#he’s right he’s a father of two unholy terrors now

[sentient-stove]

“Over there is Drake, he’s with us because JL Light kept saying no to the teenage group so now they made him my and JLD’s problem. Also he kept trying to raise the dead. And kept succeeding.”

“It’s not my fault it’s so easy,” Drake muttered without looking away from his project. “And Batman wasn’t dead the last time. You bring back three people and suddenly everyone thinks you’re a budding necromancer. It shouldn’t be my fault I’m using the available resources for the best solution.”

Constantine somehow looked even more dead than Elle as he pointed to the teenager that had taken up residence on the counter, the rest of the space covered with no less than four laptops. “Do not see him as a role model. He broke reality that first time.”

Man, she already knew they were going to get along like a house on fire. Elle waved cheerfully at Drake. “Quack.” She said. Constantine just sighed and went for his lighter.

Drake looked at her in befuddlement. “Quack?”

“A drake is a duck yeah? So, quack.”

“I prefer the drakes being dragons route.” He said. “More mysterious and powerful.”

“Ah. Rawr then.” The lesser of the two options. Drake had clearly never met a true duck. Maybe Elle could sneak one in one of these days and introduce Drake to a better namesake.

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 19

An update in less than a month? What is this?

This is the long anticipated update and I'm so excited to share it with you. Please let me know what you guys think!

Words: 5500

Warnings: All the feels! brief violence, language, just grab some tissues.

Series Masterlist

Ivar loathed all hospitals with an unholy passion. Far too much of his childhood was spent surrounded by sterile white walls and people in scrubs giving him pitying looks that boiled his blood. He hated the continuous beeping sounds, that unnatural sterile scent, even the loud-ass flooring that made each step sound like a heavy weight being dropped.  He despised everything about hospitals. 

But none of that crossed his mind as he stormed into the main lobby of one with the force of an unrelenting tornado. 

He slammed his hand down on the counter, feeling his bones rattle and threaten to break but he ignored the pain. He already had one hand in a cast, why not the other? 

“Where is Kari Larsen?” He demanded of the two nurses behind the counter. 

Neither nurse berated him of how he cut in line, bypassing the four other people, to demand their attention. A fucking miracle. As he stood there, waves of anger and desperation crashing over him, he wondered if they could see it and it kept their mouths shut. Was it so obvious how his edges were fraying? How what sanity he possessed was beginning to crumble until he knew - he could see - that Kari was alive. 

One of them glanced over his shoulder, at his father and brother flanking him, and waved him closer. “Give me a moment and I'll check.”

The desire to scream at her to ‘hurry the fuck up’, ‘didn't she know who he was’, and how he wanted to ‘burn this entire building to the ground’ stung the back of his throat. But none of that passed his lips. For immobilizing terror gripped at his heart with claws sunk in deep, making that blackened organ threaten to stutter to a stop. How his lungs ached as if petrifying within his chest causing each breath to be a struggle to take in. 

He had promised her. 

He fucking PROMISED! 

Uncaring of his hardened reputation, of never showing pain, he dropped his head in his hands, the cast rubbing against his cheek. He tried to take a deep breath, but the panic and self-loathing continued to crush his chest like a Medieval torture device. He just needed to know…he needed to see her. 

Please…

The nurse's ‘customer' voice broke through his internal panic. “Miss Larsen is still in the emergency room but has been moved to a separate room for examination.”

Ivar moved before the nurse fully finished her sentence. Ignoring all those around him, he stormed through that hospital with only one destination in mind. At this point, he almost wished someone would try to stop him so he could hit someone, just do something instead of feeling like he was falling apart. Anger, he knew. Anger, he could work with. But not this terror, not this panic that was draining his sanity and attempting to suffocate him. 

Perhaps, it was the scowl on his face that made people jump out of his way, the aura of danger that radiated off of him, or how he was flanked by his father and brother. With only a few concerned stares from nurses or those that worked there, he guessed they recognized him and his family. He had visited this godforsaken place enough times. Besides, he was a Lothbrok. 

And Lothbroks owned this city. 

Hvitserk raced ahead to open the doors leading into the emergency area, separate from the main hospital. They passed through without incident, into the chaos and mayhem. Sounds of a baby screaming, raised voices, the tang of blood and antiseptic cleaner, it all assaulted his senses but it barely phased him. There was only one thing he cared about right now. 

Marching up to the large desk, he stopped, glaring at the first nurse he came across. Her gray hair was tied back in a bun, with a ‘don't give a fuck anymore’ look as she typed away on the computer. 

Too bad she had met her match today. 

“Kari Larsen. Where is she?” He gritted through his teeth. 

The older nurse sighed, looking up at him. “Young man, you need to wait–”

“WHERE IS SHE??!”

Silence echoed in the room. The sudden lack of sound felt like a black hole that suddenly exploded to destroy them all. All eyes turned to the trio at the front desk.

His father put a hand on Ivar's shoulder as he stepped up beside him. Most likely intervening before Ivar jumped over the counter and repeatedly stabbed the ugly bitch with that damn pen she kept clicking. 

“We received a call from this hospital that Kari Larsen was here. We've come to check on her and I am personally paying for any treatment she receives while here.”

“Fine. Your name, sir?”

“Ragnar Lothbrok.” He smirked lazily. “My information is on file. Send the bill to Mr Weber, the CFO. He knows how to contact me with any further questions.”

The five other nurses behind the desk all stared, one or two having paled at the name of Lothbrok spoken. The older nurse before them began to stutter out a response, her eyes having widened and mouth dropped open, like an wrinkly goldfish. 

“Now, you will answer my son's question.” His father's voice hardened in displeasure. “In which room is Kari Larsen?”

“I…um…” One of the nurses stumbled out, clasping a blue patient folder to her chest like it was some shield to protect her from the Lothbrok's wrath. “I brought her for a CT scan…just…fifteen minutes ago, maybe.”

“Excellent, now–” Ragnar started to say but a rasped cry yanked the youngest Lothbrok's attention away. 

“Ivar!”

He spun on his heel, facing the hallway just behind him and slightly to his right. All his fear, panic, anger, self-loathing- it all bubbled up to spectacularly erupt as he heard that voice call his name. Her voice! A voice even after three weeks without hearing its sound, he immediately knew. The voice his soul cried out for. 

And there she was. 

Beautiful…

Perfect…

….with dried blood on the side of her head and splattered on her sweater. 

“Kari!” As quickly as his crippled legs could go, he bolted towards her. 

At his responding cry, she broke away from the nurse walking next to her. The damn nurse tried to grab her, but Kari shook her hand off and began running. 

Running to him! 

With tears running down her cheeks. 

She slammed into him, almost knocking them over with her momentum. Ivar stumbled back a couple steps, barely catching his footing, but he did not care. She was in his arms. Where she should be. Where she was meant to be. Finally. 

As soon as she was enclosed in his arms, face pressed against his chest and hands fisting the front of his shirt, she began sobbing earnestly. He tightened his arms around her, drawing her as physically possible against himself as her whole body shook with each ragged sob. 

Hearing her, he wished he could carve his chest open and allow her to crawl in. Fuck, he would do anything to take her pain, to have her even closer, to prove he was never letting her go again. 

That he would always protect her. 

“I've got you, Kari. I'm here.” The words flowed from him like an anguished prayer. “I'm here, sweet Kari. I'm not going anywhere.”

The scent of blood clung to her but he ignored it for the moment. She was here in his arms. Alive and well. 

That was all that mattered. 

He could have stood there for all eternity, the world continuing to spin and empires rising and falling without an ounce of care from him. None of it mattered. Three weeks he had been in turmoil and despair, waiting, wondering, hoping for a sign from her. Anything to prove she still cared about him, still wanted him. That he had not completely fucked up the best thing in his life with a stupid mistake. He planned on planting roots right here on the dirty hospital floor for as long as Kari needed him. The fucking nurses and other patients could move around his crippled ass. 

His father had other plans though. 

A tap on his shoulder had Ivar looking up into his father's face, a subtle look of relief there.  “There's a room for her. Let's move her there.”

He gave a brief nod. With the movement, he became aware of the moisture on his face. When had he started crying? He had been so absorbed in finally - finally! - seeing his kitten, in holding her and providing any kind of comfort she needed, he had not realized his own roiling emotions had exploded out in tears of relief and gratitude, that he was practically bleeding out his stress and harbored despair. And for one of the first times in his life, he did not care if others saw his tears. 

Somehow he coaxed Kari along as he followed his father. A strange dance as they moved since she seemed to have no inclination of letting him go. Not that he objected in any way. It was in moments like this he cursed his legs, for if he was whole-bodied he could have picked Kari up and carried her. Instead, with an arm tight around her shoulders and her pressed against his side, refusing to release her vice-like grip on his shirt, they slowly moved. 

The ‘room’ they were directed to was just a curtained off section with a single bed, single chair and some monitors pressed against the wall behind the bed. Similar to the many other sectioned off ‘rooms’ of patients waiting to be moved on or sent home. 

Carefully, Ivar maneuvered Kari and himself to sit on the hospital bed. She curled against him, her ear against his heart and one hand toying with his Mjölnir necklace. His arm wrapped around her, pulling her against him. His other hand's fingers were intertwined with hers in his lap. 

Like sentinels, his father sat in the chair, sharp gaze shifting from the closed curtain to his youngest son, while his brother took up position next to their father, arms crossed over his chest. The two began whispering but Ivar only briefly noted their presence.

His attention was drawn to Kari as she whispered something. 

“What was that, kattungen?”

“You came.” She breathed, her voice raspy and shaky as if holding back more tears. “I gave them your number. I–I wasn't sure if you'd come. I just...I was scared and wanted you.”

How was it possible with such a simple statement, it completely disarmed him. His heart lurched at hearing the undercurrent of fear in her voice, sounding like a child admitting they were scared of the dark. What was worse, what broke his heart, was her fear that he would not come. That he would abandon her. 

He pressed his lips to the top of her head in a slow syrup-like kiss, hoping his actions and words would penetrate through her worry. “I'll always come for you.”

“Please don't leave.”

He tipped his head up for a moment, a useless act to try and stop the fresh wave of tears from flowing freely down his cheeks. “I promise.” His voice broke as he answered. “I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave you.”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” She sobbed out, clinging to him even tighter if possible. 

“Shhh…it's okay. Let's focus on getting you out of here, okay?”

She nodded, a faint thing, but he felt it for how tightly she was pressed against him. 

A couple minutes later, a doctor stepped behind the curtain, joining the crowded space. He paused a moment, seeing to register the group along with his patient. He cleared his throat loudly before glancing down at the folder in hand. 

“Good day, I'm Doctor Schultz, the attending doctor here today. Miss Larsen?” The doctor paused, eyes focused on his patient. 

When she did not respond, Ivar squeezed her hand. “It's okay, søte Kari, I'm here.”

“Yes, doctor?” She quietly, hesitantly, said. 

“How are you feeling?”

With that fucking stupid question, Ivar wanted to punch the absolute, incompetent asshole of a doctor but settled for glaring at him over Kari's head. 

“I've been better.” She replied. 

The doctor smiled. “I'm sure. The good news is your scans came back clean. You do not appear to have any cranial or brain damage more than a concussion.” He hesitated, as if rolling around a question in his mind before carefully allowing it out. “Is there anywhere else that hurts? My understanding is the paramedics said you were initially screaming when they arrived on scene.”

“Doctor, can you explain what occurred? We were not told about the incident beyond the fact that she was being attended to at this hospital.” Ragnar broke in, his voice broking no argument that his question would be answered first. 

“Of course. Miss Larsen and a companion were involved in a car accident. It appears another driver was not paying attention and drove through a red light, impacting their vehicle.”

A car accident.  

A goddamn car accident. 

Inhaling sharply, Ivar felt the air stick to his lungs like glue. Mentally he thanked the gods, Fate and anyone listening for keeping Kari safe. The outcome could have been very different. 

“Is Erik okay?” The quiet query came from beside Ivar.  

“I'm not supposed to speak of other patients,” the doctor said but his face softened as he looked at Kari, “but I just saw him and he sustained more injuries than you. He likely will be walking out of here later today.”

“Erik?” Ivar asked his kitten. 

“My neighbor. He was driving us to the grocery store.”

Erik. Fucking Erik. Ivar did not like the overly friendly neighbor, the twat was trying to encroach on HIS territory. Now hearing this, he hated the man even more. The accident may not have been entirely his fault, but Kari was injured and traumatized while in his presence. That was unforgivable. 

“Miss Larsen, is there anywhere that hurts? You were fairly nonverbal when you arrived.”

“My…my shoulder…and my neck.”

“May I take a look?”

Ivar loathed to separate from her, but he removed his arm from behind her so the doctor would examine her. Damn, if he was going to move though. Plus with the way Kari did not release his hand, he doubted she wanted him further away. 

The doctor opened his mouth, but at the look that promised death on Ivar's face, he wisely did not ask Ivar to move. 

“Hmm.” The doctor hummed as he looked at Kari's neck and ran a hand along the slender column. Gently, he tugged the neckline of her sweater to see better after touching it and asking if his touch caused pain.  

Ivar gritted his teeth, as he glared with disdain at the invasive doctor. He was ready to intervene any moment the doctor went too far in his opinion but a purposeful squeeze from Kari's hand brought him back down. To distract them both, he brought their entwined fingers to his mouth. Teasingly, he kissed each of her knuckles as he held eye contact and gave a cheeky wink. His heart soared as a faint blush warmed her cheeks and a small, shy smile turned the corners of her lips up.

“Well, Miss Larsen,” the doctor stepped back and scribbled on his chart, “I do not see anything too concerning. I suspect the pain is from whiplash and the seat belt tightening. I can already see some bruising beginning on your shoulder, which may worsen. Unless the pain dramatically increases, you will be fine. You will be sore for a few days. My suggestion is to take some over the counter pain meds and rest for the next several days. If the pain worsens, either in your body or your head, come back to the ER. Any increasing headaches, double vision, spots in your vision, fainting, anything along those lines, please return and we will check on your concussion again. Before I release you, do you have anywhere to stay that someone can watch over you?”

“She's staying with me.”

Both the doctor's and Kari's gazes swung back to him but he only stared resolute at the man that needed to hurry the fuck up. 

“Alright…Miss, are you agreeable to that?” 

She nodded silently. 

“Good. One final question, the paramedics were quite concerned about your hysterics. They made note that you only seemed to calm once they helped you out of the vehicle and even then you were silent and unresponsive for a period of time. Do you remember any of this?”

“Yes.” She croaked out, a violent shiver shaking her fragile form. 

“Can you explain what happened?”

“Is this fucking necessary?” Ivar seethed, curling his arm protectively around her and tugging her back into his side. 

“I would like to follow through with–”

Ragnar stood up, blue eyes hard as ice as he stared down the doctor. “Thank you for your time and follow through. If you can finalize the release paperwork, we will be on our way and allow you to move on with your many other patients.”

Bewildered gaze swinging to every person in the room, as if silently questioning Ragnar's subtle rebuke, the doctor sharply exhaled and stepped back to the closed curtain. “I will send a nurse in to provide the paperwork.”

With that the intrusive doctor swung open the curtain and strutted away. 

Once out of sight, Ivar mumbled, “thought he'd never fucking shut up.”

“Be nice.” Kari murmured without any heat in it, more as if it was a reflex. 

Ragnar stepped around the bed and began rustling through the small rolling cart beside the bed. He came back around with an antiseptic wipe. Ivar watched as his father ripped it open and then delicately wiped away the lingering blood on her temple and ear, with far more physical tenderness than he had ever shown his sons. Kari hissed at the initial contact but did not pull away, closing her eyes and slowly taking deep breaths. 

Once cleaned to his satisfaction, Ragnar tossed the wipe into the nearby bin. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair as if steeling himself for something. Ivar glanced over at his brother, who just shrugged, his own gaze focused on their father. 

Ragnar crouched down, bringing himself eye level with Kari instead of standing over her like he had done. “Kari, do you want to leave?” He asked softly. 

What kind of dumbass question was that? Ivar opened his mouth to intervene but a cutting look from Ragnar had him almost biting through his tongue to keep quiet. 

“Yes.” She rasped back. 

“Mmm…” Ragnar nodded. “I need you to look at me, yeah? Good girl. Will you be comfortable riding in a car after this?”

Kari tensed and Ivar wanted to bash his own head against the nearest wall. Of fucking course! Why had he not thought of that yet? 

“I–I don't know…I'm sorry.”

“No, Kari. Don't be sorry.” Ivar pressed his forehead to her uninjured temple. “We'll figure something out. It's not your fault.”

Ragnar spoke again, all soft edges and thoughtfulness. “Driving Ivar's car back would be the easiest and fastest. If you are uncomfortable with that, we can find an alternative mode of transportation or we can ask a nurse to mildly sedate you.”

With a tremor in her voice, she stated, “I can try. I think I can do it. Just…could you maybe drive slow?” 

Ivar smiled as he pressed a kiss to her temple, a silent encouragement, astounded by her quiet bravery. 

“I'm certain we can manage that.” Ragnar grunted, amusement in the quirk of his lips. “One last question.”

She nodded hesitantly. 

“I need to know, if while we are driving, will you start screaming?” 

This time she answered shakily. “No.”

“Do you recall why you were screaming at the accident?”

“Father.” Ivar growled, disliking this turn of questioning. 

“I need to know for our safety.” He returned his sharp gaze back to Kari, but did soften his voice.“Do you remember?”

“Memories.”

“Memories?” Ragnar repeated. 

She hummed. 

“Were you in a car accident recently?”

“No…”

“That's enough.” Ivar snarled, tugging her closer into his side, as her quivering began anew. Whether it was those memories or fear that caused her bodily reaction, he refused to let his father bully her into an answer. He had promised to protect her…even if it was from his father's interrogation. 

