#and elias is just nasty disgusting man

[duck-era-lexi]

heath is 6’4, this is inspired by nate from euphoria (charlottes not maddy though, she’s more like jules). she’s a mix of jules and maddy i think, free spirited and quirky but small and petite.

#ptk #and elias is just nasty disgusting man #who has blond hair and bmi of like 4

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

Op… you make a lot of interesting claims in this post. To get the facts straight before I go on a rant… 1) George claims that Rhaegar was a love struck prince 2) the books don’t mention anything about any marriages being annulled/anyone being set aside 3) seems like Dorne has no issue with Rhaegar and 4) Ned literally never thinks anything bad about Rhaegar… but thinks ill of Robert.

First off, a man trapped in a duty bound marriage and finding love outside that marriage is completely different from a whoremonger shouting about his love while visiting brothels whenever he could. And guess what… Ned straight up thinks that Rhaegar didn’t seem like someone who’d visit brothels. Robert and Rhaegar couldn’t be any more different.

And when did Lyanna want to be wild and free? When is it ever said that Rhaegar locked her in the tower of joy and that Lyanna was a prisoner?

Ned never even alludes to there being any truth in any of these claims. What we do know is that Lyanna greatly resembles Arya in looks and personality… and Arya wants to be a high septon and kings counselor, meaning Arya wants to have a position of power and not be reduced to a baby making machine. Going off of that… it seems like Lyanna didn’t want to be “wild and free,” she just wanted to be treated with respect. The only reason Arya is even treated like she’s wild is because she doesn’t conform to the Westerosi standards for highborn women.

And of course she’d feel miserable when she heard Aerys killed her brother and father. Aerys. Not Rhaegar. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she felt guilt about what happened, but in the end it was Aerys who brutally killed them. And then Rhaegar goes to protect his family and dies, and then Rhaegar’s family is brutally killed and then Lyanna dies. George did claim that the greatest love stories are the tragedies (i may be misremembering but i know he said something along the lines of that lmao).

Op, you claim that Rhaelyas love would’ve died after getting news of the Starks deaths, and then you try to suggest that Rhaegar may have been keeping Lyanna isolated from news in Dorne… like please pick a story to go with! And Rhaelyas love dying or Lyanna not being kept updated on what was going on outside of Dorne just doesn’t seem to be true. When reading Neds chapters, it seems like Lyanna was fully aware of what happened to Rhaegar’s children and Elia… as Lyanna pleaded with Ned like how Sansa pleaded with Ned to not kill Lady (hope i’m not misremembering here lol). And Rhaegar dying with a woman’s name on his lips (likely Lyanna’s name) and Lyanna clutching a winter rose (this may just be symbolism for baby Jon tbh) until she passed away seems to contradict your belief that their love died.

Also, where are you getting the “Rhaegar would suggest to set aside his kids and wife to marry Lyanna” from? The show? You mention how Lyanna would not be okay with this, and I agree that Lyanna would never be fine with setting Elia and Elia’s children aside. But even thinking that Rhaegar would ever even suggest setting aside Elia and his children is bonkers. Like seriously… there was so much tension between Aerys and Rhaegar that the Royal court was said to have begun looking like the situation before the Dance of the Dragons. And Dorne was Rhaegar’s greatest support! Why would it make any sense for him to annul his marriage with Elia? And please remember that during the sack Rhaenys hid under her fathers bed. The text supports him loving his kids/his child who wasn’t a baby seeking to be protected by him so why would he endanger them and their positions? (and no, disappearing with Lyanna for awhile isn’t him endangering his family. Aerys was the one who endangered his family (hot take brandon was the one who endangered the starks like wth was he thinking???). and tbh it seems like Aerys knew exactly where to find Rhaegar so did Rhaegar and Lyanna even disappear? or were they just keeping their location a secret from the rebels? the rebels who ended up killing Rhaegar’s family?)

I will say that how op first started to characterize Lyanna is something I agree with, her being principled, noble, honorable, and just with a sensitive side seems to be true, but then op goes on to continue to claim that Lyanna was wild and that she had little regard as to how other people perceived her. There’s no reason for us to believe that she didn’t care about what others thought of her or that she was wild and wanted freedom more than anything, it just seems like she dared to tread away from what was expected of Westerosi highborn women and that she didn’t want to be married to Robert. And guess what… Robert ended up being an abuser! *gasp* Lyanna dear… you clocked Robert right away.

And seriously… how does any of what op mentioned back up their claim that Lyanna would never resign herself to the position of a mistress? Is being a mistress/paramour really that bad? Does it truly seem like Lyanna would look down on those women? Her mini me Arya doesn’t look down on the courtesans of Braavos who occupy a similar position as mistresses in society. And it seems like plenty of noblewomen have been mistresses in the past and they are still as respected as a woman can be in Westerosi society. Missy Blackwood and Elaena Targaryen are right there. And Op, if Lyanna was Rhaegar’s mistress, why would you think that Lyanna couldn’t have been happy? Are we going to doubt Ellarias happiness and her love of Oberyn because they weren’t married? Should I doubt Rhaenyra and Harwins happiness because Rhaenyra was married to Laenor? Rhaegar and Elias marriage was not a love match. And if Rhaegar and Lyanna did marry… ever wonder if polygamy was introduced as a Valyrian practice by George to hint at Rhaegar taking a second wife? Should I now doubt Rhaenys and Aegons happiness and love because Rhaenys was Aegons second wife?

Now can we please stop acting like two people married due to duty have any reason to love each other? Nedcat seems to be an exception in Westeros. Lyanna and Rhaegar falling in love isn’t ruining Elia and Rhaegar’s marriage when love wasn’t there in the first place.

haha my whole post is a bit messy i just wanted to get my thoughts out :)

fuckkkk i want to tag more (my tags are a mess lmao no i’ve not gone through them and no they will not make any sense)

#robert was a brute #when did lyanna seem disgusted by roberts bastards? #seems like she was just disgusted by roberts behavior of claiming to love her while visiting brothels #say it with me folks: there’s not a single mention of rhaegar loving elia their marriage was for duty #so no rhaegar is not like robert bc rhaegar found love outside of his marriage of duty #robert treated lyanna like an object and never even saw/loved the real her #lyanna clocked that and later fell in love with a man who loved the real her #aka the knight of the laughing tree #yeah the text hasn’t truly confirmed anything yet but at least my version of events isn’t contradicted by the books #omg ppl need to stop acting like being a mistress is some morally corrupt position god damn #nedcat you will always be famous #but jon snow will always be even more famous #bc he’s rhaelyas love child #rip rhaegar lyanna and elia i’ll save you guys from tumblr bad takes #i love that george makes it clear that marriages of duty can be nasty affairs #and tumblr desides to demonize characters who dared to find love instead of criticizing the system of selling daughters off like broodmares #like bruh i would be sooo happy to learn if elia had a paramour on the side #i’m looking at you elia x ashara shippers #tho i don’t think that they had a romantic relationship i do find it hilarious that ppl who claim rhaegar is horrible and endangered his #…family turn around and applaud elia for potentially doing the same… #couldn’t be me tho i pretend that rhaelya and their children are perfectly happy and that elia found love as well #as i think rhaelya were well in their rights to go against the system that tried making them miserable and i hope elia did the same #these tags are a mess and kinda don’t make sense lmao #rhaegar targaryen you will always be famous #asoiaf fandom critical #rip boar you will be missed #robert deserved worse #ppl need to stop acting like rhaelya is homewrecking when george himself calls elia and rhaegar’s marriage complex #jon will learn that his parents were in love and he’ll learn good shit about them and he’ll think good thoughts about them #and then this fandom will go insane and jon will start being hated like dany for daring to love his parents

[katshuya]

When I read Rhaelya's stans take on how much we who talk about Elia are so awful for making Elia nothing but a victim when she was definitely more than that, I feel like vomiting.

How selfish, cruel, and pitiful can a person be?

Because when you ask them what Elia could have possible been the answer is always either whoring around or was too awesome and progressive to care at all for how she was used as baby machine because she was going to be Queen and she wanted to stabilize her position.

And that appearantly a very cool personality and characterization.

I know a lot of people have no brain, but sometimes, heart and humanity help.

But I guess it's nothing compared to getting smooched by a man who left his family in danger for more than a year while he was having joy at a tower he named Joy.

Like I get it. You can't get prince charming out of your head but why not stay silent and just dream about it or go to talk to him in bots instead of telling the world of how cruel, jealous and nasty you can be because you don't want anyone to stand between you and your fictional perfect man? Why can't you like your awful man in silence without degrading Elia and hiding behind the perfect logic fan facade?

Why is being cruel and jealous is the only way about it? Why can't you like him like a normal person?

Disgusting. You really have no reason to do that.

#elia martell #anti rhaegar #anti rhaegar x lyanna #lyanna isn't faultless #anti rhaelya stans #lyanna stark #rhaegar targaryen #elia deserves better #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #asoiaf

[waitingforwinterwinds]

Game of Thrones - 58 EDDARD XV (pages 604-613)

After an unknown length of time in sensory deprivation prison, Ned gets a visit from Varys who catches him up on the state of things, and reminds Ned he still has people to protect or not.

The reader, having spent far too long trying to estimate the size of a courtyard with asymmetric garden beds from pictures that were all in isometric views and is thus quite grumpy, is being perhaps a little unkind to the characters tonight.

-

Cracks ran down his face, fissures opening in his flesh, and he reached up and ripped the mask away. It was not Robert at all; it was Littlefinger, grinning, mocking him. When he opened his mouth to speak, his lies turned into pale grey moths and took wing.

Petyr wishes he looked as cool as Gandalf doing that (and he's not even real.

ewwww, that's disturbing

I still kinda wish that had made it into the show. They cut out such good mental health update moments!!!

Not surprised Ned's going through the mental wringer though, between the pre-existing mental exhaustion, the pain from his leg, what ever coming of milk of the poppy is doing and the full on sensory deprivation of this cell? Ick. Like seriously ick, this is like the black magic recipe for near instant mental breakdown.

Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when Prince Rhaegar urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost. Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark.

I feel like that is such a good metaphor for that whole thing. A large chunk (not necessarily the majority, but certainly not a small number from my observations) tend to think Lyanna and Rhaegar were romantic (I blame the show, just as a default maneuver because it saves time) but he was a married man and she was a literal child. She died giving birth at sixteen. Which means she had to have been with Rhaegar since closer to at least fifteen, but almost certainly younger. If this happened in the modern era, we'd be disgusted. Or maybe the 'but it's so romantic true love, secret marriage UwU' crew would do a flip and join the 'this young girl clearly seduced this married man with her feminine wiles' brigade. Goodness knows the bullshit in Hollywood proves that's a real reaction people have.

But back to the metaphor.

Because part of the narrative, especially the one driven by the show, really tried to dress it up like it was supposed to be romantic, this 'love' that dragged an entire country to bloody war, but underneath, once you start to actually look, if you start to feel it out, it's nasty and full of pain.

But also: how heavy must the weight of this gotten for Ned? The guilt for not saving her, for not keeping his promise perfectly, for the harm trying to keep that promise caused, intentional or not? And he has this weird "Even now, he was a Stark of Winterfell, and his grief and rage froze hard inside him." thing going on.

I am prescribing this entire family to therapy.

"- They taught me that each man has a role to play, in life as well as in mummery. So it is at court. The King's Justice must be fearsome, the master of coin must be frugal, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard must be valiant... and the master of whispers must be sly and obsequious and without scruple. A courageous informer is as useless as a cowardly knight." ... "Your own ends. What ends are those, Lord Varys?" "Peace," Varys replied without hesitation. ... "I want you to serve the realm," Varys said. ... "- Tell me, Lord Varys, who do you truly serve?" Varys smiled thinly. "Why, the realm, my good lord, how could you ever doubt that? -"

Is that how you sleep at night Varys? By telling yourself 'it's just your job, what could you possibly do to help people?' Is that how you justify yourself? Everything you do is for the people, it's all for the peace. Then why not stop Jon Arryn's murder? Why not stop Littlefinger sewing the seeds that started this farce? Or did your information somehow miss that when you seemingly know everything else?

Either you know everything, and you allowed this all to happen, or you don't know as much as you claim. Which is it, Varys?

You disparage Ned's honour and the court for playing the game of thrones in much the same breath. Did it never occur to you, that the reason the game of thrones goes on, is because corruption is allowed to fester within the establishment of power, because any time someone with honour or a sense of actual justice tries to do anything to better the government, they get cut down and left to rot in a ditch.

"Or are you in league with Littelfinger?" That seemed to amuse the eunuch. "I would sooner wed the Black Goat of Qohor. -"

Now I'm just imagining Littelfinger and Varys playing little league baseball, complete with uniforms. "Black Goat of Qohor" hmm? hang on a tic... ... Not sure if Satan or Christmas (Gävle) Goat.

Awww, Rhaenys' kitten was called Balerion, that's so cute.

This world is so cruel. It shouldn't be, but the people who would say "it's not fair, so I'll make it fair" either never have the power to do so, or don't have the power to do so long enough to actually do so.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #game of thrones #got #a chapter a day reading #ned stark #eddard stark

[imaginewarehouse]

Various Males x Fem!ExModel!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: You, a retired model get hired at Cloud 9 and, not-at-all-surprisingly, you get harassed by every allegeable (According to them) bachelor in the place- but god fucking damnit! You’re just here to get a paycheck??!  

“You can’t knock ‘em out, you cant walk away,

Try desperately to think about the politest way to say,

“Just get out of my face,”, “Just leave me alone,”

“And no you cant have my number,”,

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

(Inspired by Lily Allen’s Knock ‘Em Out)

Includes (In order of appearance after the introduction bit): Sal Kazlauskas, Garret McNeil, Tate Staskiewicz, Isaac (And I think my favouritism here definitely bleeds through*Cough*), Elias Greene, Cory, Jonah Simms, and Marcus White.

Warnings: Sal, harassment (They leave after you say no though. Just to be sure) 

🔆  🔆  🔆

“And uh, yeah one last thing before we all hop off to work! We have a new Cloud 9 family member. Y/N! Would you like to stand up?” Glenn, the lovely man who took your interview a week ago and then went out of his way today to look for you out front in the morning to show you around quickly and guide you through clocking in, finds you in the crowd of workers and gestures for you to stand.

Oh, uh- uhh, okay! Up we get, then, you think as you stand up like he said and take a look around at all the judging eyes, which normally wouldn’t phase you but here is a lot scarier than what you’re used to. This an entirely different environment to getting up at a modelling gig- you know nothing about working this kind of job! You’ve never done it, so, you’re afraid they’ll judge you right off the bat and make it difficult for you to ask questions. And you can’t keep bothering Glenn- he has more important things to do.

Oh god, you hear whispering. You peer around. Where is that coming from?-

“This is Y/N L/N! She’ll be working with Go back’s today,” Right, Go Back’s Easy enough; Glenn explained them earlier before the meeting started. “So if you see her in your area- be sure to say hello and see if she needs some help, K? Good. We’re jazzed to have you with us Y/N.”

“Thank you!” You quip quickly, then sit down and focus on Glenn again, hoping dearly at the same time that attention disperses from you immediately.

