#someone told me I'd drink myself to death over it

[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . ( a collection of lyric prompts based on various works by florence + the machine . adjust phrasing as necessary , will likely be updated in the future . )

it's always darkest before the dawn .

we will find new saints to be canonized .

holy water cannot help you now .

the horses are coming , so you'd better run .

i never felt so alive and so dead .

i'm damned if i do , i'm damned if i don't .

i've always been in love with you .

what has been done cannot be undone .

i don't care whether i live or die .

we will never be afraid again .

i feel nervous in a way that can't be named .

it was so far a fall , but it didn't hurt at all .

the saints can't help me now .

i want to find you and tear out all of your tenderness .

sooner or later , the things you love , you lose .

run fast for your mother , run fast for your father .

i like to think , at least , things can't get any worse .

i would give all this and heaven too .

i was in the darkness , so darkness i became .

all my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling .

in order to get to the heart of things , sometimes you have to cut through .

i'll be dead before the day is done .

time after time , i think "oh lord , what's the use ?"

the heart is hard to translate , it has a language of its own .

it was all so strange and so surreal .

i'm not here looking for absolution .

now and then , it seems that life is just too much .

be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers .

if you could only see the beast you've made of me .

pretty little face stopped me in my tracks .

i'm aching to attack .

you want a revelation , some kind of resolution .

it's so easy to say it to a crowd , but it's so hard to say it to you aloud .

i don't want your heart , it leaves me cold .

i am no mother , i am no bride , i am king .

she's a cruel mistress , and a bargain must be made .

well , me and my ghosts had a hell of a time .

with all my education i can't seem to command my heart .

it's a conversation i just can't have tonight .

you left me in the dark . no dawn , no day .

jesus christ , it hurts .

a woman is a changeling , always shifting shape .

the very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most .

i'll cut your little heart out 'cause you made me cry .

i knew that somehow , i could find my way back .

a thousand armies couldn't keep me out .

i'm ready to suffer and i'm ready to hope .

you've got the love i need to see me through .

is this how it is ? is this how it's always been ?

you keep me up at night .

oh , tell me it's not over yet .

no walls can keep me protected .

i'm going out , i'm gonna drink myself to death .

time goes quicker between the two of us .

would you leave me if i told you what i'd done ?

now , there's no holding back .

oh god , you're gonna get it .

you need your rotten heart and dazzling pain like diamond rings .

in the dark , i can hear your heartbeat .

i never knew my killer would be coming from within .

i was never as good as i always thought i was , but i knew how to dress it up .

don't forget me when i let the water take me .

this world is a beast of a burden .

you know i still like you the most .

what a thing to admit .

sometimes i think it's getting better , then it gets much worse .

i'm on fire , but i'm trying not to show it .

you are the space in my bed .

would you have it any other way ?

things go wrong , no matter what i do .

you make a fool of death with your beauty .

now she sleeps with one eye open , and that's the price she'll pay .

they were there when i woke up this morning .

heaven help me , i need to make it right .

until i wrap myself inside your arms , i cannot rest .

when someone looks at me with real love , i don't like it very much .

would you leave me if i told you what i've become ?

i'm always running from something .

it's good to be alive , crying into cereal at midnight .

okay , but let's discuss this at the hospital .

i know everybody lets you down , and i'll do the same .

your heart is the only place i can call home .

i wish to remain nameless , and live without shame .

sometimes i feel like saying "lord , i just don't care" .

i would put my words into poetry for you if i knew how .

if they ever let me out , i'm really gonna let it out .

but know , in some way , i'm there with you .

i've been wandering the streets for days .

don't let them get you down , you're the best thing i've ever seen .

how could anything bad ever happen to you ?

you couldn't have it any other way .

it's the only way i can escape .

what a place to come from .

little did you know your home's really only a town you're just a guest in .

run for your children , for your sisters and brothers .

you can't choose what stays and what fades away .

you'll be sorry that you messed with us .

call me when you need me .

although we stick together , it seems we're stranging each other .

this is as good a place to fall as any .

in your place there were a thousand other faces .

here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my rope .

lay me down , let the only sound be the overflow .

there's no salvation for me now .

i'd do anything to make you stay .

what's in a name ? i still remain the same .

i've been taking chances , i've been setting myself up for the fall .

tell me what you want me to say .

you are the silence in between what i thought and what i said .

i've been a fool , and i've been blind .

i never knew daylight could be so violent .

regrets collect like old friends , here to visit for your darkest moments .

so you packed your bags just to wait out the shitstorm ?

my doe , my dear , my darling ...

you're my head , you're my heart .

everyone lets you down in this brief hole of a town .

i'm not giving up , i'm just giving in .

i've been losing sleep , i've been keeping myself awake .

sometimes i feel like throwing my hands up in the air .

the only solution was to stand and fight .

i don't know how it started , don't know how to stop it .

i'm done with my graceless heart .

i can never leave the past behind .

do they speak to you ? 'cause they speak to me too .

i thought that love was a kind of emptiness .

it's hard to dance with a devil on your back .

sometimes i wonder if i should be medicated .

every demon wants his pound of flesh .

tell me what all the sighing's about .

could you tell from the moment we met ?

i heard your voice as clear as day ... you told me i should concentrate .

all my girls have their lace and their crimes .

i like to keep some things to myself .

no one asks any questions here .

the feeling comes so fast and i can't control it .

you came over me like some holy rite .

i was screaming out a language i had no idea existed before .

i thought that love was on stage , giving yourself away to strangers .

leave all your love and your longing behind , you can't carry it with you if you want to survive .

i thought that love was in the drugs , but the more i took the more it took away .

i never wanted anything from you , except everything you had and what's left after that too .

i don't want your future , i don't need your past . one grand moment is all i ask .

[the-kr8tor]

OKAY I JUST WANNA SAY IM NOW BIBLICALLY OBSESSED W COWBOY HOBIE

AND NOW I NEED COWBOY HOBIE DOING THE HAT RULE WITH THE READER THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGTH

This prompt got me giggling and kicking my legs 😍😍😍 thank you, ly ❤️

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Cowboy AU, Western AU, CW drinking, CW suggestive, lovestruck Hobie, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

Watching you attempt to square dance is like watching a chicken run without its head.

Hobie watches you with a smile hidden behind his glass, amber liquid sloshing inside. It's his first glass of the night and he's sure he won't be needing another one when he's already drunk off of you. On any day he would've finished the entire drink in less than a minute or two, but his eyes and lips have been occupied with watching and smiling at your plucky dancing.

The bar is incredibly crowded, smoke from cigars invading his nostrils, music blaring in his ears. And the dance floor is completely full but that doesn't stop you from twirling all over the polished wooden floors; giggling and smiling at your friend who's trying her best to keep you from smacking someone on the face with your wild limbs. Hobie blames all the sugar from the sweet tea you've been consuming.

He places his glass next to your guarded ones, his palm never left the rim of it, determined to keep you safe. Chuckling, you make your way back to him, sweat covering your forehead, breathing heavily from all the dancing. Despite all these, the giddy smile on your lips never left.

“I'm back!” You stop in front of him, all smiles and skin warm. The yellow overhead lights make your eyes sparkle, like a man dying of thirst, he can't help but drink all of you.

“I can see that.” Hobie casually pulls you in by your jean belt loops, knees knocking on his own. “Had fun?” he looks at you through his lashes, eyes crinkling in the corners.

“Mm-hmm!” You nod fervently, he stops your movements with his hand on your jaw before you make yourself dizzy. Your cheeks are incredibly warm. “Thank you for bringing me here, neighbor.”

He chuckles deeply, eyes never leaving yours. “Shit, we're still on those terms after everythin’ we've been through? Do I have to make myself clearer or does velvet need to push us together again?”

“Making the horse do all the work again.” You click your tongue without malice. He has no idea how but he grins wider. Holding to the lapels of his old leather jacket, you lean closer to his touch.

“Dance with me? Please?” You blink your pretty eyes for emphasis.

Hobie cranes his neck closer to your face, breath fanning across your lips. You close your eyes, waiting for the sweetest thing to graze your lips.

“Nah.”

You open your eyes to a smirking Hobie, he takes a sip of his drink, teasing eyes staring at your flustered face.

You scoff, blinking rapidly. “The nerve.”

“I told you I don't dance.”

“Is that so?” With a burst of confidence and adrenaline still coursing through you, your hand flies quickly to his hat, taking it off from his head to place it on your own. “Look at me I'm Hobie Brown and I don't dance. See? That's you. Ridiculous, I know you can dance.”

Hobie closes his eyes for a second before downing his entire drink in one gulp. With an exhale, he squeezes your hips. “You'll be the death of me, love.” he flicks the brim of his hat to see your eyes better. “You have no idea what you've done do you?”

You smile sweetly, leaning closer, taunting him. “What if I do know? What are you gonna do, cowboy?”

For the first time since you've known Hobie, he stutters. “H-home, I'll go home” he clears his throat, composure coming back to his senses. “Maybe you'll join me. Only if you want to.”

“After everything we've been through,” You copy his own words. “do you think I'd say no?”

Hobie smiles, coiling his finger around your belt loops, leading you out of the crowded bar. His hat is still on your head, holding on to his wrist, you let him guide you.

[writtenbyshama]

Long Way Home [Part II]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part II

I started noticing that I got stared at more than usual whenever I came to visit father. Apparently, he had proudly told everyone who came to be treated that his daughter now studied in the House of the Wind and worked for the High Lord himself. I was happy to see him happy, but at the same time embarrassed when I was in the spotlight of attention. 

In my most recent visit, there were only a few patients to take care of, and none to stay the night in the infirmary room. Father cooked a deliciously smelling vegetable soup with mouth watering garlic bread for dinner. We carried the food along with a bottle of homemade wine to the terrace of our building. We did this often, sitting under the magnificent sky of the City of Starlight. It kind of became our ritual after mother died, where after all the eating and drinking, I'd lie down with my head on father's lap like I used to do as a small child, and he narrated stories of her. 

Our family history was a bit strange. My father was a proud, handsome descendant of the Illyrians, but my mother had been a high fae from the Summer Court. I've heard that most of my ancestors' pairing is similar to that. 

Your mother, she had this alluring green eyes, the colour which you see in the depths of a still pond, never letting go once you are pulled into. I can still see how the soft wind caressed her pinkish hair against her skin. He loved to describe her, and repeated over and over again the story of how they met. 

The story of how she died was only told once, and he never repeated it again. When I had been two years old, mother was pregnant with my sister. There was an internal bleeding which didn't stop, and sadly, both mother and child succumbed to it.

According to one of my neighbours, father was completely devastated after her death. He even stopped selling his services for a while. He didn't talk to anyone and sulked alone, which was completely opposite to his usual extrovert nature. I don't remember any of this, though. Even with sadness in his heart, he never forgot that he had a living daughter and my childhood was full of happy memories. 

Well, mostly. 

That night, he was telling me the story of how he used to paint my mother's toenails with colour when she was pregnant and couldn't do it herself—his personal favourite which I listened to every time like I was hearing it for the first time—when a shadow flew across the starry sky and landed in front of us. 

It was Azriel. 

I pushed myself into a sitting position, squinting at the cloth wrapped parcel which he held in both hands. When my father stood up to greet him, he extended it forward. 

"Greetings, sir. The High Lord and Lady send their compliments," he then turned to me. "Hello, y/n."

I nodded while father conveyed his thanks and accepted the parcel. Azriel was about to leave right then, but father insisted on him having dinner before he did so. He hesitated, his gaze dropping at our empty dining plates and wine bottle, but eventually agreed. They went down the stairs into the warmth of the kitchen and I followed. 

Father was already making cheery conversation, and Azriel joined after a while. They knew some mutual fae and some members of the Illyrian clan, and began having an earnest discussion. 

Azriel was ushered to sit while I set the table and father heated up the food. He always made extra portions because someone could unexpectedly stopped by for a chat and had to be welcomed with delicious food every time. While Azriel ate and they talked, I silently listened from a chair nearby. I felt the familiar squeezing ache in my chest as I watched them, because I could tell that Azriel was not humouring my father out of mere politeness and genuinely wanted to converse. He was never like that with me in the few months I've spent in the House. 

I felt prickling behind my eyes, and I excused myself to my room before it turned into tears. Once underneath my warm covers, I let the tears fall and fell into a tired slumber. 

I was jerked back into consciousness when I heard the sound of my bedroom door being opened. My eyes were swollen shut from all the crying and I had to fight to open them a bit and see who came in. 

It was father. He sat on the side of my bed and gently caressed my hair, noticing that I was awake. 

"Azriel left just now. We talked for a long time."

I closed my eyes and sighed, trying very hard not to cry again. "Hmm."

"Has he hurt you?" He asked, his voice low.

I blinked open my eyes in confusion. "Who?"

"Azriel."

I scoffed and shook my head. "I don't even know him that well to be hurt, papa."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's why you cried yourself to sleep, huh?"

I bit the inside of my cheek, not answering. He knew everything anyway.

He stood up and fetched a cold compress for my eyes. I felt fresh tears threatening to spill, and pushed the compress deeper onto my eyelids. 

"Does he have a mate already?"

"No. It doesn't matter. They'll feel the bond towards each other soon, anyway. The High Lady's sister might be the one."

"I see."

He was silent for a while. The swelling eased down and I could open my eyes wider. When the compress wasn't so cold anymore, I put it on the nightstand and wriggled back to a comfortable position. Father gently patted my head in a rhythm to help me sleep. 

"You'll find a deserving mate too, don't worry," he whispered. "A heart has to eventually find its home."

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 3 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

[guizika]

Vampires!

