#so wait.... THAT MUST MEAN SOMETHING IS GOING TO GO AWRY WITH THE PROCEDURE?????????

[dylanconrique]

SHUT THE FUCK UP KELLY PUT STELLA'S NAME DOWN AS HIS EMERGENCY CONTACT FOR THE BONE MARROW TRANSPLANT??? SIR???? SIR?????

[bluesfortheredj]

A Beautiful Mistake Chapter 18.

The two of you walk through the gates with beaming faces, your arm linked through his as you rest your cheek on his shoulder, but your joy soon turns to concern as you see the crowds that had gathered in the middle of the settlement, and the pained cries that call out after the sound of leather against skin make you wince each time you hear them. Samuel’s free hand comes up and holds your face against his arm to prevent you from seeing anything, but Redwick is quick to spot the two of you and halt you in your tracks.

“You’re missing it! Come with me, I’ll take you to the front of the crowd!” he declares, grabbing Samuel’s arm and dragging you both through the throng of people.

“I thought this would start tomorrow,” Samuel states to a joyous Marshal.

“There’s no time like the present dear Samuel! Don’t you want to see the man behind your dear wife’s attack punished? And Mistress Castell, do you not want to see him get what he deserves for launching such an atrocious man upon you? What if it had gone awry and he had not intervened in time? You could be dead.”

You look up at Samuel, unable to turn to face the source of the anguished groans coming from only a short distance away, but Redwick walks around to you and forcefully turns your head to meet James’ pleading gaze which is directed straight at you; the Marshal’s large fingers hurting your jaw as he holds you in place.

“Let her go!” Samuel snaps, then quickly pulls you away from everyone and through the crowd back to your house where Mercy waits on the step with tears in her eyes.

“Oh Mercy,” you sigh, “come inside, don’t listen to what’s happening dear girl.”

You skip ahead of Samuel to take her in your arms and lead her back into the dwelling so she can no longer hear the grunts and whips that alternate outside, then sit her down on a chair and make her some tea to ease her fragile mind.

“I’ll do that Mistress Castell, I don’t want to be a bother, you need to rest, I-”

“Mercy, it’s tea,” you smile, “I can manage to make tea.”

Samuel stands with his back against the door as he looks on at you bustling around to make sure Mercy is okay, and his face falls at the spectacle that was happening outside your four walls. Just as you’d received the good news that you wouldn’t be the first couple in Jamestown to give birth, you’re faced with the utterly horrid sight of James facing his punishment earlier than agreed, and Redwick just had to rub your faces in it for his own enjoyment.

“Samuel, you look worried my love,” you frown after handing Mercy her drink.

You place your hands upon his cheeks to focus his distant stare on your eyes and he gives you a half hearted smile as he lifts his arms and takes a hold of yours gently.

“Are you not worried?” he questions quietly.

“Of course I am. James is out there being beaten because of me. How could I not worry? I’m the one who put him in this position, I deserve to be punished for it.”

“No you don’t,” he says, shaking his head from side to side.

“Maybe I do though…” you gasp, realising that maybe if you stood by as witness to what was happening to James, no matter how much it pained you to watch, then maybe you’d be forgiven, “Samuel, I have to see him. If I do this then we could be free from hurt, and our sins would be forgiven.”

“Are you feeling quite well my love?” he asks with concern furrowing his brow.

“I feel as if I need to do this Samuel, do you trust me?”

“Implicitly sweetheart.”

“Then I must go and see him until his punishment is over,” you nod, mostly to yourself.

“(Y/N), I-” Samuel starts, but you’ve already moved past him and slipped out of the gap in the front door before he can get another word out.

You slowly push your way to the front of the crowd, your eyes turned down to the ground as you try and prepare yourself for what you were about to witness, and then when you no longer see feet in front of you, you manage to lift your gaze towards the origin of those awful noises you were hearing. There stood James with his eyes trained on you straight away, his body convulsing each time he’s hit with the whip, and you watch as he tries to mouth something to you.

“Come to see the bad man get what he deserves?” Jocelyn asks smugly from beside you.

“I’ve come to face my own punishment,” you reply softly.

“Your punishment for what?”

“Acting upon unlawful feelings for another man.”

“Ha!” she laughs, “power is what I want, not a man. Samuel was nothing more to me than a step up in the ranks, but he didn’t even have the balls for that so I simply couldn’t live like that anyway.”

“So why the assault in the woods? Why get me to feed you information?”

“I thought it would be a fun little game. I mean, you were in the wrong, but you didn’t have to know that I didn’t care just yet...”

You briefly turn your head to see her haughty expression as she takes in the sight of James being punished with a smile, and you frown as you turn back to the poor man.

“And this was my idea anyway,” she sighs, “such a shame he got found out.”

“What?”

“I told him that to try and steal your affections back he must make a bold statement, save your life or something to make you fall into his arms. It was almost too easy to convince him, he was so desperate for you I actually almost felt sorry for him.”

“You really are something else, aren’t you?” you scoff, “so who’s your target now then?”

“Dear Christopher seems sweet on me, and as a Doctor he would know more than most when it came to the men who control this settlement. I could use that to my advantage.”

Your eyes convey your worry that he would let slip information about you, but Jocelyn simply waves her hand dismissively and laughs.

“Don’t worry, you and Samuel have done your jobs for me, I only have interest in them now,” she says, nodding towards where Redwick, the Governor, and Farlow, “they hold the key to power.”

“Were you hoping this would happen to James then? To gain the trust of Redwick?”

“Oh, she’s clever, too!” Jocelyn gasps, “of course. I tell James what to do, James gets found out, and the dear Marshal over there gets what he wants… Thanks to me.”

“Congratulations,” you mutter.

“So I wouldn’t worry about punishing yourself by watching James all day, as you have nothing to be punished for. Just look at me, I seem to be doing fine!” she laughs before walking away into the crowd again.

The sound of the whipping suddenly stops as the man carrying out the punishment pauses to change hands and take a sip of water, and you hear James ask if he may have a drop himself but all he receives is a laugh as the man puts a cup just out of reach. You’re quick to run forwards and pick it up so you can tip some moisture into his mouth as you wipe some of the dirt from his sweat covered face with your handkerchief.

“Why did you come back?” he whispers.

“I… don’t know,” you lie, shaking your head and feeling thoroughly stupid.

“Your sweet face is the only thing getting me through this (Y/N), but please leave, go back to Samuel, you must not be witness to such- ah! Go!” he cries as the whipping resumes.

You jump back from him in shock as the punishment suddenly continues and you stand with the crowd, your eyes wandering over to where Jocelyn now stood talking to Marshal Redwick, obviously telling him of her scheming in hopes of forming some sort of alliance so she can further climb the ladder of Jamestown. It all goes awfully though as Redwick laughs in her face while he tells her to leave him alone, and she purses her lips before storming off in a huff, which you can’t help but smile at. A dull ache in your abdomen reminds you that you were already facing some sort of wrath from the powers above, and as your mind wanders to what would happen if you were to die while you back away from the sight of James, you’re suddenly stopped by the Governor’s wife who appears beside you with a breathless pant.

“Mistress Castell,” she breathes rather urgently, “have you heard of Alice Sharrow’s news?!”

“I have!” you beam, “it’s wonderful isn’t it?”

“It’s a miracle,” she sighs happily, “the first child of Jamestown! Oh, how the people will love them.”

“It will certainly bring joy to the settlement.”

“And it shouldn’t be too long until you have your own news to share,” she smiles, “family is so very important, and we need to lay our roots down.”

“I’d be honoured to carry Samuel’s child,” you nod, “and to have a family of our own would bring me so much happiness.”

“You look a little pale Mistress Castell, do make sure you’re keeping well especially if you are planning to have a baby. Maybe see Doctor Priestley to make sure everything is okay? How about I come with you?” she suggests, trying to take over your whole body it seems.

“I will make sure I go with Samuel,” you smile as politely as you can muster, “thank you for your concern.”

“Good… good! Have a good day.”

“And you!”

You walk back to the house and enter the door with a faint smile playing on your lips as you think about the Governor’s wife and how controlling she was, then you notice Samuel and Christopher sitting in a now solemn silence at the table with their heads turned and focused on you.

“Are you okay my love?” you gasp, rushing towards Samuel and taking his head in your hands as you examine his face carefully.

“I am fine,” he sighs, placing his hands over yours and bringing one of them to his mouth so he can kiss your palm, “we’re just… we…” tears prick his eyes as he struggles to finish his sentence, and Christopher takes over.

“We were discussing any procedure that might have to happen if your situation were to worsen and I’d have to intervene.”

“What would it entail?” you ask quietly.

“I would have to make an incision-”

“This is not for her ears, Christopher,” Samuel hisses.

“No, I need to hear what will happen,” you say as you move away from Samuel and lean against the wall.

“I would make an incision in your abdomen to reach through to your kidney where I would then need to make a hole big enough to fit my equipment in and remove each stone one by one before sewing you up again. You will pass out from the pain of it eventually, and there is a high risk of infection afterwards. I have not done this sort of procedure before… and if you were to still be with child then I fear the baby would not survive due to the trauma inflicted upon your body,” he explains calmly.

Your legs begin to shake beneath your weight and before you know what’s happening you’ve slid down the wall and landed on the floor as the colour drains from your face.

“(Y/N)!” Samuel gasps, dropping to his knees to help you.

“I’m fine,” you whisper unconvincingly, “I’m fine.”

@lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @timeandpixiedust  @antonomase @queen-bunnyears @leah-halliwell92 @queen-paladin

[serzhantkris]

Something Worth Fighting For- 13

Summary: You’ve just begun to settle into life as an Avenger when a mission gone awry divides the team in half, and a familiar face shows up just in time to make you second guess your every choice. Third installment of the Worth Fighting For Series.

Words: 1788

Part 12  Masterlist

A steady, high-pitched ringing echoes around you. It swarms like bees, but try as you might to swat the sound away, your hands don’t want to move.

You must be in a river. It’s the only viable explanation for what’s happening to you. Everything is cold, the hairs on your arms stand on end as you try to wade away from the noise. But you can’t move, not fast enough, and it’s too dark to see where you’re going, or what it is you’re trying to run from. The ringing has become clearer, like it’s been trudged out of the mud to the surface. It comes in rhythmic beats, no longer a steady ring, but a pulsing of mechanical beats.

The water’s thinner, but you still can’t walk. You reach through the waist-level water, the bitter cold of it consuming your legs under the surface. Even though a light has appeared somewhere up ahead- white, clean- you still can’t see. You wave your hands in front of you, grasping for anything to pull you out of the water, frantically searching for something, anything to get away from the cold.

Whether you grabbed onto something or not, you don’t know. But the darkness is gone, a ring of light around your eyelids as you wake. The water is gone, but your body is numb, fuzzy, like static electricity. 

