#plus it's helping our merry little band survive

[gehayi]

Two goblin leaders down, one to go. Now if my Tav can just keep his party's fighter from killing the healer...

[shadow-assassin-blix]

Blix walked into her apartment after a long day of working with Gotham's Crime Lords. Or rather what was left of them since the Dent Act. Blix sighed as she took off her jacket and shoes. Something felt off though, as she stood near her front door. She vaguely heard someone breathing and moving about in her living room. Blix quietly pulls out the knife she kept hidden in her jacket, before flinging it out toward her intruder with deadly accuracy. She flicked on the lights quickly, and sighed heavily when she saw Barsad standing before her holding the knife between two fingers.

"You've improved greatly, little fox, I almost didn't catch this," He praised before throwing the knife onto the couch next to him.

"Why are you here Barsad?" She asked with a tired sigh.

"Need your help, m'dear. Don't know if ye heard but Bane and Talia have taken over the League, and we are trying to get justice over the attempted murder of Ra's," Barsad informed her as he took a seat at the island in her kitchen.

Blix blinked, "Attempted? Pretty sure he had a subway line shoved up his ass. Thats dead. Unless you are telling me he somehow survived that."

"Eloquent as always, Miss Lage, but yes. I did indeed survive," Ra's voice came as he slowly stepped out of the shadows of her hallway. As he stood in her living room other members came out of the shadows of the various rooms in her home.

"How fortunate for you. Now, why exactly are you invading my home?" She asked as she walked over to her fridge and pulled out a bottle of water.

"As Barsad stated, we need all the help we can get. You have made quite the network of allies in the criminal underworld here in Gotham, as well as maintaining a line in Gotham's wealthiest members. We need to use someone to fund our operations. Can you think of anyone who could be easily manipulated into our services?" Ra's asked as stood before her.

Blix thought for a moment before answering, "Daggett. Hates Wayne like its going out of style. Would literally do anything to try and buy out Wayne Enterprises. Likes to feel in control. Make it seem like parts of the scheme were his ideas. When his usefulness run out, no one will miss him. Not even his assistant."

Ra's smiled a bit and said, "Good to see that your efforts here have not been wasted. Now that is out of the way, go pack a bag. You are coming with us."

Blix rolled her eyes and mumbled as she walked towards her room, "I see you haven't changed much. Sure, no problem, I'll just go pack a bag. S'not like a I have life here or anything, or any plans or whatever. But sure. I'll go pack. Where? Don't know. But I'm sure I won't like it."

She walked into her bedroom, making her way to her closet to grab her bag with her gear, and a duffle bag to pack other clothes. Barsad wandered in behind her, and leaned against her door, quietly watching.

"Where exactly are we going?" She asked as grabbed a couple pair of jeans.

"South Africa," he replied.

"You're joking, right?" She asked angrilly, paused midway into grabbing some shirts.

"I know. Your favorite place, right? Listen. Its one of the few places where we can operate freely with no one asking questions. You know this. I know that our history there has not been.... great, but-"

She interrupted him, "'Has not been great?' You mean when your ex-fiance had me whipped for stealing something I didn't take? Or when your mother, YOUR OWN MOTHER, tried to curse me? Or how everytime we go there, I get shot? I am really tired of getting shot, Barsad. I have a damn good life here. Know why? Because here I'm not getting shot at constantly. Because here, I am not considered your plus one, the distraction, the damsel in the distress. I have worked my ass off for the respect I have here and I will not have you or Ra's or any of the rest of the merry band of psychos of the League ruin that. God. I have been here for 2 years and not once have you ever come to see me. You finally show up and you drop this bullshit on my lap. And I'm supposed to what? Be a good girl and follow along without a complaint?"

"In a word? Yes," He said shortly. "We left you to your own devices for good reason. You know how to blend in. You know how to manipulate and wheel & deal. No one bothered you because you know this city better than any one else in the League. As for me, I seem to recall YOU leaving MY room and never coming back. So, I don't think you are the one who should be upset."

"You know why I left, Barsad. I asked you to leave with me and you chose them over me. You chose some misguided glory over a person who actually gave a damn about you," Blix quietly lamented. "You were the one who left me no choice."

Blix sighed heavily and continued packing her things. "So exactly how long am I going to be trapped in Hell? I need to know because I do actually have work here ya know?" She questioned annoyed

"A couple of months, at the least," Barsad answered before asking, "Tell me something. Did Falcone really leave his criminal empire to you?"

"Unfortunately, between that and being an event organizer for the rich and fabulous, I have seen the full spectrum of arrogance and greed. Its... tiring," she admitted grabbing her bag of weaponry before declaring she was ready to go.

Barsad snorted at her and grabbed one of her bags before walking back out into the living room with her. Blix made some phone calls on their trip to the airport to get things set up for remote access and have her second in command to temporarily take over for the time being, while being on call for any problems. It took about 20 minutes to finish up and by that time they had reached the airport and were walking towards the private jet owned by Ra's.

As we stepped in we were greeted by the sight of a hulking figure looking over maps. "Hello Bambi, how are you doing?" Blix asked as she stepped up beside him.

"Hello little fox. I am well. I hear you've done quite yourself. Being named the Falcone heir must have been quite the honor?" Bane politely asked.

"If having the world's largest target on my back for week's on end after that little annoucement was made because men cannot handle taking orders from a woman, than yes. It was quite an honor. It was surprising to say the least. I figured he would have given it to one of his buddies but no. He gives it to me, the person who honestly has no clue how to run an empire," Blix replied bitterly. "So what are our plans for world domination?"

"Not the world. Not yet at least. Just Gotham for now," Ra's replied omniously.

[fanficimagery]

Imagine being a Savior. The world has gone to shit and while you understand the good kind of people are suspicious of other individuals- especially the individuals who've grown rather adept at surviving on their own- you're more than a little hurt that several communities have turned you away. So when Negan takes you in, your loyalty lies with those he calls his own.

Author's Note: Warning for dirty words. Negan's not exactly cookie cutter clean. Lol.

