#why do we turn away when our brother is bleeding........ why do we build a wall and then call it freedom...

[inamindfarfaraway]

I’ve seen a lot of posts praising the intertwined love stories of Hadestown - their songs, their themes, their acting, their emotional impact - and all of it is absolutely deserved. But can we take a moment to appreciate the weight of "If It's True"?

“If it’s true what they say, what’s the purpose of a man? Just to turn his eyes away?”

“If he turns his back on everyone that he could’ve stood beside?”

“If it’s true what they say, I’ll be on my way.

But who are they to say what the truth is anyway?

‘Cause the ones who tell the lies are the solemnest to swear.

And the ones who load the dice always say the toss is fair.

And the ones who deal the cards are the ones who take the tricks

With their hands over their hearts while we play the game they fix.”

“I believe in us together more than anyone alone.

I believe that with each other, we are stronger than we know.

I believe that we are stronger than they know!

I believe that we are many. I believe that they are few.

And it isn’t for the few to tell the many what is true.”

I was expecting star-crossed lover feelings. I knew there would be an archetypal tragedy that seems both preventable and inevitable. Those elements, I could brace myself for somewhat. But nothing prepared me in the slightest for the CLASS CONFLICT arc, and it gave me chills like Eurydice had in that storm.

[sundreary]

okay this post gave me Thoughts . d-16 as a fucked up version of the myth... the one who looks back .... the reality of how the world is makes him lose sight of what it could be

doomed to repeat the mistakes of the ones who came before ...............

"to the world dream about, and the one we live in now" god if that quote isn't the most orion pax optimus prime coded

[reidrum]

good night moon | s.r

A/N: hi again ! this one is deeply self indulgent i fear but who cares i hope you like it as much as i do <3 ps let me know what kinda fics i should write next !!

cw: spencer reid x bau!reader, cm type violence, reader is afab but this only is referred to when mentioning reader is a daughter, sad thoughts, hurt/comfort, talks about nightmares, spencer just wants to take care you gdm it why won’t you let him

wc: 2.4k

_______________________________________________

trudging up the stairs of the bullpen, you tried your best to use whatever sense you had left to beeline to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. thank god the bau had minimal reflective surfaces because you’re sure you look like the evil old lady from snow white. that was just, your opinion of course. to everyone else you looked fine.

fine was so subjective. what did these fuckers know about being fine? they weren’t the ones on the mission. they don’t know what you saw, how you did nothing, how you couldn’t do anything.

“FBI hands up!” you yell holding your gun and flashlight at the unsub. he’s holding the victim at knifepoint, a twelve year old girl who reminded you too much of yourself.

this unsub’s MO was kidnapping eldest daughters of families that had sons as well, because he believed the son should be the eldest child with the most responsibility and that the daughters were only there to create more babies. the team had deduced that he was the youngest child to an older sister who he felt had too much control over him, combined with his fascination with the perfect nuclear family, it slowly turned him into a sociopathic killer.

“come any closer and i’ll slit her throat!” the unsub bellowed, getting dangerously close to her carotid artery.

“you don’t wanna do that, man,” derek says behind you, “just put the knife down and we can talk.”

“there’s nothing left to talk anymore! i’m already going to prison. there’s no point.”

you called out the unsub’s name, “i know how you’re feeling, i have a younger brother too and he feels the same way you do sometimes. what your sister did to you was not okay, but not all sisters are like that. we just want to care for our family. let them have the chance to be the big sister you wished for.”

the unsub seemed to contemplate your words for a minute, then looks up at you with eyes devoid of any light, “then this one is dedicated to you, agent.” and he drags the knife across her neck leaving waterfalls of blood coming out.

you’re not really sure what happened next. a gun went off, presumably derek’s, to kill the unsub. and then it was you screaming as you rushed to the young girl to try and stop her bleeding, but it was no use. the cut was deep enough to nick that damn carotid and all you could do was hold her in her last moments.

“te- tell my family i love them, and that i’m sorry.” the young girl spurts out so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

“no sweet girl, don’t be sorry,” you say through hiccuped cries, “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”

the last thing you remember was feeling strong hands carrying you out of the building. you couldn’t hear much, the sound of your wails pretty much masked anything in a five mile radius. you could taste the iron lingering in your mouth from biting your lip too hard and desperately collecting the salty tears and sweat trickling down your face. at first you smelled smoke and dust, most likely from being in the cave where the unsub was. but as you were being dragged away from the crime scene you were influxxed with a musky scent, and a hint of vanilla with that fresh laundry smell. spencer. the last thing you see are his worried little brown eyes staring down at you before everything goes dark.

that was monday. it is now thursday. the case had wrapped up, the unsub was dead the families were notified and now you all were in the office doing your paperwork for the case.

and all of you were doing fine, right? everyone else had already coped and processed the case, already stepping back into their normal life routines. but you, you couldn’t have it that easy, but god you wish you did.

since that day, you’d been holing up in your apartment with all the lights turned on. you sat in your living room, eating a bowl of fruit loops and watching bluey, because listen it’s a great show and we should acknowledge it. you cry out loud seeing bluey care for her little sister bingo, and it brings you back to that dusty cave and the bloodied hands.

you could feel sleep creeping up on you, yet you subconsciously found a way to push bedtime by doing menial tasks like cleaning, extra long skincare, watching a movie. when you ran out of things to do, you entered your room and just stared at your bed. how were you supposed to admit to yourself that the horror isn’t in the movie you just watched where the creepy demons kill everyone, but it’s what is waiting for you behind closed eyelids.

so the only logical solution was to just, not sleep. you whipped out every trick in the book to stay awake for as long as you could— energy drinks, coffee, splashing cold water, anything so you wouldn’t have to reface your plagued memories.

spencer observed you from a distance. he watched as you got coffee a whopping three times before 10am, you picking at your skin, not to mention the bags growing under your eyes. it was then he formed a hypothesis, he was a scientist after all. that you simply were not sleeping because of the case. it was much less a hypothesis and more of a fact because he knew exactly what it was upon first sight of you, hell he invented the sleep avoidance look.

and as the inventor it meant he knew the feeling more intimately than he would like to admit. spencer knew what it felt like to be debilitated by the confines of your brain, holding onto shreds of memories you know are not worth remembering but have somehow marked their territory anyway. and everyone coped differently, for spencer he isolated himself for days and then threw himself into work. for you? well, that was the next part of spencer’s experiment.

spencer approaches you in the kitchen as you’re pouring your fourth cup before noon, “hi.”

“hi.”

“how are you? feels like we haven’t talked in a bit.”

“i’m good, sorry i’ve just been. busy.”

spencer frowned internally, he knew you weren’t doing a single thing but working at the office. “are you okay? do you want to talk about last week?”

you cut him off abruptly and start walking out, “i really have to finish these reports spence, talk to you later.”

spencer knew better, he should give you space to cope by yourself. you were an adult, you can take care of yourself. but you shouldn’t have to, he thinks. spencer still tells himself he knows better as he’s waiting on your doorstep that night, about to the rapp the door.

after a minute of no answer he knocks again this time calling your name through the door, “will you let me in please? i want to show you something.”

still nothing. he continues, “i know what you’re feeling, and i want to help, please.”

he almost gives up and turns around when he hears the turn of a lock and slight creek of the door opening to see you in all your beautiful glory.

now you, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes. avengers pj shorts with a baggy uni t shirt, hair flying in any direction, and a look that spencer could only describe as grief. but god if you weren’t the most beautiful human he’d seen in his life, he’d be lying.

you were coming up on day 3? or was it 4? of no sleep. it’s not like you were not sleeping at all you took little 30 minute naps each day, enough to get you some shut eye but not enough to make it your rem stage of sleep.

spencer speaks again, “can i come in?” you nod silently and open the door wider for him to step in. he removes his shoes and it’s then you notice a big ole tote bag he’s lugging to your living room.

“what’s in the bag?”

“ah, come sit. i brought magical things.” he smiles playfully.

you shuffle over to sit a seat’s cushion away from him and watch as he starts pulling item by item from his mary poppins bag.

candles, essential oils, books, but specifically romance novels with the silly cartoon covers that he swears aren’t real books but you argue with him until he concedes, melatonin gummies, pillow sleep spray, and one more item that he’s holding onto for what seems to be dramatic effect. you’re not amused.

“and the piece de resistance,” he presents the last item, and you look confused for a second, until you recognize the item in front of you and immediately start tearing up. in his hands is a grogu weighted stuffed animal that he holds out for you to take. “i know you’re not sleeping. it happened to me when, you know. i figured it would be helpful if you had someone who could empathize how you’re feeling. and because you’re my best friend and i care about you.”

your bottom lip trembles, and you feel the ice block you’ve kept yourself in this past week start to melt uncontrollably. “spence…” you breathe out so quietly. he did all this? for you? doctor spencer reid went out to the store, and bought a grogu stuffed animal for you to cuddle at night to ease your loneliness?

the concept of being taken care of was so foreign to you, as the eldest daughter in your family it was always you taking care of others and making sure everyone was okay. but rarely did anyone check on you, how you were holding up. and you had learned to cope by yourself, to handle the big emotions by yourself, but for once, someone was willing to take all that weight off your shoulders and let you breathe. and god, did it feel so cathartic you could burst out in sobs.

so you did.

“hey,” he says scooting closer to you so he can scoop you into his chest, “was that a lot? penelope said i’d probably overwhelm you but all of the things i brought are scientifically proven sleep additives-“

“no i just, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” you whimper.

spencer’s eyes soften, “you deserve it. what happened last week… was hard. i just wanted to help.”

“thank you,” he hears a muffled response and rubs his hands affectionately down your back, “damn, all this crying is making me so tired.”

“see! the magic of the poppins bag.” he chuckles. you laugh too. spencer thinks all the flowers in a mile radius just bloomed.

“it’s just,” you start out, nuzzling into his chest deeper, “the second i close my eyes and dream, i see her. and how i couldn’t save her. and how the others i couldn’t save either.” you feel your chest seizing up again.

“okay well hey, hey. you did what you were trained to do. any other agent in your position would’ve tried talking him down the way you did. and your personal story gave you an advantage that no one else would’ve had. statistically speaking, you were the best chance at getting through to him. yeah it didn’t work, but it wouldn’t be probability if it always worked,” he cradles your face in his big hands, “we’re all so proud of you, you know. rossi’s waiting for you to be back on your feet so he can host pasta night at his hou- sorry his mansion again.”

spencer looks down at you properly to your tear stained cheeks and brushes your hair back. he sees the pain and tiredness fighting behind your eyes and asks softly, “what do you need right now?”