There’s a blur of noise, somewhere faraway, like someone talking through a window. Your eyes try to open, try to peer through the thick air, but all you can see is frosted, green glass. Body heavy, almost like moving through wet concrete, you try to lift an arm to bang on the glass. There’s a rush, something saline, the salty smell hitting your nose like a harsh wind, that swarms into your veins, and then-- sleep.

The next time you see light, it’s blinding, white, and hurts in the back of your head. The air doesn’t taste right, feels like it’s being pushed too hard into your lungs, and it makes you start to cough. A dark hand pulls the mask away, and you can finally breathe again.

The room is pristine, white, and for a moment, it might be a hospital. A faint beeping on your left echoes against the bleached tiles. There’s machines on either side of you, all blinking like Christmas lights and beeping at intervals. You tense, trying to remember how you’d gotten there, when, and why, but a soft hand on your shoulder grounds you.

“Try to relax,” she says. Her voice is reassuring, soothing, but foreign. “Remember to breathe. You’re safe here, Sergeant Barnes.”

Clenching your hands in the sheets, you try to sit up, but the wires and tubes feeding into your arms don’t let you go far. “Where am I?”

“Wakanda,” the woman says. She’s holding a chart, the pen tucked carefully behind her ear as she looks carefully at you. “Take it slow. You’ve been through a lot-”

“Where’s Bucky?”

The woman smiles, but there’s worry behind her eyes. “He’s here. I’ll send for him.”

The steady beep of the monitor slows down. Your shoulders relax against the pillow, and you lean your head back to get a good look at the woman. She turns, giving you her profile as she scribbles on the clipboard and makes adjustments on one of the machines. “Who are you?”

“Shuri,” she says, sticking the pen back behind an ear. “You may know my brother.”

“T’Challa. He-” You frown, trying to remember. But it’s so fuzzy, the memories convoluted, and it feels like everything is swirling down a drain. “He was there. In Siberia.”

“You took a nasty fall,” Shuri says, her eyes trailing over you. You shiver. The room is still cold, despite the blanket pulled up to your armpits. The numbness still shoots through your whole body, leaving that tingly, asleep feeling on your skin. It’s only in the silence that you realize how numb your body is. 

“Zemo started to go over. So I grabbed onto him. And then he pulled me over the side.”

Your eyes locked on the pale sheet covering you. It wasn’t as white as the snow in Siberia, but it was just as cold. You frowned, the image of the cliff clear in your mind. Zemo, pulling you down with him. Letting go of each other. Something stopped him from falling after you, stopped him from plunging into the trees and rock below. 

But you didn’t stop. You kept falling, and not even the branches of towering trees could catch you.

“I… Hit a tree.”

The blue sky of your vision had turned to green, then to red when your head slammed into a branch of a towering tree. You tried to curse, to shout, to scream. But all the air was forced from your lungs as your back hit another branch. You toppled through the branches, unable to grasp onto something to slow or stop yourself. Twigs snapped at your skin, tearing at your face and arms. It was an unending crash, your body seeming to fall in slow motion and fast forward all at once.

Then you could see the rocks at the bottom.

The sickening sound of a sharp, twisted branch piercing your right thigh filled your ears. The wood jutting through the top of your leg, ripping flesh and snapping bones echoing in your ears. And then there was pain.

You kept falling. Black, wet fabric clung to a branch overhead as you slammed into the rocks below.

A door opens, footsteps hurriedly making their way to the bed, and you jump when a hand slips between your fingers. Bucky sinks to his knee by the bed, his fingers lacing with yours.

“You’re awake,” he breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. It’s clammy, cold, and your grip on his hand tightens. “You’re okay.”

“Practically brand new,” Shuri assures him. “We’ll need to keep her here a day or two, just to make sure the tech is up to snuff. Then she’ll be free to go.”

“Can someone-” your voice hurts, but not as much as the dull throb in the back of your head. “What do you mean, practically brand new?”

Bucky’s face softens. There’s stubble on his cheeks, overgrown, and days of worry are piled in the bags under his eyes. “You almost died, Y/N.”

“Technically, you did,” Shuri interjects, folding her hands in front of her. “You were in cardiac arrest when you arrived, you were clinically dead for about two minutes during the procedure- When they brought you in you were pretty much spare parts.”

Bucky shot Shuri a look. She shrugged, mumbling a half-hearted apology. You frowned, looking at your lap where Bucky’s hand was tangled with your own. “Procedure?”

Shuri cleared her throat. “You want to tell her or should I?”

Bucky hung his head, strands of hair falling in his face. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just studied the hand that was gripping his. “You have to understand,” he kept his voice low, barely a whisper to be shared with you and you alone. “We didn’t have a lot of time.”

“Bucky,” your lips tingled as you spoke. “Just say it.”

His chest constricted with a long, deep breath. He held up his metal hand, the light gleaming off the dark, smooth surface, and his fingers contracted as he touched the side of your face. The metal was cool, comforting, and you leaned into it without a second thought. “There wasn’t much of you left,” he says. “So we- Shuri- had to…. Remake you.”

“Most of you,” Shuri says, fumbling with the clipboard in an effort to keep her eyes downturned, as not to pry on you and Bucky. “Just as HYDRA did with his arm, we did with you.”

Your hands tightened, the one holding Bucky’s beginning to sweat. “I don’t- I don’t understand.”

Bucky and Shuri exchanged glances, the latter nodding. She pushed a few buttons on a monitor beside her, and the screen jumped to life. Several x-rays filled it, all glowing and blue. Some showed a ribcage, but instead of ribs there was metal- others showed hands and elbows. On one, an entire leg was cast of vibranium.

“It is a lot to take in-”

Shuri hadn’t gotten the words out before you ripped the sheet away, letting it fall absently over the side of the bed. Bucky’s hand squeezed you back, his breath hitched.

There were almost no signs of damage to most of your torso. Scars, already healing, littered the left side of your ribs. A neatly sewed line over your left knee, a long, pink half-moon on top of your foot.

The right leg- it was black, smooth. Metal. And incomplete- structured like bone, as though this were what you would see without the flesh and muscle around it.

Your hand let go of Bucky and you reached down, ignoring the pull of tubes protesting. The metal was smooth under your fingertips. Familiar. “I don’t understand.”

Bucky was saying your name, but it sounded like water in your ears. But the voice of Arnim Zola, seventy some years faraway, echoed proudly.

 “I can’t wait to see rather you grow back a new arm….”

“I- I’ve been shot,” you mumbled, patting your stomach, the burning feeling of a bullet still fresh in your mind. “Four times. I’ve been shot four times. It always- they always healed-”

“In time, your body will heal over the vibranium and replacements, which is why your leg is, essentially, a skeleton. Something for your body to grow around.” Shuri sat at the end of the bed, putting a hand on the metal ankle. You felt it- like a phantom limb- and nearly jerked away from her touch. “The parts that were most crucial- organs, some tissue. We replaced those because we could not wait for your body to heal them. Your body healed the less crucial parts on it’s own, and will continue to do so around your leg, given time.”

The heart monitor gradually begins to slow as you grip Bucky’s hand, ignoring the pain of clenching your fist so tightly. “So, what you’re saying-” a deep breath, your eyes shut so tight that lights pop in your vision, “I’m, what, like- a cyborg?”

Shuri smiles, shrugging one shoulder. “More or less.”

The wave of adrenaline has started to recede like a tide, pulling back and leaving you exhausted. You slump back against the bed, still grasping Bucky’s hand, concentrating on the way his fingers feel between yours. Even with Shuri’s words bombarding your every emotion, one stands out among the rest. Relief.

You’re alive. Bucky is alive. And for now, you’re safe.

TagList Open.

@sallyp-53​ @yknott81​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @ipaintmelodies​ @lostinspace33​ @nuvoleincielo​

[aimforthedogstar]

‘You should’ve died, died rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you...”

It all happened so fast.

Hours later, if anyone would’ve asked how it happened, no one would have been able to recall the exact order of events.

All they would remember is the noise drumming loudly in their ears, the trembling panic, ever encroaching hopelessness and the vague sense of dread.

But they would also say it shouldn’t have gone this way, it was supposed to be a simple recon, with backup, if, and they all highly doubted it, if something were to go awry.

But it did, so awfully. It could have been told that the significance of this particular mess was blown up because one of their own had come so close under the knife.

Remus, Lily, Marlene, Peter and Sirius were assigned a simple mission by Alastor Moody. The primaries who were in charge were Remus and Lily, the other three following as backup. They were to patrol an area on the outskirts of London, which by all means should have been deserted, but recent signs showed traces of magic in the area and hence their group was assigned to check it out and report back.

But with their luck, or lack thereof, the night they went ahead with it was the night that area saw its largest gathering of Death Eaters.

With the available intel, they had deemed it okay to apparate pretty close to the area, not having any evidence to think otherwise.

But, oh, they were wrong. They were so wrong.

As soon as they apparated, their presence were made known to the gathered Death Eaters. The five of them versus a group close to twenty. They were vastly outmatched and outnumbered. Curses began to fly in their direction so soon, it was only by sheer survival instinct they were able to take immediate cover in the trees.

The only means of escape was to apparate away, but with the rising panic and adrenaline thumping in their veins, apparating wasn’t an immediate option. Splinching themselves or having a Death Eater trace them back to the safe location wasn’t an option either.

It was Sirius, followed by Marlene, who took up the offensive on their side, while the remaining three remained on defensive.

Their one tactic was to fell or reduce the numbers in their immediate vicinity as quickly as possible so they could escape.

Sirius, whose spells always were more about power than careful precision, cast a variety of fire and blasting cells at the enemies closest to him, setting the surrounding area under controlled fire to mask their positions. Marlene stuck to stunning and binding, but her’s was a skill of precision and she rarely missed. Remus, Peter and Lily were in charged of maintaining shields and providing cover for the other two.

Although Peter, well, Peter wasn’t a bad wizard, he was a fairly good dueller and decent at Charms and Defense spells. But with Peter, it was usually the case that when the unexpected happens, he would get overwhelmed easily and tend to freeze up.

And today, that was their downfall. As they knew none of them would apparate away until making sure the others were safe too. They wouldn’t leave a man or woman behind until they were absolutely certain.

The death eaters picked up on their tactic fairly quickly, the farther ones surrounding them at the sides, enveloping the five wizards into a tiny circle.

And as Peter who was steadfastly focused on his shield around Sirius and himself, didn’t pick up on the Death Eaters closing at his side. Sirius, though, always quick on the uptake did. And Remus saw it happen.

Sirius, immediately upon noticing a wand training on Peter, stood from his previous crouch and jumped right in front of Peter, just as a bluish-black jet of light made its way to them and hit Sirius square in the chest.

A howl filled with pain was ripped from Sirius’ throat and his wand slipped away from his grip as he fell. In the flames still tickling around them, Remus could make out blood staining the grass beneath Sirius. And he felt cold grip his insides, as he jumped forward along with Peter to pull Sirius’ to safety, Peter grabbing his wand on the way.

