against the tree. It certainly feels like a real cypress tree, the bark is rough and the tight pine needles are prickly in your hand. Above your head, lights like fireflies dance and illuminate the underside of the tree and the wet smell of moss fills your nose. You take a deep breath. Beyond the tree, the bayou stretches out with more cypress and cat tails. Much of the soft ground gives way to murky blue water, but you can see where a path would lead through the trees. In the distance some animal is shifting through the underbrush. This was much more pleasant than the foyer. Maybe you could convince Alastor about adding one of these to your room. 

That is, if he offered another favor for a favor. No need to push too fast. Push too hard. Besides, you had more pressing matters than asking after a backyard. 

“Well, you certainly know how to make yourself at home.” 

You jump nearly a foot in the air and whirl around. At the one seat, Alastor sips an after dinner espresso, eyes closed and legs crossed like he’d been there the whole time. Hell, maybe he had been here. Quickly, your smile returns along with a bout of anxiety. “It is lovely here. Can you blame me for getting swept up in the view?” Alastor opens his eyes just a bit to look you up and down. Then he rises, coming to your side. His hand rests on your shoulder and he turns you to face the cat tails. “Did you make it? Or is this some doorway to another place?” 

“A bit of both,” he says cryptically as you admire the slow moving current. “Have you thought about what treat you're giving me today, my deer?” His hand slides from your shoulder to the base of your neck, nails pricking at the nape. 

You scoff, and snap to face him out of his grasp. Alastor’s gaze that had been fixed on the back of your head locks onto your eyes instead. “Are you always this straight forward with your food or am I just lucky? Besides, there was no time limit on our little promise. Maybe I'd rather wait for tomorrow instead. Or even next week.” 

A staticky chuckle rattles from his chest and his hand comes to trace the line of your jaw instead. Your heart skips a beat. “Oh, I highly doubt that. Not when you’re so eager to please.”  He gives your cheek a sharp pinch. 

“Of course,” you fire back and lace your fingers behind your back. “I like pleasing everyone.” You strut past him, ears straight forward and tail aloft then take a seat on the little metal table. Confidently, you cross your legs at the ankle and lower your gaze at him. This can’t be too easy, or Alastor would lose interest in the game. “You’re not so special Mr. Radio Demon.” 

His head tilts and static blares in a sort of question. “A bit bold of you deer. Putting on a show for me, hmm?” 

You bite your lip and taste iron. “Please, who would ever need to put on a show for you?” Alastor’s face tightens, trying to discern your lie or maybe he’s just insulted. Either way, even if you’re new to this performance thing, it was having some sort of effect on the demon. “So, I was thinking-” you point to your arm- “here-” you point to your thigh- “Or here.” 

Alastor’s eyes light up. “Oh-ho, multiple choice!” He gives your arm a pat. “Let's start here.” Suddenly, something strong wraps around your waist and you're lurched from the table to a chair that appears from thin air. The momentum almost makes it topple to the marsh. You lurch forward, grabbing the table and landing hard on the glass. Before you can right yourself, that strange force grips around your wrist, trapping it against the table.  

Then the jazz kicks on. 

And there's a knife. 

It's a quick flick of the silver blade and a ribbon of flesh is sliced away from your inner arm. “Ah-!” the scream dies in your throat as he pops the bit of you into his mouth. Can't interrupt his morsel, where were your manners? With teeth grit and fist balled you bite out, “-ah, little warning next time?” Alastor side eyes you, appreciating the bite with hums of enjoyment instead of an answer. The cut is painful, but clean. As if he'd sliced a filet off your forearm. You take in a sharp breath. There isn't much blood and the wound is quick to start patching up, but it's definitely deeper than the last time. Around your wrist, a shadow keeps your arm locked in place. It feels like it might give if you pulled hard enough but you keep your arm still the best you can. 

“Tasty,” he remarks and your stomach flutters as he lines the blade up for another go. There's more warning but not enough and you bite down on the inside of your cheek. He pauses a moment watching you wince, smirking at your reaction. This time, he slices your flesh into a few pieces using a knife and fork. Taking his time. 

Savoring this.  

With each bite, you stare intently, a tight lipped smile fixed in place. Each bit of you slipping down Alastor's throat made your abdomen tighten with something between nausea and excitation. While this was different from the last time, like an after dinner snack instead of a quick exchange, you can't help but feel a twinge of resentment. Last time had been close. Intimate. You want to feel his teeth again. 

“It's rude to stare, deer,” red eyes meet your own before turning down and taking another cut, this time off your bicep.  

Intimidated, your gaze snaps to the blade, watching his knife cut a good inch into your arm then glide down along the bone. He must notice your struggling to keep still, as another black tentacle loops around the hollow of your elbow. This is the most he's taken. Red. Dripping. It hurts, more than the others but you can't tear away as Alastor flays the skin from his prize. Had you not known better, the muscle of your arm might have been appetizing. Like a cut of flank steak in need of a good seer. 

And Al finishes it in one bite.

“Enough,” it sounds more confident than you feel. His fingers click and the hold of your arm lets up. You scramble back, running your fingers up and down the new skin. It smooths and prickles at your touch. Luckily you’re not prone to scarring. “That was a bit much for a palette cleanser, don't you think?” you snap. Chills still run up your arm and where he cut tingles like a limb that had fallen asleep.

He dabs his mouth on a handkerchief embroidered with a big ‘A.’ It comes back with a blot of red. “And you handled it surprisingly well,” Alastor muses with a note of pride. “Not many are quite so calm under my knife.” 

“Yeah, and not many patch quite this quick,” you fire back, goosebumps dot the flesh, the new nerves flaring in the cool air, but you drop your arms to your sides and approach the little table once more. Anyone else would be bleeding all over his nice grass. “Does our agreement still stand? Favor for a favor?” 

“Questioning my integrity as an overlord?” he jabs with a hint of sarcasm, and takes a long, loud sip from his expresso, making you wait as he finishes the drink. “You are a bit of a spit fire today. What is it you’re after, my deerest?” Your tongue suddenly feels thick and dry in your mouth. It had been so perfect in your brain, just ask him to fix your problem. A simple intimidation from the Radio Demon and you’d be off the hook and out from under that Shylock’s thumb. Then these freaky visits would be over. Huh. Or even ask about having a portal to this realm in your own room. Heaven knows how much you missed the fresh air. Just say something. Alastor regards you with glee as your brain desperately tries to concoct exactly how to answer him. “Now, now, don’t think about it too hard on it, you’ll have steam coming off your ears any moment.” 

You blink twice at his smug grin, when the request hits you. Just the thing to make the sinner squirm and keep him guessing without giving away too much of yourself. Just the thing to stay in the game. “No, I know what I want.” 

“Hmmm?” He thinks he’s winning. 

“Flesh,” the words feel repellent on your tongue, but you smirk through it, “I want to try it. Yours, to be specific.” 

The music stops with an abrupt scratch of the record.

[one-winged-dreams]

Heart Hands

ship: seth x anya source: mouthwashing word count: 725

I know I said the maid uniform thing wasn't canon but I'm starting to have second thoughts.

This is a fix it AU where everyone except fuckface comes back alive, so obligatory mentions of Daisuke and Bee and Curly and Dae.

tag list: @dearly-beeloved @adoredbyalatus @kylilah

“One more! Just one more, please!” 

“Anya…”

Taking the new cleaning job itself had been a… sacrifice was a word, at the cost of dignity. But Seth couldn’t deny how well it paid, almost ridiculously so. Enough for him and Anya not to have to worry about stability after the whole Pony Express debacle. 

Something they tried not to think too hard about. 

Though this thought currently lingered at the back of Seth’s mind, and it always did whenever he considered the semantics, Anya seemed preoccupied with something considerably more light-hearted.

If Seth had known wearing a maid dress would bring her this much joy, he would have bought one from a cosplay website a long time ago. A thought came to mind that it was probably because of the uniform gimmick that the job paid so well, but that was quickly cast aside as Anya gestured at him.

