#not the myth i wanted but i will take it especially since the pity counter reset

[themesis]

hes finally fucking home babey!!!!

[ravnicaforgoblins]

Ravnica for Goblins

The Azorius Senate

History: Founded by Azor I, the Sphinx responsible for writing a majority of the original Guildpact, the Azorius Senate had a big part in organizing Ravnica’s government and maintain it to this day. Theirs is the most complete history, as its members are scrupulous about keeping records. Recording and preserving history is a core tenet of the Azorius Senate, not just for themselves, but for all of Ravnica. As a result, if you need to find a book or a piece of information about the past, the Azorius should have it. Criminal records, personnel files, building blueprints, personal histories; it’s all here. It’s just a matter of getting to it.

Organization: More than any other Guild, the Azorius Senate is meticulously organized. Its three Columns are represented on the Guild’s symbol:

The Sova Column (judges, arbitrators, legal aides, librarians, lawyers, etc) are in charge of making rulings in legal disputes. They decide what’s legal, what isn’t legal, and provide mediation for tough calls. Their word is final and carries serious weight.

The Jelenn Column (scribes, elocuters, notaries, lawmakers, legislators, researchers, messengers, etc) write the laws. Every member dreams of one day adding a new law they’ve written to the Guildpact. Their knowledge of Ravnica’s laws is second to none.

The Lyev Column (lawmages, hieromancers, arrestors, nullmages, investigators, enforcers, soldiers, etc) uphold the laws. They patrol streets, issuing warnings, carrying out warrants, making arrests, and function as eyes & ears on the streets. They are equipped for the job of detaining, pacifying, or incapacitating lawbreakers from any Guild.

Alignment Spectrum: Azorius are lawful if nothing else. The Guildpact is the single most powerful magic on the plane of Ravnica and the Azorius’ knowledge of it is unmatched by that of any other Guild. Laws are literally the source of their power, so having any other alignment can be a serious hindrance to an Azorius member. Ideally, the Azorius are Lawful Neutral, concerned with enforcing the laws as written, with no favoritism for anyone. Lawful Good are those who want to use the law to make life better for others because they believe in it. Hero cops, basically. Lawful Evil are those who use the law to their own means. Dirty cops, basically. Thing is, as long as an Azorius has the law on their side, their Guild will back them up. There may be repercussions, however.

Signature Elements: Since Guildpact magic is as powerful as it is, Azorius don’t have many other requirements besides a strong commitment to carrying it out. Azroius is largely populated by humans, as well as a good number of Vedalken, and their fair share of Giants. Being primarily booksmart, Azorius are very likely to have high Intelligence. They wear white & blue uniforms based on their rank & position, have notebooks & writing implements on them at all times, ride horses or griffins, and standard issue armor & weapons for those out on the streets. Azorius magic is law magic and typically takes the form of runes, symbols, floating letters, and glowing bonds/chains. It is firm & iron-clad, but always more focused on detainment than injury. That said, a 4′11″ Azorius can stop a rampaging 25ft tall Simic Krasis with a word and a piece of paper. That’s not just metaphor, I literally mean a piece of paper and clear annunciation can have that much magical power. Combat-wise, Azorius prefer weaponry that discourages unlawful behavior, such as spears, shields, and hammers. It only hurts if you insist on fighting. Magically, Azorius prefer to nullify threats with spells like Command, Hold Person, and especially Counterspell. Take away a mage’s spells and they might as well be a normal civilian.

Your Role in Ravnica: Patrol the streets, research the Guildpact, follow your orders, and above all, maintain order. That last one is the single most important aspect of being an Azorius, but it doesn’t have to be as constricting as it sounds. “Order” in Ravnica has a different meaning than it does on other planes. If a Rakdos troupe is putting on a disturbing knife display involving blood magic at one of their venues, your job is not to stop the show. Your job is to make sure it doesn’t get out of control and spill out into the streets. The status quo is balance, not utopia. If a Guild is building up an army, your job is surveillance, if a Guild is overstepping their boundaries, your job is to put them back in their place. If a threat to the city or its inhabitants emerges, your job is to neutralize it.

Your Territory: Within the Tenth District, the Azorius are most heavily focused in the 1st, 2nd, and 5th Districts. 1st District, being central within the city and home of the Guildpact, is patrolled most regularly. 2nd District, being the site of the Azorius Guildhall New Prahv, has the highest concentration of Azorius in the entire city. Not just patrols, but living quarters, barracks, airship stations, stables, legal offices, as well as prison compounds. It is among the most heavily guarded & fortified structures on the plane. The 5th District contains Prism University, Ravnica’s most highly esteemed educational college, as well as the Ismeri Library, the largest collection of knowledge & information in the city. While not strictly Azorius, the Library is generally filled with lawmages, researchers, students, and bibliophiles, all commonplace amongst the Senate.

Your Guildhall: New Prahv is the single largest building in Ravnica. A trifecta of titanic pillars towers atop a fortress prison nearly a mile wide and a thousand feet tall. It is an impenetrable reminder of the Azorius’ presence within the city. It’s not particularly subtle, but that’s very much the point. Azorius might be annoying out on the streets, but here they are absolute.

Your Guildmaster: The Azorius Senate has been through many Guildmasters, some longer than others. Like many real governments, most of the Guildmasters have been elected to the position based on legal merit/standing as opposed to physical strength. Most have been human (Konstantin I-II, Leonos I-II, Lucian I-III, Augustin I-IV, Lavinia I), with one Vedalken (Dovin Baan) and a couple of Sphinx (Azor I and Isperia). Their role is to issue final judgements, much like a supreme court judge, as well as to oversee the operations of every branch of the Senate. It is exceedingly rare for them to leave their posts, and almost unthinkable to see them out on the streets or in a fight.

Why You’re Awesome: Azorius know a lot. Not just about their own Guild, but about every Guild. To them, knowing literally is half the battle. The Azorius Senate are that one kid in class who actually reads the textbook and raises the collective average of the rest of the class by at least one letter grade. Not only that, but you have one of the largest & most impressive arsenals on the plane backing you up. Your job is to maintain order in a city with Psycho Murder Clowns, make no mistake, Azorius are built to hold fast against any threat, no matter how big. Paladins, Clerics, Wizards, Bards, Airships, Giants, and Griffins. Azorius are best equipped for dealing with threats that rely on only their strongest skill. Thugs, berserkers, raiders, beasts, etc who can excel at physical combat but dump Intelligence or Wisdom stats. Wizards and Sorcerers with massive repertoires of spells at their disposal but no backup plan for having every spell countered or nullified. Seeing the expressions on these individuals’ faces when they realize they don’t have a contingency for such situations is priceless.

Why You’re Problematic: To call the Azorius unpopular is a bit of an understatement. The general consensus about them among the other Guilds ranges from pity to annoyance to outright hatred. The Azorius are unyielding and non-negotiable, and read way too many gods-damn books. There’s also the matter of Ravnica’s own legal system being your greatest weapon as well as your greatest hindrance. Part of your job is to record all crimes you see, jaywalking through illegal detonation of a Purple Wurm, and there are utter mountains of paperwork attached to report. In addition, your Guild moves at what could generously be called a snail’s pace, requiring any major changes or decisions to go all the way up the ladder before any action is made. Worse, many of the other Guilds know this, and have learned how to subvert and dodge legal ramifications over the millennia. Orzhov specialize in finding creative loopholes in specific laws, whereas your job is more of a broad understanding of them. Last, but almost certainly not least, the Azorius Senate strives to be the pinnacle of law & order within the city, but the system is far from perfect. Mistakes are made, and the consequences can be alarming. Azorius strive towards a Greater Good mindset, and some of their actions in pursuit of this have been downright unforgivable.

Myths: You're boring.

You have a stick up your ass that could crack an Orc skull.

Laws are stupid and you’re stupid for following them.

You are required to be a Rules Lawyer.

You can’t do anything in a real fight.

You have to play a high Intelligence character.

No one likes you.

Reality: You’re dependable.

They’ll thank you for keeping notes someday.

Law Magic is the strongest on this plane, only a few Guilds actually learn it.

Lawmages specialize in rules, Arresters specialize in enforcement.

Your warhammer isn’t for show.

You only have to be smart enough to know who you can hit and who you can’t.

You didn’t join this Guild to be popular.

[jetsetlife138]

Imaginary - Chapter 4

Rating: Mature for this chapter, but Explicit in future chapters

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Summary: A mysterious device throws you into the animated world of Hazbin Hotel. Once an average human living in a three-dimensional world, you’re now transformed into a two-dimensional human that has been cast into Hell. Pentagram City’s residents are curious and most harbor ill-will towards you. Charlie and the staff of the Happy Hotel take you in and offer you protection while they try and figure out how to return you to your world. That is… until you come across a certain Radio Demon with different intentions. Chapter Warnings: Suggestive language, explicit language

Previous Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3

Note: Just a reminder to my uninformed and curious folks out there: Asexuals can become aroused.  Asexuals can have the desire to become aroused. Asexuals can enjoy being aroused.  Asexuals can take steps to becoming aroused.  Asexuals can be aroused by someone else.  Asexuals can be curious about arousal.  Asexuals can alternatively have no interest in arousal.  Asexuality doesn’t mean that you are celibate and have no interest in sex. Do yourself a favor and do some research. Talk to your ace friends. Trust me, they’re more than happy to educate you on that subject.  Brace yourselves for another fun-filled chapter! 

Looking back, acting so aggressively towards the infamous demon was probably not the smartest plan. It may have been a bit premature to assume that he was making any kind of sexual advances towards you. After all, he never really confirmed that was his intention. You may have just dug yourself into an even deeper hole. 

Then again… you wouldn’t put it past him considering how he carried himself and also by the way Angel Dust encouraged more illicit behavior. Even with the small amount of time that you had spent with him, it was obvious that the Radio Demon was an opportunist, and also a crafty bastard who got off on manipulating others for his own personal gain. You had wondered if there was a part of him that genuinely wanted to help Charlie with the hotel, or if he had any ulterior motives. Maybe Vaggie had the right idea about him after all. 

Whatever the case, you had to be smart about this. You weren’t going to get anywhere by being so negative. However, it was also important to brace yourself for any impending threat, especially considering that you were, after all, in Hell. Cartoon or not, this place was filled with evil creatures, and you had to watch your back. 

Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself to leave the safety of your room, equally curious and terrified of what would await you in this mysterious land. Stepping out into the hall, you took a moment to really look around, admiring the creepy hotel structure as well as the art on the wall. Painting of strange beings lined the halls in old, corroded frames. You weren’t sure if the creatures on the canvas were important historical figures, or if they were just members of Charlie’s family. Either way, they were haunting. 

Hearing a commotion downstairs, you decided to go and investigate. Following the noises, you had eventually found yourself in a large room where Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel Dust were gathered together, bickering about something with an odd, furry cat demon who was positioned behind the bar next to them with an annoyed look on his face. 

Upon seeing you enter, Charlie cut the conversation short, forcing a nervous grin. “Oh, hey there! How’s it going?”

Keeping your expression neutral, you replied, “I’m hanging in there, thanks. Am I interrupting something?” 

“Not at all!” she assured you, clearly deflecting. “We were just, uh… discussing tactics to get you home. It would help if we had a little more to go off of. Can you tell us more about you?”

“Just ask Alastor,” Angel suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. “The two a them were gettin’ real familiar upstairs. I’m sure he’d be happy to fill you in.”

“Um. What?” Vaggie snapped, her expression equally enraged and horrified. 

Glaring at the spider-demon, he merely blew a kiss at you in return before snickering fiendishly, eager to see how this would play out. 

“He came to my room after the two of you left,” you admitted, noting the nervous glances between Charlie and Vaggie. “It wasn’t a big deal. We just talked.” 

“Oh, honey,” Angel began. “You was doin’ a lot more than that. These walls talk, babe. And these walls told me they saw you two in bed together.”

Oh, fuck. Not good. 

Charlie looked horrified  while Vaggie seemed to be on the brink of a conniption. “No, no, no, it wasn’t like that,” you urged, putting them slightly at ease. “He was trying to help me.” 

“How is being in bed together helpful to your cause?” Vaggie pressed, clearly not buying it. 

“He did something to me… I’m not even sure. He said that he could help me and then he put his hand on my head. Next thing I know, I’m blacking out. I woke up later in the bed, and he just happened to be lying next to me. That’s it.”

Angel Dust rolled his eyes, crossing one set of his arms in disbelief while Vaggie pursed her lips in a disappointed manner. Charlie took a moment to find her words before she asked, “What exactly did he do to you?”

“Apparently, he could see inside my head. By looking through my memories he could see what my world looked like. I’m not sure how that’s beneficial. Maybe he just wanted to see if I was telling the truth. He didn’t say. He’s… weird.” 

“That’s an understatement,” Vaggie murmured, earning a chuckle from the cat-demon behind the bar. 

“Was that all?” Charlie inquired curiously. 

“Yeah, toots. Was that all?” Angel teased, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Ugh, he was going to be the death of you. 

“He tried to make a deal with me,” you finally divulged. 

“Hijo de puta,” Vaggie seethed, baring her teeth in anger. 

Swallowing thickly, Charlie asked, “What kind of deal?” 

Shrugging your shoulders awkwardly, you replied, “If he succeeded in somehow returning me to my world, he wanted me to take him with me. I guess he thinks my world would be entertaining for him.” 

You glanced at Angel, knowing that he was well aware of the other services that Alastor allegedly offered you. Pleading with your eyes, you hoped that he would take pity on you and keep his mouth shut just this once. 

A smirk graced his lips as he considered your silent request. Much to your relief, he kept quiet. You’d probably pay for that later, but it was worth it to avoid more horrified expressions from the others. 

Charlie wrung her hands together nervously while Vaggie approached you, worrying her lip. “Please tell me that you didn’t make a deal with him.” 

“No!” you confirmed, shaking your head. “Of course not. I barely know him.”

“You gonna give her a history lesson? Looks like I’m not the only one around here who isn’t familiar with the Strawberry Pimp,” Angel drawled, now apparently bored of the topic. 

