#you will believe a woman can lose her entire tiny mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

visd3stele · 2 years

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synopsis: cursed in a magic circus, king Hal loses his crown. He is willing to believe any curse can be a blessing when it brings him to you.

tw: magical au! talks of poisoning, talks of creepy old men, attempt sa

a/n: don't forget to let me know what you think: asks, reblogs, messages, comments, whatever feedback is welcomed, cherrished and encouraged <3

SOMEONE PLEASE TELL ME THEY KNOW WHY KING HAL'S HORSE IS NAMED TINY HORSE, I'm begging

A galloping circus

When the moon begin her slow ascend on the still lit sky, one can feel a thimble in the air. A shift in the waves of air. Colder, harsher, agitating the sea and the ocean in a call to help their queen. And as the tides spiral 'til the stars to tickle them awake, the Masters of the night spread their limbs and smile a toothy grin.

One such Master is the First Star. Born from Lihtnighte and the Moon, coddled by the moms and gaped at and admired by the whole suite, the First Star learned to love its beauty. Worshipped by the humans for the light it offered, as bright as a second sun in the midst of shadows full of lurking beasts, the First Star learned to play with them.

It visited often on the Land. Amongst humans, unlike any other Master. Bored to no end, the First Star decided to stir up some fun...

"But what's fun for an immortal isn't fun for us, mere humans." You whispered under your breath, cementing your annoyance with a swift roll of your eyes. The horse you were tessellating neighed his agreement. He moved his head stubbornly against your comb when you approached his hair, meaning to braid it before the show.

The circus master gave you a stern look and repeated the last sentence to anchor himself in his speech again. The entire tent was witness to chaos and havoc below its curtains. Just like every time you visit the duke's domains.

You paid no mind to the story. You knew it by heart already. All people do, part of the circus or not. The First Star created it to amuse itself. At the beginning all was good. People presented their talents, made jokes, put plays in place, danced and singed as they did when celebrating the other Masters of the night.

But one human dared to question it. The First Star was too laid back, keeping people from their work days and nights in never ending rows; and thus harming their society. Taking great offense at the mortal, the First Star cursed her and the circus. Frozen in time, forced to perform for eternity in its name so that anyone else can move forward like the daring woman wanted.

Which is why the humans of the Land religiously respect the Bright Circus. Wherever it goes, every night it performs, the tent captures the unique light of the First Star, shining like a diamond on the ground.

You were a bit odd in this picture, though. You joined the circus willingly a hundred and seven years after it was made. Running from a marriage you wished no part of, fooled by enchanted promises and silvery lies.

The First Star appeared to you one night, startling Nightsun, your favored horse. A wild stallion none of your father's stable boys could tame. He bowed to you, though. The little lady y/l/n who would rather feed the horses and clam the hay than sit through manner lections and dress fittings.

It led you to the Bright Circus. "I've been watching you, miss y/l/n. I think you would be a marvelous addition to my Circus."

Indeed, you were. Your number was easily the most impressive one under the cursed tent. And despite the scary tales of the First Star's wrath - very clearly showed by the heavy pregnant woman that wiped the seats after the public left (the woman who dared go against the Master of the night that fateful day, you later learned) - you knew no one would go against its will. If the Star wanted you, the Star shall have you.

So, you traded a cursed destiny for another. Two hundred years you did the same thing, every night. Performing mostly for the depraved rich. You started your number alone in the middle of the sand circle that separated the Master of the night's puppets from the free public. Then, like a lightning against the night sky, Nightsun would come running in. Stardust caught in his caramel hair, moonbeams glistening off his soft light-brown skin. The effect that earned him his name, a sun in the night, shining bright enough to catch the First Star's eyes.

From here, you would improvise. Years of sneaking in the stables and hiding in the woods for moments of freedom taught you many things. To chase boredom away, you'd climb the horse and dance on his back. Or play around with Nightsun, on and off his saddle free form. Legs thrown in the air while your upper body supported you safely on Nightsun, a slow waltz alone on his back, twirling and jumping around and on the strong mustang... it all pleased the immortal star.

One day, though, another odd one stepped on your stage. A boy around your age... or rather the age you were before the curse froze you in time alongside the people of the Bright Circus. He was tall and lean, his hair cut carelessly, shorter on edges, cupping his face with wild curls. He walked with his head held high, even though his shoulders seemed to drop down on each step.

Hal. No last name, no middle name, no backstory. A boy brought in by the First Star one afternoon as mysteriously as it took you. All the boy owned was a beautiful horse that kept close to her master. A high mare of the deepest browns you've ever seen; one white strike split her face in two, completing the etheral image the horse made. Her, and the clothes on him.

You have tried guessing his life story from them, the dusty clothes he wore every night, washed in the river each morning. No luck. The fabric was simple, but lasting. A loose green shirt paired with a coat so long and light in weight you couldn't find it a practical purpose and tight black pants. Nothing to indicate the wealth. He could have been a smaller nobleman, a richer bourgeois or even a peasant dressed from well sewn patches of his master's old clothes. It was practiced by your father's servants.

Or perhaps even a duke's son who ran astray and found himself in an impossible situation. Your frustration with Hal only grew by the day, with his silent demeanor, reserved personality and loneliness. But you couldn't deny the excitement that rose in yourself with his arrival. No more were you alone under the scrunting gaze of a cruel public. No more were you alone, standing out against the family the first in the Circus created.

"Nervous?" He asked from the box next to yours. The First Star's magic fit inside the Bright Circus everything its inhibitors needed to please the viewers. Everything you did was to please them. And regardless of the story of the Circus' origins, they still seemed to have forgotten the pain and sufferance of people stuck in time for eternity on the whim of an angry immortal.

"He speaks," you teased friendly. You had gotten used to Hal and his antics: keeping mostly to himself when the group gathered around the fire after the show, eating alone on river's benches or with his horse in the stables. Venturing around the tent as often as he could.

A wanderer such as yourself.

One time, within a few days since he came to the Circus, you followed in his steps. It was the day you finally connected, a bond so sudden, so unusual that it could only strengthen shortly into an unbreakable one.

"What secrets do you hide, Hal? Could you be a changeling, spying for the Fae Queen? Or, even better! Perhaps a Forest Spirit."

The young man eyed you then. He let his gaze roam you, truly taking you in for the first time. Hal's frown unknitted his wrinkled brows and light touched his shadowed face unlike never before since you met him. Even a small tug of his lips fluttered at the corner of his mouth.

"Shouldn't you be more afraid if I was?"

"Oh, absolutely not! I hope you are, for I cannot make sense of you and that would be such a wonderful explanation."

He rose one brow, turning his whole self to look at you. You noticed an upside down Y shaped scar on his cheek. And you added it to the list of things you knew about your partner. A name, a secretive personality, expensive clothes, but unlike any noble's and an unknown wound on the side of his cheekbone. Such a great, useful list!

"Most people would be afraid of these beings. Even the ones who don't believe in their existence."

"But I'm sure they exist. If our Masters of the night are real, so can our folk tales. I would like to meet one. Or all. There can't be a whole world invisible to us full of only awful creatures."

A small smile graced Hal's lips, so genuine it took you by surprise and bewitched your mind and soul for a second or more. "Perhaps not." And you got the feeling he meant more that the stories that scare kids to sleep and serfs into labor.

"What's her name?" You asked when the silence became too much.

Hal smirked. "Tiny Horse."

You burst out laughing, all the pent up stress and curiosity flowing free in chimes of absurd happiness. The young man looked at your closed eyes, mouth wide open as your chest heaved with each laugh, head thrown back as you knotted your fingers in your horse's hair to keep from falling. And warmly smiled.

"Only when I have something to say. But you knw that already."

"That I do," you leaned from Nightsun to peak in Tiny Horse's box where Hal begrudgingly adorned the mare's mane with feathers and shiny stones, polished to look like authentic jewels.

"Don't worry about me, Hal. I'll survive. The horses, though..."

Hal scoffed. "I hate them. Whom do they think they are to demand how we or our horses look when we perform?!"

"A very influent duke and his court," you sighed as another scoff echoed from the boy.

Tiny Horse and Nightsun beat their hooves on the ground restlessly. A pained look passed both of your faces. All the ornaments itched the poor animals' quite badly. You and Hal had to stop your number for weeks after a visit at this duke's estate. You'd let the horses run free, bathing them, tessellating and sleeping in their boxes to make sure they're not sick.