Icy blue eyes shifted from his youngest to the trembling, young woman in his arms before nodding and rising back to his feet. “I'll be back.” He swept out of the small room, the curtain fluttering closed behind him. 

“I'm sorry.” She whispered, just before pressing a hand to her mouth and releasing a shaky sob. 

Ivar held her close, sheltering her from her own turbulent emotions, as she tucked her face against him. Careful not to disturb her more, he wiped away the residue of tears from his cheeks with his right hand, mindful of his cast. 

At the feeling of being watched, he met his brother's eyes from across the small closet of a curtained room. His favorite brother had always been an open book, easy to read his emotions. Even now, the relief and concern for Kari was evident in his eyes. Without a word, he nodded slowly and deliberately toward the woman in his arms. Ivar nodded in reply. A silent conversation but Ivar knew what it meant. 

Whatever you need. I'll be there. 

Several minutes later, when Kari's quiet sobs transitioned to sniffles, a nurse arrived with a clipboard and release papers. She nervously asked the two men in the room to step outside so she could ask Kari some questions privately. Ivar's hackles immediately rose, a scathing retort on his tongue ready to unleash on the nurse but a squeeze of his hand made the words fade away. 

“I'm okay.” Those blue-green eyes held his, even though red rimmed and watery, he still thought they were one of his most favorite sights. “It'll only be a minute.”

“I'll be just on the other side of the curtain.” He promised, lifting her hand and pressing a kiss to her palm. “Call out if you need me, kattungen.”

The subtle blush that arose on her cheeks drew a wicked smile to his lips. Before he could swoop in and kiss her, making them both forget the outside world, Kari lightly pushed on his chest. 

“Go.”

“As my priestess commands.”

Her quiet laughter followed him out of the room, lightening his darkened heart like an eternal candle. Hvitserk closed the curtain behind them, taking up a position mirroring his own, standing guard in front of the room. 

Other patients and nurses moved about the long hallway, some staring at the two brothers, but they were mostly ignored, the chaos and mayhem of the emergency room taking precedence.  

Ivar closed his eyes, rubbing a hand along his forehead to try and encourage the brewing headache to fuck off. 

“How are you holding up?”

He did not even open his eyes as he heard his brother's question. The exhaustion he had been fighting, dulled by the adrenaline from the phone call and finding Kari, now hit him like a semi truck. At this rate, it was debatable if he would actually be able to fall asleep or his body would crash into a coma, forcing him to rest. He just needed to get Kari to his house. If he could get the two of them there, then they could both rest and recover….and he could beg for her to never leave him again. 

He released a long sigh. “I need a cigarette.” 

“Want to step out? I'll stay with Kari.”

For a second, he considered it but ultimately shook his head. “I'm not leaving her.”

“What's your plan now? Sounds like you offered for her to stay with us.”

“Yeah. That a fucking problem?”

Hvitserk nudged him with his elbow. “You know it's not. Just…make sure that is what SHE wants.”

“I know.” Ivar ran his hand over his head. “I need her close by. After this…I need to know she's okay.”

“Well, with the way she wouldn't let you go, I think the feeling is mutual.”

Ivar chuckled quietly, warmth flooding his entire body at the reminder. He thought that perhaps she had forgiven him and they could move forward after this. Whatever that looked like, he would take. As long as she was by his side, he did not care what title it held. He just needed her. She was his morning sunrise, the stars in his night sky. Without her, his world was dark and filled with pain and anger. 

A new set of footsteps coming down the hallway had the brothers looking up. At the face that came into view, Ivar's fatigue drained away again. Fury pulsated like a second heartbeat in his chest, shooting its tendrils throughout his body like a living organism. 

Without a second thought, his feet moved. 

The nurse walking with the man seemed to take note of Ivar first and her face paled. She halted, eyes darting around as if searching for help, for someone to intervene. It was only then her patient took notice. 

But it was too late. It was time to pass the man's sentence and in this case, Ivar was judge, jury and executioner. 

He stormed up to the man, with rage a phantom above him and vengeance nipping at his heels. “You stay the fuck away from Kari. This is your fucking fault she's here!”

“No, the other driver–” Erik tried to defend himself but Ivar was beyond caring about excuses. 

Ivar shoved him. Hard.

Erik stumbled back and fell on his ass, unable to fully stop his fall with his right arm in the sling. A pained hiss slipped from his lips as his body jolted at hitting the floor. 

“Sir, you can't–” the nurse tried to step in but Ivar pointedly ignored her, his full attention at the man sprawled at his feet. 

“I don't give a fuck! You stay the fuck away from her!” 

He took a step back, his eyes, cold as stone, stared the man down as if daring him to say anything. He could see the scattering of cuts on Erik's face and body, most likely from the airbag, the arm sling, and the wrap around his knee. None of it phased the Lothbrok. He did not give a flying fuck about him or his injuries. Under Erik's watch, Kari had gotten hurt. Something that would NEVER happen again. 

Satisfied he had gotten his point across, Ivar turned to head back to his brother when he heard the resentful mutter behind his back. 

“Psycho asshole.”

He could feel the insult sink in and flow through every part of his body. His concern had been for Kari, with keeping her safe. But now, with that one utterance…the idiot had made this personal. 

Before Erik blinked, Ivar had whipped around and grabbed him by the front of his t-shirt. He hauled him up roughly to stare into his face. The youngest Lothbrok reveled in the shock and fear that coated the blond's face. People always forgot that he spent a good portion of his life crawling around when his legs were unusable due to surgeries or pain, which built up his upper body strength. Even now, he still enjoyed working out his upper body, being as strong as possible, proving he was more than his useless legs. 

“You want to say that to my face, you little fucker?” He sneered. “Huh?”

“IVAR!”

At the shout of his name, he looked over his shoulder. Hvitserk stood beside Kari, the latter with a hand over her mouth and beseeching eyes wide. A few paces in front of them stood his father, the one who called his name, poised ready to intervene and yank his son away. 

Without remorse, Ivar roughly let go of Erik. “Stay away from her, or I won't be so nice next time.” With the threat looming above them, he turned and headed back to his family…

…Back to his kitten and hopefully away from this fucking awful place. 

“Kari, you don't have to go with him!” 

Ivar froze. Again. 

“I–I can drive you home. I'll be discharged soon if you'll just…wait.”

The entire hall waited with baited breath. Only the sounds of the machines beeping could be heard. 

Yet his whole world had narrowed down to Kari. His eyes zeroed in on her, waiting, watching, for a sign, a subtle hint, instruction on what to do next. Did he go to her? Or was she terrified of him once again? Should he turn around and rip that little fucker's spine out of his body? As these questions whirled about like a chaotic storm, his feet remained firmly planted. 

Until her. 

Like a sunbeam breaking through the darkest storm, that was his Kari. 

His light. His life. 

With his name on her lips but no sound uttered, she held out her hand for him. Those stunning eyes focused on him, calling, summoning, drawing him in. 

And like a moth to the flame, he followed. But instead of death being at the source of light for him, there was the brightest joy and affection, belonging and loyalty. 

He reached out, taking her hand as he got closer and drew her back to his side. He planted a brief kiss on the top of her head. “Let's go home, kattungen.” 

Neither Ivar nor Kari looked back at Erik. 

They followed Hvitserk and Ragnar out to Ivar's car. Ragnar drove with his son in the passenger seat, and Ivar and Kari in the back. Kari was still tucked in his side, head on his shoulder and holding hands. 

As the vehicle pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, her body began to subtly shake. Ivar tugged her onto his lap and began softly speaking, trying to soothe her in his native tongue. Like a child, she tucked her face into his neck as if to hide from the world. Her hand gripped his with a death grip, but he paid no mind, encouraging and comforting however he could. 

About halfway through the drive, Kari finally spoke, her trembling having subsided. “Why do you have a cast?” 

He glanced down at the damn thing laying across her thighs. “Broke my hand.”

“How?”

“Boxing.”

“Hmmm…did you win?” 

He snorted, glancing at her, meeting her face with a small smile. “I always win.”

“Uh huh. Sure you do.” She rasped out, her voice sounding a little stronger but still rough. 

“Are you teasing me right now?”

She mock-gasped. “No one would dare tease you.”

He squeezed the top of her knee, making her squirm and squeak. “And you remember that.”

The conversation died out; silence reigned for a while. Ivar rubbed his thumb on the back of her hand as he rested his head on top of hers with eyes closed. Exhaustion crept back in once again, tugging his eyelids shut and numbing his mind. All he wanted to do was crawl into his bed, with Kari joining him, and lock his bedroom door so no one could bother them for at least three days. Maybe a week. 

“Oh no!” Kari gasped, abruptly sitting upright. 

Her sudden startle, sent a shockwave through him. He bolted upright, mind racing. “What?”

“All my groceries. They were in the back of Erik's car. I don't– I don't have money to buy more.”

He chuckled, tugging her back to lean against him. He could not believe she would panic over such a small thing. “Don't worry about it. I've got it.” 

“But, that's not–”

“Kari,” he interrupted her, grabbing her chin and forcing her eyes to meet his. “I'll take care of it. Understand?”

“Yes.”

She answered correctly but he could see - could sense - her hesitation, that wavering confidence. Something he needed to alleviate.

He released her chin to tenderly caress her cheek before guiding her forehead to press against his. “I'll take care of you.” He repeated, hoping his words would sink into her mind and plant there, for he meant every one. “Whatever you need. Groceries. New clothes. A car. I'll get it, you just tell me. Okay?” 

“You don't have to. It's not–”

“I want to.” He interrupted. “I want to take care of you. Don't you understand. I…I failed you but that won't happen again. Please, kitten. Please, just let me do this.” 

Time paused as he waited for her reply, for her agreement, for a sign. Anything! Forehead still pressed to his, she slowly breathed. Panic might have crept in to discourage him if he had not been able to feel her hand playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. She was still so relaxed, so trusting, in his lap. He knew all he had to do was wait.

And so he waited for her. 

Like he promised he would. 

Finally, she quietly sighed out her response before slipping back against his chest and cuddling close. “Thank you, Ivar.”

A wave of gratitude and affection filled his soul. A dopey grin on his face, he tugged her closer and laid his head back on hers. 

“Anything for you, Kari.”

Tag List:

@southernbe @tessakate @ivarlover @nothingtolosebutweight @beautifulweaselplaidsalad @noway4u @cdauni @istorkyou @ringpopdust @lotr-got

[larabiatasstuff]

Hello @larabiatasstuff please could you write a story about the blonde general? I had a thought about him being cursed as a teenager, and turned into a beautiful golden dragon. Years later and now an adult, he hides in a cave and comes out only at night to eat the odd cow or sheep, but sometimes, he saw someone either robbing or hurting an iccocent person, and slayed them too. You are a skilled warrior who was asked amongst many other warriors, to find and slay this dragon. You were the only one who agreed to the terms and made your way to the lair of the dragon. But when you see the behaviour the dragon displays when he doesn't notice you, it means something isn't right. You approach him, and your first encounter isn't pleasant, but you try to assure him that you know something is wrong. He manages to somehow signal or carve a picture of what happend to him, and from then on you try to help him out of his curse. Thank you 💙

Omg I absolutely love your request anon 🖤 Of course I write that for you 🙏

It was a normal day in our lovely little village. My father and I just got back from hunting and prepared the meat and the skin when suddenly a rider approached us. "Good morning sir, I suppose you are the leader of this village?" the man said looking down on my father. "You're right well maybe not for long anymore cause my daughter here will take my place soon." the man on the horse raised an eyebrow. "The king sent me to talk to the most skilled fighter in his kingdom not some little girl." my father took a step towards the man, a serious expression on his face. "My daughter is the most skilled fighter here. I fought many battles and now I'm retired. Just because god gave us a daughter doesn't mean she can't fight like a man. I trained her well over the years so tell us why you're here or leave us to our work." I could tell that my father got angry." Well there is a dragon that terrorizes the kingdom. He feasts on the cattle and kills innocent people. The king calls out the bravest and strongest warriors to slay the dragon and bring proof that it's dead. "" How many warriors did you visit already? " I asked, feeling the nervousness of the rider." Umm... So you're the last on my list. " I nodded" And how many agreed on that quest? " " No one if I'm honest. Please my lady... " he started but I cut him off." First of all I'm not a lady and second what do I get when I slay the dragon? " " If you manage to kill the beast, the king will grand you a wish. " I looked at my father and smiled." I'll do it. Where was the dragon last seen?" the man on the horse gave me a paper with some informations on it." You have to travel the unholy lands my la... What was your name again? "" My name is Y/N, tell your king I'll ride at dawn. " the rider nodded, gave his horse the spurs and disappeared.

Part two 🖤

[thatmultifandomhoe]

Wish Upon a Star

Our childhoods began with the magic that was found within these movies. Whether it be Disney, Pixar, or Studio Ghibli, our love has not once wavered. We’ve grown, and dare we say that we’ve matured, but there’s still a special place in our hearts for our favorite movies.

Except, these movies now have a twist.

We are no longer kids.

Welcome to Wish Upon a Star, where your favorite childhood movie finally grew up.

Disclaimer: The following stories are a combination of SFW, NSFW, or a combination of both.

Wish Upon A Star is collaboration of works containing stories based on some of our favorite movies from Disney, Pixar, and Studio Ghibli.

Writers from both the BTS Fic Hub and BTS Smut Hub servers (founded by @gukyi​​) have come together to write stories for the month of January. While this event is not directly affiliated with these servers, please feel free to check them out!

Name of the Game by @ggukcangetit​​​​

Movie: Anastasia

Starring: Seokjin and Reader

Summary: The Hotel - Strange, The Manager - Far Too Charming, The Situation - Dire, The One in Trouble - You.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 9th.

Two Birds, One Cake: by @pajaritojin​​

Movie: Brave

Starring: Prince Seokjin and Witch Reader

Summary: After Seokjin fails to return his mother to her human state because Y/N gave him the wrong spell, he is forced to release the Queen into the wilderness whilst he tracks down Y/N.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 20th.

That Famous Happy Ending by: @jinpanman​​

Movie: Enchanted

Starring: Seokjin and Reader

Summary: You don't know what you expected when you followed the Prince to Andalasia... but of all things, you didn't expect to fall for him and his kingdom so quickly.

Rating: SFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 21st.

The Medallion Calls by: @pajaritojin​​

Movie: Pirates of the Caribbean

Starring: Captain Seokjin and Governor Reader

Summary: Upon Seokjin’s wash up to shore after months of being lost in a wrecked boat, the town is attacked by a crew of pirates. Kidnapping Governor Y/L/N Y/N, the crew of pirates flee — leaving her friends and Seokjin to rescue her and keep the town at peace.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 29th.

The End of the Fucking World (or: the Alpacalypse) by: @hauntedlilies​

Movie: The Emperor's New Groove

Starring: Seokjin and Reader

Summary: Over the past few years your life has been slowly falling apart. You didn't think it could get any worse — until your father comes home with a talking llama alpaca who claims he's the emperor of a lost civilization. But is he really who he says he is?

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 22nd.

The Ghosts of Daegu Town by: @cremeandsuga​​

Movie: Monsters Inc.

Starring: Ghost Yoongi and Phasmophobic Reader

Summary: For the last 18 years, Min Yoongi had been appointed Resident Ghoul for his Scare Ratings. He managed to scare the life out of everyone…except when your door came down before him.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 24th.

Second Star to the Right by: @thatlongspringnight​​

Movie: Peter Pan

Starring: Yoongi and Reader

Summary: Min Yoongi never believed in magic, but all it takes is a found shadow and one very frustrating girl to turn his world upside down. The real question remains: Will he keep that magic in his heart and choose to stay in Neverland, or will he abandon this magical world and the girl he's grown to love?

Rating: Combo

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 3rd.

Basil & Beliefs by: @cremeandsuga​​

Movie: Ratatouille

Starring: Sous Chef Yoongi and Heir Reader

Summary: When the long lost daughter of Gusteau reappears and gets hired at his restaurant, she is expected to stay quiet and stay out of the spotlight — but her and her server friend Seokjin can’t do anything to stay out of the eyes of the sous chef, Min Yoongi.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 14th.

A Restless Slumber by: @wwilloww​​

Movie: Sleeping Beauty

Starring: Yoongi and Reader

Summary: When one of you is always asleep, spending quality time together becomes easier to do in dreamworld.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 1st.

Coral Subconscious by: @hermosohoseok​​

Movie: Finding Nemo

Starring: Mermaid Hoseok and Mermaid Reader

Summary: When Y/L/N Y/N swims past Hoseok’s reef and saves his mother from the teeth of their terrorizing resident barracuda, he can’t help but feel indebted.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 15th.

Cactus by @hesperantha​​​

Movie: Fantasia

Starring: Hoseok and Reader

Summary: Meeting a stranger at the club turns into an adventure. Starring Mickey!Hoseok, featuring Yensid!Namjoon.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 2nd

Bare Necessities by: @hermosohoseok​​

Movie: Jungle book

Starring: Bear Aspect Hoseok and Adult Mowgli Reader

Summary: After Y/N’s life is threatened by resident Tiger Aspects Yoongi and Taehyung, Y/N is forced to vacate the jungle and leave behind her friends. Along the way, she finds the bear that saved her as a baby.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 27th.

Smutocchio by @jinpanman​​

Movie: Pinocchio

Starring: Hoseok and Reader

Summary: You didn’t mean to fall for the growing dick man.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 13th.

A little less than 101 Meetings to fall in love: by @thatlongspringnight​​

Movie: 101 Dalmatians

Starring: Namjoon and Reader

Summary: Kim Namjoon has seen enough of the world to know two thing, dogs always look like their owners, and he's going to be perennially single. A chance meeting at the park changes at least one of those ideas forever.

Rating: Combo

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 10th.

