#tw:feels

[god-of-mischief-here-tada]

Frigga & Loki || Mother

[itsflavershamolivia-blog]

The Boy with the Really Long Name || Self Para

Olivia sat outside in a lounge chair, soaking in the late August sun. Her belly consumed her entire body as Prewitt kept growing and growing. As she sipped some lemonade, her belly tensed. She peeked from her sunglasses and saw it relax. Olivia paid no mind and went about her relaxing.

Twenty minutes went by and it happened again. “Da’!” She shouted. “How do ya know when ya’re in labor?” Olivia eased herself off the chair and cautiously crossed the yard. “Da’!” She shouted once more but the sound of a hammer clanged from the wood shop. Olivia changed her course and headed there instead. She paused only to take a breath. “Da’!” She threw the door open and shouted.

“Yes, Livie.” He plopped his goggles on his head as a huge grin swept across his sawdust covered face.

“How do ya know when ya’re in labor?” She asked.

“Contractions are usually a good indicator.” He said with a laugh.

“And those-” Olivia’s sentence was cut off as she felt a pop from within and a rush of warm water gushed down her legs. “Da’?”

“Yes, Livie.” He looked as mortified as she was.

“Did me water just break?” She dared not to look at what laid on the floor. Hiriam stared. His face was ghost white. “Da’! What do I do?”

“To the hospital.” He patted his dust-covered hands on his smock and removed it. “Where did ya plan on havin’ the baby?”

“I have a port key from Aled to get there.” She examined her father and pursed her lips. “Come inside. I’ll clean ya up, then we can leave.”

**

"Well, Miss Flaversham,” Aled, the massive Welsh healer, came in with a clipboard. “Your water broke.” He nodded looking at the papers. “Because of that, we have to admit you.” Then he tucked the clipboard under his arm and grinned. “Are you ready to have this baby?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” She glanced at her father, who hadn’t said a word since he asked where she was going to deliver the baby.

One of the nurses came in with a wheelchair and helped load Olivia and all of her things, a few bags of belongs, outfits for the baby to wear home, and all that cute adorable stuff she thought she would need.

Time ticked by slowly. The contractions grew closer and closer but she wasn’t dilating. “Hang in there. These things can take some time.” Aled came in and checked on Olivia for the twentieth time.

“Da’?” Olivia felt woozy and the room began to spin. “I don’t feel so good.” With her words, the machines started to whirl and twirl as sirens went off. The world Weebles-wobbled. Aled’s huge figure came into the room and pulled the papers that shot out of the machine. His words were muffled as his large feet kicked the lever to engage the wheels of Olivia’s bed. Olivia’s head hit the pillow as they came to a sudden stop.

When her eyes opened she was at the Applecross Station but it was all white. “Hello?” She called out. “Uh, hello?”

A figure walked toward her. At first, it was blurry, the light behind the figure darkening out who it was. “Oh, Livie.” but Olivia didn’t need to see the figure’s face. She knew that voice anywhere.

“Mum.” She muttered. “Where am I?”

“Ya’re dyin’ Livie.” She was finally close enough for Olivia to see her face. She was more beautiful than she could remember. Her heart tugged as tears formed in her eyes. “We don’t have much time. I’m just here to meet ya and make sure ya got a message.”

“No, ya can’t go. I haven’t seen ya in a lifetime.” Olivia grabbed her mother’s wrist like a small child begging her mother for a toy.

“Ya need to make a choice, live or die.” Her mother gently took Olivia’s hand from her wrist and gently put it at her side. “I will be here when it is yar time. There is someone else who wants to see ya. Remember, make a choice. Once ya do, that’s it.” Her mother caressed her cheek and smiled. “If ya go back, please tell ya father that I love him.” Her mother sped off as tears collected in the corners of her eyes.

Olivia watched as her mother became a silhouette and another walked beside her. They paused. Exchanged a few words and the other figure came toward her.

Olivia’s heart skipped. She must have been dreaming. She was looking at Michael. His face was aglow with life and vitality. But that couldn’t be true. He was dead. She knew that but there he was, walking toward her.

“Hey, Liv.” Before he could say anything else, Olivia was in his arms. He had to be real, she could feel his warmth holding her. She could feel his breath as he laughed. She cupped his face in her hands as she examined his face.

