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koa-international · 8 months

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➤ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ

[𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 ‘𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭’ 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲/𝐆𝐍!𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

Synopsis: Sergeant [Y/Name] ‘Rico’ [L/Name] of the Los Vaqueros was found on the bank of the river that runs through Las Almas when they were on the brink of death, little did the Colonel know of their history— and how deep and rich it runs

C/W: Canon typical violence, fighting, blood and death, brief mentions of torture, canon inaccuracies (in regards to Simon’s backstory involving Roba), depictions of body trauma and death, google translated Spanish

A/N: Salutations and good tidings! I’ve wanted to create a blog for all my fixations for a long time but it was the MW3 trailer that finally kicked my ass into gear to do it! I hope you enjoy! <3

－

Ghost considered himself to be a man with little —if not nonexistent at all— emotion, he was violent and calculated and he was built from the darkness that creeps around corners and settles in the weakest parts of one’s mind.

He wouldn’t think of himself as one who’d have emotional attachments on any sort, not since his mother, brother and nephew. Not since he’d lost that kid, that kid from Roba’s cartel that stitched up his wounds, fed him, medicated him properly and cared for him as best they could… that kid that he could very well and truly call his own. [Y/Name].

It’d been five years exactly, not a single second unaccounted for since that day they’d gone over the cliffside at the expense of his hesitance. But he’d had good reason to be hesitant at the time.. at least that’s what the reasonable part of him told himself to quell the guilt that weighed heavy on his heart.

Roba had escaped them both and they joined together to finally end him once and for all, Simon trusting of their presence after the countless times [Y/Name] had aided him when he was under Roba’s control. Shockingly, they had bonded.. and bonds built in the blood of trauma are the strongest bonds of all.

See, [Y/Name] had been part of Roba’s cartel since they were eleven years old. It’d been their birthday, which instead of having cake and ice cream, presents and family and friends to celebrate— their birthday was and will always be tarnished by the blood of their mother.

Stabbed through the neck with a steak knife wielded by their father, the man in an outrage as alcohol poisoned his mind and lit his anger into a ferocious uproar. Enough of an emotional reaction to murder their mother where she stood protective and firm in front of them.

[Y/Name] reacted instinctively, the desperation to survive igniting an uproar to light beneath their skin. Blood lit ablaze as it ran like acid through their veins, they lunged their father and tackled him to the ground. Utilizing that burn to ignite a strength in their body they disarmed him and turned the weapon on murderer instead. Roaring angrily as they willed all their pent up emotions at his abuse and neglect to guide their hand to wildly stab his neck and face over and over again.

And [Y/Name] could still feel the sickening warmth of their mother’s blood splattering their face when the tip of the knife punctured through her nape. Now even thicker and heavier as their father’s blood erupted from the knife wounds they had inflicted.

And every single day of their birthday since, they lock themselves away and scrub wildly at their face. Furious attempts to be rid of the phantom weight of the viscous matter on their face— the tingle of droplets gliding down their chin.

But no matter how hard they tried.. they’d always see the same blood soaked face looking back at them when they lifted their head to eye the mirror before them.

Ghost wasn’t aware of this of course, because he didn’t even know they were still alive. He was sure the bullet Roba had fired at them was an instant kill, because they had slumped and fallen backwards over the cliffside Roba’s mansion in Las Almas oversaw.

He’d only had the opportunity to shoot them because Simon couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger minutes prior when [Y/Name] had Roba pinned to their body. It was a perfectly clean shot.. but they were in the way. And Simon had refused to be the cause of their death, outright refused to be the reason he’d lost the final piece of normalcy he had. His only family.

But it seemed whatever higher power there was had intended to take [Y/Name] away from him one way or another. Because in his hesitance you had seen fear and when they asked if he could do it Roba seized the opportunity that Simon’s brief moment of reluctance opened up. Thrashed out of their hold, spun around and shut them right through the chest.

Simon doesn’t remember the cry he wailed out when their body slumped before falling backwards and over the cliffside. He remembers firing three bullets at the back of Roba’s head and rushing the cliff’s sheer edge to see if he could find any semblance of them. But the heavy rainfall and darkened overcast sky made it nearly impossible… and he willed himself to make the journey back home. To England. Without [Y/Name]

“I’ve always wanted to go to England, there’s so many fascinating land marks and beautiful places there.”

“Stick with me through this last one kid and I’ll take ya there.”

“Really?!”

“Promise. Ya with me?”

“To the end of the line Si. I’d follow you anywhere.”

Ghost grit his teeth hard, grinding them together and tightening up his jaw at the abrupt eruption of longing that sat heavy in his stomach. Longing for his kid. Brought upon him by the memory of the conversation he had shared with them the night before he lost them at Roba’s mansion. And the memory itself ignited in his head at the location he was being flown to now.

Las Almas. The same Las Almas that grounds Roba’s mansion on the outskirts. The mansion that he burned to the fucking ground.

“Alright, L.T?”

Ghost spared the Scot at his side a single look out of the corner of his eye, huffed in acknowledgment of his question then grunted out his affirmation.

Soap pressed his lips together at Ghost’s blunt and relatively nonexistent reply, though he wasn’t entirely too shocked by it he still found the single grumble answer a bit off putting all the same.

“Ever been to Las Almas before?” He tried again, this time hoping for more than a fucking grunt—

“Once.”

—not exactly better but not worse either.

“Yeah? When?”

“Mind your own Sergeant. Fuckin’ ‘ell.”

Before Soap could say anything further the heli landed and Ghost thanked the gods above for the momentary reprieve from the pestering Scot. And they both stood when the platform lowered to the ground, on the tarmac standing in front of an armored vehicle stood a tall man.

They walked down the platform to introduce themselves.

“Alejandro!” Soap greeted.

“Sergeant MacTavish!”

“Call me Soap!”

Alejandro nodded before he was turning to the tall Brit stood beside Soap.

“Lieutenant. Laswell says they call you Ghost.”

“Actually I believe he prefers to be—“

“That’ll do!”

Soap puckered his lips at the dismissive shout of Ghost’s scold and then they were both giving Alejandro their full attention again. They followed in step as he turned and began to walk away.

“I’ve never been to Mexico,” Soap shouted over the still loud and prominent whir of helicopter blades powering down.

“This isn’t Mexico,” Ale responded. “This is Las Almas.”

Ghost quelled down the rising feeling of guilt and despair in his stomach, swallowing it when it slithered up his chest to choke him with it’s significance. When he thought he’d manage a sentence without cracking he spoke, “Shepherd’s contractors are inbound to reinforce. They’re bringing hardware, they’ll need room.”

“My base is your base.”

“Good. Where’s Hassan?”

“Cartel safe-house. Ten klicks from here. Get in.” Alejandro replied, having led the two to an armored vehicle at the front of the line and stepped to the passenger side as Ghost and Soap moved to the doors in the back.

Ghost and Soap opened their doors on either side of the vehicle respectively and were thrown off by the presence of a soldier already inside. They got over it quickly and climbed into the car, shutting the doors behind them and then staring at the soldier in between them.

Who had yet to greet them.. or even move.

Ghost couldn’t stop staring. He felt a twinge in his chest, like a brief yet meaningful pull to the soldier sat beside him and he huffed in confusion at the tug. Then huffed in annoyance at it’s persistence. It’s not like he knew them… right?

When they looked up Alejandro was climbing into the passenger’s seat and there was a man already sat behind the wheel. The Colonel took the liberty to introduce the driver and the soldier sat between them.

“My second in command; Rodolfo Parra, and my most trusted and loyal; Sergeant Rico.”

“Just Rico?”

“It’s their callsign hermano.. what they prefer to go by at all times.” Rudy and Alejandro looked into the rearview mirror, and found Rico hadn’t moved an inch. Not a twitch of a muscle or even a ruffle of their gear.

And they quirked one sided smirks at the way they were presenting themself, both of them having a single thought regarding their beloved Rico. Dramatic lil’ shit.

“Estoy asustado de los fantasmas.” Rudy joked as he looked away from the sergeant in the back and to Alejandro who grinned at him before turning in his seat to look at Soap. Soap, who he could see occasionally stealing glances at the sergeant sat next to him. Ghost seemed to be curious about them too, not hiding his brief glances well.. if at all.

“Do you know Spanish?”

“No.”

“You will.”

—

A/N: I think this is a nice little introduction to the character, at least that’s what I like to think of this fic as! Hope you enjoyed! The plan was just to introduce Rico, I’m not sure if I really want to write out the campaign from this point forward or not! We’ll see how this does and decide then! Though I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t get much traction, this blog is new and still very small so.. but if you did find it I hope you liked it!

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw22 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #ghost x reader #soap x reader #alejandro x reader #rudy x reader #x platonic!reader #platonic reader #platonic imagine #platonic relationships #cod x platonic reader

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theraggedygirl11 · 4 months

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Kad nemam tebe sa mnom su moji demoni

Part 1

SUMMARY: Kris is a succubus, but he hates what he is and what he's forced to do for his demon sire. Then he meets a photographer, Damon, and something special blooms between them.

PAIRING: Kris Guštin/Damon Baker

WARNINGS: (kinda implied) drug and alcohol abuse, implied non-con (not between Kris/Damon), sex (not too explicit), hurt/comfort, angst/fluff, swearing

WORDS COUNT: 2.434

LINK: AO3

NOTES: Before diving into the first chapter of this short fic, I'd like to thank @anxious-witch for beta-reading it and giving me really good advice while I was writing it and @lahobbitdiazeroth for fangirling with me, even if she's not in the fandom (kinda).

This is my first ever work I publish in English. I got inspired by Hazbin Hotel and Damon's photoshoot with our guys, and I had to write something.

I'm sorry for the angst you'll find in it, but you know who to blame.

If you want to listen to the song that inspired me, here's a link. There's also an English version (and maybe one in your own language, this series got translated into many languages). Keep in mind that it mentions toxic relationships, abuse and trauma.

È un inferno tutto mio (This hell is all mine)

Me lo sono scelto io (And I chose all of this)

Tu sei il mio veleno (You are my poison)

Dammi il tuo veleno (Give me your poison)

Non possono farne a meno (I can’t help it)

Mi scivola in gola e va giù (It slithers into my throat and goes down)

Veleno, ne sono pieno (Poison, I’m full of it)

Anche questa notte per me forse è l’ultima (This night could be my last one too)

Dimmi che ti piace, baby (Tell me you like it, baby)

Sono tuo, fa ciò che più ti va (I’m yours, do whatever you want)

Un giorno tu mi ucciderai (One day you’ll kill me)

Col tuo veleno (With your poison)

“I took enough pictures.” Said the photographer after a couple of hours, smiling at his model.

Kris looked at the guy in front of him, hair almost as black as coal and deep dark brown eyes, then stood up from the ground. He was used to being alone with other men, but the more he was with this human, the more he felt a weird feeling growing inside of him. He didn’t know how to name this sensation.

“May I go, then?” Kris asked.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll call you when the pictures are ready.” The photographer nodded. “If you need to recompose yourself, you can stay here, I’ll give you some privacy.”

“No, don’t worry. It’s ok.”

Kris glanced at the human, then went to the wardrobe area to change his clothes. He felt his eyes on his body. Why was he feeling so uncomfortable? God damn, he was a fucking succubus, he shouldn’t feel like this when a human was staring at him! Because that photographer was enchanted by his beauty, right? He should be.

But Kris perceived this specific human in a completely different way because he was looking at him differently, like he wanted to analyse him. Look right into his soul. If only he still had one.

* * *

Another night, another lover, another soul to bring closer to damnation. It didn’t matter if it was a male or a female human being. He still enjoyed the physical proximity, the skin-on-skin contact, the moans. He was still a demon that fed on pleasure and sexual intercourses.

But that night his mind flew to another place, even if the man above and inside him was extremely gorgeous and he liked how he moved and his attention on him. For a moment he saw that photographer instead of this random human. He didn’t even remember his name. But, just for a second, he imagined he was there, with him, loving him.

He closed his eyes and let an intense moan out. No, he needed to focus on this other man, on his soul, his job was to corrupt it. Thus, he closed the image of the photographer in a small and secluded corner of his mind and gave all his attention to this stranger.

At the same moment, not so far from where Kris was, that same photographer, whose name was Damon, was checking the photos he took of that beautiful and young man. His mind went back to a couple of days before when he had met him in a cafe in the centre of Ljubljana. He was alone at a table, his glance was wandering around observing the people in that place. Damon had noticed a trace of sombreness in his bright blue-greenish eyes.

He decided to approach him, talk to him, be friendly to him before asking him to take some pictures. The guy seemed kind, but there was a trace of sadness even in his voice. And he could see it even more in his photos. Kris, that was his name, was trying to be seductive, but that gloom was still perceivable behind his piercing look.

Damon stopped his scrolling on a photo where Kris was standing against a wall, head slightly tilted on a side, hair covering one of his eyes, an arm raised and bent behind his head. He was wearing a simple white shirt with long sleeves. His golden necklace with a purple heart was visible around his neck. The heart was hidden by the shirt, but he knew it was there because he had seen it.

Maybe he could contact him and try to talk to him to see if he could help him in some way. He seemed like he needed to talk to someone.

The next morning he tried to call him. Someone else answered the phone, he didn’t recognize the voice.

“Hello?”

“Hello. Is... is this Kris Guštin?” Damon asked.

“This is his phone, yes, but I’m a police officer.”

“A police officer? What happened?” He pressed, apprehension in his voice.

“The guy was arrested yesterday evening. He started a fight in a pub. He was completely wasted, high and drunk.”

Damon’s eyes opened widely. His face paled. “Is he still at the police station?”

“Yes. Are you a friend of his?”

“Kind of, yes.”

“You can come and take him away, if you want. He won’t be charged, he’s an habitue here.”

“I-I’m coming.” He quickly replied, then ended the call. An habitue? Drugs and alcohol? Was he so that deeply stuck in his bad situation?

He immediately went to the police station, without thinking twice about it. Kris was locked in a cell, alone and with handcuffs on his wrists. He looked like a model even in that moment, back laid against the wall, vacant eyes staring in front of him like he was lost in his own world. And that usual gloom in them.

“Your friend here came for you, Guštin.” Said the police officer.

The demon turned to look at him and was surprised to see the photographer. He stood up and got closer to the entrance of the cell. The police officer freed him from the handcuffs, then gave him his phone back and let him go with Damon.

“Thank you.” Whispered Kris once they got out of the police station. He let his phone slip inside one pocket in his trousers, then put his hands in his jacket pockets.

“I know you don’t know me, but what happened? Is... is everything ok?” Damon was more than worried, Kris could hear the concern in his words.

“Yes.” he replied. “Everything’s ok.”

“You used drugs. You drank, a lot. That’s not ok.”

“I’m fine.” He almost snarled at him, turning his head towards the photographer. “Why did you come, anyway?”

“I wanted to talk to you.” Damon explained. “You seemed lonely and sad. I was worried.”

Kris blinked and winced a bit. He was truly worried? His senses weren’t wrong, then.

“I’m... fine, I told you.”

“I know you don’t know me.” He repeated then continued. “But I’m here, if you want to talk to me.” The human smiled shyly, yet he could see friendliness in his eyes. He didn’t perceive any lust coming from him.

“Thanks.” He murmured.

* * *

In the next weeks Kris kept doing his job as succubus. Almost every day he had at least one new lover, male or female it didn’t matter. His sire chose each new prey for him and he couldn’t refuse.

But he also started going out with the photographer. He learned his name, Damon. He was a lovely person. He didn’t talk much, however he compensated for it with his presence. His closeness was uncomfortable at the beginning, but after a few times the demon started appreciating it.

The moments spent with Damon quickly became the most awaited ones for the succubus. He started laughing at his jokes, he talked more, he even shared some bits of his life, obviously he kept them pretty vague. He couldn’t tell him he was a demon. He needed this friendship. He missed being human, having friends to hang out with.

Kris loved when Damon talked about his job. He could almost physically touch the passion he radiated when explaining his art and his vision.

“And you saw all of this in me?”

“Yes. And even more.” Damon nodded, then looked at him. “There’s a whole world behind those sad eyes and I wanted to eternalize them.”

“A world behind them?”

“Yes. I see that you are happier since we started hanging out, but there’s always a shadow in them, sometimes it’s nearer, sometimes it’s in the back, but it’s always present, lurking around. There’s something in your life that makes you feel sad, that maybe you’d like to change but for some reason you can’t.” He gently touched one of Kris’s hands.

The demon was petrified. How...? He read right through him like an open book. Was it because he was an artist? Did artists like him have a different way of seeing life and people?

“I want you to know that I’m still here for you, if you want to talk about whatever is making you feel this lost.” Damon looked right into his eyes. Kris felt his heart falter.

He wanted to scream, to say out loud that he didn’t want to be a succubus anymore, that he was tired of being a slave and following every order his sire gave him, that he just wanted to become a human again, go back and not say “yes” to that contract. His mouth opened to speak, but no sounds left it.

Damon was human. He wouldn’t understand. He would probably think that he was crazy, that drugs and alcohol destroyed his mind and his ability to think with clarity. He was his little happy bubble in between a huge red and black world overruled by pain, suffering and damnation.

“It’s... complicated, Damon. Too complicated.” He whispered in the end, closing his eyes. A tear ran down his face, but never reached his chin because a gentle touch caught it.

“When you are ready, Kris.” Damon murmured with a tender voice. “Only when you are ready. I’ll wait, even years, if it’s necessary for you to be comfortable enough to speak about it.”

Kris startled and sobbed. His heart was hit by an invisible dagger. How could a human soul be so kind? How could two creatures so different like them meet? Damon behaved like a blessed soul from heaven with him, a damned soul transformed into a being of corruption.

Damon took Kris into his arms and gently stroked his hair. The succubus grabbed his shirt, he was his safety net and he didn’t want to let him go.

But he had to. His sire called him that evening and he punished him for behaving like a pathetic child with that human. This time he had three lovers, three muscular men. He felt stronger, the energy radiating from them was so delicious and so invigorating that he had to close his eyes because his head was spinning, but they were rough and violent with him. And so went on for seven days.

Damon saw Kris again a week after their last afternoon together. He appeared in front of his door during a night storm, completely wet and with a tired, distant look in his eyes.

“Kris, what happened?” He immediately asked.

“Can-can I come in?” Kris replied, his voice was trembling and his entire figure was shaking. He wrapped his own arms around his body.

Damon let him in, closing the door behind him, then rushed to get a big towel from the bathroom. He put it around Kris while guiding him to the couch. He sat down next to him.

“Dear, what happened?” He asked again.

Kris slowly showed his trembling arm, the interior part of his forearm was filled with small red holes, clearly signs of syringe pricks. His hand was twitching. Damon turned white.

“Who did this to you?” He pressed, extremely concerned. “You need to go to a hospital, right now, you could have an overd-”

“I’m fine.” Kris managed to say. “I-I will be. Few hours.”

Kris moved his arm nearer to his body, but Damon grabbed his wrist with care. “You could die.”

He shook his head vehemently. “I won’t die. I can’t die. Not like this.”

“Kris, you are a human being, drugs can kill y-”

“Stop worrying about me!” he shouted. “I will be fine.” He repeated it like a mantra. If he kept saying these words, they would become true eventually, wouldn’t they?

He closed his eyes. “P-please, I just need a safe place to stay. You... you are the only person I know here.”

Damon let him take a shower, a long and hot one. He also lent him some dry clothes and prepared some food for him. Kris ate without saying a word while keeping his eyes low. His hands suffered less spams, the drugs’ effects were dissolving pretty quickly.

Damon continued observing Kris. The summer storm outside didn’t give any sign of wanting to calm down, in that moment there was a bright lightning and a loud thunder. The thunderbolt lighted up the whole room and Damon noticed a weird shadow around Kris, like he had some sort of wings closed behind his back. He shook his head, he must have been tired to see things that didn’t exist.

An hour later Kris was sleeping in Damon’s bed, his face was more relaxed. Damon was totally awake on the other side of the bed. He was observing the younger man. He didn’t see anything else weird on him, but he remembered he noticed some weird shadows in some of the pictures he took months ago.

Damon grabbed his laptop, opened it and searched for those photos. He observed them attentively and he saw something indeed. In some of them the “wings” were barely visible, but they were there. In other pictures he saw weird horns rise from his forehead. In some others there was some sort of tail around Kris.

They were just shadows or reflections, but those elements were there. Was this possible? Or was it a weird coincidence? Kris didn’t have wings or a tail, or even horns! He turned to look at him while he was sleeping. Should he ask Kris what was that?