“i’m tired.” you lament.

“then lets go sleep.”

“i can’t.”

“why not?”

“im scared.”

“well that’s why i brought the stuff silly goose,” he taps your nose, “come on, let’s go set it up.”

spencer brings all the sleep aids to your room and sets them up appropriately, even plugging in your sunrise lamp to help with the ambient lighting. the only thing left to do is for you to get into your bed.

you both stand on opposite sides of your bed, and he’s waiting for you to get in so can tuck you in. you hesitate and look up at him with the same worried eyes he saw all those days ago.

“could you stay for bit?”

“i can stay for some time if you want” you both speak at the same time. you giggle again, spencer thinks an angel got its wings.

thank god he wore sweats and a comfy t shirt he thinks. he slid in under the blanket and holds it open for you to come in, “come on, you’re missing the cuddle party with grogu and i!” you beam widely and finally sink into your bed.

spencer pulls you into his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder blade, and the other taking a spot on your hip rubbing soft circles. you lay your head to rest on his chest, right above his beating heart. you try to let the metronomic thumps lull you to sleep, but spencer can still feel your eyelashes fluttering about on his chest. he knows what you’re thinking, because of course he does.

“look at me,” he nudges you, you look up at his eyes again and see nothing but pure love and reassurance as he continues, “you are safe. nothing can hurt you. i promise.”

“are you sure?” you let out meekly,

“i’m sure. it’s okay, go to sleep,” he presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your forehead. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you shakily take a deep breath, and close your eyes.

after five minutes of spencer rubbing shapes into your back, he can finally hear the soft snores coming from below. he places another kiss on your head, whispers, “good night angel girl,” and doses off.

you wake up the next morning feeling so rested and relieved you can’t help but give spencer a big hug that wakes him up. spencer thinks he’d be the luckiest man in the universe if he could wake up like this everyday.

[jarondont]

[HERMES, spoken]

Now everybody knows that walls have ears

[TELEMACHUS]

Is it true?

[SOULS]

Is it true?

[HADES, spoken]

What's that noise?

[HERMES, spoken]

And the walls had heard what the boy was saying

[TELEMACHUS]

Is it true?

[SOULS]

Is it true?

[HADES, spoken]

It's the boy!

[HERMES, sang]

A million tons of stone and steel...

[TELEMACHUS]

Is it true?

[SOULS]

Is it true?

[HERMES]

Echoed his refrain

[SOULS]

Low, keep your head, keep your head low

Oh, you gotta keep your head low

If you wanna keep your head

Oh, you gotta keep your head low

Keep your head, keep your head low

Oh, you gotta keep your head low

If you wanna keep your head

Oh, you gotta-

[ANDROMACHE & HELENUS]

Why do we turn away when our brother is bleeding?

[SOULS]

Oh, keep your head-

[POLITES & EURYLOCHUS]

Why do we build the wall and then call it freedom?

[SOULS]

Oh, keep your head-

[ACHILLES + PERIMEDES]

If we're free!

[PATROCLUS + ELPENOR]

Tell me why!

[HECTOR & CASSANDRA & PARIS]

I can't look in my brother's eye?

[SOULS]

Keep your head-

[HADES]

Young man

Got to hand it to you

Guess you don't scare easy, do ya?

Are you brave or stupid, son?

Doesn't matter which one

'Cause it seems your song made quite a strong impression on my wife

But it takes more than singin' songs to keep a woman in your arms

Take it from a man no longer young

If you want to hold a woman, son

Hang a chain around her throat

Made of many carat gold

Shackle her from wrist to wrist

With sterling silver bracelets

Fill her pockets full of stones

Precious ones, diamonds

Bind her with a golden band

Take it from an old man

[SOULS]

Ooohhh

[TELEMACHUS]

If I raise my voice-

[WORKERS, one-by-one]

If I raise my voice

If I raise my voice

If I raise my-

[THE FATES and COMPANY]

Keep your head low

[NAUSICAA]

If I raise my head-

[WORKERS]

If I raise my head

If I raise my head

If I raise my-

[THE FATES and SOULS]

Keep your head low

[NAUSICAA]

Could I change my fate?

[THE FATES and COMPANY]

Could I change-

Could I change-

Could I change my fate? Oh, you gotta keep your head low

[TELEMACHUS]

If I raise my voice could I-

[SOULS]

Keep your head low!

[TELEMACHUS and NAUSICAA]

Could I change the way it is?

[SOULS]

Why do we turn away instead of standing with him?

Oh, keep your head-

Why are we digging our own graves for a living?

Oh, keep your head-

If we're free

Tell me why

We can't even stand upright?

If we're free

Tell me when

We can stand with our fellow man

Keep your head-

[HADES]

Young man, I was young once too

Sang a song of love like you

Son, I too, was left behind

Turned on one too many times

Now I sing a different song

One I can depend upon

A simple tune, a steady beat

The music of machinery

You hear that heavy metal sound?

The symphony of Hadestown

And in this symphony of mine

Of power cords and power lines

Young man, you can strum your lyre

I have strung the world in wire

Young man, you can sing your ditty

I CONDUCT THE ELECTRIC CITY!

I'll tell you what, young man

Since my wife is such a fan

And since I'm going to count to three

And put you out of your misery

One!-- give me one more song

One more song before I send you

Two!-- to the great beyond

Where nobody can hear you singing

Three!--sing a song for me

Make me laugh, make me weep

Make the king feel young again

Sing for an old man!

OHHH THIS IS SO GOOD! THE OTHER CHARACTERS COMING IN YESSSS

[secretlyafiveheadeddragon]

“Why do we turn away when our brother is bleeding?/ Why do we build a wall and then call it freedom?”

— Hadestown, Anaïs Mitchell

[tea-stained]

"Why do we turn away when our brother is bleeding?

Why do we build a wall and then call it freedom?

Why do we turn away instead of standing with him?

Why are we digging our own graves for a living?

If we're free/Tell me why/We can't even stand upright?"

All of those lines, separated from one another in Chant II by "You gotta keep your head low", each time resounding more and more as a threat, a chant, to do anything but question the status quo under the gathering storm, rumbling threateningly, should one dare to try and take a look around.

The way /work/, /fear tactic/ themes in Hadestown are executed is masterful, painting such vivid pictures with such few words; "With a million hands that are not his own/With a million hands, he builds a wall" presents an almost complete image of a filthy rich leader. The only thing missing are the implications of "wall" in a contextual sense - though, I believe it is perfectly comprehensible, as, cough cough, we all know a thing or two about men in power desiring to build walls.

How I adore this fruit of long lasting passion and love that took thirteen years to finalise! There will never be another Hadestown; a love letter, perfectly self-contained, giving even a meta-contextual reason as to why it keeps getting played; the actors play actors who re-enact the same story over and over again - "'Cause here’s the thing/To know how it ends/And still begin to sing it again/As if it might turn out this time". But it's a sad song. It's a sad tale. It's a tragedy.

Such madness, all in the name of hope.

[song-of-past-romance]

Hadestown X The Odyssey (has some EPIC in it, but mainly the Odyssey)

Chant (Reprise) isn’t my favorite Hadestown song of all time, but I thought it’d be fun!

…

Hermes smirked, as he watched the underworld from above. Taking the souls down. “Now everybody knows that walls have ears..”

Telemachus took a deep breath. Before strumming his guitar and singing. “Is it true?”

You can hear voices wailing back. “Is it true?” From their agony down below.

The god of dead frowned, sitting up from his throne. “What's that noise?” His eyebrow furrowed.

Hermes, after he led the souls down. Looked at Telemachus. The grin still plastered on his face. “And the walls had heard what the boy was saying.”

Telemachus repeated again. “Is it true?” He seemed focused.

“Is it true?”

Hades then stood up from his throne, an.. not so pleasant expression on his face. “It's the boy!” He exclaimed.

“A million tons of stone and steel...” Hermes whistled.

Telemachus then sung one last time. “Is it true?!”

“Is it true!?”

Hermes’ smile then faded, he knew how it went. He knew how this would end. But he felt hope for the boy.. maybe this time he wouldn’t be like Orpheus… “Echoed his refrain.”

The souls.. workers from below chanted. “Low, keep your head, keep your head low. Oh, you gotta keep your head low.. If you wanna keep your head-”

“Oh, you gotta keep your head low. Keep your head, keep your head low. Oh, you gotta keep your head low..If you wanna keep your head. Oh, you gotta-” They kept chanting as Telemachus hid and ran. He only had one chance.

“Why do we turn away when our brother is bleeding?” He heard two souls say, and proceeded to bump into them. Helenus and Andromache, the woman was holding a baby.

“Oh, keep your head-”

Telemachus felt a pang in his heart, as he looked tot he left. He saw two others, one with a bandana and one with a… weirdly large sword speak.

“Why do we build the wall and then call it freedom?” The one with the large sword put a hand on the one with the bandana’s shoulder.

“Oh, keep your head-”

“If we're free..” a blonde haired with a arrow in his heel and a man with a bruise on his neck say.

“Tell me why!?” a darker haired man with a spear in his chest and a man with a lightning scar on him would speak.

One with a spear in his neck, one with a golden apple in his hand looking solemn, and one women who was covering her mouth, “I can't look in my brother's eye?”

Telemachus kept running, he felt creeped out.

“Keep your head-“

Hades exclaimed, “Young man. Got to hand it to you.. Guess you don't scare easy, do ya?” the god glared. “Are you brave or stupid, son Doesn't matter which one.. 'Cause it seems your song made quite a strong impression on my wife. But it takes more than singin' songs to keep a woman in your arms!”

Telemachus tried escaping, but Hades had always stayed in front of him, as if following and watching his every move, like he was ready to make the fates strike the thread any minute.

“Take it from a man no longer young. If you want to hold a woman, son—Hang a chain around her throat.” He summoned a golden chain and put it around the princes neck.

“Made of many carat gold! Shackle her from wrist to wrist—With sterling silver bracelets.. Fill her pockets full of stones. Precious ones, diamonds. Bind her with a golden band. Take it from an old man.”

Telemachus then narrowed his eyes, grabbing the chain. And shook his head.

“Ooohhh..”

The son of Odysseus, the son of Penelope, then exclaimed. “If I raise my voice!”

“If I raise my voice..” one female worker said.

Andromache stood, “If I raise my voice.” The man next to her, possibly Hector.. looked at her in shock.

“If I raise my-” Cassandra tried to speak.

The fates and souls cut her off, as Cassandra shakily took back her hammer. “Keep your head low.”

