#holy soldiers that are nothing more than boys and so ready to die for this cause because its the right thing and the honorable thing

[sunset-peril]

Shiptober 2021 - Day 1 - Enemies

Yeah, I guess I'll just start back posting old stuff. Yeah, this is what prompted my random -tober thoughts.

My 2021 stuff swings from "I like it a lot" to "ehhhh" and there's not much in between. Might hold true to current lore, might not, I make no guarantees. A lot of the short stories I wrote after finishing Trial were... experiments. I dunno, I still think Link and Astor's spat is funny.

I do not see this pair romantically in any way, and this prompt has nothing true to do with romance. I saw the word "enemies" and went "yeah, why not?" I received some pretty high praise for it when it was released so I guess it's not bad haha. Also related to this Trial of the Zora Armor lore from earlier

~~~

The Shiptober chart -

Day Number: 1

Ship: Zelda/Astor

Plot focuses on romance/shipping? No.

~~~

There he stood, at the burning entrance of the hideout, surrounded by the crisp bodies of his evil brethren.

There she stood, in the shadow of the Divine Beast, illuminated with the holy symbols of her ancestor. 

His master was dead. 

She bowed to no one. 

"Here we are, yet again… how does it feel to be bound by something beyond your control? Your fate is sealed, the power so critical to your usefulness will not shine until it's too late."

"Your words are a coward's!"

"I am not the coward. A coward, aware of their uselessness, would weaponize every step they made with a vicious bark, no matter the bite. To cover your advances with a Divine Beast, and to cover your retreat with the world's greatest warriors.. tell me, Zelda, who is the real coward?" 

"I am your princess!"

"You are sorely mistaken. You are nothing more to me than a pest that was to die long ago. There is no blasted Sheikah maid to save you now…"

A small whimper escaped her throat.

His cruel smile widened. 

They both pointed a finger at the other. "Finish them!"

Naboris blinded the Canyon once more, or so it would seem. As Zelda stood, ready for the blast to cease, she was tackled by the enemy.

He pinned her body down with his, knowing she could not fight back. "Your destiny is to fail. There is nothing that can alter it." He caressed her hairline, knowing it would distract and confuse the young woman. "Hylia is full of lies… as are you. However…" He switched sides. "If you were to join us, I'm sure Calamity Ganon would pardon your life…"

She tried to tear away, finding his weight was more force than she could produce. The footsteps of soldiers and their clashing weapons grew deafening on both sides. 

"It doesn't have to be this way, Zelda… All this fighting and violence… and you must remember…" He leaned close enough to touch his lips to her ear. "Your ancestors are the reason we're here…"

Zelda's voice shuddered and her fight gave way, just in time for the blazing blue to fade. 

"So you understand what you've done. Good girl." He gripped the same ear he'd spoken into and yanked her head until she turned to his side. "So you see what you must do?"

A blur and tan blur rushed over and Zelda felt the weight release. A few seconds passed before she became reoriented, and turned her head to the snarling on her left. 

Her personal bodyguard was on all fours, teeth bared as he glared into the enemy's eyes. 

The enemy kept a calm smile. "Hello, wolf boy. This," He flicked a finger against Link's forearm. "This does not faze me. You are not the first chosen hero to be linked to the wild." Only then did he seem startled. "Oh, I'm sorry," His surprise disappeared. "No pun intended."

Link opened his mouth, a snarl from deep in his throat was heard. "Get lost, Astor," He pushed down on his prey in a way similar to what Zelda had just experienced. "before I make sure you never get on a woman like that again."

"Hmm, for a hero, that was an awfully violent threat. Are you sure your heart is pure? Wouldn’t it be more like I, to neuter you like the dog you are?"

Link slammed his fingernails into Astor's throat.

With his other hand, Astor threw something into Link's face. While Link reared, he darted. 

Zelda turned to her right to find Impa. "Princess! Oh, Hylia and the Golden Goddesses, did he hurt you?"

"No…" She hated how weak her voice sounded. She turned over again. Link was gone; in hot pursuit of the man who had attacked her.

"Come here, Princess. We'll get you back to the Castle." She helped Zelda up and quickly removed her from the battle, which was fading after many were either distracted by the tussle between their leaders or cut down as Link raced towards his princess.

On the way back, Zelda confided in Impa about what had happened, what Astor did, what he'd said and how she still felt. 

Impa consoled softly, careful not to get too close to her upset princess.

Urbosa had found Link out in the desert a while later, and returned him to the party. After his return, he stuck to Zelda's side like a possessive Hylian Retriever. He mentioned that the Gerudo had experienced what could only be described as premonitions regarding Astor, one where he'd taken over Zelda's throne, and that he'd tear him to shreds a thousand times over if it would keep Zelda safe.

With both in mind, Impa reported the battle to King Rhoam with a single warning.

