#apparently even if i'm so used to them dying it doesn't take away the pain

[micronopher]

UNPOPULAR HOT TAKE - YEAH, ABOUT THAT...

Source

Oooo, like... get the toxic Blackbeard off the ship and move onto a new project? Maybe someone like...

Izzy has just gotten a new family, after all. The big problem is Ed, right? Izzy has spent so much time working on the Blackbeard project, pushing him into it all throughout season one and since before. In season one, Izzy seems like he thrives as a *manager type, someone who fits in best with being at someone's side. He clearly sucks at being captain once he's put in charge of The Revenge, but he is a first-rate first-mate (delegating tasks, covering for Ed's mood swings, etc) albeit just plain shit at the personal stuff since he lets his emotions get the better of him.

Speaking of his emotions... He didn't let Blackbeard go -- despite how much pain and suffering went through under the reign of The Kraken 2.0 Completely Unhinged Edition -- until he was literally almost destroyed by him in season 2, episodes 1&2 (and even 3).

He's still gives Ed shit about his feelings for Stede even when he's reverted to Blackbeard persona (albeit overblown) cuz yeah, Stede Fuckin Bonnet is still responsible for Ed acting like a different version of a twat to the crew. You view Bonnet as a pet, you're becoming weak. I'm not going to let you destroy yourself for Bonnet. The atmosphere in this crew is fucked because of your feelings for Bonnet. Izzy doesn't kill Ed -- either because he still can't let go or he refuses to enable him anymore -- and Izzy refuses to die until he just lets someone else kill Ed, to stop the terror and erase the monster he helped to create.

Izzy continues with the crew as best he can, which is really desperate if they're at the point of eating an albatross raw, until Stede Fuckin Bonnest arrives on the ship of the pirate queen.

Like it or not, Stede is Izzy's only chance to save the crew that saved him, apparently executing mutineers being a part of a general pirate code rather than Zheng's own rule. Then it's revealed that, guess what? Izzy kept Ed's body on the ship. Izzy still can't just let him the fuck go, and he creates a story perhaps to delude himself that he didn't allow him to get killed but left on him a some beach. Later, Izzy and the crew are saved by Bonnet. Fucking Stede Bonnet, who should be spiteful at them for killing Ed but saves them anyway, and he has an actual a good plan? Well, then... thank you, sir.

In episode 5, Izzy wants the apparently still living Ed banished, needing a hell of a lot of alcohol to admit that. "The leg has got to come off." Then he yells at the unicorn figurehead, criticizing it for its uselessness (like it can't serve its captain properly). The crew has their captain Bonnet back, what use is Izzy Hands now? Izzy crawls away muttering about being born alone and dying alone and it makes him feel like crap.

But the crew support him. That same crew that were ready to toss him overboard with an anchor, the one he almost got killed because if Ed hadn't swam back to them in Blind Man's Cove they would have been dead from Stede's incompetence, the one of which many of them get over their own trauma super quickly/abruptly because of seeing him suffer like this. They create a new leg from the unicorn to help support himself, and a new view point that like the figurehead, he needs to continue protecting the crew since they've chosen him. An albatross (crewmate) even flies above him, which is just a boatload of more symbolism.

But in episode 5, Edward, that toxicity Izzy helped to create (though it got WAY overblown), is still on the ship. The leg wasn't cut off completely, but it needs time to heal. And Izzy's still not got a firm place, having to practice using his new leg. He's a part of the crew but yet no real place as he's not at the side of any captain.

Then, while rehoning his skills to compensate for his new condition, in walks the reason for why there is such a loving, supportive crew asking him for help in becoming a better pirate-

My, my... a pirate captain already with a title and reputation who still needs a lot some training....

Izzy made some major mistakes with Ed, this time he'll do better. The Gentleman Pirate with first-mate Izzy Hands at his side...

Now Izzy can continue to move on. He won't dwell on what he did and what happened to him. A shark took his leg, a leg he dangled over the water when he knew there was a shark there. Despite his initial intentions, Izzy was wrong to continually force-feed Ed the Blackbeard ideal, nudging him into becoming a shark. Ed should be Ed. And now Izzy can enjoy being part of a crew. The beginning of episode 6 sees a much freer, more relaxed Izzy Hands willing to branch out into other activities.

Hooray! Yes! Be free. Make yourself up, sing your heart out! ...yep, sing that timeless, gorgeous love song... And when the crew is attacked, Captain Stede Bonnet, the Gentleman Pirate, protects them and exacts his vengeance on the perpetrator like a good pirate captain.

Now maybe just leave him alone for a bit, Ed? Let him process it, let's not take risks and get into anything we may regret later... ...or okay, no, do the exact opposite of what Izzy just said and get yourself in a situation where you and Stede both react more to impulse than rationality. Well, congrats. It's about time anyway, and maybe you've worked off some frustration? Go on then. Be happy. But why not go be really happy and figure yourself out? In episode 7, Izzy suggests that Ed follow that impulse of throwing away his leathers. Toss away the Blackbeard persona, Ed. Now you have a family and a boyfriend who balances you out... ...oh, whom you promptly leave because you're not happy sticking to piracy. Unlike Izzy who's content with being a pirate and living on a pirate ship with a pirate crew and a pirate captain. He's good with it *blows out cigarette smoke.* And now he has the Gentleman Pirate.

Izzy had made it a point to refer to Stede as captain when he reported that the ship -- among other things -- was docked. Stede still needs work, but Izzy'll get him there. Izzy goes to talk to Stede, to connect with him over their feelings for the lost Edward.

He doesn't encourage Stede to go back to Ed, he doesn't intend to let Stede stop being their captain. Izzy might not have love for Stede in the same way he did for Ed, but Stede is his new captain of his new family, and he's on his way to a thriving pirate life.

Ed on the other hand might be content to not being a pirate; if he wants a non-pirate life, then who are they to stand in the way of that? Not that he's necesarily trying sabotage anything, this is just how shit is playing out.

Izzy puts his hand on Stede's knee as he says "Let's get you back on the ship." He doesn't want Stede to get hurt in that place when he's such a vulnerable state, doesn't want to get him killed off before he has time to fully bloom.

Remember - we're doing better this time. But his Gentleman Pirate captain is still a silly pirate captain who gets a little too cocky.

Izzy fights best he can in defense of his new captain and crew against the resulting brawlers, but Stede gets his ass handed to him just as the Republic of Pirates goes to hell in a handbasket. In episode 8, Izzy's imprisoned, Stede's fate is unknown to him, and he's confronted with an asshole who is everything he thought Stede was, but isn't.

He reveals to said asshole (who tries to win him over with flattery and the offer of glory) what he himself what he lost sight of in his jealous rage - that the crew is the most important thing. Izzy has always shown little signs of this, commenting to Ed in the first season how they lost several men during their rescue of Stede Fucking Bonnet.

But then perhaps at that time it was more about preserving resources, rather than actually creating bonds. The bond Izzy was obsessed with was the one he had with Blackbeard, trying harder and harder to hang onto it as Blackbeard slipped farther away from him.

Then who would Izzy be left with?

The crew, he realizes. This crew, who protected, cared for, and trusted him. He's found the perfect position with this crew - not quite like a captain who should retain some distance (because really, friendship with one's top boss could be fine, but causes a hella lotta personal/professional strains), but one of them, yet in a leadership position where he can care/advocate for them. And so he does.

Then Stede and Ed arrive to the rescue together, and Izzy is once again with an Edward who isn't going off to do his own thing -- whatever the hell that was -- so he's still going to be there, following Stede around to live Stede's pirate dream even if it isn't what Ed wants.

Ed goes back into his leathers. He's on his way to returning to the Blackbeard persona. Izzy has finally acknowledged Stede as the one who balances Ed out, and he's seen now what happens when they lose each other. Stede might behave like an idiot, but he at least becomes protective of his crew, like when he rescued them from Zheng executing them and laster tried to keep them from joining Zheng.

But what would happen if Ed lost Stede for good? The scale becomes tipped, and he becomes depressed and destructive.

Anyway, Izzy agrees to his captain's plan and follows his crew into battle. He is the one to hold onto the prisoner, to do his part and his duty as first-mate. And he gets shot - unexpectedly, quickly, at point blank, and (maybe unknowingly but it's there) standing between Ed and the line of fire.

He doesn't say a word about it until he can be sure the crew is safe on the ship. He rushes over the hill and the bumpy, sandy beach carrying a bullet in his body, heart racing and blood pumping, and supported by his family when they figure out he's struggling. He's taken to the ship in a rocking dinghy, and has to be hefted over the side. **He's bleeding profusely, internally and externally, fighting against being shot in the abdomen, which could have so many outcomes. Then Ed is above him. Not his new captain, whom he takes a final, affectionate dig at, but Ed.

Ed's crying. Ed cares. Izzy remembers how the crew got him to open up, and this is his last chance to apologize for making so many mistakes with Ed by egging on his Blackbeard side. He realizes he did need Blackbeard; that could be who Izzy Hands is- a first-class first-mate finding his sense of connection to a pirate captain he can be proud of, like Blackbeard, and later like the Gentleman Pirate. But this wasn't just out of his need to be connected to a pirate captain. He'd become selfish because it was his bond with Edward, what he thought defined him (as Ricky even emphasized), and he panicked when Ed started to drift away. But this was possibly a journey he took because he wanted Ed to thrive in a cruel world. Maybe that's what Izzy was doing for Stede all along, and this crew that he's learned to appreciate will always be connected to Stede, and Stede will always be connected to Ed... Izzy needs Ed to trust his crew, so he tells him. He remembers how much the crew adored his ideas of a talent show, and how they cheered his name before Izzy helped to ***fuck it up - warning that Edward better watch his step, claiming that Ed was better off killed by the English rather than not matching that page of who Blackbeard was supposed to be, pushing Ed just over the edge.

The persona of Blackbeard was a demon; the man Ed is the one who cared for his crew and they him. He now needs Ed to know to just be himself, and so he tells him, the last thing he can do for him before he dies.

For the first time (in a long while?), Izzy has had a true, heartfelt connection not with the pirate he created or the version of what he thought he wanted, but with the man Ed should have been allowed to grow into a long time ago.

So... so much for not dying for [that ponce and/or] for Ed. Hopefully, Ed can finally leave pirating if that's what makes him happy. Ed should find what makes Ed happy. As for Stede -- that ridiculous man whom Blackbeard was so insistent on meeting/keeping alive and whose influence has made a such a difference in Izzy's life -- hopefully he'll get to a place where can can be happy, too. Izzy led the pirate life he wanted, dying in his leathers, surrounded by a faithful crew, at the side of the man who helped to define his pirate career - both before and after Stede.

Maybe the crew will put Izzy in a place where he can rest peacefully, rather than tossing him into the sea? That sometimes happens to pirates - buried at sea when they die at sea so they don't stink up the rest of the ship with their rotting corpse if they're not close enough to a speck of land. And maybe it would be nice if they could put up some kind of symbol of their love for him to mark his grave, with clear identifying markers? Maybe at least let him keep his possessions instead of a possibility that the captain would auction them to the rest of the crew? Or perhaps a crewmate at least takes a momento. Unless, of course, Izzy gave them any kind of instructions to this crew (who are simply trying to do their best at showing respect for their fallen comrade) for how he wanted to be buried... Maybe it would even be nice to haunt near where Ed sleeps, as a reminder or possibly to keep ghost-badgering him to not slip back into Blackbeard when he looses someone important to him...

...ok yeah, main point being, Izzy definitely competed for their hearts. Blackbeard and first-mate Izzy Hands

The Gentleman Pirate and first-mate Izzy Hands

This was it. Most of the images

*Personality types are bull, this is a thin reference more than a rule. It doesn't mean one's life is defined by or consummately subordinate to another, just that different people are more comfortable in different positions. **Even in a tv show where the survival of detrimental injuries is possible, it goes without saying that death is not an unreasonable outcome of suffering a bullet wound when you've been moving around. Otherwise, a lot of those naval soldiers would still be walking about ok. ***In season one, Izzy influenced so much of Blackbeard and later became the reason in season two that Ed could let him go. Ed didn't need permission from Izzy to abandon Blackbeard, but he didn't need Izzy to influence him so much into becoming Blackbeard either, and Izzy didn't need to push him like that. Whatever Izzy's reasoning for wanting Blackbeard to stay Blackbeard, it doesn't justify acting like that kind of asshole (betraying them to the enemy, striking when Ed's emotionally vulnerable, etc), especially against someone you claim to care for. Izzy acted like a jealous jerk in season one who bit off more than he could chew and suffered horrifically for it, but later got embraced by the very community he hurt without ever even apologizing for shit. Again, that crew was dealing with their own major trauma and most of them managed to get over it super fast for Izzy's sake. In reality, it takes a lot more work than that. Was Izzy ever given that kind of chance to continue making amends/healing after the finale? He didn't need to, he'd already accomplished it. There was no indication from any of the crew that they held a grudge against him. And it was beautiful to see. ALSO: losing interest in the show because of Izzy's death is anyone's right and prerogative. It's always painful to lose a character you love/have projected onto/made into you blorbo/sympathize-empathize with/ and especially think was done dirty by the creators. The reason doesn't even particularly matter -- the pain is still real, and that's what matters. Maybe with that hint that Jenkins wants Con still involved, there is a bit of hope? Just please take into consideration about how you'd feel if your own narrative work didn't go the way someone wanted and you're sent hateful messages. ALSO: I know most of us are tired of seeing the 'Redemption Equals Death' trope or 'Death of the Mentor' trope. But... All. These. Tropes have been done before many times. This one especially makes the prick Ricky look really bad, the kind of person who wants to destroy the loving community they've built. ALSO: Con O'Neill is fine as hell and a man of many talents. Would personally love more of him, so still holding out for cameos in season three if we get it. Everyone has seen by now how Con O'Neill hopes we get it..

Source ...and how he at least seems to be at peace with Izzy's death:

Source ...unless 'Con, luv. You ok? Blink twice if you need help.' LAST THING: Like I said in another post - nothing is perfect, but for a season of eight, twenty-five minute episodes of a dark comedy (or in fact many forms of comedy) that has no guarantee of a third season and suffered from major budget cuts, the creators did an amazing job giving us things like epic parties, weddings, mythological creatures, ghostly apparitions, magic, sword fighting, as well as Izzy's arc, gorgeous Gentlebeard moments, hilarious crew escapades, clever guest cameos, badass allies/frenemies, and intriguing antagonists. Plus, the effects, the costumes, the makeup, the sounds and sights were simply glorious. Just because the last bite might have left an unpleasant taste doesn't inherently mean the chefs (scrambling for ingredients, time, and rearranging the recipe so it could make some semblance of sense within a deadline pressured by the restaurant owners and hungry customers) were trying to sabotage the entire meal or that it was a culinary disgrace.

It's cilantro, if ya know the reputation of cilantro, without the genetic factor. Some love it, others hate it. Nothing wrong with not liking cilantro. Cuz yeah, it fuckin tastes like soap.

Written before The Collider interview, but wanted to post it anyway.

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #ofmd s2

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 21

CW: Injury, blood AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 10. 20. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannah-heartstrings, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster @mr-orion

The Kass-whatever-the-hell-it-was-called has apparently not given chase. There's no crashing in the undergrowth but her. It's odd, she thinks; she feels certain that it could have hunted her down if it wanted to… But then she is stumbling out of the bushes and crawling through a hole in the chicken-wire fence and onto a brick-laid alley at the back of City Hall. And, gods above, she wants to stop and take a breather, but the other fairytale creature is jostling her upright with cajoling words about not dying in the gutter like a rat. It feels like it takes ages for the creature's words to seep through the pain and reach some survivalist part of her mind, and anyway, she's distracted by the thing. It has dark brown skin like hers, but some kind of condition makes it appear in whorls and ridges that seem familiar but she can't place it right now. It has mottled green hair and is dressed in a short green tunic of soft-looking cloth, clinched at the waist by a wide leather belt. "What are you?" she asks it. 🙢Alas, there is not the time to explain,🙡 it says, as it shoves her to her feet. "Do you have a name?" 🙢Willowsprout, Atnešė,🙡 it says. Legnok slings her arm over its shoulders and hauls her upright. Between the two of them, they drag her towards the corner of the alley, to where the light from City Hall spills onto the crowd milling in quiet panic, surrounded by cop cars and blood wagons. «Youse think you can make it on your own from here?» Legnok says. «Only, we's gotta skedaddle now.» 🙢Apologies, you'll have to manage from here,🙡 says Willowsprout. 🙢We can't let the twicelings see us.🙡 "Yeah," Elo says. "Sure. I'll manage." The two creatures melt into the shadows. «Remember your promise!» says Legnok. "Yeah, yeah," she mumbles. "I see either of you again, I'll buy you more than a cup of joe. A beer for each. Blood, bark, bond, et cetera."

And then she is stumbling into the edge of the crowd, and someone cries out at the sight of her. "Sergeant O'Toreguarde," she says, with a hiccup. "Checking in."

She sways on her feet, and someone is calling for a medic and someone else is practically carrying her to a bench and someone is trying to ask her what the hell happened to her. "Sniper," she says, because even in her own head that is more sensible than a giant man made of shadow with an incomprehensible name wielding a massive sword made of ice. "Got away," she adds, because otherwise people might start assuming she got whoever fired those shots and demand to see a corpse because no one in their right mind would let a sniper get away with shooting into a crowd of the most highly decorated and influential people in her city without some retribution. And then the crowd of people milling around her is swiftly moving to the side and she thinks she's seeing triple, because there are three large, angry-looking gentlemen bearing down on her – though when Strucker got here, and why Clayrmantle is shorter she doesn't understand – and they are all talking over each other in their morbid excitement and she cannot think and they are so loud and for all their loudness she cannot hear what they are saying and "SHUT! UP!" There is almost instant silence, and it ripples out from her in a wave as everyone in the whole damn plaza is suddenly very quiet. "You three– Just hush for a moment," she tells them. "I can't answer your ninety-mile-an-hour questions if you keep jabbering over each other. You're supposed to be rulers, not over-excited puppies, now bloody act like it and shut up so I can speak." She pulls in a breath, winces at the pain in her side, and lets it out again. "I'm fine. Well. I'm not fine. I've been cut. He had a sword. But I'm mostly fine. Despite the fact I'm wearing a stupid, nonsensical, now ruined, dress, I'm mostly fine. I went back to help with evac, lost my footing and fell off the terrace. Which is stupid, I know, but I nearly ate a bullet, and it saved my life, so, there's that. But I interrupted the sniper fleeing, and he didn't like that, so we had a bit of a tussle, and he stabbed me, and got away. I'm sorry, I screwed up, I should have waited for backup, I wasn't thinking. But I'm here and I'm still alive and fine. Mostly." She stops, thinks for a moment. "Could someone get me a very large glass of rum?" And then, despite her hurts, somehow she is being embraced by all three of them. She squeals as the pain in her side shoots through her again. "Alright, get away from her you feckless beasties," Merri is saying, and physically pulls Strucker away followed by Clayrmantle. She is a little more deferential to her king, but not by much, tapping him heavily on the shoulder and ordering him away a second time.