The Aftermath: by @queridonamjoon​​

Movie: Big Hero 6

Starring: Engineer Namjoon and Friend Version Tadashi Reader

Summary: After Y/N dies in an attempt to save Namjoon, his dreams are nothing more than memories of her and their adventures together — so he builds Y/N prototypes for every scenario, in which he will always be able to save her.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 26th.

One Cube At A Time: by @queridonamjoon​​

Movie: Wall-E

Starring: Cyborg Namjoon and Cyborg Reader

Summary: Namjoon is the only functioning being left on planet Earth — imagine his surprise when he is made aware of a completely different world just a few galaxies away.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 11th.

Otherworldly Lovin’ by @thatmultifandomhoe​​

Movie: Flubber

Starring: Alien Taehyung and Human Reader

Summary: Not only did he crash land into you yard, but he also crashed right into your heart...among other places.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 6th.

In The Doghouse: by @mariposatae​​

Movie: Lady & the Tramp

Starring: Dog Hybrid Taehyung and Dog Hybrid Reader

Summary: After Y/N finds herself in some hot water with Jungkook and her housemates, she must trust from afar as they find a mate for her in a serial monogamist with a knack for knocking up.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 25th.

Bad Stitch 2.0: by @jinpanman​​

Movie: Lilo and Stitch

Starring: Taehyung and Reader

Summary: You and Taehyung finally get the house to yourselves and you’re not going to let it go to waste.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 5th.

Blood from The Emperor: by @mariposatae​​

Movie: Mulan

Starring: Solider Taehyung and Solider/Princess Reader.

Summary: Y/L/N Y/N is the only daughter to The Emperor, and when she escapes her luxurious life in the palace to join the military, Kim Taehyung is the one to discover her.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 12th.

Had it Been Another Day by @ggukcangetit​​

Movie: The Princess and the Frog

Starring: Taehyung and Reader

Summary: When the universe hated you enough to pair you with the most obnoxious guy in your class, for a project that would decide your future but had no such implications for him.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 16th

Fairy Wings: by @ezralia-writes​​

Movie: Tinkerbell

Starring: Taehyung and Reader

Summary: "You should have never crossed the border," he choked out, "I should've known better to stop this before it even began."

Rating: SFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 30th.

Unholy Lightning: by @sunnydelightjimin​​

Movie: How to Train Your Dragon

Starring: Lightfury Hybrid Jimin and Nightfury Hybrid Reader

Summary: Y/L/N Y/N was taught to soar in the clearest of skies and attack in the deadliest situations — crazy how she has a tendency to flip those in her mind.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 17th.

Chasing Waves by @magicalcrwn​​

Movie: The Little Mermaid

Starring: Jimin and Reader

Summary: From a young age, their curiosity grows stronger. For the human princess who has always been interested in the ocean’s secrets, for the merprince who has always been interested in the surface’s life. What would happen once they finally chase the waves to sate their curiosity?

Rating: SFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 18th.

Lava In The Afternoon: by @sunnydelightjimin​​

Movie: The Incredibles

Starring: Immortal Superhero Jimin and Immortal Villain Reader

Summary: Y/L/N Y/N has terrorized the City of Seoul for generations alongside her friends — and Jimin has been tired of fighting her time and time again.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 28th.

The First Snow: by @carinojungkook​​

Movie: Bambi

Starring: Rabbit Aspect Jungkook and Deer Aspect Reader

Summary: When the daughter of The Great Prince is presented before the forest on the day of the First Snow, Jungkook finds himself enamored with the doe eyes filled with fire.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 19th.

The Fourth Unforgivable by @ggukcangetit​​

Movie: The Lion King

Starring: Jungkook and Reader

Summary: Seven years is a long time. Enough to bring about many changes - new laws, dangerous associations, and the return of the one you had forced yourself to forget.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 23rd

Moves Like An Ape, Looks Like a Man by @carinojungkook​​​

Movie: Tarzan

Starring: Tarzan Jungkook, and Animal Researcher Reader,

Summary: When animal researcher best friends Y/L/N Y/N and Kim Namjoon are sent on an expedition to gather information on the gorillas of West Africa, they aren’t expecting anything but — and yet, are met with none other than Jeon Jungkook.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 8th.

Abstract Thought: by @milktbaby​​

Movie: Inside Out

Starring: Emotion OT7 and Student Reader

Summary: When Y/L/N Y/N is leaving her hometown of Busan for university, she is faced with a series of unexpected events that make her realize she’s not where she needs to be.

Rating: NSFW

Being Released to a Theater Near You: January 31st.

You’re never too old to find yourself wishing upon a star.

[zozophoenixxx]

Serotonin Booster :D🐉

How to train your dragon edition

Here are some things I had forgotten or little details I just noticed on my rewatch, maybe even Unpopular Opinions 🤭👀

✨Defenders of Berk✨

Not Astrid being pissed bc Fishlegs called her mean lmaooo

OMGGG "I would never call my father ridiculous. I'm calling my chief ridiculous" THE POWER OF THIS SCENE

The way Toothless just sat to look at the sunset.. Me too bby me too 🥺

Toothless and Thornado's shots combined was amazing!

"The first rule about the dragon flight club is that there is no dragon flight club"

Istg Meatlug and Fishlegs are made for each other

Baby whispering deaths!

OMG THEY JUST CAME UP WITH GRONCKLE IRON

I love seeing the origin of things ☺️

Wowww I just realized that Gobber has a unibrow

Sandstone makes glass

That shiny black rock makes another shiny black Rock, it also has Meatlug boiling

WOW a combination of multiple rock makes Meatlug a magnet

The way Hookfang pays more attention to Fishlegs than Snotlout is funny

Fishlegs on Toothless!!!!

"TOO MUCH FURY, TOO MUCH FURY!" JAHDHDHAH

Awwww love how Fishlegs feels happy abt being needed

DAGUR'S BACK AHH

I never understood why Dagur called Hiccup his brother but it's kinda funny

Young hiccup actually fighting is pretty badass and that shield 🥴

The way they were all trying to get Gobber to shower lmaooo

Gobber saved Gustav's life and Fishleg saved Astrid's

Am I the only one that finds the whispering deaths kinda funny, like yes they're scary but these mfs have tiny wings, a big ass head, are covered in spines and can't see like-

Newly hatched whispering deaths can be more deadly that adults bc they can't control their jaws or spines

WOW WOW WOWWWW A WHITE WHISPERING DEATH - Titanwing whispering death with red eyes OMG NO NO THIS IS THE SCREAMING DEATH I KNEW IT ‼️‼️

Wow but the pain in Snotlout's eyes 🥺

Monstrous nightmares are stoker-class dragons

Fireworms get brighter the closer they get to each other

Ohhhhh now I get the history behind Hookfang and the fireworms queen's connection

"You're not just another sword, Hookfang"

Awww the fireworm queen saved Hookfang, I ship them now JSHDHSHS

BABY ASTRID!! 🥺🥺🥺 AWWW

Flightmare - follows the glowing algae caused by Aurvandil's fire, sprays a paralyzing mist to those who it considers a threat to its survival

Aurvandil's fire = Aurora Borealis

YES ASTRID BEAT SNOTLOUT UP

Hiccup: Well, you know, Astrid, uh, training dragons isn't the only thing I think about.

Astrid: Are you actually saying that to me with a straight face?

JAHSHAHAJAJ I SWEAR I LOVE THESE TWO the way both of them said these lines I can't ✋🏼😂

The way she said the exact same thing as her uncle and even took on the name I-

I have this headcanon that bc I'm pretty sure Astrid's parents were barely mentioned in the shows or movies that her uncle was the person that was there for her the most which is another reason why it upset her to see people making fun of him

Why does whenever Astrid gets shot by a dragon she always tries to hit it off like her axe is a baseball bat? 😂

Hiccup saving Astrid in the flightmare ep🥺🥺🥺🥺

GLOWY TOOTHLESS AND GLOWY STORMFLY AND GLOWY MEATLUG ARE ADORABLE

Awww I love how Hiccup makes sure to mention the fact that "Fearless Fin Hofferson was indeed fearless, just like all the Hoffersons" 🥺🥺🥺 STOP AND THEN SHE SMILES AND HE PROCEEDS TO PUT HIS HAND ON HER SHOULDER I-🥴🥴🥴

I love how they're always interrupted whenever they're about to say a bad word

Lil terrible terrors are adorable 🥺

The fact that what they were trained for was actually useful it's crazy

Astrid: "no one is kissing me on the lips ever!!" HHSHAHAH ASTRID WHY U LYING

I feel like we don't appreciate how smart Hiccup actually is, and I don't mean that dragon-wise or building stuff-wise I mean in general. I'm in ep9 and they're finding old dragon traps to get rid of them and there was a lil breeze and he was like "there's a dry hot wind coming in from the north. It hasn't rained in 2 months. This is definitely fire weather." like how- am I the only one that would've been like okok a nice warm breeze 😩

Dude the typhoomerangs are so scary and huge wtf

I KNEW HE WAS TORCH

Torch actually built a lil relationship with Tuff just for that but of time I love it

WE'RE FINALLY GONNA SEE THE SKRILL!! I love it it's one of my favorite dragons :D

I never understood why fishlegs says his name when he's excited

Skrills - The skrill was first found frozen, it's the symbol of the Berserkers, it can stay safely frozen for decades because of their internal body temperature, can't redirect any lightning if it's in the water 😳

Y'all the skrill and the nightfury have gotta be related somehow, they're probably like cousins or sum. I mean the night fury is the "unholy offspring of lighting and death" and the skrill can control lightning AND TECHNICALLY TOOTHLESS CAN TOO REMEMBER HTTYD 3 + they also have similar physical characteristics at least Imo.

Dude this dragon is so badass 😌🤩🥰😩🥴❣️🤍🤝 I'm literally so obsessed

Wow one of the first times I see the twins actually doing sum useful

The way the shots combine🥴

Dagur has misophonia - condition where people experience intense negative emotions for sounds such as eating, chewing, loud breathing or even repeated pen-clicking [ep11]

Oh wow so they originally trapped the skrill in this show i didn't know

Wait but baby Gustav is actually adorable wtf and the fact that he and Snotlout have matching Viking hats

OMG SEE NOW I'M SEEING GUSTAV'S ORIGIN WITH HIS DRAGON AND HIS DESIRE TO BECOME A RIDER

Fanghook🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Ruff puts fish oil on her hair to get "a greasy unwashed look"

Really hate when Snotlout doesn't accept no for an answer

THE HAND THING AHHHH I LOVE IT this time is Ruff and a scauldron

Ok guys so I did this with mi friend's puppy who I accidentally scared enough to make him piss himself and I'm pretty sure I traumatized him and now when I'm around the poor dog tries to get as far away from me as possible but one day we were kinda bonding although he still wouldn't let me pet it AND I DID THE HAND THING BECAUSE WHY NOT AND THIS LIL MF ACTUALLY PUTS HIS FACE IN MY HAND- I screamed and he left again🥺😂 BUT IT DID WORK

Scauldy🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥰😌☺️🤩🤍

Ok but ruffnut with short hair 🤩

Speedstingers

Also the way Astrid ran up to Hiccup in the ep14

Wait but the scene whenever they're fighting the Speedstingers and Fishlegs says they're too fast but Hiccup's like "not for a nightfury" and then they show Toothless dodging the Speedstinger's attack AND THEN THEY SHOW HICCUP PROTECTING HIMSELF WITH HIS SHIELD WHICH GETS THROWN AWAY BUT RIGHT THERE TOOTHLESS CATCHES IT AND THROWS IT BACK TO HICCUP who's like "Thanks bud" 🤩🤩🤩 literally so badass go watch it!! It's ep14 frozen min 17:40

I really liked the relationship Snotlout and Astrid created with each other's dragon 🥺

HOOKFANG'S WINGBLAST AND STORMFLY'S SINGLE-SPINESHOT ARE HELLA BADASS... I love how they worked together this time 🥺

DUDE JAHDHSJAJJJSA ppl really underestimate Ruff's cleverness, this bish really gets Tuff to do the dumbest things just to enjoy looking at him hurting himself JAHDHSJAH😂

TOOTHLESS REALLY JUST BIT AN EEL'S HEAD OFF TO SAVE HICCUP🥺

Baby toothless is high🥺

"Uh, okay. That one was a little close to the one good leg" JAHDHAHSHA ISTG I LOVE THIS DUDE

Johan hates Snotlout for breaking his stuff

Tuff got Macey the Mace from Trader Johan

Astrid looks hot without her shoulder pads

Ok but Dagur looks so weird without his viking hat in this show

The baby thunderdrums are adorable - BING BAM AND BOOM

NOOO STOICK JUST LEFT THORNADO 🥺

OHHH SO ALVIN WAS ACTUALLY FROM BERK and he was Stoick's best friend

Snotlout and Hiccup are parallels of Alvin and Stoick

Ok but that trick Snotlout did was amazing, he really had Hookfang do a lil typhoomerangs move and then the wingblast🤩

I FINISHED IT OMG NOW ONTO RTTE!!

[mearcatsreturns]

/whispers/ So maybe I now have to ask for Ivan and the No Good Terrible Very Bad Day Attempting to Babysit a Grisha Child Who Can Summon Light and Shadow. How could this possibly go wrong.

Once again, this got long, so here's the first chapter of A Day in the Life of Ivan, Or: Ivan’s Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.

The worst day of Ivan’s life begins years before the fateful day itself, if that’s possible. He’s grateful not to know the precise day, but he knows who—or what, rather—is to blame.

It’s the damn heterosexuals. They just won’t stop fucking, and they’ve made it everyone else’s problem now.

The heterosexuals in question are, of course, Kirigan and Alina, or as they’re known now, the Tsar and Tsarina.

&&&

About three years before the Worst Day™, Ivan is minding his own business, just trying to find some decent food after returning from a mission to the northern border. It wasn’t a bad trip; Fedyor had been with him and they’d enjoyed the opportunity to spend some time together outside the political games of Os Alta.

Nevertheless, Ivan is eager to eat some food that isn’t dried and to sleep in his own comfortable bed. He’s already debriefed with the Tsar and bathed, so he’s delighted to find it’s time for dinner. It’s to be a small group tonight, just the king and queen, Nikolai, Zoya, Tamar, Nadia, Fedyor and him. He can tolerate them all (except Fedyor, who of course is the light of his life), though Alina remains permanently on thin ice. She makes the Darkling light and happy, and it’s just unnatural.

They settle around the table and fall into comfortable conversation. Tolya is on an assignment and intends to travel to Kerch after this. Tamar and Nadia are beginning to formalize their union and are looking for a house. If their bickering and the obscene looks Zoya and Nikolai are giving each other are any indication, Ivan expects some kind of announcement from them any day. The Tsar intends to invite some dignitaries from Novyi Zem to the palace in a few weeks.

And Tsaritsa Alina is pale and...unwell. She looks queasy, and Ivan feels a moment of alarm. Grisha can’t get sick, not unless they don’t use their powers. Given that Alina is the Sol Koroleva, the renowned Sun Summoner, that seems unlikely. Few things lead to such ill appearances. Maybe some kind of poison? If she or her food are being poisoned, they need to know as soon as possible.

Ivan does his usual first step; he counts the heartbeats, checking their speeds. One, two, three, four, everyone is normal, five, six, seven, eight, nine...ah, the ninth is faint and fast.

Wait. Nine? There are only eight of them here at dinner, and the attendants have long since departed.

It hits Ivan like a lightning bolt, and he gasps aloud in shock and horror. The most reasonable explanation for the extra heartbeat and Alina’s ill looks is—oh, saints protect them all—a baby.

Everyone turns to look at him, as though he is the one who’s done something strange and dangerous.

Ivan gapes at Alina and points a finger accusingly, “You’re pregnant! With a baby!”

Beside him, Fedyor closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a sigh. Tamar and Nadia exchange a knowing, amused look, though they manage not to laugh. Zoya raises one shapely eyebrow.

Nikolai grins. “One generally is pregnant with babies, as opposed to anything else. Except perhaps with genius ideas, in my case and David’s. Alina, moi tsar, congratulations to you both.”

Alina glares at Ivan. What? He’s not the unholy saint about to unleash terror onto the earth from their womb.

Once he glances at Kirigan, though, Ivan stills. The Tsar is ashen and looks as though someone has dropped an iron on his head, or told him that his beloved horse is Grisha too.

“Aleksander, I wasn’t sure. I was waiting until I was to tell you,” Alina says, one hand on her husband’s forearm. “Are...are you all right?”

The Tsar opens his mouth, but no sounds come out.

Tamar and Nadia stand, hand-in-hand. “We, ah, think we’ll take our leave now. Thank you for a lovely dinner, Sol Koroleva, my King,” Tamar says, and she and her fiancée flee.

Zoya clears her throat and gives Nikolai a look that is very different from the hungry one Ivan so despises on faces that aren’t Fedyor’s.

With a nod at her, Nikolai stands and helps her to her feet. “Indeed. Your hospitality is, as always, boundless, though I can’t help but feel we’re trespassing on it every second we linger here. Erm, do let me know when I can get you a gift.”

“Congratulations,” Zoya says, and to Ivan’s disgust, she actually sounds sincere. He watches as she and Nikolia leave, one of the Lantsov pup’s hands at the small of her waist. One would think the heterosexuals would have learned from this evening that touching each other is dangerous, but apparently some of them are just utter fools.

Fedyor elbows him, and Ivan turns to scowl at his beloved. “Wha—”

A point of his head in the direction of the Tsar and Tsaritsa quiets Ivan.

Alina is kneeling beside her husband’s chair, stroking his arm. Aleksander Kirigan, King of Ravka, Shadow Summoner, the Black General, sits still as a statue, eyes wide with shock.

“We’ll head out now too,” Fedyor says.

Ivan nods, grabbing Fedya’s arm and hauling him from the room. Over his shoulder, Ivan yells, “Good luck!”

