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starshiningsirius · 3 years

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Like old times (Yandere Azul x reader)

@bryzie27 - i like what you did with overblot leona. could you do something similar with overblot azul?

Not sure what you mean like the chase scene? The dynamics of Octanivelle's structure still aren't quite clear to me if they can go out in the water but I'll try!

I FORGOT THE GIF IS FROM @flowerofthemoonworld !

Let's give the octopus some love!

"Hey, your Azul right?"

He lifted his head to look at who had spoken to him. It was a mermaid with a strange speckled tail that added to her beauty. She seemed to be more of the reserved type. Her hair had two streaks of the same color on either side of her face and the rest was all one color. Her eyes shimmered radiantly.

He could feel a rush of heat claim his entire face.

"Here." She handed him his books.

"W -why are you doing this?" The young octopus sniffled.

He wasn't expecting this, not with the way everyone else treated him. It didn't make any sense why you'd treat him kindly. A freakish eight legged merman who couldn't swim correctly.

"It's the right thing to do, Azul. I couldn't just swim away with you like this. It'd be immoral."

From that first encounter on forward they became friends. She helped him walk and swim a bit better considering he found it embarrassing. She didn't even have tentacles yet she instructed him so well.. Maybe he inked once or twice, a few times around her on accident, he swears! It didn't matter she was fine with it. She didn't mind one bit who he was.

Even when they went to the Atlantica Museum she stayed by his side and explored it with him. He was a bit slow considering his physique was on the chubby side so he wasn't fast. It still didn't matter, for some odd reason she stayed with him. In the picture commemorating the trip he held her hand since he was a bit self conscious about his picture being taken.

Y/n couldn't help but find it adorable. Everything about Azul wasn't at all strange to her it only made her more curious to get to know him. He would always apologize for any small thing he did wrong. She would always say, "It's fine." as if he did nothing. Her smile always seemed to brighten Azul's darkest days.

She'd visit him in his family restaurant in which his mother and father always welcomed his first friend. They were overjoyed. She saw him gorging himself on the plate of food in front of him compared to her smaller portion. She couldn't help but to stare, it made her understand why he was on the chubby side. Then he looked at her sauce around his mouth and she couldn't help but smile at him with laughter filling the area. He was embarrassed blushing a shade of red and he felt a bit ashamed.

"Azulie, you're absolutely adorable!" She said through her laughter.

It was one of his most fondest memories he ever had with her, but all good things had to come to an end.

Eventually she had to depart from the northern seas to the far southern ones. She had to leave Azul behind. She had given him a hug it was full of so much warmth of which he had never felt before and it made his heart race twice as fast. Both parents of the children found it endearing their children had found a friend.

. . .

And that was that. Time passed and he eventually became Azul Ashengrotto the dorm leader of Octanivelle who could grant any wish just as the sea witch. He could never ever forget the one person he was so fond of though. It never left him every time he wrote down a contract he could remember a time where he truly did care for someone.

The new year at Night Raven was his second year while a new group of first years came entering the school. He had ordered Jade to get information on each of them and when he went through the long list of students that had been sorted into Octanivelle while in his office. He immediately crossed one oh so familiar.

Y/n L/n.

He couldn't believe his eyes. He put the sheet of paper down and opened one of his drawers in the desk that showed him and her back then. He never altered this photo as he did countless others. She accepted him for who he was and that was well enough a reason for him to admire her.

He automatically called upon Jade as Floyd would have probably scared the poor girl. He told him to fetch her immediately.

When he finally did see her for the first time in years he was astounded at how you changed so little but so much at the same time. You had grown taller and your eyes still sparkled just as they always did. You had the same two streaks on either side of your hair which had grown a few inches he might add.

Jade had left to do other tasks he was assigned but Azul couldn't care less seeing as he had his childhood friend and sweetheart in front of him.

"Azulie, that really is you huh?" Your voice had matured but was more timid just like the very first time they met. Of course it was so long ago that they're more like strangers now. That nickname though, it's been a long time since he's heard it.

"Yes, I've changed quite a bit." He was a little nervous though he'd never admit it his voice slightly betrayed him and his face had a little red tint. He tried pushing up his glasses to shield it from her eyes but it was a futile attempt. He heard her chuckle that made his heart race like never before.

"You haven't changed fully as your still the most adorable by far." She said.

That made his face blossom as red as a rose in the rose maze of Heartsbyul. Heat was exerting itself from his still body that he sat in the chair from.

From that moment on he would keep a watchful eye on her. He would always try his best when she was around and get any info on anything going on pertaining to her.

She had met Floyd and Jade before who Azul wasn't too fond of at first, but she reccomended he became friends with them back then since it wasn't everyday someone didn't come up to tease him and noticed his accomplishments. Of course it was only because of Azul that they met again at Night Raven. The first time she met Jade was when he first brought her to see Azul in his office. He looked familiar to her and she mentioned it to him, and they both shared their fondest memories on the way. She met Floyd a little later on in the Mostro Lounge as he had taken her order and he noticed she had come in a lot just to see Azul. Jade had to explain the situation that she wasn't required to pay for any food she ate there because of an order Azul had given out.

Azul would spend some time out of the day to just hang out with you if he wasn't always busy with the lounge. It was always a joy to be with you, it reminded him of when you were both younger. He thought back to those days every night and day that you had still never left his mind. The thought of you leaving again made him lose his sense of reason and fall deeper in his sweet obsession.

He had started to act different you noticed. He had become a bit more invasive of your personal space in which you remember that only happened when he was nervous at least you thought he grew out of it.

Jade and Floyd began to direct you to the Lounge like your life was there and no where else. It'd only be a matter of time before Azul was informed by Jade of his sweetheart's newest infatuation.

Vil happened to catch your attention. It led Azul to be green with envy. He knew the dorm leader of Pomeifore had complimented her one day and it was enough to send her falling head over heels. He had so many followers it made no sense why he had to take something else Azul had wanted for the longest time. With Vil's beauty he only began to question his own.

He had to come up with a solution just as he had done for those bullies. He just couldn't lose Y/n again. Not if he had any say in it.

After hours of pondering in his office sinking his nails into his desk the answer happened to be right behind him. The vault that was situated behind his desk held the many contracts he had collected.

Maybe if he could impress her she wouldn't see him as that stupid, clumsy octopus he once was. All these different magic spells that he obtained from those fools from the exams on land in Night Raven and those idiots who swam under the sea.

That's when his plan fell apart. Y/n avoided him all of a sudden. Mainly having spent time with those troublesome first years he sent to the museum to collect one of the last remnants of his past.

He didn't have time to keep thinking about Y/n at the moment which irritated him quite a bit. One thing led to another and now he was out here trying to negotiate with the arrogant and prideful dorm head of Savanclaw. As soon as he destroyed them all hope was lost.

He was taunting him, but his next few words really took him over the top in terms of a sadistic being.

"You know, one of your little sea friends really wanted to believe you were nice. We just had to show her the real Azul Ashengrotto." Leona had smirked turning his head to the side, beyond the corner of the tunnel his darling angelfish had appeared. Disbelief in her eyes, she couldn't even meet his eyes.

That's when everyone else had arrived, but the deed was already done. He had lost everything and his angelfish had seen him as a weak being, the same stupid clumsy octopus he hated being.

They took her from his side. He had her in his grasp and they stole her. He had lost it.

His newborn and unimaginable power were apparent now. He just had to get it all back. Not even Floyd or Jade wanted to help him either.

He reminded himself of you holding your pen ready to fire another offensive attack. His anger swelled inside him where he could tap into more power.

"GIVE HER BACK TO ME! GIVE ME BACK WHAT YOU TOOK! "

A large swarm of harsh black wind had overwhelmed the group. She still managed to stand but when the dust cleared she saw all of them had collapsed unconscious. Even the prefect who was thrown back the farthest had their head hit the tunnel, it didn't look like she was breathing from here though.

She took a look back at Azul and suddenly she felt her feet carrying her away from the scene, having Azul call out to her from behind.

* * *

It's been a while since she had to swim that fast. Her tail fin was starting to hurt from the constant movement. She wanted to take a break, a never ending nightmare she pleaded in her head to be over.

That was until she heard him calling for her.

"Oh Angelfish! You really have nothing to fear! Come out I promise I won't hurt you!" He said in a sing songy voice.

She was hiding behind a large boulder on the sea floor near a small coral reef.

"Am I not enough anymore?! I'LL DO ANYTHING TO PROVE IT! I'M NOT THE SAME AS BEFORE, YOU DON'T HAVE TO LOOK AFTER ME! " The tone of voice he had scared her even more so now that she was alone.

"I'm not, ... I'm not that stupid clumsy little octopus anymore." He sounded as if he were about to cry, it pulled at her heartstrings a bit and she thought she could convince him to calm down in this state.

"Azulie I never-"

"There you are! " He said with glee and delight in his tone, that never would have made you think he was sad in the first place.

He successfully guilt tripped her into coming out of hiding. Using his tentacles he pulled her by the tail toward him careful to avoid giving her any injuries. He grasped her in his arms feeling himself relax a bit, at the fact he had her in his grasp once again. She felt warm just as she did all those years ago for him.

He clasped her hands together with his. A deranged smile on his face as he stared into the soul of his adorable little angelfish who shivered under such an intense gaze radiating his madness.

"We'll be together again! Just like old times! Except this time I'm all powerful and no one will be able to steal what's mine!"

Masterlist

#twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #floyd leech

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kerie-prince · 3 years

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change of pace

Fred Weasley x Slytherin!reader

requested: (@pinkdevile) hey bae, can i request a one shot or headcanon about fred being whipped by one of ron classmates that is a non-pureblood slytherin and kind of prodigy in magic and how would he react to her being a typical dry slytherin and being a prodigy and good at everything?

summary: What happens when a red lion who lives in the moment falls for a green snake with plans for her future? Romance, of course.

a/n: stereotypical, yes but i had fun writing this :) also, i know my posting schedule keeps changing, so sorry about that 🥺 i got lots of requests (thank you guys SO much!) and i'm trying to not make them all sound the same. i'm looking up synonyms and all that stuff lol

(gif cred)

You were the least Slytherin person in your house. But maybe that's made you even more of a Slytherin. Your traits were that of a typical member of the house of snakes. No, you weren't a rude bitch; you had ambition that rivaled that of a Gryffindor and it wasn't even one of their traits. You aimed for the stars and your pride proved that you could do that and more. You are the best witch of your class, and maybe even your school.

And it was this reputation that caught the attention of someone who is quite the polar opposite. You were calm and collected. He was a wild card and unpredictable. Fred Weasley had his eyes on you and was going crazy for you. It all started when one day, he was with his friends and brothers in the Great Hall during lunch when you had walked up to Ron and Harry, “Hey Ron, were my notes able to help you?”

“Yeah, loads. Thank you, Y/N.” Lee was in the middle of a conversation with his best friends when he noticed Fred wasn't responding to anything he was saying. “Mate, you okay?” When you walked to your table, Fred scooted closer to his younger brother, “Dearest brother, how are you?”

“What do you want?” Ron saw right through him. He knew when Fred wanted something from him, just like now.

“Well I’m offended that you would assume something,” Fred held a hand over his chest with a fake offended look on his face, “can’t a person ask about the well being of his baby brother?” Ron had a deadpan expression and Harry was laughing at Fred’s exaggeration. “Fair enough. Who was that?”

“Who? Y/N? She’s in mine and Harry’s class, why?” Ron had taken a large bite from his turkey leg.

“What’s she like?” Fred inquired. Ron thought about it for a minute, “Dunno, she’s pretty quiet.”

“If I didn't know any better, I’d say that Freddie here fancies someone,” George teased. The surrounding friends laugh and point towards Fred. “I don’t fancy anyone. I’m just asking a simple question.”

Hermione and Ginny later joined the group. “What’s all this fuss about?” Hermione questioned.

“Fred’s asking about Y/L/N,” Harry caught Hermione up to speed. “Why? You’re not thinking of doing anything to her, are you?” Hermione started to scold the older boy.

“Why is it that you lot always think I’m up to no good,” Fred sighed.

“Because you’ve never been up to any good,” Ginny teased her older brother. Fred rolled his eyes and turned back to try and find you at your table. You had a couple of friends with you and a small book in your hand as you ate. Fred was determined to get your attention somehow.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

You sat in the library by yourself. You had spent the majority of the afternoon grading first years’ papers for Snape’s class and working with Hermione and Katie on a project for Ancient Runes. Giving up your weekends to study wasn't all that bad. The feeling of being on top was rewarding.

It was funny; your parents had stopped caring about your grades all together because they already knew what they were going to read. Not that they weren't supportive or proud of you. At family gatherings on your father’s side, he loved seeing the looks on his relatives’ faces when he boasted that you were the best student at Hogwarts.