Hyrule had discovered a dangerous foe indeed.

~~~~

Hyrule's Final Stand Masterlist

[geniedocroe]

Oh goody, could I request something with George “the love of my life” Luz please?? I’ve read a couple of fics that are about him being insecure about being good enough for reader, and like personally it would be *me* who’s insecure cause holy hell is that man like perfect. So basically, I was wondering if you’d be up for writing something where Luz and reader feel like they’re not good enough for each other and it’s kinda angsty until they both start talking and are like “you think you’re not good enough for me??? Um, have you met yourself you’re fucking amazing” and it becomes super fluffy and sweet? Idk if that makes sense or not 😅😅

ALL I WANTED

(george luz x reader)

angst?, fluff

To you, George Luz was utterly perfect. It hadn’t been love at first sight (even though George swears that it was). Falling for him seemed to happen overnight. One day you had just woken up and poof! It was as if you had finally opened your eyes and saw George clearly for the first time. He made your heart swell ten times its size. You practically drooled over him.

Unbeknownst to yourself, George had been in love with you too. He was the definition of heart eyes. I mean, he followed you around like a lost puppy. George Luz was a bold man. He flirted when he could, but never with you. He was polite and sweet. George stayed away from the innuendos when he spoke to you. To him, you were different. You were never just a girl he would see once or twice. George wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. You felt incredibly lucky.

The two of you had fought in a war together. You slept in the dirt, blood, and the occasional shrapnel. You saw your best friends die right in front of your eyes. That was something you could never come back from. Neither of you would ever recover. People had called it shell shock. You were too unsure to put a label on it, but it was definitely something you suffered from. The nightmares were unbearable and you were jumpier than ever. If you had shell shock, then so did George. It was hard to tell which one of you suffered more.

It felt like a century since the first time George asked you out. Easy had just arrived in England. The weather had been horrid that day. It seemed to rain for weeks on end. You couldn’t hear yourself think over the sound of raindrops against the pavement. Sobel had made the company train in the mud (typical). Honestly, you thought you were going to get hypothermia or something. By the end of the day, every soldier in Easy Company was soaked to the bone and completely covered in mud. George had never loved you more. Somehow covered in mud and shaking like a leaf, you were laughing like nothing had happened. He asked you out just after you slipped on the wet porch of your billet. It was perfect.

You didn’t know when you had gotten so insecure about your relationship. All of your fellow enlisted soldiers were either quickly married or sleeping around. You trusted George, but there was a war on. Desperate times bring out the worst in some people. George never set his sights on anyone other than you, you just didn’t know it. Another part of you was eager to marry him. Though, you didn’t want it to be rushed. A brief, two second wedding was not your style and of course, George wanted his family there.

Deep, deep down, rooted into your stomach, was some sort of commitment issues that had no trace. You had no idea where they came from, but boy where they strong. It wasn’t difficult to commit to George. You couldn’t explain the way you felt. You wanted nothing but to be with him. Yet you were so afraid of him leaving you or seeing the worst in you or finding out something he wouldn’t like. What an awful way to live.

It had been a very normal night when George broke down beside you. Just as you were getting ready to crawl into bed, George took one look at his life around him and he shattered. For a moment, you had frozen. The sudden outburst startled you so violently that you almost began to cry out of fear. That must’ve been the shell shock.

“George . . . ?” You approached him hesitantly. There was never an appropriate way to approach a crying person. Everyone was different.

“I’m - I’m so, so, so, sorry.” He choked out, shaking his head in shame. He sat on the edge of the bed with his fingers running through his fluffy (but messy) hair.

“Wha-“

“You don’t need this right now. I’m such an idiot.”

“George-“ Your eyes were wider than dinner plates.

“Look, y/n-“

He opened his eyes as your placed your hands delicately around his wrists, pulling his hands away from his hair. For a moment, you saw a child. So much fear and anger and grief were hidden behind his eyes. It was what he saw in your own.

“What is going on? You can talk to me.” You spoke softly after gently wiping away a tear from his cheek.

He stared down at your now intertwined hands. You knew he was struggling. When George hurt, he became silent. He would completely shut down. No one could ever pull him out of it. He did it to hide his tears. You knew that because when he spoke after a period of silence, that was when the tears started to fall.

“George, please. I want to help you.”

“You don’t deserve this. You don’t need to come home everyday and see me like this.” He spat out the last word. The tone of his voice held so much shame. “I want you to have better.”

“Oh, don’t be silly. I don’t want better. I want you.” There was a sharp intake of air from George that mimicked a laugh. “I wouldn’t want this any other way. I love you. I love the George Luz. The only guy who can make me laugh until I almost pee myself. You are the only person that has complimented me and not the way I look. You’re so over the top and dramatic that it makes me want to wake up everyday. George, I - I wouldn’t be here without you. I mean that with every inch of my being. You are far too good for me. Any other person would’ve already walked out on me, but you haven’t.”

He sat completely still for a moment, still avoiding eye contact. “You think I’m too good for you?”

“C’mon George, you’re perfect.”

“But - but, you’re perfect.”

“We are not having this argument again.”

“Because I win every time.”

“Nuh-uh. Not happening.”

“Seriously, y/n, I love you. I could never thank you enough for making me the person I am today. You - it’s true, I also wouldn’t be here without you. Believe when I say that I love you more than anything. Thank you for wanting me around.”

“Thank you for sticking around.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 276: Our Turn to Save You

Previously on BnHA: In a refreshing change of pace from the usual “the adults refuse to tell the kids anything” shtick, Deku and Kacchan flew around trying to get Tomura’s attention while refusing to explain jack shit to Endeavor! Deku eventually thought to ask Kacchan why he was getting in on this, and Kacchan launched into a two-page Denial Speech which seemed expressly designed to prime him for losing his quirk any fucking second now! Tomura then showed up and the two of them were all “KJSDLFK” but thankfully Gran dove in to rescue them from dying INSTANTANEOUS HORRIBLE DEATHS, and reminded them that there are practically SIX WHOLE GROWN-UPS left who can definitely still fight Tomura and won’t die at all!! And one of those grown-ups is Aizawa! Who’s getting ready to fight Tomura now! Listen Horikoshi you fucker, when I asked for more Aizawa angst and badassery this ISN’T WHAT I –

Today on BnHA: Tomura is all “THIS QUIRK WON’T STOP ME BECAUSE I CAN’T READ” and sort of shrugs it off and continues to kick ass even though his Decay and AFO powers aren’t working. The pros all try to stop him with Endeavor taking the lead, and because THEY ALL SUCK, APPARENTLY, nothing they do is effective in any way whatsoever! Meanwhile Gran dumps Deku and Kacchan off and is all “YOU’LL BE FINE HERE” which is the most ridiculous thing anyone in this manga has ever said, and then pretty much as soon as he says it at least nine more High Ends (excuse me, NEARLY High Ends) just POP UP OUT OF NOWHERE and are all “RARR” and the heroes are all “oh shit” and Tomura is all “lol yeah I actually had more High Ends this whole time” and Ujiko is all “it’s true!��� and, fuck. The chapter ends with Tomura charging in to kill Aizawa only to be intercepted by MY TWO PRECIOUS BABIES, MY DARLING LITTLE HERO HATCHLINGS, and...!! I blame Gran for this.

gotta say, my sense of time is distorted enough as it is these days without chapter leaks coming out A WHOLE ENTIRE DAY EARLY out of nowhere. not that I’m complaining, because I want to see Aizawa kick some ass & immediately lose his fucking quirk as much as anyone, but it is disorienting

anyway time to dive into this chapter which I predict will be titled “everything instantly goes horribly wrong.” I’ve had a lot of time these past two weeks to think about what is going to happen next, and I’m pretty sure I nailed it you guys

so we’re opening with a familiar sight

I like that Horikoshi thinks that helicopters go “chop chop.” well, close enough

anyway, so yet again we have a scene in BnHA of a town in the process of being destroyed by villains while a helicopter whirs (WHIRS, Horikoshi) and chuffs (SOMETIMES THEY CHUFF TOO) anxiously nearby. I wonder if this helicopter is going to fucking disintegrate. that’d be something new

ARE YOU GOING TO DIE, MISTER LIVE REPORTER SIR. OH MAN. OH GOD I’M ANXIOUS

dozens, you guys! there are dozens of them left! not to worry then. the good guys definitely still got this

oh hey it’s that news anchor with the cutely fucked-up backstory of chopping off his own horn so as to more handsomely report the news

oh god don’t tell me this whole thing is going to be broadcast live. that’s all we fucking need right now. I wonder what’s going to throw society into chaos more, the reveal of just how powerful Tomura is now, or the exposure of what the government-mandated child soldiers get to do during their super-educational practical on-the-job training! no coffee-fetching for these kiddos! we’ve got ‘em rolling up their sleeves and getting their hands good and dirty!

oh hey and it looks like this means that All Might will get to watch protege #2 lose his quirk live on TV -- HEY WHAT ARE YOU SERIOUS

BAD BABYSITTER!! MY GOD MAN, I KNOW YOU’RE THE INDULGENT GRANDFATHER TYPE, BUT MAYBE CONSIDER CHANGING THE CHANNEL TO DOC MCSTUFFINS FOR THE TIME BEING??!

also I know this is just a perspective thing probably but lmao his hand on her shoulder is fucking huge. All Might you been working out again

but seriously this is not good for either of them to witness. they don’t need more trauma in their lives! All Might doesn’t need yet another thing to blame himself over! and he has conflicted feelings about Tomura still on top of that which I’m sure isn’t going to make this any easier. ANGST ALL AROUND. EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK, EVERYWHERE YOU GOOOO

MOTHERFUCKER I --

is Mitsuki looking at fucking baby pictures of Kacchan. reliving the memories of the good old days, thinking about how far her baby boy has come and how proud she is. that’s just great you guys. that’s just fucking great. these aren’t even red flags at this point these are red fucking tapestries

(ETA: and this basically goes without saying, but I’m sure the fact that not one but THREE Todorokis are represented in this little montage means that Endeavor and Shouto are also going to be just fine.)

:)

HE’S SO HAPPY just fucking try and tell me he doesn’t have a mental fucking link to Tomura and Deku you guys. this bitch knows exactly what is going down right now and he is LIVING FOR IT. that does it. someone please save my spot in the chapter for me I am going to go take a quick walk to calm down

and of COURSE that’s a fucking lie though, god -- [frantically clicks to next page]

LOL HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS

FUCKING MANUAL IS HERE TO SAVE THE DAY LMAO. YOU CAN ALL FUCKING RELAX NOW. and fuck me, I’m so fucking happy RockLockRock is still alive as well but WHY ARE YOU STANDING RIGHT NEXT TO AIZAWA IN WHAT I LIKE TO CALL THE “CAUTION: YOU WILL GET SHOT” ZONE. swear to god Horikoshi THAT MAN HAS A FAMILY don’t you even think about -- !!

sigh, anyway so then the rest of the page is panels of Gran & The Boys, Endeavor, and Tomura, along with the text “WHICH SIDE IS THE VICTOR”, which is not helping matters any! also the title of the chapter is “Cheating” which I assume is a reference to both the erasure of Tomura’s quirk, and the soon-to-happen permanent removal of Aizawa’s. I’m just an optimist like that

oh hey and Tomura’s sending out some quick orders to his squad as well

and to think this homicidal maniac is in my top ten favorite characters. sob. I do love you kiddo so please don’t take it personally that I have to unequivocally root against you here. maybe if you listened to me once in a while and would even just consider my radical alternate plan of not killing anyone in sight

anyway lol but here everyone including myself thought he was going straight for the bullets and instead he was pulling out his phone. shows what we know. [braces myself for the follow-up panel of him putting the phone away again and THEN reaching for the bullets!!]

meanwhile we’re being introduced to some new sidekick of Endeavor’s who’s probably going to set the record for shortest time in between being introduced and dying horribly. sorry Kido. I’m just jaded

don’t mind me I’m just putting up emotional walls in between myself and any new lovable characters as a means of self-preservation. mmhmm. he can manipulate the trajectory of things. that’s nice. he seems nice. wouldn’t that be a nice quirk for Tomura to steal and then trajector a bullet straight towards Aizawa ffffff

(ETA: watch this space, everyone. Endeavor’s Sidekick Kido. gonna fuck everything up for everyone, mark my words.)

so I can’t help but notice that now that Tomura can’t use his quirk anymore and is helpless, they have all decided to just sit around doing nothing again?

like. far be it from me to openly wonder why they are not immediately knocking him out or setting him on fire again or whatnot. I am just a lowly civilian. it’s not my job to question these things

(ETA: I must learn to be patient.)

also lmao at Manual saying Aizawa’s ankle is “twisted”, similar to how Deku is constantly “twisting” all of his arms and legs all the time. or did he mean “twisted” in the sense that his leg was pretty much literally wrung out like a fucking towel

anyway so Manual is waterbending liquid into Aizawa’s eyes like that’s supposed to help him NOT close them

has Horikoshi ever had water splashed into his fucking eyes. he and I have had very different experiences as to the effects of this apparently

there we go!!

at least someone out here is fucking trying. for a second there I was honestly worried we were going to see a repeat of “oh well he seems dead enough, let’s just leave, see you at the victory party this weekend, X-Less”

LMAO WHAT KIND OF NONSENSE

[GRABS THESE PANELS AND WAVES THEM IN FRONT OF THE UNCONSCIOUS HAWKS] DID YOU HEAR THAT. DO YOU SEE THAT, BOYO. FACTS. BEING WEAK TO FIRE IS, IN FACT, 100 PERCENT A CHOICE. IF YOU HAD JUST DONE MORE PUSH-UPS AND TRAINED HARDER YOU WOULDN’T BE IN THIS SITUATION RIGHT NOW. SMDH. YOU FUCKING WIMP. YOU RECREANT. YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED

hooooh man. hokay. whew. has anyone seen my suspension of disbelief. I’m so used to having it on me at all times when I read this manga that I must have let my guard down and now it seems I’ve spaced it out. well we’ll just keep a lookout for it

so now we’re cutting to Ujiko who is gleefully bragging that Tomura’s strength is on par with All Might Prime’s, which is just great. and now he’s also starting this sentence and then just... not... finishing it

that’s fine. you just trail off, then. hang those implications. whatever dude

meanwhile RLR and Manny are helping Aizawa limp away while he awkwardly has to twist his neck around to be able to still keep Tomura in his line of sight. I feel like there was probably a better way for them to do this but whatever

anyway thanks for confirming that Ujiko did make Tomura into a Noumu in addition to giving him AFO, though, Horikoshi! that’s very nice of you to unsink one of my theories like that. appreciate it

and hold up, so it occurs to me that “Being Fireproof” could still be a quirk, but just a mutant-type quirk rather than an activation type, meaning that Erasure would have no effect on it! aha! oh, there’s my suspension of disbelief lol it was in my pocket the whole time!!

anyway so Endeavor and Tomura are tussling but I really wish they’d be more careful because if Tomura is still capable of super strength and super speed then he could propel himself out of Aizawa’s line of sight really easily and I feel like this isn’t really helping

is it just me or do they look like they’re TRYING to jump in between Aizawa and Tomura, like?!?! GUYS

LMAO now Gran is just

SHUP. toss. dusts off hands. well that takes care of that

and apparently he’s under the genuine impression that a mere “now stay put you dumdums” is going to have any effect on these two whatsoever. lol okay. we’ll see

anyways YESSSSS, KACCHAN MEET GRAN, GRAN, KACCHAN

meanwhile Kacchan falls silent as he mentally tries to work out who tf “Toshinori” is lmao. I’M SO CHUFFED ABOUT THIS. YES THAT’S ANOTHER USE OF THE WORD “CHUFFED.” VERY VERSATILE AND REMINISCENT OF HELICOPTER BLADES WHIRLING

and now here’s a convenient map showing how far away Deku and Kacchan are from safety!

thanks for that. that’s so reassuring to have this nifty little visual

OH MY GOD GRAN

DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE?? DOES EVERYONE IN THIS FUCKING ARC HAVE A DEATH WISH. MY GOD

“BUT FAR BE IT FROM ME TO LEAVE WITHOUT ANY OMINOUS FORESHADOWING!!” NO INDEED WE CAN’T HAVE THAT!!!

rather than focus anymore on how goddamn foreboding that is, I would instead like to take this moment to call attention to the fact that Gran apparently knows Bakugou’s name but not Present Mic’s. that’s amazing

sob

what good indeed. imagine if they couldn’t even do that. I imagine that would have some far-reaching consequences which might even be interesting to explore as part of a story

:O

I made the same face as them just now fyi

fucking Schrodinger’s High Ends. they only exist when the plot says it’s convenient for them to exist. maybe they’re like fairies and if you say you don’t believe in them they drop dead. where the fuck did these things actually come from?!

WAY TO DROP THE BOYS OFF IN THE MIDDLE OF NOUMU FUCKING CENTRAL MY GOOD MAN. MAYBE WE SHOULD SCROLL BACK UP AND UPDATE THAT MAP. GOOD JOB LMAO

WHAT THE FUCK

welp. they deleted Tomura’s quirk and then sent the strongest guy they had after him, annnnnnnd he went and beat him anyway in like two fucking seconds. so that’s. ... wowee. ...so do we have a plan b, or...

like, holy shit though?? and can you imagine the kind of psychological impact this is having on everyone watching this live on TV right now?? this is literally the anti-Kamino. holy fucking shit. also did Tomura lose an arm or am I just not understanding this image right?? NOT THAT IT SEEMS TO BE BOTHERING HIM IN THE SLIGHTEST??

(ETA: somehow I missed the fact that he is even calling attention to it lol. “I’ll raise [the other hand] when it’s back.” fucking look at Mr. Transcendent here who’s so powerful that when you tear his arms off all it does is make him more sassy. is he secretly related to Mirko.)

idk guys I really think my original chapter title was better

at least Endeavor isn’t fucking dead just yet. four more pages and you might actually make it out of this chapter alive my good man

blah blah blah flashback to Ujiko explaining that the Noumu could be activated by an electric current flowing through them, and that they’re programmed to move only on Tomura’s orders. you know. just more good news

oh hey but at least these ones are mindless so I guess it’s okay for the kids to kick their asses without feeling too conflicted. it’s just too bad “their strength is higher quality than the others” but you win some, you lose some

OH GOOD, THEY’RE GOING STRAIGHT FOR AIZAWA

I’M SURE THAT MIDORIYA “MY BODY MOVED BEFORE I COULD THINK” IZUKU AND BAKUGOU “I’M THE ONE WHO’LL GET PAYBACK FOR THAT DAY” KATSUKI WILL TAKE THEIR GRANDPA’S SAGE ADVICE AND GO AND HIDE WHILE THEIR TEACHER IS IN DANGER. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY’VE LITERALLY GONE TO SCHOOL FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR EXPLICITLY MAJORING IN NOT DOING THAT. YES THIS IS FINE THIS IS FUCKING FINE AND GREAT

NOW WHAT’S HAPPENING THERE’S LOTS OF RUBBLE FALLING AROUND AND STUFF MOVING AND SOMEONE IS TALKING

OH IT’S HIM

excuse me. EXCUSE ME. no, you are NOT. going to fucking die, Aizawa Shouta. HORIKOSHI KOUHEI!!! YOU’RE UNDER ARREST FOR THE CRIME OF DRAWING THIS FUCKING PANEL. THIS ONE, RIGHT HERE. YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. HOW DARE YOU. how FUCKING dare you sir

and if anything happens to RLR I SWEAR TO GOD!! you know what?! you know what?!?

STOP IT

[sitting curled up into a little ball with my knees drawn up to my chest, drawing little finger circles on the floor] I see. so he’s not even concerned about himself at all. it’s his two tiny little hero eggs, his problem children, and the fact that if he dies here there won’t be anything preventing Tomura from finding and killing them. ahh. okay. it’s okay. that’s fine

and goddammit what is he pulling out from his belt. everyone is on the same page here, right? Aizawa’s Not Allowed To Die. that was the deal. WHAT HAS THIS ALL BEEN FOR OTHERWISE

(ETA: yeah but he seriously did just pull a knife out of fucking nowhere though like the kid in that fucking vine lmao. APPARENTLY HE’S HAD IT THIS ENTIRE TIME?? “what if I just stabbed him” lulz. based on the way things were trending, I’m willing to bet it would have literally bounced off of Tomura’s chest at this point, but I’ll give him credit for making the effort.)

NOPE NOPE NOPE NO

(ETA: Shinsou being in the bottom corner... ;_; )

is anyone listening to me!??! I’m over here screaming myself fucking hoarse??! AIZAWA ISN’T FUCKING ALLOWED TO DIE??!! HELLO!?!?!

lol well at least RLR didn’t get steamrolled over

well everyone. we’ve reached page 18. one more to go. what are the odds we end with the boys arriving in the ta-da nick of time to defend their teacher. just who is watching over whom

THERE IT IS!!!

OH NO OH GOD AM I CRYING??! YOU HAD TO GO AND PUT THOSE FLASHBACK PANELS IN?? HIM SAVING DEKU AND CO. AT USJ, PLUS THAT ONE TIME HE DEFENDED BAKUGOU DURING HIS MOST VULNERABLE MOMENT IN FRONT OF A NATIONAL AUDIENCE??? “IT’S OUR TURN TO SAVE YOU”???

and they look so determined and desperate?? and the “Aizawa-sensei!” echoing in both their minds?? and meanwhile Aizawa looks fucking horrified though, because of all the... [gestures] you know? the Terrible Danger?? sob??

anyway. I really let this manga do this to me every damn week. let it just have its fucking way with me. at least Horikoshi didn’t end up breaking the law after all. I don’t know if I could continue to support a mangaka who is willing to commit an actual war crime. no touching Aizawa. OKAY?? OKAY

[ask-marcus-cally-and-ari]

Only Human

Chapter 15: Ride or Die

The trio had been allowed to wander while the Freaks discussed their next plan. Marcus, for his part, went looking for a cot or a bed. “I’m so f*cking tired.”

“We have a few spare beds in the medical ward,” a nearby intern piped up, looking up as Marcus passed her desk.

“Thanks.”

“My nephew talks about you a lot,” the intern added. “Jackie Ruez?”

“Our small forward. Nice guy,” Marcus smiled, sitting down. “I remember he didn’t know much English when he first started.”

“You and your friends tutored him, right?”

“That was all Cal. I just taught him basketball and Ari taught him how to paint.”

“He’s been painting a lot these days. “He went through 10 packs of watercolors in just three months.”

Marcus chuckled. “I remember swapping his acrylics with finger paint as a joke. He chased me all through school that day. I probably deserved it.”

“So that’s why he came home with paint all over his hands.”

“I had to wash my hair for an hour to get it all out.” Marcus smiled, and then sighed, a look of tiredness no teenager should have had on his face.. “...look, can you just... just tell him I’m okay?”

“Of course.”

“The last time I got in trouble, it was some kids from a nearby school who jumped me. My teammates tracked down each one, took some bats and metal pipes, and put them all in the hospital. In one night. I don’t want them doing anything like that now. They could get hurt, and on my mama, I bet those *ssholes would turn them just to f*ck with me.”

“You know, if you wanted you could ask Colonel Dyson to put them under HECU Protection. It’s like Witness Protection, just with a lot more security.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

The intern nodded and picked up the nearby phone. “Do you want to call him yourself or do you want me to put in the request?”

“I’d like you to do it. I want to call my team.”

“There’s a phone in the break room over there.” The intern gestured down the hall to Marcus’ right.

“Thanks.”

---

“Man, this sucks! Marcus is who-knows-where being hunted and we can’t do sh*t to help!”

A young teen, no more than 14, grumbled sourly to himself while kicking over a box of wood chips in an abandoned warehouse. Another kid, a few years older than him, looked up from their phone.

“I got a lead a few hours ago. From what I can gather, it looks like he was heading to HECU Headquarters. I don’t know if they’ve made it there yet, though.”

“What can we do? These are, like, supervillains! And we’re just teenagers!”

“We could track them. Cally has a bunch of brainiac friends. Get them together and have them start looking for those *ssholes,” a tall boy, likely 17, suggested.

“Maybe we should get some of Ari’s friends, too,” another kid added.

“Yeah. The more, the better.”

The kid with the phone sat up and started briskly typing away. “Guys, you’re not gonna believe this, but it looks like Marcus has some Freaks of his own. You guys know Spyper and Intelligent Heavy, right?”

“I think so. Didn’t Spyper get his head chopped off and put on someone else’s body?”

“Yeah, he got his body swapped around with Sny.”

“Hey, Wilson. Start finding more good Freaks. The more join up, the more chance Marcus has of getting through this. Have the brainiacs help.”

“I think Marcus is way ahead of us. I found some security footage of the road outside HECU Headquarters and just take a look at who’s with him.” Wilson showed the other kids the footage, where a handful of Freaks accompanied the Trio inside, including Count Jester.

“He got the clown with him?” a younger kid piped up.

“Apparently. Now all he needs is us-” 

Ring! Ring!

“Huh? My phone!”

“Who is it, Jackie?”

“Unknown Number. Should I answer it?”

“Answer it, but don’t say anything. If it’s spam, they’ll hang up if they don’t hear anything.”

Jackie did. “Hello?”

“Jackie? It’s Marcus. Are you okay?”

“Marcus!” Jackie gasped. “Are you in HECU? We’ve been looking all over for you!”

“Yeah, I’m at HECU. Your aunt says hi.”

“Aw. How long have you been at HECU?”

“Jester teleported us here about an hour ago. Apparently they were tricked into holding us for the guy who wants to kill us, but that’s been sorted out, and they gave me a pet, so we’re cool now.”

“...I’m sorry, what?” 

“Yeah, everyone trying to kill us is working for one dude.”

“Yeah that doesn’t sound bad at all,” Jackie winced.

“Tell me about it. Anyway. I’m calling to ask you not to do something stupid.”

“Whaaaat? Psh, nah, we’re not gonna do anything stupid. Right, guys?” Jackie said with a snide grin, winking at the rest of his team.

“You worry too much, Quinn. Chill.”

“Yeah. Rest easy, we’re not gonna pull some sh*t.”

“Alright. Stay safe out there. And don’t go near any emo Snipers you see.”

“Sure thing, man.”

Jackie hung up, still grinning. “So. Who’s ready to hunt an emo Sniper?’

“I’ll get the others. Viktor. Does your family still have all those weapons?”

“Yeah. Which ones do we need?”

“As many as you can get. Especially long-range. We did tell Marcus that we wouldn’t approach the f*cker, so sniping is the way to go.”

“There’s nothing quite like exploiting a loophole,” Viktor grinned, heading out of the warehouse.

The other boy nodded and dialed a number. “Hey, Olga? Gather the brainiacs. We know where Marcus, Cally, and Ari are.”

“Wait, really!?”

“Yeah. A buncha Freaks are trying to kill them.”

“WHAT!?”

“Yeah. Apparently”

“Holy sh*t... Alright, what do you need help with?”

“Hacking. We need you to track down as many Freaks as you can.”

“On it.”

“And get Ari’s friends. We need numbers.”

“Gotcha.”

Hanging up that call felt heavy, like the life-changing moment it would be for everyone involved.

“Should we have anyone over at HECU to keep an eye on Marcus?”

“No. Then they’d know what we’re doing and try to stop us. We gotta stay off the radar. Wear masks. Disguise our voices. Make sure nobody can identify us.”

“I had a feeling we’d need these!” another kid shouted from the bottom of the warehouse, pulling along a rack of all black disguises.

“Hey, you’re the theater kid, right? I knew you were useful for something.”

“Yep! I had these costumes ready for awhile but we never needed them. UNTIL NOW!”

“Awesome. Guys, get home. We’ll meet back here tonight.”

“Alright. Nobody die overnight!”

“Don’t jinx it.”

The theater kid knocked on the side of the warehouse on their way out.

---

“Thank you all for coming. As you know, a bunch of superpowered *ssholes have decided to kill our friends, and we, the students of Dade City High, cannot allow this to happen.”

As the student body president spoke, Viktor handed weapons to everyone in attendance. 

“You are being given weapons now. If you do not know how to use them, Viktor will teach you on the way.”

“What’s the current plan of attack?” A younger student piped up among the crowd.

“We go to HECU. Its location is confidential, but our hackers have found it. We also have a van we stole from a junkyard and fixed to be our ride. You know, to make it harder to track.”

“How are we all gonna fit in one van?” Another student called from the back of the crowd.

“Like sardines.” 

“Also, I have a trailer. We can use that for training and extra space,” added a rich kid.

“Couldn’t we just use an old school bus?” One of the engineering students pondered. “Wouldn’t take much to jumpstart it, and nobody would be suspicious of a school bus going through Evo City.”

“From Dade City? That’s two states away,” put in a chess club student.

“What about an activity bus? It’s not uncommon for students to go on field trips that take them across state lines,” another engineering student added.

“That works. You two go steal it. We can take both.”

The engineering students nodded and gathered up their bags before leaving for the school’s parking lot, their bags clinking with metal on the way out.

“Did everyone pack some clothes and supplies?”

“Yeah, but why not electronics?”

The rich kid spoke up again. “I got a cheap phone plan. Everyone gets a phone. This way our parents can’t track us.”

“And they can’t be tracked by anyone else, can they?” a skeptical student inqueried, looking their phone over.

“I was kinda hoping you tech whiz guys could take care of that,” the rich kid replied sheepishly.

The small group of tech students all glanced at each other before sharing a collective nod. “Give us 10 minutes.”

“Good.”

“What do we do once at HECU?”

“Find out where our friends are. By force if necessary.”

“And if any hostile Freaks show up while we’re doing that?”

“Why do you think I’m giving you weapons?” Viktor deadpanned, holding up his own gun.

“Ask a stupid question,” the class clown teased.

“I mean like, one of the really bad ones. Like Painis. I don’t even think our weapons would work against him.”

“Probably run. Or run him over.”

“Let’s pray that Freaks like Nightmare Medic or HOOVYDUNDY aren’t part of this whole thing.”

“Hmm... hey, I just remembered. I have an aunt that works at HECU.”

“Uh... who are you?” the student body president asked.

“Melissa James.”

“Oh no,” the student body gasped in unison.

“...is that bad?”

“Are... are you related to Anita James, by any chance?”

“Yeah! That’s my aunt! She taught me how to build bombs. And tasers.”

“Holy sh*t! You’re related to a mad scientist! THE mad scientist!”

“Yeah, she’s a bit... eccentric. But the point is, she could be our in. And get us better weapons when we get there.”

“Isn’t she under constant surveillance though? I heard she blew up HECU twice in the last three months. That’s not something you just leave unmonitored.”

“In the same three months, she built a weapon that can level cities, a teleportation device, an army of attack microbots, and a shield generator. We could use those against stronger Freaks.”

“Would she even let us use them?”

“She’s a mad scientist who needs her weapons tested, and I hear her boss won’t let her give them to HECU soldiers. I’m not worried.”

“Well…”

“What choice do we have, Todd? Do you want them to kill Ari? Or Marcus? Or Cally? We’re desperate, and beggars can’t be choosers.”

The student sighed. “Alright. Give her a call.”

---

RING! RING!

“Hello?”

“Hey, Aunt Anita.”

“Oh! Hi, Melissa! How are you?”

“Not good. My friends are in danger. I think you may have seen them. Marcus, Cally, and Ari?”

Anita paused, lifting her pen off her notepad. “...yes, they just came in earlier today.”

“Some friends and I are coming to help him out, and we were wondering about using your weapons to do it.”

“Hmm... Come around the back of HECU. I’ll keep the door unlocked for you.”