“Make a cute pose! You look adorable, just one more picture!” she urged with an amount of gusto that Seth had missed seeing in her. She looked so happy…

“Like what?” he mumbled sheepishly, rubbing his arm and casting his gaze off to the side in a manner that must have been as cute as Anya wanted because Seth heard the sound of a photo being taken. He glanced over at Anya, who waved her hands dismissively.

“That one didn’t count, just- just make a heart with your hands or something.”

Even if it DID count, Seth didn’t have the heart to deny her. She had grown so much since they had gotten back to Earth. It had taken a long time, an extensive, ugly struggle of healing that they struggled with even now. 

But Anya was smiling again. 

She had started going for runs from time to time, just like she used to. Seth wasn’t good at keeping up, but she always appreciated the gesture. Maybe someday she’d even be able to go by herself, but until then Seth was happy to accompany her. More than happy. He’d do ANYTHING to make her smile. Even if it meant sitting through painful reality TV sessions, which was horrifically dawning on him that he was starting to enjoy.

So he sighed, making a heart with his hands and giving a fond smile that was more than just for the picture.

“So cute! Okay okay, I’m satisfied. I’ll let you get the work now, don’t want to be late on your first day,” Anya peered at her phone screen, smiling in satisfaction at the picture she had taken.

“Alright. I’ll text you when I get there, okay?” Seth was always looking to keep Anya’s heart at ease, in any sort of manner. She called him a good boyfriend for it, but he felt like there was only so much he could do for her. 

Other than THAT anyway. 

But they’d never think about that again.

“Okay, be safe. Have a good day.” Anya punctuated with a hug. She always gave the most warm and inviting hugs, but then again she had nearly sole touching privileges and vice versa. 

Except for Daisuke, but honestly, Seth hadn’t met anyone quite as easy to get along with as him until the Tulpar incident. Seth briefly wondered if he’d ever get to meet that girlfriend he was always eagerly yapping about. It was always something about “Bee” for every occasion, and being a romantic at heart, Seth always took comfort in the way he talked about her. It made him appreciate what he had with Anya even more, in a sense. 

Now that they were back, he’d have to ask about putting together a small couples get-together. Maybe even go see Curly and his girlfriend. 

But for now, he realized he had lingered in Anya’s hug for a few beats longer than expected.

“You too… Love you,” Seth mumbled before reluctantly pulling away.

Anya’s expression softened. She always seemed to melt a little whenever he said those words.

“Love you too.” 

As they separated, Seth approached the front door, hearing Anya’s footsteps in the opposite direction.

He paused.

“Hey Anya.”

“Yeah?”

Seth turned, seeing Anya do the same. He flashed her a sheepish smile and a wink, making a heart with his thumb and forefinger.

“WAIT WAIT WAIT, LET ME GET A PICTURE OF THAT TOO!”

He should have expected as much.

[scribeforchrist-blog]

Dealing With It All Through Prayer

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

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+ 1 Corinthians 13:3 If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

=========================

VERSE OF THE DAY

========================

+ Proverbs 3:27 Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due when it is in your power to do it.

=========================

** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM BEAUTIFUL

I AM A PRAYING WARRIOR

I AM GIVING IT ALL TO GOD

I AM RELEASING IT TO GOD

========================

READ TIME: 8 minutes and 14 Seconds

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THOUGHTS:

=======================

  Sometimes, it's hard to let go of pain; I can say that I have had my fair share of pain, and it's hard to let go of things that have happened because when these things happen, we don’t know how to handle them. Most of the time, we try our way of handling it, and I can say I never handled it too well until I gave my life to Christ.

    I realized how I handled it wasn’t the best way, and he showed me how to handle every piece of bitterness and malice. It can be hard to deal with if it's not dealt with in His way; a lot of us will drink our hurt away, or we will have an intimate relationship with someone to help with the pain, and pain is pain.

    Some people say losing a relationship is the hardest. Some say losing a family member or someone to death is the hardest. I can't say what's the hardest, but I can say that on any level, pain is something we must learn to give to God, and we must believe he can take care of it all.

 Mark 9:17-19 a man in the crowds answered and said, “Teacher, I brought You my son, who has a mute spirit. 18 And wherever it seizes him, it throws him down; he foams at the mouth, gnashes his teeth, and becomes rigid. So, I spoke to Your disciples, that they should cast it out, but they could not.”

  This man one day brought his son to the disciples, and the boy was muted and thrown down, foaming at the mouth and gnashing his teeth. The disciples couldn’t save him. And just a side note: sometimes, what we are dealing with can't be dealt with immediately through prayer. We must fast to help us gain the power from God to remove certain sins.

   These disciples didn’t know how to relieve this boy from his paradox of pain and suffering, but this is just like our lives. We will take the time to go to other people who don’t know us instead of the one who can and know us very well. God can save us through and from anything. We might think he can't, but he can.

    We can spend our days listening to people about our lives and realize that no psychiatrist, therapist, or doctor can heal us like Jesus. Don’t get me wrong, the people out there can help us, but we can't put all our trust in them; we must always put our trust in God and wait upon him. Jesus knows us so well; he knows the very hair on our heads, he knows our thoughts, he knows it all; some of us go to other people and hear their summary of who we are, but Jesus knows us; all we must do is believe he can heal us from our pain.

 See that man went and took his son to the disciples, and the disciples couldn’t do it, then he took his child to the source, which is Jesus; Jesus is the source to everything running from and to our life; pain is something we have to allow him to deal with in our lives because if we deal with it, we won’t ever be free until we say enough is enough, until we say we need true healing we won’t find it in this world.

  Verse 21-23 So, He asked his father, “How long has this happened to him? “And he said, “From childhood. 22 And often he has thrown him into the fire and the water to destroy him. But if You can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.”23 Jesus said to him, you can believe; all things are possible to him who believes.”

     The Father said if you can have compassion on us, Jesus will always see us through our dark problems. It might feel like we are at the end of our rope, and no one cares. Still, Jesus do , all we must do is go to him and be honest with our emotions, and that’s where some of us lack, and we don’t try to be honest with him. If I lie to him or pretend, I'm okay, that wouldn’t be okay that’s not helping my situation . Jesus wants us to be authentic with our emotions; tell him if you're feeling down or angry and full of bitterness. He will handle the rest.

   Yes, he already knows, but it's something about being raw with him and saying how you feel puts you closer to him. And the man said, please have compassion on us, help us, and Jesus said if you believe all things are possible, we might feel now it's not possible, but when we are going through something, it feels this way, but we must know Jesus has our best interest in mind.

 Verse 24 immediately, the child's father cried out and said with tears, “Lord, I do believe; help me with my unbelief!”

    He cried out and said, help me to believe he didn’t and couldn’t believe it, but when he admitted he had a problem, he admitted

he couldn’t believe it but desperately wanted to. It made a world of difference. We have to admit we have a problem; we have to come to terms that something is wrong; we can’t continue to stay in this same mindset for all these years; we can’t stay in this same mindset of being broken because the more we stay in that place, the more we give the enemy a position in our life, we have to start letting go of the mindset that if I stay here, I’m safe & we aren’t we are only safe in God.

  ***Today, we learned about how pain can affect our mind; we learned how when we deal with things, we can only deal with them on a surface level, but God sees our pain; he sees how much we hurt and it hurts him to see us in this way because we are his children but a lot of times we won’t be authentic with God, this man let Jesus know he needed to believe and some of us whether stay in the mindset we are in instead of giving it to God.