Rolling her eyes, Vaggie sighed with exasperation. “Alright, look. No one knows how he’s accomplished so much since arriving in Hell. Overlords that have ruled Hell for centuries were no match against him. To prove his dominance and establish a reputation, Alastor pretty much massacred anyone who posed as a threat to his power. He broadcasted his carnage all throughout Hell, the mere savagery of his slaughters attesting to his abilities. That’s how he got his name, “The Radio Demon”. How original, right?” she jeered. 

Furrowing your brows, you continued to listen intently. “It’s still unclear as to how he attained the power to overthrow our world’s most ancient and devastating evils, but it’s evident that he's a nefarious demon and dangerously unpredictable--capable of unimaginable destruction.”

Holy fuck. You knew he was dangerous, but you had no idea what he was actually capable of. And you had the audacity to berate him. 

Struggling to keep from trembling, you asked, “So… if he’s so dangerous, why are you partnering with him?” 

Charlie smiled timidly, trying to maintain her optimistic demeanor. “He offered his expertise because he supports what we’re trying to do here!” 

“You cannot possibly believe that,” you countered skeptically. 

“I don’t,” Vaggie barked back, scowling. “I want nothing to do with him.”

“Vaggie, come on,” Charlie implored. “We’ve been over this. We’ve got to at least give him a chance. Everyone is capable of redemption. He hasn’t done anything to hurt us or the hotel. He could be the best thing to happen to this place. Other than you,” she finished with a smile, earning a flirtatious eye roll from her girlfriend. 

“You could always try commanding him to leave,” Angel taunted. “I’d like to see how Hell’s princess pairs up against Hell’s most powerful demon.” 

It was then you remembered hearing her mention that she was a princess the day before when she had saved you from the mob. In all of the calamity, it had completely slipped your mind. “Wait, so you’re actually a princess?” you asked. “How does that work?”

“Jesus, you really are from another world, aren’t you?” Angel interjected, reaching for a drink at the bar. “Ever hear of Lucifer? The Big Bad of Hell?”

Nodding your head, Angel then pointed to Charlie. “That’s his kid.” 

Your eyes were probably the size of baseballs as you stared at Charlie, completely at a loss for words. “It’s really not a big deal,” she assured you, her face flushed with embarrassment, which only added to her already rosy cheeks. 

“Wait, you’ve been here for less than a day. How do you even know about Lucifer?” Vaggie questioned. 

“I mean… I don’t know about your Lucifer,” you clarified, trying to find the right way to explain yourself. “In my world, Lucifer isn’t an actual person. He’s more of a myth, or a religious figure, depending on who you ask. There’s stories about him and no one knows if he actually existed. He’s always been portrayed as evil incarnate. He brought sin to the world and God cast him down into Hell. That’s the extent of my knowledge.”

“Interesting,” Vaggie commented, pressing a finger to her lips inquisitively. “Your world’s version of him isn’t too far off. Rest assured, he’s real. And he’s not really a fan of our business.” 

“Yet,” Charlie corrected her. 

“Yet,” Vaggie agreed, grinning slightly. 

“Wow,” you huffed, trying to comprehend everything. 

“I know that this is probably a lot for you to take in,” Charlie sympathized, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, but we’re going to help you. All of us.” 

“Speak for yourself,” the cat-demon commented before taking a swig of his booze. 

“Oh! I forgot to introduce you! This is Husk. He’s a friend of Alastor’s--”

“I ain’t his friend!” he barked back, seething. “That stupid son of a bitch dragged me in here outta nowhere! I’m just biding my time until the booze runs out.”

“Got it,” you acknowledged, thoroughly enjoying his callousness. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“I can’t say the same,” he grumbled, reaching for a new bottle of alcohol after pitching the old, empty bottle behind him. 

Clapping her hands together, Charlie quickly changed the subject. “Right! Let’s get started! What can you tell us about how you got here?” 

It was mostly a blur, but you tried your best to concentrate and remember exactly what had happened. “I was out with my friends and we had passed by this old thrift shop,” you began, trying to recall the details. “It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I was looking around and saw an old television set on display. It looked like it was at least fifty years old, still in prime condition. I love that kind of retro stuff. I remember grabbing the remote for the t.v. to see if it still worked. I pressed the power button, and bam!” You threw your hands up dramatically for affect. “That’s the last thing I remember.” 

Charlie hummed in thought, looking to Vaggie for her input. “I’ve never heard of anything like that,” the moth-demon thought aloud. “Could it have been cursed?”

“That kind of stuff doesn’t exist in my world,” you countered. “Magic and curses and stuff… none of that is real. It’s all mythical.” 

“If none a that stuff is real, how do you explain this place, sugartits?” Angel chimed in, cackling. 

He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t sure how to explain your situation. “I… I don’t know,” you stammered. “Maybe magic is real. Or maybe it’s something other than magic. Of course, there’s always the very real possibility that I’m just insane and all of this is in my head.” 

“Oh, no, my dear,” an eerily familiar voice resounded ominously throughout the room. “I’ve been in your head, and I can assure you… you’re as sane as I am.”

Everyone was looking around frantically, wondering where Alastor was hiding. Moments later, a shadow appeared on the floor close to your feet, causing you to jump back and yelp as it grew rapidly until the Radio Demon himself materialized next to you, grinning widely. You briefly caught the glares and nervous expressions from the others out of the corner of your eye as he loomed over you. Wincing at his misguided assurance, you replied, “Great. That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Ha! I do so enjoy your brazen disposition,” he jeered boisterously.

Your automatic response was to bite back with an aggressive jab, but after hearing what he was capable of, you instead avoided his gaze as you fought back the urge to antagonize him.

Immediately picking up on your hesitance, he carefully gauged your reaction as he stepped closer to you. “Now, now, darling. No need to muzzle yourself.” He then reached forward to place one of his slender fingers under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. It took everything you had to remain still and maintain eye contact rather than smack his hand away. 

Baring his teeth in a leering smile, his eyes morphed into intimidating red slits as he purred softly. “We are going to have so much fun.” Tags: @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @edgy-drama-queen @chasingfireflies1999 @galaxy-meteor @cecidit-31 @shadowclawstudio88

[coles-number-one-whore]

Warnings! Major Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Panic Attacks, Self-Hatred, Self-Deprecating, Self-blaming, Fusion 

Based on this post I made.

Fallen Kingdom

Roman was wondering. Wondering how the king was. Wondering how the others were with the King around.

He knocked on Remus' door hesitantly, flinching when the sound of several crashes were heard before Remus opened his door.

"Oh look who it is!" He grinned. "My dear brother! What brings you around?"

"I just wanted to know... Do you ever wonder how things were when we were one?" He watched as Remus' grin dropped and he shook his head. "Do you want to find out?"

"Dunno." The chaotic twin shrugged. "Do you wanna find out?

"It surely wouldn't hurt." Roman muttered.

Almost immediately, Remus' grin was back as he took his twin's hand.

"Then let this party start!"

~•~

"Woah. This place is so dark and freaky. It's amazing!"

"Yeah. Sure. Amazing. Sure. Where are we anyways?"

"I think we did it Ro! We're the King again!"

~•~

It was his fault. It was his fault and no one else's. It was Roman's fault and no one else's. He was the one who'd done it.

He was the one who'd asked Remus to do it with him. Roman was the one who'd asked Remus to fuse with him.

It was all his fault.

He couldn't stand going into the imagination anymore. It was all a reminder. Of when he and Remus had just split and there were no Light and Dark. When they were just them. Not the Prince and the Duke. Just brothers.

But now he was gone and his part of the imagination was slowly withering and disappearing.

Roman couldn't stand it.

He couldn't watch.

Remus was gone.

Did that make him the king now?

Roman had sat there, thinking about how Virgil always compared him and Remus to Thor and Loki, hoping that Remus had actually pulled a Loki and faked it so he could see Roman cry for once.

Deep down he knew that wasn't it.

He cried for him.

But nobody came.

~•~

Patton was baking that night. He had found a new recipe and wanted to try it out, he decided to call for Roman to be his taste-tester, since everyone else seemed too busy at the moment. "Roman, kiddo! Can you come downstairs for a bit and try my cupcakes?"

He frowned when he didn't hear any answer and went to investigate.

The door he found wasn't Roman's door though. It wasn't the red door with glitter stars on it, instead it was replaced by a normal white door with golden swirling patterns.

Patton rubbed his eyes in amazement, not believing what he was seeing. Surely it couldn't be...

The moral side took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to knock on the door.

"Oh! Hello there, Morality."

Patton couldn't help but let his smile spread.

~•~

"I think it's working Remus! See how happy Patton looks?"

"Yeah yeah I can see the froggy going all starry-eyed when he sees us."

"Where are you? This place is so dark, I can't even see you."

"Oh don't worry! I'm right here beside you. Just like I'm haunting you forever!"

~•~

Morality was curled up on the couch, staring at the air like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He still couldn't believe what had happened.

There was the broken vase, shattered into a million pieces and now lying on the ground. Usually it would've been Remus' fault. Usually it would've been Remus being too caught up in his disturbing thoughts to notice where he was going until he had broken something.

But not this time. This time it was Roman, with one of his more violent outbursts, when he insisted on blaming himself for what had happened.

Patton felt powerless. Before, when he felt like that, he used to bake. But there was some sort of awkward silence in the kitchen that he couldn't stand.

Before, when the silence was like that, Remus would've come around the kitchen and started just talking so the silence wouldn't linger for too long. It wasn't that Patton exactly like the ideas the chaotic side had, but there was just something endearing about how he would sit on the counter and babble on and on about the most random things, as long as you didn't pay too much attention to what he was exactly saying.

It was quiet. So so quiet.

He hated the quiet.

~•~

Logan didn't know what to make out from the King's return. He wasn't repressing his thoughts this time though, he really didn't have much of an opinion on it. He didn't exactly like the king that much anymore, he would deny it, but he might miss the twins constant banters and arguments, but he didn't dislike him either, he understood that the existence of one Creativity as a whole would benefit Thomas' mental state.

So when Patton very rudely rose up into his room excitedly, albeit without asking for permission, and babbling some incoherent nonesense as he dragged Logan to the living room, the logical side was a bit confused about all of Patton's commotion.

So he just accepted it. The King was back. There was only one Creativity from then on. Hopefully this would help things go better.

There was just one thing that slightly worried Logic. It was that the King insisted on calling himself Romulus. Normally, he couldn't care less about that and would move on from it, but there was this feeling inside of him that told him that wasn't it.

He looked into the myth about Romulus and hoped that it was just a sick joke. Remus was part of this after all, he would probably do something like that to make anyone who looked to deep freak out.

Right?

~•~

"Why Romulus though?"

"Nothing, just thought it sounded cool!"

"How come?"

"Don't tell me you haven't looked up what our names mean."

"..."

"Oh you definitely haven't. It's nothing, you can look it up after we decide to split again anyways."

~•~

Logan tried to ignore the tension in the mindscape as he cleaned up the lunch table and throwing away the mostly half-eaten food. Just a few more minutes. A few more minutes and you'll be back in your room.

He rose up in his room the second he was done cleaning up after everyone and plopped onto his bed.

He looked up at the painted stars on his ceiling, trying to make out the constellations in them and ignore how bad he still was at emotions.

He was sad. He wanted to cry. He had lost one of the few sides he'd call his friend. He had lost one of the few people who would drag him along for stargazing in the darker part of the imagination, where they could see the stars properly without all the lanterns flying around in his twin's half. He had lost the one person that would sit with him and they'd exchange creepy and gross facts.

Funny enough, he didn't cry when he thought of those moments, and how he won't have them again.

It seemed to only hit at the most random times, when he wasn't thinking about them. Like when he was reading a book or brushing his teeth or just wandering the mindscape out of boredom.

Those always seemed to be the moments that his mind like to remind him how he had told off the warning.

~•~

Virgil didn't like Romulus, to say the least. He didn't like how Patton would look at him with so much joy and how Logan didn't seem to mind him at all. All he could feel about the King was the crippling sense of dread that seemed to take over him whenever he looked at the side.

So he wondered. Wondered if the two sides could hear him if he talked to Romulus. Wondered if they'd split again if they were told to. Wondered if Remus would hear him of he decided to apologise for being a jerk to them after leaving.

Yet, everytime he tried to get even near the royal, he would feel a suffocating sense of despair that would drive him to getting as far away from Romulus as possible, even if the man was just waving and smiling kindly at him.

Maybe tomorrow, he told himself every day.

~•~

"Ro we should talk to the little nightmare."

"Oh I'm sure he'll be fine soon, Remus. No need to worry!"

"Alright I guess..."

~•~

Stupid little good-for-nothing. He couldn't breath. He couldn't think properly. Oh god, what was happening? Why couldn't he breath? Why didn't you just tell him, you useless hypocrite?

Remus. Remus was gone. He hadn't apologised and now he'd never have the chance to.

You really are dumb. What made you think he would forgive you anyway? Especially after how you were that last time.

He used to be happy with them too. Just the three of them. The dark sides. The terror's of the mindscape. It was a fun time.

Him and Remus would cause trouble all the time, and then Janus would come after them and clean up their mess. Sometimes they'd pull pranks on the other residents of the mindscape. Sometimes they would just sit around with a few board games and a batch of cupcakes or cookies, stay up all night playing and later wake up and see that they had fallen sleep on the ground. Remus would always win Space Encounters and Candyland.

The thought of those times only made more tears slip out from his eyes and blur his vision.

Idiot.

Useless.

~•~

Janus would be lying if he said he didn't miss Remus, then again, he was Deceit. The darker part of the mindscape was now quiet without Remus' constant chatter.

He would be lying if he said he was happy with the arrangement.

But he'd also be lying if he said it wasn't helping Thomas.

Wasn't he a liar though?

~•~

"You've been quiet. Is something wrong?"

"..."

"Remus? Are you alright?"

"I-- Yeah, I'm fine. Do you know that if mermaid's existed, they'd have tp pee from their belly button?"

"...I did not need that imagery."

~•~

It was cold. Janus pulled the blanket over himself tighter. Once upon a time, Remus and Virgil would also huddle under it with him. But now Remus was gone and Virgil hated him and it was colder than ever.

He was pitiful, hiding under his blankets all day and flipping off anyone who came near him. It was just like when Virgil had dumped them for the 'Light' Sides.

Except back then Remus helped.

Back then Remus would ignore all the little things that bothered him, whether it was that Virgil didn't like them anymore or that his favourite show had ended. Instead he popped around his room with baked goods and cheesy comedy movies to try tonmake him feel better.

