#captian syverson

[witchersmistress]

Home Sweet Home

this is a picture of a resturant from the French Quarter, found it on google :)

Summary: Another dual pov from both New Orleans present day and New Orleans 1865 from both Syverson and Aurora their back story

Permission is not given to copy my work in any shape, way or form. i'll haunt you for the rest of your days if you do K?

Trigger Warnings: Blood, violence, bodily harm/ injury, death. an 800 pound alligator named Old Louise, resentment towards me for what you are about to read.

Word count: 3K

 New Orleans 2023

 Aurora’s  POV   

I couldn't stop thinking about that interaction. I was sitting down at my laptop when there was a knock on my door “Come in!” I yelled. Mama J walked in “ Hi sugah, my granddaughter was telling me that you are looking for an old New Orleans home” I nodded, she leaned against the door frame. “Well sugah, my family has been here for over 150 years, my daddy used to tend garden's  for a number of homes in his younger years, tell me what you know and I'll see if I can help” I smiled excitedly. She walked over and sat on the edge of the bed as I dug out the drawings I had and began to explain my dreams to her. 

She never questioned anything, just giving me a small smile and looking at the pictures i've found on the web, that looked similar. " There was a spiral staircase that led up to a library that was filled with so many books' '' I told her as I scrolled to find the picture. She let out a light hearted laugh " Child, I know that house, c'mere" she got up and I followed out of the room and down the stairs into the sitting room.

She pulled an old photo album off the bookcase and took a seat on the couch. "Sit child, let me tell you a story" I sat next to her tucking my legs underneath Mr as she flipped through the book and stopped at this gorgeous house. Mama told me as she continued to flip through the pages. She has pictures of the ballroom, the stairs in the foyer of the house, the gorgeous gardening wing and the spiral staircase.

She let out a laugh " look at your grinning like a possum" she flipped to another page and showed the image of a man  in a military uniform, the picture had aged well even with some watermarks. She pointed at him "This fine young man was Captian James Logan Syverson, of the 1st Louisiana cavalry" she flipped to another page of him and a young woman together, she was sitting on a swing, her hair obscured her face, but the smile on his face said it all.

"She's pretty as a peach isn't she? That's the only photo they ever managed to capture of her. She shied away from the camera. She never liked to be on film." I cocked an eyebrow at her " how did you know this?" She flipped a few more pages in the book and landed on the staff of the house and she pointed to two of the ladies in the back " that there is my great great  grandmother Arlene, and her daughter Charlotte. The story of Syverson and Ms. Hathaway has been passed down in my family." She smiled a sad smile. "They first met in 1860, it was a founders day party, Captain Syverson walked in that room and was blown away by her from the moment their eyes met. He began courting her in 1862. This house was completed in 1863, he built it for her, their future home." She continued, flipping back to the picture of them. " She sadly passed away in the early months of 1865. Some say she was killed as an act of revenge against Syverson, others say she got sick and her body couldn't take it. They were to be married in that spring" 

She clicked her tongue, closing the photo album, placing a hand on top and one on her heart. "Logan was unable to set foot in that house again. The house stayed in the family. I believe it's currently owned by his grandson, that handsome man who climbed up on your balcony this morning, that cheeky boy" she placed the book in my lap as she stood.

"Where was Ms. Hathaway buried?" Fiddling with the locket around my neck. " Her family has a family plot in Lafayette Cemetery. The first one, they have a plaque with her name on it, but I doubt she is there." I turned my head with a quizzical expression, she tutted me several times " sweet child, she is buried with Syverson. No doubt in my mind, he has the money and the military on his side. Even in death he couldn't let her go" the sound of footsteps had me turning in my seat. It was her granddaughter, Emily, she was holding a house phone in her hand, " Excuse me gram but auntie is on the phone for you" extending the phone out to her. 

Looking at the photo album. I kept coming back to that picture of them. Running my fingers over the edge of the photo, suddenly I'm transported to another time. I'm the one sitting in the seat of that swing and I cannot stop laughing at Syverson. He took the two ropes and twisted me around and let them go so I would unravel with a squeal “Logan” I called out to him, he stopped the swing from spinning as he looked at me with so much love, my heart beat erratically as he leaned in closer.. “Rory child” Mama had called me, I shook my head and was brought back to her living room. “ Hmm '' I hummed at her, she was smiling like a fool, “ I just got off the phone with my sister, Freya, she said the Syverson boy just left and he'd be by to pick you up and show you his family home. He will be here in about 10 minutes” putting the photo album down on the coffee table. I bolted up the stairs to put my bag together and get my camera. 

Syverson’s POV

I didn't even get the chance  to knock on her front door before it opened “Logan what do I owe this pleasure ?” Freya said, she looked over at Gus and her eyes narrowed at him. Looking back over my way with one eyebrow cocked, holding up the strands of her hair “ I think i found her” her eyes widened “Say no more get in here” we made our way into her house, to her sun porch out back, where old Louise was out back basking in the sun, i grabbed a raw chicken leg out of his bowl and threw it out to him “ Here you go big fella” he growled as he chomped down on it, bone crunching and all. Gus shuddered at the sound and turned away.  She gestured for us to sit, she placed the strands of hair in a bowl of water and mixed them in, before she stood and went over to her bookcase and pulled out a small hope chest, and pulled out the few remaining things from Aurora, her favorite perfume, a couple of her hair pins, i could have sat for hours and wa\tched her pin her hair and lastly her silver hair brush.

She pulled a few strands from the brush  and mixed it in with the other strands, she mumbled over the water and smoke started to rise as Freya spoke in a language I did not understand. I watched the two strands of smoke curled and intertwined with one another. At the top of each smoke spiral was a visual of both Aurora’s past and present. Freya hummed as she waved her hands over the bowl and the 2 pictures became one. “Do you remember the night she died, Logan?” 

I nodded my head, it feels like it was just yesterday when she died in my arms. “I’ll remember that day for the rest of my life” she nodded and leaned back in her seat.

New Orleans 1865

It was the end of the winter season, spring was coming and soon with it my marriage to Aurora. Making my way into the sitting room, I saw her in her rocking chair, working on her needle point, her bottom lip twitching as she worked on her pattern. I placed a few more pieces of kindling into the fire, before kneeling in front of her, she gave me a small laugh and smile running one of her hands through my hair before going back to her work. I laid my head in her lap as she continued to work, humming softly. Her stomach let out a loud growl, “ I’ll get dinner started” she said as she put down her needle point. She stood up “I don't think so darlin,i can get you dinner, you just rest, you've been running non stop these last few weeks, you need to rest” she nodded up at me before she settled back down again. 

Making my way to the back of the house and into the kitchen, I found Ms. Charlotte turned to face me. “Good evening Captain, soup is almost ready."I nodded at her, “ Would mind so terribly to bring her a cup of tea, she needs to calm her nerves” she nodded and walked out the kitchen. I had finished grabbing all the silverware, when I heard a blood curdling scream come from the front of the room, dropping the ladle, I grabbed my gun and went racing towards the screaming

I skidded to a halt upon entering the sitting room, two men dressed in all black had, Charlotte and Aurora. “ Ahhh” a familiar voice sounded from my right, I turned to see who it was, it was John Davenport, Caroline’s  husband. But that was impossible, he was imprisoned to be hung for the murder of his boss

“I see the confusion written on your face, old sport” he sneered at me. “ I should be in jail but a strange man came to me with an offer, your life for mine” he strutted around the room as Aurora struggled in the man's hold, I narrowed my eyes at her begging her to relax, she looked at me and settled. “ You see Logan, you made some very powerful enemies who would do anything to see you crumble. So come to my surprise to see that you were taken here with Ms. Aurora, you made it all to easy to bring you down" he had a wicked gleam to his face as he twirled a small hunting knife in his hand " you really are a bastard John" Aurora spit at him, he walked over and squished her cheeks together " That pretty little mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days" she wrench her head from his grasp and gave him a hard stare. He turned back to face me “But I am prepared to offer you a deal, I’ll kill Aurora, which is a better fate than what he has in store for her."

 He nodded at his men who started to wrestle the girls but Charlotte broke free, the guy went to grab her and Aurora stuck her foot out tripping the bastard “Get out of here Charlotte” she yelled as she took off out the door and into the night. 

I drew my gun to fight with John but he was much quicker than I. He had an arm wrapped around my neck and he had brought me to my knees and forced my gaze on my sweet girl. She was breathing heavily, “It's ok Logan, everything is going to be ok” I fought against John’s hold but it was no use, I couldn't get free,  I struggled against his grip " you'll live to regret this John."  I seethed. He threw his head back and laughed " It's not me, you need to fear Logan, it's August.. Do you remember him?"I remembered a Union General named August. He was a ruthless and a cold blooded killer. I saw him tear a man apart on the battlefield, his reputation precedes him. Very few men who went up against him lived to tell the tale, even then none of them in the end made any lick of sense, they talked about his glowing red eyes and his fangs. He was indeed a monster. A few select men, myself included, were tasked with disposing of him. We broke into his home, others looted and damaged his home, me and 2 other people stayed focused on the mission and it was to find him. Realization and terror must have been showing on my face, because John laughed. “Good you remember him, because he  never forgot you and he has been patiently waiting for a chance to get back at you.” he snapped his fingers and his goons, shuffled about and sandwiched Aurora between them.