  Pain is something we all will face, whether it’s physical or emotional, we must give this to God; we must understand he will help us through it, and if we don’t deal with it while it’s small, our pain can turn to grief, bitterness, and other emotions. When they become this big, they might feel like there’s no way we can overcome them, but God wants us to know we can overcome anything and everything. Many of us think that there's no way God can handle our pain, but God has seen pain before, and even though situations are unique and different, God has seen it all; he’s the expert we need to handle it all. Today, if you're in pain, don’t hesitate to call on the lord's name; he’s a strong tower when we feel isolated, bitter, and in any pain. He can handle it all. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

========================

PRAYER

========================

Heavenly Father, we thank you for being everything to us; we thank you for giving us your strength, Father; we are weak right now, and we ask you to come to see about us and hear our humble cry, lord, we need you so much and we thank you for everything. Lord, we don’t believe that we can handle this, but we know you can; we give you everything and all our troubles and worries; in Jesus Name, Amen

========================

REFERENCES

========================

+ Luke 6:38 Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. With the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.”

 

+ Romans 12:1 I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.

 

+ Proverbs 19:1 Whoever is generous to the poor lends to the Lord, and he will repay him for his deed.

========================

FURTHER READINGS

=========================

Proverbs 1

Leviticus 1

1 Samuel 5

2 Kings 25

=========================

[sanjiluvrr1]

SANJI x READER(fem)

Warnings: Mommy issues, Jealousy.

Summary: Sanji falling in love with young girl who later married one of his brothers.

Sanji always had a thing for older women. As the cook of the Strawhat Pirates, he had been on many adventures and met countless beautiful women, but his heart always yearned for someone older than him. He had never understood why, but he always had a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that it had something to do with his mother.

Sanji had lost his mother at a young age, and it had left a deep scar on him. He had never really talked about it with anyone, but he knew deep down that he had never fully healed from her loss. His father was absent, and his brothers had always been cruel to him, so he had never really had anyone to turn to. But he had found solace in cooking and in the company of older women.

One day, the Strawhat Pirates had taken on a young girl named Y/N as a member. She was a few years younger than Sanji, but she was kind and caring, and she had taken it upon herself to look after him. Like her own child. Sanji had never really noticed it before, but Y/N had a way of making him feel safe and loved.

As they sailed on the Going Merry, Sanji found himself falling for Y/N. He tried to ignore it at first, knowing that she was too young for him and that it was wrong to feel this way. But he couldn't help himself. Y/N had become like a mother to him, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was in love with her.

One day, Sanji decided to tell Y/N about his feelings. He waited until they were alone on deck, and he took a deep breath.

"Y/N, there's something I need to tell you," he said, his heart pounding in his chest.

Y/N looked up at him, her kind eyes meeting his.

"What is it, Sanji?" she asked.

"I... I think I'm in love with you," Sanji blurted out.

Y/N's expression softened, but she didn't say anything.

"I know it's wrong," Sanji continued, "but I can't help the way I feel. You've been so kind to me, and you've helped me heal in a way that I never thought was possible. I just... I don't want to lose you."

Y/N smiled sadly. "Sanji, you don't have to love me just because I helped you out. Or just because that I was kind to you. I care about you, but not in that way. I'm sorry."

Sanji felt his heart sink. He had known deep down that Y/N didn't feel the same way, but hearing it out loud still hurt.

"I understand," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Y/N placed a hand on his shoulder. "I hope we can still be friends, Sanji. You're important to me."

Sanji nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. He couldn't bring himself to say anything else, so he turned and walked away. And with these words of hers she just left the Strawhats. Of course Luffy didn’t accept it but the others knew how she felt. Agreeing to one side love? No thanks, I’ll just leave this crew. Although she really liked the rest of them.

Days turned into weeks, and Sanji tried to move on from his feelings for Y/N. He threw himself into his cooking, trying to distract himself from the pain he felt. But it was always there, lurking in the back of his mind. Little thing he did know that she was a famous pirate out there since she left the Strawhats. People started spreading rumours about her.

One day, a newspaper landed on the ship. Sanji picked it up absentmindedly, his eyes scanning the headlines. But then he saw something that made his heart stop.

There, on the front page, was a picture of Y/N in a wedding dress, marrying one of his ridiculous brothers. It didn’t even matter which one it was. Every single of them is hilarious.

Sanji felt a surge of emotions hit him all at once. He was sad, because he had lost the woman he loved. He was angry, because his brothers had always been a source of pain for him. And he was jealous.

He had to get her back. There is no way that a woman like her would marry such a hilarious man. Sanji had a unsure feeling creeping inside of him. This must be a forced marriage or a ally. She was also too young to marry someone. Especially one of his brothers. So he had to get her before she could get harmed by them.

Part 2?

[justatiredghost]

No Freedom from Knowing ch3

The general mistrust of magic as well as dangerous people in his past kept Jonathan Sims isolated, hidden away where he hoped he might finally be safe. Until he met someone who might be worth shattering that peace for.

ao3

-

Some days, Martin needed to rest more than others, but as his injury healed, he started tagging along for more and more of John’s chores. This particular task required more walking than usual, so it was the first time they’d done it together. 

“Okay, let’s see it then,” John said, holding out his hand. 

Martin passed him the empty bucket and he took it and waded into the river to fill it. They were still inside the safety of the barrier, but this was the farthest they'd gone from the cabin and Martin kept glancing around nervously. He couldn’t blame him. A run in with one of the monsters left its own kind of mark on people. This did mean John was hauling the bucket out of the river with his cane shoved into his belt before Martin realized what he was doing. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Martin asked with a disapproving look that was definitely hiding a fond smile. 

“Carrying a bucket of water,” John said dry. “I thought that was obvious. I said that was what we were doing before we came out here.”

“Come on, give me the bucket,” Martin said, holding out a hand. 

“No, I’ve got it.”

“You can’t even use your cane like that!”

“Yes, but at least I’m not in danger of ripping stitches and having to start the healing process all over again.”

In the end, they compromised by having them both hold onto the handle, that way neither of them had to carry the full weight and John still had a hand free for his cane. It was a ridiculous setup that seemed completely unnecessary, and John complained the whole way back, but Martin was failing to hide a smile the entire time. 

There was no real heat behind John’s complaints anyway. It was a distraction, because this whole thing was nice in a way he was having trouble putting into words. Maybe it was knowing someone wanted to spare him the pain he always felt after walking without the cane, or that someone would even notice his discomfort. Maybe it was just having Martin beside him, helping him with simple everyday tasks. He didn’t have to do it alone. 

-

John had always suffered from insomnia, but it had gotten worse after he’d gotten mixed up in the magic. He wasn’t sure if it was the same for everyone in his… ‘situation,’ he hadn’t really had the opportunity or desire to ask anyone associated with magic about it. Elias was a liar who only spoke in cryptic hints anyway and there was no way he was going to trust anything he said, and he hadn’t run into any others willing to talk. Usually their first order of business was to try to gut him. 

His nightmares were worse too, which only contributed to the insomnia. That might have just been because of the horrors he’d witnessed, both magical and mundane, adding fodder for his subconscious to draw from. Or maybe this was just one of the many costs associated with having access to magic. 

Regardless, he found himself bundled on the couch watching the fire more often than not. At least it meant he was awake to stoke the fire, preventing it from burning down too low. Then again, sleeping on the couch as he’d started doing after Martin arrived meant he was always nearby to keep feeding logs into the fire. His home had never been so warm, which was a relief for his joints, even if they then suffered because of the lack of a proper bed. 

Not that he would ever complain about giving up the bed. He was growing accustomed to hearing the quiet snoring coming from the bedroom. It was strangely nice, proof that there was another person nearby. What had once been a source of anxiety had somehow morphed into a comfort, because he was slowly realizing he didn’t need to fear Martin. Instead, his presence made him feel— safe. That was dangerous thinking, he knew, but he tried not to examine it too closely. Things would go back to normal eventually and then he would return to jumping at every creak of the house. 

Tonight, there hadn’t been much snoring from the bedroom, so he wasn’t surprised when he heard the door open and Martin’s steps approaching. His footsteps weren’t as slow and careful as they had been on that first day. Good. That meant he was healing well. 