Remus gripped Sirius tight to him who was now unconscious and shivering and so so pale while Peter bellowed Sirius’ name shaking him, trying to coax him back to consciousness. He didn’t pay heed to what happened next, all he knew was a brilliant light surrounding them, and soon Lily urging them to grab Sirius and apparate out back to secure location three.

And so they did, Remus pulled Sirius flush against his body as he focused hard on the location, his determination to get his love to immediate medical attention, because, damn it, he wasn’t gonna lose Sirius tonight, he wasn’t going lose anyone tonight.

As soon as he apparated, James, Moody and one of the Prewett twins came running out of the safe house. Although they all had their wands out, security procedures were temporarily suspended when they saw Sirius’ limp body, bleeding freely, and trembling so visibly in Remus’ arms.

He could hear shouts, questions of what had happened, what spell, whether he was hurt; so many questions, so much noise but all Remus could focus on was the body in hands that was slowly loosing warmth.

He rushed ahead, into the house and placed Sirius on the table. Madam Pomfrey was already there waiting for them.

How she knew already, he didn’t know, and he didn’t particularly care. All that mattered was Sirius was getting the help he needed. He was still alive.

There was still hope.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it hit Remus that he was in shock and as the adrenaline wore off, he realised just how weary and tired he felt. He was ushered out of the room and he followed allowed it without much of a fight. Sirius would be fine.

In the adjacent room, he stared blankly at the closed door before him for a long while as the din of conversations arose in the room. James and Lily were off in a corner in a tight embrace, Marlene in conversation with Moody and the Prewett twins, but, Peter was stood stock still at the entrance to the house also staring at the door still clutching Sirius’ wand and his own tight in a white knuckles grip. When Remus focused his gaze on Peter, Peter looked away after a few seconds, unable to maintain eye contact and made his way out the main door. Something in Remus compelled him to follow and he did, followed closely by James.

As soon as the three remaining Marauders were out, still within the safe confines of the wards, Peter spoke in a hushed broken voice. “That curse was meant for me. An-and, if Si-Sirius hadn’t jumped, I-I would be the on-one inside fighting fo-for my life.”

Remus hummed in response, true, the curse wasn’t meant for Sirius at all. But, if he knew his lover well, and he did, Sirius’ actions weren’t much of a surprise, he would make the same choice a hundreds times over. He would always jump and take the hits for those he loved.

But Remus could understand Peter’s anguish, Sirius and Peter’s relationship wasn’t as close as his and James or his and Remus’. And Sirius wasn’t the most outgoingly affectionate person, so it wasn’t a surprise Peter felt the way he did until now and it justified his shock at Sirius’ actions tonight towards him.

Defining a relationship with just words and defining a relationship with actions are two very different things. And today, Sirius’ actions made a louder reverberation within Peter than his words ever had in the past 8 years they had known one another.

James must have been thinking along similar lines because he voiced what Remus currently had no strength to.

“Well, it’s Sirius, he’ll die for anyone of us without thinking twice on it. You, me, Remus, Lily, he will, he’d take the curse for anyone of us. That’s who Sirius is.”

Moving forward and gathering Peter in his arms, James added, “But don’t worry, yeah? From what I heard, he’ll be fine. You brought him hear in the nick of time. It saved him. He’ll need time to recover but... he’ll be fine.”

Peter voices his thoughts with astonishment in his tone, “I can’t believe he jumped in front of me.”

Remus quietly added, “Of course he did Pete. He loves you despite his odd way of showing it.”

(I strongly believe Sirius would have died for any of them without a second thought, even Peter, there was time when Sirius loved Peter like a brother. Overlooking that cheapens the brunt of the betrayal that Sirius faced from a friend he once loved dearly)

[creative-type]

Monster of the Salt Rock Hills III

First

Previous

AO3

AN: Expect a longer wait for the next chapter. I’m burning through my buffer pretty quickly, but this one is my favorite and I wanted to hit the meat and potatoes portion of the story before taking a bit of a break. As always, feedback is appreciated

Summary:  The day after stopping a drath summoning gone horribly wrong, Orrig and his team are summoned to the Salt Rock Hills to find and eliminate a monster that has been ravaging the countryside. But things quickly go awry and it soon becomes apparent that nothing about this case is as it seems. Thistle must learn to work together with her new coworkers and overcome her own insecurities to find the truth of the monster of the Salt Rock Hills before it’s too late. Set immediately after Chapter 6: The Knowing Ones

Chapter Three: A Mage Named Mum (and Other Unfortunate Events)

It was rare to meet someone who after making their opinions known did not feel the need to belabor them, but Lyra seemed to be the exception. Thistle was terrified that the elf would bring unwanted attention to her “shyness”, but she made no mention of it at breakfast. Thistle’s heart almost stopped when she noticed Lyra pull Orrig aside for a private word, but their conversation was brief and nothing came of it.

Nevertheless, the silence as they traveled was not as comfortable as it had been the day before. There was an air of cool formality between archer and mage that Thistle did not know how to overcome. It was frustrating to see what little progress she made vanish, always going two steps back for every step forward, but what else did she expect? Lyra was confident and outspoken, with no uncertainty of where she stood in the world. Thistle was none of those things, and never would be.

It did no good to dwell on her own shortcomings no matter how true they were, so Thistle focused instead on the job at hand. The post offered little insight into what they were going up against. Winged horses were notoriously difficult to catch in the wild, and there were only a few domesticated breeds in the known world. There were precious few things that could keep up with, let along kill, a fully grown winged horse.

From what little reading she’d done on the subject, Thistle knew that - like most magical beings - winged horses were smarter than their mundane counterparts, although they lacked the true sapience found in dragons, phoenixes, or unicorns. Herds were small, usually consisting of a stallion, three to four mares, and their offspring. Their feathers, hair, and blood held magical properties that were occasionally used in potions and the crafting of magical items.

Anything capable of killing a winged horse would almost certainly have to be capable of flight itself. Not many predators would take their chances against a horse’s hooves and teeth, not to mention be able to take on a team of trained mercenaries hired to hunt it down.

Perhaps there was more than one monster? Could a pack of beasts be roaming the Salt Rock Hills? Thistle worried her bottom lip, sharp teeth cutting into the tender flesh. The more she thought, the less she liked what they were up against.

The journey was uneventful, and they made it to their destination before noon. The carriages drove into a small town boxed in on two sides by the hills and guarded on a third by a small river. The Salt Rock Hills looked more like mountains to Thistle’s untrained eye, stretching thousands of feet high with peaks obscured by low-hanging clouds. The grey stone was swathed with stripes of green where trees and scrub brush were able to take root.

The Hills overshadowed a tiny settlement, which by Thistle’s estimate was less than one thousand strong. As they entered town she counted three houses that appeared to be abandoned on the high street alone, and several others that were in dire need of new thatch and a fresh coat of paint. They stopped abruptly in front of the town hall, a three story building made of pale red brick and were given a curt order to get out by the driver.

They’re staring at us, Thistle noted immediately as she stepped out of the carriage, cringing a little at the unwanted attention from the townspeople. She gave an unsure nod towards a barber who was standing in the doorway of his shop, razor still in hand. Or are they staring at me?

“Ugh, hicks,” Lyra said with disgust. “You’d think they’d never seen a woman wearing pants before.”

“Um…I don’t think…”

Thistle was cut off as she felt Orrig’s looming presence behind her. “Ve talk to mayor. He one paying, is boss.”

They were saved the trouble of looking. The words were scarcely out of Orrig’s mouth when the doors of the town hall burst open. A dignified man with a sour expression strode out into the street, trailed by a tall, lanky youth of about sixteen years of age.

“Are you the mercenaries?” the older man said, brown mustache twitching with disapproval as he gave them all an appraising glance.

“Yes. My name Orrig, dees my employees.”

“Orrig?” the man asked. “But I thought…well, never mind. I suppose it doesn’t much matter. My name is Everett Stone, mayor of the Salt Rock Hills. I’ve been expecting you.”

He stuck out his hand, and Orrig shook it. The mayor was the stiffest person Thistle had ever met, and he moved like he were carved out of a block of wood. Watery brown eyes scanned the street, taking note of each of the dozen people who were watching them.

“Let’s move inside, shall we? There’s no time to waste. Carson here was just telling me he’s found another one.”

“Another one?” Brent parroted. “How many horses has this thing killed?”

The mayor’s head swiveled, meeting Brent’s look of indignation with cold displeasure. A shiver ran down Thistle’s spine. She’d met dragons with friendlier dispositions.

“It’s impossible for us to search all of the Hills, good sir, but we’ve found three dead in the last fortnight, and five more within the last three months. The beast is escalating, and I fear that it will not content itself with horseflesh for much longer.”

“Do you have any idea what kind of monster it is?” Lyra asked. Mayor Stone paused at the doors of town hall, his back to the adventurers. For a moment Thistle thought she saw his shoulders slump. The hand that held the doorknob trembled.

He’s afraid, Thistle realized.  He’s afraid and trying to hide it.

“Why don’t you come inside,” the mayor said. “We can discuss matters in the privacy of my office.”

“I will need to verify your credentials before we get started.”

Orrig nodded and reached for his pack, while Lyra bit back a groan. Thistle shrank back as the mayor’s piercing gaze turned on the elf. “Is something the matter?”

Thistle wished that Lyra would just be quiet, but knew that wasn’t in her nature. Instead, Thistle turned her attention to the mayor’s simply decorated walls, pretending she were anywhere else but here.

“You’re the one who said there was no time to waste,” Lyra said bluntly. “If the living bean pole’s found another dead horse then we should be investigating it, not sitting here twiddling our thumbs.”

The mayor shook his head“I have to make sure you are who you say you are. It’s standard procedure.”

Carson shifted his feet. Lyra’s unflattering description fit him well, and now that they were closer Thistle could see a few tufts of dark fuzz on his upper lip trying valiantly to pass for a moustache. “The lady has a point, sir.” His voice seemed too quiet for such a big body. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. “We can’t even show ‘em the rest ‘cause scavengers got to ‘em first.”

“It would help if we knew what we were fighting against,” Brent added.

“There are rules…”

“Vhy don’t you tell vhat you know,” Orrig interrupted. “Then ve decide vhat best.”

A flash of indignation flashed across the mayor’s face before he slid heavily into the chair behind his desk. “You might as well sit down,” he said irritably, gesturing to the seats on the other side of the room. There were only four, and Carson was forced to remain standing.

“As I said, this whole business started about four months ago,” Mayor Stone said. He pulled out a map and unrolled it, each movement made with automation-like rigidity. “We didn’t think much of it at first. Most folk haven’t had anything to do with the Hills since the mines closed. They’re prone to rockslides and…well, they’re dangerous. Carson is the only one stupid enough to climb them day after day.”

The boy grinned sheepishly, but didn’t argue.