Negan X Reader

Gripping the assault rifle in hand, you walk one side of the perimeter to the Sanctuary and keep your eyes peeled for any unusual activity. You've only been with the Saviors for two weeks, but after an intense meeting with Negan and the other higher-ups you finally started to find your footing with them.

Slowly pacing back and forth, you wipe the sweat from your brow with the bandanna tied around your wrist. A whistle pierces the air and you, plus the other two Saviors you'd been on duty with, turn to attention and bend the knee while bowing your head.

Negan's chuckle resonates around the lot and riles up the walkers chained to the fence. "Rise," he drawls. You easily stand tall once again, nodding your head respectively in greeting. "What's the story, darling? Any activity on the home front?"

You crack a grin. "Nah. Saw a couple of stray dogs, but some dead ones chased them off."

"Good. Last thing we need is some flea bags barking at our doors and drawing any more of the dead here."

"Yep."

Negan's eyes sparkle, his good mood setting the other two men on edge. After all, Negan in such a good mood usually meant violence was on the horizon. It also didn't help that he had Lucille gripped tight in hand and resting against his shoulder.

"Hey, boss man," you call out before he can take his leave after gesturing for you three to get back to work. He raises his eyebrows at you in response, awaiting what you have to say next. "Got any outings coming up? I'm feeling the need to stretch my legs a bit."

"Is that right?" Negan muses. Grinning, you nod, but then something off in the distance catches your attention. There's a small herd of the dead headed towards the Sanctuary and giving a short, shrill whistle, the other two saviors on guard duty take aim with you. Getting your target in sight, you pop three dead guys in the head before lowering your gun and giving Negan your full attention once more. "Goddamn," he laughs. "Someone's blood thirsty!"

"I'm just feeling a bit cooped up," you chuckle.

"If that's the case, I got a trip planned for Alexandria. You're more than welcome to tag along, sweet cheeks." Almost immediately, the smile drops from your face at the mention of Alexandria and you scowl. "Uh oh. Am I sensing some tension with Rick the Prick's little community?"

"You could say that," you huff. "Before you picked me up from the side of the road, I begged a few communities for sanctuary. Each and every one turned me away, but the one that hurt the most was the Alexandrian community."

"Yeah? And why's that?"

"They looked like a bunch of misfits," you shrug. "I thought I could make a home with them, but they turned me away because they were afraid of what I could do. They took one look at the blades strapped to my back, to the blood soaked clothes and the pile of dead guys that I killed when I got cornered, and basically told me I would never be trusted with them. If you go there, I want- no, I ask that you please let me tag along. I want them to regret not taking me in."

"You holdin' a grudge because they said no? My, my," Negan chuckles darkly, "you're a viscious little thing."

"No. I'm holding a grudge because even after I accepted that they wouldn't let me stay, I asked for a quick shower and a bit of food to get me through the rest of the day. They refused me that, too."

Negan stares at you, his head cocked to the side. Pursing his lips in thought, he eventually grunts. "Ah, what the hell. Color me intrigued, darling. I wanna see just how you're going to make Rick and his merry band of followers regret not taking you in."

"Oh, it's going to be marvelous," you tease him. "Trust me, boss man, you won't regret it. And whatever you may see tomorrow, just know that I am loyal to you and to the Sanctuary. You saved me, so I'm gonna have your back in this fucked up world we now live in."

"Are you now? Just how do you plan on doing that?"

"Come on, Negan, I can't give away all my secrets. At least not yet. I wanna scare those assholes tomorrow... and make you proud." Negan stares at you expectedly, so you decide to give him a little taste. Your next words are said quietly. "What I can do, it's not common. It's something I had to hide my entire life, but we live in a new world now. It's about time I use everything in my arsenal to my- excuse me, our- advantage."

"Damn, Y/N. You have me tingling all over. Just who the hell are you?" His excitement is quite palpable and you can't help but return his smile.

Rolling your eyes, you glance around to make sure you have a semblance of privacy. The other two on guard duty are not paying you any attention, so holding your hand out at your side... you turn to watch Negan's face as a few stray bullet casings fly into your palm. Negan's amusement slowly fades. "That's not even a fraction of what I can do," you murmur. "Whatever power that I've been blessed with since I was young, it's powerful. Extremely powerful. And totally at your disposal since you're the only one who gave me a shot at survival in this world without having to be totally alone."

Slowly, but surely, Negan's flashing his pearly whites at you. "Oh, sweetheart, I am most definitely looking forward to tomorrow. Be ready by ten."

"You got it."

The next morning you're up with the sun and getting ready for the day ahead. The outfit you first wore when Negan took you in- the studded army jacket with various straps, and the ripped jeans and studded boots- has been scrubbed and soaked clean of all the blood and grime. Your hair is being held back by two thin braids on either side of your head, and then after spending a good hour on re-sharpening your machetes those are then strapped to your back.

At ten, there's a knock at your door. Answering it, Negan is suited up in his leather jacket and red scarf. His hair is slicked back, beard groomed and Lucille gripped tight in hand. "Ho-ly shit, darling. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."

"The same could be said for you," you laugh. "The red scarf and leather jacket really, really suit you."

"Just say the word," he smirks as he watches you ogle him, "and I'll gladly find a spot for you in my bed."

You take a deep breath, letting your eyes rake him up and down one last time before slowly letting the breath out. "As tempting as that offer is, Sir, you know why I won't."

"Because you're a possessive little shit. Yes, I remember. But, darling, if getting rid of the wives is all it takes for me to get in those panties of yours then I might actually take you up on that offer."

Laughing, you nudge him back so you can step out of the room and shut the door behind you. But when you glance up at him, you see that he's awaiting an answer. Sure, he's smirking, but he's just waiting for you to catch up. "You're serious," you realize.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't lie about this. If the end result is me ending up between those pretty little thighs, I'd get rid of the wives as soon as possible. They're getting less and less enthused about it, and it's starting to feel like-"

"Don't say the 'R' word," you grimace. "I hate that word."