Fedyor smacks him, whispering furiously as they close the door behind them. “‘Good luck’?! You’re supposed to say ‘congratulations,’ or ‘have a nice evening,’ you utter troll.”

“I’m a troll now? See if I give you a massage when we get back to our rooms,” Ivan grouses. He pulls Fedyor along, pulling him away from where he seemed inclined to linger by the door. Eavesdropping, pah. He can’t believe he’s married to such a busybody.

Who would want to stay to hear whatever nonsense the Darkling and his wife are about to say or do? He’s had enough of that for one lifetime, thank you very much.

Ivan shudders. The two most powerful Grisha on the planet, one a sun summoner and the other a shadow summoner, having a baby? The world is definitely doomed.

&&&

The next day, Ivan receives a summons to go see the Tsar. Dread churns in his stomach, and he rubs his eyes. He hadn’t slept well, especially after he and Fedyor had a tiff about “inappropriate behavior and outbursts.” And now he’s to see his boss, probably about said outburst the previous night.

He accompanies Anton, the young oprichnik to the Tsar’s quarters, and the boy brightens with excitement to be talking to one of the Tsar’s most favored Grisha. “Thank you, Andrei. I’ll make my way from here.” The boy’s face falls, but Ivan dismisses him with a nod. If the oprichniki got any more friendly, they’d start calling him Vanya without his permission. Appalling.

Ivan takes a deep breath, then knocks at the door. He’s long since learned the value of knocking after Alina and the General got together, especially now that they share their quarters. Unfortunately, no healer has yet to find something to wipe certain sights from his brain.

“Come in,” Kirigan’s faint, disembodied voice commands.

Ivan lets himself into the room, waiting while the Tsar steps around the corner from the bedroom he shares with his queen.

“Good morning, Ivan.”

“Good morning, moi soverennyi. I hope you rested well,” Ivan replies, tone funereal. Saints, he prays he’s not about to be sent to Tsibeya permanently. He runs his hand under his collar, annoyed to find he’s actually sweating.

Kirigan’s face gives nothing away. “I did, thank you. The Tsaritsa is with Genya and one of the healers.”

“And she...she is well?” Ivan gulps.

“Yes. She was apparently a bit surprised last night herself, as she’d only just begun to suspect she might be pregnant.”

As much as Ivan hates when the Tsar’s feelings show—it’s usually him making soppy, annoying faces at Alina—he wishes Aleksander would just say what’s on his mind.

“My apologies, sir, I was also surprised. She seemed unwell, and I wanted to make sure she wasn’t, say, being poisoned.”

“You thought someone might be poisoning my wife?” Kirigan is incredulous.

“Things have been very calm with Fjerda lately. I don’t trust it.”

The General mutters under his breath, something about not trusting anything.

Ivan waits. Finally, Kirigan breaks the not-so-silent silence. “Well, thank you for your concern. And, ah, the surprising news.”

“You’re most welcome,” he replies gloomily.

“You don’t seem thrilled.”

“Forgive me, moi tsar, but I don’t see a need for excitement at a natural result of your conjugal activities. Sir.”

Oh, saints, is Kirigan frowning at him? Ivan mentally starts packing his belongings when the frown becomes a smile and then a laugh.

Perhaps Aleksander still isn’t quite recovered from the shock of his impending fatherhood.

He’s not paying attention to Ivan anyway. Kirigan makes his way to the table, shuffling the papers there unseeingly. “I didn’t think it was possible, you know.”

“I did not.” And Ivan would like to keep it that way.

Alas, Aleksander seems inclined to continue talking. “In all my long life, longer than you know, I’ve never fathered a child.”

Ivan grimaces. The world is probably grateful, though now it has much to fear. “It would have been challenging to have had a child during the wars, sir.”

Kirigan waves this aside, and unfortunately continues speaking. “Still, for it to happen with Alina...I’m so thrilled, Ivan.”

“And I am...happy for you, General.” Make it stop. Ivan is queasy.

“Of course, it’s probably for the best that it didn’t happen when Alina and I first got together, especially now that I know how possible that was.”

Ivan wants to cover his ears and sing “la la la la la,” but the implications of what his boss is saying finally sink in, and his horror at this whole situation increases exponentially. “Wait. Do you mean to say you weren’t using, ah, preventative measures?”

Kirigan’s face grows sheepish. “Until my conversation with Alina last night after you all departed, I wasn’t aware there was such a thing. In my day, one simply planned around the time of the month or withdrew from—”

“I beg you to stop talking. Moi soverennyi,” Ivan adds as an afterthought.

The Tsar falls silent, and Ivan sighs with relief.

But something bothers him. “Did you not get any sort of talk about how to prevent pregnancy when you were training? Even I did when I was young, before everyone knew I wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

“Like I said, there weren’t those kinds of options when I was young, as far as I know,” Kirigan says with a shrug.

Ivan begins to realize that his boss is, in fact, much older than he thought. That explains the herring and rye, too. He hesitates before venturing to speak. “Do...was Alina—the queen, that is, did she explain the different kinds of birth control, or…?”

“Well, I can’t get her more pregnant, Ivan.”

It’s too horrible to even contemplate, and Ivan shudders.

Kirigan laughs and slaps his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to give me The Talk. Alina was so upset I didn’t know that she told me everything last night.”

Ivan’s lips twist in dismay at Aleksander’s rapturous expression that indicates there was a demonstration of some practical applications. Ugh. “Small mercies.”

“Well, hopefully you’ll consider this next a mercy: I want you and Fedyor to stay close through Alina’s pregnancy, especially once word gets out.”

Staying in Os Alta won’t be so bad, but the idea of dancing attendance on Alina, all while some parasite hijacks and distorts her body...well, hopefully he’ll get a good field assignment once this pregnancy is over. “Of course, moi tsar. And when will it end? I mean, ah, when is the blessed event?”

“In seven and a half months or so, perhaps eight. She’s about five or six weeks along, the healer says. And that, well…” Kirigan smiles at what is clearly the memory of this child’s conception.

Ivan fervently wracks his brain, desperate to keep his boss from offering more information that will give him nightmares about heterosexual intercourse. “And is there any way of knowing whether the babe will be a shadow summoner or sun summoner? Or both?”

A stricken look comes over Kirigan’s face. “Both?” He clearly hasn’t considered this possibility yet. “But that…” He doesn’t continue, instead going to fall into his chair and stare into distance.

It’s going to be a long few months.

&&&

It’s roughly eight months after that when Ivan is rudely pulled from sleep by Genya bursting into his and Fedyor’s room like she has the right.

It’s obscenely early in the morning, Ivan is, as is his usual habit, sleeping on his side facing the window. Fedyor, as is his usual custom, sleeps with his arm slung over Ivan’s waist and his head buried between his shoulder blades. It’s very soothing, normally.

Not today, though. The door opens with a bang, and Genya yells, “It’s time! She’s here!”

Ivan, suddenly wide awake, goes to jump out of bed. Instead, he finds that Genya has slowed their heart rates enough that hurrying is impossible. He glares at her. “What the fuck are you doing in our room? Who is here?”

“The baby is here. The tsarevna.”

“It’s a girl?” Fedyor asks with a smile.

Genya grins back. “Yes. She’s adorable.”

Ivan does not smile. “I’m glad she’s arrived. But why are you here in our bedroom at—” he glances at the clock and continues, “4:52 in the morning?”

“Everyone is going to see here. You’re the Tsar’s right-hand man, Ivan, so they’ll be expecting you.”

“Well, Genya, darling, you’ll have to let our hearts do their normal thing if you want us to do that,” Fedyor adds.

She shakes her head and drops her hand. “Of course. Sorry. See you there in fifteen minutes, and please be wearing pants. And shirts.”

Ivan grumbles, but gets out of bed. It’s difficult to want to leave when Fedyor is looking over him like that, but Kirigan probably will be upset if they don’t come to fawn over his spawn in what he deems a reasonable amount of time.

He and Fedyor make their way down the halls of the palace to Aleksander’s and Alina’s private apartment. The door is open, but Ivan nods at the guards and knocks anyway before stepping inside, Fedyor on his heels. He walks back to the bedroom, where he can hear hushed, happy conversations.

Alina is lying on the bed. She looks sweaty and disgusting, but in a radiant and maternal way that the Tsar seems to find beautiful, since he can’t look away from her. Typical, and exactly what got them into this mess.

The mess in question is wrapped in a blanket in her mother’s arms. Ivan glances at the small bundle, which seems to be sleeping. It is certainly very red.

Kirigan sits in a chair beside the bed, as close to it and his wife and new daughter as he can. He’s resting one hand on Alina’s shoulder, while the other trails along his daughter’s tiny head.

“The tsarevna is lovely,” Fedyor says, smiling down at the family.

Ivan thinks that’s a bit of a stretch, but he nods. “She looks like a baby. A healthy one.”

Fedyor elbows him, but Alina just rolls her eyes. “Thank you, I think.”

“She’s beautiful,” Aleksander says firmly, his face still disturbingly dreamy. “We’ve decided to call her Anastasia.”

Nastia. That seems about right.

Just then, the wee girl stirs and starts to wail. As her cries grow louder and Alina shifts to be able to feed her, shadows creep into the room. Then through the darkness, Ivan sees little flashes of light coming from the baby.

Fuck. This tiny child can summon shadows and light.

Nasty little Nastia indeed.

[justdalek]

Yuuuh Creek fic!

Content warning for self hatred

Yes, there's angst cuz Dalek can't stop herself whoops

This fic is shorter than what I usually write cuz I'm still making sure that I keep these two in character so my bad if this first fic is kinda out of character lol

“… God damn it.”

Craig Tucker was staring at his reflection in the mirror, his monotonous face slightly irked. He gripped the comb in his hand tightly.

“Can’t believe I’m balding this fast… fuck.”

Craig was only thirty-three, but the area around the top of his head was losing more and more hair by the day. His coworkers at NASA were already joking that Craig was going to look like a stereotypical father and he didn’t even have kids at all. And yes, Tweek sometimes waking up at unholy hours in the middle of the night due to night terrors might contribute to Craig losing his hair (he worries for his husband contrary to popular belief), but something else much deeper disturbed Craig.

“... Maybe I should just go bald.”

If it was one thing that haunts Craig, it’s him turning into his father, Thomas Tucker. His father was very abrasive, a cheater, and threatens violence on a daily basis. Of course, Craig’s balding pattern happened to be the exact same as his father’s, which made his hand ball into a fist and-

“Craig?”

Craig snapped out of his thoughts and froze. His hand was in a fist, reared back, and aimed at punching the mirror. His eyes snapped to another part of the mirror that showed the doorway where Tweek Tweak was standing, looking nervous while holding two cups of coffee. Craig swiftly put his fist in his lap and turned around in his chair.

“Hey there, honey,” Craig’s face remained rather monotonous, but his eyes were, for the first time in perhaps ever, terrified.

“C-Craig? Errr… are you ok?” Tweek’s hands were shaking a little.

“Yeah, of course I’m fine,” Craig tried to move from his seat to no avail.

“U-umm… I b-brought coffee…” Tweek moved a few steps into their bedroom.

“Uh huh, I see that,” Tweek moved a few steps further.

“A-are you sure you’re alright?” Tweek was now right in front of Craig.

“I…” Craig‘s mouth moved, but nothing was coming out. Tweek set the cups of coffee down on the dresser and put his hand lightly on Craig’s balled up fist.

“I-I know that y-you’ve been pretty tired l-lately…. I dunno what the mirror did to you, b-but I don’t want to drive you to the hospital for getting into a f-fight with the mirror,” Tweek laughed a little, trying to defuse whatever was going on. Craig tightened his fist, then finally got up and pulled Tweek into a bear hug.

“Thank you, Tweek…”

Tweek froze up, a normal reaction to unexpected hugs, but he hugged back.

“O-of course, Craig.”

[rax-writes]

Enchanted - Part II

Fandom:  The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina Pairing:  Caliban x Reader Warnings:  Violence, death + resurrection Notes:  Part I ♥ Here’s part two! Hope you all like it!

Your relationship with Caliban did not remain a secret for long. Your sister was the first to know.

As you jogged over to her at the carnival the following weekend, you said, “Sister, I have good news and bad news. The good news is that I know how the Plague Kings’ plan to overthrow you. They’ll be keeping an eye on you for any missteps, and once given probable cause, they will force you and Caliban to embark on a quest to retrieve the Unholy Regalia.”

She was visibly stunned, and understandably so. “That’s great! But how did you find all that out?”

“That would be the bad news.”

As if on cue, Caliban then materialized, and wrapped an arm around your waist – which was immediately noticed by Sabrina.

“What did you rope my sister into?” she snarled at Caliban, but you held up a hand to silence them both before the bickering began.

“Caliban came to me and stated that he wished to court me. I first tried to convince him to end the coup in exchange for courtship, but he explained that even if he wanted to, he is unable to stop the Kings. So, instead, the exchange became useful information for courtship.”

“Mhmm,” Sabrina mused disbelievingly, glaring at the man at your side. “And for how long does she have to date you?”

“The only requirement to fulfill our agreement is a single date, hence our presence at this mortal affair,” Caliban answered, then smiled warmly at you. “After that, the status of our courtship is up to my lady.”

“Oh. Well, that’s not so bad,” Sabrina muttered, then shrugged as she turned to you. “At least you can get this night over with and never have to see him again.”

“In all honesty… I am not entirely opposed to seeing him again,” you admitted hesitantly, and Sabrina’s jaw dropped slightly as her brows furrowed in agitation. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Sister. For Satan’s sake, have you seen him? He’s more than a little easy on the eyes.”

Caliban chuckled, both at your compliment and your sister’s obvious annoyance. “Come, little dove. Let us explore this fanciful event.”

Though the evening had been a delight, and you enjoyed your time with your date, you couldn’t help but notice that Caliban seemed slightly on edge all night. After the sun had gone down, and you’d surveyed the majority of the carnival, Caliban requested to take you to dinner in a nice restaurant. You agreed, and he thoroughly surprised you by taking you to a quiet, romantic rooftop restaurant in Italy, having remembered you stating that Italian was your favorite food. It was the following morning before you realized that he’d been sensing the impending danger of Herod’s attack. Coincidentally, he had disappeared for a short while during dinner, and although he’d claimed to have gone to the restroom, you learned from Sabrina the following morning that he’d actually returned to Greendale to collect King Herod's crown.

Naturally, the two of you had bickered about him cheating your sister the next time you were together, but his soft lips and skilled hands had done wonders to dissipate your anger. Although you refused to admit it, you were positively hooked from thereon out.

You told yourself that you continued the dates and the trysts simply because it was merely an enjoyable pastime. But in truth, it was because you were slowly falling for the prince. Knowing it was a mistake due to his allegiance to Hell, and his position as the enemy of your sister, created a forbidden nature to the romance, and it only made you crave him more.

Little did you know, Caliban felt the same for you. Your smile set his soul aflame, and your laughter made his chest tighten with affection. The sight of your hair fanned across your pillow, mouth slightly agape in pleasure, was not one he would ever grow tired of. He had fallen well and truly in love with you.

This information was kept secret from one another, because both of you were scared to admit such a thing and risk scaring the other away.

It wasn’t long after your mutual realizations that he met your aunts and Ambrose. Although they were all pleased to have met the object of your affection, and they remained civil with him, it was evident that each member of your family distrusted him, and questioned his intentions with you.

Their distrust turned out to be short-lived.

Immediately following your coven’s Hare Moon celebration, one of the Pagans had developed a very intense dislike for you. All it took was for her to sense that you were a very powerful member of your kind – that is, until your powers faded – and she, being a harpy, notorious for their insatiable hunger and lust for torture, had decided that she would feast upon your witch flesh as her next meal.

It was that evening when she appeared. You had been relaxing on the front porch of the Spellman Mortuary, and at first, you thought she was merely a mortal woman – then her wings spread out from behind her as her glamour faded, bird-like legs sprouted from her torso, and her face became hideous, decayed and rotting. You had instinctively tried to run, but it was futile. After all, harpies were originally thought to be the personification of wind, so it was unsurprising that you were in her clutches before you even made it to the door.

The harpy’s sharp talons dug into your shoulders, and you screamed for help as she launched you into the yard. You fell flat on your back, which knocked the wind out of you, and she was on you again in the blink of an eye. As you felt the most impossibly intense, agonizing pain across your abdomen, you screamed again as you glanced down and realized she had torn you open. She began feasting on your flesh and organs, blood dripping from her claws as she ravaged you.

You were vaguely aware of a horrified scream from Sabrina somewhere behind you. She had just swung open the front door of the Spellman household to see the ghastly scene before her, Aunt Zelda, Aunt Hilda, and Ambrose right behind her. With a roar of pure rage, Ambrose charged at the harpy with his blade drawn, which drew her away from you. Sabrina and Hilda then kneeled beside you, the former with tears in her eyes and a terrified look on her face as she held your hand, and the latter clearly trying to hide her panic as she unsuccessfully attempted to heal you. But your injuries were far too extensive, and your loved ones’ magick was far too weak.

The unmistakable sound of a gunshot pierced through the night air, and you weakly turned your head to see Aunt Zelda holding a shotgun, Ambrose a few feet from your attacker, and the harpy lying dead on the ground. The two then ran over to you, both dropping to their knees at your side, their faces just as solemn and fearful as Sabrina and Aunt Hilda.

It was then, looking upon the panic-stricken faces of your family, that you knew you were going to die.

Darkness began to cloud your vision, and you vaguely heard your sister sobbing, and aunts and cousin begging you to stay conscious, giving you empty promises that they would find a way to fix this, and that everything would be alright. In the midst of all their hysterics, it seemed an idea donned on Sabrina.

“Caliban!” she screamed desperately into the night, her voice breaking from the force as she put behind it.

He appeared instantly, the usual vortex of flames escorting him onto the scene. He opened his mouth, no doubt to make a smug retort to Sabrina’s unceremonious summoning, before his eyes fell on you.