Then Merri is knelt next to the bench, a med kit out and something cold and alcoholic and oh dear fuck that burns, and Elo thought they were friends is being swiped over the rent in her flesh. She grits her teeth, eyes screwed tight, and yells as Merri repeats the activity, the cold stinging swipe getting less with each pass. Then something warm and dry is being pressed to the wound. "Andersen! Check if one of those ambulances is free, aye? Strucker, put pressure on this," Merri demands, as the medic wraps a bandage around Elo's waist, holding the dressing in place. Elo keeps her eyes closed – she cannot look, but this has happened enough times to either herself or one of their teammates in the Special Forces that she doesn't need to look, she knows exactly the procedure that Merri is following. When Merri sits back and puts a tired hand on Elo's knee, Elo takes a breath and marvels at her friend's quick work. "You need to go to hospital, cridhe," Merri says, accent thickening in worry. "This is just a patch-job, you understand? It needs stitches and a proper clean." Johan plucks a leaf out of Elo's hair. "All of her needs a proper clean." And Elo's best friend in the whole world squints up at her, a snarky grin on her face, and says, "We could dip her in a canal. Quickest and easiest way to get all that muck off her, eh?" Elo tries to snort a laugh but the action sends sparks of pain through her. "Easy, easy," Merri cautions, even as she's grinning unrepentantly. She runs her hands over Elo's frame. "Mer!" Elo says, mock scandalised. "Your betrothed is around here somewhere." Even if her tone is teasing, Elo can't quite fight down the flush in her cheeks. "Oh, shush. I'm checking you for more wounds. What's this?" Merri's hand has come away tacky from Elo's arm. "I dunno." Then Elo remembers. "I got bit by something?" Merri is back with that cold and stinging alcohol, swabbing the area. Then she gasps and swears in Icelandic. "You got bit by a fucking bullet. Thor's balls, you're lucky."

"What about everyone else?" Elo manages, after Merri has finished dealing with the scrape left by the bullet that nearly killed the King. She hasn't seen Yoruk or the Exchequer; while she's more worried about Yoruk, she has to at least pretend to be concerned about one of the Triumvirate. The light is hazy and too bright, she's inches away from falling asleep right on the bench, but she still has to know. "Your Acting Magister there, he caught a shot to the leg, but the bullet didn't do much damage. There were a few lacerations from falling glass, bruises and sprains from people fleeing and fighting each other in their haste, but aside from that, no. You're the only one who's taken any bad damage." "Good," is all Elo can think to say. "And when you're more lucid," Merri's voice drops to a dangerous growl, "you are going to get a refresher on how one performs close personal protection, and the correct procedures to follow during a sniper shooting." Elo giggles. She can't help herself. The titter comes out before she can stop it, and this time it won't be tamped down. "I knew this would happen," Elo says, gasping her laughter. "Y'all're gonna have to take a number." Merri gives her a confused glare. "Make an appointment, y'know?" "Appointments– What?" "So y'all get your chance to yell at me. Gotta have a booking slot, make it nice and orderly." Elo cackles again, clears her throat and tries to sound serious. "It'll have to be first come first serve, I won't make preference for rank or title." The pretence doesn't last long as she dissolves into hiccuping giggles. Merri stares, frowning, mouth agape. Then her eyes squeeze shut and she gives an incredulous shake of the head, following it up by yelling, "Anderssen! Where the fuck is my ambulance?" Elo's eyes snap open. "What, no, I'm not going–" "The fuck you're not. Did you not hear me? You need more than field medicine." "–I'm on duty." Storri turns sharply. "You're relieved, Sargent." "But–" Johan crouches down in front of her, gently touches her cheek until she's staring into those cloudy blue depths. "You're going to the hospital. No ifs, buts, or maybes. I will sling you over my shoulder if I have to, but you are going." Merri, she notices, has courageously abandoned her to being bullied by these leaders of, of – men, dwarves and elves – people. People! Just people, nothing else. Bloody fairy stories. "Elo, are you listening to me? I have lost one daughter this week to some greater cosmic accident and I will not lose another through stubbornness and thick-headedness. Do I make myself clear, young lady? I have lost my Evelyn. I will not lose my Elowyn too." And that's it. Elo's eyes mist up and the tears start dripping down her face and Johan's arms are around her as she quietly sobs into his shoulder.

#oc elowyn o'toreguarde #npc johan strucker #pc meredith gruksdottir #writing #HCWL Chapters only #WIP 'Her Countenance was Light' #titan fighting fantasy #fighting fantasy #ttrpg fanfiction #wandering words

[reneesbooks]

wip intro - salt and brine

oh shit oh fuck. i uh. i had an idea for a short story about a side character's parents and uh. i got a little invested so fuck it i'm gonna write it.

genre: romance

status: drafting. it's going to be a short story i swear <- we all know i'm a liar by now. draft 0 is done and marinating. currently editing

summary: Meja is used to her life. She has her five-year-old daughter, Reijka, her bright spot through her husband's dark moods. She has the cove where she sets the traps, her place of refuge. She is strong, and nothing can really hurt her.

Then an outsider washes into her cove with a storm, and her world thrown to the tides. Tradition states that she should kill him herself for intruding on their land, but she can't bring herself to do it, nor can she let the hypothermia take him. She hides him in her cellar, nurses him back to health under Stian's nose, and drags him back to the cove when he is well enough. She plans to send him on his way and never speak of this unfortunate incident again.

But he keeps coming back to the cove.

Kamon isn't sure what to think about the silent Hass woman that saved him on that rocky beach. He'd expected her to kill him, then expected her husband to kill him. But she'd saved him, and then refused to let him save her in return and take her with him away from her shouting husband and fading bruises. So he keeps returning to the cove, even if she still won't speak to an outsider like him. Even if all she ever gives him are silent, longing looks--he keeps coming back to the cove.

picrew

clockwise from top left-- Meja, Kamon, Stian, and Reijka. this does take place in the same world as the raedoran cycle, though it happens in one of the other countries and doesn't connect to the main plot at all. however it is going to take over my brain until i write it and i'm dragging all y'all with me.

tag: salt and brine

snippet:

She picks her way carefully over a few new pieces of driftwood. A storm had blown through late the night before, and apparently it carried through more than just rough seas. Meja sighs. Half her traps will be ruined, if the amount of debris on the beach is any indication.

A weak groan echoes from one of the piles of driftwood and Meja's head snaps up.

“Hello?” she calls. She drops the ice from her lip so that she has both hands free to grab a large stick in one and a large rock in the other. “Is someone there?”

She steps over one of the chunks of driftwood and her eyes widen in shock. There is a man lying on the rocky beach, his tattered sailors' uniform soaked and clinging to his amber skin. His arm is looped around one of the driftwood branches, as if he'd held onto it until it carried him to shore. His head lolls back and another pitiful groan escapes his lips.

An outsider. Meja freezes, her fingers clenching around the rock and stick in her hands. He is alive, awake, even, limbs twitching as consciousness returns to them. She stands there dumbly as he rolls onto his side and coughs, seawater spilling from his lips.

He collapses against the ground again, his breathing shallow, and Meja realizes that he's dying, his lips blue and fingers shaking. She sets down the rock and stick and takes another cautious step towards him. The outsider's eyes flicker to her for the first time and widen. He pushes himself up onto his elbows, feet scrabbling on the rocky beach, but quickly collapses against the ground again, his painful, ragged breathing devolving into a hacking cough.

Meja should walk away. He is an outsider, an intruder. She should kill him for daring to be on Hass soil, for contaminating their land. But he looks scared. And with how blue his fingertips are, he will die soon without help.

She kneels next to him and he flinches back. She slips the shawl off her shoulders and wraps it around him, then her fingers around his wrist. His dark eyes are wide looking up at her and she wonders if she is being the biggest fool to ever live, doing this.

She tugs him to his feet. He stumbles and she steadies him, allowing him to lean on her. He tries to ask her a question, his hoarse voice struggling to form the common tongue, but she ignores him. She starts to walk back towards the house and he stumbles alongside her.

This is a bad idea. Stian will be home and will kill you both. You can't do this.

She ignores the voice in her head too and focuses on putting one foot in front of the other. She couldn't just leave this man to die on the shore. She'll help him recover, then send him back to wherever he came from. Soon this will all be a strange story to never tell another soul, something to dream of late at night when Stian is asleep and she is tending her bruises.

Reijka is still asleep when they reach the house. Meja pulls the outsider to the cellar door and shuts them inside. He collapses into a sitting position against the wall, coughing weakly. She lights the lantern with trembling fingers. She has a few blankets stashed behind the crates of food, in case a bad enough storm blows through that they have to shelter here. She turns to the outsider with one and wraps it around his shoulders, then crouches down to pull off his soaked boots. He doesn't protest and she wraps another of the blankets around his feet.

She makes enough space behind the crates for him to lay down. Stian never comes down here, and he won't be visible from the doorway. As long as he's quiet, she'll be able to hide him long enough for him to get better. She heats up a few large stones in the fire while she builds up the courage to strip him of the rest of his wet clothes. They'll keep him cold, slow his recovery, but she's not sure he's able to do it himself yet. He barely moved as she laid him down in his hiding place, his eyelashes fluttering.

The stones are warm enough. She puts out the fire and lifts them out, carrying them down to the cellar. The outsider has managed to pull his shirt most of the way off, and she can see his trousers tangled around his ankles. He yanks the blanket over himself again and she quickly averts her eyes, her cheeks burning with shame.

After a few sharp breaths, she turns back and helps him pull the shirt and trousers the rest of the way off. She hangs them to dry along the back wall, cloaked in shadows, and moves the stones so that they surround the outsider, offering warmth. She gets another blanket and throws it over him. His eyes are following her sleepily. Good. He'll need to sleep to heal, now that he's warm enough.

She steps back and puts a finger to her lips. The outsider nods, his eyelids drifting shut. Meja exhales slowly, watching him slip into a deep sleep.

What the hell did I just do?

taglist (ask to be added! <3): @oh-no-another-idea

#yes i am still working on thieves i am simply also writing this. like a palette cleanser. #in case ur wondering this all happened bc arthur was getting chatty with a barkeep and accidentally convinced her to tell him her backstory #original fiction #short story #writeblr #writeblr community #salt and brine #rb original #meja seeing a hot but half-dead sailor wash up on her beach: this is fine. this won't affect my life even a little #kamon waking up to see a hass woman standing over him with a rock and a stick: ah fuck i'm going to die

[eway]

So um...I was listening to this

And I thought of a one shot to write. So I did. Here it is. It'll go on fanfiction.net tonight. I literally wrote it as I was thinking it up so sorry if it's bad

My name is Link. Though most here call me Young Link. I am 11 years old, and have gone through enough for grown adults to freak out. I'm not the only kid here though. There's quite a few. I consider them my friends. But they all have their scars…some worse than others. The only kid whose got near as many as me is Lucas. Most adults know this, they call us brave, strong. But they don't quite understand. The only ones who DO understand the trauma were there for it. Well, there are two adults I'd say understand. Samus and Lucina. Samus is in her late 20s, Lucina is 20. Neither had a childhood. Lucina grew up in an apocalypse. And Samus, well, she had her biological family taken from her, and later her adoptive one.

I don't want these kids getting more scars. I feel their pain. It's why I often go to them during their nightmares…

"What's going on? Stop stop stop I can't grasp whats going on!"

"NO! PLEASE CLAUS YOU DON'T NEED TO DIE!"

"HOLD ON NANA DON'T FALL!"

"POPO I'M SLIPPING!"

"NO! SNAP OUT OF IT! ITS DARK MATTER!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA LADY PALUTENA! VIRIDI! PITTOO! SOMEONE ANYONE! MY WINGS THEY WON'T STOP BURNING!"

"I…I don't want to…die like this…let go you…you stupid bug…it's all going dark…help me…"

"NO PLEASE! I NEED TO GET THE POKÉMON CENTER! NO NO!"

"ARYLL! NOOOOOO!"

"PAPA PLEASE CALM DOWN!"

"WILY! WHY ARE…WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!? PLEASE!"

"NO STOP GET THAT GOOP AWAY I NEED TO HELP 8 NO-"

"The darkness! I-I need to fight it!"

I always go to comfort them when the nightmares come. No one should have gone through what we did. As for those women, they hide things better. Lucina generally takes walks after waking up from a nightmare, and goes to train. Pikachu has to tell me when Samus had a nightmare.

Usually to calm everyone down, I get someone they trust from their universe who went on whatever "adventure" caused this. For some this isn't an option. So I stay with them as long as they need. Not to say I don't help the others. I usually calm them down until they can get to someone they know.

Villager is interesting. He seems to crave an adventure, we're like heroes to him. I envy his innocence. Still, just because I'm scarred doesn't mean he should be. As with the others, I try to protect him.

Their are many threats in smash. Most don't have their enemies in smash though, so that's good. But that doesn't mean their aren't problems.

Ness' cousin Ninten apparently told him about Gigyas' original form, Giegue. So when the Melee tournament happened, and Ness met MewTwo…the nightmares were unintentionally projected to everyone nearby…I can say that Gigyas may be more terrifying than Majora…

Lucas fighting MegaMan is never good. He freezes, unable to attack. He always looks so…broken

Lucina had a panic attack seeing Zombie for the first time. She kept it hidden, but I could tell. Shaky hands, a more brutal fighting style, shaky breath.

Samus was a wreck after Ridley joined. She wouldn't leave her room, even when we had to go to another Hotel.

When Kirby heard his fan wrote a story about him, he was happy. When everyone died in the story, he was a mess. The idea of everyone dying and him needing to save them…that much pressure. Pointing out plotholes in the fic helped, but not much. He was practically attached to Meta Knight

And let's not forget the Heroes vs. Villains Splatfest. Each group was stuck with their group until it ended. Whoever decided Dark Pit was a villain…has my hatred. Especially when there was a fight the splatfest, since they now had leverage over a goddess. I shouldn't enjoy stabbing Ganondorf so much haha. Poor Dark Pit was hurt though, pretty badly too. Guess that's what happens when someone with morals is stuck with villains and unable to escape, and severely weakened because in this realm, we have to be weaker for the fights to be somewhat fair.

I'm still a kid. And I frequently have my trauma resurface. But I guess, if there's one thing I've learned, what goes around comes around. Whenever I have a nightmare, I wake up to my friends, all there to comfort me…they all also like to spend time with me. Everything I do for them, they do for me, even Bowser Jr! I guess I just…wasn't prepared for that. Things are way less doom and gloom. We can do…semi normal kid stuff. We can…kinda…have childhoods!

I'd give up my life to protect any of them. Is that normal? Maybe it is when you lose everyone you've ever cared about. I cannot see Saria anymore, The Great Deku Tree died, Navi left. Only Zelda remains. I gotta admit, I maaaay have a thing for her. But that's off topic. My point is, as long as I am around, I will protect my friends. I won't let them suffer as much as me…

#My Fics #Smash Fic #Young Link #eway talks

[supernaturalfreewill]

My love, I'm very sorry. I can very painfully understand. It's been months now and I'm still crushed every time I think of her.

I suddenly lost my baby girl Mocha on July 22 last year. She was only 4 and the love of my life. I was at work and missed many calls from my mom and she eventually reached me through calling the hospital I work at and getting transferred to the OR I was working in. Our girl, who was her normal cheery self the night before, hadn't wanted to eat when she woke up that morning so my mom had looked at her gums and they were nearly white. She rushed her to our vet and her red blood cell levels were at 13 when they should have been high 30s into 40s.

Apparently border collies can have underlying hemolytic anemia that gets triggered around the age of 4. Her red blood cells there dying faster than her body could make them. We got her blood transfusions and it barely touched her red cell count. We had gotten her to 18 and the vets had us take her home for the night around 3 am, hoping that resting at home would take the tiny bump and start generating red cells again then we would come back and check in the morning around 11.

When we woke up in the morning, she was breathing heavy and more lethargic so we took her in. It was only 7 am. In those 4 hours, her count when back down to 11 this time. At this point she had already had two transfusions and the vets said they could do another but there was no guarentee of positive outcomes.

We were transferred to our vet research center that had specialists for internal medicine and they presented us with only one other option. There is apparently a treatment that requires a machine that would essentially take out all of her blood to destroy the antigens before replacing it. It would have been a minimum 2 week treatment and baseline 30,000 dollars with a very slim likelihood of actual improvement. And if it were successful, there was still a significant chance of relapse. Essentially, if we did the treatment, she would likely still die and she would have spent the rest of her life away from us, alone in a cage, hooked up to tubes and wires. I couldn't do that to her.

She was so tired and even when she had no energy she still moved to lay on me and comfort me when I was crying because I couldn't save her. We eventually decided we had to let her go because we couldn't keep putting her through pain just so we could have a little more time.

I'm crying writing this because it's so unfair. I'm so sorry you lost Aldo. He was so incredibly lucky to have someone as amazing as you as his mom. I'm so sorry you had to go through something so awful and lose your friend. I know it's been some months, but don't ever feel bad about missing him. You deserve to miss such an important part of your life. And anyone who says otherwise doesn't understand the love and bond we can form with animals. ❤ I highly recommend getting a stuffy that looks like him to cuddle at night or getting blankets with some of your favorite pictures of him printed on it. Those are some of the things I had to do to bring myself some comfort and it's nice to have something to hold on the nights I miss her. ❤❤❤

Yeah okay, sobbing here. Our babies went close together. I lost Aldo on July 24th. You did the best thing for your baby girl and I'm so sorry you lost her so soon too and had to go through that and make such a hard decision. <3 We never get enough time with our beloved pets, so losing them young is extra hard. I actually am getting a pup soon from the same breeder I got Aldo from. Momma lab, who happens to look a lot like Aldo, is expecting in 4 days so fingers crossed there will be enough pups for me to bring a new friend home soon. One thing that has really helped, was getting a pendant that I put some of Aldo's ashes in. Getting back to hiking was hard because I was used to having Kuma and Aldo along as my adventuring buddies. At least this way I can still carry him with me. We sign up for the heart break every time with a beloved pet because they just unfairly don't live as long as us, but it's worth it for all the love we get.

#grief #pet loss

[starmora]

First I want to say you have probably hit on and shared all of the nuances around issues with Gamora's treatment in the mcu since Infinity War better than a lot of people. It's applause worthy really. The way you understand the importance of her relationship to Peter, to Nebula and the team. The way you understand why her death actually wasn't done well. All of it and I'm probably going to be reading everything multiple times. Thank you for showing Gamora grace and love when the movies haven't always done that.

Secondly someone sent you a comment about the creep song in vol 3 and how that looks compared to Gamora's treatment. I think their comment points out exactly why I can't let go quite yet about what the movie did and didn't do. There is almost a the cruelty is the point element to how when 2014 Gamora shows back up she's basically a non entity to some of the guardians. It's like she doesn't even exist as a human being to them anymore. This alone would be upsetting but they also act as if 2018 Gamora didn't really exist either. There's something chilling about a movie so overt in showing pain and suffering and how horrifying that is and then when you look at 2018 Gamora it doesn't even acknowledge her pain and suffering. It's also cruel to 2014 Gamora because even though she at first really doesn't want to hear about the Gamora who died or what it was like before, how must it be for her to see all these other people who apparently knew her too and were her family and they appear as if they feel nothing about her. The whole situation was uncomfortable and hard but it must have been so lonely and emotionally isolating to be stuck with a group of people where this dynamic is playing out.