"As do I, but that's not the point and we're running out of time. Yes or no, Y/N. But just know that if you say yes, then you are mine." His smile vanishes and his gaze is suddenly very intense. "You are mine and mine alone."

"Fine," you shrug. "The ex-wives can keep their comfy rooms, but they're no longer granted access to your room."

"I think you mean our room," Negan chuckles.

"Yeah, whatever. And the ex-wives have to go to work too. None of them are going to be sitting on their asses any longer. It never sat right with me that anyone could sit pretty all because they spread their legs every other night."

"Goddamn you're turning me on," he hoots. "Darling, we still got work to do. Stop yapping so we can go ruin Rick's day and then when we get back, I'll happily screw your brains out."

"Jesus, fuck," you groan. "You can't say shit like that." You brush past him and start walking down the corridor, his boots thumping after you.

"Why? You like it."

"I do, but like you said... we have work to do and I can't scare a bunch of assholes when all I'm going to be able to think about is getting you in me as soon as possible."

Negan laughs. "If I had known you were this wet for me-"

You scoff, glaring over your shoulder. "Don't be gross."

"And just what are you going to do about it, sweetheart?"

You glance over your shoulder and watch on as Negan’s feet practically glue themselves to the ground. His smirk vanishes as he tries to move his forward, only to end up struggling to stay upright when his feet don’t move an inch. When he then glances up at you, your glare vanishes and you blow him a kiss. "Steel toed boots, huh?" You grin as Negan starts to chuckle at your little display. Gaze raking him up and down once more, you say, "You're wearing an awful lot of metal, boss man. You might wanna think about changing it up every now and then less I put you in positions you don’t find appealing."

"I'll keep that in mind. Now stop jerking me around and lets go. I got wives to divorce and set free, and you got a community to terrorize. Today's going to be a good day."

Feel free to leave a request for me to look at :)

[thepurebredking]

WELCOME HOME w/@SmartAssLass

Lass:  After speaking with one of the doggen who recognized me from before I left, I was led up to Wrath’s study to speak with him. As I walked into the doorway, I was overcome by his grief and anger, and God he looked like...well, like someone who’d lost everything. I only hoped that LW was coming along beside him in this shitshow. Knocking lightly on the jamb, I waited for his invitation to enter.

Wrath: It had been a long couple of weeks of loss and regret. Even though the mission had succeeded, the loss we had suffered was more than a lot of us could bear, and as a family, we were struggling. I had given everyone what time I could to grieve for our loved ones, but this war was far from over, and we couldn’t sit on our asses forever. There was a world out there to protect, and a whole race of people for me to rule over. They needed their King, and honestly, I needed to work. Sitting still had never done me any good. I learned that the hard way, after Beth passed unto the Fade. I pretty much excluded myself from everything and everyone for a long time. Eventually, I realized that LW needed his father, and the race needed its King. It was LW that got me off my ass, though. He took it tough when his mahmen passed. He went off the rails for a little bit. He needed the hard hand of his father to get back on track, and I couldn’t do that from the sidelines, so… I did what was needed to move forward.

Whiskey’s collar jingling from being lifted off the floor announced the visitor that was coming up the stairs. One whiff and I knew who it was. If that fucking sparklenut knows what’s good for him, he will turn right around and go back to where he’s been these past 90 some odd years. But the footsteps kept ascending until I heard the soft knock of what I knew was Lassiter. “What the fuck are you doing here, Lass?”

Lassiter: “I’m excited to see you, too, Your Majesty.” I replied with a hint of sarcasm. I couldn’t bust the guy's balls though. This was not the time to be worrying about pleasantries. He needed an angel, and I was here to get him back to not just breathing, but actually living. Besides, in hindsight, it was selfish and foolish to leave for so long and assume that everything would have been unchanged whenever I decided to return. “May I come in and speak with you for a bit?”

Wrath: The first thing that came to mind was, ‘Not unless you want me to smack that sparkling personality of yours right out of you.’ But, I bit my tongue. I had learned some diplomacy in the past century, and Lass was a connection to the Creator. I wasn’t sure how far my disdain would reach if I turned him away. So, instead, I replied. “Do I have a choice?”

In a way, I was furious at him for leaving us right before the shitstorm began. Another part of me knew that he couldn’t have known what was to come. But, his boss should have… and the Scribe Virgin should have. How had it not trickled down to the lightbulb over here? And, the last part of me was irate that he had left us for so long. Although, I’d never admit that. It’s just that he had his own way of lighting the place up. Yet how, over the past 90 some odd years, had he not heard about what was going on? How could he be so fucking stupid? Then again, this is Lass, oblivious to the end. Or, at least that’s what he’d like for everyone to believe. I knew better. He wasn’t as dumb as most thought. In fact, he was smarter than almost all of us… and that’s probably why I was so pissed. He should have known how bad things had gotten. Someone should have sent him back to us before now. Then again, was it about to get worse? Was that why he was here now? Fuck! I dropped my head into my hands, as I waited to hear what he had to say.

Lassiter: Without another word, I walked across the room to the chair in front of his desk and sat down, visualizing all the Brothers in the various places where they stood or sat when there were meetings to be had. Tears filled my eyes and my throat closed up so that it was a while before I could speak, and when I could, I didn’t know what to say. “My friend, I grieve with you. I had no idea about the losses sustained over the years. As soon as The Creator told me, I came. I have no words of wisdom or comfort, I can only say that I am sorry for your losses...for all the losses. I don’t even…”, my emotions overcoming me once again, I couldn’t finish the sentence. I could only sit and ache as the reality of the situation sunk into my very marrow.

Wrath: My fist slammed down on the desk before Lassiter had finished, and the desk groaned in response. “How could you not have fucking known?! How is it that after all that’s happened in the past 90 plus years, now you come back? Do you have any idea what we’ve been through? Did you have any inclination to even bother to check in? Did you know Tohr went unto the Fade?! Your charge! The one you came here to help. Gone. Not to mention the rest. We could’ve used you.” I stood up from my chair and began to pace behind my desk, as I needed another outlet for my rage. “On top of the losses, the lessers have gone and created a whole new race! They are stronger than they ever have been! And the Scribe Virgin went and poofed from existence! We’ve had no help, no direction, no signs that anyone has even given two shits about our race surviving. Do you have any idea what this fight has been like for us?” I stopped pacing, took in a deep breath, and rubbed my eyes under my wraparounds.

