#every year he suffers the plight

[merakiui]

never-ending noctuary; love forevermore.

yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, non-con, overblot!malleus, obsession, breeding, baby-trapping, malleus is written to have two dicks, spoilers for part two of book seven note - and sitting powerful on his throne of thorns, omniscience at his fingertips, the lord of malevolence takes a bride.

An eerie, all-consuming quiet has fallen over Sage’s Island.

It is frigid and unfriendly like winter. Harsh and oppressive like silence. Painful and abrasive like brambles. Time has come to a swift halt here, and with it the people fall into never-ending euneirophrenia. Delights so dreamy shall inhabit the minds of all who sleep, the grandest gift granted to those unwilling. Like fate itself, wound around every living soul, it is inescapable. Inevitable like death—unfair and unforgettable.

But then it is also peaceful and secure. Quaint and warm like a blanket. Fluffy and floral like spring’s first kiss. Solace is far sweeter when spent in oneiric solitude, and so it will seem for one-thousand years. Forevermore, stretched taut into the future, the dream persists.

Is that not the best blessing? To those who wish to savor a fleeting moment just a second more, is this not a wish granted generously tenfold? Rather than immortalizing the past with photographs, it shall never come to pass. There is no need for bittersweet recollections or tearful farewells. The present will persevere, lived out in endless dreams.

Surely this is the correct course. Not just for Malleus, for he is a gentle, kind creature who recognizes the mutual desire for interminable merriment, but for the entirety of the island. Although in hoping for love forevermore, he has shackled himself to selfish, Epicurean pleasures. The type which normally lasts as long as a vision spent on cloud nine.

Currently, sitting proud and alone on a cold throne, Malleus knows of no greater joy.

The party may have fallen still as the grave, bodies slumbering in stiff propinquity, but it hasn’t finished. The food may have congealed, inedible and decaying, but it is there. A testament to spirits kept aloft, if only to ensure no one ever knows the desolation of endings.

Paradise is what you make of it. Thus, should you hope for it, you can walk on the clouds in your mind and never know of Icarus’s plights. You can shed insecurities and anxieties and taste delectable metamorphosis. You can be anyone and anything. You can be strong and wealthy. You can be fearless and heroic. You can be an impossible ideal.

You can be loved.

Malleus watches your seemingly lifeless form splayed on the sofa, limbs draped over that of Ace and Deuce. It’s a tranquil sight, a marionette freed from the strings of somber, suffocating life.

Under a roof of thorns, you are reborn.

Paradise is wondrous for Malleus, albeit a touch silent. He wonders what you might say if you were to stand at his side and observe this eternal slumber party. Would it fill you with awe? With appreciation? With abject terror?

Perhaps there is no use in theorizing. He doesn’t need to know, for you will love him even in sleep.

He rises, taking each step at a time. Thorny branches and roots part to make way for him, a groom traversing the aisle in search of his bride. You lie still, secrets sealed behind pretty, plush lips, and if he was not the cause for your current state he might assume you were late.

But there is no death here. It cannot reach. It will never reach because Paradise knows not of death or suffering.

Paradise is the garden before the infestation. Paradise is the body before bacterial devastation. Paradise is love before departed lamentation.

Malleus gazes at your restful face, leaning down to trace a clawed, blot-tainted finger along your cheek. There are no tears; you are a doll incapable of such sorrow, sculpted to portray perfect neutrality. He is most pleased with this development, his chest rumbling with a triumphant chuckle. Now you shall never know an ending ever again. Now you shall remain here, safe and stagnant in his arms, far from the mirror that may allow you to return home.

Gathering your body in his arms, he lifts you from the cushions. You crumble in his grasp, head lolling and arms noodling at your sides. Sagging dead weight, but he places his ear to your chest to listen to the melodic thrum of your heart. You’re alive, frailty shielded from the horrors of the world. Here, in thorny idyll, you will live forevermore.

Historically, all rulers must have someone to call their own. Whether it be by way of arrangement or convenience, strung together for the sake of conjoined power or out of obligation, this is an irrefutable fact. Historically, all rulers must bear an heir—someone to carry on the glory of an ever-present lineage.

Malleus refuses to bring a child into the world unless they are given the blessing of the one thing he was deprived of since birth.

A mother.

You fit in his embrace, a puppet tugged into a one-sided waltz. He steps over fallen bodies as he holds you against his chest, following the routine even though you aren’t awake to reciprocate.

Historically, a married pair must share the first dance. Or that’s what he’s read in fairy tales.

There are no rings here; promises are left unspoken. He won’t entertain rejection because there is no room for it in Paradise. Every unsavory, horrid thing—pestilence and pain, death and destruction, and sadness and sin—is packed away in Pandora’s box and shelved. Malleus won’t risk opening it to release the tiny shred of hope desperately clawing for escape. It’s not worth it.

He will foster his own hope if he must, and she exists in his arms—beautifully motionless.

The steps are executed with care, up the stairs and towards a lonesome chair. He attempts a twirl, lowering you into a dip. Your arms hang limply, eyes shut in permanence. Brimming with fondness, Malleus tugs you back up to press his lips to your forehead.

“Dearest one,” he mumbles, “may you know many fruitful fantasies in the arms of Morpheus.”

He reclaims his seat and situates you to face him while perched on his lap. You slump against him, near-boneless. He smiles at you, imagining the ruckus that would certainly come about from such a daring gesture. Sebek would squawk at you to have more respect and dignity. Silver would tut and shake his head. Lilia would look on in amusement.

These are small pleasantries, little wishes he hopes to witness someday.

Historically, a married pair must consummate their bond.

Malleus’s fingertips flit across your figure, feeling fabric beneath his palms. He tries to exercise restraint and take it slow—everything in moderation, Lilia would remind him—but he can’t contain his nympholepsy. Your clothes are discarded at once, shredded to scraps in his haste. He moves clumsily, following the searchlight of intrinsic ardor. You’re softer when bare, he observes, peeling your bra from your skin. A pallid hand presses down onto your breast, the pudge of which caves beneath his fingers. He withdraws and it bounces back to its shape.

Fascinating, he marvels with wide, enchanted eyes.

Claws tweak at your hardened nipples next. He’s careful because you’re notably weaker. Even in sleep, he must mind his hedonism. Too much and you will break. Too little and he’ll be left unsatisfied. Malleus watches your expression. It was mostly neutral, but now your eyebrows are twitching in response to his touch.

In sleep, you are the most vulnerable.

He knows this because he’s peered in from afar, admiring you through a glass barrier while you slept unaware in Ramshackle. He would never do anything without invitation. Though it may not be in writing, your body is oh-so-inviting. And he indulges because he’s only known this fervor in the deepest, darkest dreams.

Curiously, in his pursuit of passion, Malleus happens upon the special space between your legs. Delicate like a flower, it’s the prettiest part of your anatomy. If he wishes to connect with you, to tie himself to you in unholy communion, he must acquaint himself with this sliver of seventh heaven. He’s never seen one up close; the sight is foreign but very welcome. He drinks it in, burning your form into his retinas. Two fingers trace your labia, stroking along flowery folds in V-shaped strokes. You twitch in his arms, an unconscious, knee-jerk reaction.

At some point, in the middle of his experimental exploration, Malleus begins to hum. It’s a soft, genial lilt. Low and soothing, the lullaby fills the silent halls of Diasomnia’s common room like poison gas.

He contemplates whether this is enough. Can you feel these sensations even when you’re so deep in your dreams? Perhaps so, for when he brushes back the hood protecting your clit to rub at it you soak his fingers. Lubricious, your wetness shimmers on his fingertips when he pulls them away to admire the very essence of you. Without hesitation, he places his fingers on the pad of his tongue to clean both. It’s a divine taste, proof of pleasure.

You cannot speak, so instead your body does so for you. A most bewitching behavior.

Malleus’s hand slithers back towards home, his fingers sliding in with surprising ease. Gummy walls cling to slender digits, embracing the intrusion as if it’s meant to be. With each pump of his fingers, your body warms. The sinful squelch of scissoring fingers joins his humming in a salacious song. Every now and then, you spasm in his arms, your lips parting ever so slightly to release a sigh or a breathy moan. It’s musical, a whimsy he’s only just discovered.

“My beautiful bride,” Malleus croons, “you will know love in my arms. Love forevermore, here in this sanctuary. Fear not, for I have done away with all that may terrify and traumatize.”

Pressure is straining beneath the belt, an itch that must be promptly dealt with. Removing his fingers, he shifts you on his lap so that he may free his cocks from confinement. Twin monstrosities curve towards his stomach; perhaps you’d have been frightened if you were awake to behold them. His hand settles on the small of your back, steadying you as he lines one of them up with your body. The tip just reaches past your navel. For a moment, Malleus ponders whether he might break you.

Careful now, he can hear Lilia’s chiding. Impatience will lead to injury.

He heeds the unspoken warning, lifting you with both hands until the head of his cock is kissing your pussy. And then, slowly, he lowers you down onto him. Your pussy stretches around him, a snug squeeze that only grows tighter with every inch swallowed. Malleus pulls you flush against his chest when he’s halfway slotted, his breathing staggered. Your body quivers, walls fluttering around him, while his other unsheathed cock presses against your navel. Pre-cum smears on your stomach.

He’s determined to cherish you, thrusting all the way to the hilt after a few determined tries. It’s a firm fit, but it’s still bliss. Hissing through his teeth, brows knitted in concentration, Malleus wraps his arms around you and fucks. Mindless, mostly, but with the intent to reach the only acceptable end here: orgasmic ecstasy. He makes up for the lack of motion on your part by moving his hips to meet yours as he rocks you up and down. Whimpers slip past your lips; he shushes you with song, humming through groans and grunts.

This is love.

Malleus thinks so when he positions your hands over his other untouched cock. The illusion doesn’t last long because your hands are quick to fall away. Instead, he grasps your hand, guides it back to his shaft, and pumps himself using your precious palm for friction.

You’re bounced up and down in a parody of consensual copulation. Malleus dwells in imagination, picturing you in a wedding gown. He considers what you might say, the vows you would undoubtedly swear, and the sweet nothings you’d exchange late into the evening. He’d twirl you across an elegant ballroom while everyone looks on with tender adoration and reverence. He’d show you the stars hanging just within reach, and when you’re swept up in riveting romance the sky is tangible and dreams are spun from sugar.

He’d place you on his bed, stripping you of your dress, hands trailing up to tug the frilly garter from your thigh, and you’d smile at him, open your arms and welcome him with mutual affection. You’d bloom for him like a moonflower, your heart beating in sync with his, as he fulfills the final promise—one so bodily imperative. An oath to disturb desolate halls with noise. To hear the pitter-patter of tiny footfalls upon stone floors—he can’t imagine anything more harmonious.

You would soften throughout the months, bright with that foretold pregnancy glow. He would press his hands to your rounded belly and feel squirming within, restless kicks and nudges. You’d discuss potential names over breakfast, and he would hover even though he knows you’re plenty capable. But he worries because you’re so fragile and fleeting. So pretty. So round with child. He wouldn’t leave you alone for a moment; you’re far too enchanting. Perhaps, in some distant future, he’ll lower to the height of your stomach and sing to the baby.

A smile would tug at your lips and you’d reach down to pat his head, running your fingers over his horns. And then— 

Malleus cracks his eyes open, his breath hot against your face. His chest heaves as he comes down from the high of domestic daydreams to find your stomach spattered with cum. Swallowing thickly, he peers between your bodies at your pussy stretched around his other cock.

Oh, he came inside.

Unexpectedly. Or perhaps not, for this was his intention. But once is not nearly enough, and he must fill you until you’re fit to burst—until it’s biologically certain you’re pregnant.

An emotion flickers on your face. Malleus mistakes it for jubilation, the type which calls forth a sunshower on your cheeks. He kisses the tears trailing down your face, ending at your lips for a chaste peck.

This is not the finale. It is simply the beginning.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere malleus draconia #yandere malleus draconia x reader #yandere malleus x reader #yandere malleus #n/sfw #tw: noncon #tw: breeding #tw: baby trapping #tw: somnophilia

[thethief1996]

For the past 100 days, Israel has been waging a genocide campaign in Gaza without any sort of reprieve from western countries. Palestinians are suffering from a human-made famine, surpassing the scale and speed of any other famine enforced in the past 75 years. Healthcare professionals are being cornered into Rafah by constant airstrikes, sniper attacks and bombardments at hospitals, forced to leave patients and medical supplies behind. Unmaned quadcopters opened fire on the maternity and ICU unities of Al Aqsa Martyrs hospital and killed 8 civilians. Yesterday, the hospital ran out of fuel and the babies in incubators might die anytime soon. Only 127 aid trucks are being allowed into Gaza of the 500 allowed before the war, under "normal" blockade conditions. The distribution of food and water is made basically impossible by the destruction of communications and the looming threat of executions against people gathered to receive it. Just today snipers killed 3 people in line to receive food in Gaza City and Israel officials have the gall to say the problem is that humanitarian organizations, whose volunteers are being executed at unprecedent rates, aren't putting in enough effort. The IDF drops leaflets telling desperate refugees to flee and then station tanks on the roads or bombs the safe zones.

Ever since I read South Africa's submission to the ICJ I can't stop thinking about how they label it as the demication of Gaza and its people. On every sphere of the government, there are statements calling for the anihilation of the people of Gaza (pages 59 to 67). The Prime Minister has directly adressed the army telling them to wipe off the amalekites (page 60), and South Africa showed tiktoks of the soldiers repeating his speech word for word before committing massacres. And yet they have the gall to come to the world and say they haven't targeted hospitals, they haven't withheld aid and that the statements are "random assertions." To prove that Netanyahu isn't a blood thirsty pig, they pasted a statement he made ONE DAY before the hearing started, which is frankly ridiculous we're supposed to believe isn't a PR stunt (page 34).

No western outlet streamed the highest stake court hearing in the 21st century, but you can rest assured they streamed Israel's pathetic defense. And Canada, Germany, the UK and the US, countries which have in no way reckoned with their own genocidal pasts, have come forward in defense of Israel like they have any moral high ground to patronize the world about genocide.

Take action, for their sake. Motaz has said "Don't call yourself a free person if you can't make changes. If you can't stop a genocide that is still ongoing". We need to fight in any way we can to stop their massacre.