But they have told you on many occasions that it wouldn't kill you to have at least one E. They wanted you to be able to have a normal teen life and have fun. Go to parties, get in trouble every now and then. You assured them that you were fine and all and even believed it yourself. You never had interest in breaking the pattern you had set.

The library was nearing its closing time and you packed your things. When you walked out the grand doors, a tall figure came in front of you and nearly knocked down all the books you carried. His hands caught whatever you couldn't hold before it hit the floor.

“Sorry about that,” you looked up at the towering boy. Your breath slightly hitched at the sight of his attractive face. His cheekbones were defined and his skin looked soft. You didn’t realize that you were staring, nor that he was also staring at you as well. Finally, he spoke up and handed you the book he was holding for you. “I believe this is for you.”

His mouth moved, but you were so distracted that it didn't occur to you he had actually said anything until you saw him looking at you expectedly. “Oh, thank you.” You started heading towards the dungeons when he jogged towards and stopped in front of you. “Aren’t you in the same class as Ron?”

“Yes, how did you know that?”

“I saw you talk to him the other day,” he told you. “I’m Fred.” He reached to shake your hands but then pulled it back when he remembered that your hands were full at the moment.

Ah, so this is Fred you thought. You've heard of him, who hasn't? Years of being at Hogwarts, tales of him and his equally devilish brother creating havoc around campus have traveled from one student to another. How you two had never seen one another until this point was surprising. It’s not like Hogwarts was a large school, but it wasn't small either.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N.” You nodded your head towards him to replace a handshake. Ten seconds of silence caused you to walk past him and return to the path to the dungeons. “W-wait!” Fred called out.

He stood in front of you once again, one of his hands positioned in front of you to block you from walking past him again. “Would you like to get a butterbeer tomorrow?”

If there was anything you didn't like, it was being put on the spot. And another thing? Your routine being disturbed. Your Sunday was all planned out. Helping Sprout with her greenhouse to earn extra house points, tutoring some younger years, and getting a head start on your homework that wasn't even due for another week.

“I’m sorry, but no.” You gave him an apologetic smile as you walked away. Once again, he ran in front of you but this time merged with you and actually caused all of your books to fall.

“Merlin, I’m so sorry,” he bent down to help you pick them up. Fred usually isn't this clumsy or nervous. He usually charms his way through anything, but he was becoming like putty out of nowhere. “Okay, well what about Honeydukes next Saturday?”

“Sorry, but no again.” You started walking away for the nth time and turned around to look at him for the last time, “Please don’t follow me again.” And you were gone. But did this mean that Fred gave up on any chance he had? No. Far from it. If anything, it gave him reason to want to try harder.

He walked all the way to the Gryffindor house and luckily found Hermione studying in the common room with Pavarti and Lavender. There was a spot open next to her and when Ginny was about to take the spot, Fred grabbed her arm and pulled her away to steal the seat.

“Um, excuse you, I was going to sit–”

“Tell me everything you can about Y/N,” Fred interrupted his sister.

✿✿✿✿✿✿

He had tried to learn as much as he could about you. Fred learned that you had the top grades. Much like Harry did, you had learned the Patronus Charm before not only before your own class, but even Fred’s charms class. Your dad's a wizard, and your mum's a muggle. But most importantly, you were a picture perfect student, and although you didn't have any apparent hobbies, you picked up just about everything with ease.

A couple of weeks had passed and every other day, Fred had made any type of excuse to come see you.

‘Oh, my next class is in this direction’ It wasn't.

‘I like that book, too!’ You were, in fact, not holding a book but your personal journal.

‘Funny running into you here!’ It was in the Great Hall during breakfast.

Now, you didn't hate these interactions. They didn't do anything to your routine, and they were actually cute attempts to get your attention. But you didn't think you had any time for anything else. Or anyone else.

“You should give him a chance, Y/N/N. Live a little. I think the top student can take a bit of time for herself at least once,” your friend Millicent advised. Astoria agreed with her, “He’s cute~.” You slightly blushed in your book and pushed their arms away.

“I’ve never been on a date before,” you whispered. The two girls looked at each other confused before turning back to look at you. “Huh?”

“I’ve never been on a date before!” You flinched when you realized your voice was louder than intended. Your friends laughed when you looked towards the Gryffindor table to make sure Fred didn't hear you. He was talking to his friends, so that meant he didn't. Only he did, but felt your eyes on him so he pretended he didn't.

“So this is the perfect reason to go out with him! Go ask him out,” Millie pushed. She was persistently tapping on your arm until you eventually stood up. You took a deep breath to gather confidence and walked towards the table of red and gold.

When Fred's eyes met yours, you turned around and walked out of the Hall. He stood up from his seat and chased after you. He kept bumping into people, including Filch in the hallways. Filch yelled for him to stop, but of course Fred ignored him and kept going.

Momentarily, he lost you in the crowd of mixed color robes until he saw you sitting by yourself on a bench under a tree. He walked towards your direction and asked you with his eyes if he could take the seat next to you. You scooted down more to let the tall boy sit down.

Neither of you said anything for a few moments. You fiddled with your fingers on your lap and he stared up at the sky. “Nice day, innit?” Fred started the conversation. “Yes, it is.”

“Good weather to go walking around Hogsmeade” Fred tried one last attempt in asking you out.

“It would be,” you accepted.

He let out a sigh in defeat, “I know I ask a lot, but maybe just this once– wait, what did you say?” You looked up at him and smiled for the first time. His heart skipped a beat and the butterflies fluttered about inside.

“I’ll go with you.” He was so excited that he jumped up and did an air punch of victory. You laughed to yourself and when he looked at you, you had an eyebrow raised. He blushed in embarrassment and scratched the back of his neck. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Promptly at 2 in the afternoon in front of the Slytherin dorms. Don’t be late,” you stood up with confidence. You walked back to the Hall to tell your friends, cheeks warmed and ears blushing. “So?” Astoria asked.

“It’s just a date, that's it,” you sounded nonchalant about it, but the smile on your face said differently. You were excited for your day with Fred and for all, unpredictable adventures to come.

A much needed change of pace.

—

requests open!

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #requested #requests open #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter imagine #fred x you #fred x reader #fred x slytherin!reader #fred x y/n

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alottanothing · 3 years

Text

Kismet

Summary: Evie prepares a meal for the stranger who helped her and finds herself more than a little smitten.

Previous Part: Hope

Word Count: 5707

Warnings: Language

Tag List: @ramilicious, @txmel, @edteche2, @gloriousdarkangelsworld, @diasimar, @xmxisxforxmaybe (Let me know if I missed you, or if you would like to be added to the tag list)

A/N: Okay, I almost didn't get this up today because I was up most of the night sewing kilts for Highland Weekend at the Ohio Renfiare. BUT I stayed awake and did my final read-through, so this should be mostly okay. I skipped a couple steps in my editing to get this up on time but I think, for the most part, it's okay. If you see a grammatical booboo, just ignore it, I'll get in here sometime this week with my other two editing steps and find it, then repost this. Capisce? Okay, cool...now. I hope you enjoy it, I also hope my trying to phonetically write Mer's accent doesn't get too annoying. I know you really shouldn't write accents, but I think it helps add to the characters. And I do try to keep it to a minimum so it doesn't get annoying. Thanks for the love the first part received last month! I know waiting so long between updates is a bit sad after weekly updates with LtR. But life is busy right now and once a month is all can guarantee.

Jonny did not know how to keep a house.

In fact, Jonny did not know how to do much more than drink, argue, and get into fights. He was nothing but a thorn in Evie's side—never mind how much she needed him for a place to lay her head. A necessary thorn was still a thorn. Given the opportunity, she would rip it out as soon as she could and dress the wound promptly so she was finally able to heal better. She stayed only because she had no other choice. And every time Jonny raised his voice or stumbled in reeking of alcohol and red-faced, Evie could hear her best friend's warning in her head. Cynthia had begged her not to go with him, but she hadn't listened.

Oh, how she wished she had.

Luckily, Jonny wasn't the kind of man who liked to stay home which eased the ache of the ever-present thorn in her side. Whatever money he did have, he spent out on the town—the town being New Orleans. Like Evie, Jonny had been born and raised in the Big Apple, the noise and the chaos was part of him. As such, he hadn't taken to the quiet suburban life Bridge City offered as well as Evie. She liked the quiet, easy flow of the sleepy town. Her housemate loathed his new home. He thrived in disarray, thus, he found a group of like-minded young men to run amok with in the neighboring metropolis every chance he got.

If Jonny had been any sort of amicable company, the notion of him leaving most every night to wreak havoc several miles away would have been upsetting. Thankfully, his penchant for city life meant a good portion of Evie's days were spent out from under Jonny's tyranny. The hours he was gone were blissful and calm, and she relished in them. Whether she was creating art or tending to chores around the old house, Evie didn't care as long as Jonny wasn't there—never mind how lonely the routine often was.

Evie had never gotten the chance to meet Jonny's maternal grandmother, though she suspected she would have liked to. Unlike her grandson, she seemed like any other sweet elderly woman judging by the furnishings she'd left behind. There were dozens of lace doilies, and table cloths with soft patterns, decretive china even, but it was the plethora of photos the old woman kept that told Evie she'd carried a kindly heart. All of them were kept in pristine albums or intricate frames; they were the only barbles that seemed to have been cleaned or dusted with any regularity which spoke of how much she must have treasured them. Evie loved those tiny trinkets and black and white memories. It didn't matter that they were not her legacy of family heirlooms to keep, she adored them anyway.

She couldn't count the number of times she'd replaced a broken frame that had fallen victim to Jonny's drunken belligerence or scrubbed tirelessly at a stain he'd left on the patterned tablecloths. It proved to be a hefty undertaking, but dwelling in the fantasies of someone else's history let her forget the grief of her own. She was willing to sacrifice a little elbow grease if it allowed her mind to roam away from the shadow that never really seemed to vanish.

For all the effort Evie put in on the interior, the cottage held little in the way of curb appeal. The porch was sunken in the middle, the paint was peeling off in chunks, and the yard was mostly weeds. Worst, however, was the screen door which squeaked so loudly, every dog in the neighborhood howled in protest every time someone crossed the threshold. The outside needed love that Evie simply didn't have the energy to lend. Despite the grit, however, the foundations were sturdy enough that she didn't worry. The cottage proved to be stronger than she looked—a feat Evie felt she had in common with the old house. And while it was a swell enough place to rest her head, it never truly felt like home. Home was somewhere safe, and as long as Jonny lived under that roof she wasn't safe. Not really.

Fortunately, Jonny wasn't home when Evie returned after her run-in with Mr. Shelton—Mer, she corrected herself with a hint of a giddy smile. Without her housemate there, her evening promised to be hopeful instead of lonely, and she wasted no time in figuring out what to make for dinner.

With her red pumps replaced by her worn-in slippers and her blue checkered apron secured around her waist, she set a pot of water to boil and dialed the phone conveniently located in the kitchen. Every evening she called her sister-in-law to pass the time and keep up on unimportant gossip back home; this time, however, Evie was excited to finally have some good news to share.

"You got the job, didn't you?" Cynthia Clarke asked on the other end, sounding hopeful. "I knew you would."

Evie grinned, still amazed how the sound of Cyn's voice always seemed to settle some of the ever-present anxieties buzzing in her head. She missed her friend so much.

"I didn't even say yes."

"Did you or did you not get the job?" Cynthia pressed.

"I did," Evie confirmed and her smile grew hearing her friend cheer on the other end of the phone.

"See! I knew it." Cynthia said. "My gut feeling is always right."

Evie rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly.

"I think I'm gonna like working there too, so that's good." she mused as she stood at the stove, eyeing the pot of water she’d set to boil.

"That's so great, Ev. I'm so proud of you." Cynthia paused before continuing. "So, what are you up to tonight? Avoiding Jonny?"

"Sorta," Evie nodded even though she knew her friend wouldn't see.

As she continued to watch her cooking pot of water she told Cynthia all about her trouble with Jonny's car and the man who'd been so kind to help her.

"Wait. You invited the stranger over who fixed the car?" Concern was heavy in Cyn's voice, and Evie half expected a lecture to follow.

Despite knowing each other since childhood, Cynthia had taken on the role of her protector since Evie's family was no longer in the picture. The war had claimed Evie's father, and brother—although they'd never found her brother, Jimmy after he disappeared behind enemy lines. Evie never lost hope that Jimmy would one day be found, Cynthia though, was certain her husband was never coming home. After Cyn’s brother, Charlie, died at Normandy Cynthia had difficulty believing anyone was going to make it home. As for Evie's mother, losing a child and her husband to the war was too much for her tender heart and she passed not long after. Ever since, Cynthia was overcome with the need to act as Evie's guardian.

"He wouldn't let me pay him," Evie explained. "So I'm making him dinner—it seemed like the least I could do."