"Why are they called nobles?" Hal mumbled. "There's nothing noble about them."

As always, there was that mysterious fog clouding his speech. A vengeful longing barely hidden. As if his past was haunting him still and Hal, bitter about it, felt trapped in his powerless state in the Bright Circus.

"The title may have bore some meaning long ago."

"It had no other meaning than stuck up minx lords believing they're better than anyone else."

"Was your landlord a bad man, then?" You asked, hoping to gain some information of his other life, before he danced with you on top of marvelous horses in a magical tent.

"Five minutes!" The pregnant lady, the Maker of the Bright Circus in her defiance of the immortal Star, announced. A shiver ran down your spine each time you saw her. Carrying an eight months babe in her womb for hundreds of years... you couldn't begin to imagine or understand such a nightmare!

When you turned, Hal and Tiny Horse already left.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

After you readied Nightsun, you tipped on your toes to watch the seats fill with well dressed ladies, trailing their gowns behind their tight waists and lords in the softest buffalo leather coats. You didn't miss the days a maid would wrap the corset around your bruised torso until you looked like the fragile porcelain doll you had to be. But the change of the world always made you sigh in wonder.

You would usually sneak under the seats, where the ground was low and created a small hole, enough to easily fit two people. And watched. No matter the public, rich, poor or serfs even, you enjoyed observing them. Comparing how everything was supposed to be in your time and how things evolved.

Sometimes, more often than not, Hal joined you. You would contemplate and comment together on the good and the bad of your realm and how swift the shift was, that the rest of the people who had the privillage of not being frozen in time didn't even notice it.

"I knew I'd find you here." He sighed, slugging his from to fit next to you.

"He says as if I'm the one who always disappears."

"Sorry. I didn't want to see them more than I have to."

Again with the thorny spite against nobles. Instead of prying on his past some more as your mind begged of you, you repositioned yourself to face him.

"Then how come you're here, now?"

"I thought better. Couldn't have possibly left you alone in such moments."

Your heart flipped at his words. And you blinked to spread the piercing warning of tears. You nodded, hoping Hal could tell how grateful you were, dropping your head on his shoulder softly. You raised a hand to cover his eyes.

"See anything?" When Hal shook his head you hummed in content. "Good. Now you can stay with me and not see the stuck ups."

Hal's body shook with laughter. Even though the sounds he made were muffled and barely audible, you embraced the vigorous movement with a happy smile.

The duke on whose lands you were about to perform has taken a special notice in you. He begin with sending his guards to escort you to the noble estate. Everyone knows the Circus disappears at the first stream of daylight, along with its cursed ones. No matter where they were. There was no escape.

You tried to push them aside, conjuring excuses such as needing to bath, wash the horse, feed him and yourself and everything you could have think of. When the duke himself started to press you to join him, he wouldn't take a refusal on your part.

"I'm so very sorry, m'lord, but I need a visit to the river nearby. All that effort and the fire-like light had me a gross mess of sweat and smell."

"My personal bathing chambers are a well deserved payment for your the likes of you."

"Thank you very much, you're too kind. Unfortunately my horse needs to be tend to."

"Don't you have servants to do the job? I am sure the First Star provides you all with every needed thing."

"No, m'lord. I have to take care of my horse myself."

"Then let me lend you some of my stables boys."

"I prefer it if no one touches Nightsun but me. It's better this way. A show horse caring looks different than a normal one."

It wasn't until Hal chimed in that the duke left you be. A demanding dominance adorning him as if he was meant to be listened to and he knew it. And the duke felt it too. But he would always start anew each time the Circus stopped on his lands.

Hal has proven to be a rock for your sanity in the decades you spent together. And you suspected - or at the very least hoped so - that you gave him some sort of comfort as well.

"I- I didn't have a landlord." He whispered after some time. Your hand still over his eyes. Better this way, perhaps. If you could see the green entrance to Hal's soul, he might close to you again.

You remined silent. An encouraging brush of your nose against his shoulder the only sign you were paying attention.

"I was raised at Court. The royal Court. Surrounded by so called nobles. Disgusting men like this duke. I learned to see their true faces."

You muffled a yelp of surprise at his words. Never in your wildest assumption have you thought Hal might come from the King's palace.

His body tensed against your feather light touch. "What happened?" It was the question that conveyed all your curiosities. Though you weren't content with it still.

Hal let out a mocking gruff of laughter. "What happened? They poisoned me. My... the King favored me and I didn't favor them. So they poisoned me."

"The First Star saved you." The words traveled through you on their own accord. An extension of the mind who focused on what it can understand from the pieced story Hal gave you.

He nodded, shifting to face you, letting his forehead drop on your shoulder. Your palm still on his face, but Hal knew your body as he did his own. As you did your own and his as well. When you danced, you never rehearsed your moves from the start. You improvised. Always something new. Never the same choreography. You learned your bodies well. Could feel each other edges and presence even in the dark, even with your eyes closed. And it became an unconscious part of your lives and instincts.

"It came to me that night. I could barely see it, vision blurry with tears and the fog of looming end. I couldn't breath and my own blood tasted bitter in my mouth. That I managed a nod at the First Star proposal is a miracle."

"Do you regret it?"

"Do you?" Hal shot back, raising his had and softly removing your hand from his eyes as he straighten. Back to his usual self, as if he didn't just open up to you more than ever.

"No." You whispered, a sense of betrayal sneaking from the back of your mind.

You hated the First Star and the Bright Circus and what it does to its poor people. But you wouldn't change your answer all those years ago. Because you're not free right now and you will never be, but at least now you can ride, you can dance, you are husbandless and... and you met Hal. You cannot regret whatever choice led you to him. Or rather, led him to you.

"Yeah," Hal agreed, watching the different emotions fill your e/c eyes like a tangled web. "I don't regret living or having all the time in the world to spend with Tiny Horse. I don't regret my life means riding her, dancing... and you." A blush colored his cheeks as Hal pierced your soul with his own. Trembling lashes the only indicative of his nervousness. Gone as soon as you noticed it. Replaced by the suppressed anger so familiar to his gaze.

"But I do regret what has been take from me. What I didn't know how to appreciate as my brother did and didn't want hard enough as my brother did. I could have done so much for so many. Be the man my father wanted because the Land needed it..."

"Shh." You hugged Hal tight as his words turned into whispers and his body convulsed with unshed tears and rage. "Shhh. It's alright." You didn't understand much of his rambling. But you understood the feeling of shuttering guilt for enjoying a new life that hurts so many, the missing of a far away past that hurt and hurts still. And the need to change, to help.

"It's alright. We're both here now. Nothing to do about it. I've got you."

"I've got you." He repeated slower and nodded his head and blink his lids to shake off the tears welled in those mesmerizing green pools.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Soon all the seats were taken. A sea of people fit under the magic veil of the Bright Circus. You and Hal sneaked out of your hidden spot. It was time to take you places and get ready.

The show went on as usual. The kids went first, with their makeshift dolls from corn or wood. With the magic of the First Star they could now bring the objects to life. Orchestrate a play they wrote themselves. Never one the same as the kids, even those frozen in times for centuries, have an infinite supply of imagination.

Then Hlaf, former baker in a life long since gone, would enter the stage. He'd contort his body in such manner he could fit through a ring off a lady's finger. Following suit, Feora and Engel would amaze the public with their wire walking. Such a thin thread of cotton, suspended on twenty meters in the air, the two sisters seemed to fly.

Later came Seax with their blades and Deor with her wild animals, somehow tame to her words. After, Blīþe followed with his jokes. The short man could talk for hours and the people would laugh their breath away. But as all things must come to an end, new ones must begin.

You weren't paying attention to the movement around you. Eyes fixed on the duke, in the middle of the first row. A start coursed through your body as you felt someone's touch at your side. Hal was squeezing your hand tight, hid thumb brushing over the back of your palm in soothing circles.

"I've got you," he whispered. "And you've got this."

A nervous smile trembled on your lips, though a genuine flicker twitched the corners of your mouth. "We've got this."

