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reality-exodus · 1 year

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The Abduction

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader (established relationship)

Warnings:angst hurt blood bullet wound

Summary: reader gets shot trying to escape the situation, will they be taken care of on time

We had been called in a riot, police escort and all the crazy things that happened in state prisons. We had a fire to put out either way, I hadn't had the chance to speak with Eddie after last night's argument. I have to admit, storming out of the house during night wasn't the nicest reaction but it was better than saying things upon fury. When we arrived at the station, dispatch immediately got us to the prison incident.

We arrived and police were all around us, I could feel Eddie's eyes closing on me making sure I was nearby. We were moving out as we noticed the two inmates that were barely alive, Eddie and Buck got one of them aiding him out to our ambulance while we waited for more police escort.

"What if he codes?"I asked Captain Nash who sighed heavily.

"Alright Y/L/N approaching Diaz and Buckley" he informed the systems as I jogged towards their route.

"Approaching them now" I filled in as I arrived and started walking next to Buck.

"Hey there" he greeted with a smile, he could sense the electrified atmosphere between me and Eddie, therefore he knew it wasn't the moment to talk or ask about it.

"Officer why don't we move forward, prepare the ambulance we shouldn't be exposed to the yard" I suggested and snuck my hand on Buck's pocket I was moving, I wouldn't give them space to argue with me. He did follow. I heard Eddie's exhale and I shook my head as I was jogging to the exit.

"You seem like you know our job" the escorting guard commented as I opened the ambulance and got the bed out.

"It's true, I was in the police academy but then being a paramedic won me over." I explained and prepared the bed as the rest exited as well, I lowered the bed so the inmate would be laid quicker. I got in the back of the ambulance and so did Eddie and one guard as the other and Buck went on the front. The siren was heard.

"Eddie, give me the IV" I requested as the supply was closer to him,I started cleaning the spot not really realizing what was going on, I plugged the small tube of the fluid bag to the needle and then carefully placed it on his arm as the siren stopped. There was silence no one said a thing, I would break the silence as my fianceè was in a mood to start a conversation.

"What the hell?" Eddie murmured the moment I stood up to hook the IV,I turned my head abruptly as I noticed the abrupt movement of the prison guard that was holding a gun pointing at me. Eddie held my wrist the moment I was frozen standing and pulled me to sit down again next to him. He didn't let go, I slid my hand to hold his too.

My throat went dry, my gaze spectated Eddie, he was staring at the guy angered, his expression was solid and tremendously decisive as if he was scheming a plan… I had my own plan though as well. I breathed out, not realizing I was holding my breath, it came out like a sob.

"It's going to be alright"Eddie assured me, we were close to each other so close he was putting his body forward so I was behind him just in case. I didn't resist, I simply held his hand tightly, he could feel me shaking.

"We can't thank you enough, I was waiting to get out of there 18 years ago." He sighed heavily and smiled at us, the vehicle was slowly stopping. "Now how about we get out of here for a while." He winked at us, signing us with the gun.

I stood up and opened the doors slowly, Eddie was close behind me. I took a step and tripped, in my attempt to stop the fall I grabbed a drawer making it fall along with its interior to the ground. Before I fell Eddie wrapped his arm around my waist pulling to my feet. As he did I managed to snatch two sedative injections.

Once I was down Eddie followed suit, he came close to me, as on my other side there was Buck, he was angry too, but in a way that he was to do something stupid. "Check them" the one that was on the back ordered and the other one started patting Eddie's suit then it was my turn, his eyes fixed on me as foreign hands patted my body over the suit.

"That's enough" he spoke and the guy laughed a bit and moved to Buck as I managed to cover the injections.

"What do we do" Buck asked lowly and I swallowed

"There are two of them and two of us" Eddie spoke and I shook my head

"And then there's me, with two sedatives on my sleeve, so I need a distraction" I announced and looked at Eddie slightly.

"The fall as you got out" he realized with a heavy sigh

They ripped our wirelesses and took our phones and wallets. One was holding Eddie. He took a photo of Christopher out "Cute Kid" he noticed "Yours?". He overstepped, Eddie's behavior changed, softened I could feel the fear he felt for his son. "I guess he lives with you at 4995 South Be-" he was to say the address but Buck interrupted him with a punch landed on his face.

This was my distraction.

The other guy fought Buck with a punch as I moved to the other one to inject him before I could, there was a shot heard, I turned my face immediately to Buck who was next to me and then Eddie only to see fear flooding both of their faces. Seconds later I felt the same fear as I felt the bullet enter and exit my shoulder, I fell with a sob as Eddie raced stumbling next to me as if guns weren't there, he held me close to him, I was breathing sharply already red in tears, he leaned me on his chest applying pressure with his fireproof coat, he removed mine too.

Buck soon approached and took my wrist."strong pulse." He informed Eddie who was letting go of my wound.

"It's an in and out. Only shoulder." Eddie spoke, I calmed down, my head upon his heartbeat, assisted me to control my breaths and calm down, it made me feel safe.

"I assume that now we are on the same page" one of them said.

I was only waiting for what would come now… I didn't move an inch from where I was hidden "Get in" he ordered us.

Eddie had me standing. "Are you alright?" He asked as he wrapped the coat carefully so then pressure would be applied.

I nodded "don't worry I am hanging" I assure him, I walked on my own to the vehicle behind me then boys. "He is in cardiac arrest" I realized as the patient had no pulse and was choking in his own blood.

"Then save him" he spoke

"She c pman't" Eddie pointed out as he and Buck started the attempts to regain his pulse.

"Don't worry, when will be just fine she is a paramedic, and besides that if she dies you two will die." He announced and my blood went cold.

"He is right, you revive him and I will take care of myself" I smiled reassuringly. "I am just getting the patches to stop the bleeding of my wound," I said.

"No, I have it stable with my coat Y/N… remove it and it may get worse" Eddie remarked. "You have to rest so your pressure falls enough and the blood you lose is preserved " he suggested and I nodded, laying back I was speaking advising them on how to behave with the patient.

Soon we arrived at the hospital, it was dark outside and I was starting to slip in and out of consciousness. Everything I heard was blurry. I woke up from Eddie and Buck shouts.

"Okay he ought to go to the hospital with Buck but Y/N needs to follow along." Eddie exclaimed "She is bleeding out" his voice sounded scared.

"Her life it's not in my hands, and in case you haven't noticed I am holding the gun, so now do as I say before I quicken the bleed out" he sighed and Buck slowly got off the ambulance with the other guard.

Eddie approached me "Hey Y/N" He sighed softly and pulled me to the space on the floor so I would lay down "how are you feeling?" He asked me as he processed one IV on my hand, I flinched with a sob.

"I am alright" I breathed, barely making my voice audible "just dizzy" I spoke and smiled weakly.

"You said her life is not in your hands… what do you want to let us go" Eddie yelled slightly.

"My son is on life support, waiting for a heart transplant, but you see his priority spot is not so high up…" he explained "I am available and compatible… but I also am a convict… so I cannot donate." He explained and lowered his gaze to me.

I could hear him, he looked at me with a slight sigh. My breathing was shallow as I was laying on Eddie's arms. "You can't stay here forever, they will make a move eventually and both of them will die…" Eddie spoke for some reason and it seemed to work. "If we go out and you turn yourself in, I have a friend, Taylor Kelly. She will let people know of the situation and the transplant will be found," he suggested.

"We will do our best too, if we know your son's blood type" I spoke my voice came out hoarse, I coughed turning on my side, if I passed out I should be on the right position, Eddie helped me his hand str

Oking my head, untangling then braids I had to let me looser, he kissed my temple before looking back up.

"Alright… we are going out…" he finally announced. "Secure her to last for a few more minutes and let's go out. You care moving first" he ordered Eddie.

Eddie placed me on the floor of the vehicle and kissed my head, I brought my exhausted glare to meet his gaze, reassuring still. "It's going to be alright, see you in a few minutes" he assured me gently stroking my head, I smiled raising my head to kiss his lips, he responded by cupping my face softly. "Hang on for me" he spoke and moved to the door, I heard him exhale loudly. The door was clicked open.

He spoke loudly to the cops in order to be heard, his tone remained calm, soon the ambulance shook slightly as our captor got out,seconds later I heard a shot, I gasped trying to move but I could barely speak, I felt my heart race. I wasn't able to keep my eyes open, I knew Eddie was alive… I heard him right before everything went black.

"Tell them to prepare an O.R… Then get in the ambulance, Y/N is still in there in need of blood… please"

"Y/N" Buck yelled, getting in.

"How bad is it?" Eddie asked

"Pulse barely exists, I am moving her out, I got it." I heard Buck as he placed his one hand underneath my knees and his other over my waist, he supported my head on his shoulder, I could sense the shift of my body and the alterations of the environment, everything seemed in a far dream… a bad dream.

I shot up feeling a stretching ache on my shoulder and hand, the IV and the stitches… I was in the hospital, I looked around, I took a look at the screens that monitored my heart, I realized I was panicking… there was no need… I was safe… that's what the hospital meant. I pressed an emergency button soon the nurse came and checked on me, she highlighted the fact that it was amazing how quickly I responded to the blood transfusions, they calculated I'd be out until dawn.

"Are you up for any visitors?" She asked and I nodded with a smile.

Soon the room flooded with people. Eddie came by my side with a sigh and kissed my cheek. He was carefully hugging me. "Is the kid safe?" I asked him softly and he nodded and signed me to look at the people that entered the room.

"How are you doing?" Bobby asked me as he moved in with his wife.

"I am alright." I assured them, Buck approached me and Eddie hugging us both carefully with a heavy sigh.

"You two gave me quite the scare" he sighed and slapped slight hate back of Eddie's neck and ruffled my hair.

"Sorry, we had work to do" Eddie chuckled at his best friend and kissed my cheek.

We talked and laughed, and ate. They were my family, so important to me… and to Eddie. He was sitting next to me on my bed as I started dozing off, they begun to flee my room, Eddie kissed my lips and cheek but I felt exhausted, he sat on the chair next to me holding ,my hand, I could feel his fingers stroking my wrist, subconsciously feeling the pulsation in my veins that it is still there.

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fiapartridge · 1 year

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late night talking | jack hughes

summary: jack’s having a terrible day and decides to call you late at night…

warning(s): swearing

kinda not in love with this one but what can ya do!

Jack hated calling when it was late at night because he knew you'd answer every single time— even if it meant sacrificing precious hours of sleep and living like a sleep-deprived zombie by the time the sun comes up.

But tonight, he just couldn't resist it.

His day was absolutely terrible. It all started with waking up an hour later than his alarm was set, then missing breakfast with the team because he couldn't find his tan T-shirt anywhere which resulted in him tearing apart his entire hotel room searching for the missing piece of clothing that was simply rolled up at the bottom of his suitcase, then getting a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his new AF1s on his way to the arena, and as the stupid cherry on top, the Devils lost their last road game of the—almost clean sweep—West Coast roadie to the fucking Seattle Kraken.

And he knew you were tired. You spent all day texting him about all of the essays and projects your professors were assigning you. You were awake until 2AM (New Jersey time), hacking away at all of the assignments. You couldn't wait to go to sleep.

You finally put your writing utensils away and stored your laptop in the drawer of your desk where it would be waiting to be opened tomorrow for more work. Your hair was in a messy bun and your pajamas were strapped against your body. You were so ready for bed. You pulled back the covers and shimmied yourself in, careful not to move the pink blanket resting at the foot of the bed.

Skimming through your emails one last time, making sure there wasn't any last-minute work assigned by your professors, you turned off your phone and placed it on the bedside table. Your arm stretched a little farther to click the button on your lamp, but when you saw Jack's caller ID and the photo of him giving you a piggy-back around the Prudential Center, all systems were on high alert.

You sat back up, pulling the phone to your ear. You were terrified. You knew Jack hated calling you late at night— even though you told him loads of times that you didn't mind. So if he was calling you now, knowing it was 2AM where you were, he must've really needed something.

The line was silent when you answered. Nothing else other than a faint static could be heard between the two of you.

"Jack?" you called. "Are you okay?"

You could hear his breathing. It wasn't calm, but it wasn't rapidly fast either. It sounded like a boy with something on his mind.

"Hey, Y/N/N," he said. He was so quiet, it felt like you had to lean into the phone to hear him better.

"It's eleven in Seattle. Why aren't you asleep?" you asked.

"I wanted to, I just," he paused. Static. Calmer breaths. "I just missed you so fucking much, Y/N."

