#a nightmare is fed before it is born

[cokiemace]

sebastian's journal

[alienzil]

DP x DC Prompt/notion # 4

So Danny has the classic reveal gone bad scenario and the Fentons try to capture him to "tear him apart molecule by molecule".

Danny escapes into the ghost zone with the help of Sam, Tucker and Jazz but he's in bad shape.

What Danny had never been told is that newly formed ghosts like himself are considered babies until they're at least a century old. Baby ghosts generally either have parents if they're born in the realms or get adoptive parents shortly after forming and are highly dependent on their guardians until their core is fully matured. Every ghost can sense a baby and has the instinctual urge to protect them (especially if they haven't been adopted yet). Every baby ghost has the instinctual urge to find a compatible parent or parents. A baby won't imprint on just anyone and will hide or run from most ghosts until they find one that they can imprint on. The majority of the ghosts that have met Danny never knew he was a baby, both because he already had his living parents and his emotional connection with them was close enough to satisfy his ghostly need for a parental bond and because, with his abnormally high power level, it never would have occurred to them to think he might be an infant. A newborn ancient is exceptionally rare and your average denizen of the realms will have never seen one. Basically, to your average ghost, Danny feels like he's eons old and any hint of "baby" they get from him mostly just ticks them off because they think he's mocking them and pretending to be less powerful than they know he is. The other ancients knew of course, but they also knew that Danny's human guardians were satisfying his needs for now and most assumed he would be adopted once they passed. Half a century or so isn't very long to wait after all and the new baby is half human so it's probably best to let these things happen naturally.

Knowing none of this, when Jack and Maddie rejected Danny it severed their connection and the backlash of losing that bond caused his Phantom self to naturally revert to a smaller form that more closely matched his actual age as a ghost. Still in shock and operating almost entirely on instinct and emotion, Danny started to search the Realms for what he had lost. He needed to find his parents.

*****

Meanwhile, John Constantine had a problem with an upstart cult that had summoned an interdimensional...something. He really didn't care. Whatever it was, was behind a barrier they'd thrown up that he couldn't breach. He'd be perfectly willing to leave them to their own mess except their whole damn town was behind the barrier so now it was his problem to fix.

Interdimensional problems call for interdimensional solutions so he'd called Bob. Bob wasn't really his name (nor was he really a he) but he hadn't objected to the moniker or the pronouns John had given him so Bob it was. Bob was an eldritch nightmare of a creature who kept the bulk of his true form politely out of this dimension and only just barely inched in for a quick visit every 20 years or so. Constantine had worked with him before, he was a pretty nice bloke for an unknowable monstrosity.

Bob fed on energy and his usual diet consisted largely of the background energy of the cosmos but he liked a special treat now and then (who doesn't?). So John made a deal with him. Bob took care of his little cult problem and John spent a very... ahem... "energetic" evening with Bob in exchange. Not really a hardship on John's part, Bob wanted more energy, not less, and knew a thing or two about how to get it.

*****

The creature known as Bob was preparing to withdraw the small portion of his presence that was currently on Earth with the human called John Constantine when another part of him noticed something. Bob smiled to himself (as much as Bob could smile that is). What a wonderful coincidence that the Constantine human's energy would be so perfectly matched to this other beings and that Bob was here at the exact right moment to assist with their meeting!

"I thank you again for sharing your energy John Constantine. It was delicious as always."

"Don't mention it mate. Look me up next you're in town and feeling a bit peckish. Always happy to oblige." John replied with a smirk.

"I will heed your words John Constantine and seek your presence upon my return. As a token of my affection for you, a small gift that you might enjoy until we meet again." Bob briefly opened a portal between the Infinite Realms and the House of Mystery as he left. He hoped his human friend would enjoy the gift. Bob had never spawned himself but he'd heard parenthood was one of life's great joys.

"Gift?" John had just enough time to say as he was hit in the face by a chirping, wriggling, excited creature.

"Oi!" John stumbled back a step as he reached up to try and pry the thing off his face. He managed to grab ahold of the damn beast and held it out at an arms length to get a look at it. Deprived of his face, it wrapped its body tightly around his arm and nuzzled its head into the palm of his hand.

John stared at the creature. It was the roughly the length of his arm, mostly black with white markings and white floating hair on a human shaped head and face, complete with glowing green eyes. It was vaguely snake shaped...or... one might say...tentacle shaped...

John gulped and pictured Bob. Bob's appearance, or what little bit of his appearance John was able to perceive, was a writhing mass of black tentacles that glowed a bright, luminous green.

So, the "gift" Bob had left him mostly had Bob's coloring and was kinda Bob shaped. Except it had small human arms and hands and a tiny mostly human head and face and... was that his nose?!

"Oh bollocks, I'm a dad!"

[allfearstofallto]

Soo, I just saw your yandere diluc and Amelia, I was wondering if there is any scenario or at least a moment where reader treats Amelia well, I can't stand it anymore that she doesn't feel love from her mom 😭😭, girl's just a cutie pie

TW: angst, afab reader, reader has children, yes this is still a yandere Diluc story <3

Did you know that Amelia has a secret? Something not even her own father knows? Well, she does. And you're the only person who she's told it to.

Amelia is plagued by nightmares. Bad dreams about monsters and ghosts. It's even worse when she wakes up in her bedroom, all alone and in the dark. In the pitch black darkness, all the shadows look like creatures out to get her and the only place safe is beneath her covers. She'll hide there, trembling in fear and covering her ears with her hands, all the creaks and groans of the old manor, sound like walking and talking in the mind of a scared child.

Amelia never tells her father about her bad dreams or fear of the dark. Diluc already has a tendency to be overbearing when it comes to her. His love for her being so strong, a little too strong. She's made a name for herself of being independent, despite him, and would hate for that to all be washed away if she told him she was afraid.

Stormy nights are the worst. The wind howls and the trees tapping against the windows sound like claws trying to get in. When a particularly loud thunder strike booms, she jumps out of her bed and runs. She doesn't know why she runs, but she does, straight towards her father's room. Her pride would have to be put aside for this battle, he was the only one who could protect her.

But, before she could reach his door, she bumps into something at full speed. Falling back on her behind, she whimpers out in pain. She knows the manor like the back of her hand, having lived there since the day she was born. She could navigate the place with her eyes closed, and even better in the dark. Yet she still ran into something. She ran into you.

Gulping a bit in fright and in fear of what you'd say to her, she helped her head down as she stood and dusted off her night gown, "I'm...I'm sorry," she muttered, her eyes welling up with tears as she expected to receive those rude words from you and the look of disdain.

"Where are you running to this late at night?" You questioned. Much to her surprise you didn't sound angry or disgusted by her presence. You sounded worried. Like you truly cared about what she was doing.

Amelia pointed to Diluc's door with her finger, "Daddy's room." She said, wide eyes looking right up at you.

You looked back at the door then down at the girl. She wasn't saying it, but you could see it. The way her eyes were wide with fear and filled with tears, the way her little hands trembled while gripping the hem of her dress. She was scared. Scared of the storm. Just like you were.

"You know he's asleep, right?"

Amelia nodded slowly.

"But I'm awake," you assured her, "Would you like to sit with me?"

Her deep red eyes opened to the side of saucers at your words. Never once was she even allowed to be near you, she even remembered being told that she was bottle fed because of it. Anger should've made her say no, but the excitement of finally spending time with you, her mother, made her not care anymore. She held your hand tight as you guided her down the stairs, like if she didn't, this version of you would disappear and she'd be alone on the dark again.

You led her to the kitchen, were you lit a few candles. And sat Amelia promptly on the counter. She didn't ask what you were doing, afraid that anything she said would cause a switch to flip within you. She was quiet and attentive, like she was always told to be during her lessons. Watching as you poured some milk into a pot on the stove, not saying anything, but still smiling weakly. She'd never seen you smile before. Not around her at least.

"I'm also scared of storms," you finally said and even though you were telling her something bad, she smiled. You and her had something in common. She never thought she'd have anything in common with you, except her face that Diluc complimented her on constantly. Saying that she got all her beauty from her mother.

"And the dark too?" Amelia asked softly. You were the first person she was telling her secret to and her heart was about to pound out of her chest at the thought of rejection from you.

You hummed a bit, pouring two glasses of milk as you thought about it, "I used to be." You handed Amelia one of the glasses, holding the other for yourself, "Sometimes, I still am."

It was like a weight was lifted off of her shoulders at your admission. You were by far the most independent person she knew. Even if she thought you hated her, she saw you as fearless. So to know that you too felt fear, of anything at all, made her less tense around you.

Amelia took a sip of her warm milk and you did the same. It was sweet, like honey, and she downed the glass of a few moments, whipping her mouth with the sleeve of her dress. The two of you didn't talk much while you finished yours, but Amelia couldn't help, but to stare. In the candle light, with the crackling of thunder outside, you looked like an entirely different person.

You picked her up when she finished and she rested her head on your shoulder. You flinched a bit, but patted her back regardless. It was the first time you'd held her, or at least, the first time she could remember. She felt safe in your arms, even safer than she did in her father's. It wasn't long before the warm milk and the warmth of your body had its effect on her, and she was snoring peacefully on your shoulder.

Amelia woke up the next morning under her mountains of sheets and stuffies, not remembering how she got back to bed. But remembering the night she had, a part of her thought she'd dreamt it. If she did, it was the best dream she'd ever had on a stormy night. But the slight sweetness on her lips told her it was real.

Amelia had two secrets now, one was that she was scared of the dark and the other, was that she has someone to go to when she was feeling afraid.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

born to die - m. murdock

a/n: IM NOT DEAD i am very busy with finals but this has been rattling around the old noggin for a while now. i took a lot of inspiration from @ellephlox 's fic strawberry rhubarb which i 100% reccomend bc its better than most fics including this one! hope you enjoy! as always reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: oh boy. torture (cutting, burning) some sexually suggestive talk (nothing happens but it's not consensual) readers dad abused her, nightmares, lots of major character death (but not permeant) ANGST!!! but with a happy ending! kidnapping, medical stuff, cursing, and if i missed anything, let me know! word count: 4.8k summary: as matt murdock's wife, your life is rather full of surprises. getting kidnapped by wilson fisk takes the cake as the worst one. pairing: matt murdock x wife!reader now playing: born to die - lana del rey "choose your last words, this is the last time/'cause you and i, we were born to die"

You would think after patching him up too many times to count, five years without him, and countless sleepless nights worrying if he was alive, you would think you’d be used to Matt Murdock and his world of surprises.

And then you get kidnapped, so maybe you’re not so immune to surprises.

It’s really such a shame too, because you’re storming out of the apartment, too angry to take notice of your surroundings.

Silly, foolish, ditzy you.

Because it isn’t like Matt hasn’t told you time and time again that you need to be careful, especially when you go out alone at night. But he’s so angry that he doesn’t even think about the potential dangers of Hell’s Kitchen at three a.m. when Daredevil has been tucked away for the night and Matt Murdock comes back out to play.

He’s been taking more and more patrols because with Fisk being out of prison he can’t help but be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

How silly he was to think that maybe he could have it all—A successful law firm, good friends and a loving wife.

Silly, foolish, ditzy Matt.

But after a week of nonstop patrols, you’re both fed up and tired, and above all, you’re yearning for each other. Neither of you allow yourselves to be totally happy all the time. It would just make everything too easy.

So, after yelling at each other over, what? Patrols? Cases? Burnt dinners? You’re freezing on the streets, and you get about five blocks before you stop and rub your eyes.

This is dumb, you rationalize. Of course, you’re both stressed out and tired, but you’ve gotten through rougher times before, and you both made an oath. To each other, in front of his God, to love each other no matter what.

You realize you left your wedding ring on the table, the ghost of the metal around your finger haunting you. You were dumb for leaving and Matt was dumb for telling you to go. You’re made for each other.

You turn around to go back to your shared apartment, and then, someone grabs you from behind. Your first instinct is to yell for your husband, but you don’t get the chance to before you’re knocked out, by what you can only guess to be a gun or maybe a large fist.

• • •

You wake up in this dingy room, the lighting not suitable for much of anything except to make you afraid. The set up is almost comical and in a fucked up away, stereotypical for a kidnapping. You’re tied up to a chair, and the lights shine only bright enough so you can see shadows and rats scurrying along.

The air is this weird musk of salt and earth, and you realize you’re near the docks, and that’s about all you know about your current location.

Your head is still pounding from whatever it was you were hit with, but you can see another chair a few feet from you and a wooden table with various weapons laying on it. You don’t feel good about this one. Also on the table is an old school record player. You have no idea what the intention is with it.

You try to keep your cool, knowing that wherever you wander, your husband will not be very far off. That whatever is happening, he will be coming to find you no matter how upset he is for whatever it was you were fighting about earlier.

And then, out of the shadows, there he is. 

But he’s too big to be Matt, and he has a man standing next to him.

Frank, maybe?

And then you realize who this man is.

He’s Wilson Fisk, the kingpin who has done nothing but torture and kill people, shoving it in Matt’s face for years. Matt only met you after Fisk was put back in prison, and you know at some point in the five-year blip without Matt, he had escaped prison.

So, this is the first time you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fisk. When he meets your eye, you do nothing but stare.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock. It’s a shame we must meet under these circumstances.” He tells you, taking a seat in front of you. His henchman stands behind the chair.

“It’s regretful to say the least.” You tell him, not intending to make any more of an enemy out of him than Matt already has, not right now.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding. I remember my own, it was a rather special day.”

You know that was the day Matt took him down. The night that he, Karen and Foggy took him down.

“I’ve heard stories. It seemed like a lovely day.”

“You’re a much more gracious guest than your counterpart.”

“Well, I’m sure people say similar things about you and yours.”

He seems to consider this for a moment before nodding.

“You’re probably right about that, Mrs. Murdock. I wanted to tell you I’m terribly sorry these are the circumstances in which we are finally introduced. But it seems Mr. Murdock has been interested in finding out more about my endeavors. And you see, we simply cannot have that. I made a promise not to hurt Miss Page or Mr. Nelson but it seems you were not included in that deal.” Of course not, it had been a long time before you showed up. “So, you’re how we’re going to send Mr. Murdock a message.”

Huh.

So, this is how you die.

Well, you might as well go out with a bang.

“You see, Mrs. Murdock, When I was a boy—”

“I’m going to stop you, Mr. Fisk, because your sob story is rather dull. I know who you are. You were beaten by your father, just like I was. The difference is that I don’t use that as an excuse to murder my way to the top of the food chain. And you can torture me, assault me, whatever you feel you need to do. But if you think for a second that I’ll forget who’s coming to stop you, you are sorely mistaken. And if you think he’ll ever stop trying to find me, you do not know my husband very well.”

Fisk stares at you for a while, his gaze hardening into a glare.

“You’re right. You do know who I am. Because we’re rather similar.” He stands up and nods to the man nearby. “If Murdock can hear her far from here, make sure he hears her screaming.”

Then Wilson Fisk walks away, and you are left with the sickening gaze of a man who has no good intentions.

 The man goes to the record player and starts to play a song you recognize quickly as “Fly Me To The Moon” by Frank Sinatra. As he does this, he speaks,

“Hello, Mrs. Murdock. I’m John.” You stay quiet, and he just enjoys the song.

He picks up a knife from the table and goes to you, this grin on his face that makes you sick.

But you remember a trick from not only your childhood, but also from Frank who told you the key to remaining strong under torture—Distraction.

You stare straight ahead, trying not to mind as the man runs the knife over your skin. You think about Matt. You imagine him in his wedding suit, the smile he had on as you approached him down that aisle. You think about when he asked you to marry him, and—

A sharp pain slashes down your arm, cutting open the shirt you’re wearing. You yell in pain, before moving in to try and take deep breaths.

You can do this. Matt will be here soon.

You continue to breathe through the anxiety and the pain, trying not to think too hard about when John hums along to Sinatra’s voice, guiding his knife around your skin. Another cut finds itself on your shoulder.