Keep yourself updated and share Palestinian voices. Muna El-Kurd said every tweet is like a treasure to them, because their voices are repressed on social media and even on this very app. Make it your action item to share something about the Palestinian plight everyday. Here are some resources:

Al Jazeera, Anadolu Agency, Mondoweiss

Boycott Divest Sanction Movement

Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing protests and direct action against weapons factories across the US

Mohammed El-Kurd (twitter / instagram)

Muhammad Shehada (twitter)

Motaz Azaiza (instagram) - reporting directly from Gaza.

Hind Khudary - reporting directly from Gaza. Her husband and daughter moved South to run from the tanks but she stayed behind to record the genocide. The least we can do is not let her calls fall on deaf ears.

You can participate in boycotts wherever you are in the world, through BDS guidelines. Don't be overwhelmed by gigantic boycott lists. BDS explicitly targets only a few brands which have bigger impact. Right now, they are focusing on boycotting the following:

Carrefour, HP, Puma, Sabra, Sodastream, Ahava cosmetics, McDonalds, Disney and Israeli fruits and vegetables

Push for a cultural boycott - pressure your favorite artist to speak out on Palestine and cancel any upcoming performances on occupied territory (Lorde cancelled her gig in Israel because of this. It works.)

If you can, participate in direct action or donate.

Palestine Action works to shut down Israeli weapons factories in the UK and USA, and have successfully shut down one of their firms in London.Some of the activists are going on trial and are calling for mobilizing on court.

Palestinian Youth Movement is organizing direct actions to stop the shipping of wars to Israel. Follow them.

Educate yourself. Read into Palestinian history and the occupation. You can't common sense people out of decades of propaganda. If your arguments crumble when a zionist brings up the "disengagement of Gaza", you have to learn more.

Read Decolonize Palestine. They have 15 minute reads that concisely explain the occupation (and its colonial roots) and debunk popular myths, including pinkwashing.

Read on Palestine. Here's an amazing masterpost.

Verso Book Club is giving out free books on Palestine (I personally downloaded Ten Myths about Israel by Ilan Pappe. If you still believe in the two states solution, this book by an Israeli professor debunks it).

Call your representatives. The Labour Party in the UK had an emergency meeting after several councilors threatened to resign if they didn't condemn Israeli war crimes. Calling to show your complaints works, even more if you live in a country that funds genocide.

FOR PEOPLE IN THE USA: USCPR has developed this toolkit for calls, here's a document that autosends emails to your representatives and here's a toolkit by Ceasefire in Gaza NOW!

FOR PEOPLE IN EUROPE: Here's a toolkit by Voices in Europe for Peace targeting the European Parliament and one specific for almost all countries in Europe, including Germany, Ireland, Poland, Denmark, Sweden, Netherlands, Greece, Norway, Italy, Portugal, Spain, Finland, Austria, Belgium Romania and Ukraine

FOR PEOPLE IN THE UK: Friends of Al-Aqsa UK and Palestine Solidarity UK have made toolkits for calls and emails

FOR PEOPLE IN AUSTRALIA: Here's a toolkit by Stand With Palestine

FOR PEOPLE IN CANADA: Here's a toolkit by Indepent Jewish Voices for Canada

Join a protest. Here's a constantly updating list of protests:

Global calendar

Another global calendar (go to the instragram of the organizers to confirm your protest)

USA calendar

Australia calendar

Feel free to add more.

#free palestine #save gaza #gaza under attack

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Big news! The US, and right after it, Canada, Australia and Italy, as well as the UK and Finland, have ALL frozen their financial support of UNRWA, following evidence presented to them that some of the UN agency's employees participated in the Hamas massacre.

To add to the news, this is NOT the first scandal involving this agency. UNRWA facilities have been continuously used for terrorist activity, UNRWA teachers and employees have been repeatedly called out for their support of antisemitism and terrorism, the same goes for UNRWA textbooks and schools, where antisemitism and terrorism are encouraged. It's even been asked why UNRWA still exists. Palestinians are the only ones who get their own refugee agency. Every other refugee, from every other country in the world, including ones suffering far greater humanitarian disasters, are treated by the general UN refugees agency, UNHCR. And unlike UNHCR, UNRWA does not look to solve the plight of the refugees it claims to help. If it's not enough that it's unclear why should Palestinians get their own agency, and why does it perpetuate the problem of Paletsinian refugees rather than help solve it, or why is there a separate definition for Palestinian refugees than for all other ones, Palestinian refugees also get more funding (through UNRWA) than any other refugee in the world. Just to highlight the absurdity, celeb millionaires Bella and Gigi Hadid, and their millionaire father Mohamed, are all still considered Palestinian refugees according to UNRWA's definition, despite obviously being well integrated into other countries.

Something I wanna add is about proportions within the UN and UNRWA employment. Globally, the UN says it directly employees 37,000 people. UNRWA's website says over 30,000 people work for it, and most are Palestinians, "with a small number of internation staff." That means UNRWA seems internation and impartial thanks to being counted as a UN body, but in reality, it is a Palestinian orgnization. It could never be impartial, like it wants to appear. But then it gets quoted endlessly by other UN bodies, as if UNRWA's data is impartial and reliable. It's been said more than once that many Hamas members are also employed by UNRWA, and in fact, Hamas has already voiced its displeasure over the funding to UNRAW being stopped. If Hamas is unhappy about it, when Hamas has been killing its own population, that says Hamas has its own vested interest in this organization.

Funding for UNRWA has been frozen before, but then restored. So that's not a solution. This time, the UN should be pressured to dismantle UNRWA, and move Palestinian refugees to the same definition, the same budget and the same kind of care and solution granted to all other refugees under the UNHCR.

Just a reminder that thanks to the anti-Israel demonization, Jews are not safe anywhere. In London, three people were recently attacked for simply speaking Hebrew. So here's your reminder that Hebrew is the native language of Jews, there are many Jews who try to learn and speak it, and targeting people for just speaking Hebrew is by its very nature antisemitic.

A new study shows that about half of the Israeli citizens evacuated from the north are suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. I don't know of a similar current survey regarding the Israelis evacuated from the south, but given the massacre they survived, one can only assume the situation among them is even worse.

These are Lior (right) and his 79 years old dad Chaim Perry (left).

Lior's brother was murdered during the Hamas massacre on Oct 7, and his life long peace activist father Chaim was kidnapped. Lior was asked today what he thought of the International Court of Justice's call yesterday for Hamas to return all of the Israeli hostages, immediately and without any conditions. He said he also calls for the same thing, and it's about as effective.

This is Irena Maman.

She's a resident of the northern Israeli city of Kiryat Shmona, but when most of its people were evacuated, Irena refused to. With her husband's help, she's still working as a tailor, and inviting soldiers who need their uniforms fixed to come see her, offering her work to them pro bono.

These are Aviad (left) and Gideon ("Gigi," right) Rivlin.

Four Rivlin brothers went to the Nova music festival together, Aviad, Gigi, Yochai and Yinon. When the terrorist attack started, they were giving the wounded water. At a certain point, they dispersed, with each brother running in a different direction. Aviad and Gigi did not survive. In an interview, their father said he's stopped asking himself why did he lose two sons, and started being thankful for having gotten two back. Gigi was named after his uncle Gideon, who was murdered by a terrorist from Gaza.

May their memories be a blessing.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #resources #unrwa

[wholoveseggs]

I also have another one!! I’d love to see like Rebekahs friend(the reader) and Elijah’s love story. Like how they met(maybe in the Victorian age or Viking) and just them through the eras! If that is something you would be interested in doing! Like no problems just a cute little thing about their story through the time 💕💕 as always no pressure 💕

Worth the wait

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You and Elijah are childhood friends, dipping in and out of each others lives for the past one thousand years. You hope that one day you will have a chance to be together and find the love you've always longed for.

♡♡ Thanks for the requests @ashloring & @loving-and-dreaming I got these requests back to back and I thought they were perfect combined together. Sorry it took so long, I really wanted to do this story justice... hopefully it is... ♡♡

7.1k words - Warnings: smut, angst, reminiscing, playful sex, Elijah being very silly and sappy.

You were always fated to love him from afar. From the first moment you ever laid eyes on Elijah — you knew deep down that you would love him as long as you lived. What you didn't know was how long that would be.

You grew up together in a quaint viking village, learning to hunt and forage. He pushed you around, pulled your braids and teased you. You gave back as much as you got, biting and scratching until you were both on the ground tousling around in a full blown battle to prove who was the winner.

The nature of your play fighting changed when you became teenagers, arms still grabbing, but now holding a little bit longer, hands lingering, brushing one anothers faces. Eyes meeting, always with a blush and hasty awkward parting.

When his mother caught you laying on his bed together, fully clothed with a few shy pecks here and there, she sent you away. From that point on, you barely spoke, too embarrassed and flustered to communicate.

You grew up and grew apart, watching him and his family from afar. There was always a darkness over the Mikaelson household, a lingering sense of unease that kept everyone in the village back.

Still the sight of him was enough to brighten your day. Even though you stayed far away from him and his family, Elijah often found you sitting near him, the two of you were simply drawn to each other.

Life was perfect and peaceful until one night, screams echoed in the darkness, sending you from the safety of your bed. It was coming from his home, so you quickly grabbed the only weapon you could find and ran towards the sound.

What you found was beyond anything you could imagine, death and magic combined as the family mutated into a monster to rival the ones of mythological tales.

Esther spotted you and forced you to your knees, laying beside Elijah's body as she began her spell. Once you were tied by mystical cords you didn't understand, she muttered the same incantations she had spoken over each of her children.

That was your last night as a human, the last night you were alive.

Life as an original vampire was unexpected, it came with anger, lust, bloodlust, and unmatched supernatural strength that took adjusting.

Luckily you weren't entirely alone, you had the Mikaelson siblings, teaching each other, being patient, especially Elijah. Together you mastered every nuance in becoming the strongest predator there was.

While you may have been turned against your will, you quickly accepted this new existence. The freedom that came with an endless future proved rewarding with each sunrise.

But soon the prospect of an endless future turned into a curse and you learned the only true enemy of an original was time itself.

Eternity felt hollow as you watched every friend you made grow old and die while you were forced to continue on. Leaving you, haunted and depressed with no escape in sight.

And the only group of people who understood your plight suffered from their own problems. You spent your first five hundred years with them, moving around from country to country before you needed to take a long break from them.

You hoped that Elijah would always keep his heart, stay gentle and kind, but that was impossible. He matured into someone cunning and ruthless, his humanity slowly slipping away, tainted by the brutalities of this life.

The constant bickering, hateful arguments and petty jealousy between them drove you away. After those years you decided to live independently, only visiting the Mikaelson's every couple centuries, trying your best to keep hold of your humanity, while feeling lost in the ever flowing sea of time.

You sat out front a quiet little cafe, sipping on a espresso and browsing your phone. Modern technology was still such a trip to you, just one change after another in an impossible to keep up with world. Everyday some new gadget popped up.

You remembered a time when it took weeks to travel from one place to another. For a letter to make its way took months. And now you could press a button on the piece of glass in your hand and have a face to face conversation with someone on the other side of the world.

It was fascinating, these human inventions that filled their mundane lives. You envied how enraptured they were in their invented distractions. Not everything changed, humans were still so desperate for a simple illusion to fill the boredom of the days drudgery.

But today wasn't an ordinary day for you, today you had a date. Or at least, you wanted it to be a date, Elijah probably saw it as just meeting up with an old friend.

He sat down across from you, handsome as ever, elegant and charming, just as you remembered. Dressed in a black suit, the perfect mix of old fashioned and contemporary.

But when he smiled at you, all your trepidation melted away. It was the same familiar smile you fell in love with, holding that bright twinkle in his eyes and showing off those dimples.

"It's been a while," he said with a faint smile.

"Just a little," you smirked playfully.

He always had the same mannerisms, crossing his legs and holding his body with poise. However in the centuries you spent around him, you learned all his tells. The way he always touched his face when uncomfortable, his tendency to play with his hands.

"How have you been?" he asked, leaning back in his seat as he ordered a cup of coffee.

He politely thanked the waitress that delivered it, before taking a sip, his dark eyes set intensely on yours.

"Me, oh I've been..." you let your voice trail off for a moment, swallowing the memories that threatened to steal your poise.

But Elijah knew what you were thinking, not having seen one another for so long, the memories of the last time you saw eachother tried to force their way back to the front of your mind.

It was the 1950s, and you ran into him in New York of all places. It was the first time you thought you actually had a real chance with him, but he was plagued by his missing siblings, his rage at his brother turned him into a man you barely recognized.

Watching him torture people for information, murdering innocent bystanders didn't seem out of the ordinary anymore, this new Elijah was beyond ruthless. He was a man devoted only to killing his enemies.

Today he seemed far different, poised and kind. The Elijah you fell in love with as a girl had somehow resurfaced and seemed quite eager to make your acquaintance. Or perhaps you just wanted to see him as the man you have always loved, a possibility of a future with him you always dreamed of.

"I guess we haven't really kept in touch," you murmured softly. "I've been off doing my thing and I've missed you more than words could say. Though... you obviously haven't missed me, being so busy playing king of the vampires," you teased him.

"Well someone has to keep the order," he said with a smirk.

"And you think you're the best man for the job?" you raised your brows.

His gaze met yours, he couldn't help the nostalgia that built up in him. Seeing you staring at him, reminded of the times when he first fell in love with you. He had both just turned thirteen and it was like he was seeing you for the first time, dancing around the fire with ribbons in your hair. All the times he would look at you, getting flustered, only to see you looking back at him with the same unspoken feeling between you.

"Well it's either me or Niklaus," Elijah answered as he took a drink.

"Fair enough," you laughed softly and sighed.

Elijah loved that laugh, the way it made your eyes light up. His heart melted, seeing you looking so beautiful. He never stood a chance, you could have your pick of any man, ones who would worship the ground you walked on, ones that could give you a happy life.

"I trust the family is doing well?" you asked with an even gaze.

He nodded. "I have a niece now, Hope. She's brought light back into my family," he smiled slightly.

You loved seeing him this way, happy and hopeful, exactly the way it should be.