“Heh... thanks, Aunt Anita. Also, could you maybe not tell those three about this? We told Marcus we wouldn’t do anything crazy, and if he finds out we’re doing this, we’re gonna get our *sses kicked.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Thanks.”

There was a nod, and Anita, the mad doctor who sent people running with a smile and a wave, hung up.

[lesbianlotties]

Andromaquynh’s Story - songs

(an incomplete list of my personal favorite songs/lyrics that make me think of the immortal wives. they come with sort of very specific context for each one.)

One night, one death. Hundreds of nights, thousands of dreams. Neither of them knows, at the beginning, what the dreams mean. Soon enough though, the dreams turn into hope, into a firm belief in each other’s existence. The dreams turn into love before they even look at each other’s eyes. The dreams are everything, and the best part is that they offer the possibility of something more. aka a hundred years of yearning:

When you sleep - mary lambert

I could make you happy / I could make you love me / I could disappear completely / I could be your love song / I could be long gone / I could be a ghost in your eardrum / When you sleep, will it be with me?

I swore I saw you in a dream / All dressed in white and wide smile

How did I miss you, when I didn't know you? / How did I miss you, when I didn't know you? / How did I miss you, when I didn't know you?

Quynh had giving up. She had given up entirely and she was determined not to walk out of that desert alive. Then... Andromache. The dreams were real, the dreams were standing right in front of her in the shape of the most strikingly beautiful warrior. Suddenly nothing else mattered but their future together. Their future was sweet, like Andy’s favorite pastries that Quynh adoringly watched her enjoy. The future was endless. Because as long as they had each other to come back to, death wasn’t strong enough to take them:

Work song - hozier

And I was burning up a fever / I didn't care much how long I lived / But I swear, I thought I dreamed her / She never asked me once about the wrong I did

There's nothin' sweeter than my baby / I'd never want once from the cherry tree / 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be / She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

When, my, time comes around / Lay me gently in the cold dark earth / No grave can hold my body down / I'll crawl home to her

Then there’s Andy. Thousands of years of solitude turn to nothing the second that Quynh’s eyes meet hers. For the first time Andy allows herself to feel hope, to love and be loved without the fear of loss. In Quynh’s smile she finds purpose, joy, and everything she could ever need for eternity:

The last of the real ones - fall out boy

I was just an only child of the universe / And then I found you, and then I found you / You are the sun and I am just the planets / Spinning around you

I will shield you from the waves if they find you / I will protect you, I will protect you

I'm here, at the beginning of the end / Oh, the end of infinity with you

I'm done with having dreams, the thing that I believe / You drain the fear from me

Fear the future - st. vincent

When the Earth split in two / I was I, you were you / I run for you, run for me, too / When the wall rose and fell / And the oceans all swell / I run for you, run for me, too

Cosmonauts - fiona apple

When I met you, I was fine with my nothing / I grew with you and now I've changed / What I've become is something I can't be without your loving / Be good to me, it isn't a game

Now let me see, it's you and me, forgive, good God / How do you suppose that we'll survive?

When you resist me, hon', I cease to exist / Because I only like the way I look when looking through your eyes

There was a time when she was worshipped as a God. And, afterward, there was no way Andy believed in the gods that humans make up every now and then. That is, until the first day she gets to hold Quynh in her arms. The eyes that can render her helpless and down to her knees. The smile that makes her feel alive yet the only thing that could kill her. The skin that’s soft, that’s on fire, that’s the only truly holy place where Andy has found herself lost in. aka homoerotic religious imagery for the immortal wives:

Take me to church - hozier

She tells me "Worship in the bedroom" / The only Heaven I'll be sent to / Is when I'm alone with you

If I'm a pagan of the good times / My lover's the sunlight / To keep the goddess on my side / She demands a sacrifice / Drain the whole sea

Holy - zolita

Worship your body as you walk my way / You're the only one who can make me pray / I fall at your feet, your breath's divine / And underneath my skin's an intrinsic shrine

I'll give my soul, sacrifice me / Cause your love is holy

I'd rather drown in your ocean / Than wither on the shore / Undying devotion, feel you in my core / Veneration, this faith's got me high / Nothing without you, live for you till I die

Church - fall out boy

Time capsule for the future / Trust me, that's what I will be / Oh, the things that you do in the / Name of what you love / You are doomed but just enough

If you were church, I'd get on my knees / Confess my love, I'd know where to be / My sanctuary, you're holy to me

The witches trials. Is there anything more to say? They go in feeling invincible. Partially for their immortality, mostly because they are together. They face death while holding hands and with smiles on their faces as they’ve always had. How could they have predicted what came next?:

Which witch - florence and the machine

And it's my own heart / While tried and tested, it's mine / And it's my own heart / Trying to reach it out / And it's my own heart / Burned but not buried this time / I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out / I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out

The bottom of the ocean is cold, it is dark, the pressure is unbearable and the pain unending. If Quynh has any time to think, before dying again, it might spent blaming Andy, missing Andy, hating Andy, loving Andy, with just enough time to curse the ocean around her. aka Quynh making the most of the water/drowning theme:

What the water gave me - florence and the machine

Time it took us / To where the water was / That’s what the water gave me / And time goes quicker / Between the two of us / But oh, my love, don’t forsake me / Take what the water gave me

Hold my breath until I die - tegan and sara

Late at night, when your words are eating me alive / Does it make you sad to leave me here like that? / In my dreams, the blood runs from my eyes / If I fall, will you catch me in your arms?

If I hold my breath until I die, I’ll be alright

Pool - paramore

I’m underwater / No air in my lungs / My eyes are open / I’m done giving up / You are the wave / I could never tame / If I survive / I’ll dive back in

Dying over and over again, Quynh comes out of the ocean with a certain... clarity. Hubris, she says is their sin. They’ve never claimed to be angels, but they’ve refused to be devils, which she says they are. She may or may not believe that their real purpose is to make humans suffer. If Andromache won’t listen, she’ll have to show her what it all means. aka Quynh coming out of the ocean to shame mankind, or just Andy:

Just one yesterday - fall out boy ft. foxes

I know I’m bad news / I saved it all for you

If I spilled my guts / The world would never look at you the same way / And now I’m here to give you all of my love / So I can watch your face as I take it all away.

Five hundred years ago, Andy lost the love of her life. But she meant it when she said she lost a soldier. She was a leader, she should have been the one to face Quynh’s fate. The least she could have done was find her soon, and she failed there too. Now, if Quynh has come back full of rage, furious and thirsty for revenge, Andy is willing to accept it with open arms. She believes she deserves it:

I don’t smoke - mitski

Being with you / makes the flame burn good

So if you need to be mean / be mean to me. / I can take it and put it inside of me. / If you’re hands need to break / more than trinkets in your room / you can lean on my arm / as you break my heart.

Quynh, having escaped her underwater prison, is completely overcome with conflicting emotions. She finds Andy broken, guilty, still wearing her necklace and crying for her. But wasn’t she the one that broke their promise, stopped looking for her, gave up? Quynh, dealing with an unmeasurable and overwhelming mixture of hurt, heartbreak, love, rage, love... love and all the pain that comes with it, and how it all might lead them to a final fight with each other from which both of them can’t come out alive:

My tears ricochet - taylor swift

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe / All the hell you gave me? / 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you / 'Til my dying day

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace / And you're the hero flying around, saving face / And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake / Cursing my name, wishing I stayed / Look at how my tears ricochet

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you / But what a ghostly scene / You wear the same jewels that I gave you / As you bury me

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood / But you would still miss me in your bones

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

You turned into your worst fears / And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain / Crossing out the good years

Then, of course, there’s Andy’s side of the story. Andy, did she ever really give up? Didn’t she pray to all the gods she’s outlived? Didn’t she protect that necklace more than her own life, even now that she’s mortal? She’d be ready to offer Quynh anything, everything she wanted for a little forgiveness, for a small moment just to love each other. In the end, will it all depend on the strength of their eternal love for each other?:

Old wounds - pvris

They say don't open old wounds / But you're still brand new

I've got nothing left to lose besides you / I've already lost you once, what more could you do?

I think I could love you 'til the day that you die / If you let me love you when the timing is right / And if they said I had to, I swear I'd wait my whole life / I think I could love you 'til the day that you die

[swiftsalchemy]

Goodbye - Sasha Braus x gn!reader

A/N: SPOILER WARNING FOR THE NEW AOT EPISODE. I’m so sorry Sasha, you deserved the world, not what the end you got. Thank you for all the comfort you’ve given me over the years. This imagine goes out to all of the Sasha lovers.

THIS IS UNEDITED - THERE MAY BE SPELLING OR GRAMMAR ERRORS

summary: As Sasha Braus dies in your arms, you remember all of your memories with her throughout the years.

pairings: Sasha Braus x gn!reader

warnings: death, guns, angst, & a bit of fluff

word count: 1.7k

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    THE SOUND OF A BULLET ECHOED IN YOUR EARS. Yours eyes widened to see a young girl with brown hair that was pulled back, holding a gun in her two small arms. Next to her, a boy the same age but with platinum blonde hair - looking terrified. That’s when it struck you, what did the bullet she fired hit?

    The world turned on slow-mo as your gaze left the children and turned behind you. Your eyes scanned everyone who was still standing, they all seemed to be looking down. Slowly, your gaze followed theirs and that’s when you saw it. 

    Sasha Braus, your girlfriend of four years, was laying on the ground with blood rushing out of a hole in the middle of her stomach.

    At first, your brain couldn’t think straight. No, no, no, she couldn’t have been shot right? You asked yourself repeatedly. That’s when your body started to move. It dropped to the ground and fled to the girl’s bleeding body. For a long moment, you two stared at each other. It brought you back to the first day you two met. 

    It was a sunny day, the first official day of being in the 104th trainee corps. All of the young teens were gathered in multiple rows, standing side-by-side with each other. Slowly, Keith Shadis began making his way around and coming up to random young soldiers: asking for their names and why they were there.

    He had just finished interrogating a young girl with a long brown ponytail. Her name was Sasha Braus and she was eating a potato on the field. The wild girl had even offered half of it to Commander Shadis. You smiled, finding the brown haired girl amusing. 

    Once he was finished talking with Sasha, Commander Shadis had her row turn around. That’s when you two had first met each other’s gaze. Her large brown eyes stared directly into yours. You two held each others gaze for a long moment - it seemed like time had stopped for you two. Eventually, your serious face had broke out into a large grin as you saw a small bump in her pant pocket. Presumably, another potato was hidden inside.

    Commander Shadis had noticed your large grin and stood directly in front of you, blocking your view of Sasha Braus. Not long after, he began interrogating you just like he had for every other young soldier.

    You snapped back into reality. While you had thought of that fond memory, you were no longer smiling. Instead, tears had clouded your vision and were now coming out. You couldn’t help it, the girl you loved oh-so dearly was slowly dying. Even if Jean and Connie had screamed for a bandage to be wrapped around her - hoping to stop the bleeding. You knew that she couldn’t make it to the Island. Still, another Scout had tightly wrapped a now crimson bandage around her bullet wound.

     Slowly, you lifted her up and set her head on your thighs, hoping that it would be a much more comforting pillow than the hard flooring. You two still stared at each other. Sasha wouldn’t move her eyes, she wanted you to be the last person she saw before she couldn’t see no more. 

    You rested your hand on her cheek, holding it tightly. Trying to not cry in front of her, but it was so damn hard. “ Sasha... hey,” you said quietly, your voice almost being drowned out by the commotion behind you. 

    “ You’re so damn loud,” She said slowly, referring to the loud noises behind them and Jean and Connie’s yells of panic. Her breathing was uneven. Hearing her voice only made your tears come out heavier. “ Are we... eating soon?” She asked, causing you to briefly smile as her odd choice of last words.

    It was the Battle of Trost, your gas and sword supply had been diminished. You couldn't run or even fight anymore of the titans. You were finished, you were sure of that. This is where you would eventually die. You were just sitting in your grave, waiting for death to finally come for you.

    However, it wasn’t death who came for you. No. It was Sasha Braus, a girl you had grown quite close to over the time. You two had been extremely close, many assumed that you two had begun dating already, but no. You and Sasha were just the best of friends.

    “ Y/N!” The girl screamed, not caring if it attracted any titans to come your way. Using her ODM gear, Sasha had flown down to the ground and began racing to you, her arms outstretched wide. You too began to race to the girl, your tired legs somehow managing to propel themselves fast enough to meet the girl. 

    You both had wrapped your arms around each, not caring how uncomfortable it might’ve been with the ODM gear on. All you each cared about was being in each other’s arms once more. You dug your face into Sasha’s shoulder, a few tears of happiness had started to come out. You hadn’t seen Sasha in forever. For all you knew, she might’ve been dead. Fear not, she was right there in your arms.

     After a few long and blissful moments, Sasha pulled away from you - wiping any stray tear from your eyes that had fallen out. Again, you two just simply stared at each other - happiness feeling the atmosphere around you two.

    “ Y/N- what are you doing out here on the ground? You could die,” Sasha asked you, nothing but worry in her tone.

    “ Walking is the only option I have right now. My gas is out,” you answered. Holding back your thoughts of death. Right now, the last thing you wanted to do was make Sasha be even more worried about you.

     She bit her lip and wrapped an arm around you. “ C’mon, first, let’s get off the ground. Then we can worry about getting you more gear,” She said, readying herself for take-off. Before she started moving, Sasha looked over at you, her amber eyes shining brightly in the warm sun. “ I can’t have you dying on me, alright? We still haven’t had our meat picnic yet. You promised me one.”

    “ Of course we are, Sasha. When we get back to the Island, I’m gonna treat you to the best meat picnic ever,” you said through your tears. For a moment, it seemed the corners of Sasha’s parted lips had raised ever-so-slightly. That was good, you wanted your girlfriend to be happy. “ All you gotta do is make it to the Island, alright? Just hold on for a little bit longer... please.”

    “ Meat... “ Sasha quietly whispered, you could barely even hear her. But you did. A few moments after that, you felt her breathing slow down. 

    “ No... NO!” You screamed, not even caring how badly you were crying now. “ You can’t die, Sasha. You gotta hold on. For the Scouts, for Jean and Connie, for me,” you whispered, trying to manifest Sasha living through this.

    Soon,  Mikasa, Armin, and Connie were now at your side. Surrounding Sasha. They all stared at her, their eyes filled with tears. 

    “ Is she...?” Mikasa slowly asked, looking from Sasha up to you, who was still holding tightly onto her.

    You shook your head. “ Not yet. Her breathing is extremely slow, but she will be soon,” you admitted in defeat. There was no hope left in you, the dreaded moment was coming. Those around you felt it too.You all watched Sasha as her slow breaths soon became no more.

    Sasha Braus was officially dead.

    Everyone there looked at you, waiting for your reaction. Your face contorted into one of extreme pain, the tears starting to come flying out again. You felt like your heart was being ripped out. The love of your life was lying dead in your arms. The day you hoped would never come, finally did.

    The vast ocean shone a stunning blue. It looked like there was a million different gemstones floating on top of the ocean, however, it was only the sun casting a stunning glow on the water. For months, you had thought that the ocean was only a myth. Made up by Armin, Mikasa, and Eren. Yet, here you were, standing in its glory.

    Holy shit, the ocean is real.

   One-by-one, everyone hopped off of their horses and began sprinting down the hill. Their boots had sunk in the squishy flooring Armin stated was “sand”. Jean, Connie, Sasha and you had all slipped out of your boots and began racing towards the water. Due to your bare feet feeling as if they were being burned off by the hot sand.

     Once you had landed in the cool water, your whole body had relaxed. For a long time, the four of you had all played together. Jumping, splashing, and yelling with glee in the salt water. Jean had attempted to drink it, however he was quick to spit out the nasty-tasting stuff. He hoped no one had saw, but there you were laughing your ass off at the dumb boy.

    After a while longer, Jean and Connie had returned to go back to land - tired from horsing around to much. That only left Sasha and you by yourselves. You looked at her, taking in how beautiful she looked in the sunset’s glow. You two had only recently gotten together, but you had been wanting to be her’s for so much longer. 

    Ever since the Battle of Trost, you had been wanting to hold her hand and press your lips against hers without the fear of being rejected. Here you were now, finally having the freedom to call Sasha Braus your girlfriend. Yet have you two exchanged the 8 letter phrase. However, as you watched her spin around in the water, acting like there wasn’t a care in the world. You couldn’t help but finally admit those 3 words that you’ve been wanting to tell her for what felt like forever.

    “ I loved you. “

[pies-writes-and-more]

cruor

Word Count: 156 for the poem, 1,920 for the fic

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minor character death in a dream, a lot of anxious thoughts, mentions of blood - please be wary of any of your own triggers before reading this

Author’s Note: Instalment #2 in @wxstedhexrt‘s and my Falling collection, Series Masterlist HERE. As with the first part of this series, please read the poem first as it is the whole centrepiece of the fanfic :) 

If you need or would like a typed out version of the poem instead of the photo below, here’s the link to it on Destiny’s blog :) 

Cruor (Latin) - gore, blood, murder

A scream that tore through the night caught Bucky by surprise. His head whirled around, looking for the source, his heart pounding against his chest. His eyes landed on a woman, clutching a child and shielding his body with her own. Bucky could see the fear in her eyes, staring right at Bucky, as if begging him for something. He could hear the child sobbing, crying into the woman’s chest.

Bucky wanted to hold out a hand, reach out and tell her it was okay. He would call for help, he would get someone, anyone to help them. But as his hand lifted, he felt the heavy weight of a gun. It was far larger than necessary when the target was so close- Wait. No. Why was he thinking like that? Why was he thinking about the logistics of which gun to use to kill this mother and child when he shouldn’t be thinking about killing them at all? Why was he holding this gun? Why was he starting to aim? Why were they looking at him in fear? Why was he here? Where was Steve? Where were the Avengers?

He felt the recoil of the gun snap back into his body, the woman’s mouth open but her scream was silenced. Bucky wanted to rush to her, press down on the wound and yell for someone to get help but all he could do was stand there and watch as the little boy stared at his bleeding mother.

The young eyes turned on him, angry, fearful, wounded. His lips moved, curved to fit around the word, “Murderer!” Voices of hundreds, maybe thousands, joined the boy’s, all screaming at Bucky, fear and anger tangled in their tones.

Bucky felt the gun recoil again, just as the little boy moved to scream another word. He was interrupted, red blood everywhere, pooling around the two bodies. The silence was deafening under the scream that echoed in Bucky’s mind. The word had been cut off but Bucky knew. He knew what the boy called him.

Monster.

Bucky felt his body being blown back, as if the ghosts of the two in front of him shoved him as hard as they could manage. He was suddenly falling, watching as the sky grew further away. He felt his body clench, bracing himself for the fall, getting ready to feel the impact on his body, the shattering of his bones.

But it never happened. His eyes open, not even realizing that in fear, he had closed them. He was in a pool, his body floating in the liquid around him. His eyes scanned as he sat up, noting the fluid holding him down. It was dark. It was thick. It was sticky. It was…

Bucky’s eyes widened as he lifted his hands to his eyes, seeing crimson streaks dripping down his silver arm.

Blood.

Bucky knew it was theirs immediately, a heaviness sitting on his chest as he thought back to the little boy’s eyes. To his mother’s scream. Why had he done it? Why was he doing this?

Monster. Murderer. Killer. Terrorist.

The words spun in his head, as if suddenly those were the only words he knew.

Bucky wanted to scream out, yell an apology to deaf ears. He wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore, he was free, he wanted to tell them. But the blood started to grab at him, strapping across his chest and pulling him in. There was no longer any platform under him to sit on, Bucky was sinking, he was being pulled under. He wanted to fight, struggle against the strong liquid that seemed to take on a lifeform of its own.

But the words rang again.

Monster. Murderer. Killer. Terrorist. Villain. Animal. Devil.

Bucky felt himself sink further into the pool of blood and with every word that seemed to scream at him, he felt something tug him further down. He deserved to drown, he realized. He deserved to die. He thought of the little boy. So young. So innocent. Killed. Murdered. At his own hand.

Bucky shot out of bed with a gasping breath, his throat feeling like he had just let out an ear splitting scream. He threw off his blanket, hearing the weighted one he had been gifted hit the floor with a thump. He needed to breathe, he needed air, but as he tried to heave, it was like his lungs were shrinking. His whole body felt chilly, sweat dripping down his forehead as he tried to force himself awake.

His eyes darted around, looking for a sign of the little boy. Of his mother. Of the blood. But nothing. He was alone in his bedroom, eyes searching for signs of any struggle, any sign that what he had just experienced was real.

Bucky gripped at his hair, holding his head tightly, trying to stop the feeling of everything spinning. Murderer. He wanted to throw up but his stomach wouldn’t comply. He looked at his window, the peace and serenity that was outside. He wanted to be outside. He couldn’t be here anymore.

He stumbled across the room, noting the mirror nearby but he quickly shut his eyes as he passed. What if he looked and he was holding the gun? What if he looked and the woman and her child were behind him? No, he couldn’t look. He wouldn’t see what he looked like.  He just needed to leave.

Murderer.

Bucky wanted to walk straight to the door but it was like his feet were heavier with each step. He stumbled into the hallway wall, gripping it to hold himself up. His eyes tried to stabilize, catching the sight of blue hues flickering on the floor. Everything else was so dark, he felt like a fly to a flame, staring at the light and flying towards it like it would ground him, as if his sanity would return when he reached it.

Animal.

His senses had felt so overwhelmed as soon as he had woken up and Bucky realized there was still a ringing in his ears. He tried to force it away, to will back the silence but they rang like bells were following him. HIs eyes felt strained in the darkness and his tongue felt heavy with dehydration. Bucky inhaled, trying to grab oxygen to his lungs and he smelt it.

He knew that smell. Bucky shuffled further, still using the wall to hold himself up, his mind racing as it grabbed onto that smell and refused to let it go.

It was her. He knew it was her. That smell was the smell of her shampoo, something he had gotten a whiff of a few nights ago when she was in his room. He breathed it in deeply, as if it was the one thing that could save him, exhaling slowly through his lips. Inhale. Exhale.

His eyes followed the blue light into the dark living room, no other sign of living except for the soft sound of the TV playing. He watched as the TV lights brought blue hues dancing around the living room walls. He felt his eyes take note of every single corner of the living room, as if making sure there was no danger.

Devil.

“Bucky?”

Just like that, the world slowed down to a pause. The demons who picked and prodded at Bucky’s brain stopped as soon as her voice was heard and they all understood the same thing as they scurried away and hid. In the presence of a melody that perfect, it had to be holy, in which case, there was no place for demons.

His eyes met hers and for a moment, he was still. His body trembled like a leaf in the wind but his soul, it was still. For that brief spell, there was peace. Bucky tried to force himself to inhale and exhale slower, tried to slow down the organ that was beating so harshly against his chest. He wasn’t sure why but Bucky quietly wished he had looked in the mirror earlier. He couldn’t imagine being in front of her looking so animalistic, so unraveled, so inhuman. He wasn’t sure why but he didn’t her of all people to see this side of him, the side he had hid from everyone else for so long.

He waited for a moment, waited to hear the words scream at him again. Maybe she would hear them, maybe she would agree. But no voices came, no words and no pitchforks. Just her.

It was as if her voice alone had been injected in him like a drug, an anesthetic that took over his brain, silenced the voices, slowed his heartbeat, relaxed his muscles.

The girl parted her lips again and Bucky knew she wanted to ask if he was alright, but clearly thought better of it. She watched him carefully and Bucky heard her say, “Are you going out for a walk? Would you like some company?”

Y/N watched him carefully, her eyes surveying the damage that a nightmare had clearly done. Although yawns were creeping at her lips all night, Y/N had noticed Bucky silently torturing himself today. She wondered if that meant the nightmares would be worse tonight, so she had stayed up. She had been curled up in the living room couch with a blanket and some tea, hoping she wouldn’t find Bucky stumbling around but… here he was.

He stared at her, almost like a deer in headlights, and Y/N straightened her posture to look at him, “I can come with you if you want,” she offered, pushing the blanket off her lap.

But Bucky shook his head. Y/N thought it meant he was going to go by himself but he started to move towards her. She shifted on the couch some more, patting down the space of the couch next to her as he silently sank into the fabric.

“It’s Scooby Doo,” she commented and Bucky’s eyes moved to the TV. She watched as he studied it for a moment and saw his body relax just a bit. “Do you want some?” Y/N’s hands cupped the mug of tea and held it to him. He took it and just held it in his hands, as if allowing the warmth to overtake his body.

Y/N started to shift again, wanting to give him more room so he didn’t feel trapped in but Bucky’s arm reached out for her and held her thigh. He looked at her apologetically, his hand pulling away quickly as she stared at him in surprise. She gave him a small smile and shifted a bit closer to him this time and he relaxed again.

“Something is haunting the Scooby Doo snack factory,” she explained with an amused smile, nodding towards the TV. “I used to watch these when I was a kid, used to eat breakfast watching them, fall asleep to them…”

The two watched in silence, Bucky taking small sips of the tea every now and then. Y/N leaned her against his arm and Bucky was glad she got the side with his flesh arm and not the metal one (can’t imagine that’s too comfortable, he thought). After an episode or two, the tea mug got sat down on a table and Bucky sank further into the couch with Y/N by his side. The two of them slowly drifted off to sleep in front of the TV.

And for the first time in a long time, Bucky had no dreams. No nightmares. Just peace.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Thanks so much to everyone who gave some love to the first part of our Falling series! I hope you guys are enjoying it because Destiny and I are very much so enjoying writing them :) 

MASTERLIST // Destiny’s Blog! <3

[fiercedeitylink-x-linkeduniverse]

Chapter 5: Portal Shifting

Time's POV

I walked into the healers' house. I made sure to be quiet so I wouldn't disturb anyone else. As I made my way over to Fierce, I heard someone crying. Is that Fierce? I hurried forward. I opened the door and to my horror, I saw Fierce crying in his sleep.

"Dad please don't die! Please. I'm sorry Dad." He was shaking with the force of his sobs. I swallowed hard. I hurried over to Fierce. I gently placed my hand on his shoulder.

His whole body jerked and his eyes snapped open. The terror and pain in his eyes... They were similar to some of the boys after their nightmares, especially Wild's. I removed my hand and glanced around the room, looking for a stool or chair of some sort. I spied a stool, walked over to pick it up, and placed it right by Fierce's bed. I sat down and waited for him to speak. He struggled to sit up on his own, so I helped him up. He swiped at his tears.

"I'm sorry, I just... When Wind got hurt, it reminded me of my dad when he died. I just..." His voice trailed off and tears began pouring down his face. He swiped at them again before speaking.

"My dad died in my arms, there was nothing I could do... I wasn't strong enough to save the soldiers, I wasn't strong enough to save Termina, I wasn't strong enough to save my dad from Majora!" He choked out. I froze. Majora should be dead, I killed him. I made sure of it. This was my fault. I should've made sure there wasn't a way for him to come back. I placed my hands on his. They were squeezing the sheets tightly.

"Nobody should've had to fight Majora, let alone a teenager. That shouldn't have been your burden to bear. Majora will never hurt you again, I promise." I'm going to make sure that this monster won't haunt Fierce anymore.

"Thank you, thank you so much!" He began to sob and I wrapped my arms around him.

"It's going to be okay, Fierce we're here for you now." I felt him take shuddering breaths as he struggled to calm down.

"I have some explaining to do tomorrow. I want to tell everyone what's going on. I was planning on doing it later when I got more used to you guys... But I don't have a choice now."

"Fierce if you don't want to explain anything, you don't have to," I hugged him tighter, hoping that I could reassure him.

"I want to though. You deserve to know." He whispered. His voice this whole time was hoarse and raspy before he was injured but now it was much worse. I'm going to make sure he takes a health potion before he starts talking tomorrow.

"Go back to sleep Fierce. We'll be waiting until YOU'RE ready to talk." I squeezed him one last time before letting go.

"Thank you, Time."

"You're welcome, Fierce."