"Y/n, Hal, you're turn." The First Woman of the Bright Circus spoke behind you. The Show Runner was making your introduction, the same as always: Admired grandees and dear workers, young and less so, folk of the Land, you know our story, but you don't know theirs. Everyone is aware of our blessing, but theirs is a mystery the First Star landed upon us for reason only it can be privy to. But fret not, my darlings, for their talent is undeniable. Majestic. Welcome our marvelous pair of equestrian dancers!

You and Hal rolled your eyes at the same time. Your heart skipping beats, shoulders tensed, forcefully rolled back. His jaws set, muscles pulsing on the beat of his heavy heart.

Nightsun and Tiny Horse entered the sand circle, your stage. In a mist of maroon-yellow dust lifted in the air by their grumpy hooves. The two horses settled their pace, slowing down as they moved in the circle facing each other, distance closing in, in, in...

Hal took off. Fierce. Fast. Like a knight charging into battle. The man hadn't stop a second until his feet gently hit the back of the strong mare. Hal didn't climb up, he jumped. No hands rested on the side of the horse to help him. Just a flex of his knees, a wide jump and he twirled in the air to land gracefully on top of Tiny Horse.

The people, who have been holding their breath, afraid to even blink to not lose a beat of his steps, released the now warm air at once. Then the tent filled with the deep, bearish noise of clapping, sighs of admiration, whistles and appreciative murmurs.

Your turn. Hal is waiting for you. You close your eyes to take the duke's image out of your mind, life your chin and fix your gaze on him. On Hal. The unexpected friend in which you found comfort, affection. Love, you dared name it now, to give you strength. Though you were pushing the feeling down for over a decade. As sweet and kind he is to you, he is still Hal. The cold, privet man who opens up about himself in riddles and so rare he doesn't make sense.

Except... he shouldn't make sense. And in your mind he doesn't. But your heart learned the language of his summer green eyes, the rhythm of his laugh and the beat of his soul.

"Go," she whispered impatiently. And this time her pregnant form didn't sent shivers down your body. You were so light, your body but a feather through the air as you neared Nightsun and Hal. Hal who smiled warmly at you from the just as lovely mare.

Turning to your left side as you reached the perfect spot for what you had in mind - not too close to your stallion, but close enough to work - you leaned all your weight on your left leg. The right one in the air, pulling your body after it. You felt every muscle, every tendon stretch. Then you landed on Nightsun's back with your right foot first, turning to the rows of stunned people.

It happened quick. They needed a moment to understand what they saw. And when they did, another round of heavy tinkle break through your haze.

"Showoff." Hal mumbled jokingly, so low you almost didn't hear.

"Not at all. You simply think so because you are, in fact, lazy today."

"Not lazy. Just... he doesn't deserve my best."

"Mine neither. But the little kids and the tired serfs do, hmm?"

Hal snapped his head towards you, greeted being by your questioning, almost disappointed eyes and raised eyebrows. He sighed. "You're right."

He offered you his hand, pulling you towards him as you swirled in the air until your feet brushed his - both bare - on Tiny Horse. Hal smiled and wiped the hair clean off your face before you tackled him, palms on his shoulders and switch back to Nightsun, right as he arrived to your subtle calling.

You couldn't last more under Hal's mellow gaze. The suave curve of lips welcoming you, reassuring you. You wanted more. You wanted the secrets behind his walls to include a love just as burning for you as yours was for him.

You took one deep breath and carried on. A web of limbs and bodies was made out of you and Hal, clutching tight to each other as you jumped and flew together. As you swayed to music you hummed in harmony, shaken closer and closer by horses beneath you.

Hal would take your wrists in his hands and let you walk the air on Tiny Horse's side as he supported your weight. You shifted your upper body until your shoulder were glued to his and rolled over, knocking some sand where you landed.

Hal moved one of his feet on Nightsun and circled you, proud and glowing like a Master of the Night in one of their chariots. When you could focus, you jumped and got behind him, legs wrapped around his torso as you climbed to sit on his shoulders.

"Get up. On your feet." He suggested for the ending. And you did. You placed your feet on his shoulders and waved to the public as Hal led the horses away. The night was done.

Or so you believed. Hal stopped the small convoy you created at the stables, leaving to get you both and the horses some food as the Show Runner wrapped up with the people.

Sighing in content, you laid your forehead in between Nightsun's and Tiny Horse's. Caressing each of their sides. "All done, my dearests. All done. You did so good. Amazing! I- we are both proud of you. Good job."

The horses neighed, something troubling them. You assumed it was the ornaments and moved to removed the sparkling feathers and golden jewels. But as you took the needed steps back, a thick hand wrapped around your stomach and pulled you behind.

Nightsun and Tiny Horse shifted the weight on their back legs, charging at your attacker. But the duke, as you recognized the piercing smell of a poor attempt to hide the sweat with aromatic plants' essence, moved his arm up until it pressed against your neck and pushed something shiny out front, pointing to the horses.

A ruffle, you realized, bile coming up your throat.

"Don't you dare hurt them." You warned. Though your voice was weak, strangled by the too big arm of the old man.

"Oh, but I don't want, beautiful y/n," he said, stuffing his nose in your hair and sniffing with a pleased sigh. A shudder passed through each and every of your bones as the hair on your arms picked up against the goosebumped skin.

Disgust. Towards him and also towards your powerless fear.

"All you have to do is stay still and let me have a taste for the animals to live."

"The only animal I see here is you." You spat. You knew there was no way you could put up a fight. Get away. He will have what he wants. But the least you could do was make sure it's as unpleasant as it can be. Reminding him of how small of a man he is. How disgusting, useless, pathetic...

A shot. Tiny Horse and Nightsun broke their deffence and whined, the sound scratching your ears. You tried to run to them, but the arm still painfully pressed against your neck chocked you.

"If the bulled touched even a bit of their hair..." you warned, but the duke cut you off.

"They're fine, dumb animals. Getting scared out of a little shot. The bullet went between them, probably stuck in one of those trees. But make no mistakes, I can and I will shoot them if you don't behave for me. Clear?"

Tears picked at your eyes as you nodded. Staying still when the duke relaxed the arm holding you hostage. Folding under his touch as he urged you to lay down, legs slightly apart.

If your parents could see you right now, a stray thought sneaked in. Making such a sacrifice for two some beast, you could hear your mother say. Don't be an idiot, y/n, your father would agree in his usual stoic manner.

Were you? Being an idiot? Should you fight the duke at the expense of your and Hal's horses and actually get away? Could you?

It was too late to wonder such things. The duke let his pants fall to his knees, hovering over you as he begin to undress your lower parts too.

You bit your lip, praying to your body to relax as your mother taught you for your wedding night. Night that never came. She said it would hurt less if you relax. But what about the pang in your heart and the loudness in your head. Thought banging against your skull, a bloody fist pulling at your heart, sunking it down, down, down...

You braced yourself. Lips sealed, teeth closed tight on the inside of your cheeks, head turned to the side in an attempt to see your wild mustang, untamed and free in spirit even in these or your father's stables and Hal's brave mare, strong and powerful. Eyes so fixed in the darkness your vision begin to blur.

And you waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing came.

Pushing yourself up on your elbow, you saw the duke's body lying in a wrong position at your feet. Above it, Hal stood cowered by the weight of his rage. His curls messier than ever, curved spine raising dangerously low as his breath hitched, coming too fast. His deep, smart eyes now crazed with wrath, bulged in two perfectly round shapes. In his hand, gripped by long, trembling fingers, a knife shone under the moonlight. Scarlet red blood glistening off of it.

"Hal?"

Your voice seemed to wake him from his fury. He turned your way, features softening on an instant, worry blooming in the spring of his eyes. He was careful to avoid your bare parts, gaze locked only on your face. Looking for signs of shock settling in.

"Yes, it's me." He said carefully.

You nodded. Relief flooded your senses so sudden and with such force, you begin trembling, letting the tears you fought so far fall with loud sobs and ragged breaths.

The brain couldn't keep up with the heart. You were fine. Nothing happened. But the mind struggled to grasp it. Too beautiful to be true. Hot blood pushed against cold limbs. Dried tongue tried to water chipped lips, to sooth the sting in the inside of your cheeks.

"You're fine. He's gone. Dead. You're safe." Hal spoke slow. Pointed. Making sure each of his words hit your ears and understanding.

You nodded. "I know. Thank you." Your voice was yours, but not your own. Changed with the weight of the scare. Rough and gruff.

Hal nodded as well. "I'll see to the horses, if that's alright."

