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thatrandomwriter · 11 months

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Jealousy

Billy Loomis x Reader

warnings: controlling relationship, violence, character death

summary: Billy gets jealous when reader has a male friend, and they get into a serious argument, prompting him to seek his revenge as Ghostface.

“The fuck was that?” Billy grabbed my arm as I walked out of the school building after last period.

“What do you mean?” I replied. I knew why he was annoyed, but I wanted to give him the chance to pick something more reasonable to be upset about.

He grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop on the pavement, allowing other students to filter past us,. “Don’t play dumb with me - you were flirting with that dick Ryan all class.” his eyes were dark, angry. It wasn’t unlike him to fly into a jealous rage virtually unprompted, but the frequency of it made it no less frustrating.

“He’s my friend. And we sit next to each-other, what do you expect me to do, ignore him?” I felt my face heating up.

“I expect you not to flirt with other guys right in front of me,” he was almost shouting - I was sure that he would be, if we weren’t out in public.

“Oh my God, Billy, we weren’t flirting!”

“You can’t talk to him anymore.” Billy’s face was determined, unflinchingly serious.

“You can’t tell me what to do,” I moved to walk away, but his arms were on my shoulders, his face close to mine. My eyes flicked down to his lips - despite my anger, I still found him insanely attractive. He seemed to pick up on my moment of distraction, shaking his head at me.

“Come on, baby. Can’t you just listen to me? I know exactly what’s going on inside that guy’s head,” his voice softened a bit, and he leaned down to kiss me, gentle and persuasive. I felt my heartbeat quicken, but he pulled away after no more than a few seconds.

“I’m sorry, Billy. But you can’t ban me from talking to people, that’s not how this works,”

He turned away from me, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. If you want to act like a slut, be my guest, but just know that I won’t put up with that shit.”

The insult stung. I felt tears pricking at my eyes, but I blinked them away. “You know what, I’ve had enough of this. You can talk to me again when you realise how ridiculous you’re being, but until then, I’m done with this.” I marched away. He tried to pull me back towards him once again, but I shrugged away his hands. Maybe once he cooled off, we could fix this. Or maybe this was it for us. My tears returned at that thought, stinging and blurring my eyes as I walked home from school.

I was home alone when my phone rang, the harsh sound making me jump. I hoped that it was Billy, calling to make up with me, to apologise for being such a dick, and to tell me he understood. Or at least Tatum, so that I could complain about how he was yet to make up with me, and how awful he was being.

“Hello,” The voice was deep and unfamiliar.

“Hello, who is this?” I replied.

There was a chuckle from the caller, “Forgotten about me already? I’m hurt,”

“Billy, is that you? If you wanna talk, at least stop using that stupid voice,”

“You don’t make the rules anymore - this is my game. And trust me when I tell you, you don’t wanna lose.”

“Why not - are you gonna punish me?” I teased him, lighthearted, though a sense of dread was creeping over me. If it was Billy on the line, something felt different, and it wasn’t just the voice he was using.

“That’s exactly right. If you lose, I’ll make it slow, and painful, until you’re begging me to make it stop,”

There was a lump in my throat. My mouth was suddenly dry, “And if I win?” I managed to force the words out. It reminded me of what the police had been saying - that Ghostface had been using a voice changer to call his victims before they ended up dead. Scaring me like this was a sick way for Billy to punish me for our earlier argument.

“I’ll make it quick,”

“Billy, come on, this isn’t funny. Let’s just talk, okay?” My voice trembled slightly. I cleared my throat in an attempt to keep it steady, but it was useless, “We can work this out,”

“But we are working this out. What do you think this is? Now, are you ready to play?”

“No. I’m not playing your game,” I replied. The words were stronger than my tone, still shaky.

Billy, if it was him, tutted mockingly at me, “Forfeiting is an automatic loss. You sure you want to do that?”

“I’m sure. Just come and talk to me, please,” If I saw him in person, I could get through to him.

There was a click as he hung up the phone. And no more than a second later, the crashing sound of a window being smashed. This was not Billy; whoever it was had meant their threat, and was coming for me. I dropped the phone on my bed and sprung to my feet, running to my bedroom window. The drop was too far - but maybe I could climb up instead, onto the roof? Surely he wouldn’t think to look for me there. But there were footsteps on the stairs, far too fast, far too close. I had wasted precious seconds panicking and planning. The only place I could think to hide was under my bed - awfully cliche, surely the first place he would think to look, but maybe I could yank him over by the ankles from under there, and give myself enough of a head start to get out of the house. I grabbed a pair of scissors from my desk and dropped to the floor, rolling under my bed just as a pair of black boots appeared around my doorframe. My unsteady breathing, or the sound of my heart thumping in my chest was sure to give me away, I was convinced of it. But he stepped closer and closer, until his toes were right by my face. I could see black robes hanging around his ankles, and without seeing the mask, I knew that it was Ghostface.

If I wanted to live, I had only one shot at this. With all my strength, I gripped his right ankle, and yanked it towards me. He hit the floor, hard, and I scrambled out from under the bed, running for the stairs. He seemed to have taken inspiration from my move, however, grabbing my ankle as I ran past. I landed on my elbows, inches away from a broken nose. The breath had been knocked out of my body. I could see the mask now, as Ghostface tried to stand, but I kicked at his shins, sitting up and desperately trying to scoot away from him. He still followed, yanking me to stand up with him, gripping tightly onto my wrist. I raised my scissors with my free hand, ramming them as hard as I could into his shoulder. The sensation made me want to throw up. But he let go of me, staggering backwards, and I took off again, out of my bedroom, into the hallway, down the stairs. I chanced a glance behind me - the scissors had not held up Ghostface for long. The white mask leered down at me from the landing. In his good arm, he had raised a knife. My hands felt empty, now that I had thrown away my last defence. I had to get out of the front door.

I ran, breath burning my lungs. Broken glass from the front window caught in one of my feet, and I stuttered, almost falling at the pain. Every step seemed to drive it deeper, but adrenaline kept me moving and I had no time to slow down; Ghostface was faster than me. Despite my head start, I could hear his breath behind me, and just as I had stepped out of the door, a gloved hand had grabbed my arm once again, this time with no chance of letting go. He pulled me back into the house, slamming me against a wall. I felt dizzy.

“Please, please don’t kill me. I’ll do anything, I’ll play your game, whatever you want,” My defiance was long gone.

“Oh, so now you want to do as I say?” The voice that came from under the mask was no longer deep and artificial. My eyes burned, and I felt a tear escape, rolling down my cheek. Billy brought his knife to my neck.

“Baby, please, I’m sorry, okay? I should’ve listened to you - you know what’s best, you were right, okay?”

“Don’t lie to me. You know I hate it when you lie to me,” His voice was devoid of any gentleness, any love. It felt just as unfamiliar as when he had been on the phone.

“I’m not lying, I swear,”

“You fucking stabbed me with a pair of scissors you bitch - we are long past you getting out of this alive,”

I tried to shove away at him, but all it succeeded in doing was pressing his knife further into my neck. He reached up slowly with his bad arm to lift the mask from his face. Hair hung wild in his face - I loved combing my fingers through it, pushing it to the side when it hung down so that I could look him in the eyes. Now, his eyes were dark and filled with what I could only describe as loathing. I wanted nothing more than to look away, but I was fixated on him, the way that his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth twitched.

“Now, I want you to be able to see my face when this happens. I want you to look me in the eyes, and know how much you’ve hurt me - how much I wish you hadn’t made me do this,”

This felt absurd, it was utterly unreal, “You still don’t have to, please, we can forget about all this,”

Billy shook his head, leaning down until his lips met mine in a kiss. It was slow, deep - a goodbye. His free hand cupped the side of my face in what should have been a loving gesture. Maybe this could somehow make him realise that he didn’t want to lose me? That if he only kept me alive, I could make him happy. I kissed him back, and his knife lowered from my neck. His teeth grazed my bottom lip and I parted them for him, feeling him groan against me as he slid his tongue into my mouth. Tentatively, I reached my arm up around him, slow enough to communicate that I meant no harm. When he did not shove it away, I grabbed at the back of his clothes to pull him in closer, allowing the other hand to tangle in his hair. His kisses became faster, more desperate, stealing my breath with their intensity, and it was all I could do to keep up with him, the power of his tongue and his teeth slowly turning the fear I was feeling into desire. He pulled back for a second, eyes steady on mine as I panted slightly.

And then I felt cold, hard pressure in my stomach. I looked down. This kiss had been a goodbye after all, nothing more than a delusion, a distraction while he decided exactly where to place his knife. He kissed me again as he twisted the blade, swallowing my cry of pain. He kissed away the tears that fell down my cheeks, before yanking the knife out of me. My head span as pain overcame me - so much for adrenaline. I clutched the wound in my side, my hands soaking almost immediately.

“You’re so beautiful covered in blood, baby,” Billy’s eyes glittered as I slumped down the wall, legs giving out as I slid to the floor.

“Fuck you,” there was no point in niceties or persuasion - the deed was done. Patches of the world around me had gone shiny with dancing splotches. My heart was thundering and it was almost as if I could feel its rhythm in my wound as I attempted to contain the blood pouring out of it.

Billy chuckled, “I’d be a little nicer to the guy with the knife, if I were you,”

“What, or you’ll kill me faster?”

“Don’t be silly - that wasn’t part of the game. I can’t kill you faster, but I can make it a whole lot more painful,”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please don’t,”

“You’d deserve it - you had my heart, you know that? And you decided to throw it away, to rip it apart and cause all of this, just so that you could flirt with another guy. I loved you. But no-one gets to treat me like that, to break my heart. No-one,” Billy was ranting, red faced, wielding his knife in a way that made me want to run, or at least step back. But I was trapped between him and the wall, the deep cut in my stomach prevented me even from standing. He crouched down, eyes level with mine. “God, I wish I’d known how good you’d look covered in blood. Maybe I would’ve done this sooner,”

I couldn’t help the sob that escaped my chest, the shake of it sending a jolt of pain through me.

“Come on, baby, don’t look so sad - I’m doing the right thing,” He caressed the side of my face with his knife, trailing it down from my cheek to my neck.

“Billy, I love you, please just call an ambulance, we can fix this,” I managed to choke out.

“We both know it’s too late for that.” Billy sat beside me, gently shifting my weight downwards so that my head could rest in his lap. He brushed the hair out of my face as the world fell away, and I was engulfed in darkness.

#scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #oneshot #imagine #scream fanfic #tatum riley #ghostface #ghostface x reader #slashers #slasher x reader

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sukunasweetheart · 6 months

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can i just say i love your fics SMMMM my serotonin boost fr!!! what do we think abt him with an s/o who has a lot of admirers 👁

THANK YOUU here is a treat 4 u <3

sorry i ended up doing too much and also going off-topic a bit oops

it ended up becoming modern au!sukuna 😭 forgive me (gender neutral reader)

sukuna is so used to being the one overshadowing the others - he's used to being the one admired, revered, respected, for his power and intelligence. it's safe to say he'd also be used to seeing people fight each other just for a lick of his attention - desiring for even just a glance from his way. so it's a given that he's not used to feelings of possessiveness or jealousy.

but now that he has you, someone who always has others admiring you from both closeby and afar, he's beginning to understand those petty sensations and thoughts. he's obviously never one to be insecure about your popularity, on most occasions, he even likes to make a show of it - he enjoys seeing them gnashing their teeth with envy as he flaunts his relationship with you in front of their faces - "see this? all mine," he seems to say, as he openly kisses you in public.

but when it catches him on a bad day, perhaps following a bad argument, he sees you with someone who is obviously interested in being more than just a friend to you (which you're not aware of, frustratingly so), and he starts feeling sick to his stomach. with everyone else who came before you, sukuna would simply tell them "don't like it? then leave," whenever they voiced complaints to him about their relationship... but now it's the opposite of what he wants. just the thought of you being with someone that isn't him gets his heart dropping to the ground, making him feel restless.

he knows he isn't the best at being soft. nor at using the kindest words when he gets heated. he'll always be more selfish than selfless, and he's not the most emotionally intelligent. it's unlike him to use words like 'i'm sorry' or 'i love you' so he's uneasy for the moment where you might find someone who'll be everything that he isn't amongst your sea of admirers, and that you'll leave him and never look back.

it's simply so humiliating, feeling this way... he's not sure what to do about it. you seem to be seriously upset this time around, and he knows brushing past it or glossing over it using his usual charm (which is a bad habit that he has) isn't going to work. you're not acknowledging him or responding to his texts properly or saying good morning or goodnight and it's driving him insane because he misses it... you're not looking at him. he's the one gazing at you, longingly.

sukuna will pin you down eventually, somewhere, somehow, and trap you so that you're not able to avoid him any longer. he'll drag you away from your stupid little crowd of spectators and talk to you in private, where'll spend ten minutes trying to apologise in a strange, roundabout and aggressive way because he knows it's his own damn fault. you know him, so you're able to recognise that he's trying to say sorry. your gaze is still elsewhere, looking off to the side instead of him. and that bothers him immensely.

"why won't you look at me?" god, he sounds so sad and pathetic.

truth is, sukuna now simply withers out and dies a little without your attention. what can he do to have that spotlight upon him once again? why are your eyes on anybody, anything, that isn't him? pay attention to me, and me only.

when you finally spare him a glance, he feels like breathing again. and he'll fight tooth and nail to keep that gaze of yours on him. fuck your insignificant and measly admirers. he's all you need, and sukuna's going to make sure of it. (he'll compromise for you, if he has to.)

he's definitely overstimming you in bed that night, in order to catch up on all the lost pride and attention that you'd deprived him of.

tagging; @gojos-thot-patrol <3 hope its to your liking.. even tho its not as angsty as i originally intended it to be haha

Masterlist

#he's basically like a cat meowing at you for attention #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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dragon-kazansky · 6 months

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Spirit of the sea

Izzy Hands x reader (GN)

You were a member of Blackbeard's crew long ago. Then you became a ghost story. Izzy Hands only sees you in his dreams these days, until he sees you for real when investigating Stede Bonnet. This sets him on a rollercoaster of emotions between you and what his captain is doing.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Slight angst. Izzy's feelings are hurt, but he won't admit it unless you back him into a corner. He's mellowing out with you though.

Chapter Four - Just like before

♡♡♡

A lighthouse. With the use of items on the ship, and the participation of the crew, Stede Bonnet and Edward Teach turned the ship into a lighthouse. The Spanish turned around, believing they got lost in the fog.

The Revenge managed to escape.

You had to admit that was insanely clever of your captain.

Later that night, while the crew slept, you sat on the steps and looked up at the dark sky. Everyone was pretty much asleep, except for the captains you could hear chatting up in the nest.

The only person you couldn't see was Izzy.

You didn't want to disturb the sleeping crew by getting up to search for your old friend. You just hoped he was okay. Izzy wasn't one for showing how he felt about things, unless that feeling was anger or annoyance.

Come morning you are woken up strange sounds. You open your eyes and look around to find Izzy loading up a dingy with stuff. You sit up in confusion. He hasn't noticed you, too busy doing what he's doing.

"Izzy?" You call his name softly.

He doesn't stop.

You stand up and walk over to him, frowning. "Izzy..."

"I said some things I regret last night."

"Oh?" You come to stand beside him.

"Some shit to Blackbeard... I didn't mean any of it."

You glance up at the captains. Ed is looking down at you with a nod. You take a deep breath and turn back to Izzy.

"He knows you didn't mean them."

Izzy grabs at the rail of the ship.

"I bet he has a plan, you know. He always has a plan."

"Yeah..."

You sigh softly. "Izzy, can we talk?"

He inhales softly. "Guess so."

"I'm sorry you thought I was dead. I'll keep apologising if I have to. Whatever it takes to make it up to you. I never meant for that to happen. I got trapped onboard the ship that day. No one would have known because my dumbass decided to wander below deck on my own to see what I could find. It was stupid of me. Anyway, I jumped off deck the moment I could and I had every intention of coming back to you. I was too late."

Izzy clenched his fists.

"Izzy... It was never meant to be that way. I'm sorry, okay?"

"Whatever. Doesn't matter," he says. "You're here now."

You don't know if that's his way of saying he forgives you or what, but you'll take it. Izzy is complicated.

"Don't leave. Please."

You can hear his slight breathing as he thinks about it. His head then turns in your direction and you can see his eyes more clearly.

"He's still got it."

You smile. "Don't think it ever left. Our Blackbeard, eh?"

Izzy exhales a chuckle.

"Don't go, Izzy. I can't make it up to you if you leave..."

Izzy says nothing and you take that as your sign to leave him with his thoughts. Man needs time to think.

An hour later you realise the dingy is back on the boat and Izzy is still onboard.

You smile at the sight of him.

♡♡♡

Turns out there is a plan. Ed apparently had a talk with Izzy shortly after your talk with him. A ploy to kill off Blackbeard. Except, not really.

Stede is already wearing Blackbeard's clothes. Kill the man, say the great Blackbeard is dead, Ed gets to be Edward. Izzy would then proceed to be captain of his own crew.

It was definitely a plan.

In the meantime, Edward has told Stede he would show him what it meant to be a pirate. The first step was a raid. You laughed at the idea of taking Stede Bonnet onto a ship to loot.

Izzy had relaxed a little around you. Not enough for the crew of the Revenge to notice, bit enough for you to see. You look at him as Edward explains to Stede's crew the plan for the raid.

Izzy is looking at you. You fight back a smile. At least he's looking at you.

"Crew of Revenge, you are not to engage. You are simply here to observe how real pirates function in the real world." Izzy addresses the crew.

You hide your smile.

"Quick question, how violent do we expect this to get?" Stede asks.

Pretty violent was his answer.

It felt good to use your sword again. This was the life you were used to. This is how it always should be. You were to busy fighting to take an notice on if Izzy was watching you. After all, it was Izzy who taught you how to use a sword.

While the crew looted, you made your way over to Izzy's side.

"That was fun."

He sniffs, looking at the bodies on the deck. "Yeah, was a bit. Where's that pathetic excuse of a pirate gone?"

"Believe he's below deck looting. Ed went to find him."

Izzy nods his head and then looks at you. "You still got it."

You smile, not even pretending hearing that didn't make you happy. "Yeah. Can't ever forget everything you've taught me, Izzy."

He almost smiles.

"Hurry up and grab what you can."

"Aye, Mr Hands," you tease, leaving his side to go loot for yourself. Izzy follows you with his eyes, biting back another smile.

♡♡♡

"A party?" You ask, looking at Ed and Stede.

"Some posh gathering for rich folk. Frenchie found the invitation," Stede explains.

"And you want to go to it?" You look at your captain. Blackbeard shrugs. "He's gonna need a new outfit."

"Ah, leave that to me." Stede goes into his secret closet. You turn back to Ed.

"Is this part of the plan?" You ask.

"Yeah. Kinda. Just let me handle this, okay?"

"Yeah, course."

"So, you spoke to Izzy?" Ed asks, looking at you gently.

"Yeah. We spoke. He at least doesn't hate me any more."

"Ah, he never hated you."

"He did a little bit. Be honest, Ed." You say to him.

"He never hated you. Not really. It's just hard for him to be open."

You nod your head quietly. Stede returns with a purple suit in hand. You notice the ribbons on top of the pile. You took this as your sign to leave them to it.

♡♡♡

Up on deck you find Izzy lowering Lucius down the side of the ship. You raise an eyebrow in his direction.

"The fuck?"

Izzy glances up at you. "Got a little job for Spriggs. Caught him slacking."

"Barnacle duty? Oof." You peer down at where Lucius sits. "Shit job."

"Aye. Will teach him a bloody lesson." Izzy walks off. You send Lucius a sorry smile before following the brooding first mate.

"Anything you want me to do?"

"Whatever the fuck you like. I'm trying to get this crew onto shape," Izzy sighs.

"Will you at least look at me again?"

Izzy stops what he's doing and turns, looking at you. You smile at him. "That's better. Is our friendship healing?"

"Shut up."

You chuckle as he walks away.

♡♡♡

A little time passes when Izzy storms past you looking a little miffed. You watch him for a moment before following after him.

"Some thing happen?"

"That useless twat is gone," he huffs.

"Lucius?"

"Yes." Izzy hisses the word.

You follow him into the captain's cabin where you find Wee John watching Lucius sketch a naked Fang.

"What the fuck?"

"Not bad," you hum.

Izzy turns his head to look at you with narrowed eyes. You smile at him with a shrug.

"What?"

"Don't fucking look."

"I'm looking respectfully. Fang has nice form," you grin.

Fang smiles. "Aw, you're just saying that."

You turn back to him. "I mean every word, Fang."

Izzy sighs and rolls his eyes.