"I miss you, too, but it's only two more days. I'll see you on Sunday. What's going on?"

You couldn't see him, but his head was shaking back and forth on the other side of the line and he was rubbing his forehead like a middle-aged man after seeing his kids scribbling all over the walls. He was stressed and tired and all he wanted was to come home and see you, to sleep in your bed tonight, and to be with you.

"My day was just... terrible. It was unbelievably terrible. It was like one bad thing would happen and then ten minutes later, another bad thing happened. It was like God was just shitting over my entire day. So much fucking shit."

You laughed softly, a slight yawn mixed in between. "I don't think God was resting at the toilet, shitting all over your day, but it sounds like it was pretty bad. What happened?"

He sighed. "No, I should let you go to sleep. It's what? Two o'clock over there?"

"You called, and I answered. Tell me."

He took a moment, like he was actually debating whether to tell you or not. He knew you would go to extreme lengths to get it out of him, and he didn't want to tire you out even more. "We lost."

That was all he said.

Two words.

We lost.

You were confused to say the least. You knew he lost. You kept up with every single one of his games. They won every single road game before that: the Hurricanes, the Ducks, the Kings, the Sharks. So what, they lost to the Kraken? It's not like they won't have another chance to win again on Sunday against the Penguins, or Tuesday against the Golden Knights. There were so many more games to play. What was the big deal?

"Okay... is that it?" you asked. You dipped your toe in, scared that he might blow up and tell you something dramatic like 'it's more than a game, it's my life.'

But the line went quiet again. Nothing more than a bit of static and breathing. But then he talked and you wanted to do nothing more than book a flight out to Seattle and run to him with your arms out. You wanted to be there for Jack— you always did.

He sighed. "It's just— we were losing for so long and when we were winning again, it felt so good, like we were finally back. Like we were a team again. But then we lost and, I don't know, it felt as if we were back on that losing streak, like it was yesterday. Like none of the road games even happened. We were just�� losers again."

You rolled your eyes, and laughed. Yes, you laughed. Jack was confused, too. He wondered why you were laughing. He just poured out his entire thought process, all of his feelings, and you were laughing. Why were you laughing?

He frowned. "It's not funny, Y/N/N."

"I know, I know," you wiped your eyes. You didn't know if you were tearing up because you were deliriously tired or you were just laughing too hard. "It's just— you lost in overtime. You were close. It wasn't an 8 - 1 loss, or a complete shutout. You almost won, Jack. It was one goal that separated you and the other team. So what, you lost one game? This one game won't cost you your chances at playoffs and it won't make me love you any less. No one thinks that you are a loser. I'd rather be with you than a guy that's won every single one of his games. I love you, Jack. Win or lose, it's always you."

"So you don't want to be with Pastrnak?"

You rolled your eyes and giggled. "Not into beards."

He laughed. "Really? Because I think I'm starting to grow something here, Y/N/N."

You scoffed. "In your wildest dreams, Hughes."

"Speaking of dreams, I should probably let you get back to that."

"Alright, just— know that I love you, okay? Win or lose; I'm always gonna come home to you, and I'm always gonna love you."

You could hear the sound of a light switch on the other side of the line. Jack was getting ready for bed, too. He crawled underneath the covers, knowing his teammates were probably out getting drunk somewhere at a bar nearby. But he didn't care about grabbing a beer and throwing all of his feelings into Taylor Swift karaoke with Nico Hischier (that was more of a 'you and Nico' thing). All he wanted was to hear your voice, to tell you goodnight, that he loves you, and that he'll call you again when the sun comes up.

Because to him, you were worth more than a lifetime of wins.

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes fic #hockey fanfiction #nj devils imagine #jack hughes one shot

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lorifragolina · 2 months

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Pretzel

Steve Harrington runs an animal shelter with his friend and fellow veterinary Robin.

They have a joke between them: they often have to take in poor unfortunate abandoned pets, and they used to name them after the last thing Steve ate. All started years ago, when Robin came in with a rescued parrot and asked Steve how they should name it, who distractedly answered “Montecristo,” pointing at the half sandwich on his desk. Montecristo has been the shelter mascot since then and Robin, after laughing out loud for a good minute, declared the tradition set up.

He finds a carton box this day on the clinic door, and there are Pretzel, Brownie and Caesar (salad), Steve’s lunch he just ate in the cafeteria at the corner. They are so tiny they can easily rest in Steve’s hands, they have to be bottle fed every four hours for some day until they can eat alone, and the red Pretzel is the real incarnation of the very Satan.

This fluffy demon is able to eat the entire prescription book on Robin’s desk, he learned how to open his cage at night and he plots new pranks everyday, bribing his sibling with the delicious treats Steve hides in his drawers.

The kitty is on a shelf, adjusting his bottom to the distance, and then…

“Robin! The demon jumped on my head! Come and catch him!”

Robin runs in the room, laughing out loud. She takes the furious, hissing kitty and returns him in the cage, locking it with the complicated system of chains, sticks and duct tape they invented to keep him in.

“It’s funny, he seems to attack only you,” Robin laughed, checking the scratches on Steve’s neck.

“He hated me. I bottle fed him and he hates me,” whimpers Steve.

“Welcome to parenting,” Robin laughed again, disinfecting him.

A few days later, Pretzel is missing.

“Where is the little demon? The cage is closed!” Rambled Robin, inspected the shelf.

The little demon has been secretly and patiently breaking the bottom of the cage, ripping the wood and the plastic until he can fit in the hole and disappear.

“He can be everywhere! We left the door open when we cleaned before!” Robin was worried and angry with herself, they need to have a thousand eyes with all these little rascals inside…

They turn everything but the cat isn’t there. Steve walked a hundred times the street back and forth, calling him, but without success. He asked their neighboring shops if they saw a little ginger cat that probably would try to kill them if they tried to catch him.

The only one he can’t advise is the mechanic shop three doors down at the other side of the street.

Steve has already seen the blonde, handsome mechanic, most of the time covered in car grease and a stupid sexy overall he leaves open on his chest, but he has neves spoken to him. He just stared at him most of the time, and at this moment the shop seems closed.

Steve and Robin wait and search all day for little Pretzel, but at a certain moment Robin has to clock out and go home, Steve stays for some paperworks.

An instant before, the bells on the door ring and Steve snorts.

“Robin, what did you forget this time?”

“I’m not Robin and maybe I have something you want back”.

Steve raises his eyes and remains mouth wide open for a while.

The blonde, hot mechanic he likes to stare at is here in front of him, only this time he is perfectly cleaned and combed and his hair isn't covered in dark oil. Steve can smell the colony from his desk.

The mechanic opens his jacket and shows a little ball of red fur, sleeping and purring against his chest. Steve has never seen Pretzel sleeping so peacefully and surely he has never heard him purring.

The blonde man raises the cat to his face and rubs his face to the content kitty (when Steve tried to do it, he almost lost an eye), and the kitty seems to really smile at the blonde while mocking Steve with the corner of his eye.

“Hey princess!” Call the mechanic again. “Is he the kitty you were searching for? Mary from the cafe said something”.

Steve blinks and shakes, then nods.

“Yes, of course, he is! Thank you!”

“What’s his name?”

“Well, he is Pretzel…”

“Oh, really? I really, really love pretzels…” answered the mechanic, rubbing the cat more to him. “Is the little Pretzel available for adoption?”

Steve is fascinated by the hot man playing with the kitty, but he has to shake his head.

“Not now, Pretzel has a condition we need to treat. But when he will be ok, we can consider your offer”, he says, raising his hands to take the animal. He has to get near the mechanic, inside his personal space, and blushes and shivers when they touch each other.

“Well, can I contribute to his treatments?” Insists the blonde.

“Well, it’s all covered really…”

“At least can I buy you a drink? I’m Billy, by the way”.

Steve puts Pretzel down in another cage, really hoping he could stay there for at least a night. He turns his back to Billy so he can’t see him blushing furiously.

“Well, okay…” he whispered, shivering a little and excited.

The drink rapidly becomes a sandwich and an ice cream, and a ride on Billy's vintage Camaro.

“Do you like it?” Says Billy. “I can take you for a ride, if you want”.

The next morning, Robin finds Steve already at his desk in the early morning.

“Steve? Are you here so early? You look tired! Did you find Pretzel?”

Steve nodded.

“Steve? Are you wearing the same clothes of yesterday?”

“Oh, don’t be silly, Robin!”

The doorbell rings and Robin goes to speak with a man with a carton box. She returned putting the box with a mallard duck on the desk.

“Look what people throw away nowadays… Well, Steve, did you have breakfast?”

Steve blushes and shakes his head slowly, lowering his eyes.

Robin is puzzled. “Well, we have to name that little one, what is the last thing you ate?”

Steve blushed even more, sinking in his chair.

“Billy. Her name is Billy”.

#stranger things #writing #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #veterinary #kitty cat #red cat #mechanic Billy

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bucknastysbabe · 4 months

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I can have an aegon ii crying and whining (love to see that man cry) because he knows you're going to break up with him....

I hope this is alright, thanks for the request. Xoxo

Rating: Mature

Tags: TW//Alcohol abuse, addiction, verbal and emotional abuse, alcoholic/addict Aegon, codependency, description of DTs, break-up, man tears, modern!au, sorry I projected my alcoholism on this, man tears whiny pathetic babykins

A/N: Sorry Anon if I took some liberties, I felt this as a good reason for him to be crybaby. Alcoholic projection gets me ass sometimes

“No-nononono!,” Aegon cried from behind you.

You poured the last of his bottle out of the sink. The fucker had hidden the booze in your boots. Your boots. After boldly claiming he was sober, clean, and going to meetings. Alas, here you were again, Aegon whining and begging once again. Cycle of insanity as that blue book he owned said. Fat tears leaked from his wide orbs, lips trembling, face blotchy and red.

“You lied to me!,” you barked.

He tugged at his hair, big violet eyes fixated on that precious liquid going down the drain. Aegon whimpered, “Stop. Stop it! I’m sorry, I- I- I won’t do it anymore! I hid it for an emergency!” He sobbed as you placed the now empty bottle onto the counter.

This was on and off for what felt like the entirety of the relationship. It was fun at first— party Prince Aegon Targaryen. You two would go all night. You began to grow tired of the non-stop celebration. He’d keep going, snorting in the bathroom, taking something to sleep, leaving to hang out with the ‘bros’. Always had a reason to have something in his system.

You didn’t know if he had ever cheated. It felt he cheated on you with the bottle— ‘his baby’ he so fondly referred to alcohol one time. He had to take an extra semester only to land on academic probation. You graduated and got a job, got a place with Aegon. Upon moving in you expressed your feelings about his habits, the blonde apologizing and swearing he’d be on the straight and narrow.

Your stupid simple heart thought he would change, the little oath he made would settle Aeg some. He did at first, snuggling down for movies, grandiose gifts, and dinner for two with one cup of wine. Looking back on Aegon’s behavior he was too settled— a little hazy, forgetful, coming in and out of the world. Checking his bedside drawer that night explained the situation. Bars upon bars of Xanax in a bag. Something to quell the annoyance of being a real boyfriend.

That was a big fight. You ‘broke up’ with him on the spot. Aegon immediately burst into sobs, crying and promising to do better. No more pills. You believed him, again, the fucker even charmed you back into bed. ‘Making love’, holding hands as he filled you up, promising and apologizing. Sorry sorry sorry.

It’s about all he could muster anymore with you. Sorry.

You swallowed a sob and warbled, “You keep saying you’re going to change Aegon! It never happens! Here were are again, finding your little lies all over the place. You need help! Sorry doesn’t change shit baby. I’m done, I’m done with this. Do you even think about my feelings?”

He whined in distress, walking over and dropping to his knees. You let your sick baby cry into your stomach, arms wrapped tight around you. Sighing heavily you pet his white hair, nose wrinkling at the booze coming off his skin, the sink, everywhere.

He looked up with reddened eyes, pretty lips trembling as he begged, “You’ve got to help me, please, I can’t stop. I don’t want to lose you. Don’t leave me alone, I-I’m scared.” Every part of your body wanted to believe him. The trust had been long shattered like the bottle he threw at the wall one time— smashing it in a drunken rage.

“Why can’t you just piss off and let me do my thing? Fucking ball and chain!”

Aegon whined your name some more, gripping harder. He whimpered, “You won’t leave me right? Right my love?” You looked away and wiped a tear. He clung harder, sobbing, “No, please love, puh-please, no.” Wrenching free from the grip you shook your head. He tried to grab again, you stepping backward with a hand up.