Dean Winchester x Male Reader

Cw - Male reader, you/yours pronouns, fluff, Mention of death, violence, drinking, maybe it’s a bit ooc.

Synopsis - You decide to go to a bar to forget your problems, but unfortunately you end up finding more problems, but you also find a solution.

Word count - +1500

A love disappointment, problems at work and some encouragement from your friend were enough to make you go to a bar. The bar was located in a more secluded part of town, and most people went there at weekends.

You left the house wearing your favorite outfit, a white T-shirt and black pants. When you got to the bar, you ran into your friend, who was already drinking and hitting on the bartender. As you approach, you nudge her shoulder lightly and she lights up when she sees you. "You really came!"

"Of course I did, I'd never miss a chance to drink myself into a stupor." You say jokingly, smiling amusedly. Soon, you sit down next to her and order whisky to drink, chatting about silly things. Some stories have already been told, but they're still funny. You drink and laugh as you reminisce about your teenage years.

"Remember when you and Willian nearly blew up the school laboratory?" She says, laughing out loud as you let out a nasal laugh. "Firstly, that was far from an explosion and, secondly, it was all Willian's fault." You say defending yourself, laughing as you remember that day.

"Hey, do you remember when you flooded the bathroom at school?" Her laughter stops and then she blushes with embarrassment, drawing a genuine laugh from you. "It wasn't my fault, I was unfortunately in the bathroom and then disaster struck." You finish your whisky and then smile sarcastically at her. "Yes, of course, whatever you say."

Before you can order anything else to drink the Bartender hands you a beer, causing you to raise an eyebrow. "Uh, sorry, but I think you gave it to the wrong person, I didn't order a beer." The bartender smiles at you and then points to a man sitting on a bar stool by himself. "That man sent you that drink."

Your gaze goes in the man's direction, analyzing his face, he notices your gaze and smiles seductively at you, then takes a sip of his beer. "Oh my God, you have to go to him now!" Your friend whispers to you excitedly, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Don't worry, I've already found someone I want to stay with tonight." She says as if she knew what you were going to say, making you sigh with relief.

"Wish me luck." You smile and then walk over to the man, clearing your throat to talk to him. "Ah, hello, did you send me the beer?" He nods and then you sit down next to him, your beer in hand. "So, what's your name, handsome?" He smiles and then takes a sip of his beer.

"James Hetfield, but you can call me daddy, and what would your name be, sweetie?" he says, smiling seductively. He says, smiling seductively as you raise an eyebrow and laugh slightly. "Oh yes, you're the lead vocalist of Metallica, I'm John Lennon, nice to meet you."

He laughs, catching your drift. "I'm Dean, now, what's your name?" He takes another sip of his beer as he waits for your answer, after you reply he smiles and then looks around. "Right, well, what do you say we get out of here, sweetie?" His tone comes out suggestive, making you smile and then agree immediately. You finish your beers and then leave the bar kissing, you go to his car and then he takes you to the motel room where he's staying.

"Just don't make too much noise." He says between kisses, making you bite his lower lip and smile seductively, he lays you on the bed and you continue kissing.

…

The next day you open your eyes and see that the man is still asleep, so you get up and put your clothes on. After buttoning up your white T-shirt, you go out and then order a cab on your cell phone.

You see that your friend has sent you a few messages and you laugh, opting to reply when you get home. The cab arrives, you get in the car and say the address, driving home.

...

After two months, a lot of murders began to occur in your town, worrying most of the population. These crimes usually occur at night, so many people stop going out, but that doesn't stop you from going out to cool off.

The bartender looks at you and greets you, smiling and then placing a glass of whisky in front of you, already knowing what you were going to order. You finish your drink and the bartender hands you a Cuba-Libre. "That's the man who told me to give it to you." You look at who the bartender pointed to and notice that the man has pale skin and long black hair, he smiles and then walks over to you. His gaze never leaving your face, looking at you with a mischievous smile.

"Wow, what does someone like you do in this kind of place?" he asks, smiling and looking at you seductively. You take a sip of the drink he's sent you and smile kindly. "Just enjoying life, that's all, how about you?" The man seems to like your answer, looking you in the eye and then taking a sip of his drink. "I'm just enjoying life too."

After talking for a while, you leave the bar, he kisses you and takes you to his car. "Well, you're very handsome, I confess I'm sad to have to kill you." Hearing his words, your eyes widen and you try to push him away, only to be surprised by a blow to the back of the head, knocking you out. You hear other people's voices and then faint.

…

"What the fuck, ouch." You feel a strong pain in your head, probably because of the blow, you try to get up or move your arms but realize you're tied up, becoming more aware of your current state.

"You're finally awake, I thought you'd died from the blow." The barman's voice echoes off the walls of the shed, he turns on the light and your eyes close, opening only when you've gotten used to the brightness. "Where am I?" Your voice comes out hoarse, probably because your throat is dry.

He laughs, the laugh containing malice. "Well, you're in the nest." Your expression shows doubt. "Nest?" The man snorts, then opens his mouth and bares his fangs. "Yes, well, I'm a vampire and this is my nest, there are lots of vampires here." You stay silent, trying to process what he's said.

"Vampires?" You whisper, making him smile. "Yeah, I'd explain it to you, but there's no point because you're going to die soon." His words make you squirm as he approaches, screaming and begging for help even though you know it will be in vain. However, before he gets too close to you, the sound of a door opening can be heard and then he turns around to see two men.

You look too, relieved that someone has arrived, but after looking for a while you realize that one of the men is Dean. "Hey, bloodsucker, how about you come over here and face us?" Dean says and then the vampire charges at them, but he's easily defeated.

"Hey, how are you?" The taller man comes towards you, cutting the ropes that bind you and helping you to your feet. "Well, I almost got killed by a, uh, vampire, I guess, but I'm fine." The man smiles embarrassedly and then introduces himself. "I'm Sam Winchester and that's my brother, Dean." You smile and then introduce yourself.

They get you out of there and then take you to the car, you lean against the car and then cross your arms. Sam leaves you and goes to talk to someone on the phone, leaving you alone. Dean ends up explaining their work to you, causing you to let out a sigh.

"Well, I had no idea that James Hetfield also hunted monsters." You say in a joking tone, smiling in a relaxed way. "But seriously, that was super unexpected, like, I never imagined that these things actually existed." Dean laughs lightly and then lets out a snort, looking away.

"Well, I don't think anyone really wants to imagine that sort of thing." After he says that, you look at each other, until Sam arrives and clears his throat, making you look embarrassed and then look at him.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to Dean." You just smile and shrug, watching the two of them walk away, talking about something you can't hear. After a while they come back and Dean lets out a sigh and looks at you.

"Looks like we have to go, another case has come up." His tone contains dissatisfaction, but he tries to mask it, you let out a sigh and then smile at him. "All right, but when you pass through this town, come and visit me."

Dean brightens up and then takes his cell phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. "I've got a better idea, put in your phone number, so we can, well, keep in touch."

After that you both get in the car, he drops you off at your house and then he drives off, heading for the place of the next case.

Maybe you'll meet again in the future...

Please don't translate or copy my work and don't repost on other social networks, if there are any grammatical errors I ask you to excuse me!

[thehollowwriter]

RWarnings: Injury, swearing, probably full of mistakes. Word count: 5k+

Key: Regular text is for the present. Italics is for flashbacks, bold is for journal entries

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Lamentations Pt 5

There is a term, more of a feeling, really, that humans use called "walking on air." An elated, fluffy feeling of delight.

I can't "walk" since I don't have legs, but that's a perfect way to describe how I felt when Morrigan kissed me that night. When he wrapped his arms around me and looked at me like I was the only thing that ever mattered to him.

I think about that moment a lot, when dusk settles into night and life slows down for a short moment. I think about how different things were all those years ago, how different I was.

Silas stopped writing and stared at the page for a long, long time. He found himself back in that dim, dingy shop, gazing into those bright, loving eyes. Those eyes... so intelligent, yet so innocent at the same time.

What had he done to deserve Morrigan, really? What could he have possibly done, in his life filled with death, to be blessed with such a loving man?

Silas pressed his pen against the paper again so hard he nearly broke the tip.

I'm... I'm not going to sit here and tell myself I'm a good person. I'm not. I have killed and eaten hundreds of my own kind in my lifetime, and I still do so today.

I have torn them apart and swallowed every piece until there is nothing but bone to indicate their existence. I've lied, cheated, and stolen whatever I possibly could to keep myself alive.

I am a murderer. A cannibal. A monster.

What is the worst Morrigan has done? Land some kids in the hospital as a teenager and nearly get expelled? Almost kill someone? Almost.

Morrigan, for his smugness and cockiness and aggression, for all his violence and rage, is not an evil person. He is not perfect, but he's not a monster.

I cannot truthfully say that Morrigan's parents' and the other citizens of Atlantica's fear and distrust of me is wrong. I cannot say they are being too quick to judge, that they just haven't taken the time to get to know me.

I fit the Abyssal merfolk stereotype like a glove. I'm the horror story spread when the lights go out brought to life.

I told this to Morrigan that night, after my grandfather had taken his medicine and gone to bed. I suppose you could call it a warning, a flashing sign telling him to leave.

He simply smiled me, sharp teeth glinting and eyes burning with passion and desire, and shrugged.

"I know," He said. "I'm not changing my mind. I love you."

It was stupid. Insane, even. And yet Morrigan spoke as if he were telling me the earth revolved around the sun. Like it was an unshakable fact, something that cannot be changed.

Oh... oh, how I love him.

Morrigan was surprised when Silaa began pulling him upstairs. He had never been on the second floor. For all their time together, he had been limited only to Silas' little shop.

Silas began calling for his grandfather, and the dopey grin that had been affixed to Morrigan's face was briefly replaced with a confused expression, but he schooled it quickly.

"Well, I've horribly misread the situation." He murmured so Silas couldn't hear, perking up when Silas' grandfather swam in with a yawn.

"Mm, Silas, is it time for that awful drink alr-" He stopped short when he caught sight of Morrigan, surpised. "Well, if it isn't our favourite city boy. I'm surprised Silas brought you up here."

He squinted at them, then gasped.

"Are those-"

"Yes," Said Silas, reaching to grab Morrigan's hand. "We are... together now."

Morrigan grinned and clasped their hands together. "I hope you don't mind me stealing your grandson, Mister Emrys, sir."

The old mer laughed and drifted over to them to take Morrigan's free hand in his own. "Why, of course not. You're perfect for Silas, my boy. You should stay the night with us. We can celebrate."

Morrigan's grin widened. "I'd like that, sir."

It was a lovely evening. Morrigan and my grandfather, Emrys, got along well. It made me happy to see them banter with each other.

My grandfather retired to bed after taking his home brewed medicine, bidding us goodnight and leaving us to our own devices.

There was nowhere for Morrigan to stay. No guest room, no lounge. There was the kitchen, my bedroom, and my grandfather's bedroom.

Morrigan didn't mind. In fact, he said he'd be happy to share with me with that grin of his. I considered nipping him for that, but I don't think he was trying to be funny.

It was nice, actually. Sitting together, tails intertwined, talking through the night. Morrigan held me tightly, as if I would drift away from him.

He was very affectionate, as I soon came to learn. Kisses, holding me, complimenting me, and so on. He always asked first, and he always seemed so gleeful every time.

I never expected to enjoy physical affection, but it seemed Morrigan was always the exception. I often found myself melting into his kisses and holding his hand tightly, feeling warm and safe.

Our new relationship altered our routine once again. Now, Morrigan visited as much as he could after his classes, greeting me with a kiss and hugging me gently when our games finished.

Then we would sit close together, our tails curled around each other, and just... talk. We often got distracted, though, finding ourselves kissing roughly and... well, perhaps I should write that down somewhere else.

I was delighted that he came over more. Morrigan's visits were the highlight of my week, after all. There was just one issue I unknowingly stumbled into.

Morrigan knew me well by the time we began dating. Almost too well. He knew my personality, my tics, my likes and dislikes, and so on. But even with our games and our long talks, there are things you miss when you only meet once a week.

I always made sure I was feeling or at least appearing to feel my best when Morrigan came round, even if hunger clawed at my insides and the pain that shot through my body made me feel as if I were being branded with an iron.

I wanted to have fun, and I didn't want Morrigan to worry.

I think I was also too cocky. I put too much faith in my own abilities, even though my health was probably the worst it had ever been.

This overconfidence came back to bite me when Morrigan and I got into a playful tussle one day and... well.... I broke a rib.

It wasn't Morrigan's fault, no. I could never blame him for that. It was mine. I had perfected the art of making myself seem stronger, bigger, or more threatening than I actually was for the sake of my own survival.

My magic was strong, yes, but it wasn't something I used often. It was precious, a resource only used for emergencies, even before I learned what blot was.

Silas winced at the word, then continued writing.

I was so convincing, it seemed, that I overestimated myself far more than Morrigan did.

A sickening crack wiped the smile from Morrigan's face, and he instantly released his pinhold on Silas. He carefully moved and turned Silas over, his eyes wide with horror and concern.

"Oh shit, oh shit, shit shit shit, Silas, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean- oh, Sea Witch, how bad is it?"

"Ngh..." Silas blinked up at the rippling kelp above them, wincing at the mind numbing pain that exploded somewhere around his ribs. "I'm fine. Just a little... ngh, sore..."

Morrigan shook his head wildly, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Darling, no, I heard something break o-or fracture when I pinned you, oh no, what did I do to you-"

Darling. Morrigan said, "darling." Not Silas. Darling.

Silas didn't know why, but that made him incredibly happy, even though the situation didn't really call for such a feeling.