This is also why I'm still not quite over Gunn's comments about real family. He placed Gamora in an emotionally taxing position where she hardly knew anyone, had very little support, she had to take on the responsibilities with these people, see some of their raw moments and just as she's opening up to it and more comfortable he's hinting that she doesn't belong. Like most of that experience didn't count for much of anything. That seems really cruel to me. Which when you switch gears and look back on all the things 2018 Gamora had done before with the guardians and all the ways that was ignored in vol 3, makes the cruelty even more visible. Is he really saying nothing she does counts and has any lasting importance. Or is he just blind to how it looks. Because it doesn't look or sound all that great.

I'm learning to make peace and I'll move on and I know we all will. But I'm not understanding how more people don't see any of this or when they do they either think it's fine or use it as a weapon against Gamora. Even on a critics level I don't understand why there's not more pushback. Do people really think all the writing around this was good. I know some of it is but lots of it isn't. At the very least how isn't anyone questioning why only Nebula and Peter, and mainly Peter were shown to have feelings about her dying. Plus people really aren't praising her role either so surely more people than just us die hard Gamora fans know something isn't right.

Thank you 🫶 I get a LOT of pushback for it and I have for years, but I love this character so much that I’ll aggressively protect her especially when it seems like no one else will. I’m just glad to know I’m not alone out there in feeling like something is just not right with how she’s been treated.

People can continue to try and explain away the “real family” comment to me as many times as they’d like but I just don’t see how no one can seem to grasp that it doesn’t matter what his intention in saying it was when we’ve seen firsthand how quick people have been to try and disregard her completely and his comment of her having a “real”, separate family from the guardians has done nothing to blur this line in the sand people have drawn. Nothing he’s done, both on Twitter and explicitly in the movie has done much to make it seem like she’s allowed to be part of this family. She’s been excluded everywhere, even down to the kids toys at mcdonalds and no one seems bothered by it because it’s so so EASY to just write her off and exclude her when everyone else does it in the movie besides Peter. There’s so much more they could have done with her and even though Zoe acted her ass off and did a fantastic job it’ll just always bother me how much of an afterthought her character seemed to be this time around.

#callie.txt #answered #anonymous #Gamora deserved better

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

I posted 6,981 times in 2022

That's 6,204 more posts than 2021!

274 posts created (4%)

6,707 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thegayhimbo

@ramadiiiisme

@rayslittlekitten

@newyorkrican922

@breanime

I tagged 571 of my posts in 2022

#sons of anarchy - 166 posts

#fluff - 158 posts

#jax teller - 133 posts

#sons of anarchy imagine - 128 posts

#soa - 113 posts

#mayans mc - 100 posts

#sons of anarchy fluff - 91 posts

#ivar the boneless - 71 posts

#vikings - 70 posts

#mayans mc imagine - 66 posts

Longest Tag: 86 characters

#one kid who had was never away came to school sick and almost put other kids in the er

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Rest Your Weary Hands Part 7

Here comes the comfort.

Part 6

Contains: Bruises and a beating not graphic, unwanted arranged marriage, violence, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, the bad guys get what's coming to them.

1,950 words

Comment to be tagged

Queen Aslaug walks into your little Healers store with one request, help her son. Said to be blessed by the gods, you find your life becoming more and more intertwined with the young prince as you do your best to ease his pain. It will soon be apparent that outside forces have other ideas.

The bird followed him around everywhere, anytime he tried to leave Kattegat it would attack him until he turned around and went back. Aslaug had told him to wait four days, that the gods had shown her a vision that if he went before then, something terrible would happen. So he did, he spent his time pacing and sharpening his weapons.

He was woken on the fourth day to squawking in Ubbe's room, the bird had left his side and turned to his Brother. Ivar got dressed as fast as he could, he didn't even bother putting on his braces, choosing to crawl to save on time.

When he opened the door the scene that greeted him was comical, this birds was hovering over Ubbe while he dressed, if he took too long the bird would swoop down and peck him.

"I'm coming, I can only dress so fast with you at me!" By the time Ubbe was done, it looked like he had lost of battle, his hair was a mess and half his clothes were inside out or backwards.

"I'm coming with you, I have to speak to y/n before you bring her back to Kattegat." The bird let out a terrible shriek and flew at his face. He ducked out of the way before it hit him.

"I think you should stay, that is if you want to keep your eyes."

Bjorn was waiting by the door when Ubbe walked in. He was dressed to leave but he and his Mother were meant to be staying in Kattegat for the next week. He looked like he hadn't slept at all.

Nightmares

"I think Father is trying to tell us something."

They rode as hard as they could, the Berserker who was Aslaug's personal guard had asked to come as well. He had grown very fond of you. You had noticed how much time he spent by the horses when he wasn't working and when no one was around, you had taken to calling him 'Leif the Gentle' rather than 'Leif the brutish'.

There were armed men outside when they rode up. It was clear they weren't happy that anyone was here, let alone the Sons of Ragnar.

"You should leave, she's busy." Ubbe was too mad to react at first so Bjorn cut in.

"You will let us through or you will be in the mines by the end of the week." He put his hand on his sword for emphasis.

When they walked in you had your backs to them, and you were hunched up like you were hurt.

"Please go, you can't be here." You sounded ill.

"Turn around Dove, we're here to take you back to Kattegat." You did so very slowly, your eyes cast down the whole time.

You were covered in bruises and there were scrapes on your cheek, you were breathing like your ribs were broken and you were pale and washed out.

"What in the Hel happened to you?!" you flinched at the Ubbe's raised voice but gave no other indication that you heard him.

"It doesn't matter, I will be fine. You should go, unless someone is dying there's no need for you to be here." you wiped a tear from your face.

"I'm sad to say this will be the last time we see each other. I am to be wed next Sunday." You held up your hand to show a ring on your finger, it was gaudy and hideous. The only Jewellery you wore was the Eir necklace that hung around your neck, and even then, it was tucked into your top most of the time.

"To whom?!" Ubbe was shocked, you had expressed before that you had no desire to marry.

"Earl Knut's Son Brant." The men were looking back and forth from you to each other.

"The morning I got home, my Father informed me that somehow his debt had been paid in full. I have outlived my usefulness and now he is getting rid of me. It turns out that at least to Brant, I am worth quite a lot of money." You paused to take a sip of something from a mug.

See the full post

200 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

#4

Rest Your Weary Hands Part 4

I made Aslaug and Lagertha friends because everyone lives and no one dies and women being good to other women makes me happy. However, Ragnar is dead because I need it that way for the plot, he will still show up and that's all I'm saying.

Part 3

Requests are open

Warnings: Paying gambling debts through labour, stitching up wounds, Ubbe turns into a big brother bear. Brief mentions of child and talks of spousal abuse.

2,659 words

Comment if you want to be tagged.

Queen Aslaug walks into your little Healers store with one request, help her son. Said to be blessed by the gods, you find your life becoming more and more intertwined with the young prince as you do your best to ease his pain. It will soon be apparent that outside forces have other ideas.

"Prince Ubbe, what brings you here today?" You were surprised to see the Prince today, Aslaug had been in the day before to collect more tea for Ivar, so unless something was very wrong with his younger Brother, he didn't really have a reason to be here.

He lifted up his shirt to show you a bruise that spread across his body's left side.

"I fell off my horse." he grimaced as he walked closer to the counter.

"Oh my, come in the back and I'll get you taken care of."

It wasn't terrible, he didn't have any broken bones but you could feel the lumpy bruises under his skin.

"How's Ivar doing?" you were dipping bandages in some strong smelling fluid while Ubbe looked around your back room. It wasn't much, just a small bed and some shelves that were filled with various things, including lots of scrolls; there were also some surgical tools were soaking in a basin in the far corner of the room.

"Well, he has been complaining of more pain but he seems better in himself." he flinched as you wrapped the soaked bandages around his body then relaxed as he felt the coolness settle into his aching ribs.

"I'll see if I can come up with something else to help him, it almost always harder to treat something when it's been with them since birth." To be honest, you were very surprised with how well Ivar was taking it all, you were starting to wonder if he and his Mother knew something you didn't.

"These won't take long to heal. Nothing more than a light trot on your horse until they're entirely gone, I can't promise your ribs will hold out for another fall. I don't care how long it takes you to get back home." You realised you should have said please and been more respectful but part of you felt that Ubbe would appreciate being treated like a normal person.

"Of course Dove, something tells me that disobeying you would be worse than falling off the horse again."

You gave him a very stern look, yes it would be.

"I'll give you some tea to take for the next few days for the swelling, drink it with food or it will give you a stomach ache, and come back when they're gone so I can make sure I didn't miss anything deeper."

He already seemed a little better, although he looked a bit funny with his shirt bludging in some areas.

"As for Ivar, you can try this, but I think it will make him feel too strange. I usually leave it for when I need to treat a severe injury and can't have the person moving around."

You showed Ubbe the small compressed cake, it was about the size of a medium mushroom cap and mottled brown.

"Only give him this amount, and put it in some hot water. It will be very bitter so he can have a spoonful of honey afterwards."

You showed Ubbe a small broken hunk, and put it up against your finger so he could understand the rough size.

"Thank you, Dove. Mother asked me to tell you she will be here on Sunday to come and collect you to spend more time with Ivar, she's very happy with how much he improved when you were there."

You were coming to the conclusion that Aslaug had a plan you were unaware of, Ivar shouldn't need you back for at least another week.

"Of course Prince Ubbe, I'll be ready when she arrives that morning."

You suppose you were grateful you were so good at your job. Your Father's gambling debts were always bad, more so when your Mother died, but the small amount of profit you made kept the debt collectors happy until the end of the week.

The owners of the gambling houses in the area realised that he was a problem and was always going to be behind, but they also realised that he wasn't getting his money by working.

See the full post

219 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

#3

Rest Your Weary Hands Part 1

Prologue

Requests are open

Warnings: The reader is an overworked health professional, mentions of a bad diet, brief mentions of gambling, proper health care (screw the capitalist health care system), time period typical treatment of women and girls.

1,467 Words

Comment if you want to be tagged.

Queen Aslaug walks into your little Healers store with one request, help her son. Said to be blessed by the gods, you find your life becoming more and more intertwined with the young prince as you do your best to ease his pain. It will soon be apparent that outside forces have other ideas.

"Clip clop, clip clop, clip clop"

You could hear the sound of horses close by, more than a couple. You hoped it wasn't the local stable owner, he had enough money that he could just buy medicine with he felt sick rather than do what you told him.

Maybe if you ate a carrot every now and then rather than all that meat, you wouldn't have a constant stomach ache.

You could see them through the window now, that was not the local stable owner.

You rushed to the door to open it before they got here. It was Lady Asluag, her son Ubbe and some of her men.

You went out of your way to act like they were anyone else, while inside, it felt like you had swallowed a nettle bush.

"Welcome My Queen, Price Ubbe. What brings you to my store today?"

They walked in and looked around. The space wasn't tiny, but it wasn't large either, there was a wood bench with ingredients dotted along it, behind which was a small kitchenette, a small table and two chairs, plants in pots hung from the ceiling and were scattered around the room and the room was filled with light due to the many windows.

"I'm sure you've heard of my youngest Son?" she was looking at you like you were a stone in the road and she was figuring out how to get past you.

"Only that he suffers with terrible pain, is that why you're here?" she nodded, more interested in the flowering plant in the conner than you.

"Yes, I spoke to Ulf this morning and he says you work miracles" you were already reaching behind you to get something off the shelf.

"Oh no, only Christians believe in miracles. I simply use what the Gods give us from the land" She looked at you right in the eyes and smiled.

So that was a test

She took a good look at you, focusing on the tie in your hair, it was the same one from her dream.

"No charge this time around, rub it on Ivar's legs twice a day when he, gets up and when he goes to bed, a small handful each time, if it starts to smell or turn a strange colour, throw it out and come and get more, it should stay fresh for 2 months but keep the jar away from the fire."

Ubbe spoke for the first time.

"No charge? he seemed confused.

"Yes, no charge. You have no idea if it works and I will not swindle anyone. If you wish to pay for it, do it when you come to get more" The Queen looked slightly perturbed at that.

"Right then, thank you miss, I'm sure we'll be back soon" she was turning on her heels and leaving your store the moment she stopped speaking, Ubbe stayed a breath longer.

"Do you have a name, Dove?" You wanted to glare and him but you knew better.

"Y/n, My Prince" and with that, he was gone.

"Tora tells me the Queen was here today" your Father's tone was accusatory as usual.

"Yes Father, she was. She just wanted something for her Son. And no, I don't have any more coins, you will have to wait till the end of the week to visit the gambling house again."

See the full post

240 notes - Posted March 21, 2022

#2

Rest Your Weary Hands Masterlist

You will not able to read any chapters marked with smut unless you have your community labels all turned to show.

Contains: Discussion of chronic pain and genetic illness, war and combat, period typical misogyny and treatment of women and girls, a lot of smut, disability and ableism, gambling addition, graphic depictions of violence and death, human sacrifice. I will do my best to tag chapter by chapter, please let me know if I miss anything.

You should expect that each chapter could have a bit of everything, if it's tagged it just means it's more than one sentence. More than one emoji dictates how graphic it is.

Smut💦 Angst😨 Fluff ❤ Violence🔪 Gore🤢 Medical 💉Triggering material🚩

Some of the chapters and snippets will be put to music, not listening to the music won't affect the story. Updates will vary, some days I might do two and other times I'll go a week without posting anything, there will be a time where I will open requests for snippets so you as the reader can have a piece of the universe I've cobbled together.

What's a snippet?

A snippet is an optional one-shot that adds context to the story and expands on some small themes that will appear throughout the story, not reading them won't affect the story but it will take away some of the more fluffy and/or mundane 'day in the life' elements.

Queen Aslaug walks into your little Healers store with one request, help her son. Said to be blessed by the gods, you find your life becoming more and more intertwined with the young prince as you do your best to ease his pain. It will soon be apparent that outside forces have other ideas.

Prologue

Part 1 💉

Part 2 💉

Part 3 😨❤💉

Part 4 😨

Part 5 😨❤

Part 6 😨

Part 7 ❤ 🔪 😨🚩

Part 8 💦❤

Part 9 ❤ 🔪 💦

Part 10 😨❤

Part 11 ❤ 🔪 💉😨

Part 12 💦❤

Snippet 1 - Fierce Protector ❤💉🔪

Part 13 💦❤

Part 14 ❤❤❤❤❤

Part 15 💦💦❤❤💦

Part 16 💦❤❤

Snippet 2 - Little Sister ❤❤❤❤❤

Part 17 💉 🔪 🔪 🔪 🤢 ❤ (only a little)

Part 18 ❤❤💦

See the full post

466 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

The Reaper and the Death Angel Masterlist.

You will not be able to read certain chapters in this series without all your Community labels turned to show.

Contains: The slowest burn, canon typical misogyny, canon typical violence and graphic depictions of violence, so much fucking smut (in later chapters of course), mentions of child abuse, graphic descriptions of bullying, forensic science. OC is a chronic pain/migraine sufferer, there will be themes of this throughout the story. There will be more and I'll do my best to tag chapter by chapter, please don't hesitate to tell me if I've missed something.

You should expect that each chapter could have a bit of everything, if it's tagged it just means it's more than one sentence. More than one emoji dictates how graphic it is.

Smut💦 Angst😨 Fluff ❤ Violence🔪 Gore🤢 Medical/forensic💉 Triggering material🚩

Some of the chapters and snippets will be put to music, not listening to the music won't affect the story. Updates will vary, some days I might do two and other times I'll go a week without posting anything, there will be a time where I will open requests for snippets so you as the reader can have a piece of the universe I've cobbled together.

What's a snippet?

A snippet is an optional one-shot that adds context to the story and expands on some small themes that will appear throughout the story, not reading them won't affect the story but it will take away some of the more fluffy and/or mundane 'day in the life' elements.

Comment if you want to be tagged. Thank you so always for all your support. However, my tag list has been having issues so the best way to follow is to follow the tag #the reaper and the death angel.

You've spent most of your adult life in and out of war zones, and you've worked with the US military to identify terrorists and dead GIs. Sick of all the death and pain you chose to leave fieldwork and go back to historical research. When your little Brother leaves the Marines and settles in a small town, you decide to follow him. Will you find a home in your small, underfunded Musume job and your Brother's found family? Or will life with the Club just be another war zone?

Pre Season 1

Prologue

Part 1 ❤😨💉🔪

Part 2 ❤

Part 3 😨💉

Part 4

Part 5 ❤😨

Part 6 ❤😨🚩

Part 7 ❤

Part 8 ❤

Part 9 💉

Snippet 1 - The Lab💉

Season 1

Part 10 💉 🔪

Part 11 ❤😨💉

Part 12 🚩❤😨

Part 13 ❤😨💉🤢

Part 14 ❤❤❤💉

Part 15 ❤❤❤❤🔪🔪

Part 16🚩❤🤢(very mild)🔪

See the full post

554 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

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#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[dailynabu]

Boyfriend is a really calm guy. He is slim, tall and the cutest boy to ever exist in this Earth. He always calms me down and whenever things gets harsher, especially with Mother, who's not exactly a good character in Me story.

Today I saw Boyfriend really mad, but not warm rage; that "cold" rage. Context is that Mother said she's gonna sue me because apparently I stole house's keys. The funniest fact is that I didn't even touch those keys: they lost it. I swear to God I haven't touched it.

But I am so tired of this everyday-fight in this place I cannot call 'home'. It's really exhausting. My parents tried to kicked me out three times now and I am dying to move far from them, it is truly and really so exhausting. I am not even sad, I don't feel any type of sadness nor sorrow towards it, I don't hate her, but I am gonna be bluntly honest: sometimes I wish she just went away. Not dead, I don't think it'd be better, but my family would get SO much better without Mother. I also understand it's pretty disfunctional, but everyone here is trying to heal in their own way; she is not. She always makes it worse.

I feel so sorry for Mother, I also understand it's not my fault. She didn't deserve to be in such pain; neither do I. I hope she can heal and be happy before dying, I cannot deal with the fact she'll live like this till she die. She already did it for more than 40 years... Time for her to try happiness and healing.

I know that if she truly regretted her past actions and words and tried to be a better person, I'd forgive her wholeheartly. I don't think I'll ever feel that son/daughter love, but I'd not feel this intense injustice that led me to so much rage during years.

So Sister texted me and, despite me always defending her, she wasn't able to do the same. I tried defending myself again by saying I didn't take any keys. She kept accusing me.

Indeed, she said that what I did was "shit action". Like it was okay for my mom to accuse me of ROBBERY. Like I DID steal the keys. That moment I felt hurt. Not the first time she betrays me. Still, it hurts.

So I said: fuck it. I'm not stressing by trying to prove I did something I did NOT do.

I sent her a voice text, as calm as I could (which is fairly calm, to be honest): "Listen, Sister. You don't even answer my texts anymore, you don't care for anything I send to you. So NOW you're coming at me, accusing me and using the term 'shit', basically saying that I am, in fact, a criminal? Don't come at me with your morality lessons". She listened and didn't reply.

