#bitch you think it was my choice to be born here. my grandfather's family had to flee iraq.
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you’re not even american??, you’re an immigrant to palestine living in the illegitimate regime of the israeli occupation…
first of all, I'd hardly call myself an immigrant considering my family has been here for 7 generations, long before the "illegitimate regime" had been established. second of all, where do americans live again?
#the hypocrisy is INSANE#“those damn israeli colonizers! unlike americans who famously live in their indigenous homeland”#bitch you think it was my choice to be born here. my grandfather's family had to flee iraq.#leftist antisemitism#hate ask adventures#hila answers asks
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I loved what you did with the Donna ask. Could I request a part 2 where Donna's son starts interacting with the other lords and Angie? Maybe include Donna getting more possessive if her son since he's finally back on his feet and other people and taking him away from her, not used to him being away from the house?
Broken Truth: Well, she did make sure her son was strong now she has to protect him from her greedy family! Let the words weave together and see what Donna shall do to keep her son!
[Beneviento Estate]
"Which do you think is better, Angie? The Blue One or The Black One?" [Y/N] asked the doll as he put both the ribbons up to the collar of his dress shirt. He had a mirror to his left but he couldn't make the choice himself and asked the Wedding Dressed Doll that sat on his dresser this question.
"Why does it matter? You look good in both of them." Angie said.
"Thanks for the compliment, Angie, but I want this to be perfect. Mother gave me her father's Beneviento Tie Brooch and I want to look as sophisticated as he did." [Y/N] said with a smile at the thought of himself being honor to the Benevienot Name.
"Alright...Um...The Black One." Angie said.
With a smile, The Young Master looked at the black ribbon as he placed the blue ribbon back on his dresser and grabbed the Beneviento Insignia Tie Brooch from the dresser, and weaved the black ribbon in the back before bringing the dangling brooch to his shirt - the wings of his collar upward - and tied the brooch around his neck before lowering the wings. He reached and got his House Jacket off the vest of the coatrack in his room and wore it. He looked at himself in the mirror with a smile - he was distracted with his appearance that he didn't hear the door open until his mother spoke to him.
"You look like a truth Beneviento, [Y/N]." He looked at his mother who smiled at him as Angie ran over to her mother.
"Thank you, Mom. Are you ready to go?" The son asked as he walked over to his mother.
"Yes. I'm unsure why Mother Miranda wanted to have dinner at Alcina's Castle but...as her daughter and servant, I must listen to what she says." Donna looked to the ground, she was not looking forward to this dinner.
Mother Miranda said this dinner was going to be about integrating [Y/N] as the Offical Heir of House Beneviento and Future Lord of the Village should anything happen to Donna. Donna made sure Miranda knew about this arrangement when [Y/N] was born but she never took interest in him while he was sick but now that he was better...now that he could move around on his own...
Donna didn't like it.
She saw the way her siblings looked at her son - he was no longer the weakling that couldn't do anything for himself. He was grand. He was powerful. And most importantly, he was hers.
He was her son.
Her pride and joy.
And the fact that other people were taking interest in him now that he was better...it angered the Lady of Beneviento. But Donna was a woman of calming mist, not raging fires - that was Heisenberg's Department; however, she was a mother and she would not let anyone take her son from. She just...had to be careful of what she said and how she did things.
The Mother and Son got their coats - [Y/N] actually wore his grandfather's long trench coat that bore the Beneviento Crest over his chest, it was a perfect fit for the future Lord Beneviento. The two of them walked out of the house with Angie riding on [Y/N]'s shoulder and they headed to Castle Dimitrescu.
[Upon Arrival To Dimitrescu Castle]
"Ah, Donna. I was wondering when you would arrive." Alcina said as she met her 2 new guests at the door. She looked at the tall male beside her sister and smiled. "And this must be Little [Y/N]; he doesn't seem so little to me anymore."
"Greetings, Lady Dimitrescu." He said in a respectful bow but Alcina just laughed and waved her hand in dismissal.
"No need for formalities, my boy; we're family. You can call me 'Aunt Alcina'." She smiled - Donna didn't like that same.
"Um...Okay, Aunt Alcina." He smiled nervously - he never really interacted with the other lords so he wasn't sure what to call them.
"Well, come, My Little Nephew!" Alcina placed her hand on his shoulder and led him away from Donna, "Your Cousins, Uncles, and Grandmother are waiting to get to know you." Alcina said - leaving Donna there...NOT!
Donna marched over to her son and grabbed his hand and pulled him away from Alcina, who looked at her with confused eyes.
"He is my son, Alcina; I can bring him to the dining hall myself." Donna said as she pulled her son along to the dining hall where the other Lords, Alcina's Daughters, and Mother Miranda were waiting for them.
[Y/N] and Donna walked over to their chairs but the son pulled out his mother's chair before he pushed her in and took a seat himself.
"A Gentleman. We don't see much of that anymore." Alcina said as she took her seat.
"I raised my son well, Alcina." Donna said.
"And I'm grateful for having her as my mother." [Y/N] smiled at his mother.
The maids came out with dinner and everyone ate in silence.
[After Dinner]
"Now, unto the matter we are here for." Miranda said as she wiped her mouth of wine. "Donna, why haven't you given any reports on how the Cadou has affected [Y/N]?" She asked.
"What would be the need to do that, Mother Miranda? [Y/N] isn't an experiment, he's my son." Donna said.
"While that may be the case - anything relating to the Cadou must be run by me." Miranda said as she looked at her daughter who just stared at her.
"Mother, I gave you the information of the Cadou I used in [Y/N] but that wasn't the thing that healed him - it was medicine from a recipe I happened to come across." Donna said.
"It doesn't matter if the medicine made him better - I want to know how the Cadou affected him but you didn't tell me in your notes." Miranda said.
"It shouldn't matter since my son is not an experiment, Mother. I don't feel comfortable talking this, Mother." Donna said as she rose from her seat and her son followed her as she left the castle with her son in tow. There were many displeased faces at the dinner table.
[A Few Days Later]
The phone rang and [Y/N] roses from his seat where he was with his mother and answered the phone.
"Beneviento Residence." He said.
"Aunt Alcina?" He questioned; that made Donna look up from her tea and look at her son - why was Alcina calling them?
"No, I don't have anything to do at the moment; I was drinking tea with mother." He said.
"You want me to come over to tea? I'll ask mother to see..." He stopped for a moment, "You want me to come alone?"
'What?!' Donna questioned in her mind.
"Um...Okay. I'll be there in a moment." He hung up the phone after a moment and looked at his mother, "Um...Aunt Alcina invited me for tea with her and her daughters. I'll be back in an hour, Mom." He said as he walked out the door after putting on his coat.
"What was that about?" Angie asked as she jumped on the table.
"Alcina invited him for tea." Donna said with displeasure on her face.
"Don't worry, Donna; he can take care of himself." Angie said.
"I know he can...it's just...I'm used to him not being home; he's been here for years and now that he's better and moving around...I just have this strange feeling that someone might try something." Donna said as she looked at her tea.
[Timeskip]
The next few weeks weren't any better - every one of the lords called Beneviento Manor for [Y/N] asking him to spend time with them or spending nights at their places. Alcina had Heisenberg even set up rooms at their places for him when he came over. Whenever there was a lord meeting, the other lords would ask Mother Miranda if [Y/N] could attend but Donna would say no - her son would be at home doing what he wanted without the lords bothering him.
"We don't bother him, he loves hanging out with us; more than you, Donna." Karl would say.
Today - it was a Lord Meeting and Donna was ordered to come. [Y/N] said he was going to rearrange and plant some new flowers in the garden - the flower girl gave him some new seeds and a discount, Donna was sure she was flirting with her son.
Donna arrived at the meeting and took her seat and it was...quiet.
Karl and Alcina would usually argue about something but they were quiet at the moment. Everyone waited for Mother Miranda to speak.
"Now - the purpose of this meeting isn't about the village or even the ceremony." She started.
"Then what is it about?" Donna asked.
"It's about [Y/N], Donna Dear." Alcina said with a smile across her red-painted lips.
"What about him?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Listen, we get he's your kid and all but he needs something more so we think it's best if he came to live with one of us for now on." Karl said.
Donna...was...pissed.
"What did you just say?" Donna hissed.
"Listen, Donna - you did a perfect job raising him but I think it would be best if [Y/N] came to live with me at the castle. The girls love him and see him as a brother; they are always wanting him to move over and him living there would be better for him and my girls." Alcina said.
"Like hell you'll get him, Lady Super-Sized Bitch. The kid is a boy and we men need to stick together. He's a fast learner and I need that in my factory. I'll be a better father for him." Karl said.
"NEITHER ONE OF YOU ARE GETTING HIM!" Donna yelled as she rose from her seat with a glare.
"Donna, calm yourself." Mother Miranda tried to say but was cut off.
"NO! YOU DON'T SAY ANYTHING, MOTHER!" She looked at her Sister and Brother, "LET ME TELL YOU TWO SOMETHING: HE IS MY SON! YOU HEAR ME?! MINE! I RAISED HIM! I WAS THERE FOR HIM WHILE HE WAS FIGHTING FOR HIS LIFE! ALCINA, YOU WILL NEVER BE HIS MOTHER AND HE WILL NEVER BE THE GIRLS' BROTHER! KARL, YOU WILL NEVER BE HIS FATHER; HE HAD A FATHER AND HIS FATHER DIED! I DON'T GIVE A DAMN HOW MUCH YOU THINK HE SHOULD BE WITH YOU; IT'S NEVER GONNA HAPPEN! HE'S MY SON AND YOU ALL CAN FUCK OFF!" Donna roared.
Everyone was silent.
You could hear a cotton ball drop.
Donna rose from her chair and walked out the door and went back home to her son.
HER SON.
She was quiet about her son visiting them but the moment they fixed their lips about taking him away from her...they are on Donna Beneviento's Shit List.
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A True Love III
Gif credit @angelreyesgirl.
Taglist @nocturnalherb16 @jesseswartzwelder @leaalfred. @creepers-baby-girl @mayans-mc. @baylishh. @writerwithasoul. @twistnet
@glimmerglittergirl. @ilovetaquitosmmmm @lovebennycolonmiguelgalindo. @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @withmyteeth. @miss-nori85. @spnaquakindgdom @mrsmarvelous1995. @believinghurts
Miguel was furious when you didnt come back with his man. He excused himself and marched down the hall straight into the ladies room without knocking.
"Where the hell is she"? Miguel balled up his fist. Nestor, his second in command came in behind him.
"Not sure. Found this in the grass behind the kitchen". Nestor handed Miguel your wedding ring that you threw in the grass.
"I want her found. Hunt that little bitch down. Kill who ever she's with. But bring her to me". Miguel growled, clenching the ring in his hand.
Thank goodness there wasn't any cameras in the back. They wouldn't have to work as hard as Miguel did.
He stayed up all hours drinking and pacing the house. Smelling your robe. He was losing it. Every time Nestor came back empty handed, Miguel would flip on anyone in the room. The house was destroyed. From his fits.
"How hard is it to find a girl? A beautiful goddess. She has to be here. Find her". Miguel ordered, his moods changed in a heart beat.
"Mikey, what if she didnt run away"? Nestor suggested.
"What do you mean"? Miguel thought about it. Nestor was hinting at maybe you were taken.
"What if she was kidnapped and she tossed her wedding ring as a sign".
"Who would do that? Everyone knows who I am and what I'm capable of. They wouldnt touch her".
"We have lots of enemies. Anyone could have".
"But why would she just tell my man to go away"?
"They could have held a gun to her head or threatened to kill you. Y/N, loves you". Nestor spoke softly to his friend. But boy was he dead wrong about everything.
Meanwhile Angel pulled up to the clubhouse. You jumped off and ran inside. Your hand clamped over your mouth as you saw your mother, little sister and grandfather sitting with the members of the club.
"Mamá! Abuelito!". You cried out, getting their attention. You havent seen them in years. After getting married to Miguel he wouldn't let you see them. All these emotions where hitting full force.
Your mother cried as she hugged you. Her oldest daughter finally coming home. Your grandfather kissed the top of your head. And your little sister gave you a thumbs up and a smile, she was talking to Ez.
"Donde esta papi"? You asked looking around for your father. Your mother looked down at her feet. Your grandfather spat.
"He didnt come, Mi Amor. He felt ashamed. He thought he was doing you good. But now he sees he only brought heartache to this family".
"He stayed? What if Miguel goes there to see if I'm there or if they're there? He'll kill him, if he lies". You panicked turning to Angel.
"We tried to get him to come. He wouldnt. I'm sorry". Angel grabbed your hand.
"Oh God. This is my fault. I need to go back". You went to push past Angel but he grabbed you by your waist.
"Let me go, Angel. I'm not letting my father die because of me". You yelled, wiggling around to get out of his grip.
"I'm not letting you go back. Your father made his choice. You cant do anything about it".
You sobbed into Angel's arms as he held you. "I love him. I can't let him die".
"I'll send a few guys to go see if he'll change his mind but you have got to calm down". Angel suggested.
"Okay. I'm calm. Thank you". You wiped away your tears and walked with your mother to the couch. There was a lot of catching up to do. First thing she wanted to know was who was Angel to you? Oh you hated to tell her. But she'll live.
However Miguel felt like his heart was breaking in pieces. You were gone less than five hours and he has basically everyone there except for the news crew.
"What has happened to my wife"? He sobbed, putting on a show for the police. Miguel wanted to keep the disappearance on the low but some of the partygoers heard and called the police. So he had to put on a show while Nestor did the dirty work of finding you.
"Psst". Nestor motioned to get Miguel's attention after he talked to the police.
"What did you find"?
"There was a witness".
"Well what did they see"? Miguel was getting excited.
"A motorcycle. They didnt see the guy or Y/N. Just a motorcycle".
"That could be anyone. He could have been coming to work for all we know". Miguel scoffed.
"Who knows about motorcycles more than us"?
"Scum bag Mayans. Get them on the phone. They own me a favor. Time to collect". Miguel smirked. If he couldnt find you, a bunch of lowlifes can.
"So he's your boyfriend"? The look on your mothers face said confused. You told her everything about Angel and how he rescued you. Just left out all the sex parts and sneaking around.
"Yeah. I love him".
"Loves a strong word, Lirio de tigre". You smiled at your nickname that shes called you since you were born.
"I mean it. It's not like with Miguel. I was forced to say it with him. Not with Angel, I feel it. Deep down inside with all my heart and soul".
She smiled. "I'm happy for you. I want you to be happy and find true love".
"Angels the one for me". You squeezed her hands as she held yours.
"Guys we have a problem". Bishop the presidente came in the room. He had his cellphone in hand and looked directly at Angel than to you.
"What is it"? You cautiously asked.
"Galindo. He wants his favor".
"And what's that"? Angel gulped, walking over to the couch and sitting on the arm of it. His hand on your back.
"He wants us to find his missing bride. The first place to look is at her family's home".
"Just say we went and she wasn't there".
"He wants us to bring her family back, dead. To make sure she cant go there, if she is running away. Oceteva is calling back with directions. We got maybe ten minutes to figure something out".
Angel's, your moms and your heart sank. You never thought he would kill your family. You never thought of running away either.
"I'm going back. I have too. Just say you found me on the side of the road and I can come up with some story". You got off the couch and went up to Bishop.
"I didnt mean to bring this to your club. I'm sorry. I dont want anyone getting hurt or killed".
"Another thing. They think someone with a motorcycle kidnapped you or you took off with someone with a motorcycle. We're the only ones that ride except for the SONS but Galindo knows they havent been here".
"So he knows it's one of us. He's just trying to weed us out so he can come in and find her here. That's his plan. Have us looking all over and he comes here. Finds her, kills us all". Angel ran his hand through his hair with a huff.
"I'm going back. There will be no killing". You yelled, over everyone's thoughts.
"What if Angel takes Y/N and her family out of town and stays away"? Bishop suggested.
"You're kicking me out"? Angel jumped up.
"No. You could always start a new charter somewhere. Be presidente. Or you could have a life without the club. Your choice. Better make it quick cause times a ticking". Bishop pointed to his phone.
Angel thought about everything. Leaving his brothers and home forever. Never seeing them again. Cause he couldnt step back here with you because he knew Miguel would still be looking for you. Or he could stay and fight. Maybe lose a brother or two in the process. Maybe his own life. But it would be worth fighting for since he had you.
He could become a family man and settle down. Have a couple of kids and enjoy the normal life. But that really wasn't Angel. He was a fighter. Always has been.
He's made up his mind just in time.
"I'm staying. We'll fight". Angel grabbed your hand and squeezed it. You knew what everyone was sacrificing for your love.
"You sure? You can just leave".
"No. I'm no coward. Answer the phone". Angel gulped, squeezing your hand. His heartbeat was pounding, he thought you noticed when you looked up at him. A scared look on your face.
Bishop picked it up and answered. Nestor gave him directions and who to take out. Bishop ended the phone call.
"We have our orders. But we need a plan".
"They could stay with pop. Galindo doesnt go around there". Ez suggested.
"They could. But what about the bodies"?
"Bodies are easy to come by". Coco chuckled, lighting up a cigarette.
"We have a slight problem on the plan"? Bishop interrupted.
Everyone looked at Bishop, there happiness slowly disappearing.
"He wants the kid sister, alive. Proof of the bodies and he thinks that if he has her. Y/N would come back".
"No. That wont work". You shook your head.
"How long has it been since you've seen your family"?
"Since I've been married. But I dont know if Miguel has seen them or not. Why"?
"She grew up. Changed. We find a girl that is willing and we send her in instead".
"No. I couldn't do that to some poor girl".
"Y/N, this is all we have. We have to do this". Angel looked you in the eye.
"I didn't want anyone to die". Your eyes filled up with tears and your lip quivered.
"We'll find dead bodies. No ones going to die. I promise". Angel kissed your forehead.
"Okay. If you think this will work. Try it". You didn't seem so sure this was going to work. Miguel was a smart man. He would find out sooner or later the truth.
#angel reyes#angel reyes fic#angel reyes smut#angel reyes fanfiction#angel reyes x reader#angel reyes imagine#angel reyes x reader x miguel galindo#miguel galindo fanfic#miguel galindo imagine#miguel galindo#happys-crazy-queen22#mayans mc imagine#mayans fanfic#mayans x reader#mayans imagine#mayans fanfiction
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Wait actually I have many thoughts on Sebastian Moran and nothing is stopping me from dumping them here!!! Wow!! I'm gonna. Do that.
Fair warning this is gonna be a mess and I don't expect this to blow up sjdjrkdkf it's mostly just me projecting, also it’s not going to be entirely historically accurate </3 sorry history nerds
Anyway here’s why Sebastian Moran is Spanish, actually
Warnings: Mentions of death (Not major), Mentions of an affair, Mentions of pregnancy, Like one or 2 curse words
Sebastian,,,, my beloved.... where do I start
I totally haven’t made up a family tree for him,,, totally haven’t ahhah
Okay I wholeheartedly believe that Sebastian’s last name was changed from Morán (a Spanish surname) to Moran (a modern Irish surname) because of 1800s reasons (*cough* racism *cough*)
So anyway *pulls out a map of Spain* I’m gonna start with his maternal grandfather and go down from there
Grandpa was a merchant/pirate from [nowadays] Santander, he was born to a middle-class family so he ended up working at Port San Sebastian, which is where he learned to sail and haggle
Grandma was born in the Caribbean and moved to South America when she was a young girl
Grandpa and Grandma Morán met while he was selling something and he took one look at her and went “I’m gonna wife her.” and he did!