“No Aegon. You need to seek help. For yourself, not me. I’m done. You’ve hurt me enough,” softening your tone you added, “Baby, you’re very very sick. You’ll die. Make a choice.”

He looked disgustingly sad and pathetic on his knees, hands wrenching at whatever was available. Aegon’s brow furrowed as he hissed, “So you’re like the rest— just leaving me.” You sighed in pity, running a hand over your brow. This was getting harder by the second, the damn man wearing you down to a nub.

“No Aegon. You made them leave. Pushed all of us away on your pursuit for, for, whatever you’re seeking inside.”

He warbled, “Don’t say that.”

“Just go look in the mirror. Call your mother.”

You stepped out of the wretched apartment, Aegon’s wailing filling your ears. ‘Don’t leave me!’ You’d break down later. It felt like a gaping wound settled in your chest. You idly wondered if Aegon felt like that— needing to fill the pocket with anything that didn’t make the blonde feel like himself.

Aegon stared in the mirror, puking after a short gaze. He hated what stared back at him. Hated everything really. Now he had nothing to suck on to take the pain away. No baby to coddle him, his baby, who he used and abused like everything else. Aegon sniffled and wiped his mouth. Leaning on the wall in front of the toilet he dialed his mother's number. Straight to voicemail.

“Hey Mom. I need help. Like, put me somewhere help.”

He frowned at how worn down and whiny his voice sounded. Whatever. What did he have left anyway? A future? Maybe. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling the inevitable shakes begin. There might be a hidden spot up in the fake fireplace. The prince would get it when he’d start shaking enough to lose the ability to walk.

#hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #modern!aegon targaryen #modern!au #read the tw and tags #aegon ii angst #aegon ii targaryen x reader #ask answered

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loveforcarmen · 3 months

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𝙒𝙃𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙏𝙀𝙀

- carmen berzatto has an unexpected visitor at his apartment late at night.

carmen berzatto x oc!coworker | • one shot

NOTE: im turning this into a series on here and my wattpad (@littlesadcowgirl)

- carmen opened the door to find sloppy eyed margaret, “maggie” as he called her, standing outside of his apartment.

“you lost?” he stood there with a blank expression on his face.

she sighed before answering, “i don’t have time for your sarcasm, carmen.” margaret rubbed her temples in an attempt to ward off an incoming migraine.

“where you coming from?” carmen asked, glancing at her outfit. margaret wore a small, black mini dress paired with a pair of red, heeled boots. he stood slightly annoyed as she took her time to answer.

“a party.” she motioned to her outfit, “was it not obvious?” she did a small twirl, but almost tripped due to the alcohol in her system.

“yeah, you’re right. it was obvious.” carmen agreed, not wanting to deal with a drunk woman right now.

margaret’s smile suddenly dropped before she spoke, “my friends ditched me.” she could feel herself getting upset and started to pick at her fingernail subconsciously.

there was a long pause between the 2 before carmen sighed, stepping to the side. margaret mouthed the words, “thank you”, as she walked in. carmen nodded his head, kicking the door closed with his foot.

margaret began to put her things on the coffee table in front of the couch, neatly arranging her bag and coat.

“you can sleep in my bed. i’ll take the couch.” he said, leaning against the counter.

“i couldn’t ask that of you.” her lip pointed downwards

“i offered, it’s no big deal.” carmen dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

he motioned for margaret to follow him down the hall and to the room. as she trailed behind him, she noticed that he absolutely no decor on his walls. no pictures, paintings, nothing.

“you can set your stuff down, i’ll get you a change of clothes for the night.” carmen pointed to the bed, as he walked to his dresser.

“yes chef.” margaret joked, but immediately wished she could swallow her words. why the hell would she say that?

carmen was glad his back was turned because her stupid comment almost got a genuine smile out of him.

he dug through his drawer and eventually settled on a pair of boxers and one of his many white t-shirts. he turned around and handed the clothes to margaret.

she raised an eyebrow, holding up the boxers. carmen gave a playful eye roll, “they’re clean.”

he pointed to the door on their right, “bathroom is over there. i’ll be making the bed so holler if you need something, ok?”

margaret nodded her head with a soft smile then turned on her heel to leave. carmen kept his eyes trained on her for even a second, then went back to his bed-making duties.

margaret changed quickly in the bathroom, folding her dress and neatly setting it to the side with her boots.

carmen knocked on the door with a sharp *rapp* of his knuckles. “yo, you good in there…” he paused waiting for her to answer.

she opened the door quickly, catching carmen off guard. “yep.” she said, smoothing the white tee down.

carmen felt a pit forming in his stomach at the sight of margaret in one of his beloved white tees. he cleared his throat to clear his feelings, “um the bed is made. i set your bag and coat to the side on the nightstand.”

“thanks carmen.” she replied, getting into bed immediately.

“yeah no problem..” he trailed off.

he scratched his head tousling his dirty blonde curls, “i’ll go get you a glass of water.” he excused himself and went to the kitchen.

he returned quickly with the glass of water, setting it down gently. margaret looked up at him, appreciating his kindness, which was not often shown especially in the kitchen.

“thank you carmen, truly.”

“don’t mention it.”

he rubbed the back of his neck before adding, “if you need to puke, please run to bathroom”

margaret let out a soft laugh, “got’cha.” she winked. carmen nodded his head then began to walk out of the room.

he turned around, walking back to the bedside. margaret looked over at him, confused. “roll over on your side.” he said.

“why?”

“i don’t need you to drown in your own puke, smartass.” he answered, helping her roll over on her side. “there ya go.” he situated the blanket so it was comfortable on her.

margaret gave him a thumbs up, looking at him through her half-lidded eyes. he returned the thumbs up, walking to the doorway of the bedroom.

“goodnight carmy.” margaret whispered.

carmen flicked the light off, “goodnight maggie.” he closed the door and went to prepare the couch for the night.

SOMETIME IN THE EARLY MORNING

carmen woke up to the usually brigade of bad dreams that plagued him every night. he got up to get himself a glass of water, making sure to walk quietly since margaret was sleeping just down the hall.

he filled his cup up, downing it and filling it up again. he set it down, then made his way to margaret’s room. he quietly opened the door, the hinges making a slight *creak*

margret stirred but did not wake up. he grabbed her glass then left the room to fill it up. as he waited for it to fill up, he ran his fingers through his curls out of habit. a stress habit. why was he stressed about her being here?

he faded back into reality at the sight of the glass overflowing, the water trickling into the sink. he groaned, shutting off the sink and drying his hand.

he grabbed the glass, then returned back to the bedroom. he gently set the glass down then looked at margaret once before he left.

her lips were slightly parted as she peacefully slept. she was still on her side. good girl, he thought. she clutched the blanket tightly with her fist, pulling it to her chest while in her sleep.

carmen turned to leave when he stubbed his toe on the nightstand, causing a picture frame to fall over that was resting on the nightstand.

“fuck.” he said under his breath, grabbing his foot and squeezing it.

“carmen?” margaret mumbled, slowly waking up.

carmen let out a strained “yeah” in response as he held his foot. margaret smiled at him, even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness of the room.

“what are you doing?” she asked, sitting up.

carmen let out a big sigh before answer, his toe still throbbing, “i was refilling your water.”

“oh, alright.” she gave a curt nod, still knowing he couldn’t really see her.

“yup.”

her nose stung as she began to speak, a sign that she was tearing up. “i just wanted to thank you again for just being nice to me tonight.” her glossy eyes flicked to carmen’s silhouette.

“hey hey, it’s fine. it’s really no big deal.” he reassured her quickly, “i don’t know why you’re getting emotional.”

“cause i’m drunk.” she said bluntly, throwing her hands up. she paused again before speaking, “you’re just so…” she paused again.

carmen hung onto her last words, waiting for what she had to say.

“just so…stern.” she said, laying back down. “i’m not used to seeing ‘nice carmen’ ever. even outside of the kitchen.” carmen heard her lay back down and took that as his que to leave.

“it��s my job to be stern. compare what i’ve done to what you’ve done. i don’t mean it in an insulting way but just an observation.” he tried to give a light chuckle to lighten up the mood but he instantly regretted his word choice as it came out of his mouth.

“wow.” margaret said quietly as she turned back to her side.

carmen wanted to opened his mouth to fix the damage he’d unintentionally caused but it stayed shut.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that, maggie.” he finally said as he quietly retreated from the room and back to the couch.

he huffed as he sat back down and readjusted the blanket. “why the fuck would you say that?” he scolded to himself.

NOTE: this is my first time writing so please let me know what you liked and where i need to improve!! thank you!

much love,

marlowe

#the bear #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #the bear fandom #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto headcanons #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto one shot #oneshot #the bear one shot #hulu #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy x fem!reader #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto one shot #carmy x nyc chef

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endlessburningdarkness · 2 months

Text

This is messy but I had to get it out of my system. Credit to @sun-and-moon-mushroom for the idea and link to the original prompt. Thanks for the brainworms!

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

Shen Yuan finishes stuffing the worst of his mess into drawers. The maid he's hired is due to arrive any minute but he's not so shameless that he won't try to clean a bit beforehand. Despite what his family thinks, Shen Yuan isn't completely useless.

The doorbell rings and he quickly checks his breath, fresh and minty still, because Shen Yuan did gargle with mouthwash earlier. There's still takeout boxes strewn on the coffee table but no time to throw them in the garbage now.

He rushes to open the door, apology ready on his lips.

"Sorry about the-" His voice falls away.

There's a man at the door. A man in a maid outfit. Shen Yuan is eye level with his chest, where the plunging neckline of his shirt exposes the white curves of his generous pecs. Shen Yuan's eyes follow exposed skin to the white ribbon tied around a small waist.

Shen Yuan's eyes drop, tracing down the dark fabric of the skirt, which ends very quickly, lined with white ruffles. They rest against the soft flesh of thick thighs. Shen Yuan's brain short circuits and he gapes, mouth hanging open.

His eyes continue down, unbidden, over strong calves and smooth, hairless skin, all the way to dainty ankles peeking out from ruffled white socks. They finish at a pair of polished black shoes, heeled and topped with small white bows.

"Sir?" The deep voice speaking over his head jerks his attention to the man's face.

And what a face! Shen Yuan suddenly understands why women swoon in those stupid stories. He's close to swooning now. The man is absolutely, gorgeously, swoon worthy. Flawless, soft-looking skin. The kind that bounces back at the press of a finger. He thinks the man must be wearing makeup, his lips can't be that red naturally. A strong jaw, elegant nose, sharp cheekbones and big doe eyes waiting for him. An adorable, perfect curl falls over his forehead.

"Uh.."

Shen Yuan's thoughts come slowly. This must be a mistake. Why is the most beautiful man in the world dressed in a maid outfit outside his door?

"You ordered the maid service? The lovely and masculine —Shen Yuan dizzily notes— man asks.

"Yes." Shen Yuan croaks.

He can't lie to such a stunning person, even if there's no reason for him to be at Shen Yuan's door. Perhaps he's lost...

The man smiles and the world fades away. Shen Yuan thinks if birds appeared at his shoulders and started signing a la Disney princess, he wouldn't be surprised. It's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. The man's eyes curve into enchanting crescents and his cheeks pull up cutely. Full lips stretch to reveal pearly white teeth.

"Hello sir, I'm Luo Binghe, your assigned maid!" He bows deep and polite.

Shen Yuan is too busy admiring the graceful movement to register his words. The man stands back up, he' so tall, yet slender... and holds up some ID or something, as if it matters, as if Shen Yuan is going to accuse someone so perfect of any-

"Can I come in?"

Shen Yuan freezes. Come in? To Shen Yuan's filthy apartment? Why on earth would he want to do that? He doesn't reply, blinking in confusion instead.

The man steps forward and Shen Yuan automatically backs out of his way. Shen Yuan's cheeks flush, ashamed as he recalls his own appearance, he's wearing sweats and a shirt he hasn't changed for days. The man's cologne? perfume, wafts into his nose, sweet and strong.

By the time Shen Yuan regains some of his wits, the man has closed the door and replaced his dainty heels with the indoor slippers available in the shoe rack. He smiles again at Shen Yuan, lowering his long lashes and inclining his head demurely, and walks further into the apartment. Shen Yuan stares at him walking away, swallowing, his eyes track the sway of the short skirt.

