#But that. They gave me something and family is family and blood is thicker than water attitude

[lionblaze03-2]

personally I don’t hate gray wing nearly as much as everyone else because he’s a great example of having rose colored glasses just because ‘well, he’s family’, and not realizing until far too late that that essentially ruined his life and made him amount to almost nothing. Because clear sky is his brother, he wants to assume the best of him. Surely, my brother would never. Surely he didn’t mean it like that. Surely he’ll do better next time. He’s my brother. He COULDN’T be a bad guy. So he keeps giving him chances, over and over and over again, until it’s completely destroyed him. Until he can no longer breathe, his lungs full of toxic smoke that clear sky abandoned him to breathe in, until he is under his claws, nearly killed under the moonlight, until his people are battered again and again, until borders become inevitable. But he never, ever realizes, because- it’s his brother. Surely, his brother will do better next time. Surely, he didn’t mean it. Surely, he will change.

And believing that is the death of him.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiii there!

I wanted to request an oscar tully x targaryen reader maybe rhaenyras daughter please.. tbh i dont even know what it should be about i just wanted it to ba a oscar and targ reader .. thanks ☺️☺️

The river and the flame

Oscar Tully x princess!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, kissing, holding hands, no use of Y/n

Summary : A sacrifice, the only daughter of the Queen of the Black had to be married and the best match was the new young Lord of the House of Tully who promised to give his strength to the Queen. An engagement and marriage consummated, the fire finds itself in waters where both young nobles must hold each other to make it together and not burn and drown each other.

info : thank you dear anon for this request it was a lot of fun to write it have fun reading and have a nice day everyone

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With fire and strength she could have been born, but when the gods were merciful and gave her first husband something in a night of listlessness through wine and potions, the Queen of the Black conceived her fourth child from a marriage that could never have been consummated.

The queen's first and own princess was born, the little child with the image of her parents bright hair thicker than her mother's silken hair and violet eyes like gems that captured everyone. Behind her were the symbols of the dragon and so she was the only one of her siblings to keep her mother's family name, a decision that complicated things and put her three brothers in an even worse light.

But sacrifices had to be made for the princess, sacrifices in the form of "assassinations", new marriages and the retreat to Dragonstone where the faction of the blacks gathered and rebuilt over the course of weeks and months.

The legacy of the Black Dragon Queen was laid on her true daughter and two small toddlers, even though Jacaerys Velaryon was her eldest son and a young man willing to prove himself to inherit his mother's legacy, he knew he had strength in his blood, a blood that his two brothers had but not his half-siblings.

So the Targaryen family, the black party faced with serious problems Daemond in Harenhall had been trying to gather support for some time, Aegon and Viserys sent away with Rhaena but what now?

An alliance had to be forged because even if honor still prevailed houses no longer chose Viserys' side, it was about the future of families, of royalty and children, it was a decision that could mean death or life, ,,Without news from Daemon we cannot rely on the support of the Riverlands…if you allow the proposal of marriage to be made" the Master began again, who returned without his raven's message.

But she didn't even have to look up from the map to hear her mother's reply, ,,Out of the question" before Rhaenyra tried to find answers in the documents and maps, she had no one to marry but her daughter, but what mother wanted to lose her child in an area she could never get to herself.

It could mean her death but when violet eyes met there was something like hope in the princess's eyes, ,,If my queen allows me to marry the new Lord Tully I would be protected by the Prince Regent and the lords of the surrounding houses who have sworn allegiance to Oscar Tully" she gave her explanation and clasped the small metal statue of the fish they had all heard the aftermath of the death and resurrection of the head of the house and it was the only solution.

It ended in a few arguments, tears and loving gestures but now just a few days later here she was under the banner of the fish with her husband Osacr Tully, despite the fact that they were both young so appreciative of each other he had welcomed her without vourtiele was sincere and loving…and perhaps her heart had beaten faster than she thought when he had placed a kiss on her palm.

He held her hand as he showed her Riverrun, introduced her to the household, the hall and the vassals who had also proclaimed themselves for his wife, he treated her as in the songs and stories of yesteryear about noble knights, ,,My reign would not be possible without you, you are the first flame in the river and my heart rejoices more and more every day in your company my beloved," he said to her as he helped her onto one of the boats and they sailed across the river together.

She smiled back at him and gratefully held his hand, holding this little,,,nushell" quite insecurely in contrast to her grandfather's boats, but with every little jerk he held her tightly to him, his dark eyes like the river assuring her of her safety.

,,You are safe I promise" he murmured to her as he held her and she dipped her hand in the river, the wetness and coolness was pleasant instead of the everlasting heat and warmth, ,,I will follow you my lord husband" she replied after the words her mother and grandmother had taught her.

Before she felt his hand gently on her cheek it was just the two of them and the still river as they came closer and kissed again, ,,Oscar please my love" she whispered and she leaned her forehead against his for a moment as the two barely grown nobles lay in each other's arms enjoying the river ride while a joyful scream could be heard above them from time to time between the clouds and she followed Oscar's interested gaze closely.

The water, the fish, the river was her new home, which she quickly took to her heart. Her clothes, although now more of a bluish red and bronze, she kept the symbols of the dragon with her hair, brooches and Seasmoke herself.

Until she met her great-uncle again who had watched this marriage with a disdainful look and even if he didn't admit it, it offended him that his great-niece had managed the union in what he couldn't do in weeks, ,,Impressive isn't it what a princess can do with such looks and devotion, isn't it Lady Tully?" he had asked her at dinner as he sat next to her and looked into tired, almost haggard eyes that resembled her own in color.

She knew Oscar must have heard, she knew her great-uncle and her husband hated each other, didn't like the prospect of sharing power, ,,Her sacrifice to her family and the Queen towards my Targaryen wife is truly impressive she is not only in my house she is the Guardian of the Riverlands Prince Regent" Oscar said with pride in his voice as he raised his goblet and took her hand saying a good luck to Rhaenyra and his wife and she welcomed the restraint of her great uncle who would have otherwise only made things worse.

But all could not always go well only one moon later at the weirwood tree in the garden of the ruined castle Harenhall the houses of the Riverlands found themselves together with Oscar as their new lord and Daemon, a confrontation the princess attended with Seasmoke watching over the whole thing with an interested eye.

A confrontation that ended in blood as Daemond cut off Ser Willem's head ordered by Oscar whose eyes reflected fear for a moment as he looked into hers she clasped his hand the highborn couple watched this execution for all to see she felt the brief squeeze of her hand as Oscar truly saw this bloodshed for the first time.

,,You did the right thing Oscar they will follow you now and so will my great uncle…I won't let any words come back to haunt you I will stand for it" she told him as soon as everyone else had left the ruined garden and the young lord sat down by the tree still somewhat affected by the murder she felt herself almost reflexively wiping the blood away with a handkerchief before helping Oscar wipe his away.

She returned his silent thanks with a gentle kiss and the two sat there in silence until an idea came to her and she called her dragon who was struggling for space in the garden, ,,You have shown me the beauty of the water of your river let me show you the beauty of the sky" she said and climbed onto Seasmoke's back who seemed happy to be flying again.

She saw how it confused him for a moment, the boy rose and placed his hand carefully on the bright waremn scales and Seasmoke nudged him, mocking Ocsar who had been feeding the dragon fish with the help of his wife.

,,Can we fly through clouds? " Oscar asked as she saw courage and joy return to his gaze and he placed himself behind her, his grip on her stomach tightened and she heard his cry as Seasmoke took off with a scream and seemed to disappear into the smoke of his fire in the air.

She put one hand on Oscar's while with the other she gently guided Seasmoke, knowing that Oscar didn't understand her she would one day teach him, ,,I'll fly through anything you want look at this peace and quiet" she said louder over the sound of the loud flapping of wings and Seasmoke's hissing she heard Oscar slowly relax and hug her, laughing happily as he too saw this special something she could see every day.

Up here there didn't seem to be any problems it was quiet not too hot or too cold and peaceful, ,,It's incredibly beautiful" he mumbled continuing to hold on to her fetus as she headed for the clouds and he hesitantly held out a hand and gasped as his fingers got wet and showed her like a little child enjoying a wooden swing but she did the same and they joined hands and flew through the clouds for hours.

She heard his thanks and praise every now and then, a kiss on her cheek and both their hearts beat together in peace as they found beauty in each other's homes, together in love that would go beyond war.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[drvscarlett]

About You Pt5

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

About You Series 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

A/N: and its a double update!!! im showcasing a lot of side characters that will eventually be a huuuuge part of the plot (winks). also the brewing tension. let me know what you folks think about this

Taglist: @spideybv28 @randomcuboidshape @mehrmonga @casperlikej @cliosunshine @honethatty12 @randomgirlnumber-13 @sugyomama @ririyulife @skywalker1dream @vicurious28 @cristianovettel @callsignwidow @gothicwidowsworld

2010, Istanbul Park

The necklace sits heavy on Y/N's neck. She had been fiddling with it the whole morning. There was something about the internal and unspoken pressure happening in the Red Bull garage ever since both of their drivers tied their points for the championship. She have heard more conversations here and there about who would Red Bull side with, their older driver or the rookie.

It was very stressful for Y/N to spend time with the two drivers involved with the discussions.

"Nervous?" Sebastian noticed.

"Can't help it" she gave a weak smile.

"For me or for Mark?"

Y/N had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. As if she hasn't had enough of this whole which driver would you pick to side on. She just gestured that her lips are sealed meaning that she won't take anyone's side.

"Stop trying to get my sister on your side" Mark apparently overheard the conversation "Blood runs thicker than water, am i right sis?"

"I'm not gonna comment on that"

"See what you are doing to my sister, you are ruining this family Seb" Mark overdramatically reacts

"Your sister is my bestfriend, get over it" Sebastian rebutted.

Bestfriend.

And just like that, there was a pang in Y/N's heart. Maybe another factor of the heavy feeling is that she has been doing her best to bury her feelings for Sebastian. But after the whole Monaco pre-birthday thing, every effort that she has to bury her feelings is thrown out of the window. She was hopelessly inlove with the man and Sebastian was very blind about it.

"Just have a good race, okay?"she reminded the two.

"I think we will score some good points today" Sebastian confidently stated.

"That's the fighting spirit" Mark cheered on.

It was moments like this that Y/N was reminded that the two Red Bull drivers are not fighting each other as the team pictured them to be. They may showcase competitiveness during the races but that's just normal. Outside the track, the two share a very friendly atmosphere with each other.

Soon, the two set off to go their respective cars. Y/N watched the race outside of the driver's room for a change. Ever since, she started to hear the gossiping of the Red Bull crew about Seb and Mark, she opted to be more around them. She wanted to know what they are saying to warn the drivers or make a possible plan on how to resolve if ever the situation escalates.

The race started out well with Mark leading comfortably. Sebastian was behind and Lewis was next. It was going really well for Mark and if Y/N have to say it then he might win another race. Sebastian, on the other hand, has been challenged by the two McLarens of Hamilton and Button.

Then it happened all so quickly.

Y/N let out a gasp as the two Red Bull drivers crashed with each other. One was sent down to the gravel while the other managed to push back to the track. Y/N was too focused that she didn't notice that the cameras were pointed at her.

'Y/N Webber

Mark Webber's sister and assistant, Sebastian Vettel's bestfriend.'

The whole garage was in shambles as the radio messages from Sebastian sounds really angry. The amount of swear words in the radio was a stark difference from the jolly Sebastian that she was speaking to a couple of minutes ago. Y/N looked worriedly as Sebastian goes to the stewards.

"It was Vettel's fault"

"No, Mark Webber wasn't looking and giving him space"

"That's stupid, it was clearly Sebastian Vettel's fault"

Watching the replays, Y/N hates to admit it but this one is on Sebastian. She could hear the discussion even becoming more rampant as Sebastian reaches the garage.

A permanent scowl graces his face as he talks to Helmut and Christian about the incident that occurred. Y/N followed to check up on him and she can't help but overhear the conversation.

"That was not right, this shouldn't have happened" Christian lectures "It will cost us a lot of points with the two McLaren looking for two podium finish today"

"Don't look and point fingers at me, I'm not the only one who crashed" Sebastian clearly not thinking his words through.

"Sebastian this should never happen again, understood?" Christian firmly ordered

"But it isn't right to blame Sebastian, the boy is right there were two of them there" Helmut comes to the defense of Sebastian "It was clear that Mark did not make way for him resulting to the crash"

Y/N felt herself getting red. It was clear as a day that the crash was not caused by Mark. It was getting clearer for her that someone has been playing favorites.

"See, you better have word with Mark" Sebastian said.

"Unbelievable" Y/N muttered.

She was taught that if she couldn't say anything good then she probably shouldn't say anything at all so she walks away. She decided not to show herself even after Mark got a podium finish.

Her sudden disappearance did not go unnoticed but Sebastian just let her be.