I say Grandpa Morán was a pirate because when Ms Morán (Sebastian’s mom) was a teenager, he started pirating other merchant ships... which ended up with him dying in his 30s, but he left a will for his family, which sent his daughter to a school in North America
Grandma Morán was a feisty little lady who taught her daughter to do no harm and take no shit, since they travelled a lot, this was definitely a skill she’d need
Ms Morán eventually grew up to be a teacher, spending most of her time going between Europe and South America
She was on a trip to London, where she met Sebastian’s father, a married nobleman, and they were both very attracted to each other, so he had an affair with Ms Morán (she didn’t know he was married 😔)
Oh no! She’s porgentano (pregnant)! But she’s already left London :/
So she has Sebastian and names him after San Sebastian, the place her father used to work
She raises Sebastian for about two and a half years, eventually returning to London and finding his father, who was very surprised to see the woman he had an affair with show up at his door with a child that looks suspiciously like him
She proceeds to ask him to take in Sebastian, to give him a better life, which he begrudgingly obeys under the guise of adopting an orphan for charity (like how the Moriartys adopted ‘Liam and Louis)
Sebastian is white passing even though he’s slightly tanner than the rest of the main cast, for example, so his father simply changes Seb’s last name to Moran so he doesn’t get hate crimed <3
Sebastian ends up living his life relatively well, he’s treated like he was born into the family, he doesn’t get along too well with his father because he has this feeling that he’s hiding something... but he can’t quite place a finger on it
He has vague memories of a woman from his very early years, but he doesn’t question it, he knows he was adopted but he was told he was rescued from two commoners who almost killed him, and was shut down every time he asked for more
His father was pretty aloof with him, which often led to arguments as Sebastian got older
During an argument, his father accidentally lets it slip that he knew Sebastian’s birth mother... intimately... which leads Sebastian to connect the dots...
Sebastian: “😀 huh 😀”
His father then explains that he made “poor choices” when he was younger and Sebastian’s like “what do you mean ‘poor choices’ bitch”
His dad lets him know the little he knew about his mother, how she had hair as dark as night, how she spoke with the most wonderful Spanish accent, how she was too smart for her own good, and whatever else he could remember about the short time they spent together
Obviously, Sebastian has a lot of thinking material after that, and he’s very curious about his mother and wants to learn more about her, but he doesn’t even know what flavor of Spanish she is 😔
He ends up joining the military for 3 reasons, 1) To get out of the house; 2) To get away from his father; 3) Hope that he gets assigned somewhere and miraculously finds his birth mother
Taglist: @lirinstaalem
#sebastian moran#colonel sebastian moran#yuukoku no moriarty#yuukoku no moriarty imagines#moriarty the patriot#moriarty the patriot imagines#mtp#ykn#sebastian moran headcanons#sebastian moran hcs#yuukoku no moriarty hcs#moriarty the patriot hcs#so anyway ty lifey for letting me infodump <33 i care u
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florence pugh, bisexual, non binary, they/them― hey look, it’s viktoria pierson! they’re twenty four years old, they’ve lived in shrike heights for twenty four years, and they’re currently working at julio’s bar. i heard they’re pretty irrational, but i think they’re so passionate at the same time. can they make it out alive? ||
muse board
hello hellllo, i’m grey... i was in this group a couple months ago but fell off bc i’m trash... nonetheless i’m excited to be back with a fresh face
this is a fairly new muse of mine so don’t mind this choppy intro..tap the heart to plot?
Age: twenty four
Birthday: october 18th
Zodiac sign: libra
Sexual Orientation: bisexual
Relationship Status: single
Occupation: bartender @ julio’s
Positive Traits: romantic, easy going, coordinated, patient
Negative Traits: strong willed, particular, arrogant, pessimistic
Aesthetics: an old record player with a scratched up vinyl featuring stevie nicks, the subtle scent of roses, patchwork tattoos etched into gentle skin, a voice akin to a warm fire
born and raised in shrike to amelia and tucker pierson with an older brother three years their senior
viktoria’s father was a bit of a mess, the man was incredibly psychologically and emotionally abusive towards their mother and they could only assume worse though they had never been privy to that knowledge
their upbringing is a bit of a blur, them and their brother were moved back and forth between their home and their aunt’s apartment or their grandfather’s when things got bad
they had been a bit naive about the situation though her mother’s excuses hadn’t helped and they thought it was normal that parents fought as much as hers had
viktoria’s mother went missing around their 14th birthday, their father had told them that she left them, that it had been their fault that vik and their brother had been bounced between the extended families care
they hadn’t known any better but they didn’t particularly believe him, they had to play dumb though for fear they’d meet the same fate
tucker left two years later without anything more than a note saying ‘went off to find salvation’
this left themself and their brother in care of their mother’s sister, a woman who hadn’t planned on having kids but accepted her niece and nephew with open arms
viktoria is incredible reserved, relationships are hard for them both platonic and romantic as they have trivial trust issues
they’ve been searching for their mother ever since her disappearance and has decided to stay in shrike, working at julio’s to keep up with their bills
they never went off to college, they simply couldn’t afford it and seems to of accepted their fate to live and die in the small town
fun facts:
viktoria has several tattoos strewn across their body but most notably; a ghost holding a pumpkin on their bicep, a triangle on the back of their neck, a lightning bolt on their wrist and several flowers cascading down their arm
they’re 5′4″ but have the energy of 6′0″
incredibly comfortable with their sexuality and incredibly flirtatious in nature but when it comes to relationships they’re a little bitch
sarcasm is their coping mechanism
dark humor is also a classic when it comes to their choice of jokes
halloween and friday the 13th are tied for their favorite movie
loves to cook, will make you anything. one of their love languages
connections:
my motto is thriving off chemistry but here’s a few loose connections to get the ball rollin’
regulars at the bar
exes(m/f/nb)
unrequited on either side
natural born enemy
old family friend
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The Oath - 11
Parings: Dark!Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader
Story Master List
Summary: After an unsuccessful escape attempt, the reader finds herself taken as a spoil of war. She ends up in the bed of a ruthless Alpha, the son of John Winchester, leader of the kingdom of Gilead. She struggles to conceal her true identity and navigate a society where being an Omega means nothing more than serving at the pleasure of powerful men.
Warnings: non-con, sexual assault, rape, attempted suicide, sexual slavery, branding, torture, ownership, voyeurism, anal play, smut, violence, and murder.
Sam is dark in this story. If any of the warnings are triggers for you, I would suggest skipping this one. Please read and heed all the warnings.
Beta: ilikaicalie
Support my Patreon and get access to exclusive stories. CLICK HERE
-
“What are you doing?”
You freeze in place with the blade to your throat, turning to find Sam staring in simmering anger. After his initial shock, he closes in on you, grabbing the knife and twisting it from your hands.
“You were going to slit your own throat?” He’s fuming, fury seeping from his pores as his nostrils flare. When you don’t respond, his face sets, jaw locking. “Answer me now!”
“Yes,” you admit, tears falling as you begin to sob. “Let me, please, give the knife back to me. I beg you. Let me leave this world!”
“What’s wrong with you!” he yells again, stepping back. His hands clench into fists at his sides. For a moment you’re sure he’s going to hit you, but instead, he runs a hand over his face and turns away toward the fire. He’s fighting to regain control of himself. Sam takes a moment, his back rising and falling with the intensity of his breath. Turning back to you he places a hand on each of your shoulders, moving backward, forcing you to sit in the chair as you cry harder, shoulders jerking while you sputter and choke. “Stop crying,” he barks.
You both know it’s a ridiculous command. You’re in no state of mind to follow orders or control these sorts of emotions. Your hands shake at the thought of the repercussions for further disobedience as you look up at him with wide, wet eyes. “I-I c-can’t.”
With hands on his hips, he waits, watches you heave and cough and then slowly collect yourself. It takes a while but you do find a way to calm down. You wipe your cheeks with the sleeves of your dress.
Sam crosses his arms over his chest, waiting until you’re staring at the floor, seemingly matched in a silent standoff.
“Tell me why you had a knife at your throat.”
“I told you. I want to die,” you whisper, unable to look at him. Your voice shakes, tremors of fear shooting from head to toe. “Please don’t be mad at me. I tried to stop crying, I couldn’t-”
“I don’t care about that.” He crouches down, placing a hand on your thigh. You nearly jump out of your skin. “Why do you want to die?”
You sniffle, wringing your hands together in fear and anxiety. “I’m afraid to tell you.”
“You don’t have a choice. Tell me.” Sam’s Alpha leaves no option to remain silent.
“What sort of life will I have?” Your eyes flutter up, sneaking a glance. “Before all this, my life was nothing special but I was a person. A human being. I was allowed thoughts and emotions and opinions. Here I am nothing more than what’s between my legs.”
“You would rather take your life than be an Omega?” His eyebrows shoot up as if he’s realizing for the first time just how desperate you truly are. “You’d rather end your life than lie in my bed?”
“It is what comes after you that I’m more frightened of,” you admit.
His head tilts to the side, interest piqued. “What comes after me?”
“Other men, other Alphas. Your brother told me about the plans. When you’re done with me Dean will take his turn and then I’ll become a prize for the Alphas, likely at your father’s discretion. I would rather die than subject myself to that.”
Sam is quiet, sighing deeply and getting up to take a seat in the chair across the table from you. He thinks for a spell, studying his palms before responding.
“My brother told you these things?”
“Yes. And I know what happens with the other Omegas. What their lives are like. Tilda has soured, I can hardly stand the smell of her, she’s rancid. When we’re mistreated we...rot. I don’t think I would survive it. I wouldn’t want to.”
“I see.” He pours himself wine, before sitting back to watch the fire. “And what if there was no after me?”
“What do you mean?” you ask.
“My brother spoke out of turn. I know I’ve made a comment when I wanted to keep you in line, but the truth is I have no plans to give you to anyone else. You’re mine and I intend to keep you.”
Barely able to wrap your mind around this new revelation, you stare at him. Sam Winchester, a sworn enemy of your family, a man who vowed to slaughter every member of your family, wants you for himself.
“You want me?” you ask again. Perhaps you’re delusional.
“I do,” he explains calmly. “You’re a perfect Omega. Your scent, your body. You obey orders, keep your mouth shut. No one else will have you as long as I'm alive. If you are loyal to me then I will return that loyalty.”
“Will you claim me?”
“One day,” he nods in confirmation. “I’ll marry when my parents find a suitable match. Once that happens, I’ll claim you. It’s part of the Gilead wedding ceremony. No Beta will be able to do what you can. You’ll take my knot, give me children. It will be the best life of any Omega in Gilead. It might not be your old life of milking cows and making bread that you seem to miss so much, but you’ll have a place. Your rightful place. I’ll let you decide what you want.” He gets up, laying the knife on the table in front of you. “Slit your throat, or take your clothes off and come to bed.”
And with that, he strips down and readies himself for the night. You listen while he washes himself, the water in the basin sloshing over the sides. You could do it, end it all right here and now. But that would mean giving up on hope, the hope Sam has just offered. Life could be bearable and perhaps someday down the road you might be presented with a chance to escape. To find your way back to freedom.
And then there’s Sam, as much as you hate to admit it you've grown accustomed to him. His scent, the feel of his hands, the heat of his skin rubbing against yours. While given the option to go back home or stay, you would certainly choose your home. But right now he’s your best option.
The decision is seemingly already made.
Pulling your dress off over your head, you walk naked to his bed. Sam is on his side, watching you in curiosity as he pulls back the blankets to allow you to slide in beside him.
“Let me see your neck.” He props himself up, finger trailing over the thin line left by the blade. It broke the skin but barely. It’s little more than a cat scratch. “You could have done irreparable damage.”
His finger carefully moves over the clammy skin, pressing down gently around the edge of the mark.
“Does it hurt?”
“No,” you whisper in the fading light. Your body takes over, excitement fluttering fast as his skin brushes over yours.
“Take care it doesn’t get infected.”
“I will,” you confirm, gazing up at him. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
From time to time you forget who he is and where you are. Tonight for instance, you nearly reach up to caress his jaw. It would be such a comfort to be able to give and receive easy touches, gentler affection than he seems capable of.
“You’re no good to me broken,” he grunts. His fingers splay out, wrapping around your neck but not squeezing. “If I catch you trying to hurt yourself again, you’ll be punished. It will be painful, do you understand?”
“Yes,” you confirm.
“I’m glad we’re clear.” His eyes dart to your breasts before relinquishing his hold and rolling onto his back. He yanks the blanket away from his cock. He’s hard, standing at attention as he strokes himself. “Come here and sit on my cock.”
You do as you’re told. The night's events have drained you of every last vestige of energy. But it’s important, now more than ever, to ensure he’s happy with you. If taking his knot once a night is the price of your life, it’s one you can pay.
Climbing on top you stroke his cock a few times before guiding the leaking head of his manhood into your cunt. You sink down slowly, letting your body stretch for him. Sam’s eyes flutter, big hands and strong fingers curling into your hips. You try to ride him but he holds you down.
“Stay like this,” he instructs and brings his thumbs to your clit.
“Alpha,” you breathe, eyes closing as you concentrate on his touch.
For what seems like a lifetime you sit straddling him as he rubs you soft and slow, building pleasure from a quivering foundation into bursting sparks that threaten to take you over the edge.
He’s quiet, watching and touching, grunting softly at each moan and whimper that falls from your lips. Just when you're getting close to your peak, his hand falls away and you feel him shift, sitting up with you still his lap.
You open your eyes to find his face unnervingly close, his breath warm on your cheek as he reaches around to hold your backside.
“My great-grandfather married an Omega, back when it was still acceptable. She died before I was born but he talked about her all the time. He told Dean and I how special she was. That there was no one that could compare to her in any way. I remember him explaining the bond between them, he had to make sure she was satisfied, that they were connected in order for her to flourish. She didn’t belong to him as much as she was an extension of him.”
You look at each other and he carefully lifts you up only a few inches before letting you slide back down his length. You draw in a breath and his hand curls back around your throat.
“I’ve never met an Omega like you, little bird. Most are nothing more than bitches in heat. But I could see from the moment my brother dragged you into the tent that you were different. I can’t have you souring like old Tilda. If we need to bond to keep you healthy, then that’s what we’ll do.”
He lifts you up and down again. You lean forward, pressing your forehead against his cheek while his cock splits you open. He moves faster and you can barely handle the sensation, gripping his shoulders tightly.
“Alpha,” you moan. Your eyes flutter, head lolling back as the pleasure builds. At this moment there is no fear or pain or worry, there's only your body and the Alpha who’s making you feel this way.
“I’ll ever be able to give you the kind of bond you desire. I’m missing that piece of myself. But we can have this...physical closeness. It should be enough.”
Your body hums with pleasure as you look into his eyes. What sort of man walks around without a soul? Is it possible to have any sort of moral compass when he’s hollow inside? Will this be enough?
You don’t have the answers to any of these questions.
“Do you like the way this feels?” he asks, scraping his teeth along your throat.
“Yes,” you hiss long and low. Your clit is throbbing, aching as his hand wedges between your bellies, rubbing up and down over the swollen bud.
“Open your eyes and look at me.” Snapping to attention, you find him right there, so close you can feel his breath on your mouth. “Now ride me, up and down, nice and slow.”
You lift yourself up slightly and lower back down feeling the drag of his cock. Breasts crushed against his chest as he holds your hips, keeping you close.
Eyes crinkling around the edge, he breathes in hard through his nose. Two hands slide under your backside again, helping to lift you up and down on his dick.
“Alpha,” you whine loudly. Ultimate pleasure is coming like a rush, you’re teetering on the edge. This is a wholly new experience, wrapping up in his scent and skin and pleasure. For these moments the outside world fades away and you’re safe in the arms of a man who should do nothing but terrify you.
You cum the instant his knot pops. It's the coming together of two bodies in perfect timing. You shudder against him, trembling while your cunt is still squeezing around his cock. One hand holds tight to the back of his neck, the other wrapping around his shoulders, not willing to let go of him or the moment. It’s hard to imagine that amidst all this sorrow and desperation you’re able to feel such intense pleasure.
“Will you hold me for a moment longer?” you ask as your lips brush over his ear.
Sam doesn’t respond, but he also doesn’t let go. He sits with you in his lap until you’re the one to pull back and away. And when you lay down he curls around you from behind. You fall asleep surrounded by a man’s animal heat and the fragile idea that this space is a safe one.
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Daddy Issues (draco malfoy x fem!reader)
*an itsy draco smut to please my dirty soul n get me used to writing on tumblr lol
summary - draco and y/n are at a gala with their parents. they’ve known each other for their entire lives and hate each other with a passion. tonight, they’re going to put that passion to good use...
warnings - implied alcohol, swear words, sex n degradation-y stuff (he calls u a bitch like one time isn’t that fun!)
word count - absolutely no idea but it’s kinda long lol
personal thoughts - trash, throw the whole thing away. also it’s mostly unedited but it’s the middle of the night and i just have to write this because hngngnhngnhnngh draco sexc*
Before she has even set foot in the venue, Y/N wants to leave. Double doors spreading across the front of the building allow people to step inside the too-large hall, laughter horsey and chatter hollow. The urge to hitch up her dress and run helter-skelter back down the winding gravel pathway is so strong it’s palpable to her mother, who keeps a hand clamped on her daughter’s shoulder. Her mother’s hands are clammy and Y/N is glad, because if she is being literally held here against her will, the person forcing her to stay can at least feel worried to go any closer to the mob than this.
“Best behaviour,” her mother reminds her, beginning to march toward the doors with false purpose, “And don’t complain about talking to other people. If someone asks you to dance, dance with them, and if they ask for your phone number, give it to them. You can’t continue to ruin our reputation.”
Y/N doesn’t need to verbalise her irritation; the eye roll so exaggerated she sees stars is a dead giveaway. Her mother tuts and the fingers on her skin practically pierce it.
“Don’t ruin tonight.” She releases Y/N to adjust her suit. She thinks it makes her look progressive, but she’s wrong - it gives her the same energy as Katie Hopkins. The very day her mother put on a suit, she knew she would never do the same thing. She would not Katie-Hopkins herself.
“I won’t,” she replies, but the lie is ignored in favour of greeting Lucius Malfoy, who stands just inside the gargantuan doors. Before Y/N was even born, the two families were close and they still are. She grew up knowing Lucius so - cold and unsettling though his demeanour is - his presence is a welcome familiarity in a sea of unease. Just because she isn’t sweating too, doesn’t mean Y/N isn’t just as nervous as her idiot mother. But she can’t feel completely grateful for his being there - where he is, Draco tends to be. And where Draco is, she wants to burn to the ground.
The glass Y/N presses to her lips is cool, deliciously freezing on her lips and fingers. She appreciates the chill while she drains its contents only the slam it on the bar without a second thought when finished. Per her mother’s words and glares, she has been peer-pressured into dance after dance with strangers at least twice her age and given her numbers to men old enough to be her grandfather all night and now, she thinks she might scream. She’s tired, she’s hot, her feet are blistering and she wants to go home. The bartender refills her glass with a pitying smile which she does not return, just knocks back the amber liquid and groans.
Someone sits on the seat beside her own and she glances at it, for no real reason other than curiosity. The man is slender but toned, which she can tell even through the all-black suit he wears. It’s well-cut and exudes wealth. His hands, veins prominent and enough to make any girl ruin their underwear even without all those rings, throw down a phone and an almost full glass of something red. Y/N is practically drooling, then she sees the face.
Draco.
Ew.
He doesn’t look back at her, pointedly ignoring the glare she is so carelessly aiming at him, just growls the name of a drink and downs it in one gulp. His ashen hair is a mess and his brow is furrowed, eyes staring deep into the empty glass in front of him. His muscles tense and untense in quick succession a few times before they settle with staying tensed; he’s the epitome of “I’m pissed off”. Y/N leans on her forearms, smirking just a little.
“What happened, loverboy?” She asks, faking concern so poorly it’s laughable.
Draco doesn’t laugh.
“Did you realise your dad is hotter than you? Is that it?” She suggests. When Draco’s scowl deepens and he ignores her, her smirk grows. This night has been hellish; if she can at least get a bit of a rise out of this twat she’ll be content.
“‘Nother one,” he demands, glaring daggers at the poor bartender. She refills his glass and he drinks it bitterly. Y/N leans further forward, knowing how little Draco likes having people invading his personal space, most of all her. Now, with barely a metre between them, she can smell the heavy musk of whatever cologne he’s wearing. It smells like sex and deception. It’s nice.