~~~~~~~

3rd POV

Time walked back to the inn, his mind swirling with the countless thoughts that were racing through it. He walked into the inn. Warriors and Twilight were up.

"He'll explain everything tomorrow." Time replied before they could even ask.

"Is he okay?" Four asked, having just gotten off watch.

"Honestly? I don't know. Physically he's mending. Mentally? He's... He's not in a good place right now. He needs our support, not our questions." Time's voice was quiet with the recent revelations from Fierce. The guilt tried to crushed him but he refused to give in.

"Who's-"

"I will," Legend spoke up. He got up and brushed himself off. He took the same position that Four had just moments ago.

~~~~~

Wind's POV

I sat by Fierce's bed while he slept. I want to be there when he wakes up. He saved ME. I want to repay him for what he's done for me. The only thing I can think of is to be there when he wakes up. He's been out for two days. Everyone is worried. Especially Time. It's like he... I don't know what's going on with him. Apparently, Fierce had told him something private. Fierce had planned to explain everything, including his journey. But he didn't wake up.

The healers said that there was more internal damage than they had anticipated. So his body was forcing him to rest up by making him sleep. Hyrule wasn't sure if that was the whole story. He pointed out that he had used massive amounts of magic and was forced to drink a TON of red potions. It had taken a toll on his body. I sighed and laid my head by Fierce's left hand. I froze when I felt his fingers twitch before his hand slowly ruffled my hair.

"Fierce?!" I choked. He smiled weakly back at me.

Fierce's POV

How long have I been out? It feels like an eternity. I heard someone sigh and their hair brushed against my fingers. Wind? I opened my eyes. Wind's head was by my left hand. I slowly moved my hand until it was on his head. I slowly ruffled his hair. I felt him freeze up.

"Fierce?!" He choked. I smiled weakly back at him. Tears started leaking out of his eyes and he launched himself onto my chest, sobbing hard. I let out a startled yelp. I winced in pain but didn't comment and wrapped my arms around him. Four walked in carrying a tray of food and froze when he saw me.

"Fierce! He's awake everyone!" Four hollered before walking over and placing the food down slowly.

"Wind, you're probably hurting him." Four murmured. I winced in pain.

"Sor-sorry. I just missed you," He hiccuped loudly and wiped away his tears. Everyone else walked in looking worried and relieved at the same time. Four and Wind helped me sit up. I winced and placed a hand on my chest and hissed. It's okay, you've been through worse.

"I have some explaining to do," I rasped. Four shook his head.

"Eat first, then we'll see what we're gonna do." His eyes had specks of red in them.

"Okay," I muttered and noted that my fingers weren't working right. I frowned and flexed them until the proper feeling returned. I rotated my wrists to get the blood flowing again. Wild watched me like a hawk. Hyrule didn't miss any details.

"Is that from previous damage?" Hyrule asked.

"Yes, I fell through a frozen lake and almost lost my hands to frostbite." I rasped and Wind snatched up my hands and start massaging them.

"Let me know when to stop," Wind replied. It felt really good actually. My ex-girlfriend would do this when my fingers got too stiff to move. I felt my ears flick back and forth as my hands fully relaxed and pain left them.

"Thank you," I whispered. Wind stopped and hugged me and hopped off so could eat. It took me longer than I would've liked, but I got to eat.

"Um, I know you have questions... But I can't explain everything... I went through a lot and I haven't had the time to process everything before I fell through the portal. I was out camping to give myself to process and recover mentally. I just wanted to clarify that first," I started coughing when I finished, my throat throbbing and my ribs screamed in protest. I heaved struggling to catch my breath, and Wind offered me a red potion. I winced before chugging it down. I gagged at the taste and wiped off my mouth.

"Thanks, Wind." I rasped. My throat feels better. I shouldn't start hacking my lungs out.

"So, about the sword... I found it on an ancient battleground. It was stabbed into the ground and had a red cloth tied to it. I didn't want to touch it, but my friend... She told me it didn't deserve to be forgotten so I took the sword home with me. I've been using it ever since. I um-" I fidgeted wondering how much I should tell them.

"Fierce, if don't want to explain something, just say so." Legend flapped his hand.

"... There is one more thing... I have two pieces of the Triforce." I held up my left hand. The Triforce of courage and power glowed briefly.

"Woah! That's so cool!" Wind grinned at me. I smiled back at him.

"I didn't necessarily want The Triforce of Power, but I couldn't let Majora get his hands on it." I rubbed the marking on my hand. My right hand was heavily bandaged... How did not notice that?

"Majora?" Legend's face turned a bit pale.

"As in the mask, Majora?" His eyes clouded over troubled.

"Oh... He's just a mask? He was a demon god where I'm from..." I muttered.

"His spirit was banished from the mask and it became a normal mask." Time spoke up, his one staring at the tiles.

"But somehow he came back to life," I finished for him.

"I tried to figure out how he came back, but couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation." I scratched the back of my head.

"That's in the past. And that's where it's going to stay." Time stern tone caused everyone to flinch.

"Anyway, I want to apologize to you Fierce. I knew something was stalking us and I should've told you to explore somewhere else. " Wild's ears were flicking back and forth.

"There's nothing to apologize for. It wasn't your fault. We all knew something was off. If anyone should be to blame it's the monsters. They were the ones who harmed us," I wrapped an arm around Wind's shoulders.

"Alright, we should let Fierce rest. We need to get moving soon. I want to introduce him to Flora," Wild grinned.

~~~~

Sky's POV

Fierce was finally up and about now. He was very stiff and had some trouble breathing if he did too much. I could sympathize with him on that front. My asthma causes me to have trouble breathing from time to time. Fierce was constantly stretching making sure his muscles wouldn't get too stiff from not moving. Wind would copy him and it was pretty cute, watching Wind trying to mimic Fierce.

Everyone was getting their gear gathered up and ready to go since Fierce deemed himself ready to travel. He knew the limits of his own body but the healers were hesitant to let him go. They were worried he was pushing himself. Wild interjected saying he would teleport everyone there and he wouldn't be walking for too long.

But we didn't expect a portal to appear under our feet and cause everyone to be separated. I fell on my behind with a yelp. Fierce groaned loudly and I watched as he struggled to get out of the poor bush he landed on. "Do you need help, Fierce?" I gingerly climbed to my feet and walked over to him.

"I- grunt - Yeah. Help." I felt my lips twitched violently as I grabbed his arm.

"Holy birds! You're really stuck!" I pulled harder but he was stuck. Fierce's ears turned cherry red as he offered me his injured hand. I grabbed them both and pulled. I yelped as Fierce was suddenly set free from the bush and landed on top of me.

"Fierce, get off. Can't breathe!" I gasped out and he scrambled off. I coughed, getting my breath back, and sat up.

"Fierce...You just killed that poor bush." I started heaving as I struggled not to laugh. It was practically squashed. Fierce turned completely red briefly before I lost it and howled with laughter. Fierce was too embarrassed to even laugh. His ears pinned back briefly before climbing to his feet and offering me a hand up. I gladly took his hand. Fierce pulled me to my feet easily. I guess using such a heavy claymore requires you to be quite strong. Hyrule forbade him from using it until he was completely healed and Legend agreed. Apparently, Legend had cleaned off his blade for him and knew how heavy it was. He uses power bracelets but he could tell how heavy it was. I shook my head clear of my thoughts.

"Do you know where we are?" He asked eyeing the landscape.

"Unfortunately no. We'll have to get out of the forest before I can figure it out. I've been to everyone's Hyrule so far. But I don't remember being in any forests besides Wild's Hyrule."             I sighed.

"We need to find shelter. It's gonna rain." Fierce began rubbing his wrists.

"Weather affects your wrists too?" I asked worriedly when I heard him hiss.

"I can feel it getting cold. Probably going to be rain and sleet. Ouch!" His right wrist popped loudly to my horror. He cradled his arm to his chest hissing.

"Are you okay?" I hurried over.

"I- I won't be able to use my hand now. Gosh, darn it!" I unclipped my sailcloth from its clasp.

"Let me help. I can use this for a temporary sling until we find something else," Fierce's eyes were clouding over with phantom pain and he nodded. I made sure to be extremely gentle as I placed his right hand in the makeshift sling. He hissed loudly but didn't yelp. I tied the knot quickly so we could keep moving and find somewhere to hide from the oncoming storm.

~~~~~

It had taken some time before we had found a cave but it started storming midway to the cave Fierce had spotted. By the time we got there, we were soaked to the bone. Fierce was shivering uncontrollably and I immediately began searching for moss and bark to start a fire. I hunted quickly through my bag first to see if I had any bundles of wood leftover from camping. Thankfully I had some left. I quickly placed them in the fire breaker Fierce had somehow managed to create. He was in a fetal position trying to keep what little warmth he had left.

"Fierce, I hate to ask this of you... But I don't have any flint and steel to start the fire and you use a little bit of magic just to get it started? But no more than that!" I watched as he lifted his head and extended his left hand. He muttered a spell under his breath and the wood caught on fire.

"You need to change Fierce, your bandages will need to be changed." I pulled off my tunic and chainmail and set it somewhat close to the fire. I pulled out a spare tunic and slipped it over my head. Fierce whined softly in pain. I looked up and watched as he struggled to move his left hand. I walked over and sat down next to him.

"Let me take care of your tunic and wounds. You can't even move your fingers." I gently pulled off his gauntlets carefully but it still caused him great pain.

~~~~

After helping him change out of his wet clothes I made sure to immediately redo his bandages. One of his chest wounds was red from being rubbed with a soaked cloth. I winced and decided not to put anything on it. It was so raw that if it could make any sounds it would be screaming. Unfortunately, that means Fierce couldn't wear his spare tunic.  He was covered in goosebumps and shivering violently. I had wrapped his arm up after drying off my sailcloth and drying him off with dry cloth from my bag. I leafed through Fierce's bag trying to find a cloak he could use. Thankfully there was one he could use. I gently wrapped it around his shoulder and made sure he was covered.