2010, Silverstone Circuit

Things at Red Bull garage has gone from bad to worse. It was difficult now to hang out with Mark or Sebastian as the two drivers have intended everything to be a competition. Y/N didn't want to see any part of this which is why she is currently doing babysitting duties at Mercedes.

It was a weird set-up seeing how one of Red Bull's employee is staying at the pristine white facility of Mercedes—she sticks out like a sore thumb. But Mick Schumacher only wants Y/N to be with him as he watches his father race. It has always been that case ever since Y/N met Mick when he was around 4 years old.

"Y/N, are you not scared for your brother and Seb?" Mick asked as the two of you watched the cars go out for the formation lap.

"I used to be scared" she still is "But its something that they love"

"Mama says Papa gives her a lot of stress when he races. I hope there is no aksident"Mick's tone was with a slight worry.

"Your Papa will be okay, he is a legend"Y/N assures.

The cars are now slowly lining up to the starting grid. Sebastian was on pole while Mark was the 2nd one so they were sharing a Red Bull front row. It only made Y/N worry even more because race starts are quite chaotic here in Silverstone.

"Mark and Seb must be really lucky to be at the front"Mick commented

"I sure hope so"

The lights started flashing and the infamous lights out and away we go went off. It was indeed chaotic at the start with Sebastian and Mark neck to neck with each other. They were both trying to take the lead even if it means pushing the other off track.

"OH FUCK" Y/N immediately covered the ears of Mick as the collision was broadcasted.

Mark managed to go through but Sebastian had puncture. The German was obviously mad for losing crucial places.

"What happened Y/N to Mark and Seb, I thought they are teammates" was the confused question of Mick.

She sighs. Her thoughts are echoing what Mick just said. What happened to them.

"Mick,they are still teammates its just that they also have to compete with each other. Its a sports and sometimes we lose,sometimes we win"Y/N tried to explain it to 10-year-old Mick.

She could already imagine the chaos in the Red Bull garage. She hears the commentaries that maybe this was Webber's revenge for Istanbul. The headache that will emerge for her after this whole race will be very difficult to ignore.

"Y/N if I become an f1 driver,would you come see me?"Mick asked

Its like heaven sent an angel in the form of Mick for Y/N. When she hears him talk it feels as if the world is slightly a little simpler and better. How she wish she lives in that same bubble as Mick.

"I won't crash, I promise"Mick added

Young Mick is still very young but he really dreams to be a Formula 1 driver like his father. Y/N could feel grey hairs developing if she sees Mick in an F1 car.

"Of course Mick"

"Good"Mick grinned "Oh look Y/N your brother is leading! Go Mark Webbahhhhhh"

The cheers of the little Schumacher made Y/N grin. She will deal with all the Red Bull stress later.

2010, Hockenheimring

Usually, Y/N likes getting her coffee at the catering but she doesn't feel like interacting with any Red Bull team for this morning. This is why the Webber girl is seen queuing up in a local Starbucks.

She was just about to sit down and wait for her coffee when a random man bumped her. It sent all her paper flying and Y/N could only grumble since the man didn't even look at her to help.

"Some people these days lack manners"she huffed in frustration.

It was a good thing that someone was helping her picking up the paper. She looked at the bracelets adorning her wrist and the long blonde hair tied up into a bun, thank God for a woman.

"Thank you so much for helping me" Y/N started "You really didn't have to"

"Nonsense, it will be rude to just stare at you picking up your papers"the woman has a thick German accent, similar to Sebastian.

She is probably local, Y/N thinks.

"Still thank you" Y/N politely insisted "Do you want to sit with me, the whole cafe is full"

"Of course"

Y/N wasn't usually chatty but the woman is very comfortable to talk to. She mentioned that she was a local but she lives a bit far from here and that she was only here for the weekend. Y/N shared how she is also here for the weekend.

"Wait are you going to watch Formula 1?" she quizzed

Y/N was about to answer when she heard the call of the barista. he quickly picked up her coffee and went back to her new friend.

"No way, you are Y/N?THE Y/N Webber?" the girl repeated.

Y/N chuckled. It wasn't usual that she has been recognized by formula 1 fans. She felt red as she admits that she is a bit flattered that she knows her name.

"I didn't know I am famous around here"Y/N joked

"Sebastian always talks about you, I was really looking forward to see you later at the garage"

Oh? Y/N thinks there is only one Sebastian that she knows.

"My name is Hanna, Hanna Prater" she introduced "I'm Sebastian's childhood bestfriend"

2010, Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps

Sebastian was bitter. He felt as if he lost a golden opportunity by not being able to score any points today. He is so bitter that he choose not to celebrate with the team tonight and he intended to stay holed up in his hotel room.

However, after a while,he grew tired of the hotel room walls so he ended up walking at the rooftop of the hotel.

Only,he wasn't the only one there.

"Hey stranger" he called out "I haven't seen you in Red Bull garage for a while"

Y/N turned around and she smiled when she met his eyes.

He doesn't understand how she does it but everything seems to melt in the background when she does this. It felt like he was back in his rookie days when they met up at the rooftops and talk for hours. It was much more simpler back then.

"I have been busy.. socializing" Y/N replied.

They both know that was a lie. Y/N was obviously using socializing as a front when in truth is she doesn't like to mingle with the toxicness of the Red Bull garage. But, Sebastian lets it slide.

"Is it bad that I missed you and I want you to stay at the garage?"Sebastian popped the question out of the blue.

"I'll be there as Mark's sister and his assistant, I don't think it will work well with the situation" Y/N informed.

There it goes again. This was that line that Sebastian has been hindering him to confess or ask her out.

It felt so stupid that he can flirt with anyone with ease but when it comes to Y/N, its so hard.He shouldn't have been scared of Mark, he is never scared of Mark (and it shows multiple times on track). But the thing that Sebastian knows is that Y/N has high regards for her brother and Sebastian didn't want to put a strain in their family.

"How are you feeling with the race today?"Y/N asked, diverting the topic.

"I could have been better." Sebastian sighs "Maybe I should train over and over again"

"Don't push yourself, you are still in the pool for the championship" Y/N assures

The championship. It's everything that Sebastian has ever thought of lately. Its within his reach and he really wants to extend a lead with it but somehow its not working. He really thinks that there is a high possibility that he can get his first championship this year.

"The championship must feel really nice" Y/N comments as she observes the smile on Sebastian's face

"I mean that's why were all racing dangerously" Sebastian chuckles.

No sane man would want to race in harsh conditions or beyond normal speed limit without any incentives.

"Just don't lose yourself"Y/N said "I worry about you Seb"

He acknowledges that. He is not dumb that the Red Bull crew has been pitting him and Webber against each other. In the end, it places a pressure on both of them to perform well because all that Red Bull cares about is who will bring the victory. The more likely victor will be the more favored one.

"We'll be alright" Sebastian comforts.

Even if this is all a lie, the two finds that comfort and repeat it to themselves. Maybe if they repeat it a lot then maybe it will end up coming true.

[laylasredemption]

Wtf so I now can post long fics? Well, thanks Tumblr I guess the beef between us didn't last long. Here's the sad Arthur fic I wrote, hope you like it guys<3

arthur morgan x dutch's daughter!reader 3,9k words chapter 6 spoilers, death, violence

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Until the last breath

Never in a thousand years would have Dutch van der Linde thought his own daughter would betray him. He would suspect anyone - recently even John or Arthur. But not [Y/n]. She was his daughter, his only child, the only thing he had left of Annabelle.

And yet there she stood - a gun in hand, pointed at her father, who had his own guns pointed at Arthur and John.

"You're on these two rats' side? That's what I get for raising you?" Dutch asked, his angry gaze fixated on his daughter. "You ungrateful brat."

"You didn't raise me!" [Y/n] countered. "Hosea was more of a father than you. To you, money has always been more important. You always had a plan to get more, and more, and more. I'd be in Tahiti if I had a dollar for every plan of yours that didn't work out."

"I gave you everything I could!"

"You gave me everything?" She had to stop herself from scoffing. "I spent my whole life trying to make you happy for once. Trying to make you proud of me. I gave my heart and my soul for this gang, and you ruined it all when you took in this rat!" Her voice started to crack, but she forced tears away. She reached for her other gun and pointed it at Micah.

Dutch asked, "You really think Micah is the reason you're turning on me?" His tone was strangely calm, too calm. "You think I never noticed the way you and Arthur were plotting something behind my back? But, of course, he didn't sneak into your tent at night just to plot. You disgust me, [Y/n]."

[Y/n]'s mouth fell slightly open as she attempted to form a sentence, and yet she wasn't able to. How did he find out? She thought her and Arthur had been sneaky enough.

"You lost your mind, Dutch," Arthur spoke up, "we were worried about you."

Dutch turned his eyes to Arthur, his anger growing at the man's comment. "I'm the one who gave all of you a home! A purpose! A damn family! And you had the nerve to get with my daughter behind my back, and turn her against me."

"All these years, Dutch..." Arthur shook his head. "Just to waste it for this snake?"

"Be quiet, Black Lung." Micah said, his gun pointed at Arthur.

"No," miss Grimshaw appeared with her rifle pointed at Micah, "you be quiet, mister Bell. And put that gun down."

It escalated in a moment. Micah pulled the trigger, sending a bullet towards miss Grimshaw. He took the last remaining mother figure [Y/n] had. Miss Grimshaw was a cold woman, but she cared for her, she cared for all the girls. And now she was dead.

But there was no time to dwell on that.

"Pinkertons are coming!" Javier ran up to the group, warning them.

"Now," Dutch spoke way too calmly for [Y/n]'s liking, "who amongst you is with me, and who is betraying me?"

"Bill, Javier, think for yourselves." Arthur spoke, but they didn't listen.

The both of them were too blinded by the doomed loyalty to Dutch. They sided with him, while Arthur was left with just [Y/n] and John. Besides them, there was also Micah and his own friends he had brought to the gang recently. They were outnumbered.

"My own flesh and blood has turned against me." Dutch concluded in a cold voice [Y/n] hadn't heard before. He had never been a good father, but now... his transformation was complete. The man who had once been a leader, had been replaced by a ghost of himself, driven by greed and paranoia

"You brought it upon yourself." [Y/n] spat.

Micah sneered, "And here I was thinking blood runs thicker than water. Seems a good fuck can change a lady's mind so easily. Wouldn't suspect that of cowpoke, but seems this day is full of surprises."

[Y/n] winced at Micah's remark. She wanted nothing more than to shoot him then and there.

And she tried to. But her hands were trembling with anger, and she missed.

"Put your guns down!" An unknown voice yelled out.

The pinkertons. They ran into the camp, or whatever was left of it, and started shooting. The Pinkertons had arrived, their shouts and gunfire piercing through the madness. The world started to crash down. [Y/n], Arthur, and John found places to use as a cover. The girl didn't even care what would happen with her father now. She had to focus on the pinkertons.

After a few minutes, when the trio knew they won't get out of it this way, John called out, "[Y/n], Arthur, into the caves!"

They didn't think twice before running inside the cave, following the gloomy and scary passages. The pinkertons ran after them and [Y/n] hoped John was leading them to some second entrance. They couldn't afford hitting a dead end.

"Micah was a rat, Milton told me." Arthur confessed as they kept running.

"We should've let him rot in that jail in Strawberry." [Y/n] thought out loud.

There was a ladder, leading them upwards. And another one, and a third one. As the surroundings started to become lighter with the outside's air, [Y/n] thought they might be getting out of that cave before the pinkertons get them.

"John," Arthur turned to his friend when the trio reached fresh air finally, "Abigail is safe, Jack too. They're with Sadie." Then he turned to [Y/n], and tried to stop a cough before speaking to her, "You, [Y/n], I want you to go and–"

"Go where?" The girl interrupted him. "Go and do what?"

"We have to separate here. John and I will go this way, you'll go join Sadie."

In the meantime, John called for their horses. Except that [Y/n]'s didn't come, which could only mean one thing.

"They killed her..." [Y/n] mused, and for a moment she couldn't fight the urge to cry. A few tears had escaped. "Now I have to go with you."

But, again, there was no more time to think. They mounted their horses, Arthur insisting [Y/n] rides with John in case they had to go separate ways. She didn't mount John's horse, she sat on the back of Arthur's. She knew that he knew there was no time to argue.

And they ran again. Ran, followed by the bullets shot by Dutch, Micah, Bill, Javier, and those men Micah brought to the gang. Dutch van der Linde was many things, and he never played the role of the father well, but even now [Y/n] was shocked to see him chasing after them, not afraid of the risk to shoot his own daughter.

When they escaped them, they kept running into the pinkertons. They seemed to be everywhere, as if they knew their next moves.

The trio tried to escape running up a mountain, but they were stopped. [Y/n] saw John falling off his horse, and no sooner the same happened to herself and Arthur.

"Buell!" The girl called out, seeing the animal lying on the ground with a bullet wound. "These motherf–"

They had to shoot now. There was no way out if they didn't kill all those pinkertons. And, fueled by the rage, [Y/n] felt as if she could shoot them all by herself. Hell, she would gladly choke all of them with her bare hands if she got the chance.