Glenn smiles, glancing down at his clipboard for any last-minute messages. “Okay! I think that’s it, so- “

The whispering from before suddenly cuts off. “Uh yeah, question?” Glenn stops short when a man in the back kind of rudely cuts him off, but sighs out a ‘Yes, Marcus?’ as the woman beside him - Dina, - rolls her eyes severely. Oh, you let a tiny ghost of a smirk slip over your lips. That’s kind of a reaction, isn’t it? “Yo- new girl.” What- me- w h y- You immediately get awkward again and twist around in your chair, but don’t really know who to look at. Luckily the tall brunette in the warehouse uniform is pointing, so you figure it out pretty quick that that’s who you’re looking for, and calm down. Mostly. 

Yeah? You raise one eyebrow. “Hi?”

He grins back to the right and the left of him, to his equally pleased buddies and pals, before raising a Vogue magazine- and it’s the issue on which you scored the front page. Jeez, that was months ago! “Is this you?”

A chorus of ‘Ohhhhh’ and general excitement travels around the room and for the first time ever, you’re half ashamed to admit that yes that is you. In your usual circle this is something to be proud of… but you get that it isn’t really like that, in non-modelling circles. In fact, it could be something to be embarrassed about.

Especially seeing that oh dude and his gang of Michael Myers fashion wannabes look like a hungry, dim-witted, wolves rather than plainly interested about your modelling career.

But, still, you smile politely and nod. Hopefully it’ll be forgotten before the afternoon, at least. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Nice.”

Hmm… you really, really hope that it’s forgotten soon, at least, as you turn back around to face the front again as Glenn sends everyone off to work. Because if not, then these boys are going to learn the hard way that models take self-defence classes religiously.

Or at least you are going to have a very uncomfortable day, which is just great. You groan inwardly at the thought, as you gather up your coffee from the table beside you and drop it in the trash can on the way out.

~

You’re just doing your own thing and someone

Comes out of the blue,

They’re like,

“Alright”

But he’s saying

“Yeah can I take your digits?”

And you’re like, “No, not in a million years, you’re nasty.

Please leave me alone.”

There’s already so many Go Back’s! You think excitedly, as you get to work looking for where things should be. You’re glad to have something to do- at your first job with Chuck E Cheese, before you got into the modelling thing, you were basically useless the first day because you weren’t allowed to grill yet, you didn’t know how to assemble, and they didn’t want you out on the floor for the birthday party that was happening, in fear that you would mess up royally. So you just sat around trying not bother anyone, and that felt terrible. So, wandering the aisles of Cloud 9 with a full shopping trolley searching for products and neatening things up? Sounds like a good deal to you. Yes please.

“Uhh, hi.”

You practically jump entirely out of your skin, hearing the voice right beside you and whip your head around to see a balding guy in a blue Cloud 9 jacket. Is this man licking his fingers!?

“Uh,” You step back with your brightest, most polite smile, picking something up from the Go Back’s cart and rounding it to put it between you and the man, before acting like you’re stupid enough to be putting barbecue sauce in the Barbie section, and then… “Oh, oops! Silly me!” You flash the guy a nervous look. “I’m still working things out… “

Well? Better to look like an absolute idiot, then be standing within grabbing radius of the creepy man licking his fingers that you’re all alone in the middle of an empty aisle with. “Um… so, what’s up? Did someone send you to find me, or… am I doing something wrong? You know better than me, after all!”

“No… “His gaze licks up your form and if it weren’t for all your ‘training’ in staying still and not feeling this kind of thing- you absolutely would have wigged out. “You’re doing fine… Just wanted to see you.”

Boy- if anyone else could see your face right at this moment, full of disgust and mild horror, you’re sure you would be YouTubes next hit. Or a meme. “Oh… “You nervously chuckle. “Um, well, I’m gonna… go… “You pull the trolley around so that you can back up out the back of the aisle and escape through stuffed toys, into the open but his hand comes down on the other end of the trolley- stopping it. Before you can stop yourself, verbal diarrhoea spews from your lips. “Glenn has my resume- there’s a photo on there you can have.”

“That’s okay I prefer them to be breathing.” Both his hands are on the end of your trolley now, tight so his knuckles turn white, and he’s breathing unnecessarily heavy. He’s even leaning over the trolley some like his body really can’t handle whatever terrible heat is plaguing it right now. Oh god, oh god oh god oh god… this is so gross.

“Well, that’s… u-understandable...”

He looks up into your eyes, now, and doesn’t blink. Who the hell is this guy?! “Say… “ Oh no, oh no- he’s coming around the trolley-he’s coming around-he’s close-too close-too close-mayday-MAYDAY- Slowly, in your face, he licks up his thumb, makes an ‘Mm,’ sound, and you deeply wince; So much so in fact that one of your eyes completely closes. “Could I take your phone number?”

You absolutely couldn’t have helped what happened next if you had wanted to.

“Eeeeuuuwwwwwwww no not in a million years, your nasty, please leave me alone!!” You exclaim in a high voice before abandoning the trolley and rushing off to customer service.

~

“No you cant have my number,”

“Why?”

“Cuz I lost my phone.”

By the time you got to the front desk, you had basically calmed down and were mostly just stressed that you left the Go Back’s behind- but still must look troubled as the guy manning the front desk makes a confused, half-concerned but mostly intrigued kind of face at you as you stop there. You’re about to explain your appearance - that or just shrug, not too bothered about reporting whatever mess that was. Not on your first day, at least. No way. - when his face relaxes, and he nods. “Ohhh. Damn, Sal got to you?”

Sal? Was that the guy’s name? You didn’t check. “Oh, was that his name? I was a bit too preoccupied by his eyeballs sucking out my soul, to notice his name tag.” Now that you’re thinking about it, though, you glance at this man’s name tag. Garret.

“Yep, that’s Sal. That’s just one of the wonderful things involved in working here that you’ll just have to get used to.” Garret grins, offering you a chill perspective with a side of cynicism. You sigh, truly feeling relieved that you’ve found a normal person and relax your back against the taller part of the desk.

“Brilliant.” The sarcasm drips off the tip of your tongue.

“You’ll have to deal with a lotta that here, though, looking like you do.” You turn your head to the side to look already exhausted just by the idea, at him. He shrugs. “Hey, I don’t make the rules. I just speak the truth.”

“God- I feel sorry for the other women working here.”

“Oh, no. They’re in a completely different wheelhouse to you. Sorry.” Garret leans on his forearms on the desk, and you roll over to lean on your shoulder and pay attention. “See, you’re a model- “

“I was a model,”

“You were a model- which through primitive male thought process makes you prime real estate. Whoever manages to ‘bag’ you, for lack of a better word I apologise, gets some serious bragging rights.” He shrugs, and looks vaguely apologetic but still some how shameless as this utter bullshit slips out of his mouth. “We can’t help it- some of us don’t even know we’re doing that, but we are. Actually, I’m probably the only one who’ll admit it… which… kinda makes me your best option. Self-awareness, and all that.”

Oh. A dry laugh comes out of you as you feel a text come through in your back pocket and pull out your phone. As you see that its not an urgent message, you immediately put the phone back and glance around for any supervisors before returning to your conversation with Garret. “Oh- of course it does.”

“Exactly!” He grins, and you can’t tell through his expression at all whether he’s genuinely this clueless or if he’s just shooting his shot. “So- “

“No, you can’t have my number.”

“Why?”

Deadass, in a very monotone voice, you say: “I lost my phone.”

Then the two of you just have a stare off for a minute. Garret because he just saw you use your phone, and you because you wont back down.

~

“Oh yeah, actually yeah I’m, I’m pregnant. I’m having a baby in like 6 months, so no. Yeah, yeah… “

“You know,” The chemist pipes up from behind the Pharmacy desk as you put back some pill boxes he said were fine to return to the shelves, and you glance over at him to show you’re listening, and check his name tag. “I myself considered a career in modelling, before this. People even say, now, that I could model.”

Oh boy. You think, fighting not roll your eyes. And how old are you? Early 30’s? I don’t think so buddy.

“Oh, well, I wouldn’t recommend it.” You flash him a nervous grin before returning to your shelving. “You’re good for, like, 3 years. But then you hit 22 and unless you look like Victoria Justice shared with you whatever youth fountain she got chucked into, then you have to find something else to do with your life- despite having nothing to fall back on.” Okay… so… I might be a bit bitter.

Tate chuckles - and oh boy, he sounds just like your old manager. Totally fake, -, hiding his hands in his lab coat pockets. “Yeah, you’re probably right… Besides, I got the better end of the deal, anyway. Doctor for the doctors, they call us.” They call Pharmacists that? Who? That’s news to you. “Ahhh, yeah… I’m doing pretty well for myself.”

“Yep.” Forcing a fake smile his way, you leave the shelf you were stocking and get closer to the desk to stock another, as Tate’s eyes follow you waiting for encouragement of some kind. Doesn’t he have a job to do?? “You chose well!”

“Yeah, thanks. I know.” Ffffff-f a r out. This guy! “You know, you and me, we’d make a good couple.”

Oh? Dear god? You pause your shelving in surprise at the bomb this man has just dropped so casually, fish oil tablets paused on their journey to the shelf mid-air. Could Garret’s crazy-pants theory have been right?

“Ohh,” You giggle nervously, returning to work a bit faster now. “I don’t know. I think for a pharmacist like you, I would envision, like… “An actual doctor? No, I can’t say that. “A personal trainer, or something. Keep you both healthy all-round, you know? Now that’s a power team.” As long as that personal trainer has humility enough for the both of them, at least.

“Mergh,” He makes a face, like ‘What the heck are you talking about??’, before shaking his head of the things you just said and leaning over the desk towards you. You keep packing, even faster now. Like the Flash. Go! Go! Go! Death Con 5!! “So, whadaya say? I could pick you up Friday after work, and we could head up to one of my timeshares?” He says that like it’s such a selling point! You think, fighting off the powerful urge to laugh but still feeling the panic deep in the pits of your soul. “Stake it out together for the weekend? Get to know each other?”

“Uhh… “Excuses! What are they? You slowly stop stocking, turning around to face him and crossing your arms. The man deserves to at least be faced as he’s rejected; You’re kind enough to give him that, at least. “I’d love to! But, the thing is… “Chewing your bottom lip, you think hard.

Ding Ding Ding!!

“The thing is, Tate… “You fake some nerves, now. “I’m actually, uh… “You look up, face relaxing. “Pregnant.”

Oh boy, the way that man recoils at that word, like a terrified, disgruntled, blonde hedgehog. You’re going to laugh so hard about it, later!! “Oh.”

“Yeah! Oh, I mean, yeah… I’m gonna be having a baby, in like, 6 months so… yeah… Yep.“ You shrug to him, as if its just so unfortunate. “Shame.”

~

She looks in her bag, takes out a fag, tries to get away from the guy on a blag,

Can’t find a light.

‘’Here, use mine.’’

‘’See the thing is I just don’t have the time.’’

Ahh, lunch. Now you can check your texts! Hmm, you look through your notifications and gradually lose excitement. Mum… mum… mum… phone bill company… friend… mum again…

Ah, the glamorous life of the famous.

You roll your eyes, and get to responding to your mothers texts about dinner and when you’ll be home and how your first day is going, not noticing the not-so-jolly, not-so-green-(unless-you-meant-pot) giant approaching you. When you finally finish responding to both your mum and your friend, you put your phone away and start unwrapping your lunch- a typical ham sandwich that you’re actually pretty excited about. That’s one good thing about your sudden drop in financial status; You can put in your damn sandwich as many pieces of ham and cheese as you like. Grinning excitedly, you pick it up and have it halfway to your mouth before another person - a very heavy, large person, - drops down beside you on the bench you’ve commandeered behind the store. You close your mouth without any delicious lunch inside it and look up, politely to the person who’s joined you.

And all you can think, is wow.

He could put you in a suitcase and walk off with you right now and have no problems.

That’s wow.

“Hi! I’m Y/N,” You introduce yourself, offering a hand for him to shake.

“I know.” Oh, well yeah okay that’s understandable. Glenn did introduce you to everyone this morning. Despite the man’s less-then-excited response, he takes your hand in his and shakes. It makes you all giddy inside, honestly. So b i g. “Names Isaac.”

Do you remember Isaac in the breakroom this morning? You wrack your brain for him, because surely if he was there you noticed him-

Oh. Yep, you remember him. He was one of that Marcus-Dude’s pals chuckling and whispering behind him. He was one of the men that had the magazine with you on the front, and if there’s one thing you know about men who carry Vogue in their locker’s it’s that they fit into only 2 groups- interested in fashion, obviously… and interested in the women. And this man clearly is not interested in fashion. Immediately, on this realisation, you feel disappointed- you really could have liked this man right off the bat…

But it looks like he’s just going to be another of the men at this store you have to get to know, before becoming friendly with.

“So,” He starts, and you fight off a wince. Hopefully, you don’t know what’s coming. But… the likeliness of that is not high. “You wanna go out, some time? I’m a big fan of your work.” He smirks.

“Oh, ha ha.” You laugh sarcastically, shaking your head and returning to your sandwich. You take a bite and- Ahhhhhh, so worth the wait. Oh my god. Food orgasm. “At least you’re honest!”

“Yeah, so is that a yes?” His face brightens a smidgeon, which is a lot seeing as he doesn’t seem to be totally all there, in the first place.

You look up at Isaac, and look apologetic. He was honest with you so its only fair that you’re genuine with him. “Sorry… “

“Ah- actually, I don’t know if this’ll change your mind, but I have 2 weeks to live, so… “

Never mind on that honesty thing, then.

Dull-eyed, you stare up at him. “… Uh-huh.”

“Its true! I have, uh, cancer.” He insists, nodding his head and forcing his eyebrows up his forehead all serious-like.

“Cancer.” Right.

“Yep.”

Right, time to look in the bag... You start to wrap up your lunch again - sadly, as now you’ll have to wait until the end of the day and the bus ride home to eat it, - and plop it back away in your bag, getting up and pulling out a cigarette instead- that should hold you over until the end of the day. “My lunch break is actually over, so I should go- Damn, where’s my light?“

Isaac rifles through his pockets until he pulls out an old looking neon orange lighter, and offers it to you. “Here, use mine.”

Oh, no. You stare at it like a deer in headlights. If you accept that, like you really want to right now because it’s been a month since your last smoke, then you have obligations to sit with him for another couple minutes, at least.

Aghh… You groan and whine on the inside, before making up your mind and flinging the cigarette into a puddle. “See the thing is, I don’t actually have the time-”

~

“Go away now, let me go.”

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

“Ughhh… “This one has been giving you looks all day, but had no courage until now to speak to you- but the thing is? He didn’t have the smarts, either, to take off his wedding ring at least before he decided to be a bastard and bother you. So you feel absolutely no regret about being exactly as dismissive or plain rude, as you feel. “Elias? Go away now.”

The nervous man, who’s been ringing his hands this whole time and stuttering through failed date requests that you pretended you didn’t understand because of his struggle, gets panicked. “Just let me ask!- Will, will you go out with me?”

“No.” You yawn, dropping a piglet toy into a basket.