 “You know old sport  i hate for it to come to this but you've left me no choice”he snapped fingers and the one of the me, withdrew his knife, with a singular thrust, he shoved the blade into her stomach and up into her ribs “NOOOOOO” i roared and tried to get to her as she dropped to her knees, john released me as i raced over to her and cradled her in my arms, placing my hands on her wound “Breathe for me, i know it hurts.." her hand cupped my cheek, " it… doesn't hurt Logan" a blood started to drip out of her mouth.

John let out a sadistic chuckle as he stood up, “ this might work out even better than the boss wanted” he turned his back to me and shout as we walked out “It was good to see you old boy, but i have bigger fish to fry this evening”

It took all my strength to not get up off that floor and go racing after him. “Aurora” a feminine voice yelled, Arlene and her daughter Charlotte made their way in through   the door with a younger man behind them. Charlotte’s eyes locked on us and she let out a gasp as she sank to the floor and the gentlemen behind her caught her. Arlene stood there, eyes wide and unshed tears shining in them. A soft touch on my face drew me back to reality, i looked down at her pale face, the blood staining her lips and chin. Her vibrant green irises seem to bore into me as she spoke

" don't you dare lose yourself, Logan Syverson. Don't you give into the darkness" she cupped my cheek, I pressed my hand to her wound, but I knew it was useless. With a nod of her head, Arlene and Charlotte came in closer. I let out a low growl " Logan '' Aurora scolded " enough they are going to help you, they are friends' ' I nodded at her, tears blurring my vision, she let out a sharp breath. 

 I turned to look at Charlotte but she just shook her head, turning back to face Aurora, she grabbed my hand and squeezed " there are some many things I want to tell you Logan, but from the moment I met you, I knew you'd be my undoing, but I didn't care, what was going to happen, I just wanted to love you while I could. I love you so much Logan Syverson, don't you ever forget that. We will meet again of that I am sure" I brought her lips to mine for one last kiss, when our lips connected, something in the atmosphere shifted, I pulled away and looked into her green eyes, " I'll find you again, no matter how long it takes" i assured her,  her eyes shined with the unshed tears, as the light faded from her eyes and the closed one final time. I pulled into my chest and roared in anguish.

New Orleans 2023

Syverson pov

My eyes shot open, a fresh tear rolling down my face, that Freya promptly swiped up and dropped into the bowl. A shiver rolled through my body as I watched the smoke grow and turn into a vision of Aurora and I walking in 1864. My heart swelled at the idea. "Congratulations Logan, she came back to you" she got up and grabbed her phone. "Emily, is mama available?" she asked. My heart soared when she finally came back to me.  I’ll be damned  sure  to give  her  a  spanking for taking so long, the damn brat that she is. Freya  chatted away with  her sister, I looked over at Gus whose eyes were firmly placed on old louise. “Gus' ' i said “He isn't going to attack you, he is just a big puppy' ' his eyes bugged out of his head' ' A PUPPY?!?! SYVERSON, HE IS A 800 POUND ALLIGATOR, WITH 80 TEETH WAITING TO TEAR YOU APART!!” Old Louise moved his head in his direction and opened his jaws. Gus jumped back in his seat “ Actually Gus, darling” Freya chimed in cause the poor fucker to jump out of his skin, “He wouldnt eat you right away, he drowned you but since you are so large he would stuff you under water for a few weeks, letting your meat and bones soften before ripping you to pieces to eat” he turned a shade of grey and louise, the cheeky thing snapped his jaws closed, sending Gus over his chair and out the door like a bat out of hell. 

I dropped in my seat in a fit of laughter as Freya walked over to Louise and gave him a scratch on his chin before crawling back into the water. “How is the old man hanging in there?” I asked her as we watched him swim away, she gave a heavy sigh. “He is good, getting up there in years, but still hanging tough” she watched the space he was for a few more minutes before she spoke “ I just off the phone with my sister, Jezabel, she was telling me that Ms. Rory as she called her, she remembers the family home you built her and like to see it” i shot up from my seat “ Relax sugah, i told her that you'd be there in 10 minutes for her” i ran out of the sun room, i turned back to thank her and she shooed me away “Go on get outta her go get your girl Syverson” she said with a laugh, i was down those front steps and into my truck with spinning tires and throwing gavel as i hauled ass back to the French Quarter.

[superdcchick]

Though Sy and Marshall are ties for 1st. And Geralt is just...😌

Now imagine the 3 of them standing at the end of you bed 😏 "oh you're not choosing darlin' we are all going to have you"

[starfirewildheart]

I have no clue what I'm doing yet but I understand I have to have a 'blog' to read stuff so I can share. I used to be an avid writer but I just read a lot now. Who knows, I may eventually try to write again. I do have an a03 under the same name.

I'm not a child lol I wish I was but nah.

Favs are Henry Cavill

Captian Syverson

Mike Hellraiser

[minmiin1d]

Bring back SY! Pleasssseeee

[lovieebby]

Man down

Daddy!Syverson x little!reader

Summary: Sy unknowingly sticks your best friend in the washer with the bedsheets and when you’ve come to realize the missing person, it's too late. It's doomsday.

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: a small spank but really just cute fluff!

Note: im being a little selfish and putting my manatee in this, and tbh I’ve had this guy for ab 5 years and he still doesn’t have a name 😩😂 so we’re just putting he/him. Also gif is from Pinterest so all credit goes to the person that made it!!!

Tags: @hell1129-blog @snowbellexx @summersong69 @kaizet @omgkatinka @hinata7346 @thethirstyarchive @mary-ann84 @agniavateira @shaybabbby @oddsnendsfanfics @cavillshmavill @vivodinson @radaofrivia @iloveyouyen @jessevans @pinksdaydream @ollyoxenfrees @woofgocows @captaingothgirl1996 @honeychicana @viking-raider @seb-owns-these-tatas @laufeysodinson @msblkfire84

If you want to be added/removed lemme know! Feedback is always welcomed, love you lots and be nice to yourself my bbies ;))

You rushed up the stairs in a race to see who got into bed first. Sy seemed like a million miles away as you squealed when you face planted into the fresh bed sheets. It smelled like the clean lavender, and a mix of other florals and musks Sy used for soap, it was honestly your favorite smell besides the man himself.

“I won and you lose!” You sang out after you rolled to your back.

Sy exaggerated a panting breath as he leaned on the doorframe to your shared bedroom. He had his arm tucked around his gut making you giggle as he took a deep breath.

“You’re just too fast bug.” He exhaled, “Way too fast for this old man.”

“Why thank you! I practice very hard.” You giggled, tilting your head to the side to watch Sy rolling his eyes with a chuckle.

You snickered a small laugh and groaned while you sat up. Sy met you on the bed with his own groaning, roughly sitting on his side of the bed making you bouce at his weight.

“Now, its time for bed. Get your pj’s on and go brush your teeth.” He said, leaning to you and giving you a soft kiss on your forehead.

You nodded in agreement, standing up and doing what he politely commanded. You picked a oversized shirt from your dresser, a pair of sleep shorts and quickly changed to meet Sy in the bathroom. You both brushed your teeth in silence, softly shoving eachother teaseingly, Sy poking your sides to make you giggle and you knocking his knees to see if he’d fall or maybe do it back.

When you made it back into the bedroom Sy had you lay down and helped you put your soothing lotion on before tucking the both of you under the covers. He had turned off the lights and pulled you close to his chest and whispered his i love you’s.

Before you completely settled down, you searched around for the grey creature you snuggled with every night. He wasn’t between yours and Sy’s pillows, nor between the bed and wall. You pulled Sy’s heavy arm off of you and sat up to look at the end of the bed, soon crawling to the edge to lean down to look under the bed.

“Baby girl, what are you doin’?” Sy groveled out, his eyes still closed but listening to you roll and pat around.

“Daddy I lost him.” You mumbled out as you moved around the totes under the bed, just in case your manatee made his way down there.

“Oh.” Sy deadpanned.

You frowned your brows and slowly sat up, looking at your daddy with your eyes slanted. “Oh?”

“Yeah I think he’s in the wash.” Sy nervously chuckled, shrugging as he scratched his beard.

He braced himself on his elbow as he leaned into it to see you more clearly. Sy tried not to laugh at your try hard mean face contort into shock.

“You what?! Daddy!” You scrambled off the bed quickly then dashing out of the bedroom.

“Man down! Man down!” You screamed as you bounced down the stairs and ran into the laundry room.

Sy came into the laundry room soon after you with his heart squeezing in his chest as you sat in front of the washer, watching your poor manatee’s face popping up every now and then through the glass of the washer.

You sniffled quietly, “Manatee down Daddy.”

Sy chuckled at your joke.

“Baby it’s gonna be okay. He’s a sea cow, that means he knows how to swim! He’ll be out in the morning.” Sy tried his hardest to reassure you, but it just made you sniffle and cry louder.

“Yeah but not in soapy water! And I didn’t get to say bye!” You pouted, rubbing your cheeks and nose with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Oh baby,” Sy sighed, crouching down to you, “I promise he’ll be okay. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you he was going in the wash.” He apologized sincerely, Sy really hated seeing you so upset.

Even though he saw this as a really small ordeal, he knew that this meant more to you than him, and he also knew you were probably more upset because you’re tired. Sy was very glad you didn’t freak out too much and opened the washer door while it was still running; that would have been a handful.

“C’mon sweet angel.” He said, standing up straight with your hand in his.

