#the bond between a girl and her cursed weapon is something that can be so personal

[grelleswife]

New key visual for Majo to Yajuu to commemorate the introduction of Helga Velvet and the beginning of the demon sword arc!

Source

[lovemyromance]

I really hate this rhetoric of antis saying Elain only starts to feel better and snaps out of her depressive state in ACOWAR when Lucien gets there.

*fair warning this is a super long and chaotic post so please bear with me*

For one, it really just shows how they don't understand basic POVs or choose to ignore it. Lucien is not the catalyst to Elain's clarity, he didn't do anything for her when he got there.

His presence was not at all wanted by Elain. He made her uncomfortable. Even Nesta could recognize that and she snarled every time he tried to go near her sister.

From a strictly logical writing perspective, the reason you see correlation between Elain starting to feel better and Feyre & Lucien's arrival in the NC in ACOWAR... is because the story is literally told from Feyre's point of view!!?

How in the seven hells would we as readers even know about Elain's depressive state let alone her feeling better if Feyre (our narrator) isn't there? We don't see how bad it is unless Feyre sees it. We don't see it improving unless Feyre witnesses it.

The fact that Elain starts to recover after Feyre's arrival makes sense because how else would we know if the story is being told through Feyre's point of view?

Feyre notices Lucien try to talk to Elain. She also notices how uncomfortable her sister is around her mate. She immediately voices "What if the cauldron was wrong", questions if it's possible to reject the bond and now that makes her an unreliable narrator?

You know what Feyre also notices?

When Majda says "A mate should be able to sense something amiss."

And they bring in Lucien - here's your big moment my dude, tell us how to help her - and he does nothing. He could sense the bond but he couldn't sense anything about Elain. Certainly not enough to tell what was amiss.

The most he ever did was say "She needs fresh air." Not, as the antis would have you believe, sunlight. He says she needs fresh. air. After a long internal monologue how she's been cooped up in her room for far too long.

Also, Azriel wasn't even present to hear Lucien say that. But the moment he carried her (bridal style, but who's keeping notes?) to the townhouse, he offers to show her the garden.

And he was the one to figure out Elain was a Seer.

And people keep yapping "Oh he figured out what Elain's powers were that's not what was wrong with her. Her powers are not WRONG. Rhys figured out Nesta's powers. Oh he just wanted a new weapon for the NC." Stop that. You look like clowns 🤡.

He figured out her powers. And she got better. Her powers inherently were not wrong, but but she was being assaulted with visions she did not ask for nor understand. Poor girl probably thought she was hallucinating and going crazy. It was what was wrong with her. The fact that she had all these crazy visions, and she did not know what was happening.

The second Azriel figures out her powers, Elain immediately feels better. Don't believe me? Look at the text:

(+ bonus of the High Lady observing another way Elriel makes sense)

Also, you know what is Especially, Really, Super Interesting? When Lucien tries to help and says "she needs fresh air".

Nesta immediately says "We'll judge what she needs."

But then -

Later, after the attack in the library, Elain tells them about the other cursed queen. Even Nesta is tired, not ready to hear her "crazy talk". Lucien asks "should we-does she need.." looking to figure out if they should help her.

But Azriel? He is the first person to listen to her. Not Nesta, Not Feyre, certainly not Lucien. He asks her a question, treats her like normal and asks "What other?"

He knew. Somehow - he figured out she was a Seer. He knew she would like to sit in the garden. He knew she doesn't need anything.

And y'all can debate all you want. But he figured it out when her mate could not. He understood what Elain needed, without her having to say it.

Also, antis always like to use the excuse of "we don't know what's going on with Elucien, we'll know more in their POV" but then with their whole chest, like to say how Azriel didn't at all help Elain before Feyre was there.

How. Do. You. Know. That?

Feyre = Narrator. No narrator present = we don't know what happened! It's simple? You can't make that point with such confidence if you don't know.

You also can't say "Oh why didn't she get better without Feyre and why didn't Azriel figure it out before?" Because why tf would SJM write such an important part of her plot off page, without our narrator (Feyre) being there to witness it?? What tells a greater story:

Readers being witness to the depressive state of Elain, her confusion, her ramblings, then Azriel figuring out she's a Seer and she immediately gets better

OR

Readers apparently come to know that while Feyre was out, Elain went crazy depressive but now she's fine because Azriel figured out she's a Seer now (whatever that means) don't worry? Why even mention it then? That would be 2 paragraphs of text vs. multiple chapters. Where would be the drama, the intrigue?

Come on people. Please stop with the reaches. It is getting very tiring how you are twisting canon moments and being flat out incorrect with canon to prove your weak points.

Like, one of the Eluciens biggest argument is about "Elain saying she needs sunshine" and Lucien saying "She needs the sun." When he literally does not say that? He says she needs fresh air. Sure he is the Heir to Day Court, but he's not the HL yet. He doesn't even know that yet. His symbolism has always been flames, not sunshine.

Why should we take anything seriously when their "canon backed evidence" is wrong?

Also just as a fun little ending to this super chaotic post: here's a cutesy snippet I found in ACOWAR about Azriel's shadows when he calms himself down (aka them disappearing is also not bad for the millionth time)

The shadows lightened ... into sunshine.

But please, keep talking about how Elain needs the sun and Azriel needs someone to handle his darkness and yada yada yada. 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[herbeloved82]

Love through Time (Bed of roses and thorns)

Written with the amazing @complicitsacrilege we offer you a different couple this time....

I am Seth, the Golden Prince they called me a long time ago, when I was still a child in my naivety. 

I was born in the lands of the great rivers, where life and prosperity were brought by the waters and the floods every year were celebrated as interventions from the gods themselves. I won’t say those lands’ names for all of you are too young to remember and the ancient pronunciation has been lost for millennia now. 

I was the son of King Enkil and his Queen, Akasha. I was born to rule and trained to do so since I was old enough to walk. They were gods in the eyes of humans, as was I, despite being brought up in their shadows. I watched them conquer village after village, city after city, land after land, and I learned.

I learned many things about myself and what I was, what we all were. Enkil and Akasha had been mortals, once upon a time. Cursed to the blood by a powerful being who sought revenge for the one he loved. 

Then they were monsters, blood drinkers, doomed to a half life only lived at night. They thrived in this new nature. Their innate cruelty finally fed by the new lust they discovered. The world was thrown into wars and chaos and they ruled upon it all. 

They were mated.

Such a strange word to indicate the bond between souls. The power of a bond was, and still is, the most inexplicable of all the secrets my kind keep. So powerful that it can destroy the wall of silence between Master and fledgling, it is one of those things of which no one speaks freely. 

When I was reborn, the secret was bestowed upon me: a new guardian for the most powerful weapon, one that could control even the strongest of us. 

How I wished they never shared it with me. If I had been ignorant I wouldn’t have been foolish enough to look for the one creature born for me, and perhaps I wouldn’t have found him, and left him exposed to their violence. 

I found my mate in a young physician who had cared for me when I was merely a prince with all the trappings of mortality. 

Fareed, my Imi-ib. Beloved. That was his title. One I would have cherished for all eternity.

I loved him, and he loved me. We kept our love a secret, something precious and only for us. But then I was turned and the secret became even more dangerous to keep, and all the more important. 

Until the night I lost everything. 

Akasha found us, in a secret chamber and came with guards and fury in her eyes. 

My beloved was taken from me that night. The things they did to him before he died in my arms I will never forget. 

Just as I never forgot who took him from me. 

They taught me that loyalty was rewarded with even deeper commission, but only the worst kind of revenge was reserved for betrayal. So I took everything from them, as they did to me. 

They loved to be worshiped as gods, so I took them away, hid them in a magnificent golden temple that I buried in sand. So deeply no one would ever find them again. A grave where their bodies, now akin to statues, would be forever. 

They loved power, and I took everything they had for myself. I expanded my kingdom through the lands of the whole earth. 

One by one newborn kingdoms fell under my influence and power. There is no place I can’t reach. No man I can’t break, no ruler who hadn’t been destroyed by me. 

I took their firstborns. 

I took their thrones. 

I took everything I wanted by the mere measure of my army and the fear that view inspires.

Of those boys and girls I always demanded as payment, some are now part of my army. Some are so old they are called children of the millennia, like I am. Some have been food for my men, and the others have been turned into objects for their entertainment.

The pain of my loss would have driven me to insanity eons ago otherwise, and I would have sought eternal refuge in the ground, leaving the world to pass on above.

So why do I still rule over these lands instead of rotting below?

The answer is simple. 

Even if my kind was born from a curse, we were also given a second chance. Sometimes, when a bond is broken, there is a chance that what was once lost can again be returned.

Incarnated in another body, with another history and even another name, but we will always be able to recognize our mate. 

That is why I am the one who remains.

[lsdjrn]

SUMMARY

Henry chimes confidently, “Well, I'm betting that y'all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun's up, we'll show you one.”

Ellie wordlessly glanced at Joel, but he’s staring back at Javier instead. Two pairs of dark brown orbs dancing in suspicion. Javier breaks eye contact first. He stands up, staggers a little as he leaves the room.

“Whatever your answer is, you’ll say yes anyway.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

“Javier, please. Save who you can save.”

Palms sweating, numb fingers wrapped with racked anxiety as Javier tried to lower his Beretta. But his arms were locked in place, forced to point at a blank spot between his best friend’s piercing blue eyes. Javier could not bring himself to back up an inch, as a sticky crimson liquid pooled near their feet started touching the tip of his shoes. A lifeless body crumpled on the floor, unruly golden hair covering her face. Javier didn’t even want to glance at it.

“Steve, we can… I don’t think-”

“You know what the fuck these things are. And how the damage will eat up my body soon, just like Connie,” Steve hissed, his grip on Javier tightened even more, forcing him to raise the weapon again. He took a glimpse at the corpse, “End it now and go find the light. I’d see you soon.”

Steve’s fingers closing around his. Everything moved in slow blur.

Getting used to waking up from an unpleasant throwback in darkness is much less of a hassle these days, but Javier still finds that his fight-or-flight response keeps nagging him at times. He sits up carefully, wincing as his half-swollen right ankle screams in pain again. Javier groans. There is an unusual chilly air tickling his skin, accompanied by the ticking of his watch under the pillow, moving in a repetitive rhythm. Glancing at the empty blankets beside him–

“Shit. Henry?”

Flashes of the worst possibilities Javier always feared come to his mind.

Javier musters his energy to shake off the sleepiness out of him. Quickly he gathers his weapon and flashlight, running as fast as his limp leg allows.

After years pleading to any deities he thought existed in the world, this crumbled universe has started sending Javier surprises he doesn’t need anymore. Absentmindedly reaching into his back pocket, Javier mutters an unintelligible curse. Damn, how could he forget that he ran out of the last cigarette stocks yesterday?

Javier slides on the floor, staring at the two outsiders–one of whom bears an uncanny resemblance of his own face. He feels burnt out, and now Javier doesn’t even try to hide the exhaustion. The other person, a young girl, is eyeing him with a mix of amusement and caution before looking back at her companion. Father and daughter? Oh, what a sweet bonding time.

“Sam, how many times do I have to tell you that if your brother is trying to do something possibly dangerous, wake me up immediately,” Javier signs to the boy. Sam shrugs a little, continuing to munch his food but then he nudges Henry, who purposely avoids Javier’s gaze.

“Dude you still tryin' to play hero? You can’t even walk properly!” Henry protests.

“It’s temporary, and besides, I can't guarantee the safety of your actions when unsupervised by me. You’re lucky these people weren’t harming you.” Javier turned to the strangers, “I’m Javier. These are Henry, and Sam. He is eight.”

The teenager answered first, “Cool. I’m Ellie.”

She slaps the older man’s knee, causing Javier to almost snort at that gesture.

“I'm Joel. Look, you ate, we didn't kill each other,  let's call this a win-win and move on.”

If they encountered each other during the period of time where Javier fought and traveled for himself after going through too many losses, Joel would have been right. People without significant purposes of teaming up were better that way, or so Javier thought. However, as Javier struggles to keep Henry and Sam alive and escape this hellish city, Joel and Ellie’s presence becomes a star-crossed miracle. Especially with his recent careless slip ups, all Javier got were a sprained ankle and bleeding leg. One silver bullet found its way to his thigh, which definitely freaked Henry out because they all tried to perform the surgery with only a small amount of knowledge. Javier’s acts definitely planted extra hatred in their ultimate pursuer.

The prime days were over. He is nothing but a grumpy mustached guy now.

“Well, I'm betting that y'all came up here to get a view of the city and plan a way out. And when the sun's up, we’ll show you one. How’s that sound?” Henry offers.

“Um…” Ellie looks at Joel, but he’s staring back at Javier instead. Two pairs of dark brown orbs danced in suspicion. “I think we-”

“Whatever your answer is, you’ll say yes anyway.”  Javier abruptly stands up, excusing himself.

He staggers a little as he leaves the room.

“Welcome to Killa City.”

Through his yellow-tinted aviator sunglasses, Javier just realized how small Henry is in comparison to him, Joel, and the large windows in this building. But one thing Javier has always been proud of about Henry is his unwavering bravery from the first time they met, even when Henry silently told him how Joel's "asshole voice" creeped him out yesterday. Javier smiled a bit at his comment. Why should Henry feel that way when Joel is basically a copy of him?

It was a silly question to which Henry replied comically, “Jav, he ain’t on your level of suaveness.”

Thanks to the better lighting this morning, Javier can finally see more details of Joel’s face as Henry does most of the talking. There are curls, salt-and-pepper beards, rugged days carved in wrinkles, and probably a bunch of repressed motives under a guarded gaze. What a familiar callback to a reflection in Javier’s own dirty, cracked mirror. Intriguing.

“No FEDRA,” said Joel.

“Not as of 10 days ago, no,” Henry hums.

“We always heard KC FEDRA was…”

“Monsters? You are right,” Javier interjects, “Raped and tortured and murdered people for 20 years.”

Henry continues, “And you know what happens when you do that to people? The moment they get a chance, they do it right back to you.”

“But you're not FEDRA.” Joel raises his eyebrows, something doesn’t seem clicking with the way these two strangers do their function inside the city.

They both share a look before Javier slowly shakes his head, “No. Me and Henry, we’re collaborators-”

“I don't work with rats.”

“Yeah, you fսcking do! Today you do 'cause we live here and you don't. We know this city, and that's how we’re gonna help you get out,” Henry spits out, though his trembling voice doesn’t indicate an ounce of certainty in it.

Joel doesn’t look convinced at all. "Why? You have your cool friend."

“We saw what you did, the way you killed those men. And what a coincidence, I failed a flee attempt, was shot, and broke an ankle” Javier shrugs, ignoring the mocking tone. “Generally fucked up. More reasons we need strong backup.” 

Ellie and Sam’s laughter suddenly rings out, turning their heads at the same time. The two kids are engrossed in some kind of cheap joke book compilation. Javier’s softening gaze towards them doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel.

“Haven't heard that in a long time.”

Henry simply nods at his friend’s comment.

 Meanwhile, Joel sighs. This is getting nowhere if none of them make a decision. Despite everything, he has his own mission to go, and technically Joel is not obliged to keep them company after getting out of Kansas. Besides, it's always easy to remove unwanted danger along the way.

 “So Javier, how are we gettin' out?

The first time his name finally rolls off Joel's mouth, it carries a bitter sarcasm.

NEXT: 1.2. ARUNIKA

swastamita = sunset (sanskrit). the end is the same for everyone = lyrics excerpt from nothing but thieves' song, "six billion". Dividers credit: cafekitsune || saradika

[ssadumba55]

Loving a Princess (Princess Merida X Fem!Reader)

Request: Could you do Princess Merida x fem!Reader one shot? Maybe Merida is little annoyed because Reader is not very good at archery but then she found out that Reader is great in making weapons or making it ever better and more comfortable for their user. Extra point to u, if u add a scene where Reader is blushing because Merida's face is so close to her face and Merida is blushing because she thinks she really won't choose a husband (because she likes Reader). Thank u so much!

You had been Merida’s best friend ever since the two of you were small. While you weren’t a princess (you were one of the servant’s daughter), that didn’t stop the fiery red head from forming a strong and long-lasting bond with you. The two of you were inseparable, you did everything together.

Well, almost everything. You had never tried to do archery. Merida was amazing at archery; she could shoot almost any target she set her heart and eyes on. Being slightly clumsy yourself, you couldn’t see yourself ever being able to master the grace and form Merida had when she shot arrows.

Still, the princess was making you try it anyway. It was the night before her suitors were to arrive and you had agreed to let her teach you, if only for her to stop dramatically storming about the castle complaining loudly about her mother. She could be such a drama queen sometimes.

“Ye’re not paying attention, are ye?’ Merida placed her hands on her hips, she was holding up the bow, showing you all the different parts and exactly how to hold it. Sheepishly, you shrugged.

“Apologies, your majesty,” you grinned cheekily, watching as she rolled her eyes and handed you the bow.

“Don’t call me that,” she grumbled under her breath as she began to guide your hands to where they should be. You swallowed slightly, letting her move your hands to the exact position. When she was satisfied with how you held the bow, she pulled out an arrow and notched it for you, showing you where to pull back on the string.

“This doesn’t feel right,” you mumbled, feeling the ache already in your muscles. Merida rolled her eyes again. She did that way too much, especially around you.

“It’s not yer bow, so of course it’s going to feel a little weird, give it a go anyway,” she gestured to the target she’d set up a little way away. If you could shrug, you would. But your fingers and arms were currently on fire from holding the position of the bow for too long. Merida shouted something about relaxing and you wanted to curse at her, how were you supposed to relax when your arms were being stretched in positions they weren’t supposed to be in?

You did as she instructed finally, releasing the arrow, and watching as it flew forward, missing the target. You let yourself relax, dropping the bow and letting out a sigh of relief as your muscles thanked you.

The princess, however, was not happy with this at all. She picked up her bow and handed it back to you, clearly determined to at least help you hit the target once.

“How about I guide ye this time, that way ye can see how it’s supposed ta feel,” she handed the bow back to you and once more guided your fingers to where they were supposed to be.

You moved your eyes from focusing on the bow to watch Merida as she set about making sure your hands were in the proper place. Her tongue was stuck out and she was one hundred percent focused. It was nice to see her so passionate about something, even if it was something you were clearly utterly garbage at.

She must’ve felt you staring, because at that moment she looked up meeting your eyes.

Her face flushed and you could feel heat creeping up into yours, the two of you were so close. Plus, you’d just been caught staring at her. The princess. Obviously, everyone stared at her, but you were pretty sure it was for different reasons. Everyone else stared at her because she was loud, and they figured her a klutz. You stared at her, however, because you thought she was the most beautiful person in the room. Even Lady Elinor paled in comparison.

When you were younger, you’d envied her for her beauty, now you admired it.

Meanwhile, Merida was having much the same thoughts as you. She had already decided from the moment her mother had told her about her suitors that she would not be betrothed to one of them, but now she fully understood why. Of course, she couldn’t marry any of them because her heart already belonged to you! It always had and always would.

“Merida!” A voice called from the castle. It snapped the two of you out of your moment. Because the voice was feminine, you assumed it was her mother. She looked at you sheepishly as she stepped away. You smiled softly.

“Go see what your mother wants, I’ll tidy up out here. This was fun, we should do it again sometime… You know, before you’re married and all,” the words hung between the two of you, dampening the mood slightly. The princess smiled back at you, though it was slightly strained.

“I’ll see ye tomorrow, (Y/n),” she hurried off as her mother once more called out to her, leaving you alone with the bow, the arrows, and the target. A sense of pride filled you at this though, you were the only one besides her father she trusted to leave alone with her prized possession.