Morrigan, still alarmed, carefully hoisted Silas into his arms. "We need to get you to a- a doctor or a hospital or something-"

Silas' hand shot up to grip Morrigan's wrist tightly.

"No doctors." He hissed, struggling to take in a breath.

"Silas, your rib is broken-"

"And my grandfather will help me treat it. I've dealt with worse. Take me inside."

Morrigan bit back a protest and obeyed, swimming inside and placing Silas down on his bed.

"Just call my grandfather, please," Silas mumbled, wincing.

Morrigan didn't answer at first. He stared at Silas for a moment, tapping his claws together, and swallowed.

"I really think you should go to the hospital."

"No hospitals."

"Silas, you could end up with a pierced lung!" Morrigan snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Look, I never said anything because you seemed fine, and I didn't want to pry into something so personal, but... even without a broken rib, which I will repeat is very bad, you and Emrys should go to the hospital. Should have gone, actually. Long ago."

Silas laughed, taking in a sharp breath at the pain. "Hah, for what?"

Morrigan raked his left hand through his hair and clenched his right one into a fist. "Both of you are skin and bones, literally! I can see your ribs, Silas! That's not normal! Have you been eating anything at all?"

Silas let out a soft sigh. "I... I have a few scraps a day. Eating anything more... makes me throw up. Grandfather as well."

"That's even worse! You need to go to the hospital, both of, you or something-"

"I said no hospitals." Silas growled.

"Why not?"

"Morrigan, please. ...I... I can't. You think a doctor would want to help us?"

I suppose you could call a distrust of doctors a family tradition in a way. Not a single one of us trusted medical professionals, not because we thought they didn't know anything, but because we feared what they could do when given access to us at our most vulnerable.

I trust Morrigan with my life, however. I trust he will protect us and ensure nothing happens while we are in such a strange place.

The first obstacle was convincing my grandfather to go, too. He did not have the same amount of faith in Morrigan as I did. His history ran deeper than mine, after all.

My grandfather's grandmother was a child when our family was forcefully driven out of the Coral Sea and into the Abyss. The horror stories of before and after were passed down to him, and then he passed them unto my parents and to me.

Unlike me or my parents, my grandfather had a clear memory of my great great-grandmother's face when she told him of her experiences. He, young and impressionable, could see the fear glistening in her eyes, the way she seemed to be taken back to those moments, reliving the terror all over again.

There is a little saying, a proverb, she passed down to us. It was short, but it said all it needed to.

"They will hate you with a veil kindness. They will smile at you and fill your veins with poison."

And really, what else would such a saying do other than strike fear into your heart?

My grandfather was horrified at the very idea of going into Atlantica, never mind the hospital. It was the closest thing the two of us had ever had to a fight.

I told him Morrigan would protect us, and if he were to fail, I would make sure we got out and home safe. He needed to get better, or else he wouldn't last the rest of the season.

My grandfather eventually agreed, saying that it was only because he wanted me to recover safely, and then we began our trip to the city.

This experience was well over thirty years ago. My recollection of most of the events is fuzzy, but the little details aren't too important anyway.

What is important is the fact that we ended up staying in that hospital for a very long time, as there was far more wrong with us than even Morrigan could have guessed.

It was a very distressing experience. I was surrounded by doctors and nurses taking my temperature, asking me invasive questions, poking and prodding at me, shining lights into my eyes, and pricking me for blood.

Morrigan had to hold me back from breaking someone's face when they wanted to draw my blood for testing, telling me it was going to be okay and to let them do their thing.

I hated it. I hated it so much. It was a terrifying experience, and it is not often I feel genuine terror. But they... they just carried on, like it was your average weekday. Cold. Uncaring.

It didn't help that I barely understood half of what they said. Medical jargon. Utter nonsense.

Morrigan's doctor, the one he told me he trusted, did her best to make sure I was comfortable. She noticed I was confused and started slowly explaining what they were doing to me.

I don't know if she was genuinely trying to help or talking down to me, but either way, it did help. I felt better understanding what was happening to me.

There was... so much wrong with me. The doctors were surprised I hadn't died of malnutrition, but concluded my magic had something to do with my survival

I could never figure out why I kept throwing up food if I tried to fix my own starvation. It made me angry that I finally had a steady stream of food but couldn't actually eat much of it.

As it turns out, it is because of something called Refeeding Syndrome. Medical complications caused by aggressive nutritional rehabilitation. That is, too much nutrition at once after a prolonged period of starvation.

The best way to treat our malnutrition was by feeding tubes. Slowly giving us the nutrients we were lacking in a controlled environment. Morrigan had to hold me back again, as the idea of these strangers sticking a tube into me and pumping my body full of fluids terrified me.

I can't remember exactly how long we were in that hospital, but I do remember my recovery was slow and painful. Morrigan stayed by my side the entire time, making sure I was alright and using his magic to block my own when it lashed out when I caught sight of a needle.

There was an issue when we realised that neither I nor my grandfather had any form of identification. No ID, no birth certificates, nothing. Just our names, and we had no last name we could recall.

I distinctly remember a nurse muttering, "This is what happens when you leave them to breed down there." Morrigan shot her a look so dark it seemed to make the lights flicker, and she shut her mouth.

When we were healthy enough to move around and eat solid foods again, we had to do physical therapy. It was something that irritated me, even if I was glad to no longer be confined to a bed.

Being led around and told what to do by a stranger like I was a child made me feel the urge to throttle someone. Morrigan... Morrigan calmed me down, though. He was good at that. Rubbing my hand with his thumb and whispering words of comfort to me.

The worst was the psychiatrists. Morrigan couldn't stay with me during those little sessions, and I was trapped alone with a bored shrink who quite clearly didn't want me there.

It was quite obvious how they felt. I was taking up what could have been a free slot. I was taking time away from city merfolk.

They, the psychiatrists and the doctors, and the nurses, thought I was stupid. I know they did. It was soaked into their tones, bleeding out from behind plastic smiles.

Staying there was a terrible experience. I hated it, even if Morrigan's doctor tried her best to make things better. However... I don't regret it.

I still clearly remember looking into the mirror in the hospital bathroom one day and seeing the true colour of my skin for the first time.

It took me by surprise. My whole life, I had been a dull lilac-grey. But in that bathroom, I saw I was a deep flourishing purple. I spent ages tracing my skin and picking at my scales, entranced.

"You look amazing," Morrigan said to me, wrapping his arms around me. "Big I'm just glad you're healing."

My grandfather, who always appeared to be a dull brown-ish hue, was sunset orange. It left the two of us in awe, taking in the vibrant colours indicative of healthy skin.

It's strange how you sometimes only realise the extent of your problems after you've healed or gotten away from them.

When we were finally discharged, I had never felt so alive. My ribs no longer showed, my body no longer screamed with constant pain, and my insides no longer felt like they were being torn apart.

This sudden strength, this sudden joy and energy, made me realise just how much pain I was always in. How sick I was. I was one mishap away from a death that had nothing to do with starvation or being eaten, and I didn't even know it.

I was, unfortunately, instructed to "take it easy" for a few weeks until I could get back to hunting.

I couldn't do that. I had work to do, bills to pay. Morrigan could cover medical costs, but he couldn't also pay for my house and my staff's wages. I couldn't risk so much as a cent.

"It'll be okay, Si." Morrigan said to me with that warm smile of his. "You can still tell your party what to do. You just can't join them."

Morrigan was always optimistic.

My full recovery was much quicker than expected, but still very boring and nerve-wracking. Spending all my time inside, flitting about the shop, or lying on my stone slab of a bed, staring at the ceiling, was mind-numbing.

My grandfather was not so lucky. He still spent much of his time sleeping even though he was healthier now. His health always was much worse off than mine.

"We think Emrys was exposed to an oil spill," said Morrigan's doctor, whose name I can't remember. "His magic cleared most of it, but it still caused erosion on his fins and enlarged his liver."

It didn't help that he was nearing eighty. Merfolk can live much longer than that, but when your body has taken so much damage, that lifespan is cut short.

I looked after him the best I could. Helping him eat, giving him his prescribed medicine, thar sort off thing.

It was pretty miserable. The only thing that made it bearable was the music from the radio and Morrigan's visits.

He brought sweets for us. Can you believe it? Candies. Chocolate. Fron the surface.

"A friend from land sent it down," Morrigan said with a grin, unwrapping a bar and handing it to Silas. "A congratulations and a get well soon mixed together. Don't worry, the doctors said it's okay."

Silas blinked at him questioningly, and Morrigan quickly clarified.

"Oh, right. I told a few friends I'm officially taken... and that my new boyfriend was unfortunately in hospital. They sent this stuff down as good wishes."

Silas hummed, an amused smile crossing onto his face, and took a tiny bite out of the small piece of chocolate he broke off the slab. It was delicious.

Silas' grandfather politely declined Morrigan's offering of chocolate, telling the two to enjoy it and that he was going to lie down for a while.

Silas stared at the chocolate in his hand, and his eyes suddenly felt very wet.

"I don't... I don't think he's going to be with us for much longer." He said softly. Morrigan pulled him into a tight hug, and Silas tried his hardest not to cry.

It's nice to be cared for. Morrigan visited every second day to make sure we were alright. It was annoying to me that he didn't let me fight him, but I understood his reasoning.

When I was finally cleared to hunt again, the first thing I did was challenge Morrigan to a fight. I won, and I'm partially sure be let me, but I don't mind.

He looked ethereal, laughing in delight, covered in bruises and bitemarks, with his hair splayed out on the sand. Happy. Happy I was finally healthy.

This whole experience brought on a new issue. Morrigan had not yet told his parents we were dating at the time. I didn't care whether he told them or not, as it wasn't their business, but it was strange to see him stress over it so much.

I told him if they had a problem, then they weren't worth his time, and he just laughed. It sounded hollow.

He couldn't keep us secret forever, of course, especially since he took time off to stay with me while I was in the hospital.

He eventually told them a few months after I began hunting again. The day he did, he came storming into my shop, not even bothering with our game.

Silas perked up at Morrigan's presence, frowning when he saw the state he was in.

Morrigan was breathing hard, fists clenching and unclenching angrily. There was a raging fire, a maliciousness sparking in his magic that made Silas' skin prickle in all the best ways.

"What happened?" Silas didn't ask out loud, but his questioning and concerned look said all it needed to.

Morrigan looked at him, and his aquamarine eyes burned.

"You know what she said?" He asked, his voice set to a whisper, almost trembling. "She fucking said 'no'. What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I'm not asking for her permission or- or approval. And dad, Seven damn it, shaking his head like I've broken some fucking rule-"

Morrigan was on the verge of hyperventilating and Silas drifted over to wrap his arms arms around him and press his face into the crook of his neck.

Morrigan stiffened in surpise, then relaxed. He rested his chin on Silas' head and sighed.

"Sorry, darling. They're- my parents- not happy. But I'm not breaking it off so they want to meet you. Next week."

I was never unaware of meeting the family as a custom. It is a custom we even have in the abyss, if you're lucky to find a partner.

However, something that still perplexes me today about both Coral Sea and apparently land culture is the idea that you have to consider your partners family your own, and you must get along at all costs. If you dislike them, you smile and tolerate it.

Perhaps I don't understand it because keeping up appearances and faking getting along was a waste of energy in the abyss. If you didn't like a family member's partner, you could say so and carry on.

That's why I always felt so confused whenever Morrigan complained about his sister-in-law, muttering about how she got on his nerves with her smart alek quips and obnoxious way of talking.

"Then tell her that." I told him, and he looked at me like I was insane.

"I can't say that! She's my sister!'

"She's your sister's wife, not your sister. She doesn't need a free pass."

I think my way of thinking was part of the reason he avoided telling his parents about us for so long. I'm not offended, though. I never was.

There is... a trope in movies and TV I've come to notice. The overbearing in-laws. It's very strange to me, parents who are so obsessive and controlling over their adult children and, by extension, their children's partner.

I found it stupid and unealistic at the time. Who would behave like that? Who would try to take control of a wedding or decide their word is law in someone else's marriage?

Well, the answer to that would be Morrigan's parents.

They don't like me and I don't like them. They are not my parents or my family, not matter how much they insist they are.

I disliked them before I even met them. The snippets of how they treated Morrigan like their trophy I caught onto, the way they seemed to unashamedly hate me already, that was telling enough for me to dislike them.

I was unsure about meeting Morrigan's parents at first. They refused to come to Midway, instead insisting I come to them.

"I'll keep my exposure to the abyss limited to just the butcher, thank you," Morrigan relayed to Silas in a high-pitched voice, mocking his mother. "At least then we'll have a lesser chance of being infected with something."

Infected. Infected, she had said, in a snobbish upper-class accent, at least according to Morrigan. As if I were diseased.

Still, it was best to bite the bullet and just go see them. We made the trip there the next week, leaving at sunset to travel to a suburb near the heart of Atlantica.

I felt uncomfortable the entire trip there. The streets were busy even at night, bustling and noisy, lit with all too bright lights from advertisements and streetlights.

We finally arrived at a quaint house constructed from stone and metal. It was big, at least to me, and quite fancy.

"Hey, mother, father," Morrigan called out, unlocking and opening the front door. "We're here."

"Hello, Morrigan," came an aged voice, feminine and shrill. "And... you."

A small, thin woman with saggy skin and pursed lips stared at Silas with turquoise eyes as cold as ice. Her hair was silvery white, and her skin and scales were pink.

Silas silently stared back until her resolve wavered, and her gaze turned elsewhere, and she gestured for them to come inside.