“Aww, someone really is feeling grumpy, huh? But seriously, has it hit you yet how hot your dad is? I mean, I’d fuck him.” Y/N teases delightedly. The only times she can ever remember smiling around Draco were when she was ridiculing him and right now, she is having the time of her life. Draco’s hands are twitching and his lip is curling in disgust.
“My father will hear about this.” He spits, glaring at Y/N for a hard second until she slides her hand over his arm and leans closer. There’s now less than half a metre separating the pair and when Draco shifts in his seat, Y/N can tell the lack of distance clearly doesn’t just affect her. A glance down confirms this.
“I want nothing less. In fact, make sure you bring it up as often as you can.” She suggests, Draco’s hands almost crushing his glass even more encouragement.
“If you keep talking like this, I’ll make sure you never speak again. Got it?” He finally snaps. Y/N’s face falls, then she matches his scowl. She drinks the remains of her last refill and the pair of them sit in buzzing silence, saying nothing and still so much. It’s not like it’s a secret that he hates her, but that reaction was more than unnecessary. It’s not her fault his dad is more fuckable.
A familiar and unwelcome hand falls onto Y/N’s shoulder, startling her for a moment before she realises who it is, and her mother starts speaking. “Finally, we’ve been looking everywhere for you both. You’re having fun? Yes?”
Her mother is asking out of courtesy and to impress Lucius, who looks utterly unimpressed and unsettlingly effervescent. Although Y/N’s mother spent over a week deciding which hideously updated suit she would wear to attend this gala, Lucius is effortlessly and deliciously upstaging her. The muted grungy tones and styling of Y/N’s mother’s outfit look tacky beside Lucius’. The families may be well acquainted, but only one of the two knows how to really use their money. Her mother seems to be aware of the fact because she is now wearing far less of the gaudy accessories she showed up in. Hate them all she wants, Y/N has to admit that the Malfoys truly have made her night turn from a complete shit show to only a mild inconvenience.
“How are you finding the gala, Y/N? Here only on Celene’s demands I don’t doubt.” Lucius states. He shakes his head at the very thought.
“Not at all, it’s all for a good cause and any excuse to meet new people is a valid one.” She replies, lying out of her ass. The smallest of approving smiles twitches Lucius’ lips and he nods.
“Well, good for you. I had to drag Draco here by his ears.”
Draco looks even more furious at this statement, colour blooming on his pale skin, and he stands up abruptly, practically sending his stool into his father.
“I’m going.”
He starts to storm off and Y/N shields a smile. Pussy.
“Oh no, you aren’t. Have you even asked Y/N if she wants to dance?” Lucius asks. His natural voice is chilly, but Y/N all but freezes over when he addresses Draco. She almost feels bad for him. But then again, he can be even colder to her; let the boy suffer.
“Here, Y/N, Draco,” Y/N’s mother says, yanking Y/N up by her arm, “Go dance together and stop sitting around like lemons.”
Y/N screws up her nose. “Lemons?” She repeats incredulously, ready to argue simply about that word (her night might have been improved a little, but not enough for her to be unwilling to start unnecessary arguments) until she sees her mother’s face, sharp and ready to yell at her even with all the people around. She keeps her mouth closed.
Mood now ruined, when Lucius glares Draco into offering out his hand, Y/N takes it with somehow even less enthusiasm, dragging her feet while they trudge to the dance floor. For all the grandeur and elegance of the clothes on the people around them, every single couple is shameless in their behaviour and it’s sickening to see so many middle-aged men and woman grinding and throwing it back. Bile rises in Y/N’s throat. She swallows it.
She assumes a half-hearted slow-dance position with Draco, her hands hanging off his shoulders and his limp on her waist. Neither one of them could be more clear in their dislike for one another, but Y/N’s weak swaying goes to some more rhythmic moving and mumbling when Crazy Girls by TOOPOOR (an unusual choice for a charity gala hosted for funding rehabilitation centres with mostly 40 years and over attendees) comes on. Draco watches her, still with that scowl on his face.
“Lighten up, Draco,” Y/N sighs, spinning herself around to press herself to him, trying to encourage him to do more, “So what if your dad is a DILF, it’s not that deep.”
That is somehow what makes him interact with her. He grabs her by her hips and holds her against him, gripping her so tightly she wonders if she’ll wake up with bruises. “What the fuck did I say?” He snarls into her ear, breath sending goosebumps all over her body. Her breath hitches, catching for a moment in her throat before she composes herself. So what if he’s hot, and his hands are somewhere they probably shouldn’t be, and she’s pressed against him, and can feel every inch of him...
She’s sure there was a point to that train of thought.
“No idea,” she lies, breathing out heavily. The song has changed to something slower and heavier and his hips guide hers. His movements are skilled, deliberate and she’s melting against him without meaning to, “But I’m sure if your dad had said it it would have sounded better.”
The press of his fingers deepen in the flesh of her hips, “Stop talking about my fucking dad or I’ll make you.”
“Oh yeah?” She replies weakly. Normally she would have something to say back, a quip or a cruel comment, but with the feeling of him behind her, the scent of him invading her senses and the low words he whispers to her, she’s putty in his hands.
“Yeah. Wanna keep talking about him, bitch?” His voice softens on the final word. They might dislike each other, but never have they used unkind names. When he says it now, it doesn’t feel unkind.
“He would probably like it if I did.” Y/N murmurs, still trying to get a rise out of Draco. Her attempt is a success; Draco growls and instantly starts dragging her to the back of the room, storming through the throng of densely-packed people like they aren’t even there. Y/N stumbles on the bottom of her dress but Draco just keeps pulling until they get to a bathroom, slamming her against the wall and closing his hand around her throat. He presses enough to make her feel it, but not enough to suffocate her. Her heart is racing and he can tell; he smirks.
“Come on, keep talking.” He prompts, pressing harder on Y/N’s neck.
She shakes her head and his lips meet hers, aggressive and demanding and so damn hot. His lips are soft and drowning her, tongue exploring her mouth without warning and making her moan a little when one of his hands go from her waist to her breast, massaging it and making her arch her back. His hands are magic on her, he knows what he’s doing and he’s doing it well.
Until he steps back.
Lips swollen and skin flushed, Y/N pants. Those few minutes of passion felt like seconds, but she’s so out of breath she may as well have run a marathon. Draco watches her catch her breath, eyes stormy with the promise of more, while he slowly takes off his blazer, then his shirt. Y/N can do nothing but watch, watch dark fabric be stripped back to expose soft, defined skin. His body is even better than she has thought it would be; her breathing grows shallow again and Draco smirks, stepping back toward her.
“You like what you see, huh? You think my dad looks this good?”
“Fuck, stop bringing up your dad.” Y/N breathes before capturing his lips in another violent kiss, running her hands over his skin. It’s as soft as her dress - probably softer - which reminds her that she’s still wearing it. Without detaching her lips from his, she inches the straps down her arms. Like he read her mind, Draco reaches behind her and unzips the back, looking down while he pulls the dress away. It’s cold in the bathroom without it and Y/N shivers. Draco looks back up, at her eyes for the first time she can ever remember. And he kisses her. Sweetly, kindly. It says that he’ll take care of her.
But the kiss was a lie, because he instantly grabs her hair and pulls, biting her exposed throat. His mouth strays lower, then he hooks his fingers around her panties and pulls them down, Y/N shakily undoing his belt and unzipping his trousers. Her whole body is shaking, breathing erratic and make-up probably a wreck, but she feels so good. She wishes she had pissed Draco off this much before.
“Up.” Draco growls and, when Y/N hesitates, picks her up by her thighs, fingers harsh and hard on her. She grips his shoulders and he shakes his hair out of his face before sliding inside her.
Fuck.
He’s so big she has to wonder if it’s even real, but when she looks down and watches him slowly disappear inside of her, she can do nothing but moan and drag her nails down his back. He grunts when he completely fills her, then slowly starts pulling out and pumping back in. Y/N’s whole body hums with the gold that now runs in her veins, honeyed curses falling into Draco’s skin while he digs his fingertips into her, pace getting really quick really fast. He puts his lips to her neck, to where his bites now mark her, and presses open-mouthed kisses to the sore skin in between sentences.
“Fuck, Y/N-”
“You feel so- good-”
“Oh, shit...”
“Look at you take it, you’re- you’re doing so well...”
Sweet phrases said in a growl that just make Y/N work harder to make him feel as good as she does, raking her hands through his hair and hazardously kissing whatever she can while he brutally thrusts into her, mercilessly fast when he realises she’s close to climaxing.
“Come on, Y/N,” he pants, biting her lip, “Wait for me, do it- together.”
She whines, throwing her head back. Draco raggedly chuckles before his face twists, still a vision of incomparable beauty. Y/N buries her face in his neck and he kisses the crown of her head without thought, encouraging her weakly. His thrusts are getting sloppy, uncoordinated; he’s close. She rolls her hips, making him moan, against him - the sooner he cums, the sooner she can.
“Draco, I-”
He wordlessly nods and she screams into his skin, awash with bliss and pleasure as her arousal soaks his cock. He grunts one last time, crushing Y/N’s thighs, and cums inside of her, filling her with his pleasure.
Y/N expects him to get dressed and go, act like what happened didn’t happen and would never be spoken about. But he doesn’t. He sits her on the closed toilet seat and cleans her, kissing where he was especially rough - with his hands or his lips - and smoothing his thumb over the already forming bruises.
“What do I tell my mum?” She whispers, letting him dress her because she knows she won’t be able to stay stood up long enough to do it herself. Draco turns her around and carefully zips the dress back up, slowly as though to savour touching her skin. He places a butterfly kiss at the nape of her neck.
“Just wear turtlenecks. I’ll call you a cab.” He says, buttoning up his shirt again. Y/N nods and he looks at her quickly, noting her sadness. “I’ll be in it too.”
Y/N smiles, avoiding looking at him directly when she does. Even after that, it feels bizarre to genuinely smile at Draco.
But when she turns her gaze back to him, he’s smiling. Properly, kindly smiling.
She smiles back.
#harry potter#draco malfoy#draco x y/n#draco fanfiction#draco fic#reader insert#fanfic#smut#harry potter smut#draco smut
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The Demon’s Bride (4)
Call out to @vitaliciouscreations for their “Drop of Paradise” story. I’m using the same name Tiān but they came up with it (to best of my knowledge). Another fun read. Anyone interested in me putting up a random maribat recomendation in this part?
On to the story
Beginning Previous Next Masterpost
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Chapter 4
After dropping Mari in front of the hotel she was staying at, where the teacher definitely had not noticed she was missing he fumed, Damian returned to the Bat cave. His father, all three of his brothers, his sister, Alfred and the rest of the extended Bat Clan were waiting.
“You never turned your comm back on,” Bruce commented.
“I needed to speak with Mari before talking to you,” Damian said, passing his father and pulling up files on the Bat computer.
“We had noticed. It would have been nice to know you were alright after she took down Jason the way she did.”
“Hence the reason I left my tracker on instead of disabling it. You knew where I was.”
“Who is this mystery girl the boys are talking about?” Barbara, aka Oracle, asked.
Damian ignored the question while he filtered through the files of the Wayne conference attendees for the school group staying at Mari’s hotel and down to the students on the trip. He pulled up the school picture of Mari and the information they had on her.
“She is a friend from my childhood,” he finally said looking at the information. He saw that her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, her parents on file were listed as Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng. So they hadn’t changed it, he thought, disappointed in himself because he never looked.
Damian turned when no one said anything after his declaration. Leaning against the console he waited for their responses.
“Bull shit Demon Spawn. You’ve never mentioned friends other than Jon and the Titans before,” Jason said, “and even then it’s because they are not your friends.”
“I assure you she is,” Damian said.
“Then why is this the first time any of us have ever heard about her?” Dick asked.
“None of you have ever shown a particular interest in my childhood with the League of Assassins before now, so why would I have talked about her to you?” Damian answered with a question of his own.
“Because you bit off our heads every time we asked anything,” Tim argued.
Damian narrowed his eyes, “The last time anyone asked me anything about the League I was 11 years old, had just moved in with a bunch of strangers, and had witnessed my family and my whole life destroyed by a madman. Of course I fucking yelled at you. I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t cry, yell or rage about the unfairness of watching my family, my family,” he emphasized, “die because I was with strangers and emotions make you vulnerable and I could not afford any more vulnerabilities with the unknown situation I was in.”
The entire clan was silent during his tirade, and a bit ashamed at what he was revealing to them years afterwards.
“I’m sorry Damian. We should have realized that and asked you how you were handling the changes at the time,” Bruce was the first to apologize.
“So you weren’t just rabid from Mom’s Tender Loving Care?” Jason asked.
“Master Jason,” Alfred chided while the rest of the clan just gave Jason a Really? look.
“In the 10 years I lived with her I probably spent less than two in her actual company,” Damian said. “I don’t think I would have responded well at the time even if you had realized,” he acknowledged Bruce’s apology.
“Can you tell us about her?” Bruce asked.
“I can but there’s a lot to talk about to really understand everything. I’m meeting her tomorrow for her free day, we can come here for dinner. I can give you some of that background information now and she can answer any of the questions about herself that I can’t answer.”
“Alright. So tell us what we need to know.”
“Might I suggest we move this discussion out of the cave and to the parlor where we might be more comfortable while we talk,” Alfred interrupted.
“That sounds like a good idea Alfred,” Dick said.
**************************
They did as Alfred suggested and moved to the sitting room so they could sit comfortably while talking about Damian’s past. They were all aware that before he came to them at the age of 10 he had lived with his mother and grandfather and with the League of Assassins. He had been volatile and reckless even while he was taking up the mantle of Robin and began following the others into the vigilante lifestyle.
But apparently there was more to his actions as a kid than just being a snobbish brat raised to believe he was better than everyone else.
Damian sipped at his cup of Black tea while settling his mind around what he was going to discuss. He had spent the last 7 years trying not to think of the other half of his biological family and believing the rest were dead so that he hadn’t had any other reason to reflect on his youth in the League. But that had obviously been a mistake. If Mari survived did anyone else? Can I get my family back? He wondered to himself while the rest of the clan settled down with their drinks of choice.
Finally everyone was settled. Bruce was the one to set the ball rolling.
“So what should we know?”
“Before I start about what I know,” Damian began turning to Jason, “I need to know more about what you know of the League, Todd.”
Jason raised an eyebrow and looked at him stonily. If Damian was quiet about the League as a kid (lies, he really wasn’t because he was an Al Ghul dammit) then Todd was a monk who had taken a vow of silence (slightly less a lie, he didn’t talk about it but he did rant about what a bitch Talia was). None of the Bats knew much about his time with the League other than he met Talia before returning to Gotham to seek vengeance on the Joker.
“Like what, Demon Spawn?” Jason asked.
“Well, first, did you have a designation?”
“A what?”
“That’s a no then. Consider yourself lucky, or not, since you were one of mother’s various pet projects then.”
“Damian,” Dick warned as Damian still had a tendency to be very blunt, to the point of being abrasive, when talking about other’s trauma’s.
Damian frowned before nodding in acknowledgement of the warning and in apology for his tone.
“I suppose the first thing you should know is that the League of Assassins is only about two hundred years old, while Tiān the city from which it was established is thousand of years old. Grandfather found it years ago and started to recruit certain prized and influential citizens and families into following him. Eventually the majority of the city were members of his cult and doing his bidding. We can get more into why the League as its own city is important tomorrow.
“Now, since the League is a cult and it was born out of an independent city how has it maintained it’s membership for so long? And I assure you it wasn’t because grandfather shared the secret of the Lazarus Pits with anyone” he asked.
“They recruited new members,” Dick answered with a shrug.
Damian gave him his own Really? look. “Recruits only account for about 25% of the new trainees and they are usually older teens and young adults. The people that are disenfranchised from the society outside of the League. Individuals with knowledge of the world outside shaped by influences from outside and not by Ras Al Ghul,” Damian said. “I was one of 79 children born in my year group. I was not raised by Talia no matter how she spins it. Despite having a personal bodyguard, private tutors and a nursemaid because I was an Al Ghul heir, I was raised with the other children my age in the al’akadimia*.”
“Talia didn’t raise you?” Barbara asked.
“She oversaw my training, instruction and education which seems to be her impression of parenting, but no, she was not involved in the day to day of my life growing up. I got more of that with Father in the first few months than I did from her in the entirety of my time with her,” Damian answered.
The Bats were silent as they digested this new piece of information from their youngest.
“In the cave you mentioned losing your family. It sounded like it happened in Slade’s attack. If not Talia, who were you thinking of? The girl?” Tim asked.
*academy- Arabic via Google translate
_________________
So, this chapter f*cked with my head. I was just writing and playing with the story and had to come up with a reason for Damian being such a little shit as a kid. And I threw in the line about him losing his family and moving in with strangers when I had an oh shit moment of enlightenment.
In the Son of Batman, Damian witnessed his grandfathers death. His mother brought him to strangers and essentially dropped him on their doorstep. Then we get into the fact that most likely he was essentially abused growing up (how else do you get a kid that wont show emotions) but they were still his family and yeah...
I try throwing in a flippant reason but really it kinda sounds like a canon reason too.
I had never thought about why canon Damian was the way he was especially in that first movie and now my head hurts. I’m curious if anyone else has ever given that a thought or if you’re just now having that oh shit reaction?
Taglist: I’m so happy so many are enjoying it. I’m trying to get everyone but if I miss you I’m sorry but it’s not intentional. Also, I appreciate the comments but unless you ask I won’t tag you so if you’ve commented and not been tagged it’s cuz you didn’t ask or because I overlooked it trying to find everyone who’s asking to be tagged. And I’m going to ask that you message me since I’m having trouble finding all the asks in the comments. Thank you.
And thank you all!
@ozmav @multifandomscribette @mochinek0 @inevitableenquere @zebrabaker @poshplumcot @tog84 @luciferge @sonif50 @ravennightingaleandavatempus @northernbluetongue @actual-human-disaster @clumsy-owl-4178 @aarushi-03 @bluerosette23 @g-arya @moonyloonyx @fertileleaf @shreky-boi @thanks-captain-obvious @panda3506 @hinata3487 @thequestionablyhuman @dontgiveaflyinflip @dast218 @chocolatecatstheron @asianfrustration13 @slytherinsheashire @weird-pale-blonde-person @yin-390 @mycupisbroken @vixen-uchiha @kuroko26 @autisticlinx @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mariae2900 @zalladane @hypnosharkrebeldreamer @tbehartoo @novicevoice @violatiger8 @thebookish3lf @fandomkitty8 @redscarlet95 @gingersnapnoir @chewbaccaatemythoughts
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so on Thanksgiving i saw Frozen 2 and it was AMAZING and I've only just now had the time and energy to finish my thoughts on the movie and share it with y'all so here it is. Disclaimer: Sorry for how long it is
!!!!! MAJOR FROZEN 2 SPOILERS AHEAD !!!!!!!!!
first, baby anna and elsa???? I’m dead
thjkhsdhjk the story they came up with is literally how every child played with barbie dolls and doll houses
(children are so dramatic also why did we all have the same childhood)
oooh mystery about the past
their dad is so dramatic now i know where Anna and Elsa get it from
four spirits: Earth Wind Air Water how original
(everything changed when the fire nation attacked)
(okay but while their dad was telling the story about the northedral (???) i was totaling believing this is where Elsa got her powers from)
THEIR DAD WAS SAVED BY THE VOICE
(but Elsa was born with powers so her mom is totally magical)
where the nORTH WIND MEEEEETS THE SEEEAAAAA
i love their mom omg i love this song also
(okay but at this point i was like??? did their mom save their dad)
ELSA IN PURPLE I LOVE HER
Elsa being startled and sticking herself to the railing with ice is comedic gold
ANNA’S HAIR I LOVE IT
why is Olaf’s never-ending existential crisis the most relatable thing in this movie
also i love this song about things never changing
hi the line about a stone wall never falling??? FORESHADOWING
KRISTOFF LOVES HER I LOVE HIM HE IS SO PURE
HE HAS A RING
Elsa singing about being afraid of change but seizing the day?? CHARACTER GROWTH
Arendelle flag will always fly??? FORESHADOWING
family game night??? i fucking love it
Olaf shouldn’t be allowed to play charades that way Anna is right
but Olaf imitating Elsa??? iconic
Elsa playing charades is me playing charades
THE VOICE
TELL ANNA ELSA
oooh Kristof honey don’t,, don’t do it like that,,, honey
if Elsa is comforted by their mom’s scarf where was their mom’s scarf in the first movie??