“Can’t sleep?” John asked without turning around. 

“No, I suppose not,” Martin said, his footsteps pausing. 

“I sympathize.”

“It’s strange,” Martin said, and John glanced over his shoulder to see him staring deep into the flames, leaning on the back of the couch “I keep dreaming about getting attacked in the forest. My dreams never used to be so repetitive. Kind of silly to keep dwelling on it.”

“It’s not,” John said. ”Those things— they tend to get in your head. If my guess is right, the one that was after you preys on isolation. Loneliness, despair, it enhances it until it feels like there’s nothing else. It numbs the senses, makes you feel like that kind of pain is better than facing the world. One of the nastier ones. If it can’t consume you into the fog, into the Forsaken, it will do it in a more literal way.”

At the mention of fog, Martin shuddered, and John nodded sympathetically. He didn’t have much first hand experience with the Lonely, that wasn’t his particular domain, but from what he had seen and heard, it sounded pretty bad. He couldn’t help but wonder if, had he still been susceptible to the other domains, if his own didn’t extend him at least a little protection, if that particular one would have come for him by now as well.  

“Come, sit,” John said. ”It might help, being near someone else.” 

Martin looked surprised by the sudden offer. John didn’t think it was such a strange thing to say, but then, he had been a bit skittish around Martin since he arrived. He was getting used to his presence, though, and he wanted to help, if he could. He hated seeing anyone a target for these powers, but for some reason, he especially didn’t want to see Martin fall victim. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” John asked as he dropped onto the couch beside him with a world-weary sigh. 

“Not much to tell, really,” Martin gave a half shrug. “Your description was accurate enough. I didn’t even get a good look at it, there was too much fog.”

“Yeah, that’s how it hunts,” John said. “Not many people make it out again, once they’re in there.”

“Pure luck on my part,” Martin said with a quiet self deprecating laugh. 

“No,” John insisted. “What you did takes a lot of courage. But you’re safe, it can’t get you here.”

Martin took in a shaky breath as he continued to stare into the fire, unable or unwilling to look over at him. It was a long moment until he spoke again. 

“I guess it makes sense that it would come after me. I’ve always been alone.”

“Not anymore,” John said, and now Martin did turn to look at him, eyes wide with surprise, and something else. Was it hope? “At least, not if you don’t want to be.”

John placed his hand between them, palm up in invitation. Somehow the action felt like the hardest thing he’d ever done. It was terrifying, it was reaching out and trusting someone when they could so easily shatter him. He’d been too afraid to do anything like this in so long, he wasn’t sure he really knew how anymore. But if there was even the smallest chance it could save him from the monsters, he would do it without regret, whatever the cost. 

Martin stared at his hand as if he wasn’t sure it was real before he slowly reached out to grasp it, fingers wrapping around gently, like he was afraid holding too tightly would cause him to disappear. He was slowly turning bright red, which made John feel his own face heating up as well and he glanced away quickly. 

”I suppose being friends with the local pariah can be its own sort of lonely, though,” John said, because it was true. 

He doubted he could really do much good here, but he wanted to try. Looking at Martin now, so open and hopeful, John felt a warmth flow through him and an intense desire to do more, to prevent him from ever feeling lonely again. He just didn’t know how. He couldn’t even do it for himself. 

“It has its perks,” Martin said, voice thick with emotion that John couldn’t hope to parse, squeezing his hand. 

“If you say so,” was all John could say, and they simply sat in silence together, watching the flames. 

-

John hadn’t intended to sleep. It felt wrong to do so, so close to another person. A part of him still felt like there was a danger here, but he was lulled by the warmth of the fire and Martin’s hand in his. 

It really shouldn’t have been this comfortable, being here with him. He hadn’t known him that long, and he scolded himself as he reflexively scrambled to his feet as soon as he woke. He was alone by the fire, now, with morning light streaming in through the windows. Martin had moved to the kitchen where he was cooking breakfast. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” John said as he approached, suddenly not sure what to do with his hands. He could still remember how Martin’s had felt in his own. 

“I know, but I wanted to,” Martin said and the only way he could reply was to nod. 

“Sorry the selection is a bit limited,” he said lamely, feeling exceptionally awkward, unsure what to do with himself or what to really say. 

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Martin said. “Do you grow everything here?”

“Or harvest in the forest,” John said. “It’s not like I can just pop down to the market.” 

He left out the fact that he had, on occasion, done exactly that. It was incredibly risky, someone could have realized what he was, seen the magic in him, but it had been that or starvation in the winter when it was harder to procure his own food. It had taken him a bit to get the hang of preserving, and some things he just couldn’t make himself. 

“That must be hard,” Martin said, much too sincere. “I can bring you more of a variety, once I get back home.”

“That would be ill advised, unless you’re planning a repeat of how we met,” John said. 

“Oh, I suppose not,” Martin said, looking crestfallen, and only then did it occur to John that he’d been wanting to visit, after all this was over. He would willingly choose to return, to see him again. 

What was he supposed to do with that information? It couldn’t work, he’d get himself killed traveling back and forth like that. And even if he didn’t, what would be the point? Just because he enjoyed his company? The idea that Martin of all people might, left John feeling light and warm in an altogether unfamiliar way. But just as quickly, it turned to ice at the danger he would be put in because of him. 

“You should be careful who you talk to about me in town,” John said. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone anything about you,” Martin reassured. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

“No, no,” John said, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was his fault, for putting such emphasis on that before, but he needed to make sure Martin understood. “I meant, if people found out that you were willingly visiting me, that you were my friend, they might respond poorly.”

“Oh,” Martin said and he looked like he genuinely hadn’t considered that. “Thank you for worrying about me, but I’ll be fine.”

“Just— just be careful, alright?“

“I will, I promise,” Martin said, sensing some of his desperation, but it was obvious he didn’t entirely understand. 

Unwelcome memories bubbled to the surface, of violence done in fear, leaving John the broken shell he was now, and the idea that that might be inflicted on someone else, on Martin, made him shudder. 

He didn’t want to see him chased away from a place he thought of as home, for smiling faces he saw every day to suddenly change. To know, for a fact, what it was like to know every single one of them wanted you dead. They would never see him as truly human ever again. He was lesser. Filthy. Undeserving of even pitty. 

“Hey,” Martin said, setting aside the ladle for the soup he’d been stirring. “You’re shaking. Can I—“

John nodded absentmindedly, not even really sure what he was agreeing to, too caught up in his own mind. But then Martin was there, much too close. He carefully placed a hand on his arm, waiting until he was sure he was okay before gently rubbing up and down in a soothing motion. And when John leaned into him, he wrapped him in a hug. 

John had forgotten, how warm another person could be. How soft and careful a touch could be. It felt like something inside him was breaking, shattering completely. Being held like this should have been terrifying. He hated being trapped or restrained, but he wasn’t either of those things. He knew he could step away and Martin wouldn’t stop him. He… trusted him. He had never felt so safe. 

He wasn’t doing a very good job reciprocating. He didn’t bring his own arms up and just stood there uselessly, but it didn’t seem like Martin minded. He rubbed a few circles onto his back before finally pulling away. 

John felt fragile as he stood there in front of him, stunned. It was an altogether pathetic feeling and he sniffed, trying to gather what dignity he had left. Martin was blushing from the closeness and John did his best to pretend he wasn’t as well, neither of them looking at each other. He reached out, brushing his fingers against Martin’s, looping just two fingers, the barest of touches. 

And then the moment was over and he was pulling away, going to sit at the table while Martin finished his cooking. He cupped his hands together in front of him, rubbing his thumb against the place they’d touched. He wasn’t shaking anymore. All he could do was sit with this feeling, wondering why it made him want to cry with how overwhelming it was. And through it all was a deep primal fear he had learned that he didn’t think he could ever completely shake. 