Boyfriend was sleeping and I wasn't in the mood to put him in all of this shit, but he woke up and listened. Asked why, I said I wasn't in the mood to tell him, but I eventually would.

When I was arriving at home, while he was driving me there, I explained calmly. He was calm too, but for the first time I saw his cold rage: he was MAD, but not I-wanna-break-everything, more like: "it's an absurd and it doesn't make sense at all. The only reason why she's getting mad is because it is you and not any of your siblings. I know you didn't take nor lost the keys, you know, she knows; she doesn't care. She wants to make your life a living hell".

I was... Shocked. He never said anything so explicit because he didn't want me to be inflamed, but today he basically... Lost his shit, I guess. "Well... I know...". "And that's why we're studying and working. We're moving together soon, I'm taking you with me and you'll never have to deal with them ever again".

Once I was at home he texted me: "I am so mad, I am sorry, but I am so mad". He is mad. It makes me think that it's because not only he loves and cares for me, but he sees and listens to me. I am not invisible and I'm not unheard. And I am valid and it is okay to feel bad.

Caring is the coolest and kindest thing someone has truly made for me.

I love him and I love his mind and his heart. I hope I can make him the happiest ever.

(About feeling rejected and how I've been unfairly treated all my life, since I was a young kid. About another betrayal of my sister and how it breaks my heart, about how I feel unconditionally loved and cared for my boyfriend and how I want him to be extremely happy, always).

— 16.01.2024

#rant post #personal post #diary entry #my journal #daily journal #journal #diary #dear diary

[the-firebird69]

There's several developments and they are local and global both:

-there's a huge amount of idiots in this town they don't know their s*** they don't know when to shut up they don't know when they're being made fun of chastise harassed or beat up they are dumber than hell this lady on the phone is a f****** idiot as soon as this repeating what she is doing and saying it back and harassing her and she's a huge b**** it doesn't get it it doesn't want to be near you people you're a bunch of jerks your own tons of money and you look at him like it's nothing and it's sitting there whooping your ass and we know he's whooping your ass cuz where his army stupid f**** we say it to you differently lots of times to your face they never back off you're always dying the pseudo empire is going to say to us and good for them they can match around today like the mental patients that they are you don't inspire us no you motivate us like hell but you never imitate us or anything to die you don't have a say stuff in space are you going to die these are things we've been doing to you for a long time apparently you're completely stupid now we did pay attention to it we have a zombie level on you that's more appropriate it's about a seven out of eight set of 10 but boy are you people nasty they're all ready to go we have a place for you don't worry about it

-along with you being incredibly nasty and very stupid you are being incinerated and they're pulling you out and they're taking it to the incinerator for showing up three times a day as different people or three times a day is the same person or any combination there of or greater and they told you not to and you go ahead and do it right away does not mean that you're going to get away with it or survive or anything like that and they said it because they're actually going around pulling you out you too John Reema Lord your time is numbered meaning you only have a few days left they said and your whole race will be dead you're horrific people your act blows the bag. The lady is saying they shouldn't support foreigners getting an education in healthcare and is implying she's real mad cuz she went to our son's house the sun says my granddaddy is President and your enemy combatants and you don't belong here and you're more or less foreigners so are you limiting yourself whether you know it or not they're treating you like foreigners whether you agree to it or not you are taking away things that foreigners have put here and now your foreigners you're Australian you're New Zealand even Britain I don't know if you understand this it's happening all the time she did a good job now she's an a****** you did fine yesterday now you're an a****** and you don't understand it yeah sure is it's a f****** pain you didn't get any sleep you just don't do anything right you're getting slaughtered when is it going to be enough to try and do something normal so you're saying that to them because they're on the stupid floor that channel doing stupid things usually trying to bother him and we're going to see them try all day long and he's going to say who gives a s*** this one doesn't mean it either and you get f***** up all day and night this one looks more like an e-bike and they're starting to get upset

-this one beats the regulations completely

-there's another problem too almost everybody he needs is his enemy but he says is people are my enemy die nobody wants a schmuck near me or a****** or fake black person I am in I am entitled to report people who are abusing the image and report you clyburn for execution nothing less and you can take your e-bike and jam it up your ass sideways I'm going to turn you into the worm and jam the e-bike up your ass now this a****** fake black b**** ass and you're saying you're going to hit me so I have you hit if you're going to get hit there's no such thing as two judges in a courtroom and you're actually making legal binding decisions you're going to be fired and you're going to be killed by all these people are going to sue you on this people's couples Court judge Dana Cutler and judge Keith Cutler you are performing illegal task is not approved by the Congress of the United States it's never been written as a formal procedure every single judgment you have made is going to go back on you for that fat f****** b****'s mouth I'm going to start there and we're going to sue the f*** out of you for what you're saying

What he says is really true you can't have two judges and we're going to reset it to the justice department today along with all the other offenses he's offensive people are doing to go after them they have us on the side track to go after them so we're going to publish

Thor Freya

Olympus

Zues Hera

[ndragoon]

.

Really love how the past two weeks have played out.

Starts off with me going to the ER because of back pain so severe I couldn't even just sit and watch stuff because every pulse of pain made me physically move in kind

They told me that not only did I have a bad infection, but it had caused sepsis and I needed to stay and be treated for it.

Okay, whatever. I don't know the specifics of it but I know it killed one of my closest friend's mom a few months ago, so I'll put up with it.

While I'm there, I get seen by a urologist (technically I saw four, but the other three were decent) who tells me that actually, the prostate doesn't really have any issues unless you're around 60, so even if this wasn't going on they'd never look at it anyway. It doesn't matter that it hurts to stimulate my prostate because it's "small and perfectly healthy".

She then goes on to tell me that I didn't actually have any shrinkage from the testosterone gel. Sometimes the testicles do reduce in size some. But mine are just small and were small since I was born. The only reason they "seem to sit high" is because I'm just really fat and because of all the fat down there, it hangs around them and obscures them. The only reason I felt any pain in them was because of this infection, since it's all connected.

Doesn't matter that they shrunk down so much I only feel the tubes behind them most of the time. Doesn't matter that I can't even find those sometimes because they pull up inside me. Doesn't matter that they used to hang low enough that if it was warm I had to put in effort to make sure they didn't dunk in the toilet water. Doesn't matter that my penis has shrunk so considerably that it's clearly visible with photo evidence, since I used to take size comparison pics to show just how small it was for the longest time. Clearly I'm just a Manly Man trying to strut my stuff and explain why I'm not packing a summer sausage with two oranges at the moment.

When I finally get told I'm well enough to leave, I'm also told I'm not allowed to drive for some reason until I see my PCP and get cleared. So I'm like whatever, I'll deal with it since I shouldn't be going anywhere anyway.

Finally see my pcp and she tells me that apparently the scans they did found stuff on my liver, some kind of thing alongside fibrosis. What's going on with it is something that just seemingly happens. She told me there really isn't any known cause, it just happens.

The rest of my lifespan is basically going to be dictated by roulette. It doesn't matter if I became *perfectly healthy* by the most ridiculously strict standards. I could see the doctor one day and be told I have 2 to 10 years left anyway.

And now I can't even find anything pleasant online because people are acting like reblogging about Palestine's genocide to the exclusion of everything else is going to help. If anyone posts anything even slightly positive or neutral, they get attacked because they are supposed to be reblogging about it exclusively with no breaks.

So I'm basically stuck being reminded that I'm stuck dying alone because I'm not going to drag someone else into my life when I might have to tell them I have two years left after we just got started, on top of everything else. While also seeing an endless running commentary about how a genocide is going on that is actually okay! Because apparently Jews are the only forbidden people to genocide!

Because people seem to think that the US Army will suddenly start to care about what the people want if they are just annoying enough to the right people, as if they haven't been doing whatever they want longer than I've been alive.

And I'm sitting here being forced to pretend that everything is okay because if I stop to so much as catch my breath, everything will breach my mind and I'll start to spiral badly. But I also can't step away from anything because it's as they say, it makes me selfish putting myself over everyone else who has no choice but to keep dealing with it with no way to get out.

#Reki Personal #Reki Medical

[eglantinian]

insanity laughs under pressure (e/e modern AU protest fic)

@thedangerinlove​, you asked for a fanfic of this pic. so i made it happen for enjonine in Les Misérables.  TW: deaths, lots of it, as hugo did. This is the sad prelude to if a glance is dawn breaking, then twilight is a whisper of your name, so if you want a happy fic (ok well it is angsty still, but at least they are finally happy), go there after this one.

Readable as well in AO3 | FFNET

insanity laughs under pressure

Theirs is the chorus of a thousand raging daylights.

“To move past the throes of the 21st century,” Enjolras exclaimed, rippled waves of gold dancing in the wind as he raised a crimson-marred flag above him, “We must once again shake the stars into birth!”

Footsteps guided by lightning, their souls exalted, “Libérte! Égalité! Fraténité!”

The fair-haired student felt his heart take flight, and there were falls prickling the universe in his otherwise calm, but tenacious mien. “We are but whirlwinds of dust in this world, and yet — let the stars not contain you!”

A hand gently placed itself atop his shoulder, which was covered in a pitch-black coat, and a fond curl formed on his lips before he curled his fingers with her sun-graced ones. Éponine, though trembling, gripped him tightly, and lightly whisked her viridescent scarf behind her shoulder.

Imperfect histories enrich her voice as she began the song of the people.

“A la volonté du peuple

Et à la santé du progrès,

Remplis ton cœur d'un vin rebelle

Et à demain, ami fidèle.

Nous voulons faire la lumière

Malgré le masque de la nuit

Pour illuminer notre terre

Et changer la vie.”

The forlorn city looks upon them with pity, yet the group carries on, dusk rising doing nothing to convince them to dampen the lilt in their mighty prayer.

Thebes, apparently, is bent on returning the lovelorn tale of Antigone and her faithful lover Haemon to live in a different realm.

And so it commences — the disparate, woeful string quartet in the interlude of their concluding rally.

It is as they are ready to depart the Arc de Triomphe that a certain change in the air makes the people droop like daisies on the harsh asphalt.

The wind caressed their lungs ruthlessly, and Éponine tugged his hand, the doleful narrative touched by Melpomene threatening her heart — and it makes her breath catch, even as she lifted her scarf upwards to the half of her face for protection.

Enjolras eyed her, grey hood covering his hair, and he felt it too — the lightning coming too early in their somber skies. She meets him in that ephemera, when people rise to the tide of the blearing alarms, and they understand.

That freedom wakes in the death of revolution, and the residue of their soul… with it.

It shouldn’t have to be that way, then, we suppose? Perhaps, Thalia can persuade her sister Melpomene to have Orpheus scribe this story, then, driven by crimson as it is?

Victor Hugo scoffs, and in his tobacco-laced breath, he argues, “Glory follows reason and passion.”

The tragedian triumvirate — Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides — nod to this hommage of their Unwritten laws.

And the palatial narrative falls, and the discourse of the republic begins.

But the radiant mystery would have to wait.

Bullets trailed after them, and one by one, Enjolras and Éponine saw the horizon narrow — Combeferre, in saving Courfeyrac, falls. Fire in his eyes, Jehan, sweet Jehan whose light steps and gentle hands never made harm, chose this moment as an exception, and struck the gendarme with his fists. Too soon was this triumph, however, as a blow to his head coming from Claquesous took his life.

Bahorel was locked in combat with Montparnasse when he witnessed this, and too soon, the Sirens called him to death in his distraction. Feuilly followed as another bullet flittered about to graze his neck, heart breaking as the voices of Joly and Bossuet grew faint in their attempts to protect Musichetta from the harsh smoke and stampede of harried people.

Grantaire weaved himself next through this throng, taking Courfeyrac, and using his brittle Bordeaux to scare the scattered police trying to arrest them both. But this too, is a swift tale, as Babet, with his sharp eyes, trifle with their breaths in two shots.

The universe does not exempt Éponine, even when her feet rarely touches the soft earth, and she trembled in this wretched air — once, only as a Wolf does — and Enjolras felt it, the shiver of winter taking his heart.

Cradling her frail body to himself, he touched her otherwise intrepid countenance, as her lids lowed — even as the moonlight drifted in her irises.

“Yours,” he whispered the radiant mystery that will follow them, “is the future.”

And he hears the ray of immortality — its shrieking crescendo —  before it reached him.

His last word: Love.

#enjonine #enjolras #eponine #enjolras x eponine #eponine x enjolras #ok #i am not over this ship ok #this was quite vexing to write #but i managed #my heart hurts #apparently even if i'm so used to them dying it doesn't take away the pain

[wendystales]

Memories - lrh (Chapter Twenty)

Memories (also on Wattpad)

Chapter Nineteen ※ ※ ※ ※ ※ Chapter Twenty One

Luke pov.

I stop to snap my fingers, when the white BMW parks in the garage door. Leah climbs out of the car, giving me a half smile. Slowly, she approaches, sitting beside me, laying her head on my shoulder.

I keep my eyes down, focused on my hands as I feel Leah’s eyes sweep my face, waiting for any sign. I quickly stare down the street, wondering if it was a good idea to have come, if I just didn't want to torture myself more. Ashton says I have this habit.

“How is she?” I ask so low that I almost don't hear myself.

I know she heard me, as she sighs right away, however, the delay in giving me an answer bothers me. I study her thoughtful expression, facing the street.

It's been two days since Leah got back from NY and I didn't have the courage to question anything before. She even tried to see me, but I just kept myself locked in my room, just allowing Michael to come closer.

I'm still trying to manage the range of feelings that flutter within me. The sadness by her left me just like that. The love that, despite everything, I still feel. And the anger for still feeling all that, for her going without caring about anything and apparently being fine in NY.

“She's being her.” her voice breaks the silence. "She's still lying, but she doesn't give her arm to twist and she's in an attack position. She's really determined to drive us all away.” I notice her voice dying at the end, as if she doesn't want to confirm the situation.

I shake my head no, rubbing my face hard.

“Why? Why is she doing this?” my voice rises, showing anger.

“I don’t know. I have my theories, but I don't know. It's so different this time, she didn't say anything to anyone. Nor with the parents.” silence settles between us again. "Do you have any plans?" the use of the word makes me laugh sadly, because first and foremost I had a single, simple plan, to make Marnie fall in love with me.

I was going to remake all our dates. Take her to our favorite places. I had planned a week in Rome, where she traveled when everything started to go wrong. I wanted to help her remember everything, make her come back to me, and in the end, I lost her.

"Accept that it's over?!" I open my hands, implying that I have them tied. “I wonder if deep down, she wasn't right all along.”

“What? That bullshit you guys weren't born to be together?” I confirm. “Oh Luke! C’mon!” Leah stands up, angry. "Honestly, is that what you're going to believe after all? You love that idiot and she loves you, your fool. What do you most need to understand? My God! I know you for what? Around seven years? And in all this time I've never seen you so in love, so committed, and so happy with someone. And look, I liked Vicky. Yes! Yes, things are weird and messy, but deep down we know it won't be like this forever.”.

“We know?” I question leaving her speechless. She returns to sit beside me.

"I hope so. Look, something's up and we can't count on Marnie's willingness to tell us. So we'll have to think. What I believe is we should give her time and space she's asking for. You'll be traveling tomorrow and you'll have more than a month to focus your mind on work, just like her. When you get back, if nothing has changed, we'll go over to her and try to talk.”

I shake my head no. Leah tenses beside me, realizing my intent.

“Luke…”

“I can't take another blow. Not from her.” I take the ring out of my pocket, admiring it once more.

"Calum told me you were going to propose to her." the tearful whisper fills my ears. “When were you going to do this?”

“On the day of the accident.” I answer in a whisper. Hastings drops her head against my arm, sharing the pain. “If she doesn't come after me, it's over, Leah. Maybe Marnie is the love of my life, but not the love for my life.” I say, running my thumb across the blue stone.

It hurts think that I'll never have her in my arms again. At first I thought about it so much, about not getting attached, not falling in love, not sinking in my head, cause she could leave at any moment. But she was staying and staying and becoming everything. I lost the fear of surrendering, because the more I gave in, the more she gave me the confidence and love to give in. So I sank into that love and I don't regret it. However, I don't know if knowing what would happen, if I would do it again.

"I can't imagine you without her." I curse myself mentally as a tear escapes. Leah dries carefully without judgment. "It's cold out here, how about going in and eating something?" I roll my eyes, wanting to get up, but she grabs my arm, keeping me sitting. “Luke! Michael told you that you're not eating well and that's not right. Hunger strike doesn't solve anything. A sandwich. Please?”

I stare at her, annoyed. I don't want all this care on me. I am over 20 years old, I know how to take care of myself. Leah joins her hands, whispering several please.

“I make that parma ham sandwich with arugula and buffalo mozzarella. Come on, I know you like this sandwich.” I sigh against your requests.

“Only if you brown the bread in butter.” I look suspiciously at her who opens a huge smile confirming. Leah stands up and pulls me over, I wrap her in a hug, not saying anything, but she knows it's in thanks.

A week later…

The exorbitant amount of alcohol in my body makes my head weigh tons as my light mind travels miles from that club. The lights and intense sound put me in a bubble with my thoughts, as I can't hear anything but the beat or focus on anything more than a foot from my face.

I close my eyes allowing myself to fall into the abyss of fantasies my mind creates. I hug Hood who is standing beside me singing the lyrics to the song I didn't even know at the top of his lungs.

I leave him alone, going to the bathroom that was there. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, closing my eyes, trying to focus the image. I drank a lot. I need to stop for a while. Eat something, I don't know. I tuck the back of my neck under the sink, feeling the icy water lapping against my warm skin.

Seattle is the second city we are visiting on our publicity tour. Work is really distracting me from situation I'm in. Interviews and more interviews. Same questions, same games, same people, but it all helps me not to think about her.

Her.

Marnie.

Marnie. I should call her. Yeah. Maybe she's waiting for my call. Who knows all that wasn't a test to see if I really love her? Yep. I will call and tell her how much I love her, how much I want her back. Tell her how it hurts me seeing her leavin. I need to tell her about the proposal. She'll come back. I am sure.

I lean against the sink when I feel the bathroom spin. I press the phone to my ear. Pick up, Marnie. After a few minutes I hear someone answer.

"M&Ms?" hope explodes in my chest. She answered me.

"Hello?" I feel the ground swallow me up as my head processes the male voice on the other side.

I must have called it wrong, it's not possible. I check her name on the screen. Anger erupted in my heart and I'm ready to yell at whoever that guy was, but her voice comes first, shutting me up.

"My keys. I don't know where my keys are. Where are my keys?” she screams the last part, hysterical. I rub my forehead trying to decipher the confusion of feelings and sensations going on in my body.

“My God, it's not possible.” he whispers. "I already told you it's in the bedroom." he screams.

"Stop yelling at me." she counters.

"You started it. I'm trying to get on the phone here." he closes. "Sorry, who is it?"

I hang up, controlling myself not to throw the phone on the floor. She's with another one. Already? We broke up last week. I rub my face hard, just feeling the anger feed inside me. Was she already with him? Did she already know him?

My mind attacks me with images of her kissing any guy but me. My chest starts to burn and I am completely blinded by anger and jealousy. If she can move on so easily, so can I.