"I can't believe it, Niklaus a father. Angels weep," you jested with a laugh.

"Well sometimes you have to set aside your misgivings and make room for surprises," he smirked.

"Spoken like a true mediator," you replied, toasting him with your mug.

You talked for what seemed like forever, catching up on lost time, simply taking in one another's presence. His gaze lingered on you, admiring your confidence. You've always had that glow, drawing everyone in with your easy nature.

"Now tell me, how was your time in Paris?" Elijah asked curiously.

"Has Elijah Mikaelson been keeping tabs on me?" You teased him and laughed.

"I've managed to keep track of a few things," he smirked.

"Nothing you didn't already know, I've spent the past few decades indulging in one thing or another," you answered honestly. "Wine, art, food, sex…”

"How do I fall into those categories?" he chuckled, cocking his head to the side.

"Hmmm, I want to say art but I don't want to feed your ego, so wine it is," you grinned.

"Not sex?" he questioned with a grin.

You shrugged and sipped on your drink, trying to conceal the hot blush spreading over your skin.

"I wouldn't know, now, would I?" you teased him.

It was meant to be a question, that's what you intended, however it came out as an admission and you winced slightly, embarrassed that your nerves were starting to take over.

Elijah loved flirting with you, it felt different than with anyone else, there was something about it, like he was doing it for the first time, all nerves and awkwardness. He saw the flush and pink in your cheeks, the same sweet little blush from a thousand years ago, he knew you felt the same way.

"Would you like to?" he asks curiously.

"Please, Elijah..." you laughed off his question.

You shuffled in your seat nervously. Not believing that Elijah had actually seen the potential for romance. He was just teasing, friendly banter between old friends.

"How's your dating life?" You asked, steering the conversation away from the uncomfortableness you were feeling.

"You're asking me out?" he smirked.

"Fuck off," you chuckled playfully. "I was only going to ask if you are still pinning after Katherine," you teased.

"Now who's keeping tabs?" He countered with a smile.

"Do you blame me? C'mon, give me all the delicious gossip."

"Well.. I finally found her. We had lots of sex, then I dumped her," he quipped.

"Oh my, Elijah, a heartbreaker," you smirked.

"Yes, that's me. Now you, I've always wondered who you were with?" Elijah brought the attention back to you, waiting for an explanation.

You rolled your eyes and relaxed into the chair. "Men, women, witches, werewolves…” you joked.

"Not sex, I meant love. Did you meet anyone that holds your heart?" He clarified, fiddling with his hands under the table, both excited and nervous to hear what you had to say.

You got a little flustered and swallowed, shrugging it off as nothing. There was no one. You certainly met some contenders over the years, but no one came close to the man that sat across from you.

"Love is exhausting," you replied casually. "Much like everything in this life, it's all the same. At the end of the day, you're left feeling empty."

He listened. He understood what you mean, eternity can feel so empty. But he felt an optimism when he was around you, no longer did he feel chained to life, to time.

"I don't agree," he murmured softly, "I think you just haven't found it yet."

"Elijah, c'mon," you laughed a bit and shook your head.

It seemed as though every date you had in the last ten centuries paled in comparison. When you were with him it just felt different, it wasn't lust, or an insatiable need to be around him. It was peace, it was comfort, he felt like home and it was special.

"No, really," he paused and smiled softly. "C'mon, lets go for a walk, I'll show you," he stood up, reaching his hand towards you.

You stood, and began walking, chatting about old times. He reminded you of the day you spent together in 1599 where you saw Shakespeare's Julius Caesar at the Globe theater, both of you sitting up in the rafters with the best view there was.

One thing led to another and the two of you ended up chasing one another all around the city, drinking far too much rum and dramatically reenacting the stabbing in a fit of giggles.

You reminded him of the time in the 1650s in Spain where you witnessed a beautiful redhead attempt to flirt with him by twirling her fan and covering half her face. It just resulted in the both of you mocking her mercilessly, a small giggle escaped your lips when you remembered his laughter.

"She was so in love with you, but could barely hold a conversation with you, what was her name? The one with all the freckles," you chuckled.

"Ugh... not Silvia. I haven't thought about her in a very long time. Fortunately she went and married some merchant banker and left me alone," he chucked, guiding you towards a nearby garden.

You walked down a tree-shaded path, crossing a bridge over a trickling creek, and past the playground where children giggled as they played. Elijah led you towards a gazebo, passing by an elderly couple enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon.

"I thought you were going to show me how to find love?" you teased, elbowing him playfully.

He chuckled and put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against him.

"Look at them over there, two people growing old together," he said softly, nodding towards the couple."That's a beautiful story right there, it goes from meeting, to dating, to falling in love, to having a marriage full of ups and downs. Every difficult time, every disagreement, every moment of compassion and reassurance is enough to have them stay together." He looked at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You listened closely, hanging on every word, studying his expression. Looking up at him as the sunlight came shining through the leafy branches of the trees.

"I bet if we asked them they would tell us the secret to it all," you said quietly, looking back over at the little old couple.

They were wrapped up in their own world, swaying ever so slightly to the soft music playing nearby. Their love for one another so bright.

Elijah stood and walked over to them, sitting down on the bench next to him. You paused for a moment and then followed him, moving to the empty spot beside him.

"Excuse me," Elijah spoke in a voice hushed and sincere. "We just wanted to know," he continued, gently compelling them to answer, "what is the secret of love?"

"Well, I guess, patience," the woman answered sweetly.

The man slowly blinked, his head cocking to the side as he answered, "trust, communication, passion..."

"What is your favorite memory together?" You asked politely, leaning forward.

They looked at one another and burst into hearty, genuine laughter.

"Doing dishes, long drives, waking up to breakfast in bed, cuddling under a blanket in the winter, or just a hug after a bad day..." she answered wistfully.

"All the quiet moments in-between, like coming home after a hard day of work and changing into our comfy clothes," he paused and grabbed her hand, "putting on a movie and just ordering in. We can lay there in one another's arms, always together in that bubble of comfort."

You smiled softly. There's something about the simplicity of it, and the sheer joy in doing those things with the one you love. The ordinary and everyday.

Elijah glanced over at you with a smile, then thanked the couple.

"Thank you, you've been wonderful," Elijah finished kindly.

"I hope you and your lady are just as happy as we are," the man said, turning to kiss his wife lovingly on the cheek.

"I'm sure of it," Elijah stood up and began walking away, holding his hand out for you.

You stood up and intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze as you mouthed a thank you towards the elderly man.

"Does that answer your question? Love just happens and it's imperfectly wonderful," Elijah said simply.

"Have you ever found a love like that?" you asked curiously.

He paused and a thoughtful expression fell over his face, wondering where to begin. He placed his hand over yours, stroking the back of your knuckles as he looked deep into your eyes, confessing a feeling he's hidden all this time.

"Only once, when I was too young to understand what I had," he admitted softly. "We were only children then."

Your heart began to beat faster, hearing him say it out loud made your breath hitch in your throat.

"And what about now?" You asked in a near whisper, afraid of what he would say, but unable to live without the answer.

He grinned and suddenly scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder, just like when you would play flight as children.

You squealed and laughed out in delight.

"What are you doing?" You giggled loudly, slapping his back, but he simply ignored you.

"Reminiscing," he answered swiftly.

"This is hardly reminiscing," you teased.

"To me it is, with you in my arms, laughing," he added cheekily.

You were incredibly flustered, but you didn't want this to stop. It was silly, and unexpected and made you think about all the times you two were together as children. It made you feel as you always did with him, free, alive, all nerves and blushing and awkward touches.

So you just rested your chin against him and giggled loudly as you watched the ground pass by underneath you.

"Where are you taking me?" you questioned softly.

He smiled and didn't answer, biting his lip as he tightened his grip on you.

It didn't take long for you to spot the bridge you walked over, carrying you out onto the sidewalk outside the gardens.

He pulled you up and set you back on your feet, both of you giggling breathlessly, your hands on his chest, his hands on your waist.

The two of you stood there for a moment, eyes scanning one another's face, catching your breaths and gazing longingly. His gaze focused on your lips, while yours focused on his eyes, the fondness in them made your cheeks heat up.

His grip tightened around you, your hands fisting in his shirt as he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

You swore you could have floated away that moment. His hands cradled your face as you pulled him closer. Your lips parting for him as he deepened the kiss.

You pulled away from the kiss after a moment. "Can we talk about that for a minute?" you said, your gaze fell away, finding it hard to meet his eyes, your heart felt like it would burst from the surges of love that came pouring out.

He shook his head and kissed you again, brushing his nose against yours, a smile across his lips.

"Lets not speak... lets keep kissing," he whispered with a soft laugh.

You smiled and closed your eyes, tilting your head back, enjoying the feel of him loving you after such a long time. The feel of his body against yours.

He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and just taking a moment to enjoy your company. The feeling of your breath against his skin.

"So... let's talk," he smirked against your lips and traced his fingers down the side of your face.

He felt you nod. "Mmm, in bed," you murmured and stole another kiss.

"Okay," he nodded and swiftly scooped you into his arms.

"Nice place," you commented lightly as your eyes scanned over the art and furniture in the compound. "I can see you were in charge of the decor," you said cheekily.

He laughed. "Naturally, darling," he replied. "Klaus is always out for blood and I had to ensure it wasn't on every wall."

Elijah led you down a hallway to a lavish bedroom, opening the door and ushering you in, shutting it carefully behind him. He held you close, his hand on your waist, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear and pulling you in for a kiss.

"Do you remember the last time we were in bed together?" He asked softly.

"You brought me into your home under false pretenses, you said you were going to show me a dagger your father had," you replied, recalling the time you were teenagers, kissing in his bed, all nerves and eagerness.

"I really did want to show you that dagger, my intentions were innocent that evening," he protested lightly. "But then you laid down on my bed, making yourself at home, and there you were, wearing such a sweet little dress with such tantalizing seams all over."

"I can't believe you remember the dress I was wearing," you said, placing your hands on his chest and toying with the buttons of his shirt.

He chuckled. "I remember everything about that day," he smiled, "it was my first kiss, how could I not memorize every detail?"

"What else do you remember?" You asked softly, looking into his eyes.

"I remember laying down beside you, I was so nervous," he admitted softly. "We laid on our backs for a while, just chatting. Your hand brushed against mine and I wrapped my fingers with yours, scared you would push me away," he looked away, lost in the memory, smiling softly.

"I was so sure that you would, but you didn't and we grew quiet, all nerves, side by side." He looked back at you, a twinkle in his eye.

"We could hear the sounds of the village outside as it prepared for the feast. We laid there like that, my heart racing, thumb tracing your palm. I turned to face you, you wore this little shy smile. And there I was, frozen by the way you looked."

"Your hair was braided and those perfect lips were slightly parted," he cupped your cheek, grazing his thumb over your bottom lip. "I was terrified to mess it all up."

You were speechless, all you could do was smile and laugh softly. He began to guide you back towards his bed, still talking as he undressed you slowly, "But we laid there just staring, and gazing into each other's eyes. Slowly I leaned closer, so close we were breathing each other in, just sharing a breath, trying not to spook one another."

"And then, before I knew it, your lips found mine and all of my nervousness melted away. Slow, soft kisses, that little braid tickling my neck and the taste of the berries you had earlier still sweet on your lips."

You blushed at the memory, his words making you tear up, you couldn't believe he remembered.

"Your hands were shaking against my chest, so I lifted them to my lips," he stopped talking for a moment, reenacting the memory by kissing your hands once more.

"Then your mother walked in," you commented, smiling at his gesture.

He smirked against your skin. "Well, before she did," he began, he spoke softly as he slowly unzipped the back of your dress, letting it fall to your feet. "I was... learning the taste of your lips," he continued slowly. "They still taste the same, lovely and sweet,"

His eyes scanned over you, taking in the sight of the most beautiful woman in the world, right there in his room, standing there in nothing but a lacy black bra and underwear.

You smiled and tugged on the buttons of his shirt, eagerly undoing them and pushing his shirt off of his shoulders as you began kissing along his jaw.

"It feels like yesterday," you whispered, moaning against his lips as his hands went to your waist, his fingertips dancing over your skin.

The sensation tickled and made you giggle, trying to pull his hands away but that just sent a whole new wave of laughter bubbling out of you as he pulled you against him with a grin.

The two of you stumbled backwards to the edge of the bed, kissing deeply and continuing to undress each other as you fell onto the mattress in a fit of laughter.

He pinned you down, but you pushed him off, the two of you beginning to wrestle for the upper hand. You giggled and squealed as he tickled you mercilessly, kissing along your neck and biting playfully, all while his fingers danced and caressed over your stomach.

"Elijah, STOP! Hahaha," you pleaded, squirming beneath him. "Stop stop," you laughed.

"What's wrong, my little love," he asked playfully, grabbing your wrists in his hand and pinning them above your head.

You kissed him quickly, grinning when he released you, "Let me breathe!" you said with a laugh.

He smiled warmly, glancing down at your smiling lips. "You make me feel like a teenager again," he admitted softly, then began tickling your sides again, catching you off guard.

You squealed, squirming in his grip and playfully struggling to break free. You could feel his erection brushing against you, his hips pressing between your thighs as he continued to attack you.

"Eli!” You gasped, wriggling your body under him, wrapping your legs around his waist and flipping him over onto his back.

He was laughing along with you, his breathing heavy as he settled beneath you, grinning up at you. “I surrender, you have bested me,” he said, looking up at you in awe.

You smiled and sat back on his lap, "oh don't give me that cheeky grin," you replied, wrinkling your nose at him.

His hands fell to your thighs, squeezing them as he smiled. You rocked your hips slowly, grinding yourself on his cock. He moaned softly, his mouth hung open as he watched the way you moved above him. Your lace panties rubbing over the rough material of his pants.

"I've dreamed of this for centuries," he confessed in a whisper. "You on my lap, your hands on me, the beauty of your body..."

Your eyes glanced down as he spoke, admiring his abs and the V-shaped muscles running down below his waistband. You made eye contact and started to slowly unhook your bra, letting it fall to the ground before tossing it to the floor.

He groaned softly, admiring the softness of your breasts and the perk of your nipples. You caught him staring and smiled, taking his hands into yours and placing them on you, urging him to touch you.