[whumpshaped]

Chapter 3: Distrust

Silence Masterlist

tw institutionalised/normalised pet whump, it/its used as a default for pets, past trauma, defiant/feral whumpee, morally dubious caretaker, badly healed bones, mention of potential infection and parasites, internal monologue of a self-hating and conditioned pet

The next day, Rayan was considerably more nervous as he made his way to the alley. He used to be excited, sure, wanting to find out what was hiding in there… But now he knew. And he had no idea whether it would still be there. 

"Sil?" He didn't put the plate down this time, wanting to hand it to the pet instead. Sil poked its head out from behind the dumpster, seemingly disapproving of this new idea.

"Do I need to do tricks for it now?" it groaned. "Crawl over? Sit pretty?"

"What? No, I…"

Rayan averted his gaze, knowing that at the core of it, that was what he'd had in mind. He wanted to lure it closer, build some more trust. He was still treating it like a stray dog, when pets were so entirely different.

"I'm sorry." He put down the plate of food, stepping back. "I won't force anything. Like, in exchange for food. You don't have to earn it, is what I'm trying to say."

Sil began carefully moving towards it, never taking its eyes off of him. Now that Rayan could see it a little better and knew what to look for, it was obvious that it was in pain. The way it compensated for loss of movement in some areas, the way it winced when it made a wrong move… He was sure that part of it moving so slowly was caution, but the other part was definitely the pain.

Rayan had no idea how to approach the topic of a doctor's visit, and it ended up causing him a long, sleepless night. He thought he'd just grab a stray animal, bring it to the vet and be done with it. But Sil… he couldn't just put it into a box. Then there was the issue of the licence. Only licensed pets could be brought to a doctor, and they took the rules very seriously. The moment he showed up with an unregistered pet, they would take it away and bring it right back to the sly fucker who managed to avoid questions up until now. He could already picture it. ‘Oh, I don’t know how it got these injuries. It must’ve happened in the time it was on the streets. Yes, of course I’ll pay for all the treatments, I’m a good owner, see?’

He couldn’t bring in Sil as a pet. But trying to bring it in as a person, trying to trick the doctor would put all three of them in danger of serious legal trouble. He didn’t want to put anyone else in harm’s way, and that was precisely why he had decided that when the doctor finally got back to him, he wouldn’t mention an in-person visit, only ask some general questions over the phone about things that he himself might be able to do to help.

Unfortunately, said doctor had just found the time to call back. 

The ringtone sent Sil scurrying back to its nest, food untouched. "Oh no- goddammit, why now..?" He pressed a hand down on his pocket to muffle the music. "It's just my phone, Sil, please eat! I'll just- I'll be right around the corner!" He took a few steps away for privacy and took the call.

-

Sil couldn't stop shaking. The sound of the phone startled it so badly, and the most frustrating thing was that it couldn't even explain why. It wished it had grabbed the food at least, before running like a coward.

It could faintly hear Rayan's voice from the street, talking to someone. It couldn't make out a single word from so far away, but it found itself curious enough to shuffle towards the source.

"...they seem hurt…yes, I think so…no, they're just- bumps under the skin, yes…I can't bring them in…it's complicated, I just can't…" 

They. Who were they? Ah, of course, Rayan must've been talking to a professional or something. He had to pretend he was talking about a person, so he could ask his questions without raising suspicion.

No. That didn’t make any sense. That was a pet train of thought, a stray train of thought, from someone who had been running from the Agency for almost a year now. From a person point of view, all Rayan had to do was call the PPA and have it be brought in. Returned to its owner. That was the ‘right’ thing to do, wasn’t it? He was probably just talking about someone else… with bumps under their skin. 

Sil leaned against the cold brick wall. It studied its hand, noting that the weight loss had made the protruding bone even more prevalent. It had been broken by its owner after one of the minor offences it’d committed, and he never ended up taking it to the doctor for it. He never took it anywhere, not even the fundraiser balls or the- the other stuff the pets kept getting so well-dressed for. It had been hidden away from public view for years, some gross, useless, nameless thing. Master hated it, and never ever failed to make it known.

Maybe its wrist healed wrong, but was that really important? It could live with the pain, it had for years now. Its ankle and shoulder were honestly way more of an issue for it, the agony of walking getting a little too much as time passed, but even that was negligible. Surely, if even its owner thought it wasn’t worth a doctor’s visit, it couldn’t have been a big deal. 

It looked up at the grey sky above and let out a small sigh. It had no idea why it had decided to come out with Rayan around. It had spent so long hiding from all the people in all the towns and cities it had passed, and now that it was finally quite far from where Master was, it had decided to blow its cover and just trust that this man - Rayan - would be an ally. That he wouldn’t call the authorities. That he would just keep bringing it food and water, that he would keep being kind, that he would keep being so odd and different.

It wasn’t so sure about its decision anymore. It desperately wanted to take it back, so it wouldn’t have to sleep with one eye open for when the PPA finally got Rayan’s report about the stray behind the dumpster.

Sil poked its head out again, trying to see whether he had come back yet. He hadn't. It crawled over to the plate and brought it back to its hiding spot, stuffing its face as quickly as it could in case he changed his mind about having to earn it. It wasn't going to do tricks for food. 

-

The doctor had told Rayan dreaded news after dreaded news. In-person visit. Rebreaking of bones. Potential lice and other parasites. Infections. He didn't even know where to start, especially since Sil didn't even want to be near him.

The plate was gone by the time he got back to the alley, and he smiled a little. At least it was eating. "Sil?"

A thin little arm appeared from behind the dumpster, placing the plate on the ground. He frowned. Was it not going to come out again?

"Is everything okay?"

"As much as it's ever been."

"I'm sorry about the phone call. Did I upset you somehow?" 

"Does it matter?" 

Rayan slowly walked over to where the plate was, resisting the urge to peek behind the trash where Sil's hiding place seemed to be. He backed off with the plate now in his hands, stopping at his regular spot. "It matters to me. If I did, I didn't mean to, and I'm sorry."

"Who were you talking about? On the phone."

"Well… Well, um… you. I was- I was trying to get you a doctor's visit, or at least some advice-" 

"You were talking about me like I was a person. I don't like that, and I don't trust that."

He opened and closed his mouth a couple times. How was he going to explain that? ‘Yeah, that’s because I’m trying to sneak you past security and avoid the agency that was founded specifically to protect you, all so that I could take care of you instead of your owner that I’ve decided was a horrible person.’ That didn’t sound very trustworthy or morally correct, even in his head. Said out loud, he assumed it would’ve sounded even worse. 

Still, hiding the truth would’ve been an entirely selfish act. If Sil wanted him to call the Agency, he supposed he had no other choice. 

But then again, Sil ran away, and was currently hiding behind a dumpster. Surely, it’d understand?

Unless it was lost, and it really had sustained all those injuries on the streets, and he was making horrible assumptions about a potentially very kind owner who was desperately looking for their beloved pet. But a lost pet would’ve just gone up to an officer, right? To be returned?

Either way, Rayan could only imagine what kinds of people would want to forgo making a report so they could keep an undocumented stray all to themselves, and he was about to come clean about being such a person. Sil had no way of telling that his intentions were actually good.

“I… I told them you were a person because I didn’t want the PPA to get involved. You look very hurt, and I assumed it was from your owner, and that’s why you’re out here all alone and hiding. I was afraid they’d send you back.”

Sil didn't respond, no matter how long Rayan waited. He didn’t know what it was thinking. He didn’t know whether the answer made it despise him. He wished he could've scooped it up in his arms and told it that all he wanted was to make it all better, but that was a far stretch from where they stood with each other right now.

"I'll bring you a blanket tomorrow, if… if that’s okay. If you’re still here. It's getting colder. See you tomorrow, Sil. I hope."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @whump-queen @whump-blog @alexkolax @ha-ha-one @hidden-dreamland @looptheloup @batfacedliar-yetagain @oddsconvert

[ks-caster]

What's Good for the World (Might Not be Good for You)

Chapter 3: Justice

Being bitten by another vampire could be either an intensely pleasurable experience - powerfully intimate, the perfect thing to add to a long night of sex - or a horribly painful and demeaning one. Being attacked and reduced to a food source wasn’t something that most vampires dealt with on the regular, being designed as predators, and not prey. 