“No,” Caliban whispered in disbelief, still frozen on the spot. Blood poured from your abdomen, and the sight of you torn open and half-dead filled him with a sense of gripping terror and worry he had never before experienced. He ran over to you, skidding to a stop on his knees and gently cradling your head in his hands.

“Do something!” Sabrina begged, a sob raking her body. Caliban panicked for a split second, then a solution came to him. It was a last ditch effort kind of plan, but seeing as your eyes had already drifted shut, and your body was growing colder by the second, he knew that he must do something that would absolutely ensure your survival.

“With a desperate heart and no time to waste, I call upon all three Fates!”

In a cloud of smoke, three hooded figures appeared. Each had clouded eyes, long white hair, and greenish-gray, wrinkled skin.

“Fates, I beseech you to save this woman’s life,” Caliban pleaded.

“In exchange for our aid, you must give up the fate you have been pursuing so fiercely.” The Fates spoke in unison, their voices raspy and eerie. “You must cease your pursuit of the throne of Hell, and no longer seek to make Earth the tenth circle.”

“I shall. Here and now, I end my quest to become King of Hell, and remake the Earth as the tenth circle,” Caliban vowed. The lack of hesitation and conviction in his voice astounded each of the Spellman’s, although that was but a minor thought in the back of their minds at the moment. “Just save the woman I love, please.”

The Fates disappeared without another word in another cloud of smoke, at the same moment that a ragged, desperate gasp tore from your lips. The Spellman’s and Caliban all snapped their eyes back down to you. The fatal wound had been healed, and even your clothing was fixed. You sat bolt upright, as if you’d just been necromanced back to life – and, technically, you had. As you looked around at your loved ones, the realization that you were alive and safe sunk in, and you immediately began to cry.

“I saw Dad. I saw him,” you sobbed pitifully, and your family took you into their arms. You despised how weak you sounded, but seeing your father was something you were entirely unprepared for. Caliban rubbed his palm up and down your back, not wanting to interfere with your familial embrace. Still crying into Auntie Zee’s chest, you explained, “I died. I died and Dad was there waiting for me. He hugged me and told me that he was happy to see me, but it wasn’t my time yet.”

It was several minutes before you were able to compose yourself, although you supposed that was somewhat to be expected for someone who had just died then came back to life. After your aunts wiped your tears, you turned around to look at Caliban.

“I know you had something to do with this. We’re all powerless right now, so that is the only explanation,” you whispered. “What did you do?”

Caliban hesitated a moment, so Ambrose answered for him.

“He called upon the Fates. They demanded that he give up the fate he has been pursuing, in order to save you. So, he vowed to give up the throne of Hell, and said it was to save the woman he loves.”

You looked slowly from Ambrose back to Caliban. He appeared slightly perturbed that Ambrose revealed what he’d said in that moment of fear-fueled vulnerability, but didn’t bother to deny it.

“Caliban… is that true?”

“As I’ve told you before: anything for you,” Caliban answered, giving you a soft smile. You threw your arms around his neck, and he immediately wrapped his around your waist.

“I love you,” you murmured, your face buried in his neck. Caliban held you tightly and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“And I love you, little dove.”

[voiceless-terror]

Ep. 192 Spoilers: Jon’s thoughts on the Panopticon, Rosie’s statement, and Jonah Magnus.

Martin says goodbye.

Georgie does not, and neither does Jon. She thinks carefully about the words she speaks, now that she knows their power. Jon appreciates this, here at the end. 

There are Archivists (colleagues) in their path, blocking their way. They’re you, they’re what you might become - but they aren’t, because Jon’s managed to do what none of them could. He is the Archive and they are shadows and dust, forever doomed to guard the tower and never truly know the favor of their God. And they will heed his call.

Ceaseless Watcher, see your servants approach. Herald their arrival and bid them welcome into our your sanctum.

They move. Jon and Martin start their climb.

It’s dizzying, their ascent. Jon can feel the power thrumming heavily in his veins as they grow closer. The tunnels, while not so cut off as Upton House, were so numbing. He felt pitiful, mundane, sapped of all energy. And this is his world, isn’t it? He should never have to feel that way. Jon feels guilty for this thought, of course. He’s felt guilty all his life, that will never change. But now he feels powerful, and that is altogether different.

He answers the call, accepts the gentle but insistent tugging. It speeds his steps and devours his fear and it feels so terribly good. There’s a voice but it’s distorted by a familiar static; if he focuses hard Jon thinks he hears Elias’s Jonah’s voice, but he can’t be too sure. It’s all the same now.

Martin calls to him, tells him to slow down. He tempers his excitement, tries to keep it light. Corrects his Shakespeare. He feels guilty for enjoying this, despite his terror. Martin’s his reason. Martin keeps him grounded. Martin’s right behind him- no he isn’t. Jon pauses.

The door that bars them from Elias’s office is the same as it always was, but on a nightmare scale. His fingers itch to reach out, he’s so close, he wants to see but then- of course.

Rosie.

She’s always barred his way. From his time as a researcher, to his promotion as Head Archivist and even now, trapped in a hell of her own making. He regards her with a strange mix of pleasure and pity; she doesn’t deserve this, none of them do. But the familiarity soothes him.

They need an appointment. Martin scoffs, tries to get through to her. Jon insists. She buzzes Jonah with some reluctance, and where Jon expects to hear the crisp, clear voice he knows so well, there is nothing but static. 

But Rosie understands this static. Is Jonah even speaking to her? Or is she hearing an echo of times past, an eternal chorus of ‘Send him right in’ or ‘We’ll need to reschedule.’ It would be fitting. 

She refuses them once again. Jon relents, drags Martin away. The Eye has a gift for him, one last statement before he sees what could be the face of his God made visible. He never thought much of Rosie, never really knew her.

But now he will.

Jon sees her- a woman fast approaching middle age with nothing but the ruins of a failed marriage and a need to start over guiding her hand. Elias, young but so very old, staring down with cold grey eyes. 

So why do you want this job, Ms. Zampano?

How strange. Even after all this time, Jon never knew her last name.

She needs money, she needs something to do, she instead says she’s curious and tells herself it’s a lie but is it, really? She’s always had a wild imagination. Her mind goes to the strangest of places and yet she does nothing, nothing about it. 

Jon watches as he enters the picture. So young, he thinks, but then again it had only been two years ago, hadn’t it? 

The things they said about him in the break room.

He knew of it peripherally, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Snickers when he passed by a room of former colleagues in an ill-fitting suit, hair gelled within an inch of its life. He remembers he bought new shoes when he got the promotion. They didn’t match any of his clothes. Everyone knew what a fool he was. Once, an email went around, forwarded to him by accident (or perhaps not). The first few replies left a sour taste in his mouth, and he deleted it before finishing. He buried his head in the sand, in more ways than one. 

The sort of things that passed across Mr. Bouchard’s desk about him. 

Jon wonders how many complaints Elias ignored. He only concerned himself with the most important ones, god forbid they anger the donors. But now he sees the stack filed away in a folder that will never be opened. In a strange, perverse sort of way, Elias was the only one on his side. The only one who wanted him. How sad.

Insecure, aggressive, desperate to be taken seriously.

I don’t want to hear this- but he does and he speaks it for his God to hear and perhaps Martin, only steps away. It sounds like a confession Jon doesn’t mean to make. He knows how pathetic he was, he can’t change it or take it back. Just a bark with no bite, Martin told him in those precious few weeks at the cottage.

He watches as Sasha- that’s Sasha, the real Sasha, scared but brave and angry as she rushed down the corridor. That’s her voice, not clouded by the static of a tape but just in the other room, if only Rosie would open the goddamn door he could finally see her-

But the Eye gives, and the Eye takes away. This is Rosie’s story; not his, not Sasha’s. The worms come, Sasha is gone, Daisy drags him past Rosie and he feels her pang of sympathy more than he sees it; Rosie keeps her face impassive, even when paralyzed with terror. Melanie and Tim- Tim, angry and whole- pass by for but a moment, and Rosie watches, waits, perfect servant of the Eye that she is, perfect backup plan. Nosy Rosie. 

Peter Lukas is here, smiling his empty smile but now Peter Lukas is dead, Jon made sure of that. He thinks he understands what Daisy felt; the call of the blood, the satisfaction behind a finished hunt. The thrill of his first kill soon replaced with fear and loathing and oh god, what have I done?

And now here they are. Rosie sits and waits for guests that never come until they do, now there’s two monsters on her doorstep side by unholy side. But Rosie knows monsters well.

Mr. Sims, was it?

Yes, yes! That’s his name. Sometimes he’s shocked to find he still has one. Martin’s Jon is not the same. Sims- that was his father’s name. His mother’s name. His grandmother’s. He can’t put a face to any of them anymore but he wants to hold on to that remnant of his childhood, lonely and sad as it was. His name is Jonathan Sims, and he’s here to see Jonah Magnus.

Jonah Magnus sees. Jonah Magnus can do nothing but see now, forever tangled in his own web of fear made manifest again and again and again, a perpetual cycle, an exquisite agony. It’s a sickness, like Jordan Kennedy said, but it’s a sickness that Jon would weep to have if only for a moment. Jonah got what he wanted, but for all of his Sight he could never know what the outcome of that desire would be. He’s one with the eye now.

He’s won.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29068671

[janeykath318]

Prison Proposal 8

“Hi, Tony,” Steve greeted nervously.

“Hey,” was Tony’s abrupt response. “First off, just know that if you hurt her, they’ll be scraping your remains up with your shield. Is that clear?”

“Very clear, Tony,” Steve said seriously, trying not to think about how Tony had told him he didn’t deserve the shield the last time they’d spoken. “I love Darcy.”

“Good. Make sure she knows that. Communication isn’t your strongest area, after all.”

Steve winced.

“Yeah, I deserved that,” he admitted. “But Tony, I really am sorry about what happened. I should have told you about what happened to Howard and Maria rather than you having to see that awful footage. I won’t apologize for protecting Bucky, though.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Tony said, after a short pause. “When I was able to think more rationally about the situation, I realized just how twisted it really was. Did Barnes know my dad?”

“Yeah, he did. Thought of him as a friend,” Steve said sadly.

“So where is Barnes now?” Tony asked. “They declared him dead, but I know better. Romanoff took off with him somewhere.”

“He’s safe,” Steve said. “Spent some time in Wakanda and the doctors were able to remove the triggers. The Winter Soldier is gone.”

“For sure?” Tony asked.

“Yes. Bucky himself told me. They tested them and he’s his own man again.”

“Wow,” Tony whistled. “They’re good. I studied some of the files on that program and they really did a number on his brain.”

“Yeah,” Steve said.

There was a long moment of silence before Tony continued slowly.

“Look, Steve, I’m not great at the apology thing, but I do regret what I said about you not deserving that shield. One of the dumbest things to ever come out of my mouth and I’ve said some pretty dumb stuff. And…..you were right about the Accords. I got manipulated into signing without reading them carefully. Ross is an ass.”

“On that we can definitely agree,” Steve said, watching Darcy out of the corner of his eye and giving her a thumbs up to reassure her it was going well. She visibly relaxed and started on the dishes, which was normally his job.

“So….truce?” Tony asked.

“Truce.” Steve confirmed, feeling another weight lift from his spirit.

“When will you newlyweds be back in New York? Pepper wants to throw you a shower.”

“Middle of next week, I’m guessing. We’re still enjoying our solitude.”

Steve could practically hear Tony’s exasperated eye roll at this comment.

“I gathered. Please stop right there. I do not want any mental images of what you get up to with my daughter. You two are going to cause enough unholy terror together as it is.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to grin evilly. He was going to have fun scandalizing his famous father-in-law just by power of suggestion. He couldn’t help it if Tony’s mind went straight to the gutter.

“Okay, I’ll refrain,” he said innocently. “We’ll let you know when we get back. It’s probably going to be a whirlwind in the press when it gets out.”

“Yep. They’ll be stunned to find America’s golden boy is off the market.”

“Not so golden anymore,” Steve sighed.

“Eh,” Tony said dismissively. “They’ll come crawling back to us when the world needs saving again and then this will all be forgiven. Things are starting to come out about Ross that show his true colors. The sooner you get back, the sooner I can get you a new suit. I’ve got ideas for upgrades. You’re gonna love it.”

Steve chuckled. Tony just couldn’t help himself. Always tweaking and tinkering.

“We’ll see about that.”

[chris-evans-indian-fanfic]

Voice

One-Shot

Description: When Mr Freezy enters your life, your peaceful world is destroyed.

Warnings: Non-consensual, voyeurism, masturbation, verbal abuses, harsh language and hints of necrophilia

DO NOT PROCEED IF THESE THINGS UPSET YOU. THIS IS A VERY DARK STORY. ONLY PROCEED IF YOU ARE 18+

This one-shot is my entry for Week 5 of @donutloverxo 's superfun writing challenge. This time, the challenge was based on GIFs. The one I selected will appear in the story below. Click here to participate in their weekly challenges

A/N- I blame @jtargaryen18 for making me an unholy hoe for Mr Freezy! 

My Main Masterlist

I don’t consent to have any of my work published or featured on any third party app, website or translated. If you are seeing this fanfiction anywhere but Tumblr and AO3, it has been reposted without my permission. In that case, please do share the link and let me know.

…

You were living the best life in 1969. Working part-time at the ice-cream parlor in the mornings, hanging out with your friends in the evening and sneaking out for parties at night, you loved your routine, carefree life in New Jersey.

Your foot bobbed along the tunes of Honky Tonk Woman by The Rolling Stones as you read that month's fashion magazine, sitting by the new, shiny cassette player. Taking pride in the fact that your family was the first in the neighborhood to buy the expensive cassette player, latest in the technology of playing music, you smirked as you delicately, almost teasingly fondled the device. 

*beep beep*

The annoying horn of the filthy ice-cream truck broke you out of your reverie. Scowling, you turned to look at the abomination on 4 wheels parked right in front of your house. The long-haired driver, who called himself Mr Freezy, always gave you creepy vibes. Maybe he thought his wide smile would lure in more children, but it never failed to make your skin crawl with disgust. 

You tried your best to ignore him and his irritating horn, hoping that he would drive away soon enough. Unfortunately, it was a hot summer's day and there was a long, winding line of customers.

After yet another *beep beep* you slammed down the magazine on the table. Walking out in your pinkish-red knee-length skirt and long-sleeved top, you had a good mind to tell Mr Freezy off.

Standing in front of his ice-cream truck window, you stomped your foot and placed your hands on your hips. "How can I help you Ms Jello Mould?" his disgusting attempt at comparing you to a dessert sent a chill down your spine. 

"You have a long line of customers! Stop pressing your horn every 5 seconds!" you exclaimed, gesturing your hands towards the waiting people.

Mr Freezy chuckled, but the mirth didn't reach his eyes behind the glasses, "Now now. That is no way to talk to someone who is older than you Raspberry Ripple," he said in a friendly tone, "Not everybody can afford to buy a cassette player." 

"Maybe you can if you cleaned your ice-cream truck once in a while," you spat, purposefully covering your nose, "I work in an ice-cream parlor, and no establishment dealing with ice-creams should stink like this!" 

"My customers don't seem to mind it Sugar," his sweet tongue rolling the last word as if he was drooling.

You huffed, "I mind it! And stop with the horn! Or I will have daddy make sure you are never seen here again." And with that hardly intimidating threat, you walked towards your house. Mr Freezy licked his lips as he saw your silhouette disappear behind the front door. He could put your bratty nature to good use. Very good use indeed.

🍦

Dressed in a brown checkered dress, you sauntered home after your shift ended, your spirits high as you looked forward to being Ricky's date tonight at the party.

As you entered your home, your eyes fell upon the new cassette sitting besides your beloved player. Squealing with excitement, you rushed and grabbed the plastic box, hurriedly prying it open. To your surprise, a few photographs of you and Ricky fell out of the case with the words "Does daddy know about him?" scribbled on the back of every photograph.

No no no. OH GOD NO! you panicked as you rifled through the images. Your parents had no idea about your nightlife, let alone your boyfriend! These lovey-dovey photographs threatened to reveal your secret and ruin your life.

You found another note in the box behind the cassette, "There are plenty where these came from. Now be a good girl and play the cassette." Just beneath the sentence, a chocolate bar was roughly drawn in the corner and the words “My Chocolate Fudge” were written in small letters. 

Your hands trembled as you hit play. A raspy voice greeted you from the device.

"Hey baby." You knew this voice, who was he? "Has daddy's little princess recognised me?" You were pretty shaken up, your mind refused to let go of the terror and think straight for a moment as your thumbs rubbed against one another.

"Oohh Sugar, what am I going to do with you?" the voice chuckled. That sentence brought you to a complete halt. It was Mr Freezy! How dare he threaten you like this?

Before you could form any coherent thought, he tut-tutted in annoyance, "How can an ordinary ice-cream man like me trouble a beautiful young woman such as yourself? What will Daddy say? Let's call Daddy shall we? I am sure he would enjoy looking at how well Ricky can fondle his daughter's breasts."

You felt numb as his words sank in. If your father found out, he would have you sent to the country, to his relatives who lived on a farm! Eww!! You shuddered, overcome with disgust as the cassette continued.

"Now Sugar, we don't need to tell Daddy about us. Do we?" You shook your head in response. "Very good," Mr Freezy continued, "Open the curtains to your right, and look at the house across the street."

You followed the instructions, and nearly choked on your spit. There he was, in your neighbour's house, smiling and waving from their first-floor window. "Follow my next instructions very carefully, or I will make sure that your entire neighborhood comes to know about the wonderful kisser that Ricky is."

You could only nod in response. No matter what, you could not afford to let your family be humiliated because of your actions. 

"From now on, hit pause after you finish every command. And hurry, we haven't got all day Sugar. Your mother will be home soon. And if she is home before I am done with you, then let's just say tonight there wouldn't be any dessert for you," you gulped in agreement.