Damon put away his laptop and laid down, turned towards Kris. In the dim light of the room he examined him: he seemed relaxed and peaceful while he was resting, he couldn’t see anything weird on him. Could he really be some supernatural creature? While he kept thinking about this possibility, he slowly drifted off, the tiredness winning on his restless whirl of thoughts.

#damkris #kris guštin #annies writes #my writing #joker out fanfic #joker out #kad nemam tebe sa mnom su moji demoni

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twistedtummies2 · 4 months

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Year of the Bat - Number 17

Welcome to Year of the Bat! In honor of Kevin Conroy, Arleen Sorkin, and Richard Moll, I’m counting down my Top 31 Favorite Episodes of “Batman: The Animated Series” throughout this January. TODAY’S EPISODE QUOTE: “Man or woman, a sick mind is capable of anything.” Number 17 is…Harley & Ivy.

There are many episodes in B:TAS that can be considered “landmark moments,” not just for the show, but for the lore and history of Batman – in general – moving forward and into the present day. Characters and stories that were so well-conceived, and so incredibly interesting, that later writers, artists, and creators in general would find them to be fountains of inspiration, and which fans still adore to this day. “Harley & Ivy” is one of those landmarks. It not only expanded on the character of Harley Quinn – thus further ensuring her long-lasting legacy as a character – but also on the much older character of Poison Ivy, and provided perhaps one of the most popular supervillain duos in the history of fiction.

Once again, Batman is sort of a secondary player in things for this outing. The focus of the story, really, is on three of his greatest villains: Harley, Ivy, and his arch-nemesis, the Joker. The plot begins when Joker, angry at Harley after a botched robbery, kicks her out of the gang. It’s indicated this isn’t the first time this has happened, and Harley – fed up with the Clown Prince’s ego (despite still having feelings for him) – decides to try and show him up by pulling off a few crimes on her own. Her schemes cause her to come in contact with Poison Ivy, and the two decide to team-up, as Ivy seeks to drill some more backbone and independence into her new partner-in-crime. When their crimes lead to them upstaging the Harlequin of Hate, however, Joker is quick to try and get some revenge. Out to stop all three villains, Batman is dragged into the mess, as usual. This episode really solidified the relationship between Harley and the Joker. In earlier stories, they’d actually gotten along rather well, but this is the first story where we see the unhealthy, dangerous side of their relationship. Over time, writers and creators have gone back and forth on how toxic or how surprisingly touching the relationship should be, but this was the status quo with the original Animated Series version of Harley moving forward: the Joker is awful to Harley, an abusive creep of the highest order…yet he also can’t be without her a lot of the time, for one reason or another. Harley, meanwhile, is hopelessly devoted to the Ace of Knaves, but at times she’ll show a surprising amount of gumption, whenever the Joker does something she REALLY doesn’t agree with.

Of course, the real major relationship here is Harley and Ivy themselves, and in this first outing, it’s nailed perfectly. In the original show, the pair are essentially best friends, and were described as having a sisterly sort of bond. Later reinventions – as well as numerous fanworks – would go further, making the two into love interests; arguably the most popular lesbian couple in the history of superhero fiction. While you COULD argue there are hints of that in their interactions in this episode, and throughout the Animated Series as a whole, I don’t necessarily feel like they were intentional…but regardless of how you look at them – as lovers, sisters in bond, or simply very good friends – watching these two bounce off one another is just as great as seeing Harley and the Joker together. Sometimes even more so! For Poison Ivy, I would argue, it’s ESPECIALLY interesting, because she’s so often depicted as a lone mama wolf, so to speak; a highly independent character who shows little to no empathy for most other human beings. Yet for some reason, you can tell Ivy actually does legitimately care about Harley, even as early as this first appearance. Seeing Harley’s bubbly, childish, manic personality rebound off of Ivy’s more serious, sarcastic, sardonic attitude creates a lot of comedic and dramatic tension. It’s the Animated Series that really made me fall in love with Ivy as a character, and I think a big part of that DID come from her interactions with Harley. Out of all the other characters Harley has been paired up with besides the Joker in times since – from Deadshot, to Killer Croc, to Lobo, and so on – something about Harley & Ivy’s particular partnership remains arguably the strongest of all. It all started with this episode, and anyone who loves these characters owes it to themselves to check it out, if they haven’t already.

Tomorrow we move on to the halfway point of the countdown, with Number 16! Hint: “Fear’s a prison, you see, and I’ve just broken out!”

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just-some-random-blogger · 2 years

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Out of 9

Dream of the Endless x Reader, Corinthian x Reader

Summary: Headcanons of how Dream and Cori would exact revenge to whomever left you broken after the death of your cats.

Word Count: >600

Warnings: Depictions of (as mentioned) your pet cats dying, animal abuse, mentions of violent intent, crude language, nsfw content for Corinthian, hurt/comfort, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: yeah i will never get over how my cat (Mochi) died. i thought of this whole idea as i was petting my cat (Jinjin) and realized he was most definitely God sent, because of how similar his personality is with my Mochi.

You were too kind for your own good. He could not even fault you for it, for it was precisely what drew him to you in the first place. Your light could fight the darkness in him. And yet the tenderness of your heart was both your greatest strength and weakness. You regularly bought canned cat food on your way home from work. It bothered him that you routinely lingered in dark alleyways at night, but then again, had that alley not had the cover of darkness it did, he would have never hid there and met you. His worries were regrettably materialized when you bawled at him over the news that they were all dead-- from the adults to the kittens, all the strays you fed were dead. Someone poisoned their food, the food you had left them. It crushed you to know those hungry kitties saw the food and ate it, not knowing some monster tampered with it. It made you reevaluate your choices heavily. Indeed, the thought of someone being comfortable enough to kill those helpless creatures was unsavory, but it was the fact someone did that and could have harmed you, had you been there, was what really sent him off the rails. And so:

Dream

would find the person who did such cruelty and repay them with nightmares.

He would haunt them by trapping them in the mind of a cat, who had the unfortunate fate of meeting the wrath of the very people like them.

The King of Nightmares would make it so that the murderer would understand the value of strays, understand their pains,

and then would inspire mice to multiply in their abode.

All the while he would bless you with dreams where you could still be with your darlings.

He would hold you while you cried,

and rub your back as you emptied your sorrows on his chest.

He would remind you that it was not by your kindness that the evil sprung out,

but that evil had a poisoning nature and grew wherever there was festering hearts.

Dream would even have Death visit you, to reassure you that the souls of your lost cats bore no scorn.

Your grief would never truly leave you, but you were eternally grateful by the comfort of both siblings,

especially because the usually withdrawn Endless made efforts to draw you closely.

Corinthian

would destroy whomever fucked around with that poison.

He would make sure to pepper you with kisses and make you cry over his dick instead,

but he would meticulously plan how he'd catch the rat who thought up the bright idea to increase their population by killing those strays.

And so he would lure them and coolly wait in the alley before butchering the cretin in the very spot those cats souls were robbed of tomorrow.

Corinthian would reassure you that the vermin would get what they deserved soon enough as you wept against him.

He would cradle you in his arms while he hushed you,

and faded your sorrowful grunts into moans of pleasure when he ate you out.

The Nightmare would never admit to killing the cat killer, knowing it would break you, but he did continuously reassure you that people like them would get what they deserved for causing someone as sweet as you such heart ache.

All the while he would worship your being,

because he really was no different than who caused you great pain, with his murderous tendencies,

and yet he had your love.

Damn anyone hell and back who causes his love to grieve.

Fuck around and find out.

#the sandman headcanons #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fluff #the sandman angst #dream of the endless fanfic #dream of the endless headcanons #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless x you #dream of the endless fluff #dream of the endless hurt/comfort #corinthian fanfic #corinthian headcanons #corinthian fluff #corinthian smut #the corinthian fanfic

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tired-reader-writer · 1 year

Text

And here we have Ranna, my OC!

They're Tahamenay's child, her lost daughter, and I picked her mother's distinctive palette for several reasons— one: to make it impossible to not clock her right away as Tahamenay's child, two: to metaphorically flip birds at Andragoras, and three: because I found it very pretty.

Her first outfit, I've been having this one in my head for a long long time, I think ever since I began this AU character design sheet thing— wait no it was actually when I was designing Kashi, weirdly enough. I already had a vague idea of the silhouette and layers involved by then, though it was still very plain and blank because I hadn't assigned all that much symbolism to her... yet.

For this one, I thought that I wanted a sort of dusk, sunset sort of vibe going on, I recently got to play the remake of my favorite game: Yotsume God. And the entire aesthetic of that game, set at dusk, as if the world was awash in flames, all the red hues, it stuck with me. So I plucked some colours off of the screenshots I took and stuck them on this one— plus the dark colours made me think of Hilmes.

There are accents of yellow/gold (though rather dull) to hint at their secret royal lineage, unbeknownst to themself. Those are scorpion tails on her coat— I was running out of energy that day and could not make myself draw the entire animal. So tail it is. As for why scorpion, Ranna likes bugs and what people would consider creepy crawlies a lot, plus the symbolism:

“The symbolism of the scorpion means so many things including intelligence, independence, solitude, passion, protection, and transformation, to different tribes.”

“It is widely known that scorpions have deadly venom that can kill humans.”

“The scorpion’s stinger is used as a weapon for hunting, defense, and protection. They also represent that one has the power to protect oneself.

Scorpion bites may be poisonous, but Scorpion symbolism acts as a spirit guide that teaches you to recognize your tendencies and know how to manage them to work in your favor. It also teaches us to be brave and stand up against failure, turn our weaknesses into strengths, learn from our past mistakes, transform our pain and negativity into positivity, and identify our true identity.”

Generally, scorpions represent the following:

• Ability to protect other people by chasing off negative impacts and influences.

• Ability to protect oneself through fighting oneself or others.

• Powerful transformation

• Success and dream

• Independence, personal drive, and rebirth

• Mastery and self-control

• A sharp mind and intelligence

• Solitude

• Determination and willpower

• Pent-up emotions

• Aggressive behavior or feeling

• Utmost self-confidence

Ranna is quite the independent sort of person, she has control issues that stem from being expected to conform to ridiculous standards by her former caretakers (in hopes that one day she might be allowed to return to the royal court, and even if not, land a good marriage)— from her perspective her parents were trying to make her walk this path (marriage) that she's not crazy about, and a path that produces much misery and traps victims, at that. Abusive spouses, women in general don't seem to have much power and independence in Pars as far as I know, this all fed into their rebellious and independent streak. On top of that, she's been witnessing the numerous injustices of society, namely the classism and the slavery. Even after she ran away and came to live with the clan at a very young age, the clan is made of runaway slaves, abuse victims, so on and so forth, people who have endured society's bullshit and like Ranna themself sought sanctuary and freedom. That definitely radicalized her so to speak, and gave rise to this... protectiveness of themself, their agency, the clan, and a collection of pent-up emotions, mostly negative, that she takes out on people she dislikes. Ranna is very brutal and aggressive with people they hate, they like to poke and prod and rile them up so that she can feel in-control. Hilmes does his utmost to avoid them as a result.

As for the identify [their] true identity part, Ranna sneaks off to Ecbatana to scratch the itch of the urge to find out what her birth parents are like and why they abandoned them, so yeah.

The necklace with the pistachio pendant is... gotta admit, it is kinda the stretch of the century but bear with me!!

We're going on a journey in this post too, and that's a... I don't have a name for this journey but let's— let's call this Aphrodite journey.

But Egg, you may exclaim, what's pistachios gotta do with Aphrodite of all things?

I know. That's why I said this is the stretch of the century.

Buckle up, buddies.

The first reason why I chose pistachios was this:

“Pistachio forests in the eastern, southern and southeastern districts – 26,000 km2 (10,000 sq mi)”

They're present in the Alborz mountain range too, of course, but why is the southeastern part of Iran (the country Pars is based on) significant in particular?

Well, look no further than this map. (EDIT: This fan map was made by tumblr user chatmant! Thank you @daryun for telling me!)

As ArSen fans will know, Tahamenay was originally from the Principality of Badakhshan, located southeast of Pars— before Osroes came in and conquered the area. I wanted to include a nod to her mother's origins and whatnot.

Pistachios are supposedly dubbed “green gold”, or just “the emerald”, and harvest if I am correct starts in September.

Tahamenay's child was born in the ninth month, which I know doesn't mean it corresponds to modern September but hush. I'm just gonna roll with it to retain my sanity for now.

Keep an eye on the emerald part. This is where the stretch begins.

“Emerald symbolism encompasses not only royalty but also wit, eloquence, and foresight. "The Jewel of Kings" also serves as the May birthstone. Whatever its supposed mystical properties, this gem has long been regarded as a superior jewel. Rare and beautiful, emerald's stunning green color has also brought it an honored status amongst cultures worldwide.”

Royalty for their lineage, and well, Ranna's quite very crafty and cunning.

“A revealer of truths, emerald reputedly could cut through all illusions and spells, including the truth or falsity of a lover's oath.”

The circumstances surrounding her identity, plus their brutal honesty with the people she dislikes. She is honest with people she likes too but... they take delight in tearing down the worldview and personal truths of the ones she hates.

“Western traditions connect emeralds more frequently with the planet Venus. Perhaps the story from Greek and Roman mythology of Venus emerging from the sea makes a difference here. For followers of Western astrology, the "sea green" color of emerald may make a better match with the goddess's namesake planet.”

I took one look at Venus and decided to think about Aphrodite instead, since that's the one I'm more familiar with.

“Aphrodite is an ancient Greek goddess associated with love, lust, beauty, pleasure, passion, and procreation.

Aphrodite has been featured in Western art as a symbol of female beauty and has appeared in numerous works of Western literature.”

Aphrodite is the goddess of love and beauty, and of seduction as well. While Ranna is squarely not interested in seducing anybody save a certain bandit girl (and their idea of “seducing” said bandit girl involves a lot less sexytimes, thank fuck, and a whole lot more bloody murder, adrenaline-charged heists, and general chaos and shenanigans anyways) but, as Ranna inherited Tahamenay's looks, and Tahamenay was met with a trauma conga line of misfortune no thanks to her beauty, and was accused of seducing many men.

Also Aphrodite, from what I know, is an agent of chaos lol, which Ranna also is.

Also also, Aphrodite's origin myth involves her washing ashore from the sea, and Badakhshan is in contact with the sea, and I headcanon that Tahamenay was from somewhere along the coastline.

Also, Aphrodite had a lot of epithets which range from Genetyllis meaning “Mother” (which I link with Tahamenay) to Areia meaning “warlike”:

“Across the Greek world, she was known under epithets such as Melainis "Black One", Skotia "Dark One", Androphonos "Killer of Men", Anosia "Unholy", and Tymborychos "Gravedigger", all of which indicate her darker, more violent nature.”

And as people who's seen me talk about Ranna, this girl is... a Terror™ among terrors.

And that's how I ended up linking pistachios to Aphrodite.

Onto the second outfit, I went for foxy colours since I ended up not putting actual foxes on her clothes.

Why foxes? Well...

“Fox symbolism and meaning include cleverness, independence, playfulness and mischievousness, beauty, protection, and good luck.”

“The animal is taken to be the incarnation of cunning, slyness, perfidy, and even wickedness.”

Characteristics that Ranna embodies, plus in the manga Tahamenay was referred to as “that sharp-eyed vixen”. Another nod to their mother!

Also, clawed gloves. Me likes.

What are the purple flowers on her clothes? Why the purple sash? Oh, this is one I've been holding for A VERY LONG TIME.

So a while ago, I had the idea of associating either Ranna or Arslan with saffron/saffron flowers— saffron is precious, and the flowers bloom in autumn. One would be associated with saffron, and the other would be associated with “autumn crocus/meadow saffron” which is actually not saffron at all and instead is poisonous, even.

Pretty neat plan, except I kept going back and forth on who would be which flower. Because on one hand Ranna is secret royalty and it'd make sense for her to be associated with the expensive and precious saffron, Arslan the fake saffron, but on the other hand I ended up linking venom/poison and Ranna (the scorpion, poisoned weaponry), and Arslan ended up embodying a lot of saffron symbolism...

So I decided, fuck it, imma just leave it ambiguous. Figure this shit out yourselves 😭 That's also why I left out the saffron threads/ the styles and stamens of this ambiguous flower, because true crocuses have three stamens and three styles, while colchicums have six stamens and one style. The meadow saffron I talked about? Iirc it's a colchicum, not a true crocus.

“Saffron is harvested from the saffron crocus, scientific name Crocus sativus. This is a different plant entirely from the autumn crocus (Colchicum autumnale), also known somewhat confusingly as meadow saffron.

“Colchicum autumnale, commonly known as autumn crocus, meadow saffron, or naked ladies, is a toxic autumn-blooming flowering plant that resembles the true crocuses, but is a member of the plant family Colchicaceae, unlike the true crocuses, which belong to the family Iridaceae. The name "naked ladies" is because the flowers emerge from the ground long before the leaves appear. Despite the vernacular name of "meadow saffron", this plant is not the source of saffron, which is obtained from the saffron crocus, Crocus sativus – and that plant, too, is sometimes called "autumn crocus".”

“Crocus sativus, commonly known as saffron crocus or autumn crocus, is a species of flowering plant in the iris family Iridaceae. A cormous autumn-flowering cultivated perennial, unknown in the wild, it is best known for the culinary use of its floral stigmas as the spice saffron.”

“The sativus has a long history in the world, and as such has gathered much symbolism and meaning alongside itself. Some of the more common associations are feelings of happiness and joy, with a gift of saffron being a way to send positive vibes and energy to another. It is thought to relate to the emotions of youth as well, and childlike wonder. It was commonly used in roman households as a perfume for guests as they entered the abode. The name crocus sativus is thought to originate from the Greek god Krokus, who upon his death became the flower, as well as the Arabic word “zafaran,” which means yellow.”

And the symbolism of individual colours of crocuses (not limited to saffron crocuses):

“Purple, the traditional color of royalty, is tied to gracefulness, dignity, and personal success. It’s great for symbolize someone’s recent accomplishments or to celebrate their many years of service or partnership. Darker shades in particular have a strong association with the wisdom of experience. It represents success, pride and dignity. This flower color is also a symbol of royalty and nobility.

White, the purest and most versatile flower color of them all. A bouquet of Crocuses in this color can indicate a humble approach or wishes of condolences for someone in grief. This color is commonly associated with funerals in some cultures, but it’s also used for weddings due to its ties to purity and elegance in others. White Crocus flower is a symbol of purity, truth and innocence. This flower is usually used as wedding decoration.

The yellow Crocus flower is a symbol of cheerfulness and joy.”

Hold onto these crocus colour stuff. They'll become relevant again in Arslan's sheet. Or really, the entire crocus/saffron section of this post.

How long has this thing become?

“It is most commonly associated with spring, renewal, and rebirth due to its growth during the winter or early spring.

Autumn blooming Crocuses may inspire some artists and writers to use it as a symbol of hope in the face of loss or death instead. These varieties can be some of the last flowers to bloom, making them a reminder of the spring to come.”

“By the middle of October, saffron flowers begin to blossom, and this blooming lasts for about three weeks.

Crocus sativus are grown from bulbs known as corms. Crocus corms are best planted in September, then will flower a couple of months later

September is best for planting in warmer locations (zones 7-10). Saffron Crocus can be planting in the ground or in containers in these warmer zones. Saffron Crocus (Crocus sativus) blooms in fall.”

“Saffron flowers symbolize rebirth, joy, innocence and new beginnings. It is also a symbol of youthfulness as it is the first flower to bloom in the spring. In ancient Rome, the crocus was a symbol of love.”

“The Crocus flower generally represents youth, innocence, rebirth, cheerfulness, pleasure, gladness and joy.”

“While crocus do have that well-known association with being the first blooms of the new year, they aren’t necessarily just a spring flower. In fact, some croci (both croci and crocuses are acceptable plurals) bloom late in the autumn. So, while it’s true that the crocus is a symbol of rebirth from the darkest times, it’s also applicable as a symbol and omen of enduring and thriving life. You, like the crocus, can be renewed in spite in the coldness and darkness of the depths of winter.”

“Depending on the exact species and variety, Crocus plants can bloom in the spring, autumn, or winter.”

If you're seeing lots of snippets about how they bloom in different seasons, it's because I was getting very annoyed at the sheer confusion I suffered during research, people will just conflate saffron crocuses and regular-ass crocuses, leading to stuff that says “saffron flowers bloom in spring!” and the repeated information about spring-blooming crocuses.