He wanted to give you space. But your blood boiled now, heating every part of your body. Making your brain restless and your body so large, scattered, yet small, so, so small.

"Stay, please."

He stiffened, but did as you asked. Stepping over the corpse, leaked blood staining both of your still bare feet. Hal sat next to you, welcoming you in his arms as you scooped closer and closer until you sat in his lap.

Arms around his neck, his own supporting your back, rubbing it up and down, but never touching lower than your middle. Head hidden in the crook of his neck, breathing his scent as if it was a calming plant. Hal's head rested atop yours, the soft part of his cheek flat against the crown of your hair. Your heart steadied to follow his heart's rhythm. Your mind cleared of anything to let itself be filled with Hal. Only Hal.

The metallic scent of blood beat at your nostrils. You both ignored it, safe in your embrace. Part of your own world now. This one, no other more.

Seconds passed. Hours, days, months perhaps. An eternity and thousands more could have passed around you and neither would have noticed. Content as you were. Peaceful. Happy.

But all things must come to an end.

You tried to remember how it happened. Every detail of those terrible moments. You never were able to. A blur. A fading questioning under the weight of sharp voices and chilling orders. A shape of a distant color merged together from seven uniforms, seven people.

They took Hal first. Clothes still soaked in nappy red. They ripped him from you, limbs webbed, clinging tight to one another. And as they stepped away, finally holding Hal in their grip, you stumbled over him.

You barely noticed when the guards picked the lifeless body up, or when some servants and ladies in waiting caressed with soft words the newly widow's ears, deaf to any consolation.

A passing wondering flew through your mind - would she still be devastated had she known what the duke meant to do to you? - but you had no time to ponder over it.

"Hal!"

"Don't. Y/n, stay here. Go away. The hoses need you," he hoped to convince you. But it's a magic Circus, with magic proportions. There will be food for Tiny Horse and Nighstun and someone will attend to them. After all, the Cursed Ones are good people, a family. And even the animals are part of it.

"Let him go. He was only protecting me."

In another time, you would have known no one would care. You weren't a good lady anymore. Had your mind had been clearer, you would have remembered it. Hal seemed to better adjust to a titleless condition, regardless of the danger looming over him.

Would he be hanged? Can someone in the Bright Circus die? Lihtnighte wouldn't allow it for sure, right?

All the questions bugged through your head as you tried to pry the guards arms off your partner. Your Hal. Even without the love you nurtured for him, you owed him a try. He killed to save you. He is in this messy business because of you.

But you had too little force, exhausted as you were - and the guards, too much. They easily charged you with treason as well, for daring to stand between an act of punishment for a high criminal. Soon, you and Hal found yourselves on a short path to the ducal palace.

The journey there was made in silence. Hal was being kept at the back of the convoy - that turned to be a funeral walk as well - while they held you in the front. Even so, you felt his eyes on you, burning the back of your neck with care and concern. He didn't like the five men between which you were trapped. You neither. But more you hated the vile guards who tied Hal's hands by their horse's saddles and forced him to walk as they set the riding pace to slow gallop.

Hal and you were calm, though. Calmer than two people soon to be judged and executed should be. Everyone found it frustrating. The whimpers of fear, the wobbling lips and running noses, the teary eyes and chocked voices, it all fed the guards the sense of power they need to feel. The entitlement over one's - over many - life.

And they knew, of course they did. You won't die. You won't even catch sunrise in the dungeons. You both will vanish at the first gleam of sunlight. And if death might fall upon you, you both will wake up, well and alive, under the Circus' tents. So was your blessing and your curse.

So the guards seethed. Locked their teeth and hoped the widow duchesse would want to have your pained screams as payment for her beloved husband's death. If killing you was not an option, showing you a faith worse than must do.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

The castle rose dark and tall, a giant's shadow looming over crops and fragile wooden houses in the valley. This particular duke hadn't took care of his servants' needs.

In opposition, the walls of the fortress were thick and standing. Richness as you have yet to see adorned the architecture. Crenels sharp and dangerous barred their teeth to you from above. And a solid wooden gate draped over a deep river, filled with Masters of the night know what beasts.

Inside, a torch lit corridor swallowed the light from your eyes. So used to the night and the soft gleam of moonlight, the beauty of the stars' glister on the blue-black sky, your pupils closed in two small strawberry's kernels.

"I've forgotten how it feel like. Being inside a palace," Hal mumbled at your side. His sudden presence should have startled you, but never again could his voice be anything but calming and comforting.

The guards let you loose, tied up to a rope they carried much in front. Leading you to the duchesse court.

"Such a big noble you used to be?"

Hal didn't speak no more. Set jaws and a shaky breath the only answer you got.

Finally, you entered a golden antechamber. Soon, you'll meet your faith... for now. As the new day must not be far, if you rightly assumed.

"Move." A rough hand pulled you forward, casing you to stumble through the open doors and almost fall on the thick woolen carpet.

You weren't scared, you knew it. But something still stopped your from lifting your head. An unsettling feeling weighing heavy above and around.

You dared a peak to Hal. See if he feels the same. But his eyes roamed the walls in shocked awe. Lining your sight to match his gaze, you looked at the portraits displayed by the yet to appear duchesse. You saw the king who ruled when you were a little girl. His son next to him. Older than you remembered. But then again, you haven't seen the prince as he became King. The First Star made sure of it. The next men were all the same: stoic under the heavy crown, a scepter and a white fur finalizing the royal look. They all shared similar features too. A long and strong line of succession.

The certainty of a unmoving past captured not in stone, but in color and art lulled your brain into a foggy haze. You let it wrap you whole and sush the ringing bells of questioning the unreliable future you had open in front of you.

Until your eyes found eyes you knew so well. Eyes you stared into for ages. That gave you strength, loyalty and love. Eyes that bulked out of their sockets on the face next to you.

"Hal?"

Raised at Court. Favored by the late king. Poisoned by jealous, zealous lords. A brother who wanted it all... It made sense now. Even if you were yet to comprehend. Hal, the boy you danced with, ride with, love. Hal, the silent, smart, stoic boy who hides a sarcastic funny, sensible man. Hal, a King of the Land.

"You...?"

You turned to face him, but he - sheepish - wouldn't meet your gaze.

"You were the King."

A nod. Barely. More likely a bob of his head.

"And now you're not."

Hal pointed to a painting next to his own. So much bigger. So much Imposing. Another man, not as handsome as Hal, lacking the mettlesome, sharp look Hal bear in his eyes, without a benevolent, yet threatening smile like Hal's that gave way to his nature - born to rule, king to his subjects, merciless with his enemies.

"My brother," a small voice like you've never heard from him before spoke through an ocean of howling water. "The one the lords supported when he went after my throne."

His throne. He said it with so much longing, yet too much sufferance.

"Wait," realization seemed to sink in, "your brother, the nobles.. they poisoned you for him? He knew about it?"

Another bob of his head. An even smaller nod. As if strings attached to the back of his head pulled and pushed at the same time. Pain and anger.

"This duke supported them?"

"Likely so."

"Your portrait is the only one polished though."

Hal frowned. He hadn't notice it, but it was true. And it confused him.

But neither you, nor him had the time to elucidate the issue. The doors blew open once more and a short woman, wearing all black from the thin veil covering her face to the flat sole shoes, strode in. She marched to the huge chair, modeled to look like a throne. Before she could sit, however, her eyes slipped on Hal and she jumped as if the seat suddenly burned her.

A yelp echoed in the room, sharp and high. Through the layer resting over the duchesse's face you could see her eyes growing in size, lids hiding in the crests of her wrinkled skin.

"Prince... I mean King Harry, Your Majesty," she bowed so low her headdress brushed the floor's dales.

"Harry?" You mouthed to Hal, trying to laugh off the feeling of betrayal threatening to consume you.

But Hal didn't spare you a glance. An eyebrow raised, straightening his back and raising his chin higher, he waited for the duchesse to get up.

"You call me your king, but you mourn one of my killers."

"Oh, Your Majesty, please! I begged him not to do it..."

"And hanged the usurpator's portrait to shadow mine," Hal continued as if the woman didn't utter a word. Ever since you left with the Bright Circus you stopped paying attention to the more normal wordly things. Such as kings and succession. But you tried to remember now a time when you felt this type of power surging from one of your father's friends or the King himself when you visited the Court. And failed.