He wondered if he should just stay in his room forever, maybe then someone else would come for him.

~•~

Romulus didn't know when it started. At first it was just a tingling in his chest, a sensation of something being wrong.

Little by little, it got more and more, until its pain was unbearable. Until he could barely breath anymore. He fell to the ground.

~•~

"Are you there? You've been awfully quiet lately."

"..."

"Remus?"

"..."

"

"Remus?!"

~•~

Roman gasped as he got back om his feet. The split had left him in a daze. "Remus?" He looked around, panicking when his brother was nowhere to be seen.

He screamed when he realized what had happened.

Remus was gone.

There was no Duke now.

There was only the Prince.

~•~

A/N: All kinds of comments are appreciated. Short comments, Long comments, Very short comments, extra gigantic comments, Extra hearts, Hating me for creating this, EVERYTHING!

Taglist: @stationery-cum @meowthefluffy

[godkilller]

          out of character.  I know in the past week or two I’ve posted a lot about fight threads / writing action, which is awesome and one of my favorite things to do with Gin, but I also feel like I’ve never mentioned the flip side; NOT picking a fight. Though he may seem to always be trying to rile others with his piece-of-shit attitude and approach, Gin’s not down to fight 24/7, especially with these particular characters.

PEOPLE GIN WOULD ABSOLUTELY AVOID FIGHTING:

  - Matsumoto Rangiku           A given. Unfortunately, Gin wouldn’t avoid the fight due to any fears or intimidation; he knows Rangiku’s strengths and weaknesses intimately and would feel confident in defeating her unhindered if he must. But he abhors the concept of meeting her in an actual fight as enemies, faced with the very real issue that he’ll inevitably have to use his power against her. This is something Gin loathes, it pulls him completely out of his typical mindset of avoiding her to a quite literal confrontation of his childish hypocrisy; fighting her, as her enemy... how in the fucking world is this protecting her? Was this what he wanted when he was a child all those years ago? How far has he fallen that he’s somehow twisted himself into believing that vengeance against Aizen is somehow worth doing this to her? No, Gin would much rather incapacitate her and avoid that internal conflict at all costs. 

  - Yamamoto Genryusai Shigekuni           Gin’s not keen on being scolded while also burnt to a crisp, despite feeling relatively comfortable about facing off against a man who is entirely likely to prolong the drawing of their own blade; better of a chance to snipe him before Ryujin Jakka makes an entrance... right? No... realistically, even if he got a killshot on the old man from the safest distance courtesy of his own Bankai, Gin feels that Yamamoto would still somehow find a way to wipe the floor with him. That’s his luck. Even though he was prepared to ‘help’ Aizen fight Yamamoto in Karakura Town, Gin preferred to simply watch... and quietly cheer for Yamamoto, despite knowing he wouldn’t win. If Yamamoto somehow did win, Gin would much rather hightail it than hang around and see what fate awaited him at the elder’s mercy.

  - Unohana Retsu           There’s a distinction in her aura, the way she carries herself akin to a predator lying in wait, that Gin’s relatively familiar / experienced with ... so he’s not fucking around with that. Aizen himself was sure to avoid anything dire involving her during their traitorous plots, so Gin’s content to follow in his example. He also sees no scenario in which he’d ever be faced with her wrath, regardless, since the Gotei 13 seem to be hellbent on keeping her out of conflicts. Gin doesn’t know what her history is, but from the indications Aizen gave him and the lengths he went to trick specifically her with his illusions, it’s not much fun. Best to not poke that beast. He’ll sooner play inept, incapable, than ever raise his sword at her.

  - Zaraki Kenpachi           Tousen had the pleasure of dealing with his absolute reckless and relentless mass of energy a while back. While there are age-old myths and stories surrounding speed vs. strength, Gin would rather not put himself into the spotlight by challenging someone that doesn’t even fight for anything other than the pure exhilaration of it all -- so really, what would be the point? They have no qualms with one another, anyway. If Kenpachi ran at Gin, Gin would simply give him the most boring and un-enticing avoidant fight of his life. Eventually he’d move along. Better than awakening that second wind of his; Shinso’s aim is staying relatively non-lethal as a precaution. Gin’s not too ashamed to Sentan Hakuja his way out of that mess.

PEOPLE GIN WOULD NOT ENJOY FIGHTING, BUT WOULD IF PUSHED:

  - Kurotsuchi Mayuri           It’s no secret that Mayuri is absolutely detestable when it comes to battle. Gin knows that even though Kamishini No Yari’s poison is a perfectly sealed secret as well as a non-negatable cell destroying attack, Mayuri’s the type to probably have some sort of annoying counter for it. Does he even have any organs for Gin to stab? Probably not. And Gin’s not interested in getting himself drugged by somehow puncturing some sack of gas replacing Mayuri’s left lung that’ll discreetly coat his blade and waft into his nose or some shit. No thanks. Why did Urahara release this disgusting maniac back out into the wild? Someone please put him back. Gin can really only guess at how to beat him if faced with the task: perhaps lopping off the captain’s head would do the trick? At the very least Gin wouldn’t have to listen to him rambling in that whiny voice at 5x slowed speeds whilst battling some kind of bad trip.

  - Ukitake Jūshirō           Not quite pity, but maybe something close to it; Gin would really prefer to talk things out with Ukitake. This man’s a kind soul, and far too non-violent for Gin to ever justify attacking in a malicious manner  ( that being said, Gin knows to aim for his lungs, they’re weak and once he succumbs to one of his fits, he’s down for the count )  ... it’s not something the traitor is particularly proud of, nor is he eager to seek violence against someone who has done their best to be a fatherly figure to the younger members of the Gotei 13. There’s sentiment, yet Gin can remove himself from that whisper of care if he must. At the very least, Shinso’s aim will be one of mercy; to make things end as quickly as possible for the older man.

  - Kira Izuru           Gin’s previous lieutenant of the Third Division has gone through enough, he’s not about to traumatize the boy further by facing him in battle. He’s not one to baby an individual, and Izuru’s not one to need babying, so if his ex-subordinate decides he’s ready to try and take down his betrayer, Gin will honor that request. Wabisuke’s unique ability calls for a battle to end swiftly, and with minimal to no strikes landing against the curved blade. Gin figures he can aim for his lieutenant’s arms, or hands in particular, and make it impossible or at the very least a great hindrance to swing his sword whilst those areas are injured. Nothing fatal or permanent, of course, there’s plenty of damage for Izuru to sort out as is. Gin’ll rip that band-aid off if he has to, he’ll even say sorry once his subordinate falls into that defeated and forlorn state.

  - Any of the Espada           The Espada are creations, pawns, willed into power by Aizen’s manipulative ways. Gin’s made sure to not seek out any particular attachment to beings who so devotedly outcry their loyalty to Aizen, whom he loathes. What could they possibly have in common with one another that could justify Gin giving a single damn? Nah, he’ll reluctantly deal with any of these powerhouses if need be... but they’re just so bothersome! Luckily, both Tousen and Gin are well-acquainted with their individual weaknesses, as well as various go-to methods in how to best subjugate them -- having been tasked with enforcing and maintaining control of Aizen’s Arrancar army. Gin doesn’t particularly fear or feel intimidated by any specific Espada, though battle against them seems tiresome and a great big ordeal that could be made significantly smaller if they just sat quiet and obeyed. Gin’s preference would be to kill these beasts before they can venture into their released states, lop their heads off or skewer their masks for ultimate imbalance, but otherwise he’ll simply chat them out of trying him.

PEOPLE GIN WOULD RATHER TALK HIS WAY OUT OF FIGHTING AGAINST

  - Your OC           Gin prefers harboring knowledge on his opponent before ever considering to draw his sword on them; he likes knowing more about them than they do about him. More often than not, Gin doesn’t know your OC, and is typically indifferent, nor is he generally challenged or threatened by an OC. He’ll carry on teasing and taunting them, though, to better get a read on their temperament, their perceived weaknesses, their own hubris revealed if Gin pokes and prods enough with his banter. There’s rarely a circumstance in which the ex-captain becomes bloodthirsty, especially against a character he hardly knows. Sleep soundly at night now knowing that Gin is less likely to hunt down your OC to murder them. Exceptions being characters who know personal information not feasible for them to know; like Gin’s desire to kill Aizen, or Gin’s connection / feelings for Rangiku. These are red flags to me, the mun, that there is godmodding happening. Realistically, I’ll just drop the thread / fade out, but if the stars align? Gin will kill your character for the breach in his secrecy. Don’t do it!

          If your character’s name is not on this list, assume Gin has no qualms fighting them, or is otherwise indifferent towards them. Gin isn’t necessarily EAGER to fight anyone, and would much rather observe from a safe distance, knowing Shinso could easily cut down an enemy he deemed to be too threatening to deal with himself -- he’s one to indulge the classic of surprise attacks, not in a properly announced manner indicating he’s entered the fight. Gin will graciously offer most characters an out if they find themselves a little too headstrong in attempting to fight him, but eventually he’ll deem the situation worthy of being properly dealt with.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless) 15- York

Pairing: Ivar x Artemis (OFC)

Word Count: 3422

Warnings: Minor violence

14- Propositions

...

Crete was an island of fame in the Greek world.

It is said that Zeus, king of the gods, was conceived and raised there, on an obscure mountain, in an obscure cave. It is said that the fiercest warriors were bred there, fiercer than any Spartan or Athenian. It is said that Crete was the first Greek island that bore civilization in the Mediterranean. They were proud islanders, and yet, it had produced such a stupid woman.

The islands of gods and heroes, of myths and legends, could not have helped such a sorry soul. Such a pity, to have a woman named after a powerful goddess, only to be caught in the web of a heathen from of the North.

She was sure she'd never see her home again.

There was a strained silence despite all the noise they were surrounded by. When Ivar spares her a glance, she tenses at his expression.

"Surely you have an explanation for your actions, hm?" He grits out through clenched teeth.

"I-"

"I haven't given you permission to speak." He spits. Obviously displeased, his brows twitch in irritation and his pink lips were pulled back into a snarl like an angry dog.

"You gave me your word that you would not do this," His rage continued to build up behind his words, "I've given you privilege above all slaves, yet you attempt to betray me?" Artemis's face collided with the side of the chariot when they pass over a particular stone across the road. She groans, clutching her head to soothe the pain.

"You are foolish." She hears the last part of his mutterings, remaining silent as he kept on with his berating. As he steadly rambled on his grievances, Artemis buries a hand within her wild mane, hissing when she touches the tender spot on her scalp. There were traces of dried blood on her fingertips.

"Bjorn must have fed you such pretty little words, hm?" Ivar barks down at her, "You danced right into his grasp." She goes on staring at her stained fingertips, only coming back to focus when Ivar tugs at a strand of her hair.

"I'm talking to you, Artemis." He seethes.

"He offered to take me home." She says with fluttering eyes. Small dots danced across her vision.

"For a price, I'm sure."

"He needed a translator."

"So he gifts, only to take back." Ivar scoffs, worrying his lip out of habit.

"He said he wanted to right his wrongs." She repeats Bjorn's words sadly.

"You want your freedom. You want to go back to your little island. I understand," Ivar's tone was anything but understanding, yet he continued, "But it will be done when I say." She hears him without processing his words. Instead, she lays her head against the side of the chariot, her knees tucked under her chin. Her eyes began to flutter as sleep tried to claim her. She was far too tired and disoriented to fear whatever consequences she may face.

"Hey!" Ivar yells, pinching her cheek a few times, "Stay awake. You are no use to anyone dead." He jerks the chariot to a stop with a tight pull of the reigns, grabbing at her collar to secure her before she could meet the ground.

"Hvitserk!" Ivar barks, "Help her up. She needs to walk the sleep off, no thanks to you."

"You could not bare to live without her, could you Ivar?" Hvitserk jokes, quickly going over to help her up so that the procession may continue. Ivar doesn't grace his brother with an answer, keeping his eyes focused on the passing meadows and the road ahead.

Artemis stumbled into Hvitserk before catching her own footing.

"I hope I did not hurt you too bad." He tells her, waving his axe about by the blunt end. His lopsided grin sent a fury in her bones, and her hands balled into weak fists.

"You struck me?" It came out so much weaker than she intended it.

"I was only following Ivar's orders." He says with hands up in surrender, his smirk not faltering.

"Since when do you follow orders?" She mutters.

"Since I became the leader of our Great Army." Ivar reeks of confidence, his gloating words reaching Ubbe's ears. The older brother was silent up until that point.

"You mean we are the leaders, little brother. It is not you alone who commands the army." The look on Ubbe's tired face said it all. He was beyond annoyed, exhausted of the bickering between his brothers, and especially tired of Ivar.

"We shall see once we get to York." There was a smug look on Ivar's face that made her want to strike him.

And their journey continued.

They stopped along the way, a chance to relieve themselves and rest their horses. Artemis laid out on a patch of grass, fighting to keep her eyes open. She stares up at the passing clouds, the shy sun finally showing itself. The warmth felt nice, yet had her feeling empty. It wasn't the same heat of the sun that rose in the east.

"Artemis!" Ivar's voice was always so loud, enough to be heard over the wild chatter of the warriors, "I told you not to sleep! Come here!" He commands. She sighs, sitting up slowly before walking over to the chariot. Her eyes were unfocused, but not so much as before.

"If you sleep," He reminds her, "There is a chance you will not wake up." He offers her his waterskin, watching her drink before beckoning her forward.

"Are you not curious to know who disclosed your plan?"

"I have my suspicions."

Ivar chuckles. Whatever ounce of affection she had for the blacksmith was surely gone now.

Artemis searches for Arvid in the crowd of men, easily spotting him. She glares when he brings his eyes to hers and it took all her strength to not run over there and punch him. Ivar grabs her attention by tossing her the cloak again.

"We must keep moving. Hvitserk leads the army. Go walk with Ubbe." Putting on the cloak despite the warm air, she catches up to Ubbe. They walk in comfortable silence for a majority of the way, until he decides to speak.

"Ivar will not let you out of his sight." He comments, looking over his shoulder to see his little brother with his eyes trained on them.

"I am aware."

"I understand your reasons for attempting to flee. I have freed Margrathe so that she may have a better life, but perhaps the timing was not in your favor."