“How is this even possible?” Olivia stared at him in awe. “Me mum. She said something to me. Why can’t I remember?” She rubbed her temple. “Why am I here? Why are ya here?”

“I can’t tell you,” Michael spoke. “You have to remember.” His eyes were wide with worry. “Olivia, you need to remember.”

“Remember what?” She was frantic. Her head throbbed. “Why are ya here? Ya’re dead. Am I dead? Wait, am I dying?” Michael nodded.

“If you want to.” Olivia’s smile grew. “but you have a choice.” Michael stepped back and took her hand in his.

“I don’t want to go back without ya.” She put both her hands in his. “It’s been so rough without ya.” She looked down as if her brain was trying to tap into a memory. It was fuzzy but a name came to mind. Multiple names as a matter of fact. “Who is Prewitt?”

“I can’t tell you.” A small frown pressed between his lips.

Olivia ripped her hands from his. “What can ya tell me then? Cause this is bullshit.”

“Olivia, you need to remember on your own. I’m sorry.” He reached for her but she stepped away. “Please, don’t make this any harder. You need to remember.”

“Remember what?!” She shouted. “I remember you dying. I-I-I- the baby. Prewitt. Where is Prewitt? Is he dead, too? Where is my baby?” Her hands clutched onto Michael’s shirt and fear washed over her.

“You have to choose. Stay here with me or go back with him.” Michael’s words echoed in her mind. How cruel the universe is to make her choose between the love of her life or the product of that love.

Olivia released his shirt and dropped her hands to hug him around his waist. Her head rested against his chest. If she could just melt into him for the rest of time, she would.

“I don’t want to choose.” She whispered as tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt her heart breaking all over again. No matter what, she would be saying goodbye to someone.

Olivia stood in Michael’s embrace for a while. It felt like a century and to let go would be too soon.

“Liv,” Michael lifted her face to his, “you really have to decide.” His forehead pressed against hers.

Tears ran down her cheeks as she tried to hold it together. “What do I do?”

“I can’t tell you, Liv.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks and held her gaze. “You need to pick on your own.”

“Did ya get to choose?” She felt a lump build in her throat. There was a small bit of her that didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to know that he chose to die instead of staying with her but the question was out. She couldn’t take it back.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t ya stay?” She pushed away again as her anger took over. “How could ya chose to leave me?” Her face contorted as she fought with tears.

“Olivia, it wasn’t a decision that I made lightly. I wasn’t going to be me.” He reached for her hand only to have her pull it away. “And I saw something. I knew no one would believe me. It would have put you at risk. Dying was my only way to protect you.” She looked at him, furious with his words. “Please believe me.”

“What do ya mean by protectin' me?” The ground quaked and dark clouds began to roll in with thunder.

“Liv, I can’t talk about that right now. You are running out of time. You need to choose. Prewitt or Me.”

“How do I chose? I love you. I love Prewitt.” Tears streamed down her face. It was coming in clear what she had to do. If Michael left to protect her, she would need to protect Prewitt. She would need to go back. It didn’t make things any easier for her. If anything it tore her heart out all over again.

She looked at him and he knew what she decided. “I’ll always be here.” He said as she melted back into his embrace. “You need to go.”

“I know.” She sucked back the tears and looked at him. “I love you, Michael.” She planted a firm kiss on his lips as a bright flash of light washed over everything.

“Olivia!?” Her eyes fluttered open to see her father with red puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. “Oh blessed Lord, ya're alive.” He pressed his forehead against her.

“What happened?” Her memory was foggy. Her fingers gingerly touched her baby bump. Shock and terror washed over her when she noticed it was considerably smaller. “Where’s Prewitt? Where’s me baby?!” She tried to sit up but was stopped by wires.

“Honey, you’ve been in a coma for a few days.” Her father tried to console her.

“Where is Prewitt?!” She screamed. “Where is me son!?”

A nurse rushed in followed by Aled. “Olivia, please calm down. Prewitt is alright.” Aled was holding a small little bundle as the nurse started to unhook Olivia from all the wires. “Just let Marie do her job.”

Olivia sat up slowly as she was freed. Her arms stretched out as her fingers feverishly beckoned to the small bundle. “Prewitt, meet your mother.” Aled gently placed the little baby in Olivia’s arms.