Nausicaä then spoke out as well. “If I raise my head!”

Clytemnestra then repeated. “If I raise my head-”

Andromache kept working, and also responded.“If I raise my head..”

Cassandra tried again. “If I raise my-”

“Keep your head low!”

Nausicaä nodded. “Could I change my fate?”

“Could I change-”

“Could I change-”

“Could I change my fate?” Cassandra yelped out.

The souls suddenly looked hesitant, some stared at their hammers, like they were just gonna drop it. “Oh, you gotta keep your head low..”

Telemachus kept strumming his guitar, walking, feeling the pain. “If I raise my voice could I-”

“Keep your head low!”

Nausicaä and Telemachus looked at eachother nervously, and Hermes watched from the shadows, with a solemn look on his face.

“Could I change the way it is?” They both asked.

The ones with the big sword and the bandana stared at eachother. “Why do we turn away instead of standing with him?”

“Oh, keep your head-”

The one with the golden apple and the spear looked hesitantly at eachother, like they weren’t so.. close. “Why are we digging our own graves for a living?”

“Oh, keep your head-”

More chanted, some seemed frustrated and confused now, “If we're free! Tell me why-”

“We can't even stand upright?” The blonde and the dark haired looked very unhappy.

Helenus and Andromache shook their heads. “If we're free. Tell me when.. We can stand with our fellow man?”

“Keep your head-”

Hades then grabbed onto Telemachus, almost choking him. “Young man, I was young once too. Sang a song of love like you! Son, I too, was left behind.. Turned on one too many times- Now I sing a different song! One I can depend upon. A simple tune, a steady beat.. The music of machinery. You hear that heavy metal sound?. The symphony of Hadestown.”

“And in this symphony of mine! Of power cords and power lines. Young man, you can strum your lyre.. I have strung the world in wire. Young man, you can sing your ditty.” He threw the coughing Telemachus onto the ground. The prince gripped onto his guitar.

“I CONDUCT THE ELECTRIC CITY!”

Telemachus and some souls screamed when everything started to glow bright. The prince of Ithaca had to close his eyes.

“I'll tell you what, young man.. Since my wife is such a fan.” He scowled.

“And since I'm going to count to three.. And put you out of your misery. One!-- give me one more song—One more song before I send you. Two!-- to the great beyond. Where nobody can hear you singing. Three!-- sing a song for me. Make me laugh, make me weep— Make the king feel young again! Sing for an old man!”

Telemachus looked at Hades in shock, he then stared at the almost destroyed flower in his hands. But.. he knew the melody. He knew the song. The gods, they’ve forgotten the song of their love. But he wanted to make sure no one forgot his.

[tieflingkisser]

Inside the Nuseirat Massacre: This Is the Carnage I Saw During Israel’s Hostage Rescue

I was on the road to the camp when Israel launched its raid — and saw the aftermath in a nearby hospital.

DEIR Al-BALAH, GAZA ­— Suhail Mutlaq Abu Nasser didn’t originally come from the Nuseirat refugee camp in the central Gaza Strip. But, by the time the Israeli military attacked the area on Saturday — part of a large-scale operation to rescue four Israeli hostages seized from a rave on October 7 — the camp was the closest thing Abu Nasser had to a home. After initially settling in the area in November, Abu Nasser, 60, faced more displacements, but the tortuous journey brought him back to Nuseirat this spring. The house in Nuseirat he’d taken up had been bombed and was partially destroyed, but he reasoned it was better than the nylon tent he had stayed in down south in Rafah. On Saturday, at around 11 a.m., Abu Nasser was standing by a window in the home when missiles began to rain down on the area. One struck just 20 meters away. “The area turned to ashes,” Abu Nasser told me in a Sunday interview. “I couldn’t find my wife and started calling out to those around me to ensure they were still alive.” Driven outside by fear of his building being bombed, Abu Nasser was confronted by a massive Israeli attack unfolding around him. The streets were filled by a swarm of quadcopter drones equipped with small arms. Tank tracks could be heard nearby. U.S.-made Apache attack helicopters hovered. Nearby homes were hit with missiles. “We heard people crying for help in the bombed houses,” Abu Nasser said. “They had martyrs and injuries, but we couldn’t help them.” The scene was gruesome. “The street was filled with civilian body parts,” he said, “and many injuries bleeding out without ambulances being able to reach them.” The sustained attack on Nuseirat lasted about 75 minutes. “The operation ended, but we stayed in our places, afraid to move for a long time,” Abu Nasser recalled. “It was a horrific scene and a difficult time that I had never experienced in my life.”

[...]

The Washington Post verified two videos of a truck bearing the logo of a dishwashing soap being escorted out of Nuseirat by Israeli tanks — though whether the scene was before or after the attack was unclear. Another video posted online showed a Mercedes-Benz van with living items strapped to it — a “Grapes of Wrath”-like scene common in Gaza. An eyewitness told the Post that about 10 Israeli soldiers leapt out of the van, shooting the eyewitness’s brother. (A representative for Israel Defense Forces spokesperson Rear Adm. Daniel Hagari told The Intercept no civilian vehicles were used in the attack.) Al-Aqsa Martyrs Hospital in Deir al-Balah, which I visited on Saturday, was overflowing with casualties from Nuseirat. Ambulances continually arrived, and screams filled the air. Chaos reigned in the emergency room throughout the afternoon, said Karin Huster, a policy organizer and supervisor working at Al-Aqsa with Doctors Without Borders, according to a recording she sent from Gaza that was released by the medical aid group, known by its French initials MSF. “There is nothing, nothing at all that justifies what I saw today,” Huster said. “Nothing.” “These children — the 3-month-old, the 7-year-old, the 12-year-old who died — the 25-year-old man, the 78-year-old woman, who all have horrendous injuries,” she continued. “Why did they deserve this? And why is the world looking on in silence? To what level of horror do we need to go before we finally do something, before we finally tell Israel that this is not acceptable?”

[imdrunkisuppose]

"america ain't that bad" we're literally living out chant and chant reprise. when persephone said "hadestown: hell on earth" she was talking about america.

"viktor what the hell are you on" ok just listen to me for a second

"gotta keep your head low / if you wanna keep your head"

"tryin to trust that the song he's workin on / is gonna shelter us / from the wind, the wind, the wind"

"king hades is deafened by a river of stone / and lady persephone's blinded by a river of wine / livin in an oblivion"

"thats why times are so hard / its because of the gods / the gods have forgotten the song of their love"

"its hard enough to feed yourself / let alone somebody else"

"she was no stranger to the wind / but she had not seen nothin / like the mighty storm she got caught up in"

"every year its getting worse / hadestown, hell on earth"

"the harvest dies and people starve / oceans rise and overflow / it ain't right / and it ain't natural"

"if you don't even want my love / i'll give it to someone who does / someone grateful for her fate / someone who appreciates / the comforts of a gilded cage / and doesn't try to fly away / the moment mother nature calls / someone who could love these walls / that hold her close and keep her safe / and think of them as my embrace"

"why do we turn away when our brother is bleeding? / why do we build a wall and then call it freedom? / if we're free, tell me why / i can't look in my brothers eye?"

"if i raise my voice / if i raise my head / could i change my fate / if i raise my voice could i / could I change the way it is?"

"why do we turn away instead of standing with him? / why are we diggin our own graves for a livin? / if we're free, tell me why / we can't even stand upright? / if we're free, tell me when / we can stand with our fellow men?"

"young man, you can strum your lyre / i have strung the world in wire / young man, you can sing your ditty / i conduct the electric city"

[countthereds]

if my brother uses the extended family group chat to air out all his stupid greiviances against the fact that he has a sore throat but is acting like it's the end of the world and that he is dying and we are treating it like a sore fucking throat i will fucking end him myself and spare myself the bother of having to humor him.

A doctor saw him, said it's just a sore throat, if things don't get better in a few days might have turned into a bacterial infection. He should stop picking his nose with his nails and coughing and blowing his nose extre hard because that gave him a v mild nose bleed that he only noticed bc a small brown clump showed up when he blew his like ya allah how are you this ridiculously melodramatic over a fucking sore throat

and it's not like we didn't take care of him, he just wants someone to fuckin, tuck him in bed and give him forehead kisses and go Awww u have a boo boo TO A FUCKING 16 YEAR OLD like Bitch????

and he Always wants someone to do sth for him Always, if he so much as sees me in the kitchen he suddenly wants food, tea, and a bajillion other things. If he's studying he suddenly has a collection of very stupid questions to ask even when HE ALREADY KNOWS THE ANSWERS TO HIS OWN QUESTIONS.

MY GOD but he annoying, and he pings me! pings me on the extended family group with posts where he calls our parents awful shit like ffs I Know mum and dad are not the best but why are you AIRING THAT OUT TO A FUCKING CHAT GROUP THAT DOESN'T TALK ABT THAT SHIT?? and even then, he's talking about ridiculous slights! Enno 5alas 5alas ya rabbi shut up you self centred spoilt idiot. wakes up with a fever and feeling v cold, decides to freeze in bed and send me 10739363 messages at 2 A FUCKING M on q workday like i'm supposed to be awake and nursing him. I happened to be awake and i told him to take panadol and some anti-emetic bc his stomach was unsettled and he KEPT YELLING WITH A SORE FUCKING THROAT about how i "should open whatsapp/discord" like I was having a resonable time away from my phone you fucking bastard cunt, why do i have to give you all my attention all the time.

he makes insane claims and jumps to all the wrong conclusions and builds himself up to be a fucking victim over the simplest shit and when joked with immediately tells people to kill themselve 5alas 5alaaaas I hate him the only thing ello.masbberni 3aleeh is filial peity, because otherwise i would leave him to starve because apparently he refuses to eat when HE has to make the food

[priceofwar]

//this is literally just long feng to jet, remind me to make a verse of a like a laogai rebellion 

[caitimetravels]

she's insignificant

chapter 4: run girl run

the umbrella academy x reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: mentions of blood

masterlist

"you will be working on locating number five instead" reginald instructed the young girl. she raised her head in shock.

"what?" 

"come, we must work in solitude" he ignored her confusion, uncaring for her feelings as usual. he lead her down the stairs. she only remembered coming down here once as a child, it was when vanya was sick. reginald showed her to a vault like room. she stared at it, unsure.

"you will be training down here from now on, your siblings will not disrupt you down here" 

the h/c haired girl stared at the room with wide eyes. her siblings wouldn't disrupt her or she wouldn't disrupt them..?