I leave the bathroom, returning to our space, finding Calum still jumping to the music. Ash sits, chatting with one girl, and I focus my attention on the one dancing alone further away from Cal. She has hit on me since we arrived and I just ignored her.

I reach from behind, hugging her waist and putting my mouth to her ear. She seems to realize it's me as she brings her hand directly to the back of my neck, scratching.

"How about we get out of here and go to my hotel? It more comfortable and quiet there.” I squeeze her waist. The girl I can't even remember the name turns around accepting my invitation.

I come down from the second floor with her behind me, without saying goodbye to the guys. I get into the car, not registering in my head if there were paparazzi at the door. I stop caring when her mouth touches my neck and her hand starts moving up my thigh.

Marnie pops into my mind as the weight of making a wrong decision begins to take the place of anger. I remember the way she always ran her fingers up my thigh to my crotch, keeping that innocent face, like she wasn't planning on freaking me out in front of everyone.

No! I mentally scream at her picture in my head. You caused this. I grab the back of the girl's head pulling her to me, crush her lips with mine, touching her tongue.

You gotta be kidding me, Luke. What the fuck?

I squint my eyes tighter, wanting to shut Marnie’s voice out of my head.

I really can't believe you're doing this. What's your damn problem? Huh?

Annoyed, I keep trying to focus my attention on the girl who is about to climb into my lap. My chest tightens as her voice fades from my mind, as the girl squeezes my crotch.

[...]

“Here's the money for a taxi and another one so you don't tell anything about what happened here, right? Now go.” I process John's tired voice in the distance. “Come on, wake up!” I shift on the bed, feeling the slap on my foot.

Slowly, I settle into bed, feeling the whole room spin and my head explode with pain at the light.

"Want to explain to me what that was?" I look at John by the bed, arms open, looking around the room. I follow his gaze, finding pillows and sheets on the floor. Drink bottles and bath towels along with clothes scattered throughout the room.

I scratch my eyes, struggling to get my head on straight. I can't remember anything after we got to the hotel. We went into the room and started drinking. I know I pulled the girl into the shower and nothing else. Did I get laid? I lift the sheets slightly, noticing that I'm naked. Yeah, I got laid.

"Luke?" I look back at John, lost.

“I had a party yesterday, nothing special.” I shrug.

"Nothing special? It's everywhere. Luke, I thought this trip was to distract you until you and Marnie got back. What you think she'll feel about all this?” he looks at me indignantly.

So reality hits me hard. I remember the reason for all this, Marnie was with someone else. Effortlessly, the burden on my conscience starts to become heavier than the hangover.

"She won't mind. She's already with another one.” I say grudgingly.

“What? What do you mean?” John approaches quickly.

“I called her and a guy answered.” I hug the pillow thrown beside me.

“Did you call her?” I nod, watching the seam of the fabric. "And did you ever speak to her?" I deny, sighing. “Sorry, man!” he squeezes my shoulder. "If there's anything I can do? Do you want me to try to get in touch with her? Or reschedule New York? I can try to arrange a meeting between you.” I shake my head.

I grab a pair of underwear on the bedpost, get dressed and head to the bathroom, splashing water on my face.

“It is not necessary. It’s over! May she live her life and I will live mine. But thanks for caring. I know you didn't like her very much.”

“No need to thank. I know we had our differences, but I know how special she is to you and I wouldn't want anything to come between the two of you.”

“Was!” he looks at me blankly. I feel almost breathless saying this. “She was special to me. Now she's just my ex.” John nodded sheepish.

“OK! Well, if you need anything, just let me know. Now take a shower and go down to eat, the schedule is full today.” he pats me on the back and goes out leaving me alone.

I lie down on the bed, staring at the white ceiling, waiting for him to give me answers about everything. I hunt for my phone, unlocking the screen and heading to the gallery. I play a random video, watching my disgruntled face as a fire alarm seeped through the room. Marnie’s cheerful face comes into focus, laughing beside me.

“Only because we wanted to sleep late.” her voice fills the room. Again I focus the camera on my face, shaking my head no but letting out a laugh at the end at the laugh she gives.

I sigh, tossing the phone on the bed, wishing I had never laid eyes on her that night.

Marnie pov.

The day after fight with Bethany, I asked Edward to change my hotel. I wasn't going to be able to stand there knowing she was so close. Eddie didn't make any judgments, just switching hotels for three days until my apartment was finished.

After the episode of my first day in NY, I swore that I would no longer let myself be shaken and martyred for the decision I made. Crying and getting drunk all night isn't going to solve anything, I'll still have to face my choice, so I'll try to be happy in the meantime.

And for the first time I was happy in New York. The photo shoots were amazing, the interviews I was giving were totally focused on my career, no Luke, no amnesia. Next week I am supposed to get the cast off my arm. I was on Jimmy Fallon's show yesterday. And if all is still going well, I would be the cover of the next Vogue. Everything was starting to fall into place. So, last night, I watched the news before bed, finding him in the arms of someone else.

Looks like someone caught me and turned me upside down. The knife that had been stuck in my chest since talking to Noah, turns every time I see a photo or video of him leaving the club with her. I knew this was a risk.

Why are you suffering? He didn't betray you. You kicked him first. He has every right to do what he wants. My conscience screams. I just didn't think it would be with someone else and it would be so fast. After all, Leah said he was suffering.

I wake up from my thoughts when my alarm starts buzzing in my lap. I take my eyes to the window seeing the day coming on. My God, I spent the night awake. I massage my face, noticing that I haven't taken off my makeup, or my clothes, or the hair extensions.

I think I need take a shower and get ready. I have a photo shoot in Central Park and I don't know if I can use a pair of sunglasses to hide the dark circles under my eyes. I force my mind to get me out of bed, but I don't move, continuing to stare at the sheets.

I don't know how many minutes I sleep there with my eyes open, but I know it's been a lot, as I see Edward enter my room, worried. I look at him lost, not knowing what to say or do.

“Sorry I had to use my key, you wouldn't answer the door.” I just keep quiet, it doesn't matter. “What happened, Mars?”

I wrinkle my forehead, still getting used to the new nickname. I blink a few times, putting my head to work. I lower my head, silent, unlocking my phone. I click on his picture and hand it to Eddie, who sighs in pity.

“I am really sorry! I can’t deny I hope that you still haven't seen it.”

"It wouldn't change anything." my throat is so dry.

“You at least would have had a good night's sleep. Wanna talk about it?”

Eddie is not an idiot, he knows I'm running away from LA, my friends and Luke. But he doesn't know why. I still didn't have the courage to tell and I didn't feel like talking about it, just taking it.

I shake my head negatively, taking a deep breath, it wouldn't change anything, he would continue with her. Did she sleep with him? Did she get a chance to see him waking up? Did he wake her up the way he woke me up? With kisses all over the spine?

“Stop thinking about it.” he asks, upset.

“I can’t!” I lean my head against the headboard.

"Want me to cancel the photo shoot and tell you're not okay? So you take the day off for yourself?” I deny it again.

"I'm going to take a shower and we're going." I get out of bed urgently, startling Eddie.

As much as I didn't feel like getting out of bed and moving around, I'm aware that standing here will only make me go back to square one. At work I get distracted and have a few laughs.

After my shower and a quick breakfast, we headed to Central Park meeting the entire Vanity Fair team. I walk into the tent, heading straight for the chair, getting ready for my makeup and hair. I catch a few intent glances at me, but no one opens their mouths, pretending nothing was happening. As I expected, the conversation distracts me, I put Luke aside, focusing on the gossip about Jill's terrible date.

In the photo shoot, I focus on the poses and orientations of Yuri, the photographer, keeping my mind full of other things. By lunchtime, I eat a salad under the glare of Eddie, who was almost yelling that I should eat something better, that sustains me.

When the clock struck 3pm I was free and without another appointment for the rest of the day, which became a problem. Me alone and without commitments = thinking about Luke.

"Do you have any commitments now?" I question Eddie as we walk out of Central Park.

“I have to accompany another model on a test for a runaway show.” he replies, checking his phone.

"I can't believe you've been cheating on me like this." I play.

“Why?” he asks, after smiling.

“ It's just that I have nothing to do.” I shrug, waiting for the car to arrive.

“You should take a rest. Sleep a little.” Eddie looks at me intently. I roll my eyes.

“I don't wanna sleep. And if I go home, I'll be thinking about it.” I take a deep breath, not wanting to piss myself off again.

“You know, New York is a huge city and has a million places to see. I don't know if it's really your style, but I really enjoy visiting museums, especially history.” he wipes his glasses and adjusts them on his face.

“I like museums.” I open a smile, excited.

I remember the time I applied to University of Pennsylvania and imagined what it would be like to come to NY almost every weekend, see museums, exhibits, Broadway shows and everything in between.

Well, now this is my home and I need to get to know the city better and my future favorite places. I'm sorry that Eddie can't keep up with me this time, but we've got a life ahead of us to do these shows together, I don't need to rush.

I say goodbye to him and head to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Met. I take my cap out of my bag, wanting some privacy to walk. I observe art lovers, students from school, college and courses, taking notes, drawing works. I imagine myself among those students doing some work the teacher ordered and maybe irritated that my weekend was in the way.

I enter another room, looking at more paintings and a couple standing in front of one, trying to guess what message the artist was trying to say. In the back of my mind, his voice comes up.

““I think they'll find us here.” Luke whispers, agitated, as he pulls for another room.

“Don't worry. Nobody expects to find us here.” I let out a laugh, reassuring him.

"Are you saying I'm not capable of appreciating art?" Hemmings pulls me in front of him, hugging me.

“No! I'm saying that no one imagines that famous people like us appreciate art and culture. They think we're too ignorant for that.” he doesn't answer me, just enjoying the painting.

"What should this be?" he whispers, confused. I look at the screen again. "If you had painted this, what would you have meant?"

“Sadness. They are cool colors and if you look at the shadow, it gives a feeling of melancholy. Maybe panic at the way the dark colors look.” I digress.

“My God, I love hearing you talk about art.” Hemmo comments, making me smile.”"

Oh my God! I did it! Who knew, huh?

Finally I posted a new chapter. And to prove how cool I am, later I'm going to post another one.

See ya xoxo

#5sos fluff #5sauce #5 seconds of summer #5sos #luke hemmings #calum hood #michael clifford #ashton irwin #5sos blurbs #5sos fanfic #luke 5sos #michael gordon clifford #calum 5sos #ashton 5sos #ashton fletcher irwin #michael 5sos #lukey #lrh #luke hemmings fic #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings blurbs #luke hemmings one shot #hemmings #wfttwtaf #wendystales #memorieslrh #wattpad #amnesia #fanfiction

[azurevi]

on land where we can touch the moon (2/?)

PART 1 PART 3

A quick note- this is pretty messy. I'm planning as I write, so there'll be information scattered across the words, and it may be overwhelming...kinda. I have added a little note about what happened in this chapter in the end. This series is also up on ao3.

There is, naturally, a reason Azul was stuck with the name 'The Sea Merchant'.

It wasn't a bad name, and there was no hint of degradation in it. It just wasn't particularly suiting. Azul wasn't a merchant. He wasn't even a shopkeeper. He was just invested in a little magic, and this hobby of his got leaked out somehow. 

His magic was certainly something. It's A Deal allowed him to confiscate another person's valued quality in exchange for their wish. Anything could come to life as long as the deal was equal.

Only the drunk and people in desperate need of help ever went to him for help. After Azul had started mastering his magic, he reckoned that it hadn't been used to its full potential. If the person on the other side of the deal failed to meet the requirement, Azul could take even more from them without suffering any loss. 

And so he sugarcoated and exaggerated his words, put up the most professional smile he could manage. For a few weeks all was well. He'd gained himself a melodious voice, splendid flexibility and a ton of unique magics, but nothing great ever lasted. He was soon exposed as a scammer and his notoriety was whispered among the streets, passed on and on until every family warned their kids not to ever run into him. And Azul, with his fame and prosperity wilting under the gossip and points of fingers, was forced into giving up his success.

He had been in hiding ever since.

He could never understand how something as atrocious could happen to him. If it hadn't been for the sneers and isolation in the entirety of his childhood, he wouldn't have grown up hating everything and everyone around him that called him ugly, unwanted, repulsive. It should've justified his desire for revenge.

Instead, God decided that his suffering was not anywhere close to enough and kicked him down the cliff where he was crying for help.

That being said, Azul was grateful to have Jade and Leech sticking around after everything. The two of them were also unpopular among others, so they eventually got close as a tight-knitted trio.

"No you didn't," Jade said firmly. 

"I did, Jade. I did," Azul sighed, "They were dying, Jade, I couldn't just let them die,"

"Well, you should've."

"Don't be so uptight. Azul was doing the right thing, wasn't he?" Floyd winked. "So. Were they good-looking?"

"What?"

"The human. You must've saved them for a reason,"

Azul hated how Floyd's words implied that he would never do good unless there was something in it for him, but one could never lie in the face of truth. 

"I just didn't want to let them die. It was their birthday,"

"What does that have to do with everything?" Jade asked. "You went above the water. You saved a human. You were almost caught. You could've died up there, you know. How did you even manage to breathe?"

"I just… did." Azul said, twirling his tentacles in nervousness. Jade was entirely disapproving of his actions, while Floyd on the contrary seemed to be mildly intrigued. 

Everything still felt like a fever dream. All the fireworks and cheering and explosion were still vividly scorched into his mind as if they'd been put on repeat. The splendid colors, light giggles and- 

And those beautiful eyes of yours. The way your hair flowed in the night sky with ease, how you laughed like tomorrow was promised and your life had been planned out before you, a clear and untainted path to success. Azul couldn't decide on whether he was jealous or amazed.

"Well, you better hope they didn't really see you, or that they forgot about it. If the humans come down here to hunt us down-" Jade couldn't even bear to finish the imagination. He simply shook his head in dismay.

"I swear I saw someone! I couldn't have just been washed ashore!"

"Apparently, you were," Jack said, stroding with large steps that had you panting to keep up. "Near-death experiences do things to our mind, your majesty,"

"That may be the case for others, but I'm sure I was conscious," you retorted. "I woke up to a pair of pale, azure eyes, then in a blink they were behind the rock. If it hadn't been for you-"

"I apologize for worrying about you, your majesty."

You bit your tongue. Fighting with Jack always ended with him being passive-aggressive and you stepping back reluctantly. Plus he was as stern as a rock. Almost nothing could move his belief.

Shouting and grunting could be heard from inside the medical room where Ace, Deuce and Grim were being tended to.

Jack flung open the door, and the three stumbled to get into the blankets and put on a excruciated expression.

"I see you're all healed up," Jack said. Ace hummed lowly and slapped his forehead with the back of his hand. 

"I'm at death's door, commander. It pains me to say this, but I might need to take more days off,"

Jack was quiet for a while, and you could almost see a drop of sweat sliding down Ace's forehead.

"And you, Deuce?" Jack challenged.

"I'm traumatized," 

"And Grim?"

You arched your brow, at which he shivered in fear. "I- I'm feeling fine already,"

"So it's just Ace and Deuce, right?" Jack said. Ace and Deuce nodded their heads so hard they could fall off.

"Alright. Your health is of utmost importance to us, so I'll contact the Raven Healer…"

"The what?!" Deuce's voice croaked.

"The Raven Healer. Surely you've heard of him. He's best known for being able to treat any diseases, both mentally and physically,"

You were sure there were sweats rolling down Ace's cheeks now. "But- but doesn't he heal by using bizzare mediciness…?"

"Oh yes. His magic is what makes him such an infallible doctor. You two seem to be in a lot of pain. I'm sure he'll free you of your suffering."

You turned sharply towards the door and stifled a laughter. 

"That's… not very necessary…" Deuce's voice faltered word by word. He was fully aware that he'd already lost. "You know what, commander? I think I can dive back into work right this instant!"

Jack smirked smugly. "Splendid. And you, Ace?"

The two of them stared at each other so intensely there seemed to be sparkles between them. Finally, Ace gave in. "I'll start work tomorrow,"

They didn't even wait for Jack to walk completely out of the door to whine. They looked fully healthy, even more energized than you.

"Anyways, did you find your saviour?"

You sighed. Ace and Deuce were still skeptical about your 'story', which you'd corrected to 'experience', but at least they were open-minded. 

"No clues. I've had guards patrolling about every two hours. Nothing has yet to happen,"

They eyed each other uneasily, then back at you with a worried face. Before they could make assumptions, you defended yourself. "No, I'm not sick. My head's not concussed,"

"Well," Grim scurried to your lap. "Perhaps your saviour doesn't wish to be found?"

That'd be unwanted. You would wish for anything but to create troubles for your lifesaver. Nonetheless, you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep without sending your gratitude. 

Alright, there might be a selfish motif. You were admittedly curious about those light, pensive eyes and silvery, gleaming hair under sunlight. All these unknown were like a gravity pool, pulling you deeper and deeper into the mystery.

"Well, you ought not to lose hope," Ace patted your shoulder casually, like you weren't the princette of the kingdom he was serving for. "Maybe you'll actually run into him. Fate has a weird habit for setting unexpected traps."

It wasn't so much love as a tender curiosity, but the line segregating them was so flimsy that one's got to mix them up at some point.

Azul found himself in such a dilemma. He couldn't decide whether it was attraction or nosiness that he was feeling. Either way, it's got him hooked like a drug. Something beautiful had finally entered his life like light piercing through a thick fog of ink, and it was possessive. Azul had a feeling that it wouldn't go away until it had drained him of his mind.

The door to his room was thrown open and Azul had to hide the peeled petals and green stem in a jumble. He had been chanting 'they love me, they love me not' for the past hour. To his luck, Jade and Leech didn't seem to have noticed his haste expression. They were both panting when they swam inside.

"What's wrong?" Azul's first instinct was that something had gone south.

"There-" Floyd wheezed. "There's a sta-"

"There's a fallen statue in the Coral Maze," Jade finished the sentence. "People are fussing over it,"

"Okay," Azul eased back into his bed. He'd already lost interest at 'Coral Maze'. It was at the centre of where the majority of sea creatures inhabited. Nothing could make him go anywhere near civilization and its hubristic aesthetic again.

Or so he thought.

"No- you don't get it. It's a statue of a human that sank along with wreckages of a big ship, and it's made of gold,"

A statue made of gold.

He recalled it now. It was supposed to be your birthday present. The consternation of what followed the present revelation had been so intense that it'd washed the memory of the statue out.

"We just thought that it could be the statue you mentioned in your story, you know? It looked really grand…" Floyd sighed.

Azul wanted to get up and swim over right there, right then, but he knew he couldn't. What would others say to him the moment they saw the shadows of their tentacles crawling on their pure and oh-so royal ground? What accusations would they throw his way? How many children will be led away from him like he was some man-eating, brutal abomination?

Not to mention the unforgiving rage he'd evoked in trying to scam them in the past. Dishonesty was highly criticised in their high-class society. It was as if they were saints that had never done one thing wrong. Bet they'd never even stayed up past midnight.

"You ought to come take a look!" Floyd suggested. A casual, friendly proposal.

"No," Azul snapped. "No, no. I'm not going there,"

"They're planning to use the gold," Jade said. "You know how they are. They see one thing from the ground and start screeching in pain,"

They were going to use your statue. The statue that was perhaps the only thing that was related to you, the one way to never have to forget about you again in case that you never met again.