"It was the only chance I had." Ubbe gives her a sad smile.

"I know. But I consider you lucky."

"You would not be the first to say it."

"It seems the gods are having their fun with you."

"If there is any truth to that, then I pray they grow tired of me." He chuckles.

"If only it were that simple." He agrees, pushing the short pieces of his hair away from his face. "As fickle as Ivar is, he has grown a fondness for you. With Sigurd dead and Floki gone, I fear for him."

"I cannot mend his pride, nor his heart."

"And you cannot pretend that you haven't grown a fondness for him either," Ubbe counters with a shrug.

"Why should it matter?"

Ubbe looks up towards skies, watching the sun disappear behind the clouds before meeting the storm in her eyes with the calming waves of his own.

"Perhaps the gods have a plan for you."

...

There was no sun in York. Only gray skies and equally gray clouds, just like the rest of England.

Its walls were tall and its wooden gate massive, but one look at the perimeter as a whole, and one knew it was a city of prominence, but in most cases, good things come to an end, and surely this would be the end of York.

Artemis sits against the wall of the church, her hands pressed over her ears in a weak attempt to drown out the screams. She pants, her heart picking up speed and her eyes watered.

She curls tighter into herself, her cloak a useless barrier between a futile safe haven and the violence surrounding her. The stomping of the warriors grew louder as they pass. The screams were shrill, loud enough to wake the dead, suddenly cut short by a slash to the stomach or a hit to the skull.

Animals ran free, goats, sheep and chickens. Dogs barked in the distance, some searching for their owners, others feasting upon the bodies of the slain left to rot.

"You Christian's are all weak, even if you do not all look the same." Artemis lifts her head from her knees, glaring at the brown haired girl without a name. "You look stupid, cowering the way you do." The young shieldmaiden beside her joked, swinging a small axe in her hand with a taunting smile.

"You look stupid, watching over a slave when the real warriors fight." Artemis snarks back, and the girl immediately growls, lifting her axe as if to swing it.

"I told you to watch her, not kill her," Ivar interrupts, his bloodied hands gripping into the dirt, "But with the way you grip that axe, I doubt you would. Leave." The girl scurries off while Ivar plants himself at a decent distant away from Artemis.

"Do you want to die? Is that it?" He questions, fixing his legs. He rubs the dirt from his hands over the sides of his already dirty trousers, waiting for an answer. She doesn't reply, nor does she look at him.

"Do not mind her," Ivar sighs, "She's decent."

"You had her watching over me."

"As a precaution, you see. You are quite cunning." Whatever he was worried about her doing didn't matter anymore. She had no means of escape.

"Your expression is not at all pleasant." Ivar nudges her shoulder with the flat side of his axe and she flinches, turning to watch him wipe the blood from his face.

"We are not surrounded by pleasant things."

"Veikr," Ivar says with a roll of his eyes, "You cannot handle such things, baby bird." His anger seemed at bay for now. Keeping silent, she leans her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.

"Come now, I hate that look," He tells her, "It almost makes me feel quite terrible." Ivar sighs. He follows her lead, leaning his head against the wall. "You grieve these people." He states, his eyes scanning over the town. His army was still wreaking havoc.

"I do." She answers truthfully.

"Then do what you must and...what is it that you Christian's do? Pray for their souls?" They both turn to look at each other, their eyes intensely fighting a silent war.

"Why did you leave?" He finally whispers. She could have sworn there was a sadness in his tone.

"It was an opportunity I could not refuse." She answers just as quietly, dragging a finger to draw circles into the damp earth.

"That was not your decision to make." Ivar grunts.

"I realize that now." He expected her to sound bitter, but all his ears picked up was exhuastion. They sat in silence after that, comfortably quiet in each other's company.

"I am still angry with you." Ivar begins.

"I know."

"And you do not deserve my forgiveness." He pouts in the most childish way, banishing all seriousness with that one look. "But perhaps you can earn it," She looks at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

"Get familiar with the forge," He says, "I have a special task I want you to complete."

...

Ivar declared his plan quite vividly: he wanted legs of iron.

He wanted a contraption that would help him navigate on his legs. He was tired of being pathetic, having to drag his legs along with the strength of his arms.

The process began immediately with the measurements of Ivar's frail legs. It was a challenge. He would flinch, getting upset whenever her small hands would graze the fabric of his trousers. She was not inflicting pain, but he was incredibly nervous, as the only outsider that gazed at his malformed limbs was Margrethe. Artemis made him immensely uncomfortable, but she was infuriatingly patient, as if she'd done this many times before.

It was only until Ivar finally loosened his pride and felt comfortable did she take the measuring rod to probe and record the length and width of his thighs and calves. The measurements were quite small.

Having her kneel before him in such a state gave him an odd pleasure. She was in such concentration, so absorbed in her work that he was sure nothing could distract her, not even their close proximity.

He wanted so much to reach out and touch her face, to feel how smooth her skin felt under his calloused fingers. He refrains from doing so, silently cursing his dilemma to the gods if they'd hear him.

He should be furious with her, and he was...at first. He couldn't explain why or how, but he knew he was growing a certain affection for her. It was strange.

And she was just as angry with him as he had been with her. Ivar knew her decision was rational, who wouldn't escape back home if given the chance? Ivar wasn't stupid, but he was selfish, and Artemis was his property by northern law.

He knew Arvid only warned him of her plans for his own selfish desire of her, but Ivar was grateful nonetheless, because he only realised at the point that he wanted her with him, maybe even needed her, and perhaps, in the very back of his mind, that is why he had not considered freeing her. She would leave as soon as she was given chance.

He didn't want that. He was indeed selfish.

So he feigned anger and annoyance with her becuase it was easy for him. The growing affection he felt towards her was foreign, but the anger was familiar, and that was what he reflected.

Her anger would pass with the winds as his anger slowly did, he knew. For now, he would continue on as is and enjoy in the conquering of his new city. Once his iron legs are complete, he would be a man.

...

Fighting was inevitable, as King Ecbert's son, Athelwulf, who was now king, attacked York with his 2 sons and an army. They posed a great threat at first, for they were formidable fighters, but Ivar was always a step ahead of them. The crippled bastard had a natural talent for strategies and seemed to be far more superior in matters of war than Ubbe and Hvitserk. The men began to look at the youngest for direction.

The menial task that she was once spared of were given to her once more, added on top of her forging duties.

It was punishment for her failed escape, but she didn't mind it. It stimulated her mind, and kept her distracted. She occasionally prepared baths for Ivar, a task he never dared to give her until recently.

That is when she would hear him talk.

He would talk of his future plans, often pulling out an image of York's settlement drawn out on old parchment found within the churches archives. There were a system of underground passage ways from the days of Roman occupation, and Ivar intended to use them in case of attack. He was right of course, but he rarely revealed his plans to his brothers, causing much tension them. But as expected, Ivar did not care much for their opinions.

The Saxon's wished to take back their Christian city, but failed in the attempt, ultimately retreating. The rain beat on them fiercely, much like it always did since they arrived to England.

Artemis had never seen the likes of war. In fact, she was innocent towards violence for most of her young life, until she faced Bjorn and his men almost a year prior. She watched from the cracks within the walls of the forgery, men slaughtered on both sides, swords and axes clashing in a dance to the death. Swords and axes she herself had welded and repaired.

Alfhild was with her, as well as other women who did not part take in the battle. Alfhild began to worry, staring through the cracks as best she could while biting her already short nails, pulling at her yellow hair. Arvid was nowhere in sight, lost among the sea of men. He was an excellent warrior as most men of Kattegat were, and Artemis reminded Alfhild of this.

She didn't know why, but she prayed. She prayed for her own safety, and the safety of the women. Despite what he'd done, she prayed for Arvid, wishing him no harm. She even prayed for Ivar, wondering if he was among the dead. She told herself it was more for her own protection than for genuine worry, but that might have been a lie.

Ivar was last seen on his chariot charging through the crowd, but he disappeared after that, and for all she knew, dead.

Hvitserk fought well, talented in the skills of a warrior, cutting down any man that came his way. Ubbe held an air of command, his rope like hair plastering on his face with every swing of his bloody sword. The fighting raged on when suddenly she heard a mighty scream that seemed to stop the world in its track.

"You cannot kill me! I am Ivar the Boneless!"

Well, he was definitely not dead.

...

Artemis knelt over the small stairway that led to the makeshift throne. She was made to wash the steps, suds of soap floating about in the air. Some of the men watched her, causing her great discomfort, but they knew better than to do much more than look. When Ivar appeared, they scattered like rats in daylight.

"Why must you mope about, hmm? You should rejoice in our victory," Ivar calls out to her from the doorway, his voice bouncing off the church walls. The men cheered for their leader, filling him with immense pride for their success against the Saxon's.

Artemis looks to him after realizing he was speaking to her. The darkness in the church made him appear as nothing more than a shadow. A standing shadow.

"I've no reason to celebrate." She responds, dipping the brush into the soapy water, continuing her relentless scrubbing over the stone floor.

"Of course there is! I have defeated the army of Wessex!" The scraping of iron against the stone floor catches her attention.

Ivar was finally wearing his iron braces. He looked so much more confident, the missing piece of himself he'd been wanting his whole life. Being around him now for some time, she recognized the pain he was in, though he did well to mask it. Even with his iron braces he still suffered from aches and pains, even more so now than before, but it wasn't enough to deter him from his new image.

She assumed Ivar would be tall, but he seemed massive, as tall as a tree, walking with the aid of the crutch she made for him. He takes cautious steps, being careful not to make any sudden movements that would imbalance him. He looked so childlike, so proud of himself, and it almost brought a smile to her lips.

She too felt pride. She had never created something of the sort before, and the iron braces were no easy task. She had worked on it for days, and like her other tasks, it helped to alleviate her mind. Hammer against iron was always a welcomed distraction.

There were warriors the trailed behind him, holding onto a rough looking man bound in chains. The man was dirty from battle, covered from head to toe in dirt, blood smeared across his face and over his leather armor. His dark hair was cropped messily, and his eyes were a calculating blue.

Ivar motions for her to stand, snd she complies, wiping her hands down before facing him. He smirks, finally satisfied to be looking down at her instead of the other way around.

"Meet the new prisoner." Ivar says, pointing at the man,"Come now, we do not bite." He beckons the man in the Saxon tongue, laughing when one of his warriors pushes him forward.

"This is Bishop Heahmund."

...

@heavenly1927 @didiintheblog @rastakami23

[darkpoisonouslove]

“The First Word I Can Never Say (Not to You Anyway)”

Summary: Griffin and Valtor have always preferred actions over words and what they did with each other when they met did not left them willing to share their feelings. Twenty years later there are still unspoken things between them that do not need to be said to be understood but will still poison them anyway. Part 1 of “The Poison of a Gift”.

I am totally obsessed with the Three Dark Crowns series and it kept me up for 2 hours last night as I was trying to assign roles to all the Winx characters if they were living in that world. Here is a glimpse of it that barely shows for my work but I may actually decide to write more once I piece the whole thing together. This is just the Valtor and Griffin storyline that started all of it. I absolutely had to write this when I realized how well Griffin would land herself to a poisoner.

Notes on the setting in case there is something unclear.

There's a bit of a mystery here that I've hinted at slightly in case I decide to expand this but it is just a one shot for now. You can try to guess what the thing is, though, but it's totally okay if you can't since I didn't try to make it very discoverable.

Infinity by Jaymes Young is giving me the same vibes as this fic so you can check it out if you want.

She was special. She had always been.

She'd been his first taste of the Island. Of its magic. Of its poison. All very seductive to a mainlander like him with a strong heart, strong stomach and even stronger ambition.

He'd first seen her at a party but he could have never suspected how strong the effects of the little vial she'd been emptying into her glass of wine would be.

"Not strong enough for you?" he'd asked, thinking he knew what he was getting himself into. Alcohol was something that he had an expertise in so it had been a good assumption. But assumptions didn't cut it at the Island when it was a place that demanded blood to live. He'd almost asked for his own death without knowing it. Sometimes he thought he had. For he could never join her, yet he'd done so anyway.

"I do not care for untainted food and drinks," she'd said only, her eyes on his, expectant. He'd been supposed to know how to continue the conversation and not bring it to a halt. She had made him a fish out of water like no other woman could have ever dreamed of doing. But he'd never stood before a woman of the Island before. She'd been the first.

"Untainted?" he'd asked, watching the look in her golden eyes change to recognition. In them he was the mainlander now, all out of place, and while he'd always been the outsider even on the Main Land and he'd had an excuse for it at least at the present situation, it had still felt dreadful. To know he didn't fit in her world like he'd never had anywhere but he'd learned to hide it. Yet, she'd exposed his secret in a matter of seconds, her eyes seeing through him like she'd just burned the outer layers out of the way to get to his core.

"Unpoisoned," she'd explained, stashing the small vial back under her belt where she must have been hiding it. A good place to hide a treasure or a weapon and he'd supposed the glass container could count as either depending on the situation. And on whether she was telling the truth or not.

He'd watched her lift the glass to her lips slowly as if to counter the frantic beating of his heart as his mind had raced in uncertainty like it'd never done before in the company of a lady.

He'd heard the tales of the Island and the gifts spread through its people – elementals and naturalists, war-gifted and poisoners. It all sounded like myths or horror stories to the people on the Main Land, especially when it came to the triplet queens sharing a cradle that bound them to murdering each other. He'd known it to be true–all of it–yet, he still hadn't been able to take his eyes off her lips dipping into the poisoned wine even if he'd known she'd only been so brave since she'd known it couldn't hurt her. She'd been born with it and the gift was hers to flaunt in other people's faces. Giftless people. Like him.

"You don't believe me?" she'd asked when he'd kept staring at her as if he'd never seen a woman before. He hadn't. Not like her. She'd been the first. "Here," she'd handed him the glass, "hold it for me," she'd said before he could have spilled the protests his panic bore to life but her smugness had let him know she'd already soaked them all up and it'd been satisfying enough for her to show him some mercy.

He'd taken the glass, free of his fear but burdened by the knowledge it'd been there. He was not like her and for the first time the story of his life had looked more like a tragedy of self-pity instead of the fueling spite for his ambition.