————————————————–

"like i said to your son earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. without the client's consent i simply can't help" lance biggs sat in his office chair, staring at klaus as he talked. five stood beside the chair y/n sat in, hands in pockets and annoyed.

"well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name" five leaned in, gritting his teeth.

"well, that's not my problem" lance shrugged, "sorry, now there's really nothing i can do so.." 

"oh, what about my consent?" klaus looked up now, gaining five and y/n's attention. what was he doing? "who gave you permission to lay your hands on my son?"

"what?" the other three people in the room all spoke in unison. 

"you heard me" 

"i didn't touch your son" lance argued, glancing at five.

"oh, really?" klaus begun to lean forwards, moving to stand up. "well then how did he that swollen lip then?" 

"he doesn't have a swollen lip-" lance was cut off as klaus struck five across the face. five touched a hand to his now bleeding lip, glaring at klaus in confusion. 

"and, what about my daughter? how dare you lay a hand on her. she's so sweet and innocent" klaus turned to y/n now, gesturing to her. she awaited a hit now, sure he was going to punch her. "how could you assault her like that?" and just as she thought he slapped a hand across her face, leaving a bright red hand print.

"i want it. name please, now" klaus turned back to lance, leaning on his desk. the doctor raised a shaky finger at him.

"you're crazy" 

"you got no idea" klaus laughed breathlessly before taking notice of the snow globe resting on the desk. he picked it up smiling as he read it. "'peace on earth' that's so sweet" y/n jumped in surprise as he smashed it over his head, groaning in pain. he held his hands to his face for a moment before looking back up, hair dripping with water and glitter. blood dripped down the side of his head.

lance quickly dialled a number into the phone, lifting it to his ear. he was still in shock, "i'm calling security- what are you doing?!"

y/n stood and gently gripped five's blazer sleeve, pulling him back as klaus ripped the phone from lance's grip. five glanced at her in confusion but then realised what was happening as he barely missed an elbow to the face as klaus dramatically cried into the phone.

"there's been an assault in mr biggs office and we need security now, schnow!" klaus slammed the phone back onto the table before leaning close to lance. "here's what's gonna happen grant"

"it's lance-"

"in about 60 seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood and they're gonna wonder what the hell happened and we're gonna tell them that you, beat the shit out of us" klaus breathed for a moment standing up straight now, staring the doctor down. "you're gonna do great in prison grant, trust me, i've been there. little piece of chicken like you, oh my god you're gonna get passed around like a.. you're gonna do great, that's all i'm saying" klaus waved his hand, smiling.

five smirked now, proudly standing beside klaus. y/n nervously stood behind five, watching over his shoulder.

"jesus, you're a real sick bastard" lance stared up at him, stunned. 

"thank you" klaus spat out a piece of glass.

————————————————–

"focus, number eight!" reginald shouted once again, frustrated as she failed once again to find her missing brother. she squeezed her eyes closed tighter, trying to ignore his insults. 

it had been almost 6 years since five had disappeared and around 1 since ben died. she had spent that year working on finding her brother only to be unsuccessful. it was like he had dropped off the face of the earth, she didn't know how her father expected her to find him.

she needed to focus. her eyes glazed over again as she opened them, turning black for the sixth time that hour. her hands glowed a soft white colour in her lap as her powers worked. she couldn't hear her father anymore. 

she opened her eyes slowly to see destruction. where was she? she notices a store behind her, flames still burning endlessly upon rubble. carefully she walked into what was left of the department store. there sat a mannequin in a white top with black dots, only the top half of the mannequin was still undamaged, she had a single arm and no hair but what was left of her body was fine. suddenly someone walked through y/n. she stared at the boy for a moment, recognising him as her missing brother. 

"five..?" 

————————————————–

klaus sat atop the bench while five sat across from lance who searched through the files. y/n stood in between the two, arms crossed and guarded as she watched everything over klaus' shoulder. her face still slightly hurt, hand print clearly visible. 

lance nervously flicked through the file five was looking for before pausing as he read it.

"huh.. that's strange" 

"what?" five snapped impatiently,

"uh the eye, it hasn't been purchased by a client yet" lance looked up at him now, 

klaus jumped off the bench, stepping behind lance. "what? what do you mean?" 

"well, our logs say that the eye with that serial number.." klaus stepped over to his other side and leaned over his left shoulder. "this can't be right, it hasn't even been manufactured yet. where did you get that eye?"

lance, klaus and y/n all looked to five. where did he get that eye?

————————————————–

he was a little older than she remembered but he was definitely the same boy that ran away all those years ago. he didn't answer her voice, not hearing her at all. she frowned, watching as he dug through what was left of the store. he was searching for something useful. 

while he dug through scraps she went back to the beautiful mannequin. she was surprised at how it had managed to stay okay through all of this destruction around them. she reached a hand out to touch her before she heard five's voice. had he seen her?

"five" she smiled, turning to him only for him to walk right through her again. she frowned, why couldn't he see her? she tried to grab his arm but her hand only phased through. she was like a ghost.. where was she? where was five? "five, can you hear me?" she stood in front of him, trying everything to get his attention. 

"five? five!" why couldn't she help him? she just wanted to help. she felt so useless, watching him walk around and gather materials. she couldn't speak to him, he couldn't hear her..

————————————————–

"well, this is not good" five breathed out in annoyance as they exited the building. 

"i was pretty good though right? 'yeah, what about my consent, bitch?'" klaus grinned, giddy as they stepped out. y/n sighed at her brother, trailing behind.

"klaus, it doesn't matter" five snapped, stopping on the last step to glare at him. klaus stopped just after, turning to face him.

"what? what? what? what's the big deal with this eye anyway?" klaus carelessly threw his hand in the air, not at all bothered.

"there's someone out there who's going to lose an eye in the next seven days. they're going to bring about the end of life on this earth as we know it" five spoke seriously, stressed.

y/n's eyes narrowed. that's where he had been..

————————————————–

she felt herself being pulled away, like someone was tugging her. she fought, wanting to stay, she needed to help him. she needed to tell five he could get back, she could help him, she would.

she continued to call for him even though she knew it was useless. she wasn't able to help him no matter how hard she tried. she was like a ghost. five finally stopped rummaging, now noticing the mannequin behind her. 

"how did you.." he spoke softly, he even sounded the same. god, she missed him. she almost broke down again as he walked through her, picking up the mannequin softly. just as y/n faded she reached her hand out, trying to touch him. her hand instead gripped the mannequin. she shouted in pain as she felt like she was being torn apart. she squeezed her eyes shut hoping the pain would stop.

when her eyes opened again she found herself in that same room with her father scowling down at her. he watched her for a moment, for once allowing her to calm down. she slowed her breathing, wiping away the tears on her cheeks, bitterly.

"report, number eight?" reginald asked, impatiently glaring. 

"i.." she paused, she couldn't tell him. she would find five on her own if she had to but she couldn't tell him, she wouldn't. she was a failure. she couldn't tell him she couldn't do it, the punishment would be too great. "i didn't find him.." 

reginald clicked his tongue in disappointment. "you are dismissed until further notice. training will not resume"

"what? but what about five-" 

"number five is gone and you can do nothing to help him if you keep failing, number eight. you are too weak. you are dismissed" he snapped, narrowing his eyes, daring her to talk back again. 

she stayed silent.

————————————————–

klaus paused before ignoring five's ominous tone, "yeah, can i get that twenty bucks like now or what?"

"your twenty bucks?" five stared at him in disbelief.

"yeah, my twenty bucks" 

"the apocalypse is coming and all you can think about it getting high?" five got up in klaus' face, annoyed. how could he not care that the world was ending?

"hey, um.. five?" y/n tried to diffuse the situation before anything could happen. she didn't need another family fight.

"well, i'm also quite hungry" "tummys-a-rumbling, grr" klaus grinned, patting his stomach and imitating gurgling sounds.

"you're useless.." the boy clad in uniform mumbled, incredulous. "you're all useless!" he begun to walk away to the stairs of the building.

"five? hey, come on. i'm sure we can do something else to stop the-" y/n smiled softly, walking behind him, holding his blazer sleeve. klaus interrupted her.

"oh, come on, you need to lighten up, old man" he stayed where he was, exasperated. "klaus!" y/n scolded, sitting beside five only to be ignored. "hey, you know i've just now realised why you're so uptight! you must be horny as hell. all those years by yourself, that's gotta screw with your head, being alone" he acted sympathetic as he sat on five's other side. y/n rolled her eyes, he was definitely just doing this for his money.

"well, i wasn't alone" five stared off while he fiddled with his fingers.

"oh? pray tell" klaus turned, interested.

five looked up now, reminiscent. "her name was dolores, we together for over 30 years" 

"30 years? oh wow, god, the longest i've been with someone was.. i don't know.. three weeks?" five's eyebrows furrowed, bored. he looked around for an escape. "and that's only because i was so tired of looking for a place to sleep-" he noticed a cab driving by and took y/n's hand before blinking into the cab. "he did make the most fantastic ossobuco though, it was.. five? y/n?"  

the pair appeared the back of the cab, scaring the driver. "don't stop. just keep going" five instructed before leaning out the window and saluting condescendingly at klaus.

"hey, hey, hey, hey! what about my money?!" he shook his hand, angrily yelling at them.

————————————————–

"y/n, dear" grace smiled at her, standing in the doorway to the library. her siblings stood around their mother, all ready for bed. she was going to tuck them in. "it's bed time, come now, let's get you ready"

y/n stared at her books for a moment before ultimately sighing and following along. she brought two with her though. diego walked beside her, as grumpy as usual and only there because he was a mommy's boy. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion however at the books in her hands.

"why do you need books on physics and probability?" y/n looked up at him, surprised he was talking to her. usually her siblings ignored her now that she wasn't part of their missions. she stared at him for a moment, deciding whether to tell him or not. with a glance at the cameras in the room she decided against it.

"none of your business" she muttered quietly, curling her arms around the books, holding them to her chest. it gave diego a look at the equations written on her arm though. what was she up to?

he dropped it nonetheless. he didn't care too much if he was being honest, what she did was her business.. for now.

she was going to find him. she had to. with her books splayed out around her she made sure to stay to the quiet corner of the library, the one no camera in this house reached. loose sheets and notebooks filled with equations sat messily in front of her, decorating her wide array of books. if she could only tell five she could help him. he was surely smart enough to figure this out on his own but how long would it take him? she wanted him to come back sooner not later.