Fierce didn't talk and was struggling to stay awake. I scooted the both of us closer to the fire to keep him warm. I had rearranged the bedrolls earlier so that we could sleep there when I was done taking care of Fierce. When everything was said and done, Fierce's head was buried in my chest. I wrapped my arms around him to keep him close so he would stay warm. I silently pleaded with the goddesses that Fierce won't be sick tomorrow.

~~~~~

Fierce's POV

I woke up to a vivid burning sensation in my chest. I hissed in pain and pulled away from Sky. I slowly sat up and to my horror, my wound was swollen and there was a liquid substance leaking out of it and down my chest. I gagged.

"Oh no! I was hoping this wouldn't happen!" Sky whispered and shook his head.

"Your wound is infected and Hyrule isn't here to help,"

I'm screwed.

[capo-cedes]

Michael

INVOLVED: Mercedes D’onofrio, Nicholas D’onofrio, Al Mazomonie, Donna Mazomonie, Rebecca Mazomonie, & Michael D’onofrio  TIME FRAME: LOCATION: -; New York City, New York NOTES: After the house is invaded and Mercedes goes into labor, everyone regroups at the hospital. 

Mercedes rested against the hospital bed comfortably. This was the part of becoming a parent that she hadn’t prepared for, the labor and delivery. She exhaled softly as she breathed through a contraction as it wrecked through her. One hand gripping the beds railing for dear life as she laid there focusing on something other than the pain or the fact that there was no home to take their child to. The entire hospital was empty from top to bottom, police and guards circled the entire building. 

After everything Al decided that by no means could they trust anything and anyone. The price didn’t matter; he had to protect Mercedes, Nicholas, and the unborn child safely if his own life depended on it. He paced the halls, down its entire length were men armed and ready for battle. He looked to his wife sitting beside Mercedes door before he placed his hands in his pockets and paced in the opposite direction. 

Freddie stood even in his current state right by Mercedes door. He could hear the clicking of Al’s shoes from behind the closed door. His eyes darted at Mercedes as she exhaled into the room. Pain wasn’t an easy thing to watch on her but it was inevitable. There was nothing he could do there, outside of standing by her door with a loaded rifle in case anything happened within his control. 

Head of Cosmetic Surgery Gregory Aronld. Or at least that is what his name tag read. Nicholas glanced down at the running gash on his leg that was being steadily closed. He rose from his chair and moved over closer to Mercedes’ bed, causing the surgeon to scamper holding the needle at the ready. “Mr. D” Dr. Arnold argued feebly, setting back to work as soon as Nicholas was still. “Do you need me to call the nurse?” Nicholas asked his wife, rubbing the back of her hand. 

Mercedes groaned softly to herself and when Nicholas moved over towards her she looked up at him. “Would you please let him stitch you up?” she asked in an exasperated sigh. “I’m fine” she said in a low growl as she twisted her body “I don’t need a nurse” she told him, exhaling slowly through her plump lips. 

“He knows what he is about.” Nicholas said looking down at the Doctor. He ran a restless hand back through his hair.  “We both know you’re lying.  But I guess this is a part of it.  Can’t they give you something?”  

Mercedes looked at Nicholas again calming down as the pain subsided. “I am not” she said to him tiredly as she licked her full lips and looked up at the ceiling. “I don’t need anything,” she replied back to him easily. Women before her had done this time and time again without assistance. She would be no different. She was strong, she was Mercedes Francis for god sakes a little baby could not break her. 

Nicholas stretched his eyes, shaking his head softly.  “All right.” He was restless. There were so many things that needed to be sorted out.  He wanted to be at home combing over the bodies himself.  They had to have left some clues.  God help Paul if he didn’t come in with some good news.  “Ouch” Nicholas groaned, slapping Dr. Arnold against the back of the head as he finished his work. “Watch that shit! Are you finished? Damn.” The doctor nodded, holding his head and moved away from the couple. 

Bernice hurried up the hall, each room she passed was empty save the beeping of machinery. Turning a corner she almost ran bodily into Al.  “Al!” She blurted.  “How are the kids? Has the baby arrived yet?’ 

Mercedes blinked slowly as she looked over at Nicholas and the doctor in the room. When the man was finished he scurried away, leaving just her, Nicholas, and Freddie in the room. She shifted again in the bed straightening her posture a bit. “My water broke and he left…” she breathed looking back up at the ceiling. “I would have taken the shot” she said confused “why didn’t he do it? Why didn’t he kill me?” she breathed. 

Al looked at the men down the stretch of hall, he needed to get some serious shit done and fast. Despite his pending grandchild, he needed him, Nicholas, and Freddie out and about. He wondered if he could leave Mercedes in the care of his wife as they did so. No, Mercedes needed their support right now she could have lost her life, they all could have and he didn’t know what he would have done truly. As a body bumped into him he turned around seeing Bernice “Bernice” he replied. “Fine, Nicky barely had a scratch. They stitched him up” he said. “No, the kid isn’t here yet. Two hours in, we know how long these things can take…” 

Nicholas wandered back to his chair and sat down.  “They were definitely there to kill you.” He signed, “Doesn’t make any sense why the deed isn’t done. They knew about the safe room.  You two didn’t even know about that.  And Luis won’t be giving us any clues.  They killed him already.” These guys were connected that is for sure. “The soldiers in the kitchen were definitely Russian.” He said, looking over to Mercedes. “Baby, please tell me this isn’t the Russian mafia?” 

Bernice cupped her face in her hand and exhaled, taking a moment to gather herself and wipe away her worries. “Yes, yes… I know. But going into labor during an invasion is a surprisingly new concept even for us.” She inhaled dropping her hands. “I don’t know what happened.  This is all so unusual” she said crossing her arms. “Nicholas is too careful. The boy is damn near a ghost. How they could have been so careless with a pregnant woman in the house.” She fussed, in disbelief. 

Mercedes listened to her husband, her heart pounding in her chest all over again, in that moment she had never known fear. Al’s back hand was an easy pill to swallow but her standing there without protection, soiling her clothes was a fear she had never known. She exhaled softly “this is all my fault, I am so sorry” she expressed seriously. “All those people,” she said thinking about her staff. “I know how you feel about this, and I am sorry” she repeated. “Our son doesn’t even have a nursery to go home to now” she said rambling on. 

Al folded his arms over his chest as he stood before the woman, taking her in and watching to worry melt away. “Well,” he breathed “when you think you are going to die, your water breaking in probably the least of your worries” he let slip. “This isn’t Nicholas’ fuck up it’s hers” he breathed. 

“Al” Donna said, very close in range to hear what both he and his friend Bernice were talking about. 

Al turned around and looked back at his wife, “it’s the truth” he said back to her before he turned back to Bernice. “Nicholas could have died” he told both women “she could have died” he breathed “the baby for God sakes” he added. “And I am not completely sure how I am going to clean up all of this mess and protect them,” he vented. “Can’t even find these dudes right now…” 

Upsetting Mercedes wasn’t what Nicholas intended.  Even if it had been the only thing he’d done consistently for the last few months. “Shhh…” Nicholas said, going over the bed again, he sat on the edge, laying her head on his chest.  “Everyone knows the risk.  They’re family will be taken care of and now we have more time to figure this all out. I’m alive and most importantly you are. We’ll deal with the rest later.” He rubbed her arm.  “It’s been taken care of. Down to the last baby blanket.” 

Bernice looked confused… “Surly not.” She said, shaking her head.  “Still this doesn’t make any sense.” she rubbed at her temples.  “You can though.  Al.  you’ve seen the family though more than this.” She looked around at the assembled guards. “Do they have any soldiers left?”  

Mercedes looked at Nicholas as he moved over to her once more she laid her head against his chest. She rested her hand against her bump, nodding her head at him as he spoke reassuring her. “Really?” she asked him as she looked up, a bit of shock and disbelief in her voice. 

Al shifted on his feet, dropping his hands and placing them into his pockets again. “The Russian mafia” he stressed to her. “She claims her dealings with them were unbeknownst to her. She did what she had to protect Nicholas in the long run but now look at this shit” he said, throwing his hands up and gesturing around them. “Everyone has to watch their backs now” he told her. “Down to you,” he said, wagging his finger at Bernice. “Five” he told her, seriously lifting up five fingers. “There was an all out war at that damn house, bodies everywhere. I had to pay the NYPD so much got damn money!” he said, his voice booming. 

Donna uncrossed her legs and recrossed them “Bernice” she breathed softly to the woman. “Come over here and grab a seat” she said “leave that old man to his thoughts” she said cutting off Al’s rant off.

Nicholas nodded.  “Don’t sound so shocked. Yes. Red we are who we are. Shit happens.  We lost more of the primary staff then I should like...but, we have a place to go and a pretty good skeleton crew to start.” He smirked, “Hell, Freddie can just be the new cook.” 

Bernice’s head was spinning. “The Russians.” She whispered the word as if it were holy. “She couldn’t have known. Tiny’s always been Tiny but she’d never put us all in danger for nothing.  Al you know that.” Her eyes focused on Al as he put her on notice. “I’m always careful. This isn’t our first war.” She twisted her lips, her heart ached for the families of the dead. “I can send over my personal maid to take over for them,” she said more to herself.  She moved away from Al taking a seat next to Donna she grabbed the woman’s hand holding it in hers.  “At least the kids are safe. Right, Al?” 

Mercedes looked back up at Nicholas and she smirked a little at his comment. “I highly doubt anything Freddie would make would be edible” she joked back to him softly. She looked over at Freddie for a moment before she laid her head back against her husband's chest. 

Freddie overheard Nicholas and Mercedes, he didn’t crack a smile though the joke was actually very funny. Instead he simply stood there swapping glances with her and looking straight ahead once more.

Al looked at her and tilted his head “yeah she’ll do anything for your knuckle head son, including endanger us” he replied easily. “I think Nicholas is ahead of you in those regards” he breathed, when his wife cut in he sighed and went on to pace more. 

Donna looked to the woman, holding her hand back lovingly. “Yes that is most important” she chimed looking at the back of her husband's head. “She isn’t due for another few weeks, but they say that both are fine. It was a little rocky at first” she breathed. “Which I could imagine, whoever these people are nearly scared the girl to death”. 

“Of course” Al replied back to Bernice easily. Then being alive those were the least of his worries. It was keeping them alive. “Now to keep them alive…”

Nicholas chuckled, and nodded respectfully to the bodyguard. “He might surprise both of us.”  He said quickly.  Freddie was devoted to his wife, which in their current situation meant more than the money they had stored away.  He rubbed Mercedes' shoulder, trying to wash away what doubt he could. “Red, are you feeling better?  I need to step outside and talk to your father for one second.”

Bernice clicked her tongue. “Well birds of a feather.” She said, giving Al a knowing look. No matter what Al said the whole thing still didn’t sit right with her.  “Yes.. but?” she said struggling with the puzzle in her mind. She turned, giving Doona her full attention. “Good,” she breathed sighing with relief. “I can’t imagine how she feels.”  She said looking toward the door. “I bet she doesn’t want any company right now”. Bernice’s head looked to Al seriously.  He was right and the bigger question was why were they left alive in the first place.

Mercedes chuckled a little at his comment, glancing at Freddie once more. She felt comfort in his subtle arm caress in the moment. “I’m fine, you can go,” she said, nodding her head at him. She knew her husband well enough to know that being out there on the streets would comfort him far more than being in this hospital room waiting for their son to make his debut. There was still so much work to be done and he wouldn’t rest until it was completed. 

Al halted and turned around slowly, he didn’t want to act as he naturally would giving the woman’s comment however this was not the time or place he was too on edge. 

Donna looked at Bernice and said “I was in there examining things not long ago” she chuckled lightly. “Mercedes is a bull after all, I highly doubt she needs us. But would also never turn us away” she breathed. 

Al allowed his wife to finish her cute little banter before he moved towards Bernice and excused her. Grabbing the woman by her shoulder she stood her up and said “Bernice have a walk with me dear” easily as he gestured the direction with his hand. 

Nicholas gazed into his wife’s deep green eyes as she gave him leave. “I’m not leaving.” he said plainly.  “I just want to get an update status on what’s going on at the house and check in with Paul. Ten minutes tops.” He felt compelled to explain his actions to his wife, something he’d never felt before. 

Bernice grinned.  “You raised an amazing woman.  I’ll be right here until we hear our grandbaby cry. Whatever Tiny needs.” She flinched, surprised by Al’s hand on her shoulder. “Of course.” She said as if she had a choice and rose. “Excuse me Donna.” she said respectfully. 

Mercedes shifted in the bed again as the on-set of another contraction surged and she nodded her head “okay” she told him softly. “I’m okay” she reminded him, he never explained himself she didn’t know why he was doing so now. She understood the motive behind departing to seek her father even as she grabbed the rail again and inhaled deeply. 

“Aw, thank you” Donna said before Al walked over, she looked at him before pulling her eyes away and turning her head. She didn’t bother to reply back to Bernice thanks to her husband’s intrusion. 

Al offered a fake smile to the woman and began to walk, tugging her along with him. “Birds of a feather huh?” he asked her in a hushed tone. 

Nicholas shifted as Mercedes began to cling to the arm rest. “Another one huh?” He asked stupidly, feeling helpless for the second time tonight.  He stayed in place rubbing her back gently waiting for the contraction to pass. 

Bernice walked quickly to keep up with Al. She huffed silently as schooling her face to calm as she realized what was bothering him. “Yes Al.  It’s clear Nicholas and Tiny will do anything to protect one another.  That’s all I meant.”  she replied honestly. 

Mercedes nodded her head at Nicholas as she tried to breathe through the contraction, arching her back a little. She closed her eyes for a moment before she opened them looking up at the ceiling above her. She released he railed and grabbed his hand instead squeezing it for dear life “mm” she grunted softly before she exhaled. 

Al looked to the woman before he dropped his hand placing them in his pockets. “Is that so….” he said, looking at the side of her face again. “Don’t play with me woman, I am on edge right now” he told her. “I planned to pass the torch over to her as soon as this kid drops, but now I have all of this mess to clean up” he barked in a quiet tone. “The last thing I need is a smart ass lip from you or Donna!” he said screeched, voice rising with each word he was so angry.

Bernice’s head dropped.  “I’m sorry if I misspoke.  I didn’t think” She confessed. “It’s been a long day for all of us.” Her stomach fell. This wasn’t the time for Al to retire.  The family would fall apart without him.  “I know.. I am sorry.  This isn’t what you wanted but this may be what Tiny needs to really prepare to take over.

Al looked at the woman “it’s alright” he said calming down. At her moment he sighed “I don’t know” he said to her seriously as he rubbed his forehead. 

Bernice's heart pounded her chest.  This was no time to piss Al off. Especially now that it appeared to be off of Nicholas. "You are the only person who lead the family right now.  You know this is true." 

 Al looked at Bernice, “Mercedes was a lot of things and now in a few hours she would have gone and made herself a got damn mother. She doesn’t even want to be a part of the family anymore. Can you believe that?!” He said. “She doesn't want to be Don,” he said irritatedly. 

Bernice covered her mouth in feigned shock. She had heard this before.  Though at the time she did believe it was true. “You believe her?” She questioned genuinely interested in his mindset. She shook her head lightly, “I believe at some point in time all the kids dream of something different.  Maybe she’s just experiencing those aspirations later in life?”  Bernice did ponder another question… How did Rebecca feel about all of this? Since she was in the stew pot… “What about Rebecca. I mean right now she is the underboss?” 

Al paused sighing “yes, because I know her” he told the woman “she’s determined and she gets what she wants” he breathed. “Rebecca will get over it, I just-“ he shook his head. “Mercedes is a better fit to lead, she knows what it means to rule with an iron fist… and” he sighed “carry a little care for those around her rather she shows it or not” he said. 

"I see." Bernice nodded, deferring to the Don's knowledge of his children. Even if she held her own reservations to the contrary. He'd lead the family to long to doubt his assessment now. "I can see that. She was about to have me killed at their engagement party. " she chuckled thinking about the girl. 

At the woman’s comment Al furrowed his brows “is that right?” he asked her, not having known about that. 

Bernice actually giggled, dropping her head then shaking out her red curled ringlets. “Don't seem so shocked.  I'm sure you've wanted to end my life from time to time.  She is your child. Anyway," brush past her comments. “I can see what you mean about Tiny. I guess now only time will tell." 

“I’ve desired other things, that was never one” Al corrected, looking back behind them and he nodded. “Yes” he sighed “time” he replied back to her as he moved to retrace their steps back towards his wife.

Bernice sighed and left the comment to hang in the air.  Al was a very dangerous man even after all their years of acquaintance, she had to walk a line with man, the key was never be caught off guard or alone. She nodded shaking her head in agreement with the Don. 

Nicholas glanced at the clock on the wall.  Wasn't there a way to time contractions.  He thought standing now by the side of the bed. "Ummm… you sure they can't give something? Freddie go get the nurse."

“I don’t want anything,” Mercedes said, blowing out a large breath of air. “Freddie don’t you move” she snapped. “I can do this without medical intervention” she said as she shifted against the bed again, dropping her head back against the pillow as her contraction subsided. 

Nicholas stood dumbfounded, sighing heavily he shook head from side to side. "You are being stubborn." He smirked, then leaned down and kissed her lips. "I like it. I'll be right back." Nicholas strolled to the door, looking back only briefly as went. The door clicked softly behind him and he looked up shocked to see his mother. "I thought I told the family to lay low." He said, looking to his mother.

Bernice stepped beside Donna, when Nocholas emerged from the hospital room. She chuckled lightly, "You weren't talking to me." She said simply. "Can I go in to see Tiny?"

Nicholas' growled, jaw tightening.  He didn't answer his mother.  Instead he turned to Al.  "A word," he asked, tilting his head in the opposite direction to where the women were seated. 

Al looked towards Nicholas as he surfaced, he looked between him and his mother as they bantered before he nodded his head. He began walking hands in his pockets as he did. 

Nicholas swept the hall with his eyes physically counting the men present.  Shaking his head slowly, took to quick steps to catch up with the Don, ducking his head in deference. "Did they find anything we can use at the house?" He asked as he walked beside the man.  

Bernice scoffed, "the joys of having a capo for a son never stop." He exhaled and looked to Donna, "Shall we. Tiny may believe she needs Nicholas, but we both know that a lie." She said, standing she moved to the door and knocked, slipping her head in, "can I come in?"

Al looked at Nicholas and shook his head “no” he breathed simply to the man. “Gone without a trace” he said honestly. “I am sure they left the same way they came, like thieves in the night…” 

Donna looked to Bernice and smirked at the woman’s words “why not” she said as she looked to stand up, grabbing her hand bag. 

Mercedes shifted, pulling herself upright in the bed and tossing up her hand when Freddie’s foot moved. “I’m fine” she reminded him with a huff as she stretched her short body a bit, her back aching. When she heard the knock she looked to see her mother-in-law and she nodded “yeah” she told her.

Nicholas paused and sighed hand running through his hair,  watching as his mother and Donna disappeared into Mercedes' room.  "Dammit! All we got is the Russians.  I'd say let’s set up a meeting but at this point we’d just walk into a trap." He said thinking more out loud than anything else. Frustrated the leaned against the wall, licking his lip nervous at what he was about to propose. "Al I think once the baby is born, I should take Mercedes away for a while." He said in hushed tones.  

Bernice grinned as she moved into the room. Immediately she grimaced. "You need more pillows." She said shaking her head and moving to buzz the nurse. 

Al folded his arms over his chest as Nicholas went off on a tangent, he didn’t interrupt instead he let the man speak. And then when he was done he nodded his head “I won’t fight you on that” he said shockingly. He expected her to drop her kid and get back to work however, that wasn’t going to happen obviously. 

Donna followed behind Bernice, looking at Mercedes before she found her seat knowingly. 

Mercedes looked at Bernice as she came into the room and she shook her head at the woman. “I’m fine” she told her quietly.  

Bernice tilted her head quizzically backing away from the phone. "Okay…" she sighed. Hand going to the middle of her back she rubbed it in remembrance of old pain.  Clapping her hands together, "Well, dear… ready or not.  Is there anything you need?" She asked looking at Donna who had found a seat by the bed. 

"Listen, I know it's not what you want but you didn't …." Nicholas cut his prepared argument, face shocked. "You agree?" He intoned in a voice mixture of shock, disbelief, and relief. "Good." He said exhaling, hands going to his knees. “Good. I think the fewer people who know we have left the better.  We’ll start out at the safe house I’ve set up then move from there.” 

As Bernice spoke Mercedes inhaled and exhaled evenly, shaking her head at the woman. “Uh, uh” she managed to exhale as another contraction wrecked through her. “I’m peachy” she growled, closing her eyes and resting her head back against the bed. 

“Didn’t what?” Al questioned “see tons of bodies scattered across your estate?” he asked. “Pay the NYPD thousands to keep their damn mouths closed?” he pressed. “See the hide out you stuffed her in that didn’t do much hiding?” he glared. “Newborns are hard work just how do you plan to run off into no man’s land with one?”

Bernice nodded as she watched the girl clearly in pain. "First children are always the hardest.  I'm glad you're up for the challenge. D’onofrio are stubborn son of bitches like to play rent in your womb." She said hold on to the bed rails. 

Nicholas bite down on his hard enough to draw blood.  The metallic taste of life and death serving as a calming agent against the onslaught of calamities his father in law hurled at him.  He ducked his head and kicked at something imagined on the floor, "I have another safe house it's real off the books.  It's in a quiet place homey." He shrugged "She'll like it there." 

“Yeah well I am married to one so that isn’t shocking” Mercedes said to the woman before she leaned upright again. With her head of hair a mess of wild curls she finger combed them to one side and looked over at Donna with green eyes. Her eyes moved to Bernice again and she said “how long were you in labor with Nicholas?” curiously. 

Al looked at Nicholas, turning away from him and saying “I see” with a head nod. “Nothing to fight you on here” as he moved to walk away. “Is that all you wanted?” he asked him “I’d like to go smoke a cigar now” he told him. 

Bernice moved to fluff Mercedes pillows as the girl sat up. She sighed heavily after a moment tapping her finger on the bed rail. "Nicholas? I was in labor for 36 hours with him." She said, shaking her head. “In the end they ended up giving me a Csection."

“36 hours?!” Mercedes said back to the woman, the pain subsided and her body relaxed tension leaving it. “A c-section” she breathed as she looked down at her rounded stomach in the bed. She looked back up at her mother, worry in her face now. 

“Well yes. You shouldn’t worry though everyone’s labor experience is different.  Personally I admire you gusto.  With my first the luxury of painkillers wasn’t offered. I learned better with the last of my children.”  She patted Mercedes' hand softly. “How is the breathing going for you.  Is it helping much?”

Nicholas turned towards the wall, holding himself off the surface with his knuckles.  The pain in his leg was starting to spike despite his attempts to keep the pain at bay.  One thing down and a hundred to go.  He turned and looked at Al’s retreating form, for the first time in life starting to feel that another life was just what the doctor ordered.   “Thank you for your time sir.”  He said, standing up straight. 

“Yep” Al replied, reaching into his coat pocket for a cigar. He flicked it upwards acknowledging the boy as he continued to walk down the hall.

Mercedes eyes left Donna and moved to Bernice again. “Uh” she said with a light shrug as she laid back “I guess it helps a little” she told her. “I don’t want to be here for 36 hours doing this dance with him but I guess I could” she breathed.

Donna looked between the two before she said “12 tops with Rebecca, no drugs, and no Al” she said, looking at the girl. 

Slinking up the hall with an air  of complete self possession Rebecca appeared. She glanced at her father who was moving towards her but did not stop. Yes she was here to report to the Don, but she want to see her sister.  She moved past the guard and opened the door to Tiny’s room. She chuckled hearing her name. "What did they say about the devil?" She said standing in the doorway. 

Nicholas’ scowl deepened then hit the floor. Ice cold rage entering his body as he saw Rebecca.  He moved past Al, a deliberate stride, wondering what had happened to bring her out of hiding. 

Donna looked up to see Rebecca and she smirked fondly “speaking of” she replied to the girl. 

Mercedes looked to see Rebecca and despite her attempt the smile never reached her face. Why was she here out of all people? Yes, her acting at her wedding was pretty good but this. This happened to be different. She all but tried to destroy their marriage so why celebrate the birth of their first child. 

The door shut as Rebecca moved over to her mother's side, laughing.  "Well, I'm sure I was joy enough." She said She bending to kiss Donna's cheek lovingly. Straightening, "Bernice…" she nodded focusing on Mercedes.  "This all seems fitting. You were the baby doll type." She committed crossing her arms over her chest. 

Nicholas entered the room at full speed. circling the door he eyed Rebecca cautiously.  "Anything to report?" He asked looking at his wife, then back to Rebecca. 

Mercedes looked to Donna and then Rebecca, again she tried to laugh or smile but it didn’t reach. Instead she made it apparent how she truly felt by stating “the very dolls you stopped at nothing to destroy… I suppose dear sister” she breathed. Inhaling and exhaling, she finally looked up at her and peered into her eyes. When Nicholas showed she looked at him and shook her head “not really” she breathed. 

Rebecca shrugged, “Kids will be kids.  I was acting out.” She said, reflectively,  “Forgive me, I went from being a spoiled only child to a big sister without warning. You can’t still hold that against me?” She asked cutting off when Nicholas entered the fray. “Brother in law…” She smirked, “Nothing.  Outside of what you all already know.  I was able to find out that most of the thugs were hired guns, with only the main group being Russian.  They used them as cannon fodder for the most part. After that I thought it was only right I come here to support the family.” 

Nicholas clenched his teeth, trying hard to relax.  He moved to Mercedes placing a protective hand on her forearm, nodding as Rebecca spoke.  “Do you need anything?” He asked quietly to his wife, brushing her hair back with his free hand.  He looked back to Rebecca, “You should go give that report to Al. I’m sure he’ll want to know. 

Donna shifted in her seat looking between Mercedes and Rebecca, she was deciding if she were going to speak up or be quiet. As long as she could remember the two had been at each other’s throats. 

Mercedes raised a brow, before she scrunched her face in disgust “oh forgive me” she stressed agitatedly. “I forgot at 9 months old I asked your father to do that” she snapped. 

“Mercedes” Donna breathed tenderly before she looked at Rebecca. “Rebecca, your sister is in active labor do you think this is the time or place to put on a show?” she asked her with a tilted head. “Yes, your father would love to hear that” she said agreeing with Nicholas, offering the room a smile. 

Mercedes eyes rolled over to Donna, just mere moments ago she was facing death to then venture off into motherhood weeks before her actual deadline and here Rebecca was being the usual annoyance she always was. She took the time to sink in the bed, ignoring the contraction she was having. She wouldn’t give Rebecca that satisfaction right now. Looking at Nicholas she shook her head at him, looking down at nothing in particular as she inhaled sharply through her nose. 

“And I did?” Rebecca countered in the space of a moment. “Contrary to what you think I’m not here to argue with you. I know I’ve been less than perfect.  I’m trying to change.” Her hand went to her mother’s shoulder as her full mouth went into a sad little pout. She folded in on herself visibly in front of everyone.  “Yes… I suppose you are right. Brother-in-law” She stressed tossing her hair lightly over her shoulder she quickly moved to the door and exited the room. Outside she took in a deep breath, the move to where her father was smoking. “Father.” 

Bernice watched the going ons with the cool disconnection that was completely fake.  Her ears were alert while her eyes studied Nicholas and Mercedes with a mother's concern on face.

Nicholas rubbed his hand down Mercedes back, "thank you, I believe talking to Al would be best.  Underboss." He ended using her formal title. Despite the complete lack of respect he felt. Turning completely to his mother now.  "Is everyone safe.  We don't know what these people want… at least tell me you did that much."

At her words Mercedes raised a brow, her mouth twisted in disgust as she thought about the audacity of Rebecca’s lie. “Right” she said simply in response as she shifted her body again, still fighting against her pesky contraction. When the woman left she growled lowly to herself, releasing another harsh breath as Nicholas unhelpfully rubbed her back. 

“Rebecca” Donna replied to the girl’s remark, as she went on she nodded her head. “That’s a good girl,” she said, patting the girl’s hip lovingly. She watched the girl go and she rested back against her seat again. 

Al stood out front, just down the hall from everyone, he sighed in the cool air. Using his lighter to relight the cigar he heard Rebecca and looked up “the kid is here?” he asked, prepared to finish her statement as he turned to her, eyeing over. 

Rebecca looked back at the door, shaking her head. “No the kid takes after his mother he will come when he is good and ready.  Needless to say, I’m not exactly welcomed in there.” She shrugged softly then looked back to her father.  “We’ve cleaned up as much as we could at their home and are running down the connection to local dead guys. We’ve got the Mitchel brother under surveillance.  An easy amount of the hired guys were from their crew.  Would you like us to talk to them?” 

Bernice rolled her eyes. “Nicholas this isn’t my first war.  Calm down.  If they wanted us they would have hit us before you guys, or at the same time.  Don’t be foolish.” She fuseed, She said, watching Mercedes struggle through a contraction.  “Besides, do you actually think I would miss the birth of my grandchild.  I’ve never missed one and I refuse to start now.” she said sheepishly, her eyes rose to meet Nicholas again.  “Everyone but Paul has been placed underlock and key,” She finally said, moving around the bed to stand by her son’s side.  “You just be here. At this moment. Okay?” 

“Mother?” Nicholas fussed, not backing down. She alway thought she was the smartest of them all and that bothered him greatly.  “You don’t know for sure what any of this is or what will happen.  None of us do.  Don’t be so flippant”. He relaxed only marginally as she finally offered the information he wanted to know. “Must you always be you.” He sighed, “I’m here mother. Can someone please go tell the nurse to give her something, or at least come in and let us know if everything is okay.” He said finger raking through his hair. 

Al chuckled at Rebecca lightly, “why not?” he asked her “your sister needs your support now more than ever” he said honestly. “That shit can’t be easy, no matter the woman or her measured strength,” he said with a headshake. As she went on to tell him something he’d actually like to hear he nodded slowly “mhm” he said processing what she had said. “Yes” he told her with a head nod. “Do just that” he said exhaling a cloud of smoke. 

Mercedes swallowed thickly and she shook her head “I don’t need anything Nicholas” she groaned, a whimper escaping her before the pain subsided. She exhaled slowly, one of her hands moving to her stomach pressing flatly against its roundness. “Okay” she said catching her breath “that was like a 9 out of 10” she said nodding her head.

Donna looked between the son and mother, much like watching a tennis match she only pulled her eyes and ears away when she heard Mercedes struggles. She stood up and moved a little closer “maybe you should have them give you something” she said softly. “It’s not a sign of weakness, just alleviate some pain” she suggested. “I’ll go get a nurse,” she told them. It was obvious why they were slow to budge, they knew who they were and anybody who did feared them. 

Rebecca regarded her father for a long moment, the old bastard, wasn’t there even for her birth and now he had the nerve to expound on what his bastard needed.  She kicked at nothing on the floor, then looked back up.  “Old wounds die hard father.” she said simply.  “Old wounds.” She waited dutifully as he mulled over her idea, then nodded quickly as he gave his approval.  “Consider it done.” She said, already back away from the man.  “I’ll let you know what we find out.” 

Nicholas rolled his eyes grinding his teeth at his wife's continued resistance to medicine. “Baby... “ he said, trying to keep the base out of his voice.  “I agree with your mother,” He said then added “Thank you Donna.”  

Mercedes watched her mother disobey her and she looked at Nicholas “I can do this” she stressed to him. “All the stuff we’ve witnessed, we’ve done, like tonight for instance” she told him “I can push out this baby on my own” she said, if she said it enough she would convince herself of just that eventually. “And it is a sign of weakness” she corrected sadly lip quivering, turning her head from him. 

Nicholas touched his mother’s hand, lightly. “Leave us for a moment.” he told the woman, eyes only on Red. 

Bernice inhaled, then nodded knowingly to her son. “Donna wait up, I’d like to have a word with that nurse as well”.

Nicholas rounded the bed, and pulled over the chair sitting down to rest his leg.  “Red.” he said restlessly, “what’s this about? We have the best staff in the world here to help you deliver this child.  Why are you being so damn stubborn?  Is this natural birth shit really what you want to do?” he asked, feeling a little guilty this was the first time he’d even thought about this aspect. 

Mercedes watched Bernice leave and she looked down at the bed she was in, when Nicholas pulled up beside her she looked at him as he spoke. She sighed softly and said “I did a lot of research and it’s better for the baby and I” she told him at first. Which wasn’t a lie at all if she were to be honest with him. However she went on “I don’t know” she answered back to him getting emotional, yet again. “It’s just, while he’s in here I can protect him from some things, but once he’s out” she cried “I don’t know” she said shaking her head as she wiped a few tears. “I’m scared” she admitted “I didn’t really know what to expect and I didn’t imagine it like this” she cried to her husband as a hiccup left her. “I-I-” she stammered working herself up “didn’t picture i-i-t going like t-this” she said her hand covering her wet eyes, her other gripping the bed’s railing as another contraction wrecked through her. 

Nicholas sat back and let Red explain herself.  He nodded softly, unable to argue against what she was saying.  He didn’t know if it was true or not. As she came down to the heart of her feelings, he swallowed then looked to Freddie before he reached for his wife’s fingers, “Shhh,” He squeezed her hands. “Hey… this might not be your dream situation.  But even you have to admit, having both your baby daddys here is a blessing.” He waited for her to gather herself, “We are leaving as soon as the baby is born.  Far away from here and all the bullshit.  You don’t have to be scared. Not anymore.” He promised.  

Mercedes dropped her hand as Nicholas reached for her fingers, squeezing her hand and she sniffled hard. At his joke she looked over at Freddie and then “not funny” she said softly those I was amusing. As he went on she looked at him, she couldn’t tell if he was just saying that to her to calm her down or what. So she shook her head a little wiping her tears a little more “yeah right” she said quietly as she exhaled softly the pain subsiding, she laid her head back on the pillow shifting down a bit as she looked at Nicholas, lacing their fingers together. 

“Yes it is. You and I both know he’s going to change way more diapers than I ever will.” Nicholas continued, not joking in the least.  “No.. I told you we were going to leave the house and got raided.  I almost lost you.  I am a lot of things but a fool isn’t one of them.  We are leaving. Just get our son here safe and sound and we’ll have a new house safe from harm.” 

Freddie looked over to the both of them, wondering if Nicholas was actually telling the truth and what it all meant. As they went on he looked down for a moment before he looked back, raining a stone wall despite. 

Mercedes held Nicholas hand close, chuckling a little at his words “Freddie has 3 kids, he should be a pro” she breathed looking over at him before she looked at Nicholas again. She dried her eyes a little more before she nodded her head at him slowly “okay” she said reasoning with him, her other hand moving to her stomach. “I can do that,” she said softly, calming down and letting some of the nervousness melt away. 

Donna stood before the nurses station “my concern is the strain” she vocalized “and the fact that originally when he got here both her and the babies vitals were alarming” she added. “Remember, her blood pressure” she pointed. “She thinks she doesn’t need the drugs, but mother knows best,” she said with a small smile. 

“Three kids…” Nicholas whistled looking at the silent man.  “I had no idea. Wow.”  He kept her hand in his and leaned back in the chair, “I know you can. Mercedes you're about to be a mother…  The best mother.  Strong and sure… quiet as it’s kept, I got the feeling you’re going to be a lot like my mother.  Which I find sort of scary.” He said looking towards the hospital door. 