This was not what I had planned for tonight. This was supposed to be an easy night, alone in my office. No Audience House to go to, just me and some paperwork. A mundane evening. It was turning out to be anything but. Dear God, I missed Beth. She would know how to reign in this fury I was feeling. It was all I could do to not round the corner of my desk and wring his neck, right here.

Lassiter: What could I say? What could I do? He was right. I left a family I supposedly loved for nearly a century without ever once checking in, even for an overday stay...didn’t come around to see how the young were growing up...nothing. Dear God, what the King had been through, and although I wasn’t the cause, nor could I have changed most if not all of it, at the very least, I could have been here to walk through the valleys and weather the storms with him...with them. “Wrath, you’re right. You’re abso right. I abandoned you and this family. I did. I don’t have any excuse. I just never thought about anything happening. I was out living my life. Fuck”, putting my head in my hands, “I’m so sorry. I’m so goddamned sorry. The only thing I can do is come back to you and the Brotherhood and give the rest of my existence to help you defeat the Omega and his band of merry fucking soulless men, and that’s what I’m offering you, now. It’s all I have, and if you want me, I’m here. If not, I get it. I would like the opportunity to redeem myself to you, though...to prove now what I neglected to show before.” I blew out a breath and just leaned back into the prissy-ass, french-ugly chair, awaiting his answer.

Wrath: My brows knit in frustration and fury… Because, toss out a ‘you’re right,’ and a handful of ‘I’m sorries,’ and that’s going to make up for the years of abandonment, the decades of not even being an afterthought in Mr. Glitterpuss’ mind. “I’m sorry, but… no. Actually, I’m not sorry. I’m wondering how you think you can possibly just waltz in here, say you’re sorry and pick right back up where you left off? I refuse to speak for the whole Brotherhood here. They each will have to decide how far, if at all, they are willing to accept your apologies, and let you back in. As for me, I need some time on this one. If you had a reason, other than you were just ‘living your life,’ which basically means you were out doing your own thing without a thought for the people you left behind… if there had been any other reason, the Scribe Virgin or the Creator sent you on your own mission, you were helping out refugees in some third-world country, I don’t care what it was, just something that meant why you stayed away was important, something that kept you from checking in, then maybe, this would be easier. But, all you’re telling me is that you were just out doing what Lassiter does best, and that’s just fuck around.” I paused for a minute to sit back down. “Anyway, your room is no longer yours. There’s an empty room down the hall. I’ll let the family decide what to do with you.”

Lassiter: I wanted to be indignant. In fact, I started to get indignant, but that was pride, and something this situation had no room for was pride. If shit was gonna get done, everyone had to be on the same page, a well-oiled machine working on all cylinders. I absolutely could take that machine to a whole new level, but not if there was unforgiveness and resentment. The King was right. Unless each family member, and especially Brothers and fighters, bought into me being back and trusted me, this whole thing was a no-go, and I got it. I totally did. “I get it, and I understand, but remember, no matter the past, you have a chance to add another weapon to your stores the now, and I will do all that is in my power to help you see it through, now. I will go and await your decision.” Rising, with nothing left to be said, I exited the study and made my way to where my things had been set before a door down the hallway.

#WelcomeHome #ImmortalSinnersBDB

[sassyhazelowl]

A gift for @sanguine-fairy :) Merry Christmas! Some lyredy & colu goodness. Part one of three because I ran a little short of time to write out the whole thing before Christmas. 

The ceiling collapsing was definitely not in the plan.

Being swept off her feet by a random stranger masquerading as a white knight -- literally in this case, giving his shocking silver hair and ridiculous cape -- was not in the plan either but she kinda liked that. Meredy was a bit of a romantic at heart. But to put it bluntly, it didn’t mesh well with her life, and moments like these made her doubt her sanity.

More than usual anyway.

As debris rained down, threatening to bury the mages, a crack was the only warning she got before a blast of cold air ripped past her ear, ruffling her hood and loose locks of bubblegum hair. Ice formed before her eyes, arching out in a rippling pattern before interlocking into a shield over them, deflecting the biggest and worst of the blows that would have rained down on tender flesh.

In the chaos, several figures darted and ducked, shadowy and unsubstantial. Some of them, Meredy knew, was Jellal and the rest of Crime Sorciere, but there were several strangers too. Tracking down dark guilds sometimes led to a little more than espionage, especially since Sawyer and Erik had joined their merry little band of escaped criminals, but it rarely went this wrong.

Grit made her blink and duck her face against the broad chest of the man but before she did she saw a flash of bright yellow, and then the second blast tore through the area, tearing down the very walls around them and tossing mere tiny humans like dolls. There was enough force behind it to rip her loose from her knight's grasp, even though he'd been clutching so hard she was certain there'd be finger-shaped bruises etched into fair skin beneath fabric. Shards of ice flew as the shield gave, screams of pain and fear echoed as unfortunates were hit, and Meredy squeezed her eyes shut as she left herself fly loosely, praying the landing wouldn't be cripplingly.

As the world came into focus, disorientation kicked in. Common sense and experience left her laying very still as consciousness and its friends returned in a jumbled rushed, bit by bit, instinct up at arms for further threats. Meredy's survival instinct was well honed, like a bodybuilder's physique, and her will to live burned nearly as much as the throbbing in her leg and arm. Her falls must have been broken on the left side, and she'd taken enough tumbles to protect her important parts while skidding and bouncing around on the inhospitably hard rocks that tended to line the bottom of caves. Someday, just someday, she'd like to crash into a feather bed instead.

Bits of angry dialogue floated in, loud and argumentative, her face breaking into a relieved smile at Erik's belligerent voice. At least one of her teammates were safe, and judging by the volume, perfectly okay.

"Who the fuck are you?"