“The winged horses are attracted to the underground springs found throughout the Hills, the nearest being here, where the last three killings have all occurred,” he said, pointing to the map. Thistle leaned closer and frowned. It was less than two miles away from town. “The springs bring minerals to the surface and create natural salt licks. The winged horses aren’t the only beasts that use them, but their ability to fly means that they can access certain ones more easily than even the most sure-footed goat.”

“I like t’ watch the horses,” Carson explained. “I was nearly scar’t t’ death when I saw the first one dead. Ain’t never seen anything able to catch a winged horse afore.”

“I was first notified of the deaths two months ago. One dead horse is an anomaly, two is a coincidence, but three signifies a pattern.” The lines in Mayor Stone’s face deepened. “I never personally investigated any of the killings, but the reports I received suggested an unusual amount of violence, even for a wild animal. A meeting was called, and the town voted to bring in someone to take care of the problem. A price point was agreed upon, and with the monies raised a mercenary by the name of Marco Rosso was hired.”

“Never heard of him,” Brent said.

“Nor will you. After several days of investigation and two more deaths it became apparent that the attacks occurred during the night. He and his team decided to watch the salt lick where most of the horses had been found,” he pointed to a spot higher up in the hills, near the entrance to the abandoned mine. “When the sun rose again he was dead.” The mayor looked up at Orrig. “The corpse of the beast wasn’t found, but all indications were that Rosso had dealt a mortal blow before succumbing to his wounds. For more than a month things were quiet, but now, in the last fourteen days…” His voice trailed off into nothingness.

Nothing more needed to be said. Orrig’s face took on a pensive look, eyes hidden under the shadow of his horns. “If attacks only at night, ve should go and see dead horse. Sooner is better. You no know vhat kind of monster doing killing, ya?”

“Not in the slightest,” the mayor said.

Orrig nodded decisively. “Then settled. Boy vill take employees to dead horse vhile I do papervork, see vhat they can find. I join vhen finished. Vill return to town before dark vit report. Is goot plan.”

The orc’s steady confidence seemed to sooth Mayor Stone’s frazzled nerves. “If you think that’s best. So long as everything is made official I have no objections. My people don’t have much money to give, and this is the second time we’re paying for the same job.”

This seemed to take Orrig aback, though Thistle didn’t think she would have noticed his surprise if she weren’t sitting right next to him. “Hmm. Ve vill finish job, or no pay. I give my vord.” He gave Lyra, Brent, and Thistle each a look in turn. “Go vit boy. No fighting. I vill follow soon.”

“Carson, if you would,” Mayor Stone said.

“Yessir.” He waited for the rest of the group to stand before leading Thistle, Brent, and Lyra out of town hall and into the street. “Give me a minute.”

Carson jogged over to the barber shop door and called to the man Thistle had seen earlier. “Hey Horace, tell my Pa that I’m gonna be late to work tonight. Gotta show the mercs th’ horses.”

The exchange took less than a minute, but Brent and Lyra were already growing impatient. As Carson led them out of town Thistle took it upon herself to ask, “You work?”

“My Pa owns the tavern up the street,” he said, jerking his thumb behind him. “He wants me t’ take it over someday, so I gotta go in and learn the ropes.”

Lyra’s ears perked at the mention of a tavern, and her expression was suddenly much more charitable. Brent rolled his eyes and said, “Do you know anything about what’s attacking these horses?”

“No more ‘n what the mayor said. I didn’t usually stumble over em fresh, you know? Thought they’d just died natural and some scavenger got to ‘em first.” He let out a heavy sigh. “You’ll see when we git there.”

“And you were always the one who found them?” Lyra asked.

“The ones up in the Hills, yeah. Got a buddy who found the first one by th’ spring. He didn’t want t’ admit it at first, ‘cause he’d gone out to go skinny dipping.” Carson stopped abruptly in the middle of the path.

“What is it?” Lyra demanded.

The boy brought a finger to his lips for quiet. “Look out yonder.”

Thistle followed Carson’s gaze and couldn’t stop a small gasp. About a quarter mile away where the valley met the base of the Hills was a mare standing over a young foal. Their dappled grey coat and wings were almost the same color of the surrounding countryside. The mare took a step forward as she grazed contentedly, and her wings shimmered with the movement as if they were made out of graphite.

“Y’all ain’t never seen a winged horse before, have ya?”

“They’re hideous,” Lyra said.

Brent nodded in agreement. The horses were smaller and more portly than most equines, with short, bristled manes that stood straight up. In fact, they looked more like winged donkeys than horses, though Thistle never would have said so aloud. Instead of being offended by Lyra’s statement, Carson only chuckled.

“Tha’s what most people say, but I love watchin’ them, ‘specially when they’re flyin’.”

He started down the path again, and Thistle had to hurry to match his long strides. They followed the stream for nearly two miles, and by the end of it Thistle was fighting a stitch in her side. The vegetation thinned the further down the path they went. At first it was hardly noticeable, but once they were nearer their destination it was easy to see where great swaths of dirt had been scraped away, revealing the stone that lay beneath. What trees managed to take hold had their roots exposed open air after years of erosion. The path the group walked was one of many coming from all directions. Some were wide enough for two men to walk abreast while others were narrow bands of packed earth, but all were packed flat from a thousand footsteps and led to the heart of the springs.

“It’s th’ lick,” Carson said without prompting. “Just ‘bout everything that lives in th’ Hills come down for the minerals th’ springs bring to the surface. They dig up the ground t’ get it.”

“There’s nothing here now,” Brent said under his breath. “Gives me the heeby-jeebies.”

Lyra chuckled. “You scared?”

Thistle found herself agreeing with Brent. The spring was silent save for the bubbling water and their own footsteps. She noticed for the first time that there were no birds chirping insects buzzing or any other noise that she’d long learned to associate with wild places.

“An’ here we are,” Carson said quietly. “Now if you ‘scuse me, I’m gonna step back for a bit afore I get sick.”

Thistle couldn’t blame him. Before she even saw it the stench almost made her gag. Tucked behind a large boulder, just out of sight from the main path, were the remains of a winged horse. Blood pooled under the carcass, bloated and rotting in the midday sun. Thistle noticed immediately that the poor beast’s wings had been torn off and were nowhere to be seen.

Lyra paused and took a deep, steadying breath. “Well, time to earn our money.”

Brent nodded, and Thistle had to force herself to take a closer look. The horse’s throat had been slashed all the way to the bone. Another deep laceration stretched from sternum to groin, like it had been attacked by the world’s largest dissection scalpel. Either wound would have been fatal, but here were more crisscrossed along its back and hindquarters, over a dozen in total. Some were shallow, hardly more than scratches against the horse’s tough hide. Others pierced through thick belts of muscle and bone.

“Doesn’t look like it put up too much of a struggle,” Lyra said thoughtfully. She walked a slow circle around the dead horse. “I’m not seeing any sign of an attacker.”

“Where’d the wings go?” Brent asked.

“They’re gone?” Carson called from where he was standing. He sounded surprised.

“Where they here earlier?”

“I…I dunno,” Carson said. “I didn’t get a good look. When I saw him lying there earlier I bolted.”

“Her,” Thistle corrected softly. “It’s a female.” She took a few tentative steps forward, careful to avoid the worst of the blood, and pulled back the horse’s lips. They were worn and yellow. “And old,” she added, pulling her hand away as quickly as she could.

“An old horse isn’t going to be able to fight back,” Brent said. “A lot of predators go after weak prey.”

“Whatever it was, I bet they had claws,” Lyra said. “It looks like it’s been butchered.”

Thistle was examining the wounds on the horse’s back. As Lyra said, they were deep and clean. Almost too clean. Surely there should have been more blood coming from them? She was about ready to voice he observation to the others when a dark shadow passed overhead.

“What the…?” Brent’s curse was cut short as he looked up. His jaw dropped with an almost audible thud.

The dark shadow swooped over them again, closer this time, and Thistle grabbed her hood as a stiff breeze threatened to blow it off. She heard Brent draw his sword, and then the harsh cadence of Orcish.

Lyra whistled softly. “Now there’s a #^$&!@ winged horse.”

Thistle raised her head and gasped. Not fifteen feet away a large stallion stood, pawing impatiently at the ground. Its mane and coat were a dull red, and its wings glittered like copper in the sun. On its back sat a scrawny orc, who almost seemed too small to be seated on such a huge creature.

“Who the &*!! are you?” Brent demanded.

The orc slid off the horse’s back and landed nimbly on the ground. He was only a few inches taller than Thistle and extremely thin for his race, though his skin was the dark green of a pureblood. He addressed Brent in the same irate tone, again in Orcish.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Brent said. “You’re going too fast. I have no idea what you’re saying.”

“Brent speaks Orcish?” Thistle whispered to Lyra.

“A little,” she answered. She didn’t take her eyes off this new intruder, her bow ready in hand. “Hey Bean Pole, do you have any idea who this chump is?”

Thistle had almost forgotten Carson entirely. A quick glance told her that he was just as befuddled as the rest of them. “No, ma’am. Ain’t got no orcs ‘round these parts.”

The orc let out a frustrated growl that made him look strangely petulant. Thistle guessed he was younger than Brent. “You no belong here,” he said, enunciating each word carefully to compensate for his heavy accent. “Not your job.”

“Like &*!! it’s not!” Brent snapped. “I don’t know who you are, but we’ve been hired by the city to find out what’s killing these horses.”

The stallion tossed his head, his ears pinned back flat. Thistle didn’t know if the smell of blood was bothering it or Brent’s tone, but she wasn’t about to take any risks. “Maybe we should—“

She was cut off by a resounding crack and a blinding flash of light. Thistle’s skin tingled with the outpouring of magical energy. The winged horse let out a shrill whinny and reared up on its hind legs. The young orc ducked around hooves the size of dinner plates to grab the beast’s reigns, and when the dust cleared there was an elf and a human standing in the clearing.

“What the ever-loving %&#* is going on?” Lyra demanded, her bow raised. “Identify yourselves!”

“Watch your tone, girl,” the elf said. He was an attractive man, tall and broad-shouldered with hair the color of corn silk, but a sneer twisted his handsome features into something hateful and mean. He wore leather armor with a house crest stamped over the chest and metal bracers on each wrist. Twin knives hung from his belt, not yet drawn from their sheaths. “You address Rhys Taliesen of the mercenary guild. Now lower your weapons before I report you for interfering with my hunt.”

“Your hunt?” Lyra said incredulously even as she lowered her bow. “Orrig was hired for this job. We’re his subcontractors.”

Carson stepped forward, his hands raised in goodwill. “Er, the lady’s right. Their boss is with the mayor now figurin’ out paperwork.”

“And who might you be?” Rhys asked, turning piercing green eyes on Carson. “The local color?”

“For your information, he’s our guide and consultant for this case,” Lyra said. “So you can go suck an egg.”

The third member of their party laughed silently behind a hand. He was the most unassuming of them all, a human of average height and build. He had a round, pleasant face that wore an expression child-like innocence – an expression that was magnified a hundredfold by the widest, bluest eyes Thistle had ever seen.