You cried weakly as you hesitated standing up. The thought of your manatee being all alone made you cry harder, you fruitlessly pulled away from Sy. You refused to leave your best friends side through such a tramatic time.

Sy tried to understand your frustration, but he also had never had a bond with something so small— honestly he didn’t like the stuffed animal, the thing was old and lost its cuteness the moment it got more snuggles than him. Before he snapped at you, he sighed softly with a long exhale. You tucked your chin between your knee caps, arms wrapped around your shins and watched the lit numbers above the door handle, seeing that there was still a long way to go.

“Pooh bear, lady bug, my sweet little baby,” Sy listed off all your pet names, hoping to intice you to come with him. “Honey it’s already passed our bedtime— a nap tomorrow won’t even fix the lack of sleep.”

Your only response to him was a growl, a small chest grumbling growl. Sy shifted back, and blinked as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Now I would really hate to believe you just did that. Do my ears fail me?”

Your eyes widened in surprise of him hearing it. You dared to repeat your actions, you thought to just keep yourself quiet as you shrunk in your spot. Sy nodged his knee against your shoulder, pushing hard enough to rock you.

“I’m waiting little bear.” He spoke lowly with a small joke but the tone still left a lingering shiver of fear.

“Sorry Daddy.” You whispered softly, biting your lip as you pushed yourself up to walk to him.

You came to him and raised your arms to wrap around him for an apology hug, but he stuck out two fingers and pressed it to your chest to stop you. He shook his head with a frown as you pouted.

“You growled at me bug! I ain’t letting the dogs growl at me, what makes you think you can?”

“I said I’m sorry.” You whined, still pouting your lip out.

“I accept that, but you still need to learn little miss.” Sy said, turning his two fingers around; a silent signal.

You pressed down the urge to roll your eyes and groan in difiance. Instead, you let out a whine and listened. You turned around in the door way, facing the white painted frame and clenched your cheeks.

“You clench, it’ll hurt more.” He warned, his eyes watching the bottom of your cheeks relax.

A quick three swats left your bottom stinging. Sy’s big hands could crush anything from their sheer size, and with these spanks, you could tell he didn’t hold back. Your breath shook as you heard Sy grumble proudly, his hand softly rubbing your cheeks. You frowned upon grazing your eyes over the washer one last time before Sy nudged you to the hallway and up the stairs.

Your lip wobbled when the bedroom door closed with a soft click. And as Sy flipped the sheets over to pull himself in, he snickered at your pitiful face.

“Tuck that lil’ lip in baby. No need for that.” Sy spoke softly, watching you from his peripheral as he tucked his pillow under his neck.

You huffed once before you made your way to the bed, the soft, clean sheets inviting you into sleep. Sy’s heavy hand rubbed gentle circles as you laid flat on your tummy, a silent and bratty way to tell him you don’t want to cuddle. Though you knew Sy didn’t care for your small sour attitude; he still rubbed your back and kissed your exposed shoulder with ease and care. With your face deep into your pillow, arms shoved under and Sy’s body heat warming yours, sleep was easy to fall into.

And as Sy heard your soft breathing and felt your body relax, he stayed up until the soft ring of the washer went off and when it did, he slipped his pillow under your chest and belly and traveled down the steps carefully. Before you fully awoke, he quickly swapped loads and made his way back to you.

He would never understand the attachment between you and a replaceable thing, but he would do everything in his power to see your happy face over and over when you woke up with the small manatee under your arm, still warm and the fluff rejuvenated.

[shyinadarkplace]

Breakfast

Pairing: Logan Syverson x reader

Summary: You always wanted to be married, but so many bad relationships left you cracked, and after having a little boy there definitely wasn’t a line of good men wanting to settle down and make a life, that is until you met Sy. So there are many times you get the greatest pleasure from the simplest things.

Word count: 1300

Warnings: A little angsty but basically None this is mostly pure teeth rotting fluff.

Author’s note: This is also just basic self indulgent comfort fluff.

*I do not own Captian Syverson, Henry Cavill or any of his characters. Please do not translate, repost or otherwise use my work on this or other sites. thank you.

Quietly you slipped out of bed with a small smile playing on your lips. It was early and by early you mean that your ex military man wasn’t even nearing his 5am wake up. Basically it was about 3 am. Which gave you plenty of time to do one of your favorite things. Make Sy breakfast.

You turn on some music to play softly in the background and get to work.

As you mixed filling for cinnamon rolls you thought about all the times when the life you have now was only something you read in books or saw in a hallmark movie. All the times where you had to cry just to re-center and come to terms again with being alone, maybe even forever. While spreading the filling on the ready dough, your eyes tear up. Wishing for a moment that you could go back to that broken hearted and lonely woman and tell her. Tell her that your life gets so much better.

Thinking about the past

Life hasn't always been the kindest to you when it comes to relationships. After having your little boy dating and what not got put on the back burner. Like far back. For four years it was just you and little man (with the support of your mom who watched him while you worked). For a long time that was okay, until the lonely really started hitting hard. Until it wasn’t sex that you missed, but the feeling of being held, of having someone to rely on who loved you. Someone who was there to talk to , laugh with, drink coffee with early in the morning, someone to snuggle up with at night. It was the companionship that you missed more than anything.

All that changed when you met Sy though.

It had been a rough few weeks and once again you had had to come to terms with it is okay to be alone. That being alone didn’t mean that you couldn’t be happy. You were grocery shopping with the kiddo and unfortunately it was a rough day for him too since he didn’t take his nap. He had pulled away from the cart and you just missed grabbing his hand, and he ran smack into the back of Sy’s knees.

Picking up your son and placing him in the cart you said “ Oh my god I am so sorry. Are you okay?” Then you winced as your son practically screeched and whispered “Sorry.”

That is when Sy did something that surprised the hell out of you. He looked your kid dead in the eyes and growled. Instantly your previously screaming kid quieted. Then he looked at you and grinned. You ran your hand through your hair nervously taking that moment to actually look at the man in front of you. He was huge. Tall, thick and bearded. Suddenly you felt yourself blush from head to toe. “Hello. I’m Logan Syverson,” He stuck his hand out and you automatically took it to shake his hand as he continued “most people just call me Sy.” You kind of just stood there basically just holding hands with him. God his hands were massive compared to yours, warm and rough. His grin turned into a smirk when he asked in a voice that sent heat pooling between your legs. “So Tiny , may I ask your name?”

You snatched your hand away from his, and backed up a step clearing your throat “Ren. My name is Ren. Uh thanks for that. I- uh have to go. Thanks and sorry. “ With that you walked away as fast as you could. Internally you groaned. Such an awkward human. That was the first time you laid eyes on Sy and somehow your inability to form coherent sentences that day did not deter him. Over the next year and half you went from seeing each other around town to exchanging numbers and eventually dating. It warmed your heart how it wasn’t just dates for you and Sy. He always thought to include your son.

He never pushed you for anything. Ever. Hell a few times you two were practically fucking and he would stop to make sure its what you wanted. Each time when you hesitated he would kiss you softly and redress both of you. The first time it happened you cried, feeling terrible about the whole thing. He just caged you in his arms and said laughing kissing your chin “Tiny I was in the military, it ain't the first time I’ll finish myself.” “Shit Sy that doesn’t make me feel better. Let me just help you..” As you went to take down his sweats he grabbed your wrists. “Look at me.” a fresh wave of tears hit you and you refused to look him in the eyes. “Ren. Look. At. Me. Now.” something in his tone brooked no argument so you met his eyes. “Ren I ain’t upset. Look maybe it's too soon, but damn it woman I love you. I will never. Never. Push you for anything that you aren’t sure about. So, let's get some sleep sweet heart” Sy gave you a lopsided grin and put his t-shirt back on you, wrapped his arms around you and just held you. At some point you had whispered out a small prayer thinking that Sy was asleep. “God, he said he loves me. And I hope that he really does. Please let this work out because I don’t know what I would do if it doesn’t . I know I’m the most deserving but please I really really love him. Please let him stay.” and softly you had cried in Sy’s arms.

Hearing you Sy felt his heart break a little knowing how bad things had hurt you, but it made his choice all the more clear. He was going to marry you.

Not 6 months later he proposed.

Within a year you two were married.

Thinking back on it now you laughed a little. Pulling the cinnamon rolls from the oven to cool on the counter the smell of coffee hit your nose making you smile. Sliding a tray of bacon in the oven and making yourself a cup of coffee you sway softly to some oldies .

As you finish up scrambling eggs and getting all the food set up so it stays nice and warm a pair of strong arms wraps around you. Sy’s deep sleepy morning voice rumbles against your back “Mornin’ Tiny . What’d’ya end up making?” you smile. “ Cinnamon Rolls, bacon , eggs, sausage, biscuits and gravy. “ You felt Sy smile into the side of your neck and he turns and lifts you on to the counter in one smooth move.You wrap your arms around his neck and relax into him. “Thank You baby.” He says looking you in the eyes. You tilt your head in question. “For making every morning worth waking up to.”

A smile lights up your face. “Sy, you give me beautiful days and amazing nights all the time. Breakfast is just a small thing.” Sy hold your face and kisses you. Its one of those kisses that steals your breath, slow and passionate, full of love and unspoken promises.

“I love you Tiny.”