"Pull up a chair near the window and place the player near you." Your fear slowed you down and the recorder kept on playing, "Face the window, and strip." After a pause, you heard, "Sit on the chair and spread your legs wide. Keep your feet on the windowsill."

The rest of the commands fell on deaf ears as your body was stunned in shock. Did this man… really? You couldn't. You wouldn't. Maybe you could still apologise…

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you realised what this man wanted you to do. It was almost 4:30pm and people would soon fill the street in front of your house. If anybody decided to even look towards the window, they would surely see your body on full display.

As if reading your thoughts, Mr Freezy shook his head and pointed to his wristwatch.

You knew your mother would be home before 5:30pm. Whatever you had to do, you would have to do it quickly. 

With trembling hands, you paused the cassette, and obeyed his first two commands, the upholstery on the chair feeling warm against your naked bottom. From this angle, you couldn't see him, but you were sure he was keeping an eye on you.

You were correct. 

Mr Freezy sucked on his ice-cream bar as he watched the scene unfold. His tongue working the cold dessert as if it were your core. A small bite here, a suck there, and his length was already aching in his pants.

"Oooo look at that slutty pussy! Just waiting for a man's touch," his voice cooed from the recorder, "Play with your clit with one hand, and bring your other hand to your breast."

You begrudgingly relented, wanting to get it all over with soon. Heat flooded to your face as the indignity of your actions set in.

Across the street, Mr Freezy unzipped his pants, and started rubbing the neighbor's panty on his shaft, his touch fleetingly light as he sucked on the bar. He bit into the ice-cream when you rubbed your clit, the cold going straight to his length.

"I love how your plump breasts bounce everytime you take a step. A man can get lost in those curves of yours," his raspy voice continued, "Squeeze your breast lightly. Feel it's roundness. Tease your nipple too. Fondle it with one finger." 

You bit your lips as you followed his instructions. You had masturbated a few times and had even reached third base with Ricky, but it had never felt like this. You knew this was humiliation in answer to your rude behaviour. But this… it felt… good. You were ashamed to admit it, but as the teasing prolonged, you started feeling the familiar and ever elusive knot building up in your stomach.

"Yes yes yes baby. Rub that clit harder. Make that pussy wet for me. But don't you dare enter a finger in your cumhole." 

He watched as your hips thrust upwards, desperate for friction, as he started pumping himself faster. 

"Slap that boob," he commanded as another moan escaped your lips, "slap harder!" and you did. "Pinch your nipple and pull it. Pull it you cock sucking bitch."

More wetness pooled at your core as you continued to play with your body. 

"Stop," said Mr Freezy's voice. At first you thought you misheard him and so you didn't.

"I said STOP YOU FUCKING BITCH," his shouts from the player sounded as clear as a bell. 

Startled, you brought yourself to a complete stop. Despite yourself, the sudden cessation left you feeling disappointed and hungry for more. "Pause this recording. Go to the full-length mirror in your room and have a good look at yourself," his voice urged you.

Meanwhile, Mr Freezy had come undone across the street, his thick release coating the neighbor's cotton panties. He sighed as he used the neighbor's brassiere to wipe himself clean. He was longing to get a taste of you. Too bad he had other things planned for you instead.

You ran towards your room, trying to hide your nakedness as much as you could. You didn't recognise the woman in the reflection. Hair astray, lips and cheeks slightly flushed, puffed breath, eyes wide and the hair on your mound glistening with your arousal. You couldn't bring yourself to meet your eyes reflected in the mirror. 

You carefully went downstairs, and resumed the cassette.

"Saw the slut in the mirror? That's who you are bitch. A whore for a man's cock. Don't let Ricky touch that filthy pussy again, or I will fill you with my cum infront of your Daddy while he watches," the cassette ended with the heavy threat.

🍦

You were living the worst life in 1969. Quite often, you came home to a new cassette with new instructions recorded on them. Everytime, the plastic box was filled with naked photographs of your previous lewd acts. Up until now, you had jumped naked in front of the window, placed ice on different parts of your body, deep-throated an ice-cream bar and stripped to a vulgar song. 

Tonight however, it was different. He had asked you to carry a bottle of wine (that he kept on your bed while you were gone) and go to a hotel at midnight. Mr Freezy had explicitly mentioned that you were to wear only your bra and panty. Still, you covered yourself with a long coat as you snuck out of the house.

The hotel, if you could call an almost crumbling building that, was in the notorious part of town. With your heart pounding in your throat, you shed your coat and knocked on the door. A large man answered, his smirk widening as he took in your appearance. "You Buffy's girl?" you nodded just as you had been instructed. The stranger pulled your breast and dragged you into the room. 

He smacked your ass as he grabbed the wine bottle with another, "Buffy always sends the best stuff."

He was swift in opening the bottle, chugging the liquid down as if it was water. You shuddered at the thoughts of what this man was capable of doing to you. Tears filled your eyes at the realisation.

The man looked at you and, without warning, shoved the glass bottle in your mouth. "Drink. I like it when my prostitutes are drunk." His gaze swept over your entire body. One second you were gulping down the foul liquid, the next you were gasping for breath as he pulled the cups of your bra and poured the liquid down your torso, "Let these girls drink too! Lets get hammered baby!" he exclaimed as he pulled the elastic band of your panty and poured the wine on your mound. 

He laughed maniacally as you squirmed in his grip. Drinking the last of the drops, he pulled you into his lap, licking and sucking at the wine currently following down your figure. 

Your protests only spurred him on, but it all lasted only for a few seconds. 

You felt the stranger's body seize with yours. Breath coming in harsh rasps, you felt your throat constricting as sharp pain shot in every nerve of your body. Your agony, along with the stranger's, lasted only for a few minutes as your shallow breaths became few, finally coming to a raggedy stop.

Mr Freezy smiled a lopsided grin into his binoculars. He hurried across the street, grabbing the girl's dead body and dumping it into his ice-cream truck.

He happily hummed when he saw the ice slowly creep up your skin. You see, this profession had turned Mr Freezy cold, inside out. To an extent where he despised the warmth of a pussy around his cock. He craved the cold. He craved you.

__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--__

Taglist open! Just comment, send an ask or message!

[cas-huggybear]

God’s most beloved

A/N: this is just a random story I wrote. It’s about Lucier and his fall, his time in the cage and his relationship with his family. And why he tortured Sam Winchester.

He was God’s favorite.

He loved him and siblings deeply.

It hadn't been his fault. The mark, his father had given him, it poisoned his mind.

God had acted irresponsible and foolish, putting such a burden on his most beloved child. He should have known that an object of such power would be too much, even for an archangel.

Then God created men.

Of course Lucifer became jealous of mankind because he loved his father more than anything, and he believed so did his father.

But he was wrong.

God showed more concern fore those creatures than him.

He could not comprehend how such weak and foolish beings even deserved to exist.

So he wanted to set humanity free; to show them that there is more than blind obedience and that free will exists. He would free their minds of the illusion his father created, show them how wrong their beloved God was.

So he seduced her, Eve, the woman. Not because she was weaker than Adam, it had been the contrary. He found more pride in seducing the stronger one, to humiliate his father even more.

He laughed when he saw Adam eating the apple out of Eve's hand, greedily biting and chewing, the sweet juices dripping down his chin.      

And he laughed when he twisted Lilith's human soul, creating the first of the demons.

But then his family turned against him, coldly banishing him from heaven.

And he should have known the angel's blind devotion to their father wasn't something to be quickly overruled.

But the devotion in those who followed him burned hot and the war that came was terrible.

Heaven was shattered, and the descendants of Adam and Eve were terrified, cowering on earth below every time a deafening rumble from above rang in their fragile ears.

When he remembers the war, which divided heaven forever, all he can see is his brothers and sisters.

Angels, slain. Their wings ripped out on the base, terrible, gaping holes where beautiful, divine feathers should be.

Angels, broken and battered.

And he knew, what burns hot, fades even faster. By the time it wasn't utter love and admiration he saw in their eyes. Instead, he saw doubt and grief, slowly turning to anger and hatred. Towards him.

And in his terrible wrath he smote those who doubted him, smote his own people.

After that there were whispers in his own garrison. Whispers, that he had become insane, driven to madness by having to kill his own siblings.

And if he would have been honest to himself, he secretly knew those voices were right. But he was known for his pride and so he refused to believe so.

Perhaps he was insane, but for a different reason. The Mark. The Mark to seal away his father's sister, the Mark that held too much power for him to bear. He had to lose it. And he found a way. The foolish human Cain, tricked and deceived by the Morningstar now bore the Mark, making it widely known. Making him the first human to commit the most terrible crime: murder. He slaughtered his own brother Abel with the jawbone of a mere cow. Lucifer laughed as he saw the despair in father's eyes as it happened.

But he was afraid, afraid because he knew there was still no going back now.

Then it happened.

His father gave the orders. Lucifer followed out of pride, his beloved brother Michael followed as always out of obedience.

There was a time when he secretly used to be jealous of his brother. What a perfect soldier he was. He knew he could never be like him, and the doubt wormed its way up to his heart. But father's strong, soothing hand on his shoulder and gentle words of assurance had simply made the doubt vanish.

The first thing the oldest archangel had noticed while entering the imposing throne room, was Michael's place, – at father's right. The place where he used to stand, assisting father, deliberating with him.

Tall, proud and in golden armor, sword in his mighty hand, Michael did not look at Lucifer when he entered. His piercing blue gaze was fixated right above his brother's head, not acknowledging him. Lucifer couldn't help but grin at his brother's stubbornness.

A choir of whispers surrounded him, hundreds of angel's bearing witness in the throne room.

There was a time those whispers were full of worship and adoration – adoration for him, the Morningstar. But instead of soft, quiet whispers, words of fondness and devotion, those whispers were now cruel and harsh, piercing like the ice-cold wind of earth below.

Insane... evil... traitor... unholy... MONSTER!

He growled and turned around, facing the brutal voices. How could they. They were his family. How dared they insult him that way. After all he was the first and most powerful archangel, Lucifer Morningstar, the bringer of dawn and (he used to be) God's most beloved.

And who were they? Low, meaningless angels, talking about him like he was insane, when in truth they were the blind, little sheep.

He smiled. Pathetic, he thought, as he looked into their faces, expressions full of terror. He snapped his fingers, a dozen angels disintegrating. The unharmed angels cried out in horror, cowering under his fiery blue stare and he delighted in their fear.

“LUCIFER!”

There he was. His brother finally looked him in the eye. Lucifer grinned at him too.

“You will pay for this.”, Michael's voice sounded, threateningly low, but his older brother was not impressed.

They met in the middle of the white throne room, surrounded by angels and marble-pillars.

It happened fast. Michael raised his sword. The proud, strong archangel Michael, but most of all his dear brother, was fighting him.

They had fought before, before all of it happened. They had fought about every mild inconvenience, driving father and his siblings mad. But back then, there was always some sort of playfulness, even cheer in their eyes. And if he hurt Michael in a serious manner, or the other way around, the brothers would always apologize, hug and laugh it off, not seeing the content smile on their father's face afterwards.

But not now.

Now, it was Michael's intent to end him. His hits showed no mercy, relentlessly battling him, channeling all his strength. His mighty sword coming down on his and the look on his face, grim and cold, showing no emotion.

Lucifer knew his brothers and sisters were watching them, they cried out in horror every time one of them was hit.

The two beautiful brothers were fighting hard and relentlessly, divine swords crashing together in loud, metallic rings.

But Lucifer knew he was still a better fighter, more powerful. He was the first archangel, angel, older than his brother and he would win.

Or so he thought. He had underestimated his brother's grim determination, underestimated Michael's will to turn against him.

At first he thought there was a chance of talking to his stubborn brother, but every time he attempted to speak, his brother's eyes would glow, bright and blue, and his celestial energy would force Lucifer back.

Still the Morningstar believed he would win that terrible battle.

And Lucifer was furious. How could his brother do that to him? How could father do this to him? He loved them, he loved all of his family.

They were both bleeding now, grace shining bright through their bodies.

Father's voice rumbled through heaven's throne room, commanding them to halt in their action. They both stopped, Michael out of obedience, Lucifer out of old habit.

Father's accusations numbed him but at the same time...

There it was.

The flame inside of him, burning bright and red through his eyes and Michael's look of utter disturbance when he saw his brother's blue eyes turn red for the first time fueled his unstoppable rage even more.

With proud strides the Morningstar made his way over to father's throne.

The angels screamed as they saw him raise his sword at father, and then he screamed when  Michael roughly yanked him backwards.

By his wings.

The most sensitive and most holy part of an angel's body. The most intimate. He could feel feathers ripping out, blood spilling, the small bones crushed under Michael's merciless grip.

With a roar he turned around with the intention of causing Michael as much pain as he experienced.

But then it happened. For a split second he could see Michael's facade crumble when he heard father's command. He could see the real Michael, not the cold soldier but his little brother, staring up at him in dread. Even for Michael father's choice of punishment sounded cruel.

Lucifer stared at his brother, awaiting his reaction.

A choir of terrified angel voices followed them again and when he saw the clouds dividing, the distant green of earth so contrary to the white marble of the throne room, he knew it was the end.

Michael's expression shifted back to grim and determined.

For the last time Lucifer allowed himself to look at his brothers.

Gabriel. Tears were streaming down his little brothers face, arms around a little fledgling who had buried his face in Gabriel's side.

Raphael stared at him without emotion, looking at him as if watching the clouds in heaven.

But Lucifer couldn't look at father. Not after this. He despised him.

And in this moment he swore his revenge would be terrible.

With gleaming red eyes he turned his face to look at Michael. The cold breeze from the opening rustled his and Michael's feathers.

He grinned at his brother, his face a mocking grimace.

“What are you waiting for, brother?”, he spat.

With another violent pull Michael yanked him forward once again and he could hear his bones break. The pain emerging from his wing was almost unbearable.

Lucifer wanted to stop his brother from dragging him, tried hitting him with his bare hands, kicking him, clawing at him, anything to protect his wings, but his hands did not affect Michael and he knew, it was father who protected his brother against his attacks.

He stumbled after his little brother, cursing him, cursing father and the entirety of heaven.

When his other wing broke, the angels started crying but he simply laughed.

“You are a monster, Lucifer.”, his brother's cold voice hurting him more than his grip on his wings.

With those words Michael let his white, bloodstained wings go and violently kicked him, hard, in the back, right between his destroyed wings.

Then he fell, accompanied by his sibling's cries.

What he mostly remembers from the fall is pain and the smell of his burning wings. Once he reached a certain speed, he was nothing but a ball of fire.

His broken wings were flapping useless above him, burning.

He tried to do anything to slow himself, tried to lift his once strong wings, but the broken bones did not allow him to.

It is said the scream that erupted from Lucifer's throat that moment shook not only heaven, but hell and earth as well.

And mankind was terrified once they caught sight of the archangel, falling in a fiery mess, and heard his terrible cry.  

The moment he collided with earth's rough surface, he wished he had lost consciousness.

Instead, he hit the surface with a shattering thud.

Only then, everything went black.

When he woke up again, he found himself behind strong, warded metal bars., His father's print clear on them.

He knew father had meant to bind him, to not release him upon the earth, threatening his oh so beloved creation.

The millennia he spent imprisoned in the cage had their fair share on him. Healing was hard, all alone in the darkness with no help.

His wings...

His beautiful wings were destroyed. The once alabaster white feathers, with sprinkles of pure gold at the feather's ends were now black and stunted – burned.

And he wept for them, wept alone in the darkness of the sickening cage, wept for his despair and repudiation.

Once he used to laugh at his father's poor creativity, locking him up just like he did to his sister.

Once he used to laugh at the screams of the doomed souls, suffering.

After a while he stopped. He became... considerate, quiet.

Over hundreds of years he took the time of the solitude to heal himself.

And finally his wings were restored to their former glory, as well as the rest of his body.

But not his mind. It was broken and no grace, no divine power could repair it. There was nothing but a storm of dark clouds, full of hatred, disdain and rage.

So he was left with himself. Thinking, planning, listening.

And how he learned to loathe his father and all his creation.

The once beautiful archangel Lucifer Morningstar, God's most beloved child, was now the Devil.

Twisted, sick and evil, he waited.

A whisper. Promises from Azazel, one of his princes. Promises for him. He hoped Azazel wouldn't fail – otherwise not even the bars of the damned cage would save the demon from his wrath.

Then, he felt a low rumble, vibrating through the cage.

Then another. And another.

He could sense her coming. His first creation. Lilith. After all she was bound to him.

Her words were the sweetest music in his ears.

Music, of the 66 seals being broken, music of heaven's armies failing.

And finally he laughed again and all of hell heard him and cheered.

Lucifer would walk the earth and be their salvation.

With the last seal breaking, the fire in him burned again, after a long time.

He was free again.

Finally he was going to get his revenge.

And it would be so sweet.

He smiled. He would destroy the one thing that brought him his doom – humanity.

And he would find such pleasure in destroying his father’s most beloved creation.

Lucifer would destroy mankind the same way his father had destroyed him.

He was surprised at how easy it was to possess his first vessel. How easily manipulated humans still were.

Thousands of years after their creation and they were just as weak and pathetic as the day they first opened their eyes.

The suffering they would endure once he had raised hell would be terrible, and he hoped that father, wherever he was, would see the mistake he made.

He knew his brother's garrison was after him, but he had other, more important concerns.

For example convincing Sam Winchester to be his vessel – it was his destiny after all. The same way it was Sam's idiotic brother's destiny to be Michael's vessel.

But the brothers were... stronger and more resistant than usual, their brotherly love painfully reminding him of what he and Michael once used to have.

He did not worry though, they were just humans after all and he was, well, the Devil.

Then, the one thing he always tried to avoid happened.