Klaus had been bitten plenty of times, usually during foreplay or between rounds. The small pains of fangs in his skin would turn to blinding pleasure in an instant, and he’d learned to relish and even crave it in short order. But before today, he’d never had his throat torn into, his blood spilled on the sheets under him as the vampire on top of him fed in frenzied desperation. 

Caroline’s hands went from gently holding onto him to gripping his arms for dear life to actually holding him down as her strength returned and his waned. His healing was fast, but was having trouble keeping up as she raked her teeth across his skin, searching for more. He’d shed his jacket as she’d approached his throat - a wise choice, as she’d fisted a hand in his shirt and torn it to shreds in a second.

If Caroline had only erred on the side of harming people in her first 24 hours of vampirism, then she’d probably never done this before, he realized. Feeding like this would kill a human, after all. He’d threaded his fingers though her hair early on, and was stunned to realize that his arm was going numb. She must have been truly desperate. And to think, there was a refrigerator full of blood bags not three feet away, taunting her as she was unable to consume them.

“Darling,” he whispered, gently placing his free hand on her hip. She bit down harder, clearly lost in her hunger. “Caroline, stop a moment. Stop—” She sat up abruptly, fangs still extended, staring down at him with dark eyes filled with unquenched bloodlust. Had she ever truly shown this self to anyone else, he wondered distractedly?

“I’m going to need to steal some of your blood bags,” he said, sitting up and regretting it instantly. The dizziness was so overwhelming that he nearly fell into her. 

When he looked up, he realized that the veins had retracted from her face, and she was staring at him wide-eyed and horrified, face and the front of her shirt still covered in his blood.

“Deep breaths,” he coached, taking her face in both of his hands. “I’m already healed, see. But I am going to need a drink myself before you continue.”

“Con—” she choked out, eyes moving from his healed but still blood-soaked neck to the crimson mess of her pillow and sheets.

“Hey, breathe,” he repeated sternly, wrapping her in his arms and turning so she wasn’t facing the evidence of her violence. “With me, in… out…” Obediently she took long, slow breaths, and he held onto her until her heart rate slowed.

“I’m going to make use of your blood stash now,” he murmured into her hair, and she nodded jerkily, not looking at him as he let her go, sped around the bed, and pulled a pair of blood bags out, popping the cap off of one and directly into the garbage with unerring precision. Bagged blood wasn’t as tasty as fresh and warm, but it was perfectly fine in a pinch, and he’d sucked down one bag and was starting on the other in the time it took him to walk back around the bed at human speed.

“Feeling any better?” he asked between gulps, relishing the feeling of strength returning to him. She nodded again, the same jerky movement from a moment ago, still not meeting his eyes. 

He finished the second bag, tossed it in the trash beside the first, and took one of her hands in his, gently rubbing her fingers between his. They were warmer, softer, his blood having done its job. She still wasn’t looking at him. He raised her chin with his free hand, and she met his eyes, though she looked like she would have preferred to do just about anything else.

“I do presume that you realize I’m quite a bit more durable than the average vampire,” he reminded her, cocking his head to the side a little and raising his eyebrows. 

“I know,” she breathed, “I know, I’ve just…” 

“Never gone that far before?” he finished for her. She nodded, dropping her gaze when he removed his hand. “Ever been in such a bad way before?” he challenged, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. She shook her head.

“I didn’t expect I’d actually hurt you,” she finally admitted. 

“That sort of frenzy feeding is completely natural when a vampire has been starved as long as you have.” How many weeks had it been since Alaric had her? How many weeks, days, hours, minutes had she been suffering and none of her friends had noticed - and he hadn’t noticed? 

He shoved the pain of that thought deep, deep down and returned to the present. “It’s why Stefan is a ripper; since he never has a proper, healthy diet, when he finally does feed from a human he can’t control himself. Though he’ll never listen to any of us evil villain types when we try to explain that he’s bringing it upon his own foolish self…” he added, and Caroline’s tiny laugh lifted a weight off his heart he hadn’t realized was there.

“No ill-effects?” he checked, feeling her pulse as it slowed. “I take it the loophole is working?”

“Yeah,” she responded quickly. “Yeah I feel much better now. Thank you,” she added, and her eyes were burning into his with something that looked more like guilt than gratitude, and he wanted to kiss it away, wanted to press his mouth against hers until she couldn’t remember why she felt guilty, wanted to sink his fangs into her throat, slowly, gently, and give her an intimate lesson on what feeding from another vampire could be like, should be like.

“Good to know we’ve found at least one way to survive for the present,” he interrupted what he suspected was going to be a long and painful apology. “Now to figure out how to fix you up properly.” She swallowed, and nodded, clearly trying hard to focus.

“You said there was no one to murder - I take it that the hunter’s as dead as Alaric?” 

“Yeah,” she said tightly. “Technically he committed suicide right here in my bed.” Klaus blinked, opened his mouth and shut it again, wondering just what sort of a nightmare he’d missed. “My dad,” she explained, realizing he didn’t have the context to get it. “My dad did this to me. 

“He’s also the guy who taught Tyler how to break the sire bond, and could defeat compulsion by sheer willpower,” she forged on when it was clear that Klaus was going to comment on that. “So, he probably would’ve known how to fix it too. But he was so against becoming a vampire that when he was murdered, he refused to drink, and expired right here where we’re sitting. Human. So, no getting Jeremy to call up his spirit on the other side for a little threaty Q&A.”

“Noted,” he responded, then raised a hand, holding his fingers near her face, but not quite touching. Instantly, her heart stuttered and then sped up, terror gripping her. Her breathing became shallow, and though she didn’t pull away he saw something close behind her eyes. “Caroline,” he said, lowering his hand immediately. “Caroline, breathe, dearest.” She obeyed, shallowly and quickly, clearly trying and failing to control herself. “I’m not going to do anything to you that you don’t want,” he assured her.

“I don’t want,” she choked out, shaking her head vehemently. “It’s not that I don’t trust you or think that you’d hurt me or—” her panicked explanation cut off with a sob.

“Too many people rummaging around in your head is what got you into this mess,” he surmised, and she nodded. 

“I know a witch who specializes in hypnotherapy and guided soul-journeys,” he suggested. “I could arrange for her to come here and take a look at you.”

“A witch therapist?” Caroline repeated, not having considered such a mundane possibility.

“A lot of witches are therapists, love,” he responded with a laugh. “They tend to make rather good ones. This one in particular has worked with some friends of mine to great effect. I’d take Stefan to see her if I thought he’d trust anyone I recommended,” he added a little sourly, and the ghost of a laugh made Caroline’s lips twitch up slightly. 

“Are you done?” he asked suddenly, and she frowned, not understanding for a moment. “Drinking,” he added. “If you haven’t fed properly since Alaric had you—deep breaths,” he added, “it’s not like you can hurt me.”

“Maybe not permanently,” she whispered back. He let his eyes go gold, his fangs extend.

“Would it make you feel better if I bit you back?” he asked, mostly joking. He could see that while she was no longer desiccating, she wasn’t sated. She huffed out another tiny laugh, and he let his face go back to normal. She really wasn’t scared of him at all, was she? He pressed his palm against the back of her neck, pulling her back towards him. 

“Seriously love, you’re not doing yourself any favors by holding back,” he added. “I’m more than willing to supply you with what you need until you’re able to find a way to undo what’s been done to you - but I do ask that you don’t let yourself get into the state you were in last night again. For your sake and mine.” He had her there. She was smart enough to know that after injury or physical trauma, a vampire needed to glut themself in order to heal. Giving in to his gentle pressure on her neck, she leaned into him, her fangs extending, and gently bit back into the perfectly healed skin of his neck.