Olivia’s tears couldn’t be contained as she looked at her little dark haired baby. His eyes fluttered open and looked at her. “Hey, Prew.” She touched the dark tuft upon his head and a tiny smile stretched across his lips. “Ya got ya da’s hair.” She smiled through the tears.

“Da’,” She reached for her father’s hand. “Mum says she loves you.” She whispered in his ear. She flashed a smile as she looked at him. They were quite the pair, father, and daughter. The two had tears in their eyes as they chuckled.

Prewitt’s cry made them stop. “Oh pardon me, Mister.”

[brainstorming-music]

So I'v been absent from tumblr for a while now, mostly because I've been too busy with work, university and being a DM, but there is something else. A point came where I couldn't be much time in front of the computer, because I felt like life was slipping away, heck I still feel like that, but the reason for that is because I feel stuck. Prisoner in my own country, my homeland, my craddle, the place where I was born, raised, educated, loved and learned to love, fell in love, got engaged, lost my virginity *cough* among others. The fact is, I've been falling into depression while watching my country fall apart, be drained away by some corrupt pseudo-socialists motherfuckers who have destroyed everything.

So while I was confined to my own house as people fought with the national guard, protesting against insecurity and well everything else, I just couldn't help but cry, feel useless as the country I love burnt. My own mind is telling me to get the fuck out of here, to go and get a job or study somewhere else so I have a chance to live, to be independant, to get my own house/apartment, a car, travel, LIVE. But at the same time, my heart asks, screams, cries for me to stay, to fight for what's mine... I know that is something impossible, but I just can't help but wonder...

Now the other part is I can't get out of here, I feel small, powerless. Leaving to go to Canada and live with my fianceé seems every bit more impossible by the day, I can't even get into a community college, her family doesn't even want to make a phone call to help me get a job and move. I feel stuck, my soul screams in agony, in a void where no one can hear it, my heart bleeds in despair where only my loved one can help me patch it up. But it isn't enough, not even the poems I write, the music that flows through my hands can ease my mind or my soul.

There has come a point where I have to do something I didn't want to do because I know there are people who need it more than I do and I am a person who likes and has learned to do things by myself. I have to ask for help.

Help, please... I can't do this by myself no matter how hard I try, I can't. I feel broken as if fighting against a brick wall with my fists. I just can't... So please, help...

[arrowsandradiation]

I'm sorry, I won't do it again.

Send "I'm sorry, I won't do it again," to see what my character would do if they were in an abusive relationship and was just hit by yours.

Silence.

       He was silent for a couple of seconds, before a hand raised to carefully touch the heated spot on his cheek. He could taste copper in his mouth, could feel his lip bleeding. He slowly looked up to the other, completely silent, his face as neutral as it could be.

Suddenly, he was caught back in his memories, back when he had still been with his father. There was yelling, there was a loud "ROBERT" in his head and he swallowed, closing his eyes to let the memory fade away. His hands started shaking and he stepped back as Steve stepped forward.

It was funny to see, the person who could destroy Harlem in a heartbeat was not even angry. No, he accepted it, like he always had, as if it was his own fault that he'd gotten hit. There was a need in him to apologize, yet there was not a word coming from his lips as he stepped back once more, feeling his heart starting to hurt in his chest.

[starrystrife]