“I love you too Bear”

[its--fandom--darling]

under the mistletoe

Pairing: Captian Syverson x Reader

Prompt: Sy meets a city girl at a family party and they get stuck under the mistletoe together romance ensues from @gearhead66​

Rating: PG-13 (drinking)

A/n Unbeta’d, forgive the mistakes

Sy would literally be anywhere than be at this dumb party. When his buddy from high school had invited him to his Christmas party he’d forgotten to mention the dress code which meant that Sy’d shown up in cargo pants and a t-shirt, much to the dismay of his friends wife, who’d grimaced at the sight of him. So his friend and had leant him a too small polo shirt to appease his wife and sent him into the crowd without introducing him. This was truly Sy’s idea of hell on earth. His buzzcut plus the chain to his dog tags made it painfully obvious that he was military and he was getting very sick of the small talk about his deployments very quickly. After about 20 minutes of that torture, Sy was eager for something stronger than beer and went on the hunt for something that would put a little more hair on his chest.

Weaving through the crowd of well dressed business types, Sy finally spotted the drink cart. Hope rising in his chest, he makes a beeline for it, sighing in relief he grabs a glass tumbler and pour himself a generous three fingers of whiskey.

“Save some of that for me, will you?” a lilting voice from behind him teases.

              He turns to spot the prettiest damn peach he’d ever seen. Your evergreen dress hugged your body in all the right places and your eyes glinted with mischief as he struggled to find the words to speak to you. Finally, he let out a soft scoff and held out the bottle for you. “Rough night for you too?”

You smile, “You could say that. I don’t know a soul here besides my cousin and he’s disappeared and left me to be hit on my his ancient his coworkers.”

              “Does your cousin happen to be the host of this party?” Sy asks, watching you fill your glass just as full as his and take a gulp, before cringing slightly.

“How’d you know?” you ask, with a soft smile.

              “Because he invited me but forgot to tell me about the dress code, stuck me with this old thing that makes me look like a frat boy and then took off.”

You giggle as he gestures to the very snug navy polo that he’s wearing with his khaki cargo pants. “So you don’t normally make a habit of dressing in clothes that are too small?”

              He shakes his head, “No, no I don’t ma’am.”

You roll your eyes, “Please, call me (y/n).” You hold out your hand to him and he shakes it firmly.

              “Nice to meet you. Names Jude Syverson, but you can call me Sy, everybody does,” he says, with a charming smile.

You feel your stomach flutter before you take your hand back. “Do you wanna see if we can find a place away from all these dolts and finish off this?” you ask him, lifting the bottle with a little flourish.

              He smiles, “I like the way you think,” he murmurs, with a smile.

You offers the bottle to him. “Put those pockets to use, big boy.”

              He chuckles and takes the bottle, tucking it away in one of him many pockets. “Come on, I bet the back porch is clear.”

You nod and follow him as he starts to push through the crowd. The two of you almost make it out without anybody stopping you. However, your cousin pauses the two of you in the doorway to the kitchen.

              “Sy! I see you’ve met my cousin (y/n), she’s loads of fun. I’m glad you can keep each other company!” he says, smiling at the two of you drunkenly.

It’s not until his smarmy wife comes slinky out of the crowd and point above your head with a smile that you realize that you and Sy have been stopped under the mistletoe.

              “Fuck, we don’t have too,” he grumbles, looking across the room of people who now have their eyes on you.

You look at him, eyes flicking to his lips then back to his beautiful blue eyes. “It’s okay,” you whisper, placing your hand on his chest and pressing up to kiss him. He tenses for a second before placing his big, warm hands firmly on your waist, deepening the kiss briefly before you pull away and wipe your mouth gently as the crowd whistles.

              Sy flushes and rubs at the back of his neck. “Let’s get out of here,” he mutters, turning on his heel. You follow hot on his tail, fleeing the scene eagerly. When you find him out back he’s sitting in one of the lawnchairs, swigging straight from the bottle.

“Kissing me wasn’t that bad, was it?” you joke as you join him in the lawn chair opposite him.

              “Shit, it’s not that. I just hate being the center of attention like that.”

You sigh, “Me too. But you know what?”

              Sy gives you a sideways glance and offers you the bottle. You take it from him and smile at him. “what?”

“That was one hell of a kiss,” you mutter, before taking a swig too.

              He chuckles, “Thanks, I’m to hear that. Been a while.”

You look at him. “Really? For a hunk like you?”

              He flips you off, smiling at you. “I’ve been deployed regularly for the past decade. Doesn’t really leave time to find romance.”

“Well do you have any deployments in your future?” you ask, running your finger along the lip of the bottle.

              He shakes his head, “Nah, I’m getting to old for that shit. Got myself set up at the base, training greenies.”

You nod, slowly.

              “Why, do you ask?”

You shrug, “No reason, I was just hoping that we might be able to get dinner sometime.”

              Sy smiles, “You askin’ me on a date, darlin’?”

You shake your head and smile at him. “Yes, I am.”

              “I reckon that must be how they go about things in the city.”

You look at him sideways. “How did you know?”

              “The accent,” he mutters, “gives it away that you’re not from around here.”

You nod, “Well, I hope that it doesn’t get me in trouble.”

              “What do you mean?”

“I was transferred down here, starting next month. My cousin invited me tonight in hopes that I could make some connections.”

              “I’d say we made a connection,” Sy says, with a smirk.

You smile at him, “Well look at that you are right.”

              “What are you doing New Years Eve?”

You think for a moment, “I honestly don’t know.”

              “How about you come over to mine and I cook you dinner. Then we can watch shitty movies or the countdown or whatever you wanna watch really.”

You smile, “I’d like that a lot.”

              He smiles, “Perfect.”

You trade numbers, getting to know each other a little better as the whiskey bottle empties and soon you find yourself in his lap as the two of you kiss lazily, warm in each other’s arms. Once sleep teases both of your eyelids, you find yourself tucked into his side, the lawn chair reclined and the two of you gazing up at the stars. Soon enough you doze off, comforted by the steady beating of Sy’s heart. Before you know it, you’re being woke up. Sy’s rumbling voice, cutting through the sleep addled part of your brain.

              “Come on, darlin’, let’s get you cab,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t wanna go,” you murmur, burying your face into his chest once more.

              “Come on, ya need to go home. I promise I’ll call you tomorrow and bring over some hangover food.”

You hum as he lifts you up, carrying you out towards the front of the house where there are cabs waiting to take people home.

“What about you?”

              “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be just fine.”

“You’ll call tomorrow?” you confirm as he sets you on your feet next to a waiting cab.

              “Promise, darlin’, now go home and get some rest. I think you’re gonna find you’ll regret trying to keep up with me.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow,” you murmur, pressing a kiss on his cheek before he opens the car door for you and sets you inside.

              “Night, darlin’,” he murmurs, smiling down at you.

You blink up at him and smile, “Night, Sy.”

              He presses a kiss to your lips and then steps back to shut the door, smacking the top of it to signal to the driver that youre good to go and watches the taillights disappear as it drives away.

              He heads towards his truck, having sobered up and gets behind the wheel and heads home. As he pulls into the driveway, his phone buzzes. He smiles when he sees it’s a text from you and heads inside for the evening, really glad that he’d gone to the party tonight.

 Tagging: @madbaddic7ed @henrythickcavill @hoeforhenry @feralrunaway @maizyistrash @connieisland @inlovewithhisblueeyes @cavillryarchive @hell1129-blog @beck07990 @littlefreya @fuckoffbard @salimahbicharara-comun @persephone-is-here-omg​ @viking-raider​ @killjoy-assbutt-1112​ @dancingwendigo​ @raspberrydreamclouds​ @asylummara​ @foodieforthoughts​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @poledancingdinos​ @geralt-of-baevia​ @littlewrenofrivia​ @hope-to-hell​ @inthenameofcavill​ @soldatsaleannan​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @summersong69​

[ewgoals]

To all my Henry Cavill stans! I’m looking for this amazing story I was reading it was about Henry’s character in sandcastles Captian Syverson He was a firefighter and he saved a woman who was in a fire?

[princess-of-riviaa]

hi! I absolutely love the Captain Syverson ‘my captian’ series!!!🤩🥵🤌🏼 i was wondering when the fourth part would be coming! Ive re-read the that three parts 8482947 times and it just gets better! I love their chemistry!! And your writing is so amazing !!!

Thank you so much! This was such a lovely message to read first thing in the morning!

I have started drafting the fourth part of My Captain, however my inspiration keeps leaving! So it’s taking a billion years to write:( I’ll have it out ASAP... but honestly probably not until June. I’m sorry! Thank you so much for reading my work though it means the world to me!

[littlefreya]

you give me my fill of captian syverson. thank you! there's just not enough of him at ALL. your writing is so phenomenal!

Thank you so much for this, my dear. Number one reason why I enjoy writing this fic so much. 

[witchersmistress]

Master List 2.0

Because I am a chaos gremlin and I enjoy causing some chaos so shall we?

Master list 2.0 will have each of the characters I 've written about, with a sperate link to their own list. That way everyone is in the same place. Unless they are in the punishment room 🤣🤣🤣

Total works: 50

Updated: 8/2/2023

Henry Cavill :

Sherlock Holmes:

Captian Syverson:

August Walker:

Walter Marshall:

https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/724581373811228672/walter-marshall-masterlist?source=share

[henrycavillworld]

Henry Cavill as Captian Syverson  in Sand Castle 

[witchersmistress]

Tails you win

Hello my darlings!! wanted to do something or someone new for you in this case. Captian Syverson.