As you picked up the arrows, you eyed the bow for a moment. It had been a while since you’d worked on a weapon and nothing like a bow, but you were sure you could probably make one if you tried hard enough….

________________________________________________________

Merida was having an awful day. Her mother had put her in this awful dress, all the suitors were horrible and worst of all, she hadn’t seen (Y/n) at all. The games were to start the next day, in particular the competition in which the suitors would vie for her hand in marriage.

She had an idea… They’d said only the first born of a royal family could compete… she was the first born of her family. She wondered what you’d think of the idea as she changed out of that horrible dress (it was so ugly). Just as she was pulling her own comfortable dress on, the door barged open and she turned, about to scream, when she saw it was you.

You had something in your hands, covered and you shyly held it out to her.

“Sorry I couldn’t make it to the arrival of the suitors. I was working on this, as a present for you,” you held what was in your hands out for her to take. She did and unwrapped it to reveal, another bow.

Sure, the bow from her father was special and would always hold a special place in her heart, but this one was from you. The girl she maybe sort of fancied.

“Where did ye get this? It’s so light and it feels great… Did ye spend yer money on me?” She asked, suddenly worried. She really didn’t want you to feel like you had to get her special gifts for her to care for you. She was already head over heels anyway.

“N- No. I made it, Merida,” you suddenly felt your face heating up again. Oh god, this was so embarrassing. She has a bow she doesn’t need a new one. Why did you do this…

She wrapped her arms around you, before you could excuse yourself or say anything else.

“I love it, (Y/n). Looks like ye really are talented at something after all!” She grinned, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. God, this princess was going to be the death of you. She needed to stop being so cute when she was getting betrothed tomorrow.

“Hey! I’m talented at a lot of things, archery is just not one of them,” you pouted, and she laughed. At least for this moment you could just pretend it would always be the two of you.

[captain039]

We can take care of each other

Hank x reader x Connor

Warnings: ABO, poly relationship, swearing, police things, Intimate, sexual, harassment, Daddy Hank, anxiety, angst, domestic from cases, other criminal things

Ah when you can’t decide between daddy and baby boy 🤷🏻‍♀️

Reeds a dick

After deviant revolution

You stared at the dead body on the ground disgusted. Seems people still had it out for people.

“What we got?” You heard Hanks voice. You stood by him and Connor by you probably analysing the body.

“Dave Frank, 29, alpha male, worked at the little shop on this street called human goods” you frowned at the weird name.

“Ok” Hank took the tablet from the officer.

“Looks like he had a partner, 25 omega female Chelsey Lilac” your stomach sank a little. No matter how far in life you got, omegas will always be looked down on.

“Possible suspect?” Hank asked and the officer nodded. Hank handed you the tablet and you went through the briefing. Connor looked also as you scrolled through.

“We’ve got signs of struggle, signs of a possible fight, neighbours complain there is lots of yelling and crashing on this place” Officer Chris sighed.

“Domestic” you muttered and he nodded. You hated these cases, omegas trapped with an alpha they can’t escape from without some serious form of damage.

You hand fisted tightly, you needed air or something. You felt a hand go around yours and frowned looking to Connor. He looked at the body though and intertwined your fingers together. You clenched his hand tightly without realising finding some comfort in it.

“Stinks in here” Hank grumbled going outside. You let go of Connors hand and followed. You took a deep breath in of fresh air and sighed. You looked over the backyard, it hadn’t been taken care of in years. It smelt of rain, wet dirt and-

You frowned catching the scent of a frightened omega.

“Hank go inside” you said and he frowned.

“What? why?” The man asked.

“Just do it” you snapped and he raised his hands up and went inside.

You looked around noticing a shadow behind the large slip bin.

“Hello?” You said softly going closer.

You saw scared eyes shine in the light.

“Chelsey?” You asked and she nodded. You stood a meter away she was shaking and drenched from rain and mud.

“My names Detective Y/n” you said softly glancing to the door which Hank stood at staring at you.

“I didn’t mean too” she sobbed coming into the light.

“I-“ she stuttered as you glanced to the knife in her hand. She had blood on her, wounds on her head and arms old and new.

“Here” she handed you the knife and you stuttered.

“Y/n” Hank called you and she fled.

“He’s gonna hurt me” she whispered.

“All alphas are cruel” she added and you felt your heart clench.

“It’s alright” you said looking to Hank. You laid the weapon on the ground.

“I need you to stay there though please” you added and Hank frowned but stopped. You saw Connor come out the door also.

“Connor, stay there” you said and he frowned but stayed also.

“Two?” She whispered.

“Are you trapped?” You frowned at her questioned.

“Am I trapped?” You asked.

“Two alphas” she said.

“No, Connor isn’t an alpha, he’s-“ you couldn’t call him an android.

“He’s a deviant” you said.

“Oh” the girl muttered.

“One alpha” she added eyes darting. She was in shock, no doubt about that.

“He’s big” she said scared.

“Does he hurt you too? We can run!” She stood and grabbed you.

“No- no he doesn’t hurt me, he isn’t my alpha” you said holding the young woman’s arms.

“Doesn’t hurt you?” She said confused looking to him.

“Not yours” she mumbled.

“Chelsey I need you to come with me” you said and she tensed.

“Away from here” you added.

“Away” she repeated.

“Away” she nodded holding onto you. You tensed as she held you, she wanted comfort from another omega. She shook in your hold, both wet now from the rain, blood smeared on you also.

“Come on” you said softly leading her around the house and to a car.

“No alphas” you said as one went to get in. She nodded backing away and got a beta.

“I’ll see you at the station” you said to Chelsey and she nodded.

You sagged drained, your body was shaking from the cold, emotions haywire.

“Good job” You heard Hanks voice. You turned to him and he frowned. You wiped your eyes realising you were crying and went to his car. You and Connor had hitched a ride. You hid behind it the best you could from across the street. You took deep breaths and cursed softly.

Hank had followed you, worry in his eyes as you began to pace.

“Y/n” he called but you didn’t listen.

“Omega” you froze on the spot. Hank sighed as he stood in front of you, you stared at the ground shaking. He grabbed the back of your neck and tugged you close. You sighed leaning your head against his shoulder. He gently massaged the back of your neck while you calmed down.

“Hank?” You heard Connor call before hearing him behind you.

“Is everything alright?” He asked and you smiled faintly, he still didn’t understand humans.

“Just worked up” Hank said and you moved to rest your cheek on him instead. You wrapped your arms around him without thinking, enjoying his warmth and smell.

“Very worked up” he muttered. You felt a warm hand on your back and glanced to Connor who offered a kind smile.

“You’re freezing detective” he said softly and you nodded.

“No shit” you said softly.

“Lieutenant?” Someone called and you tensed.

“Oh-“ the officer stood a little awkward.

“Connor” Hank said and you frowned.

“I’ll be back” he said to you rather softly and you nodded. You looked to Connor after letting go, you shuddered, your teeth chattering.

“I can warm you up detective” he said and you flushed.

“I have inbuilt heaters, see?” He took your hand and rested it on his stomach. You frowned at the amount of warmth coming from him.

“Please don’t blow up” you muttered going closer.

“I can assure you I won’t” he smiled and you nodded.

“I suggest you put your arms around me detective” he said after your awkward stance.

“Oh- Connor the reason I did that to Hank-“ you trailed off embarrassed.

“He’s an alpha” Connor said and you nodded sighing.

“I’ve bonded to him in a sense so he’s my source of comfort is all, just don’t tell him that” you muttered slowly putting your arms around the android. You sighed feeling his warmth seeping through.

“I should take you everywhere” you said without thinking and rested your cheek on his chest.

“You’re so warm” you hummed contently. You tensed slightly when one hand rested on your back and the other on your neck.

“The lieutenant did this” Connor said softly as he massaged your neck lightly.

“Calms me down” you mumbled.

Your heart was pounding but you didn’t want to let go of him. To be honest you had bonded to both of them in a sense, your little family, just you couldn’t tell them. When you weren’t around them it was lonely, you felt empty almost, you had gotten use to be alone when you left home, but when you met Hank it just crumbled.

“Right-“ Hank had come back and obviously stood shocked.

“I have inbuilt heaters” Connor said simply.

“You should feel how warm he is” you said chuckling.

“Jesus” Hank muttered shaking his head.

“Come on let’s get you home” he sighed.

“What about paper work?” You let Connor go and looked to Hank.

“What about it? Do it tomorrow” he shrugged and you smiled slightly.

As you pulled up to your house you got everyone inside and out of the rain.

“Curse this weather” you said turning on your lights.

“Where’s the damn remote!” You yelled in the lounge rummaging.

“Heater on” Connor said and it turned on.

“Oh” you muttered.

“I forgot it could do that” you said.

“You want a towel?” You asked them both. Connor nodded while Hank shrugged.

You went to your cupboard and pulled out some towels. You gave the two men some and one for yourself.

“I need a warm shower and PJ’s” you said cursing sticky clothes.

“Detective?” Connor asked.

“Yeah?” You said.

“Is it alright if I stay here tonight?” He asked and you frowned. Usually he stayed with Hank.

“Yeah if you want too” you shrugged.

“You wanna sleep over too Hank?” You grinned at him and he glared.

“Fuck you” he said and you laughed.

“I need a drink” he muttered running a hand down his face. You looked a little too long, wet hair slicked back down from him pushing it out the way, clothes drenched defining his surprising body sculpture.

“There should be some in the cupboard” you said.

“It’s alright I need to change clothes” he said hanging your towel on the kitchen chair.

“Goodnight lieutenant” Connor said.

“Night” Hank waved.

You followed him out and stood under your veranda.

“You be ok with him?” Hank turned back to you.

“Connor? Yeah” you said and he nodded.

“You ok?” He added and you nodded.

“I’ll-“ you shrugged.

“Get through it” you sighed. Hank sighed like he wanted to say something, he stood a little tense before leaving to his car. Your heart sank a bit and gave a small wave before heading inside.

“I have to shower” you said looking for Connor.

“Connor?” You called hearing water running. You went to your bathroom and frowned seeing him pouring a bath.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he stood.

“Running you a bath” he said. Your heart swelled at the thought.

“I don’t normally take baths” you chuckled and he frowned.

“But I’ll jump in” you added quickly.

“I’ve noted it for next time” he nodded and you frowned next time?

“Thanks” you said again softly as it filled.

“I don’t know what clothes to give you, you could try a pair of PJ pants and top, I always buy mine too big” you said.

“I won’t intrude on your personal belongings detective” he said.

“Oh- right” you mumbled embarrassed.

“Let me get you some hang on” you walked to your bedroom. Connor followed but stayed by the door as you shifted through clothes.

“Uh try these” you said handing him a pair of plain grey PJ’s.

“You’ll need a towel” you moved passed him and grabbed a fresh towel.

“Uh, put your clothes-“ you looked around.

“In the basket” you said grabbing the washing basket.

“I’ll hang them up after my bath” you said and he nodded.

“Alright” you said.

“I’ll be ok detective” Connor smiled.

“Ok” you smiled going to the bath.

You sunk into the water and sighed the warmth soothing your muscles.

Your eyes closed as you thought back to the case, the young woman had gripped your tightly, when she asked if you were trapped, you were confused. Hank wasn’t your alpha and Connor was, well Connor. You tried not to think about it as the water started to go cold.

You drained the bath and hoped out drying yourself. You forgot to bring clothes you realised and cursed. You peeked out the door and saw Connor on the couch. You quickly snuck to your bedroom and closed your door.

You got dressed and did your hair up messily before heading back out.

“Did they fit?” You asked as he stood. You held back a laugh at how the shirt looked like a big crop top on him.

“Is something funny?” He asked confused and you laughed.

“You look like some sport obsessed teenager” you laughed.

“I’m sorry Con” you said smiling.

“I’m afraid they’re a bit small” he smiled.

“If it’s too uncomfortable take the shirt off” you spoke without thinking again.

“When I’m in bed” you added quickly as he gripped the hem. You glanced to your pull out couch, did he sleep? Power down? Something.

“Do you want a bed?” You asked.

“I don’t require a bed” he said and you frowned slightly.

“But I’d like one” he smiled.

“Alright” you chuckled shaking your head. You struggled with the pull out bed, it finally click and swung out a bit to quick.

“Fuck!” You said tensing as it unfolded itself.

“They really should put warnings on these things” you mumbled. You went to the cupboard and found some sheets and unused pillows.

You set his bed up as he watched intently.

“Right, you want a blanket?” You asked.

“Just have a blanket” you added quickly knowing he would say something like he didn’t require one but wanted one.

“What’s the time” you muttered glancing to your band.

“1 in the morning” you groaned.

“I’m going to bed, make yourself comfortable, I don’t know what you do with Hank” you said nervously chuckling.

“Thank you detective” he said sitting down.

“Y/n” you said and he frowned.

“You can call me Y/n out of work I’ve told you this” you chuckled softly.

“Well, goodnight Y/n” he said and you felt your heart skip.

“Goodnight Connor” you smiled heading to bed.

You laid awake for a while a smile on your face, Connor was adorable in things he did, still learning human emotions and how to speak like one, it was funny. You didn’t expect Hank to embrace you like that either, you melted in it though, you felt like you were in heaven despite the depressing rain and situation. His hand felt nice on your neck gently massaging, his natural scent had seeped through the alcohol and the smell of Sumo on his clothes. Connor had a fresh smell you guess, his clothes were always clean unless soaked in the rain. A neutral scent almost, it was nice for a change. Slumber eventually took you, the sound of rain lulling you to a deep sleep.

Next Chapter ->

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. nine.

eight < current > ten

Dec. 24, 2017

You make yourself comfortable on the rooftop, debating if you should go ahead and text your brother. He would be almost as disappointed as you were; Satoru had taken to calling himself the captain of your ship with Yuta and Toge, even coming up with a nickname that incorporated shortened versions of all three names. You sigh, deciding it’s probably best to not text him. He’s likely already worried about leaving you in charge, no need to add a worry about something that isn’t deadly.

A sudden yell disrupts your thoughts and you jump into position, nocking an arrow and aiming towards the scream. You hitch your breath at the sight: Geto is striding into your school alone, leaving a trail of headless assistants behind him. One of the bodies is familiar and you recognize her as the assistant that gave you chocolate with a bright smile after a mission with unfortunate timing left you covered in curse blood and your own. She didn't flinch or offer pity - just a single chocolate kiss. Now she is covered in gore and blood, her previously pristine white shirt coated with her own brain matter.

You feel your resolve hardens. Geto is a curse-user, a human at his core, but he also is a monster. The arrow flies an accurate course but the man dodges, leaving it to embed itself into the wall instead of his torso. He turns to your rooftop, calling out, “Ah, (y/n)! And here I thought your brother would lock you in a tower.” Geto unleashes a grade-one curse that looks similar to a wolf and sends it after you. He is infuriatingly unbothered by your presence and continues his steady gait into the school grounds.

You start running across the rooftops, jumping over gaps and dodging the curse’s attempts to bite you. The rooftop tiles bite into your hands and knees. It faintly registers that a nail broke when you almost missed a jump, narrowly avoiding falling to the ground.

Satoru didn’t say how long to keep this secret, but you assume now is a good time to give Maki and Yuta a heads-up. You spot Maki stepping away from a classroom, so you run there, drawing the curse after you. On the roof next to where she stands, you plant your feet and turn, suddenly drawing your katana and slicing at the wolf. It draws back, avoiding your attack before lunging suddenly. Its claws sink into your leg. You cry out in pain, falling to your knees. When the curse lunges again, this time aiming for your throat, you fall on your back and thrust your blade into its stomach. You force the blade down its body with a grunt, disemboweling the creature. The teeth around your throat loosen, but the dead weight of the curse dropping on you prevents you from getting up immediately. Guts slide out and onto you and you suppress a gag. You feel a lot like Carrie on prom night.

When you finally stagger to your feet, you see Maki has engaged Geto in a fight that she’s obviously losing. You cry her name and rush to her side. She doesn’t get a chance to acknowledge you as Geto, in one fluid moment, breaks her weapon and sends her flying. She falls to the ground as a ragdoll, bleeding heavily from her side and head. You watch her body land, horrified, before you’re snapped back into the fight rudely.

Geto is now the closest to you he’s been since you were a child, frightened and unable to communicate with the people around you. He feels some long-forgotten sense of pity as he slides the blade of his knife further into your stomach. “W-wh-?” You look at the handle sticking out of your body curiously, blood starting to leak from the corner of your mouth. The pain hasn’t begun to register but your body understands that you are unable to fight. You faint, missing the entrance of Panda and Toge by a few precious seconds.

When Yuta comes out from the classroom, he isn’t sure what he’s expecting to find. He felt a few earthquakes and thought it best to find you and Maki to wait out any aftershocks together. Yuta was sure it was to be a little awkward after his rejection, but also wanted to be sure you were okay. He didn’t expect to find you covered in blood, the same cute gym clothing you were wearing that morning when he rejected you ruined. A quick glance around and he sees the rest of his classmates, his friends, in similar form. Inumaki is clinging to consciousness.

Geto, the one who grabbed Yuta months earlier, stands surrounded by the bodies, hardly winded. “I truly wanted you to live, Okkotsu, but this is for the future of jujutsu.” Yuta wonders how he can fight this man. How can he protect his friends, the only ones to give him a chance since Rika, when Geto already destroyed the strongest people he knew. He was so, so weak compared to each of them.

Inumaki desperately calls a slurred version of his name and says, “Run away.” The fact that the command does nothing, that Yuta feels nothing, breaks him from his spiral. He summons Rika in a rage.

“I am going to kill you!” He declares. Yuta doesn’t think he has ever felt such anger and despair, the feeling of watching Rika die now multiplied by four.

Geto simply says, “You are going to die.”

-

A sudden pull on your stomach wakes you harshly. “Shit!” Your eyes snap open, to see a sheepish Panda holding the knife that was previously in your stomach. You automatically go to apply pressure on the wound but your hands find Maki’s already there, dressing the wound. “What happened?”

“The fight’s over, but we need to find Yuta,” Maki explains. “He must have healed all of us, but you still had the blade in you. It needed to be removed before you get up. All of us are going to be fine, (y/n), you can rest now.” She helps you to your feet and you cringe looking at your ruined outfit. Maki catches your pout and smiles, glad some things never change.

Toge comes to your side to take Maki’s place as your crutch. You hug him tightly, unable to express in words how relieved you are. He hugs back, equally overwhelmed after seeing what seemed like your corpse. Toge helps you limp along as you all start tracking Yuta’s residuals. Panda clears his throat and asks, “When did this happen?”

“Only a few days ago. Don’t act like you didn’t see this coming,” you explain with an eye-roll.

“No, I totally did. Just curious who won the bet.”

“If we didn’t just fight for our lives, I would kill you.” You four continue to try to have a light conversation until you come upon Yuta’s unconscious body. Toge helps you sit on the ground and you move his head onto your lap, muttering about checking for a concussion. All of you needed medical attention but you were desperate to help any way you could now.

Yuta begins to blink his eyes open and sits up urgently. “Your wounds… Panda! Your arm!” He seems to be working himself into a frenzy. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder as Panda explains that everyone will be okay. Yuta urgently looks over you, trying to determine how much blood was yours, before he seems satisfied.

“Thank you for saving us,” You whisper. His eyes fill with tears and you wonder how scared he must have been. You maintain eye contact, hoping to communicate how much you admire him, before Rika’s jumbled voice makes the both of you jump. Yuta stands, leaving the circle your class formed around him.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Rika,” he says, approaching her.