The way Hal talked without raising his voice, yet his will spread and overwhelmed everyone in the room... nothing could compare to it. You wanted to be upset, angry with him for hiding all of this from you. Sad he missed and enjoyed this life so obviously much. But you couldn't.

Watching him now, the satisfied curve of his lips, the fire in his eyes, the sweet speech with which he let the words fly... he was always beautiful. A Master of the night in disguise. Now he fit the immortal god part like a glove. And you found yourself falling for him even more.

"And with the money and power you got from it, you torture MY people," this time he let the rage slip in his tone. The duchesse flinched. A bright smile surprised you blooming on your lips.

"Your Majesty, I'm sorry. I didn't want it. This. I had to. I'm sorry. I polished your portrait in the hope you shall return one day. I always believed."

Hal glanced on the clustered window, covered with heavy satin drapes and colorful glass art. He managed to see what you sensed. Dawns of the new day coming soon.

You draw your lip between your teeth. There was no choice to be made, Hal will come back with you, rather he likes it or not. But you watched him in worry still. Bothered by the thought he may not want to return.

"If this is true, Duchesse, then do better than your husband. Govern these lands, these people, better. And don't be afraid to cut the roots of evil, whomever might be so. Your late husband would have dishonored an innocent girl," his voice lowered, eyes dreamy, "if I wouldn't have killed him. It was justice I served, a punishment he deserved. Lose the crape and begin the change. That's an order form your King."

"Yes, Your Majesty. At once, Your Majesty. Oh, this is such a blessed day! All my men are at your disposal, my king. Just giver the order and they'll stand behind you to take back your throne. I have enough friends that have been waiting for your return to form a strong army and..."

"I do no wish an army, Duchesse. As you know, I am bound to the Bright Circus. I cannot - will not - leave." Hal's eyes slid subtly to you, hand reached for a reassuring squeeze. The duchesse missed it, too baffled to pay attention to anything nut her working mind attempting to wrap around the news.

"But surely there must be a way to break the curse. There has to. I will find it, Your Majesty, I swear it to you. I will free you!"

"Only if you break hers too. Y/n's. If I shall be King, she's my only Queen."

'Twas the last thing he said before the familiar warmth enveloped your hugging bodies, taking you to your small new family of centuries, in a another part of the Land.

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belit0 · 8 months

Note

OMG, ANIMALS BY MAROON 5 FOR INDRA OR MADARA😭🥺 (if it's for Madara let's say that the reader is powerful and they're enemies, enemies to lovers🤭)

Especially the parts where it's like

For Indra I feel like he'd say the part that's like:

Maybe you think that you can hide

I can smell your scent from miles

Just like animals animals, like animals

(btw you can make them say whatever part of the song you want!)

For madara I feel like he'd say:

So what you trying to do to me?

It's like we can't stop, were enemies

But we get along when I'm inside you

And if this is for madara why do I imagine the reader saying this part to him😭:

You're like a drug that's killing me

I cut you out entirely

But I get so high when I'm inside you

(I imagine her to be fiesty and like that too💀😭)

Anyways continuing on😭

Yeah you can start over you can run free

You can find other fish in the sea

You can pretend it's meant to be

But you can't stay away from me

And so on.

I always choose Indra for everything, what can I say🤣💫

Tiny clarification: this happens on an A/B/O AU, where Alphas can mind control Omegas after marking them

"I'm preying on you tonight, (Y/N)." She hears that fearsome voice in her mind, but she can't see him anywhere. (Y/N) flees, running fast through the city and trying to get as far away as possible from her hunter, but she knows it's no use.

Indra made sure to scar her, to be able to track and chase her until finding her, leaving a mark on her neck that unites them in a private and deep way. She couldn't hide even if she wanted to, and her biggest mistake was allowing him to bite her.

"Hunt you down eat you alive, just like animals." He speaks in a leisurely, calm pace, as if he's sure he'll have no trouble locating her. (Y/N) looks in all directions expecting to suddenly find him on the street, to see him turn around some corner or get out of some car, catch her in his cruel claws and devour her right then and there.

It doesn't happen, where is he?

"Maybe you think that you can hide yet I can smell your scent for miles." She gets even more nervous, unable to stop running, trying to gain distance between the two. For Alphas being able to detect Omegas no matter the distance is unfair in cases like this, where the dominant simply loses his mind and the submissive is trapped in a vortex of madness and doom.

She cannot separate from him even if she wishes it with her heart and soul, imprisoned by the ownership mark he left between her clavicle and ear.

"What you trying to do to me?! It's like we can't stop, we're enemies!" (Y/N) mentally answers, trying to make him understand she doesn't want him around, that she prefers to run away all her life than to be in his hands again.

Of course, it is impossible to escape from Indra.

"But we get along when I'm inside you." Is the only thing he replies, and the lack of agitation in his words makes her understand that he is in no hurry to capture her. The cat and mouse game could take days with him, weeks or months, time he will use to demolish her psychologically and catch her when she least expects it.

"You're like a drug that's killing me, I cut you out entirely!" (Y/N) speaks inside her mind, making the message reach him without having to move her lips. She pauses for a second to catch her breath, tired and desperate, unable to think what to do.

She was lucky to make it to the street and run, yet it may be over soon.

"But I get so high when I'm inside you, (Y/N)."

She shivers with panic and pleasure all at the same time, because even though she tries to deny it, that mark Indra left on her neck allows him to amplify her pleasure, make her malleable and earnestly enjoy what he would believe appropriate. He turned her into his doll, and relaxed in the belief that she would not have enough will to break that forced spell.

"You can start over, you can run free, you can find other fish in the sea. You can pretend it's meant to be..." He puts suspense into each statement, and the woman can imagine the satisfied smile he must have on his face as he speaks "But you can't stay away from me."

"I can still hear you making that sound, taking me down rolling on the ground..." She responds without even thinking, the sensation Indra forces through the mark choking her mind and making her lose control. E

It's too dangerous, even more so when Alphas are this powerful.

She feels how her desire to fight disappears, how he eats every part of her spirit little by little, stripping her of that impulse that made her run away, escape from him. Indra devours her insides even without being present, plaguing her mind with complicated words and assaulting her body with terrible sensations.

For someone so evil to generate so much pleasure is just wrong.

"So... if I run it's not enough, you're still in my head forever stuck... I guess you can do what you wanna do..." She hears herself, but does not recognize her words. Tiredness, panic, urgency, all those factors contribute to making her vulnerable, weak, ready to fall into the hunter's hands.

"I love your lies (Y/N), I'll eat 'em up, but don't deny the animal that comes alive when I'm inside you." He is close, she can feel his presence everywhere at the same time, stalking her and waiting for the perfect moment.

That sensation brings her soul back to her body, closing her mind with effort to stop the man from talking to her, ignore him, to continue with her attempt of escaping.

"Don't tell no lie... you can't deny... the beast inside..." Are the last words before erasing him completely from her head, making disappear with her naked will any attempt he might have to capture her with mental traps.

The mark he left on her neck gives him an advantage, of course, but (Y/N) won't give up. She will escape as far as necessary, she will travel as long as it takes, and will not submit to the desires of an Alpha who manipulates her as he wishes.

Indra will not catch her.

#indra otsutsuki x reader #otsutsuki indra x reader #indra x reader #otsutsuki indra #indra otsutsuki #indra #naruto #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #uchiha clan #naruto x reader #abo au #abo

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onceuponastory · 2 years

Text

normal - steve kemp x reader: chapter nine: survival instinct

“In the land of Gods and Monsters I was an angel living in the garden of evil” - gods and monsters by lana del rey

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Steve Kemp x Female!Reader Chapter Warnings: As always, 18+ ONLY PLEASE. This chapter has mentions of death, murder, stabbing, cannibalism, serial killers, kidnapping, manipulation, a lot of blood, graphic descriptions of violence and injuries, and weapons (specifically knives). Also a tiny smut mention. Once again, everything Steve does to people in Fresh is a warning. And of course, Steve Kemp and Nick Fowler, because those two are warnings all on their own, let alone together. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: The penultimate chapter is here! Can you believe we’re on number nine already? I’m sorry it took me so long to write it, but I hope you like it. I’m not sure if my taglist was notified about chapter eight, so if you haven’t read it, please read that first. This chapter is not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.