Warning: Blood, violence, death and gun shot wounds.

Word count: 7.5k

my usual warning, you do not have my permission to copy or use my work in anyway, if you do ill haunt you for the rest of your days!!

Propbably gramatical errors and typos but i type to fast for my own good lol

Name pronounciatuion for the FMC : her given name is Saorise, Sheer-sha, in Irish-Gaelic means freedom

Her nickname, gifted to her at a young age by Syverson: Louhi, Lo-hee, Finnish origin, she is the goddess of Death and Disease.

Saoirse's POV

I’m wearing the dress Svyerson picked out for me. It hugs my body in all the right places and makes me feel beautiful and deadly. I feel like one of those knockout nineteen fifties actresses like Ava Gardner or Grace Kelly, ready to take on the world. Who knew that an item of clothing could make you feel so powerful? I smile at the memory of Svyerson sliding up the zipper of my dress, recalling the hunger in his eyes and the way his fingers lingered on my skin as he stared at my reflection in the mirror just like I’m doing now. Thinking about him makes me wonder if it’s possible to miss someone who is still a part of your life?

Because I do. I miss the man who could relax enough to kiss me. Who could cup my cheeks in his huge palms, fuck my mouth with his tongue and make me wonder what having sex with him would be like. Since we kissed, he’s gone back to being less handsy and more gruff. Over the past couple days that we’ve been in each other’s orbit, it’s been tense, to say the least. I’m not sure if it’s all that pent-up sexual tension or the fact that Carter has asked Svyerson to fight again tonight, this time with a man called Derby, brought in by the King no less.

 I’ve never heard of him before, not on the fight scene and not as a name to be familiar with in the criminal underworld. Still, that doesn’t mean anything. Just because I’ve never heard of him doesn’t mean he isn’t a threat. It’s more likely that he is one tonight because Svyerson will be going in cold to the cage with nothing to go on. Not that I’m afraid for him. On the contrary, Svyerson is the best fighter out there. Hands down. He’ll win. He always does. He won me, didn't he? I grin at that, my bright cherry-red lips complimenting my smoky grey eyes. I’ve purposefully gone for the glam but sexy look. Instead of wearing my hair down like I usually do, with the help of Nadia, I’ve got it pinned up in a low bun that sits at the nape of my neck with tendrils of my dark hair hanging  loose at my temples,

adding a softness to my features. In all honesty, I feel like a knockout, and I’m more than ready to floor Svyerson. Satisfied with my reflection, I slid my feet into my favorite Louboutin heels, the same ones I wore that night I met the King. Who, despite my reservations, is attending tonight. Just like all of Carter’s business associates and acquaintances are. It stings a little that this night isn’t about me, or my eighteenth birthday, but about my dad and his business… Our business? I’m still not certain whether he wants me as his partner anymore. He’s barely spoken to me these past few weeks, and has certainly avoided even being in a room with me. Which is why I have to prove myself tonight. I will be the perfect Davidson. Strong, beautiful, and not to be fucked with. Whatever goes down tonight I will take it all in my stride, because like I said to Hudson, it’s not a Davidson party without a little—a lot—of bloodshed.

“Who the fuck is that?” Hudson, my best friend, asks as a man not dissimilar in size to Svyerson steps into the cage. Around us the chatter quietens as everyone focuses on the new guy who is as bulky as Svyerson but maybe a couple inches shorter. He’s so pale, he’s almost translucent, except for his face where he has a skull tattooed into his skin. If he’s going for the intimidation look, it looks good on him. Svyerson isn’t easily scared. I’ve never seen him look even remotely concerned in the cage, but there’s an edge of apprehension in the way he carries himself, and that in and of itself is cause for concern. “Is that who I think it is?” Tony, a small-time gangster who I’ve been talking to for the past ten minutes, mutters under his breath. He’s actually one of the few men I recognise here tonight. There are a lot of new faces, most of them brought in by the King according to my father, including Svyerson’s opponent. “His name’s Derby, right?” I ask, repeating the only thing I know about the new fighter and hoping Tony can fill in more details. “Yeah, it is. He’s to the King what Svyerson is to Carter,” Tony explains, the excitement in his eyes sparking concern in mine. “He’s an enforcer?” “Yeah, he worked for the King once upon a time. Rumor has it Derby banged his ex-missus and that’s why they’re getting a divorce.”

“And he’s still alive?” I ask. The King doesn’t strike me as a man who’d let anyone get away with sleeping with his wife. “Looks that way. All I know is that this fella is fucking hardcore. I heard he once ripped a man’s throat out with his bare hands.” “Fucking hell,” Hudson mutters. 

A nervous laugh bubbles out of my throat and I make a kind of choking noise trying to cover it up. “He ripped out someone’s throat, with his hands?” I repeat, hoping my voice doesn’t give away the panic expanding in my chest. “Put it this way, Svyerson might be undefeated in this cage, but Derby…” Tony smirks, “He’s the Grim fucking Reaper. Know what I’m saying?” Hudson shifts on his feet. “Fuuuuuck!” “I’m not worried. Svyerson’s got this,” I say firmly.

 “You might want to tell that to him,” Tony adds, pointing to the cage as Svyerson steps into the spotlight. “He does look worried,” Hudson comments, earning him an elbow-dig to his rib. “It’s his game face, he’s not worried,” I retorted, even though the look on his face tells me that he very much is. 

Shit.

 Circling each other, Svyerson and Derby face off. Where Svyerson is tense, Derby is relaxed in a way that doesn’t speak of arrogance, but confidence. He thinks he’s going to win. Svyerson might have the edge in height and build, but there’s no denying the fact that he doesn’t seem to intimidate this guy in the slightest. “Do they know each other?” Hudson whispers. “There’s a lot of eyeballing going on.” “Appears that way,” I reply, and when Derby drops his chin and gives Svyerson the briefest of smiles, revealing a set of gold teeth, a thread of anxiety bubbles up in my stomach. Everything feels off.

 “Ladies and gentlemen,” Carter says, interrupting my thoughts and drawing my attention to him as he steps into the cage. “Or should I say Louhi and gentleman…” He laughs at his own joke as a spotlight appears over my head, highlighting me to the room and the fact I’m the only female within it. “Oh shit, he’s not going to sing you happy birthday, is he?” Hudson mutters, raising a laugh from Tony and some of the other arseholes nearby. “Fuck,” I mutter, keeping my lips in a tight smile. “Come on up, Louhi,” Carter says, motioning me over. I want to say no, but this is Carter and no really isn’t a word he takes kindly to. Instead, with the smile plastered on my face, I head towards the cage.

 All eyes are on me, and as I stride across the room, I can see King and Rodriguez step out of Carter’s office. Rodriguez is smirking and King is watching me closely. My gut flips over. The moment I step inside the cage Carter jerks his chin, fishing in his pocket for something. A moment later he pulls out a coin and gives me a beaming smile that’s so fake, I almost wish I’d worn shades. “Carter?” I question softly, turning my gaze to Svyerson who briefly meets my eyes with an empty gaze. 

There’s not even a flicker of acknowledgement. My gut twists. I know he has to keep up pretences but fuck, that hurt. “Tonight you’re all here to help celebrate my daughter’s birthday,” Carter continues, addressing the crowd and doing nothing to temper my growing unease. “Tomorrow, Louhi will be turning eighteen, and as such I’ve arranged for Svyerson and Derby to go head-to-head, all for your viewing pleasure.” The room erupts into cheers and whistles, only quieting when Carter raises his hands. “But for tonight only we’re going to change the rules of the cage.” I glance at Svyerson with a question on my face, because we all know the only rules that apply in the cage are that there are no rules. The last man standing is the winner, that’s it.

“What?” I ask, but my question is lost amongst more cheers and whistles from the crowd. Why do I get the feeling they already know what Carter is talking about? Pinching the coin between his finger and thumb, Carter says. “In a moment I’m going to ask Louhi to toss this coin.” “Carter?” I repeat, quieter this time. He throws the coin to me and I catch it, frowning at the weight and the warmth. It’s one of those old sovereign coins that are no longer in circulation but are often mounted in jewelry as a nod to the old days. I wonder where he got it from. “Tonight Svyerson is up against Derby, a worthy opponent,” Carter continues, dragging my attention back to him as he strides around the edge of the cage.

 He looks pumped. No, he looks wired, there’s a jittery kind of energy pouring off him. It’s not fear, but excitement, and I’m not a hundred percent sure it’s the natural kind. His pupils are blown wide and he’s sweating. “As usual anything goes. The only difference is that tonight we allow weapons.” “What?” I exclaim, my Irish accent slipping through,  my eyes widening. Again I find myself looking at Svyerson and this time he shakes his head minutely, warning me not to protest. Swallowing hard, I bite back my concern and say nothing. Carter raises his brows, looking between us both as he notices the silent exchange.

“Louhi will throw the coin. If it lands on tails, Svyerson will get to choose his weapon of choice first. If it falls on heads, Derby will.” He motions over his shoulder to someone in the crowd. “Bring me the weapons.” Rodriguez steps into the cage, wearing his usual shit-eating grin. I grit my teeth, hating the way he smirks at me like he’s in on the joke and I’m the fucking punchline. Maybe I am. Standing between Svyerson and Derby, Rodriguez waits for further instruction. 