The retort was just as outraged, shrill with indignation and a hint of leftover adrenaline, "Uh, shouldn't you have asked me that BEFORE grabbing me?!!!"

Erik groaned, deep and heart-felt, the way he did when he realized it was his turn to do chores or that Sorano had requisitioned his sleeping roll or that same sound he made about nearly every single announcement Jellal made to the group. Annoyed. Aggravated. Put out. Tired of life. Whoever he'd recognized, the person wasn't a threat or a stranger. It was someone he knew, which means it was someone Meredy knew, probably, but her brains were scrambled up.

She didn't have long to wait in suspense though. Erik wasn't known for beating around the bush.

"Uggh, Fairy Tail chick. Again."

"Uggh, Rude Snake boy. Again." Her tone mimicry was incredibly spot-on despite the pitch being quite a bit higher and far more feminine.

Meredy couldn't see his face, but his tone was full of disgust as he continued, "So if you're here, so is Scarlet. Our damn fearless leader is going to fuck-off and abandon his damn job and become more useless than ever. Fucking perfect."

Lucy's retorted hotly, "Erza won't leave us here... wherever here is."

"Sure, Blondie, sure. The fucking-off wasn't literal; that asshole wouldn't even know where to stick it, probably. Just got a past record of following his dick's head instead of his brain when Scarlet is around." Erik had a lot of respect for Erza, Meredy knew, and she tried not to be offended by his words, even though a prickle of defensiveness kicked in automatically on Jellal's behalf. He wasn't wrong in his words, but they rubbed against the grain. However, living with Erik demanded when to know when to pick your battles. Now wasn't the time.

Besides, her eyelids struggled to open; she had bigger things to worry about in the grand scheme of things than someone who wasn't even present's reputation. Wheezing softly as she wiggled sideways, a weak cough squirmed out between her lips. The taste of copper didn't accompany it, only a dull blossom of burning across her ribs to match the rest of her body.

Cold.

A chill pressed against her temple, forcing her eyelids to snap open as the soothing feeling spread across her skin. If her silly brain had been expecting true love's kiss a brush away, it was sorely disappointed. All that greeted her gaze was the man's profile as he turned to regard Erik and Lucy without a trace of amusement on his stern, icy features. Fingers drifted mindlessly across her forehead, spreading a blissful numbing on the budding headache.

“Are you unharmed?” his gaze never left the two mage’s but his voice was gentle and clearly directed at her. She was terribly injured, terribly, and she’d have to stay in his lap for at least another ten minutes, maybe forever. For recovery purposes, of course. Reluctantly, she grunted and tried to push herself up, wheezing, “Been better.”

Maybe the rib was bruised; she hoped the rib was bruised. Each time she took in a drag of air, there was an ominous wheeze.

“Regretfully, Chelia was separated by the cave-in, but perhaps Heartfilia or… your companion” his face hardened and if it grew any colder she’d be feeling the effects of frostbite, “are trained in some first aid. Although, I doubt a poisoner would be of any use in a situation of healing.”

Erik just made friends wherever he went, didn’t he? Meredy sighed, wince when her ribs reminded her not to breathe so deeply. She knew about the Oracion Seis’ colorful past, to some extent, but however they’d met last time, it hadn’t be on the same side and grudges could last a long time. Not everyone was freakish like Fairy Tail about baseless forgiveness. This was already a rocky situation, but if both the Fairy Tail mage and the Ice Mage had horrible experiences with Erik in the past, things could get ugly.

“Look, Blondie, no one asked you and your pet snowman to butt into the middle of our mission.”

“Are you implying I made the ceiling fall in?” Lucy retorted archly and Meredy hid a smile. Not many people talked back to Erik so imputently. It was super cute. Plus, now that she could see his face, she knew he was enjoying it more than being annoyed by it. “Maybe you did it, you jerk! We barely just got here and the next thing I know there are rocks falling on my head and some big lug is grabbing me without asking.”

Technically, both parties had been dumb enough to walk into a trap and trigger it, but Meredy didn’t think now was the best time to bring that up. The escape of the dark guild was the least of their worries, she noted, as her gaze took in any claustrophobe’s ultimate nightmare. Dust trickled down, pebbled rolled and settled, and in the dim lighting only two immediate exits presented themselves, both cramped and dark. Perfect for more ambushes.

The bickering escalated in moments before Lucy’s summon filled the air, ringing across the small space with an authoritative air before fading away without echo.

“Virgo, dig us out!”

The spirit gave a short nod, shackles and apron swinging in a flurry. Meredy took the opportunity to slip out from under the Ice Mage’s firm hand during the distraction. He made a small sound she almost took for disappointment but wasn’t brave enough to link even for a second to find out. Besides, how would she tell his disappointment from hers?

“Yes! See, why don’t you do something useful?” Lucy’s crow was cut short by the maid returning, “I’m very sorry, Princess, but there seems to be a magic barrier preventing me from completing the tunnel. Perhaps you shall punish me for my failure?”

Lucy’s shoulders deflated as she muttered, “Never that easy, is it?”

The ice mage swept to his feet, holding a hand down to help Meredy stagger to her feet as well. Her leg hurt but it held steady and she was glad she’d chosen to switch to pants so the fabric was shredded rather than her skin. Arm out for her to lean on, he turned his attention towards the other two.

“Heartfilia has the right idea, as is to be expected. We should concentrate our efforts to extract ourselves from this current situation and give aid to our injured party members. The mission itself can wait until we’ve regrouped…”

Erik’s face grew mutinous, “Party? We ain’t together…”

“It is unavoidable circumstance,” the man replied calmly but his shoulders tensed and jaw hardened. She had the feeling if her weight wasn’t hanging off his arm, bitter cold would be gathering in preparation. Instead, he added flatly, “Besides, your companion is hurt, and furthermore, I am responsible for Heartfilia’s safety and well-being.”

Meredy nearly choked as Lucy’s face grew into a mutinous scowl that matched Erik’s perfectly.

“Pinky and I are fine without you, Ice Prick.”

“Be as that may, neither of you are in any shape to be fighting dark guild members or to go staggering through an underground maze. Believe me, this is hardly the most thrilling outcome I can imagine either.”