"Back to work, the lot of ya!"

♡♡♡

You follow Izzy once again up to the deck. He leans against the railing, his shoulders tense. He looks out to sea.

"Useless fucking bastards."

You come to stand beside him. "Cut them some slack. None of them have been a real pirate. They're used to their cosy little ship."

"Fuck the lot of them. How on the hell does this ship function when this lot can't even do their duties?"

You shrug lightly. "I don't know. Up until recently I was locked up in their brig."

Izzy lifts his head to look at you. "You were their prisoner."

"Yeah, it was dumb. All those years sailing with Blackbeard and I get caught by some pirate wannabe," you sigh.

"What happened to you? What have you been doing these past 6 years?" Izzy asks, facing you fully.

"Been on the move, moving from place to place. Stowed away a few times. Was hoping to come across you lot again, but I never found you. Looks like you found me though..."

Izzy is watching your face.

"I won't leave again. Not like that. I'm home again."

"Yeah..."

You exhale softly and look around the ship. "You been well?"

"Surviving."

"Good." You look back at him. "I missed that face of yours."

"This ugly mug?"

"Shut up. Not ugly."

He scoffs and turns back to the sea. "Let's hope Blackbeard kills Bonnet soon so we can go back to business."

"Just give him time."

A few moment of silence pass before Izzy looks back up at you. You look back at him softly, expecting him to say something, but he doesn't. He walks away.

♡♡♡

Night draws in. Izzy stands in front of Lucius giving him a list of chores to do to make up for slacking, twice. You sit on the steps listening, whittling away.

"You're gonna swab the deck. Twice. Then patch the main sail, oil and renwick cannons, then stack the munitions. And by the time you've done all that I'll have several more chores for you."

"And what if I don't?" Lucius asks. You eyes him carefully. "You're not my captain."

"I could spill your beans." Izzy threatens. "You've been a proper little seductress, haven't you? Black Pete, Fang. Who else is there?"

Lucius grins. "Hey, Pete?"

"Yeah, love?"

"I drew Fang naked."

"Haha! Nice. He's drawn most of us," Pete tells Izzy.

"See? We don't own each other. Dizzy Izzy." Lucius looks him in the eye. "Or is it... Izzy the Spewer?"

You look at Izzy, knowing about that nickname. You were the day Ed left Izzy in charge and the storm happened. Izzy had a rough time.

"Go now," Izzy whispers.

"Have you ever been sketched?" Lucius asks.

"Fuck off." Izzy storms off. You watch him go.

Lucius looks up at you with a smile. "You fond of Dizzy Izzy?" He asks you.

"It's just Izzy."

Black Pete and Lucius share a look. "That a yes then?"

"Don't you two have things to do?"

"Only each other," Lucius winks at Pete.

You get up from the stairs, but Lucius speaks before you her very far. "I think if he got laid he'd loosen up a little."

You glare at Lucius. "Excuse me?"

"Just saying, Izzy hasn't yelled at you or given you jobs to do. I think he may have even been a little jealous earlier when you walked in on me sketching Fang."

"What are you implying?"

"I think you know."

You glare at him again. "Shut up." You walk away. Lucius and Pete laugh together.

♡♡♡

You sit below deck on the hard floor whittling away in silence. The rest of the crew were above deck, most of them slept under the stars. Izzy, you were pretty sure, was in his cabin.

You move the knife swiftly along the wood.

"It's late."

You look up at the sound of the familiar voice. Izzy's voice is very distinct. You like hearing him talk.

"I know."

"The crew is sleeping. Ed is back too."

"Oh yeah, the party."

Izzy stands there with a hand on top of his sword, resting at his hip. He keeps his eyes on you as you whittle.

"What are you making?"

"Just... a thing."

"Right... a thing."

Silence settles between you both again. You can feel his eyes on you. His breathing is soft, but you can hear the wood creak under his feet as he shifts.

"I... uh... I'm glad you're back."

You stop whittling.

"I mis- I missed you."

You look up at Izzy slowly. Your heart thumping quickly in your chest. You know better than anyone what that took for him to say that.

"Missed you too, Izzy."

He inhales sharply and nods.

"Right. Yeah. Night then."

"Goodnight." You watch him as he turns sharply and walks away. He always walks away.

You focus back on your project. The sound of the knife scraping along the wood filling your ears once more.

♡♡♡

Izzy wakes up with the sun. He groans as he stares up at the ceiling. Another day on this stupid ship with Stede Bonnet. Izzy can only hope Blackbeard kills the fucker soon.

He runs his fingers through his hair, keeping his hand there as his mind fills with thoughts. You spent a good portion of yesterday following him around the ship.

Izzy breathes through his nose and lowers his hand. He turns his head to the side only to find a strange object sitting on the table. He furrows his brow knowing that it wasn't there when he went to sleep last night.

The first mate sits up and reaches over to pick up the wooden bird. He holds it in his hand, turning it this way and that way.

"The fuck?"

It looked like it resembled a sparrow. He runs his thumb across the carved out wing. It was a decent job.

"Hm." The corner of his lip twitches. You. Silly little you with your silly little whittling last night.

He goes to put the bird down only to find a note resting where the bird had been. He gently places the sparrow down and picks up the note, turning it over to read it.

'A gift as part of my ongoing apology for leaving you 6 years ago. Nice to be back, just like old times.'

Izzy smiles slightly at the note and then puts it down, glancing at the bird again.

"Yeah. Glad to have you back."

♡♡♡

@grippleback-galaxy - @askmarinaandothers - @godlikegallagher - @for-fuck-sake-im-alive - @whiskeyswriting - @lxsm2 - @bloody-bunni666 -

#spirit of the sea #izzy hands x reader #ofmd #our flag means death #dragon writes

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ms-existentialcrisis · 3 months

Text

Dancing With The Devil || #1

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Chapter 1: Prologue

Note: My first chapter!!! I went pretty hard for this one so it's quite long. Reader is insane btw and will continue being one so just a warning!! This is unbeta'd or edited so I apologise for the grammatical and spelling errors, English isn't my first language. Hope you guys enjoy :>

SUMMARY: You try to not be a bitch because your mother raised you right except that the woman was dead and so was your father and your brother is about to marry you off to the son of a crime syndicate leader, thinking that the union would save the empire of crime your father worked hard for that he destroyed in year. It's a very big mistake and you'll be damned if you didn't make your brother, your soon to be husband and his family pay.

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Tags/Warnings: weapons and violence, blood, cursing, cannibalism, gore (?), a decapitated head, implied SA (very light!) Reader is fucked and batshit insane and will continue being one, if playing an unhinged bitch isn't Ur cup of tea then this isn't for you! Don't like , don't read; MDNI!!

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Just smile and look pretty, is what your brother tells you.

Just smile and look pretty and be an obedient little wife to him, is what he advices.

You already knew what was expected of you; the long talks after the deal was made was a testament to that but your brother always found it better to remind you every fucking day of what awaits you.

What kind of life you were about to live and what type of bullshit was gonna be demanded of you. It's a precaution, he says, to dissuade any ideas of escape you've got brewing in your head.

But you know what it really is: that bastard rubbing a handful of salt to your still bleeding wound; the fact that you're entirely powerless to stop the arranged marriage that would secure your brother a powerful ally and business partner in weapons dealing and trafficking rings.

Well, not entirely powerless. You'll be damned if you'd allow yourself to be used as some bargaining chip to power.

Fuck your brother.

You looked exquisite, face painted with make up and body decorated with the finest silk and most expensive jewelleries.

It's what your helpers told you, what the brides maids said when they saw you. People you don't know, smiling at you and telling you to smile because it's your big day and you're about to get fucking married.

Many would say that getting married to a rich powerful man wouldn't be so bad. You'd be a trophy wife whose only job is to serve and provide for your husband, opening your legs for him to fuck and use.

Truthfully, it didn't sound bad. Being Jonas' wife would have you bathing in milk and enjoying the finest things life would offer. Except you didn't really like that; the life of luxury wasn't something new to you.

Having been raised in a family that's balls deep in the life of crime and wealth, you're not new to waking up to people ready to kiss your foot. Your brother liked to call you a spoiled brat and maybe you were, your mother liked to dote on you after all, but you weren't a stranger to the difficulty of life.

In your family, hierarchy and respect was important. That's why your brother grew up as he did. A fucking cunt who's ego is bigger than the sun considering that he's raised to believe that he'd come after your father and his empire once the old man dies.

He was the heir and was treated as such. You? You were simply the daughter, one that would one day used to be a bargaining chip, a plug for whatever hole your brother manages to shoot open.

You grew up in violence just like him, learned just like him but you're treated less simply because you were a woman. Because you didn't have a dick between your legs; things that if your brother did would have people supporting him but would have you called insane and too much.

You were far from stupid or naive, unlike what people liked to think. You're not clean or pure or whatever stupid bullshit your brother advertised to Jonas and his family to get them to agree to this union but you're told to play that act and so play that act you did (after plenty of threats).

You seethed behind that mask however and you weren't afraid to show it once the door is closed.

"I'm going to kill myself!" You shrieked at the top of your lungs, shaking a finger to your blank faced brother. "Either you cancel this bullshit or I'll fucking put a bullet in my head!"

"A bit late for that, yes? The wedding will start in an hour so knock it off with your tantrum already," He hissed at you from where he sat on the couch of your private room, the brides maids and helpers ushered out the very moment he stepped in.

"You think I wouldn't do it?" You hissed back. The scowl your sporting twisted your pretty face. God you hated the fucking make up they put you in, too much foundation and the wrong fucking shade. You never did like the common make up used for weddings and now you hated it even more.

16 years old you did her make up better than this.

"You're a coward," Kane says simply, an eyebrow raised. Handsome, what women would call him. To you, he's a shit faced cunt who's deep in his head.

"Mama wouldn't stand for this," You threw at him. "She would never agree to me getting married off to some bitch with money and business!"

"No she wouldn't, but she would say yes either way because father would agree to it," He intones. "There's also the fact that she's dead and so is father. It's up to me to do what needs to be done for this family, Rosie."

You flinch, a flash of hurt hitting you in the chest before it's overcome by anger. The nickname has your hand coming to grip the rose necklace your mother had gifted you for your 18th birthday.

Turning away, you hold it closer to your chest. You hear your brother shuffle behind you, a sigh echoing in the silent room.

"This is for the family, Rosie. For the business and the legacy father left us both."