"I suppose…." Cynthia didn't sound convinced, if anything she sounded slightly irritated there was no quick way for her to argue the logic. "Just be careful, Evie. You don't know this guy—he could be another Jonny Doyle. Or worse."

"He's not," Evie said quickly. She wanted nothing more than to tell her friend all about how benevolent Mer was, but she decided against it. Cynthia would only argue that point somehow.

A long pause followed, and Evie wedged the receiver between her ear and shoulder so her hands were free to work on the meal.

"So, what are you cooking?" This time, there was a hint of jest in her friend's tone when she spoke.

The art of cooking was one creative outlet that Evie struggled with, second only to music. In her youth, her mother did all the cooking—it was a passion of her mother's—thus Evie had done little more than watch in wonder as her mother whipped up meal after meal effortlessly. Breakfast she the meal she was probably best at, apple pies too, but anything beyond that Evie required a step by step guide to prepare. And even then she lacked confidence. Thankfully, when she'd fled south, she remembered to grab her mother's cookbook. It was a cumbersome tome with yellowed pages and notes scribbled into the margins: a piece of art itself cultivated over years of collecting recipe after recipe starting the moment her mother stepped off the boat that brought her from Ireland. And like a witch and her spellbook, Evie depended on it.

"Spaghetti with garlic bread," Evie admitted feeling as though the meal lacked a certain something.

Pasta was something she knew held a low degree of difficulty when it came to preparing. Surely she couldn't mess up pasta.

“Mmm, I can almost smell it,” Cynthia said.

“Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Cyn replied. “You’re mom’s spaghetti recipe was always my favorite.”

A doleful smile pulled at the corners of her lips, thinking back to her mother happily cooking in the kitchen as she sang a Celtic tune. It seemed strange that those moments would never again play out, instead they’d become bittersweet memories Evie could only relive in her mind.

“Mine too,” she murmured, suddenly missing her family.

Neither of them said anything for a moment, and Evie’s mind roamed the dregs of her grief before blinking back into reality and the hope of something happy to come.

“I need to go, Cyn,” Evie told her friend with a sigh. “I don’t want to burn the garlic bread.”

Cynthia chuckled and said her goodbye, only after making Evie promise to call her in the morning to let her know how everything went.

With her second hand restored after hanging up, Evelyn reached for her mother’s cookbook to give the steps another look over to ensure she had done everything and added every herb and ingredient she was supposed to. She’d followed everything perfectly, even factoring in the little notes scribbled into the margins left there by her mother—those she smiled at fondly and traced the fading ink with her fingers. Everything was as it should be. Even so, without a taste, Evie knew the sauce she had prepared would never be as savory as what her mother made so effortlessly.

“You were the artist in the kitchen, Ma,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stick to paper and canvas.”

For the smallest of a moment Evie thought she would hear the warmth of her mother’s laugh, and when it never came she sighed again, trying not to dwell on the shadows behind her. What mattered was the light ahead.

Despite her lack of confidence, the meal came together without any severe hiccups. The noodles were not overcooked, the sauce was a complementing mix of savory and sweet (though, as she had guessed after a tiny taste, was not nearly as good as her mother's) and the garlic bread was nicely golden. A small tingle of pride manifested in the form of a surprised, but satisfied, smile as she surveyed the dinner before her.

“Not bad, Ev,” she told herself, knowing her mother would have been delighted.

With the cooking done, Evie threw a glance over her shoulder to the clock mounted on the wall, triggering a surge of anxiety to bubble in her gut. Stranger, perhaps, was the amount of excitement coursing through her veins. It was as though all of her happiness was riding on whether or not she would see Merriell again. None of it made sense; the man was little more than a stranger. The coupling of nerves and delight was not a feeling that put her ill at ease, however. She trusted it. And it was that peculiar sensation that seemed to fuel her movements.

With a few minutes to spare, Evie wandered into the small bathroom to freshen up. She made sure her hair was still pinned the way she liked—up and pretty. Her make-up was holding up nicely despite the heat; all she needed was a fresh layer of lipstick to complete the illusion of a put-together young lady. It wasn't often she wore a dress with heels and a face of cosmetics—she liked to when the opportunity arose, but she was just as comfortable in a pair of old overalls and smudges of charcoal on her face.

Just as she wiggled back into her red pumps—discarding her worn-in house slippers with a couple of calculated kicks—a knock on the door signaled Merriells arrival. Immediately a grin curled onto Evie's lips and her heart began to pound an anxious-excited rhythm. A blush threatened to color her cheeks to give away the torrid muscle beating in her chest—her ever yearning heart already making leaps and bounds for a man she had known for mere hours.

Don't be ridiculous—she warned herself taking in a deep breath to curb the eagerness coursing in her veins. Untying her apron, she tossed it along with her discarded slippers and went to answer the door, taking one last deep breath to steady the fervor in her heart.

Merriell had changed and showered. The sweet bouquet of his shampoo coupled invitingly with the musk of the aftershave he'd chosen, making it difficult for Evie to keep from soaking in the scent he carried. His curls were still somewhat damp—too much moisture in the air to keep the heat from drying them on his way over—though they fought to spring back into their previous fluff. The grease-covered, jeans he'd been wearing had been replaced by a nice pair of tan slacks, and the buttoned shirt he wore was a soft shade of green that made his eyes glitter a deeper emerald as he stood under the glow of the porch light. All Evie could do was stare—utterly beguiled—every rational thought in her head lost to her.

Mer smirked, amused by her ogling. "Hiya."

Evie blinked, coming back to reality, suddenly feeling foolish, and uttered a nervous "hi" before swinging her arm to invite him inside.

"Come in."

Merriell's smile grew as he crossed the threshold, inhaling deeply. "Mm, smells tasty in here."

He gently forced a bottle into her hands as he passed on his way to investigate the savory smells in the kitchen.

"I wasn' sho what ya was makin', but I figured wine usually goes with anythin'."

"Oh, thank you." Evie glanced at the label, unable to read the French words printed there. "You didn't have to bring anything."

"I know," Mer shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make a good impression."

There was something almost boyish when he smiled then—cheeks coloring pink ever-so-slightly—that made him even more of a mystery. One Evie was eager to solve.

"Well," she said placing the bottle on the kitchen table. "It should go perfectly with dinner."

His expression lost a hint of its boyish charm as it grew into a look of delight.

"Make yourself at home," Evie gestured vaguely between the table and the sofa in the living room as she ventured to the cabinet where the stemware was kept.

She placed two crystal glasses on the table along with the wine and retraced her steps to fetch some of the nicer china Jonny's grandmother had kept. Mer watched her, his gaze, gentle and attentive, and a little bit yearning as she methodically sat the table.

"Need help with anythin'?" he asked finally.

"Nope," She replied with a smile. "Everything is almost ready."

The hearty red sauce on the stove was beginning to boil again which told her it was hot enough to serve, and Evie eyed the pot with scrutiny, praying silently her attempt at cooking would go over well.

"I'll pour us a glass then," Mer announced.

"Great, lemme…" Evie spun to fish for the corkscrew in the drawer of misfit utensils, finding it, only to turn to see Merriell holding his lighter against the neck of the dark bottle just below the cork.

Before she could ask, a loud pop sounded, causing her to jump as the cork went flying.

"Oh my goodness!" she laughed, a little surprised, a little impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Mer shrugged, a sly expression on his features, and left her question unanswered.

"How much ya want?" He held the open bottle over the top of her glass, waiting patiently.

"Enough," she said, tossing him a coy smirk without really meaning to.

He bit his lower lip as he smiled, chuckling under his breath when he poured a generous glass of red wine for each of them. She thanked him as he took his seat and grabbed his plate to dish out their dinner.

"How much pasta would you like?"

Mer's face lit with charm and mischief as he turned to face her.

"Enough," he grinned.

The expression on his face was playful, his smirk devious and amused by his own response and his cheekiness settled warmly in Evie's stomach. Not only did she revel in it, but she also played into his whimsy and scooped as much spaghetti into his plate as she could before coupling it with the savory sauce and a slice of bread.

Despite being only strangers, the atmosphere that bloomed that evening was not marked by any hint of bashfulness, instead, it was relaxed and amiable. Warmth that Evie had longed to dwell in again—that unrefutable kindness she'd lost with the passing of her family—flowed uninhibited from the man sitting adjacent to her. His conversation was cautious but still jovial and genuine. It was the first time since running south Evie could recall what life felt like without grief and fear weighing upon her. Merriell was a stranger, but she felt safe with him. Jonny had never made her feel that way.

"So," Evie spoke as she twirled the last bit of pasta with her fork. "What is it you do, Mr. Shelton?"

Mer cast her a look of disapproval—no doubt in retaliation to being addressed so formally—before his features softened back into a neutral, yet somehow still amused side smirk.

"Nothin' too excitin'," he stated vaguely. "The odd jobs are what I like ta do the most—like fixin' ya car this aftah noon."

Without really meaning to, Evie leaned forward, resting her elbow and chin on the table, utterly enchanted by the beautiful stranger at her table.

"You like to get your hands dirty, huh? Fixing things?" she was entirely too intrigued with the thought of what he could do with his hands.

He shrugged, suddenly modest after a foray of playfully arrogant smirks and glances. It made him abruptly twice as charming.

"I've always had a knack for it, I guess." Merriell finished the food on his plate with the help of his remaining garlic bread to mop up the sauce still left on his dish.

"What about you?" he asked after chewing. "Ya workin' anywhere?"

All at once, a proud smile lit up Evie's face. After all the excitement of seeing Merriell again, she'd almost forgotten about her good news.

"Actually, I just got a job today—the general store downtown, Southern Comfort."

Mer's face lit up too, "Birdie's place?"

"Yeah, you know it?" Of course, he knows it! She thought, Bridge City's population was slightly less than the number of people who lived in a single district back home in New York. Everyone knew everyone else.

"Sho do—I was practically raised there…ole Birdie's like a second mothah to me."

"Really?" Evie found a great deal of comfort in that notion. In fact the more she thought on it, the more she realized how similar the old woman and Mer were; they radiated the same magnetism and sincerity.

"Mmhm," he nodded, his eyes focusing elsewhere as the veil of memories danced across the contours of his features. "My mama used ta work there…once upon a time…"

"Does she still work there?"

Merriell's face lost a hit of its levity and he swallowed as though to fight off the onslaught of sudden emotion threatening to cast a shadow onto his expression.

"No…" he said softly. "She—uh—she died, about a year ago."

Shit!

Abruptly, sick knots twisted into Evie's stomach, feeling callous, but understanding of the quiet misery he hid under layers of charm and arrogance.

"Merriell, I'm…I'm sorry—I didn't mean…"

He met her eyes and cast her a quick smile—doleful, but enough to ease the awful feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's okay," he reassured her, reaching for his glass of wine and taking a good gulp before changing the subject. "Birdie's great—you'll enjoy workin' for her."

"I hope so…" Evie said softly, still too embarrassed to meet Mer's glance longer than a second or two.

For the first time all night the atmosphere they shared felt cumbersome—perhaps more melancholy—than she'd wanted it to get. Evie sat, worrying her bottom lip, her fingers toying with a loose thread in the table cloth as she stole quick glances through her lashes in Mer's direction.

He was nursing the alcohol in his glass with the same sadness she'd caught plaguing him as he sat at the bar hours ago. And while Evie was eager to know if his grief stemmed only from the loss of his mother, or perhaps more, Merriell was still too much of a stranger to warrant such questions. It didn't matter how easy it was to be near him, she had not earned the right to know his narrative.

A soft sigh broke past her lips as she fought to find a way to properly allay the gloom that was quickly ruining an otherwise wonderful evening. It wasn't until her eyes found their desert sitting on the counter, waiting to save the day, that she perked up.

"Got any room for apple pie?" Evie asked with a hesitant smile. She hoped he wanted to stay long enough to have a slice, though she would not have blamed him for wanting to leave.

Immediately Mer perked up too, the shadows on his features retreating with the promise of something sweet.

"I was countin' on it—seems as how you promised a slice earlier," he said with a boyish grin.

When she stood, he did too, helping clear away their dinner plates, and letting them soak in the sink to be washed later. Evie cut them each a slice of apple pie and the delight on Mer’s face made her smile too seeing him lick his lips as his grin continued to grow. Catching that flash of his tongue was like a bolt of hot lightning striking her without warning; a blush rose so quickly on her cheeks Evie had to look away to keep the blunder a secret. Thankfully, the pie was more than enough to hold Merriell’s attention away from her.

“Mmmm… Almost looks too good to eat,” he said ogling the desert in front of him.

When Evie chanced a look his way, the expression on his face caused her to chuckle, “‘oughta be, I made one for my pa every year for his birthday since I was nine. It’s probably the only thing I have any confidence in making in the kitchen.”