This goes on for a while, with the classic song looping over and over again. John never seems to tire of it, no matter how badly you will for it to end. As the song ends in one particularly good loop, John hits your face hard, and your nose starts bleeding.

You try to think of Matt’s voice. You don’t listen to John’s torments, knowing it will only egg him on further. You just want him to burn at that point.

By the end of… Countless Frank Sinatra serenades, you have cuts littered around your body, dry blood on your face from your nose and tears running down your face. When he’s eventually done, two men cut you out from the chair and drag you along to a smaller, darker room. You are left in there with a small meal, and you just huddle against a corner, nearest a barred window out of your reach.

And then, you begin to speak for the first time since you saw Fisk.

“Matt,” You whisper, “I’m by the docks.” You tell him, not sure if he can even hear you. “Please, I’m sorry for everything, please just come find me..” You mumble, too tired and aching to try and do more.

• • •

The next day, or what you presume to be the next day since you have no way to tell how much time has passed, you’re woken up by a loud banging on the door of your.. cell..?

The same two men enter and drag you back to the room, where John waits for you.

“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Murdock?” He asks.

You glare.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“What happened to the polite young woman Mr. Fisk and I met yesterday?”

You’re filled with unprecedented anger.

“I said, Fuck you!”

He wastes no time, grabbing a lighter off the table and starting the record player again. Once more, Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room, and you’re pretty sure once you’re done with John, and then Fisk, you’ll bring Sinatra back from the dead just to kill him again.

You’ve never really been a violent person, but you suspect that it lives in the worst parts of you, just as it did with your own father. You’re much better at keeping it all at bay. Besides, it does you no good to be violent while you have Matt. He’s plenty angry for the both of you.

Oh, Matt..

This is how time passes for you. While John tortures you, burning you or carving into your skin, you think about how great it will be to choke the life out of the singer… And you think about Matt. When you’re in your dark little room, you talk to him. Even if he can’t hear you, you must hope that he’s looking for you.

• • •

Days pass. How long have you been here?

One night, you have the following dream:

It starts out as a memory. A memory of you and Matt. You’re lying in bed with him, and the sunlight is hitting his face just right. You love this memory, it’s one you recall often. He just has this angelic look to him.

Yeah, most people who encounter him, especially at night, meet the devil. But occasionally, you get glimpses of the angel you know he is. He’s sleeping, and you think in this state, he is the most relaxed you’ll ever see him.

Then, before your eyes, the dream shifts and you’re in this black void, on the ground.

Foggy, Karen, Frank, and Matt stand around you. You run to Matt but hit a clear shield keeping him from you. You bang on the glass, well, maybe it’s glass, you don’t know. You try to scream, but your voice never reaches your ears. You begin to look around, looking for a way out.

An eerie version of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ plays as you glance over to Foggy and watch in horror as his body begins to turn to ash, just like Matt and Karen did when they were blipped. You scream, banging against the shield, but your screams are silent.

You glance back and see the same thing happening to Frank. No, no, no! It was never supposed to happen this way! Frank and Foggy, they lived! They got their time! They don’t die like this!

And then Karen starts too. You start sobbing, not wanting her to go. You had missed her so much, and you only just got her back. But soon enough, she’s gone too, and you’re left in front of your husband.

His hand comes up to rest on the forcefield and he frowns softly.

He says your name gently, and then adds, “You know it couldn’t last forever, right?”

And then just as quickly as before, he is gone again. You remain there in that void, sobbing and screaming though no noise reaches you. This can’t be it! You just got him back, you needed him! You couldn’t take being alone for another five years… Or more…

The dream transforms and you’re in this grand ballroom. People are dancing elegantly and you’re in this.. obnoxious ball gown. But across the room, you can see Matt. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, with a red masquerade mask covering his face. The mask has little red devil horns on it.

Now, the orchestra plays their rendition of Sinatra’s romantic classic. And you step towards Matt, attempting to make your way towards him, only to be met with a masked man, beginning to twirl you around.

You jump from man to man, until eventually, you’re dancing with a man in an all-white suit, a man you quickly recognize as Fisk. No matter how hard you try to escape his grasp, he holds on tighter. The two of you stop dancing now, amid the crowd of moving bodies.

Fisk grabs your chin and tilts it in Matt’s direction, just in time for you to see him bowing to another woman, kissing the back of her hand. Your eyes widen and you think, this can’t be real.

“When I kill you,” Fisk says, “He’ll move on. You’re easily replaceable, Mrs. Murdock.”

And then, in an instant, the woman with Matt pulls out a dagger and plunges it deeply into his abdomen. It’s then that the other dancers, besides you, Fisk, Matt, and this mystery woman, disappear. Matt turns to you and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.

He tries to crawl to you, blood seeping onto his hands and the beautiful ballroom floor. He yells your name, and the woman stabs him again from behind, and you watch as your husband dies. You hear him screaming, hear him yelling your name. But Wilson Fisk keeps you in place. You can do nothing but watch as Matt Murdock meets his end again, unable to save him. You start to scream, thrashing against Fisk, ready to claw your way to Matt.

You wake up screaming, the nightmare haunting you. A guard bangs on your door, yelling at you to keep it down.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself. Maybe Matt heard your screams.

Maybe he’s already dead.

You force yourself not to listen to the voice in your head that says that.

• • •

One day, Fisk visits again, only this time, He’s covered in blood. That damn song is still playing.

You just stare. They have long since stopped tying you up, recognizing that you no longer have the energy to try and fight back.  He has this sick grin on his face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock.” You say nothing. “Have you been enjoying your stay with us?”

You glare.

“I hope Matt kills you when he gets here, because it will be a lot less painful for you if he does it instead of me.”

Mr. Fisk just laughs at this and tosses something at your feet. You get down off the chair to see what it is.

Your face goes pale with realization. You pick it up and slip it on your thumb, with it being too big for your other fingers. Matt’s wedding ring. You know it’s his, it has your name engraved in braille on the inside. How did he get this?

As if reading your mind, Fisk speaks again. “I took it off his body after I killed him.”

Your head shoots up to him. What did he say?

“No.” You deny. “Fuck off, I don’t—I don’t believe you.”

“Your husband is dead, Mrs. Murdock. I killed him with my bare hands because he was stupid enough to come after you. Your friends will mourn you and Matt Murdock for a while, and the city will come to the realization that Daredevil did nothing but harm. I win, Mrs. Murdock.”

You feel tears start to fill your eyes, and you realize, no. He hasn’t won because you’re still alive.

Maybe not for long, but you are.

You gather the rest of your energy and leap up, lunging at the large man covered in the man you love’s blood. And there’s a part of you that gets it. Okay, universe, you win. Most people don’t get a second chance like the two of you did. And now he’s dead, and soon you will be too. You can at least try to kill Fisk.

But you barely get a scratch in, yelling and screaming obscenities at him, as John grabs your arms from behind pulling you away. Fisk laughs and shakes his head again.

“It’s been lovely knowing you, Mrs. Murdock. I’m sorry you’ll have to die, you had so much potential. John, when you’re done doing whatever you’d like to her, kill her.” You hear him say it, but you’re blinded by rage, by grief.

John laughs behind you and forces you back into the chair, tying you back up once more. He looks at you, enraged and grief stricken, and just shakes his head.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”

He leaves for a few minutes, and you realize this is the first time you’ve been left alone in this room. You tug at the knots and realize that while John is a gifted torturer, he’s not much of a knot tier.

So you manage to wiggle out of the rope, approaching the table in front of you. You don’t have much time. Okay, maybe you won’t be able to kill Fisk, but John will do. You take a golf club off the table in front of you and turn to the record player.

You begin to smash the thing in, angrily cursing at it as Frank Sinatra’s voice fades off into nothing. When the song ends, the lights turn off. And then, red flood lights turn on in their place.

A back up generator. Lovely. You think that your smashing of the record player couldn’t possibly make the whole building’s power go off, but you don’t really care at that moment.

You’re tired. You won’t make it far, but you need to try. You grasp the club and open the door, being greeted with a man you don’t recognize. You smack him in the face with the club hard enough for him to fall to the ground.

The red lighting adds an eerie tone to the hallways as you creep around, concussing various henchmen that Fisk has working for him. You don’t mean to kill these ones, only John.

But you’re running out of stamina, peeking around corners. And that’s when you see him. John is just standing there like he knows you’re there.

“Come out to play, Mrs. Murdock?” He calls, approaching the corner where you are waiting on the other side.

You focus on his footsteps, taking a swing around the corner when you know he’s close enough. You hear a sharp crack! As he falls, and you can’t see the blood in this lighting. Good. You begin to hit his head in, sobs mixing with yelling. You hate him. You want him to die before you’re killed.

But you don’t get the pleasure, because a pair of arms are pulling you off him, and you begin yelling.

“No!” You yelp. “No, Fuck you! Let go of me! Stop!” You think it’s another one of his goons, and you just want to be able to finish the job before you die. The figure forces you to drop the club. “Please, stop, don’t hurt me—”

But he’s saying your name and turning you around to see him. You know that voice.

“Sweetheart, hey, it’s just me—” He pants, his hands going to your cheeks. “It’s me, It’s just me. I’ve got you.”

And you can’t believe your eyes.

“Matt..?” You whimper, not able to believe it. “No, you’re dead, this has to be—”

And then, Matt does something he wouldn’t do for anyone who wasn’t his wife. He pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. Oh.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He says softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

That’s when you start to sob, falling against him, no energy left to carry yourself. His arms wrap around you, and you say it again.

“He told me you were dead..”

“I know.. I’m sorry, I don’t know how he got my ring but we’ve gotta get you out of here.” He tells you.

You’re so tired. You’re slumping against him as you try to walk, the warmth radiating off his body just drawing you to sleep.

The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Matt’s voice, begging you to stay awake.

• • •

You see flashes. Your parents, your dad. Nightmares of Fisk killing Karen, Foggy, Frank, and worst of all, Matt. You see John’s sickening grin on the body of spiders, and you’re chased by his cruel laughter.

But the dreams are filmier compared to what’s happening around you. You know Claire shows up at some point, and you’re thankful to her. Karen sits next to you sometimes, petting your hair, or sometimes it’s Foggy, talking your ear off.

You have fever dreams of Frank in full military gear, tormenting you.

“Not so tough now, huh, girl?” He teases. “You really thought you’d kill the big bad wolf? Solve all your boyfriend’s problems?”  

You say to him, “Husband, He’s my husband.”

• • •

Even in your dreams, where you were slashed and burned aches, and you long for the pain to end.

You wake up only once throughout these dreams, and it’s when Karen is playing music to try and calm you from your insistent nightmares.

Only one song snaps you out of it, and you hear it clear as day.

‘Fly me to the moon,” Sinatra sings, “Let me play among the stars,’

He only gets through a few more lines before you’re sitting up on the couch, screaming.

“No! Stop, please!” You cry, and in an instant, Matt’s arms are around you. “Matt, please, don’t let him hurt me, please! Please don’t die, don’t let him keep hurting me!” You beg, in a hazed, frenzied state.

“I’ve got you, No one’s going to hurt you..”

Karen turns off the music somewhere deep in the apartment.

“No..” You begin to grow tired in his arms again. “Matty, please.. You can’t die, please..” You whimper out, continuing to mumble out pleads as you fall back into your weird dream state.

• • •

You really wake up two days later. Matt’s hand is clasped over yours, and he’s just.. Sitting on the floor next to the couch, praying into your clasped hands.

Praying for what, you don’t know.

Your body aches. But something in you tells you you’re safe.

“Matt…?” You whisper gently, and his head shoots up.

“Hey..” He says softly, one hand leaving yours, coming up to brush your hair out of your face. “There she is..”

“You’re alive..”

He seems a little concerned you still had some doubts about this.

“I am. Fisk lied to you.. He never even touched me.” You nod.

“Did I kill him? The man you found me..”

“No. He’s just in a coma, I checked. He’ll be brought to justice.”

“I only wanted him dead when I thought you were too..” Because really, you would have nothing if Matt wasn’t there. Nothing to live for. When he was blipped away, you had the hardest time readjusting to life. Now you know if he died again, you’d probably go off the rails.

No love story is saved more than once. You used up all your luck. Now it will be doomed if he’s ever killed again.

“I know.” He said gently.

“How long have I been out? How long was I in there?”

“A week, and then you were out for four days here. They got you good, baby..” He says gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier.”

You frown softly.

“You did find me though. That’s all that really matters anymore.” You know you’ll be nursing scars for a long time. Physical or not.

“Still..” He said gently, and he brings your hand up to kiss it gently. “And I’m sorry I told you to leave that night. I was just upset, but this past week and half.. I feel like I’ve been going crazy without you. No matter how mad at you I am, I never want to spend another night without holding you. Knowing that you could have been…” His voice breaks, and he just sighs, taking a moment to lean his head on your hand. “I love you, so much.” He kisses your palm again.

How are you so tired again? All you’ve done is talk to him, but it feels like you just ran a marathon.

“I love you. It’s why I married you. Because you and I, we were always meant to be with each other. No matter what.”

He smiles weakly and reaches over to the coffee table to grab something. He slips it on your finger and for the first time in over a week, your wedding ring is back where it belongs. You see Matt is wearing his. Your Matt. Your husband. The only one you were ever meant to be with.

“Did Claire patch me up? I remember her being here..” He nods softly.

“Yeah, we.. we really owe her one. She was a huge help..”

“Karen and Foggy were here… And Frank?”

“No, no, Frank’s still in Illinois, I think?” You nod softly. “You were mumbling to him, though. I heard you… you were telling him you had a husband.”

You would laugh if it didn’t hurt.

“He called you my boyfriend. I had to correct him.” You grin.

“That’s my girl.” He hums. Matt gently lifts you so you can sit up and drink some water. Then, he climbs onto the couch and brings you close. His arms wrap around your freshly wounded skin and you have a rare moment of gratefulness for his blindness.

You sit in silence for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.

You think about it all. The torture, the cuts, burns, the small room. Fisk’s laughter, John’s grin. But something sticks out to you.

“Fisk said I was just like him.”

“What?”

“We.. We grew up similar, Matt, I mean.. What if he’s right? What if the only thing separating him and I is one bad move?”

Your husband frowns and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, you are the.. the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re the complete antithesis of Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you grew up like him, but you’re living proof that you don’t have to go down the path he did just because of his background. You and I both know that there will never be a world where you end up like him. Especially not with me.”

You find comfort with his words. Not only did you make every choice not to be like Fisk, but you must’ve also made all the right decisions if in the end, you ended up with Matt. Oh, it won’t be easy, you know that for sure. You’ll never be able to listen to Frank Sinatra, and your upcoming nights are filled with nightmares and hauntings.

But one day you’ll be okay. One day You’ll be able to sit in the silence without thinking about it. One day you’ll get the image of dead Matt out of your head. You’ve spent many nights wondering about who will go first, you or him.

And then you realize the best-case scenario is that the two of you die at the same time, never living another moment without each other.

How would there ever be a world where you and your husband weren’t with each other, even just for a moment?

[sokkastyles]

I think it's implied that Azula started firebending before Zuko did, and not even just that Zuko started at a later age than Azula. If Azula 5 or 6 in the flashback in Azula in the Spirit Temple when she first starts firebending, then I think Zuko hadn't started firebending yet as a 7 or 8 year old. And that probably informs the reactions we see in the comics from their parents as well.

I mean, I think Ozai would have very much held Zuko's lack of firebending over his head. My theory is that Ozai's disfavor of Zuko began to fester as soon as Zuko was born, due to Ozai protecting his own insecurities onto Zuko (and also being jealous that Zuko divided Ursa's attention). This would be easy for Ozai to do since Zuko is both his firstborn and a boy.

So by the time Azula comes along, Ozai is already convinced that Zuko is a failure (and it's possible that there were disfavorable omens when Zuko was born that fed into that perception, maybe Zuko was late learning to walk or talk, etc.) and that he will be a late bloomer, or maybe not a bender at all.

And poor Zuko, for his part, becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy, as kids often do when they live in a household where the adults in their lives don't expect them to flourish. So every time Zuko failed to hit a certain milestone, Ozai would use that to either torment him or Ursa on how her son was a failure.