On the large silver tray are several weapons. Notably, a twelve inch butcher’s knife with a slightly curved blade, a pair of knuckle dusters with clawed tips, nunchucks, a crowbar and finally, a baseball bat. Jesus Christ. This is madness. I stride over to my dad, pressing my hand against his arm. “Carter, what are you doing?” I hissed. “Why? What’s it matter to you?” he replies, eyebrows arched. “Toss the coin, Louhi,” Svyerson orders, his heavy Texan accent  cutting in. The sheer fact he calls me Louhi and not Darlin or Saoirse has me feeling all kinds of ways, and the look he gives me makes my stomach flip and my spine tingle with fear.

 Rodriguez, the prick, laughs, adding to the already building tension. What the fuck does he find so damn funny? “Yes, toss the coin, Louhi,” Carter adds smoothly, turning his back on us all and moving to stand at the edge of the cage as he addresses the crowd. “Tonight the winner is the last man standing. This is a fight to the death.” “No!” I shout, unable to stop the word spilling from my lips, but it’s just background noise, lost as the crowd goes wild. Like a pack of baying wolves they’re out for blood. This is a fight to the death. To. The. Death.

 “NO!” I repeat, striding over to Carter, anger firing in my blood and my heart beating out of control. I grab his arm, unconcerned now at how this looks to the crowd, to him. “What the hell are you doing?!” Whilst the crowd goes fucking crazy, Carter grips my elbow and forcibly pulls me towards the centre of the ring where Rodriguez stands with the weapons and Svyerson and Derby eyeing each other up. “I’m doing this for you!” he hisses. “What do you mean, for me?” I reply, glancing at the Svyerson who shakes his head subtly.

Carter ignores me and Svyerson looks away, leaving me in total confusion as Carter once again raises his hands to quieten the crowd. “Louhi is about to toss the coin. Let’s see who gets to choose first.” “Do it,” Svyerson insists, softer this time as he meets my gaze. A thousand words and a whole host of emotions pass across his features. “It’s okay. I’ve got this.” This time Derby laughs. He steps close to me and I freeze, not because I’m afraid that he might touch me, but because if he does Svyerson will lose his shit and show everyone how he truly feels and he’ll wind up dead anyway. “Toss the coin, sweetheart, let the fun begin.” Derby purrs, making my  skin crawl,  I toss the coin. The crowd falls silent as the gold sovereign flips in the air. I watch it in slow motion as gravity pulls it down, my stomach dropping out at the same pace until eventually I catch it, covering the coin up with my hand.

 “Call it,” Carter demands as my racing pulse fills my ears with white noise. Slowly I lift my hand, my eyes dropping to the coin nestled in my palm. “Tails!” I announce loudly, a rush of relief that’s quickly overridden by a powerful dose of fear, because it doesn’t really matter if Svyerson gets to choose his weapon first, he could die anyway.

“Tales you win, heads you lose,” Svyerson shouts as he steps towards the tray of weapons, picking up the butcher’s knife and gripping the handle tightly. He taps the tray twice with the blade, pointing it at Derby. “And the fighters of this club never lose!” Then he turns to me and places his left hand over his chest, right where my handprint is tattooed into his skin. My stomach flips with apprehension and dread, but also love. I love him so much it hurts. “Svyerson—” I begin but around us the crowd go apeshit, and my words are drowned out by their hollering. “I know,” he mouths. “I know.” And whilst the crowd might not be aware of the unspoken words between us, my father certainly notices. The look he gives is deadly. He knows. When the crowd settles, Carter steps forward and withdraws his gun from the holster at his hip, placing it on the tray. “Let’s up the motherfucking anti, shall we?” he rasps out in a laugh that has all the blood draining from my face. “Dad?” I question, shaking my head in disbelief. “That’s not fair.” “My club, my rules!” he snaps, jerking his chin at Derby. “Choose.”

Derby smirks, or at least I think he does because I can’t really tell beneath his skull tattoo. He glances at the gun and I wait for him to grab it. Only he doesn’t. He picks up the crowbar instead. Rodriguez looks as shocked as Carter, but the crowd doesn’t care, they want a fight not an execution, and that’s what they’re going to get. With a tight jaw and even tighter voice, Carter addresses the crowd one last time. “May the best man win!” he yells, then grabs my arm and pulls me from the cage and marches me towards his office, shoving me inside before I can even blink, let alone watch the fight unfold.

 The moment the door slams shut behind us and Rodriguez—who has followed us both into the office like a bad fucking smell—the crowd goes insane. “What the fuck, Carter?!” I round on him, trying and failing to disguise my fear as my gaze flicks to the window in his office and the fight unfolds in the cage. Derby wastes no time and lunges for Svyerson, who ducks, the crowbar missing the top of his head by mere inches. Fuck! “What’s the problem, Louhi, afraid of a little bloodshed?”

“What’s my problem? Are you insane?! Svyerson could die!”

 I shout, snapping my head back around.

“You don’t think he’ll win?” My father questions, canting a look at Rodriguez who places the tray on the desk and smirks in that infuriating way of his.

 “What the fuck do you find so amusing?” I snarl ready to punch his fucking lights out. He holds his hands up.

 “Absolutely nothing. No disrespect meant,” he replies, completely insincere, the smarmy bastard.

 “Get the fuck out!” I snap, reaching for my father’s gun and pointing it at him. The feel of the cool metal in my hand is comforting. “Don’t be hasty,” he stutters, his fucking smile dropping as he looks to Carter. “You heard Louhi. Get the fuck out.” Rodriguez spins on his heels, not needing to be told twice. When he opens the door, I catch a glimpse of Svyerson receiving a blow to his upper arm, the tip of the crowbar scraping across his bicep. Blood bursts from the wound and I swear I can hear Svyerson’s grunt of pain over the roar of the crowd. “Svyerson!” I yell, my desperate call lost behind the door slamming shut. “It’s true then?” Carter questions. 

“What’s true?” I questioned

 “That you and Svyerson have been fucking.”

“What? No!” I exclaim, my fingers curling around the handle of the gun even as my arm hangs loosely at my side. “He’s a friend.” “Like Hudson is?” Carter asks, looking over my shoulder. I turn to figure out what he’s looking at and see that Hudson’s on the other side of the window, being prevented entrance by Rodriguez who’s apparently guarding the fucking door now. I whip my head around and glare at Carter. “What is this?” I have a question. “Hudson is a friend. Svyerson is a friend. That’s it, that’s all.”

 Carter shakes his head, stepping towards me. “You’re a liar!” “We haven’t been fucking, Carter!” I counter, my voice rising in distress. It’s not a lie, we haven’t, but not from lack of trying on my part. He laughs, and it comes out cold and distant. “Hudson is your friend. I believe that. It’s one of the reasons why he’s not fucking dead already.” “What?” I whisper, dread creeping over my skin as his gaze darkens with malice. “You’re my daughter, Louhi. You forget that I know you.” “Carter… Dad,” I pleaded. “You’ve got to believe me, we’re not together. Put an end to this madness. Now!”

Gripping my arm, he twists me on my feet and pushes me towards the window, pulling up the blind so that I can see the fight more clearly. Hudson sees the movement and shouts at me through the glass. “You alright?” I nod, warning him with my eyes to back off before he gets himself hurt, but it’s Rodriguez who forcibly manhandles him out of the way. Hudson puts up a fight, throwing a punch that hits Rodriguez on the chin and forces him back against the door with a loud crash. “Maybe Hudson has more than just smarts,” Carter says, a note of respect in his voice as Rodriguez retaliates and the pair get into a brawl. “Wonder whether he’d be up to fight in the cage?” “Absolutely not!” I exclaim, moving towards the door so I can break up the fight then put a stop to the one in the cage. 

Carter laughs, snatching my arm and yanking me back against his chest. “Yeah you’re right, I can’t have that pretty head of his losing any brain cells. I think he’ll come in handy down the line.” “Useful how? What are you—?” My question is cut short when Mark appears from the crowd and strides over to the pair, forcibly pulling Hudson off Rodriguez. Hudson’s face is pitted with rage and he spits out a glob of blood before casting his gaze to me. I shake my head, warning him not to continue, but it’s only when Mark drops his mouth to Hudson’s ear that he finally backs off.

 That and the fact Mark has a gun pressed against his side. With one last look at me, Hudson grits his jaw and follows Mark to the other side of the room, disappearing from view. “Carter! What the hell is Mark doing?” I ask, panic crawling beneath my skin. “Don’t worry, Mark won’t shoot him. Like I said, he’s going to come in useful in the future. Mark will escort him home. Make sure he gets back safe and sound,” Carter says, but that doesn’t reassure me in the slightest. It only concerns me more. Hudson’s a good guy. He’s working hard to get himself and his brothers out from beneath the stigma of being a child in care.

 Crime is the road he never wants to walk down. Another roar from the crowd has my gaze snatching back to the cage. Svyerson has just slashed his knife right across Derby’s chest, spilling blood that sprays across the canvas as they continue to fight. “Dad, you’ve got to believe me. End this.” 

“See, here’s the thing, Louhi. I don’t fucking believe you. I know Svyerson touched what’s mine!” he replies sharply, grabbing the back of my neck and forcing me to watch the fight. “Dad…” I plead, hating the way my voice gives me away. This is all my fault. Every part of it. “There’s nothing going on!” But even to my own ears it sounds false. “DON’T BULLSHIT ME!” he roars, squeezing my neck tighter, his fingers digging painfully into my skin. “Now watch the fight!” “Don’t do this,” I argue. Beg, actually.