"They're here, then?" Came a louder, deeper voice. Morrigan's father blinked at them with a pair of bright gold eyes. He was also thin, his skin the same deep green as Morrigan, but it didn't suit him. It was ill-fitting.

"Mother, father," Morrigan said slowly, sounding much quieter than usual. "This is Silas. Silas, this is Cyrus and Kiran, my parents."

Cyrus and Kiran stared at Silas, picking him apart, narrowing their eyes at every scar, every hole in his fins, every little imperfection.

Silas stared back. They were thin but not too thin. They were unnmarred, perfectly comfortable. Well-fed.

Weak. Spoiled. Prey.

Kiran cleared his throat. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Silas." He said, like a liar. "I hope our Morrigan isn't too much for you."

Silas didn't answer, and an awkward silence fell.

"Well," Cyrus said suddenly. "I suppose we should thank you for your services these past few years. Buying from you has been a big help financially."

Silas nodded his head and continued to gaze at them. Morrigan gently elbowed his side, and he blinked.

"Ah- it's... no issue."

The silence descended again, and they all floated there, staring at each other. Morrigan's parents were quite clearly uncomfortable with Silas there, neither coming near him nor looking him in the eyes.

"I must ask," Cyrus said after a while, her icy eyes glimmering. "Why are you dating Morrigan? I didn't think someone like him would pique the interest of... someone like you."

She tried to phrase it so politely. As if it were a mere difference in culture. But Silas knew what she meant.

"Because I love him," Silas rumbled. "That's reason enough, I'm sure."

"W-Well yes, but surely there are other factors-"

"No."

Cyrus looked taken aback by Silas' curt response, exchanging an aghast look with her husband.

"T-That's good, I suppose. Make yourselves comfortable, I'm making a prawn salad for a light meal. Kiran, you can get the wine out, and Keres, stop lurking over there and say hi to your brother."

Another mer, pink with dark blue scales and fins, swam into the living room with a huff. His hair was white with dark blue highlights, and his gold eyes glistened in annoyance.

Morrigan started, looking between this new mer and his parents.

"What's he doing here?"

Keres pulled his lips into an exaggerated pout. "Come on, Morrigan, that's no way to greet your little brother." He said, his voice dripping with manufactured sadness. "I'm just here for a visit to our loving parents. And to meet the lucky guy."

He waved at Silas and grinned. "Hi there. Keres Clearcove. Second oldest of the our clutch. Nice to meet you."

Silas blinked at him, unsure of how to answer, and Cyrus laughed. "Oh we'll let you three chat for a bit." She said, grabbing Kiran and making a swift exit.

"I'm not in the mood for your bullshit today." Morrigan hissed at Keres. "You've said hello, now go away."

Keres raised his hands, looking offended. "Sorry, Your Highness. Forgive me for forgetting my place. Just the lowly brother of special great mage Morrigan."

"That's not what I meant-"

"I'm sure it wasn't." Keres smiled. "Let's not fight in front of your man. Though I doubt it'll affect him much, considering his... background."

Morrigan drew his lips back threateningly, and Silas gently touched his arm. "Calm down. I'm sure Keres knows better than to run his mouth."

Silas stared at the mer in question until he swallowed and nodded his head. "Y-Yeah, of course! I'm not looking for trouble. In fact, I'm here to tell mother and father about a new client of mine."

"Client?" Silas glanced at Morrigan.

"He's a lawyer." Morrigan muttered.

"Indeed I am." Keres said proudly. "While Morrigan here babysits magic wielding brats all day, I consistently work with very high calibre and high paying clients to buy nice things for my children. I recently scored a CEO. Can you believe it?"

Morrigan's eye twitched, and Silas decided against answering.

"Tough crowd. Well, I'll be on my way to hide in my room while you-" Keres pointed at Silas. "-get scrutinised down to the tiniest detail and hounded about babies. Have fun."

He then left as quickly as he arrived, before either of them could respond.

"What a brat," Morrigan hissed, looking more irritated than Silas had ever seen him.

Keres was not wrong, unfortunately. I was, in fact, scrutinised down to the last detail, asked questions that ranged from odd all the way to invasive and rude. The topic of children was briefly brought up, though Cyrus expressed poorly hidden disgust at the idea and recommended adoption instead. As if we were planning to have children at all.

It was worse than the doctors at Atlantica General, I dare say. At least they weren't asking about my fertility since they "wanted grandchildren from their eldest."

Morrigan seemed to be on the verge of either punching someone or slamming his head against the wall the entire time but opted to dig his claws into the dining room table and grind his teeth instead.

Silas couldn't blame him. The fake kindness, the mock sympathy, the plastic hospitality made his teeth itch to bite something. He wanted them to stop lying. Call him a monster if they really wanted. He hated those forced smiles so much

Finally, finally, the conversation was coming to an end, when Cyrus said... something rather odd. And stupid.

"Listen, Silas, you seem... Nice." The lies kept spilling. Flowing out of her mouth like a winding river. "But we don't want you dating Morrigan. It isn't safe-"

"That's not for you to decide." Said Silas, and Morrigan sucked in a sharp breath and nearly tore through the table.

The facade cracked and Cyrus' face twisted into an angered expression.

"Now listen here, I will not have our son bee manipulated by-

"Shut up!" Morrigan snapped, wrenching his hand back and tearing through the table. "If you can't behave then we're going to leave."

"Come now, Morrigan, think carefully about this." Said Kiran. "You know, the merchant's son is a nice young man-"

"I said shut up." Morrigan tugged on Silas' wrist and began making his way to the door. "Come on, Silas."

Morrigan stayed with us that night, fuming silently. He wasn't just angry. He was hurt. Very hurt. I did my best to comfort him, though I don't think it was much help.

Unfortunately, that was not nor will it ever be the last time Morrigan and I clashed with his parents. They're a stubborn pair, hellbent on getting what they want even if they repeatedly fail.

They won't ever truly accept me as Morrigan's husband, and I can accept that. They can continue being hateful cretins, and I will carry on as I always have.

A knock on the door broke Silas from his writing trance. He put his pen down and took in a deep, slow breath. Even writing about Morrigan's parents gave him a headache.

"Coming, Timo." He called, then packed his writing away and left.

...........................................

Guide: Start, Prev, Next

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It really was a wild ride

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

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@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord

[arvadthecursed]

Hi everyone. This isn't an easy post to make, but it needs to be done.

I have decided to rehome Stella.

There's a lot I haven't told you guys about the situation with her. I was worried you'd think I was disgusting, a slob, a pig. But I want to give you all the context for this decision.

About two months ago, my parents decided to try and see if using a crate upstairs would help Stella acclimate better, by giving her a safe spot where the boys couldn't get to her. This was a disaster.

Stella quit using her litter box entirely. At first I was worried she had another blockage, so I took her to the vet. She was slightly constipated so she got some medicine. I thought that might help.

I had bought an air mattress a few weeks previously, as Stella had urinated on my mattress and I was concerned I couldn't use it anymore. Stella used my air mattress as a place to use the bathroom. It got worse from there.

I will spare you all the details. But over the course of the last month and a half, my room was basically destroyed. Besides the air mattress, my actual mattress is completely ruined. I'd thought I might be able to save it, but she urinated on it several more times as well as had BMs on it. I had posted pictures of her in my yarn cubby, thinking if was cute at the time. That yarn is ruined, and the cubby is, too. And my carpet will have to be replaced from how she used it. There is basically no way to salvage my room as it is.

She has had behavioral issues like this before, where I did something that upset her and in response she would use the bathroom on, usually, my bed -- but never this drastic. Each time I would clean up, try to fix what I'd done, and accept that this was part of my life now.

I paid my sister to clean my room for me, which she did and I'm grateful, I couldn't even think about my room without crying bc of how awful it was -- but my room is still a disaster zone. I can't sleep in there because it smells like, well, a litter box, and that will make me sick. It's a vicious cycle. I can't be down there too long to try and fix her behaviors, so her behaviors continue.

I have accepted that I can't give Stella what she needs here. I can't care for her like she needs.

I have spent more than $1500 on her vet bills, I've tried changing her litter box and litter multiple times. I bought a stainless steel water fountain for her because I was worried she wasn't drinking enough water. I have read countless articles, watched videos, consulted my vet over and over. I was worried it was a health problem bc she has struggled with those. But... It's a behavior. And it's a behavior I cannot cope with.

I've spent the last month and a half trying to cope. I've been spending time with her as much as possible and as much as I can tolerate. I've tried to redirect her behaviors. And I have to accept that I can't do this anymore.

Stella deserves far better, someone who can be with her all the time (or close to it) in a household where she's the only animal and can be the focus of attention.

It breaks my heart. It really does. I've cried every day for the last several days. I've second-guessed myself, I've beat myself up. In some ways, I feel like I'm failing her, like I'm giving up on her. But I have to do what's right for her, and I can't be what she needs.

I'm going to be contacting a few rescues on Monday to see if they can take her or recommend a foster. I don't want her going back into a shelter. At her age, with her health problems, that would be a death sentence, and I can't do it to her. She spent more than 7 years of her life in a shelter. I don't want her to have to go back.

I'm sorry. I know this is heavy, and it's not what anyone wants to hear. I feel horrible about this. Like I said, there's part of me that feels like I have completely failed her. But I know I can't give her what she needs. It breaks my heart into pieces and I'm starting to cry writing this post.

I didn't want to just stop posting about her and you guys not know what happened. I am going to make sure she goes into good hands, to someone who can care for her like she needs to be cared for. And in my own selfish way, I needed to vent, bc I have cried so much over the last month and a half as months of my items being used as a litter box has worn me down -- especially not being able to sleep in my own bed for several months now, and my room for the last month and a half.

I will let you all know when I find her somewhere/someone to care for her.

I will likely not be replying to anything on this post or ask about it, at least not for the time being. My heart hurts. It feels heavy in my chest whenever I think about her. I need time to heal and process this. I do not make this decision lightly at all.

Thank you for reading.

Millie

[jessidogg]

I'm sorry to say this, but your plead to leave Justin alone just perpetuates white male privilege.

1. He criticized Britney Spears, his ex, for her drinking problems when she was a) being forced to perform to be able to see her children, b) forced to get an IUD, c) being financially abused and defamated by her father and ex, and d) recovering from the mental and emotional trauma of being exploited as a child star. This is one of the main reasons he's being so heavily criticized now. It was not only hypocritical, he ended up doing something worse because Britney never drank and drove

2. OF COURSE the cops say he was perfectly polite. He's a rich white man. He had no reason to fear for his life, the cops probably weren't aggressive towards him at all. He also knew he'd be easily bailed out

3. It is EXTREMELY out of touch to attempt to brush what he did under the rug. My uncle was killed by a drunk driver and it left my aunt and cousins devastated and in a really bad way after his death. Drunk drivers have ruined lives for purely selfish reasons. Just because he voiced your favorite animated troll doesn't diminish that

4. He's a grown ass man. He doesn't need you coming to his aid. People are allowed to be mad at him for his reckless and careless behavior. All your PSA does is try to guilt people to stop criticizing him. That's shitty

Hello! I have read all three of your asks and I totally understand where you're coming from! I'm so sorry that your uncle was killed, that is really depressing and sad and I'm praying for your family still💕

One, I'd like to say that no, JT does not need me to come to his aid. I'm VOLUNTEERING to bc I like him. I don't need his permission to tell people to forgive him, that's stupid. It's totally alright to stand up for people, just bc he is an adult does not mean that I cannot stand up for someone.

Two, you are so right! Driving while drunk is a stupid thing to do, and like I said, I am very frustrated he did such a thing. Justin has done tons of things he regrets from his drinking problems, and I wish he would just stop. But addictions are hard to stop (I totally understand that bc I have been thru multiple myself) but I wish he would just try a bit harder.

But I am not brushing what he did "under the rug". I'm sure that I won't persuade you, and that's fine, but I was only saying that we shouldn't take advantage of this to hate him even more.

I am sick of people going "haha, he's a loser" as if just because he is a celebrity that gives him more reason not to sin. I am saying that him driving drunk is just as bad as anyone else driving drunk, and that being drunk in general is terrible but that also shouldn't be the reason we hate him.

Justin Timberlake would never hurt someone on purpose. We all know that. The fact that he could have hurt someone is terrifying, but it's reality and I realize that. The point is, he made a mistake, and mistake does not mean an "oopsie" in this case, it means a "he knew what he was doing and it was a terrible idea".

In my other post I did not phrase it very well, and I'm sorry about that. What I meant was, Justin did something wrong. I am a strong Christian, and I believe that every sin is just as bad as any other. The difference is, some can cause way worse consequences. Driving while drunk is way more dangerous than maybe lying to your parents. But my God tells me that one is not worse than the other.

Even for those not being a Christian, I think everyone should know that there should not be worse sins, and "okay" ones. Everyone deserves a chance. You should forgive everyone 70 times 7. Then do it all over again.

If a liar told a nasty lie about you and didn't apologize and kept going, but a murderer turned himself in and repented and stopped, would you still say the murderer is the worst person?

The fact that Justin won't try harder annoys me. But we should never put even more hate on him just because he's well-known. He is a human. He is just as bad at stuff as other people are.

Also, Justin Timberlake is a nice guy. The fact that he knew he was going to get released wasn't why he was nice, and being white and rich should have NOTHING to do with what the police say (I find it extremely weird for u to use that description). Justin has been known for being a sweet kind guy and he loves his fans, friends, and family. He has been seen in the middle of a concert stopping everything to make sure a fan who seemed in need of help was alright by ordering security over and asking if they're good. He does tons of stuff around his town just to help out. DudePerfect, one of the most popular trick shot YouTubers, are strong Christians and said that one of their favorite memories was playing golf with Justin Timberlake. There would be no reason for them to lie about that.