Bernice stood beside Donna red nails clicking on the counter of the nurses station. Donna’s nice yet threatening approach was another feather in the ladies hat.  She really did like the sweet woman. “You heard Mrs. M dear. Get off your ass while you still have one.” She add with a smirk. 

XXX

Despite everyone’s protest hours earlier, now at the tail end of this never ending battle Mercedes regret choosing to ignore those protests. Her mother-in-law had jinxed her, or cursed her depending on who you asked. At a whopping 23 hours she still found herself battling with their unborn son. He was proving to honestly be just like his mother and father “whew” left Mercedes in a strangled groan as she huffed through the now excruciating pain. And as if 23 hours wasn’t far too long to punish someone she sat their 9 centimeter, just 1 shy of victory and her son hadn’t budged in an hour. She told herself in the moment sweat pouring from  her forehead that if she survived this “I am never doing this again” in a deep growl, squeezing Nicholas' hand as hard as her body allowed. 

Nicholas bared his teeth, trying to endure the pain this wife was inflecting on his hand.  The time for witty exchanges had left hours ago.  All he wanted was his son, a shower and sleep.  And at this point, the order of those wants were switching by the second.  With bloodshot eyes, that bore a hole in the nurse who stood at the foot of the bed, “This can’t be normal… isn’t there something you can do?” 

The nurse's eyes peered past the man, she looked to check Mercedes vitals as well as their son’s before she looked back down. “He’s fine” she said tugging her gloves off “I can see the top of his head” she commented. She moved to page her doctor. After she had done so she grabbed a new pair of gloves. “Here let’s get you ready” she said to Mercedes, the girl assisted in getting Mercedes feet in the stirrups before she attentively dried sweat from the woman’s neck and face. “You are doing so good, a trooper to go this long with no epidural” she commented calmly.

Mercedes released Nicholas' hand and grabbed the beds railing, her back arching slightly as she released another loud groan. At the girl's statement and page, she looked down, releasing another groan. “I’m never doing this again,” she said shaking her head “never doing this again, never doing this again” her words a jumbled plea for help, laced with exhaustion, and agony. As the girl positioned her the way that she needed her Mercedes tried to regain some strength and sanity. “Oh” she cried as her back arched again, she continued to grip the railing on the bed as she inevitably fell into temptation and began to push. Bearing down she didn’t wait for further instruction truly, whatever she was doing came naturally and it was edging her closer to some relief. 

“The head?” Nicholas exclaimed, trying to look and backing away at the same time.  “Next time say something.  Standing there all mute and shit.”  Confused he stood by the side of the bed dumbfounded as Mercedes was helped into a new position.  “Yeah, baby you are doing great.” He added lamely, feeling a nervousness that hadn’t been there two seconds ago. “I’m here. Just breathe okay… Should she be pushing?” He asked, wondering where the doctor was.  “Doesn’t a doctor need to be in here?” 

“His head” the girl repeated, rounding the bed the young girl proceeded to set up what was necessary for the doctor ignoring his other remark. She looked at Nicholas and then Mercedes “he’ll be here any moment, don’t worry. It’s fine, she’s doing what her body requires… naturally” she said calmly to him. When she was done she moved back to Mercedes and nodded her head pleasantly “you are doing amazing” she breathed happily offering Mercedes her hand if she needed it. Her eyes moved back down between the woman’s legs watching closely before she heard the door open behind them and the older guy rush in. She only parted ways with Mercedes to assist him, gearing him up. 

Mercedes exhaled loudly as she laid her head back on the bed looking at Nicholas with eyes that screamed either be supportive or get your ass out. He told her she was doing good however it went through one ear and out the other “I” she breathed deeply “am going to make you go stand in a corner if you don’t leave her alone” she snapped at him, eyes deadly. When her doctor showed she huffed loudly, puffing her cheeks out. “I thought you were going to miss all of the fun” she told the man her back arching again. 

The older guy moved into the room as quickly as his legs carried, truthfully somewhere down the line a nap was needed. Imagine being held hostage at your place of work for a full 20+ hours. Mercedes wasn’t the only person exhausted, was all he could say to this current situation. When he entered he geared up with the help of the nurse and rolled some gloves on. Hearing Mercedes he chuckled lightly “of course not, I was contemplating grabbing us some pop and pizza to bring to the party” he joked lightly as he sat before her. “You are doing good, next contraction give us a big push” he told her happily. 

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, but let the girl slide as he focused more on his Mercedes words. He nodded quietly, feeling out of his element entirely.  He took the off handed dismissal on the head and moved out the way to allow the newly arrived doctor and the nurse to do the job they had been paid for.  Easing to the foot of the bed he stood near Freddie, and scrubbed his hand down his pants then thread his fingers into his hair. 

“How thoughtful of you” Mercedes said back to the doctor before she beared down, her hand still gripped the bed’s railing for dear life. Her other slid to the back of her thigh as she pushed roughly against the contraction, a strangled cry left her before she pressed her lips in a tight line. “Oh my goodness” she said, her head falling back against the pillows behind it. “Oh” she groaned, looking down between her legs.

The older man smirk at Mercedes adjusting the mask on his face a little before he watched as the woman pushed with all of her might. He shifted on the stool a little arms extended as he helped to guide the newborn’s head. “Good,” he said cheerfully, “his head is out,” he said to her. “Next contraction he should be out” he told the woman as he reached for the suction, suctioning the boy’s nose and mouth carefully. 

The nurse grabbed a blanket and gently laid it across Mercedes' chest carefully, when she started pushing again she made sure to have the examination area prepped for when the baby is born. She moved to grab a pair of gloves and she handed them to Nicholas, moving to push the man right back at Mercedes' side, a little lower even so that he didn’t miss the show or finale. After all these hours of annoying them to death over the woman he thought he was going to stand on the side lines? Oh no, he was going to be all in today. “He’s almost here…” she reminded him. 

Nicholas could run the world.  Kill a man without flinching, but standing in this room watching his wife give birth he was helpless.  Taking the gloves hesitantly, he slipped his long fingers into the glove without prodding.  Cutting the umbilical cord was a dad thing, at least in the movies it was. Gloved, he stood like an out of place rag doll while the nurse and doctor cheered Red on. The experience was too wild for him to take it all in. 

Freddie’s eyes stayed focused straight ahead as Tiny along with the help of staff worked diligently to bring the child into the World. 

Mercedes groaned softly before she beared down and pushed against her contraction once more. Using all the strength she had to muster, she gripped the railing extremely hard as pushed the child out in two tries. Mercedes rested back against the bed releasing the rail finally as she looked down. 

Mercedes’ doctor sat there watching the child as his mother pushed him out with ease. When Nicholas' hands were gloved he shifted over a little to allow the man to catch the little boy. “Right here, just cup your hands” he directed. 

Watching the tall man put the gloves on the woman brought him closer to his wife, moving him closer to the view of their son and when she did she gestured with her head. “Go on” she encouraged him without much thought. 

Nicholas’ head swivelled away from the happenings, as his rooted feet struggled to remain in place as the nurse pushed him south of the Mason Dickson line.   ‘Was this normal protocol.’ He thought wildly, now standing beside the doctor.  Nicholas looked oddly at the doctor’s face.  He wanted him to catch the baby? His eyes tracking down to the doctor’s cupped hands.  Yep! That was the plan. Nicholas squatted slightly, for a better position, for a moment more a man taking instruction from a coach than a father to be. The doctor helped support the baby’s neck as he reached down to catch the rest of the body.  Hand holding his son's tiny body the Capo, killer,  looking up to Red’s haggard and speechlessly grinned. He went back to the baby’s face, hands sure now.  He’d never drop him.  He laughed out loud, what sounded like a half sob.  And before he knew it, he had all of his son’s long body in his hands. He huffed out more laughing sobs, “Hey boy.” He said, still holding him tightly. 

Mercedes shifted slightly, her eyes falling on her husband as he held the now screaming bundle in his hands. They swapped glances and she smirked softly to herself, a tear she was unaware of rolling down her cheek at the sight of their son. He happened to be the picture of perfection and far more magical than she expected, it was hard to believe even now that she had carried him for nearly nine months in her womb. 

The nurse smirked at the man, she moved towards him with a warm blanket and gestured her head towards his wife. “If you hand him over you can help us with something else” she breathed preparing to offer the man the surgical scissors he’d use to cut the boy’s umbilical cord. When the man feet finally carried him to his wife she’d wrap the bundle up, clean him off a bit and let the doctor and new father do their jobs. 

Nicholas beamed down at the little screaming bundle in his hands.  The yells were strong and loud, everything a D’onofrio should be. Instantly, everything in Nicholas' life was changed.  The nurse got his attention and Nichlas looked over the woman as if she was the novice.  He laid the baby in her hands slowly, reluctantly then gave the woman a warning look.  He took the scissor then followed the doctor's instructions cutting his son free from his first home, with steady hands.   Comfortable in the role he’d play in his son’s life from this point forward. He handed over the scissors then took off his gloves, moving up to Mercedes side.  He leaned in and kissed her softly on the forehead. “Thank you.” He whispered into her hair. “He is absolutely perfect.” 

The young girl smirked at the dazed man, it was amusing to her. It was as if everything he needed in life was suddenly handed to him. She moved the crying bundle towards his mother, rocking him gently as he did. She rested him on his mother’s chest, which subsequently quieted him a lot. She made sure he was bundled, knowing how very important it was for a child to be in its mother's arms the second it breathed life. 

Mercedes watched as the wailing child was placed on her chest and she looked down at him. His red skin as loud as his scream she pecked him sweetly quieting him down, her hand instinctively moving to his small back as she rubbed him lovingly. When Nicholas moved towards her, her sparkling eyes looked up at his. He kissed her on the forehead which only made her eyes close as she basked in it. He whispered thank you and she opened them nodding at him slowly, his statement made her look down at the boy again. “Did you hear that Michael?” she sweetly said to the baby “you are absolute perfection, mommy and daddy are so happy you are finally here” she said kissing his tiny pink lips. 

Nicholas reached down stroking the tiny fingers of his son’s hands. “Michael…” He repeated, the shocked expression in his tone. He cleared his throat, and tried to speak, then licked his lips, steadying his broken and heavy voice. He fought back tears, swallowing a huge lump in his throat. “Michael.” He repeated once more, wrapping his arm around Red’s shoulder squeezing her to him closer. 

Mercedes continued to watch the little boy, her hand rubbing his small back sweetly. She was in awe, she’d really birthed a baby and with Nicholas no less. She kissed the little boy’s forehead and smirked looking up at Nicholas again “mhm” she replied “Michael Nicholas D’onofrio” she breathed to him before she looked back down at the baby wiggling against her bosom.

[squirrelacorngliterfarts]

Blood. 2. 6.

Everything Taglist: @gold-dragon-slayer @your-internet-granny

@darkwhisperswolf​ @youbloodymadgenius​ @blonddnamedhandz​ @thelastemzy​ @inforapound​ @supermassiveblackhope​ @captstefanbrandt​ @roonil-wxzlib​  @syreni-dea​ @cynthianokamaria​ @rosiebrosie @loliismutt@pinkisokay @heavenly1927​ @annekleyn​

wanna start from the beginning? haven’t read the first part? start here!  Blood 1 Masterlist

Warnings: death, violence, gore, disturbed reader.

three days had passed far too quickly. it felt more like hours than days.

she stood beside ubbe, looking to the gates of york, gripping the leather vest around her body.

ubbe looks over at her, he frowns deeply when he sees her, her face blank.

“you don’t have to do this, you know. we can handle it”.

“i can handle it, ubbe. i’m going to help. i can not stand back and just watch my family fight and risk their lives without me being involved”.

ubbe nods, wrapping his arm around her waist. he knows there is nothing more he can say.

“ready?”.

“as i’ll ever be”.

ivar waves his hand, signalling the time is now.

ubbe waits for the ladder men prepare themselves, and when the first ladder is raised, they move. fast.

they charge forward, and ubbe looks to (y/n) in question, but all she does is nod.

ubbe picks (y/n) up high, just above shoulder length and when she taps at his arm, he throws her up.

she catches the highest step, swinging herself upwards, landing on the top of the wall with little to no grace, kicking the first guard that comes her way in the stomach, sending him backwards.

she watches as he collides with the ground, killing him instantly.

she hisses in disgust, her mind wandering before she has to bring it back to the current moment.

this wasn’t the time to think of her morals.

ubbe climbs up,  and (y/n) aids him, using what strength she had to pull him up the rest of the way.

ubbe kills the man who comes up behind (y/n), and (Y/n) shutters, smelling the freshly spilled blood.

it reminds her of the battle against alle, all the horrible killing she had done.

she was sick of it.

she ducks, falling on to her back and swiping her legs underneath the next guard, making him fall back, and ubbe is quick to sink his axe into the man’s skull.

“up!, follow me!” (y/n) calls out to the rest of the army.

meanwhile, ubbe jumps from the wall, holding his arms out for (y/n). she jumps into them, patting ubbe on the chest.

“thank you, brother” she says, receiving a curt nod from him.

she runs over to the gate and axes the handles, ripping the doors wide open.

she moves out of the way as ivar rushes in, hvitserk on his chariot with him.

she sees a soldier coming her way and she is ready for his attack.

he swings his sword at her, only to have it stopped by her axe, she flicks her wrist and his sword is in the dirt.

he is swift, graceful with his movements, missing her every move, blocking her every punch and kick.

she falls to her knees as he hits her in the face, she knows there is no way out of this cleanly.

she grabs her discarded axe and swings it, trying to ignore the blood splatter upon her face, the scream that tears through the mans throat.

she stabs him. and she stabs him again, over and over and over.

she then finds herself, atop of this man, repeatedly sinking her axe into the mans lifeless body, a dark rage overcoming her.

she blinks, running the back of her palm across her eye, trying to rid it of blood.

she stands up, ripping her axe from the mans stomach and heads on, following ivar’s chariot.

she’s breathing deeply, trying to come out of that hypnotic state she lost herself in.

no. no. no. no. no. not again. you will not become that again.

, but she almost loses it once more when one of the men come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her neck, trying to twist her around unnaturally to break her neck.

there’s only one thing she can do, with her arms being no help against his strength, she adjusts her chin, biting down on the forearms that’s constricting her air way.

the man screams as her teeth breaks through his skin, and tries to rip himselffree, which only made her take his flesh in her mouth.

she spits it out, remembering the one saxon whom she bit his throat out.

she grimaces as she swallows his blood, the hunk of flesh spat from her mouth, he goes to make his way back to her, his arm pouring blood.

she grabs her abandoned sword and quickly peirces his gut, sipping it from him, and fnishing him off by slicing his head from his body.

she exhales shakily, her body numb as she watches his lifeless body fall to the ground.

thankfully her brothers hadn’t witnessed this, their fear for her sanity would have overcame them.

she nods to herself, taking one last look at the man.

“i’m sorry”.

with a few more dodges and just one more kill, they arrive at their destination.

the church.

something deep inside of her itches, burns and pulls, and she doesn’t know why she feels so strongly about this place.

“(y/n)”.

she turns and sees ivar staring at her from his chariot.

“ready?”. 

the excitement in his voice makes her feel uneasy, but nevertheless, she smiles and nods.

he must of thought she was enjoying this from the look of all the blood on her body.

(y/n) looks up high and notices a large cross made of stone above the building.

just as they get closer, she can hear a man chanting something, over and over and over and over.

there’s no denying, it’s beautiful.

she can’t help but want to stop hvitserk opening the doors.

but he’s too quick for her.

none of the people inside notice them, continuing their prayer for this holy day of theirs.

it makes (y/n)’s throat suddenly tighten with emotion, her lip almost quivering as she knew what was to come.

it wasn’t until one woman screams, and the vikings are moving fast.

they slice and cut their way through the christian people, blood spilling against the stone floor.

she can barely understand their language, but she can catch sentences here and there.

and it hurts her heart to hear them pleading for their lives, trying to bargain with gold and silver.

just as she goes to axe the first man she sees, she finds herself paused, looking into the eyes of the panicked man.

she can’t.

hvitserk cuts passed her, doing her job for her.

(y/n) can’t bare the sight. she turns, panting heavily as she races outside, leaning against the wall of the church.

a few men try to beckon her in, but she can’t, waving them off and shaking her head, declining their offer.

she sees that ivar had crawled in, and he was nowhere to be found.

moments pass and the screams die down, only whimpers and cries of pain.

she decides that she can go in now. she sees that they left few people alive, a baby crying in the center of it all.

but that’s not what made her freeze in her tracks, her eyes widening, her life slowing before her.

there sits ivar, happily laughing as he and his men hold the christian priest down, pouring hot, liquid gold into his mouth, suffocating him, torturing him slowly before he dies.

(y/n) is horrified, her whole body cold and unmoving, she feels shock overcome her in a way she’d never felt before.

she knew ivar was ruthless in battle, articulate, cunning, smart and vicious. but this?, he was laughing, smiling like his first born child has entered the world.

he liked it.

(y/n) wants to cry out to stop him, to do something. anything. but she can’t.

she blinks several times, moving amongst the large amount of dead bodies to reach the still crying infant.

she looks to her left as she bends low to pick the child up, seeing three women looking from each other to (y/n), fear in their eyes, yet the fear was not for themselves.

it was for the infant.

(y/n) wonders if one of them was it’s mother.

she goes to take a step towards him, but remembers what she must look like, doused in blood, it caking in her hair and around her neck.

she bends low to grab a piece of forgotten fabric, running it along her hands and skin, trying to rid herself of the blood before going to him.

she picks the small boy up, shushing him, laying him against her half cleaned chest, softly rocking him back and forth.

and she’s smiling just slightly when the child calms down, his hands gripping her armour with dainty fingers.

the women are confused, still fearful, but wondering why this cruel northwoman was caring so kindly for a child that wasn’t hers.

she takes the child out of the hall, ignoring the others strange looks.

she sets the baby down outside, safely on a cart, kissing it’s head gently before going back inside.

she walks over to the women, ignoring their flinches and unruly gaze as she stands over them.

“come on. please get up” she says in their language, and the women, thinking they were going to be punished by not doing so, get up and do as their told.

“what are you doing?” hvitserk asks, meanwhile ivar was to busy dealing with the priest, and ubbe was just watching the scene between his younger siblings.

“i am taking them away from here” she says, going to turn away, but hvitserks hand on her should prevents her from doing so.

“they need to be dealt with. killed”.

“they are women. christian women who don’t know how to fight or defend themselves. let them go” (Y/n) says, staring hard into the eyes of her brother.

“they will go and get men, raise an army, bring them back here and-”.

she looks at the women, speaking quickly.

“please, once you leave here, do not come back. do not tell anyone of what has happened here, that will only lead to more death and destruction of your people. you have each other, do your best to keep it that way. yes?”.

they nod, still holding on to one another, their eyes trained on the woman who saved them.

“let’s go” (y/n) says, leading them away.

she gets them outside and grabs the child, handing it to the oldest looking woman.

“there is a boat just off to the corner of the town, it is one of our ships, take it and go as far from the north as you can, try to find a familiar settlement. don’t look back, and don’t come back”. her words were harsh, but she couldn't have hvitserk proving her right.

the women understand, hurriedly running in the direction she told them to go.

they look over their shoulders.

“thank you, kind northwoman” the one says, and (y/n) smiles.

“go”.

they leave, and (y/n) feels a sickening feeling overcome her.

what would ivar say when hvitserk told him what had happened?, that she had let the christians go instead of letting him deal with them?.

she inhales deeply, exhales shakily, running her hands over her face in frustration.

even though she knew she’d be told otherwise, she knew she did the right thing

[normal-thoughts-official]

That thing about assumptions on whose more openly affectionate of malec being opposite is so true lol! Like you expect Magnus to be the teasing in public/PDA type but Alecs the one who grabs his ass and kisses him on the cheek and wraps an arm around his waist or shoulders, the one who initiates hand holding and kisses in public, the one who whispers dirty things in his ear?? And magnus adores every minute he just doesnt trust himself to initiate in case it's Too Much or hes being "clingy" :'[

ABSOLUTELY and i think it’s mostly because people don’t realize that magnus and alec’s outer appearance, demeanor-wise, is not only fake, but effectively a defense/coping mechanism

i mean i’ve already talked a lot about magnus many times and it’s been basically canonically established that magnus’ devil-may-care, playboy, detached attitude is the result of him trying to close himself off after too many experiences with abuse

and closing yourself off doesn’t just mean not allowing himself to feel, it also means not letting anyone get too close to you. but magnus can’t really do the “completely isolating yourself in a tower” thing, like Raphael does, because he craves contact and touch and attention and being alone with his thoughts is one of the worst things he can do to himself. 

also, he’s too much of a softie, he’s still there, trying to represent warlocks politically, taking people under his wing. there’s just too much he needs to do, wants to do, so isolating himself physically won’t work. ergo, he needs a facade. a ruse. something between his feelings and others, something to keep him safely isolated and away from people who will- could hurt him and this way he also helps them too, because who needs to have such a broken, despicable, whiny murderer of a friend who brings nothing but emotional baggage to the table?

so he builds this uncaring, detached, but fun persona; someone whose company you can enjoy a lot, who will take you on adventures, who can do a lot of stuff for you, but who’s not deserving FITTING for a deeper relationship, even if just friendship-wise. he’s shallow, he only cares about the Exorbitant Amounts Of Money™ that he’ll get from his “favors” (which is hysterical because I don’t think I’ve seen him being paid a single fucking time in the entire show, not even when fucking lilith showed up at his house claiming to be some warlock he’s never met and asked for a potion, he literally gave it to her for free because she mentioned ragnor. he’s too kind for his own good, honestly. and god the amount of unpaid work he did for these goddamn shadowhunters. unbelievable. he deserved so much better. but anyway, i digress), he’s impulsive and stubborn and listens to no one, he’s all about partying and fashion and sex. so how could he possibly be like in a relationship, if not the teasing one who’s all over the other, showing them off to people, grabbing their ass, gushing over them or whatever. the most surprising part, honestly, would be to see magnus getting in a relationship at all, considering what an unfixable lothario he is and his general disdain for complicated matters - at least in most people’s eyes

as for Alec, well, for many, he’s probably the picture of the Perfect Shadowhunter. clear mind, cool head, cold heart. a soldier so perfect he’s almost a machine, and has never learnt empathy, much less love

it’s obvious that none of this is true, once you take a look. he’s clearly suffering and in a constant battle with himself, not only who he is and who he’s attracted to, but also what he actually believes in - and look, i’m not saying he’s perfect or some kind of woke white savior or anything, cuz he did and said some shitty stuff both in s1 and after it. but he’s also the one who told magnus “take what you need” when magnus needed his strength, and the one who refused to let magnus use his magic to clean the loft when he could do it himself and allow him to rest. and that says a lot. when everyone else, including clary, who supposedly wasn’t even raised in racist shadowhunter culture, treated magnus like a tool, the means to an end, alec remembered magnus’ humanity

so, upon closer inspection, most people would think that he’s just Repressed™. sure, there’s a lot going on in there, that man is conflicted af, and it’s actually a pity. were he raised in another culture, one that wasn’t so set on stripping you of your humanity, he could’ve been a great man. he could have been happy, too. goes to show you how cruel shadowhunters are, even to their own kind. 

so for those people, alec is almost a pity case. he’s stuck in his oppression, helpless, confined. shadowhunter values have been drilled into him so deep that he can’t face his feelings anymore. he lies to himself and smothers any semblance of a “rebellious” thought before it even comes to mind. he’s all but brainwashed, basically

but that’s not exactly true, either

and look, don’t get me wrong, because of course i know that alec struggled like crazy to come to terms with his identity and his attraction. but alec is not brainwashed. if anything, he’s shockingly self-aware 

when he’s in shock after he finds out about his parents and the arranged marriage, he says, “i’ve done everything that they’ve asked, i’ve dedicated all of me to the clave”. he knows exactly what he was sacrificing for them, he knows that there’s a line between what he believes in and what he does because it’s what’s he supposed to, and he knows where it is, too. when he goes on his first date with magnus, he says “i always knew i couldn’t get what i wanted, until you came along”. knew, not thought. it’s not that alec never considered it, always thought it was out of his realm of possibility, couldn’t face the idea; it’s that he thought it over, came to the conclusion that it couldn’t happen, and resigned himself to it. in alec’s eyes, he was making a choice

now, don’t misquote me, because obviously it’s not really a choice when you’re between losing everything you’ve ever had, including your family, or being who you are. i’m not saying that alec chose to be in the closet, i’m saying that he saw it that way. that he was perfectly aware of who he was, and what he wanted, and what he thought, but he knew he couldn’t act on it. there’s a fundamental difference between the way alec acts, and lying or hiding from yourself

so alec is not repressed in the freudian sense of the word, where his desires are all subconscious and whatnot, but in the sense that he won’t act on them

i think alec was never quite good at lying to himself (or anyone, really, but specially not himself. he’s painfully logical and introspective, and he over analyzes everything, including himself. i’m also like this and believe me when i say that it’s almost impossible for me to lie to myself, even when i want to. my therapist and psychiatrist both think it’s appalling lol. lying to yourself is a survivorship skill that i think neither alec nor i ever had)

and then we have the third group of people, the people who realize that, who know that alec knows and actively and consciously represses his desires anyway, but who think that alec is too powerless, too weak, to break out of it. basically another pity case, the poor lightwood boy, so hurt and powerless to do anything about it. 

all of these people are wrong

alec is not weak, he’s- incredibly strong, really. like the shit he did when he came out, that was incredible. and before that, just heading out of the institute to go to magnus’ and help him heal luke when that went straight against clave’s orders? holy shit. straight up ignoring his mom’s calls? id literally die of anxiety before ever being able to do that. and after s1 too, he continuously chose magnus, continuously faced all sorts of enemies, he threatened maryse, who was always the monster under his bed, without batting an eye

alec’s always been strong, and brave, and self-aware. and that’s why his relationship with magnus was way less about figuring out what he wanted or learning how to express his feelings and desires, and way more about allowing himself to do exactly what he wanted. most people would think that alec would need time to adjust to being in a relationship, to being happy, to not looking over his shoulder after every touch or word. that alec would need help to figure out what he was into, what he liked, how to do things, how to feel and to love. but he didn’t, because alec knows himself way too well. once he decided that he could get what he wanted, he just did it and never looked back 

(because he knows how strong he is, too, and there’s an advantage in being trained to be a soldier and diplomat - he’s very aware of his own strengths and how to use them) 

so yeah, there is the reason everyone is wrong and shocked: people assumed that magnus knew what he wanted and was comfortable in his own skin, while alec didn’t. but it’s actually the other way around

if you look at their relationship, the “insecure one” (obviously there’s no such thing as “the insecure one”, everyone has their insecurities, but you know what i mean) was magnus. alec was ready for sex before him, and it seemed that it never occured to alec that he could have fears surrounding that. magnus was the one who was always worried that something would be the Last Straw, make alec leave him. magnus was hesitant to make big gestures of love or just be sappy and romantic, and alec was like “we’ve been dating for 3 months, i think it’s appropriate to propose to magnus”. magnus was scared and insecure, and alec gave zero (0) shits

(not with everything, obviously. i’m not trying to say magnus was the helpless uwu one who needed fixing. just that when it comes to their relationship, magnus was more hesitant than alec was)

because magnus was the one who had been repressing what he wanted. he was the one who couldn’t face the idea of falling in love, of allowing himself to be vulnerable, of being with someone else. after camille, after all the hurt and abuse, he wasn’t ready, and he needed time not only to allow himself to feel, but also to figure out how he feels - to get rid of this deep conviction that he’s worthless, that he should accept crumbs and not look back because it’s the best he’ll ever had. i’ve said that before, but that scene in s2 when magnus gets mad at alec for being a rude bitch, that’s so significant. the magnus from a few years before wouldn’t have said anything, would have just let alec treat him and make excuses for him. “oh he’s new to this,” “oh he was stressed,” “well there’s his brother”, “i was being annoying,” “it’s not his fault”. because that’s what you do when you’ve been through abuse. magnus got into their relationship unwilling to accept being only given crumbs, and unwilling to be anyone’s punchbag. not that alec would do him like that, but it’s important that magnus wouldn’t let him. especially because alec is kind of a dumb bitch who believes people when they say “it’s ok” way too often, so he might not have realized he was hurting magnus, had they met when magnus was in a different headspace

anyway, what i was talking about before i went on yet another big tangent about magnus and his abuse recovery? ah yes, repression

basically what i’m trying to say is: while both magnus and alec struggled with coming to terms with who they are, who they love, and loving and respecting themselves, by the time they got together magnus was the one who needed to be eased into things. he needed time and space to relearn how to be in a relationship, and to be happy in it. while alec needed to jump headfirst into what he wanted and not look back

and look, not to be a disgusting malec stan, but that’s one of the many reasons why they are literal soulmates work so well together. because magnus has been needing someone who loves him so deeply and expresses it so fearlessly, because he’s unused to it, because he’s way too insecure and convinced that he won’t get or doesn’t deserve it. and alec also needs to be able to express his love with abandon, he needs to be affectionate, to tell magnus that he’s beautiful and that every day they’re together is a dream and to give him gifts and to take him to the lock thing and make a romantic dinner with ten dozen red roses because for so long he didn’t allow himself. obviously they both love and are loved, and they both love each other equally and fiercely, and magnus also always expresses it, it’s not a one-way thing. but to alec, being able to express his love and affection for magnus is a wonder, it’s something that he’s still in awe of, realizing that he gets to have this, to be in love and let the whole world see. to say exactly what he feels. i think that’s one of the reasons why alec never beats around the bush, just goes straight into “it’s moments like this, when i’m staring into the eyes of the man that i love,” and his constant Wedding Vowing, because he’s basically bursting with everything he feels, and just how much, and he fucking wants to express it god damn. why the fuck would he be chill? HE GETS TO HAVE THIS, after denying himself for so long

and magnus, well. magnus really needs it. really needs to be convinced that he’s lovable, and that he deserves not only to be loved but to be loved in a fulfilling, caring way. to be happy in a relationship, not just part of it. that he doesn’t have to constantly sacrifice himself for others

and that’s just one of the many ways in which they suit each other so perfectly. because what they need to say is what the other needs to hear, and what they have is so strong it can calm the storm that’s been inside of them for so long. they have the kind of love where they’re sad together, happy together, silly together, angry together, where they get to be competitive dorks and say dumb shit, and also to have slow and calm mornings, and also to feel juts as intensely as they desire. they have it all they are soulmates they have a one in a million kind of connection they are so perfect for each other and in this essay i will

[thisgirlhastales]

Simon and Baz Carrying On, like Wayward Sons ...

I’m here to write more about Wayward Son because @apostrophe-philosophy got me thinking with the wonderful additions made to my first lengthy post about it :)

Honestly, I’m loving the book more upon reflection, though I still have my same issues with it. I think the initial shock of the cliff-hanger had to die down for me (though, again, still have some things that irked me about said cliff-hanger). I’ve got more ranting to do, so, ah, here we go again, and warnings for spoilers beneath the cut!

Apologies for any repetition but this is mostly a ramble with less organization than my previous semi-essay post, and a little more in-depth on the characters, I think.

Carry On, as @apostrophe-philosophy stated so wonderfully, is a book that shook up all those tropes we know and love (when they’re executed well) of the Chosen One narrative, and I was so very pleased that Wayward Son kept that going — in fact, were Carry On the typical Chosen One type story, we would never have gotten a sequel because all’s well that ends well, right? (See: HP Epilogue).

But Wayward Son didn’t feel like a sequel to me, so much as … letting the cameras roll after the movie is over? (Er, assuming the characters are real people, so forgive my crap analogy.) We see how very broken these people are despite (or because of) their victory. We see that there are years of healing ahead of them, assuming they can even come to terms with all the things they’ve done and seen. It’s very much a life goes on and on story; as in, life doesn’t stop after a narrative goal or milestone are achieved. It just goes. On. Without needing permission. It is relentless.

And it doesn’t care if you can’t keep up.

Which is what I believe is happening to Simon, Baz, and Penny (and Agatha, to an extent, though she really feels like she has her shit together way more than the others do, and who’d a thunk?).

Simon Snow, Former Chosen One, Saviour of Watford and Conqueror (?) of the Insidious Humdrum, Now Retired and Mage-Less

Ooof, let’s start with the guy whom the series is named after, because oh Simon. My dude, your problems are as vast and deep as an ocean, and I feel like you never really learned how to swim properly ‘cause your mentor/father-figure (who was your actual father, and won’t that be an agonizing reveal?) really messed you up by nearly drowning you repeatedly. Metaphorically. Or literally?

Simon Snow was neglected in many ways as an orphan child growing up, moved around and ignored, until he met the Mage. Then he gets a huge destiny shoved upon him, and he’s taught how to fight with a sword and with magic, although, ah, the latter he really sucks at because for all his immense power, he lacks control. Many, many near-death experiences later, and he’s finally hit a point where everything he came to know as his reality crumbles beneath him because the Big Evil he’s fighting is a piece of himself (nice bit of trope subversion), and he has to figure out what the hell to do with it … Oh, right, fill in that hole and give up all his magic, the thing that saved him. And incidentally, the way this happens is that he witnesses the death of one of his closest friends/older mentor figures, and the Mage is the one who did it. Furthermore, the Mage refuses to accept reality, i.e. that Simon needs to give up the power, not give it to someone else (him). Penny and Simon inadvertently kill him … And it hurts me when, after Simon begs Stop hurting me! as a magic spell, that Penny has to tell Simon that the reason the Mage died is because the magic dealt the final judgement — the only way the Mage would be able to stop hurting Simon is if he were dead.

Simon is gonna have to contemplate that crap for a while … But we don’t see too much of it in Wayward Son because Simon is a disaster (but “still so lovely” as Baz says) who won’t think too hard about why he’s such a disaster — he’ll just torment himself over it, and thus break all our hearts (and Baz’s) …