He sat up, capturing a nipple between his lips, leaving a trail of kisses along your breasts, cupping and massaging them in his hands. He kissed up your chest to your neck and found your lips again, kissing you slowly and passionately. He broke the kiss, glancing into your eyes with a look of raw, aching love.

"You know what would have happened if my mother didn't walk in?" He murmured, keeping his voice low and hushed, nearly a whisper.

You simply shook your head.

"I would've put my head between these thighs," he continued, squeezing them in his strong hands. "I would've made you giggle and squirm until you surrendered to my lips," he grabbed your hips and rocked you along his length, making your breath hitch in your throat.

"You would've gotten me pregnant," you chuckled, thinking back to how naive and innocent the two of you were, no idea of the consequences of what you had been attempting.

He smiled and grabbed your face gently, "then I would have made you my wife," he grinned and leaned forward, whispering against your lips, "and we would have grown old together, watching our little ones run through the village... a full happy life," he kissed you again.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I always dreamed of waking up to your beautiful face every morning," he said softly. “Perhaps if time and circumstances treated us kindly…”

You felt a little sad at his words, imagining the perfect little life you could have had together. "I would have liked that," you said slowly, gazing into his kind eyes.

You held a gaze with him for a moment before kissing him again, reaching down to his pants, unbuttoning them with slow, careful movements. He watched as you tugged them down and off of his legs and then lowered down to kiss him again, rubbing your core against his length.

He pulled your panties to the side, tracing his fingers over your clit, rubbing it with slow and loving circles.

You broke the kiss, your forehead pressed against his, your eyes shut tightly as he pleasured you, massaging your clit with expertise. "‘lijah...," you let out a little moan. "Where did you learn that?"

He grinned, biting his lip as he watched the pleasure on your face. "I've been practicing with all these other women, waiting to have a chance with you." He replied.

You opened your eyes, an expression of faux hurt painted across your face. "Are you trying to say I was your last resort?"

He grabbed the back of your neck with a playful smirk, "you are my only choice, my love," he guided you back to his lips and kissed you deeply, his free hand cupping your ass, tugging you against him.

"Only choice," you repeated between kisses, grinding on his fingers as he pleased you.

"I love you, it was only ever you," he declared, his eyes scanning your face with intensity.

You smiled and stole another kiss from him. "Then, prove it," you whispered against his lips.

He grinned and pulled his hand away, suddenly ticking your sides again and making you laugh and whimper out playfully as he flipped you over onto your back.

You were laughing uncontrollably, grinning as you kissed him back while he tickled you. You gasped for air and submitted beneath him as he kissed and nipped his way down your body.

Finally, he made his way to your core, hooking a finger under the lace and pulling your panties down. He tossed them to the floor and dove in, draping your thighs over his shoulders, burying his mouth into you.

You gasped, laughing as you fell back onto the mattress, rocking your hips against him. He grinned up at you as he swiped his tongue over your clit.

"Allll these women, practice, and nothing to show for it," you sighed as you teased him, breathy and laced with laughter.

He looked up, a flash of competitiveness crossing his face as he eased two fingers inside you and nipped at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your teasing was replaced with mewls and moans as you ran your fingers through his hair and rode his tongue, soft curses and whispered pleas were all you managed to get out.

He closed his eyes and took his time, one hand around your thigh, stroking circles over your skin, while his tongue and fingers worked in union. He couldn't believe he had you, right here, and he intended to make you feel every bit of love he had to offer.

He smirked against your heat as you tightened your grip on his hair, pulling him closer, grinding your hips against his mouth. He has dreamed of this moment for one thousand years, but the real thing was so much better than he had ever imagined.

You trembled and squeezed your legs around him, moaning and gasping as you were pulled closer to your climax. He urged you on as you fucked his mouth, whimpering softly, your free hand bunched up the bed sheets.

The stimulation was too much as he hummed and sucked your clit, your body shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Your thighs gripped his head like a vice and your body stiffened as you cried out his name, digging your heels into the bed to try and ride it out on his mouth.

You tugged his head away, panting and trying to regain control of your body, your head still spinning.

You gasped and laughed, covering your face.

He smirked, as he wiped his mouth on your thigh.

You smiled down at him, "okay…maybe one thousand years was enough time to gain some skill," you chuckled, pulling him close for a kiss.

His hands trailed over your breasts, slowly kneading them and rolling your nipples between his fingers. You mewled softly against his lips, your nails digging into his shoulders.

He kissed your forehead, your nose and along your jaw, sucking a hickey into the side of your neck, watching it instantly heal. He could do this forever, tasting your skin and listening to the perfect little sounds you made.

You pushed gently on his chest, urging him to lay down, which he did happily, holding your hand as he laid on his back.

You peppered kisses down his neck to his chest, biting at his firm chest muscles and kissing down his toned abs, making your way to his erection.

"I've learned some skills as well," you teased, pressing kisses up the side of his length, placing a final kiss to the tip.

He groaned softly, smiling down at you, "oh really? I'd love to see that," he whispered encouragingly.

You opened your mouth slowly and lowered down, taking him all the way into your mouth. He moaned softly, tilting his head back and biting his lip as his fingers tangled in your hair.

You swirled your tongue around him, using the tips of your fingers to stroke the base, glancing up to watch the way his body reacted to your movements.

His lips were parted, his eyes shut. As his breathing grew ragged he smiled softly, letting his head fall back against the pillows as you pleasured him.

You hummed, bobbing up and down along his shaft, savoring the sweet sounds that left his throat.

He began to tug on your hair, taking handfuls as you quickened the pace, licking and sucking enthusiastically, slurping as you sucked on the tip.

You released his cock with a pop, stroking and pumping him in your hand, using your spit to keep it slick. You traced your thumb over the head, tapping him against your tongue.

He moaned softly, gripping the headboard with his free hand, slowly bucking his hips.

You took him in again, one final time, swirling your tongue, bobbing and sucking, pushing him all the way down your throat.

He let out a long, sexy groan as he reached his peak. "Yes, darling, yes... just like that...I'm-" he grunted, before spilling over your tongue with a deep, guttural moan.

You swallowed, licking and sucking him, milking him completely before pulling off. He stared down at you, his face was clenched and contorted, an expression of pure pleasure painted across his features. Then he sat up slowly pulling you against him in a messy kiss.

"How was that?" You asked softly against his lips.

He grinned against your mouth and kissed you again, cradling your face. "I don't think there are words that could describe...," he took a moment to catch his breath before continuing, his eyes lidded, still high on his climax. "How much I love you," he whispered against your lips.

"I bet you say that to every girl that has given you good head," you teased.

He furrowed his brow, watching your little grin. "Do you think I use that word lightly?... I love you, only you...," he pressed his forehead to yours and closed his eyes.

You ran your fingers through his hair, studying his features as you smiled.

"I love you too, Elijah," you whispered, pressing a slow, caring kiss to his lips.

You found yourself suddenly overwhelmed with love, with the memory of all the lost time you had missed with him. Tears formed in your eyes as you kissed him, causing him to break the kiss.

He studied your expression with worry. "What's the matter?" He asked softly.

"I don't want to miss another day," you replied, brushing away your tears, a goofy smile across your face.

He smiled at you with a chuckle. "Well, darling, we just have one thousand years of catching up to do," he said softly, wiping away your tears. "Not to mention all the other days to come after,"

You let out a little laugh as he pulled you into his arms, his strong hands roaming over your curves as he flipped you back underneath him.

"I can't wait," you said breathlessly, pulling him down for a passionate kiss.

Elijah smiled against your lips and kept one hand at your waist as he dragged the tip of his cock over your pussy, drenched from the pleasure and anticipation. He eased in slowly, sinking inside your warm center and muffling a groan against your neck. You let out a soft sigh, feeling so complete now that you were finally connected.

He lifted his head and gazed into your eyes, placing a hand against your cheek as he started to thrust slowly. He was quiet as he rolled his hips, his gaze flickering between watching his cock slowly sliding in and out of you, covered in your wetness, and you, biting your lip, your eyes squeezed shut as he filled you.

You moaned at his size, already sensitive from your last orgasm, the stretch felt amazing, your nails digging into his firm muscles. His large hands were clutched around your hips, steadying you as he fucked you in a slow, gentle pace.

"Listen to you," he grinned, "making such beautiful sounds for me," he praised, nipping at your ear.

His words went straight to your core as your breathing grew raspy, squeezing his cock so tightly that you pushed him out of you, moaning quietly.

"Mmm," he bit his lip, tapping his cock against your clit and then ran it back and forth over your wetness, admiring the view before guiding his cock back into you. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked softly, dropping a kiss to your forehead.

You shook your head, your eyes still shut. "No, you are just...very well-endowed, that's all," you giggled..

He rocked inside you for a moment, his hands gripping your hips. "Should I stop?" He whispered.

"Don't you dare stop, you owe me one thousand years of this," you cupped his cheek, pulling his face to yours, pressing your lips together.

"Who am I to deny you?" He kissed you slowly, his tongue danced with yours as he found his rhythm again, thrusting deep, his hands holding your thighs open.

He bit your lip and gazed at you, still not totally believing the vision of beauty beneath him.

The pure sexual lust that had built up between you paired with the overflowing love you felt for each other, made everything more intense. Your orgasms building, the clench around his length, the grip of your hands on his muscles. It felt like time had stopped for you both, existing only in the carnal moment you were sharing.

He moaned as you tightened around him, pushing your knees up to your waist to deepen his thrust. He trailed one hand down your soft skin and ran a thumb over your swollen clit, rubbing it in slow, tender circles.

You gasped and whimpered out his name, you were so sensitive and yet were so close to tumbling over again, "please, don't stop," you whispered urgently, a pleading look in your eyes.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and continued rubbing your clit, rolling his hips, giving you long, passionate strokes.

"That's it, that's it," he whispered through grunts. "Just like that, my darling," he breathed, lowering down to kiss you.

The love you made was passionate and sweet, soft and timid. It felt like it was all meant to be, pure, passionate love, made only for each other.

He used all his willpower to hold back his own, wanting to feel you release around him. Your body slowly stiffened, squeezing around his length, making him moan deeply. He didn't stop moving, encouraging you with gentle words in your ear and kisses to your cheek.

He couldn't hold on any longer, feeling you twitch, your mouth hung open in a silent moan as you reached your peak. A quiet, guttural groan rumbled deep in his chest as he spilled his warm cum inside you.

He pressed his forehead to yours as he breathed heavily, whispering sweet praises and confessions as you both held one another, sharing small and gentle kisses.

He rolled on to his side, bringing you with him, keeping you connected and moving your thigh over his hip to bury himself deeper. Neither of you wanted to let go of the feeling of being joined.

He snaked one arm behind your back to draw you even closer, and reached the other up to brush your hair out of your face. He kissed you deeply and ran his fingertips over your soft skin, moving them up and down your back as you looked into one another's eyes.

"That was..." you sighed happily.

"Yeah..." He smiled softly and let his eyes wander over your features, as if trying to sear it into his brain.

"I can't believe we waited so long to do this," you whispered, stroking your hands up and down his arms.

"Our days of waiting are over," he smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you again. His mouth on yours, swallowing your little moans, his fingers stroking your sides, both of you completely consumed by the other.

The room was dimly lit, candle flames casting a warm glow around you. Time finally gave you a break, let you have this moment you both were longing for all these years.

He loved you. You loved him, and now you were finally together. After one thousand years, it was well worth the wait.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana ♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

[autistichalsin]

Broke: Halsin talking about nature all the time is boring

Woke: Halsin's love of nature is a way of showing what a deeply loving person he is; while most others become hardened by their traumas, Halsin still has a big enough heart to love trees and every animal he meets. This reflects how he specifically says he swore off cynicism at the age of 200: he could numb a great deal of his pain if he gave up his optimism, his determination to fix the world's pain, and his love of the small and voiceless beings contained in nature, but he actively refuses, knowing that feeling that pain, that empathy, is who he is- and it proves crucial to him earning his happy ending. This is shown in the Shadow Curse plotline, where all others wrote it off as a lost cause (numb to the cruelty and suffering) while Halsin carried that pain for 100 years as he tried to fix it, and ultimately is rewarded with seeing the curse lifted and his friends Thaniel and Oliver healed. It is also shown in the ending, where his refusal to stop worrying about the plight of the downtrodden of Baldur's Gate despite never being taken seriously leads to him being rewarded with a community, built by his hands literally and metaphorically, that gives him the sense of belonging that always eluded him as well as the children his nurturing soul always sought to have but never was allowed due to his strict sense of duty while he acted as Archdruid. Halsin's love of nature, of life itself, underscores his extraordinary compassion in a world that does not always encourage kindness, and in the end his ability to stay kind is the very reason he is so much happier in the ending than he ever was in the previous 349 years of his life

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[thepastisalreadywritten]

By Brian Melley, AP News

13 January 2024

LONDON (AP) — An unlikely refugee from the war in Ukraine — a rare Asiatic black bear — arrived at his new home in Scotland on Friday and quickly took to a meal of cucumbers and watermelon.

The 12-year-old Yampil was named for a village in the Donetsk region where he was one of the few survivors found by Ukrainian troops in the remains of a bombed-out private zoo.

Yampil, who had previously been called Borya, was discovered by soldiers who recaptured the devastated city of Lyman during the Kharkiv counteroffensive in the fall of 2022, said Yegor Yakovlev of Save Wild, who was among the first of many people who led the bear to a new life.

The bear was found in a menagerie that had long been abandoned by its owners.

Almost all the other animals had died of hunger, thirst or were struck by bullets or shrapnel and some were eaten by Russian troops.

Yampil narrowly missed the same fate, suffering a concussion from a projectile that landed nearby.

“The bear miraculously survived,” said Yakovlev, also director of the White Rock Bear Shelter, where the bear recovered.

“Our fighters did not know what to do with him, so they started looking for rescue.”

What followed was an odyssey that your average bear rarely makes, as he was moved to Kyiv for veterinary care and rehab, then shipped to a zoo in Poland, then to an animal rescue in Belgium, where he spent the past seven months, before landing in the United Kingdom.

Brian Curran, owner of Five Sisters Zoo in West Calder, Scotland, said his heart broke when he learned of the plight of the threatened Asiatic black bear.