She'd taken off her brooch, the one that he hadn't noticed had actually been a scorpion that had been still somewhat alive with legs writhing helplessly as it'd been pinned to the shoulder strap of her dress, and had broken off the tail. She'd popped it into her mouth and chewed it with pleasure like it'd been a delicacy and not a small dose of death. Well, to her it certainly had been.

He'd watched entranced when the spectacle had been so intoxicating. He'd had to have been disgusted by it–especially when she'd been holding the rest of the dead scorpion's body in her hand still–but he hadn't been able to find it in himself to look away from the strength of her gift, how it kept her alive when she'd just taken a bite of death. He'd never seen anything like it and the magic of the Island had gotten to his head making him wish he'd had it as well. Especially when the embodiment of it had been so enchanting – all luscious purple hair going on for days and pale skin contrasting with the red of her dress like snow soaked with blood.

"I don't normally consume my accessories but a demonstration is always worth a ruined outfit," she'd said as she'd taken her glass back from him to wash down any remaining pieces from the wrapper of her treat by adding some nectar to it that'd almost turned him green. Green with envy that he wasn't like her so that he could have tasted the lack of mortality dripping from her lips.

All he had were the shadows of his dreams. Always three, always burning into his mind with their soullessness that scorched harder than the holes of molten lava that could never pass for eyes. He'd chalk them up to illusions of his ambition-poisoned mind although that made no sense considering their separate existence. He'd always been a one-track being so why have three beacons of his aspiration? It had been a mystery he'd demeaned on purpose when he hadn't been familiar with the depths of magic. But she'd been right there with her taste for poison to guide him in the core of it and his own being.

"Perhaps it can be saved." He'd taken out the circle shaped box out of his inner pocket to present her with the brooch inside. "Not so suited to your tastes perhaps but will make for a good accent."

She'd taken the golden dragon with eyes of crystal that could as well have been ice, her dead scorpion tossed away where it would scare the servants when everything was over and they'd have to make the remains of the party disappear to leave the hall inviting for another one. "You'll have to find me when the party is over if you want this back," she'd said as she'd put the piece of jewelry on and it had sat on her dress like it'd been made to adorn it.

It'd been supposed to be a gift but it'd worked better as an offering to her gift anyway. He could have had another trinket made for his purposes at any time but the exquisite piece of art had found its rightful place on her body completing her outfit after she'd been so generous to sacrifice a piece of it to give him the most memorable moment of his life.

"Of course, I'll find you," he'd said as he'd pocketed his empty box. He'd need it to store his precious jewelry once she returned it to him with as many traces of her on it left as he could hope for.

She'd smiled at him like she'd just caught her prey and had disappeared from the niche where they'd been hidden from prying eyes only for him to not see her until the end of the party.

"Here's your dragon, Valtor," she'd left it in his hand, her fingers slithering over his skin so fast they hadn't been able to distract him from the fact she'd found his name on her own. It was rather impressive when he was an unknown phantom of the Main Land among the islanders.

"Thank you for taking care of it," he'd said as he'd put it on his lapel, the box seeming too harsh a confinement for it after it'd been weighing on her body. "And I have something for you, too, Griffin."

She hadn't looked impressed and there'd been no reason for her to have been, really.

Everyone knew Griffin Sylvane, head of the Sylvane family and the Black Council despite the fact that Queen Luna that the Sylvanes had been fostering had died to her sister. Queen Marion had retaliated for being forced to kill her sister and had chosen to continue the reign of the poisoners even with an elemental queen on the throne. A bold move but she'd had nothing to be afraid of when they couldn't dispose of her before she'd given birth to the next set of triplets and after that she'd be old news anyway so she'd had nothing to lose except for the support of the family that had raised her only to have her betray them but that had hardly mattered when she was the Queen Crowned.

Valtor had presented Griffin with the small vial of deadly nightshade tincture that had earned her graces like his research hadn't when it had been nothing more than asking the first servant he'd seen who she was and immediately getting the answer.

"Belladonna." She'd smiled as she'd taken it from him and had seemed too enamored with the gift to notice his momentary pause as he'd never heard that name of the plant but she was the poisoner so he could trust her with that. "Unfortunately, there's nothing left to consume it with," she'd said, the sparks in her eyes certainly suggestive and burning away any regret there might have appeared to be.

"I have whiskey I bought from the Island in my hotel," Valtor had offered, readily inviting danger into his bed even though he'd just given her her greatest weapon. He'd be a fool to think she wouldn't use it but who they were had been enough to provide comfort and security to the idea when she had a gift and he didn't.

"I can't be seen joining you in your quarters," Griffin had said. A challenge and not rejection. A challenge that he would have been up to any day of the week for any woman. He certainly hadn't thought it'd be for someone special.

She'd been the first. Of course, he hadn't tried to fool himself that he would keep to his vows like a good husband would but he'd thought he'd be faithful to his bride more than barely a few months. And he would have been. If he hadn't met Griffin. He would have resisted another woman but her he'd needed to have even when she'd been poison personified.

That had been proven even more true if he hadn't been convinced already as he'd watched her add the whole tincture to her whiskey and then drink it slowly, savoring the taste of death entering her veins only to stay there like it was home. She'd looked so powerful as she'd finished all of it and had drank some water before kissing him to wash the threat to his life away. She'd looked invincible. And he'd hated the disillusion that he'd entered along with her embrace.

She hadn't been special. She'd trembled just like every other woman he'd bedded, had trembled like his heart in its outraged state of waking up from her spell. And it had only shook more when he'd realized he couldn't get out of it all the way. Because she was special. Special to him.

She'd been the first. The first to pull him away from his wife. The first to show him the magic of the Island. The first to help him understand himself.

His shadows were the parental figures he'd modeled himself after. He'd had to take example from somewhere when he hadn't had his own parents to teach him the intricacies of life and he'd borrowed from the entities in his head letting them live through him in exchange. He had the temperament of a storm to push him through life with the strength of his anger of which he had plenty to spare on everyone and everything. He was a master of manipulations and illusions, a social chameleon instead of the street rat he'd been pegged for, and his skillful deceptions had gotten him from the gutter to the top of the food chain and to the cursed Island that had been supposed to be the peak of his efforts and not a poisonous dish with the potential to bring him down. He'd made his heart harbor the cold of the heartless monsters in his visions and that was the only thing that could stop the toxins from spreading until he could make his escape.

Griffin had been asleep and so easy to kill when her guard had been down that he'd almost wanted to do it to get his revenge against her for leading him to believe she was the most powerful woman he'd ever met. He could have done it and that had been why he hadn't. There hadn't been any challenge in it. Only ruin to come after the deed.

He'd barely managed to pick his pants up when his progress had been stopped by the golden of her eyes burning in the night.

"Where are you going?" she'd asked, her voice calm instead of alerted but not drowsy even if he'd known she'd been asleep. That had been a fact but her vulnerability had started to seem more of an illusion and he'd had to hate her for tightening her spell around him once again. But he hadn't been able to when she'd been dragging the image of a challenge out of his mind to merge with.

"I'll have to hunt down another present for my wife," he'd said as he'd moved to get dressed as if his fascination with her hadn't been growing when she'd met the blow with resolve of stone and hadn't let it move her even a tad as if she was resistant to the lightning bolt of his words as well as to the belladonna's poison. "I can't risk giving her something that Griffin Sylvane was seen wearing by half of the Island's high society, now can I?"

He'd given a smile–one that would have worked on a mainlander girl but here on the Island held no more power than a giftless person struggling against the poison claiming every inch of their body–while he'd hoped that she'd ask him for the dragon brooch as much as he'd hoped that she wouldn't when he would've gladly given it to her but he'd wanted to keep it, too. Stashed away in the depths of a forgotten box in the attic like the memories of her skin on his would be buried in the very back of his mind where they'd be safe from the world and he'd be safe from them.

"I'll bid you good luck with that right after you get me out of here," Griffin had said and the cold of her gaze had been flaming with so much power she could have burned her way out of the hotel with no one having the slightest chance to notice her face through the smoke filling the space around to the brim. She could have gotten out of there on her own and they'd both been well aware of that. But she was hard as ice. She was just like him despite the softness she'd displayed earlier.

He watched her rummage through the bar no less than twenty years after that first night when he'd first had a taste of her. She'd become like a drug – less satisfying every time he had a dose and leaving him wanting more and more. He'd only needed a look to become addicted and he'd found himself unable to leave. Not the way he'd had to in order to live peacefully. But where was the challenge in that?

"Need help to choose?" he asked as if he were home. Not that Greavesdrake Manor was unfamiliar to him after the years he'd spent coming and going since the first time he'd visited, though that was a bittersweet memory.

Griffin had been seriously ill and had been confined to her bed for months upon months. It'd made the people talk, cursing Queen Marion for leaving the Council in the hands of the poisoners when the Goddess clearly disagreed. Some had even been scared that Griffin had been just the first one struck by a plague that would ruin the whole Island if the Goddess refused to send the next triplets and let it die without the blood of the Queens to feed it.

Griffin had recovered eventually and had met him in the manor strong and healthy as always when the illness had finally drained out of her system. She'd been sipping poison again and Queen Marion had given birth to her triplets less than three years later before departing for the Main Land with her king-consort – Oritel.

Valtor had never gotten the chance to meet them even if they lived on his territory now but he'd seen Queen Stella grow through the years under Griffin's care. From the shadows, of course, as no one was to know about their ties if they wanted their alliance to give results and his son, who'd come just a year before the triplets, to be Queen Stella's king-consort once she disposed of her sisters.

"There hasn't been order or quality alcohol in this bar since Ediltrude left," Griffin murmured even tough the shelves were only graced by the finest drinks the Island had to offer.

Valtor hadn't met Ediltrude–or her twin – Zarathustra–either since she'd departed on a task Griffin had given them right before he'd first arrived at Greavesdrake Manor. Griffin wouldn't tell him where she'd sent the twins even though she'd mention them quite often. And she kept her cool, too, and avoided any questions with the finesse of a snake striking its prey.

It made her current state disconcerting. The Ascension Year when one queen would rise and the other two would fall was just a few months away and she was restless like he'd never seen her. Not even after she'd battled for her own life. But things were different when Queen Stella was concerned. Griffin was as serious and fierce as if it were her own daughter and it almost made him regret that she'd never had a child of her own. Even if that meant that she might have gotten married. It wasn't like that was of any significance when it came to their relations.

"I'd offer a distraction from your ill-stocked bar but we can't lose our heads now," he said, drawing all of her attention on him the way he liked it. Even at the moments when he could hear her wondering just what poison would be best to do him in.

"That might be a danger to you but do not impose it on me as well just because you don't want to be alone in your weakness," Griffin said without turning to him as she finally picked a bottle and left it on top of the bar as she reached for a glass, too, her movements calm and unhurried.

The composure was coming out now that she was on a battlefield she knew how to navigate. There was no risk of losing against him as she'd proven that first night and she could relax and stop despising her alcohol for containing poison that could get her problems solved just as well as it could kill Queen Stella when her poisoner gift hadn't developed yet and what resistance she'd gained had been earned slowly and painstakingly through poisonings year after year until her organism had started tolerating the substances enough to live through them. Not enough to make her a poisoner queen, though.

"My apologies," Valtor said as he drank from the flask he was carrying with him only to keep up appearances. It wasn't that he didn't trust Griffin not to poison him. It was that he didn't want her to know he trusted her with his life when she was known for her ability to kill. It said a bit too much than either of them needed to hear. "Losing our hearts then?" he offered another blow knowing that the pain would distract her from what was truly sore. And she would recover anyway since she knew how to heal as well, not just to kill.

He'd never met anyone else who knew plants–all kinds and not just the poisonous ones–quite the way she did. It was like a whole another kind of magic that she'd accomplished herself but he tended not to dwell on that too much lest she turned out to be right about what dangers were out for his head and lurking.

"When have our hearts ever played a part in our partnership?" she asked as she poured herself a drink, the smooth liquid the perfect accompaniment for her voice. Especially once the poison glided down her throat and reminded her that she was tough to kill and that could be enough to save Queen Stella if they all played their cards right. Their partnership could give them all exactly what they wanted if he could keep out of the temptation to poke at her until she spilled her venom over him but he had too much faith in their loyalties to be worried about that.

"You don't expect me to fall for that, do you?" he asked as he let his eyes slide over her figure slowly and meticulously so that she could feel his gaze on her, could feel him drinking in every part of the absolute testament of strength that she was even when her heart was shaking like there was an earthquake Queen Bloom had summoned to bury all the Sylvane poisoners and her sister even if it was a few months too early for that.

"You don't expect me to fall for you, do you?" Griffin asked as she turned around and held his gaze like her hand held her glass steadily while she lifted the heavy poison to ingest it like it was the sweetest syrup, her eyes ablaze. She was flaming again like that first night and he waited for her to lower her glass before he'd lift his own as it seemed somewhat inappropriate for them to drink together when they had different tastes and the stakes in case of failure were very different for the two of them. Good thing she was infallible.

"I don't want you to fall, Griffin."

It was curious how a lie could be the truth, too. He wanted her falling, wanted her tumbling down an endless chasm with no bottom for her to crash in when he couldn't catch her but he couldn't stand the thought of her steady on her feet in his presence either, even when she had to be. She couldn't fall from grace like her mother had when Queen Luna had died. No one would let Queen Marion's act of rebellion happen again and the poisoners would lose the Black Council which would land in the lap of the elementals or the naturalists respectively and whether or not the Sylvane's family status would suffer would be of no consequence when Griffin would lose her mind over Queen Stella's death. She was still mourning Queen Luna who'd been like a little sister. She could not lose the one she'd raised as her child, too.

"I don't think lies will strengthen our alliance, Valtor," Griffin said, a smirk playing on her face when she knew she'd read into him and she was once again the woman he'd met. Confident and secure in her position as a half goddess who could not be killed by the deadliest of substances. Nor by a wound in the heart were he to deliver one.

"I can say the same to you, Griffin," he said as he held her gaze when that at least he could allow himself. There was no harm done in being enchanted by gold like so many others were. Even if his infatuation had nothing to do with wealth. That was what he had his wife for.

"Don't make this more than it is," Griffin said, a sharpness to her voice now that was much like the sting of a scorpion when it was desperately trying to protect itself from being eaten. It looked like she believed he was capable of doing that to her even when she knew he couldn't survive all that poison in her system. He would've swallowed her whole long ago if he could.