Also, hope you all like the new header I made!

As soon as he’s finished reading the note, Steve’s blood boils, and he throws the letter down angrily. “Shit!” He hisses, angrily kicking one of the kitchen cabinets. He’s going to kill that bastard. Yet, despite his anger, an overwhelming feeling of guilt overtakes Steve. If he hadn’t been so angry and listened to Y/N’s worries, or even went back to the house with her, this wouldn’t have happened.

And now, she might be dead. But even if she’s not dead, what if she hates him? What if she resents him for failing to keep her safe? That possibility tears him up inside. Y/N’s the love of his life. He can’t lose her. Honestly, Steve’s still confused by his seeming complete change of heart and personality for Y/N. After all, he used to relish in terrorising her, just like everyone else he’d ever met. Yet Y/N was different from everyone else. From their first meeting, he sensed some kind of connection, and strange feelings he had towards her.

They were unexplainable at first, but now he knows it was the first sign of him falling in love with her. That’s partly why he was so unwelcoming to Y/N at first, hoping that scaring her away would stop his strange feelings for her, the one woman he could never have. The person who would always see him as a monster. In fact, keeping her away only made the feelings stronger. When he finally admitted it to himself, he felt so much better. Even though he knew he couldn’t tell Y/N, not wanting to put her at risk. After all, the whole reason he took her when he broke out was to keep her safe. Safe from people like Nick Fowler. And now he’s completely failed, and might lose the one person he loves the most in this world. He can’t let that happen. He has to save her.

Grabbing the letter, Steve looks over it once more. ‘Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, and dust to dust. When we all fall asleep, where do we go?’ Steve knows where Nick means immediately and he quickly rushes out of the door. “Just hold on Y/N. I’m coming.”

Pain. That’s all Y/N recognises. Pain. The back of her head is throbbing, and her entire body feels like it's screaming at her. Everything hurts, even breathing. As Y/N winces in pain, she can taste something metallic in her mouth. It doesn’t take her long to realise what the taste is. God, Nick must’ve hit her pretty hard. A strange moaning noise fills the air, and Y/N doesn’t even want to think about where it’s coming from. She just wants to leave and go back to Steve.

Steve. God knows what he’s thinking right now. No doubt he thinks she’s fled and gone to the FBI and CIA to spill everything. “No. He won’t think that. He can’t. Steve loves me, and I love him. He has to know that.” She thinks. Their argument flashes through her mind again, and Y/N sniffs. The last thing she and Steve did was argue. And now she might never be able to tell him she’s sorry. Steve’s pained face haunts her memory. He looked so hurt by her words. Not that she blames him, though. After all, she basically told him she hates being with him. Or at least, that’s how it came across. Hopefully, he heard her screaming or realised something was wrong, and he’s looking for her.

Even though at this rate, Y/N’s not holding out much hope. So, it’s time to save herself. Using all her strength just to lift her body off the floor, Y/N tries to sit up, clenching her teeth to get through the pain. Immediately, she regrets her decision as the pain in her head amplifies, and she becomes even dizzier. Yet despite how weak she feels, Y/N knows she has to push through, because her survival depends on it. She tries to use her hands to steady herself, but she can’t move them. She wiggles her wrists, feeling the hard plastic of a zip tie digging into her skin. Shit.

Still, she tries to push herself up, but her body is too weak to support itself, and it drops. She lands with a dull thud against the floorboards, the sharp pain in her side intensifying as her body hits the ground. A moan of pain escapes her lips, and she sobs. So that’s where the moaning noise was coming from. Her. “Please…someone. Help me.” She whimpers, too weak to even try to scream. Her words come out as muffled, and Y/N realises that Nick’s probably stuck tape over her mouth. The building is silent, aside from the noise of the storm still raging outside. Would anyone even hear her scream? Wincing, Y/N looks around wherever she’s being kept.

She realises where she is almost immediately. There are two stained glass windows, one across from her and one a few feet away. Their faces stare down at her, as if they’re judging her. Nick brought her to the church, and by the looks of it, stuffed her in a cramped back room somewhere. The room is musty and dirty, and Y/N realises it’s definitely not been used in a while. So she’s going to die in an abandoned church. Great. In a way, the room’s musty smell reminds her of the cabin. But at least that place was a home for her, somewhere for her to live her dream life with Steve, even if only for a little while. This place is a nightmare, rather than a dream.

Yet strangely, the sight of the stained glass windows and their judgemental faces almost makes Y/N laugh. After all, her parents and co-workers always thought her job made her a monster. And now, Nick’s brought her to be judged before she dies. Even though Y/N doesn’t want to die, deep down, a part of her wonders if it’s what she deserves. Dying all alone, with everyone she knows hating her.

She squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that if she tries hard enough, she’ll wake up, everything will be over, and Nick Fowler will be far away from her. She knows it’s useless to try, but it’s not like she has any other options. It’s like what she used to do when she was a child: hiding under her blankets and singing to herself in the hopes it made the monsters go away. Her parents told her to do that, actually. She knows now that they did it so they didn’t have to deal with her waking them up every night, but back then, she thought the power of her singing could save herself. Of course, the real world doesn’t work like that. In the real world, monsters are a lot less easy to spot. She knows that for sure now.

Another memory enters her mind then, one from a few days ago. Steve had found an old radio in the cabin, and with the help of George, got it working. Steve pulled her up to dance as the room filled with music.

“Oh no. I can’t dance. Trust me, you do not want me stepping on your toes Steve.” Y/N laughed, but Steve pulled her close, grinning as he twirled her under his arm.

“Y/N. I have been waiting months to hold you and dance with you like this.” He whispered, peppering kisses all over her which made her giggle. “And I’m not letting go of you yet.” As the music played on, Y/N and Steve danced together, safe and comfortable in the other’s embrace. Soon, the vocals of Ella Fitzgerald played, and Steve smiled. “Come on, sing with me.”

“Absolutely not. I can’t sing either.” Steve laughed.

“That’s such a lie. I heard you in the shower.” Still though, Y/N shook her head, and Steve sighed. “Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper…’I love you’” Steve mouthed, kissing her once more.

Y/N would give anything to return to that moment. To be safe with the one she loves, dancing to Ella Fitzgerald in their new home together.

With a groan, Y/N rolls over onto her back. Even though she knows it doesn’t work, it still doesn’t hurt to try singing again. And besides, at least she can close her eyes and imagine she’s singing to Steve. And at least she’ll die doing something that brings her comfort. Taking a shaky breath, Y/N begins to sing. “Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper, ‘I love you’…birds singing in the sycamore trees…dream a little dream of me.”

As time goes on, Y/N drifts in and out of daydreams. Her pain has subsided a little, but that doesn’t mean that this nightmare is over. As she lays there, thinking over the good times she had in her life (mostly with Steve), she wonders what’s going to happen to her. Maybe she’s just going to be left here to die slowly from all her injuries. Or maybe Nick is coming back to finish the job.

Whatever it is, by this point, she just hopes that it’s over quickly.

“Look who’s awake!” Nick’s voice sounds, and a chill fills Y/N’s blood. Speak of the Devil. Immediately, her mind goes back through all her training and what she’s supposed to do in this sort of situation. And to think she used to be terrified it would be Steve doing this to her in a situation like this, and thought Nick would be the one to save her. If only she knew back then how wrong she was. Steve has left marks of love and protection on her, and Nick has only caused pain and destruction. Y/N casts her mind back to the times she spent with Steve, and to the love they shared. Finally, after everything life put her through: all the rejection and the pain, she was happy.

And now, she’s about to lose it all.

Nick peers down at her, the fear on Y/N’s face making him smirk. “Did you sleep well, sweetheart?” He mocks, knowing how much she hates hearing that nickname from him. The more he calls her that, the more Y/N wants to punch him. “I’d say I was sorry about all…this.” He sighs. “But I’m not though. This is what you get when you don’t do what you’re told, Y/N. You should’ve kept your nose out of this.”

Y/N stares up at Nick, using her eyes to plead with him to let her go…or at least to just make things easier for her. “You know, even though I wish you kept your nose out of things, for an FBI Agent, I’m surprised it took you so long to realise that I was behind everything. You were so sure you’d stop me, and thought you were better than me because you discovered my secret.” He leans in close, grinning maniacally. “Little did you know, you hadn’t even scratched the surface of just how bad I am. All you cared about was a few little lies on my file. Bet you’re regretting it now, aren’t you?” He asks, and Y/N nods.