"Come on!" John called out after they have dealt with pinkertons. He knew this wouldn't last long.

[Y/n] ran up to Arthur, who was kneeling next to Buell, gently petting the horse's mane. The girl didn't even get to be with her mare when she got killed, so she had to be at least with Buell.

"Let's go!" John repeated.

"Give us a moment!" Arthur shouted back.

[Y/n] touched the horse gently and Arthur leaned over his head. This was such a heartbreaking thing to witness. Arthur received this horse from a man who had lost his leg in the war. Found him randomly in the woods, when the horse bucked him off and his leg got stuck in a stirrup. Arthur helped him and became friends, visiting from time to time. They went hunting once, and the veteran got attacked by a giant boar. With his last breath, he asked Arthur to take care of Buell. And Arthur did, until the horse's last breath, too.

With one last final, "Thank you," that Arthur whispered to Buell, they were ready to run further.

"Let's go." John said for the third time.

Arthur asked, "What about the money?"

"Money?" [Y/n] sobbed, wiping away a few last tears. "What about Micah? We have to get rid of him."

"I go down there, I'm dead in five minutes," John stated, "I have a family, that's more important."

"You're right," Arthur admitted, thinking John must be making sense for the first time in his life, "[Y/n], you go with John. I'm going back for the money."

"No, you're not." The girl protested firmly. She wasn't losing Arthur, not like that. "We go together or we don't go at all."

Arthur knew it was pointless to argue with [Y/n]. If she inherited anything from Dutch, it was the subborness.

Arthur also knew that he didn't have much longer left. He was actively dying from tuberculosis that he hasn't even told [Y/n] about yet. If soon he was going to take his last breath, he wanted [Y/n] to go, not see him like this. He had always been a tough man, he couldn't let the girl he loved more than anything in the world see him die beaten by a stupid illness. "Fine, let's go." He muttered and the trio started once again running. He had no idea how to get out of this. There was no way out for him, but he still could help [Y/n] and John.

They needed to find a higher ground, running up a mointain. It was very steep, they had to be careful. At least they knew they were safe from the bullets, for now. The pinkertons would come back to the cave, as Micah most likely told them about the money hidden inside.

"Keep, pushing, Arthur!" John said.

Arthur stopped running. He stood bent slightly, propping his arms on his knees. It seemed to [Y/n] like he has difficulty to take a breath. An expression of worry grew on her face. She knew he had some kind of sickness, but she didn't realize how serious it was until this moment.

"Arthur, let's go, we've made it so far." She said, the tears threatening to appear in her eyes once again.

"I think I've pushed all I can." Arthur admitted, coughing out some blood. He straightened his posture, being able to breathe a bit better momentarily.

John walked up to him, "We ain't got time for this."

"We ain't all gonna make it."

His words hit [Y/n] worse than any bullets. She ran up to Arthur, grabbing his arm, trying to make him step forward.

"Don't talk nonsense," she tried to pull him, but even in this state he was still stronger than her, "Arthur, I'm not going anywhere without you."

"You both go." Arthur insisted. "I'll hold them off. There ain't no more time to talk." With these words, he reached for his sachel and handed it over to John. Then, he took his hat off and placed it on [Y/n]'s head.

She knew what that mean. She knew Arthur was prepared to die. But she couldn't let him. She couldn't imagine a life without him. He truly was the love of her life, how was she supposed to keep going if he died on that mountain?

Arthur turned to [Y/n], his eyes softening as he took her face in his hands. "You need to keep going, no matter what happens. You understand?"

[Y/n] shook her head, tears welling up again. "Don't talk like that, Arthur. We're getting out of this. All three of us."

But Arthur knew better. He could feel the life slipping away from him with every breath, every step. "I need you to promise me something, [Y/n]."

"No, Arthur, no." She closed her eyes, hoping this would at least stop the tears.

"Look at me," Arthur said, gently placing his thumb on her chin and tilting her head up, "look at me, doll."

She slowly did as she was told, opening her eyes to meet his. Her heart was racing, knowing that these might be the last moments they have together. His gaze was full of love, as if in these seconds he wanted to love her for all the time he won't be able to in the future.

"You've been the light in my life, the good in me." Arthur told her.

"You've been my everything." She whispered, the lump in her throat making it difficult to speak.

"You get out of here with John. When I'm gone, you'll find a good man, one that'll give you the life you deserve. You're young, you can start a family, forget about me. I don't know what I did to deserve your love, but it's the time you bless someone worthy with it."

[Y/n] shook her head, her hands gripping Arthur's coat as if she could somehow anchor him to this world, keep him from fading away. "I'll never forget you. You're the love of my life."

"You deserve so much more than this life, [Y/n]. More than what I could ever give you. But you can still have it. You can still have everything you want, a future, a family, happiness."

But [Y/n] was stubborn, as always. "There's no future if you're not in it."

For a moment, Arthur looked as though he might break, as though he might give in to the desire to stay with her, to fight for a few more moments together. She tried to kiss him, and it took all the strenght his ill body had to stop her.

"I love you, [Y/n]," sounded his final words, "I love you more than anything in this world. But you have to go. For me. I'll love you till my last breath."

"And I'll love you until mine," that was the only thing she could promise him, "I'll never forget you."

The sound of gunshots echoed nearby, and the trio knew there was no more time. [Y/n] would trade anything to have a few more minutes with Arthur. She would walk down to Hell to speak to the Devil himself if he could grant her a bit more time.

John grabbed [Y/n], as much as it pained him, he had to drag her away. They had to run. That's what Arthur wanted.

As she was being dragged away, [Y/n] watched Arthur climb, trying to reach an even higher spot of the mountain.

"Arthur is doing this so you can live. Don't let it be for nothing." John said.

[Y/n] didn't reply. They had to make an escape, and they did so in silence, but the girl didn't even feel her own legs, she just trusted they were there. There was no life for her if Arthur died. This life had been all she knew. How she was supposed to live without the gang, and without him?

"John." She said firmly, somehow finding the strenght in herself to not cry anymore. "I'm going back there."

[Y/n] had been hit by the realization that she doesn't have anything to lose. Everything she had, she already either sacrificed or lost. Her mother, the gang, her father, her horse, and now Arthur, her Arthur.

John stopped dead in his tracks, turning around to face [Y/n]. "No, you ain't."

"I ain't got nothing to lose. Either I'll be dragging his dead body to the pearly gates and bribing the God to revive him, or I'll die there with him."

John looked into her eyes just to see fire in them. He understood her love for Arthur and her desperation to save him, and maybe he would have even done the same for Abigail. Except it was plain stupid to do such thing for a man, who was already dying.

"Damn it," John muttered, knowing he can't stop her, "you're as brave as you're stupid. The both of you."

[Y/n] took off Arthur's hat that he had given her, and passed it to John. "You're the best brother I could've had. When I die, I'll look up at you and expect to see you treating Jack and Abigail well. No more running away."

"You mean look down." He corrected her.

"Oh, I'm definitely going to Hell. And I'll be waiting for you, just wait at least fifty years." She chuckled and pulled John in for a quick hug. When they pulled away, she could see tears in his eyes. But [Y/n] wasn't going to cry, not anymore.

She had no reason to cry now. Her time was over. If Arthur was going to die, she was dying there with him, and she was ready for this. More ready than for a future without him.

"Take care of your family," [Y/n]'s last words for John sounded, "make sure they get the life they deserve. Make sure you get that life, too." And with that, she turned away and walked back to where Arthur was supposed to be.

John nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He knew he would carry this moment with him for the rest of his life. The night he had lost the two people who were like siblings to him. He had lost much more, but it didn't matter.

[Y/n] had nothing left to lose, nothing left to live for but this one last act of love. If she could save Arthur, it would be worth it. And if she couldn't... then at least they would die together, side by side, as they should have lived.

There were no more gunshots to follow, not a sound of any fight. [Y/n] climed up the rocks, finding the path where she had last seen Arthur. She saw someone walking her way, not someone who she yearned to see.

"You goddamn rat!" [Y/n] yelled as she grabbed Micah by his coat. She didn't know where she found this strenght in her body, but she managed to throw him such a powerful punch in the face that he had to take a few steps back, almost falling off a cliff.

"You just won't give up, will you?" He said, his usual malice still audible in his voice.

"Did you kill him?" She asked, pointing her gun at him.

"He's alive. Not for much longer though."

[Y/n] clenched her jaw, her grip on the gun tightening so hard her knuckles went white. She felt her anger building up inside her, threatening to explode at any moment. "I should've put a bullet in your head a long time ago."

"Come on, do it now then," he laughed, the sound getting into [Y/n]'s head as she contemplated the decision, "we both know you're too soft to do it. How can such a failure be Dutch's daughter? I bet your mama wasn't the most loyal to your daddy."

That was it, her breaking point. [Y/n] knew putting a bullet in Micah wouldn't fix what was already broken, but at least she could stop any further damage he would cause if he stayed alive.

[Y/n] pulled the trigger, aiming for Micah's head, right between his eyes. His body fell down the cliff, and [Y/n] watched that happen. She felt absolutely nothing. No remose. But also no ease. Not until she could see Arthur.

She ran towards where Micah came from. She found Arthur lying down, his upper body propped on a rock. His face was turned towards the east, looking at the sunrise, even though he had always loved the sunset.

"Arthur..." She said.

His eyes searched for the source of the sound, Arthur thought he was having hallucinations. He forced a smile on his beaten face when he saw her.

"You damn fool, [Y/n]." He said in a weak, raspy voice. Not the kind of rasp [Y/n] loved to hear in the mornings, but the one that emphasized Arthur's condition. "I told you to go with John."

"I couldn't leave you, Arthur." She said, losing all her power to not cry. She knelt down beside him, looking at his injuries. His face was full of little cuts and bruises, some blood. But he didn't seem to have gotten shot.

Tears shone in her eyes. And she must have been the most beautiful thing Arthur had ever laid his eyes on. The way the orange morning sunrays touched her face made Arthur feel butterflies in his stomach. It was way nicer to die when he had this sight in front of him. But it wasn't fair to her.

"Doll," he breathed out, "I'm dying."

"No, you're going to be fine." She stuttered, the pain in her voice betraying how delusional she was being. She couldn't accept the reality of the situation. She refused to believe that the man she loved more than anything was slipping away from her.

She took his hands in hers. His touch used to be so hot it could put the Devil to shame. But now his hands were colder than the coldest night in Colter.

"I've got tuberculosis." Arthur confessed to her finally.

"What?" A puzzled expression appeared on her face. "Since when?"

"Since I killed Thomas Downes."

[Y/n]'s heart dropped. She had heard rumors about the sickness, the way it slowly drained the life out of a person, but she never imagined that Arthur, her Arthur, had been battling it all this time. It explained so much, the coughing fits, the way he had grown weaker, more distant. And yet, he had never told her, never let on just how bad it was.

"I deserved to know." She replied, her voice cracking. "I could've helped you."

"I didn't want to worry you, doll. Didn't want you to see me like this. You deserved better than that."

"I loved you, I still do, and I would've stayed by your side no matter what. You should've told me. We could–" She choked on her words, realizing there was nothing they could've done to stop it.

A small, sad smile tugged at the corner of Arthur's lips. "You've always been too good for me, [Y/n]. I ain't ever deserved you, not really."

"Don't say that, Arthur. You deserve everything. And now you're dying here. Alone."

"I ain't alone." Arthur murmured, his voice growing weaker with every word. "You're here, right? That's all I ever needed."

She nodded, her heart breaking as she watched him struggle to keep his eyes open. The sunrise was casting a warm glow over his face, and for a moment, [Y/n] could almost pretend that they were somewhere else, somewhere safe, where they could live the life however they wanted to. Away from all the bullshit they had to go through.

But reality was cold and its walls were closing in on them. She could feel Arthur slipping away, his fingers holding onto hers weaker with each passing moment. She wanted to scream, to beg for more time, but it would be in vain.

Arthur stopped fighting the urge to close his eyes. "Promise me, doll... you'll find a way to live... without me." He could barely speak anymore, yet he managed to utter these words.

"I love you, Arthur." [Y/n] said instead, because she didn't want to make a promise she couldn't keep.

His grip on her hands loosened, and his chest rose and fell one last time. [Y/n] leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. She held him close, cradling his head in her arms as they were bathed in the warmth of the sunrise. She stayed like that, long after he was gone, her tears mixing with the blood and dirt on his skin. Arthur was gone, and with him, a part of her died too. She had nothing left to lose, nothing left to fight for, except the memory of the man she loved.