I'm so tired. Get your facts straight, people!

Also, almost forgot to mention, her foxy colours here of course can be attributed to the saffron route as well, if you choose to associate her with saffron and not meadow saffron.

And Tahamenay is shown having purple on her:

And who can ignore the centipede?

“Centipedes are the ultimate "creepy crawlies." Their many-legged bodies are more often the subject of horror than fascination.”

She horrifies a lot of people. And they also cause fascination too, and of course they're absolutely smitten by centipedes.

“Centipedes and millipedes are multi-legged predatory arthropods which live in a variety of different terrestrial habitats. These bugs are found in almost every region of the planet, including, even, the Arctic Circle.”

“Centipedes live in soil, under rocks and dead wood, and inside logs. Because they live in dirt, centipedes are often associated with death and decay. Due to its preference for hidden places, the centipede is sometimes associated with the afterlife or the "Underworld." This association sometimes connects centipedes to occult forces and taboo subjects.”

Ranna rolls around in dirt, explores the woods and mountains and is not in the slightest afraid of getting dirty. They're “dead” to Andragoras and nonexistent to the rest of the court, and their existence or the talk about it or their identity can be regarded as “taboo”. It's not like Tahamenay can talk about this to anyone, after all.

“The centipede’s unusual anatomy connects it with speed and dexterity. The centipede’s venomous bite associates these fearsome arthropods with both sickness and medicine.”

“Both centipede and millipede are symbols of good luck, energy, and healing. In addition, it is said that centipedes are among the only things that dragons fear. So, centipedes represent the power and ferocity that even the smallest of creatures can embody. Finally, perhaps the strongest association with centipedes is fear itself. Centipedes represent anxieties, phobias both rational and irrational, and nightmares. Because of this, centipedes can also represent the courageous act of confronting one’s fears.”

“The Irish Banshee was often depicted as an older woman surrounded by creepy crawlers such as spiders and centipedes. The cry of the Banshee is thought to be a harbinger of death.”

Lots of scary ominous stuff going on here, and Ranna is the one who'd eventually cause Andragoras' death, but not without Tahamenay's contribution, of course :3

Then we have their ceremonial dance attire. Follows the general template, with a few tweaks.

Her sash is a warmer red than Kazai's.

The star symbols on the skirt part also resemble suns, hinting at her royal lineage.

Purple for Tahamenay.

A lot more yellow/gold, again for the royal lineage thing.

The necklace is a chaotic collection of colours, which yeah represents her own chaos.

They just seem like the type to frequently go barefoot regardless of the occasion.

Also, as you may have noticed, Ranna has one or both arms free of the sleeves of the outermost layer in two of the outfits, and that's to show how she cares little about decorum and stuff, such as wearing a garment “properly”.

That's all. It's 3:25am, I started drafting this thing immediately after I finished drawing a couple hours ago, which also I finished this tonight out of an adrenaline rush because I have to return to classes tomorrow.

I hate my life.

I'm gonna immediately head to sleep, I can already tell I won't get enough. Bye! Hope y'all enjoyed this!

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #heroic legend of arslan #wolfpack au #winds of wolfsong #ranna (oc)#arslan senki oc #rotten egg's shitty art #the character design sheet saga #me: gonna type this one up real quick and then I'll go to bed!#this post: you fool. you absolute buffoon.#Tahamenay #I almost don't want to know how long this post ended up being #I'M SORRY #long post #just in case

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infinitemercy · 2 years

Photo

Alien Existence by Philip Best (Infinity Land Press, 2016)

Extracts:

WALKING WOUNDED

I sing of war, of holy war.

Torquato Tasso Gerusalemme liberata, 1581.

The state is to get hold of those who never had — or no longer have — a right to live in the state, and the state must turn their strength while it lasts to the good of the state. They must be fed, sheltered, and treated in such a way as to use them as much as possible at the lowest possible cost.

Charles Reznikoff Holocaust. Black Sparrow Press, 1975.

GOD'S NAME EVERYWHERE

We must accept the eventuality of bringing the USA to its knees; accept the closing off of critical sections of the city with barbed wire, armored pig carriers crisscrossing the streets, soldiers everywhere, tommy guns pointed at stomach level, smoke curling black against the daylight sky, the smell of cordite, house-to-house searches, doors being kicked in, the commonness of death.

George L. Jackson Blood In My Eye. Random House, 1972.

REPETITION REINFORCEMENT

"Do you hear that blubberer?" said Korablyova, drawing Maslova's attention to the strange sound coming from the other end of the room. It was the smothered sobbing of the red-haired woman. She was crying because they had called her names and hit her, and not given her any of the vodka she wanted so badly. She was crying too because all her life she had had nothing but abuse, jeers, insults and blows.

She tried to console herself by thinking of her first sweetheart, a factory hand whose name was Fedka Molodenkov, but when she thought of this first love of hers she also remembered how it had ended. It had ended one day when this Molodenkov was drunk and for a joke had dabbed vitriol on the most sensitive spot of her body and then roared with laughter with his mates while she writhed in agony. She remembered this and felt so full of pity for herself that, thinking no one could hear her, she burst into tears and wept as children do, moaning and snuffling and swallowing the salt tears.

Leo Tolstoy Resurrection (1899).

THE PUSH

woe to the bloody city full of lies and robbery today i hear the beat of death in all things i hear it in the streets and in the parks you will all die you will all die you will all die from mayfair and westminster to camberwell and peckham rye riverwheel aflame london capsized and at night father when i pray you are not there you are not there you are not there all hail to the creatures and the sluts and the poor in guarded isles of midday devils all prancing to war money may fall and towers may fall and bodies will fall but they'll still want it all and they'll still take it all politicians profiteers all poison the well ride their rough horses headlong pell mell over layer upon layer of metropolitan sick

it's a trick it's a trick it's a trick

so, woe to the bloody city that covets fresh fields and flesh within the cauldron this time is evil woe to the bloody stage and final blank page of the failed state that hoards its wealth and arms itself against the stranded and lost at whatever the cost whatever the cost whatever the cost

o gods, break their teeth o gods break their teeth i mean it's the attitude that counts as well as everything else it takes you with me? i mean we should never compromise we won't get anywhere in life accepting second best you get it yet? if you don't taste it if you don't feel it, baby we haven't come a very long way have we?

so what exactly is it? this grand unified theory of female pain and wet cement could it be the face that would sell condoms in a cunt? or better yet i had a lover once some men came by shot up the house she lived in tore up the place broke every fucking window burned her out she couldn't tell me why i hate men and their violence their weak murderous minds

TWENTY MINUTE TEST

1) Undeveloped rolls of film. 2) Two last shots. 3) Leg fracture. 4) More film, recovered then processed. 5) Betamax. 6) FC = Fuck. 7) Some in colour, good quality. 8) Punishment beating. 9) Deep black bruising. 10) Witness stated "His body was normal". 11) Expressed preference that girl should be "flat". 12) Wanted to see her stumble and fall. 13) "Bring her down" 14) Failed to pay attention and the lights touched her naked body. 15) Found burns exciting. 16) Had Houston amputation film (HWA). 17) Traced trauma to childhood accident. 18) Tension barely perceptible.

MIRROR WORLD

Julie was curling a young girl's hair when I came in. She was styling it to be just like her own: wavy all round the sides and flat at the crown. But the girl's hair was shorter and brown in colour; Julie's was pure blonde. They were grouped around the mirror. Julie smiled over. He was a mechanic, but he'd always wanted to try his hand at writing. He was telling me this, and fixing coffee, as the girls continued to do their thing at the mirror. There were pictures of dolphins and killer whales on the walls.

VOICE-OVER: I'd been having a recurring nightmare. I'm three years old dancing on my mother's grand piano. I'm wearing her gold spiked heels. The grownups are clapping, stomping in rhythm. My ankles twist in the big shoes. I want to stop dancing but they cheer even louder. IMAGE: PRESCHOOLER IN UNDERSHIRT AND UNDERPANTS, DANCING FOR THE CAMERA VOICE-OVER: I don't know what they want from me.

The shell landed near a food queue and several children died. A burning bus with a scattering of limbs and blackened body parts. Later in the day the queue formed again and the government forces fired again.

I am so fucking up to my neck in debt & so badly need to do well. This is not a bad thing to do with JJ & I'm really happy for him. JJ gets everyone falling over themselves — I get fake numbers & stood up. Johnny's so well into it — making heaps of friends & as usual no matter where I am — I feel alone. It's not San Francisco, it's me. I can't explain this feeling to anyone, this feeling of COMPLETE DETEST for myself & this feeling of being so average. I've tried so badly to understand why & to make mother & JJ understand — but they think I'm being so silly — but I really feel like this so much. It's a feeling of being so invisible, being no-one, feeling like I'm never a part of something & never quite fitting in. I know Johnny has been all over the place since leaving, but he never has that feeling of no self worth. The most beautiful people become spellbound. He always feels he deserves the best & BECOMING MORE RADIANT and confident all the time. I really am not joking & this sounds stupid but I am so exhausted with feeling this shit & feeling so lonely despite being with JJ every day & feeling so low & so up to my eyeballs with debt — I sometimes really can't be bothered to wait & find out what happens. I just want to disappear. I feel like I'm reeling & I don't know what to do. I feel so outside. I've nothing anywhere.

#philip best #whitehouse #consumer electronics #collage #poetry #book

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era-the-witchy-birdkid · 2 years

Text

Always Been a Phantom

Hey @phantoms-lair here is the first bit of that AU. Tropical Land was canon until this point here is just how Kudo become a Phantom

Shades

Shades are the barely there ghosts of people who died but were unable to first form in the ghost zone, unable to be touched or heard they float around following people they care for or just interest them

Kudo Shinichi had a lot of these ghosts following him as his work in solving cases, stopping crime, and bringing justice to the dead. Means he has many thankful shades following him around in his day to day... but today every shade by his side is crying as their helpless to stop the fact he was poisoned.

25 shades were following Kudo Shinichi when the BO hit him with a baseball bat and force-fed him an experimental poison. 25 shades search the nearby area for other shades willing to give comfort to a dying hero of the dead. 25 shades find three more shades each willing to give comfort, weirdly the 100th shade was almost about to say no when he suddenly changed his mind

100 shades end up trying to comfort Kudo as he laid there poisoned by the experimental drug APTX 4869, leaving behind a bit of their essence with every attempt it wasn’t a lot about the same amount as person breathes in dust in a single breath, but with 100 shades each doing multiple attempts at comfort it added up fast. Fifty shades could only comfort him twice before they were spent, Forty shades could comfort him three times before they were spent, and the last ten each one a shade that Kudo personally helped bring peace too could do almost five each.

As each shade spent their energy giving comfort they left not willing to see Kudo actually die... but if they stayed they would have seen something odd.

You see Kudo was never going to die form the poison he was naturally to ghost-like too do so instead of dying he was going to turn into a six-year-old but with all that built up ghost essence also known as ectoplasm to those who study it and ghosts. You see APTX 4869 is a very strange drug especially if you're unaware of the supernatural element that exists in this world, and APTX has this weird quirk of being able to bind itself to ectoplasm and multiply it.

If their was just one less shade giving comfort that night this couldn’t happen, but given that their was something rare happened. A threshold was reached and APTX instead of shrinking Kudo changed his species instead...

________________________________________________________

this is an au of the Phantom Detective au by the amazing @phantoms-lair I was debating to wrote more and do the Shinichi wakes up as a ghost bit but I decided to do so in a different post think of this post as the prolog to this AU

here is some thing that happen later

Shinichi ends up reviling himself to Ran on accident when he over does his powers, just like Agasa.

Shinichi ends up trapped in his house or the Lab as a human for a quite a while as he is only able to safely leave as a ghost... and he hates it so so much

Shinichi abuses overshadowing so much to solve cases... don’t be mad at him its not his fault its the only way he can help without causing panic attacks, Kogorou ends up his unknowing meat puppet for quite a while.

This is a conversation that happen later between Ran and Shinichi

Ran: You need to stop using my father’s body to solve cases, I’m pretty sure I saw his eyes glowing last night at dinner!

Shinichi: I can’t help it though its the only way I can help, I can’t solve cases as a human because the people who did this me will find me, and I can differently not do it as a ghost because that will prevent me from ever having a normal human life again. Its not like I can shapeshift to a different age or some-

FLASH

Ran: Cuuuuute!

Shinichi: ... *high pitched childlike voice* well that’s interesting Ran can you help me come up with a backstory and *excited bouncing* I can’t wait to be able to go outside again while having a heartbeat!

well it ends up going something like that and this is how Conan is born Shinichi ends up seeing Conan much differently then his canon counterpart. Mainly because

he has full control of it and it wasn’t forced on him.

He spent the better part of two months unable to leave his house or Agasa’s lab without being a ghost

he’s really fucking bored, going back to 1st grade is small price to pay for the chance to actually be around people again

Shinichi does try to avoid turning into a ghost as Conan though but that's because Conan’s ghost form is naked and while he’s sure you can’t arrest a ghost for indecent exposure its still embarrassing. Strangely for Shinichi becoming Conan and turning back again is as natural and easy as switching between his ghost form and his human one, any other shapeshift takes a lot of concentration and focus

#phantom detective #Danny Phantom #Detective Conan #In this AU Danny and Shinichi are nearly twins #Danny became a halfa two day before Shinichi did

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nonegenderleftpain · 2 years

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hey, only asking what is wrong with letting your cat out for the day? like if you don't force your cat out and as long as you know where your cat is and u safely get it inside before dark what is the issue?

There's a lot of issues, and I'm low on spoons at the moment so apologize for the tone in advance -

If your cat is outside unsupervised, you absolutely cannot know where it is. Cats are hunters, apex predators, that can and will roam for miles if you leave them out. Every minute your cat is outside unsupervised, they are in danger of poison, cars, predators, feral cats and people who like to kill cats for fun. They are smart enough to kill species into extinction (there have been roughly 63 extinctions in recent years if my memory serves, don't quote me on the numbers - do some research on it), and are invasive species everywhere in the world because we have domesticated them and sharpened their hunting skills as play behaviors because they're cute. They're very much not cute to the small mammals, birds and reptiles that cats kill for fun while wandering outdoors unsupervised.

And that doesn't even cover disease. Toxoplasmosis is a disease carried by cats that will guarantee death for almost every small animal a cat so much as scratches while infected, and they get it by catching it outdoors. They also run the risk of catching FIV and catching/carrying things like the bird flu, which is spiking right now and leading to the euthanization of entire *flocks* of fowl. Indoors, cats run no risk of ticks, fleas, worms and disease.

And all of the excuses people make for letting cats roam are based on false information. Cats are terrible mousers, because they kill for fun and are just as likely to leave mice alive than they are to kill them. Rat terriers were bred for that purpose. They are not wild animals that need to be outdoors, they are domestic animals that sleep 18 hours a day and are more than content to claim a house as a territory and play with their toys. They are not smart enough to know to avoid cars, and they ARE smart enough to learn to hunt even with a bell around their neck. And it bears repeating because people try to find excuses for it - cats are invasive species EVERYWHERE on the planet. They are not the same as their wild counterparts. We domesticated them, and by introducing them to wild ecosystems we have contributed to the annihilation of countless animals that are not equipped to deal with an invasive predator.

If domestic cats were the same size as dogs, they would never be allowed to roam freely. It's not legal to let your dog roam the neighborhood to kill things and get hurt, and it should be illegal to let your cat roam, too. If you care about your pets, you should want them near you, not left to fend for themselves in a world not meant for them. Outdoor cats live ridiculously short lives compared to their indoor counterparts, and yes that includes indoor/outdoor cats.

Cats don't belong outside. They belong inside where they can be safe, cared for, well fed and healthy. I consider those who let their cat out unsupervised as animal neglecters at best and abusers at worst. If you can't take care of your pet properly, you shouldn't have one. I love cats more than just about anything, and I want to know with 100% certainty that my babies are safe and warm and healthy, and I cannot wrap my mind around cat owners that think letting them just run free is good husbandry.

Again, apologies for the flat tone - I am not trying to come across as aggressive, I am just having a very low spoons day. I didn't want to lose your ask in my notifications by waiting until I had a better tone regulation day so I decided to answer it now. I hope this was educational, and please do more research into everything here. I know there are vets and vet techs here on Tumblr that have talked about this at length, like @drferox and @talesfromtreatment. Hit up their blogs, do some research, and keep your kitties inside where they belong. They'll thank you and live longer for it.

#catcourse #animals #outdoor cats #the ask and the answer but not the book #lovely anon

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letarasstuff · 3 years

Text

Minimal Loss - Maximal Stress

(A/N): This was requested by an anon and plays in the intern universe. It’s based on 4x3 “Mininal Loss”. I didn’t follow the exact plot, but the quint essence is there (you’ll see what I mean). I hope you enjoy it.

Summary: An intern goes along on a seemingly undangerous case with Emily and Spencer on a ranch under the lead of Benjamin Cyrus. What could go possibly wrong (well, everything ig)?

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, guns, vomit, swear words, ususal Criminal Mind stuff

Wordcount: 2.9k

✨Masterlist✨ ________________________________

“Do you guys really think it’s a good idea to bring a child to an interview about child abuse?” Agent Lunde asks skeptically while steering the car towards the ranch, where the allegions originated from.

“(Y/N) is our intern and we thought she has to make some experience in the field and since this is the most peaceful case you can find within the BAU, it’s her opportunity”, Emily defends the team’s decision.

“Also, she is nearly the same age as the girls, so it’s easier for them to open up to her and she is incredibly bright, meaning she can help us deducing a profile”, Spencer adds. The teenager doesn’t acknowledge anything they say, too engrossed in listening to One Direction over her bluetooth earbuds.

Soon the quartet arrives at the Saptarian ranch. “I’m looking for Benjamin Cyrus.” “You found him”, answers the man, who sits in front of a chapel.

“He really is nicely placed. I feel like I looked like this in my math classes. I was like beautiful decoration, but had no use”, (Y/N) whispers to Emily. She in turn has a look of confusion on her face. “You aced math, you graduated with an A+ in it.” “Just because I have good grades doesn’t mean I’m not stupid. I mean, I’m educated, but stoopid.”

A little later she sits across from a blonde girl named Jessica, asking her questions about the 911 call. Her mother continuously steps into that conversation.

“Jessica, can you tell me, if anyone here were ever touched inappropriately?” “Is this really necessary? You are a child yourself, shouldn’t ask one of the other agents the questions?” Slowly the teenager’s patience is wearing down and Spencer can definitely see that from five meters away.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, but I’m perfectly capable of conducting this interview, if you stop interrupting me. I may be young, which doesn’t stand in my way of being an intern for CPS and still knowing my way around, so please step to me colleagues or something and let me do my job.” Hesitantly the mother gives the two girls their space.

As soon as she is out of earshot, Jessica begins to explain. “Nobody is touched in a way they shouldn’t be touched. Or is it wrong for a wife to share a bed with her husband.”

(Y/N) remembers Emily telling her to not judge anything anyone of the girls will say. But damn it, this girl is really hard not to judge.

“Wait wait wait. Let me get this straight: You are simping for that walking quote machine?” Okay, maybe she is judging. But just a little bit.

“If simping means deeply in love then yes, I am simping for Benjamin Cyrus, my husband.” At this point the other three agents get closer again. “Jessica, the state of Colorado demands parental consent. You aren’t married to him unles-'' The black haired woman cuts the young doctor off. “She did give consent.”

(Y/N) can barely contain the unsurprised “surprised” gasp leaving her mouth. But it would have been cut short nonetheless, since sudden gunfire erupted outside the school building.

Fairly quickly everybody is evacuated through the tunnels. As Cyrus tells the cult members to trust in god, the teenager turns to the agents. “This much to it’s safe for me here. Didn’t anybody check for weapons or something?” Flabbergasted because of the whole situation Spencer answers. “Yes, Garcia checked with the authorities and nothing was suspicious.”

Suddenly Lunde takes all the courage she has (maybe because a teenager she brought into this is in immediate danger like all the other kids) and goes up with the cult leader to speak to the shooting law enforcement officers. Shortly after the other three get the message of her death.

But they don’t have any time to think about her, since they all are shoved into the chapel.

While Cyrus holds a speech about trust in god in dangerous and trying times like this the BAU in Quantico learns about the shooting through the tv news report.

“HOTCH”, Morgan yells up to the Unit Chief’s office, probably giving everybody else a heart attack. Alarmed Aaron storms out into the bullpen followed by Rossi, who is attracted by the tumult. “Aren’t Prentiss and Reid on that ranch?” Derek asks, his eyebrows furrowing in worry.