He was also the one to cast the difficult, energy-intensive Teleportation spell. The air was so thick with residual magic that Thistle could almost taste it, with the mage at its center.

Rhys shot him an ugly glare, before forcing a look of nonchalance. “I should have known better than to expect civilized conversation with an ouvrière.”

The significance of the word was lost on Thistle, but clearly it struck a nerve. The color left Lyra’s face, and she stiffened as if she’d been slapped. Tense seconds passed, and Thistle waited for her to shout or storm off or to let the temper get the better of her. But for the first time since they’d met Lyra was speechless.

“As I was saying,” Rhys continued, his lips curling into a victorious smirk, “this is our hunt. There was an administrative error, and the request was sent to your leader instead of to me. My team works out of Crossroads, and if we had made it two days ago as we ought this would not have happened.”

The elf gestured vaguely to the mutilated horse before turning his attention to Carson. “I apologize for my tone,” he said, bowing slightly, “but correcting this error has been most vexing. I would be much obliged for your cooperation going forward.”

Carson looked from Rhys to Lyra and back again. “Uh…”

“Hold on!” Brent interrupted. He stepped in front of Lyra, as if shielding her. “You can’t just waltz out here and tell us what to do. We answer to Orrig, so why don’t you get off your high horse and wait for him to get here.”

While he spoke, Thistle inched closer to Lyra. She wanted to say something to comfort her, but she didn’t know what to say that would help.

“Poor choice of metaphor, half-breed” Rhys said. Sharp eyes assessed Brent from head to toe, his gaze lingering on his scuffed, well-worn armor. “I’ll say it once more to get it through your thick skull: You have no right to be here. Mum, the requisition please.”

Lyra was trembling, but it wasn’t with fear. Her face was contorted in barely-suppressed fury that somehow went beyond her normal outbursts of temper. Every muscle was coiled tight, like a panther waiting to strike, and she had a white-knuckled grip on her bow. A cold sweat broke on Thistle’s forehead when she realized that Brent wasn’t protecting Lyra from Rhys, but Rhys from Lyra.

She didn’t know what would happen if Lyra attacked a sanctioned member of the mercenary guild, and she got the feeling that she didn’t want to find out.

With a snap of the fingers, the mage Conjured a piece of paper that Rhys snatched out of thin air. Even at a distance Thistle could make out the guild’s insignia stamped at the bottom of the page. “Now if you would please exit the premises, my team has quite a bit of work to do before dusk.”

“Lemme see that,” Brent said, stomping over to Rhys’s group.

The air crackled with power. Thistle’s head snapped up in alarm. “Brent, wait!”

It was too late. Rhys crossed his arms in front of him as Brent approached. Runes etched in the bottom of his bracers glowed red. There was another thunderous crack, and Brent was thrown backward, nearly landing in the dead horse’s blood.

The noise spooked the crimson horse, and the young orc was once again preoccupied with keeping his stallion under control. He shouted something in Orcish that was ignored. The mage only looked amused. He stood unaffected by the force field, his hands in his pockets.

Lyra let out a string of curses so foul that Thistle was embarrassed for her. She threw her bow aside and coiled to leap at Rhys, pushing Thistle away when she tried to stop her. Thistle stumbled into Carson and nearly fell over while Brent rubbed his forehead.

“That was ^$&*@#& uncalled for!” Lyra shouted. “He wasn’t going to attack you, you *&@#*(@ but you better believe I &$^#@+& will!”

“Lyra, stop!” Thistle said desperately. She disentangled herself from Carson and planted herself in front of the enraged elf. Her heart pounded in her chest when Lyra glared at her murderously, and she wanted to melt into a puddle under the sheer intensity of her rage. It seemed like a tossup whether Lyra would bull through Thistle and attack Rhys or not, but if there was even the tiniest chance of getting her to stand down then Thistle owed it to her to try.

“Fighting isn’t going to solve anything,” Thistle said, her voice trembling only a little. “I-I know he’s a jerk, but we are on a job. Orrig told us not to fight, and I know he meant you and Brent but I think this fits under the same general principle. He’ll met us out here once he gets things figured out with the mayor. We’ll sort through everything then.”

Thistle knew she was rambling, but Lyra didn’t move so she must have been doing something right. She made herself to look Lyra in the eye. There was anger there, yes, but Thistle thought she saw hurt as well. There was something familiar in that. Lowering her voice so only Lyra could hear, she said, “Don’t let him win.”

“I would listen to the girl,” Rhys said, a dangerous note of warning in his voice. His arms were still crossed, and a pale red force field formed a protective bubble around his body. Even if she wanted to, there was no way for Lyra to land a hit.

Lyra ground her teeth even as the fight left her body. “Fine. But I &$^#@#&+ swear that I see his punk @** when I’m off the clock…”

Finally assured that Lyra wasn’t going to do anything foolish, Thistle ignored the profanity filled, anatomically impossible tirade that followed and rushed over to Brent. He was still rubbing his head, and she could already see a bump forming just below his hairline. A tremendous amount of energy had to be stored in those bracers to throw someone of Brent’s size like that. The spell was similar to the one she had used against the Greater Drath, with an added explosive component that added offense with defense.

That was a lot of spellwork for steel to hold. More likely than not there was a gemstone in the bracers to store the extra energy until it needed to be released. Even if it was only a semi-precious stone the cost of crafting alone would have been at least thirty gold. If Rhys had that much money to waste on magical bracers then there was a good chance that his daggers were enchanted as well.

“Are you okay?” Thistle asked quietly.

“Yeah, but what the &#!! is wrong with that guy?! I just wanted to look at his papers!”

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Thistle felt her blood curdle in her veins while Brent scrambled to his feet. Approaching them was Orrig, and he was as angry as Thistle had seen. But he wasn’t the one who spoke. That honor went to the one walking beside him, a human woman that Thistle guessed was in her mid-thirties, with grey streaking her black hair and a sharp, almost haggard look to her features. She walked with a pronounced limp, and leaned heavily on a dark wooden cane with each step.

Rhys lowered his arms, and the force field flickered out of existence. “I am trying to investigate what is killing the winged horses of the Salt Rock Hills. I take it you’re Orrig?” he asked, ignoring the woman entirely. “Remove your employees immediately and I won’t report you to the guild for interfering with a sanctioned hunt. Or better yet, fire them. I could find better in a gutter.”

Orrig’s expression never changed, but it was as if the temperature dropped twenty degrees. Either Rhys didn’t notice or he didn’t care. He lifted his head haughtily. “And I think an apology is in order. Your mutt as good as attacked me, and the elf would have had the hooded one not voiced sense.”

Though she wasn’t the one being insulted, Thistle couldn’t help but wince. Brent bristled indignantly, and if not for Orrig’s holding her back Thistle thought Lyra would have launched herself at Rhys, regardless of consequence. The seconds stretched out painfully as Orrig gauged the situation. Finally he nodded.

“I agree.” Orrig turned to the woman with the cane. “I very sorry. Vill leave immediately. Ve not here to stir up problem.”

“No offence taken,” the woman said faintly. Her gaze was fixated on the dead horse, and she had gone very white.

“Hmm. Brent, Lyra, Thistle, ve go now.”

There was another pause when no one seemed quite sure what they were supposed to do next. Rhys’s mage was the first to realize that the elf was not going to get his apology, and his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. A pink blush dusted across Rhys’s cheekbones, and his fists clenched. It was through gritted teeth that he said to the woman, “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of an introduction. My name is Rhys Taliesen, licensed mercenary. These are my subcontractors, Mum and Rizaek.”

“What the ^$&# kind of name is Mum?” Lyra muttered sullenly.

She didn’t mutter quietly enough. Orrig shot her a sharp, disapproving look, and Thistle was sure only the presence of outsiders stayed his tongue. Worse yet, a smug, supercilious smile spread across Rhys’s face.

“I personally think it’s perfectly fitting for a mute, not that it’s any of your business.” He turned again to the woman who had arrived with Orrig. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I am the one who was hired to hunt the beast that’s been terrorizing your countryside.”

Through the exchange the woman’s lips had pursed into an almost invisible line, and her slate-grey eyes were as hard and cold as ice. Thistle could sense a power in her, much fainter than what radiated from Mum, and was certain that she was also a mage. “It’s not my countryside. My name is Isla Clark, and I worked under Marco Russo. I’m here to help you find the monster that killed him.”

[coolseanobuseng]

New Post has been published on https://legitlover.com/does-he-need-space-or-is-it-over-heres-the-truth/

Does He Need Space Or Is It Over? Here's The Truth

The right question to ask yourself, does he need space or is it over, ok here’s the truth.

What to do if your Boyfriend Wants Space

It’s common to require some time on your own throughout the course of your relationship. Whether you’ve been together for five months or five years, investing a great deal of time with anyone can get intense. Not to mention when you’re living out of each other’s pockets.

If you observe your Boyfriend pulling away for a little time to himself, it’s essential not to get upset. And recognize that it’s regular to want a little bit of time alone occasionally – no matter how much you love spending time with somebody.

Additionally, you require to attempt your best not to get clingy and emotional when he chooses he wants some space. As this will only make him Pull Away from you further and lead you to feel even more upset about the circumstance.

Instead, prepare some mate dates with your girls. Throw yourself into your work, or invest an additional little time in the gym to keep yourself busy and prevent missing your other half too much. In addition, it might be for the best to let him do all the chasing throughout this time. Allowing him to reach out to you when he wants to, and not if he doesn’t.

Don’t mistake this for playing games with him. Letting him be the first one to text or call you will make him feel more at ease about the circumstance and recognize that you’re pleased for him to have as much space as he requires, whenever he wants. Playing it cool during times when he wishes to be alone will just ever operate in your favour. And make him realize just how much he misses you, meaning he’ll run back to you in no time at all.

So if you’ve come to the conclusion that the guy you’ve been dating – or long-term sweetheart – is feeling a bit smothered and simply wants a bit of time for himself to go out with his good friends, see his family, or just focus on work, then you can feel confident that your relationship will survive and he simply needs a bit of time. So asking yourself this question, does he need space or is it over, should be the only thing in your mind, continue reading the truth.

If he’s been super-quiet with you, totally pulled away from you and has actually stopped planning dates – or even trying to see you – then you ought to let your gut impulse tell you that there’s something awry with your relationship. That’s not to say it won’t be salvageable, but if you have a feeling your sweetheart might be about to end things with you, then you must try and have a conversation with him to learn what’s going on.

However, when you approach him, you need to keep in mind that snapping or upset with him might just make him pull away even more, and make his choice final – especially if he’s not one for drama. Instead, approach him in a fully grown, sensible way and attempt to have a calm, rational discussion about the scenario.

Even if things do end in between the two of you, by keeping your cool and being fully grown about the scenario, ideally the two of you can end on great terms and not have any bad blood between you. Breaking up with someone you like is never simple. But your relationship ending with shouting, tears and anger will make things so much worse.

When a guy says he needs space, how long is that?