 “This is for your own good, but if you fight me on this then I will go out there right the fuck now and shoot him in the motherfucking head,” he hisses into my ear. “Do you understand me?” “Yes,” I whisper, giving Svyerson the only chance I can because Carter is many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. Svyerson has to win this fight so that together we can convince Carter he’s wrong. It’s the only chance he has. The only chance we have. As my gaze lands on Svyerson, I silently mouth the words he’d uttered just minutes ago inside the cage, sending a silent prayer to the man I love. “Tales you win, heads you lose, and the fighters of Tales never lose.” He has to win. He has to.

Syverson’s pov

Death is pretty fucking painless when all is said and done. I don’t feel a goddamn thing, not the broken ribs, not the gashes to my arms, chest, back and thighs from the crowbar Derby is wielding so expertly. I don’t feel my broken nose or cracked eye-socket. I don’t feel the bruises  or the deep gash to my head that sent me free-falling into the arms of darkness. I don’t feel anything. But I do hear something. A scream.

A fucking cry of pain so loud, so deafening, that even in the throes of death it drives a hook into my soul and drags me back from the motherfucking light at the end of the tunnel. A light that shouldn’t welcome the likes of me, but does. It comes again, and again and again. Her screams punctuated with my name. 

Sy

 Sy

 Sy

 Svyerson!

 It’s familiar, her voice, and the pain within it is like a fist wrapping around my heart and forcing it to pump faster, harder, until death crawls away and the light fades, leaving me with nothing but excruciating pain and a banging fucking headache. 

Right now, I can do nothing other than feel.

 Feel the pain.

 Feel the bloody canvas beneath my cheek.

 Feel fingers pinch my skin as someone tries to roll me over.

 Feel a heart breaking open with every second I don’t respond.

 “Svyerson, please wake up!”

 Darlin.

 Saoirse.

 But try as I might, I can’t fucking move.

I can barely fucking breathe. I’m incapable of anything other than holding on to her voice, using it to ground me, to lure me back to consciousness, one painful breath at a time. More noise filters into my brain that’s rapidly trying to make sense of the situation. Memories piece together as the sound of a man yelling at everyone to get the fuck out rings in the air.  It’s Dom. Deeper voices merge with the cacophony of sound, Saoirse’s sobs a burden as she lies across my back, pawing at me now. Yet I remain still, weighted down by her grief.

 Fuck knows I want to reassure her, I want to tell her that I’m alive, that I’ve survived the single hardest fight of my life, but that would be a lie. The biggest fight is yet to come. So I lay here instead, on the blood-splattered canvas, and wait for my other senses to return one by one, drawing on every last drop of strength left in my body and gathering it together so I can do what  I must and protect the woman I love. After sound and touch, scent returns. 

The smell of blood, metallic and meaty. I’m surrounded by the stench of it. Fucking choking on it. Next it’s sight. Spots of color invade my vision as I slowly crack open my eyes a sliver. The world reappears in shades of red first. There’s blood everywhere, a huge fucking pool of it that I’m lying in. But as I focus, trying to ignore the metallic stench of butchered flesh, my gaze falls to a wide-eyed Derby, his sightless eyes unseeing, the knife I impaled him with sticking out of his gut, the serrated edge making mincemeat of his bowels. Didn’t stop him from bringing down the crowbar on my head though. The last thing I remember is blood spurting from his lips before the world went black. He’s dead. I’m the victor. Except I’m not. Not yet. Because our fight was just a show, a fucking good one at that, given death had me in its grasp only moments ago and Derby has stepped into the afterlife. The King wanted Derby dead for fucking his wife and Carter wanted me dead for loving his daughter. They both needed revenge. Looks like I fucking delivered, at least partly. “Remove the bodies. Get this shit cleaned up,” I hear Carter order, his voice a cold, unyielding hammer to my painful head. “Yes, boss,” Dom replies, the heaviness of his voice as painful to hear as Saoirse’s distress is. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was gutted by my apparent death.

“Get the fuck away from him!” Saoirse yells, her weight pushing off of me as she stands. I watch through slitted lids as she strides towards Carter, gun in hand, oblivious to the fact I’m not actually dead. Not fucking yet, anyway. She’s holding a gun, and that makes me feel so much better because fuck knows I’ve been worrying about her from the moment she stepped out of the cage with Carter. I’d lost sight of her almost immediately, too busy trying not to fucking die and knowing that I had to win this fight in order to keep her safe from him. Except she isn’t safe. She never will be whilst he remains alive. “Lower the gun, Louhi!” Carter demands. “There’s no need for dramatics. Everyone’s fucking gone.” “Fuck you, Carter!” she replies, refusing to do as he demands. Good girl. Rodriguez, the King and Dom are standing just outside of the cage, right in my line of vision. Both the King and Rodriguez are watching this all unfold, neither paying me any attention. Clearly they think I’m dead, just like Saoirse and Carter do. Dom’s gaze however falls to me, his eyes widening a fraction as I blink at him a couple of times, willing him not to rat me out. I’m praying I’ve read him right and he’s going to keep his mouth shut.

 I’ve got one chance at this, and one chance only. He gives me the tiniest nod, then looks away. I make a mental note to buy him a fucking drink when this shit is over. “You’re a fucking monster!” Saoirse yells. I’ve never seen her so enraged, so fucking broken, so radiantly beautiful in her anger.

 I want nothing more than to stand by her side, to back her whilst she takes on her father and any other motherfucker who dares try to control her. Instead, I use these few precious moments to gather my wits and concentrate on mentally checking my body. I hurt, there’s no denying that, but that’s a good thing. Hurting means I’m alive, and that’s all I need to be to end this. “Louhi, lower the gun and behave.”

  “Behave?! Screw you!” Louhi continues, screaming at her father now, her rage undeniable. “You killed him!” Carter shakes his head. “No, he did that all by himself by fucking you and fucking me over. He knew the rules. He broke them. There was only ever going to be one motherfucking outcome. Betray me and die. End of.” “We’ve never fucked!” she screams, lifting the gun and aiming it at Carter’s chest. “Svyerson is loyal, so fucking loyal that he refused to sleep with me even when I offered myself up to him!”

For a moment Carter appears taken aback, then a smile glides across his face. “You think I’m fucking stupid? No man would ever deny themselves a hot piece of ass, so your lies are worthless to me. Svyerson made me a promise, Louhi, and he broke it when he went after you. He betrayed me.” “He didn’t!” Louhi exclaims, her broken voice taking on a hard edge as they circle one another. I watch transfixed, enraptured by the woman who’s snared my heart so thoroughly. She’s a lioness, prowling, baring her teeth at her dad, a man who was willing to sell her to pay off his debts. 

Yeah, he’s that man. Looks like The Crib Club has been a home away from home for Carter over the last six months, and all of Tales’ profits have been sunk into card games and pussy. Turns out the bastard was willing to sell his daughter to the King to clear the debts racked up by his gambling habits and addiction to pleasure. A debt that I will clear the moment I kill the cunt. Carter might be acting holier than thou right now, but he’s the fucking villain, not me, and because of that he won’t live to see another day. The moment he has his back to me, I launch myself upright. Adrenaline and the need to protect the woman I love propelling my feet forward the few paces to rip the knife from Derby’s body and then drive it into Carter’s back, straight through his heart.

He dies instantly. He didn’t see it coming and neither did Saoirse. Her face is a mixture of astonishment and relief as she stares at me, oblivious in the moment that her dad is dead in my arms. Her eyes brim with tears, tears that never fall as relief is quickly replaced with shock, then bewilderment as blood gurgles up Carter’s throat, spilling from his lips. I watch in slow motion, breathing heavily from the exertion and pain as she tries to make sense of what’s happened. Her eyes widen and her body stiffens as realization dawns. Drawing the knife free with one hard yank, I let Carter’s body fall to the canvas with a loud thud. He falls onto his back, blood pumping from the wound and mingling with the viscous pool beneath my feet. “Saoirse,” I murmur, my arms falling to my side as I drop to my knees with exhaustion right beside Carter. His sightless eyes stare up at me, and even though I know he’s dead, I need to make sure. Ripping at his shirt, I pull it open, revealing his bare flesh. Blood oozes from the wound on his chest, streaking down his skin in rivulets. Despite the leaking blood, his chest is still. “Carter?” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion as her gaze drops to him. “It’s over,” I reply, looking up at her.

She’s pale, ghostly, her mouth hanging open as she blinks with confusion. “Svyerson?” “It’s over,” I repeat. Only that dark part of me, the part that is more Svyerson than man, still needs to prove to her that I’m willing to cut the heart out of any man who dares hurt her, that I’m willing to do whatever the fuck it takes to protect her. So, with a bloodcurdling roar, I stab the knife through Carter’s sternum, using the serrated edge to saw through his bone. She deserves nothing less than his bloody heart, and I’m going to deliver it to her right the fuck now. “Stop!” she shouts, her demand stilling my hand. My head lifts, the rage I feel at the man who so easily wanted to sell his daughter making way for another emotion, empathy. She looks broken. 