As @apostrophe-philosophy delightfully stated, what seems like a happy ending “can very well feel empty when your mental state is in fucking shambles.” And, yeah. I think Simon’s lost magic and resulting lack of direction in life are part of why he’s so depressed and feeling “worthless” now (although, he is not worthless). The other reasons are all the myriad ways in which his childhood did not prepare him for life, and in fact, damaged him in several ways (thanks for nothing, Mage). It’s all hitting at once. I’m sorry, Simon.

What we do see in Wayward Son is that he still reflects on the Mage somewhat fondly. He can never forget everything he was taught, particularly when he still uses it to keep himself and his friends alive. He switches back into soldier mode so easily (Baz notices, realizes what Simon’s life must have been like while the Mage had him under his thumb). Simon in the United States is a Simon who plunges headfirst into adventure and the unexpected and the good fight, but not into anything that involves speaking to Baz and/or Penny. Good grief, please, Simon.

I was okay with other aspects of his journey being hinted at — curious and excited to see how it all plays out. @apostrophe-philosophy, you mentioned that water spirit recognizing him? So interested to see where that goes! The fact that Simon impacted magic all the way around the world? Does this mean he touched every corner of the globe with his explosions? With the Insidious Humdrum? How many more creatures know of him? Is he kinda part dragon now? He “gave back more” than he took? What? How? What?!

All of that is left for another book, and I’m cool with that. Less cool with other things being left hanging …

Simon is loved so profoundly by Baz and Penny, but that alone cannot fix him — it can keep him afloat at times, but those underlying issues are not going away because he has an awesome boyfriend and best friend. It is so damn gratifying to read a magical adventure tale that actually acknowledges this. I don’t mind my fluff when I can get it, but Carry On wasn’t about that life, and it would’ve felt disingenuous if Wayward Son was … but it wasn’t, so yes.

I agree with you, @apostrophe-philosophy, when you say that Wayward Son feels more mature. It’s not just that these characters are now “growing up” and trying to figure themselves out — it’s that they’re all such huge damn messes (love it), and that they’re mad at themselves (and sometimes each other) for not having their shit together. Mostly they’re angry at themselves and despairing of each other. And if that ain’t adult life, y’all … Geez.

“Yes, Carry On was full of life and magic. Wayward Son is, in the words of the humdrum, what’s left when you are done.” Well said, honey!

Ah, there are so many ways that Simon broke me — when he talks about how easy it is to kiss Baz, but being kissed  “suffocates” him? It felt like he couldn’t stand the loss of control again — it’s allowing something to happen to you, it’s revealing in ways you can’t control, which is the story of his entire life. When he and Baz are kissing in the aftermath of battle, when Simon feels the most like himself, when he doesn’t care and he’s just overjoyed to be awesome and alive and with Baz — he’s all over his boyfriend and loving both sides of that intimacy (that he initiates). But when that isn’t the case, when he’s back in that negative headspace, back to depression and anxiety and all the consequences that the Mage wrought … He needs control, and kissing is easier than being kissed. Easier than allowing yet another thing happen to him, being vulnerable and seen in his vulernability, particularly with Baz, who knows him and can see past his defences.

(The great irony, of course, is that Baz actually can’t see what’s going on with Simon. It’s entirely in Simon’s head, holy crap, boys, fucking talk to each other.)

That part where Penny thinks about Simon: “I don’t really care if you feel crazy—because crazy isn’t dead.” That part where Simon has to compromise his Mage-taught morals to fight with vampires against other vampires and he has to keep rationalizing why being in love with Baz is okay, and the proper ways to rescue people because that’s all he did as a child soldier in the Mage’s army, and as Baz has said about the Mage — may he rest in pain for so thoroughly fucking with Simon’s head when he was a child and in awe of him and just … gah. Fuck you, Davy.

Simon being ready to die, to live to the last second as the saviour because that’s all he thinks he’s good for — taking one more enemy down for his friends, for Baz … Damn it, Simon. I know he sucks at words, he’s admitted as much himself, but wow, any words would do, Simon. Any.

I live for aftermath, and watching Simon (not) deal is giving me all the feels. He really believes he’s less now that his purpose is fulfilled since he has no magic. And since he has/is less, he feels he should “set Baz free” and all that. He only feels like himself when he’s being a sword-fighting badass, rescuing people, being a soldier (again, fuck you, Davy) — and yeah, he is very skilled, even incredible at that, but that’s not why Baz and Penny love him. Simon, oh Simon. If you would just open your mouth and start talking about all of this, the world of good it would do you …

But, hey, you know who else stressed me out?

Tyrannus Basilton “Baz” Grimm Pitch, Fail Vampire (Except When Kicking Ass), Powerful Pitch Sorcerer, General Posh Representative of UK Mages

Baz, my crappy vampire, my brilliant pyro-mage. You need help as badly as your boyfriend does. Baz’s arc kills me in a different way than Simon’s — everything Simon is dealing with is somewhat expected, and I understand it well. I get what his issues are, and the ways he is (but more often, isn’t, so very much is not) coping with them (and definitely not actually healing from them).

Baz? Oooh man. There were the things I expected — being on the outside, watching Simon slowly go to pieces, feeling completely helpless and lost, not knowing what Simon wants or needs, and that includes whether Simon wants or needs him anymore …

And yes, dealing with striking out on his own, in defiance of his family and all other magical society expectations, which puts him on a rather solitary path (apart from the world he knew — at least he has Simon and Penny, Messes Though They Are).

But the other aspects of himself — as in, his vampire nature and how that plays on his mind? He was suicidal in Carry On because he believed that’s what his mother would have wanted, that the vampires in the UK were so low and beneath him, and he was a Pitch, so how could those pathetic creatures like Nicodemus also be him? I was hoping we would get into all of that that here … and man. Oh man.

How devastating was it to find out that Baz is actually physically unhealthy because he doesn’t feed properly? Because he had no one to teach him how to eat without killing or turning someone? How to eat non-blood food without his fangs showing? When Lamb didn’t quite believe that Baz was twenty, like, legit, he’s twenty, he’s a baby vampire … How small is the world of mages back in the UK? Baz wasn’t even allowed access to the Internet. Good grief, this guy is smart as a whip, but he knows almost nothing and it shows, but it wasn’t until he met the American vampires that it felt painful. I just want him to learn all the things. Simon wants that for him (albeit for reasons that amount to you’re better off without me), and it’s just … Give Baz some true vampire knowledge. Let him feed without killing or turning. Please, cut this boy some slack.

My heart broke to see all the ways Baz was just … missing vital parts of himself. It was killing me to watch him hungrily take in everything Lamb was telling him … He needs something or someone to inform him (who isn’t a raging douchebag like Lamb). There must be some half-decent vampire somewhere who can help. I feel like we’re in for a conflict with his Aunt Fiona, since she’s been vampire hunting this entire while … So, you know, more pain on the way.

I’m sure I’m not the first to say this, but I truly believe we have hints that Baz is more than just vampire or mage. The fact that he aged from when he was bitten, the fact that he can use magic (Nicodemus couldn’t, and we have it confirmed that vampires can’t) … Pretty sure there’s something going on there. He’s a hybrid? He’s a new species entirely? He’s something that NewBlood wants so badly, but they can’t get because it can’t be recreated in a lab?

Baz needs his own long, long period of coming to terms, and then doing something about all those things boiling beneath his skin, because, my dude, you are more than you realize, and that’s not just the vampire stuff I’m referring to, Baz. More than his family’s expectations. More than his magical world. More than Simon’s boyfriend.

Penelope Bunce also gave me feels — “I was never invincible. I was just in the vicinity.” Again, @apostrophe-philosophy, you nailed the issues surrounding her so well: “But Penelope A-Plan-And-Backup-For-Everything Bunce? Hitting the literal end of her rope? Letting us see that she’s perhaps the biggest fraud, who doesn’t know how to fake it till she makes it once her belief in her own abilities has started to waver, because she had never known failure before and is now confronted by it on so many fronts?” Much like you, I am totally on board for her coming into her own, learning from her failures and becoming that much capable and hopefully healthier as a result.

And Agatha Wellbelove, oh, Agatha, realizing that she is magic. That she can’t run from herself, but she can learn — I loved every cynical bit of her in this, but she still had the capacity to realize that she could do something, and she did something, and it was awe-inspiring. It was coated in regret, in self-flagellation of the highest order, and every belief that it would all end in flames, but she did it. Bless her for becoming the saviour of that day.

So we Carry On, Wayward Sons, But There’s No Sign of Peace Yet For When You’re Done?

I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again: I still feel like the lack of partial resolution to any of the emotional/psychological arcs drives me up the wall.

That being said, upon re-reading a few of my favourite passages/chapters, and re-reading the last quarter of the book … I will say that there’s a touch more resolution than I realized. Particularly for Simon

“It’s time for me to stop pretending that I’m some sort of superhero. I was that—I really was—but I’m not anymore. I don’t belong in the same world as sorcerers and vampires. That’s not my story … I think I’d rather get a job. Earn something for myself. Pay my own rent. It feels good to think about. It feels like—shit, I’m crying. It feels awful, but it feels clean.”

There’s a mess in that realization as well, but there’s also some clarity. No, Simon is not a superhero — nice, good! Also, he can belong with vampires and sorcerers, maybe, (Shepard is proof), but he doesn’t need to be the be-all-end-all hero/soldier of everyone around him, so there’s that realization at least.

But then it gets cut off shortly after (like, a couple of pages), so … I’m sighing big time here.

Baz gets even more heaped onto his shoulders. But I feel like for all he knows that he’s lacking significant knowledge on half of his identity, i.e. being a vampire, he knows that he doesn’t want to be either like NewBlood or like Lamb’s people. So. There’s that.

Penny gets brought low at the start and is … pretty much still there by the end, though saving Agatha is a plus one in her healing column, maybe? But everything else is just … there. It’s a shorter book — there was room to have one or two conversations? About one or two of these many issues? I’m not even saying those conversations had to go well — but at least informing the characters on a few of the problems that we, as the reader, can so clearly see? The plot was interesting, but sometimes it did feel a bit like a contrivance to keep the emotional arcs in suspension. Because they spent so many days on the road together, nights in motels, they were basically almost never apart for a significant amount of time and not once, until the end, did they try to talk out their shit in a real way.

Again, l love this book. I love so many things. I’m cool with cliff-hangers. But I feel like I needed at least partial resolution on a couple of things — a cliff-hanger after we got Simon acknowledging some parts of his issues and speaking them out loud to Baz? Or vice versa? Because they would be able to see each other’s problems more clearly — the misunderstandings might have continued, but along a different vein? Because, the thing is, acknowledging the problems is a thing, yes, but the healing from them part is the bigger, longer, more painful thing, and I feel like it’s just … so much to cover, and I would’ve liked a better grip on that healing process before the next book?

The third book may endear this second book to me further, but as of right now, it doesn’t quite stand alone for me. It feels a tad unfinished. Again, love so many moments in here, love the characters, including our new disaster friend, Shepard, but the book just feels like it cuts off far too abruptly.

But, to quote again from @apostrophe-philosophy: “I really just want a cast of characters who have actual fucking problems they can’t fix with love and friendship alone and to watch them get what they deserve by claiming it of their own accord. Not because it falls into their hands.”

I want that too, so badly. And I think we’re getting it — we definitely got a piece of that, a solid beginning of that in Wayward Son, and I am so, so hoping we get even more (way, way more) in the next book! (Books?)

Whew. And that is where I am stopping! That might be the end of my meta rope for this novel. Man, I love this book, and if anyone made it through this massive post, you’re amazing. Again, many thanks to @apostrophe-philosophy for adding onto to my previous essay with a beautiful and beautifully worded series of thoughts! *hugs* :)

[persephonesfill]

My OCs: TYatD

@anarchscry you asked for this very long post so you’ve made your bed, now lay in it. (jk jk i love you)

Osanna Gaza, 17 (on the verge of 18), She, Her, Hers. Osanna is the eldest child of Ivon Gaza (who is a fucking BITCH) and Adelina Gaza (who has never done anything wrong in her life ever). Osanna is the princess of Astoria (one of the kingdoms I created) but she’s not the heir to the throne since Astoria doesn’t practice equal primogeniture. She’s not bitter at all. Really. She has long golden blonde hair, dark blue eyes, tall, lithe stature and fair skin that tans easily (yes that’s relevant to the plot). Osanna is prone to bouts of jealousy and pettiness, especially when she doesn’t get her way. She’s headstrong and as stubborn as an ox, much to her father’s chagrin. It’s a struggle for him to get his daughter to do anything he wants. She isn’t all bad though. Osanna would do anything for her family, especially for her youngest brother, Eden, and isn’t one to balk at confrontation. Osanna is smart, resourceful, and ambitious. All she wants is to be recognized for her mind, which is her greatest strength, and she spends the majority of my book trying to get that recognition. She’s also bi as fuck 🌈🌈 I’m putting the rest under a read more bc holy fuck this got long 

Lani Neda, 17 (on the verge of 18), She, Her, Hers. Lani was orphaned at a very young age. Her parents were found mauled to death in her family home after they refused to let her leave home to attend the school meant for spellcasters secreted away in the mountains of Maras (another kingdom I created). Coincidentally, the caster who came to visit was also the one to pull her from the orphanage and take her to Magai (the school/city for casters) anyway. Totally not related at all. Lani was basically a child soldier, trained in magic, combat, and espionage, and only concerned with protecting the royal family of Maras, especially princess Mai, who’s her closest friend. Lani had short, dark, curling hair, brown skin, and eyes so brown that they appear black. She’s short but well-muscled from her training (and reliable palace meals). Not every orphan is as lucky.  Even when she's not aware of it, Lani carries herself like a soldier; back straight, firm stance and arms at her sides ready to salute or unsheathe her weapon at a moment's notice. Lani is quick on her feet, abrasive, and not the easiest person to get to know. All her life she's had her weaknesses exploited and vowed to never show weakness again. She's intuitive and relies more on instinct rather than logic. She's loyal to a fault and can be absolutely ruthless in battle, holding nothing back. Lani is brave and willing to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves. She's serious and seldom jokes around with others. She hates when people don't apply themselves or give up prematurely. She always gives it her all and expects everyone else to do the same. She values hard work, tenacity, and strength. She’s also gay as fuck (for Mai and later Osanna) 🌈🌈.

Aidan Aterra, 18, He, Him, His. Aidan, like Lani, is also an orphan, except he never knew his parents. His caretaker at the orphanage, Dame Mara Finch, or Dead-Eyes as the children called her behind her back for her pale grey eyes, said that he had been left out on the porch of the Foxbrook orphanage in the middle of one the worst blizzards Iskald (another kingdom) had ever seen. His lips had been bluer than death, his skin cold to the touch. She told him that she had contemplated leaving him outside and letting nature continue to run its course but as soon as she had turned around to close the door, the most ghastly wail had burst forth from his lips. He grew up in the orphanage constantly being reminded of her kindness and her generosity, even when he went to bed without supper, or was forced to sleep in the manor’s old dungeons when he misbehaved. When Aidan was ten, he had decided enough was enough and that he was going to run away from the orphanage, making it as far as to the marketplace of their town. Aidan tried to pickpocket a mercenary and ended up following him home instead. The mercenary, and his mercenary company, the Fox Claws, took him in and Aidan was raised in their life of killing, thieving, and the occasional case of vigilante justice. Normally, Aidan is a fun-loving and spontaneous boy who isn’t one to shy away from a party or conversation (only with people he’s let in).  He’s also observant, a trait that has saved his life more times than he can count. However, in extreme situations of distress, such as his childhood at the orphanage and his life after Asher’s disappearance, Aidan withdraws on himself. He’s more prone to risky behavior and uncaring about his wellbeing. He feels a growing numbness inside of his chest and wonders why he should even bother doing anything at all. He also experiences intense regret and self-loathing. He’ll never tell anyone though. Lord knows Dead-Eyes didn’t like criers. All Aidan’s life, he's been met with derision and prejudice due to him being an orphan and likely a bastard. His personality is a result of that. He's sarcastic. Evasive. Shuttered. He puts on a devil-may-care facade to keep others out. Although he can be selfless and kind around children, Aidan is usually self-concerned. He rarely thinks about the consequences of his actions. Some view him as brave for all of the dangerous situations he welcomes with open hands. Others think he's just plain stupid and has a death wish. Aidan always likes to jape that it's a little bit of both. Aidan has black hair that touches the tips of his ears, and strange eyes for an Iskali, who all typically have blue or gray eyes. Aidan's eyes are hazel. Not quite brown. Not quite green. That paired with the olive cast to his skin tone makes him an outsider among the Iskali. After the disappearance and suspected death of his best friend and partner in crime, for which he is the main suspect, all Aidan wants to die is fuck off from the main continent and drink his way into an early grave so he can be with his best friend, Asher, again. He’s also pan as fuck 🌈🌈

Kali Sylva, 16, She, Her, Hers. Kali is the daughter of Alwin Sylva and Tiatha Meimri, and the crown princess of Dererra (another kingdom. you get the idea). Kali is also the sole heir to the throne, due to her being the only child of Alwin and Tiatha. Her very existence is a bit controversial, at least in Dererra. Dererrans are extremely traditional (read: pretentious, prejudiced fucks) and expected for Alwin to marry a Dererran noblewoman. Instead, he married Tiatha, a Khosagho (another kingdom) native. Princess Kali Sylva is a walking contradiction. Quiet, yet opinionated. Shy, yet brave. Sweet, yet fierce. Kali has little confidence in herself and often thinks the worst of others—mainly because they assume the worst of her. Half-breed, they call her. Part Dererran, part Khosaghi. Kali is straightforward and doesn’t much care for silver-tongued folk. She likes to keep to herself and more often than not, prefers the company of animals over humans. She struggles with being from two different worlds and doesn’t feel as if she belongs anywhere. Around friends, Kali can let loose and be herself, and even be playful. With strangers, Kali is reserved and keeps to herself in fear of being reprimanded. Kali is prone to reading into something too much and jumping to conclusions. The only time she feels at peace with herself is when she’s in woodlands of her home with her bow in her hands. Part of her feels as if she doesn’t deserve the throne due to the years of scorn and derision she’s been faced with from other Dererrans. Kali has jet black hair, done in one of the traditional Khosaghi styles, with it being in long, uniform braids. She has smooth dark brown skin, and her father’s bright green eyes. Kali has broad shoulders and strong arms from years of firing a bow and elegant, high cheekbones. 

Cyd Pollock, 15 going on 16, He, Him, His. Cyd is the son of Myra, an innkeeper, and Cyrus Pollock, privateer turned full-blown pirate. For nine years of his life, Cyd never knew his father. It was just him, his mother, and their roadside inn, The Dirty Wolf, and that was all they needed. Everything was fine until a wave of influenza swept through western Masae and his mother, Myra, had fallen ill. Two weeks later, she passed away. Cyd was only nine. His father showed up a week later, stricken by grief, he took in his only son and raised him in the company of pirates, thieves, and murderers. Ever since then, Cyd has had to watch his back. He never knew what his father was like before the death of his mother. He’s only ever known a hard man who was impossible to please. The slightest toe out of line, and Cyd was subjected to cruel and unusual punishment. He learned to keep his mouth shut, don’t ask questions about his father’s “business” and to keep to himself. Cyd keeps to himself. As long as he asks no questions, as long as he doesn’t mouth off, he’s safe. Sometimes in particularly emotional moments he loses control and has a slip of the tongue; a witty comment here, a sarcastic barb there, and he takes the consequences every time. Cyd is very insecure and can’t help but care what people think about him, especially his father and his pirate crew. He hates how much he craves their approval but relishes the rare moments where he’s bestowed with praise. He’s smart though. Smarter than people give him credit. All the years he’s sat in silence, he’s picked up a few tricks from those around him. When he puts his mind to it, he can complete any task with accuracy and fervor. Cyd has wavy sandy hair that falls into his dark brown eyes. Cyd has fair skin and his body is speckled with freckles from spending hours upon hours out in the sun. He has rough, calloused hands from years of pulling and tying sailing ropes and hauling heavy cargo. He has many scars, most along his hands and wrist, although there is one particular scar below his bottom lip from where he had gotten a fish hook stuck in his face as a child. Cyd is relatively short, standing at about 5’9. He hasn’t yet hit his growth spurt. The last vestiges of youth are starting to fade though. The baby fat in his face is starting to melt away and revealing the shadow of a strong jaw. 

[sophfandoms53]

Endgame Talk

This little discussion is gonna have massive spoilers for Avengers Endgame. This is your warning if you have not seen the movie. If you haven’t seen it, just scroll all the way down as fast you can. If you have seen it or you don’t care about spoilers, then welcome! As for the rest of you, you have been warned.

Okay so. I know we’ve all got our own opinions on Endgame, the way the plot works, the way certain characters were treated, and especially with its ending.

I’ve read a lot of reviews and reactions about Endgame the past few days and in all honesty. There isn’t much I disagree with. A lot of the critiques given to the film are valid critiques. Some are just nitpicks that don’t really matter. But over all, the criticism is pretty fair.

In regards to the time travel, I barely understood how it worked in the film. All I know is that it worked and everyone came back. All I needa know lmao. I didnt understand time travel in back to the future, I didnt understand it in gravity falls, I didnt understand it in TMNT, I didnt understand it in Power Rangers, and I don’t understand it during this movie.

Time travel is a very difficult thing to figure out with story telling as every move made has its consequences. Which is why when I see people saying “The time travel in this movie created plot holes.” It makes me laugh because uh duh it’s time travel, of course it creates plot holes. We have yet to see any creator or writer do time travel and not have it cause plot holes or confusion. This doesn’t excuse said plot holes but it clears up that Endgame isn’t the first victim of the trouble time travel has on its story.

Okay let’s talk about Tony and Steve’s endings.

Oh boy.

I’ll start with Steve because right now I ain’t ready to talk about Tony.

Steve went back in time to put the infinity stones in their proper places before the team originally went back to bring everyone back and he was suppose to come right back to the present (or future in their case) but he doesn’t. Instead he stays in the 70’s (which is when he and tony got the Tesseract) and forms a relationship with Peggy and when we see him again in present (future) time he’s the age he would be if he was never frozen back in the 40’s.

Now, while I do agree this causes a lot of confusion in regards to events in Civil War and such but. That’s our timeline. What happened with Steve staying back in the 70’s was that he created an alternate time line where, all the events we all saw still exist, but he was able to live a happy marriage with Peggy. Or at least that’s how I saw it honestly. Steve staying in the 70’s didn’t change or alter anything in the main timeline. We know this because we saw that nothing changed.

Also. Steve never belonged in this time period anyway. In The First Avenger, Steve is fighting in WW2 and it’s a soldier. He was meant to be in the 40’s but he made a sacrifice that caused him to wake up in modern day. And while Steve did a lot as Captain America, that doesn’t change that this isn’t where he belongs. He watched as everyone in his past was either changed (Bucky being mind controlled) or lost (Watching Peggy die). Steve’s entire past kept coming back to haunt him. Which is why he took the opportunity to stay in the 70’s with Peggy. To give himself a happy ending. This was something foreshadowed throughout the film as well.

Now. Lets talk about the big one.

Tony Stark.

Firstly.

UM OW????? MARVEL YOU LEGIT RIPPED MY HEART OUT FROM MY CHEST AND STEPPED ON IT AND THREW IT IN THE STREET TO GET RUN OVER BY A CAR! HOLY SHIT THAT HURT. AND LIL BABY PETER PARKER CLINGING TO TONY DIDNT HELP NONE. GAH MY HEARTT. IM STILL CRYING OVER THIS

Okay. Now that that’s out. Lets talk Tony Stark.

Imma be real. The minute Morgan Stark (whom is adorable and needs absolute protection) popped out of the tent, I knew Tony’s fate. I had a huge feeling Tony wasn’t gonna make it out. And it hurt that I was right.

However, as much as it hurt to see Tony die, to see him make the last sacrifice, it makes sense both for story telling and within Tony’s arc as a character.

We’ve watched Tony grow from an arrogant man who didn’t really care for the world around him but his industry, to someone who wants what’s best for his family, who became a mentor of a young kid with a lot of potential to the point that only Tony really believed in him and who wants to protect the world.

We saw Tony go through this arc from beginning to end.

Tony’s never had it easy in his life. He lost a lot, he fought a lot, and he stressed a lot. Tony, throughout these films, has never had a proper time to relax and appreciate what he has because he was always fighting to protect himself, the ones he loves and the world. It got to the point in Iron Man 3 that Tony began losing sleep and could not rest because of all the torment he has been through.

Keep in mind Iron Man 3 takes place The Avengers and what happened in Avengers? Loki and a huge attack on New York that only they could stop. And who sent Loki on this attack?

Thanos.

It always comes back to Thanos.

Joe Rousso confirmed back during Infinity War that Thanos and Tony have connection.

In the sense of story telling, Thanos acts as a foil to Tony.

In an interview, one of the Rousso’s said:

“It’s all the heroes. I think he has the most specific connection to Tony because Tony is a futurist, and he has predicted a threat like Thanos. It’s lived in his brain even though he couldn’t name it. Tony is the most desperately driven, down to the core, to react against something like Thanos, although all the heroes will face a threat, no matter who it is or where it comes from. But I think this is intrinsic to Tony’s psychology, and because Tony started it all with Iron Man, he has a special connection to the threat that’s facing him."

Despite not meeting until Infinity War, Thanos and Tony have always had a connection. Thanos was the one that kept Tony restless. The reason he stressed everyday. Thanos was the reason Tony has to witness the loss of all his allies and surrogate son.

It’s all been Thanos.

The reason I call Thanos Tony’s foil is because of this connection.

Thanos and Tony have similar goals. They both believe what they’re doing is the greater good for the world. There’s a connection between them because of how they both think and operate. It’s why Thanos tells Tony he has respect for him in Infinity War. Thanos understands Tony’s view. And because he understands, Thanos serves to show Tony, and the audience what Tony would’ve become had he not grown and became obsessed with “balance” instead of the greater good.

In doing so, Thanos couldn’t live in a world without Tony and Tony couldn’t live in a world without Thanos.

Now I know some of you are probably like, “But Tony did live in a world without Thanos. He spent 5 years without Thanos around.”

and you’re right.

Technically, you’re right.

However.

Even within those 5 years, Tony was still haunted by what Thanos did. How Thanos won and that they lost. We saw throughout Endgame that Tony never forgave himself for what happened and especially for what happened to Peter.

Despite Thanos being dead, Tony is still haunted at the memory of Thanos and all the damage he created.

Hence why Peter was Tony’s main motivation throughout the film. When the team attempts to ask Tony for help regarding time travel, Tony declines as he says his too risky and because he doesn’t want to lose what he has now. Which is Pepper and Morgan.

His wife and daughter mean more to Tony than anything. We’ve seen Tony’s love for Pepper grow and we saw how much Tony loves his daughter. I love you 3000!

He got 5 happy years with them. Tony had his happy ending for as long as he could. Until once again, Thanos’ actions came back to haunt him. Seeing, remembering, that Peter was one of the people that were lost during Infinity War, the kid Tony grew to love as a son, and looked over and mentoured, Tony never stopped working on trying to bring Peter back. Without Peter, Tony felt like he failed.

At the end of the day Tony wasn’t worried about himself, he wanted Peter safe and sound. He wanted the world to be saved.

Tony needed closure. He needed to know the evil that haunted him for years was gone. He needed to know that his family and friends were safe. He needed to know that he fought until his end. And he did just that.

Tony Stark never ever stopped fighting. Ever.

Which is why Tony makes the ultimate sacrifice.

Using the stones and losing his own life.

Yes it hurt. A lot. It affected us and the characters in the film. But that’s how Tony’s arc was suppose to end.

It’s why Pepper said, “You can rest now.”

Tony fought Thanos non-stop for years and years on end. He never thought he could be at peace. But when he saw all his loved ones around for him, especially Pepper, his loving wife and Peter, the boy he risked everything for, and that they were officially safe and the monster that haunted him could no longer harm his family. He go be at peace.

He could pass on peacefully.

Tony Stark learned to love. Learned to care. Learned to grow. Learned that you’re not always alone.

Tony Stark learned all that he needed to in order make the final sacrifice in order to kill Thanos.

Tony Stark put the world’s protection before his own life.

Tony Stark is the true super hero.

His final words,

“And I... Am Iron Man.”

Were that for a reason, not just as a call back to he ending of the first film.

Those were his final words because Iron Man is not Tony Stark.

Tony Stark is Iron Man.

Tony Stark is the hero.

It’s the lesson Tony taught Peter with the phrase, “If you’re nothing without this suit than you shouldn’t have it.”

It’s not the suit that makes the superhero, but the person who wears it.

Tony Stark wears the Iron Man armor.

Tony Stark is the hero, not Iron Man.

Tony Stark’s arc has concluded.

There is no denying the pain and tears that were felt and shed during Tony’s death. But it was his time to go.

It was Tony’s time to rest.

Tony Stark fought and lived hard.

Tony Stark died happy, at peace and as a hero.

~We love you 3000 Tony~

Thanks for reading this far if you did. This is just my take on the film. Don’t take it as fact alright. What did you guys think of Endgame?

[deliciousscaloppine]

Unclean Realm II

Part 1

The nieyao i’ve been saying i am going to write. It will alternate between the perspectives of Mingjue and Meng Yao. It starts from the last part of the previous cycle that was mostly from Huaisang’s pov.  Meng Yao has now his own room and thinks about his mother and his life in the Unclean Realm. Nie Mingjue gazes his mighty fortress from one of Qinghe’s cliffs and thinks about Huaisang growing up and his budding love for Meng Yao.

Nie Huaisang might appear tender and oblivious, but he is not. And he feels that somehow he is at fault for that. Looking back on his life, the hardships he faced had hardened him as a man. Everytime he had to take a step forward and lead, he felt like he was leaving something behind. Something important and vital for happiness. It had not bothered him until now, when things sometimes became so quiet that it was easy to notice the sound of crickets at night. 

The Wen were folding in, back at Qishan, readying themselves for something. But for a while a strange peace would last and honestly he felt lost in it.

The days of discipline and exercise in the courtyard, suddenly seemed vacant and fleeting like dreams. The banquets and the receptions of the many emmissaries, all the vital preparations for their ancient conflict went and passed almost unnoticed to him. He had succeeded. Unclean Realm was a seamless kingdom where everyone knew their place, and acted accordingly. He did not have to admonish and coerce anyone into cooperation.

Sometimes at night that thought made for a strange sensation. Like rain washing away the anger that he had collected on him like dust. Since he was a child, he has been carrying this anger, for the lonely and humiliating demise of his father at the hands of the Wen. For the life and family they had robbed from him. 

All that was slipping slowly away. So it seemed to him a great injustice that as he softened, Nie Huaisang hardened. He knew it all along he wouldn't remain a child. At least not in the Unclean Realm, where the red dust is mixed with blood.

But he had hoped Huaisang, who had never shown an affinity for war, would be spared. Perhaps it's for the best though, for who is to say he won't meet his demise sooner or later. And then Huaisang will have to assume these solemn duties, and pretend to be a warlord, when in reality he is something greater than that.

When he gets so vexed at him for one babyish thing or the other, he is immediately reminded of the first time he held him, a tiny infant wrapped in a tight bundle. How innocent he had been. Holding him in his arms he thought that's how all people start. Tiny, defenseless and tender, no evil in their hearts.

Mingjue had already seen several people die by the time he got to hold his baby brother. He had seen the executions of the criminals, and he had seen the bodies of their victims. He had seen fallen soldiers in battle, and lifeless corpses of elderly relatives, retired on their beds. So the small baby in his arms seemed something so utterly precious.

Finer than the best blade, prettier than the handsomest armor, more refined and cultured than all the art in the world. He swore to protect him then, even with his life, but now he realizes you can't protect anyone from the world. And maybe that's not the point of love. Maybe love means sometimes leading a person through suffering if that can hone their soul. And maybe Huaisang is doing right preparing himself with ordeals he makes up himself.

High up here on the cliff by the temple he can see all of the fortress and he feels the charge of thunder and lightning out in the desert. So maybe all these anguished thoughts are waiting for the rain to wash them away. To sweep the dust that hasn't settled yet from the previous storm.

Nie Mingjue feels lonely and open, like all his strength is gone. On top of the cliff he sees the large world he has created, with its many soldiers and attendants, officials and disciples, and nowhere in it is there a place for him to stand. In more ways than one Huaisang better fits this gameboard of black and white pieces dancing around each other.

And maybe all this vexation is just jealousy in reaction to Huaisang's childish envy. For Huaisang envies, there is no doubt of it. He envies deeply and is torm from it. He envies the things he does not have, not even pausing to take pride in the things that already his. Huaisang envies and Mingjue is jealous. And this matter is not a dark spot on a perfect piece of jade. It's something infinitely more sinister, like an evil serpent opening its poisonous mouth and showing its teeth at them. He aims to cut off this head, this ugliness before it distorts them both.

Growing up he had heard many stories of brothers who went to war over something as silly as a handsome horse. Of sticks of incense stuck between the layers of silken sleeves to burn an arm for a silly, jealous offense. The impurity of these things had left a bad taste in his mouth. He will not let this bile stain their mouths.

The coveted object here is not a horse, or an elegant lady, it's not some beautiful scroll, or a pretty piece of silk brocade, or even as something important as a throne. Who would argue for the throne of Qinghe, who would crave its responsibilities? Instead in prince Huaisang's heart a feud is brooding for a young boy, a very handsome young boy.

The very same face that had made Nie Mingjue cease wondering what was the fancy of pretty things. A face like a holy image, a face that evokes the most pious feelings in him. He thinks of Huaisang in his room of earthly treasures, shoving this great gift on him magnanimously, only to scowl and fret for its absence the very next day. It makes him laugh. It really makes him laugh. But how can he fault him? Meng Yao was supposed to be his, he has become something like a favorite treasure. It's a meaningless sacrifice to ask children to give up their treasures.

And now that Huaisang has piantly placed Meng Yao in his hands, as a debt of gratitude repaid, he'll snoop around sometimes seeking to catch a glimpse of him; scrunching his face and saying “this gift is not very good, please return it to me.” He wishes he could scold him for such inconsistent behavior, but Huaisang is not entirely in the wrong. Meng Yao is young, almost as young as Huaisang. He knows music and poetry and can appreciate the weave of a silk and the glaze of porcelain. Is he not most like him? By this similarity does he not stake his claim?

And how all the more precious Meng Yao is for all the things he has been through. Things little Huaisang can’t even imagine. Mingjue appreciates him as he would his luck for finding a pearl in the dust of the road. A pearl that rolled all the way to Qinghe once, kicked by the footsteps of strangers. Mingjue feels funny. As funny as if he had given this pearl to Huaisang only to try and pry it later from his hand, crying and pouting “Mine.” Who is now the incosistent one?