Anna singing Elsa to sleep????? so pure
THE VOICE (AGAIN!)
INTO THE UNKNOOOOOWWWWWWWN
i love this song
‘Everyone I’ve ever loved is here within these walls’ so she loves Kristof???? good me too
where does Kristof sleep?
THE SPIRITS!!! HER ICE IS SHOWING HER THE SPIRITS RIGHT????
oh its the part with the ice suspended in air from the trailer
EARTH AIR FIRE AND WATER
so um the fire went out and its windy and they’re going to the cliffs???? okay???
ummm Elsa did you awake the spirits on purpose??? did you know what you were doing?? you never said it was an accident????
Elsa you cant go alone you’re team has to go with you or else its not much of a movie now is it Elsa. don’t be selfish share some screen time
i just love their outfits so much i want to be a princess in Norway please and thanks
Olaf and his fun facts are literally me
ELSA’S ICE CASTLE THERE SHE IS i wonder if they ever go there. is it a vacation home
water has memory FORESHADOWING
‘Elsa and Olaf are asleep,,, whatcha wanna do?’ UM WHAT
’Sven, keep us steady’ UMMMMM WHAT
THIS IS A PG MOVIE I WAS VERY UNCOMFORTABLE NEXT TO MY TEN YEAR OLD COUSIN THANKS DISNEY
oh Kristof honey
oh no Anna he didnt mean it like that
Kristof stop just stop
ooooh the voice is back
‘Kristof stop’ ‘Good idea’ I’m dead
i don’t really remember what happens in between them stopping and them finding the mist if anything but THE MIST
oooh they’re locked in. nice
okay so wind. thats fun.
the wind spirit is v smart because she knows which one is Elsa
her name is Gale and i love her
hello water has memory
their father being saved by a young girl??? it’s their mom
okay so the northuldra (i googled it) begin to attack? or advance at least
ARENDELLE GUARDS
okay but lieutenant whats his name can get it
they’re frenemies
Olaf’s recap of the first Frozen is comedic gold i want him and Luis from Ant-Man to get together
i don’t really remember what happens at this part but: Elsa and Anna learn that their mom saved their dad (CALLED IT), their mom is northuldra (KINDA CALLED IT) and everyones been trapped in the mist since their grandfather was killed
(which that story is fishy but i don’t think king Elsa & Anna’s dad would lie so????)
OH WAIT FIRE SPIRIT HAPPENED BEFORE ELSA AND ANNA LEARNED ABOUT THEIR MOM
AND OLAF’S SONG OMG
samantha?
(that part was so simple yet so funny omfg)
olaf: “this will all make sense when i am older” all the adults in the room: :/
also notice how Elsa is mindful enough to keep the fire spirit away from the northuldra’s homes??? like i love her???
I LOVE HIM i think his name is Brunie but i don’t know how the people at the Disney Store came to that conclusion
oh also Kristof and Sven run in to save the reindeer but Anna is only worried about Elsa??? idk maybe she knows Kristof can take care of himself and knows that Kristof knows when it becomes too dangerous but Elsa is going to try to stop the threat until she physically can’t and at that point it may be too late okay i get it
(okay but if they’ve been trapped and nothing can get in or out what do they eat??? like theres a lot more northuldra than arendelle guards so do they have designated areas they’re allowed to go in?? what do they do with the people who died?? probably bury them)
(also some if them are born in there and they’ve been in for decades so a generation maybe the beginning of the next one but how many of them are related????)
Kristof has a new friend and I’m so glad they’re not fighting over Anna
(take that toxic masculinity)
HES GONNA HELP HIM PROPOSE I LOVE IT
Reindeers are better than people (cont’d.)
the following are my favorite parts/lines from Lost In The Woods
that guitar riff (?) at the very beginning? sexy
“you had to go and of course its always fine”
because Kristof loves Anna and knows that Anna loves him and they can do different things and still be in love and he doesn’t have to constantly be over her and controlling what she does
(take that toxic masculinity part TWO)
OKAY BUT Kristof saying its fine while simultaneously worrying that he’s losing Anna is absolutely breaking my heart
NORTH IS SOUTH RIGHT IS LEFT WHEN YOU’RE GONE
Kristof: “and i don’t know what path you are on” me: :((((
I NEVER THOUGHT IT WAS A QUESTION OF WHETHER
WHO AM I???? IF IM NOT YOUR GUUUYYY?????
WHERE AM I???? IF WE’RE NOT TOGETHEEEERRRRRRR??????? FOREEEEVVVVVEEEEEERRRRRR
NOW I KNOW YOU’RE MY TRUE NORTH CAUSE I AM LOST IN THE WOODS
UP IS DOWN DAY IS NIGHT WHEN YOU’RE NOT THERE
YOU’RE MY ONLY LANDMARK SO IM LOST IN THE WOODS
WONDERING IF YOU STILL CARE
BUT ILL WAIT FOR A SIGN
(FOR A SIGN)
(peep the Queen reference)
THAT I’M YOUR PATH CAUSE YOU ARE MIN
UNTIL THEN IM LOST IN THE WOODS
this concludes my favorite parts/lines from Lost In The Woods
every time i type Lost In The Woods I wanna type Lost Into The Woods
okay SO
Olaf doing the siren call with Elsa is comedic gold
THEIR PARENTS SHIP OH MY GOD
peep Olaf with that gruesome “maybe there was nobody on board” when they asked how the ship was able to get through the mist
peep Olaf with the “why didn’t they just make the whole ship waterproof”
THEY WERE GOING TO FIND WHERE THE NORTH WIND MEETS THE SEA THE RIVER FILLED WITH MEMORIES
THEY WERE GOING FOR ELSA
WATER HAS MEMORY BITCH
ELSA BBY ITS NOT YOUR FAULT
LISTEN TO ANNA YOU ARE NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THEIR CHOICES
so they go to the river
(low-key thought that was their goal the whole time but its fine)
ELSA!!! ANNA AND OLAF HAVE TO GO WITH YOU WHAT ARE YOU DOING
if Disney doesn’t make the ice-canoe part of the Frozen Ride in Epcot in some way shape or form i will be deeply disappointed
uh oh rock giants
oh waterfall
cave
thats fun
ah Olaf always the optimist
(but where did Anna get flint?)
Anna’s hair??? i love it
oooh Elsa on the beach
she can’t get her shoes or coat wet i understand
PONYTAIL?????
GO BITCH
YAAASSS QUEEN USE THOSE ICE POWERS
oh shit that water horse is trying to drown her
what the fuck he’s actually trying to drown her
AH SHIT ITS ELSA’S WATER HORSE NOW
YAAASSSS BITCH
sdahjhdskjhdsjk
ITS A GLACIER BECAUSE WHY FUCKING NOT
every inch of me is trembling
SHOOWW YOURSELLLF
ELSA HAS A DUET WIHT HER MOMN
IM FINE
ELSASN IS TBHE FIFHT SPRIT
THE BRIDGE
ELSA’S NEW OUTFIT AND HER HAIR I WANT
WATER HAS MEMORY
Elsa destroyed Han’s memory I’m dead
OH SHIT KING RICHARD (Elsa & Anna’s grandfather, i don’t remember his name)
KING RICHARD IS AFRAID YAASSS QUEEN TELL HIM ELSA
WAIT ELSA
GO TO FAR AND YOULL BE DROWNED
ELSA WAIT
oh shit she jumped
OH SHIT SHES COLD BUT THE COLD NEVER BOTHERED HER ANYWAY
OH SHIT KING RICHARD KILLING THAT GUY FOR NO REASON
OH SHIT ELSA’S FROZEN
BUT SHE SHOT OUT ONE LAST ICE THINGY
we now return to this episode of Olaf and Anna Alone In A Dimly Lit Area With A Little Bit Of Fire
YAASSS ANNA GOT THE MESSAGE
BREAK THE DAMN
but Arendelle
OLAF
why isn’t that when Olaf and Anna are alone one of them is always dying
now i understand the no context memes featuring spider-man from Infinity War
okay so you’re telling me that Anna learned that her sister is frozen (pun intended) and Olaf dies in her arm and she still finds the energy to save Arendelle/the forest???
GO ANNA YOU GO GIRL ITS GONNA BE ALRIGHT
DISNEY CAN’T KILL ELSA AND OLAF THEY’D LOOSE TOO MUCH MONEY
oh shit the rock giants
KRISTOF TO THE RESCUE
AND SVEN OF COURSE
WHAT DO YOU NEED I LOVE HIM
THEY BROKE THE DAMN
OH NO ANNA DONT FALL
ANNA GET OUT OF THERE
LIEUTENANT WHATS HIS NAME AND KRISTOF SAVE ANNA TOGETHERDSKJAD
ELSA AND THE WATER HROSE THEY SAVE ARENDELLE SYDJHASDJKFHSDA
the Arendelle citizens literally are so hilarious to me all they know is: the spirits are mad and all the heirs to their thrones went on a dangerous journey to save their kingdom, with no guards to protect them, then a tidal wave comes rushing towards their homes and suddenly their Queen who has always been quiet, modest, and reserved comes riding in on a fucking water horse in a boss ass outfit with her hair down and saves the kingdom. like???? imagine being on that cliff??? and all they do is clap???? I’m so dead
poor Anna :((( but Kristof is doing his best to comfort him like i love him
ELSA GO TO HER ANNA GO
THEY’RE CRYING CAUSE THEYRE SO HAPPY KJDASDHSJKHFJKSAD
ARENDELLE IS SAVED ANNA ITS OKAY
OLAF IS SAVED ANNA ITS OKAY
KRISTOF PROPOSED IN THE DORKIEST WAY BUT ANNA’S REACTION WAS THE CUTEST I LOVE IT
(WATER HAS MEMORY)
ELSA STAYS AND ANNA IS QUEEN
CUT TO ANNA’S CORONATION AND THE NEW STATUE AND THE ENCHANTED FOREST IS ICE NOW AND ELSA HAS A WATER/ICE HORSE AND GALE HELPS ANNA AND ELSA COMMUNICATE AND THE ROCK GIANTS ARE NICE AND BRUNIE IS STILL THE CUTEST AND ANNA AND ELSA STILL HAVE FAMILY GAME NIGHT
(okay but did anyone else find it odd that Elsa didn’t go to Anna’s coronation)
(also the Northudral are just totally fine with living in ice and snow and cold now too??? idk i guess Elsa asked first but whatever its not like they can say much she’s the fifth spirit so)
Olaf wearing clothes has me dead
Anna: tells Kristof she likes him “better in leather” me: when does he wear… leather :O (Anna’s freaky yo)
final thoughts: Amazing movie, the constant shade of Hans was absolute gold, Kristof is so pure, Anna and Elsa’s relationship is so amazing, everyone’s character growth is absolutely amazing
if you read all of this, bless you child I’m so sorry it was so long
#IM SORRY OKAY#thank you for coming to my ted talk#theres so many other things I've missed but i saw it last week and i just#i cant#frozen 2#frozen 2 spoilers#frozen spoilers
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heyo what’s poppin ! it’s me, hannah ! i’m 20 n vibin in the est. my pronouns r we/them/boys but she/her work as well djskfsmd n i’m currently #unemployed BUT i am a full time student... majoring in dumb bitch theory n loving my gf n i’m at the top of my class baby...... :’) ANYWAY. i’m back again w a ( hopefully ) more condensed version of the infamous google doc(s) STRIKER KIM? MORE LIKE STRIKE ME IN THE HEART I LOVE U BITCH so that u dont all have to read the monstrosity that is my app ( but like, if u wanna... u can find it right HERE )
n without further ado... let’s kick it !
this is striker, he’s 28 ( soon to b 29 #ariesculture ) n he’s very complicated.. very complicated....
his mom cherry kim ( nee corallo ) is the daughter of lorenzo corallo, renowned filmmaker. daphne had a stint in acting in her youth as well but ending up withdrawing from the spotlight once she married his dad.
his dad is warren kim, business man
what kind of business you ask ? well..
let us rewind a little bit, shall we? now if you know anything about the ins and outs of organized crime in new york city, the name corallo might sound *eyes emoji* familiar to you. giovanni corallo was a boss of the lucchese crime family until his arrest and… you guessed it… that means our man lorenzo corallo is a man of the mafia !
lorenzo, however, wasn’t a first-born son which also meant he wasn’t an heir in any way shape or form and was free to do his thing you know BUT when it came time to arrange marriage for his one and only daughter, cherry, it was Expected of him to keep it in the family
enter the kim family, who had been loyal to the lucchese family for as long as they’d been in america and had built up quite a reputation for themselves in the family, so it was just a natural choice to marry off cherry to their son, warren
they had two kids! their first-born son, dagger, and their second-son…. STRIKER !
and, as in all mafia stories, there is no better prize than the benefits reaped from die-hard loyalty, so in addition to getting to marry a corallo girl… a series of unfortunate events ( i.e. some deaths and arrests ) led to the promotion from right-hand man to acting boss of none other than our very own warren kim
now being the child of an acting mob boss is stressful, but being the second-son of an acting mob boss is… slightly less stressful. see, cherry stepping Out of the spotlight was a strategic move on her own part but was entirely her own decision which meant that striker was free to choose the exact opposite
with no real mafia-related responsibilities or expectations ( other than keeping his mouth SHUT ) on his shoulders, he was more or less… free to roam however he wanted and as he’s always had a taste for the finer things in life, there’s no real surprise that he chose to follow his mother’s side of the family and became nothing short of a socialite in new york city
which.. despite what the press says abt our #mans striker kim ( i.e. being a billionaire playboy, irresponsible, reckless, wild, etc. ) he’s smart n his main motivation for heading straight for the spotlight is bc every person who falls in love w him is part of a complex and expansive insurance policy that makes it that much harder for the mafia to make him Disappear, u know ?
this is one of the reasons why striker and dagger never Really not along, though striker’s always had this theory that dagger was built for nothing but the mafia anyway bc he’s straight up one of the meanest, cruelest, most RUTHLESS people that striker has ever met. but, like, with a name like dagger… how could you not be?
things really start getting #Complicated for striker when he’s ABOUT to graduate from college and his dad yeets this mortal coil in a Shocking Tragic Unexpected death ! it doesn’t really affect striker all that much bc striker spent a lot of his life living with his grandfather in the city but… rather when his father dies it’s dagger that ascends into the role of acting boss and BOY OH BOY that’s nothing but trouble for striker
dagger gets striker roped right back into the mafia that he worked his whole life to try n get out of.. just like that. sad.
and because striker is… como se dice…. a stubborn shithead with a penchant for the dramatics, he starts looking for a way to make his brothers life absolute hell because! yes! striker IS the person who fucks with the mafia! what a moron!
for a good few years it was just minor stuff, nothing really consequential, but that gets boring very quickly bc ... u know ... it is what it is
ANYWAY. he really finds his in to what’s going to make dagger kim’s life HELL and that is getting himself involved in a little heist group. there are only so many events that striker can show his face that end with a robbery of some sort before it starts to become suspicious, and it doesn’t take a genius to connect the kim family to the corallo family to the lucchese family. it’s just enough to keep people talking but not enough to actively incriminate himself. and as long as he’s not publicly throwing the lucchese family under the bus, he’s still, by all accounts, insured by the mafia as the son of warren kim.
anyway! enough w the backstory! here’s some fun lil personality n headcanon stuff :’)
first and foremost.. he does have a face tatoo. ( and an eyebrow piercing and yes i have photos of both if u want to see them ) it’s of a crown on his left cheek and he
got it within a week of his father dying and dagger forcing him to come back into
the mafia to Assert His Dominance n show dagger he was still in charge of his own
goddamn decisions so fuck you dagger
dagger punched him in the face for getting the tattoo and he had a black eye for two weeks but you win some you lose some
on the surface? rich kid asshole!!! rich RICH kid asshole!!! you know the kind of guy you take one ( 1 ) look at him and you’re like yeAh u absolutely think that ur better than me ? that’s him
does he rly think he’s better than u? unclear.. depends on who u are... i already have some thots abt who striker wld dislike hmu tho aha x
fluent in english ofc n also korean and italian, his primary language is lit rally a jumble of korean and italian tht nobody can understand but like.. him n dagger n his dad ( rip ) n he also knows a little spanish and japanese.
he’s afraid of horses but will never admit it
he loves to bet!!! he loves it!!! it’s probably from growing up in a family where making bets on things was a major source of income but he will 100000% place bets on anything there is to place bets on and will rope as many people into his betting pools as possible
he hasn’t had his gay awakening yet isn’t that tragic?? turns out the mafia ISN’T a very lgbt friendly place, who would have thought?? so that’s absolutely something that’s going to happen bc we know that i love to make my characters suffer esp when it’s related to their attraction to someone whew…
he’s somehow both the biggest gossip and the most secretive person that you’ll ever meet??? like he’s an instigator n will make offhanded comments abt what he’s observed other ppl doing recently that he thinks are… inch resting… and you’ll have this long ass conversation w him and not realize until like 2 hours later that he didn’t say one ( 1 ) thing abt himself the entire time
you know how finnick from the hunger games used to get paid for things w secrets??? that’s so striker to the core… like you can’t buy him or bribe him bc baby has $$$ and is so disinterested in the glitz and glamor of fast cars and expensive drinks and whatnot, so if you really want him to do something for him… you’re going to have to trade him some secrets… n that’s that on that!
he doesn’t like to take his shirt off around ppl bc #scars ( predominantly the large letter L that’s branded on his chest but there are some others that i haven’t decided on yet ) anyway he does not partake in the pool parties n as explanation has just always told everyone that he doesn’t know how to swim… n he’ll die w that lie, thank u !
very paranoid... has 2 different phones w his contacts n codes.. folds his clothes a certain way so he can know if someone touched his stuff... has a fun in a safe under his bed that he changes the passcode to regularly.... he also has some ocd but a lot of it is #trauma
im sry there r so many points here i .. rly tried to trim them down n there are like 300% more in my app but.. whew... ok
i’m going to stop now but pls.. pls plot w me i beg ok thank u bye
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A Year At The Opera - Excerpt
Chapter 11, Part 2: Svetlana
WC: 2900 words. It’s not perfect but it’s here. I hope you like it :)
*
Svetlana
Going back like four days, back to the first day of school, we’re going to catch up on what’s been happening with her. So, Waverly, Sean and the rest had called her for a thing at the park, right? Well, she went home after school, asked her mom if she could go. Anya said yes but only if Svetlana would help her unpack tomorrow and after that, Svetlana drove out to the park. And that’s where we pick up.
Embrace Park was mostly filled with kids at this point, it being the middle of the afternoon and all, but Svetlana found the group standing by the large tree towards the other end of the park.
“You came!” Waverly said, walking up to Svetlana.
“I said I would.” Svetlana said, lightly hugging her.
“Come on, everyone's waiting.” Waverly grabbed Svetlana's hand dragging her along to the others.
“Hello there.” Sam said, expecting a ‘General Kenobi’ back. His face immediately fell when she didn’t reply back.
“Hey.” Svetlana said. “Alicia isn't here?”
“General Kenobi.” Waverly said to Sam, giving him a quick peck on the nose and making him turn his face to hide the fact that he was blushing.
“No, she and Leo couldn't make it.” Britney chimed in. “She's got a date with her girlfriend who lives over in the next town. Leo never comes out anywhere.”
“Cool.” Svetlana said. “So, like, what do you guys actually do around here?”
“Mostly we just hang out.” Sean said. “Talk about shit like what our days have been like, what's been going on at home or whatever shit we've got going. Think of this as casual group therapy.”