I'm really sleepy and this is where my filter goes nuts So im gonna lay it out there for the internet to see I'm so fucking sorry to my friends who have to put up with me Im really grateful for you guys and i put you through difficult situations all the goddamn time And i really wish that i hadnt fucked up everything And we couldve been a great bug happy family Im so fucking sorry I dont know what the fuck But im just sorry And im glad you guys still talk to me Because i dont know what i would do Sometimes its just fucking hard to not Just reach For my bottle of pills sometimes And sometimes i rationalize everything And think Hey youre a real inconvenience to the people around you Kill yourself But i havent And im happy that i havent And i dont know what i would do If i dont make you guys happy Youre my reason for living And im sorry aki I know you wont see this But youve seen me through my shittiest times And i still do shitty things but i love you And youre the best Youve done so much for me You always hold me and reassure me And i wont drop that thun thun thun And i just want you to be happy And all you ever do is worry about me And ive let youdown so many times And im so glad you still like me at all I love you gurl Im even sorry tonyou Like i still fucking never want tonsee you But im still sorry And im sorry i make u feel awkward And feel unwanted And have to hang ilout with other people besides the group Cuz i know how muh u like everyone Im a realshithead to you But i still cant And im still sorry And its more like i wantt to kill myaelf so you can have your life back Ornjust aomething I think my death would really connivence you Honestly i make your life a whole lot harder But i still cant Istill cant fuckig stnand beinf around you I cant beleive you got fuxking sad about fine fine line Cuz really? Thats what yiu made me feel So fuxk u Really Im sorry that i hurt your feelings in the padt But uxknyou You hurt me sommich without intendintinf to And incant deal wih that You fucking suck Gosgd Even though i fuxjinf say that Im sill sorry Becayse you dont really need that shit in yo life And yeah I hope you find your actual love an dont break up with them ovrr a phone call that is not fucking classy And i hope youre happy ans i hope everything goes well for yiu Im really happy tht you still smile And i hipe your mom treats you better Abd maybe we could be friends again someday But probably not And iim okay wth that bexause ice accepted the fact that Our time has past And im Glad that yiu chose me to spend time with Even if it Was short lived And very hate filled at the end I still want you to be happy Contrary how i feel and say tompeople Youre a great peroson Person always will be And you deserve happiness And all that cheesy shit But before k actualy knowxk ohf i wabna say I love you guys all and And reall i have been feelig bettet An d its thanks to your understanding And love And everything Goodnight Thank you.

[masterhaythamkenway]

It Came to Me in a Dream (Hayline fanfic)

Haytham paced around his office, his mind was preoccupied with the ongoing mission that his men had undertaken. He knew that it was a simple enough mission, infiltrate the den and retrieve the map that pinpointed the location of all the Templar manors, and gathering places, burn the rest. It had come to his attention that the den would be unoccupied this day in particular, the Assassins preoccupied with other work elsewhere.  They should have encountered little to no resistance, however it was taking them far too long to return which highly unsettled him.

But finally the knock in door came, “Come in,” he called. Charles walked through the door and looked apologetically at his Grand Master.

“My apologies sir, it took far longer than we expected.” He said bowing his head and closing the door behind him.

 “I’m aware of that, what did happen?” Haytham asked furrowing his brows and offering Charles a chair to sit.

Sitting across from Charles, Haytham waited patiently for his friend to report the happenings of the mission.

“We expected very little resistance, however someone who appeared to be the master of the den was there, we were forced to fight, I’m proud to say that we did not lose any lives, although Hickey was injured, sir.” Charles said seemingly as an afterthought, he did not sound in the slightest sorry for the injury that Thomas had sustained. “We killed an Assassin and took the other two into custody to be questioned, including the one we think might be the den master.” He said proudly.

Haytham’s heart sank, their raid could have not possibly been near any of the dens that Aveline was affiliated with, there simply was no way that he would have overlooked such an important fact. Although if it bothered him he did not let it show. He nodded at Charles like he understood what this meant, and in fact he did, he would have to torture the Assassins caught and try and get as much information as he could out of them before killing them, so he stood followed by Charles and walked out the door. Charles kept explaining what a great feat and accomplishment this had been, how wonderful it was to have caught these two assassins and many other tales of his bravery and cunning during the mission, this however Haytham paid no mind to, his mind was once again elsewhere, hoping to whatever higher being out there that one the Assassins caught was not Aveline.

He walked into the first cell and tried his best to discern who the Assassin was; one of the Templars there was obviously cleaning what appeared to be a knife he had implemented in the torture process. Haytham’s heart was in his throat while he walked up to the Assassin, and breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he wore the Creed’s grey robes, a novice. A young man in fact, it almost pained Haytham when he lifted his head to meet his eyes by the hair.

“Now, do tell, where are the other maps?” He asked him calmly, but the man refused to answer.

 Haytham nodded to one of his henchmen who was quick to slap the boy across the lap with a metal rod. He screamed in pain and Haytham repeated the question once again.

“I know nothing!” He claimed in a pained scream.

This time the henchman carelessly removed one of the man’s nails, his scream filled the room with anguish and although he took no pleasure from what was going on Haytham did not even flinch. He asked the question once more, hands held behind his back.