“Coulda fooled me,” Mer quipped as he loaded his fork with as much pie as he could.

The moment he took a bite, his brows creased, and eyes closed as he chewed painfully slow. Those few seconds were like agony. Evie’s heart was pounding in her chest with so much anticipation she feared she might faint as she watched him sample the only thing she could actually make that was worth a damn.

“Fuck me, if that ain’t the best apple pie I’ve evah had the pleasure of tasting.”

A somewhat nervous, but relieved chuckle sounded in the back of Evelyn’s throat as she watched Merriell shovel a larger bite of pie into his mouth.

“Mmm… Yep. God damn delightful.”

“Stop,” Evie said sheepishly, suddenly afraid he was overselling his reaction to keep from hurting her feelings.

“No,” he wiped his mouth and leaned across the table to meet her gaze with a sincere expression that stole away all the doubt writhing in her stomach.

“I mean it. If I wasn’t so full of pasta, I’d eat that whole damn pie right now.”

“Well,” Evie grinned softly, trying not to let her blush color her cheeks too obviously. “Thank you. And you’re welcome to take the rest of it when you go.”

Excitement took form on his face with a smirk that was sweet but roguish all at once—a sort of debonair charm that amplified his magnetism—as if his bright eyes dark curls and razor-sharp jaw did not make him alluring enough already. Again she had to look away knowing the pink in her cheeks would be too strong to combat.

“Imma have ta take ya up on that offah. An’ I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout you every time I cut me a slice.”

That blush was unstoppable; her heart was suddenly so smitten, it felt as though butterflies were fluttering merrily in her stomach. She felt weightless with warmth and hope swelling in her bosom, fearing any slight breeze would carry her off. It was ridiculous how at ease Evie felt sitting there eating pie with a complete stranger. The conversation had been easy all night; even when it had delved into less savory topics he still made her feel comfortable. Evelyn had forgotten what it was like to be in the company of a man who wasn’t easy to anger, who was genuine and kind and wanted only to live in the moment.

For a time the whimsy of the atmosphere faded as the warmth in her heart ached, suddenly missing her brother James and Cynthia's brother Charlie. Both of them were good men, kind and genuine—like Merriell—but they had been swallowed by the rages of war. Brave young men were lost forever, while a man like Jonny Doyle was still alive How was that fair?

No matter how pleasant her thoughts could be, they always fell back to the grief that plagued her. She sighed, deeply, pushing those intrusive memories back into the depths of her mind so she could find joy once more in the moment with a kind stranger.

When Merrill finished his plate he made a beeline for the sink full of soaking dishes.

“Oh, no,” she said jumping to her feet. “I can do those.”

Merriell, however, shook his head. “Uh-uh, you did the cookin’, I can do the cleanin’.”

When Evie tried to argue, Mer simply shook his head, his grin amused but determined as he kept scrubbing the dirty dishes.

“Let me help at least,” she suggested. “I’ll dry and put them away.”

Before he could protest, she snatched the freshly rinsed dish from his hand and began wiping away the droplets of water clinging to the porcelain surface, throwing him a smug smirk that made him chuckle.

“Alright,“ he smirked.

She watched him for a moment not really paying attention to her task as he scrubbed the old plates clean, overcome with a blissful vision of peaceful domesticity. It made her stomach fill to the brim with whimsy and her heart was fluttering again; had this stranger bewitched her already? Or did what she feel bubbling lightly in her gut like a seltzer stem from an end to her loneliness—even if it was only for a few hours? Evelyn didn’t know. Nevertheless, she was intrigued with a profound feeling and she wanted to dwell in it for as long as she could.

Occasionally as he would hand a freshly washed dish her way, his calloused fingertips would brush against her skin, igniting a spark she didn’t know how to react to. It was more than an amicable tingle racing from the tips of her fingers right to her heart. And each time they touched, Merriell would cast her a gentle smile that held nothing more than his inherent charm and magnetism. She wondered if he felt it too, or if her need for companionship was playing a dirty trick on her.

When the dishes were all back in their usual places—the night drawing to a close—Evelyn realized she was not ready to say farewell to her Beautiful Stranger. She longed to stay up all night just chatting with him, she did not care about what, Evelyn only wanted to stay encompassed a while longer in the blissful warmth he brought into her life. Once he was gone, all she would be able to do was stay up and ponder the significance of those little touches and the sparks they brought.

Thankfully, Merriell lingered on the old rickety porch, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his plate of leftover pie, seeming to stall their inevitable departure.

“Well,” he said with a grin. “Thank you for invitin’ a stranger ovah for dinna.” He paused, glancing at the leftover pie in his hand. “Can’t recall ever having a better plate of pasta, an’ nothin’ evah gonna beat this pie.”

Evie quickly looked at her feet to hide another blush.

“It was the least I could do,” she told him before looking back to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much of a savior you were this afternoon…”

A glint of concern flashed in his eye, his brows beginning to crease as his unspoken question lingered between them.

She thought about telling him—telling him how Jonny was nothing more than a throne in her side, and how much she cherished Merriells company—but Mer was still a stranger. It wasn’t right to unload so much onto someone she’d only known for a few hours.

Before Mer could offer any reply, the sound of screeching tires stole all their focus as an old wagon pulled along the curb—narrowly missing a collision with the mailbox. The rowdy passengers were laughing and shouting loud enough even before the door opened to let Jonny stumble out. He staggered on drunk feet and screamed a handful of profanities to his buddies in the car which made them all roar with laughter.

It was only after the wagon full of hooligans pulled away that Jonny began to stagger towards the house, and it was exactly then that Evie’s fluttering heart became consumed with panic.

She and Mer watched him cross the yard, unseen, both frozen: Evie in fear and Merriell in confusion. Jonny’s intoxication level inhibited him from taking notice of them until he was at the base of the steps leading onto the porch. Immediately, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Jonny, this is Mr. Merriell Shelton,” Evie said quickly, willing her voice not to shake.

The Doyle’s were not known for their hospitality, nor were they known to trust most people. Especially strangers.

“He helped me this afternoon with a bit of trouble I was having,” she explained vaguely, hoping to thwart any more suspicion. “I made him dinner to say thank you—he’s just about to leave.”

Jonny eyed Merriell, seizing him up as best he could through drunken lenses. Mer stood his ground, eyeing him back with a subtle intensity that never so much as cracked under Jonny’s scrutiny.

Finally, being the better man, Mer held out his hand in a friendly manner, “nice ta meet ya.”

Jonny cast a prolonged glare at Merriell's open hand, his brows furrowed and part of his lip hiked up in a sort of snarl. Instead of returning the kind gesture, Jonny made a show of spitting at his feet before tossing his heavy leer at Evelyn.

"Evie, do not invite any more strangers into my house. I don't care if they are dying." He shoved past them both, purposely bumping Mer's shoulder (most likely in hopes to start something) muttering as he went: "I don't trust any of these filthy southerners."

Shock sent Evie's jaw slack; this time the redness in her cheeks was a symptom of embarrassment instead of infatuation. She should have known Jonny would say something rude and uncouth. Without another thought, she grabbed Mer by his sleeve and pulled him across the lawn until they stood next to his truck parked along the curb.

"I am so sorry about him," she said, crossing her arms and glaring at Jonny's house, ashamed and angry.

Mer shrugged as he placed his partially eaten pie in the passenger seat through the open window before fixing his hands in his front pockets.

"Ya boyfriend's a bit of an asshole."

"He is not my boyfriend," Evie corrected vehemently. "I don't think he knows that though. I'm just staying here until I can figure some things out."

Merriell was quiet a moment, nodding silently. It seemed as though he was taking his time processing the whole situation. There was compassion on his face and behind his eyes, but it was guarded somehow. Evie caught it though and she was grateful when he didn't ask the questions plainly forming in his mind.

"Well," he said finally, his tone light as one corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. "Since he ain't ya othah half, I feel more inclined ta leave ya with this…"

Gently, Merriell caressed her upper arm as he leaned forward to plant a tender kiss on her cheek. He let his lips linger slightly longer than was common for such an act, that all at once wove a new hopefulness into her heart.

"Dinna was swell," he added as he pulled away, his smile somehow more charming than it had been all night. "Hope I see ya again, Evie."

"Me too," she murmured.

Evie watched as he got in his truck to leave, her hand held to the cheek he'd graced with his kiss. And when he drove away, it took everything inside of her to keep from running after him.

#Beautiful Stranger Series #Merriell Shelton x Original Character #Merriell Shelton #Snafu Shelton #HBO War #The Pacific #The Pacific Fanfiction #Rami Malek Fanfiction

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emma-nation · 3 years

Text

The Devil In I - Bela x OC (Resident Evil Village AU)

“Step inside, see the Devil in I”

Summary: Aleena Novak is a 19 years old orphan who desired more than living in a village in the middle of nowhere. A talented artist with a big future ahead, she gets the scholarship of her dreams in United States. But everything changes when her twin brother, Auryk, steals an important artifact from Castle Dimitrescu.

In this adventure, Aleena will find way more than she expected.

“You’ll realize I’m not your Devil anymore”

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x OC

Genre: Between T and M (Trigger warning for violence, blood, abuse and eventual smut)

Tag List: @nydeiri

Notes: This is my first RES fic, so I'm sorry if I mess it up a bit. English is also not my main language, so a mistake or two may happen. I hope you enjoy it :)

Trigger Warning: Language, abuse, blood and violence.

Eastern Europe - July, 2009

"If he could learn to love another and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast?"

Mother closed the book, placing it on the bedside table between Auryk's bed and mine. Then, she lowered herself and kissed my forehead like she did every night. Her long, blonde hair tickled my face and left a trace of her sweet lavender fragrance in the air. I giggled.

"Good night, sweetheart," she spoke.

"Good night, momma."

"Cherish your last night as a six years old. Tomorrow you will become a..."

"Princess?!"

"A seven years old girl. The prettiest girl in the village."

"Pffft," Auryk let out a displeased grunt from his bed, covering his head with the pillow to avoid listening another word from the conversation.

"And you too," mother sat by his side on the bed and repeated her nightly ritual of kissing his forehead to wish him a good night too. "You'll become the most handsome and brave warrior in this village. Do you understand?"

"I hope so. Good night, mom."

"Good night, buddy."

Mother left the room, leaving us both in the dark. However, we couldn't sleep. Not because we were thrilled about our incoming birthday party as any regular child, but because we knew our lives were about to change. Seven years old was the age every child from our village was introduced to the truth and started being trained to fight the evil that haunted our lands. Auryk and I spent minutes, or maybe hours, in silence, staring at the ceiling.

"Leena?" He was the first one to speak. "Do you believe a spell can broken? I mean, like a curse?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I answered, feeling my thoughts starting to drift away. "Maybe we're doomed after all. Or... we could learn how to love the beasts."

The birthday parties always happened during the daytime, rules of the village. We could no longer be outside after 6 PM. Mother got help from the other women to prepare the treats and organize the decorations. Auryk was disguised as a pirate and I... I was Belle, from the Beauty and the Beast.

"So, what do you think you will be getting this year?" My best friend Elena asked while we were playing with our dolls. She was about two years older than us.

"I don't know," I shrugged. Being a merchant, my father always returned home with the most unusual gifts: a magical music box, a voodoo doll that had a life on its own or a fragrance that chased away the monsters - and everybody else too. "A new book. I'm hoping for a new book."

It was only by the end of the party Adrian Novak made his entrance. That was the mystery about him. Nobody knew when he would show up, or if he would show up at all. He still had that same annoying smirk on his face. The corner of his mouth holding a cigarette. The months away made his beard grow longer, as well as his dark hair. In the sunlight, the scar above his eye was even more visible.

"Auryk," he shouted, "come here, son. I've got something for ya."

My twin brother, who had been climbing trees with his friends stop frozen in spot for a second. I couldn't tell if he hated or feared that man. Maybe both. He slowly followed father's command, approaching him cautiously.

"Hi, dad."

"Happy birthday, son," father ruffled his dark straight hair with his strong and calloused hand. "It's about time you grow up."

He handed my brother a large package. From our experience, we knew exactly what it was, a shotgun.

"T-Thank you, dad."

"I'll be spending some time at home. Tomorrow we'll start practicing."

Auryk consented. He shot me a quick glance. From our twin bond I could tell my brother was far from happy. When he blew his candles that afternoon, he didn't wish for a weapon. We wished to be a normal child.

"What did you get, Leena?" He asked once we were locked in the safety of our bedroom.

"Pencils and a drawing book. Dad thinks I'm talented."

Not really. Adrian Novak would never allow his daughter to hold a shotgun. That was, according to him, 'a man thing'.

"Good, at least one of us got what they wanted. Happy birthday, sister."

"Happy birthday, brother."