Here’s the truth to does he need space or is it over?

How long should I give him space, you ask yourself. Minute he says that tiny, yet effective sentence, it’s simple to seem like all the power remains in his hands. You feel hurt and confused that he requires time away from you. However, even worse than that, if you’re apart from each other there’s nothing you can truly do to work on the relationship.

Since he’s the one who asked for space, it’s simple to fall under the trap of believing he’s a prize that you won, and now you’re going to lose it. The more you scramble for ideas to keep him there, agonize over what you did wrong and let paranoia cut loose, the more he gets the upper hand in your mind.

Put a gigantic red stop sign in front of your thoughts. And keep in mind the other side of the coin. You’re a reward too, just as much as he is. Area goes in both instructions. By asking for space, he’s likewise running the risk of losing you. This could, in fact, be a significant screw up by him, when you carry on with your own life. And discover that you’re simply fine without him in it.

How do you make certain he does not take up indefinite guy cavern home? Well, you can’t truly. However you can set your own stop-watch. The moment he asks for space, think about it like turning on a timer. You’ve concurred in the short-term to put his requirement before yours, however it can’t go on permanently. With this frame of mind, you’ll feel strong. And in control of your own situations and much better equipped to deal with his demand.

Related article – His-secret-obsession-review-2021

The million-dollar question is, for how long do you wait? Let’s delve into a 4-step useful procedure;

1. Don’t Give In To Anxiety

2. Invest In Yourself

3. Let Him Come To You

4. Know When His Time is Up

There’s nothing totally wrong with giving him space to figure out what he wants, good luck to him. Because now you’re equipped with where to start and end. Good luck to you too.

Does He Need Space Or Is It Over? Here’s The Truth. Did this article do any justice to you knowing where you stand now? Please share your comment below.

[spotlightsaga]

Kevin Cage of @spotlightsaga reviews... GLOW (S01E08) Maybe It's All the Disco Airdate: June 23, 2017 Ratings: @netflix Original/Privatized Ratings Score: 9.75/10 TVTime/FB/Twitter/Tumblr/Path: @SpotlightSaga **********SPOILERS BELOW********** I don't like to start reviews or articles at the end of an episode and backtrack... And if we did that here it would start everything on such a dark tone, which would make it extremely hard to recover. One of our biggest priorities is to match what we write in these articles to the emotion that is evoked from the screen. 'GLOW's 'Maybe It's All the Disco' literally bounces through a myriad of emotions, each one felt with an incredible intensity. We just got through the last episode literally fawning over the writing of Rachel Shukert, even nominating her work as a writer for our end of the year Spotlight Saga Awards that we'll be polling across TV Time and other social media outlets (obviously TV Timers' votes will weigh the heaviest 💯)... But here we are again, just one episode later, doing the exact same type of fawning over 'GLOW's 8th episodic entry, not only with Award Worthy writing by Nick Jones, who made our list last year with OITNB S4E07 'People Persons', but also powerhouse, natural director Sian Heder, who literally captures everything that Jones has written and is able to find the perfect way to funnel each emotional bullet-point from scene to scene... Leaving the audience feeling the exact way that Ruth must feel as the credits role. It's brilliant. It's 'GLOW' showing that it's only going to continue to get better & better... And for that, Nick Jones is the first writer to make back to back yearly SS nominations for Achievement in Writing and Sian Heder gets her first Achievement in Direction nom from us, directly after an episode of 'GLOW' that we didn't think could be topped. Tanya Sterling, don't think we've forgotten about you. You're editing here was a marvel. As far as 30-Minute 'dramadies' this year, 'GLOW' and FX's 'Baskets' are taking the cake. Each series has done phenomenal work capturing as much of these characters and their growth, both in life's often tricky timeline and existentially... As well as giving us solid story arcs to sink our teeth into, all in such a short period of time & low number of episodes. See, Big 4 Networks, you don't need 22-25 episodes to make such a monstrous impact! Netflix and FX are literally schooling those fools! The camaraderie of these women is really taking center stage. At first it was like a hodgepodge of diverse misfits, none of which complimented the other in any way. Now, here they are breaking Sheila the She-Wolf (Gayle Rankin) out of her shell by celebrating the birthday that Sheila never wanted to celebrate in the first place. All of this is spearheaded by Jenny aka Fortune Cookie (Ellen Wong), who nabs a huge chunk of the episode's spotlight by taking us through her family's past in Cambodia 🇰🇭, and showing us exactly why she's so desperate to hang on to any part of American Culture that she can, having been deprived of things like birthday parties herself. It all suddenly makes sense, and it was so heartwarming to see just how much Sheila has warmed up to Ruth (Alison Brie), even looking to her for a 'way out' and clutching to her for dear life at the beginning of their amazing scene in the roller rink. Sheila has been so 'stone-faced' and comically dry, that seeing the women ban together and make her feel important, putting a smile on her face, even getting her on roller skates and participating with everyone was one of my favorite scenes of the series so far. Rankin is very close to clinching a piece of my heart forever as Sheila in this series. Obviously, not all is peachy and smiles & skates. Rhonda (Kate Nash) and Sam (Marc Maron) are on the fritz. Sam is embarrassed that their relationship has gone public and in true Sam Sylvia fashion, he treats her like shit after a friendly conversation about Bond films... One that goes a little awry when 'A View to Kill' & the pigeon double take in 'Moonraker' come up. Sam even makes her wait outside so they don't walk in together, even tho all of them are already very much in the know that they are screwing. The cherry on top is when Sam then scolds her for coming in late. He plans on breaking up with her, and goes out venue shopping with Ruth when Bash (Chris Lowell) goes MIA, for reasons only Carmen (Britney Young) knows at the time... Leave it to Cherry Bang (Sydelle Noel) to pull it out of her, though. Should be interesting to see just how she uses this newfound information in the very near future. As Ruth tags along with Sam, while he venue shops with the likes of a space owner played by Brooke Hogan (yes, the infamous daughter of Hulk Hogan and star of the VH1 show that you probably don't remember), Rhonda is doing exactly what her character Brittanica would do... Think things through. This gives her the home court advantage and she breaks up with him upon his return to the hotel. Sam is left stunned & ironically vulnerable as she breaks it off while he's completely nude, dropping the bombshell that she DID actually like him. Upon hearing this news Sam attempts to salvage the relationship, but Rhonda is ahead of him... And she's right. Sam doesn't like Rhonda, not the way she deserves to be liked & loved, anyway. His sudden change of heart is brought on by the terrifying idea of infinite loneliness, so shouting out that he had 'period sex' with her, in an attempt to prove some sort of love or loyalty, simply won't cut it. The great part about seeing all this asshole-ish behavior from Sam through most of the episode? It doesn't last. Sam IS an asshole, don't get me wrong, but that doesn't mean he's a completely unlikable one. One of the biggest 'drama bombs' of the season is dropped when Ruth discovers she's pregnant after literally setting up a chemistry set in her bathroom just to find out, positive or negative. It's a gut-wrenching moment, an impossible one. We've seen Ruth slowly mend things with her former best friend and main event opponent, Debbie (Betty Gilpin)... As we have also seen Debbie patching things up with Mark (Rich Sommer), sort-of anyway, at least making something we could refer to as progress throughout this episode. Imagine destroying all of that and more by adding the extra slap in the face that not only has Ruth slept with Debbie's husband, she's also now carrying his baby. Just as Ruth accompanied Sam on his venue hunt, Sam accompanies Ruth on a mission so distressing & so polarizing among the human race that we can only look at Sam in a different light. Ruth is terrified, but very sure... She's having an abortion. Sam adds some much needed levity to the situation and improvises as Ruth's husband at the abortion clinic. In turn, Ruth faces her traumatic experience and swivels back & gives Sam a 'Zoya The Destroya' line as she heads to the procedural area... "In Soviet Union, abortion is the only thing there is no line for." Her fading smile, sad doe eyes, & nervous laughter provides one of the most poignant & affective scenes in the entire series. She heads back, lays down, assures the doctors, assures herself, and fades into the blue-skied nothingness painted onto a single tile of the clinic's grid, dropped ceiling.

[brooktrout96]

The World is Waiting for you, The Warrior of Light Who Will Light up The Dark Night! Part 1

Chapter 4 of The Deeper The Darkness The More Dazzling The Light Shines! 

AO3 is Here

A few day after class 1-A class election,  it was time for the next Heroic Foundation Class. Aizawa was standing in front of the class at the podium “For the next Foundational Skill of Heroics we’ll be studying today, it was decided you’ll be supervised by a four-man team comprising of me, All Might, a Pro-Hero and someone else.”

“It was decided?” Izuku thought, “Must be a special case then.”

Sero raised his hand as he spoke. “Sensei! What’ll are we doing?”

“Be the hero everyone needs, whether it’s a flood or any other disaster.” Aizawa pulled a small sign out of his utility belt and it  had the word ‘rescue’ on it. “It’s the trial of rescue.”

The class began to mutter. “Trial of rescue. Sounds a bit difficult this time around.”

“Totally!”

“C’mon, dumbass, that’s what a hero’s whole job is! I’m chomping at the bits.”

“If it’s a flood, then that environment’s my specialty. Kero.” Aizawa cut the student’s muttering off

“As I was saying, this time, it’s entirely up to each of you whether or not you wear your costume. Some of your guys’ costumes probably aren’t adapted to the task at hand, after all.” He gestured to where the students costumed were stored. “Training area is fairly far away, so we’ll get there by bus. That’s all. Go get prepared

“The trial of rescue. This is training to reach my dream to become a top hero! I’ll no, me and Zero, we’ll do our best.” Izuku thought to himself as Zero set on his shoulder.

Class 1-A had changed into there costumes except for Izuku as his suit was in tattered due to the battle exercise and was waiting for his newly designed hero suit. He love his mother’s design dearly but it wasn’t really what he needed or wanted

He was walking alongside Uraraka as she realized that he was in his gym clothing. “Hey Deku, how come you’re in your gym clothes?”

Izuku gave her a smile as he explained it to her. “My costume got totally destroyed during the battle training. I requested a different design for it and it’s being handled by the support company. So, I’m waiting for them to finish it .”

Iida voice echoed as he tried to get the class  on the bus in a organized fashion but it didn’t work. Izuku was sitting next to Tsuyu as she turned to look at him

“Hey Midoriya, I always say what I think no matter what’s on my mind.”

“Ah!? Hi!? Asui!”

“I told you before, call me Tsuyu.” She gave him a smile. “You know your Quirk reminds me of All Might’s”

“That s-s-so!?” Izuku let out a frantic laugh. “But mine isn’t like…”

Kirishima interrupted Izuku, “Wait up, Asui, might be right. Their Quirks are very similar.” He let out a sigh. “You know I’m kinda jealous of that kind of simple enhancer-type Quirk. There’s a lot you can do with one so, and it’s flashy too. My ‘hardening’ power isn’t bad  for punch-ups but I hate  that it’s not that flashy.”