"come on, you can do this" she clenched her hands into fists, glowing white as she focused. her eyes turned black and she looked around. she couldn't move, she was stuck. she noticed five walking around but her body wouldn't do what she wanted it to. he walked over now however, did he finally see her? he smiled, taking a seat beside her. she noticed a book in his hand but she couldn't read what it was. he scribbled in it, focused. the only she noticed was that she was sat in red wagon, unmoving and unblinking. what was wrong with her?

five wrote down a few more numbers, showing her what he had written so far. it was similar to what sat beside her earlier. "i've almost got the equations dolores"

what..? her name wasn't dolores? 

she gasped as she was shaken back to reality. looking up she found a concerned looking klaus with diego a few feet behind him.

"oh god" klaus sighed in relief as her eyes turned back to normal. "i thought you died or something"

"idiot, if she was dead her powers wouldn't have been working" diego scoffed although he too looked quite relieved she was okay. 

"what were you doing?" klaus sat beside her now, staring at the numerous equations in front of him.

"what are you doing? shouldn't you be training or something?" she frowned, annoyed at having been caught and interrupted. 

"we asked you first" diego countered, crossing his arms. 

"i was practicing, nothing you should be concerned about" she waved it off, packing up her books and notes.

"it looks like a lot more than practicing, eight" he moved closer, stepping on the sheet she was about to pick up. he leaned over her, watching her carefully. she eyed him back, just as daring.

"you don't know what it looks like, two" she stated calmly, still holding the sheet. 

"c'mon, y/n, just tell us what you're doing" klaus whined, "what are we gonna do? tell dad? we're not luther" 

y/n snorted, remembering the jokes they used to make about luther sniffing dad's underwear. "fine, i was looking for five, dad stopped my training" diego stepped back now, confused.

"why would he stop your training?" 

y/n paused, looking guilty. she glanced nervously between the two of them before waving them down towards her, whispering. "you can't tell anyone.. i lied to dad, i did find five"

"you're kidding" both boys stared at her in disbelief.

"why would you l-lie? w-w-w-what are you going to do if h-h-he finds o-out?!" diego freaked out now, his stutter coming out in his nervousness.

"he's not going to find out. he doesn't care about me now, i'm practically useless to him now" she shrugged,  continuing to stack her papers again. "besides i can't move or talk to five whenever i find him, i just.. exist. i'm like a ghost or something. i still need to figure out how to communicate with him" she sighed heavily. first, she wanted to figure out what book he was reading. she had never seen it before.

————————————————–

"what are we doing?" y/n and five stood outside the department store. 

"i thought i said no questions until later" he raised an eyebrow at her. "we're just here to get something" she shrugged and he held her arm before blinking them inside. they walked around for a moment, using five's flashlight.

"oh my god! five look!" y/n gushed, noticing postcards on a stand. "they have so many cities!" he stared at her for a second, confused by her fascination before remembering she had never really left the house. she gasped suddenly, turning around and holding up a fluffy bunny keychain. "it's so cute!" 

a small fond smile grew on five's face as she took interest in the small, almost useless items that the store had to offer. with a sad look she turned to him, still holding the white bunny keychain. "five.. can i keep it?"

he paused, he was about to take dolores so he didn't see why not. if he said no he would be hypocritical.

"fine. but don't touch anything else, okay? we can't risk getting caught" he nodded before walking away. y/n grinned, hooking the keychain into her belt loop before looking around. 

five finally found dolores, looking up at her. "dolores.. it's good to see you" 

"i've missed you, obviously.. well, it's been a rough couple of days" y/n couldn't see who he was talking to but heard his voice. she frowned, he had gone through a lot. 

suddenly five yelled, "no!" and then there were gunshots. y/n dropped to the floor, praying five was alright. she ducked behind a gardening stand. five appeared beside her and she almost screamed. he held a finger to his lips, shushing her. she nodded, watching as he grabbed a spade, testing it's swing before disappearing again.

she watched as he fought one of the two shooters, slicing their arm before running again. she couldn't see him after that, not until he came back over with a bag, pulling her with him. they ducked down one of the aisles and he tried to spatial jump but it didn't work. he was too tired.

"shit.. come on!" he tried again. in a last effort they ran and jumped over a stall, caught as the lights from the guns shone on them like headlights. both five and y/n froze.

"got him" the one with the pink mask spoke before they were distracted by sirens. five used this to their advantage, pulling y/n out and away from the line of fire. they stayed behind a stand, waiting for the masked shooters to leave before they did themselves.

as they sat y/n finally got a good look at dolores, freezing when she realised she knew the mannequin.

"oh my god.." 

"what?" five furrowed his eyebrows at her.

"you were in a relationship with.. a mannequin?" she looked up at him in disbelief. the mannequin was not her issue though.

"look, if you have a problem-" he glared, ready to defend himself but she shook her head.

"no, no. i get it.. it's just.. " she trailed off awkwardly.

"what?" he snapped, getting impatient.

"five.. my soul was in that mannequin"

tags: @rxses-and-reverie @lostgreekgod @on-yourmark-99 @bicyhot1

[queenshelby]

The Concubine - Part Eight

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Graphic Torture, Blood, Angst, Violence, Loss of Pregnancy, Smut

Words: 2,656

One week has passed since you miscarried and your life had changed quite significantly. You were sharing it with Tommy now and he was very different to Steven. To your surprise, he was gentle and caring and this wasn’t something you were expecting from a man in his position and with his standing.

You knew what he did and what he was involved in. The murders, the killing, the drug trafficking. You weren’t blind and business was always on his mind. In fact, his mind never rested. He couldn’t rest. There was too much to do and he still craved revenge.

Whilst you had never spoken about it again, the beatings and causing you to miscarry, you knew that he wanted to see Steven suffer for what he did to you. But, Steven was nowhere to be found until that very cold Sunday evening where everything changed with a phone call from Arthur.

‘Fucking got em Tom’ Arthur said through the phone and Tommy was quick to put on his jacket and coat, making his way through the door and to his silver Bentley.  

‘Where are you going Tommy?’ you asked surprised as you followed him through the door. He seemed to be in a mad rush.

‘I’ve got work to do Love. Don’t wait up, eh’ Tommy said, turning around briefly to give you a kiss.

‘Tommy, you promised’ you pouted, knowing that tonight was the night your abstinence and hunger for him was to come to end.

‘I will make it up to you, eh?’ Tommy said with a grin before you pulled him in for another kiss.

‘You will?’ you asked, biting your lip seductively. Whilst you were still bruised and hurt, you were desperate for him to take you. You loved being intimate with him.

‘Yes, I will, and you won’t be able to walk straight for fucking days, eh’ Tommy winked before getting into his car, causing you to laugh.

***

When Tommy arrived at the factory building where Arthur and Michael held Steven captive, the anger within him was building and so was his rage.

He knew what Steven had done to you and he knew what he had done to other women, including several working girls at establishments owned by the Shelby family while using an alias.

‘At last, we meet, eh’ Tommy said harshly as he sat down on a chair across from Steven who was bound to a pole with a with rope. A white piece of fabric was tied around his mouth to keep him quiet while he was sweating profusely.

‘It was fucking hard to find you. But now that you are here, your father can go free, get on with business or, more so, start over again because you fucked up, eh’ Tommy said as he removed the white fabric from Steven’s mouth.

‘I haven’t done anything to you. What the hell do you want from me?’ Steven asked, shivering and crying as he did. He was fearful and believed that Tommy was there to kill him.

‘I don’t want anything from scum like you. All I want is for you to pay for your fucking sins, eh’ Tommy growled, pulling Steven up on his shirt as he did.

‘If this is about this whore your brother saved, she fucking deserved it’ Steven then said, unable to hold back his emotion and, just as he did, Tommy pulled off his razor cap and slowly dragged it across Steven’s face, causing him to bleed profusely.

‘Listen to me you little fuck. I have made a deal with your father not to kill you but if you disrespect Y/N again, I will end you in the most painful way possible’ Tommy then said louder as Steven’s screams.

‘She cheated on me and I should have beaten her to death’ Steven growled in anger and pain.

‘He didn’t fucking listen to a word I said’ Tommy observed with a chuckle. ‘Did he fucking listen Arthur?’ he then asked, looking at Arthur.

‘No Tommy. He didn’t listen’ Arthur confirmed.

‘Pull him up, put him onto the table and start with what he did to his fiancée and the whores he visited at our establishments’ Tommy growled, handing one of his men a belt and they were quick to comply with Tommy’s request while Tommy watched.

‘She did fucking cheat on you, didn’t she, eh’ Tommy then said as the tenth stroke hit Steven’s back.

‘Because why would she be with someone like you...’ he went on to say as the twelfth stroke came down, causing Steven to cry in pain.

‘He is enjoying this too fucking much. Hit him harder’ Tommy then instructed before he continued on.

‘Now, I tell you a little secret Steven. The man she cheated on you with was me. Unlike you, I didn’t force her to do anything, treated her with respect and, if it wasn’t for you fucking animal, she would still be carrying my child. You killed my child and you can be grateful that I didn’t know that she was pregnant before she lost the baby, eh. Because if I would have known, you most certainly would die tonight’ Tommy then said, pulling on Steven’s cheek with anger as the 20th stroke hit him.

‘How does it fucking feel, eh? Being treated and abused like this’ Tommy growled when the final stroke came down on Steven’s back and he told his men that this was enough.

‘I am sorry please…please just stop’ Steven pleaded as tears were running down his face.

‘So that you can go back and rape more prostitutes, beat more women or take your anger out on anyone else who is not equal in size to you?’ Tommy asked.

‘I promise, I won’t hurt anyone…please just let me go’ Steven pleaded.

‘No, you won’t. I will make sure of that’ Tommy then said, pulling his face close as the blood from Steven’s cheek-stained Tommy’s clothes.

Then Tommy pulled Steven of the table and, whilst the blood from Steven’s back now also covered Tommy, he forced him to turn around and sit on the chair in the corner.

‘If you come near Y/N, or her family or any of my establishments, I will have you killed and I will also have your father and brothers killed. Do you understand?’ Tommy asked, causing Steven to nod.

‘Good’ he growled before turning around, facing his men.

‘Finish it’ he then ordered before lightening himself a cigarette and handing one of his men a hot piece of metal.

‘This will hurt’ Arthur then said as he followed Tommy to his car and, just as they left the building, they could hear the screams in the distance as Tommy’s men were branding Steven’s skin with the word ‘Rapist’ as a warning for any women who would cross his path.

‘See that the women in our establishments receive compensation for what he has done to them. Also, I am taking a break for two weeks. I trust you can handle matters without me, eh’ Tommy then said to Arthur, causing Arthur to nod.