4 Years Later - October, 2013

It wasn't easy to be the weakest of the twins. Although he was born first, Auryk was the tinniest. The one who was always getting sick or getting injured. The one who couldn't hit a single fucking target when he had the alcoholic breath of his father on his neck.

He aimed for a crow, sitting still on a fence. How hard could it be? Even the eldest man from the village could do any better than that.

BANG! He shot again. And missed.

"Again?!" Adrian angered, shoving him hard on the shoulder. "What the hell is your problem, kid?"

"I don't know, okay? This gun... it's heavy!"

"Heavy? And why do you think we've been exercising for all these years, huh?! We do not live in Disneyland, Auryk. We need to fight monsters, abominations. Someday I won't be home and you need to be prepared to protect our people. Do you understand?"

Tears started forming in the corners of the boy's blue eyes. He couldn't cry. Not in front of him. Crying was a sign of weakness and he couldn't be weak. Not right now. Auryk started to think about all the things he could be doing. He thought about the ocean, as he had seen on TV and books. He could feel the warmness of the sun on his skin. The sand between his toes. His mom and sister were also there, of course - they'd carry them with him everywhere. And he would study Math and Physics. There would be no guns, no monsters, no blood, only numbers, only formulas, only theories. He smiled. He no longer felt like crying.

"I'm sorry, dad," kindness was always the answer, his mother said. "But this isn't for me, you know? I don't like it. I... Remember that boarding school my teacher mentioned? I thought maybe I..."

His words were interrupted by a hard slap on his face. Auryk could taste a small amount of blood coming out from his lower lip.

"So that's what you want? To become one of those little fancy fags? Maybe you're not my son after all."

Adrian started walking away, leaving his son alone, sitting on the floor.

"I AM!" Auryk yelled, enraged. "I am your son."

"Then prove it."

"You shouldn't take so hard on him," Savannah poured her husband a cup of tea. "He's just a boy."

"He's eleven years old, for god's sake," the husband punched the table strong enough to make it shake. "He needs to man up a bit. You should stop spoiling him."

As I left my bedroom I found my brother sitting on the stairs. He didn't have to be so close to listen to the conversation between our parents, father's voice was loud enough to echo through every wall of our small and cozy home.

I sat down by his side, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"Maybe you should do it, Leena. You'd do it better, I know."

"I'm not so sure. Remember when I tried to shoot a scarecrow and almost shot that old witch?"

"Come on, you aimed on purpose! I know."

Auryk finally let out a small laugh at the memory.

"You're good at everything, Leena," he spoke fondly. "You're an extrovert, you're everybody's friend, you can cook, you can draw and paint... you're a true artist. I'm a mistake."

"You're not a mistake, Ryk," I pulled my brother closer, resting my cheek against the side of his face. "We're only at the wrong place and you know it."

Going back to our bedroom, we pulled from the drawers the postcards our grandma Louise sent us from San Diego. Mom had been born in California and lived there her entire life, until she met father during one of his trips. God knows what made her fall in love with that man. Adventure? Danger? I expected better from myself when I turned eighteen. Otherwise, I'd never want to fall in love. Love could be my ruin, just like my mom's.

"Leena..." Auryk held the postcard tightly, "do you think... if he died... do you think mom would take us to nana's home?"

"I don't know, Ryk," I didn't want to think of my father's possible death. But I also dreamed of a better life. "Maybe."

"What the hell?" Father's voice in the kitchen made me jump in fear. I knew that tone. I grew up used to that. Something was wrong in the village. We had to hide.

"To the basement, now!" He emerged at the bedroom, holding a rifle. "Lycans were seen surrounding the area."

We barely had any time to react, mom came and dragged us both to the basement. Father left, carrying his arsenal of weapons as usual. There were other hunters in the village but we always knew how badly it could end. Somebody could always get seriously hurt. Or worse.

The basement had been carefully prepared for that kind of situation years before. It had a big bed, two armchairs, a heating source, some stored food and a shelf. Mom sighed and forced a smile.

"So," she walked to the shelf, "what is it going to be today?"

"Frankenstein," Auryk suggested. My brother loved mystery and horror. As if his life hadn't enough of it.

"Romeo and Juliet," I spoke. There was something about forbidden romance that always caught my interest.

"Okay. I... I'm gonna say a prayer and you two can read the books you picked by yourselves. What do you think?"

"Great!"

Mom kneeled down by the bed's side, holding a crucifix. I could join her if I wanted to, but I'd rather watch in silence. I grabbed my book, sitting on one of the armchairs and pretending to pay attention, while I tried to distract myself from the fact my father could be the Lycans' next prey. Or all of us, if they managed to break into our house.

"Leena?" I woke up hours later with my mom shaking me. "Leena?! Where's Auryk? Where's your brother, Leena?"

I had no idea. I had fallen asleep and apparently, so did mom. She checked for the basement's door, it had been locked from outside.

"No..." she tried to force it open. "No! I can't be..."

All Auryk had to do was to successfully kill and take a Lycan's carcass as a trophy to his father, right? That was what that old douchebag wanted him to do, to prove his courage, his manhood. We had his shotgun, a binoculars and a knife, that should be enough, but first, he needed a good plan.

Looking down to his hands, he had the most perfect idea. Without thinking twice, he sliced a cut through his palm, letting some blood pour on the ground. Then, he found a tall tree. He climbed it and observed. The smell of blood his trail left behind should be enough to attract a creature.

"Come on... come on..."

From a distance, Auryk could hear the sound of destruction and death. There was a battle going on somewhere nearby. Once again Lycans should have found a family or a group of hunters.

And then, he could hear it. The heavy footsteps, the screeching sounds, the sniffing. The mutant creature was only a few meters away from the tree. He aimed, but it was still too distant. He needed to move to a closer branch.

It all happened in one second. He was almost there, reaching for the spot he had picked, but his weight was too much for the tree's branch. In a blink of an eye, he was lying on the ground. His vision was blurred. His head hurt intensely, as well as his arm. It was broken for sure. He possibly had a concussion too. He tried to stand up and run but his legs wouldn't follow his commands. The Lycan was coming straight at him.

"AURYK!" His mother screamed behind him. "NO!"

Time seemed to freeze in that fraction of second. How did she manage to escape the basement? How could she have found him?

But without hesitation, Savannah threw herself on top of her son, protecting him from the jaws and claws of the monster. Auryk couldn't see much, but he could smell it. He could feel it. Blood. There was blood everywhere. He couldn't tell who it belonged to, he or his mom's.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

A fast sequence of shots suggested the hunters had found them. The creature stopped moving, stopped howling. It was finally dead.

"M-Mom... it's dead. We... We're safe."

She didn't answer. Instead, he heard another familiar voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!" It was from his father. "Savannah! Savannah!"

"D-Dad..." Auryk tried to speak, but the words got lost along the way. "I... I..."

Adrian lifted him by his jacket, holding him inches above the ground.

"YOU KILLED HER! YOU KILLED YOUR MOM, YOUR STUPID BASTARD!"

"I..." tears streamed down the boy's face, his injured brain trying to process what had just happened. "I'm sorry.'

After he was thrown back to the ground, he was hit with a hard kick on his stomach. He turned his head around to notice a small figure hiding behind a tree, watching the whole scene in pure horror.

"L-Leena..." he muttered.

"This is all your fault, Auryk. You're a disgrace to this family."

And then, he passed out. Rumors said he was unconscious for days or maybe weeks. When he woke up, he wished everything had been a nightmare.

Present Days - July, 2021

Nobody mourned Adrian Novak when he died. Not his children. Not his village mates. No human being would ever feel any sympathy for a man who abused and blamed his eleven years old son for his mother's death. It had been two years since Adrian left this world and I couldn't feel any more free.

"Hey," I left another message on my brother's voicemail, "in case you've forgotten it's our birthday today. I'd like to have my twin home, you know? Call me when you get this message."

It was useless, I knew. Auryk would only pick up his phone when he wanted to. Or when he was too drunk. God knew where that guy would be at that time, probably waking up at some girl's bed or getting some rest from... working.

After grabbing myself a cup of coffee, I checked the door's mat. Bills, bills, newspaper and... California Institute Of Arts? I remember having an argument with Auryk about this matter at some point. He wanted me to fill the application and send them my portfolio. I insisted we had no money, not even to pay for the tuition. I won - I always win every argument by the way.

"Your damn son of a..." I placed the envelope on the kitchen's table. I was a coward, I confess. However, I didn't know which pain was worse - to be sure I wasn't good enough or to be sure I was, indeed, but I'd never have money to leave that hellhole. Anyways, I decided to leave it alone. I had more important things to do.

My morning routine: to go to the middle of the woods and do some training. My father used to say fighting wasn't a girl thing, but I was no regular girl. And never in this life I'd allow someone to tell me what to do.

After running, climbing and doing a set of push-ups, it was time for combat training. Travelers from abroad taught me some different set of moves, I'd like to think I created my own fighting style. I was also very good with knifes, daggers or any kinds of short blades, they were useful during a close distance combat. My shooting was a work in progress, once or twice I'd miss the center of my handmade targets.

Then, like everyday, I'd go back home, shower and follow to my shift at the village's pub.

"Hiya, Leena," Gustav greeted me when I arrived. "I heard today is a special day... the day a little girl..."

"NO!" I stopped him. Gustav was my best friend. We had known each other since we were children and somehow, he liked to make my birthday a special - and embarrassing - event.

He placed a handmade fairytale-like book on the table. There were some edited pictures, mixed with some messed up drawings about my birth and childhood. He called it 'The Princess Who Carried The Light'.

"God, you're soooo stupid..." I rolled my eyes and moaned, before wrapping him into a very tight hug. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know. You'd probably marry me, if you weren't into girls."

We laughed together, as Olga, our boss emerged from the kitchen, bringing a cake with nineteen candles.

"Here's to another year," the older woman opened a wrinkled smile, "make a wish, my darling."

I fell pensive for a moment, besides having my twin brother back home, safe and sound, what else could I wish for? California, that scholarship, a new life... that's for sure.

"I wish for... a new life, a new adventure," I pronounced aloud while blowing the candles.

"Careful," a male voice spoke behind me, "words have power, little sister. You may get what you want."

"Ryk!"

I jumped straight to my brother's arms. I could swear that in only a few weeks he had gotten a little bit taller, and stronger too.

"I wouldn't miss my own birthday, right?" He smirked. "So, where's the cake? Please, chocolate... tell me it's chocolate."

"Your silly boy," Olga spread some icing on his nose. "Of course it's chocolate, as you love. And with cherries too."

Auryk responded with a satisfied smile. Olga and her husband, Kristoff, were those responsible for taking care of him after the Lycan attack, years ago. They sort of adopted him like one of their biological children.

"Oh!" The woman exclaimed taking a closer look at Ryk's forearm. He had gotten a tattoo. I hadn't been informed of those news either. Apparently, my brother had more secrets than I could even start to imagine. "This is... new. It seems like my kids are really growing up."

"And only now you noticed that, Olga?" Gustav joked.

Olga shook her head, grinning at herself and returned to the kitchen. The customers were starting to fill the pub. I stared at Ryk again, wondering what other secrets my brother could be keeping.

"So, what does that mean?" I pointed to his newly gotten tattoo, a strange and ancient symbol it seemed.

"Protection from the evil. This is what we need the most in our lives, especially in a place like this. What reminds me -" we turned around, taking a small box from the pocket of his jacket. "Your gift."

I took the black velvet box from his hands, it contained a golden necklace with a magenta gemstone as pendant. My blue eyes drowned themselves in the stone. It had a mysterious glow. Something hypnotizing. Something magical.

"Whoa..." was everything my mouth could pronounce. "And I bought you an Astronomy book."

Auryk stood up from his chair and went behind me, taking the necklace from my hands to wear it around my neck himself.

"This is supposed to protect you from any supernatural and inhumane beings. I won't lose you to them, Aleena. Not like I lost mom."

"Ryk, I... I can't even thank you enough."

"You don't have to. Just... stay alive."

First, I was overflowing with happiness. It either had to do with the fact my brother was home, alcohol, or both. Also, Olga should thank me. Most of the costumers of the day only stopped by the bar because of me. They absolutely loved me and knowing it was my birthday, they had to come and see me. A few of them even gave me some extra tips or a small gift, which was even greater.

"Okay, party girl..." Auryk helped me to get inside of the house as I tripped over the door mat. "Time to go to bed now. Don't you think?"

"Come on, Ryk! Have some spirit! You're home, Olga gave me the day off tomorrow, I earned some money..."

"You told Mrs. Hansen you secretly had a crush on her daughter during Middle School, you danced on top of a table, you're gonna get a hangover..."

"Party pooper!"

I threw myself at the couch. Auryk stood in front of me with arms crossed, looking like a father about to give his child a lecture.