“What’s wrong?” Maki asks, a little fearful at how resigned Yuta looks.

Yuta hums a little before answering, “In exchange for her power, I promised to go with her.”

“What?” You screech and the suddenness of the yell pains your wound. Your classmates join a chorus of disagreement. Panda and Inumaki both grab fistfuls of his shirt to prevent him from walking any closer to Rika. Instead of her usual retaliation for someone restraining Yuta, her form just falls away to reveal a young girl. Four of you are confused but Yuta just mumbles, “Rika?”

A clapping distracts from the drama. You turn as best you can with a hole in your stomach to see your brother without any eye wear approaching your group. “Congrats. You broke the curse,” he continues to clap and stands next to you.

“Who’re you?” Yuta and Maki ask, causing you to snort before you groan at the pain.

Your brother pouts before replying, “Everyone’s favorite good-looking Gojo-sensei. Do you not see the sibling resemblance?” He gestures between your face and his, before carefully putting you on his back. He doesn’t even flinch at the grime covering you transferring onto him as well, relieved to see you awake and alert. You rest your chin on his shoulder and listen to him explain.

“I thought Yuta was interesting, so I looked into his lineage. Apparently, you’re a descendant of Michizane Sugawara. So, super-distant, but we’re relatives!” You groan and hide your face in Satoru’s neck; the teasing to come will be unbearable.

Your classmates look dumbfounded at the information while Yuta just goes, “Who?”

“One of Japan’s big three vengeful spirits.”

“A big-shot sorcerer.”

“Tuna.”

“The annoying side of the family,” you add.

Your brother takes back control of the conversation. “Yuta, you’re right. Rika isn’t cursing you, you cursed her. When the curser severs the bond tying servant to master and the cursed doesn’t desire punishment, the curse is broken. Though it seems you figured that out by yourself.” He gestures at the little girl and Yuta.

“Oh my god,” Yuta collapses in tears. “It’s all my fault…. Hurting so many people, Geto coming after me, it’s all my - all my -” He begins to hyperventilate. Inumaki takes a step to comfort him, but before he can, Rika approaches and hugs his trembling form.

“Thank you, Yuta. For giving me time and letting me be by your side. I’ve been happier these past six years than I ever was alive. Good-bye, be well. And don’t come over too soon, ‘kay?” She gives a bright smile, toothy and pure as she dissolves into bright ashes. Yuta stares at where she stood, long after all the ashes disappeared and everyone else walked away.

“See you,” He says to himself, before getting up to follow his friends to Doctor Ieiri.

[zorkaya-moved]

".... my lady, what is your wish for the holy grail?" gold eyes respectfully hold her gaze, the lancer's serious expression more attentive than usual. she already knew his answer, he desired merely to bring his summoner victory... but what about her? he was curious.

@lovedloyalty

My lady this, my lady that. Lancer doesn’t stop reminding her of how noble he is as a person. He is a knight, a fairytale knight she seems too perfect as if he’s come off the pages from the book that little girls love to read and foolishly dream of. He listens to his master’s orders without a hitch, so patient in his noble spirit and strength of character. Though, she doesn’t mind his obedient behavior, there is a need for him to speak his mind. She gets easily bored with those who just follow her every whim, they’re no better than those plushies she hugs when going off to sleep, useless for anything but one thing. But he is a warrior, she expects him to have his opinions and she wants to hear it. Zarina is a selfish woman, a woman who knows what she wants and does not care how others will perceive her for being assertive.

Diarmuid’s question was expected. What would a woman like her, who has everything, even want from this war? Power, beauty, fame, status, money. She has it all, she rules it all, she owns it all. There are countless things she can obtain and so little she doesn’t. Whoever says money cannot buy happiness clearly try to lie themselves in this day and age where everything is ruled by money. Sokolova hums in a thoughtful manner, elbow on the armrest as her chin rests on her gloved palm. Golden eyes look at the servant with a wonder. Does she not know? No, she does, but it’s not what’s expected out of someone like her.

“I wonder,” she says, chuckling softly and looking away. “I have everything I’d ever want.”

Aside from love of another; no, her own ability to love another aside from her family. Maybe that person won’t ever arrive, her special chosen one. That’s not frail worthy nor would Lancer respond to her call if it was something to fickle as an emotion like this, she hoped.

“My family suffers from a curse,” eyes return to the noble spirit, analyzing his reaction yet her relaxed smile hides the coldest, harshest winters. “It gives us powers above and beyond when it comes tm magic, but consumes us if we tap too much into it.”

To be given abilities of spirits — elementals — is a blessing, her ancestors said. They yearned for power above, sacrificing their lineage to suffer and be on top of all yet dancing on the thin like between a beast and a human. Zarina sneered at them, finding their reasons disgusting and them cowards.

“Death is a mercy to us, my brother, my mother and myself. We are beastly weapons in the making, forced to turn into elementals or die prematurely as a human,” she sighs and sits up straight, watching as how snowflakes dance around her gloved fingers like tiny ballerinas. She is bored or indifferent, or she is tense — it’s hard to tell. Lancer must’ve felt how inhumane the man’s supply she provided to him was. “I want to cure this curse, to protect my family, even if it means putting my life on the line. Unlike my twin brother, Lancer, my heart is ever-frigid. I am only able to cling to this humanity of mine through bonds, but my brother? He can survive just fine even if I were gone.”

She will not allow failure, though. No matter what, they’ll reach the final step and they will reach for the grail. Their enemies could be elderly or children for all she cared, but this was war and this was not a game of kids in the back yard. All who must fall��will fall, she will freeze them and shatter them for if she must become a true beast, she will.

“You need to find your own wish, too, Lancer. As much as your loyalty is appreciated, you are a human, too, in my eyes. There must be something you wish for. If it’s something I can give you while you are present here, I will grant it to you,” she waves her hand at the room, but it was more to say that she did mean to grant what he wished from what she had and what she could do. “Or if your wish would only be granted by the Grail, so be it. We fight as one, I do not need you to forget that you are not just my spear, but my comrade in this war. If I wanted a mindless weapon, I would’ve went out to kill others myself without involvement of the Holy Grail. We work together as a team, I will not treat you as anyone less.”

[inupibaldspot]

金継ぎ | KIN-TSUGI [ A Fruits Basket Fanfiction ]

Chapter 9

Tsubaki locked herself in her room for days. Akito would sometimes bang into the door as she cried for Tsubaki to open the door but there was no answer.

Often inside the room, the maids would hear Tsubaki coughing and sometimes moaning in pain, this was the impact off the curse of the servant who was denying her master.

However deep into the night there would be a knock on the door which was answered. Tsubaki only responded to Kureno and no one else. When he entered in room, Tsubaki would embrace him as he whispered comfort into her ear while wiping her tears, as she would then fall asleep in his arms.

However there was one night in particular which was different. Tsubaki was leaning against Kureno's shoulder as she felt a sudden emptiness making her turn her head to look at Kureno.

"You're here with me right now, right Kureno?" Tsubaki cupped his face as her voice trembled. No doubt someone left.

"Of course..." Tsubaki slowly turned away. The feeling she got right now was something she felt years ago, it was when Kureno's curse broke. She closed her eyes as a tear slipped. There was a pain within her as if her heart was ripped apart.

Kureno looked at her as pulled on his shirt, wiping her tears. "What's wrong?" Kureno's voice was gentle.

Tsubaki hesitated to speak but then she leaned into Kureno's chest. "How did you feel when the curse broke?" Someone's curse broke... but unlike Akito, Tsubaki did not know who until she saw the person face to face.

"It felt empty... Till that day I felt someone with me but all of the sudden I felt so alone." Kureno smiled looking at Tsubaki, playing with her hair. "I did not know whether I was sad or happy...frustrated or relieved."

"It is too complex for me to describe..."

"I see...."

 .....

 Tsubaki opened the window to her room. She sighed as she let the fresh air in as she then rested on the window sill.

She was yet to meet Akito or anyone else for that matter. However Tsubaki trembled as she imagined meeting Akito, for now she feels disappointed and hurt at Akito but if she were to meet her personally, Tsubaki knew all of these feelings will dissolve and be replaced with simply affection for Akito. That scared her.

Tsubaki listened to the gentle rustle of the leaves and the gentle breeze on her skin when all of the sudden she heard a commotion.

As much as she didn't listen, it was human nature to pay attention to the noise when an environment is otherwise silent. There seemed to be shouting, Tsubaki wondered if it was Akito.

Did she get into a fight with another zodiac members? Or is she simply throwing a tantrum... Tsubaki thought. Either way she did not want anything to do with it.

However her body betrayed her. Before Tsubaki could even register, she was walking towards the noise and there were continuous whispers I her mind. What if Akito gets hurt?

The scene which was in front of her horrified her. There was Ren who was holding a knife pointing towards Akito. Kureno and two other maids were also present.

Ren's hand shivered as she shouted. "I don't know what of Akira-san's you’re holding but give it back!" Her voice trembling. "It’s mine! Everything of Akira-san's belongs to me."

Tsubaki looked at the object she was referring to only to see a small box in Akito's hands. She vaguely remembered that box was given to Akito by the head maid to comfort the small child when Akira passed away. The head maid said that it contained Akira's soul.

"Mother, Calm down." Tsubaki stepped in. "We can talk this through-"

"Don't come in between me and Akira!" Ren shouted as she pointed the sharp object towards Tsubaki preventing her from taking another step in.

Kureno quickly grabbed Tsubaki as pulled her behind him. "Stay behind me..."

Akito sighed as she pulled a condescending smirk as she walked towards Akira. "If you really want it, I’ll give this stupid thing!" With that Akito threw the box up in the air.

Ren ran towards the box which was on the floor as she eagerly opened it. Her face then turned into a blank expression. "It’s empty..."

"That's right..." Akito smiled as tears slipped from her eyes. She looked away. "It has always been empty-" Akito swiftly turned as grabbed the knife, which was on the ground, as she raised it to stab it into Ren.

Akito suddenly stopped her action as she quickly faced Tsubaki. Tsubaki also had a similar expression. Once again there was a sudden feeling of emptiness. Someone's curse broke... Another end had come.

Ren looked at Akito, who stopped moving all together. "What's wrong? Weren't you going to kill me?"

"Shut up!" The head maid shouted, furious. "Why did you even bring a weapon here?" This caused another fight to break out between the two maids.

Akito slowly walked away leaving the room, looking weak. And when Ren and her maid left, there were only Kureno, Tsubaki and the head maid alone.

"Kureno-san please go to Akito." The head maid requested. "I want to talk to Tsubaki alone." The man gave a worried look but nevertheless agreed.

"Remember Tsubaki! You're supposed to serve Akito." The head maid starts as she looks at Tsubaki.

Tsubaki looked oddly unresponsive and empty. Her mind was still in daze but that did not stop the maid from continuing. "You all are bound by the bond and if you don't act properly you are no different from that monster cat-"

"I want to leave..." Tsubaki spoke.

The head maid gasped in shock. "What type of nonsense are you speaking Tsubaki-san?!"

"I'm honestly very tired..." Tsubaki spoke in a low voice. "Ever since I was young I followed what you taught and did whatever Akito said as if it was a law."

"But then when I was alone in the room for the past few days my mind went everywhere as I imagined all sorts of things." Tsubaki smiled. "I wondered if I had been born into a normal family, I would have known parental love. Spending mornings having breakfast with parents, doing the dishes and even having family outings at time. I always wanted to have something like that."

“I have realized that I have a person I love possibly more than I've loved Akito." Tsubaki wandered her mind to Kureno's gentle smile. She wondered if she left, he would go along with her. "But now I want to move out. I'm far too late for those experiences of my ideal family now but I can give that to my future children... I want to be my own person and build my own family with a person I dearly love...."

"B-but..." The head maid's voice stammered as she hands shaked. "If you were to leave just like the previous people who were bound was the servants you might die!"

Tsubaki turned away as she walked away. "I think...If I were to die while fulfilling that wish, my last thoughts would be 'I'm happy that I'm surrounded with people I love'."

Walking away Tsubaki noticed that it had started raining. The weather made the atmosphere quite dark.

Entering the hallways, she saw Kureno and Akito. They were embracing.

Ah... I forgot. Tsubaki thought as she felt her heart hurt at the sight. Even if I and Kureno were to love each other, we don't belong to one another. We belong to Akito.

Just as Tsubaki was about to walk away from the two Akito suddenly pulls out a knife, the one Ren had brought, as she impaled the object into Kureno's back.

Tsubaki brought her hands to cover her mouth from shock as her whole body went cold.

"Your kindness that half saved and half rejects me...Has been killing me!" Akito pulled away as she shouted. "So take responsibility and pay for it!"

Akito then walked out of the house and into the rain. "Atone with your death!" With those words she runs away.

"Kureno!!!"

Tsubaki rushed to his side, as he limped towards Akito. "Tsubaki... Forget about me. Go to Akito..."

Tsubaki stripped off her outer kimono as she placed it on Kureno's injury to prevent the blood from flowing out. "Don't be stupid!" She shouted as her lips trembled. "I'm not going to leave you."

"Somebody! Is anyone near?!" Tsubaki shouted.

Kureno looked at Tsubaki. The girl was crying as she kept turning her head around to search for the presence of other people. It's seemed as if Tsubaki seemed to be crying a lot these days. He disliked that.

Kureno weakly raised his hands as he cupped her face. "Are you crying for me?" He smiled at his own joke.

"Are you an idiot?! Who else is bleeding in my hands?" Tsubaki shouted. "Of course I'm crying for you."

"I'm happy...." Kureno left his conscious slowly drifting away as his vision started to blank. "Don't worry... I won't leave you... I already planned my future with you..."

Kureno knew he was never Tsubaki's top priority. She always priorities Akito.

Kureno knew Tsubaki's first love wasn't him. It was Hatori.

Kureno knew Tsubaki's kindness towards him. She was kind to all of the zodiacs.

But then more than other zodiacs she loved Akito. She never acted to have a relationship with Hatori even though they clearly loved each other when they were younger. She made sure to crush her feelings for Hatori because she knew Akito would never allow it.

Despite all that, Tsubaki finally turned to Kureno. She knew Akito would hate it yet she accepted Kureno's embrace. Even though she gave up on her love for Hatori, she expressed her love for him, Kureno. Even right now rather than Akito, she chose to stay by his side. Kureno was happy Tsubaki finally picked him over everyone.

 .....

 Tsubaki opened the door to Kureno's hospital room. She stayed there until Kureno regain consciousness after his surgery but was later forced by Kureno and Hatori both to go back home and rest for a while.

Going back home she took a bath, a small nap, made some food and even packed some to later feed Kureno.

Tsubaki noticed the man was lying in bed, his eyes closed. She smiled as she tried to walk as quite as possible as she placed the packed food on his table.

Walking towards Kureno, she took in his appearance. His brown hair which was quite messy and his face which looked a bit paler than usual, nevertheless she couldn't deny he was indeed attractive.

Rasing her hand she placed cupped his cheek as her thumb moved gently. Kureno shifted slightly as he tilted his head slightly. Tsubaki giggled at his actions. "So you're awake."

Kureno let out a small laugh as he opened one of his eyes. Tsubaki walked away with a smile. "Wake up. I got you some food." Making Kureno sit up as he leaned on his back.

While placing the food in front of Kureno, Tsubaki started. “I went to visit Tohru as well. It seems she has been recovering well."

"I see..." Kureno said as he picked up his chopsticks and picking up some rice from the bento box. "I glad that her injuries weren’t too serious."

"She kind of reminds me of you." Tsubaki laughed as Kureno gave a confused stare, his cheeks filled with food. "Both of you are incredibly kind and maybe abit clumsy... but I like both of you."

Kureno continues to eat his food before he starts speaking, his tone tense. "What about Akito? How is she?"

Tsubaki sighed as she looked outside the room. "Akito... Akito changed after meeting with Tohru. She has become calmer and gentle."

"Kureno, I feel like you might not want anything to do with Akito anymore." Kureno nodded when Tsubaki looked at him asking for confirmation. "But when I talked with Tohru...I realized that Akito was all this time very lonely. She has been raised with everyone around her telling she is special and nothing she does can be wrong..."

"I said those same things as well but now after seeing her again I want to rebuild my bond with Akito." Tsubaki bit her lips as she hesitated continuing. "I no longer want to see her as my master but rather treat Akito simply as my dear sister."

"There are many things she doesn't know about the outside so I hope that I can teach her and be by her side." Tsubaki looked into Kureno's eyes. "If I said I don't want to leave Akito yet stay with you... would you leave me?"

Kureno smiled as he placed a hand behind Tsubaki's head as he pulled her into an embrace. "I got you after so long, there is no way I'm letting you get away." Kureno kissed the top of her head comforting her. "Indeed I don't really want to personally be in contact with Akito now... but then I have nothing against you wanting to be with your little sister. I'll support whatever you want, Tsuabki..."

"Thank you-"

Tsubaki suddenly stopped speaking as she left something  leave her, all of her senses completely heightened as she turned around to see what was causing it.

Behind her stood a man, he resembled a Shinto priest, who was looking at her as he stood by the window. A gust of wind flew into the room as a dragon gracefully flew towards him.

The man spoke, his voice was so gentle and elegant. "Thank you for taking care of her till the end." By her, he probably meant Akito, their God.

As he then held onto the dragon who pulled him from the room as they flew away. Back to their God.

Tsubaki suddenly remembered every time Hatori and she were seen together, the people would gush saying how it's was nice for the souls to be reunited. As according to the ancient story and their past self’s, the servant and the dragon loved each other dearly, sometimes as friends sometimes as lovers.

"Tsubaki?" But the one she loves now is him.

Kureno’s voice brought her back into reality as she finally turned to look at him. "The banquet has... The banquet has finally ended." Tsubaki's voice cracked as tears continued to fall.

"It feels so complicated. I've always lived with this but now that it's gone so suddenly... so abruptly I-I..." Kureno pulled her into an embrace.

Her then cupped her face as he placed a light kisses on her forehead. "I understand..." Kureno spoke. "But then it means you're free, my love. With this I want to take this opportunity to say I'm going to dedicate all of my being to you..."

Kureno looked at her. Tsubaki could feel his gaze simply full of affection towards her. "Let's make a new bond...just between me and you. A bond which will make me the happiest person alive."

"Will you till accept me even..." Tsubaki kept crying but this time to was full of happiness as she held Kureno’s hands. "Even if I have nothing to give you other than my broken self" She has done many things wrong in her life which hurt many along the way, all because of her coward-ness and insecurities.

Kureno laughed lightly as he peppered her with kisses all over, her eyes, cheeks, forehead and finally her lips.

"That's all I ever wanted. I'll always be with you picking up all your pieces and make sure to fill you with nothing but my love."

 .....

 "Akito."

Tsubaki looked at Akito was sitting down looking at the garden outside, beside her was a small package, a golden glow from the outside making her look so beautiful.

"Tsubaki..." Akito turned slowly as she looked at her. She opened her mouth as if to say something but closed it, only to suck in a deep breath. "I thought you won't come back?"

Tsubaki smiled. She is certain now. When she stayed away from Akito, Tsubaki wondered if she loved Akito simply due to the curse, but the way her heart warmed at the sight of Akito, what Tsubaki felt was genuine love. "How could I?"

"Tsubaki there is something I want to say..."

"What is it?"

"Can we start over?" Akito said, her voice barely audible. "I know the things I did to you were wrong and you might never forgive me...But still I want to see me grow into a better person..."