‘A break? Arthur asked surprised.

‘I promised Y/N a holiday when this is over. And now it’s over’ Tommy then said.

***

It was at around midnight when you heard Tommy’s car pull up in front of the house and, whilst he told you not to stay up, you did and waited for him in the small reading room leading to his office.

‘You waited up, eh’ Tommy said somewhat surprised when he saw you wearing nothing but black and very seductive lingerie as he hung up his jacket and gun holster.

‘Tommy, are you alright? Your clothes are covered in blood’ you said with worry as you quickly walked over towards him.

‘Yes Love, it’s not my blood’ Tommy said, reassuring you before kissing you gently.

‘Then who’s blood is it?’ you asked almost unbothered by it.

‘Steven’s’ Tommy said carefully, leaving you speechless.

‘I wanted to kill him. But I didn’t. Yet, he got what deserved and he won’t be hurting anyone else’ Tommy then said, sighing as he did and, just like that, you crashed your lips onto his in haste.

There was something wrong but yet sexy about all of this, Tommy covered in blood, the man you loved seeking revenge on the man you hated with all your heart.

‘I need you to fuck me, right here and right now’ you said. Your crimson lips curled, taking on a sinful countenance as your ever hungry tongue slithered forth before whispering ‘I need you Tommy’.

‘My clothes are stained with blood Y/N, I should…’ Tommy said, holding back and, before he could finish his sentence, you responded.

‘I don’t care’ you said with urge and Tommy was quick to return your kiss.

You felt small as he towered over you but you drew up to your full height and boldly ran your hands over his chest.

You then stepped back just far enough to let your nimble fingers glide over Tommy’s tie and shirt, unbuttoning his vest and releasing the loose knot of his tie.

‘Fuck’ he simply growled and you watched his eyes crawl from your encased feet, up your stocking legs, to the clasp of the garter...following the garter straps up and noticing what the frame job was doing to your immaculately bare pussy.

You couldn't help but shiver as Tommy took in the sight of your mound. You could tell just how excited he was by your swollen glistening pussy lips and clit peeking out from under its protective hood. Tommy’s eyes only pulled away reluctantly, to continue the sight-seeing journey they started until your eyes met.

What you saw there made your heart skip a beat. Gone was the selfless man that saved you as he once again transformed into a predator ... and you were his prey.

The smile that your face sported grew with a devilish delight. Finally, the week of abstinence was coming to an end and you would get to experience the beast within Tommy again.

You had no time to react as Tommy stepped close, pushing you back against the wall with a resounding grunt, his hands moving to the lace barely covering your breasts and tugged the flimsy material down.

‘Tell me if I am hurting you, alright? Your back is still bruised’ Tommy said caringly and you nodded before pulling him closer again.

‘I need you to fuck me, Tommy. No holding back, please’ you demanded, causing Tommy to chuckle.

Your breasts were fully exposed now with the prickly lace under the tender flesh, your nipples extended and aching. Tommy used this moment to exert his prowess, as strong fingers captured the taut buds, pinching, rolling and tugging them until he heard a familiar moan.

His lips quickly and fiercely covered yours in a consuming kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth, finding yours and battling with it. You knew the demanding kiss was intended to keep you as quiet as possible with the maids around but you couldn't help but return it with equal urgency and demand.

You felt one of Tommy’s hands release your aching nipple and slither down to your fiery pussy. His fingers rough as they worked between the slick folds and against your erect clit. You cried out, his mouth the only thing keeping the sound to a minimum, as your hips bucked against his questing fingers. You ached for those same fingers to worm their way into your seeping hole and give you the slightest moment of relief, but no ... that was not his plan at all.

Your own hands were not still, as the nails of your left hand raked harshly against his shoulder, while your right hand found the buttons of his pants and tore at them. You needed this just as much as he did and were rewarded with little "pops" as the buttons released. You fished your hand behind Tommy’s briefs seeking what you had hoped was his throbbing cock and were again rewarded as your fingers wrapped around his steely member and began to stroke.

Tommy groaned and broke the kiss, panting heavily, nostrils flaring and you saw the darkness in his eyes deepening. His fingers still danced between your thighs and your own hand continued to stroke his hot cock all the while you dared to whisper, ‘I need you inside me Tommy, please’

With each word spilling from your lips, you squeezed his cock in exclamation. There was no doubting your words or purpose.

Tommy needed no other prompting as he pulled his hands from your needy body and worked his pants and boxers down just past his ass, his beautiful cock sprang into full view now, swollen,

Some pre-cum was glistening at the deep red tip and though you longed to tongue bathe that precious organ, Tommy again decided the outcome of this particular adventure.

His hands cupped your ass, lifting you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, your back hard against the wall, your left-hand clutching at him while your right was positioning his cock at your seeping hole. Tommy’s eyes never left yours as he thrusted forward, burying his cock easily into your lava-like cavern.

‘Oh god yes, fuck Tommy’ you moaned before you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth and bit down, wanting so badly to cry out in pure pleasure as Tommy quite literally took you. Each thrust was more powerful than the last and you knew that you would most definitely be sore in the morning.

Tommy’s fingers curled painfully into the flesh of your ass, holding you tightly as he roughly drove his member into your spasming pussy. It didn't surprise you when you felt the index fingers of his hands work their way to your wicked hole and pry before pushing them inside the sinful star.

‘Oh god, fuck’ you moaned as you bit down harder on your lip, tasting blood but managing to squelch the whorish moan that threatened to burst forth.

Tommy worked his fingers in deeper and though you tried, you couldn't gain enough purchase to meet his pounding thrusts. Tommy pulled back just far enough that his swollen tip rubbed the hidden bundle of nerves within you and sent you flying over the edge.

He saw how your eyes widened, how your own nostrils flared and knew you were about to cum. His mouth covered yours possessively again, drinking in the scream of utter bliss and complete orgasmic delight. Your pussy rippled down Tommy’s length, pulling his own release from him.

Your hand left his shoulder and found Tommy’s head, pulling his mouth tightly to yours. It was your turn to devour his guttural growl and devour you did. You drank his pleasure down as his cock spit his precious seed deep into your mound, painting you.

It all happened so fast with an urgency born of intense need. As Tommy’s cock slipped free, he looked into your eyes.

‘Fuck’ Tommy huffed, letting go of you slowly before kissing you again passionately.

‘I missed this Tommy’ you said just before Tommy pulled up his pants and lifted you up.

‘Where are we going?’ you asked as Tommy carried you upstairs.

‘The bathtub for round two, then the bed for round three and I haven’t decided where we will take round four yet, maybe my office…’ Tommy smirked and your eyes widened in disbelieve.

‘I told you, you won’t be walking straight for days, eh’ he then grinned, causing you to giggle.

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[realtasagartach]

Hadestown Chant (Reprise)

Got Hadestown brain rot and noticed how different each version of Chant (Reprise) is. Especially how the studio version doesn't have Persephone's part at all. So here's my version that combines three different iterations I like best:

[HERMES, spoken]

Now everybody knows the walls have ears

[ORPHEUS]

Is it true?

[COMPANY]

Is it true?

[HERMES, spoken]

And the walls had heard what the boy was saying

[ORPHEUS]

Is it true?

[COMPANY]

Is it true?

[HERMES]

A million tons of stone and steel

[ORPHEUS]

Is it true?

[COMPANY]

Is it true?

[HERMES]

Echoed his refrain.

[COMPANY]

Low, keep your head, keep your head low

Oh, you gotta keep your head low

If you wanna keep your head

Oh, you gotta keep your head low

Keep your head, keep your head low

Oh, you gotta keep your head low

If you wanna keep your head

Oh, you gotta keep your head—

[HADES]

Young man, got to hand it to you

Guess you don't scare easy, do ya?

Are you brave or stupid, Son?

Doesn't matter which one

‘Cause it seems your song made quite a strong impression on my wife

But it takes more than singin’ songs to keep a woman in your arms

Take it from a man no longer young

If you want to hold a woman, Son

Hang a chain around her throat

Made of many carat gold

Shackle her from wrist to wrist

With sterling silver bracelets

Fill her pockets full of stones

Precious ones, diamonds

Bind her with a golden band

Take it from an old man

[COMPANY]

Ooohhh

[ORPHEUS]

If I raise my voice

[THE FATES]

If I raise my voice

If I raise my voice

[COMPANY]

Keep your head low

[EURYDICE]

If I raise my head

[THE FATES]

If I raise my head

If I raise my head

[COMPANY]

Keep your head low

[EURYDICE]

Could I change my fate?

[THE FATES AND COMPANY]

Could I change

Could I change

Could I change my fate?

Oh, you gotta keep your head low

[ORPHEUS]

If I raise my voice could I

[COMPANY]

Keep your head low!

[ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE]

Could I change the way it is?

[COMPANY]

Oh, you gotta—

Why do we turn away when our

brother's bleeding?

Oh, keep your head—

Why do we build the wall and then call it freedom?

Oh, keep your head—

If we're free

Tell me why

I can't look in my brother's eye?

Keep your head-

[PERSEPHONE]

When I was a young girl like you

This old world was younger too

We set it spinning hand in hand

Me and a young man

Now you see what he’s become

Hades with his heart of stone

I forgot what true love was

And then I heard your Orpheus

Take it from a woman of my age

There is nothing love can’t change

Even when the bricks are stacked

Love is blooming through the cracks

Even when the light is gone

Love is reaching for the sun

It was love that spun the world

When I was a young girl

[COMPANY]

Ooohhh

[EURYDICE]

If it's not too late

[THE FATES]

If it's not too late

If it's not too late

[COMPANY]

Keep your head low

[EURYDICE]

If I still have time

[THE FATES]

If I still have time

If I still have time

[COMPANY]

Keep your head low

[EURYDICE]

Could I change my fate?

[THE FATES]

Could I change

Could I change

Could I change my fate?

[COMPANY]

Oh, you gotta keep your head low

[EURYDICE]

If it's not too late can I

[COMPANY]

Keep your head low!

[EURYDICE]

Change this fate of mine?

[COMPANY]

Why do we turn away instead of standing with him?

Oh, keep your head—

Why are we digging our own graves for a living?

Oh, keep your head—

If we're free

Tell me why

We can't even stand upright?