"What?!" I yelled. "It's not like you've never been drunk before. Remember when you stole Adrian's..." I started to laugh, remembering the episode.

"When you were going to tell me about this, Leena?" He showed me the envelope. The Art Institute envelope. The one I had been struggling to open.

"Oh! I forgot. My bad, I didn't open it myself yet. I probably didn't get in anyways."

"You did."

I did?

"It's not like we have money to pay for my tuition. Also, how are we supposed to move to California, Ryk? I work at a pub and you..."

"I've gotten more than enough for that. You know that getting out of this place has always been the plan, since we were children. Leena, I've done some big jobs those last few months. I have the money to grant us a comfortable life in California."

"Smuggling, Ryk!" I raised my voice, saying aloud the information that was supposed to be a secret or not. "You've been stealing to grant us this life."

My brother stared at me in silence. I couldn't tell if he felt offended or embarrassed about my words.

"I'm getting out of here, whatever it takes," he ran a hand through his dark hair. "And you are coming with me. In two weeks, we move to United States for your enrollment."

"But..."

What I was trying to protest against? Leaving the village and starting a new life with my brother was everything I always dreamed.

"Look, I promise you," Auryk placed both of his firm hands on my shoulders, "once we settle down, no more smuggling."

"Okay," I sighed. "We leave in two weeks then."

There was a loud knock on the door. Being drunk as I was, I figured out I should have forgotten my purse at the pub. Or it could be a neighbor with some very stupid emergency.

Auryk opened the door and there was a strange looking man standing there. We wore sunglasses and a hat, behind his back he was carrying a giant hammer. According to the rumors and stories I heard from my parents, that was one of the Lords of The Four Houses, Karl Heisenberg.

"Auryk Novak?" He asked.

"Yes, sir."

"Come with me, kid. You've gotten yourself in big trouble."

#resident evil village #resident evil 8 #bela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela x oc #resident evil fanfiction #the devil in i

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smol-nevi · 3 years

Text

I don't generally make this kind of thing a habit, but I think if you happen to be on the Crystal RP Discord, aka @crystal-rp-ffxiv, you should probably be aware of this kind of behavior, so here goes.

If you're on Crystal RP and the admin team decides they don't like you, you're going to be living under a microscope while they wait for you to mess up, if not bait you, probably while making up conspiracies about you as well. As for how I know this, I was a moderator for about a week's duration and saw it first-hand.

Unapologetically lengthy post. Receipts in the link above, long version below the cut.

From the first time I looked in the mod chat I knew something was wrong. I read backwards in the channel, thinking I'd acclimate myself and see what kind of rules precedents had been set and that sort of thing. I mostly just found out that they had it out for a particular member (at the time using the name Jericho) for not much reason. They'd spent a troubling amount of time over the past few months watching him and another member like vultures, believing them to be the same person and waiting for them to make some kind of mistake that would justify banning both of them...despite keeping different schedules, having different personalities and typing habits, and visibly being two different people. The admin team had come to the conclusion that Jericho was a troll who wanted to make them look bad, and anything he said or did was scrutinized to a ridiculous degree for evidence that would corroborate their belief.

Except none of the things they believed at all were true: he'd had a minor argument via DM with the head admin Benjimir Thursby's wife, Tessariel Aerlinn, who had made an overly broad statement about anime and Asian culture. Jericho had told her that overgeneralization about 'Asian culture' is potentially racist, and she became extremely angry, saying that because she's Asian, she can't be racist against Asians. After that, it seemed that Jericho was considered fair game for whatever retaliatory actions the two of them could justify.

Even a cursory glance at actual racism in Asia pokes Tessariel's statement entirely full of holes, and having personally read the conversation I didn't see anything actually inaccurate in his statement even if she believed it didn't apply to her. I asked what he had done that would merit such a response, because it felt very disproportionate to anything I'd ever seen him do publicly, and that was what I was told. The exchange via DMs had been screencapped and kept in a channel for evidence, and while I didn't get a copy of it, I did read it, and I said that I thought it sounded awfully one-sided and punitive and would have been much better as an actual conversation. I also expressed that I was concerned how much of the channel had been solely devoted to what was basically a witch hunt, considering that some of the server members had over the course of the past couple of months commented that the admins' behavior towards Jericho seemed biased.

I basically got a pat on the head and told that my opinion was "valued" but wrong. This would happen a lot over the course of the week.

Shit continued to escalate. Their favorite punching bag, who was acutely aware of the grudge by now and probably trying to be nice and discuss something that he thought they could all talk about, brought up some articles that stated that LOTRO might be having a graphical overhaul. This actually ended in him being put into some kind of time-out mute, because "everyone knows those articles are debunked already" despite them still being hosted on reputable games news sites. Back-channel, the admin consensus was that he was in fact trying to bait Benjimir and Tessariel into somehow looking stupid in public, because [paraphrasing] 'he knows how important LOTRO is to them.'

Benjimir in fact went off publicly about how he knows the dev team and they sent him 'personalized swag' for 'being himself' and that everyone should just listen to him because he's right. Someone else made a reasonable request for sources on statements that Benjimir made about the LOTRO improvements not happening, and they immediately became the team's private #2 punching bag.

The whole time I reiterated that this was really uncomfortable and I had serious concerns about the way they were handling Jericho. And as always I received a pat on the head and was told to not worry about it, there were really good reasons for it, really. He was 'bringing down the quality of discourse' on the server somehow. Benjimir decided that the only way he would unmute Jericho is if Jericho talked directly to him, and that Jericho tried to talk to any of the more level-headed members of the team first was taken as obvious evidence that he wanted to evade rules and create problems. I asked when we planned to unmute him, and Tessariel immediately jumped to the conclusion that he had messaged me, which wasn't incorrect but the way she worded it felt highly accusatory and I was beginning to feel that I was also in trouble somehow for not agreeing with the rest of the team.

Things came to a head quickly when I woke up and looked at the mod chat and they were having an animated conversation that started with Benjimir asking if it was 'bad that he was laughing at Jericho' and most of the rest of the team talking about how he was stupid, uninformed, a troll, etc. for the sin of having some misgivings about cryptocurrency, of all the things. One of the mods self-described their behavior as bullying. I said that this was extremely unprofessional and that I thought they should keep conversation to actual moderation matters, and if they had a personal disagreement with a server member they should handle it in a personal venue, not via official server moderation channels.

I was, for the final time, patted on the head, and told that this was not something they would consider, because the moderation team 'needs to be able to vent for their mental health' (never mind that the job was not stressful except for the rest of the team committing worse behavior than the server members) and that maybe I was in fact too sensitive for the job. Benjimir heavily implied that I had become too close to Jericho and was being manipulated, managed to misgender me somehow despite my having used solely male or neutral pronouns the entire time I'd been on the server, and after relating a story in which a couple of years ago a well-liked moderator left after having the same complaints as I did (which he saw nothing at all troubling about), suggested that I should be demoted to babysitting the lore channel.

So I took some time to collect receipts, which are linked at the top of the post, and told him where to shove it.

Since that time, things have actually somehow gotten worse on Crystal RP. Benjimir posted an entire page screed vaguely talking about "rampant negativity" that stated anyone with questions should DM him.

Upon DMing him with questions, Jericho was banned, the only reason given being that he was a 'poor fit' for the server in some vague way. I was immediately banned afterwards for calling out this decision as being driven by a personal vendetta in the feedback channel and let him know afterwards via DMs in no uncertain terms that I had logged everything I needed and would be building my case (and that he is an asshole). Jericho was reinstated, though I'm not sure what the conditions of his return were as that was after my ban and I didn't ask since I didn't want to stress him out further. Benjimir also reprimanded someone for discussing asexuality, stating in a DM to them that the conversation was somehow ERP related. I called him out on this via DM as well. Tessariel was not much later caught posting my last DMs to Benjimir in an entirely unrelated server, though she didn't include the part after that where I brought up his aphobia (during Pride Month, in a server with a rainbow icon no less). Benjimir for some reason decided to suddenly start following my FC's Tumblr well after our falling-out.

And as of today (6/24), Crystal RP now has seven pages of draconian rules, because it wasn't micromanaged hard enough before or something. Notably, a lot of these rules describe behaviors that they wanted to punish Jericho for but couldn't at the time justify, or that they'd like to punish me for but have nothing they can do to me. Or they exist to justify their own behavior, as now seen in the very beginning of the channel:

"This approach also provides our volunteers with leeway to act in good faith without the burden befitting a professional occupation."

"So we afford them the means to speak openly, vent, lament, candidly and yes, sometimes crassly and raw about everything and one."

Not only did they behave unprofessionally and shit-talk before, they have now encoded in the rules that this is acceptable and even good moderator behavior, because they saw someone else do it so it's fine (a lot of this wording is very similar to what I was told when I protested it). So rather than address anything I ever said past or present, Benjimir is choosing to double down and giving himself and his team explicit permission to be shitty, right in the opening paragraphs where you'd have expected a mission statement or at least some sort of welcome.

Which is about all you need to know about that server and its owners, in my estimation. I'd considered not even posting to Tumblr about it, but given that it's only getting worse, I think it should be generally known that this is how you can expect to potentially be treated.

#FFXIV #FFXIV RP #Crystal Data Center #Crystal RP #Balmung RP #Mateus RP #on one hand it's drama on the other I can and will call a spade a spade or in this case a douchebag a douchebag #this shouldn't be surprising to anyone who knows me even a little

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lovinlikeloki · 3 years

Text

The Lone Wolf

Masterlist // 01

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2.7k

Orlaith and I get off the bus and start walking down the road.

"Where are ye going?" Orlaith asks me.

"I'm away de Saint Marie's, ye wanny join me?" I tell her.

"Aye, sure why not?"

"I finished a job last night and didn't get de give Eoghan the card," I say, brandishing a gold colored card, "I need to get paid and get me next one."

"Why do you do this?" Orlaith asks, shaking her head at me.

"Eoghan's letting me stay in one of the rooms at Saint M's. I'm earning my keep, besides, the money's good."

"If you say so," she shrugs.

We keep walking and then I pull her sleeve, to show her the alley we need to walk down. We reach the end and I pull off my school blazer, shoving it in my school bag and exchanging it for my green and grey striped hoodie. I push open the door to the old Catholic school, I see that people are already in, clearly people like to start drinking early, well, if 5 in the afternoon is early to you.

I pull Orlaith to the bar and I slam the gold card on the bar, making Eoghan look at me. He takes the card and puts it in the out box, he then lifts a wad of cash and gives it to me. He begins to tell me that someone called for me, someone who called me 'Malen'kaya Volchitsa.' Only two people have ever called me that...and one's... not here anymore, so I know exactly who's after me. And just in case I didn't, the name she left, 'Cáileach,' was a nice hint. The witch is a smart one, I'll tell you that much.

(Little she-wolf) (Witch)

I take the number she left and smirk at the gold card.

"We'll take two cokes Eoghan," I tell him before going to the corner table by the door, my table.

Orlaith follows me to the table and sits across from me, "Why's a witch looking for you?"

"Because after leaving me for two years she's finally reaching out," I reply.

"Okay...and what the fuck does that mean?"

"What it means is that I'm gonny be leaving for a bit. My sister needs me, and I can't leave her hanging, 'sides, I owe her."

"You have a sister? Since when?" my confused friend asks.

"Not by blood, not by law she's... emotionally? my sister. Yeah, let's go with that. Basically when I went missing two years ago she was there, we bonded, and she saved me. That's all you need to know," I finish.

Eoghan brings us our drinks and we thank him, I hand him back a tenner, he tells me that he'll be behind the bar if I need him and that we'll talk about this job later.

Orlaith and I stay at the table for a bit while we finish our drinks, talking about our day and how much we hate our math teacher. Then Orlaith gets a text from her mam saying that she needs to head home to do homework and have some family time, whatever that is. I wouldn't know, it's been a while since I was at 'home'. It doesn't matter though, this, Saint Marie's the mercenary job fair of a bar, this is my home now.

When Orlaith leaves I head up to the bar and sit on a stool. I look up at the dead pool to see who's been picked this week, the dead pool is fun for me because as a minor I'm not allowed to get picked, I can just sit and watch the chaos. Only downside is that I can't pick anyone, so... I mean it's a two-way street, so I guess that's fair.

"So, what's this witch after?" Eoghan questions.

"Not sure," I reply honestly, "But whatever it is, it must be important. We haven't spoken in two years, and last time we spoke, he was still alive."

"Him as in-" Eoghan begins.

"Yes, he as in my grá cáilte. She didn't even call me then, so whatever this is has de be big. It better be, or I might just hang up."

(Lost love)

"You won't. The stories you've told me- you wouldn't leave her. If you did you'd hate yourself. You can't bring do stóirín back, he's gone, but you can still help her."