And to imagine the effect it'd add to his collections! A big gold statue in the centre of his grotto, accentuated by the sparkling of other jewelries. It'd be complete.

"I'll sit on it," Azul decided. He was not to act rashly, lest he walked one step wrong and brought upon himself misery and misfortune. If he really was to pay a visit, he would act in secret. Perhaps in the veil of the night. 

"Just don't act alone, okay?" Jade said. Azul nodded despite not paying any mind to him.

In the dead of the night Azul decided to sneak out. Alone. It was a mistake, really. Azul couldn't stop thinking about your statue, and by the time he realized how absurd it was, he'd already gone to the Coral Maze.

There was nary a shadow except his own. Still, it was much lighter than where he lived even at night. The distorted image of the moon waved from above as Azul made his way through the many identical corals. Then he finally found your majestic statue standing solemnly in the centre. The only beauty in the water.

It was a sight for sore eyes. White, pure light reflected off the gold and created streams of gleams onto the ground. That someone would ever find it to be disgraceful was incomprehensible to Azul. Something like this deserved to be put on display in the museum for all to see.

There was no radiance on your face and no splendid colors in your eyes. It was merely a fraction of what you were. Nonetheless, it was enough for Azul.

"Who's roaming there?" an alerted voice asked. When Azul turned, he saw a silhouette looming from outside the Coral Maze, holding two anglerfishes in hands and waving them in the water.

Panic was the only thing Azul felt as he hid behind the statue, struggling to keep his tentacles out of sight. The light stayed right in front of him for a while before skimming away.

Azul grabbed the statue and swam, pushing his tentacles through the water as hard as he could. 

"Wait there- oh goodness!" 

There were several voices now, mumbling and inquiring. Then light was casted upon his flitting figure and there were bemused gasps before someone yelled, "Seize him!"

Azul was out of breath. He wished he excelled in fitness but instead he was stuck with incongruous tentacles that would never cooperate at the most needed times.

A hand grasped the end of his tentacle but slipped off. He kept the statue tight in his arms, as if his life depended on it. He could tell that they were near now, and was trying very hard not to imagine the gruesome outcomes.

Someone grabbed his tentacles. He faltered and was pulled back despite protests.

"Keep him in place!" another person yelled as the crowd moved to keep Azul fenced in.

Azul couldn't see anything. Everything was a poor mixture of shadow and distaste and sneers. He was probably going to die right there.

"I can't believe you have the guts to come back, Ashengrotto. After all the things you've done!" someone spoke up.

"Yeah! How shameless of you!”

"And he's stealing our properties now! Imagine how desperate he is,"

"You guys don't even want it!" Azul said.

Some guy lurched forward. Azul cowered backwards.

"It's disgusting, yes, but it's still gold." he said as if it was a completely just thing to do. "It landed on our ground, so it belongs to us. On the contrary, you don't have the rights to lay your filthy hands on it. What more do you want to steal from us?"

"I'm taking this because none of you understand the beauty of it!"

This evoked a negative reaction from the crowd, but words could never be taken back. Azul could feel his heart pounding like a prisoner hellbent on escaping. He had to escape. No more of this degrading gazes. No more of the points of fingers.

"Beauty?" the guy scoffed, and for a moment his face scrunched up and he was ready to spit out rage, but then it softened into a smug smirk. "I guess only ugly understands ugly, huh?"

Azul's head throbbed.

"It doesn't justify your actions, ink-blasting thief. Hand that piece of trash over right- uff!"

He was flung deep into the water until he disappeared into nothing but a black dot. People around Azul immediately made way as they fled in screams and wails. His tentacle was still tingling with the impact, but he couldn't quite feel it. Even if he did, he couldn't care less as he skyrocketed to the surface of the water. He blinked and blinked, but his eyes were still blurred by what would be mixed into the seawater eventually. 

He'd had enough. Heard enough, seen enough. If he'd spent one more second down there he would have suffocated to death.

The familiar freshness of air welcomed him the moment he broke through the water's persistence. The land wasn't far ahead. He swam towards it as if it was his sanctuary. 

There was a man sitting on the rock, face hidden under the hood. Azul considered retreating. He had no idea what would happen to him if he was spotted, but nothing better would happen if he were to go back. So he continued swimming and crawled onto the cool soft sand, only letting his head be seen by the man as he hid behind yet another rock where he placed the much valued statue.

He seemed to be asleep, chest heaving up and down at a steady pace. Just as Azul started sliding out, the man raised his head and looked straight at Azul.

They were a pair of humming, white circles, seemingly void of any sentiments. The man had a mask on that shielded his face except for his tightly shut lips. Two crows were staring right at him with the same uncanny manner.

"You've finally arrived," the man said.

Probably the humans had been searching for him. Azul decided to keep his mouth shut.

"I've been hearing your calls…" he tilted his head. "You can come out. I know what you are,"

Azul still hesitated. But he was much closer to the ocean than to the guy, so he slowly let his tentacles into light.

The man remained calm, not a bit taken back by the revelation.

"Well, I've been hearing your calls…" he resumed.

"I never called out to any humans,"

"Not literally. But you have been calling out a lot," he smiled amiably. "You have to know that it's especially hard for me to hear from creatures undersea, so if your wishes managed to reach me, it means you're pretty desperate,"

"I think you have the wrong person," Azul said and started retreating.

The guy sprang up and his crows curled up together beside him. "Wait- I should introduce myself first. I'm the Raven Healer,"

Azul pondered for a while. "That doesn't explain anything except for the crows,"

"You lots haven't heard of me?" he frowned so deep that his brows and eyes were a cluster. "You guys are really secluded,"

That was when Azul finally realized that he knew about them. About all the lives and creatures that inhabited the deep sea.

"And I mean no harm to your realm. My only target is you," he smiled again, this time at an ominous angle.

"Well, I'm quite famous in this realm. I heal people for a living, whether it be physical or emotional needs. Anything you need, I can grant you,"

That's not very different from Azul's magic. 

"Sometimes, when someone is really desperate for a change, their thoughts can be heard by my crows. And you, Azul Ashengrotto…" his smile dropped a bit and his eyes drooped. "is particularly distressed,"

"Alright. It was nice meeting you," Azul nodded respectfully. The man didn't seem to be harmful. If he fled right now, he could probably throw him off.

The Raven Healer stilled, then burst into piles of blatant laughter. "No, no. I've been looking for you, don't you get it? I'm here to grant your wish!"

I'm here to grant your wish. Like how Azul'd promoted his business as the Sea Merchant.

"I understand that you've been suffering quite a lot, and that you want a change. But nothing ever comes without a cost… I'm sure you can understand,"

The healer stood up, the material of his greatcoat fluttering in the wind. He made his way freely to Azul, who could only freeze up as he inspected the statue with great interest.

"The heir to the throne! I see why you're desperate now. They're a real catch," the healer then looked down at the outstretched tentacles without a word. Azul prayed in his mind that he would turn away from them.

"Well, here are my terms. I will grant you a pair of legs in exchange for your magic,"

Wait, what?

Azul was pretty sure the Raven Healer was just imitating him now. A great figure appearing out of the blue to answer your hopes. The catch was that the figure would always take away your most important thing. It was never a fair deal, Azul was aware.

"I don't think you need my magic," Azul breathed.

"Why, I do!" he exclaimed. "Collecting magic is a splendid hobby of mine! It is because of all these magic that I am such a renowned magician,"

He was obviously lying. His smile couldn't reach his eyes, and the orbs where his eyes were supposed to be were humming like a hazard label.

"I think I'll be just fine," Azul hurriedly brought the statue to his chest and started sliding away.

"...How are you going to survive?"

"What?" Azul swiveled, exhausted.

"Up here. With your…" the healer wiggled his fingers.

"I'll find a way,"

"No you won't," the healer protested. Azul looked up to the sky, took a deep breath and decided to entertain him. 

"Why so?"

"You're gonna cause ruckus. Chaos. People are not especially used to seeing half-man half-octopuses roaming their land," he said honestly. 

Despite knowing all this, Azul still considered his word rude. There was a thin line between blunt and disrespectful, and he'd just crossed it. 

"There won't be anyone dealing with you, will there?"

"...I suppose not-"

"Exactly! I am your only hope!" he exclaimed once again, throwing his hands up in the air like a dramatist. "Unless you want to go back?"

Azul glanced at the serene water. He knew that down there, the mermaids and mermen must be panicking over what'd just happened.

"You can't hold onto that statue forever. If you really wish to stay here-"

"I just came, Mr. Healer. I'm not going to stay,"

"Yet. Come on now," he groaned, as if he was the one exasperated. "I know you want it. You need it. So what are you waiting for? You're never going to see all the beauties in this world in this state!"

He was right. Agonizingly right. He couldn't just walk around as an octopus. It would be like a stain on a quaint painting. Moreover, now that he was here, he couldn't just give up the chance to find you again. It's not like the ocean would welcome him anyways.

As if hearing his thoughts, the Raven Healer reached his hand out, "Deal? Your magic for a pair of legs. It's a fantastic trade if you think about it,"

One second. Two second. Azul didn't wait until the third to act on it. The moment their skin touched, Azul felt a stream of warmth coursing through him, rushing to his throat, where he choked up a luminous blue orb. It was within the healer's fingers within seconds.

"And your legs," he rummaged inside his pocket. There seemed to be numerous tiny objects inside as he dug around. Finally, he pulled up a thumb-size bottle and handed it to Azul.

He downed the slimy liquid inside under the healer's encouraging nods, and almost gagged at the sensation. "Guh! What the hell is-"

His tentacles started glowing a bright yellow, bright enough to attract people in this dead of the night. They started to shrink until they completely disappeared, and a pair of human legs replaced them.

He couldn't believe his eyes as he stretched around and surveyed the changes on his body. It took him quite some time to adjust to it, but he was surprisingly good at it. The fabric of the pants that came with the gift fluttered against his 'flesh' like a mother's caress. He felt normal, for once. Not some ugly monster that preyed on innocent kids. Not a marginalized criminal. Not even a wicked fraud. He was just a human wanting to explore the world.

"Three days," the Raven Healer said.

"What?" Azul was too joyous to pay real mind.

"If you can't find the most beautiful thing after three days, you will dissolve into sea bubbles,"

Azul stilled as he comprehended his words, then he started to chant no in his mind. He'd fallen for his trap.

"You didn't mention it at all!" Azul yelled. "Refund! You're scamming me!"

"The pot's calling the kettle black now. How comical," the healer giggled. Azul's heart dropped to the bottom.

"Consider this your own medicine. It's not like you're completely at loss over here!"

"Wait!" Azul reached out to grasp his fainting figure, which had become an opaque vision. 

"We shall reunite in three days. Until then, enjoy."

All that was left was the crashing of the waves and songs of the crickets. Bathed in the glow of the moon, Azul finally came to the conclusion that he'd fucked up.

Life never stopped to give him a break. There were haste footsteps nearing from behind. Azul instinctively retracted his tentacles, but forgot about their absence and tripped instead.

"Yikes! That was a nasty fall. Are you okay?" 

Looking up, two formally looking men were standing above him, one with crimson hair and another navy. There was a sword attached to each of their sides.

"Yeah. I-I'm fine," Azul cleared his throat and stood up.

"Are you homeless?" The redhead asked and was immediately hit by his companion.

"You can't go around asking people whether they are homeless!" he scolded, then turned to Azul brightly. "You must be in search of shelter! Please follow us!"

"That isn't any better," 

"Shut up," the blue-haired snapped with the same polite smile. "Come on, Mr…?"

"A-Azul. Azul Ashengrotto,"

"Yes, Mr. Ashengrotto. We can't have you catching a cold out here,"

Despite his friendly facade, Azul could see underlying motives lurking beneath. But clueless that he was, he didn't have a choice but to follow suit towards the castle-like building in the far distance.

"Your majesty will be pleased to see you," the redhead murmured, but Azul couldn't quite catch that.

"What was that?" he asked.

"It's nothing," was all that he received. "Just that you'll surely love the place."

Conclusion : Azul had once gone around scamming others with his unique magic but was busted and had been further criticised since. The Raven Healer is obviously Crowley, and his magic will be further explained in next chapter.

#twst x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst headcanons #octavinelle #azul ashengrotto #sie writes

[sophi-s]

Cost of Kindness

Chapter IV: Complications

By: sophi-s

Fandom: Darksiders video games

Words: 6,656

Characters: Raphael, Original Female Character (OC), Fury

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Swearing (a lot of it XD)

Summary:

After far too many close calls and an adventure that will last her a lifetime, Nicola and Raphael finally make their way towards Haven. Unfortunately, not everything goes as smoothly as it could.

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Many, many centuries ago taking off to the grand skies has become one of humanity's greatest dreams. They always wished to be able to fly, envying birds their wings and wishing to join them in their aerial conquest. It took many more ages to even try to think of it seriously and even longer for the humans to create the first working airplane and fulfill their dreams as the gravity kept thwarting all their plans. But once this seemingly impossible goal was accomplished, this event has been recorded on the pages of history as one of the most remarkable inventions of the human race.

When she was little, Nicola dreamed of flying on her own as well. She loved watching birds, tracking the planes soaring through the sky, so far away they looked like ants, and thinking about how it would be to have her own wings. Her dreams eventually were abandoned as she grew older, more serious and more reasonable. But honestly, if a week ago someone asked her if she would choose to have wings if she could, Nicola without hesitation would reply "a huge YES". Now however, she realised something she didn't really take into consideration before. While humans wished to rule the skies, they absolutely were not created for this. They have been made flightless, earth-ridden creatures and for a good reason. Her very apparent fear of heights made it awfully clear to her.

These thoughts were all Nicola could hear aside from the rustling of feathers on the wind as she desperately held onto her angel friend, her heart hammering in her chest, eyes wide and stomach making somersaults while everything was spinning around like a carousel. At a certain height the human body just starts to give up and refuse cooperation. For those who are afraid of heights the gap is even smaller and the symptoms more severe. All that was keeping her from fainting or throwing up there and then was the fact that she refused to look down to see how high they actually were but imagining the small buildings below her wasn't making it much better. If she survives this, she will never ask any angel for a fly again and - if it will ever be possible after the apocalypse - stay the heck away from any sort of working plane. Ground was where she belonged. Flying was not her cup of tea and no one will ever convince her otherwise.

Raphael seemed oblivious to the silent prayers spilling past her lips and just kept flying, fully focused on his destination, as she was absolutely certain she's going to die. Her muscles were completely stiff, as though she looked Medusa in the eye. She couldn't even see anything with how her face was buried in the rumpled fabric of Raphael's clothes but she assumed they were getting closer and closer. Focus on anything else than the height. Anything! She kept telling herself when her jaw started to hurt from how she was clenching her teeth. Easier said than done. Nicola knew that Raphael wasn't going to drop her. He promised her and lately she learned to trust him but the pull of gravity beckoning her down into the abyss and to a long plummet ending in a painful impact and certain death… The last time she was this panicked was when the Fallen jumped her out of nowhere. Speaking of which… God, please, let this be a smooth flight. No demons, I'm begging you..

Encounter with stray demons was the last thing they needed now. She didn't doubt Raphael's ability to defend both her and himself but if a flying demon was to attack them from surprise… Not a single part of her already malfunctioning brain could produce a scenario that wouldn't end in either of them dying or at least suffering grave injuries. In short words, any sort of aerial confrontation would mean serious trouble. And trouble wasn't something Nicola missed. Especially after the last night..

Seems like her prayers have been answered. So far nothing noticed an angel and a human passing overhead. And those demons which did apparently decided not to bother them since it didn't seem worth it or had no way of giving them trouble from where they were standing. Nicola stopped counting seconds of their journey long ago and the only indication of the passing time was the wind rushing through her hair slowing down as Raphael started to try and spare as much energy as he could, gliding whenever possible on his wings simply stretched out on both sides and flapping them only to keep the right height, out of range of any demons that could be sulking below when he began to grow weary. His stamina wasn't probably in the best condition after the time he spent in hiding and most likely not moving much.

When she gets back to Haven, Nicola is going to first, eat a solid lunch since her stomach was displeased again - though now she couldn't really feel it twisted in panic like that - second, go the fuck to sleep for the rest of the day. Even though she spent the last night sleeping like a dead woman, she didn't feel that well rested. The amount of stress she had to endure exhausted her and a few hours of rest weren't enough to regenerate her full strength. High on her bucket list was also taking care of Raphael, to at least make him look decent and dress any wounds he carried. Elanya could do that too but Nicola couldn't imagine that Raphael would let a maker he doesn't know do anything to him. She remembered how distrustful he was in the beginning. And after she gets back, no more escapades if not necessary. At least two weeks long break. Ulthane is going to make sure she stays there anyway so she might as well spend her time on sleeping and some light activities. 

Speaking of Ulthane… Nicola wasn't actually sure what she'd say to him once she suddenly showed up in Haven after all that time with a traumatized, crazy angel at her side. To say it will be awkward as heck, would be a severe understatement. It's not even about Raphael. How is she going to explain herself to the overbearing maker who is standing on his head to save the last survivors of her kind while, by nearly killing herself three times already, she acted nothing if not ungrateful? And honestly, she wasn't in shape to wonder about it now because her mind refused to focus on anything else than this one thought of the lethal distance between her and the ground. Damn it all.. Why does she have to be afraid of heights and find out this very unpleasant way? Really, if someone tried to take her from Raphael before he landed or too short time after, they'd probably need a crowbar to pry her off him.

While Nicola thought that the flight itself was awful, the moment her stomach seemed to move up into her gullet as Raphael dipped towards the ground she unwittingly shrilly cried out in fear. And that was a mistake. The angel, startled by the quiet human he'd been holding this entire time suddenly screaming bloody murder for no apparent reason, tried to halt his descent to figure out what's wrong but it was already too late for that. As a result the landing was rather rough. Nicola closed her eyes and so she didn't see how Raphael clumsily hit the ground and barely kept himself propped up not to land on top of her as she slipped out of his grasp and lost her grip on his robes. The expectations of a long fall made her throat tighten and trap her voice inside. All the bigger relief once after barely an inch or two, her back connected with the surface, drawing a soft and strained "oof" from her.

Still scared, disoriented and confused, Nicola opened her eyes to see wide-eyed Raphael hunched over her, hands on either side of her head - with the staff to her left - and gawking at  her with a slight panic on his face. Goodness, he was way too close. Pulling her arms close to her body in a helpless attempt to regain her personal space, she smiled awkwardly.

"H-hi there!"

The moment he saw that nothing was wrong and her face regained some of its color, Raphael breathed with relief and got off her, once again offering his hand to help her up. Once back on her feet, Nicola nearly cried out when she felt the solid ground under the soles of her boots. Blessed earth, she could literally kiss it right now. But the fact that they were not in Haven yet disconcerted her a little. Looking around, she noticed they're in an empty street in the middle of nowhere. Casting a questioning glance at Raphael she didn't even need to ask. The way his wings were slumped against his back, his breath heavier than before said it all. Plain and simple, Raphael was tired. Too tired to keep going. Still, he was eyeing her cautiously.