Squinting at the screen, horror etches on the other agent’s face. “(Y/N) is also there”, he says, realizing that they sent a minor with zero field experience into a lava hot situation.

Suddenly the whole bullpen’s phones ring, which results in Hotch barking his first commands.

After a nightflight to Colorado the team sets up at the crime scene.

“Dave, I was appointed to determine the primary negotiator”, Aaron tells him after he pulls him to the side. “It makes sense. I trained most of the people here, if you want me I can give you a few recommendations.” But the Unit Chief shakes his head. “No, I want you to be the negotiator in this.”

Now it’s Rossi’s turn to shake his head. “Aaron, I can’t do it, I’m too emotionally involved.” “So are all of us and why should I take the student if I can have the teacher?” The older one sighs in resignation and accepts the offer. They don’t have the team nor reccourses for any mistakes in this.

As he goes to prepare for his task at hand, Hotch hears a man complaining loudly. “I demand to talk to know why I wasn't told that the FBI was sending undercover agents into the Saptarian ranch?” “The only thing you are in position to demand is a lawyer”, he says while stepping closer to the scene.

“Who the hell are you?” The man spits out into his direction. “I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief. I’m the guy who is gonna tell the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.” “You can’t talk to me like that”.

Upon closing the little bit of space between both of them, Aaron stares him down. “Get off my crime scene.” Just a few seconds of the intense and pissed Hotch Stare are enough to chase that man down to his car and go on his way to Coward Island.

Meanwhile the first contact is made, Emily and Spencer tell (Y/N) in hushed voices what the situation means. “There are three groups here. The leader, in this case Cyrus. The hard die hard believers, the goons of him, and the followers”, Spencer explains.

“In a case like this we go for minimal loss. We try to get as many of the followers out as possible, because the rest won’t give up as long as they can breathe. At first we go with one or two people, children mostly, then with smaller groups and in the end we get out as many of these people we can. Soon, there will be the first supply delivery from our team, but it’s gonna be bugged, which means we know they are listening. Understood?” Emily adds.

Aside from the knowledge that there is a great possibility that they won’t come out alive of this one, (Y/N) is pretty calm. “Honestly, it’s pretty extra here. I mean I can’t even, look at the walls and the whole pseudo decoration. Why would anybody choose this willingly? But yeah, I understand.” Seeing that these phrases are a kind of a coping mechanism, the two agents aren’t too concerned about her right now. I mean, of course they are pretty much on edge because they all are in a hostage situation, but since the teenager doesn’t seem to be on the verge of a breakdown she has to be fine.

“Is there anything you want to know?” The black haired woman asks, stroking the younger one’s hair out of her face. “No, not right now. This is anything but basic, but I’ll hit you up if something shoots into my mind.”

When Rossi comes in to hand make the first delivery, he looks beyond worried. It seems like he got years older in the span of the last 24 hours. As he glances through the rows of people, he subtly acknowledges their presence and well being.

“How do we know this will be nothing like Waco?” (Y/N) asks out of the blue as all the members get a cup of wine. Surprised Emily turns towards her. “You know about Waco?” “Duh? I told you, I’m educated. So, how do we kno-” “And together we drank the poison.” “Oh well, I guess we do now. It’s nearly iconic how bad his acting is.” Now both of the agents look confused at her.

“What? Didn’t I tell you that I was a theater kid? Also, his goons are writing the reactions down, so it’s just a test to know who to separate from the group and who not.” Even in a situation like this a girl in a red and black flannel over a white graphic tee - it is a Doctor Who Tardis - astounds them.

Not long after this, the three of them are shoved into a small room, which looks sort of like an office.

“Which one of you is it?” Cyrus asks. Confused Prentiss, Reid and the intern look at him. When nobody speaks up he pulls out his gun. “One of you is an FBI agent. So who is it?”

In the short silence he points his weapon at (Y/N). “Oof. Dude, what the fu-” “She is a child. The FBI doesn’t recruit children. But she is a good leverage. So, if neither of you reveals their identity, I will blow her brain out.” This is the final point for the teenager to slowly freak out.

“It’s me. I’m the FBI agent”, Emily confesses. Seeing the young girl with panic in her eyes sets something off in her. Roughly she is taken away by two big guys.

“No no no! This can’t be right. Nobody of us is from the feds. It’s not her, you stupid piece of boom-” With a swift motion of his gun Cyrus knocks her out.

“Damn, this is an annoying one. I don’t know how you can even take her seriously.”

(Y/N) wakes up half an hour later in the chapel draped over two stools with her head in Spencer’s lap. He strokes her hair while his mind is running non stop looking for a solution to this situation. A groan tells him that she is awake.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” The young doctor asks in a soft voice. “If good means your head feels like it’s dancing samba without me, then I’m good.”

He smiles. “We are going to get out here, soon. I convinced Cyrus that we are on his side. He also won’t hurt Emily any further. I saw her earlier, he held a speech. She is fine, just a bit roughen up.”

To lie to the girl like that feels wrong to Reid, but he can see signs of a concussion by her behavior and doesn’t want to worry her more than she already is.

Three o’clock rolls closer and closer, which makes both of them more nervous. Because of the lack of communication they don’t know the tactic the team will use to come in. They can only hope that they all come out alive and in one piece.

Since they are in the chapel, their attention is solely on the cult leader. They don’t even notice all the women and children leaving. As (Y/N) and Spencer spot Cyrus with the remote for detonating the explosives, she mumbles “Let’s get this bread”.

When the leader sees Spencer trying to convince one of the die hard believers that he has a choice to change his mind, he punches the young doctor so hard in the gut that even (Y/N), whose vision is slightly blurred, feels the pain he endures.

“Hey Cyrus”, she calls out, “TBH I think all the shit you are doing here didn’t pass my vibe check. Also, the whole system is pretty whack.”

“You are a child, you don’t know anything. If god doesn’t want me to do any of this, he would stop me.” As Cyrus cocks his gun towards Spencer, Derek runs in and shoots him in the chest twice.

(Y/N) crosses her arms over her chest, says “Ok, Boomer” and rolls her eyes.

“Are you ok, princess?” Morgan asks, going over to her and examining the wound on the side of her head. “Never felt better now that there are two Derek Morgans to protect me.” Concerned he goes to say something else, but is cut short by Spencer shouting “RUN!”.

A look behind them shows Jessica short circuiting upon her husband’s death and grabbing the remote.

When the explosion erupts, Emily looks terrified at the remains of the chapel.

“Morgan! Reid! (Y/N)!” She shouts, followed by the other members and their calls after the three. A certain fear captures every single one of them. If only one of them is- No. Nobody can go through this thought. They are going to be fine. They are alive and-

“Thank god”, JJ breathes as she spots three limping figures. They slowly approach the group of four. “EMILY!” The teenager shouts relieved, though a little loud for the proximity between them. “SPENCER WOULDN’T REALLY TELL ME HOW YOU ARE! YOU LOOK TERRIBLE! THANK HARRY STYLES YOU ARE FINE!” Yes, the explosion definitely messed all of their hearings up, since Morgan and Reid also speak with the same volume.

Emily hugs her. “I’m okay. But you need to get checked out.” But the teenager vehemently shakes her head as she hugs Aaron. “I DON’T NEED TO”, when she sees her teammate’s faces, she reduces her loudness. “I am ok. But Spencer, he got a good blow to his guts. I think the Queen in England even felt that vibe check.”

As Derek escorted the young doctor to one of the awaiting ambulances, JJ also gently stirs the girl in the same direction. “Just let a doctor look over your head, it looks like a nasty cut and believe me, you want to get this checked out, Honey.” “But Jayje-” She begins to complain, but gets cut off by bile rising up her throat. In the next moment (Y/N) kneels on the floor, letting out anything she got in her system over the course of the past few days.

“I think this is nothing your body should do, Bambi”, Rossi adds up. Unwillingly the intern goes with the blonde mother to the EMTs. They decide to have a doctor looking over her and getting her x-rays done at the hospital.

A few hours and uncountable complaints from (Y/N) later, the team is back on the jet on their way home. She thanked Emily in a heartfelt moment in the hospital shortly after she got pain killers, which made her loopy, for saving her life by putting her own on the line by exposing her identity. Even Prentiss had tears in her eyes as she saw the young and innocent girl so frayed by the just occured events.

Unusual for Rossi, he takes a seat on the sofa, petting his lap as (Y/N) sits beside him. With pleasure she lays her head onto it, cuddling closer into the fuzzy blanket she got from Morgan.

A few minutes into the flight, Rossi just got into describing the interviews he conducted with Ted Bundy, Aaron motions him to make space. David excuses himself with the reasoning of getting a cup of tea for her.

“I’m sorry”, Hotch says as he runs his hands through his youngest employee’s hair. He is careful to not mess with the bandage she has on the side of her head. Confused (Y/N) looks up to him. “What for?” “For sending you into a situation, where you got seriously hurt.”

This makes the girl sit up, though her world once again begins to spin. “Aaron Hotchner, I hope you don’t mean that. You nor anybody else knew that this was going to happen. You only wanted for me to get as much experience as possible while this internship lasts and I tell you, with that story I’ll go viral on TikTok. Just because I got a medium severe concussion and a wound, which hopefully will leave a badass scar, doesn’t mean you have to apologize. But you can do me one favor.” “Anything.” “When I fall asleep, please make sure I don’t choke on my own vomit. The doctor told me it could happen, that’s why I am not allowed to fall asleep unsupervised. But I haven’t slept in three days and I think I'm beginning to feel uncomfy because of that.”

Smiling softly Hotch nods and lets the teenager take her original place in his lap. Minutes later she is fast asleep. But one thing is certain: As soon as she wakes up and feels any better, she is going to tell everybody who wants to listen about the one time where she got blown up by a fifteen years old girl, who was married to a cult leader. And nobody is gonna believe her tea. Except for Penelope, who greets (Y/N) with a hug and the promise to never let her out of her eyesight.

All works:

@agentshortstacc

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl

Spencer Reid:

@calm-and-doctor

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x teen!reader #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x teen!reader #derek morgan x teen!reader #jennifer jareau x teen!reader #aaron hotch x teen!reader #david rossi x teen!reader #criminal minds fanfiction #Criminal Minds #x teen!reader #reader insert

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oumaheroes · 2 years

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Do you think North ever tries to brush off stuff that's bothering him because his brothers have had a worse time of it or whatever, and they have to be all 'Mate it's not a competition, just tell me why you're upset.' I feel like the others would be old enough to understand that breaking your leg doesn't make your dog dying hurt any less, so all hurts may not quite be "equal" in intensity, but they are all still painful.

Okay so I sat on this ask for a long time because I have two conflicting thoughts about it.

The first take is that of my more general nationverse headcanons:

North always tries to brush off stuff that he, by comparison to his brothers and their problems, doesn’t think is a big deal.

This person won’t message him back. That joint or bone in his leg keeps hurting when he runs on it. He’s got really bad food poisoning from eating uncooked chicken that may or may not have been out of date and now even water makes him want to vomit- all, in the grand scheme of things, not big problems.

When he was younger, he might have been happily vocal about such things but sadly, although they’re all trying to do better these days, his brothers have sort of fed into this habit.

One because they too are all, even Wales, incapable of expressing themselves properly and admitting illness or hurt or any sort of ~vulnerability~ just Isn’t DoneTM . North has learnt by example and now represses these things himself, only letting on that something’s the matter when it is practically falling off or he can’t move. It is customary for the siblings to offer help him (especially more than they ((bar Wales)) offer to help each other) but it is very rare that this help is accepted and, although as the baby of the family North is more likely to accept help than anyone else, he feels guilty when he does.

Secondly, they all sort of agree with this mindset. Can North really complain that Scotland is treating him unfairly by forcing him to cut his grass in the summer, when the things Scotland had to do just to survive are what North would consider to be child abuse/ neglect/ torture? Can England sympathise when North stays over and England accidentally hoovers up one of his air buds that he left lying about? England once saw hot water and glass windows as decedent- just buy some bloody new ones and stop complaining. Will Ireland stand to hear North moaning about not being allowed to drive a car, when the only mode of transport Ireland had for years were horses and shit scary country roads?

Not being allowed to go to a club? Not being allowed to order a take away every night? Being forced to attend democratic international talks rather than go camping with his friends? He’s lucky! Lucky to be given the chance of having a democracy, let alone attending such a talk on an international scale! Lucky to be able to cook healthy food for himself and need never go hungry, lucky that he has laws in place to protect children from alcohol and drugs.

His brothers went through wars, both foreign and civil for the barest of what he considers to be essentials- there are some things they refuse to listen to him complain about because in their minds these problems are below trivial.

They’re more sympathetic to modern problems than maybe they would have been 50 years ago, and although they understand it’s all relative and they try to sympathise, there is still this belief of ‘You wouldn’t know a real problem if it came up and bit you on the arse, now shut up and get on with it.’

Wales is probably the only one to really sit down with North and try to relate or get him to open up by encouraging him that his problems are still problems, despite how different his siblings consider ‘real’ problems to be. But even Wales struggles to understand some of North’s issues sometimes and North often feels very misunderstood and out of place, and then guilty for feeling this. It’s a bit of a mess.

Now, however, for my own goblin headcanon:

If anyone has read Reset, then they know that I have an old and ancient obsession with getting around this problem.

To live a human life on occasion, to be amongst their people and live as they do with all the modern problems and grievances and struggles as well as the joys forces long living nations to remain current. How can they understand their people and identify what a problem is for them if the nation themselves is so dismissive of them?

‘Resetting for good for nations. It allowed them to get in tune with their people and culture and offered a fresh perspective about a human's life. What good would a nation be if they grew up as a child through the Middle Ages, or learnt to be polite and speak as an adult during the Renaissance? To be rich, when all being rich once meant was that you ate meat more than once a month? Ideas of behaviour, of society, of thought and feeling changed so often that the nation could grow at risk of not understanding the human condition, or not empathising quite as well as they should do.

How can a now grand, rich country know what it feels like to grow up in poverty in the 1800's, when the country himself suffered constant starvation in the 1200's? How are the two the same, one with constant war and disease and civil war and low infant mortality, when the other has, in comparison, better living conditions? How easily a nation could be unfeeling, unempathetic, to a notably better existence.

By being given the chance to experience a whole life again, from birth to death, every few centuries a nation could once again comprehend that yes, though easier, life was still difficult. Hardships changed appearance but there were always obstacles for a human to overcome. Suffering was suffering and was not comparable, human life was felt now and their suffering was still just as impactful, just as raw as it had ever been.’

If I take this into account, in my own personal headcanons I see the brothers and all older nations as much more sympathetic. Not to a perfect extend- the modern age has changed too much so quickly for any of them to be able to keep up with, but far more than they would have been able to otherwise. They’re thus a little bit more understanding of North’s more ‘mundane’ struggles and although he still feels guilty and odd for complaining, the feeling is lessened.

#aph northern Ireland #aph brit bros #hws british isles #aph uk bros #hws northern ireland #hetalia headcanons #Reset my beloved #heroes headcanons #heroes answers

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twistedtavern · 2 years

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now I wanna hear about all your Neige aus

Honey, you've got a big storm comin

I'll give a semi detailed run through of all four bec you deserve it 🥰

Cursefic Neige: The original, hardly any different from canon Neige, the Mew of all my Neige aus. I am quite sure I am never gonna write the cursefic, but this is where all of my RSA stuff originated that I use in Shining Wonderland. He was tricked by the twisted version of Zira (who I made an RSA dorm leader) into casting a spell that would summon some random person from our world (Yuu) into Wonderland, put a love spell on them, and plop them down into Night Raven to "brighten everybody up". He fell for it, roped in all the other dorm leaders, and twisted Zira (I just called him Zeroh) and twisted Aurora turned the love spell into a curse when everybody left them unattended. Everyone in NRC went batshit insane after a while, everyone started dying, Yuu got yoinked to safety, the curse wasn't broken so Neige ended up getting yandere'd and he ended up poisoning everyone involved including himself and Yuu because holy shit they caused literally everyone at NRC to kill each other. It's kind of obvious why I won't write this fully.

Shining Wonderland Neige: Ah, yes. The real Neige. He doesn't do any of the absolute crazy shit cursefic Neige did, so we're safe now. This is the part where I made all of the lore that the other three Neiges use, which is that his mother died when he was born, his father remarried, father died, stepmother hated him and forced him to cook and clean, decided she was fed up with him when he was 10, took him to the island where Night Raven and Royal Sword were located, and then abandoned him there. Extreme denial and abandonment issues in hand, Neige found the cottage with seven orphaned dwarf children, basically raised them on his own for years (he just thinks of them as little brothers though), took up acting to support this newfound family, got famous, eventually went to RSA with his dwarf kids, met RSA!Yuu, and got assimilated into their harem. Turns out, the dwarves parents were the overblot monsters in the mine in Twisted Wonderland in the prologue and Vargas Camp, and during spring break the boys end up beating both of them and restoring the parents, Neige's abandonment issues flared up and he overblotted, he got beat, then thanked for raising the dwarves and promptly adopted into their now reunited family. Happy ending! At least until RSA!Yuu has to leave. This is the base Neige, and this exact lore is apolied unless otherwise stated with changes.

Frost Neige: Okay, so. I looked at Shining!Neige's unique magic, which is basically kissing the homies goodnight into a coma, wanted to give him a more intimidating power for the sake of his overblot, and took the snow part of Snow White very literally. I changed his power to putting people in coffins of ice that basically puts them into hypothermic shock coma until he gets them out. It then spiraled from there. I factored this power into his backstory and the abuse he suffered under his stepmother, so tw from here onward. There was an incident when Neige was about six years old where his stepmother was being especially harsh towards him for not cleaning properly, and he had an outburst that froze her in a coffin for seven days straight, and he could not get her out. From there, she called him a monster and told him a lie that it was his power that caused his mother and father to die, and made sure that he believed it. When she abandoned him and he found the dwarves, he raised them while constantly afraid that some sort of "dark side" of him would come out and hurt them. He puts out a smile and sings away the fear he constantly feels, and yet his mind only rewards him with thoughts that he is merely luring everyone close to freeze them "when the time is right". He suffers from genuine intrusive thoughts that only worsen this cycle. Please, for the love of god, someone give this boy a hug and tell him that unique magic doesn't form until WAY after the baby/toddler stage.

Icy Heart Neige: So, I looked at Frost!Neige and said "hm, what if he was ACTUALLY evil?" and this mf dragged himself out of the depths. Fear not your basic yandere, fear the motherfucker who is a platonic, parental, AND romantic yandere ALL AT ONCE. He actually stayed with his stepmother all his life, but had actually frozen her for good a few years ago and has not let her out since. She had seen potential in his power that she could use for her own gain, and thus raised Neige to do the same. He had been taught from a young age that fear and intimidation are the keys to getting what you want, especially with such a formidable unique magic. When they had eventually gone to the magic school island on a trip, Neige found the dwarves when his stepmother sent him out into the woods to not have to deal with him for a while. He came back with seven smaller children, and since she was having none of it but also didn't want Neige to whine, she told him he could keep them only if he raised them himself. I know. What the fuck. So he basically kept the dwarves like little child-pets and it was exactly as unhealthy and fucked up as it sounds. You think Kalim and Jamil's dynamic is bad? Get a load of these guys. The dwarves were Neige's only outlet and source of affection, however one-sided it was. He forces them to call him Papa (the others do not, and he is only one who considers himself to be in a fatherly position) and he calls all of them his babies, and their personalities are all a result of how they've coped with Neige's near constant presence. When they all go to RSA, he meets RSA!Yuu and shows his true colors after they come to stay at Dormalim (the Snow White dorm) and falls into a very possessive love with them. Once the dwarves' parents are found, his "babies" are promptly confiscated back to their REAL mama and papa and he absolutely fucking snaps. I don't really have a planned end for his story, but know that it isn't good for him.

Reverse!Neige: This post is already pretty long so I'll just link to this post and you can read the summary of him that I put there.

Anyways, they 😳

#shining wonderland #shining!neige #twst neige #neige leblanche #yandere neige #icy heart!neige #frost!neige #reverse!neige

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astro-rain · 3 years

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delicate; b.barnes

chapter one - “to wakanda”

delicate masterlist

word count: 1.5k

synopsis: reader works for what used to be shield as a highly skilled neuropsychologist. after the events in vienna involving the sokovia accords and a bombing, she gets an interesting request from friend and coworker sharon carter...a request involving none other than steve rogers and james barnes.

warnings: brief and indirect mentions of abuse/trauma

pairings: bucky x fem!reader

"I don't know Sharon. Are you sure I'm really the right person for this? I'm not, like, an Avengers level tech. Are you sure they don't want a genius or someone like Stark to do it?"