(Your darling)

"You're right, it just breaks my heart, I had to find out they escaped from rumors and stories, but I found out that he died by watching it, live on tv. We had so much potential, he had so much potential, but now I'll never know. Glac siad a anam ró-ghasta."

(They took his soul too soon)

"You're right. But now she needs you. So go find out what the witch wants, and try your damndest to deliver," he says.

"I will," I say, smiling at him sadly, "Thanks, E."

"Not a bother," he assures me, smirking, "Mactíre."

(Wolf)

° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ ° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °

I dial the number, she picks up after a single ring.

"Wanda, it's been a while," I say, trying to stay happy even though I know hearing her voice again will probably bring tears.

"Fianna, it has," she says, and I inhale sharply. No tears, not now, not yet at least.

"So, what do you need me for so urgently?" I begin to cut the shit.

"I need help. I need a friend, I need a soldier. Are you available for some last-minute travelling?" she says hesitantly. Clearly I'm a last resort, a "break glass in case of emergency" type help.

"Of course, when and where?" I ask.

"I need you to get to Leipzig-Altenburg Airport asap. We'll get you where you need to be from there," Wanda explains.

"Yeah, uh, when exactly do you mean by asap?"

"I mean, like literally buy a last-minute flight and get on it, within the next two hours. It'll be a two-hour flight, I'll pick you up and we'll get where we need to go."

"Alright, fine. I just need to know, what I'm up against. You said you needed a soldier? I need to know what I'm fighting for before starting a war."

"This is... the fight of a lifetime. You'll be fighting for truth and... safety. Who you'll be up against? Some of my closest friends and some of the deadliest assassins in the last thirty years. Now are you in or are you out? I don't blame you if you're out, but it would really help."

Wanda sounds... more than desperate, she's hopeless, she needs me, more than she ever has. I've fought many's a fierce foe in my time, but Avengers? Deadly assassins? That's usually more than a smidge above my paygrade. But she needs me, she's calling in her last favor, she clearly thinks I'm up for it. I hesitate for a second, weighing my options before making a life-changing decision.

"I'm in. I'll be there in four hours, max," and with that I hang up.

Guess I'm going to Germany.

I walk back into the bar and go through the side door that brings me to the lodging. I go to my room at sit on my bed. I'm leaving. I begin to pack my shit, I pull my kitbag out from under my bed and begin filling it with clothes. Leggings, t-shirts, hoodies, leather jackets, everything I might need. I pack all the essentials and then begin to think of how I'll smuggle my brass knuckles through security. I lift my mattress and take out a couple hundred pounds in cash, shove it in my wallet and keep packing.

When I'm all packed I begin to forge a note from my 'mother' for the school so that I can get time off without them calling up people who haven't seen me in over a year and a half. I make a simple excuse of appendicitis, was rushed to hospital late tonight blah blah, they won't really care, the school year's nearly over. I just need something for show so that I don't get called out.

I text Orlaith, letting her know I'm being called out of the country. She questions me at first, but when I explain that Wanda needs me, and I can't let her down she lets me be. She says she'll drop in and pick up the note tomorrow morning before getting on the 212 to Coláiste Feirste.

(Belfast College {It's an Irish speaking high school})

Now I've just got to talk to Eoghan. I tell him to come to the lodging hall, behind the bar. He serves the last couple of drinks that were ordered and joins me in the back.

"I have de go de Germany," I tell him, "It seems above my paygrade, but she needs me and I gotta be there for her."

"Okay... do ye have enough for the flight?" he simply asks.

"Aye, I've got all I need, me kitbag's packed an' everythin'."

"Ye said above yer paygrade. What'd ye mean by that?"

"I'm not just fighting with Wanda's friends. I'm also fighting against a couple o' them."

"What? Naw- What the fuck Fianna!"

"Look, she needs me, Eoghan, I can't just leave her."

"You're not fighting them assholes."

"Yeah, I am, Eoghan."

"Naw you're not."

"You can't stop me. I tol' her I'm in, and I'm going," I say, standing up and throwing the strap of my kitbag over my shoulder.

"Fianna, ye can't just leave to fight those dickheads," he stands up.

"I'm away," I say firmly, walking out the door.

"Get your arse back here, now!"

"You're not my da, Eoghan. You can't make me stay."

"I might not be your da, but I'm the closest thing to a father you've had these past years. You better treat me with a bit more respect."

"Maybe," I shrug, "But I'll stick with this for now," I say, throwing up my middle finger before leaving the bar. The taxi I called beforehand pulled up and I got in.

"The airport," I tell the driver.

"Right," is the simple reply he gives me.

I get a text when we're about halfway to the airport.

I click my phone off and look out the window at the familiar city I've grown up in. All my life except a year was spent here. When I wasn't here I was with the twins, me becoming who I am, them becoming who they are... or were, and then I left them. Not by choice. Not on purpose. But I still left them.

But now I've got Wanda back, and while I don't know how long I'll be with her for, it will be good to see her. If only I could've seen him one last time before I left, spoke to him one last time, made sure nothing was left unsaid. Instead I'm here, he's gone, and I'll never know how things could've gone if perhaps I never left.

The driver stops at the airport entrance and lets me out, I pay him the fare and he takes it with a smile. I grab my bag, close the door, and go into the airport. I go to the desk and ask if there are any last-minute tickets to Leipzig-Altenburg I could get on. While there was a seat I could take, it cost a little more than a pretty penny. Luckily I had enough to buy it and went through security immediately. I opted for a pat-down rather than the metal detector and thanks to my damn good hiding spots the woman didn't find my brass knuckles.

I wait for the half hour before my flight and board along with the others. I get to my seat and sigh. A two-hour flight isn't long, it's just boring to sit through, no one to talk to and not long enough to sleep through. I just sit there messing on my phone for a bit, making faces at the baby looking through the gap between the chairs a couple rows in front of me.

When the plane finally lands I prepare myself. This is it. I have to fight Avengers. I have to fight deadly psycho assassins. But first. I have to see Wanda. For the first time in two years. For the first time since he died.

° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ ° ∆ -------- ••• ------- ∆ °

When I leave the airport I scan my surroundings and all the cars parked there. I stop when I come across a van that could be owned by no other, a white panel van with what I'd consider an iconic license plate: L: T34MC4P, I know that it's gotta be my ride. I go to the passenger side and knock on the window, the door opens, and I'm promptly enveloped in a hug.

"Someone order a conriocht?" I sat into my sister's shoulder.

(Werewolf)

She laughs and hugs me tighter, "I did, you little volk."

(Wolf)

I look at her with tears in my eyes, smiling sadly. She looks back at me with a similar expression and we just stay there in the embrace for a moment.

"Okay," I say, finally pulling away and wiping my tears away, "So who's ass do I have to kick?"

She laughs, wiping away her own tears, "No one's just yet. We gotta get there first, so get in the back."

"Back of a van?" I quirk an eyebrow, "Are there seats of does this look like a kidnapping?"

"There are seats, but they're laid down. Scott is sleeping on them, and I thought you'd want to stretch before we get there, human or not."

"That's fair, but the second I shift I'm gonna be stuck with Lu, you know that."

"I can get her to ease up, but you're stuck with her, you have to learn how to get along with her, okay?"

"Yes mom," I mock, "I'll see you on the other side."

I salute her before opening the back door, seeing a middle-aged man sleeping on the seats. Must be Scott. I climb behind the seats and lay down, shifting to the Mactíre, and as expected I hear Lu.

Lu is like a voice in my head, she's the canine and lupine instincts that got transferred during the experiments. She talks to me, mostly degrades me for my logic and emotions, planning things out rather than acting on instinct and figuring it out on the fly.

"So, she returns," Lu mocks.

"Yes, I've returned. Wanda needs help, she needs me, needs us to work together," I reply.

"Wanda? Wanda needs us?"

"Yes. And we're gonna work together. Right?"

"Yes. Of course. Anything for Wanda."

"Good. Now we're gonna be driving for a bit, so what do you suggest we do?"

"Sleep. Sleep is good. Sleep builds energy."

"Okay Lu, we'll sleep. But when we're fighting I need to take control, okay? I need to be able to focus."

"Okay Fi, you take control."

"Thank you."

And with that I begin to drift out of consciousness.

#peter parker x oc #peter parker x reader #spiderman x oc #spiderman x reader #peter parker #fianna macbhfloscaidh #the lone wolf #the lupine saga #nyx writes #jynx writes #pyre writes

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lunaofthevalley · 6 years

Text

Steadfast Tin Soldier ||

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Note: The long awaited and requested part two is here. Decided to make this a mini series of sorts so expect a part three as well.if you wanna be tagged comment or send me a message pand I'll ad you. Warnings: stupid Bucky

Y/N never imagined how much her life would change upon moving to the compound to start to work for Bruce. When her old boss told her he'd gotten her an interview for a proper job, a great one at that, she never thought it would land her working for the Avengers, or well a Avenger seeing as she exclusively worked under Bruce, but as time passed and relationships grew, Y/N found herself being a helping hand to everyone. If you took a look at her you'd never think of her as someone who had a career in science. That's why Y/N loved her chosen lifestyle, she was always surprising people, and she, herself loved surprises, and ever since she started working at the compound her life seemed to be even more full of them. But the greatest surprise came in the form of one James Buchanan Barnes.

She of course knew who he was, or more specifically who he had been. Upon being employed, Y/N was given a briefing on everyone who held a high position at the compound, which mostly consisted of the Avengers and a few select others, like Fury and Agent Hill. So of course she knew all about him, or more specifically, what she was allowed at that moment to know. She had been told of his past. His service to the army during the Second World War, his supposed death due to falling of a train, the years he spent being tortured by HYDRA, the atrocities he was made to commit while he was under control as the Winter Soldier. But if you asked her honestly she could care less about it. She was told he was a changed man, and she fully believed it, even if others that had known him longer still didn't.

When she finally saw him face to face she was a bit taken aback. You could tell he had been through a lot. His eyes gave it away. She could also tell he was an attractive man, under the unkempt long hair and slight beard he seemed to have. He was big, way more than her, the years of work and service evident in his body. She of course was also quite taken by the metal arm he sported. It was not the same one he had killed with before, no this was the brand new one, provided by the Wakandans. He'd caught her gaze that day, as she gave him the once over, and when she looked up at his face again, their eyes met. What had been surprising not only to her, but also to Bucky, was that she had not looked away in embarrassment, as many would do. Y/N seemed to have gained this new found confidence right there and then because her eyes didn't stray from the soldiers blue ones at that moment.

Y/N didn't see him again until a week after. He'd changed a bit. He no longer had much of a beard as he did before, it was more of a scruff now, as if he'd let it grow lightly, but not to much that it looked bad. His hair had been trimmed too. It was still long, more neater. It reached a little above his shoulders, but below the jawline. It didn't look unkept now, it looked, softer, lighter and not as greasy as the day she had first seen him. She started seeing a lot more of him after that day, and they had begun to communicate. Sure it took a while for them to actually start having proper conversations, but no matter how small the amount of time Y/N and Bucky spent together was, she always cherished it.

She had slowly but surely begun to be enchanted by James Buchanan Barnes.

She was actually thinking about him the moment Natasha and Wanda burst into her room, going off about some party Stark was planning, involving costumes, which she reckoned had to do with Halloween which was a couple of weeks away now. She wasn't much surprised at the news of the party. It would be her first one at the compound, but she knew of Stark's love for extravagant celebrations, so she expected it.

"How exciting, you'll be experiencing your first Stark party, and lucky for you it's themed." Wanda told her with much enthusiasm, which Y/N couldn't help but smile at.

Natasha made a face, "I wouldn't go so far as to call it lucky. But don't get me wrong you'll have fun."

Y/N gave the, each a once over. The three of them had quickly become friends after she had started working and living at the compound. Being the only three women in a group made up mostly of men was sometimes overbearing, but they had each other, so they tended to stick together to make things more bearable.

"So, do you know what you'll be dressing up as?" Y/N asked.

"Don't know yet actually," Nat was the first to respond. "Might go for something simple, but sexy, y'know, show off the bod."

"You're always showing off the bod in that catsuit of yours." Y/N argued.

Nat nodded, "Yes, but this time I might get to do it as a sexy fireman or even better a sexy Avenger!"

"But you are an Avenger." Wanda butted in.

"I mean yeah, but imagine me showing up as a sexy Iron Man or a sexy Captain America. Imagine how Steve would react." All three took a moment to imagine how said scenario would go down before bursting into a fit of laughter. It would be quite comical if it were to happen, and Y/N would put it past Nat to actually dress up like that just to get a kick out of one of the guys.

"What about you Wanda, any ideas?" Y/N asked.

"Well like Nat said, I also want to do something simple. Was thinking of a witch, simple enough I only have to buy a few accessories, seeing as I have enough black clothing already." Y/N and Nat giggled lightly at that. Wanda then turned to Y/N and asked the same question.