“But!- “

Turning away, you start pushing your trolley along to get to the next aisle. “Let me go.”

“We can go wherever you like!”

Sighhhhhhhhh. You turn around and grant him an audience, putting your hands on your hips and raising you brows at the wedding band on his left hand.

“Are you stupid? Or just a little slow?”

~

“Please fuck off.”

Oh good god in heaven, they’re going bigger with their proposals.

“Y/N! Will you go out with me?”

This man, Corey, has grabbed the announcement phone now that you’re walking away, making you freeze like the dad possum in Over The hedge and seriously consider playing dead, too, as you slowly turn around to look at him again.

Oh, if only looks could kill- he would be so dead that even Vlad the Impaler’s victims would laugh.

This is your first day, and the fact that you’re being harassed by multiple stupid men is bad enough but now he’s calling attention to you like this? Glenn’s going to think you’re a troublemaker!! Jesus fucking Christ- you need this job! Corey continues to talk into the speaker phone, even as he looks into your eyes and sees his death.  “And… now… you’re looking at me like that, so uh… I’m just gonna… say please?”

… “’Please’ fuck off.”

“Yes ma’am-“  

~

“Go away now, I’ve made myself clear.

I don’t think so.

Nah its not gonna happen.

Not in a million years.”

Since the run-in with Corey and the following spike in your blood pressure, you’ve calmed down again. But now you’re looking into the two faces of a ‘Mateo’, who you apparently work with, and a ‘Castor’ who does not work here and is not shopping but is still in your face and is t h i s close to feeding that ugly tie to his cousin.

But, still, you’re going to stay graceful, because Castor constantly looks like he’s 3 seconds from pooing himself. “Now please go away, now… I think I’ve made myself clear.” By explaining, politely, that you aren’t looking for a man but thank you for the offer, Castor.

“Oh, but you haven’t heard what Castor does for a living! He’s in insurance,” Mateo explains to you, like this is some huge game changer. When you don’t react, he adds that there’s good money, insurance.

You almost laugh. Does this boy really think you’re such a gold digger? Boy- if I wanted riches then I could’ve easily become a C-Class actor who has no skills in the area, but is pretty so gets praised like she does- like a lotta my model friends.

Instead I’m here, at Cloud 9.

Come to your own conclusions.

But instead of saying that, though, you just shake your head nervously. “I don’t think so… “

“But!- “

“Nah… sorry, its… not gonna happen… “

“But Castor is- “

“Not in a million years… “

~

“Aw, no. I gotta go. My house is on fire.”

Now, at least this one is respectful, you think, listening to him talk about the products you’re shelving together. He had come over and offered to give you a hand when you looked confused, as a ‘Cheyanne’ had handed you a scanner earlier and then promptly ran off, despite your utter incompetence. You were so relieved that this guy turned up!!

“… so, you just punch in reduce .50, and scan! Its pretty easy, if you have it properly explained to you. I- I was actually in the same situation, as you! When I first started here, except I ended up, uh, reducing all the items in electronics to 15 cense rather than discounting it all 15 percent.” A grin spreads across your lips at the story, and thank god that Jonah had turned up before that happened to you and, with your luck, you got fired for it.

“Oh no!”

“Yeah- Amy, our uh, floor supervisor, was pretty cranky with me about that… “He laughs himself, resting his hands on his hips; Still looking nervous at the memory.

You look back down at the scanner you’re holding and shake your head. “Well at least you know, now! And thank you so much for coming to my aid, haha. I was so lost- you’ve been a huge help! A life saver, truly.”

“Yeah… “ He gives a cute little, reserved smile. “So, uh, its basically the end of the day! Hope you’re first day hasn’t been too strenuous. At the end of my first day, I know I was tired. But I got to go out with a couple of the other employees and have a drink, to destress. If-If you were free, we could… do something. Together.” Your eyebrows slowly raise up your forehead at that, and you turn to look up Jonah, sceptical. What was that? You sure have had a long day, and its about to get a lot longer if this boy is asking what you think he is. “Sorry! Sorry, that sounded weird. Um, I guess what I’m really asking, is… would you like to, I dunno, go out with me sometime? I know some great places.”

Oh, noooooo! You cry, on the inside. You thought you found a normal one!

Still, he is being so nice… The least you could do is let him down easily.

“Oh, Jonah, I actually… oh- sorry.” Your phone beeps in your pocket and you take it out quickly to have a glance - its just your mother… again, - … and suddenly get an idea. Feigning shock, you quickly put the phone away and put down the scanner. It’s time to clock out and go home, anyway, thank god. “I have to go! That was my mum, uh- I really have to go!”

“Wow, wow, wow, what’s wrong?? Can I help with anything?”

Oh… he looks so concerned. He’s sweet.

But before you can rethink your words, this living horror slips out. “My-my house is on fire.”

Oh god, you’re a horrible person.

~

“I’ve, I’ve got herpes. No- Syphilis!”

Oh thank god the day is over. Rolling your shoulders back, you kneel down at your bottom locker, open it up and take out your bag. Now you can go home and put on Gotham on Netflix, wear no pants and eat thin mints until you fall asleep.

When you get up, you aren’t watching out for a man to be standing barely half a foot away from you - Your mistake, obviously, - so you jolt right out of your skin when you see him and curse. What is wrong with these men? Does Cloud 9 offer complimentary staff ninja classes along with their lack of health insurance? Man, classy company. “Sorry!” You look up past the coveralls after stepping a safe distance back from him, and immediately feel dread deep in your chest. “Oh, hi. Marcus, was it?”

“That’s me! How was your first day?” He asks, seeming polite enough despite the fact that you’re cornered between tall boy and the lockers. And you’re too tired to try and slip away- this boy will get out of your way.

“It was good! Thanks for asking. I’m ready to go home and collapse, though.” You admit, shoulders dropping and a tired smile on your lips. Mmm… thin mints… bed… blankets… Cory Michael Smith… I can taste it… Marcus just needs to get out of my way.

“I hear that.” Evidently not quite as deeply, though, as he moves on pretty fast. “Listen- I was thinking if you’re into it we could… go out, some time.” He tilts his head forward to clarify, “On a date,”, in case that part hadn’t translated, and chuckles. “We could see a movie or get drinks, or something, I don’t know. How about tonight?”

T-tonight? The word nearly slips from your lips; All disbelief and tears and exhaustion, included. You’re so tired. “Um… you know, tempting offer, but um… “He looks so hopeful. It nearly changes your mind. “Not tonight.”

“OH! So like, tomorrow?” Oh christ- “Cuz I’m supposed to watch Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here with my mum, but… no, I can blow that off! So, tomorrow?”

You take a deep breath, not really knowing what you can say. “Marcus… “He raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. “… I have herpes.”

“Wait, what??” He steps back, nearly tripping over a table in his fear that just being near you will cause him to contract the disease, and you let your guard down in relief. Yep, for sure, definitely. If it makes him back off, then yes- you have herpes. You have a raging, festering case of herpes.

“Yeah! Or-“ Squinting, you pretend to sift through your brain. “Was it Syphilis?” This boys eyes basically bulge out of his head and you’re totally going to laugh about it later, but right now you have to get out of there. You waive your hand dismissively and walk on by him towards the door like you don’t have a care in the world. Before you leave though, you turn around a flash Marcus a big smile. “Either way, ew, right? Well, see you tomorrow buddy! Gotta go! Enjoy I’m A Celebrity with your mum.” Then you’re gone.

Tomorrow is going to be a much better day, once that rumour is properly spread.

#Superstore Oneshot #Superstore #Oneshot #Superstore x Reader #Superstore Males x Reader #Fem Reader #Model Reader #Glenn Sturgis #Dina Foxx #Superstore Glenn #Superstore Dina #Marcus White #Superstore Marcus #Superstore Sal #Sal Kazlauskas #Garret McNeil #Superstore Garret #Tate Staskiewicz #Superstore Tate #Superstore Isaac #Superstore Elias #Elias Greene #Superstore Corey #Superstore Castor #Superstore Jonah #Jonah Simms #Marcus White x Reader #Garret McNeil x Reader #Tate Staskiewicz x Reader #Superstore Isaac x Reader

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

as i have previously mentioned, i have spent some time on tma twitter, gathering knowledge, appreciating art and memes, sighing copiously at replies, choking at tweet threads, and all around having a horrible but no doubt addicting time. like slow car crash addicting. but anyway.

what i have learned is this! people have vastly differing but aligned opinions about one elias bitchard, such that they seem to fall on a slider scale almost. and so here i present them to you as i have encountered them in the wild (none of which reflect my own opinion, save for the first of them):

i hate his bitch ass but mostly ironically/as a joke because it's fun to hate him and he deserves it for being such an evil stupid bastard and hurting x character(s), but that's about it. it's not super deep mostly i just like dunking on him

i unironically fucking hate his guts if i met him irl i'd rip his throat out with my bare hands. what a disgusting wretch of a man, just listening to him speak gives me hives. everything about him is Gross, don't even talk to me about him i'll go feral

angrier, more rigid subset of the previous: i unironically hate elias bouchard and do not understand how any of you freaks can possibly stand this evil, abusive, digusting barely human being and then further still wanna fuck him/ship other characters with him, he's not sexy and never has been shut the fuck up

he's uninteresting and boring to me and i don't see why y'all love to talk about him so much tbh :/ subpar villain bitch at best, i barely like him as a character let alone a person. find someone more interesting to talk about, there's a whole assortment

hypothetical indifferent neutral space that i've yet to encounter in actuality, this mf is polarizing lmao even at ppl's least interested attitudes towards him

actually no i lied true neutral is not giving a shit about jonah magnus and instead stanning and pondering about the life of the original weedman bouchard, whoever he may have been. rip the poor poor man he probably didn't deserve to have his eyeballs scooped like an ice cream cone

elias is is such an interesting and complex character to me and i enjoy writing/drawing/talking about him because alongside his general reprehensible and horribly evil qualities as a person he's such a powerful and cunning character. but at his core he's really just pathetic old man who's scared to die and is searching for the power to dominate and manipulate others and extend his existence by any means necessary before his clock runs out. and i think that's both horrible and fascinating.

i ironically love elias/am stupid horny for him because i think running after this nasty literally evil man with high maintenance bitch energy is hilarious and certain art of him really just hits sometimes man, idk lol being/fucking an evil mf can be fun (also making the rest of the fandom keyboard smash at our memes is a plus)

i 100% unironically love/am horny for elias because evil bastard man is just sexy sometimes what do you want me to say? have you heard his voice? would you begrudge me my horrible taste in men? elias dickchard never did anything good for anyone but himself ever in his entire life and i love him for it, good on him for conquering the world to swerve on death, what an inspiration, i love him and wish him the best

bizarre yet interesting subset of the previous that i have only encountered one (1) time, but it impressed itself so strongly i must share: i don't care what happens to jon or martin. i mean that, honest. i'm happy for elias, marvelous worlding ending bastard he is. i hope he wins. no i am not joking. some of y'all are here only for the admiral? i'm only here for elias. god bless.

pls tag urself i'm 'mostly i just like dunking on him'

#tma #jonah magnus #elias bouchard #the magnus archives #the magnus pod #magnus archives #magnuspod #the amount of Emotion some ppl be feelin over it #i vibe w the ironic crowd lol i cant take anything serious #im here for the memes #and the og weedman bouchard of course rest his poor pothead soul #tma spoilers #my text post

[cristinablackthornkingson]

This Poor Unruly Heart.  A Thomastair fic.

Cross-posted to my AO3. 

***TW/CW**** Alcoholism. Homophobia. Homophobic slurs. (Shortened version of the F slur is used) Emotional abuse. Abusive parent. Abusive relationships. Mention of child loss.

It is a cold Winter’s day in late 1903, when both Alastair Carstairs and Thomas Lightwood, make the most terrifying and nerve wracking decision of their lives. After 3 months of being with each other they have decided to hide no longer, and come out to their parents.

Out of the two of them, Alastair is certainly most terrified, for so long Charles made him believe that he would always have to live in secret, he manipulated and twisted him into believing that everyone would be disgusted and hate him. Alastair knows his mother is a very traditional woman, and throughout his childhood he has heard his father throw around slurs and nasty words about people like Alastair.

However Alastair does not want to hide anymore, like he had to with Charles, he loves Thomas and wants everyone to know that, no matter what. With Elias still being in Idris for another day or so, Alastair will have a chance to speak with him privately, if all goes well with telling his mother.

Cordelia has known that Alastair is gay for a while now, she was the first person he came out to, and has been nothing but loving and supportive toward him, when he told her his plans to come out to their parents, she offered to be there for moral support. Alastair happily agreed, glad to have her to lean on.

So now he has found himself in the drawing room of Cirenworth, sitting on the couch next to Cordelia, across from their mother, who at 7 months pregnant looks more stressed, tired and ill than Alastair has ever seen her. He’s terrified of stressing her out and worrying her further, afraid of hurting her or the baby, but he refuses to have his baby brother or sister born into a world where their big brother is hiding a big part of who he is. If the baby is like Alastair, he wants them to have a good influence, someone to look up to and admire, like he has always secretly admired Anna.

“What trouble have you two gotten into now?” Sona’s tired but amused voice pulls Alastair from his thoughts. He smiles and lets out a breathy laugh, his poor mother having to deal with everything he and Cordelia and their friends got up to recently, hopefully the baby won’t be such a handful when they grow up.

“No mamán, we haven’t done anything, I... I need to speak with you about something, something I... discovered about myself.” Aalstair chooses his words carefully, trying not to fidget or let his nerves overtake him.

“Alright, what is it?” Sona asks, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands over her bump. Alastair gives Cordelia a brief glance and she smiles and slips her hand into his and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

Alastair holds tightly to Cordelia and takes a deep breath. He then looks straight at his mother, and calmly says

“I’m gay, I’m attracted to men, and I’ve been seeing someone, a man. Thomas Lightwood to be exact. We’ve been seeing eachother for a few months now and I wanted to finally tell you mamán, because it is a big part of me and my life.”

Sona leans forward in her chair and takes Alastair’s free hand in hers.

“Are you happy?” She calmly asks. Alastair wordlessly nods, not daring to get his hopes up. “And this Lightwood boy, does he make you happy, does he treat you well?”

“Yes.” Alastair says in a breathy tone. “I... I love him, mamán, he is the best thing that has ever happened to me, I have never been happier than I have been since I began seeing Thomas. He... he makes me feel so loved and important.”

Sona smiles warmly and brushes her son’s dark hair back from his face.

“Then if you are happy, I’m happy.” Alastair feels the tears of relief and joy well up in his eyes as his breath catches in his throat.

“R-really?” He stammers. Sona nods and brushes his tears away.

“Yes Eshgham, all I want for you, Cordelia and this baby, is for you to be happy and healthy. Nothing and no one matters more to me than you 3, and a little thing like the sex of the person you love, is not going to make a difference to how much I love you, Alastair.” Sona’s voice is soft and low, full of love but also firm, so Alastair knows how serious she is.

Alastair lets out a sob of relief and lets his head fall onto his mother’s shoulder, as her arms go around him, her hand running through his hair, while Cordelia rubs his back.