Justin should not have criticized Britney Spears about that. That is very confusing why he would, and maybe he was just trying to get her not to go the direction he did a few times, but idk, it is just really stupid. But again, humans in general are stupid. I bet u can name a bazillion times u criticized someone about doing something that you have done or ended up doing yourself.

NOT HIDING IT UNDER THE RUG OR SAYING IT'S RIGHT BECAUSE IT'S NOT, JUST SAYING THAT WE ALL DO THAT KIND OF STUFF

Gosh, I know I'm probably no getting my point across, here lemme try to say this in an easier way. Erm... Justin Timberlake is human. Humans sin. Okay. Sinning is not good at all. We all do it, however, intentionally, from lying to murdering. Big or small consequences can come from any of them. DWI is terrible. I hate when I hear about anyone doing that. You have a right to be angry, I am angry at Justin. But I hate how the already Justin haters are taking advantage of every thing he does and making him seem worse than he is. You can hate him, whatever, but you can't stand beside him everywhere he goes, paper and pen, and mark down his every sin, calling him "even worse than before" with every count. Being drunk is bad!!! Driving while drunk is bad!!! But we should feel sorry for him that he doesn't seem to be able to find an outlet in something else. And we shouldn't hold up his every action, dangerous or not, against him. If we all counted everyone's sins, we would all add up to the same amount of terrible that Justin Timberlake is. We are all dumb humans. We shouldn't hold up everything against each other. We don't know the whole story of anything. All we know is that he was driving drunk. He was probably stressed, trying to have a good time, other stuff. This doesn't make it right. But it should cause us to be more cautious about the situation. Most of the people who bully have things going on at home that is causing them to let out their anger on others. Not saying that's right, but we shouldn't call them "bad people" and basically say "he did this so we're more better than them." That may not be how you think of it, but it's what you're saying.

I really hope I am not making people feel guilty, that is the last thing I want. I just want people to understand my view. If I made anyone feel guilty or it seemed that way, I apologize, that's not how I meant it at all. I just didn't agree with stuff, and I wanted to say what I thought, just how you just sent me what you thought.

Hope I said this right. I may not have because I am bad at explaining things through type. I'm sorry if I offended anyone, I love you all and mean nothing rude. 💕💕❤❤💕💕❤❤💕💕

-Jessi

[madhatterbri]

You Proof | Hangman A.P.

Summary: The Hangman goes to the saloon to forget about you. History AU.

Author's Note: Inspired by the song You Proof by Morgan Wallen.

Taglist: @99hook @plentyoffandoms @theworldofotps

Pure fiction.

"I will tell you when I've had enough," the Hangman countered and took another shot of whiskey. The bartender knew not to question him off anymore. The man's eyes were bloodshot and reminded him of murder. His boss told him plenty of times to leave the wounded man alone. He always paid his tab at the end of the night. He just felt bad seeing the man struggling without his Y/N.

"She wouldn't want to see you like this, Hanger," the bartender sighed in defeat and poured him another shot. He slid it in front of him and left the Hangman to his thoughts.

Hangman scoffed at the man's back. Like he would know what you would want from him right now. He doesn't know anything. No one un this saloon does. No one knows what he did to you. The memory started to play in his mind. He took another shot, but the alcohol didn't drown the memory. The look you gave him when he said those horrible things to you. Your beautiful face mixed with anger, confusion, and sadness at his betrayal.

"Do I have to go back there and pour myself another shot?" He asked loudly. The saloon went quiet. The man on the piano stopped tickling the ivory keys. The girls stopped entertaining the men by flirting or playing cards. They knew now to push him more. The broken glass on mirrors and windows served as a reminder.

He staggered on his barstool. The bartender slid him two shots to keep up with the Hangman's demand. It only made his job harder. The Hangman grabbed a shot glass in each hand and slid it down his throat. He slammed the empty shots down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. The memory of your hurt started to change like a ripple in a puddle.

"This isn't going to make you forget her, darling. Be the change she wanted you to be. That will win her back," one of the newer girls at the saloon advised. She placed a hand on his shoulder, yet he shrugged it off.

"No, it won't. Your wares have no interest on me," he grumbled. Hangman never bothered looking at the woman, but that didn't mean he didn't leave her with one request. "Before you go have the bartender, pour me some more shots,"

The dancer rolled her eyes yet did as he instructed. The dancer's words made him think of you once more. He could see the worry in your face if you were to see him like this. It wasn't his fault. Your voice, scent, and figure plagued his mind no matter the amount of alcohol that burned his throat.

"Do you have anything else? This isn't working tonight. Give me something else, something stronger," he demanded and slammed another shot down on the wooden bar top. The bartender started to pour him one of their better alcohol. Hangman was slower at hitting these. The effects you had on him started to dampen, yet you weren't completely gone.

Time passed, and it was closing time. Less people meant the bartender could focus on the Hangman's needs. This delighted the blonde cowboy as his glass was rarely empty now. The bartender cut him off once Adam started falling asleep in his barstool. It was time to go to sleep.

"Are you going to be here tomorrow night?" The bartender asked as Hangman paid his tab. The drunk man stood up from the bar stool and swayed.

"I'm going to a different town with better alcohol. This alcohol is diluted with water," he answered and moved his hand as if he were shooing someone away from him. "I'd give any amount of money to be rid of her once and for all,"

"Hangman, you are going to drink yourself to death! Please just consider going to see her and talk to her," the bartender pleaded. Adam grabbed the shot glass and threw it in the mirror. The bartender sighed and looped the Hangman's arm over his. The men stumbled towards the stairs so they could get some sleep.

Adam stared at the damage he had done to the mirror. The mirror reflected your face the day he betrayed you. His heart ached as he would sleep another night without you by his side. He laid in bed with one last miserable thought.

"I need something your proof,"

[sequentialprophet]

I don't generally do personal posts on here, for various reasons, but I don't really have anywhere else to put this so, since this is the throw your feelings into the void website, feelings under the cut

This time last year my dad died. And it fucking sucked. And it has continued to suck. I wish I didn't know that when you plan a funeral for someone who didn't have a plan, you fight because the only person you want to ask these questions you can't. I wish I didn't know that coffins are incredibly heavy when held at waist height but weirdly light on your shoulder. I wish I didn't know what it feels like to be heart-hurt for an entire year with no reprieve.

I am not religious. I'm not particularly spiritual either. I don't know if it would help with all the nights I've laid awake this year wondering where he is. How can a person just be gone? I know what death is. That doesn't answer my question. I feel like it would be easier to bear if I could have one phonecall just to say hey, I hope you're okay. I know it doesn't work like that, and that's grief.

I feel too young to have lost a parent. It's agony knowing I'll never speak to him again. That he has another grandkid he will not only never meet, but never knew existed at all. Some days are a litany of he will never drink coffee again. He will never feel the sun again. He will never tell me to make sure my doors are locked because he didn't know how to say I love you again.

I am fundamentally changed in a way that I don't really understand and don't know how to navigate.

I wish I didn't have to put this here but my sisters can't talk about him without crying. Other people get uncomfortable because it's been a year so I should be silent about it now.

I talk about him more in every day life. I tell people oh yeah, my dad loved that. Oh yeah, my dad taught me that. I talk more like him. I tell people I love 'take it easy' when I leave them instead of goodbye, like he did. It hurts me to do it, but it hurts me more not to.

The other day I found a playlist I'd meant to burn on a cd for him because he loved to listen to music in the car, but refused to learn about streaming. Realising I'd forgotten felt like losing him all over again.

He died at work. It was sudden. No illness or indication. I've spent the last year debating with myself whether this was a better way or whether I would have preferred a long illness and a chance to say goodbye. I don't know what he would have preferred, but I do know the last thing he heard was my sisters voice and the last thing she heard was him laughing so really, what else can I ask for.

I am a naturally secretive person. It's my biggest flaw. I haven't told mostly anyone, about his death or how much I am struggling with grief. I've been difficult and more reticent than ever before. More absent whilst appearing more visible. Some people left, and that's both deeply understandable and very okay. Some people stayed, put up with my disappearing for weeks, my seeming disinterest or my brief but intense bouts of attention. All my love to them.

It's weird how quickly everyone's life returns to normal, meanwhile I'm just walking around blown apart and not acknowledging it. So this is me acknowledging it.

My dad died last year and I did a little bit too.

[reflections-of-mobius]

Anonymous asked:

🏳️ for Node ("What will make you give up?") 🧼for Bless ("Do you prefer to take a shower during the morning or evening? Do you like taking baths? What's your favorite scent of shower gel?") ❌ for Murk ("Would you do something that someone told you not to do? Why? Is there someone you'd actually listen to more than everyone else?") 🧋for Devlin ("What's your go-to thing to drink? Do you prefer cold or hot drinks?") 🥼 for Cinn ("Do you have to wear a uniform somewhere? If yes, how do you feel about it? If no, what kind of uniform would you love to wear?") 📖 for Rust ("What kinds of books do you read? Do you have a lot of time to read?") 🛴 for Tempest ("What's your preferred way of getting somewhere - own car, public transport, a bicycle, or something else? How well do you follow the traffic rules?") 🥰 for Azure ("What would make you feel happy and loved?") 🐇 for Strawbeet ("Do you believe in other dimensions?") 💽 for Tenebrosity ("Do you collect anything? Why?")

[Random In-Character Questions. | Accepting!]

"....probably the same thing that happened to Nature....repeats of the deaths of those I love,...unending,...until I'd just...shatter."

"I prefer about an hour before sunset, actually.- That way, I don't have to worry about an excessive amount of fur when I'm trying to get myself clean. Not really a fan of baths, though- and I don't use shower gel, so I couldn't tell you...unless we're talking shampoo in general, in which case... Run Like The Wind, which has a nice flowery smell to it. It's a bit stronger than the incense I light when I'm meditating in the morning, but it's still really good."

"....if the circumstances were correct,...I'm sure I would." Murk let out a small breath. "...the lives of those I have come to know...mean so much more to me than I could have ever imagined." He nodded lightly. "I would trust the requests of my allies over anyone else's, at the very least...though I do not believe I hold one in higher regard than the others."

"Orange Creamsicle Soda, no contest...and I do prefer cold over hot drinks. Have you seen where I live?"

"I actually don't- but if I had to wear a uniform, I'd want something that looked really nice! Like a button-up suit with a tie, or something. Not that it would really work given my day-job is repairing damage around Apotos, but it would look really snazzy!"

"What purpose do you have in learning about the literature I consume in my free time?" The answer is medieval fantasy, anything with a knight as a main character,....and no, due to being assigned missions left and right, alongside chatty coworkers.

"....flying." The faintest hint of wistfulness was on her face for a moment- and then gone. "I used to own a bike. Perhaps I should see about asking Tails for a new one at some point. I'm sure he would appreciate the challenge of an all-terrain bike that can withstand extreme temperatures."

"Cuddling and help with making gemstones....both of which Temps already does. Sorry anon, the position of 'girlfriend' is already taken~." He's just going to. Lightly stick out his tongue-

"Other dimensions goes against the doctrine of the Chaos Temple, so of course I don't!" He does- he's semi-friends with Murk, after all. And after his disillusionment with the temple,...he doesn't trust their teachings at all.

"Not as if yet. I'm not entirely sure if there's anything worth collecting, out there. The only thing I gather is rings- the higher the purity, the better. It makes me feel...just a little closer to my brother."

[ornii]

“A Worrysome Sort”

Sick Wednesday Addams x G!n Reader

Wednesday has seemingly had gotten herself an Absolutely dreadful cold.

I suppose the only warning is that Wednesday is a bit, cold. (No pun intended)

Winter in Nevermore was different from most schools, while there was no holiday break, class was suspended and students had a week off before the new year as well. Some students took that to visit family before the end of the year, some did hibernating due to their genetic powers, others like Wednesday, decided to hibernate with Bears, which lead to her getting a dreadful cold. After being found half dead, well she usually is but more half dead than usual, she was taken to her dorm by her new "friend" (Y/n).

Wednesday awoke like a corpse, her arms crossed and eyes closed. Wednesday awakens and she sits up. Her nose, which is slightly red which stands out due to her pale skin. She looks around to see that she isn't inside the bear cave. The dorm door opens and a shadowy figure steps in. Wednesdays teeth clenched and she spoke in a slightly raspy tone. The Doctor pulls from behind them, a capsule of some sort.

"Has death finally attempted to finally reap my soul? I'll have you know I won't make it easy for you." She says, the figure turns to her. As it's someone dressed like a plague doctor, they laugh and remove the mask to show their face. Wednesday frowns a bit seeing (Y/n) laughing at her.

"You really think death would open the door?" They smile and Wednesday just pouts. "I had to avoid bears and drag your popsicle corpse back to Weems, who surprise surprise wasn't particularly happy about you doing that."

"I could care less about what she thinks." Wednesday said, and (Y/n) frowns.

"Okay, but for me? Can you not get to freeze yourself to death?" They ask, Wednesday continues to pout but (Y/n) used their cute manipulative eyes.

"...Fine." She relents and they do a small celebration.

"Great! Don't worry about Enid when I told her you were sick she said she'd Room with Yoko. She said being sick messes up her "Aura"? Or whatever that is, so it's just you and me!"

"I'd rather play hopscotch into oncoming traffic."

".. Noted." (Y/n) says, they walk over to the table and  take the robes off, revealing their Nevermore attire underneath, and comes back with a few books to boot.

"With you being bedridden and needing rest, I took it upon myself to go to your classes and take the homework that would have been given and took notes."