“He was in terrible condition; five more days and they wouldn’t have been able to save him,” Curran said. “We were just so amazed he was still alive and well.”

The bear was skinny but not malnourished when he was found, said Frederik Thoelen, a biologist at the Nature Help Center in Belgium.

He now is estimated to weigh a healthy 440 pounds (200 kilograms), Thoelen said.

The nature center in Belgium, which usually treats injured wildlife and returns them to their natural settings, has taken several animals rescued from the war in Ukraine, including a wolf, a caracal cat and four lions, though those animals had not experienced the ordeal Yampil endured.

It was remarkable how calm Yampil was when he arrived in Belgium, Thoelen said.

The bear was trained in the past two weeks to move from his enclosure to the crate that would transport him across Belgium to Calais, France, then across the English Channel on a ferry to Scotland.

Pastries from a local bakery were used for good measure to lure him Thursday into the cage, where he was sedated for the journey.

“We want to use the food that he likes most, and for most bears — and for people also — it’s sweet, unhealthy foods,” Thoelen said.

Thoelen had a sense of the bear’s weight as he drove the crate to the port.

“Every time when we had a red light or a traffic jam, when the bear moved a little bit, you could feel the van moving also,” he said.

“You could feel it was a heavy animal in the back of the car.”

Yampil arrived at the zoo about 15 miles (25 kilometers) west of Edinburgh and immediately made himself at home.

He feasted on cukes — said to be his favorite food — and melon, said Adam Welsh, who works at Five Sisters.

The Asiatic black bear is listed on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species as vulnerable to extinction in the wild, where it can be found in central and southern Asia, Russia, and Japan.

It’s known for the distinctive white crescent patch on its chest that gives it the nickname moon bear. It can live for up to 30 years in zoos.

It’s not clear if the bear will go into hibernation. The winter has been warmer than usual but colder days are on the horizon.

The zoo has other bears, but Yampil is the only Asian bear and unique in other ways.

“We’ve had circus bears, for example, that have been rescued,” Welsh said.

“We’ve had bears rescued from places like roadside restaurants where they’ve been used as kind of roadside attractions and been kept in subpar conditions. But this is the first time that we’ve worked with an animal that’s been rescued from a war zone.”

Scottish zoo welcomes black bear which survived war in Ukraine

13 January 2024

🖤🐻🤎

#Asiatic black bear #Ukraine #Scotland #Yampil #Borya #Save Wild #White Rock Bear Shelter #Five Sisters Zoo #Nature Help Center #Belgium #Poland #International Union for Conservation of Nature’s Red List of Threatened Species #moon bear #save animals #protect wildlife #threatened species #refugee bear #private zoo #Youtube

[jeffrey-anderson]

Injustice in the Justice System: The Ethical Plight of Arkham Asylum

It is a common saying within Gotham City that you can set your watch off of Arkham Asylum’s regular breakouts.

Founded by Dr. Amadeus Arkham well over a century ago, this government-funded penitentiary has morphed from a well-meaning mental hospital to quite literally a house of horrors. Sanctioned as an asylum for the criminally insane in 19XX, Arkham Asylum has been affected by corruption and fraud every year since its founding - a reality only exacerbated by the breakout rates that have spiked by almost 46% annually since the Joker’s posting as a publicly known terrorist.

Anybody who lives in Gotham has been affected by the persistent breakouts plaguing the asylum. It’s been the Riddler’s bombings of the subway system. It was the threat of Gotham’s water supply being polluted by Joker toxin (only narrowly avoided by vigilante Batman’s interceptions). It was literally any Halloween these past few years. Take your pick.

Arkham Asylum is wholly an ethical nightmare. Its moral values and code of conduct have completely warped since its founding, and a lack of accountability has transformed it into an unethical hovel for anybody incarcerated there. Corruption runs rampant in the system. Any bribe of any size can be weaponised, and prisoners can do anything within and including escaping.

The poor legislation and the lack of accountability likens Arkham to the El Salvador gang jails. Both of them have death rates in the hundreds, and both do not receive programs preparing inmates for reinsertion into society. The two of them have inmates who are rarely - if ever - allowed outside.

These so called ‘reformatory’ institutions are unethical, unlivable hovels for anybody incarcerated. The abusive living situations make it a wonder any of Arkham’s convicts ever even consider choosing to stay within the prison walls.

Speaking of Arkham being an unliveable hovel - asylums throughout America have progressively gone out of style within the last forty years. However, Gotham is a city that leans more towards traditionalism - a view paired with and reflected throughout the city’s beautiful architecture and the scarcity of new bills, legislations and laws that are passed as a result of the city stagnating and being unwilling to create change.

This languishing, this lack of desire for movement and progress, is part of the systematic problems that threaten to topple Arkham. It is part of why it is inhumane.

Asylums have been going out of style for a reason - both sides of the system suffer. There is a relatively low rate of recovery from patients in asylums who are mentally unwell - even lower in Gotham City. Caregivers are pessimistic about their future outlooks because of the low success rates, feeding back into the cycle with no positive yield. This vicious pattern makes it nigh-impossible for anyone within the system to get any sort of fulfilment from it.

Although Arkham is officially a psychiatric ward, it houses patients who are arguably sane and yet are sentenced to life with the mentally unwell. Take Adam Bomb for example (article linked). Convicted of terrorism after trying to blow up the city, Bomb worked with criminally insane terrorist Firefly and thus was convicted of insanity beside him despite all claims that he was not mentally unstable.

It could be argued that these inhabitants aren’t perfectly sane, but an overwhelming amount of evidence from court records show otherwise. XX% of convicts in Arkham were allegedly intended to go to Blackgate Penitentiary, but couldn’t as a result of the overcrowding in the system. This whopping XX% percent of inmates, forced to live in padded cells and treated as less than human because of an insanity that they don’t have, live in an oppressive scheme which in turn makes it more difficult for actually unwell prisoners to receive the help they require. Furthermore, inmates who are criminally insane likewise suffer - the heightened risk of assault, dangerous gangs, and trauma in result of the organised crime fester a wholly unhealthy environment for the patients in the system who are meant to be there.

This misconduct is really highlighted in 20XX’s horrifically dubbed “Haunted House” breakout, where seven inmates (both sane and insane) attempted an escape. One of their psychiatric patients (a Ms. A. Smith) was killed in the panic after experiencing a psychotic break and subsequently attacking one of her fellow escapees after watching one of the sane male inmates assault a staff member.

The tragic events that transpired in the “Haunted House” jailbreak underline the desperation of reform required within our justice system. It is crucial that we address these issues within and around Arkham, as its current state has crossed lines and boundaries that even the worst cities throughout the globe have not passed.

Now, after considering these insurmountable problems, you may be wondering.

How is Arkham Asylum still standing?

Surely, some uncorrupted Gotham official is good, right? They would have seen the corruption, the abuse, the inhumane condition. Surely, somebody would have pushed for a change.

Well - you aren’t wrong. Arkham has been the focus of almost 15% of bills petitioned within Gotham City for eight years.

But there are good reasons why it is still functioning. Why nine out of ten of these petitions are rejected, despite the obvious poison to our society that it provides.

Arkham Asylum was made by a key founder of some of Gotham’s most foundational rules and regulations, Stuart Gordon. Nevada and Maine are the only other states to decriminalise sex work - but Gotham City, too, has special permissions under the state of New Jersey to abolish the law as a result of his work. Furthermore, Gordon pushed for Gotham to be one of the first cities (although highly debated and largely criticised at the time) to allow equal purchase and selling of property by minority groups within Gotham. Gordon’s lasting contributions to New Jersey’s sociopolitical landscape are likely partially why Arkham‘s presence continues to endure despite its increasingly intrusive existence in our modern society.

Arkham Asylum stands as a symbol of justice. Despite the rampant violence and a severe lack of accountability within its system, it is the most famous (and infamous) jail this side of America. When you look any closer at the system, its flaws and corruption reveal themselves to you in a disturbingly clear fashion. Yet when we think of the law, when we consider the justice system, Arkham is always the first to mind, given its wide discussion by people around the globe.

Arkham Asylum was a lot of money. A lot of money. For the first fifteen years of its construction, Gotham government’s annual transparency records reveal Arkham Asylum taking almost 40% of the budget allocated to police and law enforcement in its construction time. This rampant fund theft and poor budget of the government, exacerbated by the relative spike in crime rate during the years of its building, proves just how long they intend Arkham to stand. Why would the government put so much money into something that they didn’t intend to run in the long term?

These factors have made our authorities comfortable. Unaccountable. Stagnant. The level of ease that Gotham’s government holds about jailbreaks trickles down to regular citizens. They face no consequences from us as a result of our being excessively comfortable with the crime they permit.

If nothing is to change, we have a clear view on the future based on the long history we have with Arkham in the past. Gotham City’s complacency allows corruption to fester, and it leaves us citizens complicit in the tragedy of crime and disaster.

It is not too late to change course.

If we don’t stop this fraudulence now, it will be too late to change course.

The first step to change within others - our society - is change within ourselves and our standards. We must remind ourselves that this crime is not normal. Remind ourselves that we should not be comfortable. The disasters, the rampant crime and the rotating door of terrorists coming and going from Arkham is not something to be nonchalant about. We have to teach our children that the standards that Gotham’s bureaucracy sets for us isn’t acceptable, and that they should not be growing up with fear in their hearts and emergency exits in their minds.

Furthermore, it is imperative that we insist on more from our higher-ups. Allowing them to continue shrugging their shoulders and telling us that the establishment cannot be changed is only going to worsen the state of our city and justice system to the point of no return. We need to pressure new laws from them, so we can uproot the corruption that they have allowed to fester in our city for decades. We must demand new regimens for jails in order for us to be able to transfer inmates out of overstuffed systems and give resources to those who need it most.

Most importantly, we have to demand better, moral legislation. Regulations that seperate the harmless from the terrorists, and incite prisoners to remain in a prison that will not be cruel to them at every waking moment.

One voice can only do so much.

Many voices, speaking as a part of an undivided unit desiring wholly for change - that will get the government’s attention. That will make them feel the same discomfort we have been experiencing our whole lives. That will lead them to forging new change within this stagnant society, one which will better both the lives of AA’’s inhabitants and those of Gotham City.

Sign this petition, and stand with me. Stand with all of us who are appealing for a difference within a society. Help us create change that will last for generations.

-Jeffrey Anderson

#gotham #dc #batman #only in gotham #bruce wayne #joker #the joker #dc joker #dc comics #metropolis #jla #dc comcis #dcu #robin #dc robin #dc universe #jim gordon #ed ny #ed nygma #the riddler #fanf #fanfic #dc fanart #gotham city #red hoo #red hood #dc red hood #dc red robin #jason todd #dick grayson

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being Oikawa's Little Sister and Iwa's crush

😡 Oikawa Is Mean To You 😡

Oikawa 'the jerk' Toru featuring Seijoh x fem! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Oikawa being mean

AN: This is an Anon request

You want to punch him Yn?

I have no problems fighting men 😒

Seriously tho, I think you've suffered enough being the baby sister of the infamous Toru Oikawa 🙌🏻

Did you guys hear that? The gates of heaven opening, the birds singing and the sun shining 🥰

Yeah me neither 🙃

Oh well, back to your life plight

Being the sister of Toru had its pros and cons

The cons vastly outweighing the pros but nevertheless

It's not like you could help who you are biologically related to YN so you just have to deal

You played many different rolls as Oikawa's sister including (but not limited to) bodyguard, warden, comforter, and PR Manager

Seriously the amount of times you had to tell his fan girls he already left for the day just so he could escape the bathroom alive 🙄

YN's out here doing God's work

The one good thing is that your work never went unnoticed 🥰

Well by Toru it did but we aren't talking about him rn

Because Iwaizumi Hajime, 18, Wing-spiker/Seijoh Ace has our FULL attention 😏

This sweet angel istg-

He is so smitten with you YN and yet you haven't noticed

Or maybe it's because you never through you'd grab the attention of THE Iwaizumi

Probably too busy running errands for Oikawa 😒

Anyways, Iwa has had a crush on you for literal years

Like since him and Oiks became besties!

You use to follow them, trying to play volleyball

Iwa would often ignore you, too worried he'd mess up and say something stupid ☹️

But Oikawa (always saying something stupid) told you to just bug off

The amount of times you told your mom and Toru got in trouble 🤣

If that didn't solidify Iwa's feelings for you, I don't know what did

Of course, Oikawa knew of Iwa's crush on you 🙄

Mans used it at every turn to save his ass

"Ah ah Iwa-chan, would YN-chan want you to cause her brother more grief?"- Oikawa would say just as Iwa was about to pelt him with a volleyball

Makki, Mattsun, Kunimi, Yahaba, Kyotani, Watari and Kindaichi 👉🏻 I'm sure YN will forgive Iwa 😐

Oikawa 👉🏻😱 THE SLANDER

Iwaizumi 👉🏻 🧑🏻💥 🏐

Everything was going right in the world, until it wasn't 🙃

Because that's what we do here

It was a particularly rough day, Seijoh had just lost to Shiratorizawa 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 👏🏻 and everyone was in a mood

Especially Oikawa

Please when Oikawa is in a mood, stay clear 😒

Unfortunately you are too much of a sweet angel to do this

Thinking you can cheer the boys up during the practice is what we do 🥰

You arrived in the gym, seeing the boys setting up

Makki and Mattsun greet you in their normal way, probably with head pats 😍

Kyotani waves at you and you wave back

Kunimi and you text constantly so no need for a physical exchange of words YN ✋🏻

You see Iwaizumi and smile at him, watching him blush and return a goofy smile in return 🥺

Please he's got it SO bad for our bby YN

Then you lay eyes on the demonic creature that is your brother

He's practically boiling with rage at this point, probably muttering about how much he hates Ushijima

"If you would have just come to Shiratorizawa... blah blah blah" he says repeatedly

"Hey bro, what's up-" you say coming up next to him

Toru looks at you then looks away, completely ignoring you

RUDE

But we will forgive him, so you try again...

"Toru, hey I came to help you guys today. What would you like me to do?" You said, perky and happy, trying to change the mood from glum to fun

Toru ignores you yet again, as you figure out your next course of action

At this point all of Seijoh is watching, waiting to see what's gonna happen

"Come on Toru-" "YN WILL UOU PLEASE JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!"