“I love you mamán.” Alastair sniffs. Sona presses a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you too Alastair joon, very much. I do want to meet this Thomas boy of course, to make sure he’s deserving of you, not just anyone is worthy of being loved by my son, you know.” Sona lightly says, as Alastair lifts his head and wipes at his tears. He laughs at the thought of tall, muscular Thomas being lectured by his small, heavily pregnant mother.

“He is James’ cousin, so I think you will like him very much.” Alastair laughs, knowing how much his mother adores James.

“Like who very much?” The sweet and happy moment is suddenly interrupted by a gruff voice from the doorway that makes the blood in Alastair’s veins run cold. He turns his head to see his father standing in the doorway, dressed smartly but with his hair greasy and ratty, months worth of stubble on his jaw, his eyes bloodshot with dark circles underneath them, and a poorly hidden bottle of whisky poking out of his coat pocket.

“Oh Elias, we weren’t expecting you back for another day or so.” Sona says in a somewhat surprised tone, pushing herself to her feet to greet her husband, going in for a kiss to the cheek but recoiling when she smells the alcohol on him.

Elias completely ignores his wife, focusing all of his attention on Alastair.

“Who and what were you talking about? It seems like you were in the middle of a rather serious moment.” He asks in a deadly calm voice.

“Papa not now, Alastair is tired.” Cordelia protests, wanting to do whatever she can to save her brother having to face their father unplanned like this.

“I was not speaking to you Cordelia, I was speaking to your brother. I will ask again, who and what were you talking about? If you told your mother, you need to tell me.” there is now anger and irritation seeping into Elias’ tone.

“I...” Alastair begins, not quiet sure where to go with this. “Um, well I...”

“Have you hit your head or are you honestly as dense as I always knew?” Elias spits out in acidic tone, horrifying everyone in the room. It’s not the first time he’s spoken so cruelly to Alastair, though he’s never done so in front of anyone else before.

“Papa!” Cordelia protests.

“Be quiet Cordelia. You, get on with it.” He growls, glaring at Alastair.

“I’m gay!” Alastair blurts, cringing at how abrupt and sudden it was.

Elias scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous Alastair, you are far too young to know who you do and do not love, not that it is love, homosexuality is a disease, an illness of the mind.” He tells him in a dismissive tone. Alastair feels as though his heart may break in half. Nobody has ever said something so cruel to him before.

“No it is not, the love I feel for Thomas is just the same as any other type of love. He makes me happy and treats me well, I love him, it is one of the very few things in life I have ever been so certain of. I love him, father.” Alastair’s tone is tight as tears start to well up again, but there is also pride in his tone, and love at the thought of Thomas.

Before Alastair can comprehend anything else, his father is right in front of him, face to face, so close Alastair can smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.

“Elias let him go!” Sona yells, tugging at her husband’s arm, only to have him shake her off.

“No mamán don’t, you may get hurt, you or the baby.” Alastair tells her, holding his chin high and refusing to show his father any fear.

“Now you listen here boy.” Elias hisses. “No son of mine is going to be some disgusting fag, I will not have you taint the good family name of Carstairs. You are not irreplaceable, that child your mother carries could well be a boy, I could very easily replace you with him. And if you wish to have a place under my roof, you will shut your disgusting little mouth and never speak of this filth again!”

“Papa! Don’t speak to him like that, leave him alone!” Cordelia yells, trying to pull her father away, only for him to push her back, almost knocking her over.

Alastair has never been a violent man, despite his nasty attitude when he was younger, he would actually never harm a fly. However this time, Elias his gone too far. Alastair firmly places his hands on his father’s chest and with force, shoves him away so he is not in his face.

Alastair is about to respond, to tell Elias he’s free to replace him with the new baby, but Sona speaks up first.

“That is enough!” Her strong and firm tone rings clear through the room, stopping everyone and everything in their tracks.

“Elias Carstairs if you so much as ever lay a hand on my son again, I swear to the angel you will be sorry. You need to get off of your pedestal, you are not some all high and mighty holier than though member of society, you are a nasty, abusive man who refuses to get help for an addiction that has ruined everything. You ruined Alastair’s childhood with your alcoholism, I am not about to let you ruin the rest of his life with your homophobia.

I have put up with your nasty and abusive ways for the last 18 years, I have dealt with you calling me fat, lazy, useless, ugly, and many, many other things. I am done with it, no more. I took your abuse with the hope you would leave Cordelia and Alastair alone, and they could have nice normal lives. That is not how it works though, I know better now. I deserve better, my children deserve better.

I want a divorce, Elias, and I will be making sure you have no custody or involvement of this baby, as far as I am concerned this child is mine and mine alone, they have no father.”

There is a shocked silence throughout the room, following Sona’s pronouncement. Alastair feels guilty for feeling happy that his mother is leaving his father, and hopeful that he can escape him. He’s not meant to want his parents to split up, being the child of a divorced couple is shameful according to society. But why? Why is it shameful for Sona to escape her abuser, to give her baby a better chance at life and to take Cordelia and Alastair away from a toxic and abusive person?

The first to speak is Elias. He scoffs and sneers at his wife.

“Oh please, you need me Sona, you have nowhere to go and nothing without me.”

“I will go to The Institute, The Herondales will welcome me. I have plenty, Elias, I have savings you know nothing of, I have valuables I can sell should I need to, I have clothes for the baby, nappies are not hard to come by, I have everything I need, I most certainly do not need you.” Sona’s tone is impassive as she steadily holds Elias’ gaze. She then turns to her children, her gaze softening slightly.

“Alastair, Cordelia, you are of course welcome to come with me, wherever I find a home you will have a home, but if you wish to stay with your father then I will not be hurt or upset, and you will still be able to see your little brother or sister when they are born. The choice is yours.” Of course Sona wants her children to come with her, but she knows forcing them to if they do not want to, will not make her any better than Elias.

“I want to go with you mamán.” Cordelia immediately says, the love and respect she has always held for her father now shattered into pieces, never to be repaired.

“Me too, and I can help you with money mamán, now that I am old enough to receive earnings from The Clave.” Alastair says, leaning into his mother, who smiles and cups his cheek.

“Thank you Azizam, but you most certainly do not have to.” She then links her arm through with his and puts the other around Cordelia’s shoulders. “Come along, we can come back for our things later. For now I would like to meet your Thomas, Alastair. I am sure he’s a good boy if he’s related to James, but I need to be sure, as I said, not just anyone is deserving of my son’s heart.”

Alastair smiles brightly, his heart lifting and his pain easing at the thought of introducing his mother to Thomas, and having a peaceful and calm life at The Institute, where he will be free to love Thomas and be himself.

Meanwhile, in the Lightwood London townhouse, Thomas is nervously sitting in front of his parents in the drawing room, preparing to come out to them. He is sure they’ll be loving and accepting, they love and accept Anna, but maybe it will be different with their own child, especially their only son. Perhaps his father expects him to carry on the Lightwood name, what with Christopher having no interest in romance or anything of the sort, and little Alex only being 3.

“What’s going on Tommy? What do you need to talk to us about?” Sophie’s concerned voice pulls Thomas from his thoughts, and he lifts his head to look at his parents, sitting side by side, their hands entwined, both of them looking concerned.

“Uhh...” Thomas begins in an unsure tone. “Well... I’m... I’m gay.” Thomas blurts out, wanting it over and done with, holding his breath as he waits for his parents to react.

Immediately they both visibly relax, Gideon’s shoulders slumping in relief and Sophie placing a hand on her chest and letting out a sigh of relief.

“Oh love is that all?” Sophie asks with a hint of amusement in her tone. Baffled, Thomas nods.

“You gave us a fright Tom, we thought something was dreadfully wrong.” Gideon laughs, relieved beyond words that all is well with Thomas. He could not lose another child, Barbara’s death almost killed him, loosing Thomas or Eugenia would certainly be the end of him.

“We’ve always known that about you my darling, do you think we haven’t noticed you gawping at all the handsome men we pass on the street, or how you just loved hearing about your sisters' courting conquests and always asked for details on the men?” Sophie laughs, remembering 11 year old Thomas sitting with his sisters and listening intently as Barbara recounted her first outing with her first boyfriend.

“It... it doesn’t bother you?” Thomas asks in a hopeful tone. Could it really be this simple and easy? Could he be so lucky?

“Not one bit.” Sophie assures him.

“Just don’t steal Eugenia’s dresses if you want to wear women’s clothes, she loves you but she will not be pleased if you steal her dresses.” Gideon says in a light tone, earning a laugh from Thomas.

“I would not dare get between Genie and her dresses, though I have no desire to wear one myself, they seem rather uncomfortable.” He says.

“You do not know the half of it my love.” Sophie laughs, squeezing Thomas’ hand. “Is there anything else you wish to tell us? Remember, we’ll always love you and support you.”

Thomas bites his lip and takes a few seconds to think, before looking at his parents again.

“Well... actually, I am seeing someone. Alastair Carstairs to be exact.” Thomas nervously admits.

“Oh he is a lovely boy! Good to know your good sense continues through to the romantic aspect of your life.” Sophie grins, shocking Thomas.

“You like him? But mama he was the one who spread those nasty rumors about you a few years ago.” Thomas quietly says. He knows Alastair has changed and grown since then, but does his mother?

“He was a child, a scared child who was going through a lot of trauma, he made a mistake for which he is clearly very sorry. And besides I think it is quiet obvious that he at 16 did not just suddenly decide to spread rumors about strange adults who had nothing to do with him. I would not be surprised in the least if he was repeating what he heard from his father.” Sophie quietly says, trying not to let her anger escape. She is not angry with Alastair, but she is angry with Elias, who has said very unkind things about her before, some to her face and some behind her back.

Before Thomas can reply, there is a rap on the dinning room door and Scarlet- the Lightwood’s maid- steps in.

“Sorry to interrupt M’am, Sirs, there are guests here to see you, Mrs. Carstairs and her two children.” Scarlet quietly says. Thomas’ heart begins to race. Why is Alastair here? Is he alright?

“Oh, please do send them through Scarlet, thank you.” Sophie says, wondering why the Carstairs’ have turned up here. It’s not as if they are very close friends or anything of the sort.

A few seconds later Sona Carstairs steps into the drawing room, followed closely by Cordelia and Alastair.

“I am very sorry to intrude and interrupt, we can leave if we are inconveniencing you.” Sona says in an apologetic tone.

“No no nonsense, you are very welcome. Please, sit. Would you like something to drink or eat? Would you like to put your feet up, Sona?” Sophie kindly asks, remembering how easily her feet swelled up when she was pregnant all 3 times, by the time she was 7 months pregnant with Barbara she couldn’t fit into her shoes anymore and had to buy new ones specifically for pregnancy.

“Thank you, you are very kind but a simple seat will do, I get so tired so easily these days.” Sona says in a breathy tone, as Cordelia helps her sit in a nearby armchair.

Thomas and Alastair, meanwhile, share a delighted look at seeing one another. Thomas grins and quickly strides across the room and slips his hand into Alastair's.

“Mama, papa, this is Alastair, my boyfriend.” He proudly says, grinning at his parents.

Sophie immediately joins them and pulls Alastair into a hug, taking him by complete surprise.

“Don’t break his heart, alright?” Sophie softly says when she pulls back, placing a hand on Alastair’s cheek. Alastair smiles and nods.

“I promise, Mrs. Lightwood.”

Sophie smiles and squeezes his hand before stepping back to let Gideon talk to Alastair.

“Our Thomas is a sweet boy, with so much capacity to love. I’m sure you already know this but it is an honor to be loved by him in anyway. Never forget that, alright?” Alastair nods.

“Of course not Mr. Lightwood.” He assures him. Gideon smiles and holds his hand out for Alastair to shake.

“Good, and if you ever need some fatherly advice or a man to man talk, I am always here.” The offer almost makes Alastair tear up again.

“Thank you Mr. Lightwood, I very much appreciate that.”

“Now you just have to meet Genie, I think she will like you too.” Thomas lightly says, laying his head on Alastair’s shoulder. Alastair chuckles and puts an arm around his boyfriend.

“Well now it is my turn to introduce you to my family. You already know Layla, but you haven’t met my wonderful mother yet. Mamán this is Thomas, my boyfriend.”

With help from Cordelia Sona stands up from her chair and beams brightly at Thomas. She pulls him down for a hug and squeezes tightly.

“It is so lovely to meet the boy who has made my Alastair happy again. Treat him well.”

Over the next few months the Lightwoods and Carstairs grow very close. Gideon helps Sona begin proceedings for her divorce and also helps her make a case against Elias having any custody of the baby. They have plenty of evidence of him being an unfit parent and a danger to the baby, so it only takes a matter of weeks for it be agreed upon by The Silent Brothers and The Clave that Elias has no legal rights to the baby and will not be allowed around them at all.

Sophie helps Sona through the rest of her difficult pregnancy, having had a hard pregnancy herself, with Thomas.

Thomas and Alastair grow closer and fall even more in love, and Cordelia finds a new friend in Eugenia.

2 months later on a rainy February day, Cordelia, Alastair, Thomas and Eugenia are all nervously waiting outside the Institute infirmary, waiting for word on Sona who went into labor in the early hours of the morning. Brother Zachariah came right away, and has been doing a wonderful job of helping Sona through her labor while also keeping everyone else updated.

8 hours after Sona went into labor, the silence of the infirmary waiting room is interrupted by the squeaking of the infirmary door opening.

The 4 teenagers turn to look at the doorway, where Brother Zachariah now stands, his hood drawn back and his hands folded neatly in front of him.

“Uncle Jem.” Cordelia leans forward, eager to hear what he has to say. “Is mama alright, and the baby?”

Yes everything is absolutely fine Cordelia. In fact, you have a healthy baby brother, congratulations.

Cordelia gasps and shrieks in delight, turning to hug Alastair tightly.

“A boy! It’s a boy Al, we have a baby brother!” She gleefully exclaims. Alastair laughs in delight and holds his sister tight, picking her up and spinning her around twice, unable to contain his utter glee and delight. His mother is alright, his baby brother is alright, everything is alright.

“Two against one! You are done for, Layla!” Alastair teases, setting his sister down and affectionately tugging at a lock of her hair. Cordelia laughs and playfully swats him on the arm.

“Not a chance! I’m going to go hold him first!” she quickly turns on her heel and hurries into the infirmary after Jem.

“I always wanted a little brother, I’m quiet envious!” Thomas lightly says, slipping an arm around Alastair’s waist. “I am very happy for you.” Alastair beams at his boyfriend and kisses him.

“I love you.”

"I love you too."

#thomas lightwood #alastair carstairs #Cordelia Carstairs #sona carstairs #elias carstairs #gideon lightwood #sophie collins #sophie lightwood #anna lightwood #james herondale #will herondale #william herondale #tessa gray #tessa herondale #christopher lightwood #alexander lightwood #the silent brothers #Brother Zachariah #jem carstairs #james carstairs #charles fairchild #eugenia lightwood #barbara lightwood #thomas x alastair #alastair x charles #SophiexGideon #the infernal devices #the last hours #the shadowhunter chronicles #tsc

[afraid-of-americans]

Cursed Predictive Text Keyboard Part 3

David Bowie used music as a way to escape the asylum (Wait... Huh?)