"Well, Stark is pretty busy right now, and honestly, no one knows psych like you. Not who I've met anyway."

"That is so not true. I'm willing to bet there's tons of other people you guys got somewhere who are ten times what I am."

"Agent (Y/L/N), in case you missed it, SHIELD isn't what it used to be. Sure we have old agents who aren't formally 'SHIELD agents,' anymore, but we don't have the expendability we used to. You're our best bet at the moment."

"Damn. I'm your best bet. I'm sorry," she almost chuckled, but then she thought for a brief moment. "Are you sure this is completely necessary? I mean, I saw the photo on the news. The quality's poor at best, and..."

She leaned in, discretely, and whispered.

"...not to seem like a conspiracy theorist commie or anything, but it kinda seems like people are jumping to conclusions here. Are we even sure it was Barnes who set off the bomb?"

Sharon looked around them, cautiously. No one seemed to be listening, but she scanned the room like her life as she knew it was hanging in the balance. She weighed her words in her head, making sure she picked the right ones, then formulated a response appropriate.

"Regardless of if it was him or not, Barnes still escaped. and before that, Ste-we'd been looking for him for almost two years. This analysis is necessary," Sharon brought her voice down even lower. "At least that's what I keep being told. Of course I'd like there to be more solid proof, but I'm not in charge here. He's gone, and they want to be able to find him and 'sort things out.'"

"'Sort things out,'" (Y/N) repeated, questioning the genuineness of whomever told Sharon that. "Unless they have hard evidence that it was him who set off the bomb in Vienna, shouldn't they leave that to uh...Captain America?"

She wondered how Barnes was able to escape in the first place. She saw the containment module he was in; there's no way he could've gotten out without a fight. ...But maybe it wasn't a fight. Perhaps it was a trigger word induced rage. (Y/N) understood a basic layout of the "Winter Soldier." SHIELD would've kept any information they had classified. However, after the fiasco in Washington, d.c. with Hydra and the whole releasing of all files predicament, she was able, with Sharon's help, to put together a simple outline. With that being said, he couldn't have broken out without going Winter Soldier mode. But doesn't someone need the trigger words for that?

“That's what a reasonable person would think, but once again, I'm not in charge," Sharon shrugged. "Things would probably be going a lot smoother if I was, but you can't have everything."

(Y/N) cracked a smile. Sharon was a friend, and a good one too. They'd known each other since before SHIELD was shattered in 2014. In fact, Sharon helped train her.

The only thing was: Sharon was a higher ranking agent and often withheld certain information from (Y/N). It frustrated her. This was where their personal boundaries got in the way of their professional ones.

She could tell there was something Sharon wasn't telling her, but she wasn't about to compromise either of their positions by pushing for information she wasn't supposed to know. Hell, maybe even Sharon knows something she isn't supposed to. Or maybe she knows something that Everett Ross wouldn't like. What if she was keeping something from him? Defying him? What if she was working with Steve Rogers? Now that would be interesting.

(Y/N) was used to secrets around her all the time. She knew Sharon had her fair share, and trying to figure them out wouldn't really get her anywhere.

"Right. Okay. Well, I'll get on this then. Thanks, Agent Carter," she teased in late response to Sharon's 'Agent (Y/N).’

Sharon offered a quick smile before walking off to attend to other business.

- - -

Pain. That was all it was. In every sense of the word. As she strenously made her way through the densely packed file of one James Buchanan Barnes, pain was all she could see. All she could read. It leaked out of the page and seeped into her skin like poison.

It was horrific what they did to him. She knew he had his memory wiped, had someone pull him out and stick someone else in. But it was more than just that. They took his past, his memories, his thoughts; and they ripped them from his mind, leaving an empty space to mold into their own. It was after this when Hydra, in every way they could, dehumanized him, made him less than. He was striped of his freedom, his control, his choice, his humanity, of everything that made him him. They beat and bruised and broke it out this empty human shell until he was nothing but a shadow of faded morality and consciousness.

But hell, she couldn't look away. She was glued to the aftershock of this horrible wreckage. All the years of studying Psychology and Neuroscience couldn't have possibly prepared her for the absolute horror that was his past, his abuse, his torture. It was heinous. Frankly, she questioned how he was still alive. How he still had the will and the drive to be alive. How do you live after that?

"Fuck," she breathed after eons of silence.

She seemed to lose her sense of time whilst she was immersed in the harrowing nightmare of Hydra's cruelty. 'Cruelty' doesn't even come close to doing it justice. When she came to, her desk looked like a bomb went off. Papers were bursting out of manilla folders, littering the linoleum surface with classified files and secret information. She leaned back in her chair, and gave herself a minute to debrief.

(Y/N) almost felt guilty, like she things she looked at were so vile, so violating that she didn't have the right to see them. Sure, she had read and analyzed all sorts of trauma and psychological profiles. But he was different. Something about James Barnes was different. It tangled her mind the fact that a person could endure all that. She could only imagine the effect that would have on the human brain. The possibilities are endless. Suddenly bombing the UN didn't seem so far fetched.

- - -

"Jesus Christ," (Y/N) murmured, staring at her office floor as Sharon finished explaining to her what happened at the Leipzig Halle Airport.

She sat mostly in silence as she pondered over the information just fed to her. Apparently Tony Stark gathered a 'team' to try and intercept Captain America - sorry - Steve Rogers and his (supposed) fugitive friend. It was chaos.

"What is this? Fuckin' Avengers Fight Night?" she wondered aloud. "How many people did you say were there?"

"Twelve total," Sharon clarified. "Five with Stark and five with Steve."

The psychologist shook her head, dumbfounded. "How did it end?"

"Steve and Barnes got out, but everyone else with them were captured and sent to the Raft."

"The Raft?!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "That's for, like, super humans! Not people like Sam Wilson or Clint Barton!"

"You're telling me."

Sharon seemed in agreement with everything she was saying. However, there was something she couldn't quite place. Like she was holding back. But holding back what?

"So what of Rogers and Barnes?" (Y/N) pushed.

Sharon got up and closed the office door before returning to her seat, leaning in, and lowering her voice. This secretive woman, god damn it.

"Well... That's what I came to talk to you about."

Oh boy. She didn't have a semblance of a single idea of what to expect. Apparently Sharon noticed.

"We're the only ones that know this. They're fine..." the agent trailed off, "They're in Wakanda, but they need a little help."

"Are you leaving?!" (Y/N) all but yelled before quickly slapping a hand over her mouth and uncovering it only to whisper, "Do you and Rogers have a thing or something? Cause' I don't know how else you would know all of this when I'm sure that no one else does considering he's now an enemy of several governments!"

"My relations with Steve Rogers are not the focus here." She could've sworn Sharon flushed. "But we have been in contact; I'm one of the few people he can trust right now, and I don't plan on letting him down anytime soon."

They totally have a thing.

"Noted," said (Y/N) with a nod, "but why are you telling me this? Does he want the profile analysis or something? I don't see how he would need it if he's known Barnes for however long."

"Not exactly..." Sharon fidgeted with her hands. "We need you to go to Wakanda.”

[A/N:] this is a repost of chapter 1 because my masterlist is being fucky

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velkynkarma · 4 years

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Big List of FMA Parental Roy Mustang Fic Recs

Recently a family member of mine has been enjoying Fullmetal Alchemist for the first time. I’ve been revisiting it too for fun. While I was at it, I decided to poke through the fandom, revisit old fic favorites, and see if there were any good new ones.

Turns out: there are!

I was always a big fan of Roy Mustang, and especially fics where he acts as a surrogate parental figure for Ed and Al, accidentally or intentionally. It was hard to find good ones though, so I thought I’d throw together a list of fic recs.

Everything here is platonic, and does not focus on romantic relationships. Fics can be from the 2003 anime, Brotherhood, or the manga.

To the Night Sky by Ranowa

Summary: They tell him he lost his mind. He doesn't remember anything else, so he believes them. But if that's the case, then why does he sometimes feel like he doesn't belong here... and neither does that little, annoying, blond kid named Ed?

Comments: In the author’s words, ‘not a traditional amnesia fic,’ and it sure isn’t. Long, eventful, has a ton of hurt/comfort but also a great background plot that ends up becoming more important the farther you go. This author also has a few other great FMA fics that are worth checking out, but this one stuck out to me the most.

War Heroes by Akarii

Summary: Drawn by rumors of a Philosopher's Stone, Edward travels to North City along with Roy and the soldiers of Eastern Command who plan to compete in the North vs. East Training Exercises. However, Ed and Roy find their lives at risk when they get captured by a rebellion group who aim for the end of all State Alchemists and the entire Amestrian government.

Comments: Great adventure fic with some good hurt/comfort, but also plenty of Roy and Ed both kicking ass and taking names. This author also has some other FMA fics that are definitely worth checking out as well, but this was again the stand-out for me.

Number Twenty Eight by Sevlow

Summary: As of today, Edward Elric had been missing for four months, two weeks, and five days.

Comments: An oldie but still a goodie. Ed goes missing, and when he’s found again, he’s a Nina-esque dog chimera in bad shape. With Al on the other side of the country chasing down another lead on his missing brother, it’s up to Roy to try and fix Ed, and take care of him in the interim. Chimera!fic was a dime a dozen back in the days of the 2003 anime fandom, but this was one of the ones that delivered on the premise. Years later, it still holds up and remains a personal favorite, with plenty of hurt/comfort and dark humor moments. Sevlow has a lot of other Roy-centric fics that are equally good, though not necessarily parental!Roy.

Warning: Parts of this fic do get super dark, with references to suicide, gore, and implied sexual abuse during Ed’s missing months.

Bookwrm389: This author had some of my favorite FMA fics back in the day. Imagine my shock when I discovered their FF.net account has been completely deleted within the past year. Thankfully, they only orphaned their stories on AO3, so they’re still available. Since it is an orphaned account now, I can’t link to it for people to browse at their leisure, so here’s individual links to all my favorites:

Gold from Lead ~ There were whispers. There was absolutely no way to stop them. Ed would rip out his spleen if he knew what all those people were insinuating about the two of them.

Comments: Ed gets kidnapped by insurgents to be used as ransom against his father. The problem? Thanks to the rumor mill, everyone thinks his father is Colonel Roy Mustang.

Your Son ~ "I'm not your father. It's not fair that you can affect me this much." A military function becomes a nightmare when Ed accidentally takes a poisoned drink meant for Roy.

Comments: Exactly what it says on the tin. Somebody tries to assassinate Roy, and Ed gets caught in the crossfire. Excellent hurt-comfort. Also features Maes Hughes being awesome, and Roy having an existential oh my god am I a dad????? moment.

Tempest ~ Ed is adamant that he doesn't need a father. And it's only when he's about to lose the closest thing he has to one that he understands how very wrong he is.

Comments: Has a solid dose of both action-adventure and hurt/comfort and found family moments. It’s the full package.

Shadow of a Doubt ~ It was meant to be a simple inspection, but a disturbing dream makes Ed uneasy and fearful. His anxiety intensifies when the mission takes a dangerous turn, putting his and Mustang's lives at risk. Can he hold it together long enough to save them both?

Comments: Another nice, long fic with a good combination of action, hurt/comfort, and family moments. One of my favorites.

Likeness ~ One morning mere hours before an inspection, Roy is amazed to receive absolute proof that his young subordinate is growing up.

Comments: A surprisingly adorable fic in which Roy ends up being the one to teach Ed how to shave.

Bonus fics that aren’t specifically parental Roy but do still have some hilarious Roy and Ed interaction:

Military Courtesy ~ Ed learns how to do a proper military salute and promptly drives the Colonel absolutely insane (or not)

Who’s the Alchemist? ~ A Who’s on First parody that goes exactly like how you’d expect but still had me cracking up

Name Calling by Lost_And_Longing

Summary: From the start, Roy Mustang had always believed in Edward Elric. Even after he'd learned the horrific story of their attempt at human transmutation, Mustang had just looked at Ed and offered him a chance. He'd come when Ed was despondent, weak, and helpless...and offered him a way out. Maybe that was why, out of all the men Ed knew, Roy was the closest thing he'd ever had to a father.

Comments: A 5+1 based on all the different names and titles Ed uses for Roy. Has a nice dollop of humor, hurt/comfort, and parental moments.

Of Hospitals and Health by ReminiscentRevelry

Summary: Al is still recovering after the Promised Day, so Colonel Mustang pays him a visit.

Comments: Post-series (although not by much). A nice fic where Al actually gets a little moment with Mustang. Most parental Roy fics are with Ed, so this was a nice change of pace as well as as sweet little fic in which Roy shows he cares about both of the Elrics, even if only one is technically his subordinate.

Twelve Cups of Coffee by BeyondtheClouds777

Summary: Roy finds a sleep-deprived Edward in his office.

Comments: Just a cute little one shot in which a freshly appointed State Alchemist Edward Elric overworks himself trying to find the solutions to his and Al’s problem, and Roy makes sure he knows not to push himself too hard.

Point of Exhaustion by Took-Baggins

Summary: Roy never thought he'd be the one to be there when Edward finally pushed himself too far, but when the Fullmetal Alchemist suddenly collapses there's no one else to hold him down until he can stand again.

Comments: Another fic in which Teenagers Are Just Bad At Knowing How To Take Care Of Themselves, so the adults step in to make sure they do. Ed’s not eating or sleeping properly when he’s so obsessed with getting Al’s body back and makes himself sick. Features both a parental Roy and a parental Hawkeye, because both of them are fed up with the smallest youngest member of their team not properly taking care of himself and are not gonna let that stand.

When the Rain Falls by Marcellebelle

Summary: Colonel Roy Mustang has two problems: Edward and Alphonse Elric.

Comments: Still a WIP, but the first two chapters are definitely promising. A sickly Ed calls Roy asking for help when his brother is kidnapped, and now Roy has to find one and make sure the other is taken care of. Really looking forward to seeing where this one goes.

As always, if you take the time to check any of these out, try to leave a comment or kudos for the writers and their hard work!

#long post #fic rec #Fullmetal Alchemist #Roy Mustang #Edward Elric #Alphonse Elric #Parental Roy is my jam ok #FMA

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vore-scientist · 3 years

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Return of the Dragon King pt 1: Prison Break

[A non-sexual high fantasy GT/vore story with both hard/fatal+ other fantasy violence and safe/soft]

This story is a prose adaptation of an RP between @vixen525 and I. It takes place in one of her worlds and features mostly her characters.

Summary/Pitch: Separated from Sophia by the evil (and illegitimate) Prince Nero, Yonah must rescue his princess from Nero's devious clutches. With a collection of quirky fantasy characters as allies, Yonah aims to bring an end to Nero's reign and return the rightful heir to the throne.

But before that, he must escape from one of Nero’s prisons.

Story General Warnings: Return of the Dragon King overall will contain hard/fatal vore (in an intense fantasy violence style) along with soft/safe (the good stuff). Themes of abuse and torture as well. (There may be one instance of soft fatal that if I ever get that far I’ll warn for that specifically but it’s so far off from this it may never get written down)

Chapter Specific Warnings: This chapter contains all the story general warnings. This is NOT the chapter with soft/fatal. It’s hard only. It very much treads the line between hard vore and just standard fantasy violence. This part contains a very brief mention of attempted (and failed) sexual assault.

Onto the story:

----

For the 20th night in a row Yonah was replaying the moment in his mind, and like the 19 times before, this time was slightly worse than before.

It started with merriment, feasting, dancing, joking. Then transitioned to screaming, to blood, to Sophia being dragged away and him unable to stop it. And finally ended with waking up here, on a hard stone floor, in a room with no windows, with cold metal around his ankles and a chain attached to a back corner. With a terrible pounding in his head and an indescribable weight upon his core.

While he wondered why it had happened. Why this diplomatic mission to another world had been under false pretenses, however it wasn’t really worth dwelling on. He wasn't going to get answers here. All that he knew was he had failed. He had failed to protect Sophia. His charge. His friend. His princess. She was taken and he had let it happen!

After his 5th day in the prison cell he had given up trying to escape. Whatever that pressure was, pushing on his core, it stopped his magic. He had woken up without his robe, staff, and hat. For a normal wizard that would be a problem, but Yonah HaEsh was half FireWitch in addition to half giant. He had his own natural magic! Surely he could melt the cuffs and bars.

Nope. He could see the air shimmer with heat around his hands. He was generating magic, but it seemed to be… negated as soon as he tried to release it. All it succeeded in doing was make him tired. And hungry.

He was so hungry. The prison guards were giving him just enough food and water to stay alive for reasons that were beyond him. So he spent most of his time laying on the floor. Conserving his energy. For what purpose? For what event? None at all. He just hoped. And cried. Or at least tried to. His tears had long since dried up.

The screech of the prison bars sliding open grated upon his ears and he drew a harsh breath but did not give the guards the satisfaction of interacting with him. He had tried to rush at them a few times, just to have a little fun. But the chains weren’t long enough to let him reach the bars. All his antics got him was humiliation.

“Oy! Halfbreed Thing, you’re in luck,” came the voice of a nameless guard, “the warden decided to give you a treat tonight!”

Yonah didn’t respond. It was clearly sarcasm.

“He also said if you don’t eat up, you get nothing for a week!” And the door was closed again.

He still did not look. He had decided he wasn’t going to even touch what they had assumedly given him. It was probably poisoned, or drugged. Or both. He drew another breath.

That smell.

He finally looked. His heart racing. They wouldn’t… would they?

Standing with her back against the bars was a young woman with straight black hair, wearing a similar tattered outfit as himself. She must have been cold, and scared, but she was not shaking. Instead she stared right into his eyes. The fear in them was evident.

Now that his ears were no longer ringing he could hear her breathing. She was trying to calm down.

Apparently she succeeded. As she talked first.

"So... I guess they put you in here because you use magic too?" her voice was weak, and her accent thick upon his ears but he understood her well enough.

Yonah did not respond right away. Carefully he sat up, leaning against the back wall where his chains were connected, rattling them as they piled up.

“Well they certainly didn’t throw you in here so you could be my pet.” he snorted steam with his words, happy he could still do that much, and pleased him to see her concern at this display. So perhaps he could have some fun, even as her scent started to permeate his cell, leading his thoughts in another direction.

“No…” she answered, not moving any closer. “I doubt they’ve been feeding you well. I suspect they threw me in here in hope that you’d eat me.”

Yeah no shit. Had she heard the guard? Or was she too scared to listen. He had listened, even if he pretended otherwise.

“Being tossed a person to eat. How barbaric. Do they think I am some sort of feral animal?” His voice was hoarse with dehydration, and conflict. For he was considering eating her. Yonah HaEsh, despite being half giant, was not above eating smallfolk, if necessary. And she certainly smelled…delectable.

She shook her head “Many giants wouldn't hesitate if hungry enough… They may be normally polite to smaller folk but when half starved? All bets are off”

Yonah nodded, “I suppose so… Though I am only half giant.” He couldn't do more than suppose, as he did not know anything about giants of this world, though he remembered seeing one at Prince Nero’s castle. A little less than twice as tall as his own mother, and his mother was over 40ft tall! What he did know was that giants in his world would be tempted just like him, and while they were also normally polite… ish… their own survival was more important than the life of someone they did not know.

So why was he holding back? Well for one thing, she was out of reach. For another… He did not like the idea of being fed a person, it was insulting. The idea was nearly offensive enough to scare his hunger away. Nearly.

“Why you?” he hissed. Trying to chase away the remaining offensive thoughts. The mental images of grabbing her, sinking his fangs into her soft tasty flesh, and using his jaws and hands to rip her apart. The thoughts of how delicious it would be to finally satiate his hunger properly for the first time in weeks.

It took her a long minute to answer “I… keep escaping. I got out the door this time, nearly made it to the outer wall.”

“Ohhhh, curious” he breathed out, glad his ‘treat’ turned out to be interesting enough to distract his thoughts with. “You do not look like an escape artist. Or are you of hidden talents?”

She shook her head “The magic they use to… nullify the magic of others… doesn’t work on me. And my own magic doesnt like that im captive and kept… helping me escape”

Ohhhhh fascinating. He did not say out loud this time. “Sounds like you are a handful. Though perhaps you are rather, a mouthful. Or two in my case.” he smiled with all his fangs.

She swallowed nervously “Y-yes”

“Why don’t they just kill you? Are you important?”