“I swear, I know nothing!” The man said between sobs, “but the other…. The one who was caught with me, they know!”

Haytham shook his head as another one of the man’s nails was ripped from his fingers, and this continued for quite some time, for every time he claimed to know nothing a nail was ripped, when there were no more nails to rip, a finger was unceremoniously broken with the butt of a sword.

“I-I swear…” He moaned and cried. “I know nothing.” He was a slobbering mess of tears and blood now. “The other…. The other knows.”

When he was certain that this man in fact held no valuable information to him, Haytham grabbed his pistol from his side and shot the man in the head, the shot had not stopped ringing through the room before Haytham was already out, followed by Charles. At this point he was annoyed, he had gained no information and had wasted precious time, by now the maps would have been reproduced and distributed among the other dens, if they had not gotten them all. He walked with purpose to the room adjacent to the one before, and opened the door almost in a fury, only to be stopped dead in his tracks, the person slumped over the chair, the bruised bloodied mess, the matted black hair, and the golden eyes that met his for a split second, he could recognize anywhere.

  Aveline.

  His world seemed to fall from under him, but he managed to seem unscathed. She was tied to the chair, there were several bruises on her face from when she had been hit, not doubt, when her silver tongue lashed out. One of the Templars is heating a metal rod until it is red hot, and there are several burn marks on her thighs and arms from the wounds inflicted to get her to speak. She had cuts, though not deep, in several parts of her body, and the plea on her eyes as they met his was not lost to Haytham. Her lips were pressed tightly, which informed him she had not given any information and she stared intently at the floor.

Haytham can feel Charles breathing behind him, wondering what was taking his Grandmaster so long to ask the questions. So he forced himself to walk up to her, hands behind his back pressed tightly together to keep them from shaking and asked the same question he had asked the novice.

“You might be more inclined to help us than your friend….” He mused in a steady voice that surprised even him. “Do tell, where are the other maps?”

Aveline said nothing, and as though in slow motion he saw the rod come in contact with her skin, heard her screams of pain and bit the inside of his cheek, if he were to act in her favor, they would both be compromised and killed, something he could not risk, as long as she was alive he could try to help. But dead… that was a thought he did not dare to humor. The room was permeated with the pungent smell of burned flesh and blood and he tried his best to not let the pain that was ripping him apart show in his face or in his voice.

He paced the room, looking everywhere but at Aveline, and when he did have to he focused his eyes just above her head unable to stomach the state that she was in. He repeated the questions a few more times, every time she kept her silence, and time after time the hot rod was applied to her skin. Her screams tearing through the room made him want to tear every single one of her attackers into pieces, he wanted to tear his own eyes out so that he may not see this, he wanted to tear his ears so that he could not hear this, but remained impassive, almost bored on the outside.

Finally after he had asked the same question about a dozen times to no avail he sighed in what he hoped to be a melodramatic boring tone.

“Dress her wounds, she obviously knows something she isn’t telling us, we gain nothing from this, soon she will pass out from the pain.” He instructed his men and turned his back on her, heading for the door. “We best try this tomorrow.”

Haytham walked the path back to his room, bidding Charles a goodnight before retiring to his chambers. Where he paced, for hours, concocting a plan that would help Aveline escape from the grasp of the Templars. But nothing that would not incriminate him came to mind. So he paced for hours, until he was sure that everyone was asleep. He hurried down the corridor towards her cell, and withdrawing the key from his pocket he opened the door silently, hoping that no one would awaken to find him in there.

Aveline had been asleep when he walked in, and woke with a start as her acute senses heard the door close almost silently, she stared at him wild eyed, like he was an attacker there to rape her, or worse kill her, he brought his lamp closer to his face and put his finger to his lips to let her know that they should be quiet, then he hurried to her side. Setting the lamp on the floor, he undid her ropes carefully so that it would not look like they had been tampered with. Then facing her he touched her face gingerly, an apology already forming upon his lips. She silenced him with a single kiss, and he felt the tears running down her face. Haytham swallowed through a knot in his throat and pulled away from her, his eyes searching her body, the knot growing bigger as he assessed the damaged she had taken, at the hand of his own men. He withdrew a loaf of bread and a flask of water from his coat and smiled apologetically at her.