So when Azula is born, Ozai is determined that she will be everything Zuko is not. And maybe Azula does things that encourage this perception. We know she's precocious, and again, it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. Ozai gets pleasure out of giving Azula every praise and advantage he denied to Zuko. How long before either of the children began to make a single spark do you think Ozai was telling his family how sure he was that Azula would firebend first, and rubbing it into their faces how that meant Zuko was a failure?

I think this fits with both the reactions we see from Zuko and Azula as young children in the comics. A lot has been made of that scene in Azula in the Spirit Temple when Ursa reacts with fear and disappointment on seeing her daughter bending, while Ozai is exuberant and demands Ursa praise their daughter. We, the audience, know who Ozai is. We know his excitement for his daughter's firebending skills is not out of caring or pride for his daughter, but all about himself and the weapon he wants to make Azula into. There is reason for Ursa to be fearful, here, but it's fear of Ozai, not fear of her daughter. And, as the comic also states, fear for Azula.

I also want to go back to that scene in the Search where we see young Zuko coming to his mother, waking from a nightmare where Azula has set his room on fire. Both Azula and Zuko are very young in this scene, and of course Zuko's fear is ridiculous. Neither of the children have started bending yet.

But if Ozai had already been telling his family how strong Azula was going to be, and how weak Zuko was in comparison, that explains very well Zuko's fear.

There's also something here of fire as an element both prized and feared by those who wish to control it, and I think both children learned very quickly the dual nature of fire and made it a core aspect of their personality.

I think about that image of baby Zuko in awe of Iroh's flames in Legacy of the Fire Nation. How long before the wonder of fire turned to fear, and anxiety because he just couldn't seem to measure up?

Can you imagine how terrifying it was for all of them living with Ozai? Not because he was physically violent, but because of the violence in his threats, the subtle reminders of how his rage could be turned on those who didn't meet his expectations at any moment. And he'd already made up his mind that Zuko would never meet his expectations and that Azula had to. No wonder Zuko learns to fear his sister at an early age. No wonder Azula learns that it's better to be feared than to be a disappointment.

[dmitriene]

cw: tooth rotting fluff, comfort no hurt, retired leon, selfdoubt, mentions of child and pregnancy, mother and fatherhood, established relationship, kisses, young parents

initially, you and leon were both not particularly confident and focused on the topic of having a child, there were many reasons to doubt — your common youth, his dangerous job, the complexity of family life and his fear that he, as a father, will not be enough, with his work, with his inexperience, with his gnawing darkness.

but everyone deserves their own attempt at a happy life, and you literally gave it to leon — with the warmth of your home, your kisses and gentle touches that drew the constellations of his scars and stroked his mop of blond hair when he was tormented by nightmares, and you also gave him a charming girl, the happiness of his whole life, a wonderful baby who was an incredible cross between your common genes and proof that leon has the right to love and happiness.

no matter how afraid he was, how he doubt his ability to raise a child and become a good father to him — he became, the little girl doted on her young daddy, and you couldn’t look without a smile at how he babysat her, changed diapers, fed, bathed her, took her to the doctor and personally rocked her in his arms before putting her in the crib to sleep, whispering quiet purrs — «shh, sleep tight, my pretty princess» oh, how he loved her.

you knew he was taking some kind of vacation when he found out about your pregnancy, oh, there was no way he would have decided to continue going on missions when he knew that you, carrying his child and being in one of the most difficult periods, would be at home alone — leon would never allow this, and so it was, he immediately announced that he would no longer be able to appear due to circumstances, to which he was released much more voluntarily.

only his absence dragged on, as soon as the baby was born, and as soon as he saw her?

he realized that he would stay here for the sake of you two forever, for the sake of his little girl, for the sake of you, his beloved, so very soon he left the ranks of being an agent, even despite all your uncertainty, you knew that work of this kind is important, you didn’t want to oblige him, knowing that it could be hard, but the firm confidence in his blue eyes and how firmly he crossed out the things that he was accustomed to reassured you, and his serious, muttered words, full of affection and those very sincere feelings, became more confident — «i won't let you and her be alone, sweetheart, i'm gonna stay, as long, as you'll accept me»

so time passed, you devoted yourself to motherhood, and leon to fatherhood, allowing your baby to grow up in complete love and care, while she became older and older, faster and more talkative, and leon was faced with completely new feelings, non acceptance of the fact that his beloved daughter getting bigger and bigger every day.

birthday after birthday, year after year, she gradually learned to walk and even babble charming words, after which she also learned to speak full words, and very soon to speak, and it is worth noting that leon was on the list of those who could not hold back their tears when she called him dad, oh, he really cried when he heard a small, childish voice babble enthusiastically — «dada!!», and this was the last straw before the salty tears fell from his blue eyes, and his hands joyfully picked up the baby, making her giggle.

today started earlier than usual, mainly due to the fact that the baby had been running around the house since the very morning and didn’t let you and leon sleep much, especially when she came to your room, immediately climbing onto the bed and starting to jump on the mattress, enthusiastically for some unknown reason, causing you and leon to growl sleepily before he opened his eyes, scooping her by her small body between your bodies and allowing her to immediately begin to speak with undisguised childish joy, looking at the two of you, while you gently ran through her brown locks with your fingers — «wanna go to playground with mama and daddy!! can we go??»

little ones request brings a bright smile to the two of you, besides, the child needs something to do with it's activity, and the weather outside is good, so you nod, while leon lifts her with his hands and sits her on his chest, causing her to giggle with joy when he carries her in the air for a while, and then she sits comfortably on him, as he gently rises to kiss her forehead, and then stroke her small cheek, purring — «course we can, princess, but first of all, what about breakfast? and then we'll go getting ready, yeah?»

she jumps joyfully, hastily getting off his chest and, in general, your bed with hasty mutterings — «okay daddy!!» before running out of the room and turning around the doorway, running into the living room, but her next noisy steps that sound like a splash on the linoleum make you look at the entrance to the room, as the top of her head peeks out from the side and she babbles, seriously, before running away again and make you and leon laugh out loud — «oh!! and i wanna eggs with bacon, please!»

soon the aroma of a freshly prepared breakfast was in the air after you all ate, leon enlisted to wash the dishes while you went to dress both yourself and your daughter, making sure that the baby was dressed comfortably and for the weather before sending her to her dad, leon, while you in the meantime, started doing your makeup, sitting down in front of the dressing table and starting to sort out the necessary cosmetic accessories, until a child’s voice and the sounds of footsteps were heard behind you again.

leon imposingly walks in with her in his arms, holding her with his hand underneath while they both focus their attention on how you put on makeup, making you arch an eyebrow and look at them in response through the mirror, to which leon just smiles widely and waves his head, and the baby looks nothing more than interested and enthusiastic, watching your every move while leon purrs — «mm, our mama all dolled up for us, eh, sweet girl?»

you giggle in response as your daughter points her hands in your direction and leon, picking up her wish, steps towards you until he stops very close, bending down to put her on the floor, seizing the moment to kiss the top of your hair, when she tugs your hand, forcing you to be distracted by her and put your blush brush aside, stroking her hair and asking gently — «what do you want, sweetheart, hmm?»

a child's curious gaze looks at a used, slightly blush stained brush before small hands take it in their own and she proudly, loudly declares — «wanna be pretty like mommy!! can i put some too?» but then she is interrupted by another voice, rougher and strangely tense, the voice belonging to leon — «uh, no, sweetpea! you're still little for these things, no?»

your eyes widen in surprise and an awkward silence hangs in the room, except for the fact that the little one immediately crossed her arms over her chest and began to build an offended expression on her face, and leon’s face filled with an awkward blush before he turned towards the exit and muttered under his breath, leaving you two alone and rubbing the bridge of his nose in shame — «i'm.. i'll wait for you in the living room, just come out when you're both ready!»

nodding, you acknowledge his words with calm — «alright, lee» before turning your full attention to your daughter and stroking her cheek, playfully pinching and taking the brush from her little fingers, leaning down to whisper in her ear, squinting your eyes playfully and making her light up with joy in response — «let's put some blush together, what do you think, baby?» and she nods, jumping up and hurrying to settle on your lap while you alternately touch both her and yourself with the brush.

when you finish applying makeup on both yourself and her, you immediately put everything back in place and leave the room, allowing leon to notice you both with a slight smile on his lips before you finish a few touches, putting on your shoes and taking things like your purse and wallet, before leaving the house and heading towards the playground, while leon carried your daughter in his arms, periodically playing with her and chatting, answering her curious questions, but you still felt that something was wrong, there was still some kind of sadness on his face?

being in thought for some time, you decide to act as soon as you reach the playground, where leon immediately puts her on her feet and allows her to happily run towards the slides, while you, meanwhile, sit down together on a bench, your soft hand carefully finds his, intertwining your fingers as he strokes your knuckles but stops, blue eyes moving to yours in surprise when you ask coyly — «what's that been, lee? with the makeup, like.. what's wrong?»

his cheeks are flushed with embarrassment and his eyes dart around as he instinctively squeezes your hand a little tighter, but gives no reaction other than to look away, nervously licking his slightly plump lips and focusing on your cute girl playing on the playground before he quietly, uncertainly mutters — «it's.. it's stupid, really.. it's nothing, sweetheart»

you frown, raising your eyebrows, what you hated most was when leon brushed off his worries and problems, no matter how many years passed, this habit was the hardest to knock out of him, so sometimes you had to be assertive, like now, scooping his face by the cheekbones as much as possible gently, making him turn to you before you say sternly, forcefully, but at the same time your tone of voice is still nothing more than gentle, inviting — «leon, love, talk to me, is something bothering you? we can talk about it and find a way to navigate, like we always do, yeah?»

he nods meekly, lowering his head slightly, causing a couple of blond strands to fall on his face, before he purses and unclenches his lips and says, placing his warm, calloused palms on top of your warm ones, saying quietly, with a mixture of shame and uncertainty, but wanting to open up to you nonethless — «she's.. she's growing so fast.. i just.. i don't know, darling, it's so hard to watch»

as soon as his words reach your ears, your gaze immediately softens and you are already openly cooing, softly kissing him on the lips and laughing softly, making him look at you more boldly, but still with the same tenderness and uncertainty, what he experiences cannot but cause a pleasant warmth in your chest, and misunderstanding in him, only because he is not at all familiar with such things as a young father, but for this he has you, so you immediately hug him gently, saying comfortingly — «oh, leon, baby.. it's alright, it's a completely normal thing, but she's growing up, and that's what life is»

he just nods, silently burying himself in the crook of your neck and sighing, hugging your waist and tightly squeezing his fingers around the curve before turning his gaze to your daughter, lifting his face and simply resting his head on your shoulder, you're right, children are growing up and quickly enough, but how he wanted her to remain so small and charming forever, and one of his sighing mumbles makes you chuckle quietly as he says — «you're right.. just.. she looks so adorable like this, my innocent little girl»

smiling, you place a gentle kiss on the top of his head before lovingly hugging him tighter to your shoulder and chest, softening your gaze even more when the little one waves to you from the landing, causing the two of you to wave back at her at the same time as you murmur — «she's still her daddy's innocent little girl, isn't she?» and leon chuckles quietly before pressing your fingers to his lips and kissing them tenderly, saying as he exhales — «yeah.. she definitely is»

[imelliesgf]

mom ellie, headcanons

pairing: wife!ellie x wife!reader

warnings: modern!au, super fluff, ellie being a crybaby.

author's note: english is not my first language, so lmk if i made any mistakes pls

not proof read

ִֶָ 𖥻 ٫ ໋ It was you who got pregnant, since Ellie's biggest dream in life was to see you pregnant. You, of course, agreed, as you were excited to experiencing pregnancy.

ִֶָ ִֶ 𖥻 ٫ ໋During your pregnancy, Ellie would talk to your daughter all. the. fucking. time. like, she gets home from work and the first thing she does is kiss you and immediately goes on her knees to talk to the baby.

"Hey little one, how was your day? Did you take care of Mommy like we agreed, uh?"

ִֶָ 𖥻 ٫ ໋ Her worst nightmare it's you making any effort, even the smallest. Sometimes she won't even let you get out of bed by yourself, saying "Honey, you can't do too much effort. It is dangerous for you and the baby" and kissing your forehead after that, while you keep cursing her under your breath.

 ִֶָ 𖥻 ٫ ໋ Admires you all the time, like, seriously, it's kinda creepy sometimes. You'll be brushing your teeth and suddenly be startled to find Ellie's reflection in the mirror, staring at you with her beautiful green eyes, muttering "You look so wonderful" even though you're disheveled and looking like you just woke up.

"Baby, you're so beautiful, and hot, and cute, and pretty, and—" "Ellie! I'm peeing!"

 ִֶָ 𖥻 ٫ ໋ When your body starts to change due to pregnancy, she uses every possible compliment to enhance your beauty.

 ִֶָ 𖥻 ٫ ໋ When your little girl was born, Ellie nearly exploded with happiness. Her eyes glowed such an intense shade of green, you have never seen them before. She looked radiant, happiness suited her.

"Hey little one, you're finally here," she said with adoration written on her face. The small baby in her lap, moved curiously at the familiar voice. "It's momma baby, do you remember my voice?" as soon as the word 'momma' left her mouth, a toothless smile formed on the baby's face. "Of course you do."

 ִֶָ 𖥻 ٫ ໋ Ellie is so SO attached to your daughter, any little noise she makes and Ellie is already running towards the baby, screaming "I'm coming little one, don't worry, momma is coming!" hearing Ellie's voice, the baby in your lap would giggle in the cutest way possible, making you giggle along with her.

 ִֶָ 𖥻 ٫ ໋ When Ellie managed to convince you to go out with Dina for a while to clear your head since you were lying awake all night while the baby was crying wanting to be fed, you felt a little bad about the situation. Like you were being a weak mother or something, even though Ellie assured you that you were the strongest woman she knew, and certainly, the best mother your daughter could have. When you got home after a fun and exciting day with Dina, you melted to find Ellie and the baby sleeping cuddled together in your bed.

 ִֶָ 𖥻 ٫ ໋ The first word the little girl said wasn't momma or mommy how you guys expected to be, but boo boo. The first time she said that you and Ellie looked at each other with interrogation points on your faces, but as time passed, you figure out that it was a name for your breasts. Every time she's hungry, she would say "boo boo" and try to reach your breasts while saying this. Ellie would find it the cutest thing in the entire world.

"Mommy, boo boo!" the little girl said with a pout on her lips, her little eyes twinkling in your direction as she tries to scoot off Ellie's lap to reach you. You took her in your arms, turning back to Ellie when you heard a growl come out of her mouth. Ellie had an even bigger pout than her daughter's on her lips, her green eyes glistening with tears. "I want boo boo too."

 ִֶָ 𖥻 ٫ ໋ Ellie turned your daughter into a child obsessed with dinosaurs and space. Buying countless dinosaur plushies and shiny sticky stars for her bedroom ceiling. And since the little one was old enough to start playing with dolls and stuff, Ellie always play with her, always making sure to include dinosaurs.

"Oh no! The bad dinosaurs are trying to catch Mr. Bunny!" your daughter said with exasperation in her tone. "That's not going to happen, 'cause the super good dinosaur is here to save Mr. Bunny!" Ellie appeared in the room with a huge plush dinosaur in hand. You smiled wildly seeing the happiness in both their faces.

 ִֶָ 𖥻 ٫ ໋ The first day at kindergarten, Ellie cried a lot. And when I say a lot, I mean, she cried like a baby, like she was never going to see her daughter again.