Mick Ronson is a very sexy grandpa (I- Okay..)

Mick Jagger already made me feel like I have some questions about the reproductive system (Ew wot?)

Keith Richards is going to eat your grandma (NUUU!)

Brian Jones has a bit of a problem with DANA (Why does he have a problem with DANA!?)

Charlie Watts just wants to go home (Please! Take him home! 😭)

Ronnie wood is a very beautiful woman (Oh 😳)

Mick Taylor was a bit sweaty and his cheeks were slightly red (Wait... Wot was he doing?)

Bill Wyman is my absolute biggest concern for a divorce (Huh?)

Freddie Mercury can kick your ass down! (Oh Jesus!)

Roger Taylor released a video showing us something fun (I wonder wot it is)

Brian May is a very sexy tiger 🐅 (Wot the fuck?)

John Deacon is uwu but I was just playing with my cars (huh?)

Robert Plant has more boobies than you (that's true)

Jonesy I don't think you can dance with the kids (Wot?)

Bonzo and the other hoes are doing a little persuasive arguments (Wot the fuck?)

Jimmy Page is NASTY asf man 😤 (That is indeed true)

Rod Stewart is a very sexy idol to have (lolz do ya think I'm sexy?)

Mark Slaughter walked in the bathroom Just to give a speech on why my pants are gone (wot? are you talking about?)

Dana Strum was just an experiment (wtf? lolz)

Blas Elias was around the corner with his pants down (ksjsksksjsjs)

Tim Kelly said that he wants to get really funky with Mick Jagger's feets (that is disgusting)

Roger Daltrey is going to have a great time with monkeys (oo oo aa aa!!)

Keith Moon was in the shower with his underwear out (hold on-- huh?)

Pete Townshed is so rude and I had enough of his family (great?)

David Lee Roth said that he wants to get a hold of my penis (i-....)

Eddie Van Halen was often seen as a bit of a bitch to the person who is a member of the rolling stones (wait! who!?)

#these are cursed #david bowie #the rolling stones #led zeppelin #queen #van halen #slaughter band #mick ronson #cursed post

[hypnomencien]

I am doing this kind of Dnd/Warhammer game while my players are in a state of hypnosis. I decided to right about the adventure in the game. There will be kinky and sexual content in the next chapter. A big thanks to Kim helping me since English is not my first language. Elia was woken up by the sounds of the patrons on the next floor down. Her mind was clouded by sleep and she was nursing a hangover.  Elia did not yet realize where she was.  She grabbed what she did recognize as an almost empty bottle of wine and promptly polished it off. She spotted the mirror and the antique dressers from the night before. Elia began to remember having rented a room at the Bronze Buck Inn.  She slipped out of bed in the clothes she wore the night before. She took a quick sniff at herself to determine her level of hygiene and gagged. She was more than overdue for a bath. Items from the guests last night lay strewn on the ground, masterless. A lonely boot and glove did look familiar. Could it belong to the bard she met yesterday? Elia's head began to spin. It didn't really matter.

 Elia stumbled over to the wash bin. To her delight, the water was still warm. She was not able to relax much, the water cooled down too quickly.  Despite her time in the bath being cut short, she felt clean. She dressed herself and equipped her two daggers, her stomach growling. The prospect of food made her salivate and the smell of it pushed her down the stairs. The owner of the establishment, a squat dwarf by the name of Ergald Bluntguard sat at the bar. 

He grined slyly, "Rough night?" he asked teasingly.  

Elia took a seat, determined to get some food in her stomach before she set off promptly. She glared, wondering who talked to others this early. Breakfast was served without her even needing to ask. Eggs and salted pork, served with a creamy ale. "The good stuff," she thought as she took a gulp.  Ignoring her presence, Ergald went back to rambling about the excellence of his dwarven beer. When offered a tester cup, Elia politely declined the sample very well knowing she could not handle that particular strength of brew this morning. Her stomach churned at the thought. 

His boasting became like white noise as she finished up her breakfast

"Oh Elia! Almost forgot! Three nasty type folks came lookin' fer yeh this morn. I reckon they were not lookin' to give yeh flowers." Ergald had taken her out of her thoughts. She shrugged, keeping her composure. Her mind on the other hand, was racing. What kind of trouble had she gotten into now. These long nights sometimes ended with a couple of people wanting to settle a debt with her, but what had happened this time? She did not know. After poking and prodding Ergald's brain for more information, she decided to hit the town, conveniently going in the opposite direction that the men had went.

The downtown market was hustling and bustling. With so many people to eavesdrop on, finding out more information should be a breeze. 

A wife and her husband shopped, "There was an attack outside of Nightguard. No one knows what happened..." the man shook his head, cursing the town guards for being so ineffective. 

Elia slipped past the couple, missing the end of their conversation on the matter. She settled down near two street entertainers. After collecting some coins from passers by, they discussed the latest on-goings around town.

"I heard there's a cult"

"Yeah we know. There's more than one friend."

"No you goof, a new cult. Exclusive it is. Only nobles and merchants can join."

"The rich! Pah! Always be having fun leaving us to fend for ourselves."

"Bastards are called The Prince of Purple light. Self discovery and happiness is their goal."

"Bunch of fancy pants I bet you."

Elia snuck away, having received the information she was looking for. Sounded like an interesting place to cause a ruckus... From the corner of her eye, Elia spotted a man that appeared to be following her. She knew better than to go back to the tavern now. Elia discreetly drew one of her daggers and hid it up her sleeve. The goon was closing in on her. Would she turn back and run past him? Or go down the eerie alley? Her options were few. She chose to rush towards the thug, attempting to slip by between his legs. In simultaneous surprise, the duo tripped each other and Elia's face stamped itself onto the thug's crotch. She looked up tentatively with an awkward smile. He met her gaze with fierce eyes. Fierce, but not hostile. The ground disappeared under her momentarily as he picked her up by the shoulder. 

"Rob is looking for you Elia."

Trying to look calm and unimpressed, she rolled her eyes. But she knew exactly who he was talking about. Rob. Rob The Weasel. Rob the dirty, sneaky and deadly weasel. Leader of the local thieves guild. Elia had completed a few contracts for him in the past. 

Still being held in the thug's grip, she nodded, "Yeah Yeah absolutely! Absolutely. Let me just go back to the Bronze buck to grab a few necessities I will go directly to him." said Elia. 

"No I don't think that will be possible. We. Are. Going. Now." The intensity with which those words were said extinguished her hopes of a quick getaway. A part of her was growing more and more curious as time passed. What on earth would The Weasel want with her anyways? 

A firm hand remaining on her shoulder, she moved forwards towards the Guild's HQ. Straight to The Weasel's office they went, and there he sat. Rob was a wiry man, with a cunning face and inquisitive eyes. The nickname Weasel suited him perfectly. He was a leader in every way. Charismatic, intense and clever. He greeted her in his usual fashion. Elia let out a sigh of relief. 

"Elia! Elia, Elia... Elia. You don't write, you don't visit. And my oh my, you're so elusive that I must send my best men to fetch you for a simple chat. I must say, I'm hurt." Rob frowned.

 "Well I came as soon as I heard you were looking for me" explained Elia, matter of factly.  

"Of course you did." Rob smiled comfortingly, but his eyes remained cold and serious. "Well enough banter, I have a job for you. I'm sure a fine rogue like you has heard of the Cult of the Purple Light by now. They aren't concealing their activities very well."

She nodded once, "Yes, I have caught wind of their activities."

"Excellent. I do not know how much you have heard, but... on their altar sits this marvelous purple gem. I already have a buyer lined up for the piece. They are willing to pay their weight in gold to catch as much as a glimpse of its beauty. Of course he will pay twice that for full ownership of it." He looked at her intensely. She knew that if she chose to accept this mission, there was no margin of error. She mustn't fail. 

She snapped out of her thoughts as he went on , "And of course... using my own men isn't quite an option. Everyone knows they work for me and those fanatics would be the end of me."

"Sounds dangerous. It will cost you a pretty penny to hire me..."

"Of course! Of course!" Rob looked overly offended. How could she even think he would be cheap with her? "I would reward you handsomely, of course. Some even in advance, to help you prepare for their next event. A masked ball. While you don't come off to me as... the classiest lady I've ever met, I'm sure you will be more successful in this mission then my men would be."

Elia glared at him and crossed her arms.. "If you're done insulting me now, I'd appreciate more information on the task at hand. I'll do it."

He grinned, his smile looking slimy but genuine, "Excellent. I knew I could count on you and your greed." He undressed her with his eyes and licked his lips, "Yes. You will do perfectly. You will fit in a crowd of nobles with the right outfit I'm sure. Do not forget to wear a mask to cover your... beautiful face"

Disgusted, she held her hand out, demanding her early payment so she could get out of here sooner than later. The thug that had dragged her to the Thieves Guild came out of the shadows of Rob's office to drop a heavy sack of coins in the palm of her hand. 

"Consider it done." She nodded and left.

Once out of the HQ, she smiled and patted herself on the back. The negotiation went better than she had expected, and those Purple cultists had peeked her curiosity. The sack of coins weighed heavily in her pocket but she knew some of it would go towards buying a gown and a mask for the evenings events. After an afternoon spent trying on multiple dresses and masks, she found one that would easily trick anyone into believing her disguise as a Dutchess. Ladylikeness or not. She went back to her room at the Bronze Buck to prepare, slipping a few coins to Ergald with simple instructions to have a cart ready for tonight. After what seemed like ages, she was ready. Dressed up, pampered and pretty, with her dagger strapped to her thigh. Elia cloaked herself to conceal the gown and took her leave riding in the cart that was prepared for her.                                                                                          

[thecraftgremlin]

Also I love how Jon was like “yes it is” when Martin said that feeling Elias in the panopticon was gross. It’s just a metaphor for how his powers work but Elias is a disgusting little man and being able to sense him at all is nasty.

#the magnus archives #tma spoilers #jonelias magchard and his rancid vibes

[fmab]

I saw the most disgusting post the other day about how obviously everyone in tma is thirsty for martin (even going so far as to say a character they said they hc’d as a lesbian makes an exception for martin), Including all the nasty old dudes (Elias, P*ter, Simon) and how its funny that theyre all gonna have to fight eachother for a chance at “hitting that” like................... 😐ok... “Lol heres a gay man who is minding his own business and trying to live his life but is being manipulated by people and constantly in harms way from these various avatars! omg and heres several people who actively want to bring harm to him and make him uncomfortable! Its SOOOO funny that all of these people are OBVIOUSLY SO HORNY for Martin, its hilarious! They want to abuse, isolate, put him out of his comfort zone, and use him, but its just fine and its funny because obviously they want to fuck him!” This is what these fucking people sound like.

I’m just really mad abt how they fucking treat him like a piece of meat. like a fucking object. It’s real telling which fucking people are “ex” fujoshis 

#venus.txt #i said all this in my server yesterday #but i wanted to post it to make my stance clear #abuse // #ask to tag // #elias // for blacklist

[fuckelias]

decided on writing w/e i wanted in order to get back in the swing of things. note that the reader character here is more of an oc of mine but i like writing in the second person well enough so i kept it. could potentially expand this to a full fic but just throwing it out here!!

“Oh, darling, I’m not mad at you.”

He looks at you with pity and you hate that look. You despise being pitied. You don’t need to be pitied, especially not by him. You look closer and see there’s a hint of fondness shining there and that disgusts you even more. You can’t look at him so you look at your shoes. They’re very dirty, covered in mud and dirt and other things that you don’t want to think about. You must smell horrible.

“Elias, I killed a man in your house,” you inform him, as if he could miss all the blood and the guts and the remains strewn about. There really isn’t anything there that could be considered a body. Not anymore. Not after you were done with it.

You can sense the unease in his awkward inhalation, in the brief pause before he speaks. You know him well enough, at this point, this long into your unlikely friendship. He is disturbed but good at keeping his composure. You have done something that has unsettled him for once. He can know things, sure, can know anything he wants, but you’ve always been unpredictable, at least as far as your violent tendencies go. 

You think that’s what he likes about you, the potential for violence that exists underneath your calm facade. He seems able to see it more clearly than anyone else can. Maybe he’s in need of surprises sometimes, of things he can’t possibly know for certain. At the very least, you don’t think he could have ever predicted coming home to this.

“It certainty proves inconvenient,” he acknowledges after only the briefest pause. He navigates his way around the scene before him, but the carnage is all encompassing. The blood is unavoidable, and his expensive shoes are stained with the barest hints of crimson. He plugs his nose as he goes to stand by you, but halts an arms length away. You can tell he wants you to face him, to acknowledge his presence and to look into his eyes but you don’t think you can. You again turn to stare at your shoes, try to focus on how muddy and dirty they are but inevitably your vision expands in order to drink in the rest of the scene. 

You’re in the middle of it all. There’s a pool of blood, and something is dripping somewhere, the sounds of the trickle proving to be slow and persistent. You can’t smell anything except for the raw scent of blood that permeates the air. It’s a heavy fragrance. You enjoy it, but clearly Elias does not share your appreciation of the slaughter.

He waits for you by the edge of it, finger pinching his nostrils shut as he beholds the sight of you surrounded by so much blood and guts and other mutilated parts of what was once a human body. His gaze is surprisingly unfocused even as you meet his eyes. He might be scared, but you don’t dare presume as much. Any sane person would be scared in this scenario, after all.

You drop the knife you didn’t realize you were holding. It resounds with an odd mix between a clatter and a splash as it sinks into the blood bath before hitting the blood-covered boards below. Your hands are filthy. Dirty, just like the rest of you. Your long pianist’s fingers are stained the worst of all, caked in dark red blood. You try not to think about what awaits under your fingernails, but you know there’s no doubt hair and bits and pieces of skin along with more blood. There’s so much blood in the human body. Maybe that’s why Elias appears so surprised.

Chunks of flesh swim in the bloody pool. It’s deeper than you thought. There’s so much slaughter. Strips of fabric, what were once clothes, torn to shreds by your frenzy. You’re not sure what bit of an organ floats by. All of the pieces are indistinguishable from any component that makes up a human body. It’s an odd sort of stew, full of mystery meat. You wonder if Elias wants a taste, and the prospect of conveying that thought to him makes you laugh.

You can’t stop the laughter. It shakes your entire body, deep belly laughs that wrack your entire body. Hysterical, horrid laughter, high-pitched and eerie. It’s only now that Elias looks the slightest bit afraid. The fingers pressed against his nostrils have dropped, and he’s trying to look serious. It’s comical, really, how he tries to appear formal and unaffected and aloof with a pool of blood lapping at his feet. He’s right on the edge of it, not daring to step any closer. Still, his shoes are irrevocably stained by it.

“Come in, then. The water’s fine,” you tell him as you laugh and laugh, waves rippling through the bloody mess as you turn to offer him your hand. He only stares at you, and for once you can’t even begin to guess what he’s thinking or feeling. Elias looks horribly blank, and you can’t cope with apathy. Is it caution, maybe, that flickers across his eyes? Your laughter begins to fade, and still he only stares.

Abruptly, he turns and leaves. His steps leave bloody footprints on the floor as he walks away from you, heading somewhere else within the house. You don’t think you can manage to move. You’re afraid he won’t come back.