It brings shame to him. And a little happiness. It's like his body is shedding the war and he finds under it things he thought lost. Meng Yao smiles, bright-eyed and welcome it feels like peace. Like there is a place for something other than wrath in this life. It shouldn't embarrass him, it shouldn't make him afraid. If anything it proves that Nie Mingjue didn't leave all behind. He is still tender and soft like way back when he was a child. Like Nie Huaisang once was.

                                                         ......

Meng Yao has been remembering his mother lately. Ever since he came to Qinghe he has not been very filial. And it pains him. He has not only bent his back to the people who blacken her memory with their insults. For is it not the same as if he were ashamed of her, if he does not remember her because the words of the world pain him? All the uncouth tongues of Qinghe striking at him from the darkness like a thousand lashings have broken his spirit as well. 

He should have been a proud son, and not let those others stop him from honoring her memory.

Well, now that he has a room of his own, a room he can be by himself, he sets a memorial plaque for her and begs for forgiveness. 

“I am sorry, mother, I could not pray for you, please, forgive your ungrateful son.” he begs. 

And he knows how hard it is to ask things from the dead, because every ommission leaves less of their soul behind. Whom did his mother have to remember her? And how dare he endanger her for trivial pride. 

But the grief he is feeling, is not really for her. He remembers now with her name before him when he was old enough to help her dress, how happy he had been. His mother had been the most beautiful woman in the world. As she let him put pins in her hair he truly could not imagine a reason why his father would scorn her so. So he attended her, hoping to make up for his father’s lacking. And this fate of the attendant follows him still. 

His first work when he was old enough to know such a concept was to mix her cosmetics and apply them on her face. To make her tea and make sure she ate. To fold her clothes and make her bed. To wash her hair and comb it. At first she would gently admonish him. She would tell him that such work was unfit for a proper gentleman. But as life sipped out of her it became more and more necessary to do these things for her. And Meng Yao had felt so guilty as if he was offering her to death. To all these men who came.

Looking back at it, maybe he deserved to be kicked down the Carp Tower’s stairs. Maybe he deserved to die too. When he arrived at Qinghe he thought about death a lot. It was a long way from Lanling and he had nothing. He had to do at least some impure things to live. He stole, he cheated and he even let strangers touch his body. In fact if there had never been a war with Qishan, if there had never been the promise of suffering, he wouldn't have come to Qinghe at all.

But there was a war, and people were dying, and the lords of the Nie Clan were recruiting soldiers. When he appeared before the elderly gentleman who recruited for the Nie, he turned him immediately away. He said “You are too young.” Meng Yao had wanted to laugh. If he knew the things I did, he wouldn't say that. 

He had smiled and bowed instead. “I know how to read and write” he said. “I am small and inconspicuous and have traveled all the way from Yunping. I know how to attend. I can attend you in the battlefield”

The elderly gentleman had been so impressed. He brought him to the Unclean Realm and began teaching him the blade and the sword. Meng Yao made tea for him, and washed his clothes, he brought his meals and wrote his letters, he read to him and very often they conversed on theoritical matters of strategy and diplomacy. And Meng Yao had been truly happy. The man had been almost like a father to him. 

He beat him of course, but these elderly masters were all alike. They beat all the students even if they excelled.

Then little Huaisang had happened, and he attended him too. It was the simplest thing in the world. It was like being given a doll and asked to play with it. Little Huaisang was so small and delicate, it was a pleasure holding his hand to take him to practice, to pick and fold his clothes, to bring him food and tea. He still lived with the elderly master, who had taken the auspicious title of Captain of the Guard. He had thought with his new duties, he would surely be promoted fast, maybe even take the old master's place in the far future. But then the master’s son had arrived.

This room, reminded him of that room the three of them shared. The son was but a boy his age, and he treated Meng Yao like a servant. And slowly but surely the old master had started treating him like a servant too. He felt no longer pride when his student excelled at practice. For the first time he saw in the old master's eyes envy. As they trained side by side, the master would scold his son. “Do you think you will ever amount to anything when you are not as good as Meng Yao?”

He dreaded these words, he looked at the son's expression hardening at them. He was not unskilled at all, he just couldn't drive the blade all the way through the practice log. “You'll never sever the enemy's spine” the master would say.

“An enemy you injure, but not kill, is an enemy who will take your life tomorrow”

And the master’s son looked at him when his father spoke. Meng Yao hacked all the practice logs thinking: Maybe this will protect me. Maybe he'll fear me. Maybe he'll leave me alone. Because every night, when all three returned to the same room he had to listen at that son complain “Who is this Meng Yao? He's but a whore's son.” And Meng Yao would smile and serve their meal.

The story he had once sobbed to his master, the one he had consoled him for, had now become the entire camp's joke. He never believed the man who had been so kind to him, would bear to see him endure such humiliation. But Meng Yao was talented, and his son was not. And the master had wanted his son to succeed him, not a whore's son. He had cried so many nights, crouching behind the well he was fetching water from.

“I know your ways” the son had told him and Meng Yao had to be reminded of the impure things. The things that he had thought would not define him. So they had fought, and the master had lashed his back for it until he was too injured to keep on practicing the next day. He had gone to live at the barracks with his head held high, almost proud of what he had endured, but he was still so young and the men at the barracks were so mean. The insults burned his ears so much that when the war came again he was happy to be sent to the battlefields.

He enjoyed doing every menial work, even if it was for the men who were insulting him. He broke his back silently going back and forth between the river and the camp, the forest and the camp, across the fronts, burning his fingers and sleeping outside in the cold. And then Nie Mingjue had noticed him. It seems the rumors had crawled all the way to his ears, but he did not shun him for them. In fact he thought of him as something exceptional and entirely out of the ordinary for these ordeals he had suffered.

He had given to him Huaisang's care fully. And at that Meng Yao had marveled. He always ached for the little, elegant prince who had never known a mother, or a father, who everyone doted on yet couldn't console. The little brat that never slept, who argued with the same intensity he cowered, who played with him as if they were friends, and was curious without ever being offending.

Attending the little boy had only renewed his respect for Nie Mingjue. The Nie Clan was way more austere than the Jin, much more restrained, they truly valued their members. But he had never expected for someone as important as Nie Mingjue to love the little Huaisang.

When the war had swept over Qinghe, and Huaisang was stranded at Gusu, Nie Mingjue seemed like he couldn't go on. Like everything he strove to protect was missing and with it his very strength was gone. Meng Yao would never imagine anything out of place in the hearts of the Jin, just because he was not eating in the same room as them, just because he was not sleeping near their rooms. It had made him infinitely more lonely to think that.

Little Huaisang was at Gusu, the most refined place under the heavens. He was safe and warm, others took care of his needs and worried over him. He didn't have to see war, he didn't have to wade through mud. Yet his brother suffered, just because he didn't breathe the same air as him. It had made him so very determined to bring the little boy back, to know that he could grant this happiness to Nie Mingjue.

But when they finally returned back to Qinghe something was missing again, this time from him. He had lost something walking along Huaisang. For he had no family and seeing the family of others, even if they were people he liked, pained him like a blade stuck to his breast. And little Huaisang he wanted more and more, things he could not give him, because he never had them in the first place. It became more and more confusing to attend him, to pay mind to every detail, to shut his ears to the outside world. At times he felt like one of Huaisang's beautiful birds, all stuck in cages to amuse the little prince.

Huaisang would sometimes find one or two dead in the morning. He would bring them out tenderly and bury them in the yard. “It seems this one couldn't last” he would say serenely as if such a thing was normal and to be expected. Even then he would try to thaw that sadness that was so deep inside him. 

And then Nie Huaisang had to grow up and become curious about the improper things. He had to ask questions and try to pry away answers, he looked at pages in books and then tried to imagine illustrations in real life. He angered and fretted as if Meng Yao was keeping a beautiful earthly treasure away from him.

He snapped at him as if he was a servant because he wouldn't show him a thing or two, like the devoted maids, and the cheeky schoolboys in his books. It had made him so very tired. He would have really liked to tell him how it really was for someone like him; to have someone paw at you for food, to love a boy who would detest you, to rest with a fumbling soldier for warmth, to have your mother taken away from you because the man she fell in love wouldn't do her the smallest favor. To know that the world is not a decent place, but an orgy of hate and greed and it makes a whore out of everyone.

But who could say these things to a small boy who had lived a life caged in. Meng Yao was a bird of the road, any man with a bow could shoot him if he so pleased, for fun or for a meal. At these thoughts his mind turned again to Nie Mingjue. The noble brother, the good brother. The brother who kept little Huaisang like a fine hunting hawk, away from the hardship of life. Teaching him to be a little killer as he angered and fretted and tried to squirm away.

His own brothers at Carp Tower were kept similarly. Finely fed, and finely rested, trained to have the world as their prey. Who knew if one day on some hunt they didn't happen upon Meng Yao, the bird of the road. What would they do then? 

These worries that come with injustice, these great repetitions throughout time have worn him down. Sometimes it seems his life will slip away like this, in the worry others make for him. But he knows how to attend. And now he attends noble Nie Mingjue, who like his brother is seeking something Meng Yao doesn't have.

Meng Yao looks down at his empty hands and hopes his thoughts were a tangible thing. Something he could coat in mother of pearl and then crush it in his very hands until they its nothing. If he does not succeed he is not sure he will survive and if anything he owes it to his mother to live.

[bamby0304]

The Hart III- Secrets

Chapter Twelve- Or Treat

Series Masterlist

Summary: Three months… Dean was gone for three months and now he’s back. He’s back and he truly has no idea how much things have changed. Life moved on while Dean was in Hell, and now things are complicated. With new faces and troubles right around the corner, will the trio find a way to come back together? Or has all hope been lost?

Warnings: Angst. Violence.

Bamby

EPOV

"Excuse me?" I spoke up for the first time, looking to each angel. "So, what? Just because of this seal, this thing you might not be able to deal with in time... you decided to kill off everyone in the town?"

"We're out of time. This witch has to die, the seal must be saved," Castiel told us simply, as if that justified their plan, justified everything they've ever done.

"There are a thousand people here," Sam argued.

"One thousand, two hundred, fourteen," Uriel corrected, but the number seemed to have no effect on him what so ever.

Looking over at him, Sam frowned, confused- and if I wasn't mistaken... disappointed. "And you're willing to kill them all?"

"This isn't the first time I've… purified a city," Uriel told him matter-of-factly.

"Look, I understand this is regrettable," Castiel started, only to be cut off sharply by Dean.

"Regrettable?"

"We have to hold the line. Too many seals have broken already."

"So, you screw the pooch on some seals and this town has to pay the price?"

"It's the lives of one thousand against the lives of six billion," Castiel countered, not seeing how this might upset us. "There's a bigger picture here."

Dean shook his head, looking to both angels. "Right, cause you're 'bigger picture' kind of guys."

Castiel took a step closer to Dean, a sense of power radiating off him as he spoke. "Lucifer cannot rise. He does and hell rises with him. Is that something that you're willing to risk?"

The thing is, it didn't matter what Castiel, Uriel or any angel did or said. Sam, Dean and I... we cared about everyone. Including the one thousand two hundred and fourteen people in this town at this very moment. Their lives were worth just as much as anyone else's.

"We'll stop this witch before she summons anyone. Your seal won't be broken and no one has to die," Sam assured them, trying to convince them that their plan was not the only way to go.

Patience running on long, Uriel turned to Castiel. "We're wasting time with these mud monkeys."

"I'm sorry, but we have our orders," Castiel noted... though I couldn't help but noticed the fact that he'd directed the words to Uriel, and not to us...

Sam shook his head, still adamant about saving the town and its people. "No, you can't do this, you're angels, I mean aren't you supposed to- You're supposed to show mercy."

Uriel scoffed. "Says who?"

"We have no choice," Castiel added. It occurred to me then that he might not want to do this, he just had to. It was his job to do what he was told and not ask questions. He was a solider, not a saviour.

"Of course you have a choice." Dean didn't seem to see what I could. He just saw two emotionless angels who didn't care what happened to any of us humans. "I mean, come on, what? You've never questioned a crap order, huh? What are you both, just a couple of hammers?"

"Look, even if you can't understand it, have faith. The plan is just."

"How can you even say that?" Sam asked him.

"Because it comes from heaven, that makes it just."

"Oh, it must be nice, to be so sure of yourselves." The look Dean gave Castiel as he spoke, it was on the edge of pure hate and anger. He did not like the angels.

Stepping up at Dean once more, Castiel surprised me with what he said next, "Tell me something, Dean, when your father gave you an order, didn't you obey?"

It took a moment before Dean answered. He stood there, looking at Castiel, trying not to react as he thought it all over. When he finally did speak, there was no changing his mind, "Well sorry boys, looks like the plans have changed."

"You think you can stop us?" Uriel looked both amused and annoyed. As if we were children trying to do things on our own, but messing everything up as we went along.

Dean turned to the other angel, standing his ground. "No." He stepped over to Uriel. "But if you're gonna smite this whole town, then you're gonna have to smite us with it, because we are not leaving. See, you went to the trouble of busting me out of hell. I figure I'm worth something to the man upstairs. So you wanna waste me, go ahead, see how he digs that."

"I will drag you out of here myself," Uriel warned.

"Yeah, but you'll have to kill me, then we're back to the same problem. I mean, come on, you're gonna wipe out a whole town for one little witch. Sounds to me like you're compensating for something." Dean turned back to Castiel. "We can do this. We will find that witch and we will stop the summoning."

Standing there, looking at Dean, Castiel thought it over. That in itself was a big feat

"Castiel! I will not let these-"

Before Uriel could finish, Castiel raised his hand to cut him off. "Enough!" he ordered, stilling looking to Dean. "I suggest you move quickly," was all he had to say.

...

As we left the hotel room- both Uriel and Castiel now gone- Sam, Dean and I walked over to Baby... the hood now covered in smashed eggs.

I shook my head, stepping up to the hood. "You've got to be kidding me."

Sam didn't even stop, simply moved to the passenger seat and got in. But Dean? He was clearly pissed, and I had a feeling the angels weren't helping the situation. The fact it was his baby that had been hit was the worst of it. He loved this car more than anything, it was practically the brothers' home.

Looking around for the culprit, Dean yelled, "Astronaut!"

Sighing, I walked over to rest a hand on his arm in the hopes of calming him a little. "Come on. We don't have much time left, and we need to find this witch."

Taking a deep breath, he gave a short nod and followed me as we got into the car- him in the front and me in the middle of the back seat. Once we were in, he turned to Sam who was looking down at the hex bag that had been meant for us. I couldn't help but noticed the fact the younger Winchester seemed a little upset.

"What?" Dean asked him.

Sam shook his head. "Nothing." He took a breath, smiling lightly even though we all knew he wasn't amused. "I thought they'd be different."

Dean looked at him confused. "Who, the angels?"

"Yeah," Sam answered simply.

It had been the first time Sam had met the angels, but Dean and I had encountered Castiel on more than one occasion now. Each time I met the angel he was as emotionless and robot like as every other time. There was nothing there. Like he was a perfectly made machine that did as it was told and felt nothing. All he saw was the mission. All he thought about was how to please the people- or beings- above him. There was nothing there. Just a soldier ready to be put to work.

I can understand why Sam might be disappointed. I remembered the case we were on a few years back, when we thought we were dealing with an angel when it had really been the spirit of a priest who had been killed and was trying the write the wrongs of his community. Sam had confessed that he prayed, and that he wanted to believe. That he did believe.

As some stage, I had too. Growing up, after my father had died, my mum had turned to religion. She'd practically dived head first into it. Church and prayers were cemented into my upbringing, and there was honestly nothing wrong with that. It didn't do me any harm.

But at some point in my life, I think I just gave up. In believing in the good. Now that I'd met some angels, I didn't regret my decision. Sure, they might be real. But were they good?

"Well, I tried to tell ya," Dean noted. He had tried to tell Sam. But his brother had been hopeful that he was wrong.

"I just..." shaking his head, Sam looked down at the hex bag in his hand, "I mean, I thought they'd be righteous."

"Well," Dean shrugged, "they are righteous. I mean, that's kinda the problem." When Sam looked to him, he explained what he meant, "Of course there's nothing more dangerous than some a-hole who thinks he's on a holy mission."

"But, I mean, this is God? And Heaven? This is what I've been praying to?" Sam sounded utterly disappointed.

"Look man, I know you're into the whole God thing, you know, Jesus on a tortilla and stuff like that. But just because there's a couple of bad apples doesn't mean the whole barrel's rotten. I mean, for all we know, God hates these jerks. Don't give up on this stuff, is all I'm saying. Babe Ruth was a dick but baseball's still a beautiful game."

I reached over and gave Dean a pat on the shoulder. "Such beautiful words."

Dean rolled his eyes, starting the ignition. "Shut up," he mumbled.

Sam chuckled lightly, looking back down at the hex bag to open it up and fiddle with the bone that had sat inside it and was now between his two fingers.

Putting the car in reverse, Dean turned to his brother for a moment. "Well, are you gonna figure out a way to find this witch, or are you just gonna sit there fingering your bone?"

"You know how much heat it would take to char a bone like this, Dean?"

"No."

Something in me clicked at Sam's question. It was like I'd just figured something out, but I just didn't know what that was exactly.

Frowning, I leaned closer to grab the bone from Sam to get a better look. "No oven could do this. The heat would have to be extreme."

"Exactly." Sam nodded.

Dean looked between the two of us. "Okay, Betty Crocker one and two, so what does that mean?"

Sam grabbed the bone from me again as he turned to his brother once more. "It means we make a stop."

DPOV

Back at the high school and in the art room, I walked over to one of the kilns while Liz and Sam headed over to Don's desk. The two seemed to have an idea of what the hell was going on, while I was still wondering why we were here exactly.

"So, Tracy used the kiln to char the bone, what's the big deal?" I asked, looking inside the kiln before moving over to join them at the desk.

The two of them while rifling through the desk drawers, but it was Sam who answered. "Dean, that hex bag turned up in our room, not after we talked to Tracy-"

I cut him off, nodding now that I understood. "After we talked to the teacher."

"Hey." Sam gestured to a locked drawer.

"I got it." Liz only had to look at the lock before it unlocked.

She's getting stronger...

Opening the drawer, Sam paused the moment we all looked down at the bowl of bones sitting there. One of them were charred while the others weren't, but they were all small. Just like the ones from the hex bags.

"My God." Sam stood up. "Those are all from children."

I sighed, looking down at them. "And I'm guessing he's not saving them for the dog."

EPOV

Dean, Sam and I lifted our guns and shot at Don right before he had the chance to stab Tracy. We'd found the two in Don's basement. He was chanting an incantation while Tracy struggled against the binds around the wrist as they kept her on her feet and unable to escape. The gag on her mouth had stopped her from calling out for help. Luckily, we'd made it in time to keep Don from finishing the ritual, and killing her.

I guess we were wrong... Tracy isn't the witch. I thought as I put my gun away.

Dean- his gun now away as well- moved to cut the rope tied around her wrists, setting her free. Sam checked Don to make sure he really was dead, while I moved over to take a look at the ritual table. I didn't touch anything- I wasn't sure what it might do- I simple looked.

Tracy ripped the gag off. "Thank you, he was gonna kill me! Ugh, that sick son of a bitch." She looked down at Don. "I mean, did you see what he was doing? Did you hear him? How sloppy his incantation was?" I froze, turning to her. "My brother-"

Dean, Sam and I all reacted at once. The brothers moving for their guns while I went to throw Tracy across the room.

Unfortunately, she was powerful. With a few quick witchy words and a wave of her hand, she had the brothers flying back and hitting the ground hard. This was all done in the mere seconds it took before I had her shoved to the ground as well.

Looking up at me, stunned, a small smirk played on her lips as she pulled herself back to her feet. "Well, look what we have here."

She must have seen that I was about to do something else to her, because before I could actually do it, I found myself been thrown to the floor by the brothers, face down, the strength of the hold keeping me there almost enough to crush my spine.

The brother's struggled and groaned, both of them watching me with worried and protective eyes.

DPOV

Sam and I couldn't move. Well, we could barely move. We could wriggle and struggle, but that was it. But we both wanted to move. Not only to kill this witch, but to help Liz. I knew she still had a lot of fight in her, but with the hold Tracy had on her... there was nothing Liz could do at this stage. She was as helpless and stuck as both Sam and I.

"Silly girl." Tracy shook her head, looking down at Liz as if she was simply annoying. Sighing, she turned to Don. "Now, you." She glared at his body. "He was gonna make me the final sacrifice," she told us. "His idea. But now, that honour goes to him. Our master's return? The spell-work's a two-man job you understand, so for six hundred years I had to deal with that pompous son of a bitch.

"Planning, preparing, unbearable." She knelt down, grabbing the chalice and knife he'd dropped, while Sam and I continued to groan in pain as she held up down. "The whole time I wanted to rip his face off." Digging into the bullet wound in Don's chest so the blood would pour into the chalice, she chuckled lightly. "And you get him with a gun, uh, love that." Standing, she moved over to the altar table. "You know, back in the day, this was the one day you kept your children inside. Well tonight you'll all see what Halloween really is."

She began to chant something in what I guessed was Latin, but my attention wasn't on her. Instead I watched as Sam fought against her hold enough so that he could reach his hand over to the blood pooling under Don, and then wipe the blood on his face.

"What are you doing?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

"Just follow my lead," Sam muttered as he reached over to Liz and spread the blood on her face- seeing that the hold on her was stronger and she couldn't reach the blood.

Taking a deep breath, I did as Sam suggested and reached for the blood as well, rubbing it on my face so it was covered just like his and Liz's.

Just then, Tracy finished the incantation.

The ground began to shake and crack as thick black smoke emerged for the damaged concrete. It flew into the air and then dived into Don's mouth as if knowing exactly where it belonged.

As Don- who I guess was now Samhain- rose, I noticed that Sam and Liz had closed their eyes as if they were playing dead. Once again, I followed Sam's lead, hoping that this plan of his was actually gone to keep us alive.

There was a moment before Tracy spoke. "My love."

"You've aged." Don's voice had changed slightly, now that Samhain had taken over his body. It was deeper. Darker.

"This face… I can't fool you."

"Your beauty is beyond time." Once again, there was a silence before I heard the indistinctive sound of something snapping and then a body dropping to the floor. In that instant, the hold on me broke. Samhain had just killed Tracy. "Whore."

Listening, I waited into I heard him go up the stairs and close the door behind him before I opened my eyes to check that he really was gone. Once I was sure he was gone, and wouldn't be back, I reached over to check Liz.

"You okay?" I asked her as I helped sit her up.

Groaning, she rubbed at her head which had hit the ground pretty hard. "Fine."

Looking over at Sam as he moved to sit as well, I asked, "What the hell was that?"

"Halloween lore. People used to wear masks to hide from him." He shrugged. "So I gave it a shot."

"You gave it a shot?!"

EPOV

Dean was being his usual over protective self as we walked to Baby. He was right beside me, a gentle hand on my back as if he thought I was going to fall unconscious right then and there. Sure, I'd hit the ground a lot harder than then, and sure Tracy's hold on my had been stronger than her hold on them. But I was fine...

Just in case, I pulled out my pills and took two, hoping they would help.

"Where the hell are we gonna find this mook?" Dean asked Sam as his hand that wasn't pressed to my back used a rug to clean the blood off his face.

Sam had a rag of his own to clean the blood of his face as he responded. "Where would you go to raise other dark forces of the night?"

"The cemetery," Dean answered as we reached the car. He opened the door for me and made sure I was in before he got into his own seat and started the engine, driving down the street as fast as he could while still being safe so he wouldn't hit any trick-or-treaters.

SPOV

"So, this demon's pretty powerful," I noted as Dean continued down the road and towards the cemetery.

He gave a short now. "Yeah."

"Might take more than the usual weapons." I glanced over at him, wondering if he understood what I was hinting at... he did.

"Sam, no, you're not using your psychic whatever. Don't even think about it. Ruby's knife is enough."

"Why?"

"Well because the angels said so for one-"

I cut him off, "I thought you said they were a bunch of fanatics."

"Well they happen to be right about this one," he argued, sounding like a complete hypocrite.

"Dean," Lizzie sighed from the back seat. "Sam may have a point. If things get bad... we might need-"

"No," Dean cut her off sharply as he turned to me. "You said yourself, these powers, it's like playing with fire." Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out the demon knife. "Please."

Without a word, I took the knife, knowing there was no way I could change his mind.

DPOV

We heard the screams and what sounded like a metal door rattling, before we'd even entered the crypt. Rushing down the stairs, we found a bunch of teenaged kids dressed up for Halloween, completely freaked and locked on the other side of some locked metal doors.

As we reached the bottom stair, Sam turned to me. "Help them."

I could see it in his eyes, he was going to go find Samhain. "Dude, you're not going off alone."

But there was nothing I could do to stop him. "Do it!" he yelled before he ran off.

I watched him for a moment until Liz pulled my attention back to the kids as they continued to freak out.

"Dean! Come on!"

Hating the fact that my brother was on his own, dealing with one of the strongest demons we'd ever come across, I took a deep breath and turned my attention to the task at hand knowing it was the right thing to do.

"Stand back!" I warned, pulling out my gun. "Stand back!" The kids did as I said, allowing me to shoot at the locks.

The moment the doors flung open, Liz ushered the kids out, making sure they got to safety as I entered the space they were in, seeing the graves in the walls shake as the fronts of them dropped off, opening them.

Liz rushed back in, only to come to a halt as a zombie crawled out of one of the graves. Suddenly a grave on the other side of the room cracked and crumbled, opening up for another zombie to crawl out.

"Dean..."

Dropping my bag on the ground, I looked over at my shoulder to Liz for the briefest moment. "Back to back."

Nodding, she came over to stand behind me, reaching into my bag to pull out two silver stakes quickly. Once she handed one to me, we both turned to a wall each, getting ready as a few more zombies crawled out.

I tightened my grip on the stake. "Bring it on, stinky."

SPOV

I was deeper in the crypt now, looking for Samhain. I was sure Dean and Lizzie had everything sorted back there. I knew they didn't need me right now, not when there were more pressing things to deal with. Like the demon bring Hell to this town.

Walking down the corridor a little more, I found him tucked away in a room, facing the far wall. I tried sneaking up to him, but he suddenly turned around, lifting his hand to shoot me with the same bright white light Lilith tried on Lizzie and I.

Now in the room, I came to a stop. "Yeah, that demon ray gun stuff? It doesn't work on me."

Pissed, Samhain ran towards me. Before he could do anything, I managed to get the upper hand by making the first move by punching his right in the face. That's all it took before a fight broke out, the two of us throwing hits at each other... until he managed to push me to the wall and wrap his hand around my throat.

EPOV

Dean and I had managed to take down a few zombies now. But right when we thought we could take a breather, a ghost showed up... and boy was she strong. She'd managed to throw both of us across the room before we'd barely had a chance to register her presence. Then, she was gone again.

"Zombie-ghost orgy huh? Well, that's it, I'm torching everybody," Dean muttered as he got to his feet.

But see, the fact ghosts were showing up now told me one thing. Samhain was still alive. That was not good. That meant Sam hadn't dealt with him yet. It wasn't that I didn't have faith in him, but I was beginning to worry.

"You take care of these guys. I'm gonna go help Sam." Without giving Dean the chance to argue or stop me, I rushed out of the room.

SPOV

I'd managed to pull the demon knife out of my jacket. As I went to stab him though, Samhain blocked me with his arm. The blade was pretty close to touching his skin, which then glowed as if sensing the danger.

Snarling, Samhain shoved at my arm roughly, in order to knock the weapon from my grasp. I was now helpless.

There was still some hope, but the chances of me getting out of this on my own, without my powers... with those chances were pretty much non-existent now. I knew Dean and the angels didn't want me to use them, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and seeing as there was no other way for me to get out of this...

"Sam!"

Lizzie caught both Samhain and I off guard as she lifted her hand and tossed him away from me.

I fell back to my feet, taking a deep breath, taking a small moment to recover as Lizzie came to stand beside me. The second I stood straight again and saw Samhain standing in the corner a few feet from us, ready to attack, I knew what I had to do. Not only to save the town, but to save myself and Lizzie.

Lifting my hand, I began to concentrate on him, on pulling the demon out of the body.

He resisted. He struggled and fought, and actually started to slowly and eventually move towards us, still desperately wanting to rip both Lizzie and I apart. Try as I might, I couldn't seem to hold him back and draw him out.

My head began to feel like it was ready to explode. I felt the familiar dripping of blood coming out of my nose as I struggled and fought as best as I could to destroy this demon.

That's when I felt her hand slide into mine.

In that moment, I hadn't had the chance to be surprised or grateful, but for a second I was both, seeing Lizzie raise her own hand as she helped me pull Samhain from Don's body.

It still took a moment, seeing as he was strong and this was the first time she'd done this- that i knew of at least. But sure enough, we managed to pull him out of the vessel, before we finished the job and sent him straight back to hell.

The moment the smoke disappeared into the ground, and we relax, Lizzie goes slack beside me, almost falling to the ground in a pile. I reacted quickly, wrapping an arm around her to make sure she stayed on her feet.

She'd been about to say something when she froze, her eyes on her left, focussing on the entrance to the room... right where Dean stood watching us.

...

After dealing with Samhain last night, none of us had said a single word. None of us even looked at each other. We'd simply come back to the hotel. I guess it had all been too much, because Lizzie had left early this morning. While Dean had been out at a bar or something, and I'd been in the bathroom, she'd packed her things and left... without writing a note this time.

Dean had asked where she was, clearly worried about her even after what he'd watched both her and I do. But I had no answer, and she wasn't responding to any of our calls or messages. I was actually beginning to wonder if she'd come back this time...

Standing by my bed, I packed up my things, ready to get out of here. There was tension between Dean and me, but not enough to change things. The job was done and it was time for us to move on to the next.

"Tomorrow."

I jumped at the sound of a voice. Turning around, I found Uriel sitting on the couch.

"November second, it's an anniversary for you, right?"

"What are you doing here?"

Instead of answering my question, he went on. "It's the day Azazel killed your mother, and twenty-two years later your girlfriend too. It must be difficult to bear, yet you so brazenly use the power he gave you. His profane blood pumping through your veins."

"Excuse me?"

"You were told not to use your abilities."

"And what was I supposed to do? That demon would have killed me, and Lizzie, and my brother and everyone."

"You were told not to."

"If Samhain had gotten loose in this town-"

He cut me off, clearly not caring what I had to say, "You've been warned. Twice now."

"If Lizzie and I-"

"Let me make one thing clear. You were told not to use your powers. Next time we while make you. And that whore you and your brother cart around, she means nothing to us. So, I suggest she stop using her abilities as well. Or you'll both suffer the consequences."

I shook my head at him, wanting nothing more than to hurt him after what he'd just called Lizzie. "You know… my brother was right about you. You are dicks."

Looking to me again, he got up and was suddenly right in front of me. "The only reason you're still alive, Sam Winchester, is because you've been useful. But the moment that ceases to be true, the second you become more trouble than you're worth, one word. One, and I will turn you to dust." Backing off, he went on, "As for your brother, tell him that maybe he should climb off that high horse of his. Ask Dean what he remembers from hell."

Just as quickly as he'd appeared in front of me, he was gone with the sound of heavy wings fluttering behind him. I was left on my own again, left to think about what he'd just told me and what it meant.

DPOV

I sat on a park bench, looking out at some kids and their parents as they played on the swings and ran around. I didn't even have to look over to know Castiel was sitting next to me. I'd heard his wings. I knew he was there.

"Let me guess you're here for the 'I told you so'?" I asked, though had a feeling I knew the answer.

"No."

Or maybe I didn't have the answer. "Well, good, cause I'm really not that interested."

"I am not here to judge you, Dean."

"Then why are you here?"

"Our orders-"

I cut him off, not really in the mood to hear this speech for the millionth time. "Yeah, you know, I've had about enough of these orders of yours-"

It was his turn to cut me off. "Our orders were not to stop the summoning of Samhain, they were to do whatever you told us to do."

I frowned, confused. "Your orders were to follow my orders?"

"It was a test, to see how you would perform under... battlefield conditions, you might say."

"It was a witch, not the Tet Offensive," I noted. "So I, uh, failed your test, huh? I get it. But you know what? If you would have waved that magic time-traveling wand of yours and we had to do it all over again, I'd make the same call. 'Cause see, I don't know what's gonna happen when these seals are broken. Hell, I don't even know what's gonna happen tomorrow. But what I do know is, that this, here?" I gestured around us. "These kids, the swings, the trees, all of it is still here because of Liz, my brother and me."

"You misunderstand me, Dean, I'm not like you think. I was praying that you would choose to save the town."

That was a surprise. "You were?"

"These people," he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "they're all my father's creations. They're works of art, and yet, even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken and we are one step closer to hell on earth, for all creation. Now that's not an expression, Dean, it's literal. You of all people should appreciate what that means."

He was right. I did appreciate what that meant. Which is why I'd wanted to save this people last night. Saving the world was great, sure, but not if the wrong choices had been made along the way. If I listened to the angels last night, then I'd deserve to be sent back to hell.

Speaking up again, Castiel pulled my attention to him. "Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?"

"Okay."

"I'm not a... hammer as you say. I have questions. I... I have doubts." He sighed. "I don't know what is right and what is wrong anymore, whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months you will have more decisions to make. I don't envy the weight that's on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don't."

We shared a look for a moment and I could see he meant it. Turning away, I wondered what that might mean for me. What it might mean for Sam and Liz... for everyone else. But before I could ask, I looked over to see he was gone, and once again, I was alone.

Bamby