"Oh fuck off will you?!" You whirled to stare at him incredulously. "Legacy for the both of us?! No! Legacy for you brother! Just for you! For you to lead! For you to ruin!"

"Mama and Papa are dead and I took that as a chance to finally get away from you and your fucking stupidity yet you chase me to bring me back so I could fix this goddamed mess you started!"

"You ran away is what you did! You had a duty to fulfil and you ran away from it! You're a coward sister!" Kane yells back at you.

"Well it's certainly better than a fuck up son who proceeded to tear down the business in a matter of a year!" You laugh hysterically and what a sight you were, dressed in a beautiful wedding gown and murder written across your features.

You barely dodge the slap to your face and you take pleasure in the way your brother looks more pissed than ever. At the way that you could still push your brother's button in a way no one else could.

Kane has always been the picture of a cool cucumber who liked to look down on people, hiding the fact that he's nothing but a rotting can of horse shit.

(He was your brother once, when you were children; now, all he is was a stranger who wore your brother's face)

It wasn't like you were wrong. Multiple dealings have gone bad and business partners have pulled out of the contracts after your brother assumed the position of leader after your father's death several months after your mother's.

He didn't have it in him to make good decisions or to lead. And he fucked up because he believed otherwise, because your father was just as stupid as he is.

All you wanted was to grieve peacefully in a small town away from your brother and his falling empire but he dragged you back to clean up after him. Getting married to Jonas Strucker, son of Baron Strucker and owner of a massive Trafficking empire, would save your brother's face and business.

He knew that, you knew that and you hated how he thought he could make you do this.

Kane looked like he was going to pop a vein on his forehead, opening his mouth to presumably scream at you again when there's a knock on the door.

"Mr. L/N, the boss is looking for you," A feminine voice called from the other side. Both you and your brother went blank faced but nothing could mask the absolute hate you both are sporting when your eyes met again.

"You are going to go through this, do you hear me?" Kane hisses, a hand coming to grip your arm in a bruising hold to pull you close to him. "You are going to follow your purpose and you are going to fucking serve your husband, whether you like it or not."

You stumble back when he releases you, the ugly feeling of helplessness and rage boiling in you. You wanted to scream, to pull out a gun and shoot him in the head.

God you hated him.

You stand there as he turns to leave, a red haired woman greeting him and coming inside once he's gone. There's a serene expression on your face as one of Jonas' trusted agent came to stop by the still open door.

"Ms L/N, the limo is waiting for you outside," She nods at you, eyes searching. She's wearing a nice black over all, a red leather jacket over it. You eye her back, taking note of the weapons she's possibly sporting.

"Wanda, wasn't it?" You smile at her politely, earlier displeasure gone in favour of being nice to this woman who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else like you. "I like your eyeliner."

The corner of her mouth quirks and she gives you another nod, "Thank you. You look gorgeous as well, Ms L/N."

Wanda Maximoff is a beautiful red haired woman who'd look quiet and unassuming if it weren't for the fact that her eyeliner is sharp enough to kill. She has this cool air around her but her eyes says that you don't fuck with me.

According to what you've heard, she has a brother name Pietro and they've been with the Strucker family since they were children. They're one of the best the family had to offer, their most trusted subordinate.

The Strucker family originated from Sokovia where her and her brother had obviously been picked up from, if Wand's accent is anything to go by. They're one of the bigger mobs that ran the trafficking ring there, connected to plenty of other crime rings.

"Y/N is fine and really, you've got yours done so cleanly. And your smokey eye! It looks good! I never did manage to do mine without making me look like a panda high on drugs," You laugh, moving towards the door and dragging your ridiculously long puffy gown with you.

It wasn't a surprise that you tripped but thankfully, Wanda is there to catch you. You smile at her as she helps you to your feet, one that she returns and keeps on her face when she leads you out of the room.

She doesn't notice the pocket knife you nabbed from her shoved into your dress, hidden away easily by the layers.

The wedding is exactly what you expected it to be.

Big and grandiose, the venue filled with guests to the brim.

You spaced out during the half of it, barely flinching when the priest finally told your husband to lift up your veil and not even batting an eye when he leaned in to kiss you, the sound of clapping nearly loud enough to drown the ringing in your ears.

Jonas Strucker doesn't look too bad to the eyes and you'd say he's got a lovely pair of eyes if you ignored how he stared at you. Like a piece of meat for him to eat.

'ill rip it out and keep it in a jar for keepings,' you thought as your eyes met again, the photographer guiding you for the pictures and flashes that nearly blinded you.

Your brother looks smug and joyful at the union, chatting away with the head of the Strucker family and his wife while you posed and smiled for the camera, shaking hands with people you have no interest in.

Briefly, your eyes caught Wanda as she stood by the side, her presumably brother standing with her. You gave her a smile and the knife on your thigh felt heavier and warmer than the ring on your finger.

Your smile widened as your attention shifted back to your new husband.

"You are going to serve your husband, whether you liked it or not," Your brother's words echoed in your mind once again and your smile grew to a grin.

"Y/N! Hello dear, you look so beautiful tonight," Baron Strucker is every bit of a slimy old fuck you expected him to be. He grinned at you once he pulled back from the hug he drew you in, his wife following to the same.

You know that thing in cartoons where the husband and wife looked the same? Yeah, that's the case with them. Mentally, you snorted and tried to keep the 'your parents were siblings' joke to a minimum.

"You look lovely my dear," The woman cooes at you. "My son will take good care of you, I raised him myself so I know that. And oh! The children you'll bear," she turns to her husband, "Darling, imagine our grandchildren with her hair and Jonas' eyes!"

"Hmm yes, they'd be adorable. I hope that the two of you will enjoy it tonight," the man laughed, sending you a wink that made your skin crawl.

Oh yes, you'll enjoy it tonight alright.

When Kane received a message on the 2nd night of what's supposed to be your honeymoon week, a pit of apprehension opened in his stomach.

Just a little bit of family dinner, the message said. A private celebration where it's only gonna be you, Jonas, and his parents as well as Kane. It was the most suspicious thing he read.

You grew up together and Kane knew how you could be. Your destructive tantrums and your attitude that could fuel a small country. It's why he called you spoiled; the way you refused to bow your head and follow what your parents told you, holding your chin up and following whatever you wanted.

He knew how cunning you could be and begrudgingly, Kane could admit that you're one hell of a fox in terms of playing and manipulating yourself in and out of situations.

Your mother never did teach you what you were supposed to know and do and Father had always been soft towards you despite his obvious favour towards Kane. It's why you grew up with such a big head, thinking that you could live outside your responsibility of the family.

Kane was more than overjoyed to finally put you in your place despite the circumstances that brought the marriage up in the first place.

Initially, he opted to ignore the message of invite to the dinner but when Mrs. Strucker called him to ask if he was attending as well, he's got no choice but to agree.

Which is why he's currently sitted in the dinner table of the penthouse that you and Jonas' were spending your honeymoon in. He sat facing Mrs. Strucker, the head seat to his right occupied by the family head while the other one remained empty for Jonas' to take.

There's a feast laid out in front of him, recipes he didn't recognise but looked appealingly good. He barely paid them attention when the servants rolled them in unlike the Strucker couple, waiting for you to appear and preparing himself for whatever plan you've cooked up this time.

Once you did appear, you looked gorgeous with your hair up in a clean bun, a few strands loose to frame your rouged cheeks, the red on your lips matching the red dress you picked to wear, bejeweled with glitters that reflected the warm overhead lights to twinkle like stars. Kane recognised it as one of your favourite dresses, the slit on both sides of the fitting fabric and open back showing enough skin that Mrs Strucker gasped in scandal.

Internally, Kane fumed.

That dress didn't leave much for imagination and it didn't fit the image of the shy and quiet sister he shared with Jonas' and his parents.

"That's quite the dress you're wearing, Rosie," he gritted out as you smiled at him serenely. You walked towards the table, bounding towards the Strucker couple and giving them both kisses to the cheek.

"What can I say? Tonight's a special night and I wanted to dress pretty," You shrugged indifferently.

"Well, I could understand the desire but.. did you really have to go with that one?" Mrs Strucker hesitantly asked.

"It's my favourite, auntie!" You laughed as you took the other head seat. Kane tried to kill you with his glare.

"Hmm and what did Jonas say about this, dear?" Mr Strucker eyed you.

"Oh he loved it, uncle," you purred before spreading your arms. "Tonight's special like I said so let's have a feast! I cooked all of this for us to enjoy!"

You urged them to start digging into the meal you've prepared and they reluctantly did so. Kane glared at you while he shoved a piece of meat in his mouth, silently and reluctantly enjoying what you've prepared.

The Strucker couple did not share his reluctance and made it clear.

"My my, this is quite the dishes you've prepared my dear!" Baron praised as he took a bite of whatever he took for his plate. You preened like a fucking peacock, smiling sheepishly.

Kane silently chewed, never taking his eyes off of you before he startled in his seat, finally noticing what, or more specifically, who was missing.

"Where's Jonas?" He asks, barely keeping his voice down.

"Mhm?" You looked up from your meal, blinking at him innocently.

"That's right, dear," Mrs. Strucker nodded. "Not that I don't enjoy this but where's my son? I expected him to be here with us."

"What do you mean?" You asked, brows furrowed in confusion as you tilted your head. Kane's heart dropped, recognising the malevolent mischievous glint in your eyes.

Slowly, he looked down at the meal he was silently enjoying, the pit in his stomach growing deeper.

"He's already here," You intoned, chewing thoroughly.

"Ah what?" Baron says as he placed the glass of wine he took a sip from down. Mrs. Strucker shifted restlessly in her chair, sensing the change of mood.

"I said," You start, putting your fork and knife down to spread your arms around the feast you've prepared, "that he's already here."

Kane went pale, stomach rolling as his fingers went tight around the knife and forks he used to dig into the flesh of his supposed brother-in-law.

He could see the very moment the other two realised what you meant, blood draining out of their face as their eyes surveyed the presented meals. They both started spouting out denials.

When Kane looks back at you, you're sporting a wide manic grin, chewing at a piece of meat you stuck in your mouth. He felt sick, suddenly understanding how much fucking worse you could get the more you're pushed around.

How far you'd go whenever your freedom is threatened.

With a chuckle, you leaned forward to take the cover of one of the bigger plates he didn't even notice and Kane knew what to expect, somehow, but he couldn't keep down the gag of disgust and horror clawing up his throat at the sight of Jonas' head presented like a pig, dressing around it and decorated with fruits.