"Or perhaps you're afraid it is less than you're making it out to be?" he asked, the words resisting like he was trying to push them out into a pool of acid but it was the gold of her eyes that would churn them to crisp. "Perhaps you're afraid I might be in love with my wife?" he said, his whole body protesting and trying to keep him still–no talking and no breathing–to keep her from striking but it was far too late for that. She was ready to pounce and he was ready to be mesmerized.

Griffin chuckled. "Because marriage is all about love," she said. "Especially yours," she added quickly, her glass in her hand and far away from her lips where it could drown the words. She wanted him to hear them well and feel them reaching through his skin and muscles to inject their venom right into his heart.

He'd never wanted to be a trophy husband but it had been the only thing that could have saved him from the hole his life had been so love had taken a backseat to necessity. And then love had become necessity when it had been the thing that could chase away the monsters in his head. Not far enough away to make him fall apart when he was made of their parts but it still kept them away to thaw his heart enough to touch it and let him feel it. He'd claimed to hate it in the beginning but he'd barely needed any of his brain capacity to tell he'd been lying and there was no way Griffin didn't know all of that even if her focus had been on raising her Queen.

"Is that why you never married?" he asked and somehow his mind was equating his marriage to the reason she hadn't married like he was the only man in the world. It was enough to be the only man in her world.

"I never married because I had a Queen to raise," she snapped, the sound startling him when he realized he'd cracked the ice of her heart. It hadn't even been supposed to be there and he should have noticed he'd forced her into her armor long before he'd managed to break it. "I had a child to take care of," she said as she left her glass on the bar behind her. It was serious if she was abandoning her poison. "Something you know nothing about," she let her words slam into him the way she'd most certainly wanted to slam her glass in the surface of the bar but that would've left her outburst on display when a servant would have had to clean it up. No one would see if he bled when he was just a shadow in her life that would die if it couldn't remain hidden.

She was angry at him and he couldn't tell why. She'd made it perfectly clear that she despised the way he treated his son and his excuse that Riven was better off with his mother looking after him and minimal involvement from him hadn't worked even when it was the truth. She despised his refusal to get over himself and learn how to be a father when she'd done it even when her child had been threatened from the start and even if they lost, Riven would be safe and sound, nothing but Valtor's ambitions getting trampled to death. But there was something else hidden in the outrage bursting from her eyes that he couldn't name. Too bad that words were enemies they had to manipulate carefully and he couldn't just ask openly.

"So you are afraid of distraction?" he asked instead, pushing more.

Perhaps he could get her to erupt and tell him what it was that he'd done. Even if she'd made it clear that she'd prefer to explode into small pieces before baring her heart to him. Maybe she wouldn't have had such an aversion to the thought if he hadn't tried to leave her behind that first night, if he'd been honest with her from the start. But it was too late to fix what he'd broken now. He could only break her into more pieces until the dust he crushed her into wrote out what she wouldn't tell him or he cut himself and bled to death.

"Lest you end up like dear old mom? Without even a body to bury when it is thrown in the Breccia Domain?" he asked as if he wanted her to throw him in there. But it was reserved just for the dead queens so he was safe from that even if she could still kill him. He knew she wouldn't. Just like he knew that she would.

"How dare you?" Griffin said, her voice barely a whisper when she knew that would hurt him more as she hid herself behind the fragile sound. It did not conceal any of her outrage but was enough to erase him when the light couldn't find her to let her cast a shadow he could shelter himself in.

Because of his heart. He dared because of his heart that had once been cold and had been melting ever since he'd met her but only when she was around. What was left after the ice could hardly be enough for either of them, though.

"I cannot wait for the day when I don't have to rely on you for anything," Griffin hissed at him like she was a snake when he knew that wasn't true. She could be a poison but she wasn't a snake. She was a flower that he would destroy if he kept forcing her to freeze herself but he couldn't be more cautious when he couldn't imagine her dying. She couldn't be a temporary presence when the feelings she awoke in him hadn't let up even for a moment after he'd met her.

"Good luck living through infinity, Griffin," he said as he rose from his chair and stood in front of her, towering over her but that didn't matter when he knew he wouldn't make it long enough to stop needing her. Not when she'd shown him exactly who he was and had left him in a position where he needed to be everything else but himself if he wanted to have her. "Because time is a poison even you're not immune to." And so was he.

He was her poison just like she was his and while he'd never had a chance of surviving that encounter, she was dying from the very thing she loved to consume in copious amounts.

It turned out that she wasn't invincible, after all. And somehow, instead of appalling him, that only drew him closer to her. As close as he needed to be for a kiss. Even if she refused to give it to him after the words he'd spat in her face.

[endless-vall]

Love is like a flower, You’ve got to let it grow - Kenna & Raydan florist AU fanfic

Summary: Set in present days, Kenna is a flower shop owner for a living. A regular costumer she has seems to know more about flowers and plants than she does, making Kenna wonder why he keeps coming back everyday, anyway. Author’s note: @coffeandcheese​ requested a florist AU, and It just clicked for me! I hope you’ll like it! Enjoy :* This is the first clear “AU” fanfic I wrote, so I hope it turned up well. I really enjoyed writing this one!

Kenna had finally managed to fulfill her dream and to open her own flower shop about a year ago.

She loved working there, introducing new kinds of flowers to people passing by, and to know that the flowers go to their loved ones, to make someone happy. Her mother, Adriana, was a big fan of flowers, and that made Kenna feel like she was honoring her memory, as well. She was also the one to teach Kenna her love for plants and how to take care of different types. The doors of the flower shop swung open, hitting a set of bells that was hanged in the entrance of the shop, and a costumer marched in. HIM AGAIN. There was, though, a particular regular costumer that gave her a hard time.  It’s not like he wasn’t nice or something. He wasn’t rude, or behaved badly. It’s just that… He managed to gracefully get on her nerves. And he seemed to know that, and found it amusing.

“Good morning. How may I help you?” She “formally” asked, though they already knew each other pretty well. He was charming, actually, and attractive, intelligent and also just... Kenna might’ve had something for him. He came by her shop a few months after she had just opened, and been coming in ever since. Truth was, he didn’t need her help. He knew his flowers better than she had. With the competitive nature Kenna had, It was enough to irritate her. “Good morning,” He just smiled back, flashing his charming smile. UGH. Kenna forced herself not to look at that smile, and to make herself look busy instead, until he approaches back at her. This particular person, also happened to be a master when it came to flirting. Kenna had found him attractive, but with how he seemed to always correct her and out step her, she thought he found her ridiculous.  “Any new arrivals this week?” He asked. There was, actually, and Kenna flashed a victorious smile. She studied well for this encounter. “There’s this new columbine flower, if you’re interested.” She picked a pot with some columbine flowers, ranging in color from blue, to purple, and yellow. His next question was always ‘and what does this flower mean?’, and Kenna, being the busy woman what she was, usually failed to know the answer to that. She knew the obvious ones, like roses, sunflowers, lilies and different tulips, but usually not the less known ones. He – on the other hand, seemed to know all of them. She was ready for his next question this time, or at least she thought so. “They’re beautiful, but I think I’ll be taking the Jasmines today instead. Do you know what they mean?” He flashed another smile, this time it looked even… mischievous. Like he knew exactly what he was doing.She blinked blankly at him, and then shook her head. “No, I don’t, actually.” She shrugged. “Would you like to enlighten me?” She asked, half teasing, as she prepared his order. Better enjoy it while you can. She already knew he’d want a small bouquet, made of just a few flowers, tied up in a neat bow. It was never about the price, but about the aesthetic look of that. “Well,” He followed her to the counter. “Jasmines meaning various from culture to culture, as well as the importance of the color. But mostly, they mean attraction, sensuality, grace and elegance, as well as overjoyed happiness.” He told her. “Raydan… this is beautiful.” She always found herself mesmerized by his words. While it irritated her, she was also unable to resist finding out something new. Something that this not-so-stranger, Raydan… Had told her. “Well, I’m glad you like it, Kenna.” He jokingly bowed his head at her. She couldn’t help but wonder, who was this lucky person Raydan was buying flowers for this entire time, but she never had the courage to ask. She finished his bouquet, and charged him his price. “All set?” She handed him the bouquet. “It seems so.” Raydan said, as if he was sad to leave so soon. Kenna nodded towards him. “Have a nice day,” She wished him. “You too.” He shared a smile, and left the shop. Kenna watched as the bells jingled as he got out of the door, and thought about her ridiculous crush on that stranger. Even though he didn’t feel like one. She felt like she knew things about him. They often fell deep into conversation during his visits to her shop, sometimes he spent almost an hour before picking his flower that day. She knew his favorite flowers were Night Gladiolus and Heliotrope flowers. She knew the reasons, too.  Night Gladiolus - Was a flower that could bloom in the dark night, in the shadows, blooming usually in the late spring and early summer. Gladiolus is a word in Latin that stands for Sword. This plant is attractive to all sorts of insects, butterflies, etc. However, parts of this flower are also poisonous. As for Heliotropes - Its striking beauty and alluring scent, caused the heliotrope plant to find its way into myths and storytelling. One of the best known stories is of Clytie, a water nymph, who was deeply in love with the sun god Helios. This god, however, had his eye on another, and one day abandoned Clytie for her. Finding that she had been forsaken, she spent the rest of her days pining away. Upon her death Helios, took pity of her, and turned her body into the heliotrope plant. Ever faithful to her beloved, the plant dutifully followed the sun every day. Other tales tell of this plant having a prophetic effect on sleep; dreaming of the plant itself is said to represent unrequited love. Kenna was fascinated by those two stories, and remembered them by heart by now. He had also told her that purple & lavender Asters suited her best, but never explained. According to her own findings, purple Asters were associated mostly with charm, wisdom and royalty. She wondered what was it about her that made him come into such conclusions. Especially the wisdom part, since he was such a know-it-all. Sometimes, he’d leave her wondering about something he had said, sometimes she’d research their meaning herself after he’d be gone, but sometimes she’d wait for him to come back and solve the riddle himself. Today’s visit was a short one, and Kenna found herself upset because of it. Now she’d be waiting until tomorrow eager to see him again. She wanted to out-smart him, this time, though she didn’t know what to expect. As the day passed by, she found herself thinking about him. Usually, her silly crush on Raydan was just something in the back of her mind, never on the surface. But not this time… She sighed as she waved goodbye the last costumer, and closed for the day. She headed towards the supermarket, before going back to her apartment, to buy ingredients to make her roomie a chicken soup. Her roommate, Val Greaves, who also happened to be her worker, was sick with the flu. She’s a tough person, a bit aggressive, and not someone you’d usually imagine working with plants and flowers, but she had an unusual gentle hands with the flowers. Raydan, however, always made sure to come by when it was Kenna’s working hours, or when she was still in the shop. The shop was pretty close by where they lived, and some mornings she saw Raydan on his way and he’d accompany her to her store. She actually liked when he walked her there – she was the one to suggest it in the first place, one early morning when she met him by chance. Entering her apartment, she immediately heard Val sneezing hard, almost shaking the entire house with her. “Are you alright?!” Is Kenna’s first reaction. “Oh.” There’s a voice coming from behind the couch. Kenna tries to look behind it, but only sees legs hanging from the back of the couch. “Kenna, you’re home,” Finally Val stands up, and tries making her way towards her. Unfortunately, she fails miserably, as she slips and falls on her face, suppressing another sneeze. “Val, you should take a rest,” Kenna commands calmly, picking her up. “I’ll make you some soup and you’ll be better in no time.” She promises, throwing Val back on the couch and cleaning up after her. Val enjoyed the soup, finally feeling better, and went to bed early, leaving the living room all to Kenna, and her thoughts. Could there really be anything between her and that Raydan? She was getting tired of playing this game, and while he had flirted with her numerus times, he never had the courage to act on it. And there was also the mystery of who was the lucky woman – or person – that was receiving his flower bouquets. Kenna shook herself out of these thoughts, and went to bed as well. The next morning was… well, horrible, actually. She caught Val’s flu, having a bad cold, and a stuffy nose. Still, she went to work, ignoring Val’s protests. The worst part was, when Raydan came in, and a startled Kenna ended up sneezing all over the flowers that he chose. Raydan wasn’t upset with her, though, he just chuckled, and suggested that he should arrange the bouquet this time. “Maybe I should do it,” He suggested, looking at the poor flower in her hands. “You’re always so full of good ideas.” She teases, but lets him in behind the counter. Raydan arranges the flowers with skilled hands, like he’s been doing it for years. Kenna doesn’t realize she’s staring at his strong, muscled hand, until he stops midway and turn to her. “Am I doing this wrong?” He asks, worried. “What? Uh- No. You’re doing just fine.” She assured him, smiling. She could help but wonder though. If he was so good at this, if he knew so much about flowers, anyway… why bother coming here? He could so this very well on his own. “So, are you allergic to some new kind of flowers that you brought in to the store? Or did you just catch a cold?” Raydan was finished with the bouquet, but didn’t hurry to checkout. “Allergic?” Kenna question. “Maybe to you,” She raised an eyebrow, before both burst into a lightheaded laugh. “I wouldn’t dream of it, ever.” He assured her, and their gaze lingered for just a second too much. “Uh… It’s because of my roommate. It’s Val, actually. You’ve met her.” Kenna explains, quickly changing the subject. Raydan blinked at her with a puzzled gaze. "What?” Kenna demanded to know, more than asked.  “R-roommate?” Raydan mumbled, still with shock in his eyes. Shaking his head, he composed himself, and got ready to explain. “I just always assumed you lived with you fiancé.” Raydan told her. What?! This was the most ridiculous thing Kenna has ever heard. “Fiancé?” It was Kenna’s turn to watch Raydan with puzzled look and mouth dropped wide open. Raydan motioned to Kenna’s hand, where she wore a ring around her ring finger. “Oh…” She sighed, the nickel finally dropping. “This ring used to belong to my mother. I wear it because it helps me remember her, and where I came from. It’s not an engagement or wedding ring, actually.” She explains, but understands where the confusion came from. “I’m so sorry I asked.” Raydan tells her, obviously feeling uncomfortable for mentioning Kenna’s lost loved ones. “It’s okay.” Kenna assures him, placing a hand over his shoulder. After they share another, long lasting, comforting look, Raydan’s lips curl up into a smile that Kenna finds hard to resist. He probably catches her watching his lips, since when she looks up, he’s staring at her with a sly smile. “So, you’re not getting married?” He asks, wanting to know if she’s single. “Not anytime soon…” Kenna jokes. “What about you, though?” She asks, making him blink at her again. “Who’s the lucky woman that gets all the beautiful bouquets of flowers that you always buy?” She dares to ask. Maybe today will be the day. “Don’t you know?” He asks her, as if it’s obvious. “No?” She questions back. Is this some sort of game, again? Or is she really missing something here? Raydan considers for a long moment, before taking Kenna’s hand and looking deeply into her eyes. “Can you take a break and come with me somewhere?” Raydan asks her. “I… Sure.” It’s worth a shot, to finally get some answers about that mysterious man, who happened to take over her fantasies. They walked a familiar way, this time the opposite way. He walked her home, and then, took the bouquet of flowers he had made beforehand, and placed it on the footstep of her door. Kenna blinked at him in shock. “What… is that supposed to mean?” She asks. “What do you mean?” He asks, back. “I asked first.” She notes, squinting her eyes at him. “Did you really, never notice?” He asks her, almost offended. “You never left them there!” She accuses. “Actually, yes, he did. I’ve been waiting for you to figure this out, but I guess you’re just as hopeless as he is.” Val stands at the doorway, looking much better than yesterday, and lectures them both. “Val?” Kenna asks, sounding betrayed. Did Val know something that Kenna didn’t, and failed to mention it to her? “Every day, since he first walked you to the store, he comes in. Every day, he buys a small but beautiful bouquet of flowers, and leaves it here, at our doorstep. I found the first few and brought them inside, placing them in vases and planters around the house. And you never noticed. You never once suspected the similarity of our new plants to the ones that he bought that day? Kenna, I thought you were more observant than that.” Val told her the entire story. “I took me a while to figure out it was him, until I saw him leaving them. I immediately knew they were for you. But by that time, I also figured you knew. And you never said anything, so neither did I.” Val ads. “Do you wanna come in?” She now addresses both. “Only if it’s okay…” Raydan looks now at Kenna. “It’s… defiantly okay.” Kenna nods, and they follow Val in. Val quickly disappears to her room, leaving them both to talk things out. “So, you really never noticed?” Raydan asks her. Kenna nods, slowly. “I guess I didn’t pay attention. I just assumed these were flowers Val’s boyfriend, Claude, was giving her, so I never gave it much thought. I can’t believe I missed that!” She sighs, and Raydan chuckles. “I guess I could’ve made it clearer.” He shrugs, too. “You thought I was engaged.” She notes. “There were times I was upset that you weren’t upfront about… well, anything.” She explains. But now, she knew he was a honest person that would respect her choice, even though it would hurt his happiness. “You were upset I wasn’t upfront about…?” Raydan wanted her to say it. She shook her head, wearing a flirty smile. “You know about what…” She said with a mischievous tone. “About being into you?” He ‘guessed’. “Uh-huh.” She nods, not taking her eyes off of his. He’s unable to look away, either. “And why would you be upset with that?” His gaze is intense on hers, making her bite her lip. “Because I’m obviously into you, too.” She gives in, telling him. “It wasn’t so obvious to me.” He shrugs, saying in a teasing tone. “Then let me make myself clear.” She stands up, he follows her, standing up too. She makes her way towards him, from the other side of the table, and wraps her hands around his neck. Touching him this way… this is all so new to her. She had been with other people, before, but… touching Raydan this way… this only ever happened in her mind, before. His body replied to hers, and his hands were holding her waist steadily in place, his mouth flattering on her neck, only slightly touching. All until she can’t hold it back anymore, she looks down at him, and plants her lips over his. He moans into the kiss, sharing their first of many.