If we're free

Tell me when

We can stand with our fellow man

Keep your head—

[PERSEPHONE]

When I was a young girl like you

Sister, I was hungry too

Hungry for the Underworld

When I was a young girl

Now you know how it tastes

The fruit of Mr. Hades’ ways

Sister, it’s a bitter wine—

Spit it out while you still have time

Take it from a woman of my age

Love is not a gilded cage

All the wealth within these walls

Will never buy the thing called love

Love was when he came to me

Begging on his bended knees

To please have pity on his heart

And let him lay me in the dirt

I felt his arms around me then

We didn’t need a wedding bed

Dark seeds scattered on the ground

The wild birds were flying around

That’s when I became his wife

But that was in another life

That was in another world

When I was a young girl!

[COMPANY]

Low, keep your head, keep your head low

Oh, you gotta keep your head low

If you wanna keep your head

Oh, he said he’d shelter us

He said he’d harbor me

He said we’d soldier on

And then the wall would bring us peace

We’re gonna

Count to three and then we’ll raise our heads, singing

One, two, is it true?

Is it true, what he said?

[HADES]

Young man, I was young once too

Sang a song of love like you

Son, I too, was left behind

Turned on one too many times

Now I sing a different song

One I can depend upon

A simple tune, a steady beat

The music of machinery

You hear that heavy metal sound?

The symphony of Hadestown

And in this symphony of mine

Of power cords and power lines

Young man, you can strum your lyre

I have strung the world in wire

Young man, you can sing your ditty

I conduct the electric city!

I'll tell you what, young man

Since my wife is such a fan

And since I'm going to count to three

And put you out of your misery

One! Give me one more song

One more song before I send you

Two! To the great beyond

Where nobody can hear you singing

Three! Sing a song for me

Make me laugh, make me weep

Make the king feel young again

Sing for an old man!

[deans-baby-momma]

The Story of Us-Chapter 16

A/N: This is a rewrite of a story my good friend @spnbaby-67​ allowed me to take and rewrite. All mistakes are mine. This is canon divergent, meaning some things that happened in the show will still happen here but with my own twist to it.

Summary: She and Dean met when they were kids. Even at such a young age, she knew that he was her soulmate. Being the daughter of a hunter, Michaela (Micki) Singer knew the life he led came with a price, but she was up to the challenge.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Micki Singer

Warnings: Flashbacks are in italics, fluffy stuff, angst stuff, character death, depression, semi-dark themes

A/N2: This chapter is ALL flashback.

After Lilith possessed Ruby and let the hellhound in, Dean was torn to shreds right before Sam's eyes.

He lay there, lifeless and bleeding as Lilith tried to end Sam too but her attack was left wanting; it did nothing to him so she took off.

Sam carried his brother's body out and laid it in the backseat of Baby, got in the driver's seat and headed back to the motel they'd booked, back to Bobby and Micki. He was so wrapped up in his grief that he didn't get out of the car fast enough. Micki came running out and threw open the back door before he could get to her.

She screamed and cried and fell to her knees but never took her eyes off of Dean, she screamed herself hoarse and then puked everywhere. Sam had to practically lift her off the ground and help her back inside before he and Bobby could tend to the older Winchester.

Then when they were in the main room discussing salting and burning the body, Micki came stomping in and yelled at them.

"YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY NOT BURNING HIS BODY! YOU HEAR ME YOU ASSHOLES! HE IS NOT BRING PUT ON NO FUCKING PYRE ANE SET ON FIRE! YOU TRY IT AND YOU'LL BE FUCKING SORRY,  I PROMISE YOU THAT."

"Well, sweetie, what do you suggest?" her dad asked.

"We are cleaning him up and we are burying him. End of discussion." And then she turned and walked out the door.

The three of them worked together and cleaned every single tear and laceration on Dean's body before Michaela dressed him as best she could.

They drive out to a deserted field lined with  trees where Bobby and Sam work tirelessly to build a makeshift coffin and dig a hold while Micki sits in the backseat of the Impala, holding Dean's head in her lap.

"Dean. Oh god Dean," she cried. "Why? Why did you have to leave me-us? We needed you baby. Our daughter and I need you," she smiled through the tears as she realized what she just said. "That's right. It's a girl. I was going to surprise you when we defeated Lilith and sent that bitch back to Hell."

With one hand on the top of his head, Micki placed the other on three prominent bump of her abdomen.  "Your daughter will always know what a hero her father was; how he fought to save the world. I promise you, Maren will know that her daddy, Dean Winchester, was a good and decent man. Barney, Dean. Fucking Barney."

Micki leaned down and placed her warm lips to his cold, limp ones. She stood beside her father and her best friend and pseudo brother-in-law as they put her boyfriend's body into the box, covered it and lowered it into the ground.

After erecting a makeshift cross of twigs as a headstone, she climbed back into the Impala and the three of them drove away. 

In the days and weeks after Dean's 'funeral', Micki kept to herself in her room, only coming out to use the bathroom.

She only ate a portion of what food her dad or Sam brought up to her, even after they both begged and reminded her that she had to eat to keep the baby healthy. 

But everytime Micki thought of the child in her womb,she broke down in sobs. Her daughter would never get to meet her father,  would never witness or benefit from the love of the man who was Dean.

It had been almost a month after Dean's untimely murder that Micki felt the first twinge of discomfort in her stomach. Thinking it was just the little girl inside her moving she shrugged it off.

Two days later, the pain was so incessant that she was beginning to wonder if something was wrong. The annoying aches had turned to continuous rolls of cramps. She was in agony!

"SAM! DAD!" she yells, hoping the two men left in her life were nearby. When she heard two sets of feet running up the stairs she knew they'd heard her.

"What's wrong honey?" Bobby had asked out of breath; Sam coming in behind him, not quite as wonderful but still panting.

"I don't know!" Micki cried. "There's something wrong. Something is going on with the baby. I'm hurting. Owwww!" 

Doubling over in pain, Micki wrapped her arms around her very pregnant stomach. Bobby and Sam both jumped into action, her dad pulling her out of bed and into his arms as Sam ran back downstairs to get the car.

The whole way to the hospital Micki screamed and cried in pain as she squeezed Sam's hand while Bobby drove.  Sam winced in agony, thinking his hand was going to be crushed.

Nurses rushed Micki into a triage room where the attendant asked what Micki would clarify as stupid, unless questions before they transferred her to Labor & Delivery floor.

The RN there mistakenly took Sam as the father and had him stand by Micki's side while they examined her.

"Talk to her and keep her calm," the nurse urges. "Distress isn't good for your child." Sam wanted to correct her but Micki called out his name so he just does as he's told.

"Shhh, it's gonna be okay. They're going to check on that little girl and make sure she's just fine."

"Sam," Micki cries, tears streaking down her face. "I can't lose her. She has to be okay. I can't lose her too!"

"You won't. I promise."

The doctor came in then. He was a short, stout man with graying hair. He's donned in a surgeon's gown and stopped to pull some disposable gloves on before taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

"Hello. I'm Dr. LeSarge. How are we today," he asked. 

"Peachy," Micki snarkily gritted out. 

"Okay," the doctor answered, realizing the absurdity of his question. "Let's get your feet in the stirrups and I'll take a looksee what's going on."

Sam turned his head as the nurse helped get Micki situated where she needed to be. Micki hissed out so Sam looked to see what was happening  

His face flushed red when he realized that he was seeing parts of Micki he should have never seen.

"Well Ms. Singer, it looks like you are in active labor," the doctor announced as he stood and removed the soiled gloves. "You are dilated to 6 and the mucus plug is missing. A few more hours and your baby will be here."

"But," Sam said. "It's not time. She has 6 more weeks."

"These things happen son," the doctor responded as he took the chart and flipped some pages. "Looks like everything is okay. Baby is healthy and not in too much distress. So, we'll just monitor her progression and before the night's over, you'll be parents. Congratulations!"

Sam and Micki just stared after the doctor as he left the room.

"Sam," Micki pleaded. "What if she doesn't make it? What if she's too young? Oh god!"

Sam tried his best to console and comfort Micki as she suffered through not only the panic of the baby been being born early, but the pain of her body preparing for it.

Eight hours later, a wrinkly, crying, pinkish bundle was placed on Micki's chest as the nurse pulled Sam down to the foot of the bed to cut the cord.

After the scissors severed the tissue, Sam did the unthinkable. He didn't even consciously realize what he'd done before it was too late. 

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss​ @spnbaby-67​ @tftumblin​ @sea040561​ @delightfullykrispypeach​ @larajadeschmidt13​ @atc74​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @squirrelnotsam​  @sandlee44​ @blacktithe7​ @hoboal87​ @mogaruke​ @deanwanddamons​ @supraveng​ @deandreamernp​ @akshi8278​ @lyarr24​ @maggiegirl17​ @chriszgirl92​ 

[ragingbookdragon]

Bring On The Wonder, We Got It All Wrong, We Pushed Us Down Deep In Our Souls, So Hang On

Batsis x Ghost-Maker One-Shot

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: This is a direct continuation of this piece right here that everyone got mad at me for because I made it angsty :) Enjoy! -Thorne

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

“Will you slow down?” Bruce complained, reaching her in a few steps. “Your ankle is sprained and you’re going to—”

She turned on him, slapping his hand away from where it was reaching for her. “I don’t wanna look or talk to you or anybody else right now.” She spat. “Take the hostages to GCPD and leave me the fuck alone.”

“He wasn’t going to kill you.” Bruce said and she scowled.

“It doesn’t matter what he was or wasn’t going to do.” She pointed to herself. “I thought he was going to. That’s what matters to me.” She turned and took a step, though her leg faltered, and she went to her knees, reaching to hold her ankle. “Fuck,” she hissed. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“(Y/N),” he murmured, bending down beside her and she reached up, yanking the cowl off.

“Everything hurts,” she cried, anger and pain lacing her voice. “My back hurts. My chest hurts. Everything fucking hurts.” She reached up to wipe the blood still leaking from her busted nose and split eyebrow. “And I’m bleeding.” (Y/N) licked her lips, feeling the sting from the broken skin of her bottom one.

Bruce’s hand went to his utility belt, unclipping one of the pockets, and he pulled out a rag; he gently raised it to her eyebrow, dabbing at the blood as he quietly stated, “Your eyebrow’s already in hemostasis. Though it’s going to need stitches.” His hand briefly stilled near her swollen eye, then he continued to her nose where he gently held it.

She whimpered, trying to recoil but he held on. “That hurts.”

“You need to stop the bleeding,” he advised, then grabbed her hand and placed it over his, forcing her to take it.

“What are you doing?”

Bruce didn’t answer her, one arm curling under her knees, the other her back and he hefted her up into his arms. “I’ll take you back to your penthouse.”

(Y/N) wanted to cry, and she was helpless to stop the tears that gathered in her eyes; she turned, burying her face in the plate of her brother’s shoulder pad, breathing deeply to keep her sobs at bay.