"Well? How does he taste?" You asked proudly, puffing your chest and taking the plate up so you could show it to the horrified trio in front of you.

"You demonic psychopath!" Baron exploded, rising from his seat so he could shout obscenities at you.

Kane felt frozen in his own seat, looking away in disgust when Mrs Strucker vomitted to the side, starting to cry hysterics after it.

"He's very bad in bed, do you know that?" You say conversationally, accent shifting into a mocking russian one. "Very bad dirty talk and small dick. He cried like a little bitch when I stuck my knife into his side and twisted it."

You did nothing but laugh at the pairs growing horror and grief, eyeing them gleefully.

"There's no one to hear you here, auntie and uncle, so scream your grievances as much as you want," You giggled once Baron started yelling for guards and his men.

Kane have seen men and women be cut into pieces, burned alive or buried in different locations. He's brutal fights and has been part of them, has seen blood and the kind of violence that would belong to monsters.

He believed that he's experienced and seen it all but this?

This act of yours?

It took the cake.

"Looking like a paper there, brother," You sneered once you turned your attention to him.

Your words, the way you spat the word brother out, it made him rise to his seat in pure fucking rage. Baron and his wife looked like they'd gone into shock, heaving and gagging like it'll remove the taste of their son from their mouth.

"I am not your brother," He hissed angrily. "From this day on, I have no sister! What the fuck is going on inside of that head of yours, Y/N?! How could you possibly do this?!"

You went blank faced at his words, eerily staring at him with blank eyes that stared deep in his soul. Kane leaned forward, the edge of the table digging into his front as he balanced his weight on the palms he's got planted on the wood.

You were quiet for a few minutes before a completely malevolent grin split your face, eyes wide and blazing.

You threw your head back at whatever joke you had spinning in your head. The dinning room is now quiet, save for Mrs Strucker's sobs and your shrieking laughter.

Then abruptly, you stopped laughing and the emotions on your face are wiped clean when you directed back the attention to him. Kane barely had the time to duck under the table when you pulled a gun under the table, shooting the hysterical and sobbing couple at the end of the table.

"Fuck!" He yelled over the sound of gun shots and falling bodies, pulling out his own pistol and praying that someone fucking heard the ruckus you raised.

Taking out his phone, he dialed up Dylan, his right hand man, and immediately called for back up. "I need back up!" He whispered yell, crawling under the table and watching out for you. He broke out in cold sweat when the room fell silent, not even the click of your heels to fill it.

When he peeked out of the long clothe draped on the table, you weren't anywhere to be seen.

"Kane? I thought you were with-"

"My sister's gone fucking manic Dylan and I need a fucking back up," he continued to furiously whisper to the phone, earth shattering fear coursing through him.

The last thing Dylan hears from his boss is his terrified yelp as Kane is pulled out from under the table, coming face to face with his dear sister.

"What's the matter, brother? This is supposed to be a private party for us only-" You danced out of the way as he swiped out of you.

You've tucked your pistol away on the tactical strap on your waist that you were most definitely not sporting earlier, a few knives wrapped around you revealed thighs. You took great pleasure in kicking away Kane's own gun.

"Give it up Rosie," He spat, studiously ignoring the cooling corpse of the Strucker couple a few feet away from both of you. "Dylan and our men are on their way. I'll have them spare you if you get on your fucking knees right now!"

"The last person to demand me on my knees was Jonas and look at where he is right now," You crooned, gesturing to the left overs on the dinner table. Kane grimaced, shifting and reluctantly throwing himself at you.

You trade blows, his strength against your agility all the while you screamed at each other. He catches you in the stomach and you retaliate with a right hook, busting his lips. You kick him in the leg, raising your other to hit him on his left and he stumbles backwards.

The two of you are panting as he eyes you, gaze shifting to the gun thrown to the size. He's got a blooming bruise on his face, lips busted. You weren't better, hair disarray and blood down your nose and from the cut on your forehead you got when he threw a vase at you. But you were grinning, relishing at the destruction you've caused and the blood on your brother's face.

Kane lunges at you with a punch. One that you dodge, swinging your legs in a round house kick that he blocks with his left forearm. You twist to catch his other hand, wrapping your right leg around his shoulder and neck, lifting yourself to catch him in triangle choke.

"I fucking hate you," Kane gurgles as he swings you and your weight around, making you grunt as he slams you repeatedly against the ground when he finally falls on your knees.

"I hate you too!" You scream at him, plowing your elbow down to his head. He manages to detangle from you but you don't waste your time, swiping his legs under him.

You quickly straddle him on his chest, busting your knuckles open as you beat the ever loving shit out of him. He struggled under you, nearly bucking you off before he eventually went limp. You don't stop despite feeling his face collapse under your knuckles and rage, not even when his face is a mess of broken flesh and blood.

That euphoric satisfaction in you at the sight of him dies a quiet death, replace with sinking grief. To your brother, you're nothing but a blur of colours and pain.

He doesn't see you cry nor the pain that flashes across your features as you bowed over him, loose hair framing your face like a curtain.

"You're all I had you know that?" You sob silently, cupping his face. "We might hate each other but we're still siblings. We grew up together Kane. Why'd you turn into such a douchebag?"

You get no reply, just his pained wheezes. You continue to cry quietly, body shaking with tears before it turns into something different, starting with a chuckle before turnings into a full blown cackle.

"But then again, it's not like I can talk. I mean, look at me," you say to the quiet room, eyes staring your dying brother down with dead eyes. "Good bye brother."

With that, you pull out your gun and mercilessly shoots him in the head.

You don't know how long you sat there, blankly staring at your brother's corpse, face barely recognisable. It must be a long time because when you finally find it in you to move, the blood has started to dry.

You feel empty, legs shaky when you pull yourself up. You've got a death grip on your pistol, chest tight and stomach rolling. Suddenly, you want to stick yourself in an ice bath, let the cold prickling sensation of ice numb you skin till it's pale and shivering, till you were lightly shuddering and numb to the cold.

It's why you're so caught off guard when the dooble door of the penthouse blast open, footsteps thundering to fill the once quiet room. The mirror to your other side is broken by a winged figure shooting itself inside, mechanical wings tucking itself close as he landed in a crouch.

'shit,' you think to yourself as you throw yourself out of the way, pulling your pistol up and aiming at the men and women that came into your view.

You paused however because you'd expected Dylan and his men for back up.. not these strangers dressed in tactical gears. 'Interpol agents' is what came to your mind but 2 very distinctive faces made you change your mind.

"Wanda?" You called out softly, eyeing the girl who stood behind two very tall and very big men. She had her gaze on Baron and his wife, eyes wide in shock. Her brother and the rest of the people with her seemed to be in similar or varying state of surprise and shock.

"Ms L/N," She hesitantly greeted, your gazes meeting. Everyone's attention snapped to you and you surveyed them all quietly. Your eyes lingered on the two tall men, one short and brown haired while the other blonde, face bearded and hair slicked back.

"I told you, Y/N is fine," You chirped back at her warmly, gun still raised. You tilted your head, "Considering that you work very close with Baron and Jonas, I'd expected that you knew that this is a private celebration."

"Woman you have a different idea of celebration," the winged man whistled as he eyed the cooling corpses. Another red haired woman has started investigating the dinner table, Wanda's brother still staring at Baron's body in shock.

"It was a special occasion," You shrugged, looking indifferent but internally, you were panicking.

You vaguely recognised this people, men and women associated with the Merchant of Death, biggest and baddest dealer of weapons and advanced technology.

The Merchant of Death was a very picky man and to get into a contract with him was a difficult thing. You seriously doubt that the Strucker family would have connections with him considering that they're tighly tied with the Hydra mob but seeing that the Maximoff siblings are very cozied with them and they went in guns blazing, you can only assume that they're here for you and what you've done.

"She cooked him," Your gun snaps to the woman by the dinner table, poking Jonas head. You squint at her, slowly recognising her as one Natasha Romanoff, former agent of Red Room, an illegal agency that was busted several years ago by another agency after it was discovered that most of their agents came from another massive Trafficking ring.

It wasn't a public news but it was a big deal for the neighbouring crime rings, seeing such big organisations go down and be revealed in just a day.

Natasha Romanoff was notoriously known for her skills as an assassin and she was a woman nobody wanted to cross.

'Fuck,' you thought, starting to sweat.

"Could see your fight or flight instinct fighting from here, doll," A voice drawled and your attention snapped at the brown haired man casually poking at your brother's corpse. By now, the group have broken to snoop around the room.

You meet his piercing gaze head on and you try not to get lost in his icy silver blue eyes, the way they seemed to strip you bare. You raised your eyebrow and puffed up your chest when his gaze roamed down your body.

"Take a pic, it'll last longer," You grunted, shifting your stance so one of your legs are more revealed than the other through the slit of your dress. You know you don't look your best at the moment considering that beat down you lashed out but you'll be damned if you didn't make sure that you're at your hottest in your last moments.

He chuckled, the rasp to his voice nearly enough to distract you from the cursing from other side of the room.

"Shit for real?" Wings cursed, eyeing the meals you prepared in disgust, awe and horror. "That's just nasty man."

"Hey!" You say indignantly. "He makes a great meal you fuck head! Don't disrespect my cooking!"

"Well, this is unexpected," Tall, blonde and handsome says as he crouched by Baron's corpse, eyeing thoughtfully. "Thought your brother was the psychopath, with the violent and destructive reputation he's made for himself when he assumed leader to your empire."

"Add 'idiot' to that," You snarked, returning his stare. They didn't seem interested in killing you or taking you in for what you've done. In fact, they didn't seem to care at all that Baron, his wife and your brother are dead as well as Jonas.

"how about you put the gun down, Ms L/N?" Pietro gestures at you and the pistol you've got trained on them.

"Not until I know what you're here for," you grinned shakily.

"We're not here for you," Icy eyes tells you, brows raised. "So better put that gun down before you shoot someone."

"You think I don't know how to use this?" You gritted at him.

"Opposite actually. Seeing what you've done here, it's much better that we talk instead of shoot yes?" Romanoff comes to stand close. The others shift as well, done with poking around to stare at you with undivided attention.

You glare at them all, defensive.

"Relax sweetheart, were not here to hurt you. We just wanna talk," Icy eyes soothingly says, hands up in mock surrender. You try to kill him with your eyes.

"He's right. We don't mean any harm, we just want to talk," Blondie from earlier copies him.