[glossgojo]

pretty boy

carmen berzatto x mafia boss reader

excerpt from my full one-shot on ao3

MINORS DNI: violence, carmy cleans up your wounds, AFAB reader, smut, p in v, no protection, cream pie, carmy has to make it fit 😵‍💫, riding, rushed and desperate, all in his tiny office, set in s1

the week was eventful, you had scars to show it. one of your men had gotten out of line, selling drugs on the side to kids and you had to take action, of course with everyone’s approval. since he was part of your family you would deal with it, the guy didn’t take it well even trying to stab you and missing your scalp but grazing it in the process. in the end you had won, the body disposed of in the river as was custom for disgraced members. your body still ached but it didn’t stop you from visiting the beef the day after.

the cut was stitched up, covered in bandage. the members were laying low following the event, there was going to be a meeting to discuss how it could happen. carmy had noticed that the shop was less busy today, the street still safe but no suited men in sight.

and then he saw you walk in, still beautiful as ever but an unmistakable bandage on your forehead and his stomach flipped. without thinking twice he crossed from behind the counter to where you stood, anxiety bubbling up his throat, burning his insides as he spoke up.

“what happened?” his hands were on his hips, he almost looked angry and for some reason it bothered you. his eyes bore down at you, making you grimace.

“i don’t like lying carmy and you’re not gonna like the answer.” you muttered, eyes looking away. this would be it, he’d think you were too much and too scary and cast you away. carmy took in your dejected expression, combed his fingers through his hair and thought about your words before responding.

“fuck fine, but you’re okay right?” you lifted your head, taking in how crystal eyes scanned your face, his tattooed hand leaving his hip and a finger hovering over where your bandage was.

“yeah i’m okay.” you gave him a small smile and it quelled some of the burning in carmy’s gut. he motioned towards an empty booth, he knew how to get rid of the rest of the feeling. he could take care of you the only way he knew how.

“sit let me grab you something to eat.” before you could argue, he was flying back to the kitchen and you were grateful for the lack of patrons. you felt less guilty in stealing his time. maybe ten minutes had passed before a grilled chicken breast, mashed potatoes, and greens were in front of you. steam rose from the food, aroma rising with it and you felt a surge of hunger. carmy took a seat across from you, setting down a glass of water for you as he did.

“you made this?” you were a little bit stunned, not able to remember the last time someone outside of family cooked for you without being paid for it.

“uh huh, try it.” you dug in, grinning and groaning at the flavors on your tongue and carmy was reeling from your reaction. his anxiety was fading away, instead now his blood rushing, he could hear your gleeful sounds.

“this is seriously so good, did you try some?” he shook his head and you just wouldn’t have that. if the table wasn’t so wide you would’ve fed him yourself but instead passed the plate to him. he cut up a piece of chicken and added mashed potatoes before biting down. you watched the fork enter and unabashedly stared at his fingers, they looked so much larger and thicker around the utensil than yours. and the same fingers were moving to cut more pieces, cutting the green beans into chunks before pushing the plate back to you. you watched in awe as he slowly chewed on his bite, trying to figure out why he had just cut your food up for you. did you look helpless? was this the special treatment he was talking about? surely he didn’t see you as a cute little puppy needing affection and care. you were more than that, you had to prove it. you watched him swallow down and then took a bite of your own.

carmy couldn’t help the twitch in his pants when he noticed you suck on the fork a little bit longer than needed as you slid the utensil between your lips. was he imagining things? you finished your food with as much pleasure at the first few bites, never getting tired of the flavors and textures on your tongue. carmy had been watching you, even passing you water when you hadn’t drank it in a while. as he watched you eat, his anxiety was practically washed away and what was left was his stomach coiling in an entirely different way. you dropped your fork after setting it down and swiping it off the table with your sleeve, both of you ducked under to retrieve. you strained your arm to reach the fork and when you came up your forehead grazed the table corner. it wouldn’t have been an issue if not for your wound. almost instantly two things happened, you winced and clutched your forehead and carmy rounded to your side and kneeled in front of you to check your wound.

“lemme see.” his hand covered yours, your eyes shutting in pain as you moved you hand away. carmy sucked in a breath as he saw blood stain the bandage. “i got first aid in my office come with me.” you nodded, he stood up and offered his hand to you. one hand in his, carmy led you to his office. you clutched the damp bandage against your head using your other hand and tried to ignore the throbbing feeling.

carmy sat you down on his desk, shoving away some papers and angling his desk lamp up at your face. the office space was cluttered and small, you felt so close to carmy as he grabbed the first aid from a drawer and set it next to your thigh. in this office your breath was becoming his and his scent was overwhelming you, a mix of spices, cigarettes, sweat, and aftershave that made your head spin further. he removed your bandage, seeing a pill of blood pooling behind it and quickly soaked it up with a cotton pad, he put antiseptic on a q-tip and cleaned up the skin surrounding the wound before reapplying a clean bandage. carmy did his best not to think about how you got such a cut or why it needed stitches. all he could do was focus on fixing what he could. you watched him work, silent besides the puffs of air, his hair was cascading onto his forehead, his arms tense as he cleaned you up. mostly you couldn’t ignore how his jaw ticked and his brows got more furrowed.

“what are you thinking about?” you murmured almost a whisper, not wanting to disturb his peace.

“the fucker who did this.” he seemed satisfied with his handiwork, pulling back a little, hand still on your cheek as he made sure your wound wasn’t still bleeding through the bandage.

“he got it worse.” you pressed a kiss to the palm of the hand that was tilting your chin up. and carmen berzatto almost lost his remaining marbles at the action. without thinking about it, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, careful to not bump his head against yours and you gasped at the feeling. you hadn’t expected him to make a move, fully prepared to do it yourself. his lips were much softer against yours than you expected. the way he moved was careful and sweet but you wanted more. you wound your fingers around his apron tie and tugged it, pulling you closer against him and licking at his lips against you. the action made carmy lose his senses, immediately reacting to you by wedging himself between your legs and pulling you closer by your hips, now filling the small space between you and the edge of the desk. his lips moved much less carefully now, licking into your mouth and memorizing your taste and sounds. the kiss was hot and messy, much more like what you were used to and it made the ache in your head move south. you pulled back for air noticing how he trailed after you pressed kisses to your neck like a seal had been lifted and he could finally do what he wanted. you whined at the feeling, moving back to lift his head to meet your gaze. his eyes looking up at you made your head swim, his glossy lips painting much darker images of similar positions.

“carmy, i need you.” and carmy could hear the banging and yelling in the kitchen behind me, he could smell something burning on a stove. but carmy could also hear your labored breathing combined with his, your swollen lips and your rising chest, and not to mention your intoxicating scent. it wasn’t just your perfume, as he pressed kisses to your neck he couldn’t get enough of you. your taste and your presence was making him want to be selfish, it felt right to stay here with you and it scared him. carmy still would’ve chosen what he did despite the feeling, lifting his apron off and throwing it on the floor nearby.

“fuck it, come here.” he sat down on his office chair, opening his arms for you to climb onto his lap and you took in the sight. muscular legs stretched out in front of him and his tattooed arms beckoning towards him was something you wanted framed. on shaky legs you stood up and straddled his waist, swallowing as you sat down. carmy was watching you with a new determination, looking up as you rested your hands on his shoulders. you were still too far, he needed to feel you fully against him, holding you by the hips and moving you closer, grinding you against his hardening cock in the process. the motion made you stiffen, a small gasp leaving your lips and carmy couldn’t help but lift a hand to your cheek. it was just as soft as he imagined, stroking it with a callused thumb and you pressed your face closer to it. god must have taken his time with you, carmy decided.

unfortunately he had no luxury of time, he was sure richie would come looking for him soon. leaning back in the chair, taking you with him, and clicking the lock of the door. “can i?” he had a finger hooked under your shirt hem. you could feel him, large and throbbing against your core and you nodded furiously as he lifted it off you. you shoved your hands underneath his shirt too, watching him for a nod before you tore it off. carmy seemed to be taking it all in, leaning back again and you weren’t even hiding your ogling. why the fuck did a chef in a deli have abs? you weren’t complaining, not one bit, you could think of a lot of things to do with them. your hands were much less careful than his, not even hesitating as they glided up his taut tanned skin watching his chest rise and fall as your hands returned to his shoulders. he relished in how soft and warm they were, smooth like butter and warming up his skin everywhere they went. carmy was much more patient than you it seemed, you had been practically foaming at the mouth waiting to touch him. but carmy was just in awe.

“you’re driving me crazy.” his voice was gruff and low as he said it, watching you as he undid your bra and slid a rough hand up to your breast. immediately your nipples perked up and carmy licked a long stripe across your right breast, watching your whine as you tilted your head back. his hands felt so rough and large against you, covering you and spreading their warmth. you whined as he bit down, taking his time teasing you. the drag of his teeth against your sensitive buds and his abrasive palm massaging you was grating against your rational thought, your body moving to its own accord as you ground down on him, hips moving desperately. you needed some relief and the hard throb of him against the sensitivity between your legs was enough for now. his free hand found purchase in the dip of your waist and pushed down, halting your movement. he was slightly drunk off your taste and scent so he had to remind himself he couldn’t take his time with you. any minute now the door would be banged on, pulling him back to reality. he unlatched from your skin with a lewd pop and tapped against your hip, unzipping his jeans and you eagerly moved off him. you tugged your own jeans down, eyes not moving from his bulge as it sprung free against his boxers. carmy’s eyes always seemed to be on yours, taking in the emotions there and it felt somehow much more intimate than you standing in front of him topless. he reached towards your hand, pulling you back and out of your thoughts.

“i-i don’t know if it’ll fit.” you’d been thinking it since before when he was biting up your chest, but now with it prodding your clothed clit it felt too big. carmy had to hide his amusement, tried not to think about how all your confidence and eagerness had slipped away.

“do you think you can try? huh?” he brushed a hair back, caressing your cheek and looking at your face for any hesitation. you nodded, lifting up on your knees to push your underwear to the side as carmy sprung himself free. you gasped as his tip pressed up against you, making you clench on air, and looking down didn’t help your growing wetness. he was long and thick, red neglected tip hot and heavy against your skin and you wanted to memorize the veins along the side. the sound of your shallow breath mixed with his, a symphony of anticipation. you wove a hand down, collecting the slick at the tip and coating his length. god he was so long, probably the biggest you’d ever had and you weren’t sure if you could walk out of here on two stable legs.

carmy watched as you swallowed down, eyes on his member and this time he couldn’t hide his smirk. your skin was on fire, it wasn’t like he was any better but he wasn’t unabashedly licking his lips like you had just done. it took all his self control to not just slip up into you when your eyes widened as you looked down. you led him into your entrance, practically dripping onto him and carmy threw his head back. with shaking hands and aching thighs, you slid him against your entrance. he was too thick, his tip catching against your clit as you tried to shove him in. you glared at him like it was somehow his fault and carmy swiped his thumb across your hip in apology. your hands were shaking and your legs ached, but you tried again, tried to relax and pushed him in. instantly the stretch made you gasp, adjusting to the burn between your legs and how fucking stuffed you already felt.

“fuck, so fucking tight.” carmy felt like you were choking him, warm and constrictive. it felt his blood flow was being cut off. you breathed in and out letting yourself get used to the stretch as you lowered down on him, your thighs burning as you concentrated. the ache in your body was pain earlier but now it mixed with the intense pleasure of being beyond filled up. would you ever be able to fuck anyone besides carmen berzatto?

the ache was quelled by the feeling of him twitching inside and you moaned as you nearly bottomed out. carmy watched your eyes flutter closed in concentration, your eyebrows knitted together and your expression wracked by pleasure. his hands were a vice grip around your waist, you’re sure there would be bruises there tomorrow but you didn’t care, you slowly lifted up on him and moved down, his veins dragging against your walls as his tip bumped against the fleshy spot inside you that made you clench on him. if he bottomed out you’re sure you would feel him prod at your heart. you set a slow pace, moving slowly up and down as carmy did his best not to take over. finally when he could tell the burn in your legs was becoming too much he experimentally thrusted up, and your eyes snapped to his face. your pupils were blown out and glazed over in lust and your lips raw from where you’d been biting them to hold back your sounds. carmy wished he could hear them, wished his ears were ringing from how loud you could yell his name, but today wasn’t the day.

so instead he took control, holding your hips in place as he jacked up into you, driving against the spot he knew made you fall slack in his hold. your body twitched and shaked against him, mind going numb as his control slipped and he bottomed out in one sharp thrust. your lip slipped from between your teeth and like you couldn’t help it any more you whined his name. and he didn’t think anyone would fault him for losing the remainder of his sanity.

driving in and out of you with a force that bounced your legs upwards as his tip grazed your cervix, you could feel him everywhere could feel him twitching inside you, his veins, the now slickened hair at the base of his shaft and you could feel yourself pouring down on him, his coated balls slapping against your ass. it was all too much, the way he pressed a kiss to your neck as he dug himself into you, shaping you for him and plugging you so full you couldn’t breathe. he slowed his pace, feeling like he couldn’t hold back much longer and slightly pushed you back, unclasped your hands from around the back of the chair and brought a free hand down between your bodies. his finger found your clit, massaging it as his thrusts became deeper and slower. in this position you felt exposed, your bleary eyes and bruised lips looking down at his blown out pupils and tousled hair. his eyes were always the most expressive part of him, watching you in amazement and pure desire. and then carmy pressed a flat hand against where he was burrowed deep inside, against your stomach and it all became too much, shaking as your orgasm overtook you. you clenched around him, thighs digging into his sides as he continued fucking you through it, his hand massaging your puffy overstimulated clit as you bit down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming his name.

you slumped over him, carmy keeping his hand on your stomach as he reached his own high and pumped you full, throwing his head back and letting you take it. to no surprise his come was slipping down your thighs, already too stuffed full to keep anything in and you groaned at the feeling. the loss and the messiness of it all made you cringe. carmy slipped out of you, moving your underwear so the remainder would stay with you, keep reminding you of him and you tried not to think about the implication. instead you just sat back down, feeling much emptier this time and stared at his fucked out expression. he pressed a kiss to your lips, the meaning now too apparent for you to ignore, it felt like a goodbye kiss. you couldn’t take this much longer, if he didn’t want to see you again you had to leave now.

you moved off on shaky legs, his eyes tracking your movement as you did it, you could still feel his gaze as you turned around to find your clothes. however you didn’t expect him to break the silence, you thought you’d slip away and he’d pretend that it never happened.