The gentle movement of the fabric causes round curves and the white of high-cut panties to peek out with every step. Shen Yuan's knees weaken and he leans against the wall to stop himself from falling to the floor.

What the fuck is going on?!

#svsss #svsss fic #my writing #my fic #i said it would take ages but the brainworms got to me #they are feasting!#hopefully i got it out of my system lol #shen yuan #luo binghe #bingyuan

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munsonsreputation · 11 months

Note

ok, ok, envision it, #4 taylor prompt:

steve harrington; i wish you would

congrats on reaching that milestone love! 🫶🏻💖

elizabeth!!!!

my apologies that it took me so long to get to your request 😭😭 i hope i was still able to do it justice and i hope you love it!!

"i wish you would" is one of my fave tracks off 1989 and im so ready for the rerecord of it!! it's also sooo steve harrington encoded -- i hope you like my twist of angsty fluffiness!!!

It was 2AM — too late of a time for either of you to be awake right now.

But Steve was on the other side of the door.

And you were also on the other side of the door.

Just an old wooden door separating the two of you but no one daring to make the first move and open it all because it came down to one thing—pride.

You and Steve had a hell of a lot of pride, which often led to stupid arguments over the dumbest things. Usually, the fight would resolve in a matter of minutes, if not maybe hours. Arguments never exceeded days or weeks—that was until now.

It was safe to say that outside your relationship, you each had lives consisting of managing a VHS store and yours filled with busy days at college completing a very stressful internship. The only time the two of you would get to kick back and relax is when you came home to each other. Spending the winding days in bed or lazily making dinner before falling asleep in each other arms on the couch.

Either way, it was both your and Steve’s preferred way of living.

That is until life got a bit too real and hectic, leading the two of you to spend less time together and more time on different schedules.

Family Video had incorporated a new tracking system which caused Steve to need to stay back later, trying to work through the stupid software so that the opening shift didn’t call him the next morning complaining about it not working.

Your internship was taking a toll on you mentally, requiring you to get up earlier than usual and head to campus in order to get work done before the day ended. Your colleague in the program had totally ghosted you, leaving you to pick up the slack when you weren’t quite sure how much of it you could carry alone.

By the time Steve got home, you were already asleep.

And by the time he woke up you were already gone.

The place you two shared didn’t even feel like a home anymore. Just simply a place where you two were in passing of each other before going off to live completely closed off lives. Suddenly, the energy just shifted, as if the two of you were now a crooked love with no idea where this was headed.

It was brutal for both of you, but of course it was always easier to blame each other instead of figuring out how to work past it. It didn’t help that the both of you were quick with your words, always biting back at one another with insults that neither of you really meant, just being used in the moment to deflect.

It blew up last week when you and Steve had both woken up late. The home phone blaring with calls from Family Video and Robin paging Steve every second. The alarm clock in your bedroom ringing sharply jolting the two of you awake.

Maybe it was the morning grumpiness combined with the exhaustion you two were facing, but either way it resulted in an early morning argument that was like a train running off the tracks.

“When’s the last time we even had dinner together?” You asked sharply as you combed your hair in the bathroom mirror.

Steve lifted his head after he spat out the toothpaste, glaring at you in the reflection. “It’s not my fault that by the time I get home you’re already passed out on the couch. What do you want me to do? Haul your half asleep body into the kitchen and force you to make spaghetti with me?”

You rolled your eyes, throwing your comb back into the drawers, slamming it shut as you walked away from him, though he was hot on your heels, still going on.

“Or wait do you want me to take you to Enzo’s so you can sleep in a booth while I eat never ending breadsticks?”

He watched you fling open the closet doors, grabbing a jacket and throwing it over your outfit, before you stared pointedly at him, “You’re such a fucking dick, Steven!”

“Oh, so I’m the dick now? How about the last time we had an actual conversation with each other that wasn’t just hi, hello, and bye?”

You brushed past him, bending to pick up your backpack and sling it over your shoulder. He reached into the closet, grabbing his vest and throwing it on before following you down the hallway and into the living room.

“Seems like we’re having one right now.” You muttered, grabbing your keys on the coffee table.

“Sure does,” He sighed, reaching for his own car keys.

That morning the two of you went your separate ways, starting off the day on a bad foot with nothing but hatred. But the two of you could never ever hate each other.

That wasn’t what your love was.

It was never formed from hate or thrived off of it.

It was supposed to be the kind that was always understanding and working together, but that was a standard that you knew you and Steve just weren’t capable of all the time.

The two of you were bringing less than a hundred percent to the table combined. There had to be some kind of compromise, a way for it to be settled, but of course, this was just something that was going to get dragged on until you both felt like putting your pride aside and taking the first step.

That fight was the catalyst that led the two of you here. Still standing on the other side of the door—your shared bedroom door that is.

For the past week, Steve was out on the couch while you occupied the bedroom. Not that you kicked him out or banned him from sleeping in bed with you, but you had gotten home the night after the fight and he was already home, knocked out asleep on the couch.

So you left him there, and since then that’s where he slept.

You couldn’t say you felt good about it because you didn’t. His back was probably all sorts of fucked up from cramming himself to sleep somewhat comfortably on that couch. And you had certainly missed his presence beside you in the middle of the night.

Steve didn’t know why he kicked himself out, probably just so you could both get some space and cool off, but he hadn’t meant for it to go on for this long. He missed kissing your forehead goodnight when he finally got home, and he certainly missed the way you’d do the same when you had to leave in the morning.

Right now, it just felt like a lot of yearning for one another because neither of you could remember what you were fighting for in the first place.

For pride?

For ego?

For what?

All you both wanted to do was just give each other the tightest hug and longest kiss because you missed each other that much.

You wanted to cry to him, to tell him that your stupid internship was driving you insane and all you really wanted was for him to hold you and tell you everything was going to be ok.

Steve wanted to vent to you over how stupid that damn tracking system was and how it was driving him up the walls and all he really needed right now was your encouragement to keep going.

He was probably asleep.

You were probably asleep.

Maybe it could wait until morning?

If either of you opened the door to see the other sleeping, it would just make you both want to turn back around and run from actually waking the other to apologize. It was best to just run back under the blankets and wait until you were both awake.

But honestly, the both of were just too exhausted and missing each other to even be mad anymore.

Fuck it…this couldn’t wait and neither of you was going to let it drag on.

“Baby,”

“Babe,”

The two of you stared at each other dumbfounded as if you were ghosts, but it didn’t last long as Steve quickly wrapped his arms around your back, pulling your body into his as you draped your arms around his neck, gluing yourself to him.

“I missed you.” You murmured into the juncture of his jaw and neck.

He could feel the heat of your breath fanning against his skin, a trickle of tears following suit only making him hold you tighter.

“I missed you more…and I’m sorry for being a dick.” He said, breathing in the smell of your hair and he whispered into it.

You sniffled, shaking your head the best you could in his hold, before he loosened, allowing you to look up at him through your watery eyes.

“I’m sorry too…I didn’t mean to take it out on you. I was just so stressed and I missed you too much to tell you how I was really feeling and I—”

He smiled softly at you, letting his thumb brush your tears away as he shook his head, “I did the same, baby. I just wished we didn’t solve it that morning…it would’ve prevented whatever the fuck happened last week.”

You laughed quietly, nodding your head in agreement. “I know. I wished we would have.”

“We can now.” Steve suggested, holding your face in your hands.

You smiled, sniffling once more before letting one of your hands rest on his cheek, “Yeah we can.”

Your lips finally connected after what seemed like a lifetime away. A reminder that while the love you and Steve shared wasn’t always picture perfect, it was certainly something that you both were always going to come back to.

You were each other’s person.

The other half you wanted to go to with all of life’s joys and upsets.

Together.

Sure, maybe you both pushed each other’s buttons way too easily, but it was the love that made the two of you come rushing back to each other.

Because when it mattered and came down to it, you and Steve could never live without each other — no matter the distance or even the stupid internship or job you each had.

Right here and right now, it was all good.

let me know what you think: reblogs, tags, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated!!!

leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!!

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot

#munsonsreputation #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve x y/n #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington x taylor swift #taylor swift x stranger things #kay's answered requests 💌#stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader

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helloalycia · 1 year

Text

first friend [one] // yelena belova

summary: you didn't expect to befriend an Avenger's sister, and yet you can't seem to imagine a life where she isn't in it.

warning/s: mentions of cheating.

author's note: it's been so long since i've updated this story and that's because i've been working on my own original fiction story, whilst also writing bits for this in between. here's a yelena imagine to make up for it! it's two parts so here is part one :)

some things to note: the snap didn't happen, thanos isn't a thing and natasha didn't die bc i said so lol

part two / masterlist / wattpad

YOUR POV

Befriending Yelena Belova, a Black Widow assassin and the Black Widow's little sister wasn't something I expected to happen. Aside from the fact that I didn't even know she existed until recently, I didn't think we'd hit it off. And yet, when I was filing some mission reports out in the Avengers Compound, I found myself having to call back a Miss Yelena Belova because she hadn't filled out her report correctly.

She earned my attention by knocking her knuckle on the desk next to mine, making me look up.

"You're Y/N Y/L/N?" she asked with a questioning look.

I nodded, returning her look with a confused one. "I am... and you are?"

"Yelena Belova," she answered, and I noticed her thick Russian accent, as if her name hadn't given it away already. "I was told to see you? Something about a report?"

"Oh, yes! Yes, thank you for coming," I said with a smile, before spinning around in my seat to face her fully. "It shouldn't take long. It's about your latest mission reports you've been sending in. They're missing a few important details, so I though I could show you how to fix it and then you won't have to keep coming back here."

"They're wrong?" she asked, lifting a brow.

"Just a few mistakes," I assured her before going to pull my laptop from my drawer to set up for her. She mumbled something to herself in Russian and though I wasn't sure what, I knew she sounded disappointed, so I added, "It gets easier once you're used to it, don't worry. You're new right?"

She hummed halfheartedly, more intrigued with the reports I was pulling up on the laptop. I motioned to the seat beside me and she moved from her hovering position to sit there, eyes still glued to the laptop.

"Let's see... here we are," I said, getting everything up on the screen before pushing the laptop between us so she could see it better. "Just some wrong codes which makes it harder to file correctly. You've been a little vague with some of the descriptions, and most importantly, you didn't get it signed off."

She frowned slightly and I tried to make her feel better since I knew what it was like to be new and not completely understand the system.

"I'll show you how to fix it," I told her with a reassuring smile, before taking another look at one of her reports. "Hey, this is quite the first mission, Agent Belova. High profile, working directly with the Black Widow – that's huge! Congrats!"

She winced, shaking her head quickly so that her fringe shook with her. "No, no, no. It's not Agent. Just Yelena."

"Oh. Sorry, Yelena."

"And you don't need to congratulate me. She's my sister," she continued with nonchalance, making me snort with a stifled laugh.

"Yeah, and the Hulk is my brother," I played along, before looking back to the screen to start from the top.

"She is," Yelena said with such conviction that I almost believed her. "Natasha Romanoff. My sister. She's a Black Widow. I'm a Widow, too."

I scoffed, waiting for her to tell me she was joking, but the longer she stared at me with expressionless eyes, the stupider I felt. She wasn't lying.

"You're serious," I realised, suddenly straightening up.

"Was I not serious looking? I thought I was pretty serious looking..."

"I didn't even know Agent Romanoff had a sister," I said with a mixture of amazement and surprise.

Yelena blinked, looked down at herself, then said, "Well, here I am."

I tried to disguise my surprise, but it was very obvious. After all, it wasn't everyday you met one of the Avengers' siblings.

"Right, yeah," I babbled, not sure how else to respond. "Er, sorry. Anyway... the report. It still needs to be amended."

She sighed impatiently and motioned for me to continue, so I went through one of them with her, thoroughly explaining the process in which to fill it in. After she was certain she understood, I left her to fill in the second report on her own whilst I got back to my PC to continue some work. Every now and then I'd glance at her to see if she was okay, and she'd have this very entertaining pout on her lips as she made some corrections. For somebody who was a trained assassin, she wasn't very intimidating. It was cute.

"What?" she asked, and I blinked when I realised she'd caught me staring.

Hoping she couldn't sense the heat rising in my cheeks, I shook my head. "Sorry, nothing."

She quirked a brow, hazel eyes lingering on mine momentarily before going back to her screen.

After about ten minutes, she let out a sigh of relief and pushed the laptop towards me, earning my attention.

"It is done," she said tiredly. "I think, anyway."