“I can fight just fine.”

An eyebrow arched in response.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with me.”

“Then by all means, go, but the ladies should stay here.”

Lucy’s scowled deepened, and Erik was glowering, the tips of his fangs peeking beneath taunt lips. It was going to be a race to see which one exploded first.

“You’re not the boss of me!” “Who died and made you the leader?”

This, apparently, was not the reaction he was expecting, judging by the eye bulging and slight jaw drop. Meredy could’ve seen it miles off, given Jellal had gotten the exact same attitude a million times before.

While Lyon sputtered his way through indignant shock, Meredy spoke, scratchy and frog-like, careful not to cough the dust out of her lungs, “He has a point; we should find a way out.” Face squinching up, she added with an unsteady point towards what she’d seen earlier, “It sucks there only seems to be two ways out. We might have to split up.”

All three turned to look, surprised and sheepish. Seriously? No one noticed that before? She was the unconscious one here!

“I am not sure…” the Ice mage began.

“So contrived,” Lucy added, eyeing the holes with a hefty dose of skepticism, unwilling to jump headfirst into another potential trap.

“Welp, there you go. Decided, c’mon Blondie.” Erik announced loudly, grabbing her wrist and dragging her along towards the left tunnel. “He said leave the ladies, so it's time for us to split. Stay in touch, Pinky, so we know where you are to rescue the damsels.”

That self-serving little… grrr. He just wanted to get out from under the other man’s thumb, and he threw her under the bus to do it! Anger burned brightly, sparking her temper, and she sucked in a huge breath to let him know how she felt about the matter… only to belated remember what a terrible idea that was. The consequences were swift and unforgiving, leaving her bent over, hacking and wheezing and whining with protest at her lungs’ rebellion.

“Did he refer to me as a damsel…?”

If she wasn’t busy hacking her lungs up her esophagus, she’d reassure him that was exactly what Erik had done. But if she wasn’t busy hacking up her lungs, she’d also be cursing Erik with every single bad word Sorano had taught her and a few more that she’d picked up on their travels.

Sooth circles across her back eased the coughing fit.

Awfully free with the touching, she thought, both her wits and her guard back up. Straightening, she brushed his hand off. It wasn’t a curt gesture but it was firm. She wasn’t a child, she wasn’t his girlfriend or even his friend, and he hadn’t asked.

Even so, she missed his touch instantly, a sort of hunger awakened. Any nice touches to grace her person were few and far between. Hair was braided, every so often, shoulders were clapped in celebration or comradery, sometimes. When she was younger, her nightmares were an excuse to crawl into others’ beds, but now they earned a few pats to the head and murmurs of sympathy. It was enough because it had to be enough, not because it was.

“Are you certain you are well?”

“As well as I’m going to be, under the circumstances, to quote your words. Look, thanks for worry, but it's just a few bruised ribs, I think, nothing life threatening. I can still walk,” painfully, she supplemented, not thrilled at all about it, “And despite what Erik said, we can’t just wait around like damsels in a tower. What if the dark guild attacks? You said it, I’m in no shape to fight, and you can’t fight if you have to defend. Plus,” she smothered a wheeze, “we’re going to run out of air. I can already feel it.”

He gave her a long, assessing look that peered deeper than she wanted, making her squirm at the scrutiny. Those eyes were dark, piercing and had a sharp edge to them that chilled, and if anyone could look at her soul with their eyes, she was certain it’d be his.

“Leave a girl some mystery, will you?” the protest slipped out. What an overbearing, invasive jerk. It lacked bite, though.

“I am impressed by your logic and rational.”

“Are you suggesting that girls are hysterical and emotional?”

“W-what… no…”

“Listen, I’ve spent years with two reckless suicidal maniacs and now run around with a group of Fuck the Man criminals with the common sense of wolverines. Someone has to keep their head on straight.” Meredy gave an exhausted sigh just remembering some of the more recent incidents; it was amazing they got to keep their heads at all given the dangerous situations they’d scraped out of.

Rifling through his pack, he pulled out a small, odd-looking lacrima the color of burnt caramel. Curiosity lured her in. Shiny things were a weakness she’d rather not admit to, especially magical ones.

“Chelia embedded some power in it, for emergencies.”

“I see.” Meredy vaguely remembered a name and face but it didn’t clear anything up about what the lacrima.

“May I?” he gestured to her breasts with a flush shining beneath pale skin. Crossing her arms across herself, she glared. The flush deepened, eyes suddenly full of panic. Gesturing with jerky movements, his mouth made a few sounds that could have been words slurred out by a drunk or a particularly talented parrot.

Why were guys always like this? Gross.

“It requires application at the site of the injury, I swear,” he finally managed, the flush down his neck and collarbone. Jerking out both hands with the lacrima nestled in between, he ducked his head like a teenage boy, “I am… it is not what you are imagining! I… here, you place it and I will activate it.”

It was her turn to flush to match her hair.

Biting her lip, the lacrima was retrieved hastily and pressed against the worst of the pain, “Thanks.”

It seemed like the most awkward time to bring this up, his hand at arm’s length, hovering haphazardly as he tried to look but not look and touch but not touch, but it’d been driving her crazy this whole time.

He was just so familiar.

“What’s your name again?”

His hand slipped and she wasn’t even mad. At him. Erik, on the other hand, was going to get it for leaving her behind and taking the Fairy Tail mage. What happened to Crime Sorciere sticks together? Granted, that’d never been their motto, but it was the feeling that counted.

She hoped Lucy was giving him hell for her, she truly did.

[greenspasm]

The Great Tory Terror

If you’ve been following this election and are not completely terrified at the prospect of another 5 years of Tories, then there is something completely wrong with you. Oh no, I’m not exaggerating; there must be something actually wrong with you if you look at the Tories and say “well they get my vote”. Whether its a compassion deficiency or just general ignorance, something isn’t right with you. Get it checked out. Consult a doctor while we still have them.