"Ms Y/N, we came in here for the assassination of the Strucker family head as well as your brothers' but seeing that they're already dead, we'll do nothing but talk," Wanda came forward to explain.

Your eyes narrow at her, "So you're a double agent? Figured that you were just there for the show with how you looked like."

Wanda looked sheepish for a moment. "We saw our way out of the family's shitty system so we took it. They're the good guys," Pietro shrugged beside her, gesturing at the other 4.

"Don't know who these guys are, so- forgive me if I don't trust them as you do," You shrug back, seriously doubting the good guys comment.

"Natasha Romanoff," The black widow agent introduces herself abruptly, eyes on the blood stains on your flesh and skin.

"Sam Wilson," Wings followed with an arm cross.

"Steve Rogers," Blondie offered with a nod, your eyes widening as you focused entirely on the very dangerous and known man in front of you.

If this guy was Steve Rogers, also known as, funnily enough, 'The Captain' then the man beside him must be-

"James Buchanan Barnes but you can call me Bucky," The mother fucking Winter Soldier winks at you, a playful grin on his face.

You are either very fucking lucky or fucked over at the moment if you didn't play your cards right.

Fin~

✨ Masterlist >> || { next }

#marvel #bucky barnes #stucky #x reader #reader insert #female reader #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff

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yrluvjane · 2 years

Text

To be disappointed

I just feel sad, so everyone has to feel sad. Warning: Angst

"JAMES! FLEAMONT! POTTER!" The boys' very angry girlfriend shouted as she stormed up the stairs, pushing a terrified Moony and Wormtail to the side.

She slammed the door open and there sat with Sirius both sporting a frightened expression. "I can explain!" James shouted with his hands up in surrender.

"You can?!" She shouted outraged.

"...Sirius can explain!" He shouted as the other shouted in reply, "Prongs!" He hit James's chest.

"It was an accident!" James said, as he and Sirius slowly backed away.

"Accident?!" She shouted outraged.

"Yes?" Sirius said weakly as James hit him on the back of his head.

"Let me get this straight, you accidentally set fire to the astronomy tower?" Y/n said angerly, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes! Total accident!" The two said. They watched as Peter and Remus watched from the door way with terrified expressions.

"And this had nothing to do with your stupid fued with the Slytherins?"

"Okay! That 'fued' isn-" Marlene began but stopped short when Y/n faced her with a look that could make Dumbledore step back and the faces of Sirius and James motioning 'No' with their mouth and hands.

"POTTER! BLACK!" Professor McGonagall shouted as she angerly made her way up. "OUT of my way, Miss McKinnon!" She said pushing Remus and Peter stumbling back.

"Professor!" Sirius said hopefully but stepped back when he saw her rage-filled face.

"Don't "Professor!" me, Black! What were you bloody thinking?!" She shouted as she stepped next to Y/n.

"According to them, it was an 'accident'." Y/n said, dangerously calm.

McGonagall head snapped to them, "Accident?! You call that ! An accident?!!"

Both boys mentally decided to stay quiet, knowing it was the safest options.

"Professor McGonagall, it was an accident. And since it was an accident they should personally and publicly apologise to all the Slytherins and Ravenclaws for both disrupting their class and endangering their life. And instead of detention, they can assist the Slytherins and Ravenclaws with any educational problem they have considering they were responsible for burning their notes." Y/n said as both the boys' face's contorted into disbelief, plead and shock.

Professor McGonagall stared at the girl in approval, "That is an excellent punishment, Miss L/n." Both boys stared at the Head of their House in shock and pleading face's.

"However-" Both boy's looked at her in hope. "I'd like to add a punishment of my own. 50 points. . .Each." McGonagall said watching Sirius and Jamss make a pained sound, before turning on her heel and leaving.

"Y/n..." James began but she only raised a finger and shut him up.

"Ah! I don't wanna hear a sound out of you. Either of you. Have you two gone insane?! There were people in that tower! Someone could've died! This Slytherin-Gryffindor fued needs to stop! We are graduating next year! There is an upcoming war! People are already dying. I know that wasn't an accident and I know that you were planning on setting Snape's hair on fire...I'm very disappointed in you. You promised me you'd end this! You promised..." She ranted angrly but at the end her voice fell and tears began to form, which made both boys look down in shame.

"..Y/n.." James began but she stepped back and wiped away any traces of tears. "You have a speech to write and it better be a good one." She said, she then faced Remus and Peter.

"I'm disappointed in you two, as well. I could've expected this from Sirius and James, maybe even Peter with peer pressure but not you Remus." Y/n said softly her face filled with disappointment as all four boys looked anywhere but her heart-breaking face.

"Anything you wanna say?" She asked the four as she sniffled. "No? Okay." She left.

Should I make a pt.2?

#angst #angry #short #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #peter pettigrew #Peter Pettigrew x reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #harry potter x reader #maraduars x reader #marauders x reader #marauders era

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skybluewritings · 1 year

Text

Plane- Pope Heyward x fem!reader

Description: (Name) ends up at the same college as her former academic rival Pope and is forced to share a flight with him.

AN: References to panic attack.

She took a swig of beer from the red solo cup, the burn of the alcohol warming her throat. She had felt prepared for tonight when she had slipped on a cute bodycon dress and her favourite denim jacket. She scanned the crowded party, wishing she hadn’t lost her roommate. A strange shyness crept over her as she helplessly looked to the different clumps of people talking.

Back in Kildare she’d had no problem at parties, it was easy to know what to say. But here at Columbia she felt completely out of her depth. Everyone seemed so much more older and wiser than her, despite also being freshman. For as long as she could remember she had wanted to escape to a different life, now more than anything she longed for a familiar face. And the universe listened to her.

In the corner of the room looking just as lost as she felt stood-Pope Heyward? He was staring reflectively into his own solo cup as he swirled it with his wrist. He was wearing blue jeans and a navy Kildare jumper. It was a far cry from his usual shorts and loose fitting t-shirts. She longed for her own Kildare jumper, which was still shoved at the bottom of her suitcase.

She supposed it wasn’t all that surprising that Pope would attend the same college as her. He was insanely intelligent. They had been in a lot of the same advanced classes before she had transferred to Kildare academy in her Junior year. Despite having a reputation as a fairly nice guy, a smug smile would spread across his stupidly handsome face every time he beat her for top of the class. She had once been so mad the pencil in her hand had nearly snapped in two. Past annoyances aside it was relieving to see someone she knew.

The ground was sticky under her new nike shoes, as she made her way across the tightly packed room. She hoped it was just beer.

“Pope hey.” She said.

He ignored her continuing to investigate his cup. He probably hadn’t heard her over the music.

“Pope hey.” She said again, still no reply.

She moved closer to him. “Pope!” It came out louder than she had expected.

He let out a gasp, his cup falling to the floor. His brown eyes snapping straight to her.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you!” She apologised bending down to collect his discarded cup.

She pressed the cup into his hands, his jaw clenched as he looked inside it. “It’s empty.”

She let out a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I guess I overestimated the volume of my own voice.”

“Yep.” He replied in a clipped tone.

It was just beer, she thought to herself skin prickling.

“Anyway, how’re you finding college so far?” She asked brightly.

He shrugged at her. “Well no one’s spoken to me in 15 minutes so.”

“To be fair you aren’t helping yourself brooding in the corner.” She pointed out.

“I’m not brooding, you make me sound like batman.”

“You’ve definitely got the muscles for it.” She teased, immediately regretting it as soon as she’d said it.

It technically wasn’t untrue she’d seen him at the beach a few times surfing, she had found her face heating up when he’d once caught her staring.

“Uh thank you?..”

“Sorry-that was just a joke.” She stammered.

He let out a heavy sigh. “(Name) what do you want? We barely even knew each other back home.”

“That’s not entirely true we went to the same school.” She firmly reminded him.

“Until you pissed off to the kook academy.” He told her.

She desperately wanted to know who put the stick up his ass.

Her lips pressed into a line. “I forgot people still used those words. You know you can drop all that stupid shit, we’re not children anymore. What’s even the problem?”

“That’s easy for you to say, you aren’t the one who has to worry about how you’re gonna keep the lights on in your house. So I’ll stop using them when it stops being a problem.” He icily replied.

Yeah so clearly this conversation was clearly over.

“I’m gonna go get another drink it’s been fun?” She said earning an eye roll from him. “Enjoy college Pope.”

As she walked away from him she hoped she wouldn’t ever have to interact with him anymore at college. And once again the universe worked its magic.

Two and a half years (and many more college parties) later, she was 21 years old on the plane back to North Carolina. It had a been a few months since her last visit and she was excited to go back. She had felt like a different version of herself in New York. Not that it was a bad version, just different.

She usually enjoyed the short flight home. She would engross herself in a new book or gaze out of the window with her music blaring. But this time her usual peaceful journey had been interrupted by a child kicking her seat.

She turned round in her seat. “Excuse me sorry, do you mind asking your child to stop kicking my seat?” She politely asked the boy’s mother.

“He wasn’t kicking your seat.” The woman replied.

“I promise you he was, it’s all I’ve felt the past thirty minutes.” She assured her.

“My son’s a good boy how dare you accuse him of things.” The woman snapped as the boy once more booted her seat.

“See he just did it!” She said in exasperation.

The woman glared at her. “I didn’t see anything.”

She glared back at the woman. “Because you weren’t even looking.“

The boy did it once more she turned to the kid. “I swear to god if you don’t-“

“What's going on?” A familiar voice asked.

Pope stood in the narrow aisle a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Of course he had caught at her yelling at a child.

“Pope hey.” She said far too casually.

“Are you ok?” He asked.

She shamefully sank back into her seat. “Yeah I’m great, what are you up to?”

“Flying home…”

“Oh fun.”

Silence hung between them neither sure how to further the conversation. He then placed his duffle bag in the overhead compartment before falling into the seat next to her.

Her mouth fell open a little. “What-why are you sitting here?”

“It’s my seat.” He explained. “Unfortunately.”

How was she meant to go an entire flight next to him? They were bound to annoy the other as they usually did, every time they interacted.

“Look let’s just keep to ourselves ok? You do your thing and I’ll do mine.” She decided.

“That’s good with me.” He agreed, closing his eyes and getting comfortable in his seat.

And as the plane took flight things became promising. The little boy had stopped kicking her seat and Pope rested. She read her book- until her kindle ran out.

“What no!” She groaned as the device switched off.

“Fucking hell.” She swore softly as she dropped the kindle into her carry on bag.