His little brother, Gabriel got in his way, and he couldn't understand why he would care for those pagans. Lesser beings, not half as worth as his little brother himself, far beneath him.

So he left his little Gabriel the choice – him or Michael, to evaluate whether he was worthy of being a part of his new kingdom.

And oh how he wished his little brother would have picked him, how his foolish little brother would see that he was the right choice.

But Gabriel was blind and so he had to end him.

He simply couldn't show any more weakness. Now it was about his main goal, and to reach it. He would turn against his family for it, like they once turned on him. He had tried but his brother had left him no choice.

And so he had turned around, piercing his brother's own blade right through his heart, watching the life leave his eyes, shining bright and blue through them.

He cried and wept for his little brother but it had to be. There was no way he could allow any form of resistance in his kingdom.

The world would be his, only his.

But of course his other brother couldn’t let that happen.

Lucifer still loved Michael. Even now, after what Michael had done to him. Even after his last words to him had stung terribly.

So he tried talking to him, get him to understand that he wasn’t evil. (Just) simply misunderstood.

But his stupid, prideful, stubborn brother wouldn’t listen to him. He was just as blind as Gabriel was.

So they had to fight and he knew he would win. He was the Morningstar after all.

And his kingdom would rise.

But then, this miserable human and his imbecile brother damaged his plans.

When Sam Winchester accepted to be his vessel, he knew he should have locked him far away in his mind before, but it was so much fun watching the younger Winchester suffer.

Watching it tear him apart that he wasn’t strong enough to overpower him, to watch innocent people die at his own hands.

And how he enjoyed beating up the pitiful other one, Dean, making him suffer at his Sammy’s hand.

But he underestimated them, and he cursed himself for it.

His stupid vessel took control, and it grabbed Michael, dragging both of them with him.

And then he was there again.

The one place he wished to never be again, the one place he feared.

He had wished to never having to look at the iron bars, how they seemingly got closer with every breath he took.

But this time he wasn’t alone.

And even if he couldn’t get his revenge on father, he knew ways nobody else knew of, to make the person suffer who brought him back to the hell hole.

A smile crept up his face.

He would break Sam Winchester.

[nurloxx]

tale as old as time

summary: it’s bedtime, and kam’lu is in charge of telling the story

a/n: MAY’LU SHIPPERS COME GET Y’ALL JUICE

"What story do you think papa is going to tell this time?" Brea asked from where she sat on her mother's lap as the older Vapra diligently combed her long pale locks.

"It better not be the one where he got sun frenzy and thought a Hooyim was trying to speak to him." Seladon sighed, running a silver brush through her own hair. She was curled up on a mountain of plush velvet pillows beside her sister Tavra, who was fidgeting impatiently.

"I just hope it's not boring." she said simply.

Mayrin chuckled as she finished up, pecking Brea on the forehead and placing her back down so she could rejoin her sisters on the bed.

"I'm sure whatever your father has planned won't dissapoint." She then discreetly added under her breath. "I hope...."

"Do my ears deceive me or are there four fair gelfling maidens in dire need of a story?"

Four heads simultaneously turned in the direction of a playful voice that boomed from down the hall. The girls squealed in unison as the door swung open to reveal the form of their father, and they abandoned the bed in favor of crowding around his legs enthusiastically.

Kam'lu laughed heartily, scooping his two youngest daughters into his arms, then bending down so that his eldest could climb up on his back.

Mayrin rolled her eyes. "Love, you know they're not supposed to get too excited. It is their bedtime after all."

The Sifa captain gave her a lopsided grin. "Oh but bedtime is the most exciting time of the day, didn't you know? Especially tonights!" He dug his fingers into Tavra and Brea's sides, making them squeal and shriek with laughter.

"Papa, do you have a story for us?" Brea asked, her characteristic curious pools of gold twinkling.

"He better!" Tavra jabbed her tiny finger into her father's chest. "Otherwise I stayed awake for nothing!"

"Fear not my beauties. Tonight's story is a very special one." He gently placed them all down on the pile of cushions, claiming his spot on the biggest one. "One I think your mother will be quite familiar with."

Mayrin almost wanted to ask what Kam'lu was getting at, but the knowing look he threw over his shoulder gave her all the clarification she needed. Smiling, she stood from the vanity chair and got comfortable next to her mate. Their hands interlaced in clear view of their daughters, both not even needing to think about the action. It was practically second nature at that point.

"So, first things first. I have a question for you all." Mayrin gestured between her and Kam'lu. "Do you believe our initial meeting was love at first sight?"

Brea nodded enthusiastically, while Tavra and Seladon shared a look of doubt.

"I'd be surprised if it was..." Seladon muttered.

Mayrin tittered, putting her fingers to her lips. "You'd be correct, my dear. When I first encountered your father, we couldn't have been more different from each other. In the back of my mind I couldn't even begin to fathom how I'd be able to get along with someone so oafish, and thick skulled, and brash-"

"Really feeling the love here...." Kam'lu deflated, ears pinning to the sides of his head. He was actually pouting, and it caused his mate to let out a proper laugh.

"You didn't let me finish." She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I truly did believe you to be all those things. However, I'd be proven wrong later on. You were so much more, my love."

The smile slowly returned to Kam'lus face. He kissed her cheek, nuzzling it tenderly. "And to think, all it took was being swallowed up by a sea monster and fighting for our lives trying to escape."

"Wait, you got swallowed by a what?!" Brea exclaimed in disbelief, bouncing around in her seat.

"Sea monster?!" Tavra balked.

"How did you get out?!" Seladon placed a hand to her chest, eyes wide in shock.

The questions continued to pour in at a steady rate.

"Was it a big monster?"

"Did you fight it?!"

"Did you have to light a fire inside it's belly and have it sneeze you out?!"

All eyes in the room fell on Brea with varying levels of puzzlement.

She merely shrugged. "It was in one of my books."

Kam'lu and Mayrin bursted out laughing at that, the older Sifa having to wipe away a tear or two. Such differing personalities their daughters had, but it made them all the more lovable in their eyes.

"That is where our story begins, my young ones. You see, it was a rather dreary and stormy night. The waves had become quite restless..." Kam'lu started his tale, motioning with his hands for the girls to come in closer. They did so without question.

Despite her mate's rather.... eccentric style of storytelling, Mayrin found herself being oddly soothed by it. She studied her daughter's faces with a serene expression. Brea and Tavra seemed the most enraptured, while Seladon appeared more concerned than anything else.

A larger pale hand subtly reached out to grasp hers, and she unconsciously squeezed back.

"..... when we were suddenly face to face with Bobling King himself! Oh he was as helpful as he was fearsome!" Kam'lu made large theatric gestures with his arms, and Mayrin wasn't sure if it was solely for the girls amusement or if he genuinely remembered the King Bobling in that way.

"Pfft, he doesn't sound so scary." Tavra scoffed, crossing her arms.

"That's because he wasn't, dear." Mayrin interjected. She turned to Kam'lu and raised a brow at him. "Love, he barely reached your knee."

"I'm sorry, who is the one telling the story here?"

She pinched the tip of his ear, eliciting a slight yelp from him. "I was there too, you fool." When before the word rolled off her tongue with scorn and exasperation, now there was only fondness present in the Vapra's tone.

This time it was Seladon's turn to laugh. She doubled over on the pillow, clutching her stomach. "Father, you were scared by something so small?" Her sisters soon followed suite, and even Mayrin couldn't resist letting out a chuckle at Kam'lus expense.

The older Sifa's cheeks flared red, and he huffed indignantly. "Well, if that's how you're all going to act, then I think we should cut this story short."

He was only joking of course, but they didn't know that. At least, his daughters didn't. Only Mayrin seemed to catch on to the slight mischievous glint in his eye that told her he didn't really take it to heart.

"No!!!!" Three pairs of arms shot out and latched onto Kam'lu before he could even think about getting up.

"We're sorry Papa!"

"Yeah, really really sorry!"

"You gotta finish the story!"

He looked down at the pleading faces of his little ones, and feigned a look of pensiveness.

"Well, I suppose I can't stay mad at my beauties for long, can I?"

"No, no you can't." Mayrin smirked, playing with a lock of russet colored hair. "We all have you wrapped around our fingers. Forever."

"There's no other fate on Thra I'd rather resign myself to. Now then," He pulled his mate, along with his daughters onto his lap, much to their amusement. It was a tight fit, but they managed. "As I was saying, we had begun our treacherous journey into the belly of the beast..."

Kam'lu smoothly picked up where he had left off, progressing through the rest of the story with little to no interruptions. Though he had to pause multiple times to chuckle at Tavra's starstruck expression when the subject of the flying Zoa and the final battle aboard skekSa's ship came up.

"From that day on, I swore I'd stay by your mother's side through thick and thin. No matter what unholy terrors Thra tossed our way, I'd be right there with her." Kam'lu smiled lovingly, kissing the head of his mate, who hummed in acknowledgement.

"And not long after, we had our first daughter. Our little Seladon." Mayrin cooed, cupping her eldest's cheek and stroking it with her thumb. "Do you remember where your name comes from, dearest?"

"It was the name of a famous Vapran general, right? The one who saved her village from an avalanche?"

Mayrin nodded, tapping her nose. "That's exactly right. I sensed a very stalwart spirit when I was pregnant with you, and I wanted your name to reflect that."

"Can we hear that story next?" Brea asked, yawning.

Kam'lu chuckled. "I'm afraid we'll have to save that particular tale for another night. For now, I think it's time for my beauties to get some sleep."

A low whine of protest sounded from each girl, and Mayrin gently shushed them. "Your father's right. It's already past your bedtime, and you have a big day tomorrow."

"We do?" They all tilted their heads curiously.

Kam'lu grinned. "Yes! It'll be a nice sunny day tomorrow, and I figured what better way to spend it than to take all of you out on the ship for the afternoon."

"So the sooner you go to sleep, the sooner morning will come, and we can ready ourselves accordingly." Mayrin collected her daughters into her arms as she spoke, tucking them each into their respective beds and kissing them goodnight. Kam'lu went around to do the same, saying quiet Sifan prayers under his breath as he did so.

When they were finally laid to rest, Mayrin quietly stepped out of the room, holding the door open for her mate to join her in the hallway.

"Well, let it never be said that I didn't marry a halfway decent storyteller." She jested, elbowing Kam'lu in the side. "Better than I could have told it anyway."

"Ah, so you finally admit I'm better than you at something. Never thought I'd live to see the day." He grinned smugly.

Mayrin popped him on the shoulder. "Don't let it go to your head now. You're a better storyteller than you are a captain, let's put it that way." She ribbed him teasingly. Then she began to saunter ahead of him towards their bed chambers.

"Come, the hour is late and I could use some shut-eye myself."

Kam'lu watched her go at first, making sure her back was completely turned to him before responding.

"Right away, my All Maudra."

In one fluid motion Kam'lu came up behind Mayrin and swept her up into a bridal carry, walking her the rest of the way with a big smile on his face.

She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter lest she wake the children.

He couldn't see it, but she was wearing a grin big enough to rival his.

[the-darklings]

Give us all the vampire au we didn't know we needed

𝙑𝘼𝙈𝙋𝙄𝙍𝙀!𝘼𝙐:【01】| 【02】| 【2.5】|

.

“Ah, the woman I have heard so much about,” a silky, accented voice purrs from the folds of the shadows. “They say molten poison flows through your veins, Vipress. They say my kind finds that poison irresistible. Their sweet undoing. Hm, such a shame. They did not tell me you were beautiful, too.”

Such flattery. But vampires often have silver tongues. Some can bewitch mind and body with nothing more than a few carefully measured, enticing sentences.

A flutter of air against the curve of your neck and you spin. Your blade—holy and blessed by Winston himself, bestowed with all the divine power the old man believes the Holy Rite grants—hisses against that golden skin.

He is not what you expected.

You’ve heard tales of the D'Antonios before. The oldest vampire family in the world. The purest, most potent blood flows through their veins. The power that comes with that is indisputable. Terrifying. 

Camorra is an empire of the supernatural world. 

Many seek shelter under Giovanni D'Antonio and his endless, ancient power. 

Few are ever granted it, and even fewer survive the pit that is Camorra. Even the supernatural are not immune to eternal death.

Vampires, werewolves, wraiths, fae—they’re just some of the creatures said to dwell in Camorra’s ranks.  

The vampire prince before you looks like a golden dream, however. 

Unlike his father who carries darkness in his every step, even unlike his sister who is a seductive, cold princess of the undead, Santino D'Antonio looks like he belongs in the light. 

His skin is sun-kissed, his eyes vivid green and his dark hair curly and wild. 

Green. 

You’re so used to seeing that muted, rusted red in every vampire’s stare that for the briefest second it gives you a pause. 

“Do you think you can kill me, bella?” he wonders softly, mockingly. “You are…tempting but I am not so easily swayed.“ 

The silver blade, etched with holy runes scorches against his skin but the vampire prince only grins; a caress, sensuous and slow. His eyes drag over your features. 

“I could care less about your pride, vampire.”

He leans closer and your knees tremble. He’s strong. So strong that he makes your strength seem slight by comparison. But you are far from helpless. 

“I wonder,” he hums quietly, leaning even closer and you jerk back but his next words still tickle against the curve of your cheek. “Do you taste as delicious as they say, hm? Perhaps one of your holy blades would be a worthy price to pay for a…taste.”

Your foot drives into his knee and you swipe another blade free, aiming both towards his chest but he catches your arms in a deadly grip, pulling you closer. A snarl bubbles at the back of your throat. 

“If you kill me, you’ll have Johnathan Wick to deal with.”

The deadliest Holy Hunter there is. 

Even shadows fear and hiss his name in terror. 

The Boogeyman. 

The one individual every dark thing fears. 

Santino D'Antonio’s quick, long fingers brush away a strand of loose hair from your cheek and he chuckles. The sound is unfriendly, but it still manages to feel like a stroke, like those elegant fingers trailing down your senses. 

The blood in your veins—that honeyed poison the prince spoke of—hums and hums and hums at his presence. It hums whenever any vampire appears close but with him….it’s a roar. Such a loud one it takes substantial effort to focus. 

“Ah, yes, Johnathan,” the vampire before you speaks, letting go. A blink and he’s gone from sight. It’s a game to him, you realise. He finds entertainment in this little chase. You imagine eternity can get pretty boring. You’re unsure how old the prince is but you know he’s the younger of the two heirs. “I had the displeasure of encountering him several times over the last few decades. Not one for chatter. How unfortunate. Such stories about you two though.“ 

Your head snaps behind you and you find the vampire prince lounging on the sofa, his legs crossed and expression bored. He inspects his nails, golden Camorra ring gleaming on his hand. Every inch of him reeks of arrogance. 

His head lifts, slanting, and his lips quirk upwards. It’s a tickle of a smirk but it’s laced with fine cruelty. Scorn, even. 

“Some say you are friends,” he continues easily, but something dark lingers across his features. “Others say you are lovers. Which is it, hm?”

Your feet sound dull against the cold cobblestone as you stalk closer towards the vampire, ignoring his question. 

His eyes flicker towards you, and there is hunger there. You know you appeal to him. That’s the whole point of you. You exist to lure them in and kill them. Prince or not, D'Antonio is still driven by hunger, by instinct. 

He can’t hide it from you. 

“How did they make you, I wonder?” he murmurs and his voice is lovely if you are to allow yourself such a kind thought. “To make you so deadly? What wretched things did they put you through to make sure you can hunt that which does not die? I bet it hurt, no?”

He’s chatty. Most of his kind would be spitting curses and trying to kill you by now. Half-boredom and half-arrogance. You suppose he doesn’t get a chance to converse with your kind often. If at all. You’re food. The enemy. 

“I had the Holy Text etched onto my back when I was twelve.”

You have nothing to hide. It had made you what you are. It’s what gave you that pull, that poison, that courses through you. It’s what made you special just like Jardani. Two of a kind. Best of the best. 

The vampire stills. 

It’s that unnatural, stifling kind of stillness that no living thing is quite capable of. 

“What?”

A soft, cutting knife. The spark of shock—fury—that glints in his eyes for just a second surprises you. Why would he care? 

At the church, they called it the Making. 

When the High Priest deems one worthy of ascending into the Hunter ranks, they are taken to the catacombs below the Holy Church and laid on their stomach where every priest lays a blessing on their skin by cutting into it with wax and ink and knives. 

Those too weak to bear it die right after. 

If you survive, you become a Hunter. Tasked with only one thing: eradication. 

In the last several decades, you and Jardani have been the only ones to survive the Making. Only ones blessed with skills that rival the dead and the undead, the foul and the dark.

You don’t remember much from your Making. Just screaming and the heat and stench of sweat and blood. And through it all, Winston’s fingers gripping your own even though he’s not supposed to, and his quiet promise that it will be over soon. 

Fortis fortuna adiuvat. Jardani’s words. Fortune favours the brave. 

Under the vampire’s harsh, disbelieving stare, your own words seem to itch. 

Ego sum qui ferrum mundum emunda. Your clothes scrape against your back and the vampire stares at you like he can see right through you. I am the blade that will cleanse the world. 

“Is that what your church does?” the vampire demands and his stare is terrible, furious. “Carves up little children so they have a slight chance of opposing my kind? How pathetic and desperate you have all become. Accept your place in the world, bella. This scrambling is ceaseless. No matter how many you save, I will kill a hundred more. For every divine deed, a thousand more unholy, sinful things will be committed. It will never end. And you will be dead. Sooner or later, hm? It shall all end the same. And it will be as if you never existed.”

He rises to his feet, all ethereal grace but deadly intent, and your fingers around the twin blades tighten. You tell yourself that a shiver that races down your spine and the knot that forms in your chest has nothing to do with his words and everything to do with the fact that you can feel his poorly leashed power rumbling through the air instead. 