She had been the one to walk your daughter to class after she said goodbye to you. As you waited by the side of the car for a little too long, a kindergarten worker appeared, gently holding Ellie's shoulder as she sobbed through her tears and walked to you. "Oh my God, baby what happened?" your voice was full of concern as she got close enough for you to put your hands on the sides of her face. "I-i a-already miss h-her," she said with difficulty, hiding her face in your neck and crying desperately.

lmk if u guys liked :)

[catulhu333]

Khaine and Khorne being directly stated to be the same

While this is an often discussed theory, or that the two are at least closely connected, and many hints of it in lore/fluff, there are at least two instances in canon were this was directly stated. First one is very old, from the 1988 article "Witch Elves!" in White Dwarf #108: "The Kryrnaa are an ancient order, founded during the early dark days of the building of Naggarond. They had turned from the worship of Slaanesh soon after their exile from the Elven Kingdoms, and, still drawn by the allure of Chaos, took the murderous Khaine as their new Master. For many centuries the Krynaa were a secret order, their name heard only in the whisperings of dark passages, but their numbers slowly grew. And as the Krynaa increased in strength, there came the inevitable conflict with the Dru Perim. For Khaine is that aspect of the Blood God recognised by the Druchii, and the Blood God, known to other races as Khorne, is the sworn enemy of Slaanesh."

The second time, is much newer excerpt, from 2006's Liber Chaotica:

"Of Pleasure And Rage

Behold! For I speak to you from the Shadows - the Great Darkness, that gives meaning to all Light. At the heart of this Realm, shrouded and unclear, stands the Powers of Chaos, locked in each other's embrace, hated lovers and eternal companions.

These Four are like points upon a compass - none are close and some are opposite. War and Pleasure are two such opposites, facing each other across eternity, hating and warring, two ideals seperated by an impassable gulf of Belief and Purpose. For Khorne is discipline, hardness, suffering and rage, while Slaanesh is indulgence, beauty, ecstasy and lust. Their opposition is carved upon the knucklebones of fate and conflict can be their only recourse.

Yet how mightier is Khorne than his delight-filled sibling! Oldest of gods and greatest of warriors, Khorne's armies stretch from infinity to infinity to infinity and the Pleasure God may not rival Him. But this was not always so. For in the days when the Slaanesh, Last Born and Most Beautiful, strove for existence, His power waxed stronger than all other gods, be they seperate or together, and it seemed as though His spiteful triumph would destroy the Balance in the Warp.

But as is ever the case, Khorne was there to stem the flow of Delight. He saw the growth of His youngest sibling, and hated Him even before his birth. With His mighty arms, Khorne sought to crush the life from Slaanesh before He had even left His womb, but the war god had not counted on the passion of Slaanesh's creators, and the harder He squeezed the greater the pressure became to drive His arms apart.

The war god fought on. He sought to give all mortals time to bring an end to their corrupting decadence - the decadence that fed the nascent Power that was Slaanesh. But mortals are weak as gods are not, and though some used the time bought for them by Khorne to learn from their wicked ways, many others did not and sank ever deeper into indolence and debauchery.

Slaanesh's tempermental screams and self-tormenting nightmares echoed through the Aethyr, and insanity bloomed on every world. Terrible storms raged throughout Heaven and Hell, and rains of fire lashed across Khorne's back, but His grip ever stayed firm around His embryonic sibling. Freezing winds tore at His face and floods of poison crept up His legs, yet still the War God would not let go.

Then His brother came upon the scene. Decay stood there beside War.

"Give up," sighed Father Nurgle. "Give into what must be. It is the nature of things that morals decay and cultures must rot. Mortals cannot leave their destined path."

Khorne turned away from His brother and grasped His wrists all the tighter. Then a gust of coloured light brought there to the brothers the Changer of Ways, and Tzeentch gazed upon the War God with amusement and disdain.

"End this," he hissed. "For it must come to pass. Change is the constant that cannot be changed. We Three must be Four, so the Game has demanded. Be it now, be it later, our sibling must come."

But Khorne would have none of it. He rorared His fury until the universe shook, and the foundations of All That Is, All That Was, and All That Shall Be, threatened to crumble. His brothers left Him then, one with a sigh and one with a chuckle, for both knew that the ending was close.

Upon the Mortal Plane the wars had all ceased. All morals and laws had rotted away, and the change to conceit was almost done. The Three wavered as decadence took hold, and Slaanesh expanded beyond size and beyond measure. But Khorne, unable to see defeat, hung on to His charge though his arms were bent back and His body near-crushed. Then with a scream of release that ripped through the Warp, Slaanesh threw off His eldest brother and burst into being.

Such was the Event of Slaanesh's birth, the metal body that had contained Khorne's essence since He had slain Khaelis Ra, shattered into a thousand pieces that scattered across the dimensions. But though His soul had been freed from its silver prison, Khorne had not the strength to strike a counter blow against exultant Slaanesh, and so the Pleasure God was left to reap the souls of His mortal creators and set His Throne alongside those of His brothers. So it was that the Three became Four and the Eternal Pantheon was complete.

From whenever 'then' was, until wherever 'now' is, the gods have continued their unending dance, twirling each other through the minds and souls of mortals. First one leads and then another, each keeping step in this pavane of peril, a stately measure played out to the beating of human hearts.

None of these powers can ever truly win against its brothers, for, as the Great Conspirator did say, it is the nature of things that change is the only constant - and nowhere is this more true than within the shadow place that is Chaos.

Yet still the gods dance and their bellows of delight shake the universe.

from the 'Liber Maleficarum'. Restricted distribution 2405- I.C. by order of K. M. Eisel, Witch Hunter Captain"

(written down by Dreadnautilus on reddit, as the fragment was in handwriting in Liber Chaotica).

As seen in the fragment describes Khorne fighting and destroying K(h)aelis Ra (the Nightbringer), exactly like Khaine was described in lore from the same period (the short story, and in-universe Eldar myth "The Birth of Fear"). And being, or rather Khaine/Khorne's shell being shattered by Slaanesh.

Does it mean Khorne and Khaine are the same? Not necessarily. Even the fluff from Liber Chaotica implies they are no longer the same, being split by Slaanesh. It's also hard to tell if this fluff/lore is canon, especially seeing multiple elements from the White Dwarf #108 were directly retconned. Still, it does show there were instances were the two gods of war and blood were stated to be same.

combined artworks of Khaine by Jes Goodwin and Khorne by Ian Miller

[spacebarbarianweird]

Pleasure

Synopsis: Astarion teaches Tiriel to give a blowjob.

Thanks @themadlu for beta-reading!

Tags: smut, oral sex, trauma talk

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Headcanons

The late evening is sweet and warm, the stars shining beautifully in the dark skies.

It’s Astarion’s second spring as a free person. 

These months always bring hope, and even in his years of slavery Astarion sometimes dared to dream of freedom in those few weeks when nature was new.

Astarion looks to the right. Tiriel walks beside him in her spidersilk armor. The two-handed ax is strapped on her back. She looks ahead with almost child-like amusement. 

He can’t take his eyes off her.

Freckles, wrinkles on her forehead, those funny half-elven ears. He knows every small detail of her body – and loves her mindlessly.

Tiriel notices his look and takes his hand. Her skin is warm, and Astarion squeezes her fingers tighter.

She is much younger, only thirty-eight. The year she was born, he was forced to entertain a certain nobleman from Amn for an entire year. And by the end of it, Astarion thought that returning back to the mansion wouldn't be so bad because at least there he could pretend he was something more than a toy to play with in bed.

Tiriel was beaten by her relatives for being a half-elf. He was beaten and tortured for fun.

Tiriel was starved and humiliated by her own blood. He was fed rats and fleas by his master.

At the age of fifteen, she managed to escape, and Astarion’s undead heart aches when he thinks about young Tiriel, almost a child, wandering the wilderness on her own, without a weapon or armor.

Shedidn’t even have a name before an old adventurer, a tiefling-paladin, explained to her that “pixie” and “fairy” aren’t an appropriate way to call a young woman, no matter her race and origin.

Tiriel told Astarion all these with a bitter smile – her cheating mother, evil chieftain stepfather, cruel siblings, years of traveling on her own, the way she chose her own name at the age of fifteen. The loneliness and pain she tried to soothe with drinking. 

But Astarion knows Tiriel too well. She still suffers for what happened to her. Tears prickle her eyes when she talks about her miserable childhood.

They both have a lot of darkness in their past. She consoles him after nightmares and soothes his anxieties. He tells her how beautiful she is. 

He smiles to himself. Maybe the gods did hear him after all, making Tiriel’s father stay for the night in the village in the Sunset Mountains and sleep with the chieftain’s wife. It just took Tiriel some time to grow up and get to Baldur’s Gate.

“Well, the night is young and we have many hours of travel again. I wonder if there is any village we can get to by the morning,” Astarion says.

“I doubt it. One more day in the tent, then,” she shrugs. 

“Easy for you, Tiriel, you don’t have to stay inside! And I am trapped, protected from the murderous sunlight only by a thin layer of fabric.” 

“First of all, you keep me for yourself until I absolutely need to go out,” she laughs. “Second, it’s an enchanted fabric, and third it’s a very big tent! Don’t complain!”

“Oh, it’s not fun to be in a relationship if I cannot complain!”

Tiriel brushes her finger along his cheek. He closes his eyes, savoring the touch. If only he knew she was already alive in the last decades of his slavery. Maybe it would make things more bearable.

Then he notices Tiriel looking to her side. She opens her mouth and then immediately shuts it, as if trying to say something but not knowing how.

His wild girl doesn’t have a wide vocabulary, that’s for sure.

“What is it, my sweet?”

“Oh? Nothing!” she blushes. “Nothing-”

Astarion is sure there is something on her mind but he isn’t sure if he should push her. Tiriel doesn’t like it.

Neither does he.

They keep walking through the valley and no matter how sharpened Astarion’s senses are, he doesn’t catch any sentient creature’s scent.

There is no one for many miles.

“Astarion,” Tiriel calls him out.

“Yes? What is it?”

She takes a deep breath and stares at her feet. Astarion is sure he’s never seen her that embarrassed.

“I want to take you in my mouth.”

Astarion has to put an effort not to laugh. “And what exactly in this gods forbidden place made you want this?”

She turns her head away avoiding looking at him.

“I’ve been thinking about it for three days.”

“What self-control!”

“Don't laugh, Astarion! Besides, you've gone down on me already! Even when I was on my period!”

He chuckles remembering the taste of her moon blood. It was incomparable to anything else.

“You are a half-elf, my dear, I couldn’t miss the only time you bleed every year and a half. In your case, it’s a rare treat. Not so rare if you were a pure-blood elf of course. Then we would have to wait for a decade.”

“I want to,” she says. “I want to give you pleasure.”

“As if you don’t already give it to me,” he approaches Tiriel and puts his fingers on her neck, where a fresh bite mark is slowly healing. “But who am I to say no to such a generous offer?”

He looks around and notices a boulder that he can comfortably sit on. 

Tiriel impatiently waits till he puts his sack on the ground and sits. Now Astarion can feel her arousal and he contemplates if he should just fuck her like he usually does.

He spreads his legs a bit so she can unlace his trousers without an effort.

“Should I undress?” She asks.

“Take off your armor. The rest only if you want to.”

Tiriel quickly gets rid of the spidersilk armor and stays only in her shirt and trousers. Then, she contemplates for a bit and takes off her top as well. Her skin immediately is covered with goosebumps and her nipples harden because of the cold air.

Astarion feels the tension between his legs. Tiriel knows what she has just done to him.

“Kneel,” he asks. He tries to make it sound like a request, but it sounds like an order anyway. Tiriel bites her lower lip and slowly sits down.

Astarion admires her face for a few moments and then nods allowing her to unlace his trousers. His cock is soft and Tiriel carefully kisses the base of the shaft.

“You haven’t done this before, right?” He asks, feeling his arousal grow.

“Which part of ‘I was a virgin’ don’t you remember?” She asks, planting a kiss right below his navel.

“Yes… True… Well, I’ve probably received it a couple of times, although I don’t remember. Usually, I was giving…” He shivers when Tiriel kisses his half-naked hip. 

“Should I take it?” She mutters. 

“Wait,” Astarion brushes her hair with his fingertips. “It will be difficult to swallow it fully, it will just be unpleasant. Use your hand.”

“Like that?” Tiriel grabs his cock the same way she grabs her weapon and Astarion gasps. 

“I knew what I was getting into,” he murmurs. He feels hot down there, all his thoughts and emotions are focused on his own cock which is getting harder as Tiriel holds it.

“Yes- Yes, like that,” he grabs a fistful of her hair and makes her head lean towards his  cock. “Now relax your tongue and lick the tip. Do it, don't be afraid.”

Tiriel studies the cock for a while and then touches the sensitive head with her tongue. She licks it, forcing a string of pre-cum to flow down the shaft, and then kisses the tip.

“Does it feel good?” she asks.

“Yes-”

“Great, because I like it, too,” she finally goes down and takes the part of his cock into her mouth.

Astarion whimpers as Tiriel starts sucking him. She still hasn't fully taken him into her mouth, and he doesn’t expect she will. Tiriel looks up, maintaining eye contact and he sees tears in the corners of her eyes.

Her right hand goes up under the shirt where she squeezes his right nipple forcing Astarion to moan loudly.

Inexperienced or not, Tiriel knows his body too well, all of his sensitive parts.

Then she stops half cock still in her mouth and her eyes smirk. 

What is she up to?

She goes down fully, her lips meeting the base of the shaft. Astarion feels his legs shiver. 

He is throat-deep in her and the feeling is like nothing that he’s experienced before. Tears flow down Tiriel’s cheeks. Astarion leans back, and Tiriel uses her right hand to reach out for his balls.

“Ngh,” he whimpers, feeling his orgasm getting closer. He thinks he should pull her head away and come on her naked breasts or on her face – he’s personally always hated getting gushed down his throat – but before he manages to make any coherent movement he finishes in Tiriel’s mouth.

Tiriel lets his still-hardened cock go and Astarion expects to hear a cough or gagging sounds but instead, she stands up on her wobbling legs, smiles, and parts her lips to show the white pool of cum on her tongue.

Then she swallows it.

“You taste divine,” she murmurs, letting him taste himself on her lips. “And look very cute right now.”

Astarion slowly returns back from the high of his orgasm. 

“Did you like it?” She asks.

“It was perfect. Everything you do to me is perfect.”

She giggles and then looks at his manhood. It’s still painfully hard. 

“I can do the second round,” she says, licking her lips, but Astarion pushes her onto the grass and tugs her trousers. Her own entrance is wet and swollen.

“I want you to scream my name,” he murmurs, getting rid of the last pieces of his own clothes. “I want you to moan and whimper like the good, wild girl you are,” Astarion adjusts himself and feels her warmth around him the next moment. “And then I will come on these breasts of yours.”

Tiriel cups his face and parts her swollen lips.

“I would love nothing more.”

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @queenofthespacesquids @ednaaa-04 @dajeong @herautumnmorningelegance

[bonefall]

Tigerstar was always interesting to me, and there's something about BB!Tigerstar that makes him immediately scarier. The fact that Firestar tried to find a root to everything wrong with him and found nothing, the fact that he never takes the blame for his own mistakes, even when Swiftpaw dies from the dogs. And the last post regarding thistle law. I think it was then that it clicked. The dark forest must've allowed him to practically fester.

That's it. BB!Tigerstar doesn't even have a prophecy that he will become a tyrant, Goosefeather lied. He told Pinestar a half-truth to give him enough anxiety that he'd have nightmares.

The only thing inevitable about Tigerstar was the slowly grinding gears of ideology. If it wasn't him, it would have been another cat with a charming smile and quick words. And that's what's so unsettling about him.

He was Spottedleaf's childhood best friend. He was a sweet little boy who wanted to please his mom and his mentor. He hummed his daughter Lynxkit's favorite lullaby as she passed away in his paws. His mate loved him. He raised a fine apprentice. The whole Clan respected him.

And he filled up unmarked graves with his murder victims, controlled his outsider mate with threat of death if she tried to escape, fed a nursing queen to dogs, because he stopped seeing them as people.

The Dark Forest gave him opportunity. A second chance to acquire everything he ever wanted; Godhood, his ideas in practice, a glorious future. But in truth, there was nothing inherent about his evil. He wasn't born with darkness inside of him.