Tsubaki smiled as she cupped Akito's face. "Only if you call me onee-san... Like how you did when we were younger."

Akito's eyes glistened as she closed her eyes, bringing her hands to her chest in relief as she nodded her head.

Tsubaki turned to look at the package beside her. "Is this the gift Shigure bought?" Akito nodded. Truth is Tsubaki wanted to buy Akito a kimono as well, a gift for Akito who will embrace her true self from now on but it seems that Shigure was one step ahead of her.

"This is my gift for you..." Tsubaki pulled out a small rectangular box as she then opened it. It was a hair pin, beautiful sculpted as a red flower which would go well with Akito. Red always suited her.

Tsubaki smiled at Akito, which such a gentle yet doting expression. "Shall we get ready for the final banquet now?"

Tsubaki could hear loud voices from the room the door away connected. She turned back to look at Akito once more. The woman was dressed in a beautiful kimono even with light makeup adoring her face. Her gifted hairpin placed on one side of her hair.

"Akito, you look really beautiful rights now."

With that Tsubaki opened the door as she stepped in. "Good evening, everyone." Tsubaki bowed, when she straighten up she put on an elegant smile. "Akito is ready..." She then walked in and behind her Akito walked.

With Akito's entrance, everyone turned silent undoubtedly shocked at the reveal. "Hatori, where is Shigure?" Akito questioned.

Hatori snapped out of his daze as she shook his head. "I don't know..."

"Akito-san, don't tell me we have the same cross dressing hobby?!" Ritsu exclaimed in shock.

Akito's expression soured at the assumption. "No." She sternly denied as Tsubaki laughed. Akito never really was good with dealing with Ritsu and Ayame.

Akito elegant sat down as she faced the zodiac- no, former zodiac members. "Just as all of you were able to return to who you are, I'll return to my true self." Akito spoke. "You all are free..."

"I know I should have said something sooner but..." Akito bowed her head. "I apologize...." Besides Akito ,Tsubaki also bowed as well.

You don't have to forgive Akito but please do not let the past prevent you from having a future we always dreamed of. Please smile, please laugh, please experience love which we were not able to get when we were younger. Tsubaki thought.

Please have a happy future...All of you.

 .....

"Mama!"

A woman turned around to look at a small girl who was clinging into her apron. The woman smiled at the tiny girl, who had glowing brown hair tied into a twin tail. "Are you done eating your pudding, Kaede?" She bent down.

Kaede smiled when her mother wiped the crumbs left on her cheeks. "Mama." She said once more. "I want to go visit Shiki-chan!"

The woman tiled her head as she smiled. "Do you love Shiki that much?"

The small girl nodded quickly as she raised her hands. "I love him thiiiiiis much! I love Hajime and Mutsuki as well! They told me Kaede is like a princess! "

Her mother laughed. "Let's not say that to papa, okay? I'm sure he'll faint if you say that."

The mother then hummed as she placed a hand on her face. "But I don't think we can go visit them if Kaede doesn't do her homework." She faked a pout.

The girl flinched as she took a step back. "Kaede will go do it right now!" With that the tiny girl ran away with sounds of tiny steps accompanying her.

The mother then walked to the living room, and in there she found her husband who had fallen asleep on the sofa. Smiling to herself, she raised her husband's head and placed it on her lap.

Noticing crumbs of the pudding on his cheeks as well just like Kaede, she smiled as she wiped them away. So clumsy… Her husband receiving her touch, leaned in. "You're not even asleep, Kureno. Stop acting."

Kureno slowly opened his eyes as he smiled looking at his wife's face. "Where is Kaede, Tsubaki?"

Tsubaki smiled. "She went to do her homework. Apparently she wants to visit Shiki."

Kureno sighed, disappointed. "Does that mean you're going to go away?" Kureno pouted.

"That's right." Tsubaki subconsciously started playing with Kureno's hair. "I heard Tohru is visiting as well so it's perfect."

"I'll miss you." Kureno smiled as he raised his hand and placed it behind Tsubaki's head. "Do come back quick." He said, as he pulled Tsubaki towards him, as he then kissed her. Tsubaki smiled as she leaned in, deepening the kiss.

"Ah!" A small voice exclaimed. "Papa move away from mama!" The girl rushed in as she started to pull Kureno away from Tsubaki.

Kureno started sobbing as he pretended to be pulled by Kaede’s strength. "Ehh? Why are you so mean to me?"

The girl huffed. "Because Mama is mine! And we are going to visit Shiki-chan!"

"Papa is sad that he'll be left alone."

Tsubaki's heart warmed up at the sight of her husband playing with her child. A scene she could have never have imagine when she was younger was reality now. From the bottom of her heart, she was happy.

A new bond which was accompanied with happiness and love embraced so gently which would remain for all eternity.

 -The End-

 masterlist

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 7.1

"Don't make me say it again," Scaramouche warned.  He conjured his catalyst once more, this time holding his palm out to you rather than charging at you.

"You want to fight?  I'll make sure it kills you."  Your eyes shone enough to further illuminate the entire room. Dottore made one of the Fatui agents note the brightness of your eyes in a notebook.

You didn't wait for Scaramouche to make the first move, and instead lunged at him.  He evaded easily.  Then he sent another bolt of electricity your way.  You barely managed to duck in time, making sure to lower your weapon as close to the ground as possible to avoid shocking yourself again.  You put your weight onto your hands and flipped yourself over, then stabbed at him the second you were back on your feet.

He's no Childe, you realized with widening eyes.  I can beat him.

Childe leaned forward, his breathe hitching from the excitement.  He itched to join the scuffle while Xiao kept his eyes focused solely on you.  You performed his combo almost as flawlessly as Xiao did in past battles, this time being the one to pin the harbinger against the wall.

"How far do you want me to go, Master?" Your taunting angered the harbinger until a wild look consumed his face.  "Is this far enough? Or do you want me to injure you?  Tell me, what do you want me to do?"  You hit the catalyst out of the air and it clattered to the ground several feet away.

Xiao marveled at your sudden change in personality.  He had thought you were breaking, but maybe it was his own miscalculation?

"Since when did I give you permission to issue your own orders?"  He threw himself at you and conjured his weapon once more.  A fury of lightning strikes hit the air around you, but you were too quick in moving your polearm out of the way.  The air charged with electricity, but it didn't do anything to you.

Well, except ignite a metaphorical lightbulb above your head.  You sent a quick glance in Xiao's direction, but your attention was focused mainly on Childe.  I don't need a vision.  I can outsmart them.  You slowly drew Scaramouche towards you until he was in the middle of the room again, then you charged at Childe.

"Huh?"  It took a second for Childe to realize you were gunning for him and not Xiao.  An excited smile played across his lips, and he let go of Xiao's shoulder.  "I think I'll take this as an invitation."  He summoned his bow and aimed a charged shot at your head.  You ducked just in time, and it hit Scaramouche's catalyst.  It exploded in a fit of electrical bolts and shattered across the ground.  Childe cursed under his breath.

Scaramouche was beyond livid at this turn of events.  "You--!"  He turned his attention to Childe and was about to throw a punch.

"Now, Xiao!" You bolted for the exit as a precautionary measure.

"What?!  NOW?"  Xiao scrunched his brows together and glanced between the group of harbingers.  He immediately began to concentrate a force of anemo around his feet, and the power slowly came to its crest.

"Wonderful!"  Dottore cackled as he watched the two of you work together while Scaramouche and Childe were at each other's throats.  "These were exactly the results I was looking for!"

Almost there!  You nearly reached the set of doors when something pierced the back of your knee and sent you crashing to the ground.  "Ngh!"  Your fingers wrapped around Childe's arrow and yanked it out of your skin.

"--But unfortunately, this little performance is over," Dottore finished.  One of his previously sleeping machines awoke from its slumber and shot a dart that landed in your shoulder.  

"No!"  You looked behind you to find Xiao also being effected by the wounds.  "Xiao! Leave me! Go!"  A fierce kick to your jaw shut you up.

Xiao bit through the pain and was near breaking the seal when a few portraits flared through his head of a small, purple-haired girl.  Time seemed to slow down as he remembered her.  I can't... His gaze slowly floated over to you.  ...hurt you too...

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

You woke up in your cell with your hands tied tight behind your back.  "Dammit!"  Your growl caught Xiao's attention, but he didn't dare look over.  "I was so close--Wait.  Why are you still here?  I told you to get out.  Xiao?"  When he didn't look over to you, you wiggled your way into a sitting position despite the pain in your leg and scooted next to him.  Unlike you, his hands were free.  "Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"...I'm sorry."

"H-huh?  What are you saying that for?"  

Xiao leapt from the balcony of Angel Tavern and had just about reached to your hand when the portal closed and he was met with the empty night air.  'If only I had been quicker to hear her--'

The image flipped.

'Forgive me.'  The Guardian Yaksha closed the little girl's eyes as he whispered an incantation.  'I will give you a second chance at life.'  The purple-haired child mumbled something about herbs as she gasped for a decent breath of air.

"I..." You trailed off.  I wasn't the only one?  But he did something different that time...what was that?  Some sort of talisman? "Xiao--" You shifted so you were positioned in front of him, and he lowered his gaze to avoid yours.  

His eyes were part of an expression that was the saddest you've ever seen before.  The confident, collected yaksha had finally revealed his vulnerable side.  It never occurred to you that he had one to begin with, so you observed his precious state for a few quiet minutes.

"Was...she collateral damage?"  Xiao didn't answer.  "Hey.  Could you please look at me?"  He reluctantly gave into your request and raised his head, but kept his eyes at chin level.  "What happened to either of us wasn't your fault.  I'm not upset with you for not reaching me in time, either.  What matters now isn't failures of the past; we are here together.  You deserve to be free and happy.  I'm more than happy to sacrifice myself so you can escape and live on without me.  I mean, I'm going to die eventually anyway, right?"  You leaned your head forward so your foreheads touched.

"You are my...companion.  Even if you wanted to sever our connection, it would be impossible now.  It's too strong, even without my blood connecting the two of us."

"Just because I'm willing to sacrifice myself doesn't mean I want to sever our bond.  I've...never wanted to sever it."

"Hm?"  His eyes finally met yours, and his saddened expression held a tint of confusion.  "You never wanted to sever it? ...You...really are a difficult being to comprehend..."

"That's because I..." the words caught in your throat.  "I..."  Archons, why can't I get the stupid words out? "Xiao, listen," you took a deep breath to steady your racing heart as you stared directly into his eyes.  

"Let me untie your hands," he interrupted the moment and gestured for you to turn around.

"U-um, okay."  His fingers made quick work of the rope that had dug into your skin so much that the slightest brush of fingertips made you wince.

"There's something we need to discuss," he continued once you faced him again, eyeing the hallway to confirm that the bird device was completely out of the prison.  "The others will be coming soon."

"Others?"  The sudden change in topic made you want to kick yourself.  There's no way you could gather up the courage to tell him again.  "You mean Zhongli and Aether?"  Why did he have to change the subject like that?

"Childe intentionally set out to hunt us down on the Tsaritsa's orders.  I was woken by the fighting,"  Xiao continued to watch the door out of paranoia.  "I passed out before I could be of use in battle, and didn't wake up until I was brought here.  "Zhongli gave me a vision, a message while I was unconscious.  He said he will return soon with help, but something about this is off.  Something doesn't sit right with Childe."

"You think he might be helping us in some way?"  You scoffed.  "I'm not putting my faith in that monster."

"I'm not saying you have to.  Just trust me when I say they'll be here soon. Don't lose hope, and don't sacrifice yourself for me."  He put some distance between the two of you, and your heart shattered when you recognized he was emotionally distancing himself from you again.

"Right..."

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

You decided to chase after your own confession once more a few hours later.  "Do you have any desires, Xiao?"  You absently traced the seal lines on the ceiling while you lay on your back.

"Desire?"  The yaksha scoffed.  "Do not judge adepti by your mortal ideals.  I have no desire."  He too lay on his back, with his arms folded behind his head as he stared absentmindedly at the most powerful sigil that was painted above him.  

"That...kind of sounds like you're hiding something," you baited.

"Hiding? I'm hiding nothing.  I just won't speak of desire to others.  Do you mortals not have a rule about spoken wishes never coming true? Hm?"  The cute way he upturned his nose at you brought a blush to your cheeks.

"T-That's not really the same thing...!"

"What do you mean that's not the same?!"  He peered over at you when he heard a giggle escape your lips.  It was light and airy, and he cherished the joy in your eyes when you met his.  A small but unmistakable smile formed upon his lips.  The two of you were grinning at one another, and a comfortable silence ensued as you continued to hold his gaze.

"Okay then, since you put it that way," you grinned to yourself and faced the ceiling once more.  Xiao did the same.  "Do the adepti ever fall in love?"

"Occasionally, yes."  This prompted a side glance from you.  "There is a half-human, half-adeptus in the Liyue Qixing.  Ganyu."

"I think I've heard of her before."  His recollection ignited a portrait of her within your thoughts.

"She is constantly faced with living between two worlds, both never quite having a place for her.  She fought alongside Rex Lapis and I in the Archon Wars.  But returning to your question, yes, there are occasions in which adepti will fall for mortals.  I've never understood it myself."

"I see."  You fell into a small silence as you dug further into anxiety.  "Have you ever loved anyone?"

"No." The answer was way too quick for your liking, but Xiao continued.  "I know nothing but death and destruction.  Love does not interest me."

A weird feeling of vertigo hit you, and your eyes illuminated the cell a bit.  "That's a lie."

"Huh?" Xiao snapped his head in your direction.

"Why are you lying to yourself?  What are you lying to yourself about?" You weren't exactly conscious of the words spewing out of your mouth as if you were in some sort of trance while you gazed at him.  

"I'm not," he defended.

"That's another lie.  Whatever it is, you know you can tell me, right?"  Your eyes dimmed back to regularity.

"Tsk."  Xiao resumed his previous position on the floor and grumbled something under his breath that you couldn't hear.  "Then what about you?  Has a mortal as strange as you ever come to love someone?"  This'll get her to drop it--

"Yes, actually."  You regretted answering the second the words left your mouth, and heat rose to your cheeks.  "Er, I mean..."

Xiao received a pang of what he assumed was the human emotion of jealousy.  How absurd that he had been reduced to human standards of emotions ever since he joined Aether's team.  "You haven't mentioned them before," he commented.  "Does this happen to be the desire you spoke of earlier?"

"U-um...yeah..."  Your fingers fidgeted over your stomach, and you clenched the fabric of your shirt as you contemplated your next words.  You made a conscious effort to refrain from accidentally praying or wishing for him to know who you were referring to.

"Don't worry.  I'll bring you back to them safely."  He rolled onto his side so his back faced you.

"I-I...!" Your eyes wavered at his back.  I can't do it.  I can't bring myself to tell him.  Dammit, why does this have to be so difficult?  He's right here.  We could die any day now.  So why can't I just come out with it?

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

Coming up: Manipulating ojou-chan.  The yaksha bears his mask.  A breached contract.  A deal with the devil.

[seattlesea]

bad representation in the riordanverse

Racism:

-Gave Hazel and Piper gold and ‘kaleidoscope’/brown-blue-green changing eyes and pretty much went ‘Let’s add some characters of color but they cANT HAVE BROWN EYES THAT’S NOT PRETTY ENOUGH’ as if whitewashing isn’t more than just the skin.

-East Asian characters: Riordan pretty much went 'Here are my East Asian characters- one of them looks like a fat baby on steroids and is super undeveloped, his mother is strict and cold, and all the others are just described as 'Asian' because different countries in Asia don't exist and there's obviously no difference between Japanese, Chinese, and Korean'. His portrayal of East Asian characters went like this: Frank: Chinese, chubby, hates himself, underdeveloped, described to look like a 'Chinese Canadian baby man' and a 'panda' as if that's not stereotyping, and only learned to love himself when he looked hotter.  Drew: Asian, villainized, rude, shallow, vain, and selfish. Ethan: Asian, rude, evil, a traitor, and deceased. Grandma Zhang- rude, strict, cold, traditional, and deceased.

-Hazel: Has gold eyes. Has 'cinnamon brown' hair even though dark brown or black hair would be way more inclusive and realistic. Had a mother portrayed as a rude and selfish witch who sacrificed, used, and trafficked her own child. Was the only character called or described as a witch while African-Americans were usually accused of witchcraft just for their skin color. Was the only character who was cursed. Had a mother who literally practiced voodoo. The only African-American character in the series before ToA who isn't dead (but she also died). Was paired with a sixteen year old guy even though African women are constantly forced with older men and that's blatantly racist stereotyping. 

-Piper: Had 'chocolate brown' and then 'mahogany' hair? Has kaleidoscope eyes. Put a feather in her hair (which is stereotyping)- and it was an eagle feather, which is also wrong because eagles are extremely sacred to First Nation tribes and only spiritual leaders or warriors can wear it or it has to be gifted by an Elder of the tribe, and Riordan basically went 'Feathers are very important and it's racist to make a character wear one at inappropriate times but I'm going to make my character wear one as a cute accessory to make her look cool, pretty, and headstrong and to add to her 'Aesthetic'’ even though Cherokees didn’t wear feathers (which proves he did the bare minimum of research). Constantly oversexualized (56% of First Nation women are sexually harassed and Riordan had the audacity to put Piper in an 'embarrassingly low v-neck' and to have her constantly drooled over by a WHITE MALE and have her sexualized by her 1000+ mother without her knowledge or consent).  It's said that her father was from a reservation in Oklahoma...but there are no reservations in Oklahoma, only cultural centers (which also proves that he did the bare minimum of research).  She's the only First Nations character and she's the only character (besides Nancy Bobofit) depicted as a kleptomaniac (First Nations people are constantly called thieves by racist assholes). “The week before, he’d turned down several million dollars to play Tonto in a remake of The Lone Ranger. Piper was still trying to figure out why. He’d played all kinds of roles—a Latino teacher in a tough L.A. school, a dashing Israeli spy in an action-adventure blockbuster, even a Syrian terrorist in a James Bond movie. And, of course, he would always be known as the King of Sparta. But if the part was Native American—it didn’t matter what kind of role it was—Dad turned it down.” (The Lost Hero, page 165). So her father is fine with playing an extremely racist and stereotypical Middle Eastern role but not a First Nations role. Uses a cornucopia as a weapon (how she got it- cutting it off a half-bull- is disrespectful to her culture as hurting an animal is banned and she used a cornucopia- a symbol of Thanksgiving- as a weapon). Cut her hair, which is basically taboo in First Nations culture.

-Samirah: Had an arranged marriage (at age twelve, and she believed that she was groomed to be married to a rich and respectable family and nothing else). Ripped off her hijab in front of tons of male characters. The only Muslim character. The only Muslim character and she's the only character who married her cousin (you're supposed to break stereotypes, not enforce them).

Thomas Jefferson Jr: Said that he was thankful to the British for not siding with the South during the American Civil War even though they needed the South's cotton (but they didn't side with the North either). AKA a black man and son of a freed slave was thankful to Britain for not openly oppressing him? And at the same time he was named after a racist slave-owner.

Reyna: She's brown and her entire story revolves around her being independent, strong, alone, and self-sufficient but also desperately needing love and support but then Riordan says that she can't get her heart healed AKA she went through an abusive home, killed her father, left her sister, felt alone her whole life, worked a two-person job alone for months, and had to put on a brave face for others throughout all this then was literally told 'Shut up no one wants to hear about your struggles, just suck it up and deal with it’ and have you seen all the shit brown girls have to go through and keep silent about it? 