He does, of course. He arrives bearing gifts: a mop and bucket. There’s other items present, too: garbage bags, rubber gloves, bleach and disinfectant as well as myriad of other chemical concoctions that you cannot even begin to name. Wordlessly, he offers the handle of the mop to you. You stare at it but do not make any move to accept.

“Clean this up,” he commands. You’ll get no more fear out of him, not tonight. Now he’s upset, or at least that’s what the sternness in his voice and the hard look in his eyes tell you. He’s back to demanding.

The prospect of acquiescing is not one that is agreeable. You do not like cleaning up after yourself, especially after something like this. However, the current state of the room is not liveable as it reeks of blood, and you are certain Elias does not want the stench of the slaughter to spread to the rest of the house. His gaze begins to darken the longer he’s forced to extend the mop handle in your direction.

You wait a beat longer before finally accepting it. You don’t like how it feels in your hands. It feels wrong. Everything that you handle feels horrifically and irrevocably wrong compared to the rightness that is the knife in your grasp. You miss the knife.

You witness the gradual return of Elias’ composure. He gives you a nasty smirk. Back to his old self already. The bastard’s full of schadenfreude. He enjoys it, beholding your misery.

“Will you help?” you venture to ask, and it’s his turn to laugh. His laughter is sharp and precise. Calculated, like everything else about him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s practised it, timed it perfectly to be as cutting as possible in order to inflict maximum damage.

“I think I’ll leave you to it,” he tells you before turning away again. Your eyes follow the trail of crimson he leaves in his wake, each step embossing a bloody footprint onto the floorboards.

Just when he’s about to ascend the stairs he stops in order to take off his shoes. You watch as the blood spreads to the tips of his fingers when he removes them and carefully sets them aside. You like the look of blood on his skin. He wears the colour well.

“Do remember to clean these up, too.” He nods to his bloody tracks, as well as gesturing to the shoes he’s discarded. 

All you can manage is a brief grunt in order to indicate your assent. At first you think he’s laughing as he climbs up the stairs, and you’re ready to express anger at this obvious mockery. However, you realize that his footfalls have long since faded. The noise isn’t coming from anywhere else. It’s just you. Surrounded by blood and a body dismembered. It’s time to finish the job, at any rate.

[staytiny-angel]

Safe Haven 2/?

Co-written with @scream-qween

Pairings: Drew McIntyre/Becky Lynch, Eventually Drew McIntyre/Becky Lynch/Seth Rollins, Jon Moxley/Renee Young, Sasha Banks/Bayley/Charlotte Flair

Warnings: Violence, Language

Word Count: 1799

Summary: After an 8-year absence, 25-year-old Seth Rollins returns home to his pack but in no way resembling the Beta Werewolf that ran away after a violent misunderstanding with his brothers.

Seth is feral, and trapped in a form the bitten wolf shouldn't even be capable of, it turns out that he is the victim of a powerful curse that would make him a mindless slave.

Meanwhile Alpha Werewolf Drew McIntyre and his Part Banshee, Part Sea Witch mate Becky Lynch have joined the unorthodox pack of Haven in search of the final member of the Triad a seer told the pair they were destined to be apart of.

Taglist: @sethsevolution  @feathers-and-flesh-and-wrestling @deepdisireslonging  @writtingrose  @pikapuff316 @hitory--chan @finnsauroraborealis @the-beastslayers-queen

Becky slowly walked toward the cage, not taking her eyes away from the deadly predator currently staring at her with golden-brown eyes. Kneeling next to her mate she took his hand in hers and hesitantly reached through the thick sliver infused bars with the other.

Seth lifted his massive body up to sniff almost delicately at her hand before whining in the back of his throat and laying back down.

"I believe that's a 'Yes, you can touch me', Spitfire" Drew says with a slight smile.

Becky took a deep breath and reached into the bars again waiting until Seth lifted his head up to smell it once more. "If he bites me, I'm killing Reigns" she muttered. Much to her surprise however, Seth let out a content like a sigh and nudged her hand with his snout.

"He let you touch him?!" Roman exclaimed in surprise, causing Seth to growl at the sound of his big brother's voice

"Shut the fuck up, Alpha," Becky said quietly, "If he bites me I'll fucking drown you, dry land or no"

"Shhh, It's okay." Becky uncharacteristically cooed gently at the trapped wolf "That big dumb brother of yours won't say another fucking word."

Becky started to chant underneath her breath and an ocean blue light surrounded both the hand holding Drew's and the one she had placed on Seth's head.

Seth closed his eyes, sighing, revealing dark brown eyes, as Becky's magic faded. "Becky!" Drew yelled as the redhead almost collasped. "I'm fine, he's fine"

Seth barked in response, wagging his tail. "Fucking dork" Roman chuckled

"You might want to get the siren" Becky said shaking her head to clear it. "That curse is a fucked up thing, it's powered from his life energy. I managed to block it from siphoning more off of him but I don't know how long my shield will last"

Becky stood up and flipped the latches on the cage door and opened it. Seth practically lept at the redhead knocking her back down

"Becky!" Drew called out

"I'm okay," Becky said on an almost giggle as the 400-pound werewolf licked her face and nuzzled at her like an overgrown puppy

The sounds of footsteps pounded down the basement stairs as Hunter, Stephanie, Mox and another heavily bearded man with an acoustic guitar strapped across his back filled the basement

"Hey baby brother," Mox said as Seth ran over to him, Stephanie petting his head. Roman slowly got up and left, Seth noticing and whining. "He's wondering about that" Elias said, sounding bored. "Give him time to adjust honey, he hasn't forgiven himself"

Seth yipped in response shaking his head "You've been gone a long time doll, shit changes." Elias told him before sitting cross-legged in front of the wolf and placing a hand on Seth's head, a green glow surrounding both of them. "Whatever shield you put up against the curse...magic can get through to him easily now." He says to Becky

"Don't get used to this, brat." The acerbic man tells Seth, "You owe me free coffee and a place to perform for the rest of my life once you get your shop up and running. No offense to Cesaro, but his coffee will never be as good as yours"

Seth somehow managed to make an expression of disgust and grunted at the siren

"Now you and your Alpha will hold up your end of the bargain?" Drew asked Mox.

"Sure, if you like sharing your food with a pair of vampires" Mox replied with a shit-eating grin

"WHAT?! You betray our kind" Drew snapped, Seth, stepping in between them and barking.

"He says thank you for helping him but please don't disrespect his family, ANY of his family," Elias says to Drew quietly

"Violet babysat him when he was little" Stephanie says "Finn played Lego with him, they are his family. We only found him in the woods because Violet smelled the blood from the mansion" the older witch shook her head.

"If Violet and Finn had been anything other then Vampires, they absolutely would have raised him themselves. It broke their hearts just as much as ours when he left" Hunter added

Seth whined "Oh yeah kid, you're in deep shit. Queenie is gonna get you for running off like a little bitch" Elias says with a nasty smirk

Seth looked down guiltily and nudged his brother. Mox immediately began petting his head. "Who did this to you?" Drew asked Seth who barked in response

"What?!" Elias' magic flashed poison green before settling back into a more mellow shade "Paul Heyman?! He says he went looking for his birth parents. He wanted to know where he came from...about a year ago he got in a fight with Heyman's pet monster and ended up like this. Hold on you've been like this for a fucking year?!" Elias exclaimed "You were trapped in full shift for a year. You were only feral for 3 months the best that you can guess?"

Seth whined, and looked down. "Seth, honey. Why didn't you tell me? I could have found them" Stephanie said.

"He didn't want to" Mox said. "That's what we fought about. I said that they were probably dead. Ro...he said he'd be turning his back on us if he went looking for them. Roman lost his temper and attacked him, that's why Seth ran"

Seth howled "I'm sorry little brother. I...shouldn't have said that bullshit." Mox says dropping to the ground and wrapping his arms around his brother.

"That's where I know that curse from" Stephanie says quietly "Heyman. He developed it. It strips Born Shifters of their humanity....holy shit. That's why it didn't work on you, Starshine. Heyman's curse only works fully on Born Shifters. He must have assumed you were one."

"We have to turn Seth back to normal first," Mox said firmly. "Before I rip Heyman to pieces"

"Take him to Finn and Violet," Elias said, "You can turn him back now I assume?" He says looking at Becky and Stephanie

Stephanie nodded looking at Becky "If you can keep your shield spell up, I know the counter curse for this. I've done it for someone else in our pack that used to be one of Heyman's pets. Cesaro wasn't under it for as long as Seth has been."

"Your gonna need a big ass circle for this one, boss lady." Elias told her "and you are definitely gonna need Balor to fortify it. A lot of energy is pent up inside Twinkle here."

"Can I ask what's with all the star references? He wears a shooting star necklace too." Becky asks

Seth dropped to the floor in embarrassment, "Oh its because he's obsessed with space." Stephanie explained with a smile "He wanted to be an Astronomer when he was a little boy"

Seth let out a series of mumbles that made Elias chuckle. "He still has that potty mouth"

"Do you think Heyman knows that the spell didn't work on Seth?" Hunter finally speaks up

"Let's hope he didn't think it wasn't powerful enough, last thing we need is him boosting his magic" Stephaine replies

"Are you strong enough for this?" Stephanie asked Becky, who nodded. "Let's finish it and bring him back." The younger woman replied

"Come on Seth," his mother told him. "Time to face your other set of parents."

The group headed along the path that winded through the south woods that bordered Haven to a large mansion that looked like It had been dropped there from the Victorian era.

"This place makes so much sense now that we know who lives inside." Becky told her mate.

"Yeah" Drew grumbled, still unhappy about this turn of events.

Seth had stuck close to the pair the entire walk, at times dancing around them and nipping at their heels like he was excited about something.

Elias looked down at the wolf and snorted "You know all hell is about to break loose when everyone figures that out right?"

Seth barked at him, giving his friend a wolfy smirk before he turned to Mox, with an evil glint in his eyes.

"Don't you fucking dare-" Mox was suddenly shoved down, landing in dirt, Seth howling at him, looking at Drew and Becky, the pair laughing.

"You little shit" Mox growled, taking his jacket off before shifting himself, turning into a reddish brown wolf before tackling Seth.

"What will cause all hell to break loose?" Becky asked Elias

The siren let out a rusty laugh, like it wasn't a sound he made often "I hope the two of you like living in Haven. He won't want to leave again anytime soon" he says cryptically before taking the guitar off his back and strumming it as he walked along

"He won't want to leave again?" Becky whispered to her mate "He as in Seth?"

"I don't understand love. Sirens are...cheeky" He teased.

"Damn right" Becky grinned, slapping Drew on the ass before continuing her path.

The group came across a wolf sitting on the stairs, jumping from his spot. "Hey Baron" Elias greeted. "We need to see Finn and Violet"

Baron looked at the blond streaked wolf and let out a howl.

"Yep, your senses aren't betraying you, the Prince has returned" Elias answered him

The huge black wolf spun and ran up the stairs of the mansion barking his head off.

"Baron!" a woman's French-accented voice called out, "What is that racket you are making Mon Loup?"

An unnaturally pale but beautiful blue-haired woman came into view followed by a bearded man with short brown hair.

"Finn, Violet something happened while you were away from home" Stephanie says

Violet sniffed at the air, and gasped at the familiar, long missed scent "My baby?!"

Seth barked and ran forward, Drew unknowingly tensing. "I missed you Chaton," Violet said, kissing his furry head.

"Why is he fully shifted….he shouldn't be able…." Violet started to ask as she unceremoniously sat on the foyer floor and pulled the huge wolf into her lap. Finn sat down next to her and Seth immediately moved so that he was draped across both Vampires as he growled softly at them.

"Hey twinkle? My French and Gaelic are both real fucking rusty, would ya mind thinking in English?" Elias sighed rubbing his temples. "I know. I know. Automatic reaction to being with your Vampiric parental units. Apology accepted."

"He says….Twinkle I know, that part has to be in French I do know that word." Elias rolls his eyes in exasperation "He says he's sorry for leaving without telling you, Maman."

"Do it again and I'll kick your fuzzy little ass" Violet says quietly, but with feeling

Finn sat there petting Seth before saying "Don't you EVER worry us like that again." A low growl entered his voice, his eyes flashing blood red. "All THREE of us will kick your ass."

#shai writes #seth rollins #Rollintyre #Rollynch #Rollynchtyre #becky lynch fanfic #becky lynch #drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre fanfic #dean ambrose #jon moxley #roman reigns #seth rollins fanfic #seth rollins fic #seth rollins imagine #seth rollins smut

[samesongxox]

Savior: Chapter 5 (There’s Something about Phyrra)

Summary: (Hellboy 2019) AKA Turning a New Leaf AKA Good Samaritans Need Love Too. The B.P.R.D is tasked to infiltrate a black market creature trafficking ring led by a powerful warlock. Hellboy rescues Phyrra who is found being held hostage, a slave for her magic. He must protect her as she is hunted by her master and his gang of monsters. (AU where Broom isn’t dead/Abe wasn’t found)

It will be rated M, it will include violence, swearing, smuttiness, all the good things in life.

Disclaimer: Hellboy belongs to Dark Horse Comics/Mike Mignola, I don’t own anything except the AU and my OC’s.

Phyrra sat cross-legged on the bed, enraptured as Binx animatedly retold her side of the story: how Phyrra had sent her away during her dealings with Elias, then the shock of the pixie being accosted by some woman on her way back to Phyrra’s room. Returning to a wild, bewildered Phyrra acting as if that Hellboy was the only one she wanted around her. Binx used her usual scathing descriptions of how she saw things.

“You were scandalous with him Phyrra! Not at all yourself! I had not seen you like that in many moons! I tried to get him away, but you would not allow it!”

Binx had spent decades protecting Phyrra from the men around: that nasty warlock being the bain of her existence. At least the beast’s attention towards Phyrra had not held any contempt or lascivious intentions, Binx couldn’t say the same for this demon. 

Sure he had strode in and took Phyrra away from the wicked man that had held her friend, and by extension herself, for so many years. But the pixie had the unusual talent of reading things unsaid clearly, and she sensed great darkness in this Hellboy. Perhaps Binx was biased in her opinion, she owed everything to Phyrra. It didn’t stop the light that ever emanated from the elven girl.  

No creature on earth would ever be worthy of Phyrra, in Binx’s eyes at least.    

“But...He saved me Binx, saved us.”

“Yes, yes what a white knight he is.” Phyrra, her mind unwillingly placing a picture of Hellboy in her mind, she felt her face burn.

She was struck with the remembrance that in the last moments before her blankness, she had been in a towel, readying for a bath. 

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. She was in a robe now. Someone had changed her. Maybe it had been this woman? At Phyrra’s urgent question, Binx could only glance away, further prove of what Phyrra feared. “I will concede he was at least a gentleman about it all. Also at least stopped you from further harming that human.”

“Binx,” Phyrra desperate urging in her voice frightening the pixie. “I’m all fuzzy. I cannot remember much. It’s all coming in flashes.”  

 “What of our time before…” Binx hesitated, the reminder of her friend’s loss of memories stunning her. “What do you remember of your family?”