"Oh, I don't know yet. I mean I did only just find out about it. Maybe I could do the same as Nat, dress up as one of the guys, though I'd much rather go for the normal version than the sexy one."

Nat scoffed. "You'd look great in a sexy costume, you have a great figure. Your dainty, but muscular, you got curves and a good northern and southern region."

Y/N blushed at the comment Nat made, "Look who's talking."

"Hmm I might have an idea," Nat and Y/N turned to look at her, "Y/N, didn't you use to be a dancer?"

Y/N raised her eyebrows, "Uh yeah I was, nothing professional but yeah. How did you know?"

"You must've mentioned it before or something."

"Oh." Y/N didn't recall ever telling Wanda, but she supposed it could've come up in a conversation at some point.

"You could dress up as a Ballerina. It would be perfect." Nat offered.

"You think so?"

"Yeah, no one will show up as a ballerina, because let's face it, it's not really a very Halloween-y costume, which makes it perfect seeing you will be the only one."

"Well... I still have some of my ballet costumes from my last recital which wasn't that long ago."

"See," Wanda said quickly, "you wouldn't spend any money.

"Well when you say it like that it doesn't sound so bad."

"No more arguing Y/N, you're going as a Ballerina." Nat said proudly.

_________________________

"So you want me to dress up as a soldier for Stark's stupid party?" Bucky asked, "Why?"

Steve looked at Bucky as they were currently sat in front of each other in the common room. "Uh no reason, just thought it suited you."

"Why because I was a soldier?"

"Well yes, but also because I remembered that story you used to go on about back in the forties."

"The Steadfast Tin Soldier. You want me to dress up as the Steadfast Tin Soldier?" Bucky wanted to laugh. He found it quite odd that out of everything Steve could've brought up, he brought up this. The one thing Bucky had always used as a metaphor to his life.

"Well not exactly, but yes. You're not someone who tends to go all out with this sort of thing so I thought I could help, and I remembered how much you used to like the tale, so I thought I'd suggest the idea. Thought it would remind you of the good old days."

"But wouldn't I look out of place," Bucky asked, "The Steadfast Tin Soldier is a toy soldier, isn't that a little more adept to Christmas time?

"Well yea but Christmas is just around the corner from Halloween, and besides I don't think anyone will care." Steve tried to reassure him, but Bucky still looked uneasy. "Look if it really doesn't appeal to you, you can dress up with Sam and I. He's going as a bald eagle and I'm going as Uncle Sam, you could dress up as the American flag to complete our group costume."

Bucky instantly made a face. "You know I think I'd rather try my luck with the toy Soldier. Patriotism is more your and Sam's thing."

Steve smirked knowing his tactic had worked, "I'm glad to hear you say that. We'll be going to the city next week to buy the costumes."

"Alright punk."

________________________

The days came and went and before anyone knew it te day of the party was among them. Tony had scheduled it to be the weekend before Halloween. He had made it a rather private affair, inviting mostly only staff members of the compound and a select few other outsiders, but all in all it was still a grand party, but then again it was a Stark party, so it could be nothing short of grand. The party was occurring in the hall, the biggest room in the compound. It was normally used for when they had big conferences or meetings with most of the resident staff, and it was also built to be used for parties. Almost everyone was there already. Sam and Steve were currently the center of attention, with their very patriotic costume. Sam honestly looked ridiculous in the bald eagle get up, and well Steve who always seems to ooze patriotism and freedom seemed to be doing so more tonight. Natasha had indeed showed up dressed as a sexy Captain America, which had also indeed made Steve as red as a tomato for a couple of minutes. All three of them probably had the best group costume. That is until Clint and his family showed up. Clint strolled in looking as mighty as ever dressed up as Legolas. He thought he would give honor to the nickname Tony gave him, and he got a silver lining out of it as well, the greatest group costume of the night. Laura, his wife was dressed as Galadriel, while his kids were dressed up as hobbits.

Bruce showed up dresses as Albert Einstein, and he looked adorable with the big wig and bushy mustache. Wanda in the end opted to go as a fortune teller after having seen the most amazing baggy pants she had ever seen for sale at forever 21, which she matched with a black crop top she had lying around, a scarf that belonged to Y/N on her head and an about a hundred pieces of jewelry. Vision had probably gone for the simplest of costumes, deciding to just cut some holes into a sheet and go as a ghost. Rhodes was dressed in a bright purple suit with a frilly shirt, and he was sporting a wig. He was dressed as Prince, which if it wasn't already obvious, you'd get the idea after hearing him sing a horrible rendition of purple rain. And as seemed to be a recurring theme at the party, Tony and Peter also showed up in a group costume, or well a couples costume as it's technically called, but since they weren't actually a couple they decided to go with the term bro-stume, as in a costume of bros. it was obvious it had been Peter who had come up with the title. They were dressed up as Marty McFly and Doc from back to the future. Although the best costume of the night award probably had to go to Thor, who showed up dressed as a giant pop tart. Everyone knew of the love he possessed for the sweet treats, but they never thought he loved them so much he'd actually dress up as one.

Bucky was by the bar observing everything going on at the party. He had dressed up as the Toy soldier, like Steve suggested, and he honestly felt a bit ridiculous, with the big hat on his head and the obnoxious blue and red tones of the jacket. Don't even get him started on his tight white pants. The only thing about the costume Bucky was quite alright with were the black boots. It was then that the patriotic trio approached him at the bar.

"Why so glum chum?" Nat asked.

Bucky shrugged in response, "Don't know, I'm not really used to this sort of thing remember. This is my first party in over 75 years, and it's a costume one at that. Don't remember the last time I dressed up like this."

"C'mon, cheer up Buck, don't think about all that tonight, try to have fun." Steve reassured his best friend.

"Is Barnes in a funk because his sweetheart isn't here?" The four of them turned to see Tony and Peter approaching.

"What sweetheart?" Bucky asked confused.

"Oh you know, little miss lab assistant."

Peter cut in, "He means Y/N."

Bucky gave Tony a sharp look, "What makes you think she's my sweetheart, we're just friends."

"Right, just like me and Pepper are friends. Come on Barnes we all see how you look at her as if she were the last plum in the world. And I only say plum because I know you have an ungodly love for those things."

At that moment a six foot pop tart appeared, "Whats this I hear about ungodly love?"

"Oh nothing, just bothering Barnes about his school crush on Y/N." Sam explained.

"Oh I see." Thor nodded, "By the way, where is Lady Y/N, I am most excited to see her costume."

"Hmm yes, I wonder what she'll be dressed at." Tony said in a humorous tone, which earned him several pointed looks from the patriotic trio.

"Well wonder no more mister Stark, because she just arrived." Peter nodded towards the entrance closest to the bar, which also was the one that led to the private quarters of the compound.

Everyone in the small group turned to look at Y/N. Bucky's mouth hung open in shock the moment he laid eyes on her, and even the rest of them, who already knew what she would be dressed up as, did a double take at seeing her. She was wearing a white leotard, accompanied by an also white, slightly sparkly tutu that had pink details on it. Right below her shoulders she was wearing those frilly things ballerinas sometimes wear. Her legs were covered in white tights, but not the solid kind, she was wearing the see through type, the ones were you get a peek at her natural tone of skin, but it's still evident that the tights are white. She was wearing her old pair of pointe shoes, the light pink ones that matched the outfit. On the crown of her head rested a small tiara/diadem type of thing, which was rose gold in color and was adorned with fake pink and white jewels. Her Y/H/C hair fell in loose waves down her back instead of being held up in a tight bun as it is usually on a ballerina. She was wearing more make up than usual, but not a whole lot that her face looked cakey. She looked natural. She looked ethereal.

Bucky swore in that moment that she was not only the ballerina to his soldier, but that she was also an angel that may or may not have been sent to him.

As Y/N approached the group she started to blush deeply at feeling all eyes on her. She immediately started to have second thoughts on her costume. Once she was close enough to the group she dared ask the question, "Why are you all looking at me like that, is my costume bad?" In that moment everyone started talking.

"No, no you-you look beautiful doll."

"Lady Y/N, you are most divine this evening."

"The lab assistant turned into a graceful swan. Get it, swan lake reference."

"You look g-great miss Y/N, like a princess."

"Told you you had a great body."

"Hot damn girl, we need to get you out more."

"You look great Y/N"

Y/N blushed even more at all the comments, "Well thank you for the reassurance."

Everyone got quiet after that, no one daring to disrupt the awkward silence that had consumed the small group. That is until Tony opened his big smart mouth.

"Would you look at that."

Everyone turned to him, but it was Y/N that had voiced what everyone was thinking, "Look at what."

"You and Barnes."

She looked at Bucky before looking back at Tony. "What about me and Bucky?"

"I just found it funny that you're dressed as a ballerina and he's dressed up as a toy soldier." When no one said anything he continued, "You know, like that fairytale."

That's when it clicked in Y/N's mind, "Oh, you mean the Steadfast Tin Soldier?"

"Yep, that's the one" Tony quickly replied.

That's when Y/N looked over at Bucky and took in his costume. He was indeed dressed up as a toy soldier. He looked quite dashing actually. She then remembered the tale. She'd only heard it a few times before but she remembered the basic plot of it. Of how a Tin soldier had fallen in love with a ballerina. As she though more about it, she remembered more of the story, how it happened that the Tin Soldier was also missing a body part, much like Bucky. Only difference being Bucky had a metal one attached in its place. Everything had become quiet again, and it was obvious that the suddenly topic of conversation made Bucky a little tense. He didn't dare look at Y/N in fear of being judged, but contrary to his belief Y/N was quite pleased with the outcome of their accidental compatible costumes.

Y/N cleared her throat and turned to Bucky, "Say would this Tin Soldier fancy a dance, I know this ballerina does, and I don't think there is a better partner than you."

Bucky struggled to say something, he looked like a deer caught in headlights. He stood gaping at her for a few seconds before Steve lightly nudged him, "I- uh, sure doll, I'd love to." He slowly held out his flesh hand and she lightly placed hers on his. There was a drastic difference. His big, calloused, war torn hands and her small, frail soft ones. A soldier's hands and a ballerina's hands. Bucky led Y/N out to the dance floor and once they found themselves in the middle of it Bucky turned to Y/N, hesitance evident on his face. He still had her hand in his flesh one, which meant he'd have to place the metal one on Y/N's waist. He'd never touched her before with his metal limb, so Y/N guessed he was afraid to do so at the moment. She reached out and grabbed his metal wrist, and placed it tightly on her waist before inching closer and placing her hand on his shoulder.

"You won't hurt me Bucky."

"I'd never dare to doll."

A few seconds of silence loomed over them before Y/N spoke up. "It's quite funny isn't it, that our costumes relate in a way."

Bucky nodded, "Yea, you look beautiful by the way. Quite the original choice of costume."

Y/N blushed a light shade of pink, "Thank you, it wasn't my first choice but Nat and Wanda insisted on it, and now that I see the finished product I'm kind of glad they did."

That's the moment it click in Bucky's mind. Why Steve insisted on him dressing up as a soldier, Tony bringing it up right now, Nat and Wanda telling Y/N to dress up as a ballerina. They had both been played at the same time and they never noticed, and for what reason exactly Bucky didn't know. Steve knew Bucky liked Y/N, he'd accidentally let it slip one time during a run, and ifs he's being honest he's not exactly the most subtle when it comes to her, so he didn't put it past the team for noticing. He didn't know why the team went through all the trouble to try and set them up like this. Y/N had never given him a reason to believe she felt the same as he did. And even if she did , he didn't deserve her. Bucky then began to internally panic. She deserved someone better in her life, someone who was completely stable, who didn't have as rough a past as him, someone who was better than him. He stopped dancing and stepped back from her looking down at her confused features. She was about to say something but before she could he cut her off, "I'm so sorry doll, but I have to go." And with out a glance back he bolted out of the room, leaving her in the center of the room all alone. The rest of the team watched in horror as Bucky quickly left the party. None of them had expected Bucky to do that. Out of all the possible outcomes tonight could have, that one was never even considered.

"God damn it Barnes, one tries to help and you do this." Tony sighed.

"Lady Y/N looks sad."

Wanda turned to Thor, "Of course she's sad, she just got left in the middle of the dance floor by the guy she likes!"

"Frosty screwed up big time." Clint added.

While they all argued over their failed attempt at getting Y/N and Bucky together, said girl still stood in the same spot in which Bucky had left her. She still stared at the door, in hopes that this was all a joke and he'd come back. But things aren't a fairytale. And in that moment the Ballerina lost her Soldier.

TSTS TAGS: @hadesgirl1015 @holycoldcoffee

#james buchanan barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfic #The steadfast tin soldier #avengers #avengers masterlist #marvel #mcu #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #lunawrites

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