I smiled at her before checking it over, relieved when I'd seen she'd done it right. She'd saved me a job in the long run.

"It's looking good, Yelena, thank you," I told her. "You're alright to go now."

"Great." She slapped her hands on her thighs before standing up, letting out a dramatic breath.

"Nice meeting you," I said with a nod as she tucked the chair in, ready to leave. "Though hopefully not again if you get this right from now on."

At my poor attempt at a joke, she surprisingly cracked a smile. "Nice meeting you, too, Y/N. Thanks for the help."

"Anytime. S'what I'm here for."

And that was what I thought would be the first and last time I'd meet Yelena. You know, a nice little story to share at parties of how I met an Avengers' sister. But it was barely half a month later when she returned. Funnily enough, it was for the same reason – she was using the wrong code, making my job harder.

When I called her to my floor, I saw her first this time. I'd seen her around a few times since the last, though it was only in passing around the building. She definitely wouldn't have remembered me, but I'd heard enough about her to know who she was. Her eyes roamed the room before she caught my gaze and I waved her over with a friendly smile.

"Hey, Yelena," I said when she stopped before me. "You probably don't remember me, but I'm–"

"Y/N Y/L/N, right?" she asked, to my surprise.

"Yeah...," I said, before adding, "Sorry for calling you down again. It's just– you really need to get this right before I file it away and it's a bad habit to develop."

She pouted a little, nodding. "Right. Sorry."

"It's all good," I assured her, leading her over to the laptop already set up at my desk. "We can go through it again if it'll help."

She nodded and I sat with her for a bit, explaining what the different codes meant and how to differentiate for the sake of the filing system. She seemed to understand after a bit, so I left her to it as I returned to my computer beside her to do some work. It was quiet for a few minutes, as she correctly filed her latest reports, before she spoke up.

"You have a lot of... things," she noticed aloud, and when I glanced her way, she was touching one of the toys on my desk – a solar-powered dancing giraffe.

I smiled with amusement. "Yeah... I get tired of staring at a screen all the time, so it's nice to have stuff to play with."

She reached over for another one of the toys lining my desk – a Scooby Doo plushie – and held it up, quirking a brow. "This?"

Putting on my best Shaggy voice, I said with a grin, "That's Scoob."

She seemed mildly taken aback by my voice and blinked, making me realise she had no idea what I was doing.

"Scooby Doo?" I prompted, my face heating up with embarrassment, before taking the plushie from her and setting it back down to distract myself and not think about the funny look she was giving me. "My sister got it me as a present for my desk. I don't even like Scooby Doo that much, but it's cute..."

"I have no idea what a Scooby Doo is," she said, shaking her head.

I raised my brows, surprised. "No." Judging from her expression, she was serious, leading me to continue attempting to prompt some sort of memory of the famous cartoon. "Scooby Doo? Mystery Inc.? Shaggy? Velma? Daphne? Fred?"

"It's almost like I've been under mind control for the past decade and not had chance to watch any TV in my free time," she deadpanned, and my insides shrivelled up there and then.

Since Yelena had started working with her sister, storied had travelled through the grapevine about how she'd been under mind control and was freed, only for her to spend a lot of her time doing the same for the women in the Black Widow programme around the world, freeing them, too. It was honourable work, but easy to forget when it wasn't something that affected you directly.

"Oh, erm," I started, mouth going dry the longer she stared through my soul (or at least it felt that way), "sorry. I didn't mean to– oh God– I–"

"Kidding," she interrupted, her intimidating expression easing into a smile. She tilted her head, amused. "Kind of. I mean, that's definitely what happened, but no biggie."

I began to laugh awkwardly, swallowing the lump in my throat. "Right, yeah..."

"You're not mad, right?" she asked, in reference to her playing me.

So, I took my revenge, naturally. "Well, it was kind of shitty to make this whole thing awkward," I answered with a fake frown.

Her smile faded instantly when she realised I was offended, so I shot her a smile of my own, tilting my head.

"Kidding."

Upon realising I, too, was pulling her leg, she exhaled softly and rolled her eyes, but a playful smile was tugging at her lips.

"Anyway," I returned to the subject at hand, looking back to the plushie, "it's cool. Scooby Doo. Worth the watch, if you find the chance."

She hummed in response, but I wasn't sure if she was actually considering it or just making conversation.

Soon enough, we returned to our work before she finished up and filed everything correctly this time.

"Awesome, looks like you're all done here," I told her, the both of us standing up. "Was nice seeing you again, Yelena. Hopefully for the last time. I'm sure you're getting sick of being called down here."

She cracked a smile, hazel eyes looking green as they met mine. "It was nice meeting you properly, Y/N Y/L/N."

I wondered why she kept addressing me by my full name but said nothing of it as I nodded to her. "You, too. See you later."

Though Yelena and I had met twice because of work circumstances, we never became friends until afterwards. It wasn't long after that second encounter when I saw her again.

I was eating lunch with some colleagues in the café on one of the lower levels of the Compound when I recognised the blonde assassin approaching our table, to my surprise.

Immediately I lowered my sandwich and sent her a smile. "Yelena, hey!"

She was wearing workout clothes, though wasn't sweaty which made me think she was on her lunch break, too. "Hey, I saw you and thought I'd stop by to say hello."

This was surprising to hear, since the Avengers rarely ate anywhere but their designated floors, but I appreciated it nonetheless and answered, "Nice. Have you eaten? You can join us if you want."

I motioned to the table of my colleagues, who were all so deep into conversation that they weren't even paying Yelena and I any attention. To be fair, it was so busy in the café that I could only just about hear our conversation myself.

"Oh, no, I've just finished eating with my sister," she explained, pointing a thumb over her shoulder.

I followed the direction and saw none other than Natasha Romanoff sat at a table by the window, looking over at us with intrigue. Too intimidated by her presence, I immediately looked away, hoping nobody picked up on it. What can I say? It was an Avenger! Yes, I worked in the same building as them, but they were still superheroes. And Natasha was the scariest one in my opinion.

"Cool," I squeaked out, cursing inwardly at my failed attempt to remain cool before Yelena.

Maybe it was because we'd gotten to know each other a little so I wasn't as intimidated by her as I should have been, but I didn't find myself nervous around Yelena which was a relief. I had no doubts that she could murder me in several ways, just like her sister, if she wanted to, but it still didn't make a difference.

"So, I checked out that Scooby Doo show you mentioned," Yelena continued, further surprising me. "And apparently there's a film as well?"

I grinned at the mention of it. "Hell yeah! The film is the best. But it has to be the 2002 and 2004 ones."

"Yeah, well the show is great, and I get the whole Shaggy voice you were doing now," she said with a smile, and I felt myself cringing as I relived that moment all over again.

"That's good," I said awkwardly, scrunching my face up with embarrassment, and she definitely noticed but thankfully didn't tease me about it. "Anyway, you doing good? You must be since you've not been sent down to see me to fix your reports."

She snickered. "Yeah. Thanks for the help with that by the way."

I shrugged. "It's the job."

She hummed, appearing awkward momentarily, before taking a step back. "I should leave you to it anyway. Just wanted to say hello. Hope I didn't interrupt."

"No worries, you didn't!" I said reassuringly, realising she may have wanted to talk some more. To be honest, I kind of wanted to, too. She was easy to talk to. "Hey, er, before you go, did you want to go out for a coffee or something sometime? I know you're new to the city, so maybe you wanna hang out?"

In this moment, it wasn't like I was talking to an Avenger's sister or an infamous Black Widow. It was just me wanting to get to know Yelena Belova a little better. She was new, we got on, so why not? Only when she took a second longer to answer did I realise that I may have overstepped. But thankfully, any worries I had were squashed when she smiled gently.

"Yeah, I would like that," she said with a nod.

I returned her smile. "Cool. Hold on. I'll grab your number from you, let me just get my phone..."

THIRD PERSON POV

After exchanging phone numbers with Y/N, the two girls bid their goodbyes before Yelena returned to her sister. Natasha was standing up already, ready to leave, but not without giving her sister a knowing smirk.

"What?" Yelena asked when she noticed it, grabbing her rubbish from the table and moving to throw it away.

Natasha's smirk didn't fade as she followed after the blonde, but not before glancing back at the girl Yelena was just talking to. "I know why you wanted to eat downstairs now."

Yelena, who was usually so in control of situations like these, avoided looking at the redhead. "Shut up, Natasha."

Natasha, of course, didn't let up. "So, who was that? New crush?"

Yelena was certain her cheeks are pink with embarrassment, but she refused to let Natasha get to her. "I don't know what you're talking about. You told me to make new friends, remember?"

Chuckling to herself, Natasha said, "Yeah, no. That's clearly more than a friend. Or at least you want it to be. Now. Are you gonna tell me who she is or do I have to go back there and find out myself?"

Yelena rolled her eyes, sure that if she just didn't answer, her sister would leave it alone. Of course, that was too good to be true as Natasha suddenly came to a halt and began to back up, ready to turn around.

"Natasha, wait!" Yelena spluttered, grabbing her by the arms to stop her, making Natasha raise her brows with surprise and amusement.

"Wow, somebody's nervous! What – you scared I'm gonna embarrass you?" Natasha teased.

Yelena was hot with nervousness, unsure why she was so effected by the possibility of Y/N and her sister meeting. Then again, the fact that Natasha was definitely intending to humiliate her was probably enough of a reason.

"She isn't a crush," Yelena explained, though she would be lying if she said she wasn't thinking about Y/N a lot more than she should have been since their last encounter. "Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She works in the admin department a few floors down. We've spoken a few times and I thought she seemed pretty cool, so we made plans to hang out. That's all."

Natasha squinted, trying to read her sister's expression. It was clear that wasn't the whole truth, but she'd done enough teasing for the day and decided to give Yelena a break. For now.

"Hmm, alright," she gave in reluctantly. "If you say so."

"Your told me to make friends," Yelena reminded her, letting go of her arms and relaxing. "That's all I'm doing.”

Natasha snickered. "Right. Well, good on you."

Yelena exhaled, glad Natasha wasn't fighting it anymore. After all, she wasn't lying. She was just making friends. Ever since joining her sister at the Compound, making use of the resources the Avengers had on her mission to freeing the mind-controlled Widows, Natasha had been adamant she attempt to fit in somehow, make a life for herself. And Y/N happened to be the first person she had a genuine interest in. Was that a crime?

It wasn't a crush – at least she didn't think it was. After all, she hadn't had the opportunity to 'like' like somebody before, let alone befriend somebody. She wasn't exactly sure she knew the difference, not when she hadn't had control of her own mind for so long.

It was best to take things as they came, she knew that, so that's what she would do. And that began with going out with Y/N.

YOUR POV

After hanging out with Yelena – nothing extravagant, just grabbing a coffee and getting to know each other better – we became friends. It was easy to grow used to her dry, sarcastic sense of humour and blunt personality, and it was much easier to be less intimidated by her when I realised how sweet she was.

I wasn't sure how or why we got on, but we just did, and that was where our friendship blossomed. We'd catch each other at work, her mostly stopping by my offices as going to the Avengers' personal floors still made me nervous, and I'd show her around the city more between work which was the best way for her to settle in whilst I got to show her some of my favourite spots.

Turns out the scary assassin was actually a big old softie on the inside, and it was too easy to consider her my best friend. After half a year of growing so close that she knew pretty much everything about me and vice versa, I couldn't have imagined not having her in my life. Her opinion meant a lot to me – she meant a lot to me – so much that when I found out my boyfriend of a year was cheating on me, I couldn't bring it in myself to tell her.

It was humiliating, finding the texts on his phone from another girl, along with some inappropriate videos. Dehumanising when he tried to defend his actions after discovering I knew the truth. We were in a content, happy relationship and I was convinced I loved him, only for the worst to happen.

The last thing I wanted to do was air out my dirty laundry to people I knew, including Yelena, so I kept it to myself. Of course it hurt and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry, but the embarrassment of her finding out I'd been cheated on was even worse, so I just didn't tell her.

Of course, Yelena wasn't a fool. She was a trained assassin for crying out loud, so when were watching TV together in my apartment, she brought the topic up carefully.

"Y'know, I haven't heard you talk about Thomas in a while," she said between episodes of The Office.

The mention of my ex-boyfriend took me off guard, admittedly, and I hoped she couldn't see my hesitation when I replied, "Yeah, he's not really in my life anymore. We broke up."

In my peripheral vision, I could see Yelena's surprise. "Pardon? Did I hear that right? You broke up?"