“Just play into his narcissism. Don’t fight him. Fight it, and we die.” She tells herself. Even though she knows she’s going to die anyway at this point. People like Nick don’t leave witnesses.

“But look where we are now, and how everything has changed. It all ends here, Y/N. And I win.” He laughs. “Oh, don’t worry, though. Steve’s coming to save you. He should be here soon, actually.” Immediately, Y/N’s heart rate increases. Steve’s coming? Here? Even though she knows it’s foolish, hope fills her body. She might actually be okay after all. Seeing the optimism on her face, Nick chuckles. “Yes. I knew it was no fun without him here, and besides, you’re both important to my endgame, so I left him a note telling him where we are. Not that I made things easy, though.” He sighs. “He really loves you, you know? It’s so…pitiful. He could’ve been so great, so evil, but he just had to let love get in the way.”

Y/N ignores Nick’s comments, too happy and comforted by Steve coming to save her. He does love her. They’re going to stop Nick, and then they’ll live happily together. Just like they deserve. And then, something hits her in the side. Y/N screams as more pain shoots across her body. Although the tape across her mouth muffles it, the sound is still loud, and Nick laughs. “Unfortunately, though, just because he’s coming to save you doesn’t mean that you two are getting out of here alive.” Another kick lands on her body, and another moan of pain follows from Y/N. “And it doesn’t mean that you have to be in a good condition for him either.” Another kick lands, and Y/N whimpers in pain, her body shaking. “God, I love that noise.” Nick grins. “Especially when it comes from you.”

A Few Days Earlier.

“You’re saying…what?” Y/N’s boss frowns incredulously.

“That there’s something shady going on with Nick Fowler.” The man who almost bumped into Nick replies. “He got a text, headed to the bathrooms and then shot out of here like a bat out of hell. I don’t know what it was about. It could be nothing, but given everything that’s been going on recently, he might have a lead and is holding out on us.”

Y/N’s boss sighs, massaging his temples with his finger. “I see. Thank you.” The man nods and leaves the room. “Fuck. Two missing agents, an escaped cannibal and now one agent might be dirty. That’s just what I need.”

After raining down a few more blows, Nick stands over Y/N, watching as she whimpers and writhes around in pain. Then, the muffled sound of a creaking door echoes across the building, and Y/N’s heart almost stops. “Okay Fowler, I’m here. I came alone, just like you said.” Steve calls. “Now, where is she?” Y/N almost starts crying. Steve. He’s here. Nick was right, he’s come to save her. Immediately, a look of dark excitement takes over Nick’s face. One that chills her blood. Disregarding the tape on her mouth, Y/N tries to scream a warning out to Steve, hoping he hears her. Nick harshly grabs her arm, yanking her up and holding her at his side. His tight grip on her arm makes Y/N cry out in pain.

“Now, now, there’s no need for that.” He tuts. “I’ll have to kill you both sooner than expected if you keep acting up. And I’ll kill you before you can say goodbye to your boyfriend properly. Do you want that?” He asks, and Y/N shakes her head, her tears and whimpering now just a sniffle. Nick grins. “Good girl. Just do as you’re told, and everything will be fine. For now.”

Nick opens the door and walks into the main room of the church. Y/N registers something, probably a knife, being held at her throat, and she tries to hide her tears, knowing that it’ll give Nick even more of a sick gratification. Mostly, though, it’s because she knows that the second Steve hears her cries, he’s going to hurt Nick. And whilst she wants him to save her more than anything, and she knows Steve is more than capable of handling himself, Y/N also knows that Nick is unpredictable, and he’s the one in control here. The last thing she wants is for Steve to end up dead.

Y/N and Nick round the corner, and come face to face with Steve. “Hello Steve. How nice of you to join us.” Nick smirks. Steve’s face drops.

“Nick. Let her go.” He orders, his voice the lowest and the most threatening Y/N has ever heard it. “This is between me and you. You can do whatever you want with me. Just don’t hurt Y/N. This has nothing to do with her.”

In response, Nick laughs. “Oh, look at you trying to play at being the hero like that’ll work. Like you’re not as much of a psycho as I am. What, you want me to let her go so she can run away and tell everyone the truth, and then I’ll have the whole of the FBI and CIA breathing down my back?” Nick shakes his head. “I don’t think so. And besides, Y/N has everything to do with this. After all, she’s the one who brought us all together!”

Y/N glances over at Steve. His face seethes with a rage she’s never seen from him before, and both his fists clench angrily. “You really have no idea who I am, do you, Steve?” Nick asks.

“An annoying piece of shit?” Nick laughs sardonically.

“Not that. When you first started out with your little…operation, do you remember hearing about the one at the top? The one everyone wanted to be, and the one everyone feared? You’re looking at him.” As a look of confusion dawns on Steve’s face, Nick grins. “Yup. Y/N’s little theory was right after all. Even down to the bite marks. I was you before you even existed, Steve.” He chuckles, before continuing. “We’re so alike, you and I. Except I don’t get caught, despite the attempts of both you and Y/N.” Steve looks back over at Y/N, an apologetic look on his face. Y/N nods, hoping he understands she forgives him for not believing him. “You were determined back then. I’ll give you that. But you were also a pest, who threatened my spot at the top. Just like your little girlfriend here.” Nick’s voice becomes angrier, and he steps forward, dragging Y/N with him.

“Nick, listen to me-” Steve tries to argue back, but Nick ignores him and continues his tirade.

“And that’s why you had to go. Just one call from a ‘concerned business partner’...and the problem went away.” The realisation strikes both Y/N and Steve immediately.

“That was you?!” Steve gasps. Nick nods.

“I’ve been working my whole fucking life to be at the top, and if you think I’m letting some nobody agent and failure like you take it away from me….” Nick hisses, laughing breathlessly. “Then you have another thing coming.” He looks between them both, his smile manic. The look he gives them both terrifies Y/N even more. She’s never seen him this unhinged before. “And that’s why we’re all here now. Because I have two problems that I need to solve.” As Nick grips Y/N’s body even tighter as she tries to squirm out of his grasp, she yelps in pain again.

“Nick, she was just doing her job. I’m the one you have the issue with. So again, let her go.” Steve orders. Nick huffs, shaking his head.

“How many times do I have to tell you-” He grunts angrily. However, Nick stops himself mid rant, and he regards Steve with a frown. “You know something, Steve? For how much you like to pretend that you’re the one in control, and that you’re the true monster…you really are so weak. You could’ve been great, like me. But you let yourself get clouded by love, and now you’re throwing everything away for her. Is that really what you want, Steve? To choose Y/N over all the fame and fortune?”

Y/N can see that Nick’s words are impacting Steve, as he takes time to choose his next response. As the time it takes Steve to reply increases, Y/N becomes more and more worried about what he’ll say. She knows he loves her, and he came back to save her, but what if she’s not enough anymore? What if he goes with Nick? After all, the first few times they interacted, Steve was arrogant, and he definitely enjoyed tormenting and manipulating her. When she challenged his character, he was furious with her. Of course, running a cannibalistic enterprise isn’t exactly Y/N’s idea of a dream life, but she can see why it would be so appealing to Steve, especially after being deprived of it for so long.

Suddenly, Steve speaks, cutting into Y/N’s worries. “You’re right. It would be nice to be at the top again, and to have all my notoriety and money back does sound appealing.” Steve admits. “But I can get that back later. I love Y/N, and I brought her here so we could finally be together, and so I could protect her from people like you. So I choose her.” Y/N breathes a sigh of relief, and Nick scoffs.

“Well, it’s your choice.” He shrugs. “Just as long as you remember, I kissed her first…and fucked her first, too.” Nick’s words set off Steve’s anger, and he charges forward, his fist held out for a punch. Before Steve can strike Nick, however, Nick presses the knife deeper into Y/N’s neck, and she lets out another cry. “I really wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Nick smirks, and Steve backs off. “Good boy. You know, when you two ran away, I was so angry. But now that we’re all together again, I can finally enact my new plan.”

“What are you going to do to us?” Steve asks. “Kill Y/N and take me back to prison? Because I swear to you, Fowler, I will fight and argue until my dying breath about what you are until someone listens.”