“Do you think your church will remember you? Thank you? Do you?” he demands, his tone cruel, and he moves towards you slowly even though you both know how fast he can be. He doesn’t want to hunt you. He wants you to hear him, you realise in a daze. “Do you believe that they will erect statues in your name and call you a Saint? No, amore mio, they will not. You are a tool and those are easily replaceable. You have no idea of your potential. Do you think you’re powerful now? Imagine what you can do with a gift of eternity.”

He comes to a stand before you. His green eyes glow in the dusky light and you hate yourself for the fact that you hesitate. 

Hesitate because you, too, have considered it before. Even mentioned it to Jardani in the past. 

Imagine if we were like them. Imagine us then. No one could stop us. 

Jardani’s eyes had dimmed then, his rough fingers against your cheek but the look in his eyes cautious. It is unwise to speak of such things, (Name). We are trying to hunt them, not become them. Do not speak of this again, especially around the priests. Or they will banish you. 

The glow in those green eyes, however, says that you could have it all and then some. 

You go straight for his non-existent heart. 

His fingers latch around your own, your blade scraping against his shirt, his chest. 

Santino D'Antonio grins; a crooked, sly thing. It kills some part of you that he looks knowing, wisely interpreting your hesitation for what it is: lack of certainty in your current path.  

He jerks your hand down and tugs you close, his cold breath a whisper against your clammy skin, “Think on my offer, amore,” he purrs, his words silk. “You do not have a bearing of a woman who settles for scraps when she can have the world.”

You blink and he’s gone. 

[useless12sstuff]

Short Stories #4

. 4 The Crossroads of Destiny

The large roof and deep eaves curved into sharp, intimidating lines while the bamboo walls reflected a blue hue, a symptom of the night, as the house on the hill stood aglow before me. Motionless, crisp air burned my lungs with each inhale and smelt like the dew filled grass. The bonsai tree is unnaturally still, as if realizing the gravity of tonight. Water from the fountain gushed but it, too, seemed muted, while the full moon serenaded this tranquil visage, molding an illusion of serenity. The deafening silence is unnerving, but I'm not here to be cowed. The weight of my cold katana on my back grounds me. I'm on a mission.

After picking the lock, I entered by sliding the main door open, a pleasant woody scent filled my nose. My entrance seemed to have alerted an elderly man. He stared at me, his ridiculous, white beard curling at the end, near the collar of his indigo yukuta, trying to make out my masked face in the semi darkness. How unfortunate. For him. A quick slash from my katana and he is gone before he could make a sound. Before I could catch him, he fell with a loud thud, his throat spilling disgustingly, the copper scent of blood wafts in the air mixing with the incense. This seemed to have woken up other occupants on the ground floor. Doors slid open and men stepped out. I watch as horror fills their eyes, then understanding, then rage. One man grabs his tachi and lunges at me. Ah, wrong move. I dodge, hold my foot out and he trips and with a swift swing from me, his body jerks and he's out like a candle. I pick up his tachi with my other hand as more men trickle in to attack me. Dodge, parry, dodge again, leap, I use the wall as a support to leap again, using my knee I plow another in his groin, and swing, he goes down thrashing wildly. I swivel and clash my swords with yet another man, who jerks back from my abrupt motions. Using his momentary distraction, I surge forth, and elbow him in the face, then under the jaw, and finally a shattering blow to ribs. Blood splutters from his mouth and he wails, and I drive my trusted katana through his heart. An agonized shriek pierced through my haze but only barely. A raging duel has broken out. Now I was fighting four men at once, all of them shouting expletives at me. The children cowered while two women threw household items at me. The men are able-bodied, athletic and burly but my smaller, quicker frame gave me an advantage of speed and efficiency. I dodge the plate thrown at me and it hits one man behind me, in the face. I swivel and cut his head cleanly off his shoulders with the tachi. A man screamed in rage and ran towards me. I moved out his way and he slams against the wall, while another man lunges toward me holding his tanto straight. I knew then it would pierce my heart. I rolled under him and kicked him from the back and his tanto went through the back of the man who was still against the wall. Horror welled in his eyes and I deftly swung my katana at his jugular. As the saying goes, 'Hit two birds with one stone'. When the aggressive onslaught of attacks ended up hurting their own people or themselves, did the men realize what a formidable fighter I am. They are good, I admit, and they meet my expectations for a warrior family, but I, I'm a master and have been for decades. I take them all down one by one, effortlessly, my motions mechanical. Oh, these men were really good. I'm slightly out of breath, blood dribbles down my forehead and there's an ache in my muscles. Not an issue. I move towards the remaining women and the children. The fear in their eyes and their wrenching sobs almost make me pause. Almost. Alas, it must be done. I raise both swords and swing. Blood splatters on the bamboo walls, on the tatami mat flooring and on the Shōji attached to the wooden railing. The smell is unbearable down here, sweat, blood, other bodily fluids and incense combined together create an unholy stench which should be called an assault in and of itself. Wrinkling my nose, I drop the tachi and move forward.

I scour the house for any survivors. None remain. Good. I make my way upstairs and eliminate all those hiding. Barely feeling my heart beating, I slide the door to the last room. The mother screams and shields the child with her body. One cut and she too spills crimson at my feet. And oh. How I waited and plotted and planned for this moment. The bane of my existence, stares at me with large eyes, darker than the sky. So this is the infamous "child of the prophecy". This weakling. The child stares, I sneer back. To think this silly creature could do me harm, is frankly laughable. I raise my katana to swing, I pause and my arm drops. I lift my arm again and the sudden realization of what I'm about to do, what I just did, crashed down on me. I am hesitating. Why? I already killed the family without remorse, why is this so difficult?! The child stares and stares and I want to end him so badly, yet….

A sudden wisp of black and white smoke gathers around my feet. The child falls unconscious in his crib instantly. Yelping, I take a few steps back and hold my katana in a defensive position. Two unearthly beings, the white one a few steps ahead to my right and the black one a few steps ahead to my left. Terror strikes my heart like lightning. Was this what the prophecy meant? Is this my end? As the smoke cleared, I gasped, my sword falling with a clatter. Me?! These creatures wore my face, but no…. I can see a difference. The one on my left, was pale as the moon outside, and held a perpetual, cocky smirk, while the eyes had a glint sharper than my katana. Clothed in a kimono as pale as its skin, this creature seemed to glow, but it had a curious black spot on its forehead, in between the two milky eyes. It's companion, however, was the opposite. Glistening, pure black skin, and an ebony kimono, made the white spot on its forehead more pronounced. It's expression was stern, and shrewd but its shadowy eyes were watchful and old. It seemed to have sucked all the shadows around it. In essence they had my features but in different shades. As formidable as their presence felt, they created a rather bewitching sight. The being in white looks charming and enticing, a delicate elegance to its movements, while the being in black looks so divine and mesmerizing, its stature refined and striking.

"Hello Human", the white one grinned, it's voice-my voice but airy and seductive,"I am your Yang and this is my companion", Yang gestured to the other,"Yin". Yin, however did not speak, just kept me under its watchful gaze.

"Are you my punishment?" I murmured.

"No.",Yin finally spoke, it's voice clear and firm, "We are your conscious, and I am here to convince you to make the right choice."

"Oh please my darling Yin, and human," Yang adds as an afterthought, "there is only a choice and what you do with it. Right and wrong are subjective."

Yin scoffs and rolls its eyes. Yang tiptoes over to me, each slight step made it look like it was floating rather than touching the ground. It picks up my sword, slings its arm over my shoulder and pushes my katana in my blood coated hands.

"Go ahead, do it. Kill the child, you know he's a liability to the empire you spent ages building." Yang whispered in my ear.

"If you have an ounce of humanity left in you will put down that sword!"roared Yin. "You have slaughtered his family! Now he will definitely come for you because YOU put that prophecy in motion!"

"Now, now Yin, let's not lose our tempers," Yang soothes,"the prophecy was put in motion against our human's judgement. No point crying over spilt milk is there? What we need now is for our human to kill-"

" -There will be no killing." Yin interrupts, snarling.

"We'll see." Yang bites back and turns to me, one arm still over my shoulder, the other forcing my katana in my hand.

"I-well-I can't let this child live!" I sputter out. "I've spent over a century building it from the ashes that my father", I spit, "caused. I cannot let my work go to waste!"

"That's more like it!" Yang exclaims, a sharp grin dancing across its mouth.

"Not let your work go to waste!?" Yin bellows. "Surely you do realize, if you proceed you will become the same person your father was! Have you forgotten what he has done!?"

I flinch back from Yin's words and my old scar, racing down from my jugular till my heart, tingles.

"You set that prophecy in motion, now you deal with the consequences that come with it." Yin clenches its teeth and forces out, self righteous anger held with scarce restraint.

"Well, so what? Morality is dubious at best." trills Yang, while deftly skirting around the cold body of the mother." Yes the prophecy is in motion and what of it? Just end the boy. There will be no issue of him, ah, 'hunting you down for sweet revenge'. Murder makes everything easier." A sly grin appears on its face. "As you proved downstairs."

"Enough of this. The least you can do is compensate the boy for the loss you caused. If you murder that child, will you able to live with yourself?" Yin inquires, soulful eyes knowing.

Yang comes to an abrupt halt, its face twisted, as it looks towards Yin, who hadn't moved an inch from its position.

"Must you always complicate situations?" it sneers, then turns towards me, suddenly cold and demanding, "Human, kill that child."

"No! Spare the child!"

"I said kill the child!"

"And I said spare the child!"

"Kill the child!"

"Spare the child!"

"Kill the child!"

"Spare the child!"

"ENOUGH!" I erupt, and fall to my knees. Tears of frustration and uncertainty well in my eyes. Both beings, taken aback, turn to look at me. I hold my head in my hands, and soon enough, sobs wreak my body, my shoulders shaking.

Yin's lip curls as it stares down at me.

"So this is what the 'Great Leader' does whenever faced with a difficult situation." it sneers. "Cry."

"I do not wish to be like my father", I sob, my voice hoarse, "I wished for peace and security for me and my people, and then this-this prophecy came along and ruined it for me. This child-you don't understand-this child is destined to be my fall! All that I worked so hard on, I can not let it turn to dust. I just-" my voice breaks off, gut wrenching sobs ascend to heaves.

The beings watch me carefully, quietly, none moving till I calmed down.

"Human." Yin spoke, its voice firm and somber, thrummed in me like residual vibrations from a gigantic church bell. I lift my head. Yin and Yang stared back at me without blinking. An unnerving silence hung in the air.

"You are at the crossroads of destiny." Yang crooned, at last. My blood smeared katana laid in front of me, a trickle of moonlight gleaming on the visible metallic parts. Yin and Yang, then speak to me, in a voice of one,

"What will you choose?"

________________End_______________

In life we often come across crossroads, hopefully none as severe as this, in which we have to choose between desire and morality.

Yin is harsh and unyielding but the white spot on its forehead shows the good in difficulty, the emotional and mental strength it takes to do what is right. It shows the beauty of struggle and the iron fist you must wield to abide by morality.

Yang, on the other hand, is seductive, fluid and ever changing. It shifts from place to place, with a ruthless callousness and it is, often, rather flimsy. It shows the temptation of selfishness, of the desire to take and never give.

The most difficult battles, in truth, are varying shades of gray, rather than just black and white.

The ending is left open for the readers to interpret as they wish and to ask themselves the big question,

"What will YOU choose?"

[sweet-sammy-kisses]

You’re the Only Sweet I Want

JayTim Week Day Prompt 2: Fairy Tale/Disney Princess You can also read it on AO3

"Don't you have some Outlaw business to do or something?" Tim had lost count how many times he had asked Jason that. Okay, that was a lie he had asked Jason that every day for the last two weeks since the day he found Jason waiting outside his shop for him.

A shit-eating grin appeared on Jason's face, he was loving the little tick Tim was developing and the faint blush that no matter how hard he tried to fight it. He knew that Tim was enjoying his flirting. "No can do baby bird. Kory and Roy are having a blast catching up with Raven and Gar. And do you want to tell Lian that she can't hang around Bart anymore?"

Tim blanched, Lian had managed to wrap Bart around her little finger, and together the two had become unholy terrors who had no problems in unleashing their doe-eyes on them. It was hard to say no.

Tim was certain that Lian was going to rule the world when she got older.

"We should have never let them meet." Tim groaned in dismay even his former assassins weren't immune to her charm. Owens adored Lian and he got along scary well with Roy, the two of them liked to have sharpshooting contest over at the Titian tower with Gar, Bart, and Conner as judges. Raven and Kory were still as close as ever and it did Lian and Cassie and when she came to visit Cass to have them in their lives. Even Pru was dragged into shopping trips and spa days thanks to Lian's pout. Z and Jason struck up the most interesting of friendships. Tim didn't understand it, at least he had Conner who was just as baffled as he was.

"So why are you here Jason?" Tim asked after letting out a long drawn out sigh, it was better to find out what Jason wanted then he could focus on his baking. Even if it took him a while to calm down from Jason's flirting.

Tim ignored the scraping of a chair being pulled out that just meant that Jason was settling in for the long haul.

"Lian told me the most interesting story, I think you will like it baby bird." Jason's voice was husky and growly it made Tim wonder if that is what he sounded like during sex.

"Oh, that's nice." Tim was on guard Jason had been finding different ways to flirt with him. He knew that Jason would tell him the story, he would pretend not to listen but they both knew he was hanging off every word.

"Once upon a time there was a handsome knight known as the Red Hood, he and his two friends the brave archer Arsenal and the beautiful princess Starfire were known as the Outlaws protectors of the innocent and kicker of bad guys asses."

Tim snorted he very much doubt that Lian said asses but there was no way Jason would say behind, not when he could swear without innocent ears around, and yes that included Bart a rule that was enforced the first time Bart copied Jason and swore, it was wrong to hear him do that. To the Titians Bart was their innocent son who should never say that kind of langue.

"Now the mighty and brave knight had a falling out with his family and went on his own. After all, he had defied death herself to come back. He vowed to do what was needed to ensure that no others were harmed as he had been. But it hadn't always been like that." Jason paused to take a deep breath.

"When he learned that his adopted father the great Dark Knight had let his killer live he was engulfed in hatred and rage and when he learned that he had been replaced by another he was consumed by rage that another innocent life could be cut short as his had been."

Tim's hands froze in the middle of kneading the dough and he could feel Jason's eyes on him.

"Now the knight had been tricked by an evil witch who had a hatred for the new and upcoming knight and she made sure that hatred was passed on to the Red Hood. The knight became consumed with taking down his replacement, to hurt the father that abandoned him and didn't avenge his death. He became twisted and did what he vowed never to do he harmed an innocent. One who had looked up at him and seen him as a hero."

That had Tim turning around to face Jason, he was certain that Jason didn't know of his hero-worship for him.

Any words that Tim might have said died on his lips at the look in Jason's eyes.

Pushing back the chair Jason climbed to his feet and walked closer to Tim, when there were only a few inches between them he continued his story, "With the help of his friends the knight eventually became free of the witch's curse and he saw the truth. The knight he thought had replaced him was more than a knight he was a prince of the stars, whose light saved the Dark Knight and brought light back into his life. The thing is no one realized that until the prince disappeared believed that he was unwanted and cast aside by hurtful actions that he was all of their light and with him gone so was the warmth he brought with him. So the handsome knight vowed that he would find the prince no matter how long it took, even if he needed to look for years, he would find his prince and bring back the light into his life."

Jason saw the realization dawning in Tim's eyes as he darted out his tongue to lick his lips.

"It took the knight five years but at last, he found his prince, he had become a baker using the skills he had learned at the hands of their kindly grandfather, who mourned and missed the prince almost as much as the knight did." Jason knew it was a low blow bringing up Alfred like that, Alfred who had told Jason of how Tim had been so eager to help him any chance he could when he first became Robin and how Alfred had made it his mission to ensure that Tim knew how to take care of him when his parents left him alone.

"If Master Bruce wouldn't help Master Timothy and returned him to his empty house then I made sure that Master Tim knew how to look after himself. He always made my kitchen all the much brighter with his wide smile and eyes that lit up when I asked him to help me out."

Alfred's words haunted Jason, he hadn't known about Tim's parents and once he looked into them he had been appalled by them, they had no right to call themselves parents and he hadn't been too happy with Bruce for allowing Tim to return night after night to that empty place.

"Now the prince had experienced loneliness and being abandoned and he thought it was only natural to be cast aside but he had no clue as to how wrong he was. He was wanted and loved by those who had hurt them. When the knight found him it was clear that the prince had made a new family and they were loyal to him and wouldn't leave him behind. Now the knight didn't know what to do because his heart longed to have a place in the prince's life, to have a piece of his love that he gave so freely to his new family. That love the prince had once offered him only for the knight to toss it away."

While he had been speaking Jason had moved closer and now there was but an inch of space between him and Tim, and he desperately wanted to reach out and pull Tim into his arms.

"What did the knight do?" Tim asked in a soft voice, that if Jason hadn't been so close he would have missed.

"The knight vowed to show the prince that he had changed and that if he gave him a chance the knight would prove to the prince how much he cared for him. The knight wondered if the prince would say yes if he asked him on a date to prove himself to him."

"YES!" Tim blurted out much to his horror and felt his face heat up.

Thrown it took Jason a moment to realize that Tim had said yes to his date, "Are you sure baby bird, I don't want to force you into anything you don't want."

Being asked on a date but his first crush and first love had been everything Tim had dreamed of when he first realized what he was feeling for Jason. "I'm sure Jason."

Jason's lips curled up into a smile that lit up his face before it turned into a sinful smirk that made Tim's knees weak, "Then baby bird be prepared to be swept off your feet. I will give you a night you never forget." Jason promised.

Tim had little doubts about that and he found he couldn't wait.

"I'll pick you up at seven, that should give you enough time prince." Giving Tim a wink Jason exited the kitchen.

Tim nearly collapsed as he heard the bell signal that Jason had left, "What the hell am I going to wear?"