“Isn't group therapy already casual?” She retorted.
Sean chuckled. “Fair enough.”
“So… what do we do now?”
“I guess we talk. Let's get to know each other.” Sean said.
“Sounds good to me.” Svetlana said.
The group spent the next few hours talking and complaining about their life and whatever they had going on. They talked about a lot of things I'm not going to go over because they'd literally take hours so I'm just going to cover the highlights.
First. Britney filled in Svetlana about what happened to Waverly. Turns out, about three years ago, she’d gone on a trip where she’d decided to go swimming in the ocean and almost drowned. Since then, she’d been careful around talk of death and scared to go swimming. It had forced the group to adapt to some colorful expressions to talk about death around Waverly.
After that, the rest of them continued to talk about the mundanities of day to day life. Sam talked about his mom being a bitch, Britney complained about the lack of good looking guys and everyone rolled their eyes, basically telling Svetlana they’d been hearing the same thing for a long while and Waverly complained about her dad not liking Sam. They walked around the park as they talked. And finally, as the sun began to descend, Sean talked about a problem with his mom’s finances.
“She’s just been secretive, you know?” Sean said, “Like she’s trying to keep it from me, like she thinks she can hide it from me.”
“She probably just doesn’t want you to worry.” Sam said.
“Yeah well, it’s not fucking working. I took a peek at the bills yesterday. We might get kicked out, man.”
“You really think they’d evict you?” Waverly asked.
“If we can’t pay the bills, I doubt they have any other choice.”
“What about your dad?” Svetlana asked.
Everyone in the group stared at her awkwardly. Waverly inhaled sharply.
“Well, he left when I was five… so, he’s really not gonna be much help.” Sean said almost cheerily.
Svetlana got quiet. “I’m sorry.” She whispered.
“It’s fine.” Sean said, “It was a long time ago and there was no way you could’ve known.”
“So,” Brtiney stepped in to change the mood. “You’ve heard about our depressing problems, it’s only fair we get to hear yours.”
“Oh I don’t really have problems.” Svetlana brushed it off.
“That literally can’t be true. Everyone has problems.” Sam said.
“No, I swear. Home life is actually pretty good. And so far, so is the rest of everything.”
“You like the town so far?” Sean asked.
“Yep.” Svetlana nodded.
“Okay, so, if you don’t have problems right now, give us your tortured backstory.” Britney placed a firm hand on Svetlana’s shoulder.
“There’s not much to tell.” Svetlana began.
“So, you were born in Russia?” Sam asked inquisitively.
“Not really. Because my grandfather had married an American woman, my parents had come to live with them during the tail end of my birth so I was technically a United States citizen before my parents because I was born here. But, after I was born, my parents left with my grandparents for a year or so before they came back to get me. I spent about six years with them before they also migrated here. But they still have family there so they visit often and I go with them.”
“Cool!” Britney said.
“Not as much as you think.” Svetlana continued. “After we moved here permanently, we lived with my grandparents for a while but they died so we had to move away when I was about ten or eleven. My grandma’s parents really didn’t like us because they’re raging bigtots who think every russian is a communist and didn’t want us staying at the house so we moved to Philly for a bit then my dad got a good job working as a manager and we stayed there for a while and then my dad got a better offer and now we’re here.”
“That’s rough.” Sean said. “But I’m glad it worked itself out.”
“Hey, Sammy, what’s the time?” Britney asked.
“Uh, 6:05.” Sam replied.
“Shit! I have to go or my mom is going to strangle me. Bye!”
“Bye!” Waverly said as Britney ran off into the distance towards her car.
“We should get going too. It’s getting a bit late.” Sam said turning to Waverly.
“Yeah, we’ll see you both tomorrow then.” She gave Sean a cheeky smile, grabbed Sam’s hand and started to walk away.
“So…” Sean hooked his fingers in his pockets as he and Svetlana continued to walk.
“So…” She bit her lip.
Sean stopped and took in a sharp breath. “Hey, I know this is kinda forward but like, do you wanna go on a date with me?” Sean asked.
Svetlana didn’t know how to respond.
Sean must have noticed her distress because he immediately added, “You don’t have to answer immediately, obviously.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I know it’s weird considering we just met today but its just that…” He let out a sigh. “I’d like to take you out on a proper date and give this a shot before we have to file for bankruptcy.” He laughed to himself.
“Sure, why not?” Svetlana said. This could be fun. If nothing else, she could get a tour around town and the proposition of free food was always fun.
“Cool. How’s friday sound?” He smiled. “I could even give you a proper tour of the town, then.”
“It sounds awesome.” Svetlana said. “But I’m paying. For any services rendered.”
“Any services rendered? Whoo, there. That might cost you.” Sean said sarcastically. “But, jokes aside, if you want to, it’s your prerogative.”
“That’s a big word!” She joked. “What, did you pick up a dictionary today?”
“Ouch.” Sean said. “Word of the day app.”
Svetlana smiled, looking away.
“Here, give me your phone.” Sean said taking out his phone and handing it to Svetlana. She gave him hers. They quickly exchanged numbers and wishing her a quick goodbye, Sean walked away with a large smile stuck on his face.
Svetlana checked the time. It was already close to 6:30 and it was starting to get dark. Time to get home.
-
Svetlana reached home a little later. As the car pulled up to the driveway, the tires slowly dragging along the pathway, she spotted the silhouettes of her parents approaching the door from the living room window. Oh no, the curtains are pulled. The curtains were never pulled in the Petrova household. Not unless there was an emergency.
Fuck. She thought as she opened the car door and got out. Quickly locking it, Svetlana hurried to the door.
“Gde ty byla?” The door opened before Svetlana could get her hands on it and the large, imposing, absolute unit of a figure of Anatoly Petrova stood before her.
“It’s only seven, papa.” Svetlana protested.
“Seven in a new city, dochinka!” The slight russian accent in his voice was in a weird middle ground to Svetlana’s non-existent and Anya’s moderately-heavy russian accent. The accent had certainly faded over the years, and his five years of study here had helped as well but you could still here hints of it on occasion when he was angry or stressed. Perhaps it was an internal instinct to stick with what you knew.
“Can I come in? It’s freezing out here.” She rubbed her arms and Anatoly let out a protesting grumble but moved aside to let her in.
“Where were you?” Anatoly asked again.
“I made friends.” She replied, walking into the living room. “They invited me to hang with them at the park.”
“You could’ve called, Sveta!”
She looked over her shoulder just enough to see Anatoly in her periphery as she removed her phone from her low cut jeans and threw it on the couch. “I lost track of time. It won’t happen again.” She stated calmly. Fortunately, Anatoly was prone to freaking out about little things so Svetlana wasn’t worried much.
Anatoly walked in front of her to talk to her but before he could get another word out, Anya’s voice came from behind Svetlana. “We’ve been worried sick!” Anya’s tone was sharp and accusatory.
Svetlana turned to face her. Anatoly rolled his eyes. Anya continued, “Especially after what happened at your father’s job today and right on the first day too. This isn’t a good sign, devushka.”
“Whoa whoa. Stop.” Svetlana’s expression grew serious. “What happened at papa’s job?”
“You didn’t hear?” Anya asked innocently.
“It’s a little accident, don’t worry about it.” Anatoly said. “These things happen.” Unfortunately, Anatoly was also prone to making small things of big issues.
“What happened?” Svetlana asked again.
“A little accident? People are dead, Anatoly.” Anya spat.
“Whoa!” Svetlana stopped Anya. “Can you both just tell me what happened?”
“It is a massive radioaktivnoye leak.” Anya said. “Your father’s been cleaning up the mess all day.”
Svetlana turned to Anatoly. “God, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He reassured her. “I’ve just been trying to contain the situation all day. Thankfully the media haven’t caught wind of it yet.”
“But are you okay?”
“Yes, yes. The leak was taken care of quickly and the radiation was contained quickly. Somehow one of the tanks sprung a leak and flowed out but it didn’t do much damage to any important equipment. Ended up killing eight people though.”
Svetlana had to do a double take to even process how casually Anatoly said that.
“I’m tired. I’m going to bed. Have to get to work early tomorrow.” Anatoly said before turning to Svetlana and letting out a quick yawn. “And if you’re gonna be late, call before.”
“Yeah.” Svetlana nodded.
Anatoly climbed the stairs and made his way to his room.
“Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” Anya placed a warm hand on Svetlana’s back and guided her to the kitchen.
-
The next few days passed in relative silence. With the school closed for a while and not much to do, Svetlana spent the days helping Anya unpack and binging shows and movies and Youtube video essays about those shows and movies. But, time flew by and it was officially friday. The big date was here.
And, right on time, the bike arrived out Svetlana’s house.
“Mama, I’m leaving!” Svetlana shouted grabbed her jacket and reaching for the door.
“Don’t be too late!” Anya shouted back.
“I’ll call if I’m gonna be late.” Svetlana said before exiting the house.
Sean turned the key in the bike and shook his head to straighten his hair that had been tousled up by the wind.
Svetlana quickly jogged up to him.
“Ready?” He asked.
“As I’ll ever be.” She quickly answered.
She was certainly excited to be going on this little date but more than that she was really excited to be on that bike. It looked like a beauty, the sun glimmering off it’s glossy paint. The seat wasn’t too low which was comfortable for Svetlana’s tall 5’7 figure.
“Get on then.” Sean smirked.
“Where are we going?”
“I guess you’ll find out soon enough.” Sean said. “Grab on tight, we’re going fast.”
A smile crept on his face as Svetlana got on and put her hands on his shoulders.
“Here we go.” The bike sped off into the sunset.
-
As the sun flared behind them in the distance, Svetlana and Sean arrived at their destination about ten minutes later.
“So,” Sean said, parking the bike. “Welcome to Chester’s: the supreme hangout spot for literally everyone and the best milkshakes in the state with pancakes to rival Rose’s, over in Tenebris.” His tone resembled an overenthusiastic advertisement.
“Well, I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Svetana said quickly running a hand through her hair to straighten the rebellious blond strands that had flown everywhere as they flew through city traffic at high speed.
“Let’s head in then. You will never have milkshakes like this anywhere.” Sean said, stuffing the keys in his pocket.
“Thats’s going to be a hard challenge, I’ve had milkshakes at Vinny’s.” Vinny’s, as you probably know, is regarded to have some of the best milkshakes in the world.
“Well, I’m sure they can’t compare as far as taste.” Sean walked towards the door and opened it, letting Svetlana go in first.
“Ah, a gentleman, I see.” Svetlana joked.
“Perfect behavior.” Sean replied perfectly seriously, walking in with her.
“How delectable.” Svetlana muttered under her breath.
The sound of the bell above the door subsided as Sean turned to Svetlana. “So, where do you wanna sit?”
“Well, you’re the expert, where’s the best seats in the house?”
“That would be the far left booth but unfortunately, it seems to be taken.” Sean pointed at the booth.
Svetlana saw Mason sitting with Ingram, instantly identified with his fiery red hair, while the ‘Manic Pixies’ as Britney had called them, stood talking to the boys.
“So,” Sean continued, “Best seats in the house are probably going to be the second booth on the right.”
“Lead the way!” Svetlana said.
But even as they walked, Svetlana couldn’t stop thinking about Ingram.
As they slid into the booth, she turned around for a quick glance at him. They were still talking to the girls.
“So, what do you want to eat?” Sean asked.
Svetlana smiled at her and whispered a quick thank you before turning back to Sean. “Well, what milkshake would you say is the best?” She looked over the menu.
“I’m biased but I’d personally take the strawberry. But, you know, chocolate chip is never a bad choice if that’s your thing.”
“Nope. Strawberry sounds good to me.”
“Great! Anything to eat?”
“I’m just gonna have some fries but you can get whatever you want. Or we could get a large fires and split it.”
“Shakes and fries? Sounds godawful.”
“FYI, It’s actually delicious. Chester always puts more salt on mine because he knows I love them and they go amazingly well with the fresh, fruity, sweet milkshakes.”
“Alright, if you say so. But I’m also getting a burger to go with those fries.”
“Cool.” He said. “Hey, Arlene!” He called out and the waitress from before quickly hurried over.
“Yep?” Arlene took out her notepad.
“Alright, so, two strawberry milkshakes, go heavy on the whipped cream, a little extra sweet. A side of large fries, half curly, half plain, extra salt and a burger for the lady right here.”
“Got it.” She quickly rattled off the order back to them to confirm it and then hurried off behind the counter.
“And now we wait.” Sean muttered under his breath.
Svetlana’s eyes drifted off her menu to the Pixies who were starting to walk away.
“Hey,” She asked, “You mind if I go check up on him? I didn’t really get a chance to see how he is.” The words flowed out without a second thought.
“Uh, sure.” Sean said, visibly tensing up. “We have some time to kill before the food comes anyway.”
And Svetlana realized what she’d done.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m stupid. It’s rude.” She quickly said. Ugh, she couldn’t believe she’d been this stupid. God, she couldn’t even imagine how poor Sean felt. He must’ve felt she was ditching him.
“No, I swear, it’s fine. I have to call my mom anyway.” He said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.” He said but he was still tensed up.
“I’ll be right back.” She was already off the seat before beginning that sentence and making her way to Ingram Shaw.
*
#writeblr#writblr#creative writing#original writing#writing#wip#AYATO#A Year At The Opera#excerpt#excerpts from my writing#writeblr community
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in which caesar doesn’t do anything much and all the women are named julia
[Hi, this is me stanning Adrian Goldsworthy’s biography of Caesar. I studied Classics, but not this period, so all I can contribute here are squeals of delight, a few mistakes and the occasional witty comment. If you’d like to know more, please buy the book - it’s really good and a fun read.]
PART 2
The thing is - there’s a lot of boring relevant political stuff going on in this chapter, but I’m mostly fascinated by the glimpses we get into the world of Roman women.
As I said, this is not really my area, so I know random, unconnected facts about how life was like for them; also it doesn’t make much sense to talk about ‘Roman women’, because, as a reminder, ‘Rome’ stretches from the 14th century BC to the 14th century AD, came to include dozens of very different regions, and obviously was home to an incredibly diverse population. And if we’re talking about the late Republican / imperial aristocracy, there’s a sharp divide anyway: on the one hand, the ‘ideal woman’ is the same old model we’re all used to and heard about (silent, obedient, virtuous, chaste, a perfect mother and so on), but on the other, Roman noblewomen had a lot more freedom than, say, their Greek counterparts, so there was usually some political scheming going on - something that in Greece was reserved to a handful of very well-placed courtesans.
(In this sense, think about the contrast between Lucretia, the mythological wife of Collatinus, whose fridging created the Republic, and Agrippina, mother of Nero, empress and all-round badass bitch.)
Anyway, this chapter made me think about women because it starts with Caesar being born and getting his name - it’s sort of an urban legend, btw, that every single Roman had three names: that was just for the Moste Noblest - and how Goldsworthy casually mentions that, unlike men, women of noble birth would just take their family surname as first name. In Caesar’s family, for instance, all the women were named Julia.
(As a reminder: his given name was Caius, then ‘Julius’ identified the tribe, and finally ‘Caesar’ was a nickname that was possibly given to his grandfather for something elephant-related.
People whose grandfathers did not do elephant-related stuff generally never enjoyed the prestige of a funny nickname passed down through the generations.)
So it’s bad enough that twins might be named ‘Peter and Not-Peter’ or ‘Peter and Twin’, but imagine going to the park with your buggy and meeting your old friend Oldest She-Jones (daughter of Ferdinand Jones), now married to George David Taylor, and her five kids - Louis David Taylor, She-Taylor, She-Taylor the Second, She-Taylor the Third and She-Taylor Born on Christmas. So damn cute, and also the reason why the Romans never developed smartphones or social media - how the hell are you supposed to find someone on Vultocodex when every single cousin and aunt has the exact same name?
Poor management, that is.
But anyway - as I said, there’s a dissonance here because women being treated like garbage (like, not given normal names and married off at fourteen) also led to the very peculiar phenomenon: generations of (male) politicians and VIPs being raised by very forceful, strong, and ambitious (widowed) mothers. Because if you count old age, wars, trampolining injuries (let’s be honest, men have always been obsessed with attempting dangerous stunts just for the fun of it) and the general risks of Roman politics, it was very usual for a noble kid to not even remember his father at all.
(Nero is a good example of how weird and all-consuming this boy-mother relationship could become - there’s entire books about it, but I’d point 16-and-over readers to Suetonius’ Life of Nero for details.
Keep in mind 95% of it is propaganda because Suetonius hated Nero, but still. HBO-worthy stuff in there.)
All this to say - we know that Caesar had a very close relationship with his mom (named ‘Aurelia’ because - you guessed it - she came from the Aurelii family), who was a near perfect figure of virtue, intelligence, beauty and common sense. Very powerful in her own right, Aurelia raised Caesar basically on her own, because her (much older) husband was either away at war or dead for most of their marriage.
Aside from drinking in Aurelia’s wisdom, Caesar’s education also included the normal lessons noble Roman boys were required to learn: self-worth, narcissism, delusional manias, rhetoric, martial arts, horse-riding, and writing really bad fanfiction based on Greek myths.
And now for the MEANWHILE part.
(I have no idea why this gif was tagged ‘meanwhile’, but I’m not enough of an idiot to let it go to waste, so.)
Meanwhile, all sort of messes were going on.
As I’m sure you remember, at some point the consul was Marius - Caesar’s uncle and a military genius, but not much of a politician. His negotiation tactic of choice was secretly inviting groups of unconnected people to his house on the same night, serving them dinner in two separate rooms so they wouldn’t see one another and try to work out some kind of agreement between them. Whenever a new point came up, Marius would say he had diarrhoea, pretend to run to the bathroom and instead sit down with the second group and see what they thought about the first group’s proposal.
(Isn’t ancient Rome magnificent?)
A big problem Marius had to deal with was how to grant citizenship to the allied tribes in Italy without pissing off current citizens. Basically no one wanted these other guys to be given new rights, but since they supplied more than half the soldiers of the Roman army and got nothing in return, their patience was running a bit thin. At some point, Roman bureaucrats started to erase foreign-born citizens from their lists claiming they were not actual citizens (something so openly dishonest NO OTHER GOVERNMENT would EVER attempt it again), and next yet another tribune working on a citizenship reform was stabbed to death in the street.
So the allies went to war.
(This war, confusingly, is known as the Social War, because ‘socius’ means ‘ally’ in Latin.)
As you can imagine, it was a disaster. Most of the allied communities had been part of the Roman republic for I don’t want to check but let’s say decades, they lived side by side with Roman families and fought in the same wars, so it was more of a civil war than anything else. Some tribes chose to remain faithful to Rome, others didn’t. Lots of people died.
Caesar was too young to be a soldier, but this was Cicero’s first taste of war (bet you never thought of that weaselly weasel as a soldier, uh? appearances can be deceiving, folks!). Marius was also involved, but since he was old as shit and had famously weak and leaky guts (hahahhaha), he mostly stayed out of active combat, which wasn’t all that normal for a Roman general. In the end, the whole of Italy, down to defeated tribes, cows, dogs and random patches of mossy rocks, was granted citizenship and everyone went home. Their votes, however, were inserted in the system in such a way that they didn’t count much.
On the whole, the one winner of this war was Lucius Cornelius Sulla, one of the military commanders, who became a consul soon after.
Another war, because this is Rome and Romans were dicks, but! this one was in the East, which means every single soldier would get super rich and also! wars in the East were considered easy because *insert racist trope here* and! Sulla had been promised that, as the big winner of the Social War, he could go there with his legions and basically enjoy this Disneyland of golden cups and ultraviolence but! at the last moment, Marius, who never liked Sulla much, managed to snatch the commandership from him, which! was completely legal but also *insert outraged emoji* and wait for it! instead of going gentle into the good night, Sulla made a fiery speech to his soldiers all like GUESS WHAT FOLKS WE’RE STUCK HERE SCRATCHING OUR TESTICULI AND THOSE IDIOTS FROM THE 25TH ARE TAKING YOUR GOLD AND YOUR UNWILLING WOMEN and! Sulla’s entire army marched! on! the! city! of! Rome!