“I’m afraid that if I tried to sneak supper down here they would know something amiss…” He whispered as he broke the bread into pieces before handing them for her to eat.

 Aveline smirked, but ate greedily and drank water often. They sat there for a while, her eating silently the bite sized pieces Haytham was offering her, giving her the whole loaf to eat would have been painful, and her fingers were badly bruised, the only thing he could do for her now was break the bread into edible sizes for her, and provide her with plenty of water.

 “What will we do?” She asked, staring at a piece of bread that she had yet to bring to her mouth.

“I do not know…” Haytham said, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Perhaps… if I open the door… if I leave it unlocked…?”

“You have the only key… correct?” she asked him and he nodded. “That simply won’t do… They’ll know it was you.”

“I’ll leave the ropes badly tied when I part from here tonight, I’ll undo the hinges from the doors, they are not reliable to begin with.” He said, his eyes serious as he spoke. “You may run at first sunlight. No one shall be awake but me, when I come down for your interrogation and find the door unhinged, it will be assumed a fellow Assassin rescued you. I wish I could call for Connor to assist….”

“But as Grandmaster… you shouldn’t even speak of him.” She said nodding, understanding that his hands were tied.

“Make a run for it, you will find the stairs, they will lead you to the parlor, from there take a right through the servants hall and keep running until you see the green door at the end of the corridor. That will lead to the stables, take any horse you’d like, and get away.” He said, he emphasized his words by staring directly into her eyes, his plea evident now, he wanted her out and he wanted her safe.

Haytham stood and dusted his trousers, the leaned to kiss her forehead. A single tear fell upon her head before he quickly and sloppily tied the ropes that held her in place once more. He checked them to make sure she could effectively get out of them with minimal effort. Then used a small knife to unhinge the door. Before he left he looked back at her and smiled.

“I shall leave a satchel with food and water by the stables, they will assume it is mine and that you simply stole it on your haste to escape… Be safe Aveline…. I love you.” Haytham whispered, he then closed the door behind him carefully and hurried to make preparations for her food.

After placing the satchel by the stables he hurried back inside and into his own chambers and waited. He was used to sleepless nights, however this one dragged on eternally, and just as day break hit, he sat on the floor by his door to strain his hearing, to see if she would make it out safely. If everything went according to plan she should be out of there within fifteen minutes. He heard the door click close and almost sighed with relief if it were not for the footsteps he heard pass his own doorstep. He opened the door just in time to see Aveline turn right, as they had planned, however instead of meeting an empty servant’s hall he was greeted by a baffled Charles. Who had awoken early in order to question her, in hopes of breaking her for the time when Haytham arrived at the interrogation. Although baffled Charles was quick, and withdrew his knife, sinking it deep into Aveline’s side, before Haytham could even utter a word, a command anything to make Charles stop. He saw Aveline look in his direction as he hurried down the steps to stop Charles from killing her, but he was too late. Charles’ knife was upon her throat, and Haytham had just 3 more steps to go when it was sliced open in front of him. Aveline’s blood now soaked Charles’ clothes and had stained his own.

Of what happened next he did not remember much. He did remember writing many letters, giving many explanations and the funerals.

The Assassin had escaped, how? They were not sure. Charles had fought bravely, but the Assassin had bested him. Haytham had gotten there in time to see her slice Charles’ neck open and in a feat that would have surprised anybody, Haytham managed to slice her neck after a very once sided brutal battle.

Charles’ funeral was first, a very somber affair, a very quiet and secluded tomb.

Aveline’s was preformed privately. The only one present was Haytham himself, who had stolen her body after it had been unceremoniously dumped for the wolves to eat. He cleaned and dressed her, and bought her a casket lined with silk, made out of the best wood he could find, and after she had been buried, and the last words were said Haytham stood, crying over a mound of dirt. Inconsolably sobbing for the woman he loved and could not save. 

[jakeperolta-blog1]

Please don't tag your hate don't you realise how rude and inconsiderate it is gosh what if your otp sunk and we tagged that 'OH THE DUMBEST SHIP FINALLY SUNK!!1!! HAW HAW HAW' sorry that was over exaggerated but still gosh think of the shippers you inconsiderate prick.