Defeated in a way that guts me. I drop my hands from the knife handle, falling back on my arse as I watch the woman I love drop to her knees. “Saoirse, listen,” I reach for her, but she shakes my hand away, flinching from my touch. “Don’t!” “Saoirse…” But the look she gives me quietens me faster than any weapon ever could. “Dad?” she questions, resting the gun on the floor beside her then cupping Carter’s face. “Dad?” Her voice is no more than a whisper as she twists his head to the side, ducking closer to him and ignoring the twelve inch knife sticking out of his brutalized chest. “He’s dead.” My head snaps up as I watch the King step into the cage, followed by Rodriguez and Dom. I’d almost forgotten about them. Rodriguez is uncharacteristically quiet, and Dom gives me a small nod. He’s a smart man, he knows that I would never do something like this if I didn’t have a good fucking reason for it. There will be time for an explanation, but that time isn’t now. “You!” she hisses, grabbing the gun and getting to her feet, aiming it at the King. “This was you!” “No, Saoirse,” I interrupt as I force myself to my feet, readying myself to act if the King decides to go back on his word. Fuck only knows it gets my goat backing the cunt, but this is all part of the deal I made to keep Saoirse safe. “Shut the hell up, Svyerson!” I want to tell Saoirse everything, and I will when I can ensure her safety, but right now I just need to get her through this night without starting a fucking war.

 Keeping Saoirse in the dark for a short time will protect her in the long run. It has to. “You’d be wise to listen to your boyfriend, Louhi,” the King says, unperturbed by the fact she is pointing her gun at his head. “Trust me, Saoirse,” I urged, willing her to see past the carnage. To think and not act this time. At The Crib Club I made my own deal with the King after he revealed Carter’s plans. The King had said that he’d never intended on taking Saoirse for his own, and whilst I didn’t believe a word of it, I was willing to suspend disbelief to get what I wanted for Saoirse. Her security, her safety, and her father’s debt paid in full. All I had to do was kill Derby and Carter. The King would remain a silent business partner, and continue to provide fighters, taking a cut of the profits. In turn he would keep her in business under his protection, and whilst the whole part about him giving her his protection is a bitter pill to swallow, I’m man enough to know that I’m only one man, and one man does not an army make. At least not until Saoirse and I can build one ourselves. And we will.

The caveat to this agreement was that I take full responsibility for killing her dad, hiding the fact that a contract was drawn up between the two men. To be honest, after the King showed me their contract, killing Carter was the easiest fucking decision to make. Not killing the King for agreeing to it, the motherfucking hardest. I don’t like the man. Don’t fucking trust him, and I certainly don’t believe he will keep to his side of the deal, but for the time being I’m willing to let him live so that Saoirse and I can make a plan, and build a fucking army. There will come a day when we’ll both have our revenge, but in the meantime we use him, then take him out when the time is right. “This is on you,” she snarls, her rage fucking beautiful to behold.

 She may be at her most vulnerable right now, but she is fierce, and one day soon she’ll be unstoppable. “This has nothing to do with me,” the King says without even flinching. I’ll give him that, the guy has balls of fucking steel and the best poker face I’ve ever seen. “You’re a liar,” she accuses, her finger tightening over the trigger. “Saoirse, this is on me,” I say, stepping over Carter’s body and standing between her and the King, stumbling a little as my head pounds like a motherfucker.

I fucking hate that I’m in this position, protecting the King, but it’s only temporary. His time will come. “Bullshit. What do you have on Svyerson?” Saoirse presses, stepping to the side, trying to get a clear shot at the King. I move in front of her again and she bares her teeth at me. “Not a thing,” the King replies. “I’m as shocked as you are about how this all panned out.” “Bullshit!” she shouts, fury leaking from her now. “Saoirse, listen,” I say, holding my hands up and trying my fucking best not to pass the fuck out. “This is on me. I’m responsible.” “What?” she asks, snapping her gaze back to me. “I went to Carter this morning about us. I explained everything to him. I tried to make him listen. He wouldn’t.” “And he didn’t kill you the second you told him?” I shake my head. “No. He said if I won the fight tonight then he’d allow us to be together. I took him for his word, Saoirse,” I lied, because I didn’t say a damn thing about us. As far as I was concerned he knew nothing. I only realized that wasn’t the case when he asked Rodriguez to bring the weapons into the cage. Right now I’m not a hundred percent certain which fuck told him, but given the look on Rodriguez’s face, I’m guessing it’s him. “He wanted me dead. That’s why he allowed weapons into the ring. He also wanted a bloodbath, and he fucking got one.” “Yet you survived,” she whispers, sadness brimming in her eyes as she aims the gun at me now.

“Saoirse, what are you doing?” “You killed my dad, Svyerson.” “I had to do it. He would never have allowed us to be together, Saoirse,” I say, covering up the fact that I did it to protect her. That he was the fucking monster ready to sell her off to the King to save his own arse. “And I have to do this,” she replies, her sadness replaced now with a hardness that is so much like her dad it makes my blood run cold. “We can work this out,” I say, watching as she shuts down her emotions one by one. “I will never be respected in this business if I let you walk after what you did.” “Saoirse, I was protecting you!” “Don’t you see, it doesn’t fucking matter. We could’ve found a way around this together, but you chose to murder Carter instead. How can I let that go? Tell me how?” she pleads.

“Darlin, think about this…” Dom says, his voice trailing off when she snatches her head around to look at him. “It’s Louhi to you,” she snarls. “Louhi, listen, you’re in shock,” he says quickly, and the room around me fucking spins as darkness claws at my brain. “Understandably so, but even I can see that Svyerson did what he had to do.” 

“And where does that leave me?” she shouts, her voice cracking. “Carter is dead and the club is mine.” Her gaze flicks back to me now and the anguish in her eyes almost floors me. “It’s too late for me to choose. They’ll walk all over me if I don’t do this. You know that.”

 “No one would dare fuck with you, not with my backing, Louhi,” the King interjects. “I have a reputation enough for the both of us.” “And what makes you think I want your backing, huh? This is my club now,” she snaps. “Well, see, that’s where things get a little complicated,” the King says, and my fucking stomach bottoms out because I know why that is. Carter well and truly fucked the gravy train on this one. “What do you mean?” she asks, the gun moving from my chest back to the King’s.

“In order to get my backing, your father signed over a percentage of the club to me. I now own a forty-eight percent share in the club, and that will remain in place for as long as it is profitable for the both of us or you’re able to raise two million dollars to buy me out.” “Two million dollars? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” “Those were the terms of our deal, Louhi,” the King says, conveniently leaving out the most important part, that Carter was going to sell her to him to clear his debts and secure the deal. I glance at the King, not liking the way he’s fucking smirking like he assumes she’ll never be able to raise that kind of money. He’s a fool to underestimate her. 

“Or I could just shoot you dead and rip up the contract now,” she replies, bringing a smile to my lips. “I’m feeling particularly trigger happy.” “You could, but we both know that wouldn’t be wise. I have men who know where I am and what time I’m expected back. If I don’t turn up they’ll rain hellfire down on you. You stand alone, Louhi, with one man barely alive.” “She has me too,” Dom says. “Three against two hundred loyal men. You do the math,” the King retorts. I can see the defeat written across her face as she tries hard to figure out what to do. We both know that acting out of passion and anger now will be a mistake.

 She’s smart enough to know that what she needs is time to figure everything out, to make a plan. That’s what I’ve given her, us. Time. “You’re right, it wouldn’t be wise to kill you.” “That’s a good girl,” he replies, the fucking patronising prick. “But don’t for one second think you can walk all over me. I’m not a bleeding heart. I’m a Davidson… No, I’m Louhi and no one fucks with me. Let this be your warning.” “Understood,” the King retorts evenly. She shifts her attention back to me. “I warned you not to break my heart.” 

“I was protecting you!” I protest. “No, killing Carter wasn’t about you protecting me, it was about you protecting yourself and believing that I’m incapable of finding a solution to a problem that affects the both of us.” “That wasn’t what—” I begin, but she cuts me off. “Once again you failed to consider that I had a say in all of this. Me. I don’t need a man to make decisions for me, I need a man who’s willing to stand beside me whilst we find a solution together. You’re just like all the rest.” “Saoirse, you don’t understand…” “Don’t. Not another word, Svyerson.”

“I did this for us, for you. I fucking love you,” I say, willing her to believe me. Needing her to know, if nothing else, that’s the truth. “Love?” she laughs bitterly. “People like you and me don’t get to love.” Then she points her gun at me and pulls the motherfucking trigger.

[witchersmistress]

Captian Syverson Master List

Total work:11

On Going Series:

Tails you win: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/716840196299276288/tails-you-win?source=share

Heads you lose: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/718035448570724352/heads-you-lose?source=share

Dom Sy:

Family Get- togethers: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/719747967482986496/family-is-everything?source=share

Briar Rose: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/719881518496055296/briar-rose?source=share

Hot as Hades:

Down fall of eros: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/724322658737668096/hades-down-fall?source=share

The Bargian: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/725941086781161472/the-bargian?source=share

Vampire Sy:

New Orleans: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/730125034890395648/new-orleans?source=share

A guarded walk home: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/730375070899388416/a-guarded-walk-home?source=share

Home Sweet Home: https://www.tumblr.com/witchersmistress/731077566316871681/home-sweet-home?source=share&ref=witchersmistres

One shots:

[minmiin1d]

Henry Cavill gave fanfic writers inspiration for the next 6 months 😂😂

[minmiin1d]

Where the fuck is henry cavill????