It was the first time a Roman army had ever invaded Rome. Nobody was expecting it, and people panicked. Sulla’s men won easily, burned down some buildings, killed some people, generally had a great time; and then Sulla announced a bounty for anyone who’d disembowel his political enemies (including Marius) because he didn’t have time to go to Braavos and learn how to do it himself (remember, he still had his war waiting for him in the East).
(This turned out to be a success, btw. One guy was even killed by his slave - Sulla gave him the promised reward, then shoved him off a mountain because duh, slave and “When I said ‘anyone’, I meant people, not IKEA furniture” and “Honestly”.)
As nobody could have imagined and/or predicted, as soon as Sulla left for Greece Weak Guts Marius came back with an army and took back the city, beheading his way to the Senate and leaving a trail of blood wherever he passed. As soon as he got there, however, he dropped dead - heart attack, trampolining, diarrhoea, who can tell - and the city was taken over by his second-in-command, Lucius Cornelius Cinna.
(Man, what a ride.)
Unfortunately, it’s impossible to know what Caesar was doing during this time.
Personally, I like to imagine him in Rome - a well-dressed, grey-eyed 15-year-old, freshly orphaned, horrified and exhilarated by the violence exploding all around him - I see him running down the streets, stopping to watch the corpses float in the dark waters of the Tiber, daring his friends to go and touch the severed heads nailed to the doors of the Senate; recognizing many of those heads as friends and colleagues of his father and uncle (passing a hesitant finger on the cold flesh, remembering how they’d once laughed and frowned and spoken about boring matters from the dais).
The truth is, Caesar was just a kid. He was supposed to learn about the Republic, and his own role in making it great, by watching his elders.
God knows what he actually learned, and what he thought, as he was passing through Rome’s paved streets, now shimmering with blood.
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#julius caesar#ancient rome#history#classics#antiquity#adrian goldsworthy#book rec#history crack#sort of#elephant boy#problematic fave
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Rebecca Cotswolds
Is she gonna kiss Kyle again?
Rebecca has been accepted! Send your blog to the main ASAP.
out of character info
Name/Alias: Alice
Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 18
Join Our Discord: I’m already there
Timezone: Central
Activity: 9
Triggers: N/A
Password: jimmy can fast pass my ass
Character that you’re applying for: Rebecca Cotswolds
Favourite ships for your character: HMU
in character info
Full name: Rebecca Ruth Cotswolds
Birthday: January 17th
Sexuality, gender, pronouns: She’s not sure about her sexuality, she’s a female and goes by she/her pronouns.
Age and grade: 18, Senior
Appearance:
Rebecca has shoulder length, curly brown hair that she often keeps back with clips or bobby pins. Although she does put her hair up in a messy bun occasionally. She has pale freckles that dust her cheeks and arms. She has pale skin that betrays her nature of not going outside in favor of studying. She has deep brown eyes. Rebecca stands approximately five foot and weighs a healthy 94 pounds. She’s rather partial to flowers or other nature clips in her hair or accessories.
As for fashion, you could commonly see her in lace or some kind of sundress. She prefers neutral colors that compliment her dark hair and light skin. Colors such as white, pink, or pale purple. She loves to hang out in her black ballet flats. She wears fairly natural makeup, except for her lips which she prefers to do a red shade. If she’s feeling it, she can do her eyes darker as well. Her fashion wouldn’t look out of place at a garden photo shoot. Since her big episode whenever she was like, eight, She largely dropped the revealing clothing. Except whenever she really feels like rebelling.
Personality:
Rebecca has grown a lot since her time as a third grader in South Park High School. Her parents took her right out of public school until middle school, so her growth definitely stagnated. They kept her sheltered, so this has a direct result on her personality as a high schooler. Growing up in a conservative mountain town under the watchful eye of her mother and father left her with very little experience regarding things such as sexual endeavors or even how a girl her age is to supposed to act. She’s still very innocent in that regards, and that inherent innocence seeps down to her core. She’s definitely kind, willing to donate to whatever charity or organization needs her help. However, there is a darker side to her that’s even more deeply rooted than her innocent and kind nature. She has a defiant streak in her, that expresses herself in weird ways. She fantasizes about intense emotions, good or bad, that she could one day feel. She’s fascinated with her inherent desires that she was trained to suppress all her life, which drives her to do the extreme on occasion.
She’s a compassionate individual, despite having not really deep emotions at all and her yearning to feel them. She does find herself feeling compassion for others situation or those in need. Never let it be said that Rebecca isn’t intelligent, she’s very intelligent. Still harboring her desire to become a brain surgeon, and she focuses a lot on her studies. A thirst for knowledge leads her to be extremely curious for the world around her, yearning to know all its secrets and feel all its emotions. Deeply, she’s in resentment towards her sheltered life and wants to experience the world and gain an independence she never had. In her, she harbors a deep sadness within her at her current situation and the way her knowledge intake is stagnated by her fanatic parents. Rebecca, in a small aspect, still wants to remain a sheltered child and a subconscious part of her that’s been indoctorined into her still wants to uphold her parents and be willfully arrogant.
In short, she’s a confused child who is trying to find her place in the big world.
History:
Rebecca was born on January 17th to two loving parents. A deeply Christian household, they took a fundamentalist approach in her and her brother’s upbringing. From a young age, she was not allowed to watch TV except for documentaries or Bible specials. She was homeschooled for the majority of her young childhood, and often had nothing to do except for play board games with her brother or parents, study, or wander in the very extensive garden. Her mind carried beyond the fence borders, yearning to see the world. Her chance came with the spelling bee. After the antics of ‘Hooked on Monkey Phonics’, she was pulled out of public school, unlike her brother who got to remain. She was homeschooled, and her parents drilled into her what she was doing was wrong, even though they never explained to her why it was wrong leaving her incredibly confused and hurt. So began her struggle on why something so bad could feel so good.
Just before fifth grade, she approached her parents and begged them to let her attend public school again. At first they vehemently denied her, but she remained relentless and with help from her brother managed to convince her parents to enroll her in the local public middle school. Instantly, she was overwhelmed and felt like an outsider. Still, she refused to allow herself to be sunk. She slowly became more and more confused as time went on. She knew she couldn’t bring it up with her parents or else they would just pull her out again. She was also forbidden to study anything regarding sexual practices or drugs. This was out of the paranoia of her parents that she would end up as some bitch of a pimp. So throughout middle school she remained by choice willfully ignorant, although a growing desire and yearning was filling her.
Rebecca in high school is no less confused than she has been all these years, however a budding resentment was starting to brew at her parents for refusing to explain what her urges are and why exactly they are so bad. She began fantasizing about feeling something deep. Anything. Pain, sadness, ecstasy, true anger, she isn’t allowed to feel any of that and was denied it so often as a child she’s definitely more twisted inside. Come senior year, her full self as she knows herself now has formed. Innocent, knowledge hungry, compassionate, and fucked up in a way that could only be faulted by her parents.
Sample paragraph:
As another day dwindles to a close, the brown haired girl walked slowly through the garden. Taking in the flowers and the colorful shrubs that were so intricately chosen. Her black flats subtly jumped from one stone to the next, her dress fluttering in the wind. She was in deep, meditative thought. About everything and nothing. She could spend hours roaming the gardens and never come across the same thought twice. She was largely introspective, because where else would they go? Her brother certainly did not understand her desires or confusions, and her parents were out of the question. In fact, any minute she would be called inside for dinner. The routine would follow with her and her brother cleaning the kitchen, before the gathered around the fireplace for their nightly scripture reading, until the grandfather clock dinged 10 and it was time for her to bed. She allowed a sigh to escape her red tinted lips, a surge of sadness coming at thought of that routine. Something she should find comfort in gives her none. She couldn’t help but think she would find comfort in something much more dark.
Rebecca paused, coming to a little hole in the fence. She stepped off the cobblestone path, and pushed aside the vines that artfully grew on the fence. Her parents called it art, she called it prison bars. She peeks outside of the hole, seeing the town mall. She had been to the mall on occasion, but her mother preferred to have her clothes custom made by a family friend. She tucked a stray strand of brown hair behind her ear before carefully setting the vines back in place before continuing her garden stroll. She looked down, there was some moss growing in between the stones, and she looked to a bed of daises, her favorite. She tutted softly, seeing the weeds. She would have to weed the bed tomorrow. Of course, with summer closer than ever she would have hours upon hours of time to do whatever she wanted. In the borders of the bubble they forced her in, of course. Instead of sadness, there was anger. And she didn’t find herself pushing it down.
Still slightly stewing, she took a seat on the white wicker bench they had that looked like a scene straight out or Romeo and Juliet. She looked to her side seeing Lillies. Beautiful, pure, innocent flowers. She reached out a hand and began stroking the petal. “How lonely you are,” Rebecca said quietly in her mezzo soprano voice. “I daresay you haven’t had the pleasure of seeing the world. Your roots are planted here, after all.” Rebecca said, gazing at the flower with eyes filled to the brim with longing. “And even then, what is in the world except for dirty boots and rotten people to pull out your petals or crush your stem.” Rebecca said, knowing full well what she was saying. “Still though, you want to go? Yes, pain could possibly be therapeutic. Or is that what you’ve read in storybooks? What is reality?” The flower said nothing, it could not hear nor speak. That suited Rebecca fine. She sighed softly. “You won’t be finding out will you?”
No sooner did the words escape her lips, she heard the call of her father. She looked over her shoulder, before she got the inexplicable urge to lay her lips lightly on the flower, before walking softly and quickly away, to wash up for dinner.
Headcanons:
-Isn’t in the top ten, but the top fifteen taking the 13th spot.
-She’s still an incredibly good speller.
-Is going to Norte Dam University. She wants to pursue neuroscience.
-Finds herself fascinated with documentaries regarding death.
-Plays the flute
-Her voice is definitely on the lower side for a teenage girl.
-Has undiagnosed anxiety
-She helps her mother with their extremely beautiful garden.
-Has a diary, it is the only place she lets out her frustrations.
Anything else: N/A
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Aurelius [Prologue]
Pairing: BTS Namjoon ⇆ Reader
Genre: Werewolf | Fluff | Angst | Smut [later] |
Summary: When the daughter of the secretary for the Minister for Wolf and Canine relations is the last living member of her clan, she must find a way to avenge her family. She must find a way to put an end to the hunters whose sole purpose is to cleanse the world of werewolves. The golden one hasn’t forgotten. Will she be able to get the revenge she needs?
Words: 8.7 K
Warnings: Rated Mature; Explicit themes, action/ violence, blood shed, torture, death of characters (minor), and graphic depiction. This is not true though series, only this part for context.
A/N: Orig post: 01|15| 2018; Updated intro 12|12|19. Part of the KLF Universe. Thank you @ratedtae for the moodboard.
| Masterlist | Next ⇾
Only the ghost of the red-violet torch light painting the depressingly dull cobblestone walls gave me indication I didn’t give into the darkness. My first associations with that light were brief when the Neanderthal like men dragged my father, my grandfather and I into this cell. The oxidized iron liquid that I used to call mine painted the wall behind me and my very own dress. It was like my once champagne peach dress was now dipped in a marbled brown and burgundy dye solution and rung out sloppily. The spaghetti straps no longer supported the once proud collar of my dress but hung lifelessly at my sides. The only thing left at my side now. The cold, almost wet, cement floor and the cobble stone walls were the only thing supporting me up now. Gashes, slashes, and broken ribs left me immobile with only my eyes making the major movement. I couldn’t move. I could barely breathe, but I still had the fight in me. Almost cruelly, I still had fight in me.
I couldn’t hear well out of my right ear anymore just a high pitched constant ringing. Though clearly in my left ear I could hear a set of two heavy boots trail down the hall towards my cell. My grandfather remained unconscious in the opposite corner of the cell with his back facing me. If my senses proved me right, he’s left us a few hours ago to a better place. I only stared at the men dressed in black clothing with leather ascents who stood across the uneven, iron bars of the cell. What was the most sickening about them was the pelt that still carried the head of the wolf on the shoulders of their cloak. The faces of my people.
I growled lowly in my throat challenging these men to come close to me. They laughed and shoved the uneven bars of the cell door with their mudded boots open and stepped into the cell creating a half moon around me. I remained still as possible monitoring their movements cautiously with my eyes. The only reliable sense I had left. The center one with a grey wolf around his black cloak crouched down to my level. He took my chin between his calloused thick hands and brought my face up to look at him. His yellowed teeth showed behind his grime smile. His unkept long, brown hair fanned over his face only making his appearance more menacing. You’ve heard the verbal stories passed down through generations from your grandparents about these men. The horrific things these men did. The hunters.
He licked his chapped, thin lips before speaking, “It’s such a shame a pretty doll like this is such a filthy little bitch. If she wasn’t such scum I would’ve taken her to my bed. Sadly, for you my dear, my Lord calls for you.” He dropped my chin roughly and shoved a blacken, muslin bag over your head and tightened it with a string. I couldn’t see where they were dragging me, but I tried to mesmerize the turns we were taking but it was hard when your feet were scrapping cement. My feet weren’t used to such rough terrain, instead accustomed to running through grass, soft dirt, and the fuzzy carpet of my home. I missed home.
In fact, I was just there a few hours ago! A day ago? I’m not really sure how much time has passed honestly since I’ve been in this cell.
It was Sunday and my family held a monthly dinner to take a moment to celebrate life and being a family. I was sleeping in late that day when my mom came in the room and shoved open my curtains that block out the harsh noon sun. I enjoy the sun, just not when I’m trying to sleep. I grumble knowing that this is the end, the end of my precious slumber. Without warning she jumps on top of me and tickles me leaving me no choice to get up to stop her. I swear my mother never grew up, she’s more like a big sister than a parental figure. “Y/N, its Sunday. You know what that means?” I grumble under the covers while my mother leans her head into the covers to get a better listen. “Your grandparents are coming in from the North. They took a train here this morning and will be arriving around 5pm. You know how hard it is for them to travel so get up and help me. Get dressed first, wear something nice nothing casual Aure! We don’t have a lot of time!” I sneak a hand out of the blanket and wave it to her and give her an okay sign. She pats my butt in understanding the shaky promise and leaves the room.
Aure obviously wasn’t your name. I liked the name though, but my mom thought my legal name fit better. It just had this flow to it that was so…me, or so she insists. Before I was born, my dad went to Spain for a study abroad program for college and stayed with a Spanish family. He was taken into the family like one of their own during his stay. The wife/mother of the family taught him things his family lacked and found a new family in them. He grew very close to her and years later back at home when he found out he was going to have a daughter he wanted to name her after that woman. Her name was Aureliana (but your family found it simpler to call me by Aure). He asked her before he left if her name held a meaning and she said it meant golden and an emperor from Rome bared that name; more realistically her mother wanted her life to be golden like the word itself. My mother had decided on her children’s name as long as she could remember, so it left your father little room to argue. He found a loophole and called me Aure as a nickname, because I am as precious as gold to him.
I went to shower first before I swung open the French doors to my closet. I didn’t have many party dresses, but the ones I did I took care of. It was Spring, so I went with my champagne-peach spaghetti strap short dress that set just above my knees. It was pastel enough to match the new turn of the season, but comfy enough to maneuver in. Comfort comes first after all with clothing. I sat at my white vanity that used to be my grandmothers and set my face with light makeup. I was only staying indoors today anyways. I French braided my hair from crown to tip and pulled at the strands to loosen it up. A few pieces were taken out around my temple and cascaded on the side of my face. My mother came back in the room already dressed up as well in her blue, long sleeve knee length dress. She had her hair tied up in a tight bun that complimented her sharp features. The gold jewelry complimented her gold eyes. It was a unique thing that belonged to your people, even more unique to female alphas; only female alpha’s have gold eyes. She grabbed the two ends of the chains I already raised to latch the rose gold necklace, but took over halfway wordlessly. It was one piece of the set my father to me for my last birthday when I turned seventeen. My mother reached into the aged, heirloom jewelry box and pulled out the six rose gold rose pins for my hair. She weaved them through the braid into a small garden. I looped in the small hoop earring into my ears as the last touch and after latching the last hoop I took in everything. My metallic, rose gold eyes matched my jewelry perfectly.
I was born with gold eyes like my mother but as I got older red bleed into the gold mixing it into a rose gold. In a childish fit I was ashamed of them, I didn’t want to be different. I wanted to be like the rest of my pack, like the other female alpha’s generations before me. I sat at on the top of the porch chairs ashamed of my eyes but my father sat down behind me incasing me in between his legs. He set his bearded chin on my head, “The purple blends with the edges of the sky at night and for centuries people have painted that same sky. Each sunset is unique, no day will the clouds be the same. There will be no night where the sunset doesn’t marble into different colors.” I stopped sobbing hearing my dad’s words. He always talked some sense into me and told stories instead of lectures to get his message across. He wound his arms around me in a comforting hug, “Aure, Aureliana, my love, do you know that your name is as unique as the sky?” I shook my head acknowledging I’ve never bothered to ask, it’s just always been a self-truth I didn’t question. He sighed rocking me side to side gently and began, “Aureliana was the name of a special woman, who was like a mother to me, when I went to Spain. She told me the great legend of her name. Aureliana meant golden and that it was the name of an emperor of the Romans. The Romans were strong, smart, and diverse people who wore their red and gold robes proudly. They were greatest people of their time! Of course, your mother wanted to name you Y/N, but I still think you’re my little golden token. I’m grateful to have you Aure and I wouldn’t ever change that. You are strong and smart. Don’t be ashamed of the same colors the Roman’s wore proudly. My precious, little wolf, be the strong and valiant one I know you are.”
Being the daughter of an Alpha was a big responsibility, you were expected to lead the pack later when it was time to pass it down to the next reigning leader as the new Luna. The words my father told me that evening never left my every day motivational speech. I’ve held my head proudly since then and I want to lead my pack with pride when the time came. My pack was only a smaller division of a larger collective tribe. The region that I belong to was made of five different family packs, but my family was the second in ranking. The Kim family was the main alpha’s that ruled the area and their alpha worked for the Council as the Minister of Wolves and Canine relations. Your father was the secretary for the Minister earning the spot as a wise alpha and a smart man.
I walked down the stairs trailing after my mother into the kitchen. It was only my mother and myself in the house for the meantime to finish dinner and decorate the house before my father returned with my grandparents, his parents. My mother’s family disappeared five years ago, never to be found. I mixed some of the dishes and went to set the table with a large bouquet centerpiece. A few streamers were hung to create a festive atmosphere and bring all the décor together. It was tradition in wolf culture to be close to your family and mine lived by that diligently. I was working on some decorations in the living room when I hear the familiar car horn coming from the drive way. I slipped on my outside slippers and made my way out and down the porch steps and jogged up to the white Jeep Grand Cherokee. I waited for my dad to come out the car and he opened his arms wide and said, “Aure!” With an open invitation I jumped into his arms and squeezed him with all I had. He laughed at my eagerness and set me down. I turned to my grandparents struggling to get out. My grandpa was a tall, lean man with salt and pepper hair. He said his wrinkles were caused by grandma, “the woman never knows how to stop nagging me Y/N,” at least I quote from him. Grandma was a short, small woman but she had enough spunk in her to rival me. I hugged them equally as tight just not jumping this time around. I politely took their carry-ons walking with them into the house as they told me about their adventure on the train. Your father followed closely behind with their suitcase and closed the front door.