Firestar sorts through his memories to find the root of his evil, and finds nothing. Unwilling to take blame and full of anger... but not unseen in other cats. That's all there is. A miserable pile of circumstance, taped together by a hardening cycle that started long before his mentor's mentor.

That's what I'm getting at with BB. Tyrants, abusers, and ideologues are people. Evil isn't special and unique, it's ugly and common. Horrible, villainous people can be family, friends, and coworkers. No one is immune to propaganda, and there is no magic way to preemptively catch a bad person.

I find that a lot more unsettling than the idea of people "born with darkness" and having prophecies and visions foreshadow their inevitable villainly, lmao

[romantichoneypie]

Headcanons for Lilith!

Author's notes:Just making headcanons for one of my favorite girls from nightmare mode, both sfw and nsfw!

Historic moment: She was born in the Victorian era, when she hears a great growth of vampires, and in the midst of this context she was born.

Family:

Sister: She is Anazareth's half-sister, Anazareth being the eldest sister while she is slightly younger,Anazareth is close to Lilith and the two became friends quickly, in addition to always getting along.

Mother: Lilith's mother was a witch and creator of curses and potions related to a vampire In the year 1790, she was one of the few witches who survived To the Salem witch trials Because of her husband, She had had a relationship before with a normal human and had a daughter who was Anazareth, she loved her husband but he died for ensuring her and their daughter's safety, and then had Lilith from a relationship with a vampire.

Father: Lilith's father was a vampire who lived at the same time as her mother,He was a thirsty vampire who ended up dying, his attacks were famous and many people were converted to vampirism because of him, he did not kill, he fed and turned his prey into vampires,In addition, she was successful with women, there is no doubt that Lilith may have many half-siblings. (if you look closely, Lilith is similar to yog and only the two have fangs and Lilith's token doesn't say anything if she's also a vampire)

Appearance:

About 234 years.

Lilith has dark brown hair with purple tips, they are not dyed but natural the slightly purple ends of the hair.

She wears the blindfold because she has visual impairment underneath, she was not born with this disability, she ended up being attacked by hunters and well they ended up throwing a kind of poison on her while she hunted, her face had scars but they were healed over time without leaving marks, but the young vampire lost her sight.

She uses the blindfold to compensate for her lost vision, this increases her other senses and in addition makes her see both through the blindfold and through the tattoos.

Even after years she still loves Victorian fashion for her it was the best thing she had at that time,because the sanitary conditions were terrible, many people died due to the terrible living conditions, the children, many do not exceed 5 years old.

Their favorite colors are the darkest ones, such as black, dark blue, dark green, purple, burgundy and red.

She loves gothic fashion and especially black color such as flats, black boots and dresses and dark jewelry.

She loves piercings, like the ones she has in her ear and maybe she has a bat between her breasts, with open wings and a moon.

She loves her earrings but sometimes forgets why she takes them off to sleep, they are a little heavier than normal, I think maybe she has a perforation in her navel like a small crystal.

Her veins are marked on her skin, in a dark blue tone because her blood is a dark tone almost black.

Sometimes she makes light cuts on her hand because it is necessary to use in some potions but she does not usually use hers because she is a vampire.

Her body is definitely cold, and for her it doesn't make the slightest difference, she doesn't feel cold or hot.

Her fangs show up in her smile when she talks or laughs, she doesn't like it very much but it's still cute.

Relationship:

Lilith is the affectionate type but in a more reserved way, she likes soft touches and kisses on the neck

She daily enjoys drinking her partner's blood as the meal of the day, although she does not consume other people's blood

She likes to teach her things like making potions, and especially when you help her do those things.

She doesn't consume many things like food, even though flesh and blood from animals, even so she keeps sweets and other things in the fridge for when you're there with her.

She is definitely attracted even by the smell of your blood, and that's why she loves to bite your skin.

She likes to walk with you holding your hand and showing you your favorite places in the city, such as a remote park with no one to watch the stars

She's definitely kind to you, but during sex, not exactly.

While you're both having sex, she loves to really mark you as hers, filling her body with hickeys and bite marks, her body is slightly sore the next day.

She really needs to control herself when she's with you so she doesn't bite you and transform you at that moment.

I think she really couldn't live without you after years of relationship, at some point she would turn you into a vampire, either because she doesn't want you to die or because you have some disease.

She's kind to you but only to you, and when you first met you were surprised why she wasn't as rude as the others

Her favorite body part is her thighs and neck

She loves to suck you, in every way

She enjoys having sex during your period, the taste of her blood is perfect and she feels happy to satisfy you and also to relieve your pain.

She likes to wake you up in the middle of the night with kisses on the neck and massaging your breasts

She is jealous but not exactly because of you but if someone flirts with you she would get very angry with the person and ask Anazareth to put a curse on the person

She doesn't really like affection in public

She can use potions to increase your horniness level

Kink:

She loves back scratches

Bites and marks will always be on your body in the morning after you sleep together

She is slightly dominant and loves accessories such as ropes and also collars

She loves to pour scented candles down her body to give it a slight feeling of warmth

You will like to overstimulate you

She prefers to give than receive pleasure, she loves to be between your thighs and also when she is up your face and you suck her

She loves aftercare for you

What does she like?:

She definitely loves reading books about macabre tales and horror stories

She likes to do piercings because she likes the slight sensation of pain at the moment and also finds it beautiful

She loves dresses and dressing as she did in the Victorian era

She loves affection especially kisses on the forehead

She loves to eat animal flesh

She likes cats and has one that sometimes enters her apartment with anazareth but he is free to come and go and only spends the nights

I think she would also like tarot a lot,and when he was bored he would read whatever the tarot cards said

She loves to sleep with you wrapping her arms around your waist and leaning her head on your shoulder

Definitely likes it when you say you like her real eyes because it was an insecurity.

She loves what sweet you are with her and worried

She loves that you want to learn how to make magic and potions

I think she likes history in general

[jedi-enthusiast]

Similar Stories, Different Treatments: Anakin Skywalker and Abijah Fowler

Ok, so recently I've been re-watching 'Blue Eye Samauri' on Netflix and last night it dawned on me that, generally speaking, Abijah Fowler and Anakin Skywalker have very similar stories and actions...and yet their respective fandoms react to the two of them very differently.

So, here's my long ass post analyzing the two of them and why people react to them so differently.

----------

First, comparing the two characters...

So, assuming that y'all know me for my Star Wars content, you probably know Anakin's story but, for the sake of this post, I'll explain it briefly.

Anakin was born into slavery and lived as a slave for 9 years. Then one day he and his mother met two Jedi and a handmaiden, and his mother asked the Jedi to take Anakin and train him---which they agreed to do, so Anakin had to leave his mother. At 19 he had nightmares about and then witnessed his mother's death when he went back to Tatooine before being promptly drafted into war along with the rest of the Jedi by the Senate. After a harrowing 3 years of war and having his worst behaviors enabled/encouraged by the villain and his wife, Anakin begins to have nightmares about his pregnant wife dying. He then tries to prevent her dying, even though she's in perfect health.

We know a little less about Abijah Fowler's past, but we do know an integral part of it from this monologue:

"My country's history is one of manufactured suffering. I was a boy when the Tudors burned any food the rebels under O'Neill might think to eat. We starved. Everyone starved. Mouths on the dead stained green from chewing nettles---you get resourceful in a famine. My parents died early, left me and my sister catching rats. The rats ran out quick. Fed my sister on my blood, it kept her alive an extra two weeks. I didn't sleep for three days to protect her body from the starving 'til the ground thawed. I cut out her kidneys and buried her, fat cap on them like a pea. I haven't eaten a single meal since my mind didn't go to that bite. It was the last thing I ever did because I had to. I control my life now, every bite."

-----

From my point of view, Anakin and Abijah are very similar in their motivations.

Both of them started out as, assumedly, sweet and kind and caring young boys. You don't harm yourself to feed your sister and then cause more harm to yourself to protect her after she's already dead, if you're not. Similarly, you don't bring three complete strangers into your home because you're worried about them and then risk your life to help them, if you're not.

Both of them then went through great tragedies and likely felt completely powerless because of these tragedies and the circumstances they found themselves in.

For Abijah it was growing up during a famine, witnessing the horrors of famine and what people had to do during it, witnessing the deaths of his parents, being unable to stop the death of his sister, and being forced into cannibalism---of his sister and likely parents, no less---to prevent himself from starving. For Anakin it was growing up as a slave, having to leave his mother at a young age, witnessing his mother's death, and then being thrust into a war and witnessing the horrors of that.

Because of that powerlessness, both Anakin and Abijah hate the idea of them being powerless and their actions are made from a mix of anger at whoever they blame for what has happened---whether they're actually to blame, or whether they've done nothing---and refusal to ever be powerless again, or at least accept that they're powerless.

These motivations led them both to commit- (Anakin) -or attempt to commit- (Abijah) -mass murder, *genocide, **cultural genocide, and murder of their female main character counterpart.

*Abijah wasn't necessarily setting out to commit physical genocide, but he was willing to do so if the people of Japan weren't willing to go along with his plans.

**I do consider Abijah's plans as including cultural genocide, since he has a whole monologue about the people of Japan being "godless" and how he'd force them into Christianity- (Catholicism?) -if he succeeded in killing the Shogunate.

----------

Now, comparing fandom's reaction to the two...

For Anakin, he succeeds in causing Padme's death, destroying the Republic aka the only democracy in the galaxy, committing cultural and physical genocide against the Jedi, murdering an entire village of Tuskens including the children, and going on to oppress and enslave the rest of the galaxy for decades...

...in contrast, Abijah only succeeds in committing mass murder and fails in all of his other plans---and his success in committing mass murder is partially due to the Shogun's sons and wife locking people inside the burning palace.

But, despite all of this, if you look into how their respective fandoms treat them, you'd assume that it was the opposite.

Anakin is lifted up as this good person who had no agency in any of his actions or, if he did, then the people he murdered "deserved it"---he's loved by most of the fandom and everywhere you look you see think pieces about how Anakin was really a victim, how his actions were justified, how he's not to blame for anything.

Meanwhile Abijah is hated and his actions are labeled by the fandom as bad. He's a terrible person and he's seen as such. I've never seen a single post justifying his actions or trying to say he isn't to blame for his actions.

Now, this is not me saying that the Blue Eye Samauri fandom is wrong to view Abijah this way---on the contrary, I agree that his actions are heinous and he's a terrible person, there's nothing there that I don't agree with.

However, I do think it's interesting how differently both characters are treated when one of them is, unequivocally, worse than the other.

----------

Why is this?

Now, I'm going to preface this section with the disclaimer that part of it is because Anakin is the main character of his media and Abijah is not---however, I believe that this has a very small effect on how fandom treats them since, as we've seen with other characters, screentime doesn't really matter that much when it comes to whether fandom likes a character or not.

Moving on-

-----

I think a lot of it is just that Anakin is conventionally attractive and Abijah isn't.

Anakin and Abijah are both selfish, misogynistic, racist, have violent responses to most things, and have committed atrocities in the name of personal gain. The only difference between them---besides the obvious differences that come with the medias they're in---is that Anakin is pretty to look at and Abijah isn't.

It'd be even worse if Abijah was a POC or a woman, even if he was conventionally attractive---as proven by other Star Wars characters.

Mace Windu? Fandom hates him and makes him out to be a villain.

Saw Gerrera? Same thing.

Rey Skywalker? People hate her and say she's "unrealistic" or "too OP."

Reva Sevander? People fucking CRUCIFIED her!

None of these people even come near Anakin's level of "I'm a terrible person and I do heinous things because why not!" Mace and Rey never did anything wrong, and Saw and Reva did the things they did because of trauma/revenge and/or working to take down a greater evil---and even then, neither of them do anything near as bad as Anakin!

Yet they're hated and held to a higher standard and crucified in a way that Anakin isn't.

-----

Another reason is that people can project onto Anakin in a way they can't project onto Abijah.

With Anakin, they can twist the Jedi's actions to fit whatever trauma they personally relate to, they can shove characters like Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Mace, Yoda, etc. into whatever archetype they want to fit their story, they can excuse away every atrocity Anakin commits because he's doing it out of attachment and they think attachment means love, etc.

Meanwhile it's hard for people to project onto Abijah because everything and everyone around him is harder to change to fit his narrative.

There's no one really around him that you can say manipulated, abused, or otherwise forced him into doing the things he did. The other characters don't really interact with him, so people can't say the characters "deserved" what he did to them. And he openly admits that he's doing things out of greed, whereas Anakin says he's doing things out of love when he's really not.

----------

In conclusion, Abijah Fowler and Anakin Skywalker are both people that experienced tragedy and became terrible people that did heinous things because of it---but people only justify one of their actions because they think he's pretty and project onto him.

They're the same person in different medias 🤷‍♀️

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Pretty Pointy Smile Chapter 2

Summary:  Bucky was born different, and has been judged for it ever since.  His father has had enough and sells him to the circus.  The acceptance and love of his newfound family, and the beautifully fierce ringmaster, help him realize he’s not the monster everyone else made him out to be.

vampire!bucky barnes x curvy!reader This is set in more of like the 1950-60s/ish time period. Warnings: eventual smut, physical assault, a gun, a lion attack

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It had taken a little over two months to configure the vampire act and get it practiced and rehearsed down to perfection.  They had been able to create a large cage for which the “vampire” would be housed, the metal bars supposedly lined with silver to ward him off from trying to escape.  Y/N would introduce him, pull off a large curtain covering the cage, Bucky would act like a feral animal, then Y/N would sacrifice herself as the source of his bloodlust.  They came up with a story about how he could only feed from her because he was in love with her, so he wouldn’t want to hurt her.  They would have a little sausage casing baggy filled with pigs blood from the butcher shop pinned up into Y/N’s hair, so that when he “fed” from her, he would just have to pull it from her hair and burst it with his teeth, making it look like she was bleeding.  One issue they were running into was getting Bucky to come out of his shell.

“Come on, Buck, you gotta really let me hear it,” Y/N coached him as they blocked out the scene.  “You’re hungry, haven’t been fed in days, desperate, you wanna get out so bad it hurts.  I wanna hear you growling, screaming, open your mouth wide and just let it out.”

“I was told my whole life to keep my mouth shut, literally.  You’ll have to forgive me for not knowing how to do the opposite,” Bucky griped, rubbing his face with his hands.  

Y/N sighed, but nodded in understanding.  “I know Bucky, I know,” she stepped toward him.  She took his hands and held them as she looked up at him.  “How about this?  I’m your father.” Bucky blinked at her, his eyebrows furrowing at the mention of his father.  “I told you to keep your mouth shut.  I told you your teeth were disgusting.  That you are the stuff of nightmares.  I told you not to smile.  I hid you away from the world because I was ashamed of you.”  Bucky dropped her hands and started walking away from her as she spoke, not wanting to hear it.  “I said you wouldn’t amount to anything.  I said you weren’t worth the effort!  That you were a burden!”  Bucky’s face scrunched in agony.

“Y/N stop, please,” he begged, but she got in his face as he cowered before her.

“I said you had a deformity!  I sold you to the literal circus!  I couldn’t handle you, and didn’t love you enough to try.  I GAVE YOU UP!”

“ENOUGH!” 

Bucky’s voice reverberated through the tent and he shoved her away, stunning Y/N into silence.  His breathing was heavy as he realized what he’d just done.  He fell to his knees in the middle of the ring and cried, hanging his head into his hands, with heavy sobs wracking his body as he fully came to terms with what his father had done.  Y/N watched him fall into himself, shocked that the quiet man had been able to make such a loud sound.  She slowly approached him, sitting down in front of him and letting him cry it out.  She gingerly reached out a hand and touched his knee, squeezing it softly.  He peaked up at her, his eyes rimmed red and sniffling.  

“Good job, Bucky.  Just let it out.  How do you feel?” 

“Tired,” he answered quietly, wiping his tears away and sniffing harder.  “But good.”