Extra: -Latino, Puerto Rican, African-American, Chinese-Canadian, East Asian, First Nations, etc. characters and the two most powerful, best, and most skilled characters and who the stories mostly revolve around are two white guys AKA white supremacy.

-"Harriet Tubman, daughter of Hermes, used many mortals on her Underground Railroad for just this reason" and that World War II was caused by a child of Zeus and a child of Hades fighting very blatantly erases the shit those people went through and Riordan just went 'Let's use these racist movements as little easter eggs in my story'.

-Thanatos, who was chained and enslaved, is described with dark skin.

-Riordan writing the characters went a little something like this: Drew: You get common Eastern Asian features like dark hair and eyes because you're arrogant, selfish, conceited, and rude, and because you're an antagonist and you're going to be used to make one of my protagonists- who has unique traits- look good so you're going to have the basic, 'boring' physical traits so the readers know who's the more superior of the two of you. Leo: You get common Latino features like curly dark hair, dark eyes, and light brown skin cause you're the weird, hyperactive unattractive one who's very flirty but constantly gets rejected and you're the only main character without a love interest and the only way you can get a girlfriend is when she's forced to fall in love with you through a curse. Frank: You get common Chinese features like dark hair and eyes cause you're the fat unattractive loser who catches the eye of the African character who already has unique and 'special' traits so you don't have to be super attractive. Reyna: You get common Puerto Rican traits like dark skin, hair, and eyes cause you're the stoic, lonely, intimidating, and cold one who wants all the guys (two white guys for that matter) but none of them want you and they both have girlfriends with traits like blonde hair and gray and kaleidoscope eyes so the readers know who are the more interesting couples.  Piper and Hazel: You two get eurocentric features because you're the main characters I have to set apart from everyone else- including other females whom I'm going to make one of you rivals with- so the readers know who's more superior so I'm giving you unique eye colors that literally cannot be found in humans so I'm going to try to validate it by saying that it's from something mildly associated with your godly parent even though neither of them have those traits. Riordan basically said that the common features are bad and boring and that unique and special features- aka features not found in those ethnicities- are good and cool. Also- if gods don’t have DNA how can their traits be passed down to their demigod children checkmate Riordan.

-Cecil Markowitz is the only Jewish character in PJO and the first thing used to describe him is "That kid, always thinking about the potential payout".

-Lavinia said that she was going to bring her date to her bat mitzvah even though you don't bring dates to bat mitzvahs or bar mitzvahs and she said that it was 'awkward' to tell her rabbi that someone was going to be her date even though you don't explain your guestlist to your rabbi, and they're most likely not even going to be at the party.

-Only three Latino and Puerto Rican characters (Leo, Reyna, and Hylla) and all three came from abusive households.

-Leo said 'Mamacita' as if that's not stereotyping.

-Made Nico ‘pale’ even though he had olive skin and gave him black hair and dark eyes despite Italians usually having light hair and eyes just to add to his ‘Goth Boy Aesthetic’.

-Hazel described Pluto to look like Adolf Hitler.

-Carter Kane said that Elvis took African-American music and made it sound like rock 'n roll and described it as cool- like no it’s cultural appropriation. 

-Leo was abused and Riordan thought that it'd be funny to make all the other characters line up to punch him and then try to make it look funny. 

-Gave almost every single POC character a white name and sometimes gave them white first names and POC surnames, and Reyna and Bianca are the only POC characters with names from their culture/native language and one of them is dead and reborn as someone else and the other’s full name wasn’t revealed until the fourth book in her series and she hates using it.

-Made two POC characters with names from their culture- Samirah and Olujime- go by white nicknames (Sam and Jamie) to make it ‘easier to read’ despite having white characters with the same amount of syllables in their names (like Annabeth) that didn’t go by nicknames.

-Never actually described the characters of color with physical traits from their ethnicities (Reyna, Hylla, and Leo with big eyes, thick eyebrows, brown hair, wide noses, full lips, etc., Piper with almost-oriental eyes, shovel teeth, high cheekbones, black hair, etc., Nico with light or brown hair and eyes, olive skin, a narrow nose, etc., Hazel with a wide nose and lips, dark brown eyes, black or dark brown hair, big eyes, thick eyebrows, etc.).

Anti-LGBTQ+:

-Nico was forcibly outed by Cupid and Riordan and the fandom didn't care and the only thing they thought was 'Aww, he has a crush on Percy! So cute!' AKA romanticizing a forced outing. 

-Riordan said that he didn't want to make Reyna lesbian or bisexual because he thought it'd be stereotypical making her LGBTQ+ because she didn't want men anymore even though she could've been bisexual all along but Riordan casually dismissed the idea of that saying "Having a girl end up with a woman after dating men is a bad stereotype" and basically said that real bi girls don’t exist.

-The Hunters of Artemis were made so Artemis/Diana could protect those girls from men and their behavior towards women but Riordan dismissed lesbian relationships- even though nothing about that was said in real Greek mythology- meaning that he thinks that women need protection from other women just as much as they need protection from men.

-Alex Fierro is the only gender-fluid or transgender character and she/he’s seen as rude, snarky, and sharp and Magnus could magically tell when Alex changed gender.

-Riordan said that he wouldn’t make Reyna a lesbian because of stereotypes despite the reader asking if Reyna was going to get a girlfriend, not come out as lesbian AKA Riordan thinks ‘Girls liking girls’ is automatically ‘lesbian’ and completely dismissed bi, pan, poly, omni, etc. girls.

-Used a self-insert to make fun of wlw readers who saw themself in Reyna and thought she could be a cool character to relate to.

-Enforced LGBTQ+ stereotypes like the cold-hearted Asexual, the flamboyant bi/pan, the snarky gender-fluid, the emo gay, the laid-back and rebellious lesbian who dyed her hair pink and chews a lot of bubblegum, etc.

-Has one-hundred fifty-five characters total minus gods/goddesses, Titans, giants, nymphs, dryads, satyrs, monsters, etc. and only has fifteen confirmed LGBTQ+ characters (do the math, that’s exactly one out of ten regarding OCs).

-Only one character that isn’t cishet.

-Saves most the LGBTQ+ for the side characters or only confirms characters LGBTQ+ once they’ve become a minor character despite being a main character before.

-Only stated that Reyna was Asexual outside of his books and on Twitter as if that’s not exactly what J.K Rowling is doing.

-Used the LGBTQ+ community to make Piper seem like the ‘special snowflake’ and to set her apart from her siblings to make it seem like she’s better than all of them and used Hera/Juno and Aphrodite/Venus as excuses for his homophobic mindset that believes that straight is the default cause “Suddenly, much of what she and I had talked about started to make sense. Not being defined by Aphrodite’s expectations. Or Hera’s ideas of what a perfect couple looked like. Piper finding her own way, not the one people expected of her” in synonymous words is 'The expectations for love and the idea of a perfect couple are a heterosexual relationship, and anyone who 'finds their own way instead of the ones people expect' are different'. ‘Different’ and ‘default’ are antonyms AKA if he thinks that LGBTQ+ people are ‘different’, he thinks that straight is the ‘default’. Remember- an author writes their own personal beliefs.

-Josephine is the only black LGBTQ+ character.

-Reyna is said to be Asexual despite feeling sexual attraction towards Percy cause no one likes someone five minutes after knowing them and it’s anything but sexual attraction.

-Magnus and Alex are the only LGBTQ+ relationship whose growth and development is actually shown in the story (while there was also Apollo and Commodus, Piper and Shel, Will and Nico, Apollo and Hyacinthus, Emmie and Jo, Lavinia and Poison Oak, etc.).

-Riordan never canonically said the name of any sexuality and is clearly uncomfortable with the LGBTQ+ community shown by his little to no writing regarding physical affection and deep emotions in his LGBTQ+ relationships.

-Only added in LGBTQ+ relationships for publicity- Percy Jackson and the Olympians release dates: 2005-2009. 2005-2009: LGBTQ+ support was nearly at an all-time low. No LGBTQ+ characters, relationships, or references in the books. The Lost Hero-The Mark of Athena release dates: 2010-2012. 2010-2012: LGBTQ+ support was still very low. Still no LGBTQ+ characters, relationships, or references in the books. The House of Hades release date: late 2013. Mid-2013: the giant spike for LGBTQ+ support and allies. One confirmed LGBTQ+ character. The Sword of Summer release date: late 2015. 2015: LGBTQ+ support was good and gay marriage was legalized. A few LGBTQ+ references but no confirmed characters. The Hammer of Thor and The Ship of the Dead release dates: 2016-2017. 2016-2017: LGBTQ+ support was quite high. Two confirmed LGBTQ+ characters and the first canon LGBTQ+ relationship and kiss. The Trials of Apollo release dates: 2016-2020. 2016-2020: LGBTQ+ support was very high. More LGBTQ+ characters confirmed in one book than all the other series combined. Kind of obvious he was just following the public opinion.

-Legit said ‘Reyna can’t like girls cause she has had crushes on guys before’.

Ableism:

-It was heavily implied in The Battle of the Labyrinth that Rachel Dare had schizophrenia/psychosis but it's never brought up again.

-Grover's fake feet made it look like he was disabled from the Mist and it was said that he was bullied because of it but it was never brought up again.

-It was said that Tyson looked like he had down syndrome from the Mist covering his one eye but it was never brought up again. 

-It was stated that every character but Frank has ADHD and dyslexia but never actually showed any symptoms after Percy Jackson and the Olympians and characters like Piper and Leo were even able to read English writing throughout The Lost Hero and the only symptom of ADHD Riordan showed through his characters was ‘a lot of fidgeting’ as if that’s not a blatant stereotype. 

Pedophilia:

-Luke, a twenty-two/twenty-three year old had a crush on Annabeth, a sixteen year old. That's a six-seven year age gap. 

-The only two girls put into relationships with much older men are black (Hazel and Sadie).

-Hazel, a thirteen year old, got together with a sixteen year old guy. Hazel's crush on Frank is normal- a girl having a crush on an older guy, but Frank's crush on Hazel is disgusting- an older guy looking down at a child and thinking about making out with her.

Misogyny:

-Aphrodite's kids are seen as useless, weak, snobby, shallow, vain, and selfish just because they’re feminine. 

-Riordan portrayed Aphrodite’s kids as feminine despite Aphrodite being the goddess of love and beauty, not femininity, as if romance and beauty are reserved for women only. 

-Piper is the only 'tomboy' child of Aphrodite and she's portrayed as tougher, stronger, and better than her feminine siblings (and it's portrayed that way multiple times throughout the story like other characters telling Piper she’s "-tough for a child of Aphrodite").

-Piper immediately stereotyped and disliked every single feminine character like Drew and the rest of the Aphrodite cabin just because they liked makeup and skirts as if that’s not shallow criticism. 

-Feminine characters like Drew, Isabel, Khione, and Medea are used or even created solely as antagonists to make Piper- the tomboy- look better.

-Calypso is the only feminine character and she sucks at everything. 

-Riordan’s take on female characters: Drew: a vain, rude, selfish, snobby, and bitchy mean girl. Silena: a shallow traitor. Reyna: a cold-hearted robot. Piper: internalized misogyny that was never brought up again. Calypso: an island whore. Athena: a rude, aggressive bitch with no emotions. Aphrodite: shallow, vain, conceited, and self-centered. Hera: completely evil with no backstory added into it. Marie: an evil witch who selfishly used and sacrificed her daughter.

-The Hunters of Artemis were blessed by Artemis to protect them from men but Riordan made it only about the men in their lives (again) and portrayed the whole 'losing men' thing like it was a burden and that they're 'giving men up' even though they join the Hunters to leave men. He distorted the original meaning of the Hunters- protecting women- by making it about the Hunters hating and being forced to leave men even though they're asking to have no men in their lives, cause that's the point of it. 

-The Amazons and Hunters of Artemis despise men and literally attack them if they so much as speak as if sexism is reserved for women only.

-Portrayed femininity as weakness (and masculinity as strength, it’s even in the word- tomBOY).

-Constantly pit women against women for the sake of romance and love triangles instead of normalizing women getting along despite liking the same people and let the female’s relationships get controlled and influenced by the men in their lives.

-The men always outpower the women in powers and skills. Riordan’s portrayal of powers and characters- Percy: You’re going to have epic water powers and can even create your own personal hurricanes and even though you’ve only been canonically training for eight months total you’re going to be the best swordfighter despite multiple characters having years more training than you. Jason: You’re going to be able to fly, control lightning, create storms, and electric shock people into another dimension. Leo: You’re going to be able to create and control fire and blow shit up with just a screwdriver. Frank: You’re going to be able to shape-shift into any animal you want, even a whole dragon. Nico: You’re going to be able to control darkness and shadows, literally teleport, and raise a whole army of undead soldiers. Reyna: Powers? Nah, your only ability is to lend strength to others as if that benefits you at all. Annabeth: Powers? Nah. Piper: You’re going to be able to manipulate and seduce people and are literally going to use your body and attractiveness as a weapon and your power is literally called charmspeak. Hazel: You have more powers than all the other characters combined that can literally destroy anyone in less than a second but you’re never going to use them or even remember that you have them cause screw the female character being more powerful than the males. 

-The men always accomplish the most incredible feats and if the females ever do accomplish something great (Reyna healing the riff and defeating Orion while the Hunters and Amazons couldn’t combined, Annabeth going through Tartarus, Hazel learning to control the Mist, etc.) they are never praised or rewarded or all the credit goes to the men. 

-Ares/Mars in real Greek/Roman mythology was the feminist patron of the Amazons who loved his daughter very much and killed a rapist but was portrayed as the dumb, cruel asshole who loved nothing but bloodshed and tried to kill a twelve year-old kid who was trying to help him while Poseidon/Neptune in real Greek/Roman mythology was a greedy, short-tempered, and arrogant asshole who raped almost as much women than Zeus/Jupiter but was portrayed as the kind, caring, and gentle father figure. 

Fatophobia:

-Frank is the only chubby character and he hates himself because of it, was constantly fat-shamed, and only learned to love himself after he got rippling abs, muscles, and looked hotter (because fat = ugly in Riordan’s mind, even though it's not). 

-Clovis was depicted with a pot-belly and Drew described him as 'repulsive'.

-Dionysus/Bacchus is also depicted with a pot-belly and he's portrayed as a useless, rude, lazy, and drunken asshole. 

Lookism:

Basically how Riordan wrote his characters- Percy, Annabeth, Jason, Reyna, Hazel, Piper, and most minor protagonists: You’re all going to be super attractive, have at least one character or more pining for you, have your looks constantly commented on, and some of you will even use your looks as a weapon cause that’s not obvious sexualization cause you’re all the main characters and protagonists that readers need to know are the protagonists. Nico, Leo, and Frank: You three are originally portrayed as unattractive but at some points are described as cute and two of you are insecure about your looks cause you’re scrawny and chubby and one of you hates yourself cause of your body and only learn to love yourself once you magically gain abs cause more muscle obviously equals more attractiveness.  Luke, Silena, Chris, and Ethan: You four are going to be super attractive because you’re traitors but all of you make up for your actions and decide to help the demigods and become protagonists again. Octavian, Bryce, Michael, Titans, giants, etc.: You all are the antagonists so you have to be super ugly with multiple physical imperfections cause you’re not allowed to be attractive since you are against the protagonists and I have to set you guys apart and show the readers who’s the better and more superior character. 

-Frank hated himself cause he was chubby and only loved himself once he got skinnier and gained muscle through magic but even then was called ‘cute like a panda’.

-Leo was described as scrawny and unattractive and was insecure about being short but even then was called ‘cute in a scrawny way’.

-Piper had facial imperfections and even a pimple on her nose but once she got claimed all of those disappeared and they stayed gone even after the blessing washed off despite all the magic being gone and only then was Piper’s looks commented on multiple times. 

-Lester/Apollo hated his appearance cause he had a little flab and acne and his physical imperfections were used as comedy by making fun of it as if insecure readers don’t exist.

-Percy and Annabeth had one canon physical imperfection- a gray streak in their hair- and that magically washed away.

-None of the other characters were described with any physical imperfections like pimples/zits/acne, body hair (despite none of the characters having the care or time to wax or shave), bushy/frizzy or messy hair or eyebrows, big or small hands or noses, blackheads, super thick or thin eyebrows, blemishes, birthmarks, scars, stretch marks, braces, lazy eyes, yellow or chipped teeth, eye bags, glasses, moles, dimples, love handles, flab/fat, visible veins, freckles, etc. unless it added to their ‘aesthetic’ despite none of those being bad and saves it only for the antagonists as if ‘physical imperfections’ = ‘evil’. 

Bias:

-Riordan portrayed the Romans as cold, cruel, ruthless, strict, and overall horrible despite them being the more inclusive camp regarding family and godly parents, have multiple families and rules that ensure their camper’s safety, and hold the nicest characters in the series while the Greeks are portrayed as fun, wild, reckless, silly, and cool despite holding the most prejudiced and rude characters, outcasting and ostracizing characters of certain godly parents just for their parentage, stereotype almost every single cabin, and make some campers without siblings live, sleep, and eat alone. 

-Every Greek traitor (Luke, Silena, Ethan, and Chris) were portrayed as powerful, kind, attractive, and awesome and each made up for their actions but each Roman ‘traitor’ (Octavian, Bryce, and Michael, and only one of them are actually a traitor) were portrayed as unattractive, cruel, ambitious, ruthless, and extremely weak and never actually did anything useful.

-The Greeks were part of the Union and the Romans were part of the Confederacy (adding on to Riordan adding racist movements as fun little easter eggs in his stories).

-Four out of seven of the main Seven are Greek.

-There are at least 70+ Greek characters and less than thirty named Romans.

-The Battle of San Francisco Bay was used for the sole purpose to weaken the Romans and make the Greeks seem stronger than them and while the Greeks went through two whole wars, their camp laid almost completely untouched but the moment the Romans are introduced, half their population is wiped?

Romanticization:

-Romanticized Annabeth judo-flipping Percy AKA romanticized physical abuse/harassment (emotions, angriness, feelings of love and affection, ‘they went through a lot together’, etc. do not excuse hitting someone) despite Annabeth knowing where Percy’s Achilles Heel was and not knowing he lost it and flipping him on his back anyways (if Percy didn’t lose the Achilles Heel, Annabeth would’ve killed him).

-Romanticized Leo killing himself to see Calypso again and to take her off her island AKA a romanticized suicide.

-Romanticized Calypso yelling at and insulting Leo and Annabeth insulting and canonically lowering Percy’s self-esteem AKA romanticized verbal abuse/bullying.

-Romanticized Will trying to help Nico through his loneliness and depression as if that can’t be portrayed as someone just wanting to help another person AKA  romanticized mental illness.

-Romanticized every character kissing another character without asking first and without their consent AKA romanticized sexual harassment.

-Romanticized Piper taking advantage over Jason’s amnesia and mental state and jumping onto him despite knowing there might be a girl he couldn’t remember AKA romanticized manipulation.

-Romanticized Piper and Annabeth’s possessive, overly-jealous, and controlling behavior over Jason and Percy (even before they were canonically dating).

-Romanticized Nico being forced to confess his crush on Percy AKA romanticized a forced outing.

Rick Riordan:

-Refused to apologize for his actions even after being called out by people from the groups he was writing inaccurately and stereotyping (Muslim, Jewish, African, First Nation, lesbian, gay, Puerto Rican, etc.) and tried to make himself look like the victim.

-Claimed he was being ‘bullied’ by readers half his age who were just pointing out his books’ racist flaws.

-Showed time and time again that he is not willing to listen to the voices of minorities.

-Clearly didn’t do his research on ethnicities, sexualities, religions, etc. shown by how he got the simplest things wrong.

-Tried to say that he- a straight white man- was right when people of the actual groups he was writing about (gay, First Nation tribes, etc.) were wrong.

-Used excuses like having a ‘headstrong’ and ‘stubborn’ character who wants to ‘show their culture in their own way’ for his stereotypes. No, Riordan, you want to show the culture that way, not Piper. She’s a fictional character, you’re real. Dumbass.

-Literally said ‘Sorry I put feathers in Piper’s hair, I can’t change what I wrote in the past and I didn’t know that sensitive readers existed’ then continued to write feathers in Piper’s hair in the future books. 

The Fandom:

Note: Not to all of the fandom, obviously

-Draws Piper with light skin, light hair, and kaleidoscope eyes with feathers, hippie bands, and beads (yes, it's canon, but you're allowed to change it if it's blatantly racist, and the bead and hippie band thing was created by the fandom and that's also stereotyping).

-Almost always draw Reyna, Hylla, and Leo with light skin and Caucasian traits (props to the few artists who drew them with the right skin tones).

-Draws Hazel with gold eyes, ‘cinnamon’/light brown hair, and an adult body.

-Sexualizes female characters by drawing them in sexy and revealing clothes and giving them all the same exact sexy, slim, and perfect hour-glass shaped bodies.

-Almost never include physical imperfections, muscle, scars, stretch marks, etc. in drawings.

-Fancasts white actors for characters of color and puts actors/faceclaims of white people or people of different ethnicities in the moodboards or aesthetics for characters of color.

-Participates in cultural appropriation by wearing feathers when cosplaying Piper and wearing a hijab when cosplaying Samirah.

-Supports Riordan, tries to defend him, and condones his clearly racist and bigoted actions just cause they ‘like the books’ (if you are straight, white, and/or cishet, I definitely don’t want to see you trying to defend a fifty-five year-old multi-millionaire who is clearly racist, sexist, homophobic, and transphobic).

-Romanticize physical abuse, verbal abuse, mental illnesses and panic/anxiety attacks, etc.

-Ship pedophilic, manipulative, abusive, and wrong relationships.

-Barely allow others to have their own opinions (looking at you Perachel haters) without yelling at, insulting, cursing out, and/or even threatening them for liking or disliking different things than them including ships, characters, books, plots/faults, and Riordan himself.

-Straightwashes characters like shipping Nico with female characters or setting him up with a female character in fanfics.

-Whitewashes characters like drawing Hazel and Piper with eurocentric features, Reyna, Hylla, and Leo with white skin and Caucasian traits, Nico with white/pale skin, etc.

-Try to excuse and explain abusive, manipulative, possessive, and overall very wrong and toxic behavior.

-Fail to recognize and/or admit the toxic, racist, homophobic, sexist, transphobic, wrong, abusive, etc. faults in the books, ships, and characters just cause they like them.

The Percy Jackson franchise does not add good representation. You can still like the series as long as you don’t condone Riordan’s racist and toxic writing and actions and don’t try to ignore the horrible and stereotypical faults just cause you don’t want to admit that your favorite or childhood story is horrible. 

[decayandfanfics]

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head,  every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his  silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a  fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He  thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the  very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset.  He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment  many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power, smut, dirty talking.

A/N:  This chapter is shameless smut, you are warned. Minors do not interact. go and read a book or something.

Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.As always, let me know what you think!

________________________________________________

Chapter 14 / Chapter 15

Lovers ever run before the clock.

Overhaul really is just an uptight pretentious asshole, but Tomura lets his insulting remarks slide, trying his utter best not to snap.

He was supposed to be in a good mood today, but by the time Chronostasis puts the gun against his white locks, he swears that he will do anything in his power to completely ruin Shie Hassakai for this mess, already struggling to keep his temper at bay.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. That’s all.”

He’s never one to get distracted but it is difficult to stay focus when he cannot erase the feeling of her thighs caging his hips, her words rumbling inside his brain like a prayer for him to come back and take what’s already his.

It enrages him far more than he would like to admit, but he can’t go back if he gets killed, can’t he?

Luckily for them, Tomura kinda lacks that self-preservation impulse at the face of danger, so he stays there completely stoic and delightfully petty between Chisaki and the gun. The thought of her crying because he got his pretty brains scattered all over the Shie Hassakai immaculate floor makes him realize that he has yet another reason to hate Overhaul.

Really, what’s the matter with these people? they just keep adding points to their list, but sure, he will work with what he has (as always) by sending Toga and Twice into their ranks to gain some reliability after Chisaki told him about this ridiculous plan of curing society of quirks like it’s an illness.

And he thought que was an extremist.

It’s a dumb concept, really. People decide to be assholes, to be heroes, villains and such. There is a choice in excluding those like him from society meanwhile hero violence is idolized. But quirks? People don’t get to choose. Shit just happens. You can develop a cute little nice quirk that allows you to make bubbles or something ridiculous like, dunno, destroying everything you touch; but people can help it, it’s just the way it is. Nobody asks for it. Not even Overhaul, not even him.

And, even when Tomura can understand what Overhaul is saying about society being unfair based on quirks, his plan still sounds pretty nonsensical to him, who wants to destroy everything with his own hands, after all is that why he was born with such deadly weapon at the reach of his fingers. It would be nothing short but hypocritical and, despite the irony, he likes to think of himself as an honest person. His goal clashes directly with Overhaul’s, so no, he will keep the league interests to himself and for now will trust Toga and Twice to do what they do best without rising any suspicion about what he’s up to. Chisaki is more stupid tan he looks if he thinks Tomura will make blind eye to the audacity of his challenge and his continuous lack of propriety.

Oh, poor Overhaul. He doesn’t know it yet, but he already lost.

In the meantime, he’ll keep himself busy on more important and exciting matters. Hating Overhaul is something he can use as a motivation for more than just inner monologue, because you see, Tomura has a revenge to plan and a truck to steal.

_____________

 Things are different next time he sees you. Something primal and strange born from a sick sense of belonging that fills your interactions after the night you slept together, soothing his temper and bitterness into something warmer and far more intense that pulls and twist and burns to be close to each other.

It's been four days since they left the apartment to prepare the backhand against Overhaul and Tomura is sure that by that hour tomorrow Overhaul will have failed, leaving him as the great winner of his sensei’s title. (Not that he ever needed to prove it, but if Overhaul wanted to pick a fight, he would not be the one to deny his wishes.)

Tonight, however, has nothing to do with all that, not when he’s finally back.

You’ve been waiting for his return by the window, searching for his frame in every shadow, a mug of chocolate warming your hands as the soup simmered over the stove. A warm meal made for him every night in case he decided to return, guessing he would be hungry and cold, wondering if it isn’t too much (but you care for him, so you do it anyway).

A supposition that turned out to be true, but Tomura had another solution in mind.

He’s a starving dog all hunger and demand, a wild vicious thing that looks at you feral and maddened, dripping with want and something far scarier that you don’t dare to name (but you do know, don’t you?).

You are no better than him, not when your fingers had traced patterns with his name across your body, spelling dreams and fantasies from your lips, remembering the way his fingers filled you and you wonder if he touched himself thinking about you too. The answer comes rather messy the moment his jagged mouth whimpers how much he missed you between whispers and moans that to you sound like poetry.

And he takes and takes and takes with deaf hands and sharp teeth, leaving bruises with the shape of his fingertips burned all over you as he bites and scratch and pull-out whimpers and pants from your mouth that echoes the frantic tune of his heart slamming against his ribs because he missed you so much it was painful.  

So, he had kissed you feverish, stomping you against the wall desperate and needing for your attention until you had pull him by the neck of his shirt to drag him into the bedroom, his brain completely forgetting about Overhaul’s existence the moment you push him to the edge of the mattress to sit in his lap, pulling the hem of his shirt for him to take it off, too focused in the heat prints your hands leave on his pale shoulders as something roars inside of his chest urging him to imprint his existence on your skin and possess the being that lives inside your bones.

Tomura paints a plethora of purple kisses over your neck and chest as a mark of his touch and your belonging. Something dark and twisted reverbing inside his ribs, inside his brain.

Mine; his mind repeats over and over again until he’s dizzied from the words, drunk in touch as your hands slither all over his sides, his chest and shoulders. His eyes marveling in the way skin holds together every angle of your flesh and the parts where your bones show from inside of your figure when he finally takes off your dress.

So soft, so beautiful and all his.

His kisses become raw and sharp and painful like the electric bond that ties you together by the ribs, all roughness and need, bruising lips and sinking teeth. Your moans and pants mixing now and then with some pained yelps and hisses of his name to call out on his harshness, but he chooses to make deaf ears to your pleas, too busy trying to gorge on your taste.

His teeth sink on your skin leaving marks like crescent moons that he kisses after you cry, pleasure and need pooling between your thighs, a tightness that burn inside your belly as you tangle your fingers in his hair, thinking briefly between the fog of your thoughts that it has grown, that it looks painfully beautiful on him like a crown of silver and moonlight.

Soon enough your legs lock around his bony hips, the choir of soft mewls and pants has become something far more animal; cries filling the room with each touch. White underwear remaining as the last barrier to your skin, leaving a wet stain over the fabric of his jeans.  

The room turns unbearable warm as your kisses become more slopy and open, letting him take your mouth just how he likes it as he registers the way the skin of your torso presses against his bare chest, your warmth spreading over, suffocating him.

Hooking a finger on your bra cup, Tomura pulls down and reveals the flesh hidden under the layers of lace, deciding already that this is his favorite image of you. Covered in love marks, wet and underwear ruined, your bra tucked under the curb of your breast. Something obscene and desperate about it, more crude than mere nakedness and it’s exactly how he likes it.

It looks lewd, it looks nasty. It looks like everything he wants to make of you, so he tightens his hold on your waist, making your back curve a little up to latch his mouth to your breast, sucking hard enough to draw a loud moan from your lips as you dig your nails on the muscle of his arms, delight shooting through your spine.

“Ow…fuck…” you pant with each pull of his mouth, and he chuckles darkly against your chest, amused and smug because he has you and he knows it, a sinister part of him (the vengeful scary one that wants to kill and maim and destroy) screaming that you belong to him from now on, that you’ll never leave, that he’ll never let you.

Mine, and mine alone he thinks and the thought sounds jarring and loud inside his head as he leaves bruises all over the skin that surround the buds of your chest, making you gasp over his lap.

“What? Wanna say something?” Tomura teases watching your expression, your eyes going wide the moment he slides your panties to the side and press his fingers inside you without warning.

“T-oh…Tomura…fuck…ow” you try to articulate but the words come out as blurred whispers.

“No bickering now?”

“Oh god…Tomura…please” you cry trembling, mouth watering with every touch of his palm over your nerve.

“Please what.”

You hide your face on the crook of his neck to bite him hard enough to make him bark an excited laugh, rejoicing in the fact that you are marking him too, before hooking his fingers inside you to make you moan loudly; hips moving automatically as one of your hands reach the hem of his pants and unbuttons his jeans to touch him back.

“I want you inside.”

He lets out a pretty hiss the moment your fist close around his length, caressing him tentatively until finding a pace, giving you a little victory over his rough teasing.

“I wanna tear you apart” he growls reaching deep inside of you, a wolf like grin slicing across his face baring his sharp teeth “you are a mess. All wet and begging for me to fuck you.”

“Tomura…”

“Fuck…you are so wet, all for me…my good girl, my good girl.” The words pour out of his mouth in feverish tone as his other hand clear the hair off your face before catching your lips on his again.

“Tomura, please…”

He snaps, turning you onto the mattress to climb over your body, throwing his jeans to the floor before leaning between your thighs as his hardness brushes over your clothed center. His patience has run thin though, so he yanks the panties by one side, closing all five fingers over the piece of fabric that flews to the floor before transforming into dust.

He lines up with your center, feeling the intimate touch before thrusting deep into you, ripping out a high moan that makes your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving scratching marks all over his pale skin in an attempt to steady yourself as your walls burn with the stretching.

No, he isn’t gentle this time, he just can’t bring himself to be soft when he feels like the awful infatuation he’s been harboring inside is about to tear his ribs open, pouring out for everyone to see the bloody mess you’ve made of his heart. So, he thrust hard like punishing you for it, snaping his hips fast and deep into you, trying to leave a bruise mark inside as well as one of his hands tangles between your hair, pulling and making you scream to the rhythm of your creaking bed.

He bottoms out the moment his arm hooks under your knee, as you tangle your other leg over his waist, giving him deepest access into you, his tip planting kisses against your cervix, rough friction and raw closeness sending you over the edge because he’s fucking you hard, making sure your screaming can be heard from the hall of the building.

It's brutal, yet you give him everything he wants and more because you like it like this, you like it because is him. The warmth of his body covering yours and you wonder if he can feel it too.

The terrific need of holding onto his body, his wicked smile, his bruised heart. The horror of your attachment to a person like him and what this represents, at the brim of ruining your life for love…

Love.

You are so in love with him.

“Look at me” he demands pulling your hair, a feral snarl across his sharp face darkening his features before kissing you hard, his tongue filling your mouth in lewd motion. “Fuck, you are so tight…I wanna split you in half.” His voice is a coarse and maddened sound against your lips, so close and intimate it’s scary because he’s sinking so deep it feels like he’s trying to rearrange your insides and his words do nothing but intensify the heat.

“Fuck…Tomura…it hurst…you’re so rough…so rough” You manage to blurt out, eyes boring into his.

“And you love it, don’t you?” he snarls tightening the grip on your hair. “You like how it feels…like I’m gonna split your pretty cunt in two. Huh? Say it, say it…”

“Fuck…yes…yes”

“Yes what.” He barks in a particularly harsh thrust that makes you scream like a wildling.

“I love it…fuck…like that…I love it…I love it.”

“You are mine…you hear me?” he prays over your mouth half ordering, half begging for you to go down with it and say that yes, that you’ll never leave him, that you’ll stay with him “All mine to fuck, mine, mine, mine, MINE!” he growls with every thrust as the bed slams hard against the wall until you are a babbling incoherent mess.

His brutal pace and words get you quiet soon, too much to even make a sound and hardly even allowing you to breathe, too concentrated in the feeling of his length and him smashing into your ending wall as the overwhelming touch of his hips and his abdomen on yours burns your skin.

The brush of his hair and ragged breathing fanning over your cheek is the only compass of time while the tightness in your belly threatens to snap the moment your teary eyes meet his, mouth on mouth without even kiss, but you smile to him, your warm hand caressing softly the skin of his jaw as he tears into you, feeling incapable of telling him what the voice of your mind has been playing over and over again.

I’m in love with you.

Like sensing your thoughts, his hands abandon your hair. Four trembling fingers cuddling your cheek, carefully and almost scared before closing his eyes, letting his forehead rest on yours as he whispers sweet words of praise only for you to keep, still forcing himself in and out of you. His mouth watering to the sight of your bouncing breast still trapped by your bra.

“ow…I’m gonna..Tomura…I’m gonna…”

The snap of his hips become erratic when finally you come undone on him, eyes rolling back and a cry that tears your throat open when your walls clench around his hardness making him moan as he keeps thrusting in and out, reaching his own end soon after; his hand closing tightly into a fist over the mattress as he grunts with his face hidden on the crook of your neck, filling you warm and slick until he goes soft inside of you.

Tomura pulls out and rests his head on your chest, his heart hammering against your belly, still trying to catch his breath; his fingers tracing mindless patterns over the shape of your waist, as your hands slide between the tangled locks of silver, lips laying little pecks over his crown.

Time slows down, minutes passing and quiet settles, he notices.

Quiet inside of him.

This is all he wanted from the moment he crossed the umbral of your door months ago. The insufferable itch silenced by the calming thump of your heart, fluttering softly behind the gate of your ribs and he wonders if maybe you’d have a room by your core where he could lay his bones to finally rest for a minute from all the rage and hate that burdens him.

Maybe you do have one, hidden and unspoken, a mirror of the one you occupy in the graveyard of his chest where he holds you beautiful and bright and…everything he doesn’t get to hate.

Yeah, he thinks you do. After all, he’s lying in your arms, isn’t it? You had caressed his face and marked his neck and back, all teeth and nails, to then crown him with a wreath of kisses, your body soft and still under his weight, while your hands brush carefully through his scalp.

He knows the feeling, he’s not stupid…but he doesn’t get to speak its name yet.

Is not that bad, after all. Being attached to you and the lullaby of your heartbeat could make him better, smarter, stronger. You could be another reason to fight and destroy. After all, in a society as rotten as this one, you’ll never be allowed to walk by his side if not by putting a bounty on your head too.

What the media would say about you? Would they catalog you as an S class villain? since your quirk is as deadly as it gets, you would be feared and hated. You can practically kill by just looking at someone and he’s not even sure if you really need to look to your target, after all.

And yet you are the kindest person he knows. If someone of the hero commission knew about this, you’d be hunted down despite your service as a doctor, despite your resolution to help whoever needs it, despite caring for those rotten and downthrown. And since you are critical of the system, you’d be reduced to just another animal to put down. Just like him.

Tomura swears he’ll decay every single person on the world before let that happen.

“Tomura…”

He rises his head to look at you, a question drawn across his face.

“Can you…move a little? My bra is killing me.”

“Ow…sorry about that.” He apologizes, curious eyes over the mark that the elastic has left over your skin as he sits by your side.

“Can you help me? I can’t reach the clip…”

“Sure…”  

You bend over to give him better access to your back, feeling his fingers brush over your skin carefully, before liberating you from the elastic straps incrusted on your flesh.

Tomura leans forward, placing soft kisses between your shoulder blades, letting his forehead rest over your spine and the touch is so sweet that it makes you wonder if maybe he does feel the same as you.

You get your answer when his hand moves forward to cup your breast, middle finger carefully up, as the other slides down between your thighs, making you sigh, feeling his hardness brushing your hip.

He nuzzles against your cheek, until you turn to kiss him deeply, warmth pooling between your legs again as his fingers play lazy between your slick entrance and the bundle of nerves. This time though, you take your chance and turn over, sitting on top before taking his wrist to lay kisses over the soft skin of his pulse.

Your quirk flares alive and before Tomura gets to catch on your intentions, his hands stand secured high against the headboard.

“What the…ow fuck!” He moans the moment your hand close over his length, pumping until he’s losing his breath, a ragged laugh scaping his jagged lips “fuck…you are an evil woman.”

“I should be proud if you say so.”

You accommodate over him, lowering until he fills you, pushing his previous release deeper into you.

Your pacing is torturingly slow and intense, soft moans and sweet whispers between languid kissed. Tomura watches hypnotized how your hips ride over the place you two connect, his crimson eyes half lidded as he lets you take him, before finally releasing your hold.

He touches you carefully this time, palming over the curve of your hipbone and your belly, index finger up as he wonders how deep is he, trying to feel himself from the outside, before pushing down to sink deeper into you, hitting the fragile spot where he makes you cry.

“I like you like this…” he speaks softly, looking you up from behind his eyelashes as you ride him slowly.

“How” your word is a whisper against his lips.

“Bare…” he rasps, his voice luring you into his embrace, spilling sweet nothing into his ear as he mumbles over and over again.

“My good girl…you are so good for me…”

This time you reach your peak softly. A sweet thing that fills you gently; walls fluttering around his oversensitive length while you keep rocking him until he stuffs you again, finally both falling back into the mattress side to side, already drifting into sleep, both tired and content.

A light touch catches your attention before falling unconscious. Tomura´s pinky hooks on yours as a silent plea, so you spill a peck over his shoulder before resting your temple on it, a sweet gesture that makes his heart tremble with fear and excitement for all the right reasons.

So, he does what he wants, sliding his arm under your neck and moving your head to rest on his chest. Over his heart he lays a fist for you to grip gently by the wrist before finally crowning you with soft kisses as the steady beat of his heart lulls you to dream.

Chapter 16 (soon)

[emma-nation]

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

[persephones-deadly-nightshade]

Beauty and The Beast

ft. familial relationships

A platonic JasonXSteph      pre-romantic TimSteph

Background: 

The batfamily are loyal protectors. A mix between knights a vigilantes. Jason dies. Jason gets resurrected via the pit. Jason comes back pissed. He returns home though, doesn’t go on a killing spree, slowly incorporates back into the family.  

Jason still dislikes Tim, (Replacement) and Damian (Demon Brat). He is still bitter at Bruce, (B stands for bitch) and resenting Dick(Golden boy/perfect child). He loves Cass (hard not to.)

Anyways something happens, maybe he’s benched Demon Spawns not, pit rage occurs, a guest pops by the door. 

Guest is treated rudely and prepares to curse entire family. 

Alfred and Bruce welcome her in. 

She doesn’t curse yet.

Hears Jason wish he didn’t have family. Family sucks.

Curses him into a beast, transforms his servants into furniture, telling him if he doesn’t feel brotherly love and learn to appreciate family, they’ll stick. The family (Ohana Bitches) intervene to give him a shot to fix this. 

They sacrifice their voices/bodies for time. Each person earns Jason an extra 20 years. (100 total) His family members are like ghosts, unable to communicate with Jason besides occasional impressions. They’ll be back if he ever breaks the curse. 

Jason is horrified at himself and sinks deep into depression. The pit madness rages more often than not. Time is passing all to quickly...

Start of Story:

Meet Steph. She is a pretty girl, but all to smart and spirited for her village. She loves her mother, another smart woman, an nurse from the city who moved from the country at the behest of her controlling husband.

Meet the controlling husband, Arthur Brown, aka the “Gaston” of the story.

He is not a good person, or father, but the town loves him.

He wants a “perfect” daughter. Timid, reserved, demure. Steph is resisting, but soon she won’t be able to put him off. 

Her mother goes into the city for special herbs, needed as the village healer. She ends up seeking refuge in the beast’s castle.  

Alfred, who previously disconnected from the Waynes, becoming more butler than grandpa to keep Jason company, takes care of her.

Jason flashes back to the last woman whom they invited in and pit madness overtakes him. He throws her in the dungeons.

Steph comes looking for her mother, running towards the terrifying castle because without her mom, Arthur Brown would bend her quickly to his will. 

Steph and Jason’s first meeting was... A disaster. 

Think Steph screaming, think Jason screaming back. Think Alfred pushing her into the guest bedroom as the Waynes try to calm Jason the fuck down so he can use the girl to break the curse. 

They are in an awkward limbo for days. 

Alfred, fed up, escorts Mrs. Brown out in exchange for Stephanie, after explaining what the very aro/ace Jason will need from Steph. (Basically reassurance that Steph would be trapped, but zero chance of getting raped or seduced.) 

Because she must not think of him a brother purely for the curse, Steph doesn’t get the full story. 

The first week and a half is Jason avoiding the fuck out of Stephanie and being annoyed at Alfred’s deal. 

Steph is terrified. She rashly agreed to this deal including spending time with a giant strong monster, Alfred is kind, but she hasn’t seen the silver candlestick since he broke the rules. She is fearing for his safety.

Alfred’s fine, just giving Jason an I’m so disappointed in you silence.” 

Eventually, Steph starts poking around. 

To preserve his brother’s privacy, he stops her before she can go into the family wing, and has Alfred show her the library. Steph is bored.

She pokes around more. Jason bodily stands in her way. 

She persistently pokes him into spending time together. Listen, She is really fucking bored out of her mind. 

Alfred refuses to show her the training room, so Jason has to do it.

Less than a month later, he caves. (Steph is annoying persistent)

Her eyes light up at the sight of punching bags and Cass’ equipment, that girls were allowed to fight maybe she could.

She doesn’t ask for permission. 

He catches her throwing a fucking terrible punch. 

He can’t let that stand. 

The fam watches in glee, as the blonde pokes every single one of his buttons, and accidentally/unknowingly manipulates him into spending time with her. (Tim might just be falling in love)

(She out of his league, like a lot)

Invisible family thinks it’s adorable.

Alfred tells her the history of the manor, and about the Batfam spirits. They comfort her when she gets scared, an impression of warmth and safety. 

She learns to differentiate. She notices Tim spending a lot of time, doesn’t know it’s Tim. Alfred Knows. Alfred knows all.    

Eventually Jason begins liking teaching, and instead of just a harsh taskmaster, he becomes more of a mentor. 

Coins her Spoiler after hearing about how she resists her shitty dad. 

Winter comes. He teaches her siege warfare and silent moving through snowball fights and games. 

He teachers her piano. How the fuck is his voice that nice? 

He teachers her to cook and they have ingredient fights. If she can get him in a good mood, he’ll tell silly stories about his family, going all wistful. 

Good things come to an end. She gets word that her father is beating Mrs. Brown because she managed to escape. It’s her fault, her mother is getting hurt.

A worried Jason bans her from going home. 

Steph runs away anyways, with a purple cloak streaming behind her.

Wolves attack. She can’t hold them all off. 

The Red Hood makes an appearance, saving her life. 

The Pit rage comes back, he almost couldn’t protect her. Suddenly her broken body gets replaced with, little Timbo’s, babybat’s, his dad’s, Big Wing’s, and Cass’. All gone because he couldn’t control himself. The depression returns full force. 

He barricades himself in his room. 

Steph punches the punching bag, often. She knows she fucked up. She misses her mentor. Things deteriorate.

The orange rose petals are almost out. 

Jason, unable to stand the sight of Steph after associating her with his family, sends a carriage for her to take home, gives her weapons to stand up for herself easier. 

Steph, split worried between her mother and Jason, takes the opportunity to go home, as Jason will have Alfred, but her mom has nobody. 

She gets home to try to protect her mother, and her father captures her and puts her in a shock color that is programmed to send a jolt of electricity each time he presses the button. (Aka when she disobeys)

Arthur Brown, annoyed that she had been protected from him for that long, and dismayed that she had learned to fight, (That punch to his face was beautiful Steph, the whole Batfam is proud.) Decides to storm Wayne castle. 

Mrs. Brown (’cause I still don’t know her name) notices Steph looking troubled and tells her to escape and send a warning to her new family. 

Steph denies the family part twice before her mom shuts her up with a look and pretty much said, “Steph, he’s like, your perfect older brother. You guys even have nicknames.”

Steph realizes she’s right.

Steph disables collar and runs toward the manor, taking the conveniently located, super secret passage. 

(She didn’t take it home initially because she didn’t know, then Alfred told her after the wolf attack, but it wasn’t an emergency because Jason prepped a carriage.)

So Steph arrives as her father does, he is still the better fighter, so Jason goes up against Arthur Brown as Steph and the furniture/servants take out the mob. 

As they are fighting, it is, of course, the perfect time for a heart-to-heart. 

“Why did you come back?/Why did you avoid me?”

“I can’t lose my brother!/I can’t stand seeing my family hurting!”

“What?!?/What!?! 

“Cool/Sup.”

Arthur Brown gets a lucky hit in when the two are dramatically confessing their new familial bonds. 

Jason falls.

Arthur gloats. 

Steph knocks him the fuck out. (Heartwarming)

Steph then bear hugs Jason, Jason pecks her forehead. 

Swirl of magic...

The servants turn human, the Waynes resolidify. There is a beautiful reunion. Oh, Jason also rebecomes human. (Meh) 

Bonus-

As Tim is reforming, Dick shoves him towards Steph. All the bats think a blushing Tim would be hilarious. 

He ends up a little to close.

Steph seeing a person she does not know directly in her personal space. Promptly bends down and yeets the brick she is holding. (Mwahahaha)

It was the start of a beautiful romance for the ages. 

[stormobsessed]

Avatar: The Last Bondsmith

So, I had made THIS POST about a Zuko Windrunner and his Spren Iroh, and there were a lot of comments about other radiant orders for the other characters, and a strong argument for Zuko not actually being a windrunner because his arc was less about protecting people and more about facing hard truths. That may be Lightweaver, but Lightweaver is personal truths, and Zuko doesn’t have a lot of personal lies, but is entrenched in the lies of his nation. I feel like fixing that is very Truthwatcher. 

Then… this happened, I hope you enjoy. 

The Fire Nation was full of Lightweavers. It was a court of secrets, of hidden faces, of lies. Men and women and children claimed loyalty when they felt fear, claimed morality as they killed innocent, stayed silent when they wanted to speak, and were practiced at confessing to only their spen rather than risking the words aloud. As time wore and generations changed, it came to pass that nearly every radiant in the Nation was accompanied by a cryptid, one corrupted Sja-anat and blessed by Odium to accept voidlight. The Fire Lord claimed that was good, for the Lightweavers were clearly the strongest order of radiants, with powers and abilities that overshadowed all others. He proclaimed across their country that it was this that showed that they alone deserved to rule. 

The Cryptids loved this lie. 

Was it a lie though? After all, they killed Honor and every one of his windrunners when Odium sent a comet leaking voidlight through the sky. 

Odium loved the passion and anger of the Fire nation as they utilized it and stormlight to begin razing the rest of the world to the ground, the cryptids cared not for honorable or right, only true. Sometimes the truth was cruel and ugly. 

Firelord Ozai was not shamed by truths other men dared not speak. He fully confessed to himself that he was cruel, a monster, that his campaign was about personal growth rather than the love of his nation. He held those truths so clearly, that his power was great. Great enough that when he touched his son’s face in a duel and felt dry, flaking skin, he said ‘you are fire’ and it did not disobey. 

Not even when the child screamed. 

The son was failing, only sworn to the first ideal, if any. Ozai had never seen his son’s spren, in fact if any had it would have been his traitorous, Stoneward mother with her weak oaths of being there for others. She’d broken her oaths though. She was not here for her children. In assassinating Azulon and fleeing she’d saved her son, but killed her spen. 

The boy was weak. He was too hot headed, too honest. He wore his heart on his sleeve and said every word that he thought. Sometimes Ozai doubted that he had Truth to speak at all. He was completely unlike his sister, a prodigy who could weave illusion nearly as soon as she could walk. She soulcast before the age of five. She was the most skilled Lightweaver to be born in decades. 

She had to be. She couldn’t reveal that she could not say the last truth, could not make herself try to accept it, even if the ghostly lightweaving vision of her mother that visited every night said it without fail. She couldn’t accept it. After all, if she was a monster without even the love of her mother, then surely no one could blame her for the atrocities she commited, it was simply in her nature. It was why she could smile at the duel, why she could laugh as her brother was sent on an impossible quest, why she could focus on how much closer that made her to the throne. 

Odium liked that, the passion of her people, the passion of her family, her passion. 

Zuko had passion as well, but it was not a kind that Oduim enjoyed. 

So Zuko was banished, for an impassioned speech to save men Odium considered no better than discarded toys. An impassioned plea for a useless passion. 

Zuko was almost relieved, for it gave him the opportunity to hide that his spren was not a cryptid at all. His mistspren, Iroh, spoke in a light accent that almost always had a proverb or a chuckle, and the few times Zuko risked looking into shadesmar, he found a rotund, smiling old man. Upon materializing in the material world, one of the first things he did was hear someone offer a cup of tea to a man who was distraught, and had latched onto that. Zuko could barely say a word without the kindly spren suggesting a tea break. 

Zuko feared the day that he would be material enough to actually carry the tea leaves to a cup. 

But Zuko… couldn’t say the ideals. He didn’t know what they would mean. Not at first. It wasn’t until he left a stonewards home in the Earth Kingdom, after days of hearing nothing but hate and fear towards his people, that he felt the words at his lips. 

“I will seek the truth, even when it is painful to me.” 

“Well done, Prince Zuko.” Iroh had said. “Now, how about some tea.” 

“We’re in the middle of the dessert.” 

“So?” 

“There’s no tea anywhere within a hundred miles of here!” 

“Well, all you need for tea is leaves, yes? I will find pre-tea.” 

“No, it’s not any leaves! You can’t just-” 

But Zuko almost feared that oath, for what did it mean for his mission that would restore him to his home? He was more powerful now, but would that be enough to capture the Bondsmith that he had been chasing for months? 

The bondsmiths were rare, after all, only three spren could form a bondsmith pack, and two had been damaged so dearly that they were as dead as a Spren of their nature could be for nearly a century. There was only one spren whose identity had been unknown, the spren created by the slain honor, the Avatar. 

A century past, when all manner of radiants were formed in all manner of locations, Windrunners found themselves drawn to one another, taking shelter in mountain top homes across the world where they could immediately be sent out to help others. For warriors, they were a peaceful people who desired not to fight, but to protect. Though honor spren bonded men and women of every people back then, nearly every member of the Air Nomads was a windrunner, as the men and women lived and taught their ideals. 

Aang was young when he bonded his spren, not the youngest but still young. The Windrunners wondered why they never saw the boy’s spren after he swore the first ideal, but reasoned that while honor spren were not often shy, each had their own distinct personalities and a timid spren could only help the foolhardy boy. They questioned why he did not use the gravitational lashing, though relaxed when he was able to use the surge of adhesionc Different people excelled at different elements of surge binding after all.

However, Aang was seeing a world that was starting to crack under the pre-war tensions. He saw merchants refusing trades with other nations, sneers and insults and hate. When his two closest friends, Bumi and Kuzon, both confessed that their parents forbade them from playing together, he couldn’t take it. He hated to see the balanced world tearing itself apart and uttered the words with a yell “I will unite instead of divide!” 

He was the youngest bondsmith to ever bond a spren, but the Avatar, a spren element of honor who upheld balance and unity, was sure of its choice oice. However, ironically the bond did nothing but divide him from others his age. It drove a chasm between him and his playmates, as they recognized his unique and great power. When the elders spoke, and threatened to separate the boy of unity from the only family he’d ever known he’d panicked and fled, ending up in a storm and utilizing his powers to create a protective shell around himself and his pet, his ever-renewing stormlight keeping him alive as his body froze. 

As a hundred years passed the world changed. Spren were killed, oaths were broken, and radiants were captured and tortured, until in some places, such as the Southern Water Tribe, no radiants bonded at all. None except for one girl, Katara, the daughter of a chief who saw a decimated people barely able to survive and vowed not to forget them. Who saw their pleas for help being ignored and promised to listen to those without a voice. The edgedancer glided through the stiffest snow like it was clear ice and scaled glaciers like the handholds formed at her whim. She healed the sick and wounded as her brother, Sokka, a non-radiant protected and bore the tribe’s last, hidden shardblade. 

Their father had entrusted the shardblade to him before disappearing to fight in the war, knowing that the benefit to having the blade would be outweighed by the enemies that would seek it, and the allies that were willing to become enemies to obtain it. The blade was large, a straight line of sheer unworldly black. If one were to peak into shadesmar, they would find a peakspren with skin of dark stone following the blade. If they looked closely, they might see the spren tilt its head when the boy lovingly talked to his weapon. 

In this changed world there is also a willshaper. A young girl in a gilded cage who longs to be free and wishes that others have that same option. A girl whose parents immediately, upon seeing cloudy eyes, traveled to the Nightwatcher in search of their boon and curse. Perhaps they hadn’t been clear enough, for they asked that their daughter could see the world, but her eyes did not grow clear. However, as the child began to walk upon stone itself, discarding fancy shoes and plush carpets, she found that with each step she could feel and hear the ground beneath her feet. The stone would tell her where she was, what was near, and what those around her were doing. She found a vision far beyond mere sight of the eyes, a vision constantly being renewed by light leeched from the stones themselves, just enough to keep this one power constant. This was the boon of the Nighwatcher. What was the curse? None can say. Perhaps it was that the girls parents would never truly understand the gift of the boon. Perhaps it was that the girl would never feel happy in the left they wished to foist upon her. Perhaps it was something else entirely. It didn’t matter, for when the Bondsmith, the Edgedancer, and the Shardbearer came, she could no more stay with her parents than she could break her oaths. She was taking the chance to be free. 

There were others in this world as well. There was a warrior in a green dress and war makeup, who had bonded no spren but enjoyed watching the windspren dance around her fans. The Honor spren were said to all have died in the genocide but… she couldn’t help but hope as she protected her people, then left to protect others that needed her. 

There was a princess with white hair, with startling insights into the truth of the spirit world and who would one day use her stormlight to use regrowth on a spirit, condemning herself to death on wounds she didn’t have light enough to heal. 

There was an elderly inventor, an elsecaller who had used transportation to bring himself and his crippled son to a safe place where he could work on creating fabrials to stop the war. Though, when he was discovered by the Fire Nation his work did nothing but perpetuate it. 

There was a teen of messy hair, whose spen formed dual blades. He was a skybreaker, bound to the ideal that the Fire Nation was evil, that their very presence in the world was a wrong that needed to be corrected. He lashed himself into trees and created a home for children, teaching them his ways and bonds. 

There was a girl of the Fire Nation, who was so often mistaken for her own many siblings that she was determined never to forget anyone else. She danced on the world, walking wires like it would be impossible that she should fall, gliding when others walked. 

Her friend, a willshaper who had been trapped by chains of propriety and expectation, who spoke to the ground to form weapons of peerless balance, who would appear without warning, and whose enemies often went down before knowing they were in danger. 

Zuko sought the Avatar’s Bondsmith, facing foe after foe as he travelled the world. He could find no edgedancer or truthwatcher who could heal the scar that marked him traitor, that marked him an honorless traitor. His surges were weak with the second oath, and Iroh could not form a blade until the next was spoken, leaving him with simple steel. 

In fact, it wasn’t until he had achieved his purpose, the Avatar-Bondsmith supposedly dead through the bold of ribbon that Azula had soulcast into lightening, that he was able to profess the next ideal. Name restored, sitting at the right hand of his father, he realized that there was no truth in the Fire Nation. He realized that everything he had learned his whole life were beautiful lies. He knew the truth now, and Iron sat at his shoulder with a weakening voice, imploring him not to break his oath. 

It was only then that he knew what words were pushing at his mouth, as he whispered to himself, broken, “I will see the truth declared, in spite of those who would try to hide it.” 

When he stood, Iroh was a set of Dual Doas in his hand, and he marched to confront his father on the day that Odium’s Voidlight would be eclipsed. 

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ I NEED YOU MORE ❜

with Nestor Oceteva, and teen!reader as his daughter.

Request: Hello! A Imagine about Nestor's daughter? A teen girl who hate Miguel,maybe cause she ils scared by him ? And that's cause some problem between Nestor and his daughter. And she thinks he gonna kick her ass out of the home like with her mom or in intership (not sure of the english word... I mean school where u sleep here during week) . Maybe with Mayans apparition ? 🙈 Ending fluff ? ❤❤🙏

BY ANON

Word count: about 4.1k and I'm not even sorry.

Warnings: angst af, minors consuming alcohol and stealing a car, slightslightslight mention of violence (this sounds too bad just to warn you of a slap) and I don't know what more. Actually, I don't even know if these are warnings, or need to be warned. I'm a clown.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: @angels-reyes

Masterlist.

“Dad, you promised me”. 

Nestor sighs closing his eyes for a second, before turning around to face you, wearing the holsters over the black shirt. He doesn't know what to say, seeing the letdown gesture on your face.

“Dad…”

“I know what I said, (Y/N)”. He just says, checking the guns and the loaders before keeping them on both sides of his body. “But Mikey needs me”.

“I need you too”. You reply cross-armed with a broken thread of voice.

Turning on your feet, you leave the room being followed by the mexican, who is trying to find the most adequate words to say. But he knows that you are right, closing the door onto his nose. Falling down on your bed, you can't help but finally break in crying. Your father can hear you and that really breaks his heart, but he has to leave much to his regret. Miguel said some days ago that he would be free this weekend and you were ready to travel to Los Angeles tomorrow morning. As always, that wasn't something to happen. It's the third time you've delayed the trip, being alone for the rest of the week, because surprisingly Nestor has to work. And you understand his job and what he does, but sometimes Miguel looks like he's jealous. Of you, of your relationship, of whatever. Maybe he is his best friend, his brother, but his boss first. So your father has to obey his orders.

When you're sure he's gone, you step out of your dorm, going downstairs and cleaning the tears on your shirt. Maybe you're on time to call some friend and have a beer in that bar that doesn't care about your age because ‘you are Nestor Oceteva's daughter’. It should be the other way around, but who are you to question those kinds of decisions. Typing by heart your best friend's number, you place the phone on your ear, opening the fridge to find something to eat.

“Hey, babygirl”.

“Hey, corazón. Where are you?”

“Home, watching a documentary”.

“What 'bout?” You ask, grabbing yesterday's thai leftlover, before closing the fridge.

“Charles Manson. That… fucking guy was fucking crazy”.

“Yeah, I've seen something about him”.

Taking a fork from the main drawer, you jump over the counter to sit on, putting the speaker on your phone to leave it by a side of your legs.

“So, what's up? Are you exc—”.

“My father canceled it again”. You interrupt her, eating a bunch of noodles. “Do you… want to hang… out? I think he left the car here”.

“Are you gonna drive your father's car? Without license?”

“Do you want to hang out or not?”.

“Yeah, yeah. Give me… dunno, twenty minutes?”

“Thirty, I'm having somekind of dinner”. You reply, looking at the box between your hands with an incredulous gesture.

“Okay, amor, see you here”.

Hanging up the call, you hurried up to finish the box and get ready for a girls night. It's not the first time that you do it and of course it's not going to be the last. But even if you try to convince yourself that you're not trying to call Nestor's attention, you know you are doing it. And you know it at the exact moment you find the keys of the black SUV. Miguel's car. The one he drives when he has to work. Probably, one of the other security men picked him up. You don't care. You're going to take this car, and not the personal one. Having one last look on the mirror, turning over the sneakers and putting well on the black skirt and the transparent crop top, you leave the house straight to the garage. Clicking the control remote to lift up the door, you lead your steps towards the big Range Rover.

Once that the engine is on, you speed up to see your house getting smaller through the rear-view, enjoying how easy it's to drive an automatic car without caring about the gears. And of course, Lara starts to freak out when you appear in her neighborhood with such a monster of four wheels.

“Girl, are you kidding me?” She screams as soon as she sits by your side. “Shit… Nestor is gonna kill you…”

“Nope, if he doesn't find out. We're just gonna have some beers, what can go wrong, ah?” 

“This car is… fucking amazing”. 

“He put me puppy eyes to drive him”. You joke with her, before continuing to your destiny.

Of course, it's not your fault. And if it is, you hush it by turning up the volume of the music, before you get out of control driving out of Santo Padre. Reaching the pub some minutes later, you're ready to enjoy the night. Shots of tequila sliding over the wet wooden bar, cheering with your friend and drinking them in one gulp, mixing it with the toasted beers. One after another. Your body dances following the rhythm of the rock music playing on, singing the lyrics as if you were in a concert and having some fun with your best friend. Lara and you have known each other forever, and sixteen years together have given for many situations. Some better than others, but always by your side whenever you have needed her, mostly when you have needed your father. You could give your life for her, and she could give her life for you.

But that good time ends up when your phone rings in your hand, showing the name of your father on it. Rolling your eyes, you decline the call, placing an arm on Lara's shoulders.

“What if we ha—have a bottle of tequila and we le—leave? I know a place…” Making the same gesture that the chefs proffer in some kind of kiss when a dish is really delicious, she nods energetically, ignoring the new incoming call.

At least this time, you have some care driving the heavy SUV, taking your time because of your blurred gaze. It's not the first time you drive drunk, but this car is different from your father's and he needs it to work. And maybe you're starting to think that it wasn't a good idea, but by the other hand, he earned it. It's supposed that you should be sleeping and resting for your father and daughter's travel, but he preferred to cancel it to spend some more time with Miguel. That's why he didn't take the Range Rover. Probably his best friend had another discussion with his wife. The crazy bitch who appeared from nowhere and tried to be your friend just because you were Nestor's family. You're not sure who you hate the most, if Miguel, or if Emily.

And you are so absorbed thinking about it that you don't see the stop signal, passing it away and colliding with another car. A cops one. Raising your head from the airbag, as Lara does cursing and complaining in spanish, you find out how fucked you are right now. Luckily, you just hit a side of the trunk, but when you see them stepping out of the patrol holding his guns and pointing at the SUV, you know that you're going to be much more fucked when they call your father.

“Get out of the car and put the hands on your heads!”

Of course, you two obey while one of the cops asks for another patrol and some help by the walkie. As soon as they recognize you, they put the guns down with a heavy snort. If you hadn't rammed them, they would let you go. But they need to explain why their car is a little destroyed. 

“Are you hurt?” Dylan looks at both, after giving the advertisement. Lara nods head in silence, so you do.

“Turn around, (Y/N), I have to arrest you”. Frankie says grabbing the handcuffs from his belt after keeping his weapon.

“Please, don't arrest her too, it was my fault”. You beg them, raising both wrists towards him. “Please… It was my fault”.

“Can you hire an uber?” The oldest turns at your friend, who nods again. “Do it”.

“(Y/N), I'm stayi—”.

“No, Lara! You're leaving. I will call you tomorrow, I promise”.

If you were drunk at some point of the night, you're not anymore sitting in the interrogation room, wearing a jacket that Frankie gave you of the police division and a cup of hot coffee between your hands, supported over the table. You're not sure how many time have passed since you came, but when a uniformed man opens the door you know by the gesture on his face that it's time to go home. From the other end of the police station, you can hear your father shouting like never before. Full of rage and really furious. Miguel doesn't look much happy when you reach them, assuming that he paid for the penalty fee of driving without license and drunk, for the patrol and the bond to let you go. You heavy gulp bowing the head to your feet, licking your lips about to cry. No, you're not trying to pity them, you're shaking because you have never been more scared in your entire life.

“What the fuck were you thinking, ah?” Your father leans forward facing you, with an angry whisper.

“Hermano, aquí no”. (Brother, not here). Miguel mutters, placing a hand on his forearm, hoping that he calms down. But he doesn't.

“I'm talking to my daughter”. He turns for a second, before giving you back all his attention. “Mírame, chamaca”. (Look at me, girl).

“Dad, I'm s—”.

“Don't you fucking dare to say that you're sorry, 'cause we both know you're not”. He urges you to look at him, grabbing your chin with more strength that you can deal with, pointing you with a ringed forefinger. “You took my fucking car. You drove drunk. And you ran over a fucking cops car. Are you fucking stupid?”

“Nestor…” Miguel calls him again, but he doesn't reply to his brother back.

“Do you thought just for a fucking second how I felt when they called me, to tell me that my daughter had a fucking car accident and that she tripled the allowed alcohol rate?”.

“That's all you cared about?” You speak then, slapping his hand away from your face, shrugging your shoulders. “The car? The shame of… being living this situation?”

“Ah, ah. I'm not falling into your fucking game of emotional blackmail, chamaca. Not this fucking time”.

“This wouldn't have happened, if you had been at home. Sleeping. Getting ready for our trip. But… your work is always more important than spending some time with me!”

“That's not t—”.

“Oh, for god's sake! Just for once, Miguel, can you please shut the fuck up? If you paid for me, good! Thank you! I'll give it to you back, but don't fucking call me liar!”

“Watch your fucking mouth!” Your father yells at you, grabbing your left forearm and shaking it with a strong pull. “You're gonna be grounded until you're eighteen, ¿me oíste?”

“Jeez… Of course... I gave you the perfect excuse to keep hanging with your ‘best friend’ forgetting that you have a daughter… You're the worst fath—”.

You can't finish the sentence, when the back of his hand crosses your face to the other side, feeling a slight stinging stab running through your lower lip, before tasting the metallic flavor of blood. 

“Brother, don't”. Too late to stop him, Miguel. “Don't do that again”.

You're shocked with your gaze on the floor and a hand on your cheek, trying to figure out what just happened frowning slowly. 

“I hate you…” You say in a low thread of voice, with some tears falling down from your eyes.

Three words that you didn't think you could say, but here they are, pressing the sleeve cuff against your lip to contain the red liquid starting to walk right to the exit with the clear intention of getting away from him.

“No, no, no, hermano. Déjala”. (Brother, leave her). Miguel stops him again, grabbing his arm again when you begin to run, pushing the street door to go downstairs. 

Your cry gets somewhat louder, standing in front of your father's mate for a second and looking at they're disappointed gesture, before continuing your steps to the right side of the street not knowing where you want to go. You just need to walk, even if it's cold outside and the jacket it's not enough to keep you warm. Turning the corner you hear the cars engines coming closer, but although you think they're going to stop to pick you up, they don't. Nestor is driving the first one and he doesn't look at you passing you away. The pain increases, oppressing your chest and concentrating in your throat. Now you're starting to regret what you did, but it wasn't a reason to treat you like he did, hitting you. Slapping you in front of everybody. And it's worse the fact that he hit you for the first time, than the fact of who was looking at you. 

The next time you raise up your eyes from your shoes, you find yourself in Marcus neighborhood, guessing that your brain was working for you this time. Knowing that it's your only option. Knowing that he's not going to judge you, but try to understand you and give you the best advice. Ringing the doorbell when you reach his house, you stand on the porch with both arms crossed around your chest, rubbing one leg against the other trying to find some warmth on every move until he welcomes you.

“Te andaba esperando, mija”. (I was waiting for you, girl). He says with a soft smile on his lips, opening his arms to hug you tight. “Come in, you're freezing”.

In silence, you practically obey crossing the door to the inside, taking off the cops jacket to hang it on the coat rack. It's not the first time you go to him looking for some appropriate words for the occasion, and he never complains. You know him since six years ago, and he has always been so gentle and helpful.

“Why don't you have a shower while I prepare you a sandwich? Are you hungry?” He asks, placing an arm over your shoulders.

With a fleeting smile on your lips, you nod. 

“Okay, hurry up”.

Following the hallway to the guest room, you close the door to open the wardrobe, finding there your bag with some comfy clothes from the last time you had to stay there. The shower doesn't take you too much, feeling better after getting warm and clean, fixing up your lip as soon as it stops bleeding. You meet the one that is like your tío on the main table of the living room, with a sandwich, a napkin and a glass of milk. Sitting on, the man rests his arms over the wood, looking at you devouring your food.

“Nestor told me what happened”.

“Did he tell you about the trip?”

“Not tonight, but the whole week. All the time, mija”.

Shaking your hands above the dish to clean them from the bread, you raise an eyebrow towards him.

“He was very excited to go with you to Los Angeles”. He explains, as if it was necessary. “He told us everything that he wanted to show you. Hollywood, the Griffith's observatory, Santa Mónica…”

“It's the third time he leaves me on the road like a pinche perro, tío”.

“Yes, I know. And I know that he was disappointed with himself for not being able to take you to. Have you thought about that?”

You keep silent, bowing your eyes to the nibbled sandwich. No, you didn't. You were too busy being egoist, not asking how he felt about it.

“We have a… different job from other men. It's risky, complicated and we never know if we're going to come back home. But the time that we spend with our families, it's the most precious time for us. I talk with my daughter every single day by video call. And I take advantage of the minimal time to drive to Oaktown, to see her. To have lunch, a coffee… Whatever”. He says, holding your hands over the table to intertwining his fingers with yours. “For you is easier. You live together. And I'm not asking you to normalize how much he works, but to understand that everything he does, he does it for you, mija. To give you the life he couldn't have”.

“I just want to be… some time with him, tío Marcus. This is not… because of the trip, I swear. But, I can be for days without seeing him at home. And… And… everything I can think of, it's that something wrong happened to him”. You're crying again, trying to express your feelings and your emotions, while the mexican listens to you attentively. “I know I didn't have to take his car, nor another. I didn't have to drink, or escape from home. I was just… feeling alone, and sad, and…”

“Alcohol it's not the solution, mija”.

“I know…”

“And Miguel isn't your enemy”.

Yes, you know that too, but acknowledge it out loud it's not an option. You feel stupid enough for tonight.

“You should talk with Nestor, tell him how you feel and, of course, tell him that you are sorry. I'm sure you didn't, did you?”

“I don't think he wants to… hear me, or see me right now, tío”.

“(Y/N), never forget that you are his daughter. The most beautiful gift that God gave him. Nothing, and no one could change that. Never”.

With this hangover, the last thing you want to do is front facing what you did last night. But Marcus thought that you shouldn't waste more time. Stepping out of the SUV, when it stops in front of Miguel's house, you take a deep long breath with your heart racing. Your hands are sweating and your legs are trembling, walking towards the main door being slightly pushed by your tío. Coming in, you follow your father's voice, sounding tired and upset, talking with his boss about a trip to Washington. Washington D.C., where your mother lives.

“I think it's the best option, brother. It will suit her”. 

Through the opened door, you can see them giving you their backs. Miguel is standing up behind your father, pointing something on the screen of the laptop, while Nestor is sitting at the desk.

“Please, don't”. You just say with a broken tone of voice, about to cry.

The men turn around facing you.

“Dad, I'm so—sorry for what I did… I'm sorry fo—for crashing your car, Miguel… but do—don't send me to Washington… please”. You beg taking a step closer.

Miguel narrows one of his shoulders, before leaving you alone and closing the door of his own office. Nestor gets up from his chair, resting his body against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Then you notice that he looks so different as he usually does. A bump tying his curly hair, wearing sweatpants and a shirt, and two black bags under his eyes. Now you know what Marcus was trying to explain to you. 

“Dad, it will never gonna happen again, I swear. I pro—promise… I promise you. No car, no alcohol, no going out, no nothing. I will stay at home. All the ti—time. I promise”. You continue begging with all your efforts, while he keeps silent. “I get it, okay? You ha—have to work. You have to work a lot and I promise I will ne—never complain about it again… I will settle with… hav—having any time with you. Por poquito que sea”. (No matter how little).

He doesn't say anything, rubbing the bridge of his nose, uttering a heavy sigh. You're getting more and more nervous. Your whole anatomy is shaking, tasting the salty tears that flood in your lips.

“Lo—Look… this morning I fo—found a job that I co—could take this summer”. Your father looks at you, taking off your phone from a pocket to unlock it, offering it to him so he can read the offer. “It's in a caf—cafeteria… Eleven dollars per hour. It's not mu—much… but I could pay Miguel for everything”.

While you highlight everything you have to pay for, you make some gesture with your fingers counting them under his attentive gaze. He looks surprised, even if he's trying to hide it from you.

“I will do an—anything, dad. I wanna be with you… Please, don' leave me”.

You have never felt so desperate, so broken, so sad. You can't barely breathe, not knowing if you're having a panic attack, an anxiety one, or you're just dying because of the pain imagining you're not going to see him for a long, long time. You never had a good relationship with your mother, and your father is the person you love the most in the world. You literally can't live without him.

“Papá, say something… please”.

The only thing he does is look at the broken screen of your phone, before giving it to you back licking his lips.

“I wasn't talking about the city, but about the county”. He finally speaks, grabbing the laptop as you come closer to have a look. “There's a campground on Mount Rainier. It's a national park surrounded by forests. People camp there and… go hiking, exploring nature. I was more into buying two trail bikes”.

“Aren't you…?”

“Seriously, (Y/N), who the fuck do you think I am?” Narrowing his eyes, he shakes his head, leaving away the laptop.

“I'm sorry… I just… hear yo—”.

“Nothing is what it seems to be”.

“I know… and I'm truly sorry, dad”.

“I'm sorry for hitting you last night. Let me see it”. Cupping your cheek into his hands, he takes a look at the small gap on your lower lip, leaning to kiss your forehead before hugging you with all his strength. “I'm sorry for setting you apart, mi amor. I didn' mean to do it”.

“I know, dad”. You whisper against his chest, feeling somewhat better when you're able to stop crying.

“You have to talk with Mikey, okay?” He says, pulling himself away and caressing your hair. You just nod clearing your tears.

Going out from the office, clinged to your father's waist, he leads you to the kitchen. His friend is there, having a sip from a mug of coffee resting against the counter. Leaving the drink over it, he stands up waiting for some words.

“Miguel, I am… sorry about last night. About taking your car and driving it after drinking… too much tequila”.

“It's okay, I accept your apologies”. He says then with a firm tone.

“I… ahm… I told my dad that I found an… offer job in a cafeteria, to pay you the bills”. You reply, showing him too on your phone. “Probably I will have to… work a double shift for… dunno, maybe ten years to afford it. But I will give it to you back”.

“You don't have to do it”.

“Yes, I have. I crashed it and I was arrested. That's a… lot of money, but I will earn it”.

Miguel looks at you father, visibly surprised because of your insistence and that you're being more responsible than they thought you will be. You sure they thought that you would set them on fire, or something like that. But here you are, swallowing your pride and trying to do the correct thing. 

“I want to make you… have clear the fact that I don't hate you, and that I am not your enemy, (Y/N). Your father is the only person I blinded trust in. We've been friends long before you were born and when he told me he was about to have a daughter, I was more excited than anyone”. Now, you are the surprised one, watching him grab an empty mug to pour some coffee into it before offering it to you. “He's my family, so you do. Sí lo entiendes, ¿verdad?” (Do you understand it, right?”

You nod pursing your lips, holding the drink.

“It's true that sometimes I forgot that he has a house and a daughter to attend to, but I don't do it consciously. I have a son too, I know how it feels to work too much, come back home tired and don't be able to spend time with your family. So, I had an idea”. He does a pause, raising a hand towards the close stook for you to sit on. “I need someone to help me to transcribe my countability books, look for money losses from the last years of my father's empire. And Nestor told me you like… numbers”.

“Yes, I… I do”.

“So, what if to pay my bills, you help me with that? It's a way to show you that I trust you too and that I want you closer too. Everybody wins. You will see your father more often, I will solve my… little problem with the accounts and maybe we can start to be friends”.

Jumping off from the stool, you hug him. You hug him like you never thought you would do one day. And now you're seeing how wrong you were about him.

“But first, enjoy the week with your father and try not to kill himself riding through the forest”. He chuckles, palming gently your back.

“A week?” You frown confused, pulling yourself away and turning to your father smirking with both hands inside the pockets of his pants. “Like… a whole week? From Monday to Sunday?”

“Actually… from Sunday to Sunday. We're leaving tomorrow”.

Not knowing when you have began to cry again, Nestor surrounds you with both arms against his chest, feeling a little more stupid after finding out what they were doing before you came to the house. Leaving some kisses on your head, your father urges you to look at him.

“Let's prepare the trip, okay? I also need to sleep for some… long, long, long hours”. Taking off from his right pocket the Cartel's phone, he leaves it on the counter. “I'm not gonna need it”.

“You sure?” Miguel jokes with him, grabbing it to keep it.

“Fucking sure, hermano”.

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