This time was different. This time was how it ought to be, deep and slow and sensual. He wound his arms around her, and she pressed into him, her hands tangling into his hair and running her hails gently down his back. Unable to bear the space between them, he pulled her onto his lap, and she wrapped herself around him obligingly, not even pausing. 

He knew that this time she could feel it too - with her hunger no longer dominating her, she could feel the way his blood sang in her veins, the way two vampire souls would reach out to one another, but never quite touch, during this act. As she slowed, she retracted her fangs, gently lapping away the few drops that escaped as the tiny wounds closed. 

For a long moment, neither of them moved. He didn’t want to let go, and she didn’t want to face reality again.

Then she sat back, looking down at him from where he’d elevated her, eyes full of a burning, delectable something, and he though staring into them that if he kissed her right now, she’d probably let him. Might kiss him back. Might even let him show her what else their bodies could do together, right here on her blood-soaked bed, until all she could associate his blood with was pleasure and safety and love.

The landline phone rang suddenly, jolting them both back to reality, and she climbed sheepishly off of him, sitting a little stifly on the bed as the call went to voicemail.

“Suppose that’s the universe reminding me I need to give that witch a call,” he laughed a little, and she smiled back, genuine and red-faced.

“I take it from the lack of Bennett witch intervention that you’ve not told any of your friends about this?” he checked, standing up and putting his jacket back on to cover his naked and slightly bloody torso. She shook her head.

“I didn’t want them to worry, I don’t want anyone to worry, I just—” He leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

“Your secret is safe with me, sweetheart,” he murmured into her hair. “And I’ll happily assist you with whatever you need until we can find you a more permanent solution.”

He took a step back and she looked up at him, her expression a mix of confusion and gratitude (which was at least better than her guilt from before). 

“Why?” she breathed. “I mean, I’ve given you no hope… I’ve shut you out more times than I can count…”

“Whoever gave you the idea that you had to do things for people in order to be worthy of their help,” Klaus responded, eyes narrowing slightly in anger and sorrow, “should be hanged for it.”

Before she could respond to that - and before he could stay and say worse - Klaus vanished at vampire speed. Caroline sat frozen on the edge of her bed, watching the first rays of autumn sunlight glow through her window for a long moment.

Then she stood up, stretched luxuriously after having been so dried out for so long, and began to strip the ruined sheets off of her bed.  

[uridestiny]

The Warrior of the Moon Chapter 6: Welcome home

Previous chapter:

https://www.tumblr.com/uridestiny/737467047815036928/the-warrior-of-the-moon-chapter-5-kindness-from?source=share

I don't remember at what point I fell asleep, I only know that, when I opened my eyes, I was inside a hollow log, I had a hard time believing where I was, I even blinked several times while dragging my body out of the log, that's when my mind was finally able to reason that I was not dreaming; I had returned to The Shroud , I had done it... Thanks to Khistis...

I looked at my surroundings, a lot of vegetation and the clear sound of a flowing stream of water, probably a nearby river; I decided to follow the sound, my throat was extremely dry.

I walked clumsily through the undergrowth and some bushes, looking around at all times. It had been 2 years since I had last set foot in the forest, but I had never gone on my own to explore beyond the grounds of our house without my parents. But now... I had to move on my own.

Thanks to my hearing, I managed to find the river; I had to jump over some rocks to reach the shore and bend over to collect some water with my hands. The taste was really different from the metal containers that they always gave us in our cells, but when this water passed through my mouth and throat, it was wonderful, refreshing and delicious, it was as if I had found the best water in the world.

But before I could continue taking more, I heard a screech near me, turned around and saw two marmots growling aggressively at me. I felt great fear and ran as fast as I could from the river. I had made a basic mistake, my father told me that all wild animals always look for a source of water, and I must be careful not to be close to an animal and respect its space.

And apparently I made that mistake too soon.

The marmots didn't stop chasing me even though I ran a good distance, but unfortunately for me I tripped and scraped my knee. It hurt a lot, because of the fall and the pain I couldn't get up and continue running, of my fear I screamed out loud.

Maybe that day was luck or maybe a mere coincidence... Or maybe Hydaelyn's will, but suddenly an arrow appeared and came between me and the marmots.

When I looked up to look for the origin of the arrow, I saw a Miqo'te man riding a chocobo, on the chocobo's saddle he proudly carried the banner of Gridania.

The man jumped off his mount, stood upright and scared away the marmots with some arrows. His chocobo stayed next to him in a defensive position, looking around to see if there was still any danger. After a few seconds, the man picked up his bow and placed it on his back, also keeping the arrow he intended to use.

¨Are you okay little one?¨  The man asked and crouched down to be at my height.

I couldn't say anything to him, I was afraid that it was a person with bad intentions, at that point, I felt confused in distinguishing who could be a friend or an enemy.

At my silence, he checked the wound on my knee.

"I'm not an expert in healing, but I can do a small healing spell to heal a wound like this" The man said. He took off the glove from one of his hands and tried to bring his hand closer to me, I crawled back.

He immediately noticed that I was too scared, he raised his hands, trying to look helpless.

"Wait, I don't want to hurt you, I just want to heal your wound."

I didn't say anything, I lowered my head.

¨Kheh!¨ The chocobo whistles with joy.

I looked at the chocobo, it was the first time I had seen one so close, a large bird with bright yellow feathers and dark brown eyes. Then he brought his beak closer to my cheek, leaning on me. I raised my hand and caressed its beak, at that moment I thought that this bird was the cutest and friendliest I had ever met.

¨Koro likes you, he's usually not very friendly with strangers."

The chocobo let me pet his head, from his beak to whatever feathers I could reach, then the man took advantage of the moment to use his healing spell on me, and before I knew it, my knee had healed.

¨There, that's all.¨ He said ¨Tell me little one, why are you here alone? You got lost?¨

I couldn't answer, I focused my attention on the chocobo I was now hugging. The man's expression changed and he stood up. "I think it's better to consult with Brother E-Sumi-Yan."

Without getting too close to me, he said, "Koro and I want to help you, but we need you to come with us. Do you think you can accompany us for a while?"

I remember hearing about Brother E-Sumi-Yan, dad had mentioned him once, and said that he was someone very important who looked out for the good of the forest and the well-being of the inhabitants of Shroud.

I nodded.

¨My name is Adrien Urih, I am a soldier from The Order of the Twin Adder, therefore, I dedicate myself to caring for the inhabitants of the forest and Gridania. And since you are in the forest, it is my duty to help you, a girl like you shouldn’t be alone, so, we will seek the advice of the wisest in the forest to help us, is that okay with you?¨

I nodded again and this time he smiled.

¨Do you feel good to walk? Or would you like to ride Koro?¨

I didn't want to separate myself from the chocobo, and I hugged him tighter. He understood my answer and took me in his arms to place me on the seat of the saddle. It was the first time I rode one, then he got on after me.

¨Look, this is for holding, handle it with care, Koro gets angry easily if you pull too hard.¨

We both guided Koro, although it was more than clear that Adrien was the one in control, he let me continue holding the leather of the halter.

When we arrived at Gridania, Koro had to stay outside, since it was not appropriate for animals to cross beyond the wall that divided the city and the external forest, even within Gridania, many attributes of nature were still preserved, with the slight impression that this place was populated. People really showed great respect for what nature has to offer.

Adrien guided me through several paths, until we entered a cave only illuminated by flashlights, in the end we reached a door and entered. Several conjurers were present, listening to Brother E-Sumi-Yan's words.

Seeing how busy he was, Adrien approached one of the conjurers and asked for a moment to speak with Brother E-Sumi-Yan on a matter that required his guidance.

After a while waiting and playing with the small ball that Adrien lent me, Brother E-Sumi-Yan separated from the group of conjurers and approached us.