“That’s good.  You did so good.  Did you hear yourself?  You echoed through the whole ring without a microphone.  You can do this.  You can let go of what your father said, what he wanted, and embrace this here and now.  You are wanted here.  We all want you here,” she paused, scooting closer to him.  “I want you here,” she said, searching his eyes to make sure he was listening and understood.  “We are your family now.  Use that anger, that frustration with him, with the people that have hurt you, to fuel this act.  You get to use your voice.  Just open your mouth and do it.”

Bucky nodded, placing his hand over hers that still sat on his knee.  “Thank you, Y/N.  I really appreciate it.”

Y/N smiled brightly at him.  “Now come on, give me a big toothy smile.”  Bucky huffed a laugh and tried smiling.  “Oh come on, you can do better than that.  Show me those teeth.”  Bucky widened his smile, his cheeks hurting from the effort since he hadn’t fully smiled for a long time.  “There you go, what a handsome face you’ve got hiding under all that sadness,” she complimented him.  Bucky blushed and looked away.  “Okay, now let’s hear a scream,” Y/N stood, backing away and giving him the space to feel out how he wanted to do it.

Bucky stood and planted his feet.  He looked up and let the anger bubble inside of him, the frustration and betrayal and fury rile him up.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  The sound that erupted from his mouth was unlike anything he had done before, surprising and scaring himself.

Y/N even backed up a bit at the sound, looking impressed.  “That’s it Buck!  See I knew you could do it.  Now hold on to that.  Growl at them, sneer back at them, and give them that pretty pointy smile.”

It wasn’t too difficult for Bucky to act like he was in love with Y/N, seeing as how he was quickly falling in love with her for real.  The act was a bit sensual in nature, with him holding her close and being right in the crook of her neck.  She was also just too beautiful for words.  The hair and the makeup and the ringmaster outfits, and those tattoos, it all screamed danger which she offset with a fun and fiercely protective personality.

Y/N had been nothing but kind and loving towards him from that first day.  She showed no fear or trepidation of him or his menacing looking smile.  She had welcomed him easily, introduced him to everyone, not just the acts but each crew member, knowing each of them by name and knowing about what was going on in their lives.  It really was like a big family. 

The hardest part of working in the circus, apart from the manual labor it took to set up and take down all the time, was the public.  People would come in droves to get scared watching the acts, play the games and eat the food, but many times the crowds would become very hostile to the performers of the more strange or scary acts.  With the rise of evangelism in many areas of the country that they were traveling through, they had to deal with Bible thumpers walking through and disturbing the peace, screaming during certain acts about saving the performers souls, and at times destroying property or trying to pick fights.  Y/N had worked hard to make good relationships with the police of each city they visited, making sure all permits were in place and security was stationed around the park to remove troublemakers, but it almost always ended up happening.

The first night they would be doing the vampire act finally came.  They had been marketing it along the road, putting it in the local papers and spreading the word as they traveled.  Y/N felt like it was going to be a hit, and she was usually right.  The ticket sales for the night were much higher than normal.  Bucky was nervous, but he trusted her judgment and was willing to do his best to make it successful.  As the show started and each act went on and off Bucky got dressed, putting in the red contact lenses and applying some powder to make him look paler as he listened intently, waiting for his cue to get into the covered cage.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a new act!” Y/N’s voice rang out.  Bucky quickly climbed in, crew members shutting the door behind him and making sure the big red curtain was covering everything.  “I came across him on my travels through Transylvania,” she announced, the audience ooh-ing and ah-ing.  “He almost got the best of me, but my charms were too much for him,” Y/N joked, making the audience laugh.  The large cage was on wheels, making it so the crew could get it out quickly.  They placed it in the middle of the ring.  Once it stopped moving Bucky did as they had practiced.  He let out a loud growl, then pushed against the bars on one side roughly.  The audience suddenly hushed, a tangible fear spreading.  “I present to you, for your fearful delights, the angel of death, the vampire, Azrael!”  Y/N yelled as she whipped off the curtain.  Bucky was momentarily stunned by the bright lights and played into it, as if he was afraid to be burned.  The crowd was silent, until he moved his hands away from his face, then roared with his mouth wide open, fangs bared, his red eyes staring at different people in the crowd.  Screams and gasps were heard around the ring as he twisted around like a caged beast.  He would bang on one side of the cage then quickly retreat as if the metal hurt him, then would roar again.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, do not fear!  The cage is fortified with silver laden metal bars.  You know how vampires are about their silver…” Y/N taunted Bucky through the bars.  He tried to lunge for her, but she stepped just beyond his grasp.  “And besides, he won’t hurt me.  For you see, he’s in love with me,” she gave him a lovesick look.  There were some ah-ing noises through the crowd.  Bucky put on his best tortured face, his eyebrows lifted and a frown on his lips.  “Unfortunately, that also means I am the only one that can help him…” Y/N paused for dramatic effect.  There was a rumble from the crowd.  “I am the only one that can help him feed.”  Shouts of protest were suddenly ringing through the tent.

“Fear not, my lovelies, for it is a sacrifice I am willing to make.  For the sake of all others.  Behold,” Y/N stepped in front of the door, taking out a key and unlocking it.  Bucky stood back, looking at her like she was his prey.  More shouts of protest rang out.  Y/N pulled out a rosary from her pocket and held it up in front of her as she opened the door and stepped in.  Bucky recoiled from the cross on the rosary, getting as far away from it as possible without touching the bars.  “He will not hurt me.  He will not kill me.  For even godforsaken creatures such as these, love can conquer all.”  She bunched up the rosary and threw it through the bars to a carny who caught it and held it up in warning.  Other carnies came out with their own rosaries, encircling the cage and waiting.  “Azrael,” Y/N called to Bucky, a beckoning hand drawn forward.  Bucky eyed her, like he was sizing her up, then slowly stalked towards her.  People were screaming at Y/N to get out, but she stood still.  He circled around Y/N, and after drawing out a dramatic moment of staring at her, quickly reached out and grabbed her, pinning her back to his front, causing more screams.  Bucky pulled her hair away from her neck, sneakily pulling the blood bag from her hair so no one would see while his other hand wound around her front to hold her by the neck against him.  He took one more suspicious look around at the crowd and the carnies surrounding the cage, and with a low, creepy laugh sunk his teeth into the blood bag that he placed at the last second against her skin.

Y/N let out a choked gasp, her hands flying up to his wrist at her neck dramatically as the blood poured down her neck to her chest, staining her shirt.  The audience erupted into screams.  Some people fainted.  Others were running down the risers trying to leave the tent or get to the cage to stop it from happening, other carnies having to stop them and reassure them it was going to be okay.  Bucky pretended to suck from her, his hands gripping her tightly to him.  After a few minutes the carnies started to reach their rosaries through the bars, flashing the crosses at Bucky.  He quickly dropped Y/N, who staggered forward, holding her neck as she stumbled to the cage door.  He recoiled away from the crosses but tried to reach Y/N as she shut the door behind her, locking it quickly.  For added effect Bucky reached through the bars and grabbed her by the neck again, bringing her face close to his.  “Azrael!” Y/N yelled, reaching her hands out to hold his face.  Bucky froze, eyes wide, blood dripping from his face, his grip softening on her throat.  “Until next time, my love,” Y/N said forlornly, then flashed her hidden rosary back in his face.  Bucky recoiled again, yelping then gnashing his teeth together, showing the audience his wide bloody smile and laughing maniacally as he hit against the bars again.  The carnies quickly wheeled out the cage, and as they crossed the threshold to the backstage area Bucky let out one more loud roar.

“Ladies and gentlemen!  Calm yourselves, I am unhurt,” Y/N called out.  “I will not become undead, for he did not suck me dry.  We are all safe!  At least…for now,” she warned, a mischievous smile on her face.  “Now I must change,” she glanced down at her blood-stained shirt, making some of the audience laugh.  “Do you think you can handle some more frights?” she teased.  “Send out the clowns!!”

Y/N disappeared in the sea of clowns pouring out from the different entrances.  She quickly rounded the corner to a changing area that was set up.  She walked in and found Bucky in there already getting cleaned up.

“Bucky!!  We did it!  That was amazing, you did so well!” she ran up to him, cupping his face and shaking his head lightly.  Bucky smiled back at her.  “Did you hear the screams?  It was like music to my ears.  Oh that was great.  I can’t wait to do it again.  You are such a good actor!” she rambled on as a crew member came over and started cleaning off the blood and helping her change into a different outfit.  Bucky looked away as her clothes were falling off, his smile not leaving his face.  As much as he had been hated, mocked, belittled and feared his whole life for his fangs, he now loved how it scared people.  Something about the fear was palpable and powerful, and he liked being able to have that kind of hold over people.  He’d never been able to do much more than fight his way out of those bullying situations before.  Now he could strike fear in them.

“Alright, I’m off.  Bucky,” Y/N turned back to him as she adjusted her new outfit.  He turned back to her, giving her a once over and appreciating the way it hugged her figure and showed off the tattoos.  She reached her hand around to the back of his neck, pulling him in so his nose was touching her nose.  “You were perfect.  Now keep yourself hidden back here, relax, and enjoy the rest of the show, okay?” He nodded as he gave her a warm smile.  She scrunched her nose as she nuzzled his nose, then straightened up and waltzed back towards one of the entrances.  

**pic from Pinterest, it's an AI image, unknown "creator" or "artist"**

[mollywog]

Everlark Executioner AU inspired by this post

Read on Ao3

Had the messenger arrived a day earlier, he would have been greeted by a yellow flag above our door, and had to turn back, summons undelivered.

The odds, however, are not in my favor.

My sister, having been ill the week prior, had quarantined us both at home. She hadn’t been fearfully sick, just unwilling to put her patients at risk. The flag hadn’t prohibited me from hunting alone but it had kept the townspeople and duties away for a spell.

I should have known my temporary reprieve would need repaid in spades.

So as my luck would have it, there's no obstacle to the trembling messenger boy delivering the summons. It seems my services are needed for a midnight hanging.

I am an executioner by chance, not choice. Well that’s not exactly true.

Though the Capital acts as judge and jury, the districts must supply the hangman. And because no one willingly seeks the position, about once a generation, they hold a ceremony to select a new one. They call it a reaping: someone’s idea of a joke. Haymitch Abernathy’s name had been drawn twenty odd years ago after the previous executioner had disappeared into the wild, never to be seen again. Haymitch should have been it for another decade or so, but he’d given everyone a scare two years back when he fell off his horse and into a coma for a week. He came to no worse for the wear but the district officials decided he needed an apprentice lest they discover him face down in a ditch with no one to measure their next noose. My name had not been called, but my sister’s had.

I ‘volunteered’ to take her place, but there was really never a choice in it. She never would’ve survived the social isolation let alone the job requirements.

After that my sister and I moved to the far edge of the District near the woods. It’s better not to know the condemned or subject the town to my presence. Most people know the proper direction of their anger, most don’t blame the executioner, but they still avert their gaze and hold their children tighter to their chest as I pass.

My sister, Primrose, on the other hand, is universally admired; a born healer in a place where there are few and the need is great. If I keep myself scarce, they still seek her out for treatments.

Prim is somber as she hands my satchel up to me. She’s used to hearing news from town ahead of time but with our week sequestered, we know nothing of who I may face. But Midnight hangings are reserved for the most deprived criminals,so I’ll take solace that the wearer of my necklace will be worthy of it.

The hanging tree mars the district skyline. It looms ominously over the landscape, growing as I approach the center of town.

The fog thins as I arrive at the tree, a noose is already in place as invitation to the crowd. The messenger this morning claimed the hangman was indisposed, but Haymitch has at least prepared that much before absconding into his bottle; He will have taken into account the wearer’s height and weight when selecting the rope's gauge and length: I inspect his work. Likely a man: Average height, but well fed. I release a breath: no chance it will be a child today.

In the Justice building I check in with the clerk and settle in a seat. Dropping my head back, I close my eyes, pretending to nap, lest someone try to speak to me. I hear fragments of the gossip: three murdered.. a fire… caught red-handed. At least this time my nightmares will revolve around the condemned’s actions and not my own.

Time crawls by. The growing clamor outside is my cue that the time is nearing and I shrug on the executioner's robe, rubbing my sweaty palms down the fabric at the thighs. The hood isn’t necessary, Haymitch gave it up years ago, everyone knows who we are, but I flip the material over my head anyways. If only it could shield me from my conscience.

I had always assumed Haymitch drank because he didn’t care. Now I know it’s the opposite; he drinks because he can’t help caring. I refuse to fall victim to the bottle, it doesn’t solve the guilt, I suppose nothing will, but there are other ways to live with myself.

I take the dose of elixer Prim packed with enough time for the herbs to take effect, making me feel hollow enough to perform the job, but as I exit the Justice building, I'm immediately on edge despite the tonic

Something’s not right.

Through the numbness I can feel the stilted weight of the crowd. The low simmering of discontent is unexpected. With the allegations, I’d expected eagerness if not indifference.

I take my place on the platform. The mayor nods in my direction distractedly.

Head Peacekeeper, Thread, emerges from the prison, two uniformed men in tow, dragging the limping convict. His head is bent, obstructing my view of his face, but I take in the broad shoulders and yellow hair. Another surprise. The man I am to execute is from the merchant side of town, where most have the means to survive without breaking the laws or bribe the Peacekeepers into turning a blind eye.

The man is placed beside me and I discreetly peer around my hood for a better look. The name registers right before it is spoken. My stomach drops.

Peeta Mellark

Oh, no. Not him. No, the odds are not in my favor today.

Why him? I think. Then I try to convince myself it doesn’t matter. Peeta Mellark and I are not friends. Not even neighbors. We don’t speak. Our only real interaction happened years ago. He’s probably forgotten it. But I haven’t and I know I never will.

At eleven and in my lowest moment a boy had risked a beating to give me two loaves of hardy bread. The loaves and the hope it provided saved my life. I haven’t yet found the courage to thank him, and now I never will I think as I stare at the boy with the bread’s limp form.

I’ve broken into a sweat despite the chilled breeze. The Mayor reads the charges, but I hear nothing except a buzzing in my ears.

I’m fighting through a violet haze to make sense of my dilemma. I cannot kill this man, but refusal to do so will earn me a spot swinging beside him. Damn Haymitch! This should have been his problem, and I could have wiped my hands clean if Peeta Mellark. But no, that’s not right either. My debt and his death would haunt me for the rest of my miserable life. Besides, something in my gut tells me I am meant to be here, that there’s still yet something I can do.

A single word floats to the top of my memory.

“Nightlock,” I murmur, no more than a whisper, but it’s enough for the mayor to pause his reading. In the years of my apprenticeship it was only mentioned once. Haymitch had been drunk. Much drunker than usual when he’d discussed a small list of extenuating circumstances and loopholes. When I’d pressed him for more, he’d told me to ‘forget it’ before shattering a bottle and demanding I leave. I had left, but not before hearing him break down in sobs. I’d seen him in all forms of drunk, but never so much as to weep. So, of course, the word was immediately, irrevocably branded into my brain.

“Excuse me?” The Mayor interrupts my muddled memories.

“Nightlock,” I state more firmly.

At the sound of my voice Peeta lifts his head and sways on his feet. The motion reveals what his hair has concealed; a lump, angry and purple over his eye. He’s likely concussed.

There is a mixed reaction among the crowd at my outcry: mostly confusion, but some of the older spectators understand the implications of what I have said and begin whispering among the crowd. The Mayor mops his brow, his pained expression cautiously hopeful, “Do you wish to enact the nightlock clause Ms Everdeen?”

“I do” my voice sounds foreign to me; More fierce and decisive than my foggy mind.

“And Mr Mellark do you accept?” I grasp his arm urging him to stand straighter, supporting him under my shoulders. “Trust me,” I whisper. He has no reason to believe me, but I suppose it doesn’t matter; his only other option is the dangling rope.

His mouth twitches in something of a grin. It can only be a reflex though, I’m surprised he’s lucid enough to slur out, “I do,” and when he does, I’m uncertain whether it’s in response to the mayor or in answer to my plea.