“what happened here?” he pressed an outstretched finger to your back, you’d forgotten about the scar there. you probably shouldn’t have shown your back to him, most people you slept with didn’t ask questions like that but you should’ve expected it from him.

“honest answer?” you pulled on your jeans and bra, turning to face him, he’d pulled his boxers up, you masked the disappointment on your face. he nodded slow, a little bit worried what the answer was but still wanting to know all the same, he could guess based on the scar but he wanted to make sure. it was a circular indent, like something had pierced it. he didn’t feel anxious, he just felt this strange anger welling up in him.

“i got shot.” you said it nonchalantly, like it happened to everyone. carmy closed his eyes for a second as if you couldn’t see the flash of emotions on his face and when he opened them he just nodded, doing his best not to freak the fuck out. you were standing in front of him, looking like an angel sent just for him telling him you got shot. he wouldn’t survive you, but then he couldn’t think about just letting you go either.

“the other person?” a smile tugged at your lips, maybe carmen berzatto was different from what you thought.

“got it worse.” he nodded standing and grabbing your shirt from where it had been flung behind him, pulling it over your head as you watched him in amusement. you pushed down the feeling that sprung up from him dressing you, instead focusing on the graze of his fingers on your skin.

“you can ask me more you know?” you could see the questions on the tip of his tongue, his lips pursed like he was physically holding them back. you looped your arms through the shirt as he stood cross armed in front of you. you didn’t have anything to lose so your eyes didn’t leave his tattooed arms, tracing the veins and muscles along them. carmy blushed like a school girl at your actions, like his office didn’t still smell of sex.

“i don’t know if i’ll survive the answers.” he was being honest, his jaw clenched as he ruminated over all the worst case scenarios. his stomach flipping as your eyes found his once again.

“i guess ignorance is bliss,” you didn’t believe that, not really, in your line of work knowing everything possible was the only way to survive.

“you’re safe though right?” carmy realized he was being a little bit ridiculous given the circumstances but you could lie to him, try and convince him that yes you were safe. instead of answering you just looked at him, really looked at him, you tried to memorize the different hues of his eyes and the sharpness of his nose, the marks on his face. the longer you didn’t answer, the longer he felt a cold sweat line his back. he was running out of time, he needed to get back out. “what’s your number?” leaning over he grabbed his phone from his desk, his arm grazing yours. you put it in and handed it back, saving your contact as well.

“just uh tell me you’re okay alright?” it was probably the sweetest anyone’s been to you in a while, earnestly at least, and you pressed a kiss to his cheek nodding and slipping out of his office quietly. carmy did his best to conceal his red face as he got redressed and exited his office, met with yells and questions.

[aboutmercy]

thinking about how dongsik and joowon are the inverse of each other. thinking about joowon's journey realizing that blood is not thicker than water, ties can be severed from abusive family members (no matter how painful that is) and that among many things, his father's cruelty is what took away and destroyed dongsik's family who actually were a positive force in his life. many things about beyond evil appeal to me, but i mainly want to put a pin on the central themes of the show, particularly the failures of adults and parental figures, how that ripples through the lives of their successors in an especially vicious and self-destructive manner. this is a commonality found between multiple characters in the show (minjeong, joowon and jeongje) - but i want to put emphasis on joowon's struggle with this because his path to freedom was walked to completion, in comparison to minjeong whose life was cut short and jeongje who we part with carrying the painful knowledge that he may never achieve absolution, as his journey has only begun.

the show, technically starts at the beginning of joowon's journey/arc. unfamiliarity and discomfort force him to adapt and self-reflect, because the only way joowon was able to free himself was by breaking every rule his father set for him, going beyond his selfish confines and breaking down the walls he built. joowon is unable to get his physical body dirty, he is emotionally closed-off and is incapable of understanding why the people in manyang, particularly dongsik, would look out for anyone other than themselves. he is selfish, rigid, guilt-ridden and bashful; but it is exposure to dongsik's unwavering faith in and patience for others (for jeongje, for sangbae, for the people of manyang that have wronged him for years) that erode his harsh edges. dongsik, although not without flaws and contrary to what his outer appearance and manner of speech radiate, is kind and forgiving. that kindess, that forgiveness, as well as joowon's own guilt and shame is essential to getting him to a point where he is comfortable bloodying his hands, his clothes, and his face to protect dongsik (+ jihwa and her partner. to protect his friends).

dongsik recognizes joowon's pain too ("i know what it's like to be blamed for something you didn't do"). he sees his guilt, it's not inordinate to what joowon's done per se but a large portion of it brings so much shame to joowon ("please, stop doing unnecessary things out of guilt.") how could i have been so self-righteous when the man who bore me is responsible for so much misery? how do i rectify this, how do i absolve myself from the guilt? all dilemmas joowon grapples with, and dongsik, knowing pain and shame all too well does not grant joowon mercy when he is bowed down, forehead to cuffed hands while joowon's own are also cupping dongsik's, begging for it. mercy is letting joowon go, it's lifting the burden of responsibility off his shoulders - but instead, dongsik’s final request ensures that joowon truly atones ("i ask you to arrest me" - "no, how could i do that? i have no right") by informing him that the only way to live with guilt is to try and do right by the people who expect something from him. "joowon-ah", dongsik says as he softly picks up joowon's clenched fist, the look they share informs joowon that going through with the arrest is how he'll do dongsik right. it's what dongsik, his now friend, expects from him. that's what their final scene as partners is all about, in my opinion.

and something good does come out of dongsik's firm but tender confrontation. joowon gradually becomes a better person who seeks community and whose life, in return, is enriched by the friends that forming community gave him. dongsik and joowon's parting is bittersweet, but in letting joowon know that his actions matter to others and that he is wanted and expected by others - (jihwa, as part of the larger collective whose feelings towards joowon are influenced by dongsik's, texts him and checks in - that expectation to show up and empathy for when he does not respond is an invitation letting him know that there is a place for him if he chooses to occupy any) - dongsik sets him free.

[barbwritesstuff]

I'm a diehard Blood Moon fan and finally decided to give Thicker Than a try and I'm loving it as well! I think what stuck out the most to me is how good you are at depicting two opposing sides of the age old werewolf v vampire debate. In Blood Moon I was like "Well of course we have to kill these thralls, they're VAMPIRES! Even if they're being controlled they'll still be bloodsucking monsters with no emotions! Better deal with them now than when they're centuries old and an actual threat!" Then in Thicker Than I turn around and am like "It's monstrous what those werewolves did, they slaughtered people who were turned against their will and probably hadn't spent a single moment in a right state of mind since being turned! They never even gave them a chance!"

It's amazing how you can make the reader genuinely see both sides of the thought process, and makes me even more excited for Thicker Than to continue so we can see these two worldview clash some more!!

I'm so glad you like it. The thing I really wanted to do with Thicker Than was flip that coin and show the city/world from a vampire's POV.

Werewolves in Blood Moon are a big family, trying to survive, and sort of taking for granted how naturally powerful they really are.

The vampires are undead, underhanded, and alien.

In Thicker Than, the vampires remain undead, underhanded, and alien, but I can explore how complex their relationships are, why they vie for power, and what it's like to exist as something forever changed from what you once were.

From a vampire's perspective, werewolves are unpredictable, primal, and powerful (not unlike a storm). No one in vampire land really knows how werewolves work, though there are a lot of theories. Mostly, vampires just avoid them, but if werewolves need to be approached, it is done so with a lot of caution.

I'm really enjoying playing with that inverted dynamic. It's not that werewolves have the wrong idea about vampires, or that vampires have the wrong idea about werewolves.

They're both right about each other. Werewolves are powerful and primal. Vampires are alien and self serving. But that doesn't mean that's all they are.

I really hope some of that made sense.

[lokiandbuckysdoll]

Can I get one where Loki is comforting avenger reader because she went to visit her family and they made her feel horrible about herself (she has wider hips and thicker thighs. She also has scars from previous attacks) she asks Loki if she is bothering him with her existence and he hugs her and tells her that he loves her and that she is strong. Something along those lines?

 Thank you anon for sending this in! I hope you enjoy it!💗

Paring: Avenger!Loki x Avenger!Reader 

Word count: 1,631

Dividers: @silkholland

Warnings: Thick thighs and wider hips reader! (not a waring but i didn’t want to want to tag it plus size reader or a thick/curvy reader fic  and end up upsetting or offend people if i use the wrong tag!!!)  toxic/mean family members, Mean comments made about readers body, mention and talks about scars, blood(brief mention when talking about scars) angst, Fluff.

*If I missed something please let me know!*  

All day Loki could sense something was wrong, it started when you told him you'd be visiting your family. Loki didn’t know much about your family, you didn't know much about his either; besides Thor, Frigga, and Odin. After all, he was lied to about who he truly was growing up. He could see why the topic of your family or his was never really a decision for the both of you, aside from knowing the names of parents and siblings' names. 

From what he did know though, he could pick together that your family wasn’t too kind to you about your job. You loved being an Avenger, sure you did not have super soldier serum, or were an ex-assassin. You were very talented though in the weapons department as well as in hands-on combat 

So upon arriving at your family's house you felt that anxiousness begin to build up inside. You took a deep breath before opening the door to cross the threshold. As soon as your family saw you it was like a wave of questions had begun. 

Nothing less you tried your best to answer each one until it got to the questions you knew were coming and dreaded. 

" You look different, are you eating less? Dieting?' 

" Did your hips grow more?" 

" Why are thighs still thick?"  

Hearing these words didn't affect you as much, you were used to their comments about your body. Ever since you hit puppetry and notice that your hips were wider and had thicker thighs than your cousins and peers around you.  

It was your cousins Lisa and Isabella to be the ones to make you feel insecure. 

" I'll say I'm still surprised they still have you helping them on their missions," Lisa spoke as she took a sip of wine.   

" Right! with your shape I thought they may be switching you to a different type of job. Especially with all the scars you have. You must not be that good on the field." Your other cousin Isabella butted in laughing at the end as she and Lisa agreed. 

" How many Scars do you even have now Y/N? I can see some aren't all that pleasant.... looking" she had a grimace expression. 

Lisa was specifically talking about one of your most visible scars that you were insecure about. Your collarbone had a slash scar going down to your mid-arm. You had gained this one from an enemy attacking you on a mission, lucky you were quick to Disarm him and take him down. However, his attack left a not-so-pretty scar.  

Isabella was quick to put her input to your scars as well. 

" Scars aren't sexy at all Y/N, if you want Captain America to look your way or other agents then try to cover up a bit" Her hand gestured to the outfit that was showing another scar of yours. She gave you a small smile before turning around with Lisa as they went to mingle with other family members. 

After hearing their comments about your scar, you decided you had to leave your family's house. The scar Isabella was talking about was probably one of the most memorable missions you had.  

 You were on a mission paired with Loki, While Steve and Thor were on the South Side, and Bucky and Sam were on the north side of the hydra Facility. 

This mission was already sketchy upon entering the facility, Loki had a very bad feeling about it and so did you. Nothing less the both of you did what you had to do until you heard Bucky yelling in the coms that hydra agents were on their way to you. 

Before you and Loki could respond you heard the door being broken down, both of you took shelter pulling out weapons. The two of you we're fighting your way out through the agents. As you make your way into the hallway an explosive went off. 

If things couldn't get any worse you were the one closer to the explosive, as it went off it sent you flying. Once you gain consciousness again you could tell you and Loki have been separated. You were trapped on the other side of the ruble with only one way out. You heard a groan and turn around to find 2 Hydra agents stuck with you as well. 

You quickly leap into action taking one out but the second one caught you by surprise and shot you in your abdomen. You made the mistake of looking down at your wound because the agent took it as an opportunity to pull out his knife and struck you where the bullet had gone in. Slicing the blade further down until it reaches your hip bone. 