“I don’t know what’s going to come after this,” he explained softly, careful to take even steps to avoid jostling her. “But I know that you’re the only one who gets to choose what happens between you and him.” He rested his chin on her head. “And if you choose to take a leave for a while, then I’ll support that.”

She let out a shuddering breath. “I just want to crawl in a hole.”

“Want me to get my shovel and dig you one?”

A watery laugh passed her lips, though it dissolved into a sob and with her free hand, she reached over and grabbed Bruce’s opposite shoulder, squeezing tightly as she shook against him.

He inhaled deeply, catching Ghost-Maker from the corner of his eye leading the hostages out. “We’re going to be okay, (Y/N).”

***

Turns out that the leave of absence seemed like the best choice for her, and she’d hunkered down in a safe-house about three hundred miles outside of the state on the edges of the McIntyre Wild Area in Pennsylvania. Bruce and she had bought it years ago as a last-ditch effort if they needed to get out of Gotham and it’d taken the two of them, plus Clark to clear it out and build. Half of the time was having Clark laugh at the two siblings and call them “city-slickers trying to be country folk” as he watched them struggle to tame the land.

But in the end, it had been effective, and they’d built a rather cozy safe-house that looked inconspicuously like Ma and Pa Kent’s home in Smallville. It was stocked with everything they needed, a built-in basement for safe measures. She was alone and secure in the small cabin and that’s how she wanted to be. Since leaving some few days ago, she’d messaged each nephew and niece telling them that while she loved them dearly, she needed to be alone for some time and that she’d be back as soon as she could be.

They’d flooded her phone with messages and concerns, but she’d left the device in her penthouse before leaving, resting assured that Bruce would explain in her absence. She felt like a failure and more so, weak for leaving her brother with the job of explaining, but the last thing she wanted to do was explain the situation herself.

She sat on the couch in front of the fireplace, gazing absentmindedly as the flames cast light that flickered around the darkened room. The entire room was open, living room and fireplace in the center, bedroom in one corner, kitchen in the other, a closed bathroom in another. It all smelled like pine. Fresh air and the ingraining scent of pine. But it’s what she needed. Gotham City overwhelmed the olfactory senses with blood and smog and on especially bad days, the rotting scent of fish and death. Everyone needed a break from it at some point in their life; to remember how to breathe in air that wasn’t contaminated.

The only thing she didn’t like was how quiet it was. (Y/N) was used to the distant sounds of traffic, gunshots, and sirens. Here it was the sound of her breathing and the wind whistling through the trees, wildlife scratching and hunting away in the underbrush. She swore she could hear her blood flowing through her brain. If there was any consolation, it did help to hone the senses on what she wanted to hear. And what she didn’t want to hear was knocking at the front door.

Quietly she rose from the couch and walked to the side of her bed, grabbing the loaded twelve gauge; she cocked it and stepped up to the door, warning, “If you’re not park rangers, I suggest you leave now. I’m armed and I will shoot you.”

A muffled chuckle sounded from the other side. “Well, that’s not the way I figured you’d greet me.”

“Oh, so you were expecting the shotgun blast then?” she answered aiming at the door and she pulled the trigger, blasting a large hole in the center of the wooden door. (Y/N) waited until the smoke cleared before she walked up and bent down, peeking through to see him flat on the ground, unharmed, reflexive as ever.

“Damn,” she griped. “I really thought I was going to beat you that time, K.”

Ghost-Maker cocked his head up and she was sure he was glaring at her from beneath the mask. “You crazy—”

“Bitch?” (Y/N) finished. “Tell me about it.” She set the gun next to the door and stood up, flipping the lock before pulling it open. “What do you want.”

“Well, I was coming to see you,” he said, picking himself off the ground; dusting himself off, he added, “You wouldn’t answer me.”

“Huh, I wonder why?” (Y/N) questioned, pressing her finger to her chin in mock thought, then her face lit up and she exclaimed, “Maybe it was because you tried to kill me a week ago!”

“I wasn’t going to kill you.” He griped. “You know I wasn’t going to.”

“Noted. What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you and if you’re smart, you’ll leave before I decide to reload the gun.”

Ghost-Maker sighed, gazing at her. “I was using Kyusho Jitsu to slow you down until Bruce arrived.”

(Y/N) wanted to scream, but she kept her voice level. “And that somehow justifies splitting both lips, one eyebrow, busting my nose, and throwing me into an electric fence?”

“…No,” he murmured. “No, it doesn’t.” He looked at her. “But I was concerned that if I didn’t make it look like we were really trying to kill one another, Riddler was going to kill the hostages.”

She merely stared at him for a long moment. “You know, I used to think I knew when you were telling the truth, but now that I really think about it, I don’t know when you’re lying to me either.”

He stood to his full height, jaw tightening as he said, “I’m many things, but I’m not a liar, (Y/N). And I’d never lie to you.”

“I don’t believe you,” she shot back, face pinching as she finished with, “And you can sleep outside.”

She shut the door and turned around, walking to the bed in the corner and he looked through the hole in the middle. “You know I can just come inside if I want?”

(Y/N) laughed, stripping the shorts and long shirt she had on before climbing into the bed. “You take one step in here and I’ll cut your penis off and nail it to your forehead.”

“Hmm…have it your way,” he decided, turning around and she had as she tried, she couldn’t block out the sound of him setting up his blanket and bedding on the porch.

Hopefully, he’d be gone in the morning.

***

A crack of thunder startled her awake and she sat up in the bed, looking out the window to see the rain beating down. Her eyes drifted to the hole in the door and for a moment, she wanted to get up and see if he was okay, but she felt a bolt of irritation flash through her and she huffed, flopping back down into the bed, yanking the covers over her head.

She laid there for a few minutes, listening to the thunder clap above her, the lightning illuminating the room ever other moment, then she groaned, cursing herself for being a good person deep, deep down. (Y/N) threw the covers off her and rolled out of the bed, hurrying to the door. Pulling it open, she couldn’t help but smile at the man curled up in his thoroughly soaked blanket.

“Come inside.” He said nothing in return, and she sighed, kicking him in the stomach. “I know you’re awake, K. Get in here.”

“I thought you didn’t want me inside,” he retorted, yet to pull the blanket off his head.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. “I don’t. But I’d be a terrible person if I let you get pneumonia.”

“You know you can’t catch that from rain, right? It’s caused by—”

“Fine. Stay out here for all I care,” she interrupted, starting to close the door and he sat up, scrambling for the inside.

“Wait!” She smirked and he craned his neck up at her to scowl. “You did that on purpose.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” (Y/N) retorted, cracking the door open more so he could get inside. He sat against the door when she closed it and she leaned against the door frame, watching the water drip down his soaked body.

“Want a change of clothes?” she asked. “Bruce left some behind the last time he was here.”

“Thank you,” he said, and she walked over to the dresser, pulling out a pair of boxers and an undershirt.

She turned, seeing him yanking off his shirt and pants, then tossed the clothes to him. “Here.”

He caught them. “I’m not wearing his boxers.”

“They’re new, jack-ass.” (Y/N) snorted, looking away so he could dress himself, then she glanced back. “Feel better?”

“I feel less cold,” he retorted, walking around the fireplace to toss another couple logs inside. “You’re letting the fire die out.”

She rolled her eyes and wandered into the kitchen, returning with a clean rag. “You’d be less cold if you took the mask off and toweled your hair.”

He looked up at her, watching, waiting, and since he didn’t stop her from reaching behind him, she untied the knot at the base of his skull, pulling the damp fabric away.

(Y/N) wiped the water from his face, softly brushing over his cheeks, then to his eyebrows, and when she was satisfied, she placed the towel on his head, and gently massaged his scalp, letting the towel soak up all the rainwater.

When she was done, she tossed it aside and sank onto the brick wraparound with a heavy sigh, eyes drifting to the wall. Ghost-Maker collapsed against her legs, resting his head back on her thighs; unconsciously, (Y/N)’s hands went to his hair, stroking the brown tresses.

After a few minutes, he murmured, “I apologize for not telling you the plan.”

Her hands stilled for a moment before continuing their ministrations. “I accept your apology.” She scratched his scalp. “Sorry for what I said.”

“It didn’t hurt my feelings,” he shrugged, and she tugged his hair.

“Yes, it did.” He tipped his head back, gazing at her. “Parade it around all you want but we both know you’re not immune to having your feelings hurt.”

Ghost-Maker searched her eyes. “You truly thought I was going to kill you?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) answered. “Everything was happening so quickly. I didn’t have time to think about what fighting style you were using on me. All I knew was that you weren’t pulling punches and it didn’t feel like a plan to me.”

She stared at him. “And I was scared of you.”

“Are you scared of me now?” he questioned, and she inhaled then exhaled.

“No.” He seemed relieved, but it was short lived as she added, “But I don’t trust you anymore. And I don’t know how long it’s going to be before I do again.”

He looked away. “I see.” Nothing was said for a moment, and he pulled from her, standing to his feet. “It’s late. We should rest.”

(Y/N) stood and started making her way to the bed when she realized he was going too. “Uh, what are you doing?”

“Going to bed?” Ghost-Maker offered, and she cocked a brow.

“Try again, K.” She pointed to the couch. “Go.”

His face pinched and he turned, but she caught his hand and he stopped, glancing back at her. (Y/N), against the better judgement in her head and the obvious discomfort between the two of them, stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her forehead to the middle of his chest.

He seemed to freeze at the sudden action, even if it’d been one, they’d done many times, but he recovered, one arm wrapping around her waist, the other around the back of her neck. His cheek brushed her temple and her grip shifted, hands coming up to press flat against his shoulders; with the warmth stinging the corners of her eyes, she dug her nails into his back as if it were the one thing keeping her from breaking down.

She wanted to say it. Wanted to tell him how angry she was. How hurt. How much loathing was built up inside of her, but nothing would come out.

“I know,” Ghost-Maker murmured against her hair. “I know what you’re thinking, (Y/N), and I know.” He pulled back, hand slipping from her neck to cup her cheek; he pressed his forehead to hers and assured quietly, “I know.”

(Y/N)’s eyes slipped shut and she let out a shaky breath. “Tomorrow,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“Tomorrow.” He let her go and watched as she unsteadily headed for the bed, collapsing onto the mattress; she tugged the blankets over her head, and he frowned as he saw her frame start to shake beneath them. Pulling the blanket off the couch, he laid down and watched her for some time. Waiting until she stopped shaking and slipped off into sleep so he himself could sleep too.