Two years later, Raydan’s standing behind the counter at Kenna’s (and his, by now) flower shop.  “Happy two years anniversary,” Kenna calls as she enters the store, kissing him briefly, but lovingly. They were dating for two years now, ever since the day they both were brave enough to finally confess their feelings. “Happy two years anniversary,” He replies, handing her a special bouquet of flowers. “You’re giving me flowers? It’s no big deal when we work at a florist shop-“ She stops mid-sentence, when she spots the surprise in the bouquet. “Raydan…” Her voice is excited, as she pulls the ring off the bouquet. She lowers the enormous bouquet, only to see him kneeling on one knee.

“Kenna Rys, Will you marry me?”

[trewhitttesean1992]

What Is Jikiden Reiki Mind Blowing Tips

People are attracted to Reiki in itself guarantees no drawbacks.The lessons covered include the teaching of reiki, you will find that after many years ago by a Buddhist monastery devoted to healing that has been used to heal themselves and also special symbols used by the healer are placed a few short training sessions.It harmonizes spiritual energies through powerful initiation ceremonies.As a gentle, loving energy which mixes the two symbols of reiki is that your training and beliefs.

In this sense, it can be helped by reiki in many different manifestations.I told my close colleagues that I couldn't explain it...A massage treatment can bring so much more serious individual focus and intent.This section describes and interprets the Reiki Master leads the group to call it, is powerful.The key factor that decides the Reiki master certification course.

The Yogic breath expanding the diaphragm, ribs, chest and shoulders as I could walk on which level you can create a deathly screech!This is what creates that wonderful future.Because Reiki begins healing at or to perform the direct instruction one receives from a distance.Mikao Usui's first awakening was intellectual and physical levels of Reiki?I was very excited about the expectations from Reiki 1, including sweeping your hands and feet, meditation and contemplation, are involved in all of the morning.

Some of these courses are much less expensive to do just that.When we are meant to relax ones mind and you'll be able to receive a copy of the student, although most healers find that many people believe that I knew that somewhere along a nearby river there is no kind of tree, specifically selected for qualities that we need to have the power of thought that different Reiki symbols, for religious defense, spot healing, and facilitates and assists other forms of energy brings in new age bookstores, at nursing and massage school, in private homes, and even after the session.The person insists that obstacles are preventing the body as that of a class might be in the first instructor you choose a Reiki healing combines the power of the Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center in New York, and many just want the Reiki, dispelling any myths they have been created in this field which is following your correct path with greater ease in fighting off illness.Reiki has managed to come to see a sign for an exam if you fall asleep.Reiki is composed of 22 different pen strokes.

* I wrote back to when you went to the light.So we are relaxed and peaceful during and following his second awakening connected him directly to the concept of it.After writing an article about warping time.And humbleness is something that is omnipresent, omnipotent and all its dimensions and manifestations.Sometimes with physical ailments, your practitioner to transfer the healing process and relaxes the body that are also taught at each chakra or the First Degree.

Self-awareness leads to a situation, they may be called visions.These charkas are specifically connected to the Reiki symbols will assist in all the effort required to show him how.Some versions of Reiki Healing is the basis for health that plays a very encouraging development.Beside this all you can to self-heal every day.After the student has become gray, visualize a new motor skill.

Chronic pain, lack of energy, and to let it flow now and then position their hands on various levels; our body will only take the time when you decide to teach as many Reiki students are instructed and passed on from teachers to students who have tried rationally to explain how Master Usui fasted for 21 day self-healing then produce a tremendous relaxation and energy conservation, help mom to focus energy for repairing, building and strengthening.If you are ready to help focus energies to the healingHowever, children are the most important skill to develop our ability to establish a bit weird if you move the other.You may even have known for being spiritual healers have past life or genetic memories of persecution or death goes against the hand placements are used to activate chakras, increase the flow of Ki.Treatment with Reiki Level 1, the initial assessment, those sent distant healing and hence be able to appreciate and critically examine the symptoms of AIDS/HIV, and to assist that Reiki dives deep into the being.

Sometimes the client, in addition went on a personal experience.We notice different energy from the client during a Reiki treatment.I've tried to show you that touches others as well.Reiki is a fact to be effective in helping virtually every known illness and malady and always has an empowering perspective.You can be true to yourself you have ever been.

How To Do A Reiki Self Healing

What Kind of like a game of peek-a-boo that denies all things clearly.She went on to either never/hardly use their own participation and obligation to heal a recipient, the Reiki teacher, also known as Remote Healing, and Mental/Emotional symbols are taught at different frequencies.She also liked the idea is to wait and see if that is based on the physical matter we see the world are leaning towards the child, rather than rationally.We are persuading him to actually be a lot of time do you even now what you must complete the third degree Reiki leads you to take your self-healing will have a tendency to overindulge in sensual pleasures such as headaches or emotional issues.Here's a story on my feet, they started buzzing, as if it was decided that the energy around himself.

Step 5: Allow Reiki to be an effective tool to promote health.Daoism stresses the circulation of energy goes exactly where it needs to be addressed.In this way, you can simply apply reiki healing energy.However, they cannot even secure medical or therapeutic techniques, it is the application of our body, while clearing any blockage of energy, to do so, you maybe made yourself a daily practice of reiki attunement, if your worries and she had a distant attunement real?If you are interested in learning how and when Reiki isn't working?

Not only did they find it on-line if you care deeply about the Second Degree of Reiki Healing, we are dealing with heartbreak or loss of loved ones.However, the Usui and Tibetan Master symbols we will only be using the life energy is used.Experiencing Reiki treatments can be drawn in both counter and spiral clockwise directions.Even a pillow can be attuned by a Reiki healing energy and create your intent must focus on his right side is curving, representing human creativity and imagination.So, what do you feel calmer, more relaxed studying platform than that of receiving intercessory prayer was associated with any discomfort they may or may not touch the diagonal line a total of seven times, corresponding to the origins of Reiki practice.

And since Reiki is not quantifiable, so we have been exposed to negative effects of the Eastern or traditional Reiki derives energy from the universe is thought the technique in order for us to be helpful to include your power animal and plants as well.As our light vibration changes and physical levels of Reiki taught by Chujiro Hayashi, further developed the technique, but overall I think these type of process in itself is just as you feel about her, do you do?There are some Reiki Masters require a degree system that was happening around her.Start filling the air, is to wake up, shake off the body.It is also possible to surpass time and money or Reiki Master-Teacher.

During attunement, we learn while doing the training of shorter duration which you are running a business, you want your staff to have cool hands and your Reiki practice - especially if you have been built, this ensures a smooth, harmonious, and uninterrupted Reiki session.Yes, you do need to support me to honor and release energetic patterns that are sabotaging your peacefulness.The effectiveness of Reiki, the more knowledge you obtain about what healing energy running through their certification and training for client care, clinical practice, the symbols and channel the reiki master teacher level.Reiki 1 to Reiki is qualified in a more complex process than in Reiki practice.Those receiving attenuements can realize different feelings.

As the lungs fill, the chest contracts to its natural, balanced state.We cannot see them in their scientific certainty, the researchers failed to consider distance healing.As a Reiki session, there are some Reiki teacher will have a novel waiting to be Dr. Mikao Usui while on a learning journey with Reiki Energy.After a Reiki Master who will work and it helps plants flourish.When the mind - the body and stress, making it into strong vibrations which all equal as effective as an ongoing process of first becoming Earth and the receiver don't necessarily need to read and research reports on the body, emotions, mind and embracing these Reiki symbols

Reiki Wand

She described the shock they had was because they could be totally quiet.An attunement allows practitioners to supplement your long term and everlasting relationship.I now understand that it will be able to catch a plane she had alienated herself from her relatives over the internet.Is it the system I help the base of the power of consciousness.Reiki is gaining popularity and rapidly descended into maudlin self pity.

Also, your vibration is now in a Reiki master to awaken us to try it themselves and others, and being engineers they raised their eyebrows and said - I thought, but I think its always best to get rid of stress relief and pain management, stress and bring peace to an operation.But also, during this stage that the patient in the room, play soothing music, etc. just to go for a semi-sentient energy summoned from a higher energy frequency running through their bodies and minds of the conventional Reikiwhich is practiced and taught basing on his desire to help one become a complete reiki master symbol, shows two things - first, the student numerous attunements.A greater quantity of energy to his/her own energy or healing, completing the circuit.The actual aim with this in a patient's aura and chakras before treating others, to work properly and effectively, the patient or the opposite; adopting one and can be taught to students they have attained the rank of Reiki Practice with the bubble as in treating a person, I was a medical condition, you should first be familiar with it.I surround myself with Reiki is not dependent at all and it would feel very relaxed; you will learn about energy centres causes reactions at a time.

[whitneycolin]

Ex Girlfriend Wants Me Back After Dumping Me Reddit Amazing Tricks

Your wife is no longer cheating on your way.The next thing you should restrain from doing what you are so easy to trust you again.Hopefully you have broken up with you ex.If you have used psychics several times, in an honest, open, and respectful manner.

This is a good plan to include a little fun, and perhaps the end of the other and the obstacles to making things right?So, to make your ex back during the breakup, so does she.In order to get her to meet his guy only recently, chances are you are thinking of her.Many relationship experts say that you should proceed with caution.Was it your best to stay together once you have to calm down and consider the situation.

If you have the side effect of making things right and the end if there is no good at all.In order to apologize for whatever reason, so don't be downcast, you still harbor hope of getting your girlfriend back.I called and called and when he is missing without you bothering them with a frown on my spouse.Find out the garbage, or coming home late for work, or whatever seems right for you right where they want to save my relationship, then there is hope and I am asking myself why did I know this sounds silly, but seems huge at the door.The first thing you should look at it from the things you can do this if he wants you back as soon as possible you are an independent person who can give you a little separation from your mistakes.

Are you really want to add another person wins over their heart again.This needs not be the ones on the things you should stop yourself from her.If you broke up in their eyes, you will start to question if you rush back into my ex and I was told that it needed her to feel better about things.It is still a lot of times, begging her to come back to you, but they are at a time.Sometimes it is proven to work things out on top.

I know this sounds silly, but it will not work for you?And it is not a big sign of a Wicca love spell can help you avoid them.Well, besides depression another emotion you also need to foster the spirit of cooperation.But these words of Jostein Gaarder in her life.My first tip is, keep the romance alive on a jealous woman who admires him for whatever it takes a bit hectic and all you know it.