Do I sound alarmed? No shit! What, you thought this was going to be happy fun times? Oh blowing this out of proportion am I? Well let me break this down as much as possible.

Tory Track Record

Life under the Tories is like an endless boxing match between an enraged gorilla and a crippled, blind 5 year old. There are 4 types of people in this scenario. There are those who are the child - severely outmatched and outgunned, with absolutely no hope in sight of surviving let alone fighting back. There are those who watch from the sidelines - some cheering, some howling with pity. There are those who are the referee - trying to actually stop the onslaught by doing everything in their democratic power to fight back; and there are those who are the Gorilla - we call them Tories.

You see, Tories don’t give a shit. About what? Ha ha, does it matter. Tories don’t give a flying fuck about anything. They are husks. Empty shells posing as people that perpetually seek to fill their internal voids by taking. Taking what? anything and everything. Money, jobs, skills, education, sometimes even lives. Oh I’m not accusing them of murder, they just help. At their core, Tories have one single goal: to marginalise and even sometimes eradicate anything that isn’t them. They’re rich, so the poor have to go. They’re under private healthcare, so get rid of the NHS. They’ve never had to worry about employment or anything else, so those that can’t afford education or struggle to be employed, they’re just under achievers and have to be demonised. 

A Tory’s greatest weapon is abhorrance. The closest adjective I have to describe how horrifyingly malicious this is is ‘evil’. Tories teach you to hate. Hate everyone. Like a cancer they spread their viewpoints onto the masses. Hate foreigners, hate pensioners, hate the working man, hate doctors, hate teachers, hate the impoverished, hate them all and then hate some more. Tories have done this since day one. Every Tory government in some way shape of form has used hatred of others to win support. “Why should you help others? What did they ever do for you? Why should you pay for someone who can’t work? You’re a hard worker, so why should they get the money you earned?” They pump this shit out constantly and it works, and in the worst cases it creates a belief of “if it doesn’t happen to me, it doesn’t happen at all”.

Because the thing is people suffer under the Tories. Tory rule leads to cuts, leads to food banks, leads to zero hour contracts, leads to tuition fees and more. People suffer under the Tories, but the pre-installed abhorrance is the masterstroke. Right when your anger is about to boil over into taking action, the Tories swoop in and tell you who to blame. “Oh, your skill and trade is dying out? Blame the EU. You’re struggling to get a job, or an appointment with your GP? Well that’s immigration for you. You think crime is on the rise and the police are useless? Well that’s the youths of today - they expect handouts daily and when they don’t get it they commit crimes. No, no, no, it isn’t our fault. We didn’t outsource your skills to other nations because it was cheaper for us - the billionaires. We haven’t been dismantling the healthcare system or discouraging doctors - forcing them to strike. We haven’t been cutting funds to services countrywide. Don’t blame us, blame them!”

And people lap it up, because of course they do. This is bad enough as it is, but why then is this election seemingly more nightmarish than ever. Two reasons. One of them is Brexit.

The Problem with Brexit

On May 18th 2017, ITV held a debate where the leaders of each party stood on stage and argued their case. I hate these. All it is is bickering half the time and the stage is too full for any coherent point to be made. But even so, two people didn’t attend. Jeremy Corbyn and Theresa May. Now before you scoff and sneer at Corbyn, it’s worth noting he didn’t attend because Theresa had already pulled out. Had Corbyn gone on that stage without her, he would have been public enemy number 1 and would have received a royal bollocking from everyone else there. Why? Because he’s the opposition, the one closest to fighting back against May, and of course he wouldn’t have done enough - no matter what he argued. The worst thing about this is the Tories would get off scot free. Since they wouldn’t be there, they’d happily sit back and watch as their main threat is taken down live on television - plummeting Corbyn’s public opinion. So not attending was a smart move on Corbyn’s part, and had Theresa turned up, I reckon he’d have been there, but what was Theresa’s excuse?

Let me make something perfectly clear: Theresa May did not attend because she is a coward - like all Tories, really. Having been in power for 7 years now, the conservatives couldn’t even turn up to defend their actions. “Oh but Theresa hasn’t even been in charge for that long, so your point is invalid” oh I’m sorry, was David Cameron an alien from outer space, not affiliated with the Tories at all? Are we voting for one person in the election or the party they’re a part of? Theresa might only have been in charge for some 9 months or so now, but it has been a conservative government for 7 years (yes, I’m including the coalition because that was Tory lite, diet Tory if you will). If she’s part of that government, leader or otherwise, that’s the record she’s defending. 

And she didn’t have the balls to turn up. Oh but that didn’t stop the official Conservative Twitter account from tweeting about the debate.

Oh yeah. Didn’t have the balls to turn up but from the comfort of your safe space you feel you can just commentate and criticise, do you? If you’re that passionate about another party’s failings, TURN UP AND DEBATE THEM, but if you’re too spineless to do that, then sit down and kindly shut the fuck up.

This is what I’m getting at. Theresa May and the Tories are weak. Not in numbers, nor in the polls, but in character. They are weak, spineless human beings. They’re the bullies in the school yard who are all mouth when you’re alone and they’re surrounded by mates, but put them one and one and watch how suddenly quiet they become. Weak. Utterly pathetic and weak.

And some of you think they’re the ones to get us out of the EU?

Look, I don’t care if you’re a leaver or a remainer. I don’t care if you want hard brexit or soft brexit or no brexit; but knowing that this is the character of the conservative party, do you really think they’re the chosen ones to take on Brussels? 26 vs 1. That’s the reality here, folks. Doesn’t matter what you think is right, or for the best, the reality is it’s Us versus the EU in a web of complicated negotiations. To even see daylight at the end of this we need the best, and Theresa certainly isn’t that. “Oh but what about Corbyn, you think he’s any better?” I’ll take my bloody chances, mate! Corbyn’s actually talking about policies to do with Britain. The EU is there of course, but he’s not running an election on it. Unlike someone else I could name.

Right now Theresa and her merry band of nitwits are all touting the same rhetoric - “strong and stable”. Thing is, they used the exact same rhetoric at the 2015 election and look where we are now. Food banks on the rise, NHS crumbling, and we’re leaving the EU with absolutely no idea of what lies around the corner. This is supposed to be strong and stable? Christ. Quite frankly I can’t see things getting any worse with Labour. 