Either way he’s said the words; The ones that will save him from the gallows and bind him to a new fate

“Then I now pronounce you man and wife,” The Mayor’s voice booms over the crowd. “Congratulations Mr Mellark, you’ve been granted a pardon.”

The Hanging Tree Series

[m-jelly]

Chapter 10

Thank you @ladycheesington for the perfect banner

Vampire Levi x fem!reader

Victorian era like world, vampires, secrets, romance, falling in love, vampire lore, sexual tension, possessive Levi, mentions of pregnancy, protective Levi, emotional reader, emotional comfort, violence, blood, threats of violence, mentions of killing

In this chapter: A nightmare causes you to have a bad sleep. Levi comforts you and makes you feel better. Evan has been born and is very healthy. You are not so healthy and get a talking to about looking after yourself more. Rosaline makes her move with her guards and attacks, but with a lot of rage behind you both Levi and you manage to stop her.

Part 11

Pure fear consumed you as Rosaline clawed and scratched at your legs. It was impossible to scream like your mouth was locked up. No matter how much you fought and kicked, you couldn’t break free from her as she made her way closer to your baby bump. Tears ran down your cheeks when her fingers pushed into your belly trying to get your baby.

You sat up in bed with a cold sweat as your heart raced a few seconds later Levi woke up next to you due to the blood connection. You turned to your husband and wrapped your arms around him as you began to cry. Nothing was said between the two of you he just held you against him as you cried desperately in his arms.

He wiped your tears away and kissed you a few times. “Bad dream?”

You sniffed. “Yes.” A realisation hit you and you desperately needed to check something. You slipped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. “Please, please be okay.”

Levi hurried after you. “Darling?”

You stopped in front of the mirror and lifted your dress to check your big belly to see if everything was okay. “Thank goodness.” You lowered your dress and turned to Levi. “They’re okay.”

Levi walked up to you and placed his hands on your nine-month bump. “What happened?”

“I dreamt that Rosaline was clawing at my legs and then she pressed her fingers into my belly to get our baby.” You released a long sigh. “I just needed to be sure they were safe.”

He smiled sweetly at you. “They’re okay.” He leaned closer and kissed you. “Do you want to eat something? Go for a walk? Go to bed?”

You hummed in thought. “I would like some chocolate blood.”

He chuckled a little. “Sure, I’ll get some for you.” He held your hand and pulled you along to the dressing gowns. “Let’s make sure you are warm.” He put a warm dressing gown on you and tied the ties above your belly. “You look divine.”

You giggled. “Thank you.”

He yanked on his best dressing gown and presented you with your slippers. “Pop those on.”

You hummed as you did exactly as he asked. “Cosy.”

He held your hand again and pulled you to the kitchen to see only two staff members. “Excuse us, but my wife needs chocolate blood.” He released your hand and checked for what you wanted and found it. He pulled you close. “Want to eat in bed?”

“How about in the garden?”

“We can find a shaded spot and it is warm.” He hummed and walked out into the garden with you. “I won’t let anything happen to you or our baby. I know she hurt you before, but never again.”

You smiled at Levi. “I believe you.”

“I won’t ever leave your side.”

You hugged his side. “I believe you.”

He kissed the side of your head. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

He pulled you to the great oak tree and sat you on his lap. He opened the box and fed you the delicious chocolates. “Taste good?”

You licked his fingers once you ate the chocolate. “Mm, yes.”

He popped one into his mouth and hummed. “You’re right, it’s wonderful.” He squeezed you. “You are far more delicious though.”

You giggled. “Thank you.”

He held your chin and pulled your mouth open. He eyed your parted lips before tilting his head and kissing you. His tongue slipped into your mouth and moved passionately against yours. He slipped his hand under your dress and dressing gown and caressed your thigh.

Loving touches became a little heated. The grass was soft under your body as you were laid upon it. A soft breeze drifted through the oak tree as your body was showered with love. The sun was beginning to set causing the area to be basked in an orange and pink glow. It was hypnotic to be together and move under the perfect sky.

Chocolate broke in Levi’s mouth before your lips and tongue were joined together in a passionate kiss. Blood and chocolate mixed. Hands moved over each other as soft moans left each of you. Moving together you moved with love trying to reach a blissful end. Never before had you both done something so arousing in a public spot.

Tired bodies after gentle lovemaking lay together. As the two of you lay there panting, you were on your sides gazing at each other. Touches were gentle and loving. Fears and nightmares were long forgotten as you admired each other’s glows from euphoric orgasms. Blushes consumed your faces when you thought over what you both had just done.

You wiggled closer to Levi, his warmth drawing you in. You turned with your back against Levi and nestled yourself against him. The soft lips of your husband on your neck soothed you, along with his hand on your belly. “Levi.”

He leaned over and kissed you before softly saying your name. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

You rolled onto your back and smiled up at your husband. “No, you were perfect.”

He caressed your cheek as he gazed at you. He smiled sweetly at you before kissing you over and over. “Forgive me, but you are irresistible.”  

You giggled. “So are you, my darling, but I am near my due date and can’t make love to you as much as I used to.”

He placed his hand on your belly. “I know, my darling. You are incredible.”

You rubbed his cheek as you thought a moment. “I think we might have grass stains.”

He chuckled. “I think so too.”

You huffed a bit. “I don’t think I can get up.”

“That because of the baby or because I exhausted you?”

“Both.”

He blushed a bit. “I will carry you both to bed.”

You giggled in delight as he scooped you up into his arms. “Thank you.”

“I’m always happy to carry you like a bride.”

You blushed a little. “I meant umm…”

He looked down at you as he strolled. “You meant something else?”

“Thank you for making me feel like a bride again.”

He kissed you. “You’re welcome.”

You hummed. “Thank you also for doing all of this. My bad dream messed with me and you just soothed it all.”

He stood you before the bed and changed your clothes so they were clean and no longer stained. “Well, I’m glad I could soothe you during a rough time.”

You sat down and stared at your bump. “It’ll all be okay, right?”

Levi knelt in front of you and gazed up at you. “It will. It really will. I will make sure of it.” He kissed your belly. “I’ll protect you and our baby. Erwin and many others will help us put an end to Rosaline.”

“It’ll be okay.” You let out a long sigh. “You want to talk to our baby for a bit?”

Levi’s eyes lit up. He started kissing your belly and smiled. “Hello, my little flower. It’s daddy again. I have another story for you today!”

You giggled as Levi lovingly spoke to the baby and told them fun stories about his past. “You were a right rebel as a teen.”

“I had my moments.” He smirked at you. “I’m more of a naughty boy now.”

You blushed. “You really are.”

“You should lie back, my darling. I’ll talk to our baby. We have things to discuss.”

You wiggled on the bed and got comfortable. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disturb you both.” You hummed a laugh. “Behave.”

Levi smiled. “I will.” He leaned down and whispered. “Listen, little flower, I know you are going to love your mummy a whole bunch. She’s incredible. I will love you more than anything as well. We’ll work together to make her the happiest person in the world. We also gonna learn to share her too. I know we’ll get along perfectly. We’ll be best friends.”

You closed your eyes as you smiled. “Best friends, huh?”

He looked up at you. “Shhh. No listening.”

You ruffled Levi’s hair. “You’re cute.”

“Thank you, but you’re cuter.” He gasped. “You should be sleeping!”

You squealed with laughter as he started tickling you. “Stoooop.”

“Naughty wife.”

You giggled and gazed at him. “I am.”

He smiled at you then lay next to you and held you close. “Mine.”

“Yes, yours.”

Evan was the most beautiful baby boy you’d ever seen. Not only did you and Levi admire and fuss over him, but all the staff did, your parents and Levi’s. Evan had the biggest and brightest steel blue eyes, the same wonderful colour as Levi’s. He was always gazing so sweetly at you and Levi like he was deeply in love with you both. It warmed your hearts to know your child loved you.

There was still a deep fear in you that what happened to you had made Evan sick. So, you had Hange checked him over medically to see if he was sick. No matter how much you tried to heal yourself, the damage that had been done to you was irreversible. You could tell by the looks people gave you and their whispers that you should have been a very strong vampire, but Rosaline prevented that. You got a bit sickly sometimes because you were hurt during your development time.

Everyone made sure you felt strong and that you were supported. Giving birth to Evan was scary to many, but it went so smoothly. The pain was very minimal because your body was built for healing wounds thanks to the vampire blood. After you had Evan, you did take a turn and were weak for a few weeks. Many were worried about you but you and Levi held out hope and kept positive.

Hange blew on Evan’s belly making him wiggle in delight. “Your son is incredibly strong. I don’t see any side effects from what happened to you. It seems like momma bear took all the damage.”

You welled up at the news. “So, Evan is okay?”

She picked up your son. “He is more than okay. You have a very strong pure blood here. He will make the Ackerman family proud.”

You took Evan from Hange and hugged him as you cried. “My strong little man.”

Levi hugged you and Evan. “This is perfect news.” He gazed at Hange. “What about?”

Hange smiled. “It’s the same thing I said last time. She’ll get better in time. She needs to keep healing.”

Levi kissed your temple. “My strong wife.”

You smiled up at Levi. “I am.” You looked down at Evan as he pulled at your dress and whined. “I need to tend to Evan. I think he’s hungry.”

Levi followed you. “I’m coming with you.”

You rocked your son. “He’s so cute.”

“He is.” He looked over your shoulder. “It’s because he looks like you.”

You frowned a little before looking at your husband. “Me? He’s a splitting image of you.”

“He has your big eyes.”

You sighed. “You just want to shower in compliments, don’t you?”

He hummed a laugh. “You know me well.”

You sat down with Evan and let him feed. Baby vampires would have milk from their mother until their teeth started coming through and then they were changed to blood. It impressed you how much Evan ate, he often wanted to be fed and it was so strange not to have to change a nappy. Vampire babies were so unique and special, you couldn’t wait to see what happened when Evan grew up.

You patted Evan’s back making him burp. “When does he stop ageing?”

Levi sat behind you and hugged you. “When he reaches the human age of thirty.”

You tickled Evan’s cheek as he gazed at you. “He’ll live with us for eternity, right?”

Levi kissed your neck. “Yes.”

You played with Evan’s adorable locks. “He’s so perfect.”

“He is.” A chuckle escaped Levi. “He is locked onto you, huh? He’s always gazing at you.”

You turned and looked at your husband. “He stares at you when you’re around too.”

“He’s more transfixed by you.”

You looked down at your son. “That true?” He leaned down and kissed Evan’s cheek. “You love mummy?” You giggled as Evan touched and patted your face with a bright smile. “So adorable.” You pulled back and laughed as Evan wiggled his arms in excitement. “Someone is happy.”

Levi chuckled. “I would be if you did that to me.”

You turned your head and kissed Levi. “Like that?”

Levi whined a little. “Yes.”

“Shall we go for a walk?”

Levi hummed in thought. Now Evan was born, Rosaline would be coming for you and him. It was a scary time for you all as a family. The stress was getting to Levi and he wanted to lock you and Evan up and never let you go, but he knew very well he couldn’t do that. He was bouncing between the fear of losing you both and knowing that everything would be okay.

You tilted your head a moment. “Levi?”

He released a long sigh. “I uh…I don’t know. I need to think.”

You stood up with Evan. “It’ll be okay. Come on.”

He hurried after you. “Darling.”

You looked back at him. “It’ll be okay.” You opened the front door. “We can’t live in fear all the time.”

He rushed outside after you. “Darling, please.”

You stopped outside and gazed at him. “Yes?”

“Please, slow down. I just…I need to process things.”

You adjusted Evan so he could see Levi. “I love you.”

Levi blushed hard. “I love you too.”

“We both love you.” You walked up to Levi. “I know it’s hard. You lost me and got me back to find I was badly hurt. You had to hide me away and see me be sick after giving birth. I can’t imagine the anxiety and pain you experienced.”

“I feel selfish. You were the one who got hurt. You were the scared one. You were the one who was taken.” He lowered his head. “I shouldn’t be the one making a big deal.”

You handed Evan over to Levi. “I think you need baby therapy.”

His gaze softened as Evan stared at him. “Hello, my little flower.” He chuckled as Evan smiled and reached for Levi’s face. Levi kissed Evan’s face. “I love you more than words can describe. Both of you.” He released a long sigh. “I can’t lock you both up forever.” He looked up at you as Evan grabbed at Levi’s shirt. “But please listen to me when danger arrives. I have to keep you safe at all costs.”

“I swear.” You sighed. “And Levi? You’re not selfish at all. Losing your wife and child…I can’t imagine how terrifying that would be. If I lost you and Evan I would fall apart.” You caressed his cheek. “I have full faith in you and the others.”

He leaned into your touch. “Thank you.”

“If you think we should hide a bit longer, then we will.” You held Evan’s little hand. “I never thought I would say this before meeting you, but I hope you rip her fucking head off. Rosaline needs to die for the good of all vampires and humans.” You looked Levi in the eyes. “Are you okay with taking a life? It’ll stay with you for eternity.”

“Taking anyone else’s would be hard to do. I can take hers. I’ve dreamed of it for slow long. I have watched her slaughter friends of mine. She hurt you.” He snarled. “I want her dead.” He looked down at Evan when Evan giggled. “You like daddy’s fangs?”

“I think he does.” You hummed a laugh. “Little toothless vamp.”

Levi chuckled. “I can’t wait to see his baby teeth. They’ll be so cute.” He looked up at you. “Darling?” He reached for you. “Darling you’re bleeding.”

You reached up and touched your top lip and felt something wet. “Oh, it must be stress, or the sun or maybe not enough sleep.” You smiled at Levi. “I’ll go drink some blood and get a nap. Could you look after Evan for a while?”

He watched you hurry past. “Is there anything else I can do?”

You looked back. “Just look after our little boy.”

Levi stood in the front garden holding his son. He looked down at Evan and smiled softly to try and calm him. “It’s okay, Evan. Mummy needs some rest.”

Evan hiccupped before whining a little and welling up.

Levi wiped his son’s tears away. “I know. I know. I’m worried about her too.” He blew on his son’s cheeky making him squeal with laughter. “Come on, handsome. Let’s take a little walk. You need to see the world and your mummy needs to rest.”

Evan flapped his little arms and gripped Levi’s shirt as he babbled.

“I agree.” He reached the oak tree and sighed. “Your mummy and I love this tree.” He sat down and shifted Evan on his lap so he could see. “Isn’t it pretty?”

Evan stared out at the view as he sat on Levi’s lap. The firm hand of Levi was on his tummy holding him close. Evan’s little hand softly gripped Levi’s.

Levi kissed the top of Evan’s head. A delicate smell of flowers overwhelmed Levi making him tear up. The natural scent of his son was a mixture of the perfume you used and a sweet and soothing flower. It brought a tear to Levi’s eye at how you were always with him through Evan. No matter what, Levi was going to do everything he could for you and Evan. His determination was strong.

Evan shifted and whined a little as tiredness took over, along with missing you.

Levi kissed the top of Evan’s head. “You’re tired, huh? I guess we could do with a nap as well.” He got up and made his way back to the home. “I should talk to Hange.” He moved through the home to Hange again. “Can I have a word?”

Hange lit up when she saw Evan again. “Hi! It’s the cute little Ackerbaby!”

Levi handed Evan over to her to keep her calm. “Yes, focus on the baby so you’re calm.”

Hange giggled as Evan patted her face. “He’s so cute. How can I help?”

“My wife…her…her nose started bleeding.”

Hange looked over at her dear friend. “It did?”

Levi sat on the edge of the desk. “She said she’d have some blood and go to bed. Please…please tell me it’s just stress. Please tell me it’s nothing serious.” He gave Hange a pleading look. “Please.”

Hange crouched in front of Levi. “Listen to me, okay? That woman has been up most times you’ve been sleeping. She’s been working herself silly on her Lady duties and caring for your son. I’ve caught her and told her off. She hasn’t been eating much blood either. She’s running herself dry. This has nothing to do with the injuries she got, okay?”

Levi released a long sigh. “Thank you.”

She lifted Evan in front of her face. “That’s right Daddy! Mummy is safe! Now take me to mummy so we can all cuddle in bed.”