You snap back at your brother's shouting, eyes widening

"CANT YOU SEE NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO BE PARADING AROUND THE GYM YN! CANT YOU GET THAT THROUGH YOUR TINY HEAD OR IS YOUR BRAIN TO STUPOD TO COMPREHEND THAT WE DONT WANT YOU HERE!"- Toru yells, heaving as you back away

"ENOUGH"- Iwaizumi shouts, running towards you and Toru

Your eyes burn with tears as you back up, trying not to let the damn break

"YN hey-" Makki says as him and Mattsun approach

You and Toru look at each other, tears now spilling down your eyes

The realization of his words hit him

"YN, I'm sorry- I-"

"TORU OIKAWA, FUCK YOU"- you scream as you turn, running out of the gym

Kyotani gets up, running after you with Yahaba and Watari

Toru watches as the rest of the gym falls silent

Iwaizumi is PISSED

Like seriously PISSED

Like it's death con level P I S S E D

He's balling his fists up, steam coming off of him

It's so bad that Makki and Mattsun back up

"Kunimi, Kindaichi you guys should probably leave-" Mattsun says as Kunimi and Kindaichi run 🏃‍♂️ towards the gym doors

"Iwa, I know I fucked up ok, I- I'll go and apologize right now"- Toru says as Iwaizumi reaches for a ball, gripping it hard

"Oikawa you better pray Kyotani can talk her down or I swear to GOD you won't be leaving this gym ALIVE"- Iwaizumi growls

Outside of the gym, you sink to the floor, crying as the words run through your head

You and Toru had fought may times but never had it hurt this bad

He had said many mean things to you in the past but saying those things and in front of the whole team, how embarrassing 🥺

You felt someone slide down besides you as you looked to see Kyotani and Yahaba along with Watari surrounding you

"I'm not going to forgive him" you said, wiping your tears

"Nah we don't expect you too"- Yahaba said

"We were just checking on you kid"- Kyotani said as you smile a little, you're friends making your situation a little lighter

"Besides Iwaizumi has probably already murdered him and Makki and Mattsun are trying to hide the body" Watari added, making you belt out a laugh 🤣

"Come back with us, don't let him get to you" Kyotani says as you nod and stand up

You walk back into the gym and see Kunimi and Kindaichi waiting outside the doors, peeking in 👀

"What's wrong?" You said, coming to see

"Iwaizumi is so pissed off YN, seriously I've never seen him so mad"- Kindaichi said

"Yeah, pretty sure Makki and Mattsun are afraid to move because it might set him off"- Kunimi

Inside you see Oikawa on his knees, Iwaizumi standing with a volleyball at the ready, anger radiating off him

"Please Iwa-chan, I didn't mean to hurt YN! Please I know you like them and I really messed up!"- Oikawa pleaded

You stopped, walking into the gym at hearing that Iwaizumi liked you

"Oikawa!! I should kill you for hurting them! You knew how I felt and seeing them cry" Iwaizumi said, his face heating more

You walked up behind Iwaizumi and stopped

"Y-You like me Hajime?" You say, eyes wide and a smile sneaking on your face

"I-uh I- uh" Iwaizumi says, tone instantly shifting from rage to nerves

"Haji" you say, coming closer to him

"YN I LIKE YOU SO MUCH! IVE LIKED YOU SINCE WE WERE KIDS. THE FIRST TIME I EVER SAY UOU I THOUGHT YOU WERE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING EVER"- Iwaizumi said, word vomiting his confession

You stare back at him, smiling before you lean in and kiss his lips lightly

Iwaizumi looks at you and pulls you into a hug, swinging you around the gym

"I like you to Haji" you say before he kisses you again

The team watches in silent, all gushing at how happy you two are 🥺

Until Oikawa ruins it 😐

"This has all gone according to plan" Oikawa said, standing up and dusting himself off

Everyone just looks at him, confused 🤨

"Shut up Oikawa you didn't plan any of this"- Makki says

"Yeah you are just lucky it worked out"- Mattsun added

Iwaizumi is now growling at Toru who jumps back and screams a little 😅

You approach your brother glaring as he lowers his head in shame

"I'm sorry Yn, will you please forgive me" he says

You look at him, then to Hajime who nodds at you

"I'll forgive you on one condition" you say

"Anything yn"

"I get to hit you with a volleyball"- you say, smirking

Oikawa looks up and smiles

"Yeha ok, I'll take that" he says, probably thinking you can't throw with shit

But it's a good thing you've been studying the Iwaizumi Hajime technique all these years yn 🙃

The ball pelts Oikawa right in the back of the head, sending him flying forward as he starts to whine

"YN CHANNNNN" he cries as everyone laughs

"Nice arm sweetheart" Iwaizumi says, skipping your cheek as you smile back at him 🥰

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyu! #haikyū!! #haikyu x female reader #seijoh headcanons #aoba johsai headcanons #aoba johsai x manager #seijoh x manager #seijoh x female reader #seijoh x female manager #aoba johsai x reader #aoba josahi x female manager #oikawa toru #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #kunimi akira #watari shinji #kindaichi yūtarō #yahaba shigeru #kyotani kentaro #seijoh oikawa #seijoh x reader #seijoh #aoba josahi x reader #aoba joshai #iwaizumi x female reader #iwaizumi x oikawa yn #haikyuu iwaizumi

[elysiangroundsforall]

Love & War

"Everything is fair in love and war"

Prologue

The clash of steel echoed through the battlefield as General Park Seonghwa's sword found its mark, piercing the body of the opposing general. With a final gasp, the foe met his demise, signaling the end of the day's brutal warfare. As the victorious army retreated to their base, reveling in their hard-won triumph, one figure remained stoic amidst the jubilation. While chants of "General! General! General!" filled the air, Seonghwa, untouched by the fervor, retreated to his tent, shedding his armor before succumbing to the embrace of slumber.

As dawn broke, news of the enemy king's surrender reached the victorious Goguryeo forces, cementing their triumph once more. The return to the capital was a procession of adulation, with gifts and accolades showered upon the conquering heroes. Summoned by the king, Seonghwa wasted no time in presenting himself before the monarch, greeted by thunderous applause upon his entrance to the assembly hall. With a respectful bow, he acknowledged the king's commendation.

"I am hardly astonished by our triumph, General Park," declared the king, his voice resonating with pride. "For I have entrusted the finest general in all of Korea to lead our forces. My boy, you have yet again brought honor to our kingdom." Seonghwa, not yet twenty-five, accepted the king's praise with a smug grin, his confidence evident in every gesture.

Presenting a gift to his esteemed general, the king acknowledged its modesty in comparison to Seonghwa's deserving valor. "I, the sovereign of Goguryeo, bestow upon you the most opulent of residences, second only to the royal palace itself. Accompanied by a retinue of one hundred and fifty servants, I grant you The Gladiolus Palace, General Park Seonghwa," announced the king. A subtle smirk gracing his lips, Seonghwa bowed deeply with a glint of satisfaction that sparkled in his eyes.

"You are dismissed. Your belongings await you at your new abode," concluded the king, granting Seonghwa leave with a final nod of approval. Departing with a smug confidence, Seonghwa left the assembly hall, his chest filled with the pride he felt in his achievements on the battlefield.

In the depths of the Baekje empire's palace, amidst the jubilant celebrations of the realm, a starkly different scene unfolded. Locked away in the farthest reaches of the palace, a beautiful princess languished in captivity, deprived even of the most basic necessities. Her uncle and aunt, the reigning king and queen, harbored a dark secret—they had imprisoned the rightful heir to the throne to secure their own son's ascension.

Each day, the princess endured unspeakable torment at the hands of her cruel relatives. Beaten and starved, she bore the brunt of their vindictive punishment simply for the crime of her existence. Confined to shadows and isolation, she hadn't felt the warmth of proper sunlight in over thirteen long years.

To the kingdom at large, the princess was but a forgotten memory, believed to have perished alongside her parents, the former king and queen of the empire. Yet, unbeknownst to them, she continued to endure in silent suffering, a poignant symbol of the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of the kingdom's facade of prosperity and splendor.

Princess Y/N's little brother, burdened by the weight of his sister's unjust captivity, resolved to take action. Despite the risks, he clandestinely reached out to one of his trusted friends, a courtier in the royal palace of the neighboring Goguryeo empire. With a heavy heart and a determination born of desperation, he confided in his friend, sharing the harrowing truth of his sister's plight.

Together, they hatched a daring plan to rescue Princess Y/N from her cruel confinement. Knowing that her captors would never willingly release her, they devised a scheme to secure her freedom under the guise of marriage. The courtier used his influence within the Goguryeo palace to arrange a marriage proposal for Princess Y/N, presenting it as an opportunity for her to escape her oppressive surroundings and start anew in a distant land.

Though fraught with peril and uncertainty, the prospect of marriage offered Princess Y/N a glimmer of hope—a chance to break free from the chains of her captivity and forge her own destiny. And as the wheels of fate began to turn, the stage was set for a daring rescue that would defy the odds.

Ch-1 >>

#ateez #seonghwa #royal #historic #general #hongjoong #san #wooyoung #yunho #jongho #yeosang #ancient korea #medival #princess

[kit-williams]

Act of Devotion

Male Lead: Captain Arkyn Joriki Universe/Au: Warhammer 40k/Yandere Space Marines Canon Status: It's canon.

Okay here me out... its a bit of a hurt/comfort....

How could he not show her his devotion? That thought plagued him... just like when their time together had ended. Sure at first he was saddened as he enjoyed that plucky young guardswoman. Then the days drug on... and on... and on. It drove him mad. How slowly did time tick... the feeling that he had lost something... someone precious... a once in a mortal lifetime sort of person.

Mortal frontlines were brutal and quickly stank of the dead. Yet as the years pulled on... as the way his smiles no longer met his eyes... the dourness in his moods as he ate up any and all information he could about his Elskling's front her lines... he couldn't find anything about her that would trigger suspicion and he was not going to have the Inquisition hold something over his head! But... that long winter had settled in and wrapped around Arkyn's bones.

He had to come to terms that she was gone... she haunted his nights sometimes of the what ifs and could have been. The smile she gave... the laughs she had... the moans they shared... he wasn't expecting to have found what he wanted on a battlefield nestled between her legs. They had fun in more ways then one... it was hardly about the sex as it was more about how they were content... how they laughed... how he let her cry...

And then she was back. A more mature voice... a decade does rough things to a mortal body. Though she said his name with the same warmth and fondness as when he last left her... how could he not have done what he did?

He showed his devotion by stealing his Elskling away. How once the shock of what happened wore off she was a spitting viper and mad as hell at him. He understood! He wasn't a complete fool... he knew what he had done was wrong but... it was either her being in his arms... or him watching her die. He's explained it all to her before... his reasons why... he's said it so many times... he peels open his heart each time.

He tries so very hard to get her to speak with him the same fondness as before. How his yellow brown eyes look to her with unsaid apologies because he wasn't sorry for what he did... he was sorry for how she felt. He would do it again with no hesitation. He tries to have her understand. His brothers are sympathetic to his plight as unhappy partners are a common thing but it always hurts to get to the good part... the part where those platitude statements of love and sex fall from their lips.

He notices all the small things... that should have been his first sign a decade ago... how he could remember how she liked her recaf... how she would sneak some spices into her mac and cheese ration... how the one with bacon bits was one of her favorite and she always tried to trade for those. He could hear it in her conversations with the other partners... how she talks about things she misses... and he tries his best. While he is a more meat of the land sort of man she enjoys her meat from the water... his room is full of small things he has picked out for her.

Even if she is still mad at him the way her eyes soften as he tells her about his time away from her and he has brought her a gift... or something for her to do her hobby... a recipe book or two lays on his shelf next to dataslates full of seasons of some show she loves. Arkyn tries... he really does... he still knows how she likes her recaf in the morning and every morning he can't help but make sure its ready and waiting for her with her favorite mug... and every night he can tell its been used.

He knows it might be awhile before she will warm up to him again. Arkyn is fine with that... simply having her here with him again... to know she is safe... is enough for him to suffer her ire. Because him taking her with him is his highest act of devotion towards her... because he loved her so much he suffered from afar... he would rather suffer from close if she was to be like winter to him.

He placed the cup of recaf by her as she watched some snow fall out the window. He felt her smile warm his skin as she leaned against him and he forced himself to sit lest he lose this moment of affection. Snow was as natural as rain to him he didn't see what she saw but he could see such wonder in her eyes. He bit his tongue to tease her how much she will learn to have a healthy respect for the snow.

"Do you have to be somewhere?" She asks softly.

"No." He replies before he thinks before the meetings that will wait on him lest he linger for too long.

The silence was deafening for him as he listened to her heart beating inside of her chest. "Do... do you think we could make some mac and cheese tonight. I-"

"Lunch we can. I got you some fish to cook up for tonight." Arkyn replies.

"Are you going to be around for lunch?"

"Aye."

He watched her smile at him. "I'll make sure to make enough for the both of us."

Even if he came back and the bowl was only slightly cold... the simple fact that she would leave him a bowl or a plate of food... well Arkyn remembers several of those early nights just eating that food... food made for him... he remembers the happiness as he was able to shake off winter that clung to his bones. He feels her lean against him as he allowed himself to be a couple minutes... fifteen at most... late. And all felt right in Arkyn's world.

Taglist @bispecsual @the-californicationist @egrets-not-regrets @libraryshadow @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

#warhammer 40k #Yandere #male yandere #yandere space marine #space marine #yandere space wolf #space wolves #OC: Arkyn #space marine x reader #x reader #fluffuary2024 #fluffuary

[margindoodles2407]

Rando Link Headcanons: ft BACKSTORIES!!!! WHAT???

Forger: When he and Goddess and Groose were 12, there was a horrible fire on Skyloft. Being a small island, and with all the houses being made of mostly wood, pretty much his entire block was ENGULFED with flames. It claimed the lives of both his parents, Zelda’s mom, and Groose’s grandmother and older sister (who had been raising him), and left all three of them with moderate, but not life-threatening, burn scars- Link’s on his left arm, Zelda’s on her back, and Groose’s along his legs. The lung damage caused by smoke inhalation also gave Link moderate to severe asthma, which is why he has to consume Stamina Fruit and Potion so frequently to replenish his gauge.