She pulled out her phone and was horrified to find it only had 5 percent battery. And she’d need that remaining percent to call her parents after the flight.

She had no idea what to do with herself. It wasn’t as if she could just strike up a conversation with her delightful classmate.

She alternated between drumming her manicured nails against the arm rest and flipping open the shutter attached to the small oval window.

“I’m so bored.” She complained to no one in particular.

“Oh my god can you please keep it down?” Pope demanded.

She jumped at his sudden outburst. “I thought you were asleep?!”

“I was until you woke me up with all of your noise.”

“It’s not as if I meant to.” She huffed. “My kindle died.”

He snorted. “Your kindle really?”

“What’s wrong with that?” She asked defensively.

“I don’t know it’s just typical that you of all people would have a kindle.” He laughed unkindly.

She folded her arms across her chest. “All your favourite books in one place what’s wrong with that?!”

“Until it runs out of battery.”

“So what do you suggest I do?”

“Buy a physical book?” He suggested.

She rolled her eyes. “Wow great help you are.”

“I’m full of bright ideas what can I say.” He said dryly.

She needed five minutes away from him or she would scream.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” She told him standing up from her seat.

The plane started to shake from turbulence, she clung onto the headrests in front of her as she moved. A particular jerk sent her hurtling backwards directly into Pope’s lap, a shriek leaving her as she fell.

His eyes were wide. “What are you doing?!”

She swallowed hard. “I fell?”

“Yeah I can see that!”

Her throat tightened. “It was the turbulence!” She stammered.

“Get off of me!” He yelped.

She scrambled off him and bolted to the bathroom. As she slid the lock into place she replayed the moment over and over in her mind. Why did she have to constantly humiliate herself in front of him? And why had his cologne smelt so intoxicatingly good? It was nothing like the smothering cologne of other guys at college. But then she guessed Pope wasn’t like the other guys at college. He never really bragged in lectures or smashed cans of beer against his forehead at parties. He had a lot of friends but seemed to keep to himself. He was smart in a way that was humble (at least with everyone else but her), in the classes they shared. And he was surprisingly snarky.

As she washed her hands the plane began to shake, she quickly dried her hands on one of the cheap paper towels and successfully returned to her seat without anymore incidents. She avoided eye contact with Pope as she shuffled past him, the seat belt sign lit up.

The intercom dinged. “Ladies and Gentleman we’re experiencing a little turbulence, nothing to worry about it, hang tight.” The captain assured them.

“A little, is he serious?!” Pope asked her, as she clicked the clasp of her seat belt together.

“He said it’s nothing to worry about it, I wouldn’t worry.” She replied, mostly trying to convince herself.

The shaking of the plane increased, her chair shuddering underneath her. He suddenly grabbed her hand. She glanced over at him, his eyes were squeezed shut and his chest rising and falling sharply.

“Pope are you ok?”

“It’s happening again.”

“What do you mean again?”

He shook his head. “We’re gonna crash.”

She squeezed his hand gently. “We’re not gonna crash, I promise. It’s going to be ok.”

His grip on her hand tightened. “I can’t breathe.” He whimpered.

“I’ll distract you ok?” He nodded weakly in response.

She wracked her brain for something, anything. “When I was six I was obsessed with the little mermaid. More than anything I wanted to be a mermaid, I never shut up about it really. So one day after school my dad takes me out on his boat tells me we’re gonna go mermaid spotting. We go out pretty far and I see this huge grey tail in the distance slapping against the water.”

His breathing had started to slow, she continued on. “And of course I now know the truth, but back then I was too young to know any different. So I go into school the next day and tell all my friends I saw a mermaid. And they all believed me until you pipe up that it was probably just a whale.”

He opened his eyes. “I think I remember this.” He quietly told her.

She smiled softly. “I should have been upset with you but I just remember thinking how cool it was that you could tell the difference, I thought you were so smart.”

The corners of his mouth tugged up slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah, I still do.”

“For the record I think you’re really smart too.”

Butterflies swam in her stomach. “Thank you.”

The turbulence gradually came to a stop and she found she still holding his hand.

“Oh uh sorry.” He excused dropping her hand.

“It’s okay, I kinda liked it.” She joked, he blinked at her. “Joking of course.”

“Oh right yeah.” He shyly chuckled.

"Why don't you ever talk to me at college?" She asked.

"I wanted to I mean I want to!"

"Then why don't you?"

"I didn't think you wanted me to." He confessed.

"Why wouldn't I want you to, remember that time I tried to talk to you at the party when we were freshmen?" She reminded him.

"Because you're a kook and I'm a-"

"Really you're gonna use those names again?"

"What else am I meant to call it?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I don't know just something that doesn't make me cringe."

He let out a sigh. "Point is I guess I believed you thought you were better than me. But I was wrong. I'm really sorry."

"I forgive you." She smiled. "And for what it's worth I've never believed I was better than you. Besides I actually thought, you thought you were better than me!"

He let out a laugh. "To be honest I just get nervous around pretty girls."

"You think I'm pretty?" She breathed.

"I mean yeah-you're beautiful."

Her pulse quickened. "So are you." She told him.

For a moment the two stared at each other, before Pope cleared his throat. "Anyway did you have a chance to look at the uh safety card?" He blurted out pulling the sheet of plastic from the pocket in front of him.

"No, it didn't cross my mind."

"I think we should take a look at it especially after what just happened!"

The two of them burst into laughter at the absurdity of the entire flight. She would definitely be getting his number before they got off the plane.

#the outer banks #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward #jj maybank #sarah cameron #jiara outer banks #jiara canon #pope x reader #john b routledge #kiara outer banks #one shot #fluff #academic rivals #enemies to lovers #pope heyward x fem!reader

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faela404 · 1 year

Text

☆ The Library ☆

kazuha x gn! reader

prompt: - you and kazuha attend the same university, him being a english lit major and you being a person in stem😎 your paths never crossed until that day in the library…

*this is an smau so please do expect a lot of twitter posts and messages to read, there will be proper writing too but, it will mostly be that!!*

warning! mentions of alcohol consumption, pictures including cigarettes and alcohol, weird xiao stans, swearing, mentions of a fear of loneliness,

masterlist - prev | next

☆ unexpected ☆

12:17am

kazuha sighed as he decided it was finally time to head towards the library. he couldn’t just sit there looking through his friends tweets and listening to that awful music his roommates were playing.

quickly, he gathered his belongings into his bag and hauled it off towards his bedroom door. he was surprised none of the partygoers outside had tried to barge into his room yet, perhaps his roommates were being more respectful of his space today.

quietly, he slipped out from behind his door and began weaving between all the drunk students. god the smell of all that alcohol on their breath was revolting.

sure, there’s nothing wrong with drinking but the thought of gathering over 100 people into one room to just drink was disgusting to him.

he managed to get through the open door without anyone trying to grab or talk to him and swiftly he made his way towards the stairs.

this was gonna be a long night for him.

3:04am

shit. shit. shit.

professor ningguang is going to kill me if she goes in that stupid library in the morning and none of it has been cleaned.

i’m gonna be so tired in the morning, i already know it.

nevertheless, i quickly slip my shoes on and run out of my dorms. i know for a fact if anyone was to see me right now, running in my pajamas, my hair an absolute mess and cherry vans on my feet, they’d think i was insane, but i don’t have time for notions like that.

i finally managed to make it outside of the library without tripping over, but just as i opened the door and walked in.

i crashed.

we crashed.

into eachother.

his books scattered across the floor, making a very loud BANG! as they hit the wooden flooring.

what the hell is someone else doing here right now-

“im so sorry” he mutters out. despite sounding tired and a bit groggy, his voice is so calming, so sweet.

the library is dark, i can barely make out his features, but his hair. his hair is beautiful. the shine from the few lanterns decorated across the library reflect against his pearl white locks. i can make out what appears to be a thick strip of red pulled back into a short ponytail at the back of his head.

im staring.

oh god im staring.

“don’t apologise, it was my fault” i sound out of breath, i mean i am but he doesn’t need to know that. carefully, i begin gathering his books with his help and handing them back to him.

he mutters a small “thanks” as gratitude as he moves past me to leave.

im alone again now.

the guy is gone, probably to sleep.

yet im stuck here cleaning.

great.

i might as well start, i suppose.

this is gonna be a long few weeks.

a/n - thank you all so much for the support on chapter one! i appreciate you all so much! i hope you enjoyed this chapter! if you want to be added to the taglist please feel free to ask either in the comments or in my asks! either is fine! take care of yourselves <3

taglist - open! @kazuhaprnt @ryhie @scaraapologist

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cocospoetrybook · 1 year

Text

please text me back - an original poem about my bpd and experiencing having a favourite person

i’m so sorry to any person who i have ever found myself attached to.

i apologise for burdening you with my affection.

being loved by me must be exhausting.

but i hope you know that it’s just as exhausting if not more actually being me.

let me quickly explain every thought going through my head over the course of any conversation we have ever had through dms.

the second i wake up i text you it takes me 5 minutes to decide how to word it.

good morning,

exclamation mark!

no to open you might not feel the need to respond.

good morning how are you smiley face.

get rid of the smiley face

you may be sad or mad and the happy nature might make it worse

maybe i shouldn’t say good morning just morning.

okay

morning how are you

do i add a question mark or does that seem too formal?

i’m just going to send it.

it takes you 3 minutes to open the message

i know because i say moving my eye from the dm to the time at the top of my phone until i watched the delivered turn to seen.

it takes you 14 seconds exactly to type out your response

i counted them.

“hi i’m good.”

you didn’t ask how i was back.

i’m now wondering if you care about me at all.

you don’t do you?

you hate me don’t you?

if you despise me just tell me!

if you are annoyed i messaged you could just say that!

you only replied out of obligation and we both know it!

fine!

whatever!

it was stupid anyway!

you’re stupid anyway!

i don’t care anyway!