¨My apologies for keeping you waiting, I understand that you want my guidance on a specific topic.¨

Adrien explained to Brother E-Sumi-Yan about the situation and how he found me. After that, he approached me and closed his eyes, when he opened them again, he looked very sad.

¨You have gone through so much, the elementals had lost your trace, 2 long years with your absence, but you didn’t do it of your own free will... Finally you returned and they receive you with open arms, you have reciprocated their kindness and they guided you here. Welcome home A'riane.¨

There was a pause and Brother E-Sumi-Yan asked to speak to Adrien alone, but I was able to hear them thanks to my good hearing.

Adrien asked what he was talking about and brother E-Sumi-Yan told him that 2 years ago the elementals guided him deep into the forest where the lifeless bodies of my parents were found, but with no trace of their daughter, they mean me. Although the scene was examined and an attempt was made to find more evidence of the possible perpetrator of the crime, there was not enough information to reach a conclusion, but most importantly, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t find me and I was classified as a missing girl.

These words resonated strongly with Adrien and he made a request.

"Can I become her guardian?"

¨It is not an easy task my child, this little girl has already gone through a lot, too much pain, confusion and fear. Altering her environment and involving her in something else could result in a serious impact on her.¨

"I understand what you're saying, brother E-Sumi-Yan... If you allow me to say, I'm afraid that being in an environment where she feels alone will only make her feel much worse. I saw how she looked scared when I tried to approach her the first time, probably more than one person hurt her and it will be very difficult for her to relate to others if she is neglected too much. She must have someone to lean on, at least... Until she learns to walk on her own again.¨

E-Sumi-Yan remained silent and pondered his words for a moment. And then he turned to look at me and realized I was listening to their conversation.

"Tell me little one, would you feel comfortable if you stayed under Adrien's wing for a while?"

I looked between Brother E-Sumi-Yan and Adrien, and crushed the ball a little in my hands.

“Can I come back?” I asked.

¨Of course, you will always be welcome here my child.¨  Brother E-Sumi-Yan assured me.

Then my gaze focused on Adrien. "Can I still see Koro?"

Adrien smiled and his ears fluttered with joy. "Of course, I'm sure Koro will be more than happy to see you."

Then Adrien's ears stilled at the memory of something.

¨Oh it's true. Brother E-Sumi-Yan, can I make a suggestion?¨

E-Sumi-Yan tilted his head slightly, looking confused, and said, “Go ahead.¨

¨My older brother lives in Sharlayan, and I just had the idea that between my brother and I we can educate her while there. But I request your permission and that of the elementals to go of course.¨

"I don't see any problem, but before doing that, I suggest you send a letter to your brother about the news, remember that the consent of both of you is needed to care for a minor."

¨I don't think he will refuse, he always gives in when I ask him to. But I will take into account your advice brother E-Sumi-Yan ¨ Adrien showed a smile from ear to ear.

E-Sumi-Yan looked worried for a moment by Adrien's words, but still didn't say anything else about his attitude.

¨I will ask someone to send you the girl's information in a letter addressed to Sharlayan.¨

"I thank you very much, brother E-Sumi-Yan" Adrien bowed respectfully towards him.

[angyvalentine]

Again, Kratos didn’t have any answer.

He just didn’t want to give up on the memories of his previous family - but he wasn’t such a fool that wouldn’t admit all the wrongs he had done to them.

He knew.

But those memories were part of him, part of the reasons why he chose to try to be better.

«It’s always you, you, you.» Athena spoke, from the corner of the room. She crossed her arms, slowly walking toward Lysandra «Even now, when your dead child is asking you for a simple favour that wouldn’t, in fact, change anything for you – you won’t even listen because you fear the consequences for yourself.»

«Shut up, Athena.» he growled, glaring at the ghostly goddess «You don’t know what you are talking about.»

«You are forgetting I witnessed all the events, Kratos. From their death, to the moment you destroyed Zeus. I saw everything. Every step you took. Every decision you made. Stop trying to fool yourself in thinking you were desperate for them.»

«I served the Gods for ten years, if you forgot it. Ten years during which I literally have done everything the Olympians asked me to do.»

«Sure, and do you remember why you served us for ten years? To forget what you’ve done to them. Why didn’t you ask to revive them?»

Meeting just silence and a furious glare, Athena piled on.

«Were you so desperate for your wife and child, when you banged any woman willing to spread her legs for you? You know, among Olympians they betted on your endurance while you were in your chambers with Aphrodite’s daughters.»

«Shut up, Athena. I will not repeat it.»

«I’m just showing you what an hypocrite you are, Spartan. And while you had your rendezvous with the twins…» she grabbed Lysandra’s cloak, suddenly pulling it away from her body and showing her conditions to the bystanders. The woman tried to find the cloth with frenetic hands, but Athena kept it away from her.

Her left arm was horrific, with burned skin and clawed fingers. It looked like the burns started from her ring finger, where her ghostly blue ring was almost mocking at him. Open, putrid wounds covered her torso, especially over her breasts and belly – with horror, he recognized the spot where he had slashed her.

«While you happily rolled yourself in the sheets, Hades kept torturing your wife. Opening and slashing her where you hit her in that old temple, and all because you killed Persephone. She can’t talk because she screamed so much that her vocal cords are destroyed. She got burned because she couldn’t get free of her ring – the ring you gave her, promising her your eternal love» Athena almost laughed while saying that «and Hades used it as source of pain for her. And still, she won’t heal until you’ll destroy the real one.».

«But maybe we can find another way. If he really destroys the jewels, his soul may-» Freya tried to intervene, suddenly shutting up when she met Calliope’s angry eyes.

«This doesn’t concern you, and personally I don’t care.» she growled, helping Lysandra to cover her body once again. She noticed her hands trembling, frustrated she couldn’t actually talk «My mother and I want to be free, and this is the fastest way.»

«But he’s still your father, I know he-»

«He’s NOT MY FATHER!» her golden eyes almost shined in her fury, not caring at all of the fact she was screaming to another goddess «He just happened to got my mother pregnant and never cared enough to stay with us!»

«Yet he saved you when you were born sick, young one.» Mimir softly spoke, with a sigh.

«Sure, just to do his part of duty of increasing new-borns number in Sparta. Too bad he got a girl who loved music instead of a strong boy that could fight, right, father?» she almost spat the last word «Done with it, he surely didn’t put much effort into raising me or loving us, and after all of this I can see why.»

«That is not true, Calliope.» Kratos took a step toward his daughter, but she stood her ground.

«Oh no? Are you really daring to say you held us dear? Do you think I couldn’t hear you, when mother kept begging you to stop your war-lust? Even before the oath with Ares!»

«I was… a monster, I know. But I loved you both, and you cannot take it from me.».

Calliope scoffed, turning her back to him. She was so angry. So frustrated. Why couldn’t he just take the jewels, destroy them and let them be free?

Lysandra reached for her shoulder, squeezing it. Almost pleading her to stop, exhausted. Her heart ached in feeling her daughter so full of resentment. She wished all could be done soon, at least to give her child some peace after all those years. She felt Calliope squeezing her cloak, pressing her head against her side to avoid touching her wounds. Raising her head, she stared directly at her former husband.

«She’s asking you if you still have them, Spartan.» Athena gave her the voice she missed, staying at her side «Their jewels, the ring and the necklace.»

«What if I tell you I do not have them anymore?» his voice was low, but it sounded like a challenge to the Goddess. And yet, his heart ached in seeing Lysandra lowering her head.

«That wouldn’t be a surprise.» every time Calliope spoke, it was like a stranger had taken her place. It was hard to realize that the child in front of him, a child so full of hate, was indeed the same daughter he loved so much «It’d have been a shame to keep jewels of your former woman and child, when you’ve to play happy family with a new one. Or maybe you would have gifted them to her?»

sometimes I remember I still have this thing around.

Still dunno if I'll ever finish it :°)