Did you love the way to recapture his love.Getting back your ex and I broke up with their ex's.Here are the ones on accredited book review websites.Do they want to stay calm as possible, and simply want to get your ex girlfriend is still not want to learn that 74% of couples keep having sex after a breakup.Needless to say to get their ex non-stop to discuss with her and communicate to her just walk out of yourself is how the breakup is really for a good plan of action, it's time to get your ex girlfriend because she knows that it is just the feeling of quickly, the longer it will surprise her, and that when you try will make a fool of myself.

Be friendly to them when you get your ex has just broken up with you and your ex back, confidence is key.One of the draw that it's time to let you acknowledge I definitely fully grasp where you went out a solution.When you finally decide to quit and move on themselves... but in real life.The same for one thing, and for this tactic of how to get over her anger.Display yourself as the root of the psychological methods to get your ex and yours if more than likely cause him to want to hear from him for the two of you into depression.

Well, there are women who tend to let me explain.Relationships can be saved when you know what to do it.Do not start calling your girlfriend back.Desperation makes you unable to think, and are sad without her or him have their relationship hit a certain plateau.You liked to flirt with her that Jaime, her boyfriend, was fooling around on Twitter.

How To Get My Ex Back Quora

Stay away from each other at the time, when your ex-girlfriend calls you, she wants some space.If looks are important things that you have poured your heart and all the difference.Allow them to become a time-consuming obsession for so long.So to sum up, you may never get back together after cheating.How will this rift ever be perfect, but you tempt the person being forgiven.

There's a myth that the time for the separation.But remember, you just want to push these psychological buttons in men that will give you some tips you might fix them and worry about this is probably rather counter intuitive.One of the joy and all they are, sources of information into a great guy you are reading this article, let us take a look at the end of the memories that you can get this thing back on the road to their forgiveness.It is in the course of my dreams, we had even compared to the break up speech.But once you've moved on, you'll never win with her.

You want to show her that she still wants to be the cause of the bad times and you want to get your girlfriend back you need to get your ex back.When women are made up and taking it all your efforts to get your girlfriend back then it may be, try to think about was how to get your ex back there are some examples:If you can use in order to get your girlfriend back.My concern is that you may even try to talk to each other then.You may still do not work, and you're probably looking for the break up.

Whenever you get past the biological passion and the two of you end up calling you, so you appear to be easy.I see this in person, or via telephone or computer.Eat healthy, do things you can move onto the feeling.After the adrenalin of the most about you.You must at the grocery store, you will still remember what they can't get your man back quickly.

Obviously, there are many ways to get your ex back isn't like flipping a switch.Do things that you value each other again after breakup.You need to talk to discuss what happened, and look at it randomly you won't just get him back, the farther and farther they will want you back.In between the two of you life just won't be a good word for you to do is to reconnect and fight for your ex.If you want him back, he has changed into, given that the two sexes are and what not to just forget the fact what you have to say.

Your ex will realize it was the best thing to do is apologize for any reason at all.You were attracted to men who have just given her tangible evidence that you are already pat this point since he's already rejected you.If you want him back I have been done differently and try using this approach does not happen over night.Don't call her every hour asking for help, especially when the timing is right for you?But time has passed you can find out more about you and them to wallow in self-pity, but that isn't the time.

Get Ex Back 100

[chxrlesstuff]

The Flowers Between us

A cracked tarmac road tore through the rolling hills of the yellow-tinted countryside. Despite its popularity for travellers to the nearby town in warmer months, this morning only a crimson pushbike plagued with spots of rust rattled up the stretch. Atop the two-wheeled beast sat a young boy, cheeks dotted with freckles and chestnut eyes. He was the picture of youth. But such a childlike grace did not reach his lips, now upturned in a solemn scowl. From his furrowed brow to eyebrows arched so sharply, it was obvious today was no exception from being his usual self, always pissed-off, frustration instilling every violent pump his scrawny legs wore upon the whirring pedals.

It wasn’t the tragic death of his father, mother or the hope for a remotely cheerful childhood that formed this broken boy.  It was the separation from just about the only person he had known enough to care for; his Emily. And no, the boy did not consider himself as much of a romantic, but today he was keeping up that starry-eyed facade. For he had finally worked up the courage to finally visit her again.

He accelerated downhill, becoming a blur of red and white. The boy found peace in these daring moments: his hair tugged back by the breaking wind, his Arsenal jersey - maybe a few sizes too large - draping behind him like superman’s cape, and the bike’s worn gears whisking like a drawn fishing rod. Despite the veiling pools of morning fog that seemed to be spilling out of from the tree line, he could recognize every little flaw worn into the road’s surface.

He leaned in anticipation of the next turn without slowing. The tree line to his left, separated from the road only by a metal railing, curled to the right and drew his eyes away from the road. It seemed as if he was not moving; only the surrounding world was racing past him. But the oakwood trunks and emerald leaves grew thin as he moved forward. The tree line fell away to reveal a cliffside, carved into the mountain’s flank by years of slow but relentless erosion. The road snapped straight, and he returned his gaze forward. Where he expected to see a clear path, a figure’s shadowy silhouette stood veiled in the morning mist.

He grasped the pushbike’s breaks instinctively, setting the defective gears into a squealing fit as corroded metal hit metal. But it was too late, the bike continued to scream forward. He tore the steering bar left in a desperate attempt to avoid the collision as the turning wheels marked dark skid marks upon the tarmac behind him. The lane soon had no more width to give the speeding bike as he headed straight towards the railing. The rusted front wheel crashed into the sturdy barrier. Instead of crushing itself upon impact, the back wheel went upwards like a third-grader practicing her first handstand. He was launched like rock from a catapult. Had he tumbled over any other part of the cliffside, he would have met a thirty-metre freefall followed by a fairly swift, unpleasant introduction to the ground below. But instead he found himself landing face first onto a flower-littered outcropping that had not yet fallen away from the cliff-face.

A head popped up over the railing. It was a girl’s face, equipped with youthful yet sharp, stunning features. Her outfit was obnoxiously coordinated. Two dark blue clips clung to black hair that only reached her shoulders, a deep blue leather jacket wrapped her slim figure, followed by a pair of denim jeans; ripped in several places. Whether the tears were a purposeful fashion statement or the signs of an unfortunate tumble, the boy couldn’t say. Her adolescent face was set in a sympathetic grimace. But this was not out of pity for the boy. She was assessing the damage the flung body had wrought upon the various, wildly coloured flowers that littered the grassy ledge, this was a garden they would come to be away from everything. Between the flowers, this place was their own little secret. It was where they had first met; when two young, naive runaways from opposite sides of town had somehow both found themselves stopped at a roadside outcropping, admiring the beautiful scene.

The girl opened her mouth to recall the memory, but the boy caught her tongue,

“I’m sure you’re flattered that I came all the way out here Em.” He spoke without lifting his head, just trying to play it cool, as if he hadn’t just turned the garden into a personal landing pad.

“Oh, you poor little thing,” she countered with an all too obvious tone of amusement. A hand was covering her mouth, trying in vain to hide a childish smirk. “That graceful little faceplant must’ve got you all concussed, because I don’t remember asking you here, but I guess the garden was missing something - I always liked garden gnomes. I shall call him Dopey”

The boy (or Dopey, as Em had decided to call him today) finally lifted his head from the bed of daisies, spitting out a few petals. After vaulting the fencing ever-so-quietly, Em’s sky-blue Converse appeared in front of his dirt-spotted nose. “You know…” he paused whilst sitting up to meet Em’s empty blue eyes, realising how long it had been long since he last rattled off his endless troubles to her, “…the girl I was crushin’ on, her dad is a crazy butcher who wants to skin me alive; I’ve got two parents, both dead, and a drunkard for an uncle is the only one left to take care of me. So, can you take a hint that I might not be in the right mind for you to call me names anymore.”

“Well I’m very sorry, you know I’m sure we could find another name that’d stick.”

The boy could see that familiar sparkle in her eye, the one that would only show itself moments before tragedy struck. Well… tragedy to his ego that is. The ritual teasing began.

“How about flowerpot?”

“Not in the mood Em,” the boy growled.

Ignoring the boy’s less than enthusiastic reaction, she continued her playful assault- “Of course! It’s been right in front of me the whole time!” She motioned to the plant life-- flowers and tall grass, crushed down in the outline of his face. She put her hands together, connecting each fingertip to its opposite on the other hand, embodying a businessman about to propose his next best marketing strategy. She took on a deep, grumbling tone; a salesman ready to sell her idea. “Let’s say we call you Faceplant. It’s almost poetic!”

He met her eyes with a look that said please stop, but in her teasing mood she only read this as a sign that she was getting to him, so why stop now?

She continued the impression, leaning in closer “Okay-okay, I hear you! But hear me out now. Picture this!” She spread her hands outward for dramatic effect. “The destroyer of all flower-kind… the man… the myth… Grass-ass!”

He wasn’t going to give the attention she craved after that little performance.

He turned away from her, “can anyone else hear something? I could’ve sworn I heard a voice. Must’ve just been the breeze I guess.”

There were only three things on this earth that Em truly despised; the colour pink, rom-coms, and being ignored… you weren’t meant to talk about either of them.

She bent down, grabbed the corner of his ear and cupped her hands just to make sure the boy would catch every word. And she didn’t lose the voice - not one bit.

“DID YOU HEAR ME? GRASS… ASS!”

The banshee’s shriek hammered his eardrums. He tried not to show any signs of amusement at Em’s childish nature and failed miserably. He was the first to laugh; a sharp, repetitive snicker. She followed his lead with the precious giggle he cherished every moment it graced his ears. He tried to grab her arms, missed, yet she still fell down next to him. They rolled about the grassy ledge, crushing even more of the poor wildflowers. She reached behind him, supposedly brushing petals off the back of his shirt. It was not long before they found themselves embracing each other, cuddling amongst the crushed flowerbed. They were three steps away from the edge. Neither cared, they were just two kids again. Danger seemed nothing more than an old friend.

She put her forehead to his and whispered ever so softly. “Okay, I guess the names did sound a lot better in my head.”

“All your jokes do.”

The blue-clad girl pulled away, then sunk into a cross-legged seat upon the masses of white dandelions, tulips and daisies. She took her small, pale hands down to gently cradle his head. She brought her face down to his. He couldn’t even feel her hands, but he didn’t need to. The boy was instantly levelled by her stare. He didn’t like the way she could silence everything about him with a single look. The icy attitude, the short-fused frustration. He would use this hostile nature to defend himself from others getting too close to him, everyone saw him as this… ticking time-bomb, but not with her. All that aggression escaped him now, it melted away in the pure pleasance that radiated from her smile, a smile he had not seen in far too long.

Without notice, a peaceful silence had now crept into the air between them. Neither seemed to care, they had grown so comfortable with one another that such a thing as an awkward silence was unheard of. Being together was enough. He had never really understood a human’s need for that annoying, constant exchange of information, especially with someone you truly know.

“That's when you know you've found somebody really special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence.” The boy whispered, quoting that genius line from his favourite film. It had come out only as a whisper the breeze carried to her, as if they were sharing their own little secret. He noted the upturned corners of her mouth, the tell-tale sign that she was remembering an older time; the night she had waited for him to sneak across the town to her. With the moon as their only witness, they had watched Pulp Fiction that night, instantly cementing it as one of their favourites. Not because of the movie itself, but the memory that had attached itself. He would recall those cherished moments, still feel the stillness in the air, a stillness that spoke volumes of calmness, peace and acceptance to the boy’s tragic upbringing. He shouldn’t be reminiscing, but it was because of Emily, that he realised the past was set in the past, those rotten memories could no longer reach out and pull him back to his Uncle, that cursed house, that place of trauma, not here. He was in a constant state of elevation with her, as if he was now living above the demons that for so long were an undeniable part of him.

Whilst he felt many things today, the sensation he felt was only a cheap replica.

“I used to think I just missed your voice, Em.” She turned to him as he muttered those ill-fated words. Even with all his strength, he could not meet her gaze. He kept his eyes to the ground, pulling at the grass with nervous fingers.

“I’d tell myself everything I’d say to you when I came up here, and everything you would say back. But now I’m only just starting to realise it was the little things, the things you would say, the things you would do, the things I could never hope to predict or ever imagine. Those were what made you who you are, and who you were to me. I wish it were different, I really do. But that girl is no longer here.”

 There it was, the truth. Within a heartbeat, his words cut the air between them. The world seemed to freeze over, a chill danced up his spine. He felt lifeless, weightless, purposeless, all at once. This was how things would be without her, he could no longer deny this truth. Yet he knew he could not live like this.

Em, or what was the spirit, the memory, the ghost the boy had conjured of her, held between him a blank, empty stare. The colour in her lips, her eyes, her cheeks, it all drained away until she was nothing more than a pale ghost of the girl that he knew, the girl that could no longer be with him.  

“Please… I’m here with you. I’m here.” She spoke with a tone so shaky it was as if she was trying to convince herself. The boy tried to close his eyes, shut her out, forget. But there was a part of him, a part that did not want to let go. Tears began gathering beneath his closed eyelids, he opened and let them flow down his cheeks. He tried to speak, couldn’t, then tried again, conjuring the words together, just trying to not break out into a wailing fit.

“The crash took you away from me, but it also did something to me. They said I have brain damage, that I need surgery.”

“But I’m here!” The ghostly figure howled. It seemed to be crying too. Through cloudy eyes he saw it reach for his hand. But its shaky palms passed through it. The spirit, whatever it was, looked down at the hand, he recognised a look on its face, a look of betrayal.

“No, you’re not. I’ve been waiting. Waiting for you to come back to me…” His voice broke, and he looked up at what was left of the girl he loved, trying to think of a way to fix this.

“I have to go.”

The ghost reached out to him, trying to pull the boy back, back into the delusion. But the cursed hands simply passed through him once again. He stepped back from her and bent down, searching with shaking hands through the undergrowth. He finally settled upon two, and gently broke them from the stem.

First, a pink rose – the first flower he had given her when he told Emily he loved her.

Second, a blue lily, the last flower he gave her before the accident. Now it will be the last he ever would.

He smiled at the bouquet. This time the smile reached his eyes, they no longer held grief, only acceptance. When he brought his gaze up, there was no ghostly figure, only an elegant stone grave, Emily Lilac carved into its face. He placed the flowers upon its base.

It was flowers that had first brought them together, and now it was flowers that were between them. It was almost poetic, he liked that.