"Meticulous." Wednesday said.

"You know me. But first, Cocoa." They say and Wednesday was taken aback, they open the canister to a mug of Cocoa. They hand it to her and she stares at this holiday abomination.

"…What, is this?" She said, (Y/n) now begins to look a bit worried.

"Cocoa? Chocolate? You know something to warm you up—"

"I will not drink such slog drivel.." she utters as her raspy voice seemingly longs for the sweet release of death.

(Y/n) takes a deep breath and sighs.

"Okay, what would it take for you to even take a sip of it?" They ask. Wednesday scoffs and folds her arms.

"If the marshmallows were black, the Cocoa was made from 100% dark chocolate from the hellscape of Brazil, and it had a straw." She says obviously sarcastically, just to hurt (Y/n)'s feelings. They stand up and walk out of the room. Wednesday looks at the cup they left and a slight look of, sadness washes over her, she pushed them away as usual, Wednesday looks forward to the window as the snow falls. The door opens and Wednesday prepares to apologize. But before she can a new cup of cocoa was shoved in her face. She sees it's darker than usual, with, Black Unburned marshmallows. And a straw with black and white straps. She looks at it, confused. (Y/n) frowns.

"100% dark cocoa, freshly made marshmallows with black food dye and warmed to perfection." They say, Wednesday slowly takes it and drinks some and the rich dark flavor dances along her tastebuds.

"...Did you do this to prove a point?" Wednesday said, and (Y/n) smirks coyly.

"No, because you asked for it." They reply, which Wednesday couldn't tell if they were being sarcastic or genuine. They smile and lean in, gently placing their hand on her forehead to feel the warmth emulating from Wednesday’s usually cool skin.

"Well you're heating up so that's good~" they say with a wink. Wednesday turns a bit red and She just grumbled and drank her Cocoa. (Y/n) held up a seat and sits next to her and opens the first book of their studies together.

"So, let's talk Algebra.."

[monomorphilogical]

Knee deep in the country

fallen from grace in between four walls and a ceiling doom

when I was younger I'd die alone over and over again in my room

they'd find me laying there besides a hole in the wall

my guts and glory spilled all over the floor like a vulture free for all

and time dragged on with my hands busy bleeding it out of me

if anybody could love me — I'll get it out of me

watching my skin part red sea holy and weave back together thicker

tell me all the time love tastes sweet but it only made me sicker

watching strange faces talking about how it's not hard to want me

they can never get ahold of me — but he’s getting me

'85 and riding up soaked to the bone with the light of the sun

saying he's all bravado when he's holding onto the barrel of a gun

but he's still broad-shouldered when he walks through my front door

and I’m too close to tell which one of us needs it more

dying over and over again when I'm drinking down the life of him

made to beg like a fallen angel soaked in a river of sin

when we're getting lost in a glass house with only a stone to throw

wondering if he gets scared 'cause he knows I can take the blow

I'm not afraid of death because death's all over me

all that time spent swinging by my neck from a lover knotted rosary

sunday mornings taught me everything that's holy tastes sweet

only sixteen and already starved out — forgetting how to eat

praying if it feels this good how could it be wrong?

but I still held myself by the neck in the bathroom all night long

pacing the porch like a rabid animal gone hungry —

they say it's all the same when you're knee deep in the country

when we were mouth to mouth like tonguing a fractured windshield

and I found out what blood tastes like when it's congealed

it all fell down inside of me and it didn't feel real — some fever dream

my baby comes up to me like the movies he sees on his tv screen

while I'm watching him like a drive in theater going up in flames

blinded by a silver gleam in the last couple of frames

and my mouth felt like it could take the heat so I just slept it off

close-mouthed saying you know I care but how much is enough?

we're walking the line between heaven on earth and the fires of hell

and there comes a time where you can't be saved by the bell

burning up on the side of the road like the aftermath of a car chase

sparking metal to blacktop while trying hard not to leave a trace

and he'll say he just needs to come home before he's fucking gone

it happens to everyone — he won't hold it down for long

says I look like an angel and I told him the ground sank where I fell

like the devil himself tried to pull my bruised body down to hell

can you see I walk around with wings cold-tipped and blue?

— but I know my baby's no angel too

and not a soul in heaven knows where he's going anymore

only looks around the room for a moment before he's out the door

and I'll always follow him out 'cause I don't want to be left alone

anything could be the death of me so I'll just go and do it on my own

sick of hot pacing the parking lot beneath the light

there's nowhere to hide when the world's soaked in black and white

so I told him that — all choked through with nicotine

but my voice was drowned out by a fallen angel crying gasoline

and I know he just needs to feel like someone wants him the way I do

laughs in my face when I tell him I promise you they do

now I'm wasting away waiting for the street light to beat me out

but we both know there's barely anything left that could keep me out

— go and take another drive down a farm field road

dragging along with a heart of steel just to watch it rust and corrode

standing in front of him in the way I tried my hardest not to do

I'm all wide eyed and fucking soaked through

running on empty as soon as all my transgressions are undressed

misfiring on all cylinders and goddamn hard-pressed

his eyes reflect a metal gleam like he's looking at another machine

here the whole world smells like skinned knees and gasoline

already passed heaven and hell's billboard at the point of no return

and I'm not the type to crash and burn

but he knows the only time I'll open up is when I'm taken apart

tells me gasoline residue is enough for the fire to start

and like a stubborn knucklehead I keep bleeding all over the floor

— he doesn't know what to do with me anymore

takes another smoke and keeps his hands away from the side of me

'cause I'm always trying to let it be — I can never let it be

looked the other way and I still found him there in the reflection

now the rust burning my face is spreading like an infection

drive in theater memories of riding fast through a godless place

I'm all shades of red and I can't feel my face

don't tell me it's all the same when you're knee deep in the country

'cause I won't stop him if he ever tries to kill me — kiss me

that's just the way things are when you're all guts and no glory

it's drywalling the death of me — all the things I tried so hard to bury

at the end of the day you'll have to be what you have become

there's nothing left to do but watch the hungry teeth succumb

a cupid nightmare — but it sounds so sweet when fallen angels pray

and I think he likes his girls that way

says he needs me to look up at him when I've gone all red hot

but he still comes to me sweet when I'm lingering in the parking lot

God knows I wouldn't be here if I was a little stronger

and I'd cut off my wings if it meant I could stay here a little longer

'cause the world smells like gasoline and I'm fucking soaked through

all over him and saying let me pray on my knees to you

I need you to take me apart until I'm flayed open and on display

your fingers in between the parts of me that corroded away

all up in my guts the same way I've seen you do to that machine

want him to do it to me like I'm his garage queen

metal to blacktop when his hands wrap around my gasoline thighs

and I'm not scared of the fire 'cause I've got a fire burning in my eyes

we're both knee deep in the country but he does it so perfectly

and I'll burn eternally

[fruit-salad-ship]

Pirate AU, Plum and Peach are finally at a point where more personal questions can be asked, a quiet night in a port while the crew let loose and enjoy.

She's got to know, what exactly did peach do for 500 odd years? Tales are told sure but how true are they? Did she slay foul beasts and captain ghostly ships? Was she the one who robbed that barron the one time? Has she really travelled to the bottom of the ocean?

Peach laughs, she's heard the stories, they make their way back to her.

But truth be told, with the crew distracted and Plum becoming something she enjoys, if not even trusts a little, she briefly goes over it.

"I spent the first 10 years hunting the people responsible for my wifes death." she takes a drink, proud she got every last one of them and their familes. wiped the entire bloodlines off the face of the earth through sheer rage and fury. "After that I mourned, another 90-100 years just...coming to terms with it all. Once I could bare to leave the sea caves and start to do thing again, I stole a ship, it was 200 odd years of being a nightmare. Those years alone were what racked up the bounty on my head." A bounty with an unfathomable number attached to it. "I slept around, tried to find company in others to feel some small fragment of love or affecton again, but it was all meaningless. Fought things people didnt believe to be real, stole from the richest, killed the nastiest, became something to truly fear... I think looking back I was lashing out, I was angry at being alone. My crew feared me, not because I was stern and strict, but because I would often lose my cool and snap. There was no rationality then, I had no concequences, nothing to die for, nothing to be killed by, it went to my head. I tried to fill the void with anything and everything." She drinks again, the weight of that old tarnished wedding ring around her neck noticable now. "It didnt work. I grew tired of being the meanest thing out there, just...slowed down, stopped taking work until i needed to for money to drink, stopped hunting people, just kept to myself. Ever since then I just wandered around, waiting for...anything to happen that made sense, gaining more of a reputation every day I didnt age, didnt die, every time someone came to kill me and put holes in me, drowed me, tried to end it. But i just kept surviving, it only strengthened the stories told."

Plum was becoming increasingly aware that the worst rumours no doubt stemmed from that more violent period of time in the womans life, bloody, brutal, inhuman rumours, the ones that stuck in the history books.

"Then you showed up, demanded I join your crew, first person in hundreds of years who bothered to approach me with a proposition." The unspoken truth behind that was that Peach followed for the feeling of familiarity, not the money or her captains inspiring words. "Can't really turn down fates call like that."

"Huh. I'd have thought you'd have spent more time causing problems for people." The smaller woman laughed after saying that, imagining Peach in her prime, at the peak of her ferocity, knowing just how potent she could be when needed now, even though she'd become almost dismissive and docile with people according to the locals and tales about her.

"Well. I've always got time. Never know what the years will bring."

[tamrah18]

Hey dad, I can't believe you're gone.

Not gone like when you and mom divorced

Gone like completely absent from this earth

The kind of gone that can't get any worse

I wish I had answers

Or a better explanation from you

But since I won't ever get them

Writing this out will have to do

I know we haven't spoke much since I was 16

I'm 25 now, kinda of hard to believe

But not as hard as knowing

That you continued to drink

So why choose the bottle

Over Desiree, me, Riley, or Seth?

How was drinking so much better

You let it cause such an early death?

You know I loved you dad.

Despite all your flaws

Despite your drunken words

Or the crayons you "threw at the wall"

Where I happened to stand

With my back faced towards you

And let's not forget

about the dirty napkins too

Did the drinking cause the odd behavior

Towards me and my friends?

What about the inappropriate jokes?

Or the text messages you would send?

What about the alcohol you gave us

When Mom wasn't home?

Or how you would make my friends

Sit with you downstairs all alone

Why was Seth always the favorite?

Is it because he is your biological son?

Was I not considered your daughter?

Although you came into my life early on?

I asked for secret handshakes

And to be tucked into bed

I didn't care if Seth went first

I just wanted to be included.

It didn't have to be the same

I'd be fine with being second best

I just wanted a dad

Who didn't treat me as less

Desiree could do whatever

Riley could do no wrong

Yet I was banned from the pantry

And singing when the radio was on.

Dad, I was barely fourteen

When you saw my thighs covered in blood

You didn't respond how mom expected

Instead you laughed like I knew you would

Do you remember all those fights

That would make bubba cry?

How about that summer before

I started junior high?

I had a friend over

She was hiding in my room

She overheard you say

"Your mom will always pick me over you."

You reaked of alcohol

And it wasn't even noon.

But by that age

I kinda expected that from you

I was embarrased and hurt

That someone else heard you say

The things that you did

When mom was away

When bubba was busy

Or everyone else was asleep

Someone else finally heard it

But it didn't change a thing

Dad when you were sober

You showed me how to cook

You taught me self defense

And how to throw a right hook

You helped us practice

The sports that we loved

Taught us responsibility

You made sure we were tough

So why would you drink

The way that you did?

Sober you was supportive

You would never lay hands on a kid.

You wouldn't tear a child down

Instead you would pump your fists

While you scream our names

After we would get a good hit

Make sure we were safe

And knew that we were loved

Always remind us

We are blessings from above

You were a baseball coach

A firefighter too

The man of the house

The protector was supposed to be you

But when you drank it was different

You didn't save lives

You weren't the dad we needed

Instead you left me traumatized

Wait, not only me

But your other sons and daughters

Your wife at the time

Your sisters and brothers

Old friends learned quickly

New friends came to know

If you had a bottle in hand

It was time to go

You made your choice

That much was clear

But why didn't you tell us

How your time was near?

You were so sick

The doctor told you how bad

So why not tell us sooner

Why wait so long dad?

54 is so young

To be strapped in a hospital bed

Struggling to breathe

Unable to lift your head

Your words were quiet

Did it hurt to talk?

Why did you use all your energy

Trying to get up and walk?

You asked us for forgiveness

You told us you loved us

But dad, you still never answered

Why you put the bottle above us.

And now that you're gone

I'm left with just memories

Hey dad why isn't there a picture

Where it's just you and me?

I've searched for some answers

I've screamed and I've cried

I've gone through your things

I've asked myself why

I've talked to my friends

My therapist too

But truthfully dad

I wish I could just talk to you

So maybe if you're listening

Maybe you can hear what I say

Dad I love you and I miss you!

Can you hear me okay?

Send me a sign

A cardinal will do

Send me a sign

That you love me too.

[remycroft]

Cross my Heart, Hope you Die || Heimdall X Reader

Chapter 9 - Call to wind

I woke up heavily confused.

The first thing that confused me was why I was in Baldur's chambers when I vividly remember passing out in the middle of a pavement. The only answer was that I was brought here. But by who? Did Forseti return and find me like that? Or did someone else, possibly Atreus? The thought of it being anyone other than Forseti or Atreus made a shiver run down my spine. I was so vulnerable. I could have been killed or worse.