"Why… why were you screaming?"

Still feeling the nausea and the shaking of her knees, Nicola scratched the back of her neck and turned her eyes away ashamed.

"Ahuh… I'm not-... I'm not used to flying, that dip scared me a little. Sorry about this.."

Raphael said nothing to this, simply nodded, and lowered himself to the dusted road to have a seat by one of the decrepit stores. Nicola decided to let him have his five minutes to rest before going any further. Store. She suddenly realised. And not just any. A grocery store. At the mere thought her stomach rumbled. Not only could she have something for herself but also gather some stuff for others! If anything there is still edible that is. It wouldn't hurt to check. Every bit of food is precious.

"Raphael, can you wait here for a bit? I'll be back in a jiffy."

Out of the corner of her eye she already saw him shift in apprehension and almost begin to stand up. Probably because she ran once already and in his mind could do it again. She proceeded to calm him down immediately by pointing at the building she intended to search.

"I'll just go in there to look for stuff, don't worry. I will come back."

Staring at her for a couple of intense seconds, Raphael eyed her from head to toe twice before his concerned gaze softened a bit.

"Promise me…?"

Nicola smiled reassuringly and nodded. There weren't many options for her if she did want to run off. Besides, she wasn't quite sure where she was just yet. Her orientation in terrain was… less than decent as of late.

"I promise."

She offered and once Raphael sat somewhat comfortably back down, she took her backpack and shotgun - just in case - and stepped in through a broken window. The inside of the store was in utter disarray and even that was putting it lightly. Most of the shelves were toppled over, some even in pieces. Glinting shards of glass littered the floor, crunching under Nicola's feet every time she made a step. Unsurprisingly, nothing was working. No lights, no freezers, no ventilation. No time to waste. Nicola began her search immediately.

Approaching the fruit stand greeted her with bitter disappointment. Apples, oranges, pears and many other fruits were already rotten and sometimes even coated in white specks of mould. Definitely not good. With vegetables it was exactly the same. The only carrot that looked acceptable at first, turned out to have been completely wilted. Tossing it aside, Nicola moved on. She didn't even bother looking for meat. The stench hit her the moment she came inside and were it not for the smell of decomposing corpses that drifted around the sewers when she was there, she probably would've thrown up where she stood. Instead, she just covered her mouth and nose with her bandana.

Any dairy products were off the table too. Without working freezers every single one of them has surely gone sour by now. A diarrhea was not something she wanted to have in Haven and most likely neither did the makers. Nicola didn't dare to so much as touch any eggs that still were somehow intact. Bad idea. A smelly one as well. There's no way some of them haven't gone bad yet. The risk wasn’t worth it. Passing by one of the mostly whole shelves, she absent mindedly grabbed a bag of dry cat food and stuffed it into her backpack. It was highly probable that most of the survivors would be feeding the kitten with any leftovers but.. just to make sure the poor thing doesn't starve to death.

Most of the jars have broken during initial earthquakes but two small jars of pickles seemed to be mostly alright. Without giving it much thought, she placed them in her backpack. Four bags of freeze-dried fruits quickly found their way into her pockets once she got a hold of them. Under a broken shelf, Nicola spotted an edge of some packet. Assuming it was just crackers or something, she reached into the rubble for it but once she pulled it out… she immediately regretted her decision. It was, in fact, not a bag of crackers. It was a whole, torn bag of soured cabbage coated in some strange growth - probably mould - she didn't get a chance to really look at because her attention was caught by something inside the bag. Probably squeezed in through the tear and got stuck, a small, bloated body of a gigantic, hellish critter. Instinctively, Nicola yelped quietly and without giving it much thought she lobbed the thing across the whole store before wiping her hand on the nearest piece of rag that wasn't her clothes. She didn't even get any of the spilling juices on her but… gross. Just gross. Ew ew ew! Ignoring the wet splat the bag made when it hit the floor wasn't an easy task. Still shaking off the disgust, she continued her search, noting to herself never to touch something she isn't sure what it is.

From there it thankfully was starting to go much smoother. Two packets of crispbread, some dark chocolate and a box of tea were found and collected. Nicola nearly cheered out loud when she spotted a few Snickers on a shelf. One she immediately opened and eagerly ate while the rest landed safely in her backpack. It might be mostly sugar with a bit of peanuts but it was a good snack that could deceive the brain for quite some time. To be frank, Nicola lived half of the high school on those whenever her lessons lasted too long for her breakfast to keep her sated. Besides, she couldn't imagine others would mind her bringing a bunch. Especially Marie. Jacob will most likely strangle Nicola if his daughter eats too much sweets but in the end it'll be worth it. Anything would be worth putting a smile on that sad little face.

Somewhere on the floor, Nicola even found a box of vitamins which luckily was not out of date yet. With a deficit of fruits and vegetables, those could be lifesavers. Especially for Leslie. She needs the most of it. Unfortunately, the space in her backpack was very much limited and soon she couldn't put anything more in there. Rearranging the contents of it, she put in one bottle of water, careful not to crush the crispbread and chocolate. At least she found something. Her escapade wasn't all for nothing when it comes to supplies. But even without those, she wouldn't say she regrets it. Against all the odds, she lived. And most importantly, she gained an otherworldly friend. And in times like these, a friend is something to be treasured.

Slinging her now much heavier backpack on her shoulders, she picked up her gun and headed towards the broken window she used as an entrance before. Peeking out from the store, she saw Raphael where she'd left him and a very much awake cat playfully attacking the longest quill of his left wing. His head perked up when she dropped onto the sidewalk beneath the window and she could've sworn she'd seen the corner of his mouth twitch upwards for a second there. Smiling, she unfolded her hands and shrugged.

"See? I keep my promises."

The angel hummed quietly before leaning his head against the wall behind him and closing his eyes. Nicola was about to ask if he's good to go but let the thought perish when she noticed his eyebrows furrow and his chapped lips twist into a slight grimace. Soon after, his right hand wandered up to his chest as he took a couple of quick and shallow breaths through his clenched teeth. If Nicola didn't know any better, she'd have said Raphael was having a heart attack. Can an angel even have an infarct? She honestly had no idea. In fact, she didn't even know how old he is. She couldn't tell. All the angels she'd met so far had white hair so that's not a hint to go by and his face didn't necessarily look old or young. He seemed as ageless as the time itself. Still, she didn't want to take any chances.

"Raphael? What's wrong?!"

She asked as she crouched beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder to steady him if needed. Raphael simply slowly shook his head and turned to look at her tiredly. And in his blank eyes she saw the already familiar pain and a spark of a silent plea.

"Just a little longer.. Let me rest a while…"

It took everything Nicola had in her to stop the sigh of relief. It didn't sit right with her that Raphael was still suffering and she could do absolutely nothing about it but hearing he's mostly fine, with only the usual ailing him, made her feel a tad easier. When his breathing grew slower and calmer, she even let herself slip down to the floor beside him.

"Sure. We have time, I guess.."

It was still relatively early, barely an hour or two after noon and Nicola wasn't that eager to return into the sky so soon. Only thinking about it made her feel a little sick. Hopefully, it wasn't too far to Haven from here. Even though Nicola really wanted to finally get home, she decided to be patient with her companion. He was wounded and most likely ill but he still tried his best to help her, even though he hadn't known her that long. He deserves a moment. Nicola too needed to sit down for a second as her thigh was still a bloody nuisance. Just a few more minutes. It wouldn't do harm to have a little break now, would it?

Yes. Yes it would. Nicola suddenly realised when she saw the kitten arc its back and puff its tail out. It hisses loudly before scurrying away into the store she just left and soon enough Nicola realised why once she looked into an alley ahead of her. The sight of a massive, winged shape made it painfully obvious. Her heart nearly ceased and Raphael beside her tensed at the sight of an enormous demon with curved horns and teeth, each the size of her palm, resembling a set of barbed knives made specifically to cut meat. The edges of long healed wounds that left behind terrible scars on her abdomen began to itch as she gawked at the familiar monster that nearly took her life. Flapping of gigantic wings that covered the sky with its expanse… Razor sharp claws curling around her body… the same talons tearing into her flesh as Ulthane attempted to free her from its grasp. And this shriek… oh God, this shriek…

Despite the apparent pain and exhaustion, Raphael slowly - not to agitate the demon - got up to his feet and raised his wings threateningly as he stepped in front of aghast Nicola. The fact that due to its bulkiness this thing seems almost twice as large as he is doesn't make an impression on him. Or maybe it does but he doesn't show it. The Fallen stared at Raphael with its small red eyes as a pair of Phantom Guards rounded a corner and joined the beast. Each carried a jagged blade that could easily tear through angelic armor. Nicola had seen it happen. Following them was another bloody Goreclaw. But these three she barely even noticed. Her wide eyes were focused on the larger demon. She felt her muscles refuse cooperation and seize. She couldn't move, couldn't speak. Her mind repeatedly screamed No nono no NO! Not like this!!

With excited roars, the lesser demons charged towards the angel standing between them and the weak, pathetic and helpless human as the Fallen spread its wings and took off into the air. Even as Nicola kept stone still, Raphael remained sharp and ready to act as always. One spell spilled past his lips and the flying demon instantly went rigid before plummeting back onto the ground and crashing into a broken car, setting its annoying alarm off. It didn't discourage the other three but it let Nicola find will to move and clutch her gun tighter. Ever since she'd met Raphael, he'd been doing nothing but getting her arse out of trouble. Taking a shaky breath she decided to start repaying favors.

Though, once again she didn't really have a chance to do anything as she was dumbstruck by the following scene playing out before her. As the hellish monsters charged, Raphael took his staff in both hands and held it before himself, closing his eyes and muttering an incantation in his melodious language. The moment the first demon stepped a tad too close, Raphael's eyes snapped open, burning like two white suns and a sleek ethereal blade materialized from the tip of what Nicola previously thought just an ornament or a walking cane. It glowed like the purest light ever to exist. Another assumption Nicola made about Raphael turned out to have been false. The last thing she can say about him is unarmed. He carried no blade, no gun or anything but who needs a weapon as lame as those when in addition to powerful sorcery you have a freaking lightsaber?

Everything lasted less than a second as the angel led a wide, sweeping slash of his spectral sword… spear thing… and promptly relieved the Phantom Guard of its horned head, before stopping the pouncing Goreclaw with a flick of his free hand, suspending it in the air growling and hissing. The other Phantom Guard had no chance to either attack the vulnerable angel or retreat, when Raphael was busy cutting down the quadrupedal demon, as Nicola came back to her senses and, instead of running like she always has, jumped forward and fired her shotgun. The resounding bang travelled through the entire city, bouncing off the walls and drifting far into the desolate town but it had the effect Nicola counted on.

The Phantom Guard staggered backwards with a chest full of buckshot, wheezed a couple times and tripped over onto its back never to get up again. With adrenaline still pumping through her veins, Nicola stared at the either dead or dying demon in wonderment, her brain trying to process what just happened, before releasing a breathless laugh of triumph. She killed one. She actually killed one! Raphael too seemed rather surprised but not unpleasantly so as he let the blade fade away.

"I got it! Did you see that?!"

"That indeed, I have.."

He said as he eyed her carefully, probably just to check if she's fine. Aside from a little fresh blood on his boots and hands, Raphael didn't seem to have gotten hurt in any way. Well… more than he'd already been at least. Nicola beamed up at him nearly bursting with pride at her actual first kill on a demon larger than her shin. And he seemed happy for her, if the soft smile he regarded her with could be an indication. But this victory didn't last long. Her own smile faded when she saw the Fallen stiffly getting up from where it slammed onto the ground, pure rage on its monstrous face. Her pulse began to race again but this time she refused to let the panic get a hold of her just yet.

"Watch out!!"

She cried too late, just a sliver of a second too late. Raphael whipped around to face the attacker and all he managed to do was raise his hand before the charging demon swung its head to the left. And with the force of a truck driving at the speed of fifty miles per hour, slammed it into the angel, making a formula of a spell die on his lips as he was sent flying through the air and crashing against a nearby building. The force of the impact caved in the wall and the kind, mad angel disappeared in a cloud of dust. All that was left were a couple of white feathers slowly falling to the ground.

"NO!"

Nicola didn't pay any mind to how her voice broke and squeaked pitifully when her heart leaped up into her throat. She could only stare at the place where Raphael vanished with a rumbling crash as the enraged demon growled in the same direction. Not a single part of her being agreed with what she'd just witnessed. A second before he was standing right there, like nothing was about to happen, distracted by her gushing over her first serious kill. Nothing should have happened, why did the demon unravel Raphael's magic just like that? Even a Shadowcaster didn't manage to do that! Why would this one? And why… Tears welled up in her eyes as her lower lip trembled… why did it have to… end the way it did…?

To make matters worse, the Fallen was still before her, still furious and thirsting for blood. Not wasting more time, Nicola pulled out a handful of new bullets and tried to reload her weapon but it proved almost impossible with how much her hands were shaking. Thank Christ, the demon was taking its sweet time as it faced her and began to lumber towards her on all fours, huffing out breaths stinking of rotting meat. Faster, faster, damn it! Nicola cursed inwardly when she dropped a couple of shells before she finally managed to place the ammunition where it should be. But when she looked up, the Fallen was on top of her already. Parting its jaws wide, ready to swallow her whole.

The scream of anguish that felt so tempting in the back of her throat never came to be. In a second, Nicola thought about all the horrors she'd lived through. All demons she'd met, all shambling corpses of former humans brought back by vile sorcery. All friends she'd made and lost.. Raphael, do just one thing for me. She gritted her teeth as her knuckles turned white from how she was gripping her weapon. Despair started to turn into rage. Burning bright and white hot inside of her, the flame Raphael had helped her see. Please, be alive when I come for you… The demon lunged forward to sever the string of her measly life by biting her in half. But Nicola wasn't going to let it get her so easily. Her fear was forgotten as she stuck the barrel of her shotgun into the monster's opened maw. She didn't want to die. Not now, not like this. For once she wanted to have a say over her own fate. Over the date of her demise. She is still young, she had a whole life ahead of her. And all those demonic dickheads with the Destroyer leading the charge decided to ruin everything and not only for her, but for every human who lives still and who has perished. And those who are yet to be born. She refused. She will not die. Not here. Not killed by that thing.

"FUCKOFF!!!"

And she fired. Partially, the sound was muffled by the demon's mouth snapping shut just barely missing Nicola's arms as she let go of her gun. The Fallen recoiled and began to shriek in pain, spitting out its own blood onto the concrete at its feet. Nicola didn't have delusions she could kill it but it gave her the precious seconds she needed. She ran for the closest hiding place available, which was the store she just left. Nicola leaped in through the broken window and quickly made it to the opposite wall to put as much distance between herself and the writhing monstrosity as possible. And it was a good choice.  A loud roar from the street made her heart fall into her heels as the injured demon finally gathered its bearings.

Nicola looked at the Fallen that was coming her way with murder in its eyes. The unexpected bout of courage has long faded and the petrifying fear once again had Nicola in its chilling grasp. Even with the mouthful of bullets, the Fallen did not intend to give up on its prey. And here she hoped it would piss off if she fed it with lead… Snarling and panting, the demon approached the broken window with its own blood pouring from between its sharp fangs. It only added to the menacing image of the beast that had Nicola trembling and frozen.

Think, Nicola, THINK! What can she do against an opponent far bigger, stronger and more dangerous than a single human without a weapon? The Fallen was trying to fit through the window, reaching out with its clawed paw to try and get her. Nicola looks around in panic, looking for anything that could save her. In a grocery store. Good luck. Eventually, she says "fuck it" and grabs a most likely rancid egg. The laughably small projectile splatters over the face of the demon with a squelch and even from far away Nicola is sure this egg was definitely rotten. Even the Fallen stops for a second to shake the disgusting goop off of its head but before it's done, another egg flies through the air and cracks on its head, just as stinky as the previous one.

"How'd ya, like that, asshole?! Wanna have some more?!"

Nicola yells at the demon, holding yet another egg, fully prepared to just chuck it at the monster. Unfortunately, all she managed to do was piss it off even further as its efforts in reaching her doubled. Pieces of plaster and bricks were coming loose as the demon tried to wriggle into the shop to finally kill that annoying pest lobbing small, smelly things at it. As a result, an egg once again hit the demon while Nicola kept shouting out profanities that probably made her poor mother toss and turn in her grave. She's not going down without a fight, even if the said fight is done by throwing eggs and all the gross shit she found on the floor. But she knew she isn’t getting out of this one.

And so, this is it. Nicola couldn't believe she would die by the claws of the same creature that nearly killed her once before. Was Ulthane rescuing her only delaying the inevitable? What a sick joke… Why does fate insist on being cruel? There was so much she wanted to say, so many apologies she had to give… so little time… There was nothing she could do. At least… she will see Nicholas again.. her parents and every friend she'd lost in this cursed apocalypse. A miracle would've been nice. A tiny one. Just this once. Please?

And boy, did she get her wish. A sudden force violently tearing the Fallen out of the shop nearly startled her out of her dirty and tattered jeans. Hardly believing her eyes, she watched as her would-be killer screeched in rage and surprise when it was wrenched free from the ruined window and was gone from her vision. A sudden tremor shook the whole building, sending small bits of debris raining down on her head as a mighty roar reverberated through her very bones. But it wasn't the Fallen. It was something meaner. Something… Nicola swallowed thickly at the thought… bigger. Or at least as large as this fucker. Then came clacking of metal, ungodly screeching of the demon. A second later Nicola saw as it was flung through the air like a sack of potatoes and crashed against a block of flats. Instant karma. She thinks with bitter satisfaction when she remembers what that faggot did to Raphael. I need to somehow get to him. Honestly though, she doesn't really want to know what managed to just YEET a Fallen like a skipping rock.

Unfortunately, she finds out and finds out quite soon. From her hideout, she sees an enormous creature, nearly as big as the demon that threatened her, charging towards the stunned monster still bleeding from its mouth. If Nicola had been terrified of the Fallen, then she was on the verge of having a straight out SCA after seeing this chunk of a behemoth. Whatever this thing was, it was the size of an average tree. Its armored hide was burning with red and white flames which were enveloping twin jagged, metal whips it held in its hands. Vestigial wings were trembling with wrath as it turned its radiant white eyes at the battered demon. Between a pair of sweeping horns that crowned its head was a flickering blaze that flared with each step the monstrosity took towards its quarry. Right.. What's the best way to get rid of a monster? Sic a stronger monster on it. The Fallen shrugged off and growled at its new assailant, challenging it to a fight.

While the two beasts were circling one another, battling she couldn't even guess what for, Nicola braced for what was to come. This is a horrible idea. Breath in and breath out. In and out. And when the Fallen pounced at its attacker, she bolted. Not stopping, she ran. Through the street the demons were fighting on, past them - so close she could feel the heat radiating off of the newcomer - and into the building Raphael disappeared in. Nicola hoped she was ready for what she was about to find. She really did. Jumping in through the punched in wall however, she soon found out she was, in fact, not ready. The moment she entered, she immediately caught the sight that made something squeeze inside of her.