I cleared my throat, nodding nonchalantly, though inside the wound was still fresh. "Yeah, it was a mutual thing. We realised it wasn't working anymore. So, we broke up."

"But you were– it was a long–" She was stuck on her words, before finally settling on, "When?"

I shuffled uncomfortably on the couch, fingers playing with the corner of the cushion in my hand. "About a week ago."

She paused, and I finally looked over to see her watching me with a softened expression, though still confused.

"Do you mind if we don't talk about it?" I asked her gently, offering a forced smile.

She nodded. "Right. Sorry. I just– sorry."

I shrugged, looking back at the TV. "It's okay. It's no biggie."

It was, but she didn't need to know that. My hope was that she'd never bring it up again and I'd move on from it all without her ever discovering the embarrassment of the truth. That just wasn't the case though...

We went out for lunch together, maybe a week after that conversation took place, and it was going perfectly fine. We caught up, had pointless and absolutely insane conversations about things that made no sense, and were genuinely enjoying each other's company. It was going perfectly fine, until it wasn't.

"...so he tried to shoot me, but obviously he didn't get a single shot...," Yelena was recalling one of her recent missions, and I wanted to listen, but my attention was stolen when I saw who was sat a few tables behind her.

Thomas, out of all the people who I could have spotted, was pulling out a chair for his date – a really pretty girl who I recalled seeing in the photos and videos on his phone. They were smiling flirtatiously at one another, clearly on a date, and though it was so glaringly obvious that he was going out with her, it didn't really hit me until they shared a kiss.

He was on a date with the girl he cheated on me with.

It wasn't the easiest thing to witness, the wound still very much raw. I hated his guts and I hated the way he made me feel, but that hatred was still wrapped in hurt and embarrassment. And when I saw him with her, I already felt tears pricking my eyes.

"Sorry, I just need to go to the toilet," I cut Yelena off quickly, stumbling out of my booth as I stood up.

She called my name but I ignored her as I sped to the toilets, avoiding looking anywhere but ahead. Thankfully it was empty, but I was left to view my own reflection and, for the first time in a long time, I hated what I saw. I looked like a mess. My vision was blurry, tears filling my eyes, a lump in my throat.

He really didn't want me, didn't he? Something had to be wrong for him not to.

"Y/N, are you in here?"

I sucked up a breath and wiped my eyes before I could shed a single tear for him. Turning around, I saw Yelena entering the bathroom, eyes looking around until they met mine worriedly.

"There you are," she said with relief, rushing in and resting her hands on my shoulders. "What happened? Is it to do with Thomas? I saw him sat out there when you ran off."

It would have been so easy to lie and brush it off, but Yelena was staring right into my soul and I couldn't hold it in for much longer.

"We didn't break up mutually," I whispered, ashamed of the crack in my voice.

Yelena wasn't following. "What?"

I frowned, looking down and feeling my eyes well up all over again. "Thomas and I. We didn't– he–"

Why was it so hard to say?

"Y/N, you can tell me anything," Yelena reassured in a voice so soft I'd never heard it before.

I couldn't meet her eyes. "He was cheating on me."

She didn't respond, nor react, not verbally anyway. I wasn't sure what expression she pulled because I was too embarrassed to look up from the floor.

"Y/N, I..."

All she did was pull me close and it was like a dam burst within me, the tears I'd bottled up for so long finally being set free. I sobbed quietly, shamefully, into her shoulder, and wasn't sure what else to say.

Yelena was sweet – she always was – as she held me upright, letting me make a wet, snotty mess of her jacket. And she held me close until I finally stopped, reluctantly pulling myself from the safety of the crook of her neck.

"Do you want to say something to him?" is all she asked, so carefully, as if I might break even more.

I shook my head, wiping the tears from my face and avoiding her eyes. "I just want to leave."

She nodded, taking my hand in hers and squeezing it gently. I was too tired to do anything but let her lead me out of there, most of it a blur. I recalled her glaring daggers in Thomas' direction when we passed his table, but I refused to look up and see if he noticed. When we reached her car, there was a tense silence in the air.

Finally, after a minute, she broke it.

"Why didn't you tell me, Y/N?" she asked quietly, and I could feel her eyes boring into the side of my head.

Wiping my face to distract from my warm cheeks, I answered, "It's embarrassing."

"No, it's not," she said, and I could see her shaking her head in the corner of my eye.

I scoffed, angry at myself for breaking down. "Of course it is. He cheated on me because clearly something is wrong with me. That's literally the epitome of embarrassing."

"What– are you insane?"

I glanced at her, clenching my jaw. "Maybe. Who knows?"

She scrunched her face up with annoyance. "Stop that. You're not." Her expression softened. "You're completely and utterly wonderful, and the only insane one is him for throwing that away!"

I rolled my eyes, leaning against the passenger door as I got comfortable. "You have to say that. You're my friend."

"No," she said with conviction. "I mean it. Every word. And those are the reasons I'm your friend. Because you're the way you are."

I shook my head, glaring at the front window. "Forget it, it doesn't matter anyway. Can you just– please can we go home?"

She opened her mouth, as if to retort, and I seriously wasn't in the mood. Thankfully, she dropped it for now and put her seatbelt on instead.

The ride home was awkward, mostly because I still felt humiliated at my breakdown and even worse because I hated being pitied by Yelena. If it were up to me, we'd forget this ever happened, but I knew she wouldn't.

"You should've said something sooner," she said when she pulled up outside my apartment building. Her voice was calm, but her words carried weight. "I would've helped."

Realising how bitchy I was being for no reason, I let go of my anger. She was never my target – I was my own worst enemy right now. All Yelena had done was be there for me.

"You helped before. Getting me out of there." I exhaled, regretful of my attitude earlier, and gave her a grateful look. "Thanks."

She looked to me, green eyes twinkling sadly, matching the frown on her lips. I leaned forward and pulled her in for a hug, albeit an awkward one because we were still in the car, but a needed one. She was a really good hugger, I realised, and I didn't want her to go just yet.

"Do you wanna come up?" I asked lamely once I pulled away. "I just– I–"

"Of course," she cut me off, and I was relieved because I had no idea how to say anything else.

I relaxed, nodding, and glanced at her with a small smile before getting out the car. She followed me out and up to my place, where we instantly fell into a sweet lull of an afternoon. She didn't bring up Thomas for the rest of the day. Not when we ate up all the junk food in my kitchen. Not when we watched one film after another, her letting me pick them all. And not when we passed out on my couch, too tired to get up and make it to my bed.

When I woke up the next morning, I found myself half laying on Yelena's chest as she laid on the couch, leg hanging off the end.

"Shit, sorry," I mumbled when I realised I was drooling on her shirt.

She groaned, tired, and mumbled something I couldn't make out, before opening her eyes and immediately widening them. I wondered what had her spooked, but was still too tired to think on it longer than a second.

"I am so hungry," I thought aloud, pushing myself to sit upright. Letting out a yawn, I checked my watch. "We didn't eat at all last night. Not a proper meal anyway."

Yelena still hadn't spoken, so I stood up and stretched, yawning once more. I hadn't realised how quickly time had gotten away from us yesterday, nor how easily I was able to forget the mishap because I had Yelena.

"I think I have some eggs in the fridge," I said, padding over to the kitchen to take a look. "You want some?"

Yelena didn't answer and I didn't really care, taking it as a yes anyway. Before starting to cook, I went to freshen up in the bathroom and wake myself up a little more. When I came out, Yelena was waiting outside the door.

"There's a spare toothbrush under the sink," I told her with a smile. "I'll get started on breakfast."

She nodded tiredly, going in after me. I started on breakfast meanwhile, the events of yesterday coming to mind as I fried some eggs. It was a strange day, but it felt good to be able to tell Yelena the truth. I didn't feel so alone anymore.

When I heard Yelena coming out the bathroom, I glanced over my shoulder and saw her looking much more awake than before. And that's also when I realised she was still wearing the same clothes from yesterday.

"I have some clothes you can wear if you want," I offered, but she declined with a polite head shake.

"I'll just be going back to the Compound after, it's all good."

I hummed in acknowledgment, getting back to putting our breakfast together. She took a seat at the dining table and I felt the need to speak up again.

"Thanks," I blurted out, making no sense.

She sounded confused, and tired. "Huh?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I distracted myself with plating up our eggs. "For staying last night. And for not making... it a thing. That's all I wanted."

If Yelena wanted to, she could have turned Thomas inside out with ease, but she didn't, and I was eternally grateful.

"I'll always be here for you, Y/N," she said when I was setting her plate in front of her.

I glanced up at her from the plate. "I know. I'm lucky."

She began to smile, eyes meeting mine comfortingly. I returned her smile, hoping she knew how much she meant to me, before taking a seat opposite her and digging in.

#yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #florence pugh #mcu #marvel #marvel imagine #black widow

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docholligay · 2 months

Text

Harrow the Ninth by Tamsyn Muir

Thank you @becauseforoncethisisme for sponsoring this! Regulars know this, but if you're new here, all opinions are mine and it's fine to disagree with me, but please don't get weird about it.

Nonspoilery:

Good God in high heaven and low hell, this is so much better than the first book. This is both a personal and professional opinion. The only problem with it being, I cannot in good conscience tell anyone to read the first book in order to get to the second. I don’t think it’s so good as to justify that. That’s a pretty tall order. In all, though, if you read Gideon the Ninth and thought, “Hm. Okay, that’s enough for now,” this might whet your whistle a little bit more.

Spoilery:

Wow did I like this better than Gideon, you were all so right and it does not bother me even one solitary bit to say so. I think it starts slow, and I don’t know that I really ever connected with the second person bits--once I figured out what it meant, i wanted it to be confirmed and stop-- and of course Muir’s style occasionally grates on me (Muir and I are the same age. I know we grew up in the same fandom environment, and part of the reason I know that is I recognize elements of her style from fanfics being written then as now. This is stuff from like, sporking days. She’s so talented, and so loves these strange, memey asides even in lovely moments. That being said, i think this book strikes a much, much better balance with that and there were even times I found it fun, so, things are improving) But overall I would say I liked this book just fine, and would consider reading it again on some winter night. LEAPS AND BOUNDS over my experience of GtN

I struggled so hard with the first 150 pages or so of this book. I think it was a combination of how little I remembered from the first book, the taste the first book left in my mouth, and the fact that I am just, too stupid for high-concept fantasy. So all the stuff about thanergy and thelergy and conversion, I just, sat there not possible caring less about any of it. I don’t care now, and I came away liking the book! This is for someone, certainly, but I am not it. If this hadn’t been a commission, I think I would have given up at a certain point. I usually give a book 100 pages and this wouldn’t have done it for me*

At the end of the day, I think one of the things this book can be about--for me, it’s about more than one thing, but this is the easy reach--is about grief. And how being willing to give yourself a Fantasy Lobotomy, if that’s what it takes, to avoid the hurt and loss that grief brings in, and the guilt, only ends up hurting yourself and everyone around you.

Also, it doesn’t bring them back. Forgetting them in every way possible does nothing to bring them back. Now, Harrow is a special case, so for her it can’t only be about avoiding pain, because what she’s also doing, because of how the whole Lyctorhood thing works, is, in a sense, keeping Gideon on life support. Like is said later in the book, shoving her in a drawer she can’t open, but so long as the drawer is never opened, Gideon is alive. It’s Harrow living her entire life in the doorway where where a policeman stands, ready to tell you someone you loved is dead, and she won’t let him speak. Because it’s not true until he does.

I like Harrow so much more in this one by virtue of the fact that this book cares so much less if we like or forgive her. Because of the way it works with perspective, and the way it’s trying not to tip its hand to the fact that Gideon is our second-person narrator, we get a much more neutral version of Harrow’s life

How Lyctors work: Love it. What a choice. My favorite takeaway from the first book, and perhaps the only thing I still think about actively while lying in bed at night, is the necromancer-cavalier system. I think it is fantastic, I love it, it works perfectly for imagining all shades of relationship and is very fun to do to your blorbim. I can’t remember if we found this out so explicitly at the end of the first book--as I said in an aside post while I was reading HtN, the pool scene in GtN pissed me off so much that I had a rage blackout for much of the book and forgot it the second I wrote about it--but the idea that the necromancer can only become this sort of ultimate power by killing this person they, by necessity, have some level of intimate bond with? Exceptional. I love that they are, in a sense, protected and powered by a person who loved them, that they murdered. I am so unbelievably into this idea, and the idea of those who can DO this, and who can’t. Reeled me back to my blorbos all over again.