The second thing that confused me was the fact that whoever it was who had found me had clearly healed my wound in their own special way. They had burned, what seemed like a split in my head from the impact, and my hair with it. I didn't care too much about my looks, but for the lack of humiliation, couldn't they have found a healer to do it for them? Or waited till I was up so I could do it myself.

The third thing wasn't exactly confusing, just annoying and overwhelming, the moment I got up and started getting ready I had noticed that the chambers had been cleaned from my consistent breakdowns over the past two weeks and then a servant came with a tray of food and water. "Eat and drink, please. You look like a ghost and the All-father would not like you to die yet." There was malice in her voice and I questioned whether it was poisoned. I had forgotten about the fact I hadn't eaten or drank. Normally I have to eat at least within a week before hunger kicks in, one of the negatives of being a demi-god, I had to remember. For the likes of Kratos and my mother they could last months, but I couldn't. They had served me what looked like stale bread and cheese, and a red apple which had mold at the bottom. I almost wanted to ask if they were serious but at this point within my fast I had to eat something. If it was poisoned, then I guess I'll have to force the poisons name out of them and get an antidote by any means necessary. Screw Odin's 'no harming Asgardian's' rule. I ate the food and drank, what turned out to be the lukewarm water. She left immediately. I looked around the space and sighed, I really don't want people in here while I'm sleeping, if they had just given me one day I would have had it cleaned. I suppose I may just have to stop sleeping and passing out so I don't get killed in my most vulnerable state.

I also don't want to be killed while I'm awake. That would just be humiliating. If I went down, I'd go down fighting. I would defend myself, Atreus, anyone who was innocent, till my final breath while I'm here and to do that, to be efficient in my skills. I didn't need to just train physically, I had to train my magic too.

In those years with my mother after Baldur's death she had me train both vigorously and then when my magic amounted to nothing, she screamed at me and told me to only focus on my skills with weapons as that was the only thing I was good at. So I did, but I wasn't good enough to actually beat Heimdall in single combat, and if I couldn't beat him, I couldn't defend Atreus from just a simple threat such as Heimdall who just bullied him, he's not Odin or Thor, who I know could do so much worse to him if they wanted to. I know I may not be able to face either of them and eliminate them but I could try and maybe give Atreus time to run. I also know that the only advantage Heimdall has on me was his strength and his ability to violate my mind and give me a massive headache.

~

To begin training I thought it best to improve on what I am weakest at, magic. So I cleaned myself, changed into decent clothes , grabbed my weapons and went to the library. I also thought it best to cover the bald spot by braiding my hair around it into a crown around my head, it wasn't just beneficial to me for vanity, it also kept my hair out of my eyes for later. I went searching for certain books and found all that was necessary; I looked for one on Asgardian history to find out more about my opponents, I doubt there is something about weaknesses but I could at least try, magic as a whole to learn more about the different kinds and what I can use, poisons and antidotes, just in case, creatures of the nine realms for I am somewhat aware some creatures carry ingredients to poisons and antidotes, I also needed to know , and Asgardian fighting techniques.

I found all of them. Although it was a lot more than just 5 books, I was interested in all areas. For example with magic I needed to know what I was capable of so I picked up four books for just magic. I ended up with fourteen and I didn't have anything to carry them in so I made use of my hands and jaw. I proceeded to leave after checking them with Bragi, the God of Literature and librarian of Asgard. He was skeptical but allowed it as he was 'moved by attitude to learning'. Well, if he decides to harm Atreus my attitude to learning will bite him in the ass. I was at the threshold of the library when Heimdall faced me, pushing himself off the wall and took a step toward me. "Now, what do you think you're doing?"

"Taking books to read until Atre - Loki, comes back from his lessons." I lied.

He picks the book on top of the pile, one of the volumes on poison, specifically on their styles. "Interesting, one could think, this would be useful for using against us."

"Then one would be a moron. I was ill for two weeks and I'm in enemy territory. One might think she was poisoned." I bit back, he scoffed and I knew he caught the lie, of course he did.

"Liar. Besides, if we wanted you dead, we wouldn't have to do it discreetly. You could be put to the sword or burned at the stake, like the witch you are." I recognised the emphasis, and I saw the jab at Freyr. It boiled my blood. "Do you want to know what I think?"

"No, but you're going to say it anyway."

"I think you're here to dismantle, to cause chaos. You are here to protect the brat, that is certain, despite the terrible job you're doing." I winced at the jab, "but I also think your traitor of a mother wants my home reduced to rubble, and you're here to help. That I will not allow!" And with that, he kicked my shin, and I plus the books toppled onto the floor. Despite the pain and burn that rippled throughout my body, I laughed. At this point, I only had one card up my sleeve, his ego.

"You really think I'd try something like that with you watching. I'm the Goddess of Logic, for Ymir' sake. I know not to do anything this explicit, even though causing chaos for you sounds like a lot of fun." I smirked at him and his eyes flashed, "I got them because I was genuinely curious to see if I was poisoned, I also wanted to try my best to help with the patrols I'm forced on with you. If I have a knowledge of the creatures outside the walls, I can maybe help keep new Midgard protected. They are my people as well." He looked like he had his entire perception changed and then reverted immediately.

"Maybe you do have a brain, or perhaps not. These won't be of much use to you though, the Einherjar protect them from the creatures outside, I only get involved in inter- fighting that causes death." He rolled his eyes like the entire thing was pointless and meaningless to him. It wasn't surprising. He wasn't like my mother or Freyr, who actually cared about mortals. He was one who believed the gods were above all. A true racist bigot. "I'll allow whatever this really is, for now. See how useful you may become." The ire in his words made me uncomfortable. He turned on his heel before turning his head to his shoulder, I saw the glint of purple of his eyes, a shard of the real gemstone, "See you at dusk."

~

After picking up all of the books and walking to willow tree, my entire body ached. I never wanted to do this again, but I could think of no alternative. Well, there is no alternative apart from magic to keep them preserved. I may as well start practising then.

I searched into the books for anything pertaining to preservation. The sun was at its peak when I succeeded. I found it in a volume that looked like it was hanging on to the threads of it's spine, and definitely needed rebinding, but hopefully, if I succeed, it may last a little longer. The spell would only preserve something for a day, so I suppose I had to come here before midday for as long as I train. I thought of what I did when I used magic to heal, I felt the world around me, the earth under my knees, the wind that blew around me, the ripples that went through the pond, and finally the magic that resided within me. The moment I felt it, I knew something was different. Normally, there was just a spark, something that was small, barely there. Now, it felt like that spark had grown into a flame of what size I didn't know. It felt so far away. I tried pulling it to me, and some of it yielded to me. The rest, I could not reach. Hopefully, this was enough, I placed my hands on one of the books, "vard-veita." I chanted, letting my eyes close only slightly, I felt the flow of magic run through me like water in a stream, wind through a tree, and opened my eyes. Because I can't recognise magic, I have no idea if it actually worked, so I only have one way of finding it out. Dip it in the pond and see if it worked.

I picked up the book and opened it, so it was just the cover page being dipped, I don't want to ruin the entire thing. I may hate the Aesir and everything they stand for, but I'm not monstrous enough to destroy a perfectly good book, I also need the volume for practising magic while I'm here, there's that too. I dipped the cover into the pond, wincing as it entered. Please work, I begged to the magic that ran through every living thing. I pulled the book out of the water and felt the leather cover.

It was dry.

~

I immediately started screaming and dancing in pure ecstasy. I'd done something with my power, I wish someone, specifically my mother, could see this. I hope she would be proud of me. I then became conscious of how I'd look to others, despite how remote and away from the main city this was, and composed myself. Although I did start laughing at the thought of someone seeing the sight of me, the Goddess of Logic, daughter of the first Valkyrie queen, Freya, first person to knock the God of Foresight on his ass in over a century (probably), dancing and screaming like a child because she finally thinks she becomes useful. Ymir, I hope no one saw this.

I knelt back on the floor, preserved the rest, and returned to the book feeling drained. It didn't matter though, I had to continue. For Atreus, for my mother's approval once I returned. I thought of things my mother had done and remembered how once when fighting against me, after I had started to push her back, she had conjured a beam of energy so bright it had blinded me and she gained the advantage. I looked for that.

It wasn't in the first volume that contained the preservation spell, and after hours of searching for it, I found it in the third book. It didn't contain an incantation of any kind. It said that you had to feel for your power and imagine the beam in your hand. I did just that, I felt for my power and imagined the beam of energy. I started to feel my hands warm up, and I thought I'd be able to do it, that I'd have not just one, but two successes. I failed. All that happened was sparks started to appear, and then they fizzled out. The feeling of disappointment was familiar to me, and so was the feeling of exhaustion. I think it is probably best if I stopped, maybe looked into the history of Asgard and looked at fighting techniques to oppose the Aesir.

~

I did just that and by dusk I'd found out some useful information; I read that all sons of Odin (apart from Tyr as he was imprisoned) took part in pacifying the dwarven rebellion in Svartalfheim and that Heimdall was the one to brand a dwarf named, Durlin (one of the rebellion's leaders. This made me hate him more, knowing that he probably loved doing something so cruel. I didn't know much about the rebellion but what I did know is that the dwarves, a giant named Laufey, everyone who fought, were incredibly brave for fighting for their freedom and that Odin ensured that the spark of rebellion would always be quenched. It disgusted me how Heimdall was praised for such an act of cruelty in the text, so much so that I gagged. He also helped assist Tyr with the imprisonment of the hound of hell. The surprise that went through me was interesting. I couldn't believe he'd assist with such an honourable task. I suppose Garm threatened all realms, including Asgard, so the narcissistic piece of shit had no choice but to help defend his home.

I had exhausted myself by remembering Heimdall's fighting style from the initial fight, the day Atreus and I arrived here. I lost because I got cocky, because he had invoked a furious inferno that ran throughout my entire being and I wanted to see him on the floor, wipe off his perfect exterior and show to everyone that I could take him down and show that he was weak, and I was good enough to defeat this God who immediately turned up his nose at Atreus and I because of our blood, the realm we were born in, because he was eternally loyal to a monster who had ordered the death of my father, the imprisonment and violation of my mother, and the deaths of millions. Heimdall was a walking shit stain, and I wanted him to suffer, most of all, for the threat he posed to Atreus and for his violation of my mind. I worked tirelessly at figuring out how to fight him best, I figured that having the range to give him a good shot to the heart would be preferable, but I trained with my sword anyways, just in case.

When the sun started to set and the moon started to rise, I was dripping with sweat, and threads of my hair had started falling out of the braid. In my reflection, I saw a mess. I suppose that was a good thing. It showed I'd done something. I groaned when I realised I had to walk to the wall and, in the end, would be by the side of the worst person to ever walk the nine realms. That may be an over exaggeration since his father existed, but he's definitely in my top five of the worst people to ever exist.

The walk to the wall was refreshing. The sweat started to disappear off my body from the wind that blew through me and I welcomed the breeze, I was walking through fields to get there so I focused on the birds chirping, the feel of the blades of grass that tickled my ankles. It grounded me, which was useful for the conflict and rage I would feel inside me the moment I saw the protector of Asgard.

The silence I felt on the platform was different to the silence of my walk. That was serene, this was filled with so much resentment and the tension was so thick that I would have less trouble gutting a hare for dinner than cutting through the tension that was between us. I welcomed getting of the platform and having more than a five meter distance from him, I moved away as fast as I could and went to my perch on the wall. I actually had an objective for today that wasn't ignore Heimdall, it was protect the humans from the creatures because the Einherjar are pathetic. I equipped my bow and focused my vision onto the illustrious Plains of Ida. I found my mark of a nightmare that was getting far too close for my liking, I knocked an arrow onto the string of my bow, drew it back to my cheek, and loosed it. It didn't surprise me that it hit the nightmare, killing it, but I was happy either way. I'd done something, something good. I've felt so useless while being here as Atreus was clearly being split from me it was nice to do something which might help, which did make me wonder, why was Odin keeping me here? It clearly wasn't out of any benevolence, he's a monster after all, it wasn't to use me, I wasn't as malleable as Atreus could be; I was my mother's daughter after all, there had to be something more here. He couldn't kill me as that would weaken his relationship with Atreus, he could send me home, which was a perfectly decent option. I was a potential distraction for Atreus, I was loyal to my mother. The fact that he hasn't sent me home, gives me reason to think the likelihood of me actually returning is slim. So why accept me here in the first place? The fact that I didn't know made my head go fuzzy, there was a logical explanation for this and yet I couldn't see it, which meant I needed more facts.

The first few stars had entered the sky, and I'd eliminated countless creatures when my arrows started getting low, I didn't mind much. I knew I couldn't collect them because the likelihood of me being allowed out, then allowed back in, was low but thankfully, there were trees which I could collect sticks from, I had spare feathers in a bag on my belt, and I'd find the steel somewhere for arrowheads. If someone would actually sell to me, that would be awesome. "You do know we have Einherjar down there to protect them?" Heimdall whispered into my ear.

I froze, but eventually, I refocused my vision from the plains of grass down below to the plains of lavender that were his eyes, "I've seen the Einherjar fight. a kitten could do better."

Heimdall laughed at that. It took me a second to register, that he laughed. It was short, sweet, not sinister, not the ice cold laugh that sent blades of ice through my entire body. This was genuine, beautiful. I suppose it fit with the exterior of him, even if the inside was rotten and disgusting.

"Okay, waste your arrows. It doesn't affect that pathetic b-" he didn't get to finish his sentence because I wrapped my bow back around my body and punched him as hard as I can, that I may have broken one or more of my fingers. It was a shame I could only heal cuts. This would be a nuisance. The look on his face was worth it, though. His eyes flashed, and he gritted his golden teeth that I gritted my own at the sound of metal on metal. "What the hel was that for?"