“Oh no, you’re both going to die. Make no mistake about that. I can’t have any loose ends, I’m afraid. And poor Y/N will be the first to go.” Nick removes the knife from her neck and begins tracing it down her cheek, laughing as she whimpers in fear. “You know, I really love that noise, don’t you, Steve?” Y/N’s eyes look over to Steve, watching as he seethes with rage. “And I’ll make sure you hear it all.” Nick promises. Y/N and Steve’s eyes meet once again.

“I’m sorry.” Steve mouths. Her eyes welling up again, Y/N nods. And then, an idea enters her mind. Gesturing her head towards Steve, Y/N then moves her head towards Nick slightly. She does it a few times until he realises what she means. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Steve nodding. Another, small breath of relief escapes Y/N’s lips.

Hopefully, this plan works.

“Poor Y/N, kidnapped and murdered so brutally by the cannibal who she thought loved her. Just don’t ask which cannibal it was, though.” Nick laughs, the sensation of his hot breath against Y/N’s neck making her squirm. “But not to worry, because Nick Fowler saved the day and killed him too. In self defence, of course. It’s just a shame he couldn’t save Y/N too. At least the heroic welcome will be worth it.” Nick grins.

Quickly, whilst Nick is distracted looking at Y/N, Steve rushes forward once more, tackling him to the ground. The force makes Nick release his grasp on Y/N, and the knife clatters to the floor. Immediately, Steve unleashes his anger on Nick. The pair roll around on the floor as the air is full of the sound of moans and punches. Y/N goes towards them to help Steve, even though there’s not much she can do with her hands tied. As soon as she takes a few steps forward, she falls to the floor. She doesn’t even take time to register the pain shooting throughout her legs, and instead begins crawling away from the scene and towards safety as best she can.

And then, something glinting on the floor stops her. The knife. Her and Steve’s chance out of here. Whilst Nick is still distracted, she grabs it, disappearing behind the pews. Holding it in her hands, she tries to cut through the ties binding her wrist, hissing every so often as the blade pricks her skin instead of the hard plastic. The sounds of fighting and moaning continue to fill the air, and Y/N doesn’t even want to know who’s making that noise anymore. She just wants to get Steve and get out of here as soon as possible.

Once she’s finally freed herself, Y/N peels off the tape covering her mouth, taking a few deep breaths as she’s finally able to breathe properly again. Grabbing the knife, she stands up. Although she’s still a little unsteady on her feet, Y/N stalks towards Nick and Steve, the knife held in her outstretched hand.

“Nick!” she calls, the sound of her voice causing both men to stop and look at her. Both of their faces are bloody and bruised, and Nick is still gripping Steve’s arm. “Let him go. Now.” She orders. Nick smirks.

“Y/N, it’s okay. I’m okay. You should just get out of here and let me deal with him.” Y/N stays where she is, promising not to leave him. Nick looks between them both, grinning as an idea forms in his head.

“You know, Steve, I’m surprised you’re fighting so hard for her. Because you know what’s going to happen when this is all over, right?” Nick asks. “Your one true love over there is going to call her superiors, and your ass is going to get hauled back into jail again for another life sentence. This time in a maximum security prison, with no visitors.” Steve stops, frowning. “What? Do you think she wouldn’t? Oh please, don’t be so naïve. It’s what people like Y/N do. They save the world from monsters like you and I, and then they lock us up and throw away the key. You’re no different just because she supposedly loves you.”

“No. You’re lying. She wouldn’t.” Steve shakes his head. Yet, despite Steve’s attempts to seem controlled, something in his facial expression shifts, causing Nick to smirk.

“Oh, are you sure about that? Go on then. Ask her. See how much she actually trusts you.”

“Steve, come on. He’s trying to manipulate you. It’s what he does.” Y/N argues. “I trust you. I promise.” Despite her insistence, Steve looks conflicted. Strangely, though, he seems more upset than angry at the idea of Y/N’s betrayal. And that look tears her up inside.

“Just tell me the truth. Are you going to put me back in prison? After everything we’ve gone through? After I came back for you, and I chose you?” Steve asks, his voice softer and on the verge of cracking. Y/N’ frowns, wondering why the hell Steve’s choosing to listen to Nick Fowler right now, especially considering the bullshit he’s saying. However, her silence speaks volumes to Steve, and he gasps angrily. Still, she sees a look of hurt crossing his face, which tears her up inside. “No. No, no, no. If you think I’m setting foot in that fucking prison again, you have another thing coming.” He hisses. Nick lets go of Steve’s arm, and he chuckles.

“You know, I wanted to kill you both first, but this is just so much more entertaining. Tearing the star-crossed lovers apart.” Steve’s fist clenches angrily, and he turns back around.

“You better-” But Y/N gets to him first. Without another word, she drops the knife, walks up and rams her elbow into Nick’s face. It connects with his nose with a sick crack, and he swears, hissing in pain. Then, Y/N brings her fist back once more, connecting it with the side of Nick’s head. He tries to fight back, clawing against her face, but Y/N’s fury is too much for him, and she continues to strike him. After a few more punches, Nick collapses to the floor.

“That shut him up for once.” Y/N states.

Meanwhile, back in the FBI H.Q, Nick's contact sits in an interview room. He watches as Y/N’s boss circles him. “Tell us what you told Nick Fowler.” The contact says nothing, looking at Y/N’s boss with a smirk. “Come on. We all know you’ve been speaking to each other. No phone is untraceable.” Still, the contact is silent. Huffing, Y/N’s boss pulls out a file. “Kid, you’re looking at multiple charges here. It's just…we’re all wondering what a prestigious agent like Nick is doing fraternising with someone who has a criminal record as long as yours.” The contact scoffs, finally breaking his silence.

“Prestigious? Is that what he told you? You don’t know anything about what he’s truly like.” Y/N’s boss frowns.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, I don’t think so! It doesn’t work like that. I’ll only tell my secrets if I get something out of it.”

“We planned for that. You’ll get a reduced sentence, but only if you tell us everything about your relationship to Nick Fowler.” The contact grins. “Do we have a deal?”

“I think we do.”

Meanwhile, Y/N and Steve watch as Nick sleeps, still out cold. “Okay, we should go while he’s knocked out.” Y/N orders. Yet, Steve doesn’t move. “Steve, what are you doing? Come on, let’s go!”

“Not before you tell me if you’re sending me to prison. Because I’m not leaving with you just so you can send me back there.” Huffing, Y/N rolls her eyes.

“Steve, do we really have to do this now? I don’t know what’s going to happen!” Despite her frustration though, Steve’s disbelief and distrust of her breaks her heart. Does he really think so little of her?

“Stop bullshitting me and just answer me!” Steve orders, the volume and tone of his voice making Y/N jump. “Am I going back to prison?” Y/N sighs.

“I don’t know! Probably! But it’s not like I’m going to have much of a choice, is it? They’re going to assume everything I say to save you is because I have Stockholm Syndrome or something.”

“So you’re not even going to fucking fight for me? Is that it?” Even though he’s still trying to put on a brave face, Y/N can tell there’s something more to it, and that Steve is more hurt than angry.

“I didn’t say that! What I did say, though, is that Nick’s just trying to manipulate you. Clearly, it’s working. Why are you listening to him anyway, after everything he’s done to us both?”

“Because!” Steve snaps. When he sees the look on Y/N’s face, his face falls, and he sighs sadly. “Because…I love you so much, and when I found out you were missing and Nick had you, it destroyed me. I’m supposed to protect you. It’s why I brought you here, after all. And I failed.” He dips his head for a moment, and Y/N swears she can hear a sniffle.

“Steve….”

“On the way over here, I was so worried that you were hurt. And well…you are.” He sighs. “And after our argument and your kidnap, I thought you stopped loving me. I know it sounds stupid, but the last thing I want to do is lose you and have you stop loving me.” He admits. Y/N’s face softens. How could he ever think that she’d stop loving him? She reaches out to touch Steve, but he flinches away. “So when Nick said you were going to turn me in, I thought it was true. But to be honest…a part of me thinks I deserve to spend the rest of my life in prison. Especially after everything I’ve done to you.” Steve scoffs. “God, so much for me being a scary monster, huh? Nick was right, after all. I am a weakling.”

“No, you’re not.” Y/N sighs. “You came to save me. That’s not weak.” Looking over at Steve’s heartbroken face, