#The Long Road

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[cas-backwards-tie]

Chapter One: In the Dead of Night

Vladimir Makarov x Reader

The Long Road Masterlist

Summary: Soon after your fiance's murder you find yourself diving face first into enacting a plan to avenge his death. Regardless of your friend's approval, your wellbeing, livelihood, or future, you find yourself in it for the long-con.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: Violence, Guns, Death, Major MW3 Spoiler, Main Character Death, Grief, Loss, Angst, Anger, Hatred, Revenge, Dark Themes,

A/N: This is... sooooo self-indulgent and utterly crack, tbh. I'd thought it up a while ago and keep thinking about it. I kept trying to think of a way to make it realistic, but... I just feel like there is no way of doing that, so I'm just gonna write it. However it goes, it goes. Also fyi I am using google translate so I really hope it's coming out okay. I do speak Russian, but only Duolingo tiny bit. divider by @saradika

You were prepared for this, you knew it was bound to happen one day, you just didn't know when that day would be. It only looks like, now, it's finally come. As you sit at the counter, stirring the bowl of oatmeal you'd just made and are trying your best to get to cool down, you can't help but think about the man currently in the other room.

You'd expected an entrance something akin to that of a Mission Impossible movie: a loud boom, doors knocked down, guns blazing, venomous words shouted in a language you've hardly begun to understand despite the tedious month of learning to the best of your abilities. Thunder cracks in the distance, rattling the windowpane in the next room; you don't know when the heavy downpour started, but it hasn't given any sign of yield since his arrival only a half hour ago now. Part of you can't help but think back to the myths and legends your husband... husband--your fiance--you remind yourself, mentally scolding as this isn't the first, and you doubt it's the last time you're going to mentally interchange the two words. Part of you can't help but think back to the myths and legends your fiance used to tell you.

The rain reminds you of the the way the Vikings would personify the Norse Gods to Earthly elements. Sure, you know some of the comics, like Thor, and Loki... but nevertheless, with your upbringing, the heavy pounding of the rain against the tin roof and the approaching thunder only makes your thoughts drift back to him. Johnny.

What would he think? What would he do? If he knew you were here... Maybe it's the spiritual part of you that never quite left, possibly having been ingrained from your grandparents when you were younger, or an aunt, an uncle of some sort, perhaps... but you think he'd do something silly like this. Come back as a thunderstorm, manifesting himself as something so threatening and dangerous, symbolizing his distress, unhappiness, and worry for you with torrents of rain, yet trying to protect you from the beyond even with lightning. Yet, you know that's impossible, and certainly not the case. Your heart begins to ache once more as you think of him, not wanting to get caught up, again, in the overwhelming grief you hadn't fully let yourself fall into. This is for him, you remind yourself once again.

"What are you giving her?" The voice comes from the doorway, and you're not entirely surprised by the venom in his tone, albeit taken aback. While he's not loud due to the (presumably) resting woman in the next room, you know that the lack of volume doesn't mean he wouldn't yell if the situation were anywhere else.

"What do you mean? This?" You quirk an eyebrow as you continue to stir in the little additives you'd put into the oatmeal: honey, sugar, and a pinch of salt. "It's oatmeal?" You explain, the confusion obvious in your tone as you hold the bowl up a bit, angling it for him to better see. As if the man has never seen oatmeal in his life; the thought would elicit a whirlwind of laughter from you any other time, or, more accurately, if it were any other person... but this was him. Makarov.

Vladimir Makarov: Thirty-six years old; born in Moscow Russia. Commander of Konni; the ultranationalistic private 'military contractor' group.

You'd done what research you could, found what information you had access to, some you didn't. Utilized what connections, resources, and favors were owed to you. Maybe some of them did it out of pity, out of guilt, or some other sense of failure on behalf of the SAS. Regardless, you'd set your plans into action, intent on making your promise to your late fiance come true. You will kill the man before you. It won't be today. No. After all, that'd be too soon, you have to earn his trust first. Only then, after he's comfortable, and settled, will you pursue your slow and agonizing torture.

"Христос," he curses, "she said you're poisoning her," he speaks slowly, a menacing quality to his tone as he unravels the crossed arms from his chest. Anger is evident in his irises as he stalks toward you with each step, eyebrows in a thick and harsh line. "I ask again-"

"The medication? Is that what you're talking about?" You ask. Feeling your own anger continuing to effervesce in your gut, you turn to face him on the stool, sliding from the counter. While he's still a couple feet away, you have to be more than a handful of feet shorter than him. Of that, you're sure. "Because from what I've deduced so far from being here, she bribed the last caretaker to not give her the medication on the agreement that she'd get more time off!"

He shifts his weight onto his left foot, eyes widening ever so imperceptibly, yet he remains quiet, so you continue. "They gave me her medication, told me to give it to her twice a day, so I'm doing that because she's been prescribed that medication. She clearly needs it, as per her doctor's orders. So unless you think the doctor isn't right, then, that's not my problem! I, however, am not surprised if she's telling you that since she obviously didn't even want me here in the first place."

Rounding the counter, you continue about your--at this point it could be considered daily--routine. Hand grasping your cool blue glass of water, you take a few sips while silently studying him. Despite having infiltrated his life and unknowingly (to him, ethically) disposed of his mother's last caretaker, you haven't officially met your late fiance's murderer till tonight.

KILLER

Slaughterer...! You destroyed him... You took him away from me. You're the reason he's gone. All the thoughts continue to run through your head rampantly, and you can't help but turn to face the wall opposite of him. Pretending to be busy with some of the drying dishes, you try to calm yourself. Acting on impulse and emotion will get you nowhere, you know this.

A heavy sigh permeates the silence that'd fallen between you, and there are the following taps of approaching dress shoes against hardwood floors. Quickly turning to make sure he neither invades your personal space nor dares to touch you, you're met with the visage of Makarov slumped at the counter, head in his hands.

You don't speak, you don't know what to say. Silence fills the space between you. Seeing him like this is weird considering all the stories you'd heard about him. Though you suppose even the most evil of men are still that... human. "How long have you worked as a caretaker?" He suddenly questions.

"A few years," you answer, swallowing the anxiety that starts to bubble up in your throat. "I started as a nurse and thought maybe I'd become a doctor, but it was... too much for me, and... not what I wanted to do. I discovered I liked helping people better as a nurse." It's not all lies, in fact, most of it is true. The only thing that meets your admission is silence, and that fact only raises the tension building within the cottage. Wincing at the rumbling outside, the sound does nothing to help the obvious discomfort you're experiencing finally facing him in person.

"And would you say you're good at your job?" He asks, eyes slightly narrowed in questioning as he slowly raises his head from his hands. The intensity of his dark brown eyes scream hostility and a hurt you can't immediately place your fingers on. Yet despite it all you refuse to waiver underneath his gaze.

"Yes. They wouldn't send me all the way out here otherwise. Not with a case like hers, Sir," you reply.

"Then what-" he tests, pronouncing each word clearly, "would you suggest I do?" He asks. There's a slight breathiness to his voice; with the thin windows, you can't help but feel as though the torrents of northern lake air through the meadow with its water.

Eyebrow raising in response, you're honestly shocked he'd ask such a thing. You're a complete stranger! A whirlwind of emotions go through you; excitement, bewilderment, shock, curiosity... you can't get ahead of yourself. With a sigh out, you shake your head. It may come across like disappointment to him, but really, it's to clear your head and collect yourself.

"Look... it's not something anyone wants to hear, bu-"

"Tell me!" He interrupts, demanding.

"But..." you emphasize, considering you were only putting up polite pretenses for show anyhow. "Really, family members do better when they're living with the family, even with caretakers to help. Whether you can't do it because you're busy or have other priorities, I understand."

"But at the end of the day, family members usually pass more quickly estranged like this on their own in a separate house because they feel lonely and like no one comes to visit. Maybe they have no one, or maybe they feel like they have nothing to live for anymore? She said you only visit her once or twice a year, if that... and while you write letters, that sometimes isn't enough for people, unfortunately. If you really want the truth."

Finished while your spiel, you shift your weight to the other foot as you place the finished oatmeal on the tray you reserve for his Mother. While, yes, you may despise him to the end's of the Earth... his Mother didn't do anything besides give birth to him. You accepted that the night you met her. Afraid to take another sip of your water, you stand in waiting, observant as Makarov seems to silently process everything you've said, his eyes shifting back and forth for a moment.

"I'll be back," he declares before sliding from the stool and rounding the corner into the small living space his Mother used to use more frequently. Shoulders sagging, a breath leaves you that you hadn't realized you'd been holding in. Onto your nightly routine with dinner, you attempt to distract yourself from the continuous torment of thunderstorm outside, meanwhile inside you can hear urgent demands in Russian faintly from the next room. It's clear he's on the phone... but with who? His goons, of course... right? Who else? But to kill you? To background check you? Do you need to prepare to flee?

As you stir the pot of soup you've just put on the stove, you can feel yourself start to sweat and panic. In an attempt to switch gears, you finish her dinner. Oatmeal ready, medication on the tray, you grab the lemonade you two had made the day prior and pour a glass for her before getting a steady grip on the tray and taking it down the hall. With a gentle rap of your foot as best you can against the doorframe, you announce your presence.

"Привет, Как вы себя чувствуете?" You ask, knowing the word for 'hi' and having figured out early on with the help of technology to ask how she's feeling.

"лучше теперь, когда он здесь." She responds with a soft but tired smile. It's a good sign that she's sitting up and alert at this time of night too. You don't understand the first part of what she says as she's talking too fast and you also don't have your phone out to capture what she says into your real time translation app, however you can grasp the last part. 'He's here.'

Placing the tray down on her lap, you shake your head and signal behind you with a frown. A second attempt, pointing to her, you give her a thumbs up and a smiling face for a moment, and then do the opposite. With a thumbs down and a sad face, you try again. "как дела?"

With a wave of her hand, she shakes her head now with a chuckle. "хорошо," she responds, lifting the spoon. "мой Володя!"

Whipping your head around, you find him standing there leaning against the doorframe most likely having been observing the two of you. Hopefully not for long... or maybe not at all since she would've said something. "она так просто с тобой разговаривает?" He says to his Mother, walking up to the bed and into her outstretched arms for the hug she craves.

"она не очень хорошо говорит по-русски," she quietly answers, holding him tightly for a moment, rubbing his back before letting go. With a pat on the bed next to her, she looks between the two of you. "My baby," she struggles to pronounce the word, "Vladimir." A proud smile sits upon her lips for a moment as she gestures to him. He smiles at her, too, and you nod.

"Yes, да. I have met your son just briefly. But it is good to officially meet," you tell her, even if you know she doesn't understand all of it. Shifting your gaze, he meets it with animosity. "Vladimir," you repeat.

"My mother tells me you are," he repeats your name, to which you nod, "it's a pleasure to officially meet you. Now that you're both here, I have news."

"News?" The question pops out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"Yes, news. Since you're taking care of my mother, you technically work for me. What you said stuck with me. You're right-" he shifts his speaking from you to his mother. "I've been a bad son to you, Mama. ты собираешься жить со мной." Again, he shifts his focus back to you. "We have to pack. You will both live on my compound from now."

~~~~~~~~

acronyms|translations:

Христос = christ

Привет = hi

Как вы себя чувствуете = how are you feeling

лучше теперь, когда он здесь = better now that he's here.

как дела = how are you

хорошо = good / fine / ok

мой Володя = my voldoya (nickname for vladimir)

она так просто с тобой разговаривает = she speaks to you so simply

она не очень хорошо говорит по-русски = she does not speak very much Russian

да = yes

ты собираешься жить со мной = you're coming to live with me

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

[andyevej]

outfit ideas for The Long Road by Chifuyu on AO3

[interstellarnewsnetwork]

[coreene]

Longsaddle

The hamlet of Longsaddle is little more than a row of buildings on either side of the Long Road, halfway along the lengthy journey from Triboar to Mirabar. A path leaves the road here and winds to the Ivy Mansion, the great house of the wizards of the Harpell family. Since the Harpells founded the town more than four centuries ago, they have brooked little nonsense and less mayhem. Their own behaviour sometimes borders on the bizarre and can be disturbing - they once turned two rival sects of Malarites into rabbits for disturbing Longsaddle with their squabbles, leaving them at the mercy of the predators they had honoured - but they are one of the most potent gatherings of mages anywhere in the North.

The Harpells are a jovial, if insular, lot. All wizards, they tend to marry wizards as well, and the elder women of the family (by blood or marriage) set the course for the house and utterly rule matters within the Ivy Mansion. The family takes on a number of apprentice wizards, using them for menial tasks and for basic defence of Longsaddle. Some apprentices are often the inadvertent test subjects for an experimental spell, but such is the danger of apprenticing to the Harpells. It is likely this spirit of experimentation that caused the Harpells to found their town so far away from other settlements. Young wizards with oddly sized or shaped limbs, strange hair colour, or shifting forms are fairly common sights in Longsaddle, not surprising to locals though they might give visitors pause.

Given the Harpells' reputation as powerful wizards, and the sheer number of them, there is no shortage of folk poking around Longsaddle and the nearby lands hoping to discover caches of magic, hidden like children's treasures. Of course, few, if any, such bundles exist, but the locals draw no shortage of entertainment from sending would-be thieves on grand chases for wands, rings, and other magic trinkets that any prudent person would realize simply don't exist. After all, if the average trader in Longsaddle knew where powerful magic was located, he would be more likely, down the years, to try to claim it.

The primary business of Longsaddle is ranching, and the lands surrounding the village are dominated by hundreds of ranches and farms of every sort and size, from tiny horse farms to great fields of cattle. During those days that livestock are brought in for trading, Longsaddle is a dusty, noise-filled place, with the sounds of the animals competing with the shouts of farmers hoping to sell their goods.

At all other times, it's a quiet, almost sleepy hamlet, except when the booming reverberation of a Harpell-crafted spell breaks the silence. The family is constantly researching magic both old and new, and twisting spells and rituals into interesting (to them) innovations. This proclivity has prompted them to surround Ivy Mansion with as many magical wards as the family can muster, in order to protect the populace from an errant explosion, terrifying illusion, or the odd, galloping horse of lightning speeding by.

Several businesses designed to attract travellers stand in Longsaddle, if for no other reason than travel along the well-named Long Road can be tiresome. The first is the Gilded Horseshoe, an old inn to the west of the road that serves fine food and drink, offers comfortable beds, and is close enough to the Ivy Mansion that no one would dare disturb it or its guests. The owners have access to some of the choicest cuts of meat in Longsaddle, and as a result, their roasts and stews are exquisite.

Across the road, the Ostever family serves as the local slaughterer and butcher for folk wishing to take meat, rather than live animals, away from Longsaddle. Rumour holds that the sausages have much improved down the years but buyers are advised to "mind the tusks" by locals, a reference to an old joke that none remember. Folk willing to wait can have the able hands of the Ostevers perform a slaughter, hanging, dressing, and packing for them, though this process is likely to take days longer than most travellers can spare.

There is entertainment to be had at the Gambling Golem, where cheaters in the card or dice games are tossed out into the street, and a local marbles game known as scattershields is popular. Dry goods, candles, lanterns, saddles, rope, and wagon wheels are available from a number of other shops.

It can't be stressed enough that while the Harpells have little interest in the daily running of Longsaddle, it is undeniably their town. They rarely suffer insults, and never tolerate violence against themselves, their family, or the locals. A conflict involving the Harpetls is likely to end swiftly and bloodily, and (unless the offender is convincingly apologetic, unconscious, dead, or forgiven of the wrongdoing) will often draw additional Harpells to support their kin. Harpell supports Harpell in all public matters, and no one bothers to record the numbers and names of those that forgot that fact.

Aside from the Harpells, the dominant families of Longsaddle are ranchers: the Cadrasz, Emmert, Kromlor, Mammlar, Sharnshield, Suldivver, and Zelorrgosz families have ranched in or near Longsaddle for generations, and influence most of the daily life there. They set the market days, help resolve disputes among families, and broker purchases when a farmer or businessperson dies without an heir. They settle smaller matters and keep the peace as best they can, knowing full well that if the Harpells need to get involved in a dispute, there is always the possibility of an offender's being blasted into nothingness.

These families are also the ones most likely to hire outsiders to deal with matters on the ranches, whether an ore raid or the appearance of lycanthropes in the area (though it's rumoured that the latter creatures may be the descendants of one of the Harpells). The major ranching interests often hire adventurers not only to further their own aims or provide for defence, but to secretly hinder or harm one another and gain an advantage in their ongoing competition. Adventurers that go too far on such a mission can be explained away as foolish outlanders, and if they offend a Harpell and get blasted in the middle of the Low Road, there will be no one left to ask about the matter. My best advice is to be mindful of the scent of magic in the air and act accordingly.

source: Sword Coast Adventurer’s Guide pg. 48-49, map

[hawkeykirsah]

Snippet Sunday

Hello, my lovelies! Since I actually worked on the next chapter of The Long Road today (shocking, I know, It's been a hot minute) I figured I could share a bit.

Kaidan stood for a moment, watching Nick and Liara escort the Prothean—Javik, he reminded himself—out of the shuttle bay with a security detail. He let out a slow breath before turning to the weapon's table and picking up his rifle, disassembling it with practiced moves before wiping it down with gun oil. "How'd it go?" Garrus' two-tonal voice carried over from the elevator just as Kaidan finished cleaning up the table.  "It went, " he replied laconically.  Garrus stepped next to him,  "What's this I hear about finding a Prothean?" "Mmh," Kaidan hummed, putting the gun oil in its place and wiping the table clean. "A real live and talking Prothean. Goes by Javik." He turned slighty, tossing the dirty rag into the bin. "Well shit, I bet Liara's having a field day." Kaidan huffed a laugh, gathering his weapons and stowing them away, "You could say that. Though I get the feeling he's not what she expected." "And Nick?" Kaidan grimaced, thinking about the stiff line of her shoulders as she marched Javik away and shrugged, "You know how she is." Garrus let out a slow breath, "Yeah."

[dashofmonsters]

The Long Road- Pt. 11

Male Naga x F!Reader

All night you both just kiss and hold each other until you fall into the most blissful sleep you've had in years. Silas holds you close like usual but this time he's sitting up against the bed and you're in his coils. He wraps you up in his tail and drapes the ridiculously large blanket over the both of you and passes out.

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

Come morning the poor naga is apologizing to you and you're thoroughly confused.

"Wait wait wait all we did is kiss and cuddle, we were both fine with it. Why are you freaking out?" you ask as he slinks off to a corner of the room and bangs his head against the wall.

"That was fine! More than fine! It's what I did afterwards!" he bangs his head against the wall again.

"You mean falling asleep?" you raise a brow and slide out of bed.

"Yes! Well no! It was how we fell asleep! That position is for mates! Gods I- I'm sorry," Silas bangs his head again and again.

You roll your eyes, "It's ok, it was just a one time thing. It means nothing right? Right?"

Silas looks to you, his silver eyes are watery and bloodshot. His lips purse and then he shakes his head, "It means a lot. It means-" He shakes his head again, "No, you're right it's nothing."

You grimace and stomp up to him, "No it's not nothing, not to you. What's going on? What did that mean to you? Do you not want to tell me because it'll just be one more thing I'll have to deal with? Well guess what, at this point anything new won't surprise me! Come on, lay it on me! What ever it i-"

"It means I want you as my mate."

"Oh," was all you can manage at first and then there was steam coming from your fists. Your face feels unbearably hot and your heart is beating like crazy.

"Yeah, so it obviously means nothing," Silas sighs and lowers his head.

"N-no it doesn't... I mean it means something to you. I just, I don't think I can reciprocate that at the moment. We're in the middle of a war and all and I'm flattered, I really am but just can we come back to that another time maybe? I'd need to think about it and you know this traveling thi-"

Silas wraps his arms around you and picks you up, "You'd truly think about?"

"When given the time to, but not right now... Not for a while," your lips purse and you let out a groaning sigh. "Listen, I like you a lot ok but let's just take this...what we have, one day at a time. We can circle back on this 'mate' thing after the war, maybe like a year after."

He nods his head but his eyes sparkle with some strange hope. You can't recall seeing him this excited about anything and you're the cause of it. That makes your chest strain and your heart flutter all at once.

"We should probably get the day started huh?" you squirm a little and he releases you.

"Oh uh yeah, probably," he gives you this nervous grin that makes you laugh.

It's an odd sort of silence of you both get ready. You help Silas tie up his hair, braiding it so it'll hold. He told you before either of you nodded off that he wants to start training with his uncles and Anyon wants to show him tricks behind teleporting longer distances.

As you both start down the hall you notice that there's a small group slowly forming downstairs. You spot Luctux leaving his room and he gestures at the crowd with a raised brow, both you and Silas shrug.

You spot Kat, Charlie, Elli, and Cavan in the crowd, each talking to small groups who just nod or grunt in response. Your aunt catches sight of you first and hails you over.

"Apparently Gustav rounded up any surviving crew members from the last war. Everyone here is against what Notus is doing and wants to put a stop to it lest they lose their hard fought peace," she looks over her shoulder to the crowd.

Your eyes widen at the sheer number, there had to be fifty maybe sixty people here.

"Are all these people old crew members of The Dread Maunder?" you ask, trying not to gape.

Kat snorts and shakes her head, "They're from each ship. Oh and lucky you I found out one of them is a fire elementalist too. Not as strong as having an ifrit or dragon, but she said she can teach you better control."

She scans the crowd before diving in and dodging person after person till she found her target to drag back over. Silas gives you a concerned look but you roll your eyes and laugh it off, "I think that's just how she is."

"Here! Here she is! Adelita, this is my niece, the one with the ifrit spirit," she grins and pulls forward a tall absolute brick wall of a woman with muscles twice the size of Thurl's. Her dark green skin is scarred and her long wavy black her curls around hair face is a short bob.

Adelita gives you a warm smile and nods her head, "Greetings small one. I had heard you look like Silver but you hold yourself much like Aella and I'd know, I was her first mate."

Your jaw drops. Not only is she an elementalist but she knew your late aunt... You shake your head and mentally slap yourself, no no of course she'd be all that and probably something more.

Adelita laughs at your stunned silence then pats your shoulder, "S'all right there lassy? Did you think your old man's crew were the only ones out there who'd be willing to drag Notus' arse back ashore for a good beating? I've got personal beef with that asshat going back before he was a captain, this is just a good enough excuse to beat his face in without his sister pleading me not to."

Kat rolls her eyes, "That aside, you were one of the few elementalists pirates back then. How many were there and how many survived?"

Adelita's expression sobers, she grumbles something before shaking her head, "Four, maybe five of us back then. All water types, none survived. King wanted all the magicy types killed off first. I only survived because of Calista, rest her soul. Saved me from execution and instead lit that cowardly king right up!"

Your aunt laughs and slaps your back, "Then you'd have no qualms training Calista's descendant?"

"You," Adelita looks at you with disbelief, her brows rising almost off her face. "You're Calista's...? And you have an ifrit spirit?"

You nod your head and back up a little and into Silas' arms. The orc woman runs a hand through her hair and grits her teeth in a strange contemplative way.

"Why do you suddenly seem so unsure of yourself?" Kat asks her.

"Oh I'm not...it's uh personal ya know. Training the descendant of the woman who saved ya, it's a lot. It's uh heavy ya know?" Adelita rubs the back of her neck, a dark green flush stains her cheeks.

"I get it, well sort of," you shrug. "Just know that if things aren't going right it'll be no one's fault but my own."

Adelita grins at you, "Well I guess that settles it. So when do I start kicking your ass into shape?"

"Tomorrow, since I was told I need to rest in between training," you smile.

Silas grips your shoulders and before you can turn around you hear a breathy chuckle from him, "And please, don't kick her ass too hard. I've already lost sleep hovering over her from her last injuries."

You snap and look up at Silas who's now wearing a cat-like grin, "Did you just crack a joke?"

Silas snorts, "I do have a sense of humor my dear, it's just been on the back burner since I've been in a constant state of concern as of recent."

"With Isa as your mother I'm surprised you actually have a sense of humor," Adelita chuckles. She makes a few more remarks in regards to her history with Silas' mother and details on your training before marching back into the crowd.

Kat is about to drag the both of you further into the crowd until Elli clamps a hand onto your shoulder. Normally well put together, she looks worse for wear. Her eyes look dry and bloodshot and her expression tired like she's at her wits end.

"We need to talk. People here are looking for some sort of order and head to follow. Word has gotten around that our father and former captain is out of commission and no one is wanting to take full lead," Elli bites her lip and sighs before looking at you and then Silas.

There's an uneasiness building up in your gut because you think you know where this is going but you really really hope that Elli's not thinking what you think she's thinking.

Silas squeezes your hand and he gives the girl a nervous smile, "And this has something to do with us I suppose?"

Elli nods, almost apologetically, "Since this has to do with her family, yes. She'd be the ideal figure head to follow. For you, your parents were close with her's and everyone kind of knows there's a uh relationship going on here so-"

"You want to take advantage of our relationship and our families history in the previous war to inspire the masses?" Silas grits, his lips curled back in disgust.

"More or less...It's just a strategy though and one of the few I can actually conjure up that sounds like it'd work. It's up to either of you if you want to take the lead though, and from what I've heard, I doubt there will be any objections," Elli crosses her arms and looks back to the crowd. "We're going rogue without the King's backing here to protect our people. I don't know what's going on in the castle and I haven't heard high nor low from any of my informants I've sent."

"And Singred?" Silas snaps.

"Still in hiding and still safe. He updated us yesterday, his own concerns are growing as well," she sighs. "So we need a rogue leader for a rogue army because we can't count on the king to back us. My father and I have already started speaking with other towns and cities about Notus and-" Elli pauses and takes a deep breath, "Three port towns have been overrun already. They're saying Melmar is next once the worst of winter passes."

Your heart sinks at that. Your hometown is on the path to being destroyed. All those people... the fishermen, the shop keeps, the elders you would sit with in the morning to mend nets with....

"I'll do it then," you grind.

"You want a rogue leader, fine," you spit. "I'll be the rogue leader if it means getting people to Melmar and fast."

"Rogue leaders then," Silas dips his head down. "You're not going in this alone. My home village is nearby too and most of my people are hibernating for the season."

Elli straightens and nods her head, "I'll let Gustav know and I'll send word to Brakkor tonight as well."

She starts to turn but you catch her shoulder, "You made this personal for a reason and I don't trust that. What are you hiding?"

She stiffens and sighs. Her weight shifts under your grip but she doesn't attempt to brush you off, as if annoyed that she got caught.

"Later. Once your positions have been announced we'll talk about it. I just need to-" Elli staggers and clutches her head. You catch her and with Silas' help are able to drag her over to one of the benches. She swats at any fussing and groans like a petulant child, "Tonight, I'll tell you tonight after you've been appointed and all just-"

Before she can say anything else she passes out and nearly falls over. Luctux, who had been looking for her rushes her to Isa. A look of worry and longing lace his every glance at her and then you're reminded of how she cried after that long talk Silas and the others had with her and her family.

"They're in love aren't they?" you blurt and try to clear your throat and play off what you just said but Silas nods his head and looks after them.

"He will deny it but yes. I think since becoming a litch he's decided to keep a certain distance with people, especially those he cares about... but Elli, I think he's having the hardest time staying away from her," Silas sighs and turns back to the crowd.

Groups have formed now and people keep eyeing the both of you and giving acknowledging nods. There's an added edge of expectancy now that you've opted for the figure head leader position, not quite in charge but enough to get things moving you suppose.

"Things are about to start sooner than expected," you grimace.

"The sooner we start this, the sooner we can end it," Silas pulls you towards him and your eyes meet his cold steely gaze, any of that warmth from this morning is completely gone.

You suck in a breath and look back out at the people who started shuffling about, "You sound so sure about that."

Silas runs a claw up your neck and to your ear causing you to shiver. He dips down right next to you and leans in to whisper, "Wishful thinking my dear, honestly I just want this whole thing over with so it can just be us again."

"Another time Silas, we need to focus on-" whatever you were going to say you quickly swallow and bury at the sight before you.

Choas.

Pure and utter chaos.

"Everyone file out back!" Kat yells.

"Elli is still out!" Luctux shouts.

"Gustav! Fuck! Gustav's been shot!" you hear Culann curse.

Glass shatters and flaming arrows fly through the hall igniting whatever they land on. Someone tugs on you but you're frozen in place. The air is suddenly knocked out of your lungs and in a blink you're in the middle of a forest watching that lovely manor go up in flames.

"No...no no no no!" the words start to trip from your mouth as you try to scramble back.

"Stop it will you!" Silas snaps at you and turns you around.

"I need to-"

"You need to get a grip on yourself before you do anything else!" his claws dig into you and nearly slice your clothes. "You hesitated, that can get you killed my dear!"

The sound of someone screaming wrenches your gut and you want to, you need to go back, you need to help, but-

"What will you do if you go back? What is y-"

"Enough!"

Both you and Silas whip your heads around and see Anyon holding an unconscious Gustav over his shoulder.

"Go back now," Silas' uncle growls and before anyone can argue you're being teleported but without your naga.

Your worst nightmare is being played out before you now. Your brother is clutching his side, blood staining his tunic and Helena is shouting, begging for Isa who is holding Lir down as he writhes while Culann helps pull an arrow from his leg. Your father is shouting at Cavan to let him go until he sees you, his eyes wide with a mix of relief and rage.

"No one saw you leave," Anyon slithers past you and slowly deposits Gustav onto the snow. "Though I suspected the reasons."

Your lips tighten and you look back to the manor, white hot rage building up in your chest. The ifrit spirit within stirs in a way you've never felt it and it's both terrifying and amazing all at once.

"This is just the start you know," Anyon adds right as Silas teleports and slithers to your side. "War isn't pretty and it's not a game. It's real lives at stake here! It's-"

The world spins upside down as you land onto the ground with Silas right on top of you. He curses and gasps and screams before he's being lifted up.

Everything stops when you see the first stream of blood run down his arm.

An arrow had hit him... No, it was two... maybe three...

You turn over and vomit violently into the snow, the weight of the world pressing down hard and then nothing, nothing but pure heat and pure rage.

This time you'd be in control, this time for sure because both you and the ifrit spirit inside of you want the same thing right now: to put an end to this.

It's a blur at first, the fire, the bald elven caster screaming and laughing, the begging, the pleading, the arrows... oh so many arrows. It starts to clear after you catch the first archer in your claws, a feeble tiefling with dark violet skin and sickly white eyes. They begged for mercy, you can't recall if you showed them any.

Things became crystal clear at the last archer, you had dragged them by the back of their neck and slung them against the tree in the back where everyone was at. You said little to the archer, pretty sure they couldn't move since their arm was broken. A mistake you made when you caught them and they slipped and fell out of the tree.

"By the gods," you hear your father whisper.

Everyone had paused whatever they were doing you realize and had held onto each other when you went berserk. You look down at yourself and feel... you feel...

You did what you had to do, you remind yourself and shake away those doubts.

Hesitation can get you killed...

You close your eyes and try to center yourself, but neither you nor the ifrit spirit want to let go of this form just yet.

What if there are more archers?

What if they're on the way?

What if...?

What if...?

"Breathe, fire child, breathe," a large hand holds your shoulder firmly.

You open your eyes and see Adelita bedecked in flames and her hair now of ruffling firebird feathers.

"It's over now," her grip tightens as she forces you down into the snow.

"It's over..." she repeats, again and again till you finally feel the words deep in your bones.

You curl into yourself as you feel her shoveling more and more snow on top of you, tears and a silent cry escaping your mouth as the realization of what you just did occurs to you.

Gentle hands rub your cheek, so cold, so so cold.

So nice...

So nice...

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

"They have the upper hand in this, they've had it for a while," is the first thing you hear when your crusty eyes begin to peel open.

"Tracking magic, Cavan... They have it on every single one of their agents. This is beyond just petty family revenge at this point. They have legit soldiers from Roskar. The archer she caught and kept alive told us that much. This is bigger than what we thought," you hear Luctux hiss as you try and sit up.

A firm clawed hand gently pushes you back down. You try and blink the crust from your eyes but a warm wet towel sops up the mess and you shudder.

"Rest... and listen. We'll talk once they leave the room," Silas whispers as he rubs your cheek.

All you can do is nod, feeling too much and not enough to do or say anything.

"Roskar has had its eyes on Malredra for hundreds of years but their navy has been subpar compared to Hildaren and Esvaal and their ability to unify for anything only lasts until one lord decides he's too tired with playing nice and sticks his dagger in his neighbor's throat. But with Notus, if he's taken charge then no Roskarian lord can make a move without his say so. He'd have made sure that they know what happens to them if someone steps out of line..." your father grits, you hear his fingers tapping and scrapping against the table he's at.

The room is silent save for a few gruffs and thoughtful groans. You hear the annoyed tapping of drider legs and feel Silas' tail thump in contemplation.

"I might know someone," Luctux starts then clears his throat. "He might be a little hard to get a hold of but he owes me, that and he's family. He mans a small fleet that I helped get him started with and he knows his way with combat on land and sea."

You hear murmuring and agreeing sighs and your father's grumbling as he chews his pipe.

"I can call upon my order, their removed from the main one that follows the king's orders. We might want to... I know that we don't want to, but we might have to consider that the royal family has possibly been compromised," Charlie adds and the room's tension explodes into a flurry of harsh whispers.

"Not possible, they have been," Elli's sister, Cavan's fiancé corrects. "The enemy doesn't just have the upper hand... They have all of Malredra in its hands. Roskar has the crown prince and the youngest of the princesses. The king is to not send a single order for any naval or military action-"

It's Gohar who explodes in rage first followed by Gustav and then it's a cacophony of anger and spitting and fists slamming and...

"Who was it that struck first against my kin and I during the war?!" your father shouts and the room silences immediately.

"Who shot me first?! Who shot me right out of my bloody ship!? Silver... A mercenary, born and raised on this bloody rock we all call home now. The ballsiest fucking woman I've ever laid eyes on and it was she who threatened to slit my throat, not a scum licking king's soldier," You hear the chair he'd been sitting in clanking over as he stands, his boots scuffing the floor as he turns. You move the towel that's been covering your eyes and through your blurred vision you see your father.

Stern and sober and standing taller than you've ever seen him stand.

"I could have gone back to Esvaal with her and started a whole new life there, but the people here make Malredra what it is... Not it's kings. If Notus forgot this then we'll damn sure make him remember it!" He raises his fist and pounds it down against the wall.

Your chest tightens and a fluttering heat fills you with his words.

"Aye!" Charlie raises his own fist and slams it against his heart.

The room explodes once more save for Luctux, Cavan, and Elli's sister who's expressions are dark and knowing. The tiefling raises his hand catching the eyes of Gustav and Culann, both calming down and sobering into something fierce.

"Friends, this isn't like the last war. Bravado can only go so far... The Lady Eloise Maher's informants brought more news than the king's inability to protect his own people," Luctux pauses and waits for everyone to settle in. All eyes on him...

"With the crown in Roskar's hands the easiest thing to do would be to force a marriage or treaty but that's not what Notus wants. The crown prince and the youngest princess are in his hands as an act of some sick twisted mercy because he plans to execute the rest of that family," the tiefling spits.

Your father's jaw sets and his teeth grit and bare, "It ain't mercy if they're going to be the first to go."

The air in the room freezes over and you see Helena grip Isa, "But they're just children."

"Doesn't matter. Aella wanted peace, begged for it when she was beaten, bloodied, and broken. Begged and cried and all it got her was death...," you father sneers and settles back into his seat.

"So then what?" you hear Peter grunt, leaning against the wall.

"Lady Eloise has agents and informants in every crevasse of Malredra. We're down by a few days on receiving any viable information and keeping up with it. For now, we gather and reinforce. We strengthen and rebuild. What Roskar lacks in numbers they make up for in force and intelligence. What we lack in that we make up for in numbers, in unity and loyalty," Luctux's voice echoes through the charred hall and his words practically resound into the souls of everyone present.

Charlie pledges to the loyalty of his order. Gustav promises to drag every sword sworn orc from his home village and Lir smirks when he says he knows a good few hundred elves who owe him a few favors. The crowd starts to dwindle as everyone makes plans to speak with their people and kin, to rally swords and magics to protect their homes.

Soon enough all that's left is Luctux, yours and Silas' family. Helena had move to Peter's side, both of them holding onto one another as if the time they had together might come to an end soon. Isa's eyes watered before she inhaled sharply and excused herself.

Your father squares himself as he stands up, his shoulders popping as he stretches, "A right mess is what this is. Should have been content to be a fisherman like my father but Notus..." Your father shakes his head and laughs. "Big schemer that one. Aella the dreamer and Zale the cleaner... Always got to clean up after them and here I am decades later and three kids and I'm still cleaning up after them."

He shakes his head and laughs again before turning to Peter and Helena, "I have a friend in Hildaren that can keep you safe and far away from all this. I can't get either of you... No Peter keep your fucking mouth shut! Your wife is pregnant, you're limping now and will only get in the way. I'll send word to Roslyn, I'm certain Kano can get you and Helena there through the waters safely."

Peter shakes his head slowly, desperately as if this is his first and maybe last time seeing his father. Helena holds your brother and leans into, whispering something that makes his eyes steady with a horrid resolve.

"You call us back then when it's all over... You call us back and greet your grandbaby, you hear," Peter glares at your father and then to you. "And you, light those bastards up..." and now Silas, "Keep her safe... keep her sane."

"I can have us to the coves by morning. Are you certain that this is what you want Zale?" Luctux places a hand on your father's shoulder.

"We're doing this... the sooner the better," your father sniffles and gathers your brother off the wall.

It's a slow march out of the burnt hall and to the doors that were just hanging by the hinges. Your father turned and gave you a slow and silent nod and then he was gone.

"Anyon is taking them to the furthest waypoint he can. The Gilli point can't be used with the enemy so close," Silas explains.

"I see," you grind out, coughing hard afterwards.

Silas sits you up and brings a cup of water to your lips. The transformation hadn't left you as bad off as the first time but the side effects still hurt.

"There were twelve archers in total you know. Twelve and the caster got loose and you... Did you know what you were doing? Did you-"

"Yes," your lips tighten as you try to hold back every bit of emotion, every feeling you have for what you did.

"Why did you do it?" Silas asks and you snap your eyes up to his.

"Why?! You're asking me why you idiot?!" you shove him and he winces in surprise.

"Why?! I'll tell you why you big stupid idiot?! They fucking hurt you and and I just..." your arms are flailing about feeling absolutely outraged by his stupid question.

"You're so fucking dense Silas!" you try and jump off the bench but Silas pulls you back down.

"No, no you don't get to call me an idiot and then walk off! Do you know how torn up I've been about all this?! You fucking froze during the attack then Anyon forces you back here and then I get fucking shot and then you go fucking berserk and then the next thing I know you're tossing a limp fucking elf against a tree before Adelita forces you to stand down. So sorry if I'm a fucking clueless idiot who's only thought these past hours is if the woman he loves is ever going to wake up again!" Silas' shouts the last bit and his grip on you tightens hard before loosening up completely.

He runs his claws through his hair as he looks away cursing under breath and wincing as he touches his left shoulder. You skootch a little closer and gently place your hand against his cheek. His eyes close, painfully hard as he clutches your free hand and brings it to his other cheek.

"I wish we had actual time for you to properly discover this power of yours. I wish there wasn't a war getting in our way. I wish that we could just go with Helena and Peter and pretend that none of this has anything to do with us... Shit I wish I could wish for that but deep down I want to protect my home, my people just like you do," he melts into your touch and you bring yourself closer to him.

"Silas, I just-"

"Neither of us are ready for this. You hesitate and I underestimate, both factors can get us and those around us killed. You understand that don't you?" he opens his eyes and all you can do is nod when the cold steel of his gaze meets yours.

Both you and your ifrit spirit felt a tinge of guilt. Both of you felt rage for Silas' pain and now this. You can't help to let out a breathy laugh as you shake your head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~NSFWish~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He's got me completely wrapped up in his coils

"My dear what's wro- mmmmphhh?!"

You hate when he gets serious on you. You hate this war. You hate getting out of control. But Silas, just normal happy regular Silas, you liked him a lot. You want to bring him back, even for just a little bit.

His lips part as he sucks in a breath and his hands grip your hips firmly, "We're not done talking you know."

"Then keep talking," you kiss his neck and he shudders.

"We'll be heading for.... heading for my village in a couple weeks," Silas hisses as you keep peppering kisses against his neck.

"Who all is going?" you ask, hands gliding up and over to his bandage shoulder and arm.

"Aside from us? Adelita, Gustav, Culann, Thurl, and- fuck" in your attempt to get even closer you had straddled him and incidentally ground yourself against him.

"And?" you nibble his neck again and he chokes on his words.

"And Luctux... My dear I need you to st-ahh," Silas still when you kiss his ear and his clawed hands flutter at your hips.

Before you try to nibble his ear he quickly grabs your hands and forces you to look up at him, "Where is all this coming from all of a sudden? Are you alright my dear?"

He looks so distressed and concerned and you can't help but to burst out laughing.

"I'm sorry! I am! I just don't like seeing you so mad at me and then I just felt like kissing you and touching you till you stopped looking so angry and I just! I don't know? Maybe I'm a little hysterical right now but I just, I'm feeling a lot and I'm processing everything all at once and now it's just dawning on me that you said you love me and and-"

It was Silas' turn to shut you up with a kiss now. His teeth nibble your lower lip till you open for him. His tongue works wonders on yours till you're dizzy and limp in his arms.

"I'm going to end up going mad because of you," he whispers against your neck as he picks you up.

"That feeling very very mutual Silas," you smile and hold him as he slithers up the burnt stairs and down the hall to your burnt room.

Tomorrow you'd ask about how the fire was put out but tonight you'd hold him in your arms.

<Previous Pt.10

[guffiestuffie]

The Long Road

[thepermanentrainpress]

Gallery: Nickelback @ Rogers Arena - Vancouver, BC Date: June 28, 2023 Photographed by: Tom Russell

[mirainawen]

gothel handing sam and dean a deaged adam in the long road be like

[taylor-titmouse]

All goblins require at least 3 hours of skin to skin contact a day to be considered healthy. Most get this through sexual activity, but nothing beats a good cuddle.

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[cas-backwards-tie]

The Long Road Masterlist

Vladimir Makarov x Reader

Summary: After your fiancé’s murder, you’ve come up with a plan to avenge him. Now in Russia, you’re thrust into a country, a language, and a fake identity you know next to nothing about. Forcing yourself into his life was easier than you’d anticipated, now the only problem is you’re worried someone’s catching onto your lies.

Chapters: In The Dead Of Night |

Warnings: Violence, Guns, Death, Major MW3 Spoiler, Main Character Death, Grief, Loss, Angst, Anger, Hatred, Revenge, Dark Themes,

Mentions of:

[themovementquality]

Daily gifs 127/365

Maya Loureiro in The long road

[fiction-quotes]

And up ahead, somewhere on the road: the point past which it is longer to travel back home than to go forward into the unknown. Already, miles and miles of dust lie between me and my old life. But the distance was not the difficulty – that life was no longer mine.

  —  The Long Road (Heidi Heilig) from Unbroken: 13 Stories Starring Disabled Teens