"You insulted my people." And with that, the mocking laughter came, and I felt the ice. It was funny how this man could make me boil with rage and freeze with fear at the same time. Why did he have such an effect? he seemed to relax a little, then he delivered a swift pommel strike to my abdomen, making me keel over. He proceeded by kicking me to the floor and placing his foot on my chest. "I've killed your people, thousands of them, actually."

"And Ragnarok will be your retribution." I spit back, trying to get myself back on my feet, but am just met by more pressure on my chest.

"Not if the All-Father or I have anything to say about it." he snaps, and I let out a breathless laugh.

"It is prophecy, you can't ignore fate, you imbecile."

He placed more pressure and I let out a hoarse groan, "Prophecies don't always come true, although, I suppose you wouldn't know enough about them, considering you were isolated with no one but your traitorous, bitch of a mother."

Before he insulted my mother, I felt defeated. He was right, I didn't know enough. Then, I didn't care. He would not sully her name. I used every morsel of my strength to get him off me, which made him lose his balance, and it was my turn to bring him to the floor. I ended up with my knee on his chest and my face hovering over his. "Do not insult her."

"Hypocrite, you insult my father, my King, you threaten my people, and yet you call us the aggressors? Now, where is the logic in that?" He smirked, and I punched it off his face, drilling my fist into his nose. Blood printed itself onto my fist.

"Your father had my father killed, he destroyed my mother, he started the war . You fucking deserve it." Tears had started leaking from my eyes and had landed on his own cheeks, I saw the hypocrisy in the insulting parents part, I immediately realised that he was just a son, a follower of his king, I hated to say it, but in that way I was the same. The rest was bullshit, they were the aggressors, they started the war and watched as it raged on from the comfort of Gladsheim. They live in peace while the remaining Vanir live in poverty, they suffered the most. The Aesir deserve Ragnarok.

"One, your mother was a traitor, and you are my enemy. Therefore, I don't really care. You deserve the suffering." I gritted my teeth, "Two, which war? My father started a lot of wars and has never lost one." The boast wasn't missed. How was he proud of having a tyrannical conqueror as a father?

"She refused to give Baldur's curse to Odin! How is that traitorous? I'd call it a fucking blessing."

"Either way, still an enemy."

"Then give her exile, kill her, not curses that destroyed her." Maybe if my mother had died, it would be some solace, and I wouldn't have had to have been born. I was a mistake, I had to be, I was weak, naive, I couldn't get most things right. In every way, I was a failure, and after the incident with the raiders, the person who looked like my mother had made sure to remind me of it. I rejoiced when she came back to me, brought back by Atreus and the desire for true vengeance.

*~*~*

For a singular moment, I felt sympathetic, I saw from her expression what her mind must always be screaming. She was entirely alone for her entire life. Her father killed. Her mother was destroyed and distant, with no allies and no friends. From what I knew, it was just a small sphere of nature for just over a century. Then I remembered I didn't care about her at all, Frigg deserved everything she got, so did the Vanir people, they or Freyr seemed charming at first, Freyr reminded me of a nicer version of me, maybe what I could've been if I didn't have this curse or gift, to know what people thought at all times made me see the evil of everyone, how treacherous they could be, but it was also a gift, I could protect my home, erase the threats before they lie there way out of it to someone ignorant. Freyr seemed good at first. He genuinely came out of diplomacy to help us so the war wouldn't start and peace could be achieved. I was wrong. Apparently, it was just self-preservation. His magic didn't do anything, and the famines we had just got worse. He helped almost cripple us so the Vanir could actually stand a chance. It was pathetic really, considering the moment the marriage ended, and Frigg was gone, they had nothing, and they lost easily. Thor and I didn't even break a sweat. It was a shame I was sent back to allow Thor to finish the job, seeing the fear on their faces as we swept through the ranks, picking them off one by one, was one that made me feel so happy. It was one of the few things Thor and I actually agreed on. War was one of the best things we'd experienced. The only war I truly feared was Ragnarok's. It is the end of all that would mean this place, the All-Father, it would all be gone. Everything good with this world would be erased.

"Do you know how many of my people you're uncle left to starve during our famine? Do you know how many of our soldiers died due to your ever so precious mother in the initial attack?" She looked so dumbfounded it was almost adorable, "No? Okay, I'll tell you," I paused, "thousands died to the starvation, mortals like the ones you claim to care for. Then, it was countless in the war."

"It was the same on both sides."

"Don't care. Frigg, your entire family and country deserved everything they got." She stared into my eyes for a moment. They were filled with emerald fire. It was exhilarating if I was being honest. Fun. Her pupils started moving in thought and I wished I could no what's going on in that mind, so much so that I tried to enter again only to be met with silence, a wall that I couldn't pierce through. It was a direct contrast to what it was like as a child. I had had no control whatsoever, I used to start crying whenever I was in crowded spaces as they'd all be blending together. They were all so trivial as well, what they'd do, how they were going to do it, sometimes it would be their own conflicts, and then some would be monstrous. I saw them for who they all were, and it hurt me, not just physically but emotionally. So much so that I hated them, so much so that whenever someone good would come along, I'd be waiting for when they'd think something horrible or just do it. Most of the time, I wasn't disappointed. She started gritting her teeth as I tried to push past. She didn't break, though. I hated to admit it, but she was strong, physically and mentally. Her knee on my chest hurt, and so did her punches and then her will. It was made of something stronger than steel.

"And so will yours." And with that, she stood up and got off me. I was quite grateful for it. The air going back through my chest was refreshing.

The remainder of the night was silence, I guarded with the normal, extreme, vigilance, and I made sure to keep an eye on the Vanir. None of the creatures started wandering near the Midgardian settlement, so she was left without anything to do. Even without it, she seemed in her element up here more than on the ground. It wasn't lost on me that that would be because of her uncontrollable, unbeknownst to her, power to control the wind. It was disgusting to see her look like she belonged in a place she didn't. She doesn't belong anywhere in Asgard. Despite how much I hated her, I was intrigued by her. She was the only one who could block me out. She was intelligent and resourceful when she had the information necessary, powerful. I wanted to see her at her most powerful though, when I found her last night, it was a struggle to get past the wind she was unleashing, and I wanted to know what she was capable of. If I did know, I could use it to strategise a plan with the All-Father to take her down and find out what could be used to fully destroy her. Although, I do believe it's somewhere in her mind, she hid something deep down and from what I've heard from the brat's discussions with my good-for-nothing niece he didn't know much of her apart from what we know. She has had a life which, even when she left the stave, we didn't know, and me breaking through her shield would be the key.

When we returned to the Great Lodge I was prepared to go brief the All-Father as I do normally, but I remained for a moment to see (Y/n) pet Gulltoppr and thank him for holding the both of us, which the noble beast responded with a purr. I rolled my eyes, "Go to Baldur's chambers." I made sure not to say they were her's, they weren't they were my brother's, whether he was dead or not, it didn't matter. It was an insult to him that she was even allowed to sleep in them and wear his wife's clothing. I don't even know how Nanna hasn't crossed paths with her yet. Oh wait, yes, I do. Ever since Baldur's death, she's refused to leave her home. I know Forseti checks on her from time to time, I don't care enough about her to check. It was disappointing, though, despite her being a Goddess of Peace, she was still fierce, now that was gone. "Jealous?"

I scoffed, "Please, I trained him, tamed him. The day I become jealous of any connection you two have, Ragnarok will have come." She puts her hands up in surrender and said goodbye to my mount, he responded by licking her. She laughed and smiled, and I had to appreciate the purity of the moment. I didn't care if it was her, I didn't get them much, so I appreciated the small scenario. I went to leave, and before I entered the lodge, she called for me, and I turned around, "What?"

"I would like to apologise." I couldn't help but scoff again. Why was I allowing this folly? I had to debrief the All-Father about her, about tonight, just everything I found out that was known. I went to leave, but I was met with the bringing down of her mental shield, and I was halted in my tracks. This most definitely was a development. I couldn't see much. The rest was buried to the back of her mind, and It would take time to search, time in which she could easily put up her shield and block me out again. I could see her sincerity though, that I was right about her hypocrisies and that she was grateful for me teaching her that war was not black and white, it was complicated, both sides doing it for the good of the other and it was just the innate horribleness of people with a conscience. I didn't particularly know how to approach this. All I knew was that there was a positive effect to earlier as I'd clearly helped her. It was strange, I'd not known her long, and I hated her more than literally anyone else, and yet this made me feel something. I could see that she wanted to be better, to not be such a failure, and I a sort of kinship with her. She may not be good, or sincere, no one but the All-Father was, and yet she wanted to be, truly wanted to be. In that moment, I knew what that feeling was, one that I couldn't explain. It was some small sliver of hope that people could be better. I reminded myself of her allegiances and crushed that hope. She could not be truly good as she went against the All-Father, the only good person there was.

She brought the wall back up and I felt myself being pushed out, "We'll see." I muttered and I left to my father's office.

"Is that a bruise I see forming?" These were the first things I heard as I started my descent down the steps, "It's nothing." I had no idea why I decided not to tell him that she threw a hook to my jaw, chipping one of my teeth, and then punched me in the nose. It was probably still those weird little feelings she'd been able to coax out. I'd call this my forgiveness, then be done with them. "Sure." I reached the bottom, and I walked to him, "So, what have you found?"

"She let me in her head." His eye widened, and he gestured for me to explain, "We had an argument about the war, how she was a hypocrite in certain respects, and for once she listened. She allowed me into her head to see that she wanted to give a genuine apology."

"Did you see anything else?"

"No, the rest was buried so far deep it would've taken time to search through. Time I didn't have as she could shut me out in a second's notice."

He gave a slight nod, "This is good." I didn't tell him about the preposterous explanation of how she thought the war with her people wasn't straight forward, it was incredibly clear. The All-Father was right in what he did, conquering Vanaheim was deserved. After what Freyr did, the people that died, every death, every agony they ever experienced, was deserved. I may not have liked them, I may not have known them, but it is my duty, the reason for my entire being, to protect the land and the people in it. Only in death will I be separated from this. I failed them when I cleared Freyr. Watching him burn was one of the best moments of my life.

"I also watched her train today." I remembered watching from my place on the wall, when she did the preservation spell, her funny little movements afterwards, her failure at creating energy. I remembered watching her study me specifically, I made sure to look at the pages she was reading; I saw her negative expression at branding Durlin, I smiled at the memory of when I'd burned the dwarf and then how she'd looked shocked at when I helped with Garm. I didn't understand it, I'd made my stance on being the protector of the realm quite clear, I was doing my duty when I begged to be relieved of my duties so I could fight, it was the one thing I'd ever asked the All-Father for, he was skeptical as I'd just been bestowed Gjallarhorn but allowed me to help. Then there was her ruthless efficiency with a blade that I also noticed was to fight against me. Her movements were awe-inspiring. Every stroke, every parry, every block was precise, strong, and swift. I had to resist the urge to watch for longer as I had to keep to my duties, I also had wanted to try and copy her movements, fight back against what she had started to perfect. I had to keep to my duties, but I made a mental note to practice more, considering she was the first to hurt me in over a century. I repeated all the facts, not my opinions, to him, and then I gave my evaluation, "I believe she should be sent home or killed. She's powerful, and she doesn't even know it, we don't know what she'll be like if she starts realising how powerful she is."

"Did I ask for your opinion?" I was taken a back, I believed my reasoning was good. She was a threat to this realm. How could he keep her here, especially alive? My dream of her burning this realm to the ground replayed in my head, and I winced.

"No, All-Father."

He hummed, "Continue to keep an eye on her. I'm sending you both to Svartalfheim tomorrow. The dwarves aren't meeting the quotas I've set. Remind them of the war, do what you want with them, just make sure they start working how I want them to."

"Why not send Thor?" The question was insubordinate, I had realised immediately, but I was protector of the realm, not his executioner.

"Thor's sloppy. He goes for the kill and doesn't care about what he breaks. You, you tortured in the wars before, and you were beautiful at it. You made examples of them. I'd like you to start doing that again, with tensions rising." I couldn't help but smile, I had missed this, and I couldn't wait. There were two questions to be answered, though, "Why is she coming with me? And who will protect the wall while I'm gone?"

"For the first question, I'm not stupid, and I have eyes and ears everywhere. She hurt you. I promised punishment, and here it is. Remind her of how weak she truly is, make it impossible for her to defend them. You can threaten the kid if you'd like, even follow through if you want, I don't care as long as he's functioning enough to find the mask pieces." The ecstatic feeling running through me made me feel a little dizzy, I don't think things could get better than this. I'd actually been given the go-ahead to torment the boy, not like I'd been doing it already, but this would be special. I mean, I've been planning to kill him because of how much of a threat he is, but I also know I'd have trouble with it, considering he's under my father's protection. "For the second question, we're in a time of peace right now, so it's not entirely necessary for anyone to be. Just in case, I've placed two Einherjar soldiers for every metre of the wall across it." I've seen the Einherjar fight. A kitten could do a better job. I gave a slight smile at the memory. She was right, though. They were pathetic in comparison to literally anything else. They were only formidable in population. It worried me that it wouldn't be enough.

"Could you either double them or place the Valkyries up there, too?" I was concerned, especially after the arrival of those two half-breeds. The tensions were rising, this was shown by the fact that I had to go to Svartalfheim, that we had to send more soldiers to the other realms, especially Vanaheim.

"I'll see what I can do, is that all?"

"Yes All-Father, thank you."

"You're dismissed." I bowed as I normally did, perfect, respectful. It was what I was meant to be to the people who deserved it, and he was the only one.