“hbu”

oh.

okay.

it’s fine.

im fine.

we’re fine.

still you only typed out 3 letters not the full sentence.

you put as little energy as you possibly could into acknowledging my existence but i’m choosing to ignore that.

i reply with

i’m good thank you do you have any plans for today.

it takes you half an hour to see the message and you tell me you have work.

i see the notification but i don’t open it i don’t want to seem to eger.

instead i set a timer for 60 minutes then i can message you back.

oh cool

exclamation point

i hope you have a good shift

heart emoji

how long is it going to be

question mark

also sorry i didn’t respond until now i hadn’t seen the message.

it’s now been an hour of me checking my phone every 2 minutes just incase i missed your message.

but you didn’t reply.

you didn’t even open it.

because you hate me…

you despise me.

you are actively trying to find ways to cut me out your life!

well fine i can make it easier!

i could block you right now so you don’t have too i’m sure you would just love that!

or better yet i could die right now so you never have to say another word to me and you never run the risk of pumping into me in the street when we both know you hate me so much!

and maybe it would make you respond quicker if you knew this is what i was thinking right now!

you might even feel guilty for how much you cant stand to be around me!

but equally i then wouldn’t be able to see your response if you did then reply.

so i guess maybe i shouldn’t.

and it occurs to me only then that maybe i was being a little bit silly.

maybe that was semi irrational.

maybe i have somewhat lost my mind.

but i don’t have time to think of that while i’m still counting the minutes it takes for you to open my fucking message like i’m meant to be counting my breaths.

when you reply it’s 8 hours later,

and i am emotionally drained from repeating that last step several times over.

“Hey, just got back from work.

I’m Ok.”

that was it.

that was all that i had drove myself crazy to receive.

you didn’t even ask how i was.

and i don’t get why you just don’t care.

and on the inside i’m going insane.

i am filled with anger but i don’t want to scare you away so instead i type out

hey i missed you,

exclamation mark!

i hope you had a good day

smiley face emoji,

back track

i hope you are had an amazing day!

also not to sound annoying but i noticed in your last message you put ok instead of okay also you capitalised the o normally you only use lower case are we still cool?

tears are streaming down my face and you don’t know that.

my breathing is uneven and you are unaware of that

so when you reply with

“my day was good thank you.

also obviously we’re still cool why wouldn’t we be

laughing face emoji”

i once again notice you still haven’t asked me about my day.

and now you are laughing at my insecurity while i have been crying for hours.

but im too tired to fight so if you say we’re fine im sure we are.

so i just say

sorry it doesn’t matter just had a bad day is all i was probably just reading into things you know how i can be.

it takes you 30 seconds to see it.

and it takes you a minute to reply.

i counted.

stop apologising we have been over this it’s getting really annoying constantly having to give you so much reassurance sometimes being around you is just so draining.

this time i don’t reply.

i just sit and sob.

because yeah it is so fucking draining.

and i already know that

and i don’t ever get to take a break.

#bpd things #bpd favorite person #bpd stuff #actually bpd #poemsociety #my poem #poem by me #poems on tumblr #poetblr #poet corner #poets corner

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sniperjade · 27 days

Text

Dubious Duties - Chapter 4 of Bad Professor

Regulus felt conflicted. Damn that stupid wolf for getting in his head. They were nothing. He meant nothing to Regulus but the look of hurt on his face, when he found Lily cradled in Regulus’ arms, refused to leave his head. In desperation, when he got to dinner that night he sat at the far end of the table so that he didn’t have to look at him. Of course, this meant that he had ended up next to Hagrid, who was apparently also trying to hide from Dumbledore.

“I warned em’,” Hagrid muttered despondently into his tankard of ale, “I said not t’ insult em’ I said it’d be tha’ las’ thing ye ever do. I shoulda’ known he wouldn’t listen.”

Regulus turned to the morose giant and tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about.

“Who didn’t listen?”

“Tha’ Malfoy boy. I told him. I said don’t insult the Hippogriffs.” He gestured emphatically with his tankard, sending foam slopping over the edges. “Well, he ignored me, didn’ he? Called ole Bucky a great ugly brute. He didn’ like that.”

Regulus looked over at the Slytherin table. The spot where the blond boy was usually holding court was decidedly empty and the rest of his cohorts looked very dour indeed. In contrast, the kids at the Griffindor table seemed to be in absurdly high spirits.

“What happened to him?”

“Well, Bucky cut up his arm. Hippogriff talons are very sharp. I had to cancel my class! T’was their firs’ day too. Dumbledore mus’ be so disappointed.”

Hagrid slammed his tankard back onto the table and looked into it as though it held all the meaning in the world. Regulus sighed.

“You let a group of thirteen years olds, the most difficult and disrespectful age group of teenagers, near a creature that will attack if you offend it?”

Hagrid made a sad sort of noise. “I thought they’d think Hippogryphs were cool.”

“I can’t imagine Lucius took that very well.”

Hagrid’s thick lips drew into a hard line.

“No, he did not. I had to formally apologise. I wouldn’ mind so much if he wasn’ such a massive git.”

Regulus spat out his wine as he laughed out loud. “Did you just call Lucius Malfoy a massive git?”

“I did,” Hagrid nodded with a furtive glance around to see if anyone was listening. “An’ I’d do it again. He’s a right twat, that one.”

Regulus giggled delightedly at that. He had only been at Hogwarts at the same time as Lucius for one year. A year of utter turmoil as he had to navigate Sirius’ disappointment that he wasn’t a Gryffindor, as well as the attention of his insane cousins. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Andromeda had still been around, but Bellatrix was so pleased to have her little cousin Reggie with her that she wouldn’t leave him alone. Unfortunately, it meant that he had been pulled into Lucius Malfoy's orbit on more than one occasion. Lucius was a decidedly pretentious individual, and he did not get better after he was under the thumb of a maniacal megalomaniac.

“I suppose that means my cousin is also in the building.” Regulus mused.

Hagrid looked up blearily. “You mean Mrs Malfoy. She’s right terrifying tha’ one.”

Regulus sighed. “They all are.”

Hagrid’s eyes narrowed in on Regulus as though seeing him for the very first time.

“You’re not bad, Black. Not like tha’ rest of em are ya? Tell ya what, I have a bottle of firewhisky that I was going to use to drown my sorrows in for the rest of the night. What say you join me?”

Regulus risked a glance up the table to find the amber eyes of Remus Lupin looking straight at him.

“That sounds great!” Regulus hurriedly agreed. “How about I drop into the medical wing and check up on the Malfoy boy? Give you a bit of an update?”

“Thas’ awful kind of ya.” Hagrid replied giving Regulus a huge slap on the back that nearly knocked him smack-bang into the table.

He laughed gingerly and got up from the table, exiting the hall before the wolf could follow. He made his way over to the medical wing, furtively looking behind him for any sign of a tail. He had been able to hear Lucius’ voice the entire way down the hall, but it was only as he was about to step inside that he heard Albus.

“He needs to be fired, Dumbledore!”

“Now Lucius. Whilst it is awful that this happened, we are dealing with magical creatures here. Surely you understand the risks involved with this course of study. Hippogriffs are only rated XXX’s.”

“And out of all the possible XXX creatures to study that one was chosen for a group of thirteen-year-olds?”

“This is the first year that Hagrid is running this program and there are bound to be teething issues. Be assured that we will be reviewing the data from this incident and will make necessary changes. I hope the young Mr Malfoy makes a full recovery.”

Regulus almost ran into Albus as he exited the room.

“Professor Black,” he greeted as he stepped beside him. “You must be here to check in on your family. I will assure you that young Mr Malfoy is in good hands.”

He dodged round Regulus and went to leave.

“Wait! Albus!” Regulus exclaimed as he jogged over. “I was wondering if you’re free to have a meeting with me tomorrow if possible.”

Albus raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Of course, Regulus, I’ve been meaning to meet with all my new teachers to see how they’re going with their lesson planning and course instruction. You have a free period just before lunch tomorrow, don’t you? Come see me in my office and we can talk.”

Regulus nodded and gave him a brilliant smile.

“Excellent. I look forward to it.”

Regulus was conscious of the fact that you should always keep an employer onside, even if you did have severe doubts about their sanity. Albus had been an enigma, from the first moment he had owled Regulus at Grimmauld Place, and every instance after. Whenever they spoke, Regulus had got the distinct impression, that Albus was almost always talking about something entirely different to what Regulus thought they were talking about. It made every conversation very disconcerting.

As Albus disappeared down the corridor Regulus turned back to the medical wing. He sighed. He could still hear Lucius loudly complaining about the situation from the other side of the door. This was possibly a very stupid idea. He hadn’t exactly made an effort to reconnect with his family after Voldemort's death. He had been busy trying to exonerate Sirius and that had required that he associate with a lot of people that his family would not necessarily agree with. Of course, after that colossal failure, he ran away to the continent again.

The image of Sirius stumbling about in the rain, his eyes unfocused, wild insane laughter spilling from his lips, flashed across his mind. He shook his head, willing the image to fuck off. He refused to let it rule his life. He refused to run this time. Sirius had to live with his fucked-up choices.

He pushed open the door and the two people standing on either side of the bed froze.

“Regulus?”

It was Narcissa who spoke first. A tiny sound, as though she had not meant for it to leave her lips. She was still stunning after all these years; Blacks always were after all. She had changed her hair colour. The straight dark brown locks that she had in her youth were now a pale blond. Her eyes of course were still the same silver. Though they held none of the hatred he had expected, a begrudging sort of respect shone out instead.

“Narcissa.”

The word was a warning. Regulus braced for what he would find, when he faced Lucius Malfoy for the first time in fourteen years. Lucius stood tall and straight, his face like marble, as though it were chiselled out of stone. Whilst his expression was severe, he was a handsome man and when he was younger, Regulus had envied Narcissa. Lucius had wooed her with charm and passion and Regulus had wished for something similar. A love so easily found that fit within the constraints that they were allowed.

Instead, he was sold to a madman. Easy fodder to be dashed upon the foundation blocks of their new world order. The inevitable fate of a second son. In a way, it was the only sure sign that his parents had never given up on Sirius, that it had always only been Sirius. It had never mattered what Regulus did. He would always only be the spare.

“Lucius,” Regulus greeted formally, “I came to check up on my student. I apologise if I am intruding.”

“Your student?” Lucius sneered, “Oh, how low you have fallen, Regulus. Teaching?”

Regulus tilted his head and stuck his tongue into the side of his cheek. Right, so this was how he was going to play it.

“Yes. I’ve been following in the footsteps of Altair Black the second. Truly a remarkable member of my family. I believe he married Francesca Malfoy back at the turn of the century. Don’t you agree that moulding the minds of the younger generation is truly a worthy pursuit?”

Lucius scowled, “So you’ve gotten bored with whoring yourself out to every Tom, Diane and or Harriet who will pay your way?”

Regulus shrugged and then lowered his eyes so that he peered through his lashes at the much taller man.

“For now. Why? Are you interested?”