“Nothing, it’s all blank.” Binx, normally the fire-cracker, looked more fearful than Phyrra ever seen. Binx choked on her reply. She just couldn’t do it. Selfish as it was, Binx had no desire to open the old wounds of Phyrra’s past.

“It is not my place Phyrra. You must recall it yourself.” Phyrra looked at her friend with great confusion, Binx had the answers, but was refusing to give them. It was preposterous. 

“Excuse me? Don’t be ridiculous Binx! Tell me!” Binx’s expression was hearty with gloom. Phyrra was already in a fragile state, Binx did not want to be the one to break her. Maybe in a week’s time, if all goes well. Binx rationalized to herself. On the outside, she smiled with great sadness towards Phyrra.  

“I...I simply cannot.” 

“You are really annoying me dilthen nad (little one).” Phyrra snapped, scooping the miniscule creature up into her hands. Holding her with the intent of not letting go until Binx gave her the justification for this unnecessary behaviour.   

Binx decided the conversation was over, dictated by a burst of fire in Phyrra’s palms. 

Letting her friend go, she scurried away on translucent wings. Figure it out herself? Phyrra was baffled. At the back of her mind, she could hear the Professor talking about the texts regarding all matters of subjects. Well, if she was to be responsible for returning her memories, that seemed to be the best place to start.

“Fine, have it your way Binx. We are taking a trip to that library,” Binx returned back to her companion, hesitant but firm in her Phyrra’s strength to see through this. Goddess knew the elf had spent many lonely nights of hard survival before Binx found her.

Using her internal clock, Phyrra had to have been talking to Binx for an hour or so. She was brought here last night, Hellboy had slept the whole night by her side. Now it was mid-morning.

Phyrra felt herself unthinkingly pondering over him. Perhaps she should go talk to him first? She needed to know what had happened, and what he had seen from her. He disconcerted her in a way Phyrra has never experienced, she hoped his answers to her questions would aleve that. 

“Hey, brought you the clothes. I also ran into someone in the hallway.” Phyrra was halted in her determination as Sorah walked in with a hulking human male, dressed in a fine black suit. Phyrra only had to shift her gaze to the awful purple mottling along the male’s neck to know who this was. The man she had mauled. Had held in her grasp with intent to hurt, maybe even kill. 

“Jason Hurse, ma’am.” He was smiling at her with quiet reserve, much too kind of a greeting for what she deserved.

“Call me Phyrra.” She felt her eyes sting, she was a monster. An absolute brute. He should he furious with her, too disgusted to even be here.

“It’s a pleasure, Phyrra.” Jason approached her bedside with ease, completely unafraid of her despite what had occured between them. 

“Words can’t describe my guilt. I feel…. Ghastly.”

“Don’t. Hey, you were strapped onto this gurney in this new environment, you did what you had to do. Trust me this kind of danger comes with this job, and I’ve been through worse. I fully understand your reaction to that situation.”

Phyrra was astonished. This human was unbelievable in his humbleness. There was something Phyrra could obviously do to make up for it. 

“You are a gracious man. Please, allow me to heal you.”

“Well I’m not gonna argue. It would save me trying to explain this to the missus,” Hurse said good-naturedly. Jason gave his consent as Phyrra requesting to touch the bruise. Both him and Sorah watched in awe as the tattoos on the elf’s body began to glow, the patterns floating off her skin onto Jason’s. After a few quiet moments, Phyrra removed her hand to Hurse’s usual pale toned neck, the injury was gone.

“Phyrra...That was amazing!” The elf shrugged under Sorah’s watch. She was used to being praised for her magic, although it had always been Elias. It left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Woah.” Hurse stood up and shook his arms. “Weird. I feel like I have so much energy.” Taking stock of how his body felt rejuvenated, he glanced at his watch. Cursing at the time, he explained that he was supposed to be meeting with S.W.A.T Team Two right now to discuss the Yeti den findings.   

“Thank you Phyrra. I gotta get back to work, but it was great to meet you again, seriously. See you around!” The man bolted out of the room, already late. Sorah and Phyrra regarded each other laughing softly. 

“Sorah, would it be possible for me to go to the library?”

“Of course! Your just gonna go to the elevator and hit the button that says 5C. In fact, I’ll walk you over there. It gets a little crazy around her at this time.”

There was much action happening around her when Sorah loaded Phyrra into the contraption: nurses dressed wounds and speaking with patients or each other. Phyrra thanked whoever was listening that no one seemed to pay her much mind, and as always having Binx by her side gave her strength. 

Either they had been warned about her presence, or were still wary of her because of what she did to Jason… She would have to seek forgiveness from them all.

The elevator jerked to a stop. Phyrra looked up at the glowing red ‘4B’. Not her floor. The door slid open to reveal a young woman who looked in appearance around the same age, she was dressed very casually with a floppy hat and baggy pants. Her placid expression lit up at the surprising sight of Phyrra.

“Hey! Great to see you up and about. Back to normal yeah?” Phyrra was snapped out of her wallowing thoughts by the bright voice. The woman walked into the elevator and went to press the same button Sorah had not three minutes ago. Phyrra remained suspiciously silent, left so by this girl’s affectionate greeting.  

“Right. Sorry. Forgot you woke up not remembering everyone,” The female extended her hand, “Alice, nice to meet ya’.”

“This is the girl that stopped me back at Elias’s. She reeks of death but is perfectly healthy. Quite a strange thing.” Shushing Binx’s harsh words, even though the taller girl could not understand the words, Phyrra accepted her hand.  

“You are the one that found Binx?”

“Your little glowly friend? Yup that was me. Hey again.” 

“She wasn’t rough with me, and is quite charming.” Binx couldn’t stop the humour entering her voice. If they were to be in contact with these mortal’s for now, she would try and find her amusement where she can. 

“I must go around to you all and apologize for my actions, they are reprehensible.” 

“Aw, not to worry! All is right as rain, as my mum used to say.” Phyrra found herself smiling at the easygoing, playful way Alice held herself.

“Okay Phyrra. I gave you your chastization, but please try and not beat yourself up too hard old girl.” The elf nodded at the pixie. She understood, at this moment she was going through a great change. Phyrra was in a place she didn’t have to watch what she said and could make her own decisions. The idea was daunting.  

“Is she mad at us for bringing you here or something?”

“Of course not, Binx wants what is best for me,” Smiling at Alice, this cordial girl, Phyrra felt the burdens surrounding her ease. 

“I believe this is what is best for me at the moment. Would you mind showing me around the library?”

Alice agreed wholeheartedly, even going as far as linking her arm with Phyrra in a show of camaraderie.

The door’s dinged open.

Phyrra could do this. Right now she was with good company, people she could trust. She felt she had a purpose, one that didn’t involve being someone’s pet. And once she recovered fully, she could decide if this ‘being a team member’ would work out.

_

A few hours later…..

Hellboy tossed the beer can into the growing pile detected.

He was a stranger to her now. Hellboy wished, no matter how he told himself not to, for the Phyrra he found to come back. She would wake up and once again only want him around.

Absently strumming his guitar, the memory of their time together haunted him: her first waking up, pinning him with her gaze, the choice she made to stay in his arms, mending his wounds, trusting him so explicitly. Now all he could think about was the disdain and fear she emitted as he tried to touch her. He reached for her fucking hand. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

The last couple hours he spent asking the same mundane question to creature after creature: Where are you from? How were you abducted by Elias? How can we help you find your way home? At least it had made it so his mind was occupied. Now in the comfort of his room, he had nothing else but to wallow in his misery.  

He knew she was one of the good ones. He was glad to find out her reactions had been some sort of animalistic sense of survival she had turned to. 

Hellboy, during one of his breaks, had snuck into the security rooms, finding the feed of Phyrra’s room. He found the logs in which his father spoke with her. He knew he was being a coward, a worm. His finger hovered over the play button. Father had told him nothing but perfunctory information when he stopped by after talking with Phyrra: She was another prisoner of Elias’s, and seemed to be suffering from amnesia. 

Hellboy wanted to hear it from her. 

In the end, fate had answered the dilemma for him. Ben arrived on the scene, having been told where the cambion had slipped away; Hellboy whipped around with guilt like a teenage boy caught playing with himself. Ben was holding two sandwiches from the mess hall, wearing a smug grin.

“There you are, come on Hellboy.” The Major threw the wrapped one at Hellboy, forcing him to catch it. “I even asked them to cut the crust off for you.” 

There was also the matter of Hurse. 

On their way back, Hellboy heard his name being called. Turning around, he was met with the running form of Hurse, the man wasn’t winded when he reached them.

“Hey Hellboy, I just wanted to tell you. I met Phyrra, again.” Happily, he displayed his neck sans bruise. Hellboy knew he wasn’t doing it with any malice, just wanted to be a man showing good will. Hellboy knew Hurse to be happily married for 15 years. It didn’t stop the envy at the idea of Phyrra just healing anyone willy-nilly.

He knew first hand the penetrating, all consuming feeling when she used her ability. 

“No hard feelings, she’s a real sweet kid.” 

“Shit.” Hellboy realized he was playing the chords to ‘More Than Words’ and stopped immediately. He had to get a hold of himself for Christ sakes.  

So he agreed with the fact she didn’t attack intentionally, obviously he knew he couldn’t be with enamoured with an evil being, Nimue crushed that idea. He did want her back to that way incidentally, if only to not have to be so foolish around her. He was getting very frustrated with the conflicted feelings surrounding her. He wasn’t a dealing with feelings kinda guy, he needed to go out, do some target practice, get into some trouble. 

Maybe start a fight.

Hellboy stood up too fast, letting out a slurred ‘Woah!’ before balancing himself sloppily on his dresser. That was the first time he had risen in 30 minutes, those beers were hitting him. 

Clumsy as shit, Hellboy stumbled about his room, until the telltale sound of light knocking reached him. Who the fuck was bothering him right now? It was the middle of the fucking night.

Hellboy lumbered over to the door, retching it open. A curse ready on his tongue. 

It was Phyrra. Looking at him expectantly. Sorah had found her clothes, Hellboy thought belated. She was dressed in a black t shirt depicting the B.P.R.D logo, and pajama pants. It was quite a different sight from the robes that bundled her, or the slight towel she was draped in when he first saw her..

He was way too drunk for this.

What he wanted to say was, “Hey Phyrra. What brings you out here at this late hour?” Instead, what he got out was:

“Oh.”

 Phyrra was taken aback by the stilted greeting, but only for a moment. It was quite a late hour, she cleared her throat and pressed on.

“Hello again, I could not stop thinking. At least not until I came to make amends.” Phyrra felt herself strangely nervous around him, sweat collected at the back of her neck but she felt chilled anyways. 

After spending the last while in the library with Alice, finding comfort in the woman’s help and presence, Phyrra had found nothing to jog her memory. Phyrra could see the way Alice was struggling to keep her eyes open, she made the decision to call it a night, thanking the woman for her company and asking where Hellboy was. She was met with a wide grin from Alice with prompt directions to his room, before she flounced away in a girlish manner betraying her age. 

Phyrra liked the B.P.R.D. It wasn’t hard to find these lodgings much more satisfactory than under Elias’s care, but it wasn’t just that. There was life in the B.P.R.D, agents and various government workers passing her in the hallway with kind looks, sometimes a ‘Hello,” Phyrra wasn’t used to most interactions, especially with mortals. They were quite an interesting kind of people. Her new friend’s Sorah and Alice molding her opinion. 

She thought about all this on the way to Hellboy’s domain, now that she was here. Her tongue was undoubtedly tied in knots, she wanted an answer from him, but forcing herself to look up to continue eye contact, she was thoroughly intimidated.   

“Thank you is not sufficient to extend my gratitude. I am forever indebted to you for-”

“Stop!” Both of them flinched at his sudden loud interruption.   

“Sorry, I mean, you don’t need to do all this.” Hellboy scratched the back of his neck, bumbling the whole thing rather expertly. “I was just doing my job.” 

“Okay, but still. I was told of the way I…. Behaved towards everyone here, and how you were there to stop me. That still requires my recognition.”

Fuck, she was so beautiful. There was no doubt about it, he couldn’t feel shame for thinking something so evident. She was like one of those paintings he saw the time werewolves got loose in the Met. 

During the midst of the fight, Hellboy had stopped, strangely drawn to a specific one hung on the wall. Hellboy wasn’t some fine art connoisseur, that kind of frou-frou shit was more dad’s style, but he had to admit this was kinda cool. It was a young girl, tangled in what looked to him to be bandages or rope or something. The background had been dark colours made to look like some sort of forest. She was fighting against the binds, hands curled into fists and muscles flexed in tension, her face displaying the strain it was to break free. 

She was a cutie, by 17th century standards, but it was her eyes that caught him most of all. They were a curious sort of calm, as if she knew without doubt that eventually she would succeed in her struggle. He could of stood there analyzing that painting the whole night, if he hadn’t of been tackled away from it by some smelly dog. 

That girl in the painting reminded him of Phyrra. Many layers made her up. Fierce and wild at times, vulnerable and distant at others. This elf girl was an enigma. One that was currently looking at him with confusion.      

He hadn’t said anything in response to her.

He had just been staring down at her like a creep.

“Well, good night then...” Phyrra scurried away from the entrance to his bedroom; well that did not go the way she wanted it to. She would first apologize, he would accept and she would get the chance to ask him what happened while they were alone. 

Now away in her thoughts, she couldn’t just blame her own blundering. What had greeted her at his door had halted her, something was off about Hellboy. What was once full of nervous energy, was slothish and bumbling. He could barely get his words out.

No matter, she had cleared her conscience and now could leave him alone, he obviously didn’t care nor desire her apology. 

Whatever happened between them could be completely forgotten about. Reliving what had just transpired on repeat as she escaped, Phyrra knew that was an utter lie.  

Hellboy watched stunned as she walked away.  

“Night…..Hey wait!” Hellboy took a step through the threshold, only to step on the tail-end of his jacket, spilling himself to the floor in quite a hilarious spectacular if anyone were around to witness it. 

“Shit.”

#hellboy fanfiction #fanfiction #hellboy 2019 #hellboy #writing #hellboy oc

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 47 - CGY

In case you were lucky enough to miss Monday night’s catastrophe in Edmonton let me just fill you in: The Sabres have six wins since late November and there is a bit of a crisis unfolding. To many angry fans delight there were reports midday Tuesday of Phil Housley running a very “not so fun” video session before practice in Calgary. There were strongly worded statements from guys who wear letters like Zach Bogosian, and Housley said some nice things about Eichel but ultimately the motto we heard early in the season of not getting too high or low emotionally won out. I’m not that kinda even-keeled guy when it comes to my sports so I wanted to tear this team a new one after that embarrassment Monday Night. Instead I’ll focus my energy on the Flames here: they’re the hottest team in the West all puns intended. They caught fire (yes, more puns) late in the first half of the season and now sit atop the strong West and weak Pacific Division. Before any of the recent success the Flames stayed neck and neck with the Sabres in their last meeting back in Buffalo. Tight games make for rattled nerves and this game was the higher scoring version of another tight matchup. I had no chill in the third period of this game. Calgary may be a good chill pill though for us panicking Sabres fans: consider the makeup of that team. They have their special talent, a couple of franchise centers, a top D-man and a developing young core. The club has been in something of a rut the last couple years just not being able to go anywhere if they do make the playoffs. Just like us Sabres fans earlier this season all it takes is a good stretch and you’re outlook changes. They timed theirs a bit better but I digress: it’s coming friends; a consistently competitive Sabres squad is coming one way or another. I took most of this game off from social media because that’s been so rough lately and perhaps I do that more because this game was a nice little shot of refreshment in dower times for Buffalo once you get past the nervous jitters.