On a pile of rubble from the destroyed wall was Raphael coated in dust. Still. Not moving, his mesmerising white eyes shut. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh God, oh NO! Not thinking, all fear and uncertainty she ever felt in his presence was long cast away, Nicola rushed over to him pleading, begging everything that would listen for him to be alive. Don't leave me here like this… Dropping at his side into the rubble, Nicola lays her ear on the top of his chest and doesn't let herself relax until she hears a heartbeat and a shallow breath within. Words cannot describe how much she deflated once she did. He's still alive.. but he doesn’t look good.

"Raphael! Please say something! Can you hear me?!"

Thankfully, angel's eyes lolled open as she spoke to him, hinting that he indeed can hear her. Trying his best to keep his unfocused gaze on her face, Raphael furrowed his eyebrows and lifted his upper lip in a pained sneer as his hand wandered up to clutch at his side where the demon's heat struck him.

"Nnn… Nnii… co…"

He weakly attempted to speak but without much success. No joke, he must've hit his head really hard and she dreaded to think about the state of his ribcage.. But hey! At least he hears and understands what Nicola is saying. And it's a good sign.. right…? Wasting no more time, Nicola helped him sit up, keeping her hand on his forehead to steady him as his own palm rested over hers. Even squinting in pain, Raphael kept looking at her, as though she was the only point of focus he could think of.

"Hang in there, okay?! Please, Phel.. We'll be fine…"

Liar. Something snaps at her. They're pretty much defenseless and vulnerable with a very livid demon still threatening them. One or the other will come out victorious. And to the victor go the spoils… Raphael tried to say something but still couldn't formulate words properly due to the splitting headache pulsing through his entire skull. Though even through ringing in his head and pain in his chest that somehow rivaled the one he constantly felt, he found something in this human's words that baffled him. In her panic, Nicola doesn't catch a puzzled look he sends her way.

Phel?

A choked up cry of a dying demon made them both jump a little and look out through the hole Raphael made when the demon gored him. Just in time to see the flaming beast standing on top of the Fallen and strangling it with its whips. Then, the creature of… quite blatantly feminine curves gave one sharp tug and the demon's head was brutally severed from the rest of its body. And everything fell silent.

Instinctively, Nicola halted her breath and ceased any movement, watching the winner (Nicola felt fully comfortable with calling it per "she" now) shoot a glance towards her and Raphael who by this point tiredly laid his head on her shoulder, heaving in attempts to draw a proper breath. The creature approached slowly, keeping Nicola frozen in place and desperately holding onto her injured friend. When the demon was at the wall, only her massive legs were visible. Seconds ticked by as a set of claws rested above the opening to the house, and a monstrous head loomed through the hole.

That would be more than enough to make Nicola pass right the Hell out but.. Something about this creature intrigued her. It didn't have a snarling, toothy maw but an almost featureless face with the curve of a nose and a pair of bright and ferocious, intelligent eyes. It stared at her with more understanding than any demon Nicola had ever seen. Whatever it was, it didn't seem aggressive for some weird reason. At least not yet.. Then, unexpectedly, the creature was enveloped in red flames as its humongous form began to shrink and reshape into something much smaller but still a good two heads taller than an average human.

From the hot light emerged a very humanlike woman in intricate metal armor. Black tattoos marked her stern face around her luminous, white eyes and on her forehead, right below the line of incredibly dense magenta colored hair which floated freely around her head, defying gravity like it's the most natural thing in the world. Whoever it was, even with an intimidating aura of strength and resolve, her close resemblance to a human calmed Nicola somewhat. Plus, she had to admit that this woman had the looks. Men would probably be killing one another for her. Honestly, Nicola felt kind of jealous.. But considering she was still pretty much helpless with a half-conscious angel leaned against her, it didn't put her fully at ease. At least until the stranger spoke in plain English. Then Nicola finally released the breath she was holding. Crossing her arms, the tall lady sneered slightly at the human and angel before her.

"Well, would you look at that. Guess it's your lucky day today."

--------------------------------------------------

It's finally done, my goodness! This one was hard to get right but I made it. Don’t ask me how i managed to finish it with two pictures, I have no clue :I

Fury makes an appearance! Badass as always. :D

Also, can I get an F for Raphael's poor ribs?

#darksiders #darksiders 3 #darksiders fury #darksiders raphael #raphael #fury #darksiders OC #human survivor oc #CoK #cost of kindness #chapter IV

[bumbershots]

A CERTAIN ROMANCE

CHAPTER THREE: WHO ARE YOU?

Author’s note: Hello! Once more I would like to thank you all for the love this story’s been getting, it truly blows my mind. I am also looking for a beta reader so if anyone out there is interested let me know! (: Let’s pick up right where we left off...

Story masterlist ** Word count: 2.3K **

Two souls don't find each other by simple accident, Harry thought after taking a seat for the first time that night, his feet were probably going to be swollen tomorrow, they were killing him already. But he wasn't keen on turning down a dance from the girl collapsing in the settee right next to him. A slow Amy Winehouse song was their cue to rest.

"Do you want a beer?" Her voice sounded a bit hoarse, probably from all the giggling and singing she did while dancing the night away.

"Yes please."

He watched her trot to the small bar on the other side of the flat, focused on how the multiple bracelets bounced in her left wrist as she instructed her brother which beer to give her. As she came back to take her previous seat, he felt a small wave of anxiety for wanting nothing more than to start a conversation with her, as she handed him the beer. Usually it was the other way around, but in most of the cases, people wanted to know his persona.

He knew the silence was becoming awkward, but he was still debating whether to ask about her upbringing or what she did for work, whatever the case was, he didn't want to make a fool out of himself, he almost never seemed to be that lucky.

"You're not used to people being calm around you, are you?" Alma’s frown os curiosity is a mirror to the one on the musician's face.

"Yes and no?" Harry's coy tone makes her smile warmly and shake her head in denial, "so, I'm Hampstead station guy?" Her eyes widen, a shy smile appears on her full lips before she takes another large sip of her drink.

"It's unlikely to find the same person thrice in the tube! I told my friend Laura, it felt like a glitch in the matrix." She answers and he lets out an amused laugh.

"For the record, I wasn't following you, at all..."

"I know, you just had to take the same line I did and it was a happy coincidence," she interrupts him, the new song gathers a few more dancers and Harry wonders if she will ask him to dance again, "although it would've made a great anecdote for my YouTube channel; story time, a famous musician follows me around the city possibly plotting my painful death." She joked as she gingerly flashed her hands before the two of them, as if presenting the latest play from the West End.

It was Harry's eyes turn to be wide and smack his hand into his forehead.

"You have a YouTube channel?" His interest was genuine and Alma made herself more comfortable on the sofa, before proceeding to fill him in about what that was about, just videos about her 'sort of interviewing remarkable people' or so she claimed.

It was something that started as a class project back when she was seventeen, trying to get good grades to win a scholarship and study abroad —none of those things happened. She kept doing it afterwards because it was too much fun, once she interviewed all her friends, she moved onto her family. "Believe me when I tell you, that I have more relatives than I should!" With a smile as big as hers, he sighed before breathing 'lucky' as his heart sped and she continued.

Restaurant owners, chefs, firefighters, barristers, doctors, accountants, waitresses, sexual workers, sex shop employees, bankers, homeless people, hairdressers and apparently every person from her home country had been on the informal interview series. Harry was impressed with the whole concept and her.

"I sort of abandoned it a little when I moved here last year, it was crazy busy the first couple of months and the whole bureaucracy... and I was a little homesick to be honest." For the first time in the night, her voice is thinner, he has to lean in a few inches to hear better, "I miss my parents, my cousins, my aunt, my grandparents. But this is something I've wanted for the longest time you know?" Her eyes bore into his, allowing him to see the vulnerability swimming in them, "I've never felt like an outsider here, never got lost in the tube, took the wrong bus or anything like that. Isn't it weird?" Harry smiled at the sentiment, thoughts of his latest trip to Japan flashing before him.

"No, I think it's marvellous that you feel that way." He cannot be real, is the only thing running through her mind like a restless hamster in its wheel.

Harry and Alma talked about everything they didn’t have in common, despite the brief interruptions to do some shots and drink champagne with the birthday boy. Their families were discussed, their favourite things to do in the summer. Alma even asked him how was work going, as if she didn’t know that he was one of th world’s most successful artists. Harry was thrilled to joke through their drinks and the girl wasn't shy to ask him for a couple more dances. None of them noticed the partying dying around them, it was only after Fernando said his goodbyes to his laughing sister, that they noticed how late/early it actually was.

Before they knew it, golden hues streamed through the window behind them as Freddie walked out of his room and offered them coffee.

"I'm never drinking straight vodka again," Freddie mumbled to himself after finishing his cup of coffee.

"At least it wasn't Vodquila like last time," Alma's words make him groan but agree. "I should go now, need a shower and a healthy breakfast."

After Harry also admitted he needed to be on his way, with all their belongings gathered and after saying goodbye to a very ill Freddie, neither Harry or Alma looked forward to their imminent separation. He had spent hours hearing how busy she is, when not recording content, she was working at Wenzel's and teaching Spanish to her neighbour's daughter on the weekends. Still, he was determined to meet with her again.

As soon as they started moving down the street, Harry noticed the next one was where he had to turn right in order to go home. It wasn't a short walk but the most effective route for sure.

"So, the bus stop is that way," Alma nodded her head to the left, smirking knowingly as she stuffs her hands in her coat pockets.

"Of course," they had come to a rolling stop at the corner. Harry suddenly felt beyond nervous about asking the girl for her phone number. "Thank you, for keeping me company last night." It was amazing he wanted to add, but licked his lips quickly instead.

"You mean keeping you from catching up with all your friends," she corrected him.

Harry shakes his head and smiles, the dimples graciously adorning his cheeks, his racing heart giving him the last push needed to finally ask. "Do you think we could go, like for coffee... sometime?” With that she laughed, immediately memorising the sound of it, her loud cackle is one of the nicest things he has heard in awhile.

"Only if I can buy you something from the selection of pastries." Harry laughed loudly, completely relieved by her answer. She dug around her purse for a moment before taking out a pen and what seemed to be an old receipt, quickly scribbling down her number and handing it to him.

"I'll call you," he beamed, carefully placing the piece of paper in his wallet. He'd be an idiot to lose such a precious fragment of information.

"Looking forward to it," Alma smiled at him for one last time before she started walking to the opposite direction. "See you around Harry." His face was a bit puffy from not having slept properly, but she would be lying to say he didn’t look adorable at the same time.

He waved and watched her walked away, her sweet and tired morning smile seemed to be engraved into the musician's mind as he headed home.

The air was still a bit cold, but the heat was starting to rise and plague London for the rest of the day, the hot summer everyone's been yearning for was finally here, even Harry could feel it in his bones as he continued down his path. He was still highly enamoured by the amazing night he spent sharing a piece of himself with Alma. His feet felt heavy, were even burning a little, but it was nothing as he made his way through his home gate twenty minutes later.

He decided to get some toast and a cuppa for breakfast, his high spirits not faltering even one bit although he could feel the consequences from the all-nighter already with each yawn. After eating he decided to take a shower that got him ready for a well deserved sleep in his comfortable bed.

Waking up around six o'clock startles him at first, Harry is well rested now but a bit grumpy for the weird taste on his tongue, something usual after drinking beer. He scolds himself for not brushing his teeth earlier as he walks in his bathroom. The cool tiles against his bare feet wake him up a bit more. After some needed dental hygiene, Harry gets dressed to go out and pick up his sister for their weekly dinner. Hopefully he can convince her to stay in, that way he can go on and on about the events from the night before.

His feet still hurt, he can even feel a blister underneath his big toe. But it doesn't bother him, it's actually a nice reminder of the incredible things that miraculously happened. Harry knew that since Alma was related to Fernando, someone that was bound to be in his life for the next six months or so, there was a big chance they would've met at some point. But he'd rather think it was fate, some sort of good karma coming round, he stared at her contact on his phone, still charmed by the fact that she gave it to him on the back of a receipt. Ignoring that she only did it that way, because the thought of asking for his mobile to enter it herself, was a very bold move. And Alma wasn’t really that confident, not when his green eyes were boring into hers anyway.

"When are you gonna call her then?" Gemma's voice snaps him out of his daydream for the third time during their quiet dinner in her flat. "What is it? You've got that look."

"What look?" He asks before his sister frowns and pinches her bottom lip with her thumb and index finger. It's his nervous quirk, he sighs, "I don't know, I'm just so nervous." Without a valid reason, he knows the girl is so lovely, maybe that's why.

"You're afraid of fucking it up," she knows, Harry nods. "Well, you could tell her that, perhaps on a text—

"—I want to call her, texting her will make me feel a wanker." Gemma smiles at her little brother, he looked uncharacteristically unsure of himself but nonetheless excited. It was endearing how the first thing he told her after crossing her home's threshold was 'my life is officially a chick flick!' Before proceeding to explain with detail about the whole situation.

"What about a text that reads: hello, this is Harry please save my number so when I find the guts to call you, you don't think it's a telemarketing scam," Gemma might be joking and mocking him all at once, but has a point. A text so she also has his number, makes the situation more even, she can call him too. "Assuming she gave you a real phone number."

"What?" Harry is mortified.

"I'm kidding, you should've seen your face," his sister wanted to drag a bit more her joke, but the preoccupied look on his face stopped her. Gemma couldn't wait to tell their mum, knowing that she would be just as absorbed. "There's nothing wrong with showing interest right away. If you want this to be honest and genuine, set an example." She finished before taking the last bite of pizza.

Harry knew that to be true, but now he was left wondering if it was the right time for him. Had he really left behind all the ghosts and baggage from his past? Or was he still carrying them in the new tattoos of his knees?

Despite his sister's encouraging words about how nothing could go wrong this early with Alma, he couldn't help but wonder if his still grieving heart was ready.

He takes his time walking back home, not caring if it was a really long one, he was aware of the curious eyes once he reached the Southbank but paid no attention to them. He welcomed the chill breeze, hoping for it to cool his boiling mind. Remembering the last time he walked along the river arms around his former flame, her laughter still ringing in his ears, her tender kisses in his knuckles, her delicious scent flying away with the airstream into London's sunshine.

Missing someone is not wrong, Harry reminds himself.

There's no point going down the rabbit hole of what ifs about their relationship. Harry can admit his mistakes, no matter how hard it comes to him, he can also apologise wholeheartedly. He did all those things already, months ago. Which is why he was able to keep her as a friend, not a close one, more like an acquaintance. And she's happy, he can see that, knows it.

Why does he feel like he's still drowning? He's already been pulled from the vast ocean of hers. Harry groans, struggles to open his gate, his good spirits from this morning nowhere to be found.

He doesn't know if it's the memory of her, the fear of loneliness, coincidence and laziness, or a bad habit? But he doesn't text the girl with warm brown eyes, instead he plays the voicemail that sometimes haunts his nightmares, on repeat, for the rest of the night.

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#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oc #harry styles series #harry styles #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #harry styles fanfic #a certain romance #harry styles ou

[morethanaloveinterest]

A Melancholy Review of Natasha Romanoff's Costumes in Endgame

With Infinity War tossed in there, since she only wears one outfit in that. Let's talk about the most comfortable clothes she ever wears on screen.

At the very beginning of Endgame, this is what she's wearing in the compound while they discuss dealing with the aftermath of the war. Not a leather jacket, but a fitted cloth jacket (not a hoodie, I don't think). She has the usual silhouette without the leather, making her recognizable despite the dyed hair.

Female representation: 9/10 I think it's great that she got to dress down from the battle for the exposition scene. And she's still fully dressed and covered, unlike several other characters in this part.

Practicality: 8/10 I would expect it's as practical as her other civilian clothes - we don't see too much of it to know for certain, though.

This is obviously her Infinity War outfit, which she wears at the beginning of Endgame to go after Thanos. It has a lot of upgrades from the previous appearance in Civil War, which I'll get more into in another post on her suits. In any case, I think it's very appropriate to go to war in - she has all kinds of weapons on her person as well as actual armored sections. Plus the vest is super cute. It probably has a ton of pockets.

Female representation: 10/10 It’s awesome. Compared to some of the other female characters in these scenes, she is surprisingly the one showing the least skin AND the least body-hugging (surprising because it would be more her character archetype to have such clothes even in impractical situations).

Practicality: 10/10 Nat's very practical and, as I said, this looks about as prepared for a battle as what everyone else is wearing (except those in metal suits, of course). She can move easily, she has kneepads and shoulder pads - she's ready.

After the 5 year jump, we meet her still running the Avengers (unlike the useless male Avengers who have all wandered away). She's not dressed up for it, since she's not even wearing shoes (she does have her ballet shoes sitting on another chair, which is a great detail). Anyway, she also puts on a cute grey hoodie later - the first time we've seen her wear something like that outside of a disguise.

Female representation: 9/10 Glad to see we don't have the classic example of female breakdown as directed by a man. She's still dressed comfortably and her pain isn't there for us to gaze at - she's upset, but she's getting by on her own. More importantly, contrast this shoeless scene to the only other time she's been barefoot (the beginning of Avengers). Definitely a different vibe here that I appreciate.

Practicality: 8/10 It’s Nat, so I'm sure it's very practical. Probably for the best that she didn't face a fight in it, though, since she's not wearing shoes.

I put the outfits she wears the plan the heist together since we don't get much of them to discuss separately. The green jacket is reminiscent of her endless leather jackets (but does not seem to be). In the five years, it's pretty clear that she's gotten more casual with her style and less interested in form-fitting clothes. Which makes a lot of sense to me.

Female representation: 10/10 I love domestic Nat. There is no emphasis on anything you might expect from someone called a Black Widow. She doesn't wear anything especially tight or seductive. She's not dressed as a superhero - just as a regular person.

Practicality: 8/10 I'm sure it's all reasonably practical. I don't see anything she couldn't fight in, and most could easily hide any number of helpful gadgets. We don't see her get up to much beyond take notes, though, so I can't say for sure.

I wasn't going to talk about this one, since it's on screen so briefly and is all CGI, apparently? But I did just want to point out how pleased I am that the ladies didn't have suits that look dramatically different from the men's. No separated boobs here, it's great.

Female representation: 9/10 Slightly gendered, so it doesn't get 100%, but it's extremely good. Especially since both genders are dressed the same (essentially). Her chest plate might have a bit of a curve, but everyone else has the same white inset shape and everything, so it's not there to draw attention to her chest or whatever.

Practicality: 10/10 I have no idea how it works, but I must assume it's extremely practical for time heists or they wouldn't all be wearing it.

Her final suit. It's more feminine than the one from Infinity War, I think (though I can't point to what exactly gives that impression). It's the most detailed version we've seen, which is fun. Probably the most practical boots (after infinity war).

Female representation: 9/10 Thankfully no boob cups. The intricate pattern on her torso is cool without drawing the eye to her chest. We're a long way from the original design in IM2, and even that was a great departure from the comics skin-tight suit.

Practicality: 10/10 Obviously Nat is prepared for anything. Even though she doesn't face any bad guys while wearing it, so I guess we'll never know how it held up compared to the others.

Check out my other costume ratings here

Please come listen to me talk about Natasha’s character arc in each movie on Youtube - the whole 6-part series out now!

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natalia romanova #costume reviews #avengers: infinity war #avengers: endgame #mcu: infinity war #mcu: endgame