At this moment you truly felt like this was it was the last time you would fight. You felt your body grow weaker as the loss of blood. Before you could let your thoughts take you, you tried hard to fight off the agent.  

Right when he was about to go for a second stab, the agent in front of you collapsed. Only when he fell you could see that Loki's daggers were in his back. You look up to lock eyes with him and that was the last thing you saw before your eyes closed and you collapsed.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't realize you had made it back to yours and Loki’s shared apartment until you had parked the car. 

 Drawing yourself out of the memory you took a deep breath to compose the tears already starting to set. 

As soon as the front door opened Loki was quick to greet you have the same sense of things being not good. 

His expression grew worried upon seeing your watery eyes. He was quick to pull you into a hug. His body warmth makes you slightly calmer. 

You eagerly return the hug holding him tight and gripping his shirt as if he were to leave and go away at any moment. His large rubbed up and down your back.  

 He let you cry until your cries turned into sniffles, and those turned into hiccups. When he pulled back to look at you he knew that you were stuck in your head. 

“ I- then-” you tried to talk but couldn’t form words. 

“It’s alright I got you, darling, your safe” his hand came up and cupped your face. You nuzzled into his touch. 

“May I?” He asked softly. You knew what he was asking and you simply nodded.  

He placed his forehead against yours and began to read your thoughts and look at the memories for the day. This is one of the things you loved about Loki. When you weren’t in the perfect headspace he’d always find a way to comfort you. 

When he saw what you had to go through today a frown appeared on his beautiful face. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel his emotions through the bond. 

“ I’m sorry” you spoke quietly and pulled yourself away from his touch altogether as you moved to the bedroom.  

He was quick to follow. “ Darling, why do you feel the need to apologize to me?” his soft was soft laced with nothing but concern.  

You turn around to meet his eyes and the strength you had to not let your true feelings show finally breaks. 

“ Because” you paused to breathe. “ Because I bother you with my existence and you deserve someone so much better than me. Someone strong and not weak like me with my problems.” your eyes were filled with tears by the end of your sentence.    

“ My love, your existence does not bother me one bit if anything. Your existence is the reason why I stay on Midgard without you here I serve no true purpose.” Loki moved to stand directly in front of you. His hand lifted your gaze to his, his eyes held nothing but love and devotion for you.  

You went to open your mouth to protest, yet he shushed you. 

“ I love you more than anything in all the 9 realms, there's nothing I won’t do to protect you. Your family may not see the beauty you have that I do” He cupped your face once again bringing you closer until your lips nearly touched.  

You looked up into his eyes and then to his lips before speaking. 

“ What’s my beauty?” you whisper against his lips before he closed the distance and places a delicate kiss on your lips. 

“Everything my love, from the way you laugh at Steve's, not so funny jokes, to the way you look breathtakingly beautiful when I have you naked underneath me ” his hand moves to trace the two most visible scars. 

“ Theses” he touches your scars “ are simply a reminder of how strong of a fighter you are. The day you received this one” he touched the scar on your abdomen. 

“ I thought I’d lose you forever, I thought I never get to express to you how deep my desire and enamored was for you, my love.”  

He pulled you into a kiss once more. 

“ Since you've been around I smile a lot more than I used to. Please never doubt your existence again nor talk badly about yourself. You are the Light in my dark life” he placed his forehead Against yours and held you tight.  

A small silence fell between the two of you as you had tears in the corners of your eyes. The love Loki had for you is deeper than anything you've ever experienced in this lifetime. There truly wasn't anything he wouldn't do to make you happy. 

Taglist: @caothicshit @huntressandlioness1 @huntress-artemiss

@springdandelixn @hannibals-favourite-meal @nana1000night

@silverfire475 @vbecker10 @sarahrogersevans @lokisgoodgirl

@imyourbratzdoll @michelleleewise @eleniblue

[wearethemaincharacters]

If we get caught, I’m blaming you [j cody x fem!reader]

18+ minors DNI!

Word count: 996

Prompts:

51 if we get caught, i’m blaming you

22 did I give you permission to do that?

56 look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only me

7 louder, let me hear you

63 oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?

Warnings: smut (18+), shower sex, mention of a gun (not used towards anyone), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it guys), choking, getting caught (kinda)

——————————————————————————

“Smurf is going to kill us, if we get caught, I’m blaming you”, you tell him as both of you scurry into the bathroom, not even closing the door since the bedroom one seemed to be enough not to get caught.

He presses his body into yours, your lower back coming in contact with the counter of the sink behind you. Effortlessly, he grabs the back of your thighs to lift you up and sit you onto the counter. While his lips attack your neck with kisses and take the chance to carefully suck on your skin, your hands wander to his lower back where you pull on his shirt but your fingers land on something else - metal.

A moan escapes your throat as you grab the gun and put it next to you on the counter. You go back and pull his bloody shirt over his head and throw it somewhere in the room.

“Shower”, you now mumble against his lips and already try to hop off the counter.

Guests would be arriving in the next five minutes and both of you still needed to get cleaned up, washing the blood off your bodies from the job you pulled and nobody needed to know about - no one besides your family of course. Smurf took you in when you were younger and your parents just didn’t care about you, so they someday dropped you off at her front door but things got complicated when J came around about a year ago - because family doesn’t screw family and it never mattered if you were her real daughter or not.

This was the second job you pulled as a family after she finally caved in and gave J the chance to prove himself as trustworthy and the tension was thicker than usual, everyone still feeling the adrenaline. The blood on your clothes wasn’t his or yours, Baz lost it and shot one of the civilians, not a deadly shot but enough you and J would look like it got either of you.

He kisses you hungrily while pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra on your way into the shower. After pulling away for a second to turn on the water, you already work on the button of your jeans shuffling them down your legs with your underwear.

J closes the gap between your body, pressing his body into you before pulling away from your lips once more, grabbing your ass in your hands as you work the belt and button of his jeans: “Shit, did I give you permission to do that?”, smiling as he looks down at your naked form when you take things in your own hands again and push him into the shower, letting the door fall shut behind you. He pulls his pants and underwear down, not trying to break the kiss as both of you get drenched from the stream of water above you.

“Need to hurry”, you tell him and turn around to press your body into the glass, fingers reaching for his cock.

He gives it a few tugs, the noises only amplified by the stream of water, before he teases your entrance rubbing his length up and down a few times. You brace your hands before you, trying your best not to slip on the wet shower floor when you spread your legs further, pushing back against him. The moan that escapes your lips is breathy and shaky in your throat as he pushes himself into the hilt, filling you up completely. His hand sneaks on the side of your neck before deciding against fully wrapping around and instead he collects your wet hair and gives a little tug, pulling your head slightly backwards which makes your head spin and brace your hands in front of you against the glass while you look at him, brows furrowed just like yours and water spilling down the back of his neck and back. He lets go of your hair and grabs your tits in one hand each with a firm grip.

His thrusts are fast, setting a rhythm that’s better than you could’ve ever imagined when touching yourself only a few doors down from him.

The following words let your forehead fall onto glass while trying to match your movements with trembling knees: “Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me and only me”, his voice drops to a possessive tone down to your ear and you can feel yourself clenching around him, your orgasm nearing when you actually dare and take a look into the mirror in front of you. Him behind you, now with a vice grip on your hips all while your body is pressed to the glass of the shower, taking him like you always thought about. Your whimpers turn into silent moans and cries for help, desperate for your release.

“Louder, let me hear you.”

Squeezing your eyes shut you try your best and concentrate on keeping your mouth shut, too scared to get caught. One hand reaches between your thighs to draw circles on your clit and suddenly a high pitched moan leaves your lips, letting your head fall back on his shoulder, legs trembling as you’re right on the edge.

“Oh, sensitive there, aren’t we?”

A slap on your ass rips another moan from your lips. His own movements get sloppy as he keeps fingering your clit, making you come with a cry, body tensing and legs almost buckling out under you as he follows just seconds later. You catch your breath as your trembling hands slide down the glass when he pulls out, leaving you wanting more already.

“I hope you guys are done, Smurf just got back from the store”, Derans voice says from outside the door, causing both of you to wince.

You can be fucking lucky she left in the first place.

~ M

[mino-diabolik]

DARK FATE — General Prologue [CG]

「Monologue」

Blood is thicker than water. Are we meant to believe a statement like that so blindly? Can familial bonds truly be worth the sacrifice of the relationships we have forged on our own? Perhaps they sculpted us into the people we are today. But can they claim they know us in depth? Can they claim that they will love us even if we do not become what they wished us to? Will they still care for us when we disagree? When we no longer wish to continue what they have started? These shadows press upon us worlds more than the gold of this crown. When our time comes, may we be buried beneath the earth. And not the weight of our name.

[ Location: No Man's Land — Demon Realm ]

Paws land heavily upon the ground. A large wolf of an obsidian coat charges through the overgrown. A young woman sits on its back with ease, clutching to its fur.

DJ: Mind your step, Mystic. This area is notorious for dangerous vegetation.

Mystic: Fret not, my loving Queen. This humble servant shall bring you back safely.

DJ: Oh, shush, boy. Quit jesting.

Mystic: Hahaha! Alright, I get it. I'll be careful.

( I've never been around this area. I suppose listening to mother this once would be for the best. )

The wind whistles loudly. Mystic suddenly slows to a stop.

Mystic: ... ... ...

DJ: ... Mystic? What's the matter?

Mystic: Can't you smell that?

DJ looks around, seemingly taking in her surroundings. She perks up.

DJ: ... ... Yes. Yes, I do.

Mystic: It's...

DJ: ——familiar.

Mystic kneels. DJ climbs down. He gently pushes her to hide.

Mystic: ( What... is that smell?

Why does it seem so familiar? )

—Rustle—

Mystic: ( Something...

There's something coming this way—— )

A branch cracks. Mystic pounces. A young woman startles under the shadows of the forest. Multiple other wolves stand around her.

??? (1): ... ... !

A pair of unknown individuals hurry into view just moments after. Mystic takes a furious stance, his ears pinned back.

DJ: ——Mystic, halt!

Mystic: ... ...?

( What's going on? )

??? (2): Who's there?! Come out right now!

Leaves rustle. DJ emerges. Mystic takes a protective stance in front of her.

??? (2): ... ...

... ... What——?

DJ: Sh—...

... ... Shin?

Mystic: ( ... ... Shin? The Shin?! )

DJ: ... Sob...

DJ walks closer to the man, tears pouring. Her hands quiver, hesitant to even reach for him.

DJ: You're alive...

... ... You're alive!

All of you are!

??? (3): ... ... ...

DJ: Lord Carla.

Carla: I never expected to see you again.

DJ: I could say the same, sir.

Magic swirls. Mystic emerges back into view in his original shape.

Mystic: Mother, what's going on? Who are these people?

Shin: ... ... "Mother"?

Mystic: ( Wow, he's mad now. )

DJ: Shin... this is Mystic. My son.

——Our son.

Carla: What?

Shin: ... ...

Our——!?

Mystic: ( We don't look all that alike. I've certainly got his eyes, though.

——One of them, at least. )

Shin: How could he... ...!?

DJ: Well... don't you remember our final night together?

Shin: ... ... Huh.

Mystic: Okay, too much information——

Shin: ... ... …

Mystic: ( He's staring at me now. )

What?

Shin: I was just thinking how you don't look like me at all.

Mystic: That so? Hah, thank god.

Shin: You——!

Mystic: I know what you're insinuating. I don't appreciate it.

Mystic: And hey, look here——

Mystic inches closer to Shin. He taps a finger right under his left eye.

Mystic: Now, tell me... which eye are you missing?

Shin: ... ...

Carla: As it would seem... Though he lacks many of your features, this boy is truly your flesh and blood.

—Fade—

「Monologue」

The Founders guided us back to their palace. The Banmaden. All with the promise of explaining what had happened in the aftermath of that long distant defeat. "How did you escape?" Mother asked. As it would turn out, the Lunar Eclipse gave the First Bloods the chance to escape. Even with it being a few months away, it’s proximity was enough to weaken the barrier and for their combined power to shatter it. They wandered through the Demon Realm for days, looking over other kingdoms and their linked territories. Mother spoke of her life after she left the Banmaden all those years ago. It was a story I had heard thousands of times. I have never been fond of standing around listening to the elders, so I decided to take the chance to view the terrain.

[ Location: Balcony — Banmaden ]

Mystic: ( So... this is the Banmaden. The Palace of the First Bloods.

I had only ever seen it from afar. Up until now, it and the surrounding area had been locked away by KarlHeinz's magic.

Can't imagine what it must have been like... )

??? (1): ——Excuse me.

Mystic: ... ... !

( Oh…! It's that woman from before. She didn’t say much at our first meeting, so I didn’t really have a chance to pay her any mind.

She really looks a lot like Lord Carla…

I didn't even feel her approach. Scary... )

Hey, um...

??? (1): Kazuha.

Mystic: Kazuha…

Sorry. Didn't hear you step out here.

—Rattle—

Kazuha: Is this yours?

Mystic: ( Father's revolver! )

How did you——?!