She shook her head again “They are waiting for the execution order. That’s… why I’m here.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She took a breath. “If another prisoner kills me… they don’t lose their capital funding for executing a prisoner without the proper paperwork…”

“That’s where I come in” and he snarled “I don’t like being used as a tool. And I don't really want to eat you”

She nodded “That’s… good”

“But I am hungry.”

“Oh…”

“Why are you in this prison?”

She looked away. “I… killed someone. With magic.”

More fascinating by the second. “Why, would you do that.”

It was an obvious struggle for her to answer “It wasn’t… it wasn’t intentional. He pinned me up against a wall and started tearing off my clothes. My magic just... reacted. The next thing I knew he was dead”

Yonah snorted again “Should have been intentional!”

“I haven't had any formal training! My magic just happens!”

“Shame” he sighed. “Do you know why I am here?” he asked, changing the subject.

“You’re… a mage. A rogue one. Like I am.”

That was new to him, “A rogue mage?”

“Practicing magic is highly regulated, don’t you know?”

“No.” Yonah saw that made her very confused “I am not of this world”

She seemed to accept this easily. This world seemed to be more comfortable with the idea of other worlds than his own, which had only started to make contact with new realities. He had also decided she didnt need to know his story yet. For he had not made up his mind on keeping her alive, or eating her. If he ate her, then it would have been a waste of breath to tell his own tale of woe.

He tugged on his chains to pile them up and keep them from getting tangled. And for the next few minutes he occupied himself with this task.

“They stop-”

Yonah looked at her so fast his neck cricked. She started again.

“They stopped using shackles on me because the chains kept breaking. Perhaps I could” she took a single step forward, and seeing that Yonah did not react, took another. “I’m sure you would appreciate more freedom of movement.” She took another step.

“Well not all of us are so damn talented now are we?!” he growled. She took two steps back.

“Im trying to help you! Maybe I can figure out how to get it to work on you too!”

“A self proclaimed untrained mage!” he spat “and why would you help a monster like me?”

For as much as he wanted to be civil, he was also a monster. And as much as he tried to fight the temptation to be monstrous, he did not know if he could succeed.

“It wasn’t being a monster that got you in trouble! It was magic.”

She sounded very sure of that.

Yonah snorted “That is your own assumption”, and turned around to lay his head on the chains, facing the corner.

After a few minutes he heard her soft footsteps, and he craned his neck to look. She had gotten a lot closer than he expected and was reaching for his chains. She was clearly in the mood to help him. Unfortunately he was in a mood to play with his would be treat instead, and he did not have any confidence that she could help, so why not have fun.

“Are you sure that’s wise little morsel?” he sighed with a fanged smile.

Amazingly she did not back up but touched chains by his ankles.

“No. But sooner or later they will get the execution order signed. So my odds of survival are shit. But they are better if I free you.”

Yonah made his eyes glow with what fire he had left “Are they better? You said you were untrained.”

She looked embarrassed, “I’m hoping I can practice on these chains of yours. My magic does disable the nullification. We can work together to get out.”

“Untested magic is dangerous” yonah growled “Maybe I should just eat you!” he snapped his teeth.

Still she did not leave. Instead she stood up and glared at him “So what? I die and you survive another week until the next council meeting and your execution is approved?”

Yonah narrowed his eyes “Maybe I dont care about that anymore.” but he does not move either. “You dont know why im truly here. Maybe I deserve this!”

His fiery eyes still on hers, she retaliated “I dont care if you do! I need to get free, and I cant on my own. You want to be free to dont you? If I can use my magic, I can break these chains, disable the anti-magic on this room, save us both!”

Yonah rolled his eyes, losing their staring contest. He did not stop her from continuing her investigations of the chains. But his mind wandered, until he exclaimed.

“Maybe you’re a plant! Instead of using me to kill you, you’re here to kill me!” he jerked the chains away from her.

“I’m unarmed!” she insisted and scrambled forwards to maintain contact with the metal.

“You said they cannot chain you, that their anti-magic shit doesnt work on you, so yours does work, and it’s killed someone before!” He knew that this new panic was not helping him in the slightest, and yet he did not care.

“Most of my magic isn’t working! I just somehow break chains and disable the magic nullification! I don’t know how it works or how to activate it! But the fact I can means they want me dead so they stop having to catch me! And magic isn’t allowed and I definitely don’t have the indicator that I have special permission, those are super obvious.”

Yonah blinked “Could be lies! You could be spitting lies! Permission to use magic. How ridiculous”

“Everyone knows that the few legal mages have face tattoos to make them obvious”

Yonah breathed steam again and finally she backed away from the painful heat. “I dont! I don’t know anything about this world! You could say anything and I wouldn’t know if it was truth or lies!”

“Oh… right” she looked at her feet “You aren't from this world. That must suck as much as my own problems with my memory…”

She rambled a little more about how she was definitely a prisoner, it was obvious from her malnutrition, and that despite not being able to be kept in chains she had marks on her wrists and ankles from the failed attempts.

But Yonah was not listening anymore. Once again he turned away and was trying to cry himself to sleep.

So she took the opportunity to touch the chains near his ankles again.

“Careful now!” he hissed without looking at her. “You don’t want to get burned” Hearing her yelp as she touched the chains, which he had put his mind to pumping his fire into. Maybe he couldn’t melt them, but he could make them painful to touch.

He heard her curse, and then the chains rustled again as she grit her teeth and grasped the half giant sized links, whining in pain and holding back tears. 3 seconds were all she could manage before she had to stumble back, sitting on the ground and blowing on her burnt hands.

Yonah sat up and looked at the chains. He did not let his face show any surprise as he found rust and cracks that had not been there before.

“Wow. It didnt work. Big fucking surprise, some help you were, but I guess you were telling the truth about being being put here for me to eat.” he lay back down. “Maybe I’ll do that in the morning.”

Suddenly the pain in her hands was not as important as what the half giant had said.

“It started to work! But I couldnt hold on long enough!” she wailed, “I tried! I really tried, to help you’re sorry ass!”

“And you FAILED” he snorted back.

“Only temporarily!” she insisted

“And look where it got me. Nowhere. I’m going to sleep”

“If the chains were just a little cooler! Then maybe-”

“I told you to be careful. You have only yourself to blame for your failures and your injuries” he stated, fully aware it was his fault. And that he was sabotaging himself. And yet he couldn't stop himself.

“I was trying to help you. You don’t have to be so rude. We are stuck in the same situation and I am trying to make a difference.”

“I dont have to be polite either. Now you’re the one being rude, keeping me awake”

She crossed her arms in defiance of her own fear “You’re kind of an asshole. I thought maybe we could work together to escape but apparently you’d rather stay and be executed.” She stood up, glancing at her hands, “Guess I’ll just try to figure out how to disable the nullification and escape without you if you really are that opposed to working together.” She turned and walked back to the cell bars before sitting down again.

Yonah looked away, no longer amused by her company, for he was too tired, and too hungry, too angry. Mostly at himself for heating up the chains.

Of course, he couldn't sleep, even though he wanted to do so. After about 10 minutes he glanced at the human, who was making hand motions at the bars. He could just barely feel the sparks of magic failing to become embers at her will.

That got boring really quickly, and he noticed that, unlike earlier, she was shivering. Not with fear…

“You’re wasting your time, little one”

She gasped and jumped from her sitting position, nearly toppling over. He was not asleep like she had assumed. And now he was staring at her with those glowing eyes again, full of fire and hunger.

“I am not giving up” she yawned and shook even worse, “I have no desire to be executed, not by the prince, and not by you!”

Yonah’s eyes dimmed with compassion, “You can try again in the morning. You keep this up and you’re going to freeze to death”

To his surprise she snarled at him, “What do you care!? You obviously arent worried about execution, and I dont have much else to do at the moment!”

Yonah rolled his eyes “Do you want a warm place to sleep or not? I’m only offering once. Can’t imagine you’ve had a warm bed in a while”

“I- what?” she paused, processing what he said, “Warmth… sounds wonderful… But you talked about eating me in the morning!” so she did not step near him.

“I said maybe. So you don't have to worry about it until then” He considers for a moment “I’m still making up my mind. I dont want to be used as an execution method, but I am starving. However” he yawned, his fangs looking larger than before, “I promise not to eat you tonight, and I am very warm if you want to sleep in my arms.”

“This room is absolutely freezing…” she admitted, “But I dont like the idea of you waking up before me to have a snack!”

She still looked hesitant so he added “Tiddles won’t be able to bring anything with you still visibly uneaten”

Now her fear was replaced almost entirely with confusion “Tiddles?”

“One of the little guards who did this to us. Sneaks me food most nights. If he comes tonight, I promise that I will let you try again, in the morning, to break the chains, before I resume considering whether or not to eat you. How does that sound?”

“How… likely is this Tiddles to show up?”

“He appears most nights, but not the last, and he never skips more than one night in a row.”

“How about you promise to let me try again, regardless of if Tiddles shows up!” she was not about to take such a chance.

Yonah scrunched up his face “Fine.”

“Alright, that’s much better.” she took a step towards him again “It means you have to let me go, and you wont think about eating me until after I get to genuinely try to free us”

“If you’re not tucked out of sight soon, I dont get fed, and I’ll have have a much harder time not thinking about it” he threatened “Tiddles can’t claim he thought I ate you if you’re standing alive at the front of the cage!”

A few more steps, she was almost within reach… “Fine… I guess… I just want to try a couple more times, it will be quick”

His patience waring thin he made his eyes flash “but I want to sleep, and to get fed”

“It will only take a moment!” she stopped just out of reach.

“Tiddles often manages to get me an entire barrel of crap! I’ll be willing to share” his mind now on the food, he couldnt think of much else.

“Im starting to figure it out though”

Why was she so insistent! This was not the time! “You’re tired, and cold, and hungry. You try any more magic and you’ll just pass out.”

He had gotten to his knees but he deflated a bit, lowering down into a position not unlike a crouching dragon “So I offer one more time than I said I would. A warm place to sleep. A proper meal. Or you refuse, and I get angrier, I get hungrier, and you stay cold and my only option for dinner”

She hesitated and finally sighs, “You are probably right... I just got so close to escaping today... I was gonna use a wind spell to blast open all the doors when one of them tackled me...” She took the step forward that got her within reach, and Yonah slowly reached around her, stopping her rambles. “But maybe after a rest I’ll have better success”

Having held back long enough, yonah scooped her up and returned to his corner to curl around his new teddy bear, thin and cold as it was. In contrast, his own embrace is soft, pillow-like even. And warm. So very very warm. She tensed in his grip for only a moment before calming down and closing her eyes with a deep sigh.

“By the way, I didnt introduce myself. My name is Savina”

Not resisting the urge, Yonah nuzzled her with his face, his normally neatly trimed facial hair overgrown and tangled and in need of a wash. He was drinking in her scent, even if he was resisting getting a taste, “I didn’t introduce myself either. Now shut up or I’ll put your head in my mouth to shut you up. I hear Tiddles”

As he was facing the back wall, it appeared as if he was alone in his cell, as the footsteps got closer, along with scraping noise and soon, a jingling of keys. Unlike earlier, the screech of the door opening was not so bad, knowing what it meant.

“You awake big guy? Damn this thing is so heavy… I managed to get a lot of scraps so it’s not mostly water this time! Probably tastes just as bad as all the rest, worse since I couldn’t sneak any salt in... but better than nothing right?”

The only response Tiddles got was a slight movement of Yonah’s head. His bushy mane of unkempt black hair shifting. Then two orange lights appeared. The giant's eyes locked on him with anticipation and hatred.

The guard, Tiddles, who couldn't have been older than 20, dragged a barrel within reach of Yonah, though the prisoner did not make any move.

“The others were laughing earlier about how you got a decent meal tonight… but I dont see any plate. Not surprised it was a lie. Im sorry again that this is not seasoned. But…” He left and returned before Yonah could investigate the food. Holding a large sack, the smell coming from which made yonah take a very intense breath.

“I did bring these… They were going to be used to torture other prisoners. Tested them on me. Just one bite and I thought my tongue would burn up in my own mouth, I drank so much water I thought I would throw up. But maybe it’s not as intense for giants!”

Through his dehydration Yonah started to drool, the spicy smell of the hot peppers filling his half FireWitch brain.

The display of hunger caused Tiddles to freeze up a moment “Um… I’ll take that as a yes to these. Great Goddess they make my eyes water!” he set the sack down and went to the other back corner where an empty barrel was on it’s side.

“I’ll take this one, yes?” Tiddles didn’t wait for an answer but said “you’re… not as talkative tonight. Usually you threaten-joke about eating me along with the slop. You alright?”

As soon as Tiddles had moved away from the full Barrel and sack of peppers, Yonah Sat up and scooted over with one hand. Revealing the reason he was not talking. Savina was tucked into his elbow, having fallen asleep.

Tiddles seemed briefly transfixed by the woman. If yonah had to describe the expression the closest would be reverence. Before cringing away.

“That’s what they meant by a good meal!?” He shook off his surprise “what a load of dragon crap. You’re not some feral animal”

Yonah didnt respond to this continued attempt to bond with him as he dragged the barrel back to his corner and stuck his finger in, building up his fire to warm up the cold scraps and water. Tiddles made no more small talk and left him to his pitiful “meal”.

Once the contents of the barrel started to steam, Yonah nudged Savina awake. She was not happy about that.

“I was actually sleeping well, what the fuck”

Yonah set her on his lap, the barrel in front of them both. “If you dont eat some of this now, I’ll eat all of it. You wont get a single drop, but if you eat now, you wont make a dent in it noticeable to me”

She nodded, understanding, and put her hands into the barrel. Yelping in pain as the hot slop made contact with her burnt hands.

Grumbling about how she was an idiot, yonah rummaged around in his chain pile for a flat piece of metal. It was a band from a previous barrel that he had broken. That was the only time he had gotten an earful from Tiddles about how if he continued to do that, Tiddles wouldnt be able to sneak him more food. He was able, with some effort, to heat it, pinch it, and bite it into a sort of ladle, which he used to scoop up the scrap soup and hold it to Savina who was very grateful.

Even with his encouragement she ate very little. Yonah had no idea how long she’d been here, but it was likely longer than himself, and it was very probable that her stomach had shrunken, so he eventually gave into his own hunger and stopped trying to get her to eat more and let her slump against his middle and fall back to sleep.

But before he ate any of it he took the peppers out of the sack and crushed them into the prison soup. It took all his self control not to just eat the peppers straight up. So he rewarded himself by licking the juice from his fingers.

He would have downed the contents of the barrel like a shot but resisted as it would have wasted all his patience preparing it for better taste. And even if it was literal scraps in unsalted water, hunger was the best seasoning. And the peppers, made this the best thing he’d tasted in the time since he woke up in this cell.

It made it much easier to not think about eating the woman in his lap as he too lay down to fall asleep.

---

He woke first, and during the hours of the night his stomach had become rather empty again. Though he kept his promise and resisted thinking about eating her. He did not, however, resist tasting her; he never made a promise involving tasting.

“NO!” she yelped and sputtered as he licked her face like a very large dog waking up it’s owner, clearly convinced he was going to eat her, panicking.

He stopped licking her, But he was not listening to her protests. The moment she yelled the world felt lighter. He felt… no, no time to dwell. He tossed Savina aside and focused on generating a lot of fire into his ankle cuffs. It wasnt enough to melt them, but it was enough to make them soft. Soft enough that he could pull and stretch them and get free.

And then the feeling was gone. Back to that soul crushing feeling that had been ever present, as if it was never gone.

“What did you DO?” he snarled as he rubbed his freed ankles, which were red and raw from the previously tight metal cuffs.

Savina got up, looking frazzled with one side of her hair sticking up and out at odd angles due to half-giant spit. “What I was trying to do last night! Hey!”

Yonah crawled to her and picked her up, putting his face close to hers to demand, rather loudly “Do it AGAIN”

Defiantly she took his gaze and his rank breath “I wish I could! Like I said before, and like you just saw, I can’t do this on purpose! It just happens!”

In a rage his eyes flash and he bares his teeth “Fucking useless!”. His urge to throw her against the wall lost out to his being touch starved and instead he sat back down to hold her just a little too tight.

He did not fail to notice that a small hint of the relief of pressure occurred when she gasped at his moment of rage.

“So. Did that count as your morning try? Should I start considering whether or not to eat you again?”

She stiffened in his grasp “that wasn’t intentional! But doesn’t it prove what I was saying, that I am too useful to consider eating, that with practice I can succeed?”

“I already got my legs free. I can reach the bars now. Reckon i can try smashing them… and if I eat you i may have the strength to do it” he huffed. With a small amount of food and a night’s sleep, what he had was the energy to be a massive dickhead again. “So you would be helping me.”

“Those bars are heavily reinforced with the prison magic! They’ve kept giants bigger than you in this prison!”

“I’d still like to try, so you’re lucky I want company more than a proper meal right now,” he chuckled against her. She was so skinny she wouldn't even be a proper meal, maybe half of one.

“Please let me try again later to disable the nullification. Then we can both get out and get decent food” she sounded both desperate and angry.

“I know exactly what I’m eating if I get out” his eyes flashed again and he licked his lips.

Savina shuddered but did not sound disgusted when she said “i think i have an idea of what… or who… that might be”

“So, are you going to try again or what?” Yonah was getting impatient.

“Will you be ready to break down the bars when the magic reinforcement is gone?” she asked.

Yonah backed up against the wall, bracing himself so he could charge. If she succeeded.

Savina went to the front of the cell, grasped the bars and closed her eyes, muttering. Occasionally she let go and made hand gestures.

Nothing.

Maybe she needed encouragement. Yonah growled at her. Low and threatening. Savina stiffened and he felt the pressure lift, very slightly, very briefly.

“Get on with it!” he hissed.

“I’m trying!” she shot back, walking to the center of the cell, it didnt seem to matter where she was.

Then she screamed, her whole body hitting the ground as suddenly Yonah was on top of her, having pinned her under a hand. He snarled in her face “Maybe I should just eat you then! At least my last meal will be a tasty one!”

This succeeded in having the desired effect. Whatever the nullification was, it lifted. However he could feel it coming back.

“NO! I’m trying, give me one more chance, I know I can do it!”

He was not listening to her. He had confirmed his theory. Without hesitation he took her left arm in his jaws. She started crying and screaming, Pushing at his face to pull away. “Stop Stop! You’re hurting me!” Her voice was shrill.

/That’s the idea/ he thought.

With a sickening CRUNCH and a shriek, it was Yonah’s turn to be thrown, against the wall.

Not that he cared. Not one bit.

The magical nullification was gone.

From the entire prison. With no signs of coming back.

Keeping his promise not to eat her, and extending that promise to any part of her, Yonah crawled over to Savina and opened his jaws to release the nearly severed arm, along with at least a gallon of bloody drool. Savina just sobbed. Hmmm she could bleed out. That would also be counter to his promise, in spirit, if not in word. He rubbed a thumb and finger together until they were red hot and pressed the tip of the finger to her shoulder.

The scent of burning flesh filled the air as he cauterized her wound. But there were more important things to take care of now.

Fueled by adrenaline, hunger, and literal fire in his veins, yonah gripped his prison bars, making them red hot. In a few moments he wrenched them apart and he was out. He barely noticed the flash of light behind him as he stepped out of his cage.

The alarms hadn't even started ringing by the time he ran into the first unfortunate guard.

----

It was the alarm bells that brought Savina back to earth. She sat up, and blanched as a sticky arm rolled off her chest and into her lap. She was still covered in blood but the wound had sealed. For all her lost memory she did recall something very important. She should keep her arm. Holding it kept her from trying to touch her shoulder. She had never experienced anything so painful in her life-

No… wait. She had experienced something more painful… Now her head throbbed too! Nevermind any of this! She had to find the half giant mage, he was her ticket out. Even with the magic nullification gone, she wouldn’t get far drained of her own magic and severely injured.

It wasn’t hard to find him. All she had to do was follow the trail of carnage and busted cell doors.

The first guard she found had no head, and a chunk of a shoulder missing. Blood pooled on the ground from the massive bite. Hmmmm. He had a nice sword. Putting her arm down momentarily, She took the sword and a belt to sheath it. It was a bit tricky to get the belt off the person and onto herself but she managed. Before she took her arm off the ground and continued on, not caring to avoid stepping in the blood. .

More dead guards lined the halls as she progressed. Most of them were missing their heads, some of them burned to a crisp. But many were only missing their limbs, or had a bite taken out of the side. Some of those were still living. One in particular had been bitten from the hips down, their guts spilling out onto the floor. She decided not to use her sword to put them out of their misery. Her excuse being that it would be too much effort to put her arm down every time.