It was around seven pm when everything was on the table and served onto everyone’s plate. My father raised his glass clinking it with a nearby utensil. “I’m so glad my parents could make it to this dinner. It’s always great having you in our home. It isn’t home without everyone here tonight, Howls to the kin!” You all howled in cheer and clinked your glasses, but in my gauntlet it was only apple juice. I couldn’t drink any alcohol yet since it was illegal. The meal was delicious, my mother was an amazing cook. All adults at the table were tipsy with the merlot wine that my father has been saving for the occasion. I was facing the bay window sitting next to my mother, across from your grandparents with my father at the head of the table. All the adults were so in tuned with some old story that I’ve heard every Sunday dinner. They were clearly giggling at the same boring parts and retelling the same old jokes. I stared out the window not being able to leave the table until I cleaned my plate. I twirled my fork in the few last bites of pasta, but I didn’t raise it to take a bite. I stared out at the tree line of the property. The moonlight shined brightly on the mid-size back yard reflecting on the freshly dewed grass. We were far out from the city and from the closet pack house, it was safer for us and allowed us to run the forest in our natural states. There were no fences around the property since we wanted to run freely and return at will.
The tree line seemed to move and sway, I rubbed my eyes clearing it of any haze. I was positive I didn’t drink anything so why was the tree line changing? The black shadows took to a uniform line of dark shadows approaching the house out of the trees. They wore long, black cloaks, so you couldn’t make out any faces. I panicked my heart was racing, I yelled breaking the warm, nostalgic atmosphere, “Dad, Dad, there are people approaching the house! Look out the window, Look!” As if he sobered up instantly, his eyes burned a bright red and he peered at the tree line finally seeing the approaching shadows. A growl ripped through everyone in the room and I turned to the window again now seeing them more clearly. Each carried a pelt, some multiple, of their hunt with large knifes tucked into a sheath on their belt. They were armed in leather armor under their cloaks as I caught glimpses within strides. The man in the middle with multiple pelts on his cloak raised his hand and his minions stopped. He raised his head and to the side allowing my family to see the smirk of his teeth. He unsheathed his large sword gripping the leather handle that had a wolf’s tail hanging as an ornament. The blade was held in the air and it was dripping in purple, viscous solution. My eyes widened, I knew that syrup very well and whispered audibly, “wolfsbane.” The man kept arching his arm all the way back and then threw his knife towards us. Screams wrecked the room as the knife cracked the glass shattering the window and the knife was left oscillating stuck in the wooden table. My mother grabbed my hand calling along my grandmother, “Honey, we’re going to run. Don’t stop running okay? When we reach the front lawn, I want you to shift into your wolf. Go!” I looked towards my father and grandpa, who was already shifting and charging towards the men. I whimpered. There were too many men, I already knew this wasn’t going to end well. My mother dragged me to the front door and I made it into the lawn bare feet, “Shift! Don’t bother removing clothes just run!” The sound of clothes ripping and bones cracking filled the air, but close along the boots and laughs of the men followed. I didn’t look back, I kept running with my family at my side.
I was able to make it a half mile out climbing over and under shrubbery, trees, and anything in the way. It wasn’t long before you heard a yelp and against better judgment I took a gander back only to be horrified when you saw that your grandmother was being pulled by the tail towards the men. They raised their purple knifes letting the purple syrup drip tauntingly and then straight into her. I was horrified but my mother nudged my shoulder midstride to keep running; it wasn’t time to stop. My vision was getting blurry with tears. We made it past a river bank and saw an upcoming edge of a cliff. If we jumped, we could get away. We made it a bit further, I was trailing in front of my mother when I heard a pained howl. I stopped a few steps ahead and saw she was stuck in a bear trap. I was circling her whining, there wasn’t anything I could do in this state. I approached her and tried to bite the claws open finding any lever to release the pressure. I was panicking because I could smell the putrid smell of the hunters. The distinct smell of wolfsbane was getting closer and closer. I scratched and bite at the trap for a release, my claws were filing against the rusted metal of the old forgotten trap. My mother was barking at me to leave, leave and go far away but I wasn’t going to leave her behind. Before I knew it a large calloused hand encircled my neck and held me above the ground hind legs dangling. I couldn’t breathe but I was kicking and biting at the hands holding me. They laughed at my struggle, “Well look at what we have here. Two females? Well if it isn’t our lucky day.” One of the five men was stroking my mothers fur, but retracting his hand back when she snapped at him. He clicked his tongue at her, “stubborn, bitch.” He then placed his foot on the trap and eventually applied enough pressure to hear a snap of bone where the two sides of the bear trap met again. I roared, and my mother was screaming at the loss of her limb. The amount of blood flowing was overwhelming. They looked towards me and noticed my eyes, “wow, look at this one’s eyes. It would sell for so much if we dug them out and sold them don’t ya think?” I was shaking more violently doing everything I could to get out of their grasp. My mother looked into my eyes one last time before the gold left hers to turn a black as the man brought his up knife in both hands and through her chest. It hurt so much, and I was feeling sick. My vision was blacking in and out and before you knew it you passed out from the lack of air.
The muslin over my head didn’t lessen all of my senses. I could smell the different owners of blood, but I recognized notes of my fathers and grandpa’s as I was hurled to the floor of the room. I could only hear four heartbeats in the room. Before the muslin was removed, my arms were twisted behind my back locked in cuffs that were attached to decayed chains latched to the celling in my kneeling position. A scratchy rope was tied around my thighs and calves into a permanent kneeling position. This position really put strain on my broken rib, but I made no notion of it. I wasn’t going to let them get under my skin. My father always warned me if I was ever in this position to show no fear, don’t directly challenge but handle things logically. With him being in politics, this isn’t the first threat our family has faced. The bag was removed off my head and I had to squint to adjust to the bright surgical lighting of the room. The room had tiles lining the wall and on the opposite wall my father was suspended from the ceiling in chains like mine. His face was so bloated and the injury from somewhere in his hairline was dripping down his face. I wanted to cry, but I knew I had to remain composed with my head held up high. I was still trying to forget what happened to my mother and grandparents. The same man who threw the knife through the window was standing over a machine with different knobs and switches. From the machine ground lead wires were snaked on the ground but lead to attachments on my father at random locations on his chest.
My nostrils flared at the sight taking deeper breathes and from the burning smell of flesh. I couldn’t turn my head up very much since I was forced into a bowing position. I was able to bring my head to glimpse over my lashes at my father who tried to speak to me, but he was only able to gurgle out blood. I lowered my head before I lost all self-control. The traumatic image was becoming too much. The man once standing in front of the generator began pacing the room, “Well, are you going to tell us now? Your poor, poor daughter wouldn’t need to face the same pain, right? It would be a shame to waste a pretty face. You’re going to tell us where the Kim’s home is, right?” My dad was struggling against the chains, “don’t touch her!” The man responded like chastising a child, “that’s not the answer I wanted, now is it.” He didn’t get any response though my father refused to let them know anything.
The man stepped in front of me taking me in and brought his hunting knife out of his tool belt. He circled around me and crouched behind me waving the knife around between his index and thumb. My father was growling viciously with his fangs elongated grazing his already cut lip. I whimpered when he dragged the blade over my skin much like a cat scratching a post. I was trembling causing the chains to rattle, “Oh, little puppy are you scared?” I didn’t respond but attempted to stop the trembling. He sighed and with his cold tone, “Daughter like father.” He stood up and brought the knife to the top of my dress and brought it down tearing the back open and then brought the knife to my bra and ripped that as well. He cleared my spine of any fabric raking his calloused, dry hands up and down my spine and exposing it to the frigid air of the room. I didn’t bother holding back my panting now, I was terrified. The man twirled the knife in his hand again lazily eyeing my father, “This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to go in intervals of cutting her and shocking you until you answer me.” My father was growling but it was cut off with a pained yelled when electricity ran through his system. I was pressing my lips tightly together silently screaming as the purple knife cut into my upper arm. The pause was short in between repetitions when the man yelled again at my father for answers. Dad was sobbing and yelling for them to stop, to leave me alone. You remained silent, not wanting to spend any energy on speaking.
After more rounds they threw water on your father when he was nearing passing out. I couldn’t keep track anymore of the gashes my arms and legs, they burned like fire because of the wolfsbane. The one that burned the most was the “H” he engraved on my thigh. The pain from the others was dull but it was chronic enough to make me hold your breath occasionally to displace the tension. The man accepted a large bucket form another hunter and brought it to loam over me this time and presented it to my father. Another male held up my father’s chin to acknowledge the lead torturer. He held up a five-gallon (nineteen liter) container with steaming, hot water higher in gesture, “we specially boiled this for her. Now for the last time, where is it?” My father was sobbing at the man holding his chin, but when he got no response the man said, “you leave me with no choice.” He truly couldn’t respond; his facial muscles weren’t responding anymore.
I was trembling so intensely that the chains attached to my cuffs were swinging in the little room they had. The drips of water from the bucket sprinkled on my back and stung upon contract. I held my head low and closed my eyes. I started mumbling comforting words to myself, anything to take my mind off the reality of the situation. I repeated lyrics from the song my mother sang to me that only our people knew. The world felt like it slowed when I felt the first hit of the wave of water. I screamed as hard as I could and the pain in the wake of it was so intense my ears began to ring. My throat felt raw when he pouring stopped but the sobbing didn’t stop. He kept pouring a second time, then a third time after a short break knowing it would intensified the pain. I was still trembling now not from fear but pain. I slumped forward and to the side off my knees onto my left thigh. The man who poured the lava on me commented, “such a shame,” but there was no empathy in his voice. He walked back over to my father and turned the electricity up and kept it on until he passed out. Not long after the muslin bag was thrown over my head again and they undid the cuffs. I just slumped to the floor face first unable to move. They dragged my father and I back to the cell where we were held earlier and laid me on the cold cell floor. They removed the bag around my head and I noticed my grandfather no longer laid in the corner. I don’t remember much after because the world was getting darker and I eventually gave into the slumber when the pain and the blood loss became too much.
I woke up in my dad’s embrace sometime later, he was petting my head whispering sweet nothings into my hair. He was crying and repeating apologies. I opened my eyes and muttered “Dad” somewhere in between a lingual language and slurring. He didn’t stop his ministrations but now changed his words, “Your name is Aure. You’re no longer Y/N. If anyone ask you say that is who you are. The others, they didn’t make it, but you, you will! I’m going to help you escape. I need you to live on Aure. Once we reach the front door I need you to run and get as far away as possible. My little wolf you will run!” I was unsure of what he meant, what did he mean only I was going to escape? Why weren’t we going together? “Dad, it’s both of us or nothing.” He shook his head and stroked my cheek and told me that when the guards leave be prepared to leave.
I wasn’t prepared when my dad was able to bend the uneven metal bars, or when I snuck down the cell hallway up the stairs. The torch lights flickered when we passed by them. I wasn’t prepared when he held his hand over my mouth walking up the irregularly spaced cement stairs into the cabin on ground floor. I wasn’t prepared when he shoved me out the front door when the hunters ambushed him seeing us trying to escape. I wasn’t prepared when he fought them off with everything he had and he yelled to me with his last breath “Run!”. I had to leave him. I ran, unprepared, but I ran away.
I shifted into my wolf form because I was able to run faster on four legs than two. The pain from the burns along my spine and the gashes all over my body made the shift harder and regaining traction back nauseating. I stumbled my way into the forest and broke into a full run with all I had. Pain was secondary now. I kept running even when I couldn’t hear any more voices. I couldn’t trust silence. I kept running even when I was stumbling over my front paws, I must keep going. I came across a river at the end of a blue-green waterfall. Behind the waterfall’s cascade was a cave but before I made any moves into it I smelled the surroundings for anyone or anything. The coast was clear, so I stumbled into the entrance slipping on some rocks and into a shallow pool of cold water. The cold soothed my burns and the dirt in my fur contaminant the once clear water. The normally light-brown, white coat was a dark brown and burgundy. I stayed in the pool, I didn’t have energy to get back up. I was done running off adrenaline. I began sobbing knowing I now had lost my whole family. I had no one anymore. I cried myself into exhaustion and passed out in the water.
Daylight poured into the cave diffused in scattered light through the curtains of water. I laid in the same position for a while longer because the adrenaline was finally wearing off. I was so sore, but I was able to prop myself flat onto my stomach, whimpering when I put too much pressure on my ribs, and licked at my wounds enough to seal them. Werewolf’s have a special enzyme in their saliva that provide a Neosporin topical protection. Normally werewolves heal fast, but under extreme stress it can take just as long as a human’s regrowth rate. I had to get up and keep going, I didn’t know how far away the hunters were or if they were already waiting for me nearby. I limped my way out of the cave and drank some water from a clean pool before I carried on. The pain wasn’t as bad as last night, but my back felt tight with the now seared flesh solidifying into scars. Along my way I tried to hunt but no small creatures were around and if there was they were too fast. I kept going until it was pitch black out. A cabin amongst the trees broke the darkness with its porch light. I crouched behind bushes and observed it for any life. There was an old, green pickup truck off to the side of the cabin. I knew someone had to be living there, there must be food, all I had to do was sneak in to take some. I watched the home for any obvious signs hunters were a part of the place, but there wasn’t any pelts or animal skins.
After waiting for an hour, I crept to the side of the house in my human form naked to a side window that was left ajar. I creaked the wooden window pane open but stopped when it got too noisy. I waited for any sound, but nothing came. I gripped the wood and worked my way into the house landing on a knitted rug. I used my night vision to my advantage and observed the room locating the Kitchen. I crept through the dark house into the kitchen. The wooden floor boards would occasionally creak, but I tried to space it out enough to seem like natural, old home settling creaks. The steel double door of the fridge was calling to me, so I braced for the sound of the hiss from opening the door and held my breath as it opened. The decompression of the fridge activated the humming of the radiator. There was too much noise going on, so I grabbed any Tupperware and a crispy, cold apple and ran back to the window.
The light turned on and I froze in the middle of a living room with the evidence in plain sight. My bare back was turned to whomever the two owners of fast paced heart beats were, and I turned around with the apple in my mouth and my eyes wide. I covered my chest with my scared arms and the Tupperware protecting myself as much as I could. The older couple were still in the midst of tying their robes over their pajamas. I began stepping back but tripped over the same knitted rug I landed on spilling the contents on the Tupperware on the floor and myself. I was lowly growling in a way to have them back away enough for me to sneak back out the window. They held their hands up in defense and the older man spoke first, “we aren’t going to hurt you. Please, just calm down.” I was still eyeing the window but my direction of attention changed when they said, “You’re hurt, let us patch you up and feed you. You’re hungry right?” I stopped growling but yapped back in a broken voice, “No, you’re just going to take me back to them! I won’t go back!” They exchanged confused looks not knowing who I was referring too. “Honey, we don’t know who you’re talking about. Please, let us help you.” The room was silent for a few minutes and I looked around taking in the room to see if they had any weapons or pelts. The living room was humble with an old sofa, wooden tables and family pictures. I untensed when nothing indicated hunters and hunched over, but immediately cried out when the movement put stress on my wounds. The older woman inched her way towards me and was able to pick up the apple that fell out of my mouth and handed it to me. With a reluctant hand I extended then brought it back, but fully went to grab it rapidly. The older woman took my other hand and lead me to the bathroom. She asked me to stand in the shower so she could wash off the dirt and clean my wounds. She was truly gentle with me and didn’t ask any questions. I want to run, but the comforting hand of hers reminded me of my own grandmother. I started crying, an ugly cry, hunching over to collapsing to my own feet. The older woman was alarmed, she thought she hurt me further and asked what’s wrong. I shook my head and she brought me into her chest in an embrace not caring that she was getting wet. She rocked me back in forth until my sobs stopped. She dressed my wounds but said, “I’m not a nurse so this is the best I can do. I can’t cover your back up with any bandage. The burn is too extensive, I’m going to just apply aloe and we’ll let it heal on its own.” I nodded slowly in confirmation and she took a step out to her room to grab me some clothing. I finally took a step towards the wide mirror. The woman that looked back at me was an unfamiliar creature. My skin was pale littered in black and blue marks and gauze looped over the countless cuts. I slowly turned around to take a look at my back, if I could call it that anymore. It could’ve been mistaken for a world map from the apex of my neck all the way down to the small of the back. It was roaring red with purple lining the jagged edges of the map, the tiny cluster of blisters were inflamed full to the brim with serum. I was numb at this point, I had no tears left in me, no energy left to mourn anymore.
The family fed me and gave me a room to stay in, they didn’t ask any questions just let me sleep. They respected my sensitive nature for the night. The next evening I woke up after sixteen hours of sleep and was greeted by the older man sipping coffee on the couch, while his wife was across from him knitting a blanket. They looked up at me and smiled widely, “Evening dear, there’s food set on a plate on the dinner table for you.” I nodded and sat down in one of the four chairs with the plate of food. They both joined me at the table sitting across from me. I stopped eating when the atmosphere became uncomfortable. The old man spoke first with a stern voice, “If you’re going to stay here until your better we need to know who you are and where you came from.” I set the utensil down and stared at my plate, but the man spoke again,” I see your eyes are a different color than any natural color, are you one of them?” The older man spoke last words with venom and I knew it wasn’t safe to tell him the truth. I settled for a half-truth half lie on the spot, “my-my name is Aure. I ran away from..”gulp,” the a group of men that took me away from my family. They were sick men and performed experiments on me and my eyes. The last time was too much and I just ran away. I couldn’t take it anymore.” I struggled a bit with a solid story, but it came off as if what I was saying was too painful to relate. I was sure I probably sounded slightly cynical but that just helped me out. I was hoping they would take sympathy on me and consider me a rightful victim. The older woman grabbed my hand in her and patted it, “I’m so sorry that you went through all that. Those men must’ve experimented with wolf blood. Should we call the police? You can stay here as long as you want dear. We’ll be more than happy to take you in.” I looked up afraid, “please, no I don’t want to involve the authorities. I-I just want to stay hidden, it’s safer that way.” The older man just nodded not caring to sit much longer at the table. “He can be rough around the edges, but he means well.” I smiled at her words, but knew I would be walking on glass in this house.
Two years passed, and I’ve never left the cabin. I was happy here, although the first few months were awkward and a struggle the couple never made me feel obliged to anything. I was able to hide who I truly was well with no mishaps. They asked me to call them something else besides mister and misses and I settled on Nana and Papa. Papa taught me how to work the gardens in the back and I even started my own lane of vegetation. Nana taught me how to knit and brew the best cups of tea. It was humble and quiet, but I was glad I had a place to stay. The family had two sons, but they rarely came to visits since they lived in the city. Their old room was now my room and I would read the old comic books they had. The one that caught my attention was Marvel’s Black Widow. I read it back and forth, over and over again. I even found some books on how to fight with diagrams! It was really a boy’s room. They told me they’ve always wanted a daughter, so I was a blessing in disguise.
At night when no one was awake I crept outside to the back and shifted enjoying my wolf form and resting the itch of the beast. I wasn’t the same tawny wolf I used to be with my beautiful light-brown, white coat. My back had a large patch of missing where the scars wouldn’t grow hair back. There was a unique scar on my hind leg of the letter H from when they cut me up letting anyone know who they were. The hunters were forever attached to me. That wasn’t the only scar, my arms were also covered in scars not as large as the H but still notable. I would take the book with me and practice the diagrams. I wanted to be able to defend myself if anything like that were to happen again. I wouldn’t let it happen again. I would always return “home” before they got up and carried on with life.
Nana came up to me with her carrying her canvas grocery bags and list of groceries; papa was slowly in tow adjusting his paperboy hat on his head with the keys in his hand. “Aure, we will be gone until five, but we’ll be back before sundown. We need to make a trip to the store and visit a fellow neighbor. Will you be fine by yourself?” I shook your head, “yes, Nana. I have chores to finish anyways so I will be busy!” She rubbed my arm and they both trailed their way out the door into the pick-up truck. I stood at the door and waved them off watching the truck become a dot in the distance. I went back inside and rolled up my sleeves, it was time to get to work. I cleaned the living room, bathroom and all the bedrooms in no time. I made myself an early lunch and was officially done with all the chores around two p.m. and it would still be another three hours before they came back. I decided I would take advantage of this time alone and shift into my wolf form that way I could sleep all night. I went out back and stripped of my clothing and hid it behind a tree. I shifted with a crack and popping of my bones, but ended up in my natural state. The breeze dusted through my tawny fur and it was the most refreshing sensation. I happily ran a typically path I created chasing any small wild life in tease, rubbing my whole body on the fresh dirt and basked in the sun. It was paradise. I took a nap in the sun on a boulder that acted like a heating pad, but before I knew it the rock grew cold. I snapped awake to a starry sky and bid goodbye to the long-gone sun. I knew I had to make it home fast and change without anyone seeing me.