Kazuha: You left it unattended at the lounge down the hallway.

What an odd object. It is similar to a cannon. Though, perhaps a smaller version of it.

Mystic: Could you give it back—

Kazuha: I can hear the many bits and parts on the inside.

What is this machine called?

Mystic: ( Has she never seen a firearm? What is she going on about a "smaller cannon"? )

It's a firearm. A revolver. You put bullets in it.

Kazuha: Revolver?

—Click—

Kazuha: Bullets? Are those the cannon balls that go through the mouth of this machine?

Mystic: No, that's not—

Sigh, give it here. Lemme show you.

( Even a child would know how a revolver works... )

( ... Don't tell me... she's actually never seen one? )

( Just how long have these people been locked away in this place? )

Mystic jerks the cylinder open. It clicks and the bullets rattle. He angles the firearm for Kazuha to see.

Mystic: This little thing here is a bullet. They go in the empty spaces inside the cylinder. When you pull down the hammer—the little lever here on the back—it turns, then it's ready to fire.

Kazuha: Remarkable.

... My mother would have loved this artifact...

——Where did you get this?

Mystic: Ah, well, it was a gift from my father.

Kazuha: I wasn't aware Shin owned something like this.

Mystic: No, not that guy.

I'm talking about the man that was betrothed to my mother.

Even though his feelings were never reciprocated, he loves my mother very much. And for that, he raised me like I was his flesh and blood.

Kazuha: ... ... What a spineless man.

Mystic: Huh?

Kazuha: Since you know so much about this machine, I can assume you have the proper knowledge to wield it?

Mystic: Oh, um... sure?

I don't use it often, though.

Kazuha: ... ...

I am sure we will find a use for it.

Mystic: ... ...?

—Fade—

[ Location: Deserted Street — Human Realm ]

—Bang!—

A demon yelps. The bullet quickly consumes the intestines it has latched onto with a sizzle. He drops, howling in pain.

Mystic: Here I thought everyone knew not to make deals with Vipers. Have you learned nothing from history?

Now look at you—

Weeping like a child while you clutch to your guts.

Demon Target: N—no! Have mercy...!

I—I just need some time to get the funds!

It wasn't my intention to disappear!

Mystic: Uh-huh. I'm sure.

Kazuha: Mystic, quit wasting time.

Mystic: Oh, c'mon! Their sob stories are always the best part of the job.

Kazuha: My father said to return early tonight. We have an important matter to discuss during dinner.

Mystic: Ain’t no one told you to tag along.

Kazuha: It is exactly because of that attitude that I did. You have started taking too long. Perhaps a proper deadline would keep you moving.

Demon Target: Yo—you won't get away with this! Just wait until my boss hears of——

Mmmf...!

—Click—

Mystic: Ah-ah-ah. No talkin' with your mouth full. That's not proper at all.

And anyways, my boss—right over there—she’s way scarier. I can promise you it.

Now open wide and taste the barrel well, yeah? I gotta aim for your palate properly.

Kazuha: Mystic.

Mystic: Ugh... fine.

Demon Target: Mmf! Sto——!!

—Bang!—

Mystic: Aww, man. Dude had such a pretty face, too. Now look at this mess.

Kazuha: We should head back.

Be sure to clean yourself up before you even take a step in the grand hall. My father will not be pleased with your appareance.

Mystic: Roger that, boss. I'm sure my mother wouldn’t be all that jolly about it either.

Mystic tucks the bloody revolver into a pocket on the inside of his jacket. Crackling and hissing can be heard as the bullets consume all organic matter from the deceased demon's corpse.

Mystic: What's Lord Carla gotta talk to everyone about, anyway?

Kazuha: My father did not specify any topic, strangely enough…

Mystic: ( It's always something with that old man... )

How fuckin' exciting.

Kazuha: Watch your mouth.

Mystic: Sigh... yeah, yeah.

( Not sure what it is...

But I have a really terrible feeling about this. )

—Fade—

[ Location: Grand Hall — Banmaden ]

Utensils clink against plates. The voices of the family echo in the mostly empty grand room.

Carla: ——that is the human with the heart of Menae's daughter.

Mystic: ... ... ...

( Oh... fuck. )

Carla: Flashes of this memory came to me earlier today.

I am not sure how this could have happened, but it must have manifested for a reason.

Shin: What maniac put the heart of a demon in a human body?

Kazuha: ...What are we meant to do, father?

Carla: I have not quite made up my mind about it.

But as far as I am concerned, we cannot allow the pawns of KarlHeinz to continue having possession of something so valuable.

Mystic: ( "Pawns of KarlHeinz"... huh? I suppose that's one way of putting it. )

Shin: Are you saying we should take the girl away?

Carla: I see taking that route as the only viable option at this moment.

Mystic: ... ... ...

( I know exactly who they're talking about.

Oh, Yui, you poor lamb... it really seems like you can't catch a break... )

DJ: ... ... ...

Mystic: ( Mother is looking at me.

She knows of the little lamb. I've spoken to her about Yui multiple times in the past. )

DJ: ... ... ...

Shin: What is it, Des?

Mystic subtly shakes his head.

Mystic: ( Please don't—— )

DJ: ... ... Sigh...

It's nothing, dear. I'm just a little tired, that's all.

Shin: Hm, that's so?

—Creak—

Mystic: ——I'm full. Thank you for the meal.

DJ: Mystic, where are you going? Everyone else hasn't finished.

Mystic: I'm sorry, mother. There're some things I forgot to take care of.

Mystic gives DJ a quick side-hug and the rest at the table a short bow.

Mystic: Enjoy your meal!

—Footsteps—

Carla: ... ... ...

DJ: Fo—forgive him, my lord. He's not exactly used to——

Carla: No need. It is none of my concern.

——Kazuha...

Kazuha: Yes, sir.

「Monologue」

I rushed out of the palace. The wheels of the motorcycle kicked up dust as it spun to exit through the Banmaden's gates. My Familiars emerge from the surrounding forest, barking and whining as they chased close behind. I have to warn them. I must get to them before they are found.

Mystic peers up at the sky through crooked branches. The wind whistles in his ears.

Mystic: ( The moon…

… it’s finally turning bloody soon. )

「 General Prologue — End 」

[ Dark Prologue ]

[khajiit-apologist]

to woo

gorefic, listen to paprika

word count: 1,525

part 2 part 3

There was a pause. He wasn’t looking at her, just fiddling with his gauntlet. It was foggy, a reflection of her mind.

“You’re a good person, Gore.” Samhain almost whispered it. 

“Thank you…it’s hard to accept that sometimes. But when you say it, I believe you. Listen…do you mind if I hold your hand again?” He paused again, “I think you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.” Gore met her eyes. 

I think you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met. His words echoed in her mind. Her eyes widened, she didn’t even try to hide it. Her eyes darted to his hands. Did he know what that meant? No, of course not. He sucked in a breath waiting on an answer. She stepped back, almost as if catching herself. Her head felt hot, her hands twitched. He was the first person she met. Sure she has ‘met’ plenty of people, but they were employers. People who needed a bear or bandit killed. He did not need anything from her. He never did. He started to take off the gauntlet he was fidgeting with. I can't, I don't know how. In Dawnstar it was different, she didn’t know why she asked if he loved her. 

“Yeah, ok.” She met his eyes again, the corners of her mouth twitched upwards, “I don't really know what to say though.”

“Of course. You don’t need to say anything.” He smiled. It calmed her nerves a bit. His eyes softened. 

Gods I am doomed. She looked at her gloved hand. At the docks she didn’t take it off, it was too cold. Now though it was different. She pulled at the fingers of the glove. Time seemed to move slowly. When it was loose she gave one final pull, exposing her hand. Staring at it, she felt naked, as if she stood there exposed. Blood rushed to her fingertips, her hand mirrored her flushed face. The air was cool, the fog seemed thicker. He lifted his hand towards her, and slid her hand into his. He wrapped her hand as if they had done this many times before. Skin on skin. Their fingers intertwined, instinctively she twitched. Does he know it’s new to her too? He didn’t believe that she was just as clueless. Maybe even more so. Internally screaming, she just stared at their hands. Can he feel my pulse? He led her to a rock that looked over a forest. It was breathtaking. The trees stuck out of the fog like large green beacons. They sat down. She couldn’t look at him. He was looking at her, waiting for her to say something. Though maybe her silence said more than she would have liked. His mind raced too. She was back to staring at their hands. He did too. She squeezed, as if her life depended on it. I don’t want to love you. Do I? She hated it. How her cheeks flushed when he was near. How her head got hot. How she wanted to reach out to him, and keep him close. How much she cared. Does he feel the same? Am I mad? She closed her eyes. Listening to the leaves rustle in the wind. She didn’t know why she hated it. It was something she has never experienced. She had loved so many people, but this was different. Sure her family loves her, and she thinks her friends do too. What she felt for Gore made her stomach tighten, but her heart soars. It was hard, because it was new. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She opened her eyes again and finally looked at him. All the thoughts stopped. He was looking at her. He softly smiled, using his whole face to do so. She looked into his eyes, and it felt like they were the only people on Nirn. Does he see me? Who I am, what I am thinking? 

“I-.” Love you, but the words didn’t come. Her courage was lost in the wind, and her mouth was dry. By the look on his face he seemed to understand. 

He squeezed her hand, she loosened her grip some. He laughed, “We’re doomed.” The laugh was to ease the tension. His words echoed her thoughts. 

“I want to tell you something.” She looked over the forest again, “If you want to hear. About Dawnstar.” 

“Of course.” He shifted.

“After you, um, turned yourself in; I went to the shore.” She rubbed her thumb over his. “I sat there. For a long time.”

“I know. Felt like ages I was in there.” She could hear that he was still smiling. 

“I cried.” Her eyes went back to their hands. His fingers twitched. “I didn’t know what to do. I realized…” She paused, Gods this is hard, “I realized I loved you. Told myself I’d never see you again. I thought I wouldn’t.” 

She cried. He felt horrible, “How long?” Did he really want to know?

“Hours it must have been. I didn’t know what to do.” She bit her bottom lip, “I can stop.” She turned her head towards him quickly. She never wanted to tell him, but knew it was important. Emotions flurried that day, she felt as if she were in the eye of the storm now. Seeing the storm surround her now. 

“No, don't. I want to know, I want to hear it.” He said it so quietly. It isn’t fair you listen to my problems and I can’t hear about yours. He couldn't say it.

“I have never cared about someone like…this.” It felt juvenile, “Sometimes I feel two opposite things at once.  I mean I do love you, I just don’t know how.”  And it scares me. She looked at his expression, he looked concerned yet focused. “I don’t know what commitment would even look like. I watched the sea and everything felt heavy. I felt alone. I wondered what you were thinking. I wondered if I should forgive you; for leaving.” She pursed her lips waiting for a reaction, eyes watching his.

“I’m sorry, Sam.” His face sank.

She squeezed his hand again, “I’m not done.” She looked away again, “I have forgiven you. I don’t think I need to.” She faced him again, he was tense she could tell. “Soon I just cried. Not because of you, but just because I needed to.” She looked away ashamed, “I was so scared to be alone again. I love you so much, so much it hurts. I am content to just be with you here, like this.” She moved closer, their shoulders touched. She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. “I’ll wait for you, Gore. But you might have to wait for me too.” 

“Yeah. I don’t expect us both to be ready at the same time.” He leaned his head on her’s.

“You’re my best friend, my blood. That comes before anything.” She smiled, “You’re my first friend, and I don’t want to lose that.”

The thought took him by surprise. She had always spoken like she never had many friends, but he never really thought about it. He almost felt bad, purely because of who he is; who he was. He couldn’t imagine being without her, being alone. To hear her say she felt the same meant more than words could describe. Sometimes she was the one who kept him moving. Every act of kindness was effortless, he felt he had to try. He looked at her hand. It felt surreal. Nothing like this has happened to him, it was something he only ever dreamed about. He just remembers the first time she caught him staring at her. She smiled, more like beamed. As if she was hoping it would happen. He always stared at the back of her head, hoping she would turn and he could see her smile. He saw when her fingers twitched when she was nervous or upset, wishing he could just take her hand. When she talked he would sometimes close his eyes, to just listen, to hear her. There were so many things she would do that he noticed. They were content with just being silent, together. 

“I think, no matter what or how we end up, I will always love you.” He rubbed his cheek on her hair. Their bodies relaxed, “You saved me.” He whispered it, almost hoping she didn’t hear him. He has said it before, but now it feels different to say. 

“Just…it’s a pause right? Not the end.” She moved her head to look at him. Their faces were so close.

“Yeah, I think so. We just have things to figure out. I want to be there for you. I want…to be here for you.” He glanced away then back, as if waiting for something.

“Me too.” She looked over the forest again, then looked back, “You can always lean on me, and I’ll always lean on you.” With her other hand she moved some hair out of his face. They went back to how they were, just looking at the view. Leaning on each other. 

[brooklynislandgirl]

Which of her many relations would Beth most like Ron to meet?