“Well.” Izuku said as he went into Quirk Analysis mode. “If you were paired up, we someone say like Bakugou or Ashido. You could block any villains and their attacks coming towards them as they attack from faraway using their Quirk.”

The chatter continued as the arrived at there destination as the class looked at where they were in shock.

“Amazing!”

“Is this the USJ or something!?”

“Flood, wrecks, landslides, fires, etc., this is a practical training area that I created to simulate all kind if accidents and disaster, it name is the Unforeseen Simulation Joint.” The class was greeted by someone wearing an all white space suit and yellow shoes and  a big, round man, easily towering over everyone with a big mouth and small nose.

“It’s the Space Hero Thirteen, and the BMI Hero, Fatgum.”

“Thirteen is the hero who dose phenomenal work helping with disaster relief.” Uraraka said in shock, “Wow! I’ve always liked them.”

The students were chatting among themselves as Aizawa went up to Fatgum and Thirteen. “Hey where’s All Might?”

From what I was told, Aizawa, was that he was out hero-ing while on his’s way up and he used up all his time. Now he’s resting in the nap room.”

“That guy’s the height of irrational.” Aizawa let out a sigh. “The day’s not ruined though. We have a backup plan.” He thought to himself as he spoke to Thirteen and Fatgum. “Oh well. Shall we, we do need to explain things to them.”

Thirteen turned to 1-A. “Before we begin, I’ve got a few thing to go over. I’m certain you’re already quite aware but my Quirk is called ‘Black Hole.’ No matter what material that may get sucked into it’s vortex, I’m afraid it will turned into dust.”

Uraraka was geeking out over Thirteen as Izuku spoke in awe. “Now that’s a Quirk that perfect for removing wreckage and saving people injured by disasters!”

“Yes, it is but it’s a power that could easily be used to kill people and, in that way, it’s no different then from the Quirks of everyone here. Naturally, in this society of superhuman, Quirks are strictly regulate, and the requirements for their lawful use enforced. We can tell at a glance that this is te make-up of this world. That being said, please don’t forget that each of you possesses a Quirk that can go Awry. One wrong step is all it takes to be able to kill others, accidentally.”

“During Aizawa’s physical strength test, you learned of your respective power’s true potentials and in All Might’s test, I think you took away a true sense of the danger of brandishing those powers against one another. This lesson will serve as a fresh start! Let’s get to studying about how to wield our Quirks for the sake of human life, your Quirks emphatically do not exist to hurt others. Please leave this exercise having fully understood that your Quirk exist to help people. That is all! You have my gratitude for listening so intently and patiently.

Thirteen bowed as Iida cheered and Uraraka was in awe. Aizawa was ready to start the lesson as a blackish purple portal appeared in the courtyard as a weird man cover in hands and a 5”4 blond woman wearing a black and red outfit came out of the portal and then a bunched of grunts joined the man as Aizawa and Fatgum yelled at the students

“Huddle together and don’t move!”

“Thirteen, protect the students!”

Kirishima was confused as  Aizawa slid his goggles down his face. “What is going on? Is this like the robots at the entrance exam?”

“Don’t move, they’re actually villains.”

Eraserhead, Thirteen, and Fatgum, according to the teachers’ curriculum we procured. All Might was suppose to be here and yet.” The warp Quirk user spoke as Aizawa and Fatgum were in a protective stance

“I knew it, so it was your guys doing.” Aizawa was ready to protect the kids as Mister Hands began to speak

“Where is he? We went through all this trouble and rustled up so many of us to bring along. You can’t tell me; All Might the symbol of peace isn’t here.”

“Calm yourself, boss.” The blond turned to look at Aizawa and the students with a grin on her face. “I wonder if he’ll show up if we kill the kids? I mean it also get rid of any future heroes that could stand in our way”

“Shit, Izuku that one of the women I’ve been chasing after, she a strong robot that uses electricity.”

“Zero this is bad, what are we to?”  Izuku asked Zero as Zero let out a sigh

“Let Aizawa and Fatgum deal with this, they are pros for a reason.”

“Thirteen, do the evacuation procedure and try calling the school. These villains know how to get around the sensors! There’s a chance that there’s an villain with an electro-wave Quirk who’s causing interference. You too, Kaminari try contacting Yūei with your Quirk.”

“Sensei, are you and Fatgum going to fight them alone?”

“Yes, you see Fatgum is good at containing multiply people, that the reason he’s here. We thought something like this might happen due to some information that we got but we didn’t know when it would happen.” Aizawa looked at Thirteen. “I’m counting on you, Thirteen.”

Aizawa and Fatgum began to fight the villains as they each took on the small-fries that attacked them. The student were trying to make their escape as they were cornered by the warp Quirk user.

“I’m afraid you guys aren’t getting out of this so easily.” The mass of shadow that is the warp Quirk user had them cornered. “Greeting we are are the League of Villains, I apologize for the presumption but we took it upon ourselves to enter Yūei Academy, the base of the heroes. In order to engage with All Might, the ‘symbol of peace,’ we were wondering if we might be allowed the opportunity to extinguish him, you see. Was All Might not meant to be in attendance at this juncture? Perchance has something been altered.” The mass of black smoke that makes up the warp Quirk user shrugged.  “Ah well, setting that aside. This is my role.”

Kirishima and Bakugou punched the warp Quirk user and he exploded in a mass of black smoke.  “Bet you didn’t think we’d be able to do you in before you  got the chance.” Kirishima said with a grin on his face as the the mass of black smoke reformed into a body.

“That was quite perilous. To be expected, though you may be mere students but you are also the hero world’s ‘golden eggs’.”

“It no use, just run!” Thirteen said to the students. “Run you two!”

“You will be scattered.” The quirk of the warp user surrounded the students with black smoke. “And tortured.”

~***~

Aizawa was fighting Mister Hands as Fatgum was fighting Mari. Fatgum was doing well as far as Aizawa as  Aizawa was dodging attacks from Mister Hands as he was losing length of his captured scarf ever time his hand grabbed said scarf.

“23 seconds.”

“You’re the favorite?

“24 seconds.”

“20 seconds.”

“Tch!”

“17 seconds.”

Aizawa tackled Mister Hands as Mister Hands grabbed Aizawa’s elbow and the sleeve of his shirt began to disintegrate. “We keep jumping around  so it’s hard tell but there are moment your hair fall over your eyes. It’s whenever you complete one action and the interval is getting shorter and shorter.”

“Don’t bite off more then you can chew, Eraserhead.”

“My elbow’s broken.” Aizawa thought to himself as pain coursed threw his arm. He pushed Mister Hands away from him as Mari then attack him as he dodged out of the way of her electric attack. Mari has a grin on her face as she continued to attack Aizawa.

“You know, your ally was easy to fight and take down.” Her grin turned into a feral grin. “I noticed something as I watch you fight the boss. That Quirk of yours, it isn’t suited for fighting masses for long periods? Isn’t that far removed from your typical work? Isn’t your specialty short-length sneak attacks? Isn’t that why your ally was here?”

Mari glanced over to where the students and Thirteen were dealing with the small-fries. “So was the reason you jumped into this open battle like this, it’s to give your students some semblance of peace isn’t it?”

“You’re so, so cool you are.” Mister Hands would be grinning if you could see his face “Oh, by the way, hero. I’m not ‘the favorite’ here.”

A large black humanoid monster was standing in front of Aizawa. It has a very muscular body with a lot of scars and it’s brain is exposed;  it’s large eyes are around it’s head and it has a beak-like mouth with a large array of sharp teeth

~***~

Izuku and some of the other student had been separated from the rest of the class by the warp Quirk user, he knew that Zero would be able to help his teacher and Fatgum as he delt with the small fry. “Zero! Do what you need to do as Shin, go help Aizawa-sensei. I’m pretty sure that the villains have no clue about the strength and weakness of the class and that will make it easier for the students make it back to the courtyard.”

“Right, good luck Izuku.”

“Good luck to you, too.”

Shin as Zero appeared near where Aizawa was down alongside Mari, the monster, and Mister Hands. Aizawa was about to be broke into a million piece by the monster as Zero threw his Slugger at Mari and the monster.

“Not so fast, Mari!”

Mari turned as she let out a hiss as she saw the armored . “Ultraman Zero I didn’t think you find out about this plan. So, I’ll ask how.”

“Your friend Yoko wasn’t very subtle at all, asking small time villains if they would like to attack Yūei.”

His Slugger returned to his hands as he got into a fighting stance as Mari charged him and he blocked her attack as Mister Hands went towards him as he sidestepped the two attacks as he caught Mari with the tip of his Slugger as the Mister Hands grabbed his Sluggers before they came back to him and he made his Sluggers turned to dust

I’m glad that the Sluggers that I use in this form are made of light and are remade each time I disappear and reunite with Izuku as not having them because they were turned to dust would be bad.” Zero thought as he dodged another one of Mari’s attacks

“You must be the hidden boss that only appears under a certain set of circumstances.” Mister Hands mumbled as he tried to get his hand around Zero’s neck but Zero wouldn’t let him get close as he summoned the Zero Twin Sword and landed a couple of good attacks on Mister Hands as Mari flung electricity toward him.

Zero went toward Mister Hands  for an attack as Mari then stopped him from getting closer as she had a frown on her face. “Boss, let me handle him, you and Blackie should get out of here in case other heroes make an appearance.”

Mister Hands and the warp Quirk user disappeared into the blackish-purple smoke of the warp Quirk user’s warp gate. Mari and the monster continued to fight Zero as he dodged another one of Mari’s attacks as Aizawa attempted to joined the battle but Zero stopped him

“Aizawa, you got trounced by that monster, Mari, and that hand themed villain. Get to safety and make sure you and your students are alright. I’ll handle this.”

How will you handle this!”  Mari pulled out something Zero had only heard about from Taro and Ginga because they had seen and delt with the original Dark Spark and the original creator of the Chibull Spark.

In Mari’s hand was Chibull Spark and a Spark Doll (in this case a Kaiju Doll). Zero glanced around as he noticed that Izuku, and Tsuyu had appeared in the courtyard from somewhere in the USJ. In his distracted state, the monster sent him flying into the wooded area as it followed them as it seems like Izuku slipped away from the other students and followed him.

Shall we see how you heroes can handle this.” Mari turned to Aizawa and the students that had made it back to the courtyard with a feral grin on her face as she put the tip of Chibull Spark to the Kaiju Doll’s foot.

[chestnutpost]

Before judging 'late-term abortion,' understand what it means, doctors say

With the recent passage of New York’s new Reproductive Health Act and Northam’s voiced support of a measure that would loosen restrictions on abortions later in pregnancy, the phrase “late-term abortion” has appeared in headlines, peppered conversations, fueled social media battles — and now made it into a State of the Union address. But what exactly does this language mean?

CNN spoke with two ob-gyns to explain: Dr. Barbara Levy, vice president of health policy at the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, a professional organization; and Dr. Jennifer Conti, a fellow with the advocacy group Physicians for Reproductive Health and co-host of The V Word podcast.