The Flames played their game from the opening puck drop. Luckily, at least early on, the Sabres frustrated many of their efforts standing up in the neutral zone and breaking up some of the scariest plays. While the home team would get the edge in shots by the end of the first that category seemed rather even for most of the frame. Calgary leads the league in short-handed goals and nearly got one on the Sabres powerplay halfway through the first. Jeff Skinner took a nasty tumble into the wall in a battle in the corner but was back out two shifts later. Johan Larsson played very well for his role throughout this game. Jason Pominville tripped Matthew Thachuk in a very obvious way late and got penalized for it. The period was in its last second when Bogosian’s skate bounced a puck to Johnny Gaudreau right in front. Johnny Hockey didn’t miss and the clock read .5 seconds with the Flames entering the first intermission with 1-0 lead. The second period played like the rollercoaster of emotion this season has become. The first ten minutes it was clear the Flames had some momentum. They took over the possession game and hardly let the visitors out of their own zone for half the period. Linus Ullmark made more than a couple great saves but the one that you’ll see in the highlights is him leaping and rolling to stop a rebound shot. If it was to be a much needed win for Buffalo it would be in no small part because Ullmark kept them in this game.

Then our pal Johnny Hockey gets called for the softest hooking penalty you’ll see this week. Don’t worry Calgarians, the Sabres don’t do shit on the powerplay. There was a momentum shift in that fruitless two minutes though and shortly thereafter the puck was cleared from Ullmark to Mittelstadt who saw the opportunity to sky the puck to Evan Rodrigues who had just jumped on the ice. It was a full breakaway and E-Rod just tapped in five-hole on David Rittich. I didn’t give this guy his due for scoring last game so today we celebrate Rodrigues: two goals in two games after only having two goals through the prior 39 games. Rodrigues worked his way out of the lost three in preseason and has become a consistent contributor this season if not in goals than assists and plays. Last night it was a goal. A late hit on Lawrence Pilut (who may have also had one of his better games ever) touched off a brief scrum shortly after showing the Flames were somewhat annoyed. I would be too because without Ullmark this game would’ve been a rout through two periods. It was not and it was tied at 1 going into the third. The third period would show just how much the Sabres wanted out of this losing streak.

The visitors came out with the snarl they had developed in the second but Sam Bennett drew a penalty via Rasmus Dahlin and the Flames went to the powerplay where Elias Lindholm and Matthew Thachuk teamed up for a tap in goal. Lindholm has been a great pickup for Calgary and we here in Buffalo can relate to robbing Carolina blind. Anyway, the 2-1 lead for the home team could’ve been it with how the Sabres have been playing recently. Luckily, less than a minute later Jack Eichel and Sam Reinhart forwarded the puck along the boards in the O-zone to Rasmus Dahlin setup at the blueline. Dahlin took a real hard shot that must have taken a deflection or two because when it went in the top right corner over Rittich shoulder there was some surprise from all involved. Tie game. The spark was fully ignited now and Jake McCabe had hardly gotten into the O-zone when he took a similar slapper shot and, redirected or not, the puck got past Rittich: 3-2 and the visitors’ first lead of the game. It was at this point that Lindholm was battling Pilut in the Sabres D-zone when he attempted to murder Pilut with a cross check to the neck. No call as Pilut struggles to stay up and Noah Hanifin, another robbery from Carolina, finds the equalizer. Had the game been played in Buffalo that play would’ve gotten loud boos. Mikael Backlund got penalized a couple minutes later as a clear make-up call but nothing came of it, the Flames outshot the Sabres through the remainder of the period and this game went to OT. In spite of dominating play for large stretches of this game Calgary never had the puck in overtime and at 1:10 Jack Eichel outmaneuvers Mark Giordano and took the lane to shoot high and end it. Sabres win 4-3 in OT.

In my “Points in the Standings Acceptability” scale for this Western Canada roadie I put 3 points as the bare minimum. Really, we have to want a win tomorrow against Vancouver to have any good feelings going into the bye-week/All Star weekend. This middle stretch of the season has been a disaster and in spite of the joy of this win there needs to be some consistency to get out of crisis mode. A Two game stack of wins going into the break probably doesn’t do that but it’s a start. Coming back to Columbus and Dallas after the break is not a tremendous help either but these guys got themselves into this mess and they’ll have to get out… well unless something else happens in the intermittent time. I don’t want to speculate about trades at the moment, too pissed. Bench Scandella and fix that ugly friggin powerplay. The powerplay of this team continues to be unacceptable and frankly heads should roll for that. Your ugly stretch as of late looks that much different if you capitalize on even half of your powerplays. The Sabres have scored once on their last 20 attempts: disgusting. On a lighter note, Eichel is back on track and Rasmus Dahlin now holds the longest point streak for an 18-year-old defenseman in NHL history at 5 games played. The Sabres fought hard last night, could not be denied and got rewarded for it with the most refreshing two points in a while, eh?

The teams ahead of the Sabres in the playoff race aren’t slowing down unfortunately. You can’t do anything about the week and a half off but narrowing the gap a little tomorrow in Vancouver is somewhat helpful. Like, share and comment on this blog, I would love to hear from you. I for one am just happy to go about my normal tasks today with a Sabres win hanging over my head and not the storm cloud of doom that’s been there awhile… er… maybe the storm cloud isn’t far behind but we won! We won, dammit! The Buffalo Sabres just beat the second best team in the league and we ought to take that for what it is. We’ll have to wait and see if it’s the turning point this team needs.

Thanks for reading.

P.S. With Nathan Beaulieu requesting a trade (or just asking for more minutes depending on who you ask) it might just force Jason Botterill’s hand in a larger move. That said you could have just benched Scandella but whatever.

#buffalo sabres #hockey #nhl #blog

[macadoodle1996]

Arguing with an old fashion accessory was not how Evanna had imagined her first night of Hogwarts going.

"NO!" she said. "I'm at Hogwarts-I'm away from my family for the first time-you can't just send me back to them!"

The Sorting Hat chuckled. "You truly know nothing," it said amusedly.

"I know enough to blast you off the face of the earth," she growled.

"Should I not place you in Slytherin, where would I put you? You are no Hufflepuff," it reasoned.

"Anywhere. I don't care. I just want out from my father's thumb," she replied.

"My dear, you have never been under your father's thumb," it told her. "And in Slytherin you will rise so far that Lucius Malfoy would never be able to touch you."

Evanna pictured it in her mind's eye. Making her own allies in the House of Snakes, giving and taking favors, gaining respect and power, starting out of Hogwarts with an internship and connections, climbing her way up and shedding the Malfoy name until she was standing taller than all of them.

"So, léitheoir aigne, what do you say?" the Sorting Hat rumbled. Those words again, she would have to focus on that later.

"Are you sure you can't just send me to Gryffindor?" she all but whined. The Sorting Hat chuckled.

"The only one that would be more upset about that than my maker would be SLYTHERIN!"

The last word was said aloud, to the applause of the Great Hall. Evanna smoothed her skirt primly as she stood, making her way slowly to the table at the far left side of the hall, though not without a dirty look to the Sorting Hat. Her brother clapped her on the shoulder, but leaned over to her to mutter disapprovingly.

"You were almost a hatstall. What took so long?"

Evanna looked at him coolly. "I told you-I won't be Lucius Malfoy's prisoner any longer. The Sorting Hat just had to convince that I could do that without going to Gryffindor."

Her brother choked. "Gryff-"

"Shh, Draco," she said haughtily. "There is a Sorting ceremony going on."

Like they had predicted in the compartment, Bridget was Sorted into Hufflepuff and Ginny into Gryffindor, though Evanna noted that the girl looked a little disheartened as she went to sit with the lions. The feast was delicious, though Evanna did almost find herself wishing for the long oak table at the Manor, on the nights it had just been her and her mother as her father was out of town. She wrinkled her nose as her brother's friends, Crabbe and Goyle, overstuffed their plates and mouths.

"That's really who you choose to spend your time with?" she said derisively.

"Oi, Malfoy!" someone called from down the table. Evanna turned to see a dark-skinned boy with closely shaved hair and sparkling eyes. "You never told us you had a sister."

The boy winked at her. Evanna felt her cheeks burn.

"Shove off, Zabini," Draco glowered, halfway blocking Evanna with his body. "I didn't mention her to you for good reason."

Evanna shoved her way around him, holding out a hand as though she were some great lady. Which I will be. "You may call me Evanna."

"Then you may call me Blaise, fair lady," the boy said, giving her hand a dapper kiss. Evanna all but giggled. Draco looked between the two with obvious distaste.

"You're about to make me lose my supper, Zabini," he drawled.

"Anyone hear anything about Potter and the Weasel yet?" a whiny voice said from down the table. Draco's face crumpled in disgust for a moment before smoothing to the usual aristocrat in a way that Evanna knew the voice could belong to only one person: Pansy Parkinson.

"No, but I assume that they must be with Snape-he's been gone all night," someone else said down the table.

Draco looked almost gleeful. "Then surely that means that they'll be expelled!"

Evanna felt her heart pound uncomfortably at the thought. She had been wanting to see the boy with the broken glasses again, ever since she had met him earlier that summer. But for him to be expelled before she ever even got the chance…?

"Don't be so sure, Malfoy," Blaise replied. "Dumbledore and McGonagall have left now."

Draco said something that Evanna knew their mother would have never stood for. Before their conversation was able to go any further, however, the dishes disappeared from in front of them, eliciting groans from the hulking beasts that Draco called friends. Evanna wrinkled her nose.

"First years! First years this way!" a girl with a Prefect pin on her chest was calling, waving the Slytherins her way.

"Oi, midgets, get moving or get lost in the dungeons for three days!" her male counterpart followed up.

"Classy, Warrington," the girl sneered.

"Always, Padgett."

"You better get on," Draco said. "We'll see you in the dungeons."

Evanna nodded, clambering out from the table as gracefully as possible and joining the small group of Slytherin first years-and it was small. There were only four boys in her year and three girls. Evanna knew that Purebloods generally had very few children but it was more than that-the year she had been born was when the Dark Lord was at the height of his power. As she looked across the hall, she noted that her House did not have the only small incoming class. Growing up when she did, she knew that the war had been devastating to the Wizarding World in an intellectual sense; now she truly saw it for the first time.

"Is that all of you?" Padgett said with a sort of resigned look on her face. "Let's move."

The two Prefects began leading the first years through the corridors, the atmosphere growing darker and cooler as they drew closer to the dungeons.

"How far down do you think we'll go?" a blonde girl with glasses that made her look rather owlish asked nervously.

"Why? You scared of the dark?" one of the boys snickered, a nasty look on his face. Evanna decided that she did not like him.

"Any sane person should be," she informed him coolly. "Don't you know what lives in the dark?"

The boy must have seen something in Evanna's face that made him nervous because he quickly shut up and hustled to the front of the group. She smirked at him.

"Alright, little Snakelings," Padgett said, stopping in front of a nondescript door. "Welcome to your new home."

"Mind you don't forget the password-it changes every fortnight and if you forget to check it, you're just outta luck," Warrington said nastily. The first years clustered closer to him to make sure they did not miss the password. "Avalon."

The door sprang open and the students all filed in. If looking at Hogwarts had felt like coming home, the Common Room felt like a look inside of Evanna's soul. Directly across the room was a long window that seemed to have been carved from the rock itself. As she watched, a merwoman swam past, waving at an older student and making several hand gestures in quick succession, that the student seemed to respond to. There was a low fire burning in the stone fireplace, making what could have been damp and cold inviting. The room was decorated in rich greens and burnished silver, with low, plush couches that would not have looked out of place in the home of a Roman aristocrat. Without truly meaning to, a soft smile came to Evanna's face.

"Welcome to Slytherin House, firsties," Padgett said with a grin. "You all have a lot to live up to-Merlin was one of ours after all-but the Sorting Hat must've seen something in you lo-"

"I can take it from here, Ms. Padgett," a low voice said. From the shadows emerged a man who seemed to be draped in shadows himself. His lank hair was as dark as hers, and his skin just as pale, though he seemed a little more on the sickly side. All in all, he had the appearance of an overgrown bat. "You all will refer to me as Professor Snape or sir. I shall have the overrated privilege of trying to make you each into competent potion brewers in addition to being your Head of House."

Severus Snape. Evanna had heard the name before, and knew that he ran the same soial and political circles as her father, as well as being her brother's favorite professor. However, like so many names she knew, she had never met the man in person. He was intriguing, to say the least.

"In your seven years here, you will learn to comport yourself with the utmost of dignity and uphold the Slytherin ethos of tradition, fraternity, and excellence," he said pacing the line of new students, eyes landing on each one. "This means that no disagreement with a House mate will leave this Common Room and that any just punishment you receive from another teacher I will give you double."

The same nasty boy from earlier opened his mouth and Professor Snape held up a finger, giving half a smirk.

"That also means that I will always fight for you when that punishment is unearned," he said slowly. "You shall always do your very best in your classes and seek assistance from your Prefects or myself when your efforts are insufficient. And finally, your appearance shall always reflect the long tradition of excellence that our House has held. With that in mind-Eva Blishwick."

The blonde girl jumped forward as Professor Snape read her name from a scroll. He handed her a silver and green tie, and a patch with a swirling snake on it.

"The House-elves shall see to it that all of your uniform robes have your crest and are properly lined with green," he told the room at large before speaking to her directly. "Wear it well."

Blishwick nodded and darted back to the line.

"Elias Gamp!" A boy with a smattering of freckles darted forward. "Wear it well. Elin Gamp." The girl who was obviously his twin stepped forward, almost at his hip. "Wear it well. Jaime Hughes." The nasty boy who had made fun of Eva Blishwick. "Wear it well. Teagan Leroy." A lanky brunette. "Wear it well. Evanna Malfoy."

Professor Snape had paused before he read off her name and his eyes snapped up to her own immediately.

She looks nothing like Lucius.

Evanna blinked in confusion and took a few measured steps to her new Head of House, his fathomless eyes burrowing into her very being as she took her tie and crest from his tapered fingers. She wondered absently if he had ever played piano, like her mother had taught her to do when she was young.

"Wear it well," he said slowly, seeming unable to tear his eyes from her. The longer he stared, the more uncomfortable she felt.

"Thank you, sir," she said, just to break the tension. "Is something wrong, sir?"

The professor seemed to shake himself. "Off to bed, all of you. Boys to the left, girls to the right. First years' curfew is 9:30 and all of you are to be in beds, curtains drawn at that time. My prefects will report to me if you are not."

The first years all hustled to do as they were told. Evanna felt so exhausted-and her belly so full-that she knew she would immediately fall asleep. The letter to her mother would have to wait until morning.

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