Fractal: During his Hyrule's era, it was customary for children training to become knights to apprentice for 5 years under a Blacksmith, because it was considered honorable to wield a sword of one's own forging (and it was practical and more cost-effective to know how to repair your own sword in case it got damaged). That's why he is living with his Grandfather in Minish Cap, even though his father (and his mom okay i want there to be at least ONE link with a healthy intact family) is alive and well. During Minish Cap, he is on his 4th year of apprenticeship and is 15 (alrighty look i know he's a toon link but it's MY headcanons and I can age him up if i need to. which i do.)

Orpheus: Say what you want about "chosen heroes" and "destiny", you can't tell me that out of the blue one day his big sister hands him a flute and he's IMMEDIATELY amazing at it. In fact, he's actually quite terrible at the Ocarina until about right around the time he finishes the Shadow Temple, and until then he has to play every song he tries at LEAST three times before he gets it right because he keeps forgetting proper fingering. (by the time Majora's Mask rolls around though he is quite good at it because he's practiced so much)

Dawnbringer: HETEROCHROMIA. BOY'S GOT A BLUE EYE AND A BROWN EYE. YOU CAN RIP THIS HEADCANON FROM MY COLD DEAD HANDS.

Awakener: He is actually quite good at singing. Aryll is terrified of storms of any kind (which is reasonable, considering hurricane season affects Outset the HARDEST of all the islands), and she would only calm down if he sang to her, especially when she was little. He can also belt shanties like nobody's business. It has earned him considerable respect from Tetra.

Engineer: First of all, like what I said for Fractal: he may be a Toon Link, but these are my headcanons and if I feel the need to age him up then I reserve that right. He is 18- because you can't tell me that they're SERIOUSLY going to let a 12-year-old graduate from Train School; this may be a Hyrule but I'd like to think that Tetra would have had more common sense than that when she wrote the New Hyrulian Constitution- however, he is quite short and has a BABY. FACE. and people consistently think he's younger than he is, aging him at around 14. Which I think is hilarious because this technically makes him the physically oldest Link and yet people would assume that he's one of the younger ones. (Phantasma suffers from this plight too, though to a lesser extent).

Odysseus: After the events of his games- and after he has moved into the palace to be Visionary's personal guard- he keeps a small garden where he grows plants that hold symbolic meanings from his adventures: Apples to commemorate his uncle, Hibiscus bushes to remind him of Marin, Mystery Seed Plants from Holodrum, and a cutting from the plant Roperi was growing in Labrynna's distant past.

Graffiti: He and Ravio look identical, except for the colors of their hair and skin and eyes. In most incarnations, people would tend to portray them as hating this fact, however, MY versions of them find it HILARIOUS and will sometimes dye each others' hair and wear contacts and try to pass off as the other. Hilda and Icon see right through it, of course, but several castle attendants in both Hyrule and Lorule have been completely fooled by it until the boys can't hide their laughter anymore.

Genesis: My man is quite the survivalist and can and will go DAYS without eating because his body is just used to it (due to his childhood years of living in the wild on his own in a cave). It drives Dawn MAD. She has to force him to eat sometimes (but he adores her so all she has to do is ask nicely). However, he is an AVID tea drinker (and ind of a tea snob) so, though he might miss meals regularly, make him late for TEA TIME and he will END YOU.

Luminary: During his last stand 100 years ago, he was WRECKED by the guardians- much more than would have been appropriate to show in-game. In fact, his left eye was COMPLETELY destroyed. During his century-long nap, it had to be totally repaired by Sheikah Tech, and so it has these threads of orange Ichor intertwined with the blue of his iris. This is what allows his encyclopedic knowledge of the things in the game- like how the Champion's tunic lets him see enemy health gauges, the identification of item names and weapon stats after he's interacted with them once, and the names of locations when he enters them.

#margin's links #margin rambles #HEADCANONS :D!!!

[crawley-fell]

For the brainrot series - as though you don't have enough requests, but I heard this song again today and the resulting assault on my imagination has irrevocably damaged my sanity, and I had to say something because I will not be suffering alone.

Okay, so, picture this:

Crowley is tired of the way things have been weird in this vague post-S3 world I'm picturing, and he's decided he's gonna Do Something About It (mostly because he's already about 'if I'm not a bush I'm not no one' levels of drunk). Naturally, he decides that what he's gonna do is woo his angel.

Easy enough. Humans do this shit all the time, and without the benefit of 6000 years of mutual pining and some slinky hips. In fact, thanks to his extensive knowledge of romcoms (a must for any demon if they want to learn inventive ways to sow discord among couple, etc, and for no other reason), he's decided that the perfect course of action is to serenade Aziraphale with a song that perfectly encapsulates his squishy, kind of embarrassingly soft feelings that the angel just has to give in and accept his expertly plighted troth (probably not a euphemism).

He is, at this point, at the 'I'm washing me and my clothes' stage of his drinking binge, but he's nervous, so sue him.

It takes him foreeeeever to pick a song (he only knows "bebop" won't do, but unfortunately that covers such a wide and sometimes contradictory swath of all music made since the 1940s, it's pretty impossible), and he keeps second guessing himself, so he makes it to the 'Kiefer Sutherland tackling a Christmas tree' stage of blitzed and hits shuffle on his 'Embarrassing Angelfeels I Can Never Admit To Even Under Pain Of Total Annihilation' Spotify playlist et VOILA! The perfect song! Crowley can't believe his luck, and he sets his plan into motion before he can do something stupid, like sober up.

So, it's about 3 in the morning at this point, and Crowley has set up his speaker system in the middle of the street facing Aziraphale's bookshop, and as you do, he climbs onto a stolen crate (containing an order of dildos the adult entertainment shop three streets over is going to be looking for in about five hours) and shouts for Aziraphale until the angel, and anyone else unfortunate enough to be hanging around at 3am on a Wednesday (mostly Mrs. Sandwich and her girls and poor Nina, who has unwisely chosen to arrive extra early to wait on a delivery of hazelnut syrup), pops their heads out to see what the deuce is going on.

Once he sees his darling angel, Crowley takes another swig of frankly embarrassingly cheap vodka for a demon of his tastes, hefts hus microphone, and starts to sing (for a given value of sing).

It starts off soft, all chimes and romantic piano, full of joy and longing, and Aziraphale's face does that thing where he's definitely embarrassed, but also pleased, so Crowley shuts his eyes, and that's when the disco beat drops.

Oh yes. Crowley is about to fucking boogie down for the love of his life.

He busts out all the moves, wiggling those slinky hips (because he's never been one not to use every weapon at his disposal), belting out mostly the right lyrics in somewhat the right key, generally on time and everything.

Aziraphale's face, if Crowley would open his eyes and look, is now crossing over into horrified, yet hopelessly enamored, with a dash of down bad. His tastes are varied and interesting, okay?

The music fades out before Crowley does, still belting for a good thirty seconds after the track changes to 'The Edge of Glory', which isn't as perfect for his purposes, but Aziraphale hasn't fallen to his knees in besotted supplication (also not a euphemism, probably), so Crowley figures he may as well, and the whole street is both glad and a little disappointed that this is when Aziraphale steps away from the shop door, reaches up for Crowley's hand, and drags him off the box of dildos and towards the shop.

"That's lovely, dear. Why don't we go inside so you can sleep this off before we talk about it."

Crowley, of course, follows along happily, about 80% sure that is a euphemism, and decides send a little blessing to Barbra Streisand in gratitude. He knew 'The Main Event/Fight' had been the right song to choose.

(It was not, in fact, a euphemism, and Crowley thinks the squirming agony of having to listen to Aziraphale somehow turn a love confession into a lecture about proper methods of courtship and being considerate of human sleep cycles while suffering the worst hangover of his entire existence is possibly the best worst thing he's ever experienced. Hell should take notes.)

(They spend the rest of the day getting to know each other, and that is a euphemism.)

Now.

Did I fail to peel this mental image off the surface of my brain for the last 24 hours and decide to share the agony and the ecstasy of it? Oh yes.

Is it the perfect song to confess your love to your ineffable crush with? Debatable, but it has good results of one (1) success and no failures so far, so we can't really say no.

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

The level of detail in this is unmatched. The creativity? Inspired. When I started th brainrot series never did I think I would receive something of this gravitas. Bravo my dear, I'm in the palm of your hand. And the specificity of the playlist turning to Edge Of Glory? Delicious. This is truly, marvellously unhinged. God bless the Babs and to you for the gift you have bestowed upon me. I will treat it with love and care.

#i encourage you all to read this it really is an outstanding image that i look forward to brining to life #thank u so much for dropping this into my inbox u icon #ask #brainrot series requests

[s-leary]

Treat every customer like they’re your 85-year-old grandma who’s never done a real estate deal, HomeVestors trainers tell franchise owners at annual conferences. But a ProPublica investigation — based on court documents, property records, company training materials and interviews with 48 former franchise owners and dozens of homeowners who have sold to its franchises — found HomeVestors franchisees that used deception and targeted the elderly, infirm and those so close to poverty that they feared homelessness would be a consequence of selling. One HomeVestors franchisee falsely claimed to a 72-year-old woman suffering from a hoarding problem that city code enforcement officers would take her house, according to court documents. An Arizona woman said in an interview that she was forced to live in her truck after trying unsuccessfully to cancel the sale of her home. One court case documented the plight of an elderly man in Florida who was told if he sold his condo he could continue living there temporarily. But he spent his final days alive waiting to be evicted when — after the contract was signed — the franchise owner informed him the homeowners association rules didn’t allow it. “You were always lying to them. That’s what we were trained,” said Katie Southard, who owned a franchise in North Carolina.

The Ugly Truth Behind “We Buy Ugly Houses” — ProPublica

#homevestors #real estate #capitalism #housing #propublica

[hero-israel]

There was a Shoah movie where the Jews fought back: Defiance, and everyone HATED IT because they projected some kind of judgment onto the Jews who "went quietly to their deaths" when that wasn't the message of that movie at all. So it doesn't really matter whether the Jews resist their genocidal oppression or not, it'll get criticized and problematized and thinkpiecified no matter what.

I also find it funny that Schindler's List has nothing to "teach" because it is literally a Hollywood structure of the Hero's Journey. Oskar Schindler has to learn about Jewish suffering and to value Jewish life, and use every tool in his arsenal to try to save the people he grows to care about. Several Jewish characters lecture him on their plight and he goes from dismissive to never being able to bear the psychological weight of not getting just 1 or 2 more Jews out.

It's a movie about the man who has everything to gain from exploited Jewish labor and suffering, who is barely moved by the oppression he sees, to being horrified by the dehumanization and slaughter taking place, who risks everything to rescue as many people as he can. It's a parable of what it is the average person's responsibility to do. The message is clear: If you find yourself being an Oskar Schindler in times of oppression and genocide, your duty is to become the kind of person he became.

Like sorry I won't stand for Schindler's List slander!

SL is in very rare company, if not unique, in being a Holocaust film that is historically accurate, artfully made, and - this term seems really inappropriate - "watchable." I've watched it twice and could see myself watching it a third time someday, likely when my kids are old enough. It has legitimate educational, historical value.

It also has shortcomings. It sets viewer expectations to normalize Gentile saviors, grateful Jews, quasi-happy endings. It is very, very much the exception to the rule of those years. A more fair, representative movie about the Holocaust was "The Gray Zone." Relentlessly bleak, tortuously painful, the Jews do scrape together an uprising, then they all die anyway. It's really what history classes should be watching, I'm sure most teachers wouldn't dare, and having watched it once myself I'm sure I can't sit through it again.

#shoah #schindler's list #defiance #gray zone #noah berlatsky #judaism #jumblr

[locustheologicus]

Mother Frances Cabrini: The Saint of the Immigrants (and a model for those of us who serve the immigrant communities)

The National Endowment for the Humanities offers a wonderful resource on the life of St. Frances Cabrini, the first American Saint. The article goes into the depth of Mother Cabrini who is describes as “a woman fully Italian and fully American, a pragmatic and empathetic leader, and a remarkable humanitarian whose faith charged her tireless work for impoverished and marginalized immigrants.”

In 1889 she was commissioned by Pope Leo XIII, the author of Rerum Novarum, the famed encyclical which would give birth to Catholic social teaching, to go with her Italian community to America. Pope Leo XIII recognized the challenges that migrants faced in America and he wanted to make sure the Church was responding to their social and spiritual needs.

How sad and fraught with trouble is the state of those who yearly emigrate in bodies to America for the means of living is so well known to you that there is no need of us to speak of it at length. . . . It is, indeed, piteous that so many unhappy sons of Italy, driven by want to seek another land, should encounter ills greater than those from which they would fly. And it often happens that to the toils of every kind by which their physical life is wasted, is added the far more wretched ruin of their souls. – Pope Leo XIII

Evidently it was recognized that many of the American Catholic community shared in the anti-immigrant prejudice that the majority of America had for the Italian community at that time. She came to New York and saw the plight that the immigrants suffered as they were either neglected or abused from those who wanted to use them for cheap labor. 

My thoughts run to our many immigrants who arrive annually on the shores of the Atlantic, moving into the already overcrowded cities of the East, and there they encounter many difficulties and meager wages. In our small sphere we are helping to solve important social problems, in every State and every city where our houses are opened. In these homes, we receive the orphans, the sick, the poor: thousands of children are instructed, not only that, but the good that is done is immense, through contact with the people who facilitate our institutions. – Mother Cabrini

Her community went to the poorest immigrant communities in New York. Her Missionary Sisters went to communities where allegedly the police feared to go. The social injustices of the late 1800′s was daunting. In 1890, one year after Mother Cabrini came to New York, Jacob Riis published  “How the Other Half Lives,” documenting the intense squalor where immigrants lived in New York City.

Mother Cabrini did not let this stop her. Her goal was not to solve the political issue but to respond to the needs they encountered.