Also, there’s nothing strong or stable about holding a snap election after months of denial, right after triggering article 50. Don’t know if you know this, Theresa, but this is OUR time we’re wasting here. The EU will gladly just wait this out. But us? We’ve got 2 years, less than that now, to have a deal figured out with the EU. If we don’t have one:

Point is, we’re on a deadline. We haven’t got the precious time to piss about, and we’re dossing around with elections?! So yeah, strong and stable aren't the words coming to my mind when I think about you or your government, Theresa. Incompetent and delusional are closer.  

I have zero faith in this government as it is, but they also want the hard Brexit route, claiming its the will of the people. Even if you voted leave, hard Brexit is not what you want. Even if you think it is, it isn’t. It will isolate us completely and leave us with nothing. It has the potential to plunge Britain into a bloody depression, and no, this isn’t project fear. At a time when the world is at its most global, being isolated is national suicide. We will have very little, and we’ll have no help. “Well at least we won’t be in the EU anymore” What’s that, you’ve got a headache? Well let me decapitate you. Sure you’ll be a little on the dead side, but hey, at least your headache’s gone. Long story short, if you think the Tories will get the best deal for Britain and - by proxy - you, you are severely mistaken.

So Brexit is a massive chasm of shit to get through, but there is also another haunting thing the Tories have that is somehow equally as frightening.

The Monstrous Manifesto

Despite primarily running this election on buzzwords and Brexit, the Tories do actually have some policies to go along with it. Yeah, it’s most of the same. Cut this, add that. She hasn’t put down “kill all the poor” yet, so that’s a plus; but as you scroll through it, more and more policies start to get scary. 

For example, the Tories want to decide what you can or can’t say on the internet. Even if you’re thinking this isn’t full blown authoritarian yet, it’s the thin end of the wedge, and as I’ve already said, I don’t trust the Tories at all. Do not think they will have self-control. They will take as much as they can get away with, and if we’re out of the EU, that’ll be a lot. It’s in moments like these that remind me of how everyone criticises PC culture.

George Carlin once said “political correctness is fascism with a smile” and people have lauded that ever since. “How dare you tell me what I can or cannot say, that’s fascism” is the aggregate response to PC culture, but I think a lot of people don’t understand what fascism actually is. In regards to free speech, fascism is like the perfect Tory - it doesn’t give a shit. See, a fascist state can arrest you for speaking your mind. You can face actual punishment for having a different opinion from those in power, or worse, you can be killed. Alarming? You’re damn right it is. PC culture isn’t fascism unless it becomes law to arrest or kill racists for being racist. PC respects free speech, it just asks that you’re not a dick about it. You face no actual punishment for being a bigot or just being an all around piece of garbage - so stop comparing PC culture to fascism, especially when real fascism can just waltz into power with a breath of “strong and stable”.

Other elements of the manifesto include needing ID to vote. On the surface it makes okay sense, but one look across the pond and you’ll see how in the hands of the right-wing this will lead to problems. Tories already despise the poor and the young. They’ll never give 16 year olds the vote because JESUS they’ve been shitting on the young all their lives. Tuition fees are more than ever a joke now, and don’t even think of owning your own property you young bastards, we wouldn’t want you to aspire now, would we. Voter ID has the potential to lead to voter suppression. No matter what ID you bring, it might not qualify to vote. They’ll say it’s to fight voter fraud, but the reality is they simply don’t want certain people to vote; and since they’ll have our internet data, they’ll know just who to keep out.

Sorry if it’s all a bit tin-foil-hat right now. I’ll admit, we’re seemingly a long way from that, and maybe I am scaremongering, but ask if I think it’s beyond the Tories and my answer is a profound “Nope!” This is exactly in line with the way they do things. They’re essentially dictators living in a democracy, so much so that the longer they stay in power, and the fewer checks and balances they have, the less of a democracy we actually live in. 

Right now, the manifesto isn’t even a manifesto. It’s not trying to win votes. Nothing in there will sway non-Tories, even if their lives depended on it. The manifesto is unabashedly brutal on all fronts because they do not think they can lose. Tories are typically arrogant as it is, but this is the worst I’ve ever seen them. 

Don’t know what I mean? How about the t’wat Tory candidate for wakefield openly showing contempt for working class people in his constituency because, apparently, if you go to Costa coffee, you’re fair game:

He said this for the world to see, on Twitter, because he feels he can’t lose. What about conservatives with a platform calling underprivileged people with tragic pasts liars or lazy:

Then of course there’s Theresa herself, who is so unbelievably out of touch she says this and thinks nothing of it:

Just say “let them eat cake” and be done with it. Being employed isn’t a miracle cure for all life’s problems and this goes doubly so under Tory rule.

This is another reason why Theresa didn’t turn up to debate. She feels so confident in victory that she thinks she doesn’t have to try. That’s how little regard she has for you. You aren’t even worth the effort to win over. They think they are unstoppable, and its a despairing thought the think they might be right.

So in summary: the Tories hate you. They hate what you love; they hate what you hate; and they in no way want what you want. They can’t be trusted. No amount of buzzwords will change that. Like the vampires on the doorstep asking sweetly to be invited in, it doesn’t mean they won’t drink your blood as soon as they get chance. They’re leeches in every way. They’re cowards. They’re spineless, pathetic, and weak. They’re out-of-touch, closeted fascists who want to do all in their power to keep you in the stone age, and if they win this election, they’ll have nothing to stop them. 

On June 8, I don’t care who you are; where you live; what you want - for Brexit or otherwise - just don’t vote Tory. Vote tactically to keep them out of your your constituency and reduce their majority. Or don’t. Either way, just don’t vote Tory.

Don’t do it.

“Oh politicians are all the same” No, they’re really not. Not this time.

Vote, and do not vote Tory.

If you do vote Tory, you’re everything I just described above.

So don’t.

DON’T VOTE TORY!