Which of course makes the whole thing with Harrow so interesting, because Harrow is someone who can’t deal with the cost of it. In full fairness to her, it wasn’t a choice she got to make, but she certainly does Gideon’s memory no honor by refusing to even acknowledge her sacrifice. She’s spitting on the roast lamb on the altar, so to speak. It’s sort of the murdered children problem all over again, though a million times better done: If an impossible sacrifice is made for you, what do you do to earn it? It’s Saving Private Ryan, and you have to spend your whole life hoping you earned a sacrifice someone made without your consent. And you should! What will you do, to earn your place? I know, i know, we all hate that except for me, but if Gideon died to make you a demigod, earn your power, and take your responsibility.

Ianthe: I love a good horrible, manipulative cunt, and Ianthe certainly is that. This isn’t even me joking, she’s one of my favorite characters in the book (Though not my absolute favorite) and also my poster child for “I support women’s wrongs.” I think it’s so smart and great that at the end, Ianthe makes the wrong choice, and that you are sitting there screaming for her not to do that, and yet when she does it, it feels completely correct. Of course this is a thing that she both can and would do. Ianthe is about hedging her bets, and above all else, about Ianthe. She killed Naberius as soon as she figured out the deal. We get the sense that she feels…i’m not sure how I want to say this…it’s not that she doesn’t feel about it, but she feels inevitable about it, also. To her, there was no other choice.

She is willing to help Harrow destroy herself, shut herself off, because Ianthe loves a good “you fucking owe me” but also because other than how it benefits or hurts her, what the fuck does she care? I love her, it’s how I wish I could write Minako if I could get away with it. She’s clever and fun and terrible. I think she’s also, narratively, a great balance for Harrow’s whole ‘That girl in homeroom in an Invader Zim hoodie” vibe.

Mercymorn my beloved: If Ianthe is my poster child for, “I support women’s wrongs” than Mercymorn is my ‘tag yourself.’ The longer the book when on, the more I liked her because the more I understood her. As an old lady who has been a part of things for many years, who has seen them grow and fall apart, who has lost people I loved and worked with people I hate, I loved everything about her. I love how utterly done she is with the whole thing. The way she so clearly loved Cristabel, and how she reacts to the pain of that love in a way I understand, and didn’t realize how clearly I understood her until Mercymorn killed the Emperor. Then it all hit at once, I remember that moment pretty early on in the book where it mentions that is you say Cristabel’s name to Mercymorn, she reacts like she’s stung. The way she yells at Harrow to never use her name with her, filled with rage. That is a kind of grief I recognize. I don’t want to talk about it and i’ll fucking kill you if you remind me.

I felt every ounce of hurt, a plucking of a twin string, when she said, “This is the chance for unloveable Mercymorn--critical Mercymorn--to show you that she is the most capable of her name.”

And then she kills the emperor. Do I think he was sorry? Do I think he never wanted any harm to come to Cristabel**? Does Mercymorn think that? It doesn’t fucking matter. Whether he feels bad about it or not, it’s academic at best. She murdered Cristabel because a man she trusted, a man she took to be her God, lied to her about it. He told her she, to save the world, had to give up a person she adored. Had to do it herself. I, too, would rip him atom from atom, if I were Mercymorn***. Maybe she does forgive him, but only because he is about to make repentance in blood.

She’s my favorite character in the whole fucking book, bar none.

(On that note, sort of, I actually came to very much love Augustine.)

Oh! One thing I loved, so much, and I don’t think anyone I’ve seen say anything even offhandedly about the book, is during the fight with the Sleeper, how Ortus’ BELIEF and PASSION form the basis to call up Mattias Fucking Nonius. Is that not incredible? That faith, can be so strong, that Abigail could call up a man that none of them ever knew, who is basically an idea more than a man, to fight? I think it’s such a lovely little lesson tucked in there, because we have been making fun of Ortus’ belief system for the entire book, mocking the way he recites this, and in the end, his deeply held belief matters, it matters so much, and I adored that as a real reversal of mocking someone faithful.

I think part of the underlying problem with GtN is I just don’t like Gideon. I don’t like her point of view, I don’t like her character voice, I don’t like her general vibe, and the narrative does like her, and wants you to like her. In this book, it’s fine because so much of it is not from her perspective, but it became pretty clear to me that so much of what I disliked (though not all) of the first book was a Gideon-based problem. And you can’t escape her in the first book.

This all flew immediately back to me when Gideon is taking up Harrow’s body and also the narrative duties. I cannot stand her character voice. Muir is capable of being so smart and so beautiful in her prose, but not only is Gideon herself irritating, but she inspires Muir to do this…recitation of memes, the one I can think of off the top of my head is “Jail for mother” Tamsyn i will fucking kill you. I will not read Nona, because the back page tells me, threateningly, that Gideon will be back in Nona, and not only can i not handle reading another word from her, but also that will unmake the beauty of telling Harrow that she has to let Gideon go, that she has to let them become one and thus lose Gideon, because of course it does because it’s a fantasy book, and fantasy just Does This A Lot. Stop letting people come back! Kill these motherfuckers and leave them dead!

The thing about Pyrrha and Wake having an affair with Gideon’s body, and wake having God’s baby in order to open the locked tomb, it’s such a weird aside in a weird moment, that I can see I am going to forget about it. It’s so strange! I mean, it explains why Gideon didn’t die when she was supposed to, and I don’t have a problem with it per se, but I also don’t know that I have any feelings about it other than, ‘hm. Strange.”

In all: Not a bad book! Enjoyed it more as the book went on, Mercymorn for Lyfe. I hope Ianthe continues being the world’s sexiest and worst person.

Did you want to ask me something? As long as you’re not a dick about it, ask away! Let’s have fun.

*I suppose that’s my own personal de jure vs de facto, because truthfully I can’t remember the last time I straight up did not finish a book. Perhaps I’m just lying to myself. I dnf shows and movies all the time, but not books.

** No, I don’t think that.

***Although I’m actually not all that sure in my marriage if I’m the necro. I think I’m actually the cavalier. I don’t think Jill would feel a whole lot of patience over having murdered me either, though.

#Doc reads #now mom is gonna read them both I'll report back

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cerberusthenking3 · 28 days

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A Meal Fit for a King

Warning:This story contains soft,safe vore,accidental fearplay,mawplay,child prey,G/T,aftercare

I also(obviously)don't own Hazbin Hotel or any characters associated with it.Also, the borrowers in this AU aren't sinners but instead are hellborn who are commonly captured as snacks by sinners and bigger hellborn

Also, Lucifer has a crop because of shape-shifting abilities

I hope leviathanverse enjoys

May POV.

I sneakily slip by the guards at the door to the kitchen and between through the small slit under the door.I pop my head out of under the door and look around,taking a deep breath and giving a relieved sigh,no one's here.Its strange for the kitchen to be empty but I'm not one to miss an opportunity when it's offered to me so I slip in and run over towards one of the cupboards.My hand flicks into my belt and I pull my small hook and wire off the can top fashioned into a loop to hold my hook.My hand slides up the wire and I begin spinning it and take a second to calculate the angle and then I flick it up and silently celebrate as it perfectly wraps around the drawer handle and hooks to itself.My feet brace against the solid door and I quickly pull myself up the wooden pane and arrive at the handle before cautiously unfurling the wire off its anchor and pull myself up onto the counter.I dash across the pretty marble and arrive at a large platter of food and dig through it,choosing a few nice fruits like chunks of apple and pieces of grapes before smelling something more delicious than anything I've ever smelled before.I turn to were the smell is coming from and see a giant brown object covered in some sort of sweet smelling white liquid and cherries.I take a step towards is before stopping,this is definitely a trap so I need to leave,right now.I turn and begin back down the counter when another smell hits my nose.Okay,maybe one piece and then I'm gone,before anyone notices.

May POV.

I quickly scarf down a chunk of the delicious.....thing?Doesn't matter what it is,I tasted it, and now I have to leave.I turn to run off when a smell hits my nose,wait how did he get here?I should have smelled him long before"Why hello there,little borrower"I freeze as I slowly turn and see the king of hell,Lucifer,pulling himself out of a cabinet and he detransforms from a mouse into his real form,and I notice him licking the same sweet white liquid off his hand and his smell fully assaults my nose.He used the delicious snack as cover for his scent and covered his mouse dorm in it for extra measure.My heart begins banging against my chest as he steps towards me and says"You're not gonna leave withou-"I cut him off and sprint off as quickly as I can,leaping off the counter and throwing the hook out,watching it hook to the fridge handle before sliding down the wire and wrenching the hook away as I hear Lucifer finally chasing after me as I slide under the door and through the guards legs as one of them look down at me when the door is thrown open and lucifer runs out yelling"WAIT,I DIDN'T MEAN TO SCARE YOU,COME BACK"I run into a small carved mousehole,which I use as a tunnel system to get around the mansion and collapse against the wall taking deep,gasping breaths before looking out the mousehole and seeing Lucifer on his knees looking in.He quickly says"I w got off on the wrong foot,I'm Lucifer,you are?"I step back and mutter."Not stupid enough to fall for this,bye"and sprint down the tunnel and back to my home.When I get back, I sigh and place my haul on the little table fashioned from a couple bottle caps and some toothpicks.Raising my hand up to my face I tightly squeeze the bridge of my nose and slam the bottom of my palm into my forehead,two years,I've gone two years here without being seen and I ruin it because of some random sweet food.I'm an idiot but I'm not stupid enough to stay here,this place was basically luxury but after tonight I'll have to find another place to stay.

May POV

My eyes snap open as I feel someone watching me, and I shoot up before feeling something, taking up most of the room.I look up, and my heart stops as I see a giant white snake wearing a tophat with a striped pink and red stomach is filling up most of my room.I scramble back and press my back against the wall as the snake.....talks?He anxiously says"Wait don't freak out,please,this probably isn't the best form for this,I now realize,but it's the first form I though of"My jaw drops and I pull the blanket closer to my mouth and softly say"P-please,don't e-eat m-m-me Me.L-Lucifer,i-im sorry for s-stealing from you,I'm g-gonna leave t-t-tommorow,I s-swear"He looks down at me and seems to start panicking before saying"Wait,I'm not mad at you,I've been trying to catc-meet you for a couple of months,that cake was actually made for you,which is why the kitchen was empty"I shiver as his head gets closer and use my free hand to push him away before saying"So,y-your not gonna e-e-eat me?"He avoids eye contact with me before saying certainly,"I swear I won't hurt or kill you in any way,"He let's me stand up as I act like I'm going towards my table before saying softly"Thats not what I asked,sir"He freezes which is enough of a hint to what he was planning for me to act.I leap over his coils as I sprint out of the room and dash down the hall but don't get very far as his tail wraps around my stomach and I just collapse as I'm pulled back into my room.I just sit there as I feel tears well up in my eyes and I hear him nervously ask"He-hey a-are you o-o-okay,oh wait,shit,you're crying,um,I swear I'm not gonna hurt you"He lifts me off the ground and I squeeze my eyes shut before I feel him begin moving.I slowly open my eyes and see that he's holding me while slithering through the tight corridor.I'm gonna die when he exits the wall,I give a dry sob before my body as close together as I can and try to imagine myself in my happy place.

May POV.

The ride gets bumpy after a couple of minutes, and then the tail dissapears off me.Instantly I try to run off before I feel a warm hand wrap around me and pull me up.My eyes flick around as I see that I'm being held at least three feet in the air,if I fall from here I'll break every bone in my body.I look around and see that I'm in a room I've never been in before with large shelves covered in..........rubber ducks?He laughs anxiously and says"sorry,I didn't have time to clean up but,Now presenting the magic-tasticle backflipping rubber duck!"He holds up a rubber duck, which promptly leaps up from his hand a flips over midair, and I just stare at him as he turns the duck before adding,"That also breaths fire!"And sure enough, the duck releases a burst of flame, and he sets it down before saying,"I know,it's kinda stupid. "I shake my head and say,"N-not really,I think it's pretty i-impressive."He smiles, and I grimace at the sharp teeth showing in his mouth. If I'm not careful, he's gonna be picking me out of them by tonight.He gently places me on the workshop table, and I notice a piece or what he called"cake."Sitting there when he pulls it over and leaves it in front of me.I sit there silently for a moment before he says."Dont worry,it's for you,"I quietly mutter. "T-thank you."It takes me thirty minutes to finish the piece of cake, but afterward, I notice that Lucifer is working on something.Slightly bored, I try to walk over to one of the ducks when he reaches out and picks me up.I whimper a little as he pulls me up and holds up a small toy,some kind of stuffed duck toy which feels very soft and huggable.I gently cuddle it to my chest and say"Thanks"He smiles and says"No problem......um,sorry I don't think you ever told me you're name?"I look him over looking for any reason not to tell him, but I guess that there's no point in not telling him,maybe it'll make him keep me as a pet over killing me"May,I'm May"He raises a finger to me and I put my hand out to shake it.