Levi chuckled. “Funny.” He took Evan from Hange. “I appreciate you, Erwin and Mike. You have no idea how wonderful you are to us as a family.” He stood up and smiled. “I’m glad you three are my friends for eternity.”

Hange smiled softly. “Me too. Now, go rest and have plenty of babies with your wife. I have a feeling you two are special and there will be more than Evan.”

Levi looked down at his sleepy son. “I think so too.”

“Sleep well.”

He bowed his head and made his way to the bedroom to see you were curled up in bed. He gently lay Evan in his cot and then moved the cot to his side of the bed. If Evan woke up and whined, Levi would hear it and be able to tend to him before you woke up. Levi wanted you to get plenty of rest.

Levi changed into his bed things and climbed in next to you. He instantly relaxed but you made him tense up just a little when you rolled over and snuggled up to him. “Love?”

You released a long sigh. “I was wondering when you’d join me.”

He rubbed your back. “I had a little walk with Evan.”

“Was it nice?”

“Yeah, we went to the oak tree you love.”

You leaned up and looked at Levi. “So cute.”

He caressed your cheek. “You have your colour back. Did you drink plenty of blood?”

“I did.” You sighed. “I need to admit something.”

“I’m listening.”

You lay against Levi. “I’ve not been sleeping most nights. I’ve been working on my Lady duties. I’ve been tending to Evan too. I’ve not been drinking much blood.”

He said your name with concern but a little sternly. “You can’t beat Rosaline like you want to by making yourself this sick.”

“I know.” You sat up on Levi. “I should be punished.”

Levi stared at you in your nightdress, the front was low allowing him to see the tops of your breasts. He admired your hair down and fluffy. He gulped when your thighs clenched him and the dress slipped off your shoulder. “Darling.”

You pouted. “Am I forgiven or will you punish me?”

Levi threw his arm over his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, darling you are adorable.”

You leaned on his chest. “Levi.”

He moved his arm and sighed. “You’re really beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Can I get a kiss?”

You leaned down and kissed him. “I love you.”

He wrapped his arms around you and rolled onto you. He enjoyed the giggles that came from you. “You need to behave, Mrs Ackerman.”

“I will, I promise.”

He kissed you and hummed. “Please take care of your health more.”

You nibbled your lip. “I am sorry again for doing all those things without you knowing. I’ll be a good girl.”

He massaged his fingers into your hair. “Wake me up, okay?”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.”

You followed Evan as his little hands slapped on the floor while he crawled. You hummed a laugh as he got excited and moved as fast as possible towards the door. “You are so excited.” You opened the door to reveal Levi’s study at the hideaway home. “Go get him.”

Levi finished off a paper for Erwin. “I think that should finalise everything.”

Erwin looked it over. “Yeah. That’s everything in order. We can go ahead with the plan.”

“Good.”

Erwin shifted in his seat and smiled when he saw Evan crawling over. “Looks like the boss is here.”

Levi stood up and walked around his desk to see Evan coming over. “Evan!” He grinned in delight. “Hey, little flower.” He scooped up Evan and showered his face with kisses. “I hope you’ve had a nice time with mummy.” He looked over at the door to see you in a stunning dress. “Who is that beautiful woman?”

Evan reached for you. “Ma, ma, ma!”

Levi handed Evan over to Erwin. “Could you hold him a moment? I have a beautiful woman to kiss.”

Erwin adjusted Evan. “Hello, little man. It’s time to play with your uncle for a bit.”

Levi yanked you against him and growled. “Fuck, you are stunning.”

You hummed a laugh. “Thank you. You are very handsome today.”

Erwin carried Evan with him. “All right, Mr, let’s go play somewhere.” He hummed. “How about we play with Uncle Mike?”

Evan huffed a sigh and then began pulling at Erwin’s shirt. “Mm.”

“You thinking it over?”

Evan looked up at him and began giggling.

Erwin smiled. “Well, I’ll take that as a yes.” He hurried outside where Mike was in the garden with his two dogs. “Mike!”

Mike turned and grinned. “Hello, both.” He walked over and held Evan’s little hand. “What’s the plan today?”

“Keeping him busy while mummy and daddy play.”

Mike chuckled. “Levi keeps surprising me with how hungry he is.” He hummed in thought. “I can think of a few things we can do.”

“Can you?” Rosaline walked closer with a few vampire guards. “Does it involve me?”

Erwin growled. “Damn woman.”

She gasped in delight. “My baby has been born!” She squealed in delight. “Look at him! He looks just like Levi.”

Mike snarled. “Get Levi. My dogs and I will keep her back.”

Erwin backed up. “Be careful.” He moved fast through the home and knocked on the door hard. “Levi! Whatever you are doing with your wife has to stop!”

Loud stumbles and fumbling were heard before the door was thrown open to show Levi looking a bit messy. He panted and gulped. “What’s happening?”

“Rosaline is here. Mike is out there facing her alone.”

You hurried to the door with your dress just about put together. “She’s here?”

Erwin handed over Evan. “She is.”

Levi snarled. “It’s time. What about Hange? Any word from her?”

“She’s probably on her way back with Damian and his rebel group, but no word. We have to start the fight.”

Levi turned to you. “Keep Evan safe with you. If you need to run, run. The oak tree is a safe spot.”

You held Evan close and backed up. “Please, be safe.”

“I promise.” He kissed you and sighed through his nose. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He kissed Evan’s cheek. “Be good for mummy.”

You held Evan close as you watched your husband and his friends go off to fight the biggest battle of their lives. You looked down at Evan as he clung to you and began crying. You rocked him and bounced him as best as you could to make him happy. You paced in Levi’s office and couldn’t believe what had just happened. Only moments ago, Levi had been making love to you against his desk and now your son was crying in your arms as Levi was trying to kill Rosaline and her little army.

“It’s okay. I’ll be okay. Daddy will win.” You kissed his face. “It’s okay. Focus on mummy.”

Evan whimpered a little and gazed at you. “Ma, mm.”

The room became cold when a scream echoed down the hall. A little whine came from your son as footsteps got closer to the two of you. Instinct took over, you had to protect your son. With swift movements, you hurried to the balcony doors and opened them causing the sounds of the fighting to drift into the room. Your chest heaved in your corset as a slight panic set in. A deep animal instinct took over, you and Evan were in danger.

The door to the office splintered and groaned under a force before obliterating in parts and others blowing up into the room. Silence filled the room before a starved-looking vampire stepped into the room. He sniffed the room slightly before locking his gaze on you. A wicked grin spread over his cracked dry lips making him appear grotesque.

The chuckle that escaped him made your eyes well up with fear. “Little mouse. Time to play.”

You ran out onto the balcony and jumped off as the wicked man screamed in anger. You quickly glanced over to the fighting to see Levi slamming a blade into a guard’s chest. You looked up at the man above you to see he was coming. “LEVI!”

Levi glanced over at you to see the man jump down after you. He called your name right as he was attacked. “RUN!”

Tears filled your eyes as you began to panic. Thankfully, Levi’s blood within you commanded you to move. Before you registered what was going on, you were racing towards the oak tree just like Levi had told you. The precious bundle of joy in your arms was the priority, you needed to keep him safe. You would kill anyone who got in your way and hurt your precious baby boy.

You skidded to a stop when you saw Rosaline was waiting for you. “You!”

Rosaline grinned. “Look at you. You’ve healed up and turned into a lovely little vampire.” She gasped in delight. “And you gave birth to my beautiful son!”

“He is my son.”

She tilted her head and hummed. “I don’t think so. Give him to me.”

You snarled at her. “I’ll kill you.”

“You don’t have the strength.” She clicked her fingers. “Daniel, darling, do what you were made to do.”

You twisted back from the ghastly man who’d been following you. “Touch me and I rip your heart out.”

An evil laugh left him. “You wouldn’t be able to with a baby in your arms.”

You grabbed the bottom of your dress and tore it apart allowing you to get a long piece of fabric. Your body twisted and moved as he lunged for you over and over. With a few quick movements, you managed to tie Evan to your chest. You yanked the cloth tightly as Evan giggled at being so close to you. Now you were ready to fight and you were fuelled by rage towards the things that had been done to you, the fear they’d place you in and the constant running and hiding.

Rosaline screamed in frustration. “Get my BABY!”

The grinner launched at you and you let him. You caught his wrist and slammed the side of your hand against his neck. A choked cry fell out of him. You put all your strength into twisting his arm and causing the bone in his arm to splinter and shatter to pieces. With a strong yank, you threw him to the floor. Pure animalistic rage filled you and pumped through your veins. Kill was your instinct and kill was what you were going to do.

As your heart raced your body was filled with adrenaline. Your movements were swift as you swiped with your nails at the crazed man. Most would assume that it was vampire instinct, but for you this was motherly. No one could touch or hurt your precious baby. The desire to kill was a scary thing to have, but when it came to someone you loved sometimes you were willing to do anything possible.

A beautiful location that was known for your and Levi’s love was now going to be stained with blood. It didn’t matter what was going to happen to you, all that mattered was your child and your husband. The wind rushed by you as you sprinted towards the man before you. You launched yourself at him and slammed him against the floor and let your anger and pain take over.

Your fingers plunged deep into his chest, your nails piercing his heart as you slowly killed him. “Die.”

Rosaline grabbed your hair and ripped you away from her soldier, but it was too late for him because his heart was in your hand. “You nasty bitch.” She wrapped her hand around your neck and smirked. “You are weak. I made you weak with my little light game.”

You gasped and struggled under her. “Let. Me. Go!”

She gripped your neck hard and clawed your throat. “That’ll stop you a bit.” She grabbed Evan and ripped him from you making him scream and cry. “Hush now little one, your real momma is right here.”

You rolled onto your front and crawled towards her. “Ev…an…”

She slammed her foot down on your leg causing it to break. “You’re weaker than me and due to the damage I did to you, it’ll take a lot longer for you to heal up. I’ll take my son away from you and we’ll be long gone by the time you’re better.”

You pushed yourself up with a snarl and stumbled to your feet. “Give…him…back!”

She turned and stared at you. “How are you standing? Maybe I should rip your arm off, or a leg.”

You used the last of your speed and strength to steal Evan back into your arms. You stumbled with him and fell against the oak tree. “I’ve got you.”

Rosaline stared at her empty arms and then glared at you. “My baby.” The air grew cold. “Give him back.”

You clung to Evan as he did to you. The blood that poured from your wound was warm and was working hard to heal you. It was hard to ignore the throbbing in your leg, it was going to be impossible to move with it. The fight was over for you and you hoped so desperately that you had managed to give Levi plenty of time to catch up to you.

She moved closer to you. “I know I promised you to my brother, but I think killing you might be better.”

Evan cried hard against you. “Maaaaaa.”

“I’m right here, baby.”

You turned your body away from Rosaline and shielded Evan more. “Mm, my son.”

She pulled her leg back and smirked. “Let’s kick your head in, huh?”

You winced in preparation for the impact, but nothing came. A strangled plea caused you to open your eyes. Before you was the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. Levi had Rosaline by the neck and was holding her up off the floor. Tears filled your eyes at the sight of your blood-covered husband. “Levi.”

He snarled at Rosaline. “I told you to leave us or you’ll die.”

Rosaline gasped. “Levi, my love, I did this for you.”

“I. Don’t. Want. YOU.”

Fear filled her eyes when she realised Levi was going to kill her. “W-Wait! You c-can’t kill me!” She was desperate. “I-I’m the Queen! Th-they’ll have your h-head!”

Levi snarled. “No. I’ll have yours.” He grabbed her hair with his other hand and pulled hard causing the skin on her neck to rip and tear.

Seeing the Queen having her head ripped off was not something you wanted to see or have your son see. You turned your body away and protected Evan as the screams from Rosaline turned to the sound of flesh tearing and blood gushing. You rocked Evan and showered his little head in kisses as your neck healed up, but your leg was taking a lot longer.

“Darling? Darling, it’s okay to look now.”

You opened your eyes to see Levi’s sweet smiling face in front of you. “Levi. Is she?”

“Yes.” He scooped you up into his arms. “You fought well.”

“Thank you.”

He carried you and Evan back to the home. “We can go back to our home now. No more hiding.”

You closed your eyes. “Home.”

He smiled and looked down at Evan babbling away. “Mummy did amazing in protecting you.”

You hummed a laugh. “I did, didn’t I?”

“You did. Rest, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”

[spottys-rathole]

This one's been in the "wip file" all summer long but with the current canon events I decided I might kick myself in the butt and get it done once and for all before anything lore wise happens again because I have a feeling whatever will happen to the eggs it'll make me want to scrap this and completely re-work on my designs again- And I redid Leo's three times so like hell no I'm moving on

Read below the cut to check out my train of thoughts but basically : The first drawing would be what I imagine the eggs to look like past 3-4 months while the second one would be them being 2-3 weeks, according to my own headcanons

[Closeups and headcanons under the cut - warning : it's long]

Basically I have the common headcanon that while growing, the dragons kind of morph into taking their parents' physical traits. The "eggs" all kind of look very similar as hatchlings (As in if you were to see them without their accessories on, you would need to put them next to one another to be able to tell them apart). Similarly to Betta fish, in their first few days they are born covered with smooth white scales but as they grow they shed and become gradually more colourful (fish don't shed, reptiles do ik)

My intentions were to make them look Feration-like, since everything related to them is white (Cucurucho, the quartz paved offices, Cellbit's hair turning white etc) but that the more time they spend with the islanders, the more they would stand out from one another Other individual headcanons include :

Ramón has got a "skin" condition (it's all scales no matter the egg) that makes it so parts of his body will stay baby-white forever no matter the sheds. His scales would be ocher-like with a purple gradient otherwise (similarly to Leo)

Tallulah is able to walk without the use of any accomodation, but gets tired pretty quickly. She occasionaly uses crutches whenever she feels like it

Also she's got hearring aids

Chayanne's skull mask is that of a Nightmare Stalker that he painted on to look like Missa's

Richas and Leo have grown to be better swimmers than their siblings and can hold their breath underwater longer than any other

No matter the shape of the muzzle (Chayanne having a beak, Richarlyson having a calf snout) they all have carnivorous teeth

The clothes the kids wore during the first few days were either given by the Federation (but the eggs quickly outgrew them), crafted by their parents themselves, or spare clothes the islanders yeeted on them while waiting to get something better. I haven't decided which mofo(s) (affectionate) would be the designated one in my head to spend hours neatly tailoring custom-made outfits for every eggs but I'm brainstorming hard. Like I just want to imagine a parent being tired with their kid's clothes being too used and not fitting anymore so they spend whole ass afternoons making new ones all by themselves, and when the other residents see their kid walking around in those dashing new clothes they'd go "woaah where'd [insert kid name] get those ?", "oh ? oh those, it's nothing I made them myself but I'm a bit rusty", "no shit it's so good, it looks so much better than anything the fed gave to my child. They don't have a single holeless shirt left anymore" and that's how first parent ends up pulling all nighters sewing new clothes for every other eggs

Specifically for Pomme's baby denim dress : the butterfly and apple patches were clumsily sewed on top by Antoine because I said so

On kind of the same topic : Tallulah's first wheelchair is a standard wheelchair given by the Fed' that they had laying around in their hospital quarters, it quickly deteriorated because of all the mobs and the shit the residents have to go through on a daily basis and was fixed with the means at hand. Meanwhile her second wheelchair was custom-made by the islanders once they had more ressources, and designed by herself with all terrain wheels and storing space.

Tazercraft designed multiple prototypes and prothesis for Richas before finally settling on something that would accomodate to Richas' unguligrade posture better as he was quickly growing

Richarlyson likes to beat people's shins with his crutch (it is very effective)

Pomme wears a cornflower at her scabbard bc ofc

Despite Dapper not seeing shit without their glasses, it took a while for them to get their eyesight checked and even longer for them to agree to wear them Those are only the eggs that are still currently alive (🤞) Will I do the rest one day ? - probably, maybe, idk, depends on a lot of things ngl