CNN: What does the phrase “late-term abortion” mean to you?

Dr. Barbara Levy: The phrase “late-term abortion” is medically inaccurate and has no clinical meaning. In science and medicine, it’s essential to use language precisely. In pregnancy, to be “late term” means to be past 41 weeks gestation, or past a patient’s due date. Abortions do not occur in this time period, so the phrase is contradictory.

Dr. Jennifer Conti: In obstetrics, we don’t divide pregnancies into terms. “Late term” is an invention of anti-abortion extremists to confuse, mislead and increase stigma. The appropriate language is “abortions later in pregnancy.”

CNN: When people speak about abortion later in pregnancy, are they referring to abortion in the third trimester or something else?

Levy: Generally, abortion later in pregnancy refers to abortion that happens at 21 weeks or later, so in the second or third trimester.

CNN: How common or uncommon are abortions at this stage of pregnancy?

Conti: According to the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, abortions after 21 weeks make up less than 1.3% of all abortions in the United States. This means that abortions that occur beyond 24 weeks make up less than 1% of all procedures.

CNN: Can you explain why abortions happen later in a pregnancy?

Conti: There are many reasons why women may need to access abortion later in pregnancy, including maternal health endangerment, diagnosis of fetal abnormalities or restrictive laws delaying earlier access to abortion care. Those exceptionally rare cases that happen after 24 weeks are often because a fetus has a condition that cannot be treated and will never be able to survive — regardless of the gestational age or trimester.

It’s this exact reason that it’s nonsensical to legislate these cases: Nobody arrives at the decision to have an abortion after 24 weeks carelessly. Rather, it’s the rare case of rapidly decompensating maternal heart disease or a delayed diagnosis of anencephaly, where the fetus forms without a complete brain or skull, that bring people to these decisions.

Levy: Abortions later in pregnancy typically occur because of two general indications: lethal fetal anomalies or threats to the health of the mother. Some fetal development problems or genetic anomalies do not show up or develop until later in pregnancy. Some examples might include anencephaly (described above) or limb-body wall complex, when the organs develop outside of the body cavity. With conditions like these, the fetus cannot survive out of the uterus.

Likewise, when conditions progress or appear that severely compromise a woman’s health or life, abortion may be the safest, medically indicated procedure. These conditions can also reduce the possibility of fetal survival. They might include premature rupture of membranes (where the fluid surrounding the fetus is lost before labor), uterine infection, preeclampsia, placental abruption and placenta accreta. Women under these circumstances may have extensive blood loss or septic shock that can be fatal.

It’s important to note, if a woman’s health or life is at risk and the fetus is viable, delivery is pursued, not abortion.

In the case of either lethal fetal anomalies or complications that endanger a woman’s life, it’s essential that women and their physicians are able to consider the full range of appropriate treatments, whether that’s abortion care, induction of labor or cesarean birth. Every pregnant woman’s situation and medical condition are different, and there is no way to make a one-size-fits-all determination about the appropriate care.

No matter what, care must be compassionate and recognize that for many women, the choices they are facing are devastating and immensely complicated.

CNN: Can any woman simply choose to have an abortion late in her pregnancy?

Levy: Abortion later in pregnancy is a very complex decision and, often, a very emotional one. We know that women who make the decision to have an abortion do so in a considered, deliberate fashion. This is especially true for women who have abortions later in pregnancy who are often facing devastating fetal diagnoses or life-threatening conditions that may introduce a multitude of clinical considerations into their decision-making.

Moreover, the ob-gyns who provide later in pregnancy abortion care have very specific training both in the technical procedure, as well as ethical decision-making in complex clinical circumstances.

Conti: Federal law is meant to protect the right to abortion up to the point of viability (often thought of as 24 weeks from the last menstrual period), but numerous states have subsequently enacted harmful gestational age limits that are ideologically motivated and not based in science. Your right to an abortion is now absolutely based on the accident of your ZIP code.

If a person needs to end their pregnancy after 24 weeks, there are a limited number of places in the country where they can do that, and the approval process for that procedure is scrupulous.

CNN: Many states that impose gestational age limits for abortion do so with exceptions. Do exceptions do enough to alleviate your concerns?

Levy: The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists opposes undue political interference in the practice of medicine, including legislation that bans abortion at an arbitrary cutoff point. While exceptions are often suggested for gestational age bans, the fact is that it’s impossible to predict every circumstance that might arise in pregnancy.

Additionally, exceptions can also generate significant confusion for health care providers attempting to interpret these laws and practice accordingly, particularly when they face criminal charges if they violate the law, even if accidentally.

It is an exceedingly precarious position between counseling patients on the most appropriate and compassionate care for their health and interpreting vague legal exceptions.

CNN: Are there other reasons access to abortion care concerns you?

Levy: Even in states where arbitrary gestational age restrictions do not exist, barriers to any abortion care are still very common. Many women in the United States live 100 miles or more from the nearest abortion care provider. Even if they are able to access a health care provider, they are likely to face other barriers to abortion care, like medically unnecessary ultrasounds, mandatory 24-hour waiting periods and two in-person trips to a clinic. And of course, for women living in states that ban coverage of abortion care in insurance plans, the procedure — especially if they need to travel, take time off of work and/or secure child care — may be prohibitively expensive. Federal funding for abortion care is also banned, except in extremely limited circumstances

For women who need abortion care in the third trimester, there are very few places across the country where this care is accessible, and it is very rarely covered by insurance. Typically, these procedures would cost in the thousands of dollars. Moreover, many women would have to travel by plane to reach these providers, so in addition to the cost of the care, they are incurring the cost of travel and lodging.

CNN: What do you wish people would think about when discussing this hot-button subject?

Levy: It’s important to remember, whether in a discussion about abortion care or any other component of care, that these are complicated, nuanced circumstances that affect the course of real people’s lives.

Particular to abortion care later in pregnancy, I would urge everyone to exercise more compassion. It’s important to acknowledge that we simply cannot possibly know the circumstances of every pregnancy or the challenge of making decisions when things go terribly awry.

Abortion later in pregnancy is not used as an alternative to delivering healthy women’s full-term, viable pregnancies. Additionally, it’s callous to suggest that healthy women with viable pregnancies at term abruptly change their minds and seek abortion care as the solution.

CNN: What do you think are the biggest misunderstandings about this topic?

Conti: The majority of women having abortions are already mothers and are making the decisions they know to be best for their other children and their families.

One in four women will have an abortion by the time they’re 45, which means that very likely, you know or love someone who has had an abortion. If you’re not privy to them, it’s likely because your outward judgment is isolating those people in your life.

As someone who used to self-identify as anti-choice, I can attest that the biggest misunderstanding about abortion is the framework of hypotheticals vs. reality. All pregnancies carry risks, but some much more than others, and it is the job of the patient to weigh risks and benefits in all medical decisions. Not politicians. Not journalists. Not strangers on Twitter.

Misleading hypotheticals show disregard and contempt for people who have had an abortion later in pregnancy. People who have abortions deserve empathy and understanding, not judgment.

The post Before judging 'late-term abortion,' understand what it means, doctors say appeared first on The Chestnut Post.

from The Chestnut Post https://www.thechestnutpost.com/news/before-judging-039late-term-abortion039-understand-what-it-means-doctors-say/

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What You Need To Know With Regards To Investing.

We’ll Answer Your Pressing Questions Regarding Real Estate Investing Today

Folks everywhere use real estate property investments to make money, but many people have lost quite a lot as well. If you want to be successful in actual estate investing, you ought to follow these tips. Become familiar with information here on how to put money into real-estate.

Receive an knowledge of tax laws and recent changes. Tax laws are updated and amended regularly meaning it depends on you to keep up with them. Sometimes the tax situation over a property can actually up the hassle. Whenever it appears to be progressing to thick to manage, consider a tax advisor.

Location is crucial while searching for a smart investment property. Other elements, like the condition of a property, could be altered. Properties which are in terrible areas will almost always be bad investments. Investigate local communities for property values to acquire a sense of good purchases.

Employ a professional inspector into the future out and see the home you’re thinking of putting your money into. You may think that you could just check out your property by yourself to get problems, but if you’re not trained you may miss a lot of things. When troubles are found, you should make sure to get some funds off the property or hold the owner correct it for you personally.

Never invest an excessive amount of money at first as this could cause a lot of problems in the future. Overextending yourself can result in issues with your savings plans and prevent you from buying great properties in the future. Develop the right budget and stick to it to some tee.

Have multiple exit techniques for a house. A lot of things could affect the value of real-estate, so you’re best having a short-term, mid-term, and long lasting strategy in position. That way you can make a change based off of just how the industry is faring. Having no temporary solution can cost you a ton of money if things go awry quickly.

Don’t believe that you generally be forced to pay a list price for a piece of property. Many of the time an owner will make the cost higher than it ought to be simply because they expect people to try to negotiate along with them. Don’t be frightened to provide them a reduced offer mainly because they might just present you with that cash off.

While you expand your business of property investing, ensure that you expand your network of contacts also. Individuals are often just as vital as properties, mainly because they can provide exclusive investment offers before they become offered to the general public.business cycle An expansive network also provide opportunities in selling that you will not have otherwise known about.

Consult with friends, family or schoolmates that have know-how about this business and pick their brains. This may be a free way to obtain information that can help you to develop the very best strategy for your financial allowance and level of skill. Gaining more knowledge is imperative in this particular business to acquire a good edge.

Have experts assist you to. Before bidding with a property, talk to someone familiar with real-estate. Speak with agents in real estate or the ones that appraise property, for example. Their expertise may help you make better decisions.

For an investor, be very picky regarding the properties you can expect to put money into. Because of this even before you consider making a deal, you make time to thoroughly inspect the home.Being more in the investing safe side, hire a professional inspector to carry out a walk-through and make certain your property is structurally sound.

Investing

Tend not to burnout when you are getting into real estate investing. In the event you experience some success at first, tend not to become obsessive about real estate. When you spend all of your time with this particular business, you can expect to alienate your friends and relations and burnout, which may cost a ton of money.

Keep an accountant on speed dial. You can be mindful of tax laws and current taxation however, there are several variables to keep in mind. A good accountant, that understands and keeps up to date with tax laws, is surely an invaluable asset. Your success with investing can be created or broken through your procedure for taxes.

Invest the instant you can if you would like make real estate something you need to do for a career. You can’t learn about the business until you get going. The longer you wait, you’ll discover youself to be a step behind others.

After groing through the content above, you must be able to know what must be done in relation to succeeding with real-estate investments. It is crucial that you be aware of these proven tips which means you get the most from your hard earned money. Always keep yourself well-informed as much as you are able to by reading a little more about it. Ideally, you will discover a profitable venture

from Willey Pearson Mgrmassociates http://mgrmassociates.com/what-you-need-to-know-with-regards-to-investing/