Asks Open Forever {{tagging @morgansmornings and @big-d-little-i-big-n-little-ozzo for reasons:tm:}} A twenty minute drive, give or take, is eschewed in favour of a leisurely late afternoon-early evening walk for those three and some miles back to Cedra Court from Vallance Road. The late spring weather is mild, free of rain, and there's a gentle breeze in the canopy of newly leafed treetops lining the sidewalks they amble along. For all that Claude could strain his broad shoulders and barrel chest, half dragging Ron in his wake, the giant black Cane Corso prefers the more sedate pace. Focused, alert, and a little less interested in the smells that seem to draw Topper's nose. Beth's hands are equally occupied with much more sedate friends; Mo is graceful and Noe ~their smallest, and the one gifted to her by Ron himself~ is simply content to be included. A good five or ten minutes flows by with companionable silence; little noises or tugs on leashes to communicate with a portion of the pack surrounding them, the sound of the occasional traffic be it automobile or pedestrian, greetings murmured in passing which Beth had come to realise a year or two ago was a distinctly American trait. Too friendly, Reg called it. With the implication of nosy, of being a bee in everyone's garden. Normally Beth might be a brook of chatter, words spilling out over the banks of her lips, filtered over teeth and tongue to be as crystalline as their mixed slang can be to them. She'd have questions about the things she's learned, the customs observed, and she might, in a rare moment of particular joy or vulnerability, dislodge a similar experience or tid-bit about her own family. A glimpse of a life she hardly bothers to talk about. Best put though, it seems some of the Ink that Ron vigilantly guards against has splashed up on tawny skin. Muddied her thoughts and put clouds in her internal sky, and her silence comes away with a hint of trouble she has no defense against. The only good part about all that is that Ron seems to understand the source of her mood. He doesn't need to ask what in particular his mother had said. What particular piece of wit from his brother is taken like something she'd need scrape off her shoe. Why Frances eats into her like a worm does a ripening apple. His armour is often thicker than her own in different ways. So instead, after a time, he makes that rumbling little beckon in the back of his throat,herald to something he'd like to say, and when he's certain she's paused and her eyes linger on his mouth, he asks her gently about her own clan and kin. Beth has never felt quite so bankrupt in the history of her existence. Takes at least two more drag-heel blocks to even pry loose her voice. "I s'spose firs' an' foremos' I'd like ya t' get t' know my hanai-sistah. Like some of ya aunties, we're not blood-blood, but could be. I was her roommate durin' University, start a year before she did. Been bes' good friends evah since. She date Andy briefly, but it became kinda obvious dat dey were too same-same for it to work out, an' he became jus' as ovahprotective of her as he was wi' me. She's supah smart, she funny, an' she bakes like no one's business. She's also my lawyer even dough she gave up practising for da most part. Keeps her license wi' da Bar current jus' for me. I love her." Talk of Jay does brighten her up and puts a soft smile on her face. "Den dere's my cousin Tony. Funny enough, if we nevah were anyt'ing more dan friends, he'd be da one I try f' introduce you. He smells nice, dresses well, is smart an' is funny, great hair, amazin' cook, writes his own songs, play piano, I mean I could go on f' days but really he has da worst luck wi' guys. Mebbe because he's sorta like a Military Cop...but not like in da Military, but a separate department of investigation. He also has an attachment t' his boss even if da man is horrifically toxic to Tony. An' tru'd be told? I t'ink its because he had an off relationship wi' his dad, too. Guess dat runs in da family."

She catches the corner of her lip between her teeth and worries it as she often does. "An' lastly, my Auntie Aishling an' her wife Siobhan. She's fiery, Irish as can be, an' I suppose you could call her da current matriarch of da clan, much t' da Admiral's knicker-twist. She is also a peer, so I dunno if you wanna boddah wi' all da fancy formality of one of her social get togeddahs. Of course, I could arrange for us t' have a private dinner wi' her. We could fly an' get picked up Belfast Airport, or we could drive an' take da ferry..." She glances up to try to gauge his feelings about that.

[theotheradversary]

"Blood is thicker than water". Fucking Bible eh?

I like the counter point "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb".

The initial Bible quote is in reference to the blood of family can draw one astray from the light, god and the holy spirit.

But the counter point? That's lovely. And no reference to the Bible in that one. But purely about friends and family made through bonds is stronger than just blood lineage. This quote is from the... Early 1800s(?) i believe. Doesn't really matter. As long as there were free thinking minds, there will always be a clever person that would come up with something similar to that quote. It's just the most famous. But it was a poignant counter to the Bible quote. Also biting the thumb at religious belief on top of it all.

So. "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb". Keep that in your hearts my friends. It's one of the real truths of the world and reality as we know it. You can choose your own family and discard the link of blood.

My mum is a part of my family. And not because she gave birth to me, but because i chose her to be my mum. Which is very very very special. More special than "of the womb".

Others will choose another for their mum, guardian or similar. Because it is the right thing to do. Sometimes the family you're born into has really fucking shitty people in it. You may choose some or none to be apart of your Real, and i mean Real with a capital R, family.

Your family is built around your (hopefully) free thinking mind. You are never locked in to what ever life started your off with. Remember that friends.

Make your family. Never accept the default mode. Create. Develop. Love. Accept. You're fine the way you are (mostly, some of you are gods damned crazy/fucked out complete assholes and likely won't find a true family, being one of the few that are stuck with lineage). Remember. The people you accept have to accept you. So that bond is amazing and wonderful.

Find your love... Never be assigned it.

Love you all my friends!

Oh.. I'm looking at images of old scrolls, writs etc that have been uploaded to the net by various museums. It's been interesting seeing the detail that books like "Solomon's Key" and such have missed or out right ignored. Like the Puritans that translated the Solomon scrolls/writ, aka The "Solomon Key(s)" ignored every bit of the sex stuff. Knobs. Called it "arcana obscura". I think.

We need true modern historians to be given access to these old as Sin scrolls and writs so they can be properly analysed and translated. Now that we use digital technology, the artifacts can be preserved in darkness and climate control, while they/we will get amazingly detailed images/details, thus it can be translated by modern, objective eyes.

So I'm going to write to the museum's to revisit these artifacts and give us a modern, complete view. I think we'll find some amazing things that have definitely been missed.

Can anyone assist me with this endeavour? Ones that have better words, thoughts and understanding of the procedures involved?

I believe i have a contact at the museum in Munich. So I'll see if i can get into contact with them and see how such a thing can be done.

But.... Some help will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's only in writing a letter/request.

Again, love you all! Though, I'd appreciate it if you guys comment on my posts rather than just ❤️ it.

[neverluckygoldfish]

34 -

My family thinks I’m absolutely nuts. They’re constantly whispering to younger cousins “don’t copy her” and “she’ll always be the wild one, never thinking”. I was desperate to fit in but I never really did. And now I’m out here wondering why the hell I ever wanted to in the first place.

Blood is thicker than water, but water has the power to dilute the strength of blood.

True, I can be reckless and impulsive. If I want something, I have to have it. I am selfish and persistent in my pursuit. Whether or not it’s good for me is another story. I’m stubborn and sensitive, sometimes blindly optimistic.

But frankly, if we spend time waiting for the perfect moment….it’ll never come. No matter how much we plan and prepare, there are always uncertainties.

I believe we have to create opportunities for ourselves. I don’t want to wait around and wonder, I want to know. If I fail (is anything really a failure or just a redirection?), then I have more information than I started with. Something was still gained.

Some caution is a good thing. However, awareness + acceptance always > caution.

It’s not about succeeding - it’s about trying. It’s about having faith, trusting that things are always working out in your favor. Reflection and introspection, then continuing to move forward. Everything is a lesson, to teach us more about ourselves.

At the end of my life, I want to be able to say I lived a full one. That I didn’t hold back out of fear. That I didn’t succumb to being a victim of circumstance, I didn’t stay complacent within the status quo. I don’t want there to be any “what-ifs”. I want to be able to say that it all had to happen this way. That I understand the meaning of my story.

That I loved fiercely and passionately. That I didn’t allow the injustices of the world to harden me. That I used my pain for good, turned it into hope. That I continued to strive for better, that I never gave up.

That I didn’t do it perfectly, but I did it with compassion, self-respect, and grace. That I confidently pursued my dreams and I humbly acknowledged my mistakes. That my experiences shaped me, they didn’t just happen to me.

At the end, I want to say that I know who I am and what I stand for. That in my life, I made the most of it to become the truest version of myself.

[another-insomniac]

A Heart So Fragile

This story is not my own but of my Grandfather. A man who I had never met and had only heard stories told by my Mother and her siblings. He died before I was born and lived a life that was filled with tragedy and loss. And as much as I wish to rewrite a happy ending for him, I find myself just retelling his story as it was.

The story takes place in South America, where my mother is from. When my Grandfather was about 5 years old he was kidnapped and sold off to a family to use for work. They gave him a new name and told him to forget his parents and siblings, for his new life was with them.

When he was 6 years old, he cried about not wanting to go to school and so they told him that it was fine, but that he lost the privilege of education and so, he never finished school. Every night they would send him on a donkey in the middle of the night to run errands such as collecting water from the well. He would cover his head with a blanket out of fear and wait until the donkey stopped. Lucky for him the donkey knew the way. My mother would say this was the reason his heart was irregular, due to the sadness and the fear he suffered throughout his childhood that he was doomed to heart complications later on in his adulthood.

When my Grandfather was a young man, he met someone who recognized him. For my Grandfather had never forgotten his name. They told him where his home was and he rushed over to finally return home. Only to find out that his parents had already passed. And what did his siblings say to him after so many years? That the inheritance had already been split and nothing was left for him. Heartbroken, my Grandfather got ready to return home. However, just before he left, some women ran out of their homes and ran toward him. His cousins who remembered him rushed over to him and embraced him as they wept. My Mother said that was the first lesson I should learn. "We cannot choose who our family is but we can choose who we love and cherish. Blood is thicker than water but you need both to live. "

My Grandfather was not a perfect man but he did what he could for his family. He met my Grandmother and had many children. However, he never let go of his miserable past. Trapped in his own misery, he never worked for a future. Every business he had flourished temporarily but eventually closed. He admitted that he didn't know how to laugh. He would fake it when he sees everyone doing it but never understood the feeling. But don't get me wrong, he did enjoy the little things he had. He loved his daughters and son. The greatest things they ever gave him were grandchildren. My Grandfather had a stroke in his forties and once he recovered, he had a heart attack. My mother said that his heart just gave up.

Although I never met him, my Mother says that I'm just like him. I don't know if this is true or if it's just what she wants to see. But apparently, we have the same philosophy and way of thinking. And somehow I would say similar phrases as he did. Just translated it into English. My first name is actually his fake middle name, something my Mother forgot about when I was born. I am also not so ladylike. My mother would joke about me being her third and manliest son. And I would say that my mother raised me to be a gentleman. But perhaps, I get it from him.

My Grandfather did not die a wealthy man, but he had what he had searched for his entire life. He had a family who loved him and who still think about him even after over 30 years.

[kiss-my-freckle]

Something that pisses me off about Stefan stans is how they say Enzo spent a season "terrorizing" Stefan when Elena was subject more to being terrorized by characters like the Mikaelsons and Stefan himself. Stefan gets empathized with and has an episodes-long arc dedicated to his manpain while what Elena goes through is brushed off. Stefan gets told he was never scary and was the perfect boyfriend while Elena is shat on for ripping his heart out and for being a so-called heartless trollop even though Stefan didn't apologize for the shit he did and knew she was sired.

Stefan stans hate anyone who hurts him. They like to believe he's a precious little bunny rabbit, that nothing is his fault. He just hops around like an innocent creature with zero issues. Enzo's war against Stefan made sense, and I 100% mean this. He fought against Stefan for the same reason he teamed up with Lily. Enzo never had someone he could consider family. That's why he cherishes his friendships. Why he treats Damon like a brother should be treated. He's the one that spent months looking for Damon. Stefan gave up. Enzo is pissed that blood is thicker than water when it comes to the Salvatore brothers, and it shouldn't be. Even though Enzo acted as family, he got treated like an outsider. Even though he never gave up on Damon, Stefan got treated like the hero.

Anyway... that's why Caroline was meant to confront Stefan for turning Enzo in. Because the ONLY thing Enzo did to Stefan was tell him the truth. Brothers don't give up. The ONLY thing Enzo did to Stefan was force him to come home. If not for Enzo, Stefan would've been off living some kind of fake human life... then Damon would've come home from the prison world and been like... where's my brother? Stefan wasn't in love with Ivy. He could've moved on just as Damon did when Stefan killed Andie. He had Caroline to go home to, he simply chose not to. He chose to rage war against Enzo instead, turned him in for the sole purpose of getting him killed, and never mind how Damon would feel about that... and this was despite Stefan's belief that Damon was dead. If it were me, I would've held onto Enzo because Damon lives on through him so long as he's alive. Killing Enzo kills Damon.