I ran. I ran as fast as my feet would take me back to the familiar cabin. Within a distant from the cabin I approached the typical tree where I hid my clothing besides, but I wasn’t alone. Papa held up my dress clearly panicked and looked around for you calling out my name. In the clearing of the tree he caught me in my wolf form standing a few trees away. I shifted back into my human form covering my naked body and called to him, “Papa, please. I can explain. I can ex-.” He threw the dress to the ground causing dust to fly up in a cloud. He didn’t let me finish my statement, he never would. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to the front of the cabin where Nana was waiting. She was wide eye when she saw me naked and being dragged back. She ran up to me but Papa yelled at her, “Stay back, she’s one of them! The tramp!” I winced at his strong words. Nana was looking at me with pleading eyes, she was wishing what she heard wasn’t true. He threw me down to the floor like my dress earlier. My knees scrapped against the dry dirt and he left walking into the house. Nana came up to me and grabbed my shoulders, “please, Aure, tell me it’s not true. You’re our Aure, you can’t be one of them!” Tears streamed down my face silently and down to the dirt, I didn’t want them to find out this way. “Nana—,” I spoke to her softly grabbing her hand, but it was yanked away from me by Papa. “Get back from her! She doesn’t deserve our kindness. She’s no better than the dirt she sits on. She’s even worse than that. Her kind should all die!” I couldn’t hold my sobs back in anymore, his words stung.
He pulled Nana behind him and then brought up his rifle to my forehead. The cold metal barrel sat in between my eyes waiting. I stopped moving, everything seemed to go in slow motion. No, no, he wasn’t going to really shoot me, he was just trying to scare me. I scooted back on my legs away from his gun. Nana was shouting at him to stop and lower the rifle, but he just yelled over her with a ferocious roar to shut up. It was as if all life in the forest stopped, the trees weren’t swaying, no small animals moved, the wind was silent. I stared back at the stoutly man who raised the machinery to me. I slowly stood up, “Papa—!” He spat at my feet, “don’t call me any endearing terms mongrel.” I knew it was no use arguing with him anymore, but I had to get away. I had to live I made a promise to my father. I backed away slowly one baby step at a time and noticing his finger switch over to the trigger as he mounted the butt of the gun on his shoulder. The darkness all seemed to blend in as I turned around not facing my once temporary family anymore and took strides away from them. The first long step was successful, your hair was blown behind you from your fast pace. I felt my toes curl around the loose dirt with each step and releasing it along with every propulsion. The air was cold stung and dried out my throat as I huffed forward. I felt it before I heard the echo of the bang of gunfire. I held my breath upon impact as my knees skidded across the stale forest floor. Tears were rolling down my cheek, the bullet was logged in my thigh. I let out a scream that echoed enough to disturb the dead. I propped my hands in front of me and allowed the change to come over me. I had to keep going! I wasn’t dying here tonight, not tonight!
I shifted the best you could and kept thrusted off the ground running full speed. In the distant other rounds of gunshots rang out in my direction, but they became a faint echo the longer I kept going. I kept running, running for my life. The low hanging branches would graze against my side, but I didn’t want to stop. I climbed up a hill, crossed a river bank, and kept going until vision started blurring. The tall pine trees stood over me as I fell against one propping myself up. The pain was unbearable, I couldn’t even support my leg up anymore. I began limping with the leg raised but stopping at every other tree to rest.
Eleven, large grey wolves glided through the night. The sound of unison marching and panting broke the quiet night. Namjoon remained in the back while his father remained in front leading the pack. The males were out tonight monitoring the perimeter and answering the call to their wolf with the freedom to run. Namjoon remained in the back to keep track of the younger ones, not letting them deviate from the path. His father was the main alpha of the tribe, he was the Minister of Wolves. He eventually would have to take on that role also being an alpha. The hierarchy of wolfs were maintained in the blood lines and passed down through generations. Namjoon was a large, dark grey wolf that is larger than the others in his pack and the average werewolf. He was almost the spitting image of his father. The wolves ran and ran coming across nothing out of line, until they smelled me. Namjoon halted the group with a howl. He lifted his muzzle to the air and took in the scent of iron and an unfamiliar wolf. He looked towards his father and only two other betas followed him in his search. They crept and moved closer to the scent. About a quarter of a mile away, Namjoon saw the owner of the scent. I was leaning against the tree panting, sure these would be my last breathes. I finally registered that three other beings were in my area. I lifted my head to gaze at three large wolfs, the middle one was the largest. They were lowly growling in my direction. I wasn’t about to back down, even in the face of death. I shakily stood on my legs and facing their direction and changed my stance into a defensive one. I was challenging them, my rose gold eyes gleamed with anger. The largest one with bright red eyes stepped forward attempting to circle me, but I snapped and growled at him. His body language was telling me to back down and submit, but I wasn’t going to submit to anyone. When I felt he was getting too close I ran off. I didn’t get too far when I stumbled over my front paws when my hind leg gave out. I skidd across the floor in a loud yelp. The pain was too great, I had no other choice. I tried crawling away on my paws dragging my hind legs but I couldn’t gain any traction. The wolves came up behind me and the same red eyed one circled around to face my front and sat down in front of me. The others tried approaching but he just growled at them. He knew it when he first smelled it, he knew it when he got closer, and he knew it when he saw you. You were his mate.
In your tired state you still growled at him, but he wasn’t having it. He transformed into his human form and asked the others to warn his father of your presence. They left and I was left with a handsome, naked man. He came to crouch down next to me and spoke softly, “I need you to switch back. I can’t help you in this way. I won’t hurt you. I don’t know how much longer you’re going to live if you stay out here.” I didn’t want him touching me, but for some reason when he spoke to me it felt comforting. A type of safe I haven’t known in a very long time. I conceded and shifted back into my human form laying on my side. My vision was going in and out and eventually I couldn’t hear him anymore. Namjoon quick to react and picked you up bridal style avoiding your wound. He ran back to the pack covering up your chest by bringing you closer to him away from the prying eyes. His father nodded, and the pack continued forward. Namjoon ran back to the packhouse about a mile away. In between, he would take looks at you, his beautiful mate. He couldn’t make out much since it was so dark, but what he could his heart already was yours.
He made his way up to the oak tree where the whole pack hid their clothing in a container disguised as a rock. He slipped his pants on and his shirt over you. He ran through the back door of the packhouse and called for his grandmother, “Help! Please, help!”
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#bts#kpop#kpop scenarios#hybrid au#bts werewolf au#kpop werewolf au#bts shifter au#bts scenarios#BTS Namjoon#BTS RM#BTS RM x reader#BTS Namjoon scenario#BTS AU#BTS horror au#BTS angst#bts fluff#bts smut#bts smut scenarios#bts imagines#bts series#kpop hybrid au#bts hybrid au#bts alpha au#bts alphaverse#bts imagine#bts crime au#bts fantasy au#bts supernatural au#bts mythical au#bts thriller au
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8.12: Let me tell you what I understand! Some asshat pops out of my closet asking about my dad, smashes up my ride. So why am I not getting violent, again?
Sam, Dean. Meet your grandfather. And the Men of Letters.
Here’s a great little using your words scene. When Henry popped out of their closet asking for John Winchester, Sam and Dean were obviously wary of him and were’t about to start answering some stranger’s questions directly, but Henry assumed that his spell must have failed and that there’d been a mistake, He was the one intruding, yet offered no explanation to Sam and Dean, becoming hostile and assuming the worst of them:
HENRY: I'm quite certain this is all beyond your understanding, my alpha-male-monkey friend. And violence will not help you comprehend this any easier.
I mean, not exactly the best way to earn the trust of the people whose lives you’ve just invaded, right? But that superiority is pretty typical of the Men of Letters. Even the ones from back in Henry’s time.
Poor Henry learns that John is dead, just like Samuel once learned that Mary was dead. The interesting difference is in how they each reacted differently to learning those facts about their respective children far into the future.
Sam believes Henry’s story because he knows all the relevant facts about John’s early life (his birthday, where he was born), but Dean thinks all of that’s irrelevant because Henry abandoned John as a child. Sam wonders if he didn’t abandon John, but somehow came here to the future and was unable to return. Dean takes John’s side, because the story became the story, and that was the only story John really had about his real father:
DEAN : Yeah, well, either way, Dad hated the son of a bitch.
SAM : And Dad made up for that how? By being father of the year?
Henry tries to introduce himself properly after his initial insulting non-introduction, but Dean’s not having it... yet. Henry quickly learns that Sam and Dean aren’t a couple of ignorant civilians, hence my favorite gif:
I know, Dean. You’re gonna go around it a few more... I hope you’re wearing comfy shoes.
SAM : Our father taught us how to be hunters.
HENRY : [laughs] You're not. Are you? Hunters? Well, hunters are... Hunters are apes. You're supposed to – you're legacies.
And this is the early version of the modern mindset of the Men of Letters toward hunters ,and I think a LOT of the reason why they feel no qualms about just wiping all the American hunters off the board and starting over with their own brainwashed goons:
DEAN : Okay, enough with the decoder talk. How about you tell us what this whole “Men of Letters” business is, or you're on your own.
HENRY : It's none of your concern.
DEAN : Why, because we're hunters? What do you have against us?
HENRY : Aside from the unthinking, unwashed, shoot-first-and-don't-bother-to-ask-questions-later part, not much, really.
SAM : You know what? Wait a second. We're also John's children.
HENRY : You're more than that, actually. My father and his father before him were both Men of Letters, as John and you two should have been. We're preceptors, beholders, chroniclers of all that which man does not understand. We share our findings with a few trusted hunters – the very elite. They do the rest.
Dean’s incensed that Henry was willing to travel through time to protect a mysterious object he knew nothing about without question.
It takes Henry noticing John’s journal, and seeing his own initials embossed in it, to realize that he never makes it back to his own time, and Dean tells him John always thought he just ran out on him. Dean gives a rather objective rundown of John’s life:
DEAN : The hard way. Surviving a lonely childhood, a stinking war... only to get married and have his wife taken by a demon... and later killed by one himself. That man got a bum rap around every turn. But you know what? He kept going. And in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad.
HENRY : I'm sorry. I wish I had been there for him.
DEAN : Yeah, it's a little late for that now, don't you think?
DEAN gets up and walks towards the door.
HENRY : It's the price we pay for upholding great responsibility. We know that.
DEAN : Your responsibility was to your family, not some glorified book club!
HENRY : I was a legacy. I had no choice.
DEAN : Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.
Henry reads John’s journal, waits until Sam and Dean are asleep, and then goes of to try and make things right, to return to the past. Dean tracks him to the nearest shop that trades with hunters, and stops him right before he goes through the portal. Meanwhile Sam goes to talk to Larry Ganem.
Larry Ganem was convinced that all the Men of Letters were wiped out, that he was the only survivor of the entire organization.
SAM : The box. Listen, Abaddon is here, and she wants this thing. So I need to know everything there is to know about it.
LARRY: In the box is the key to every object, scroll, spell ever collected for thousands of years under one roof. It is the supernatural mother lode.
Meanwhile back with Henry and Dean:
HENRY : You cannot begin to understand how I felt after reading John's journal.
DEAN : Oh, I think I can. See, I've read that thing more times than you can imagine, and it hurts every time.
(I wonder how Mary feels having read it also...)
HENRY : Maybe so, but you didn't let him down! I did! Just like you said!
DEAN : Well, I was wrong.
HENRY : No! No, you were right. And I'm going to go back and give him the life he deserves, not the one he was forced to live.
But it’s not really possible to change the past.
DEAN : Listen, I understand that this is not your idea of a happy ending, okay, and that – that you're disappointed that me and Sam are mouth-breathing hunters. But you know what? We stopped the Apocalypse.
HENRY : If this works the way I planned, there will never be an Apocalypse to stop.
Oh, Henry. The machinations that brought on the apocalypse are so much larger than just you disappearing from John’s life...
Abaddon calls Dean offering to trade Henry and the key for Sam, or she kills him. Dean and Henry finally get to talk properly, and really begin to understand one another.
DEAN : Henry, you need to understand something. When my dad died, I couldn't save him... no matter how bad I wanted to. I never want that to happen to Sam... ever. If there's a chance that I can save him, I'm gonna do it. He's my brother. He's the only family I got.
They put on an act for Abaddon, because Henry taught Dean a few tricks-- like carving a devil’s trap into a bullet and shooting it into Abaddon’s head.
DEAN : A devil's trap carved into the bullet.
DEAN puts the bullet into a gun and hands the gun to HENRY.
DEAN : You're gonna have to get close. And "close" means it could get ugly.
HENRY : I know. But you do that for blood.
And honestly, this sounds just like Castiel’s speech at the end of 12.09:
HENRY : [smiles] I'm sorry I judged you two so harshly for being hunters. I should have known better.
SAM : About?
HENRY: You're also Winchesters. As long as we're alive, there's always hope. I didn't know my son as a man, but having met you two, I know I would have been proud of him.
Over Henry’s grave, Sam mentions the Cupid who’d told them how Heaven worked to get their parents together, and how it makes sense now knowing their family legacy with the Men of Letters, and they wonder if it would’ve changed anything if Henry had survived and gone back to raise John. But they decide to take a chance on the Bunker still standing, because they’re legacies. It’s their responsibility now.
Because they can’t go back and change the past, but they sure can take what the past left for them-- their legacy-- and make something new, and something better, that brings their entire family’s legacy together.
Men of Letters AND Hunters.
Sam and Dean are both at the same time, 2 in 1 if you will... Balanced.
#spn 8.12#s12 meta rewatch#*mittens attempts to become one with the universe amid the sea of duality*#using your words#the story became the story#winchester family dynamics#face your past head-on and find another way a better way#spn duality
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Day 1: Introducing the Farmer of your choice! (I am very late)
@stardewvalleysebastian
I am very late but I just saw these so i'm gonna do them! Every week is Stardew appreciation week) [Warning - Cussing happens]
1. First things first! What’s their name and age, is there a special significance to their name? Gush about who they are!
Brady O'Sheine, she's something like 26-28 (hello indecision!). Her full name is Bralynn, but she really kind of hates that name, so Brady is it!
Her style is pretty laidback, but she knows how to dress up.
She in the second eldest of 4 kids (and also the only girl), raised basically by a single mother and her eldest brother. She is a sassy little shit that will smack you down so hard if you try to talk shit about her or anyone she cares about, Joja like destroyed her patience and restraint so prepare to be emotionally crippled~! :D
Also, be warned, you really piss her off/do something she will start tossing around legal stuff like no tomorrow and you will leave unsettled, and unsure whether you're gonna get sued or something. (Morris should watch out)
2. What was your farmer’s life like in the city? Were they a part-timer at jojacorp, were they just fired from their dream job?
City-life was basically a lot of scrambling for money to pay bills and rent.
Her father was never really around when she was a kid, but a few months before her youngest brother was born he just completely disappeared. Of course that was also when they found how much debt he was in, so her family grew up pretty on the poor side, with her mother working three jobs and her eldest brother putting off college to take on a couple jobs of his own. This left her, as the second eldest, to take care of her little brothers (not that she really minded).
She started working in Joja's customer service during her third year of college, in an attempt to get her school loans paid off, a couple years later she got moved to telemarketing and a few more years after that she was placed in the position she had at the start of the game. During this time she graduated law school and passed the bar, but wasn't able to find any work so continued working at Joja.
3. Why did your farmer decide to leave the city?
Did your farmer have a loved one in the city? A significant other, a pet, a best friend?
She was well and thoroughly sick of Joja's by the time she finally opened the letter from her grandfather, but she didn't actually quit Joja until a few months after that. She hadn't wanted to just leave her family with one less paycheck, but her mother finally sat her down one night and told her that she didn't want her to put her life on hold, and that if she wanted to move to the Valley they would be okay. Even then, her mother's words didn't really stick until she (and her older brother) promised her that leaving wouldn't mean she was abandoning them.
Moving to Pelican Town left behind her mother (Rena) and three brothers (Emmet/Benson/Jacob), and her best friend, Emelyn.
(Funfact! Emelyn is one of my farmers too, just obviously not in Brady's world lol.)
4. How did your farmer adjust to the farming life? Was it hard to get up early in the morning, are they deeply afraid of bugs?
Slowly. And with a lot of aches.
Getting up wasn't that hard, at first. But then she actually started cleaning up the farm and planting more crops, and she'd be exhausted by the end of the day, which lead to a groggy/grumpy morning. She eventually adjusts of course, but still, she figured out pretty quick that just becoming a farmer was a lot easier said than done. It's amazing the woman didn't lose any fucking toes or fingers. Someone save poor Harvey from stupidly stubborn city-girls who think they know what the fuck they're doing (Spoiler: they don't).
She's not technically afraid of bugs, but she makes an exception for those big ass fly things in the mines, the second she hears fluttering noises she nopes the absolute fuck outta there (cue frantic pickaxe-ing in search of a ladder).
She's a real big fan of figuring out how to get a blowtorch and hauling it down, just for the, and I quote- "big swarming fluttery bitches."
First time she saw one she marched right over to the Adventurer's Guild and banged on the door until Marlon answered so that she could yell "What the actual fuck Marlon?!"
5. Who was the first townsperson to make your farmer feel at home?
Shane actually. She was coming out of Pierre's with a bag of soil while he was on his way to work, they ran into each other and the corner of his nametag ripped a hole in the bag as they backed up, spilling soil all over the two.
Cue a "holy fuck" from Brady and her trying to apologize, he tells her to fuck off and walks away. She kinda just stands there for a second, half annoyed half surprised. Up until than she'd kind of started feeling a little disenchanted with the town as everything seemed so perfect and idyllic, but for some reason the encounter finally cemented that this place wasn't just a cozy little dreamtown with no problems.
Call it a rude awakening if you want, but Brady was more than thankful for it. That night she stopped by the tavern, bought a beer and dropped it in front of Shane. Then she left without a word, smiling the whole way back to the farm and finally feeling content with her latest life-choices.
(Shane is confused lol)
6. What season is your farmer’s favorite season, and why?
Winter. Let her live for five minutes without sweating to death over a patch of fucking parsnips or pumpkins and she'll be the happiest person you've ever fucking seen.
7. What is your farmer’s most favorite thing in the whole wide world?
Family meals. The only rule in her house after her father left was that the dinner table was a safe space; no arguing, no drama, leave your stress at the door. Since her mother/brother were always working Brady decided she would be responsible for feeding everyone. She spent most of her pre-highschool years learning how to cook, so that it would be one less thing her mother/brother had to worry about, by highschool she made every meal for the family.
Her other favorite-ist things are her Grandfather's antique cutlass and spicy foods (especially wasabi).
8. Is there a favorite place your farmer likes to hang out at? If so, why?
Depends on her mood I suppose.
If she's in a good mood she'll go sit at the tavern and people watch.
If she's in a lonely/self-doubting "why did I come here what am I doing I don't know how to fucking run a farm I should have just stayed at Joja" mood at night she'll go sit(hide) in the little cave on the farm and watch the bats do their thing.
If she's in a... Hm, idek how to describe this mood exactly, a "I've done so much more than I ever expected and that's great but what's next? I feel like my whole life has just been waiting for something and I'm so tired why am I waiting? What am I waiting for? How do I get it to happen so I can stop feeling like this" mood, she'll either sit by her Grandpa's memorial (day) or go sit on the cliff with her legs swinging and just look down at the waves/water (night).
9. What song perfectly matches your farmer?
(I'm awful at these oh god) Um.. I'm gonna go with Swan by Willa.
Bonus: draw your farmer in their most iconic outfit! Or, write about their first few days on the farm!
Sim!Brady (1st outfit) - Drabble (+ Her tag)
#Stardew Valley Appreciation Week#Stardew Valley#Farmer Brady#Brady O'Sheine#this was fun~!#My characters
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