May POV.

I lay on Lucifers palm as he works on his newest invention before I hear his stomach growl,I notice his hand curling around me a bit and I give a smirk as I hear him say"Hey May-May......"I fake huff and say,"No, Luci,you can't. "He gives a groan and huffs at me before saying,"Pleeeeeeeeeeeease,May-May,I'll have another chocolate cake made for you. "I cross my arms and say,"A batch of brownies and you don't ask tomorrow. "He nods happily, and I sigh before grabbing Deuce,the stuffed duck that Luci gave me when we first met and walk up to him.He holds his hand out, and I step onto his palm of his hand where he pull me up to his mouth and opens his sharp teeth before laying his tongue over the bottom layer and I crawl into his mouth before he begins licking all over my body and gently gnawing on my arm.He gently suckles on me before pinning me to the roof of his mouth and swallowing excess saliva.He opens his mouth again before placing a small custom made pillow and blanket into his mouth with me and swallowing.It takes a minute or two to arrive in his crop where I cuddle to the wall as I hear him talking about his"Magic-tastical backflipping rubber duck"Before hearing his phone ring and he yells"DAUGHTER,DAUGHTER CALLING!"Oh, Satan,this'll go well.

#nonfatal vore #safe vore #soft vore #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #borrowers #accidental fearplay #mawplay #g/t #child prey

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goldenempyrean · 8 months

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A Quiet Day In

〚 Day 3 - "What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?" 〛

〚 Pairing - Kara Danvers x Reader〛

〚 Summary - You and Kara share a quiet day at home. 〛

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“I’m home.” The sound of your wife’s voice called out from the entranceway followed by the swift clicking of front door closing. Kara sighed as she finally kicked off her heavy boots, today was exhausting

“Welcome home babe.” You called lovingly from the small home office the pair of you shared, “Is that the door I just heard, how come you didn’t just use the balcony?”

It was a reasonable question. With Kara being Supergirl and all it made sense - it was faster after all.

“Yeah… flying isn’t really on the table right now.” She mumbled as she shuffled into the living room, flopping down into the comforting touch of the soft couch.

Wait? No flying? That caught your attention. You frowned as you closed the drawer, you’d been previously reorganising and came out to the living room, “What do you mean? What happened?” You asked, worry and concern seeping into your words at the sight of your obviously tuckered-out wife.

You came to sit down beside her, a much-welcomed action by the blonde who laid her head against you as she sank into your arms, “Stupid alien had kryptonite weapons, they got me pretty good.” She mumbled.

Ah. Now it made sense. Kryptonite was the one thing her otherwise invincible body crumbled to. “Then I went to walk home but this suit is freezing and the only ‘normal clothes’ I had was that stupid work dress, so I changed into that and then my legs hurt from walking because my stupid powers are basically useless right now so then I had to carpool here with random uber strangers.” Kara whined as she finished her ranting all-while you were running your hand down her arm comfortingly.

“I’m sorry Kar’ that sounds like it sucks. Did the DEO say when your powers will be back at full…er.. power?” You asked, struggling to find the correct wording. 

She shook her head against you, “Alex said possibly a few days, but they don’t know because it was ‘high potency’ whatever that means.” She finished with a wide yawn, another obvious sigh of her fatigue.

It was rare for Kara to be in such a vulnerable state, and you couldn’t help but feel protective of her. “Alright then, how about we call it a night. I mean it's pretty late anyway and you could use some sleep darling.” You offered, extending both hands to help her up.

Once inside the bedroom, you helped Kara remove her suit, carefully unzipping it and peeling it off her tired body. She sighed in relief as the restrictive fabric was removed, her muscles finally able to relax. You fetched a pair of comfortable pyjamas for her and handed them over, watching as she changed with a grateful smile.

As she settled into bed, you made sure to pull the covers snuggly over her and tucked her in gently. She nestled into the pillows, closing her eyes wearily as you leant down and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before climbing in right beside her.

You gently stroked her back, soothing her with your touch, as she drifted off to sleep. The events of the day, the pain and exhaustion, were temporarily forgotten in the safety of your love and care.

The next morning, Kara slowly opened her eyes, feeling groggy and disoriented. Her head throbbed with a dull ache, and her nose felt stuffy. You woke a few minutes later up to the sound of soft sneezes coming from beside you. Gently opening your eyes, you turned to see Kara sitting up in bed, her nose slightly red and her hand holding a crumpled-up tissue.

"Goodmorning and bless you," you mumbled sleepily as you slowly woke up and you reached out to brush a strand of hair away from her face. "Do your powers feeling like they’re getting stronger now you’ve slept?”

Kara sniffled and shrugged, her voice sounding audibly congested. "Not really and I think I'm catching a cold on top of everything else."

“What happened to your phenomenal immune system, hm?” You asked curiously, the only time you’d ever seen Kara sick was years ago back when she was assistant to Cat Grant so seeing her all red-cheeked and sniffly wasn’t something you were used to.

Your wife groaned as she sank back down into bed and sniffled into her pillow, “Well without my powers at full capacity my immune system has the strength of a dying battery.” 

“Well then, if you powers need a little boost do you think it’d be a good idea to go to the DEO and sit with their solar lamps for a bit, see if that recharges them? Alex will probably know how to take care of you a little better there too.” 

To your surprise though Kara shook her head and instead curled up into you, prompting you to take her into your arms, not caring as she sniffled against your neck. “I don’t want to go to DEO today.” She mumbled, her voice muffled from the way she refused to lift her head from your body, “I just wanna be with you, no agents, Alex or J’onn fussing.” Her voice hitched off as she turned away from you to sneeze and the small adorable noise of annoyance she made afterwards made your heart melt a little. How could she be so cute?

“So, you just want a quiet day in then?” You murmured, receiving a subtle nod in return, “Well then, I think we can manage that.”

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sigmoon · 8 months

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𓇢𓆸 Wildflowers under the summer rain

Chapter three: Lily Of The Valley

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x reader

cw: PTSD flashbacks (sexual abuse), mentions of depression, a panic attack, y/n is not doing well, but is back at girlbossing at the end of the chapter. However, if descriptions of PTSD symptoms and panic attacks make you feel uncomfortable or trigger you, please skip this chapter.

Lying on the uncomfortably cool floor of the small room Fyodor gave you as your own, you focused on the feeling of your back against the hard concrete and the goosebumps that spread across your skin. On days like this, when you felt like gravity was weighing down on your body much heavier than usual, it was easier to just submit to the feeling and lie down on the floor in a starfish position, your limbs sprawled out as you stared holes into the ceiling. Inhaling deeply and releasing your breath in a shaky exhale, you closed your eyes and fought the urge to do what you felt like doing the most right now.

But then again, you were far too weak and heavy to even bother to get up from the floor, walk towards the drawer next to your bed, and take out the small handgun that Fyodor had insisted you’d carry with you. “Just in case of emergencies,” he'd explained. “Besides, take it as a sign of my trust.”

You had only left your room once today, for a brief trip to the bathroom and back, sending some nasty glares toward your new colleagues, the whole insufferable bunch.

You already felt like going right back to sleep after waking up with the familiar heavy weight on your chest this morning, and after your stroll through the headquarters, which took longer than planned, since you couldn't find the bathroom in this stupid, intricate tunnel system, you went right back into your room and locked the door behind you before you lay down on the floor. You didn’t know how many hours had passed since then, as you remained on the cold surface and didn’t bother to stand up even once. Was it yesterday's conversation that weighed down on you? Or still the aftermath of the events of the past few months haunting you like ghosts of the past? You had many of those, after all, and they were all painfully loyal, paying you regular visits that you never asked for. Whatever it was, you weren't able to think a single clear thought, anyway.

Not when you felt him on you again. Those vile hands, no, claws, caressing your skin and leaving it burning like someone poured acid on it. The firm embrace around your torso squeezed you so tightly against a repulsive body that you could swear you heard your ribcage crunch and crack, and the hot, humid breath against your neck, heavy and rapid. And that smell, a mix of cheap aftershave and cigarettes, that made you gag when you even thought about it, filled your nostrils and took your breath; like the sensation of inhaling some poisonous gas. You could feel yourself stiffening up, wondering for how long you haven’t inhaled or exhaled, holding it until you felt dizzy before starting to breathe again, in short, rapid gasps. You felt like a fish on land, eyes wide and full of panic, your mouth half agape, fighting for some oxygen. You felt that old burning sensation between your thighs again, one that made you feel disgusted by your own body, vulnerable, wanting to tie your legs together with a rope and never open them again. You felt dizzy and the lamp on your bedroom ceiling was spinning in circles, hypnotizing you and pulling you even deeper into whatever it was that you spiraled into once again. Was your entire room spinning? Or did your eyeballs leave your skull, bouncing through your room like ping-pong balls? Your body felt so restless that you felt like you had to jump up from the floor and climb up your walls, but the thought alone, of sitting up straight, was enough to make you feel so weak that even breathing was exhausting.

You traced a few shaky fingers over your chest, aching to sink your fingertips into your flesh, carve your ribcage open, and tear out whatever rotten stuff was buried deep inside you and caused you to drown in sorrow day and night.

You only snapped out of your trance when, with a particularly sharp inhale, you choked on a drop of your saliva and abruptly sat up, coughing and gasping for air. Trembling, you cleared your throat a last time and then brought a hand to your collar, tugging on it in a desperate attempt to make the agonizing tightness in your throat go away, a feeling of a hand around it, slowly squeezing tighter and tighter, but never hard enough to grant you the final relief that the lack of oxygen would bring you.

You felt cold and weak and realized that you haven’t eaten or had any water for hours. With wobbly legs, you stood up, tightly grasping the edge of your desk and slowly breathing in and out, when Fyodor's words from yesterday rang in your ears. He was right. You had the power to do what countless other people, innocent victims of god knows what will never be able to do; make the world a little more just. Delivering appropriate punishments to those who deserve it, so the poor souls of their victims can finally find rest. And here you were again, wallowing in self-pity and squirming on your bedroom floor like a damsel in distress, praying for someone to come and save you from your demons. As much as Fyodor's lecturing angered you, you knew very well that indeed nobody was going to come and save you. There was no helping hand in sight, no white knight, nothing at all. Not even Fyodor was there to help you. Deep down you knew that your most loyal companions were the demons that lived inside you like parasites, sinking their teeth and claws into your heart. Trying to get rid of them was a futile attempt, you knew that by now. The only option you really had, was befriending the demons and becoming one of them, finding someone else they could maul, someone like him, who deserved to be shredded to pieces. As long as they had a desperate soul to torment, the demons didn't care who it was. You or anybody else, it didn't matter to them. And this was your chance. If using your ability to break others who deserved it provided you and other victims with a bit of peace and satisfaction, you were willing to do so. Regardless if it were people that Fyodor chose, and if he was only using your ability for his own benefit at the end of the day.

Every rational thought was drowning in bloodlust, with no trace of morality left when your mind was running and your teeth were grinding. "Fuck it," you murmured to yourself and walked towards the door. Before leaving your room, you looked into your mirror and studied your own face. Puffy and swollen from crying, flushed, and an expression of dark determination contorting your features into a grimace that barely looked like a familiar face to you anymore. Your eyes seemed dull and empty, but in your irises swirled the essence of unhappiness and a small spark of hesitance and doubt whether you were making the right choice. But you quickly blinked it away, straightened your back, and stepped out of your room.

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Hio’s note: Please remember that everyone experiences PTSD differently and that what I write is fictional and written through my lens and not everyone will relate to it or feel like it's "accurate". This chapter and the entire series are a piece of fiction, not a description of reality or actions/choices/behaviors I think are good or healthy. I don’t mean to romanticize the dark contents I write in any way. The reader's character is an OC, a character I created, and not an example of healthy coping or good life choices. Please stay safe and reach out for support if you need to.

I hope you liked the chapter regardless and look forward to the next!

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