What we as women cannot do on a large scale to help solve grave social ills is being done in our small sphere of influence in every state and city where we have opened houses. In them we shelter and care for orphans, the sick and the poor. – Mother Cabrini

The movie that is about to come out tells the story of Mother Cabrini and the courage she had to organize institutional responses to the plight of the immigrant. Mother Cabrini and her Missionary Sisters set up schools, orphanages, and hospitals. In the end, they opened sixty-seven institutions in nine countries, on three continents. The movie depicts the challenges she faces throughout American society including the pressure from the political system and the local Catholic Church. A local church that walks a fine line between the prophetic Gospel values on one side and corruptive influences of local politics on the other. Mother Cabrini’s story has much to offer us as we respond to the current immigrant crisis that once again befalls our great city. Once again we have some Catholics and political conservatives that either promote an anti-immigrant position or are to timid to support the new arrivals. But we also have other Catholics who, in the spirit of Mother Cabrini, champion the social teachings of the Church that began under Pope Leo XIII and continue with Pope Francis.  

With immigrants, take this path of integration into society. It is not a work of charity to leave immigrants where they are. No. Charity involves taking them and integrating them, with education, with job placement, with all these things. - Pope Francis

The work of Catholic Charities has been to promote the values of our social  tradition and to follow the powerful model of saints like Mother Cabrini. Mother Frances Cabrini teaches us how to recognize the preferential option for the poor and struggle to promote the dignity of all people, especially those who are socially marginalized. In the movie you can hear her prophetically yelling “we are all human beings, we are all the same,” to the powers that be in the New York City. This is a central principle of Catholic social teaching that needs to be enforced now just as it needed to be heard then. 

It is worth remembering that in order to respond to these challenges Mother Cabrini surrounded herself with prayer. This was necessary so the God could guide her and keep her centered on these values as she responded to the deep social challenges that the migrant community, and those who served them, encountered.   

Fortify me with the grace of Your Holy Spirit and give Your peace to my soul that I may be free from all needless anxiety and worry. Help me to desire always that which is pleasing and acceptable to You so that Your will may be my will. – Mother Cabrini

Here is a one page biography on Mother Frances Cabrini to download. It includes the following prayer of intercession:

Good and loving God, Thank you for the beautiful example of your servant, Frances Cabrini. Help her life to inspire us to listen to your call, persevere in working for the poor, and tirelessly put others before ourselves. Bless the poor and the immigrants around us and those who work for them. Strengthen the efforts of all the saints striving on your earth today. Amen.

#youtube #cabrini

[namig42]

Yo, new Sahed lore just dropped.

Read it here on Ao3

I had a nightmare last night that I woke up from around 2 am where, tldr, I got stuck in a room flooding with lava, and it was a bad time. My immediate response when I woke up was how to turn this nightmare into some good fiction, and it gave me an idea of something awful Sahed would do.

Anyways, please enjoy Sahed bringing more suffering into the world

---

Gardon's Lair

Once, many years ago, there lived a village in a rocky valley known as Gardon’s Pass. The town itself was poor and had very little in any means. The rocky terrain made it difficult to grow food and raise livestock, and on top of the environmental issues, there was the greater threat of Gardon, the legendary dragon that threatened the town on an annual basis.

Gardon was a legendary red dragon that had lived in a lair near the town for centuries. At one time, Gardon was a valiant protector of his pass, keeping the village safe from outside forces. The town had only survived threats of invasion because of the dragon, but it was also because of him that they now barely managed to live through the day to day. When Gardon was still a  young dragon, he fell ill in his cave due to hoarding magical artifacts that held dark magic. He had vanquished a foreign invading force that wielded these dark powers, and took home their loot as his reward for a job well done. This tainted magic infected Gardon, turning his valorant heart into one of greed and evil. This infection also turned his pure, bright red flame into a thick sludge of lava, an ailment that would last for centuries.

The village had relied on Gardon for protection throughout their entire history, so when the day came that he began demanding an annual sacrifice, the town accepted his demands, though were a bit disheartened. Gardon was their protector, so if he said he required a sacrifice, there must be a good reason for it, right? For years and years, they blindly sacrificed their young, budding adults, until one day there was a revolt. The young generation was sick of feeling threatened every year that they may be given up for slaughter like cattle, and rebelled against Gardon’s wish. That year, the town did not give Gardon his sacrifice, and they learned what a true monster their legendary dragon had become.

Gardon left his cave for the first time in centuries, flying over the town and spewing pools of lava above the city. He burnt homes, crops, and flooded the exits to the village so that the people would be trapped. He did immense damage, but did not annihilate the town completely. He wanted them alive and to know that they could not escape his power. Without an exit, the people offered him three sacrifices to end the disaster, and Gardon accepted. He took his offerings of two young women and one young man back to his lair, and hasn’t been seen since. It’s been years since that awful tragedy, but the villagers learned their lesson: they were at Gardon’s mercy, and could not afford to revolt. At least, not on their own they couldn’t.

Sahed had read stories of Gardon once and was fascinated by the magic that infected Gardon, both spiritually and physically. He wanted to take a trip to this rocky valley and study Gardon up close. There was magic to be studied here, but also seeing the power of such a mighty beast sounded too enticing to pass up.

Sahed made his way to the human village, which somehow still managed to be standing after all these years of suffering. The people were wary when Sahed came to their town, scared of any outsiders who may have come and threatened their peace. Sahed assuaged them though by telling them that he was an honorable warrior that roamed the countryside, seeking out evil beasts to slay. He had heard the plight of Gardon and his decades of torment, and had decided to come to help rid the village of his scourge.

The townspeople rejoiced! Never in their history had someone come to help them, to rid them of the evil that they were not strong enough to rid themselves. This mighty dragonborn must be knowledgeable of a dragon’s weaknesses, and what perfect timing! There was to be a sacrifice given in a week’s time. Maybe, this year, if they could vanquish Gardon, there would be no sacrifice. Not this year, or ever again. They were so inspired that they agreed with little thought to follow Sahed into battle.

The strongest of the townspeople readied themselves for the battle of a lifetime, numbering about 80 in total. They did not have much in the means of weaponry, but they had enough arms to feel confident in supporting the dragonborn warrior that led them into battle. The small battalion made their way to Gardon’s lair, which was only a short trek outside of their town in the valley they lived in. The lair’s entrance was a small enclave that had a hidden, stone door which opened to a large cave. Sahed guessed that perhaps there must’ve been an entrance in the ceiling somewhere in the cave that Gardon flew out of, or perhaps he shapeshifted into a smaller form in order to enter and exit the cave. Upon entering the stone door, he assumed the latter of the two options. The inside was incredibly dark, going deep into the earth. The only light that penetrated the cave was that of glowing plants and crystals. There was a whole, mountainous environment inside his lair, almost as if they were in the Underdark. The battalion moved slowly down into the depths of the cave with Sahed leading from the front. To have any luck of success, they’d have to ambush Gardon, though they were at a disadvantage since they didn’t know where he was.

Sahed spoke to the villagers telling them that dragon’s had strong senses and wouldn’t be ambushed so easily. He advised that perhaps they should wait near the entrance that they came in and try to set a trap for Gardon, that way they would also have a chance of escape if things went south. The villagers appreciated his caution and returned to where they began, devising a plan on an effective trap for Gardon. Since there was only a week until the next sacrifice, he would likely be hungry or in whatever mood prompted him to come take his sacrifice, lowering his awareness and strength. They decided that perhaps they’d feign an early sacrifice, trying to get in his good graces, and ambush him when he came for his offering.

The townspeople voted on a young man they would offer Gardon, preparing him as they often would by removing his armor and preparing him in a delicate, white robe. The leader of the village told Sahed that he should stay hidden until the battle commenced. If Gardon spotted an outsider of the village, he would attack immediately, losing them the advantage. Sahed wholeheartedly agreed and told them that he would stand just outside the lair’s entrance and listen for when the commotion started. Only when the battle started would he run in and slay the beast, just as he promised.

As Sahed moved outside, he decided that he wanted to see the extent of Gardon’s power and what it could do, all without being threatened himself. He cast an invisible arcane barrier on the open wall outside, turning the seemingly open small room that led into the cave into a closed one, though no one would be able to tell unless they tried to flee.

And it seemed that someone did try. A young girl, barely sixteen from the looks of it, had come through the stone door. She was breathing quickly with her arms hugged tightly around her torso. She was frazzled and froze in place when she saw Sahed standing in front of her. It was then that he saw tears falling down her face. “Oh… I’m… I’m sorry…” she apologized, wiping her tear streaks away. Sahed stood there frozen, his face not expressing any sort of empathy or comfort. The girl was not familiar with dragonborn, so she assumed that was how they all looked normally. “I’m… I’m not brave, not like my mother, not like my brother. I don’t want to die here. I’m not a warrior, but I thought that maybe, if I came, I could try to be brave, just like them.”

Sahed took a seat in front of the barrier and motioned to a spot against the wall inside the small room for the girl to sit at. “Perhaps your confidence only needs a moment to return. You’re shaken, it’s understandable. You face a mighty foe, after all.” The girl, appreciative of the kind words, did sit against the opposite rock wall and faced Sahed. She leaned her back against the stone and took some deep breaths. After just a few minutes, she laughed a small laugh. “Perhaps you’re right… I feel a bit better now. Everyone is just so determined to kill Gardon, and I want to help. I just don’t think I’m ready.”

Sahed looked at her, giving her his practiced smile that emulated warmth and kindness. “A true warrior allows fear into their heart in order to know that they value life. If you are scared, then that means you will be one of the few who have the strongest will to live, making you more of a threat than any sword-swinging barbarian.” The girl smiled at these words, “yeah… yeah, you’re right! You’re right!” She stood up excitedly and bowed to Sahed. “Thank you for your encouragement, Sir Dragonborn! I think I can help now!” Sahed offered her a silent nod with a smirk before she ran back into the cave.

Minutes passed, then an hour, and just as Sahed was becoming bored with waiting, he heard a loud roar followed by a large battlecry.

Oh good, the show had begun.

He stepped through his barrier to watch from the stone door. The villagers were putting up a bit of a fight, it seemed. One brave fool managed to make his way onto Gardon’s back and had attempted to pierce Gardon’s neck. It was the boy in the white robe that was the pseudo-sacrifice. Unfortunately, his blade was too dull compared to Gardon’s scales. The brave warrior seemed to be crawling up Gardon’s neck with a new plan forming in his small brain. Gardon flung his neck furiously, but was also distracted by the many villagers swarming around his feet. The brave idiot climbing him managed to hold on tight and did make his way up to Gardon’s head. With a wide swing, he plunged his sword into Gardon’s eye, causing Gardon to shriek in a way that shook the cave. His pained roar sent a wave of fear through the warriors, and Sahed could see that young girl he had just inspired froze in place. She had been standing on the back of the lines, wielding a sword herself, and though she seemed mighty just a moment ago, she was back to being the scared coward she was when she tried to escape the first time.

As Gardon’s roar ceased, the wave of lava came next. It erupted from his mouth, and Sahed was fascinated by the viscosity of it. It seemed thicker than regular lava, almost phlegm-like. Fascinating, he thought as a smile grew on his face. He’d have to study the magic that infected Gardon later. For now, it seemed that it was his cue to step out of his barrier once more. He turned away from the battle and took just a few measly steps into the outdoors, making sure that his barrier was sealed for all but him once he was securely outside. As he turned around to view the battle from his new position, he heard someone panting. It was the girl. She was trying to flee.

Unfortunately for her, she slammed into the barrier in her attempt to escape. It seemed though that she was confused and thought that she had run into Sahed instead. “Oh… Mr. Dragonborn, please, we need your help! I’m not ready, I can’t do it, but you can! You can slay Gardon! Please! The lava has already taken half our people! Please, hurry and end Gardon before anyone else dies!”

Sahed loomed over her just outside the barrier that she still didn’t seem to notice and gave her a menacing smile, the first real smile he had offered anyone in this bumpkin town.

“No.” is all he said, smiling down at her dawning horror.

The betrayal and shock on her face were a real treat. She looked up at him like a gaping fish, unable to process what was happening. Her shock was broken by another roar, and as she turned around, she saw Gardon had spotted her trying to flee. It seemed everyone else had melted away by now. The girl ran to the door and shut it, thinking that she would be safe, and began to try to run back to her village once more. This time though, she ran into the barrier directly. She finally realized she was trapped.

“What is this?!” she screamed in panic as she banged against the barrier. She felt around the invisible wall, looking for an escape. Sahed took a step back to admire her flailing. “Did you do this?!” she screamed at Sahed. The fear was taking over more than she could have ever imagined. Sahed stood tall with his hands behind his back as he admired his trap. His smile grew as he saw a pool of lava begin to flow in from beneath the door. It wasn’t until the lava reached the girl’s feet that she realized it as well.

She screamed from the sudden, burning pain and tried to scale the wall in panic like a little spider, but the lava only came closer. Sahed watched the floor pool with lava, and once that was done, watched as the lava rose in level, beginning to flood the room entirely. He watched the girl climb the wall in her panic, making it all the way to the top, only for the lava to still reach her.

“No! Please!” the girl cried desperately as the lava reached her backside. She screamed louder and louder as it engulfed her, each scream becoming more shrill, turning from terror to pain. Her final cries were music to Sahed’s ears. He watched as she disappeared from sight, the whole room in front of him now one big lava tank.

After her screams finally ceased, he took a step to the side and let down his barrier. As his invisible wall faded, the lava slowly oozed out of the room. Sahed was surprised to see that the girl’s remains were still somewhat intact. Some flesh still remained on her bones, but she was in no way recognizable. Normally, he assumed that lava consumed all - flesh and bone - but perhaps this lava burned at a lower temperature, taking longer to consume matter into its heat. It also meant that the burning would be slower and longer, causing an even greater deal of suffering before death could take a person. Incredible… Sahed thought to himself.

Now, after admiring Gardon’s power firsthand, it was time to investigate the magic that created such an incredible beast. Sahed made his way past the burnt corpse and opened the stone door, entering the cave and ready to investigate Gardon.

---

I want to write more too about Gardon and Sahed interacting, so that'll be some intriguing character exploration. If you got this far, thank you for reading! Hope it wasn't too rough! Please take care, and feel free to hate the monster known as Sahed, or maybe love how awful he is!

#mine #sahed #oc #dnd #original story #gardon #ocs #long post #ao3