Finally she caught up to the large mage. He was in one of the storage rooms where the more dangerous items confiscated from mages were kept. He was ransacking it, shoveling items into something, but finished as she entered and stood up, putting a hat on his head. If he wasn’t so large and didn’t have such a distinct physique, she might not have recognized him.

Dressed in a stunning outfit of mostly blues and golds, with a massive wide brimmed pointed hat to match, his hair now shining and tied back in a segmented pony tail, standing up to his full height and holding a majestic wooden staff, the once brutish creature from the cell was looking more like a person. Except for the fire in his eyes and blood and viscera hanging from his jaws.

With misplaced confidence she walked right up to Yonah and holding the shoulder end of the severed arm she swung to smack him in the ankle. He had on boots now and she wasnt sure he felt that until he looked down at her.

“You FUCKING ASSHOLE!” She bellowed “You TORE my arm off! Why would you do that?!”

He looked at her angry and quizzically “The anti-magic field is gone. It worked.”

She did not back away from his gaze, since he was not currently trying to eat her she figured he wasn’t going to. Clearly he had not hesitated with the guards. She waved the arm around in frustration "you didnt have to BITE IT OFF"

Yonah crouched down to snarl “Clearly I did. You weren’t in enough… danger to disable the field. I’m rather clever you know.” Without asking he scooped her up to hold her up to his face with a cheeky, blood stained grin, “After you told the story of your assault, I started to put the pieces together. Mortal peril seems to do the trick nicely”

“I still dont think you needed TO BITE MY ARM OFF,” she repeated.

Once again she used the severed arm to slap him, now in the face.

He blinked in a kind of shock and then bared his teeth “I think you’ve lost your arm privileges”

His first instinct was to get the wrist between his teeth and gulp the arm down. But… he still felt like he should keep his promise. And now that his belly was half filled with chunks of prison guard he could think clearer.

“WHAT THE FUCK YOU BASTARD!”

Savina shrieked as the giant man pinched her arm, the severed arm, plucking it from her weak grasp. His eyes flashed and it was lit up like a match.

Lost for words she watched as her arm burned into ash before her very eyes, the giant man grinning once again.

Now she was shaking with rage “I COULD HAVE RE-ATTACHED THAT”

His grin became a scowl “How in this reality was I supposed to know that?”

“Weren't you listening, you didnt even need to bite it off in the first place! My magic was starting to work!”

He talked as he placed her onto his shoulder, securing her to the harness he had found with his belongings.

“Didn’t I? We dont know that. Guess we will have to experiment later” he smiled wickedly, marching out of the room “But right now, I’m still hungry and there’s still more guards left alive.”

As he said this a guard rushed around the corner with a crossbow and fired. Yonah, having heard the footsteps just jerked his staff and the bolt exploded. He snatched up the guard, put the poor fucker’s head in his mouth and bit down, while pulling the body away. The sound was similar to when he’d bitten her arm, and blood spurted from the neck onto his face, and Savina’s entire person.

Yonah swallowed the head and tossed the body aside “I can’t eat them all at my size even if I only eat pieces. I can burn them, or crush them” he explained as yet another guard appeared which he simply squashed by slamming his staff down upon, “but I think we need some help. The human prisoners do not seem so eager to get back at their tormentors as I had thought.”

“They are running away from you. If you weren’t on a massacre they would probably be taking the advantage to riot and get revenge.”

“So we need more monsters.”

As he continued through the prison he broke every occupied cell, letting the prisoners run, and killing every guard with an intense savagery. But the most horrific thing, in Savina’s opinion, was when he picked up whole and alive guards and tossed them into his hat.

Eventually he broke into a cell and the prisoner inside did not immediately cower or run, but stood up, eyes reflecting in the darkness. A tall pale man with dark hair smiled with sharp fangs.

“That’s a vampire!” Savina informed him. The vampire bowed.

“A very blood starved vampire, and I could smell the flood coming from the other side of the prison, yet I was too weak to break myself free once I felt the magic nullification just, go away. Was that you?” he stared at Savina, not Yonah.

Savina gingerly touched the raw, burned flesh of her shoulder and looked very annoyed, “Yes. it was me.”

“I’m going to feast now, as I see you have been doing, mysteriously small giant”

“Don’t fill up on the ones I’ve killed, take out the ones still alive” Yonah instructed.

“Wise words,” said the vampire, “though I will take a little of this one, just to gain back my strength.”

Before leaving yonah sniffed at the vampire. Then reached up into his hat and pulled out a fancy, though sadly wrinkled and dirtied, suit. And tossed it at the vampire.

“Smells like you”

The vampire stood up from taking a drink of blood from the guard who Yonah had decided to merely kick against a wall.

“My clothes! You are a gentleman monster!” And with a snap of his fingers swapped out his prison outfit for his old one. “I feel more like myself already!”

Done with the small talk, Yonah moved on. It was time to get out of this place, with hopefully minimal distractions. He would still make a snack, a charred corpse, or a bloody pulp out of any guard he came across.

But it was only a few cells later that again, the prisoner did not immediately scream or flee. Yonah could sense a very eerie magical aura from her, she was pale like the vampire but he suspected she was not one. She smiled at him like the vampire but her teeth were flat.

“My dear emancipator, did you come across a spider necklace during your rampage? I would very much like to have it back.”

That was odd enough that Yonah decided not to ignore it and instead reach into his hat. He did not recall a spider necklace so he could only think the words. An object indeed fell into his hand. Which he tossed to the woman who squealed like a giddy teenager as she caught it.

Putting it on she rubbed the shining black thorax of the obsidian spider inlaid on the silver medallion.

That eerie aura from before increased 100 fold, followed by the chittering, skittering, buzzing of millions of tiny legs and wings. Unlike Yonah’s cell, this woman’s had a window. And through it marched or flew an unimaginable number of insects and arachnids.

Yonah took a step back. But the plaque of bugs was swarming into the prison from every window, every crevice, every crack in the wall, every broken pipe.

“My children will clean out this place” she giggled, though it was closer to a witch’s cackle.

Yonah backed away from her. Deciding that it was now time to leave this wretched place, confident the bugs could take care of the rest. It was by her merciful magic that the bugs avoided him entirely, and seemed to be able to scramble away from his footsteps even as he started down the corridor.

Ah, another guard, coming out of a nearby door, a good distraction from the creepy crawlies. He rushed and shoved the guard up to their torso into his mouth and got ready to bite down. As the ribs started to crack between his teeth the taste of this guard matched up to a familiar smell.

Releasing his jaws he held a gasping, screaming Tiddles.

“If you dont want that one, my babies will happily take him!” The bug witch called from behind him.

Ignoring the creepy aura yonah wheeled around snarling “He’s MINE” and he secured the flailing young man to his shoulder.

“Suit yourself” said the witch, “but he seems to not like you very much, and I am not overly fond of him myself”

Tiddles was indeed trying to free himself, earning him a swift flick to the head. “Probably hurts with those broken ribs to struggle like that, little one. I will keep you safe.”

Without another word Yonah turned back. Enough of this. He pointed his staff at the wall and blasted a hole through, stepping outside. Still in the walled compound he did not take a fresh breath of freedom just yet. He ran for the walls.

Arrows and crossbow bolts rained down at him. Fine. It was time for some big magic. Yonah stopped and took his staff, raising it into the air he found in it the perfect spell. He swirled it around and chanted. The morning sky, which was clear, crackled, and a swirling storm cloud gathered overhead.

The guards on the ramparts screamed as bolts of lightning struck them, leaving Yonah free to take down a section of wall and flee into the forested mountains.

It was after he had been half running half jogging for 15 minutes that he stopped and sat down against a cool boulder shaded by the trees. Or rather he nearly collapsed. One big gorey feast after weeks of starvation would not immediately restore him. That would take time. He had been running on the reserves of his magic, adrenaline, and a bloodlust.

The moment he closed his eyes to rest however, he felt Tiddles renew his struggling.

“Why do you keep this up” Yonah mumbled, not looking at Tiddles, but feeling him freeze.

“I dont want to die!” the young man squeaked. “I saw you eat the other guards!”

“Well then aren’t you in luck that I filled up on them? I had enough to be satisfied for a while.”

That did not calm Tiddles down any more, the struggling was back “You kept me as leftovers!” he shrieked.

“Naw” Yonah said and reached into his hat to draw out an intact, but dead, guard, “I already did that.”

He felt Tiddles faint at that declaration. This did not bring Yonah any joy, as Tiddles’ terror had done before. Being so full Yonah just returned the corpse to the pocket space that was his wizard hat.

“So, where to now?” Savina said after five minutes “We need to get going, surely someone will try to follow! There is more than one shift of guards and they will be looking for all the escaped prisoners, especially you, who was responsible!”

“I think the bug witch will make sure no one does” yonah said, though it was more likely that at least one idiot would manage to slip away. “But I am tired, We need to find a cave or something to hide out in to recoup my… I mean our strength”

“I can help with that”

As if on cue the bug witch stepped out from behind a tree. Yonah eyed her suspiciously. Savina was too hurt and too exhausted to do the same.

“Oh really? And why would you?”

She just laughed “You saved me? And you returned my amulet to me! I owe you big time. By the way, you look just awful. Would you like my children to clean you up?”

“What do you mean?”

Before she answered there was more buzzing in the air as wasps swarmed around her “these little gals are very efficient! I promise they will not sting”

“They cannot hurt my humans either!” he said, nervous about what was about to happen.

“Of course”

He still held his breath as the wasped charged at him and his companions. Savina screamed as well before she smartly held her breath too. Tiddles was the luckiest, unconscious for the whole thing.

It was over in just a minute, thank the gods, as Yonah would have to take a breath. Still, he sneezed and a few bugs flew out. Savina was breathing heavily.

“So, bug witch,”

“Cait!”

“Cait… What’s a nearby place for a big monster to get some rest?”

The woman considered “Hmm… The woods that way are decent. Bears will be scared off by you. Humans should leave you alone. There’s a cave in those woods if you want extra shelter. I want to get back to my home but I can have one of my babies guide you there”

“That would be much appreciated” Yonah focused and gathered up more strength to stand up. And then froze in place as the largest drider he had ever seen came into sight.

“Babe!” he called, ignoring yonah and scooping up the witch into a hug that transitioned into messy kisses.

“I got out of the prison!” she declared, “this nice big fellow helped me! Got my amulet!”

The Drider was a full head taller than Yonah and eyed him over with all 8 eyes before nodding. From between all of his feet a smaller, but large dog sized tarantula, scampered up to Yonah.

“Charlie here will lead you to shelter!” said Cait, “Now I haven't been home in a long time”

And with that, the witch and the drider left.

Charlie made a hissing sound while scraping her feet on a rock to get Yonah’s attention. She led Yonah to a large rocky incline and eventually to the mouth of a cave.It was large enough that if he crawled, he could get in. Which he did without hesitating.

The cave was larger in the inside and he probably could have stood up but he stayed sitting.

The spider stayed at the entrance of the cave, made a little dance, and then disappeared.

“Seems safe enough…” Yonah said. He unharnessed Savina so she could sit in his lap. “Guess what, I was lucid enough during my rampage that I picked up food that wasn’t dead guards!” and from his hat he got out some bread and cheese, and even a barrel of water.

“Um… no thanks” she said.

“You must eat, Savina”

“Im too nauseated from the pain.”

She did look a little green now that she said it.

“I have a healing potion… it should numb the pain a bit.” This he took from a sleeve. A small vial. Just a single ounce. It was like a grain of rice in his palm “It will even help with your shoulder, to at least regrow the flesh around it and stop infection”

She took it, and still looking like putting anything in her mouth would make her vomit, she downed it like a shot.

30 seconds later she felt much better. Or at least, felt less pain… She still felt like complete shit. But took the food with her good arm and started eating.

“I dont know why you brought him along…” she said, referring to Tiddles through a mouthful of bread.

“I doubt someone as kind as him works at an evil prison if he has a happy home to return to. Plus if i had let him go.. The other prisoners might not have been so kind to him. He was still a guard.” Yonah yawned, “Fuck. Im tired. Didnt we just wake up like, an hour ago?” he asked.

“Sure but you just broke a prison” Savina pointed out.

“I did… didn’t I…” Yonah tried to lay down but found that didn’t work with Tiddles on his shoulder. So he resigned himself to sleeping upright for now.

Still half starved, Savina did not manage to eat much. So yonah put the food back. He found a outcrop of rock that he could lean against and put an arm protectively in front of Savina. She put her own remaining arm over his. And they both fell asleep at the same time.

Even through the exhaustion of his over half a month in prison, and the torpor his kind got from a full belly, Yonah HaEsh heard the quiet footsteps of someone entering the cave.

Yet his brain was still slow to react. He opened his eyes and stared down.

Kneeling in his lap, holding Savina’s arm to his fanged mouth, moments away from biting down, was the vampire.

----

[FIN]

UHHHH thanks for reading. If you liked this please let me know. If this fits your blog theme please reblog it!

I hope you enjoyed this. and I hope to have more of it for you in the future. lots more adventure to come!

#sfw vore #hard vore #fatal vore #nonsexual vore #ROTDK #sfw does not mean NON FATAL #there is nothing here that wouldnt be in LOTR #well maybe it's a little more intense than LOTR #I work on a sliding scale of LOTR to GoT and this leans more LOTR

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

Text

Don’t Let Go ~ Alfie Solomons

I’m in love with one man and one man alone. Mum and dad love Alfie too, but they still can’t take him away from me ;;;

How did she end up like this, she wondered? They were family...Even though her last name was not legally “Shelby”, she was still a part of the family since she was born. The parents were best friends, and when her parents died, Polly took her in. And then, they grew up together - Same home, same beds, same food, same clothes...Same everything.

And then, war came, and while true, she was younger than even John - Not by much, only about 3 years - But that didn’t seem to bother either of the Shelby siblings, and she was especially close with Arthur and Ada, mostly because they were the ones with the warmest hearts, and could understand her gentle one as well..

However, Tommy was the smartest of the family, and Polly taught her enough about Gypsy street-smarts, so the three of them together somehow became the true heads of the family, the true backbone that kept everyone straight and together.

When war came, she was barely 16, and yet, she joined them, dressing as a man and pretending to be a volunteer physician, healing and running around the battlefield, only to end up helping them dig up tunnels and plant explosions...

And taking a bullet for Tommy.

And nearly dying.

But at least, by the time they returned home, 4 years later, she was called an honorary Shelby and Polly officially adopted her.

She wasn’t Y/N L/N anymore, she was Y/N Shelby, and she was damn proud of that.

She helped with fixing races, rode around with her gorgeous black mare, going to the Garrison with her brothers to make sure they don’t end up drunk, in a ditch, she helped the strategy against the Lee family, got beaten up by Sabini, beat him up right back, got in that whorehouse of a Russian noble family, let the Duchess touch her while in her underwear, got beaten up by the priest, had to blow up a train with good people and many more...

But nothing was bringing her down, because she was a Shelby, and she was strong - Mentally, Physically, Emotionally - And she wanted to make sure the family was together, or at least trying to hang on, somehow.

She was the perfect woman - Never drank, never smoked, never cursed, never did drugs, never did drugs, never dated anyone...

But when one day, Thomas took her on a meeting at Alfie’s place... Boy of boy, was that entertaining.

She always appreciated Thomas’s ambition, cunning and intelligence...But Alfie? Alfie was something else. Something much above him, no much smarter, so much better at scheming...And at everything, really. And she was attracted by him like moths to the light.

Back and forth talks, interesting insights on life, learning words in foreign languages that she didn’t know, but he did, and likewise, teaching her foreign stuff, talking to him about books and many other things...

And it was weird, but it almost seemed like she didn’t want to leave that place any time soon, but Thomas needed her for business, so what could she do, really?

And she agreed...And agreed...And agreed...

Until one day, when all things went completely upside down and...Sure, she did her job, and she was supposed to return to Alfie’s to have a chat with him and Tommy... And she did...

As soon as she stepped inside the “Bakery”, she saw Ollie, whose eyes widened in shock seeing her in that state.

“Miss Shelby, what happened?! Let me call the physician-...I’ll go inform Alfie-...” Ollie stumbled over his words, only to have her grab his sleeve and pull him back. “Don’t tell them I’m here. With the way I look, better make it a surprise. Tommy’s here, right?” she asked, slamming the doors open, walking inside, the clicks of her small heeled boots resounding all over the place. “B-But Miss Shelby, we have to treat you - “ Y/N simply shot him a glare, before continuing in a straight line. “Ain’t a Shelby anymore.” she muttered, and soon, she reached the middle of the wide business room, as Alfie was sitting at his desk and Tommy was pacing. “Y/N...Finally, you’ve arrived. What happened to you?!” Thomas asked, rushing to her side, only for her to push him away. “You lied to me, Thomas. You lied to me. You promised I wouldn’t get hurt. That you were gonna make sure they wouldn’t touch me. That I was gonna come back perfectly unharmed, not even a strand of hair touched. Only business talks. How do you think that went?” the girl looked down, her hands deep in her bloodied, yet incredibly fancy and silhouette-fitting high-waisted pants. “What exactly happened with the Sabini meeting, Y/N? And why are you covered in blood?!” he asked, frowning. “It’s fine, not ALL of it is MY blood, thanks for worrying, THOMAS!” but as she rasped out his name, she started coughing up some blood, and as her side started burning in pain, she lifted her already disheveled shirt, applying pressure with her hand where she got shot to keep herself from bleeding out. “Well...This one is.” she used her sleeve to wipe her face, completely non-chalant. “Y/N...Tell me what happened...Please...” Thomas’s voice went lower, almost as a soothing whisper, but it was quickly obliterated by Y/N’s exaggerated, yet pained laugh. “I got beaten up, raped and shot by Sabini and his men. That’s what happened, Thomas. No business talk, just abuse. You promised nothing will happen to me...But, oh, damn, remember that you told Lizzie the same too, and she, that fucker raped her at the Derby too, when you were too busy fucking around with two other women? Oh, wait...Is it because I’m a woman? Because, the way I see it, all women that you have in your life get abused somehow...By you. Grace died because of you. Ada left the city because of you. May got hurt because of you. Esme hates you...There’s also the Duchess, but she very much outsmarted you, so she’s safe and...Still a noble woman. And don’t even get me started on Polly...Poor woman...Having to endure living in the same world as you. For the amount of time you spend fucking women, one would think you’d be more considerate of them.” her beautiful eyes were sharp and hateful, throwing daggers at the man in front of her as she continued to pace around, her tongue speaking the poison that very much tainted her heart over the past many years of her life. “...Y/N. I know you’re in pain, and that I’ve hurt you. I know. You are right, I agree. I’m aware. But it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t have known, and-” as he continued, the girl calmly approached him, and as soon as she was right in front of him, she back-slapped him, thanking her classy mind for wearing lots of rings that day. As she laughed at the way the wounds showed up on one side of his face, she followed by slapping him on the other side, much harder than before. “Shut the fuck up, Thomas Shelby. Don’t speak to me. Don’t get close to me. I am not a Shelby anymore, so you can fuck off...Do you see who you’re doing business with, Alfie? A guy who can’t even protect his family! He got all of us arrested and almost hanged, made Ada go away, made Polly go insane, had Arthur beaten up, me as well, and guess what, Michael got shot and JOHN GOT KILLED! BECAUSE OF YOU, THOMAS! Grace died because of YOU! And your child got kidnapped and almost died BECAUSE! OF! YOU!” with each sentence, she punched him, hit him, kicked him, smashed him head with her knee, then on the wall, then ended by stomping her boot on his stomach...And walked away, as calmly as if never happened. “And...This is not my blood.” “Well, lass, gotta say, yeah, you ain’t as much of an angel as I thought, eh. Or, maybe now more than ever, you’re the angel I thought you were.” Alfie watched from behind the desk, completely relaxed, analysing the show in front of him, and yet, his brain was running a thousand miles per second, thinking of millions of things. “D’you have a free spot here, Alfie? No guns and death and all that. Maybe...Someone to patch up your boys. I don’t know. Hell, I’ll even accept being your secretary or...Flower girl. Cook. Tea girl. I can walk Cyril...I don’t know, anything you want, just get me the hell out of this Shelby hell.” she turned around to look at him, using her other sleeve to clean her face, using the water from her tears. “Heard that, Thomas Shelby? Your sister’s deserted you, and for a good reason, eh. You can leave now, there’s other times to do business, right.” Alfie spoke, getting up and stepping towards her. “This isn’t over, Y/N. We’ll talk again. You’re a valuable part of the family, and you’re coming back, sooner than later.” Thomas went get get out of the building, only for the girl to quickly take out the gun from her jacket and cock it, pointing it at the man. “Fuck off and go to hell, Thomas.” she pulled the trigger... “Stop it, lass, don’t do it! You’re gonna regret it!” Alfie sprung out, holding one of his arms around her body, while his other hand went to her gun, making her shoot a wall instead of a living being, letting the man get out of there, still alive, somehow. “Damn it, Alfie! Why’d you do that! It’s 2 for 0, damn it! I’m fed up with taking bullets to save that guy, while all he does is sit comfortably behind his desk, damn it! I’m not a fucking rag doll that can be tossed in the trash!” she cried, trying to struggle out of his grasp, but the wounds were hurting her too much, so her strength gave out faster and she stood limp in his arms, trembling softly. “S’okay now, lass, yeah. I’ll bring ya to Cyril and we can...Uh...Drink that tea you like, right. Forget that guy, let’s get ya treated, right. Get that bullet out of ya. And sure, y’can be my physician, I know you were a great one in war, yeah.” the Jew gently took out the gun from her hand, throwing it to the ground for Ollie to take later, an he picked her up with much, bringing her to the medic’s room. “I need vodka, cigarettes, and if I’m brave enough some Tokyo...Snow...Whatever you call it.” she groaned as soon as she was place on the bed, as the gangster frowned in confusion at her. “I thought you didn’t do vices.” he sat on the opposite bed, watching her intently. “Woaw, I lied to you and everyone else in the world. I do drink and I do smoke and I did date before...Just...Not when people were seeing me. People think you’re an angel, they will hopefully leave you the hell alone. Difficult being a woman these days, as you can see. Everybody’s treating you like a piece of garbage. And bring me that vodka, I need to have the room spinning before I take out the bullet...And vodka’s the best disinfectant. The hospital stuff is washed up and diluted a lot of times.” she gave him a sarcastic half-smile, taking the cigarette he just lit up and puffed on it. “Only whiskey and rum, if you want, yeah. You don’t have to pretend to be someone you’re not around here, lass. Just do what you want, nobody’s gonna say a thing, right, and if they do, you know how to use a gun, so shoot their brains, eh, show them all who’s in charge.” he got up, bringing her what she requested, watching attentively as she let her head back, poofing smoke into the air. “Thanks, Alfie. Come back in an hour. I don’t need witnesses of my misery. You know better than everyone, Captain Solomons, that taking out a bullet gets messy.” she pointed the cigarette at him, smirking miserably at him, knowing very well that she wasn’t mentally ready for the procedure. “Well, lass, if you’re very sure, you don’t need help, right, then I’ll be waiting outside.” the Jew patted her head, leaving the room, letting behind only a graveyard silence, that for some reason, creeped the girl out big time. “...Let’s fuck shit up, then...” she muttered to herself, letting the ashes of the cigarette fall pitifully on the bed, as she took a deep breath and violently slammed her hand over the medical tools.

She’s always been a very careful and precise person, and whenever she did this on someone else, she would have people keep the victim down, so she could rummage through their bodies with relative ease, especially after they got shit faced drunk...And maybe with some anaesthesis... But this is the worst. Just like back then, during the war...

Letting a few tears of anticipation fall down her face, she cut a bit deeper into her body, to allow her fingers, previously washed with alcohol, she whimpered and squealed as she searched around for the bullet - It was no easy feat for, but it had to be done, no matter the searing pain -.

It felt like time stopped completely before the extraction of the stupid lead thing, she held it in her hand, watching its taunting gleam glaring back into her eyes, then watched with horror that stupid bottle of whiskey, and with her last strength, she snatched it and putting her pillow over her face to keep the shrieking from leaving the room, and gritting her teeth, she let the alcohol pour out from the bottle, wailing loudly, and yet, hoping nobody would hear her.

She was still sobbing in the pillow, the fire-like pain, electrifying the surging, diffuse pain throughout her whole torso, and she laid there, throwing away that pillow as soon as the door was opened again, and adjusting her head, she noticed Solomons walking in the room, a basket dangling from his arms.

“What’cha got there?” she asked in a weak, whisper-like voice, still trying to recover. “Goodies. Freshly baked cookies. At least something that smells nice in this pigstry, eh.” Alfie’s joking way of speaking seemed to take away her mind, but she smiled apologetically, lifting her hands briefly. “Sorry, too much blood on my hands. Literally and metaphorically speaking.” she explained, only to have Alfie take out one of the cookies and feeding her. “...This...Is the best thing I’ve eaten in my life. Did you make them? Because if you did, you’re like...A Cookie God. Have more?” she asked, managing, with a lot of difficulty, pain and his help, to get in a sitting position. “Well, I’ve never been called a God, right, but it ain’t that bad, yeah. Here you go, one more. I’ll ask a maid to draw a bath for you, yeah, I doubt you wanna stay all bloody the whole day, eh.” he helped her eat another cookie, and weirdly enough, despite all the blood on her face, her small smile was oddly charming. “...Y’know...If you ever want to retire from this gangster bullshit...You could settle down and...Just bake for a living...No, rather, a hobby. I’m sure you have enough money for a life time, so might as well just rest and take it easy. Move away from here...Maybe another country...Or another city, at least...And just...Y’know...Be happy. You could do that...And be rid of stupid Italians and Americans and all these jerks.” Y/N spoke, more or less not directly to him, but in a way, she was projecting her own hopes and dreams. “Margate.” Alfie muttered, sitting down in front of her. “Margate?” she furrowed her brows in confusion, leaning forward a bit. “Aye. By the seaside. The sand is really soft, they say, and the waves are nice, yeah. Very calm town.” he continued, which made her gasp softly in realisation. “You...You DID think about retirement! It means you’re really kinda fed up with this...This mess. I like where this is going.” she smiled softly at him, nodding in agreement. “I think you’re making the right choice, if it makes for anything.” “Y’know, lass, you’re not wrong. We do need a vacation, yeah, and a very long one at that, right. Now, how ‘bout we talk about what you need, right, for this medical thing. You’re a sensible woman, yeah, so, I trust you more with the details and organising.” he pointed, and thus, they started chatting idly about the medical issues, and even more, about life in general - Books, the pictures, concerts, travelling and things...Leisure things, just simple things that she never had the privilege to talk about, and she had no idea she wanted, nor needed.

Many weeks passed and things were unusually calm for her, and for the first time in her life, she felt...Happy. She enjoyed being around Alfie, working with him without being involved in all the killing, and she absolutely loved baking things together, and he was so charismatic and charming, always giving witty remarks that amused her and made her laugh...

It was the perfect life she always dreamt of having, and he even asked if she wanted to go to a jazz pub with him, and...She got to dress up, and do her make up and do her hair, wear pretty, expensive jewellery, and a damn fine dress to show off her gorgeous silhouette, and high heels to match...And she walked next to him, her arm hooked to his, as they enjoyed the beautiful jazz music and each other’s presence.

It was a blissful dream, and she swore that if anyone dared wake her up, she was gonna kill them, and it won’t be quick, nor painless.

“Y’know, Alfie...You’re the best man I’ve ever met in my life. And that says a lot, considering how many men I had the misfortune of meeting...Including my family.” she raised her champagne glass slightly to clink with his. “Maybe you haven’t met the right men, dear, yeah, y’know, and men in Birmingham are fucking shit anyway. Camden’s better, yeah.” the man chuckled mirthfully, leaning back on his chair. “You...Mentioned Margate once. How are things going on with that?” Y/N asked, smiling at him softly. “Well, lass, y’know, yeah, things are...Things are fine. But, uh...You see...The doctor said I’m sick. They aren’t really sure yet what’s wrong with me, alright, but they said the results should be given pretty soon, yeah.” he admitted after a few seconds of consideration, which made the girl gasp in shock, moving her chair to look at him better taking his hands in hers and leaning forward. “What did they say about it? Did they take blood sampled? Wanna do blood work? Or...Biochemistry tests? Or something more complex?” Y/N bit her lip, looking concerned like never before. “Don’t worry, lass, even if I die, yeah, I’ll still make sure you get paid for your hard work, alright?” the man tried to brush it off, but the indignant look on her face made him chuckle. “I’m gonna kill you if you imply something like that again. I don’t need your money, I just want you to be healthy and alright, got it? Now come on, tell me, what do they suspect. Also, where is your doctor’s clinic, and when will your results arrive.” she pressed on, waiting for an answer. “Come on, don’t be so serious, yeah, enjoy the show, it’s not every night we get to have fun, right?” Alfie, again, tried to play it off as nothing important, but the look on her face made him sigh and nod, giving in. “They think’s cancer, right. I got a tumour, they’re checking if it’s...Uh...Cancer or not. right. Doctor’s around here in Camden, results come out sometime in a week or two, that enough?” he rolled his eyes, and yet, he was grateful for her worrying. “...I guess. If I knew, I would have done the lab work myself, but, you know...If anything, I can do the procedure myself... Or maybe I should hold your hand and make sure you’re not scared. They have to do general anaesthesia, cut you open and all that...It won’t be fun.” she looked down a bit, before smiling encouragingly at him. “Y/N. I’m a big boy now, right, I’ll be fine, no need to worry about me, yeah, you just...You be okay, and relax, and-...And before long, we’ll go to Margate together.” he continued, trying to calm her down, without realising at first of the commitment, until he noticed the excited gleam in her eyes. “Alfie...? Are you...Are you sure...? Margate is the place you want to go to...Why would you...Me...?” she muttered, almost unsure of how to react. “Let’s go home, eh. I want to make you some nice tea, yeah, and some cookies. I have to tell ya something, and I’d rather it not be out.”

Alfie squeezed her hands, helping her get up, and the walk home was filled with anticipation and a comfortable silence that wanted to rip out the answers out of his throat.

He let her dress in more comfortable clothes, and so he did, then went down to prepare some nice and warm tea, with the biscuits he baked that day, and went to her room.

“Do you like me, Alfie?” she asked in a shushed voice, not daring to raise her head to look at him. “What’s not to like, lass? You’re smart and witty, and for some reason, you find me funny, and look at ya, you’re gorgeous, right. So if I say, yeah, I want you to come to Margate with me, I mean it. You just have to agree, aye. Get away from this and rest. God knows we need this.” he had a sweet smile on his face - A smile that quickly faltered when he saw stray tears falling down her face, and he started worrying. “Why...In the world...Would someone as amazing as you...Like me? Alfie, you’re...You’re amazing, and me, I’m...I’m the worst. I can’t let go of the past, and I’ve got like...This...This devil inside me...This Shelby devil that keeps whispering in my ear, saying that I’ll never be happy, and that I’ll...I’ll kill again, and I’ll be dragged back to that slum and...And all that happiness will just shatter and...And I don’t deserve you.” she looked down, hoping her long her would hide her face, but next thing she knows, she got brought into a tight embrace, and he stroked her hair, his chin on top of her head, waiting for her to calm down, and yet, he could feel her trembling softly. “Don’t say things like that, yeah, that’s not true. You’re with me, not with them anymore, right, so, then, you’re going back. I won’t let them take you back, if you don’t want to, aye. No need to cry, right, I’ll protect you from anyone who dares try to take you away, eh, even if it’s Tommy Shelby himself, so no need to cry, yeah, Y/N?” he spoke, only to feel her cling even tighter to the back of his shirt. “I...I’ve...I’ve never felt like this before, Alfie. You make me feel so warm...And safe...And happy...I’ve been hold before, but all I felt was repulsion and fright...I was panicked and I wanted to run away...But this...This never happened. And I think I love you, Alfie. Don’t let go of me, please.” her voice was barely audible, but Alfie could feel the raw emotions, so he laid down with her on the bed, holding her dearly. “It will be fine, Y/N, okay. None of these worries will come to you again when in Margate. You and I will be happy, away from here, yeah, so, know that I love you, and let’s wait just a bit more, so we can get rid of this Changretta mess, and we’re leaving, eh.”

And it was true - From that night on, they slept in the same room, holding each other dearly, reassured that the next day, things will still be as good as the previous night. One morning, however, Alfie woke up without her in his arms, and he panicked, thinking the worst - Poor Ollie thought he was going to get killed - But it was all fine, as she returned with the biggest grin on her face, jumping in Alfie’s arms, not allowing him the chance to say a word, only shocking him. And she held his hands and dragged him to his room, getting him to sit on the bed, and at first, she wanted to make tea, but then she shook her head and brought a bottle of the best whiskey, poured it in the glasses and had him drink.

“Damn it, lassie, don’t fucking scare me like that, yeah, like, at least tell me in advance if you’re gonna leave, okay, I thought those fuckers got ya for good. What the hell was the urgency?” he asked, drinking the glass in one go before looking at her. “I...Well...Haha, sorry ‘bout that, I’m just...I’m sure super happy. So, as you know, today the doctors had to mail you the test results, so, you know, I seem to have been a bit too eager to find out, so I since there were no trains, I walked all the way to your doctor, told him this and that, then got the first train back, and here I am. Oh, and, obviously, I’m super happy ‘cause like, I couldn’t keep myself - Sorry ‘bout that, by the way - So I ripped the envelope and looked at the results. And, uh, yeah, so, I’m happy ‘cause - Look ! - No cancer! You’re completely, 100% cancer free! And, like, the tumor completely benign, no invasiveness, no metastasis, so this is completely curable by surgical removal, and it won’t affect your life span, nor will it, in any way, alter your health. Et, voila, here we are! Go on, drink, cheer, be happy, I know I am!” she laughed gleefully, watching the shocked spark in Alfie’s eyes as he took out his glasses to read over the annoyingly complicated medical stuff, but he was a smart guy, and he understood everything there is to it. “You’re the best, shiksa. You say things are gonna turn out bad, but here, look, they aren’t, and hey won’t right, ‘cause clearly, there’s something up there, alright, that’s looking out for us, and it ain’t only me making sure you’re fine. I’m happy, Y/N, and in less than a month, aye, we’re fucking away from here. Just the two of us...And Ollie as a butler, if ya want. And we can get as many dogs as you want. We can do whatever we want, really.” he hugged her tightly, cupping her face and kissing her tenderly.

It all went sweet and soft at first, and it got hotter and hotter, with much more passion than before, and one thing led to another, and their first night of overflowing love gave hope for a better future, one that will ensure their happiness and that won’t involve them in this stupid gangster war anymore.

Just him, her and Cyril, maybe Ollie too, at the side...What better life to have than this?

But just one week before they had to leave, as they were still preparing for their grand exit, Y/N was walking towards the clinic room to check on the few patients she had left, only to notice the glint of guns, and she did a turn around, looking for Alfie, and yet, Ollie stopped her in her tracks as soon as she saw her, rushing to hide her from the people who were, apparently, having a meeting with Alfie.

“Ollie, it’s an emergency. Life or death, I promise. I NEED to speak to him. Who is he having a meeting with?” she asked, holding her clipboard close to her chest, looking left and right carefully. “With the Sabinis. Now, come on, Y/N, whatever it is, can wait. I’m sure you can wait a bit with Cyril. Please.” Ollie pleaded with her, but she only started writing rapidly on her clipboard, letting the first two pages filled with obvious, typewriter-written pages about standard medical procedures. “I’m sorry, Ollie, but this is bigger than even Sabini. Come with me and NEVER leave Alfie alone with those sharks, got it?” she gave him a sharp look before rushing to the usual place Alfie had business meetings, and as she completely ignored the villains, she slammed the clipboard on his desk, giving him a look. “Very important medical business thing, I need your signature after you read through these.” as he was so much taller than her, she only needed to bend a bit to talk into his ear, carefully flipping the first two pages, only to reveal big, messy writing.

ENEMIES WITH GUNS IN THE MEDICAL WARD POINTED TO THE BOYS DON’T TRUST THEM

Alfie gave her a look, knowing shit went bad, he nodded slightly, getting a pen and, as his signature, he wrote “TELL OLLIE”, and ushered her to leave. And so she did, and Ollie went to alert the other guys so they could ambush the enemies in the medical ward, all while cursing herself and preparing guns, hidden in her long trench coat, then returned to stay by Alfie’s side, her hands placed on his shoulders reassuringly.

“Mr. Solomons, I see the little song bird likes flying around to every powerful gangster family. Wonder if she’ll go to the Changrettas when she’s done with you.” the Sabini leader smirked at her, and Alfie could feel her nails digging into his flesh, and not even the good way this time. “Listen, listen, Mr. Sabini,eh. You come here, begging me for fucking favours, right, and then, you dare fucking speak ill of my partner, yeah? So, where is the fucking time where you, like, do something to make me want to do that fucking favour of yours, if the only fucking thing you make me want to do is to fucking grant you the favour of putting you out of this miserable fucking life, right?” there was no clearer indicator that Alfie was angry than when he cursed like his beard was on fire, and true, YN found it very weird, considering how sweet and gentle he’s always been with her, but she could feel the protective aura he gave off, and she never felt safer than now. “Aye, aye, Alfie, don’t overreact, please, it was just a merely innocent joke! Lighten up, let’s discuss business. We teamed up with Luca Changretta, we can give you money and exposure. We can sell your rum and weapons all over Europe, especially France and Italy, and that means, in the long run, a ton of money. I’m sure you’ll agree with me, won’t you?” Sabini spoke, and from the corner of her eye, she could see one of the men taking out a gun from the back of his pants. “Mr. Sabini, I will have to ask you, as Mr. Solomons’s secretary, not to take out any weapons, otherwise our men will shoot all of you, with no discrimination.” Y/N threatened in a low voice, taking her hands from Alfie’s shoulders, and crossed her arms to her chest, ready to draw her weapons at any second. “It’s alright, Y/N, right, I don’t think Mr. Sabini is fucking stupid enough to dare a shoot out in my own fucking warehouse, eh.” Alfie warned the Italian gangster, snapping his fingers for Ollie to come by. “Vaffanculo...Che stronza! No, fine, fine, we’re all calm, all good, right? We can have a business deal and leave this place happy, both parts, right?” Sabini spoke, using his hands to gesture everyone to calm down. “Stick that deal up your ass.” Alfie cursed Sabini in perfect Italian, making Sabini straighten up, almost as if he got sobered by a hammer to his head, and without a second to wait, some of the lackeys drew their guns.

But they were too late, for Y/N already had both guns out and killed most of them, starting with Sabini himself, and Ollie’s boys helped up just enough to have the Red Sea at their feet.

Once all the enemies were laying dead on the cold, wet ground, Y/N sighed, throwing the guns to the ground, sighing and staring at the carnage with the eyes of a dead fish.

Alfie nodded to himself, pissed off at the mess that just had to happen, a week before they were going to sail to a better place, without either of them having to bloody their hands anymore, just like now.

“Well, Ollie’s got them all, so we’re good now. The sooner we finish the preparations, the better. Let’s hope Changretta the Bitch gets blown up...I should go check on Cyril, I’m sure he got scared by the gunshots.” Y/N sighed, patting him on the shoulder before turning on her heels to leave, and yet, Alfie motioned to Ollie to clear the mess, and then followed her back to their room, watching her cuddle with the beautiful dog. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Alfie asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching to stroke her hair, only for Cyril to reach to get his head pet instead. “Aw, Cyril...You’re the cutest baby ever. And...I will be, Alfie. I will be. Soon...Once we leave, I will be. Until then, I’m happy spending my time with you and Cyril. It relaxes me...And it makes me happy. WE are happy.” she reached out her hand, holding his, intertwining their fingers together and leading him to lay on his side, with the dog between them, like they were a family. “Well, darling, it’s just a few days longer, and we’re out of here, right. And we’ll be a family, like you want, and by the shore, there’re no more gunshots, right, so, we can learn how to swim, and we can mess with this slobbery bastard, and I can teach you how to bake other things. I heard the waves and the salty air help you sleep better. Ain’t that just fucking perfect, eh?” Alfie gave her a sweet smile, and laid there, with her, relaxing. “Sounds amazing, Alfie. I can’t wait for Margate, then. Just you, and me, and Cyril...And maybe Ollie too, y’know, that guy makes the best tea, ain’t gonna lie.” she giggled, squeezing his hand lovingly. “Aye, it’s gonna be great. And, we can travel wherever you want, whenever you want. Any country, any city, any date. You pick, we go. Sounds good?” Alfie asked, smiling tenderly at her excitement, happy that she wasn’t stuck on the previous blood bath. “Yeah, it sounds perfect. As long as we’re together, everything is better.”

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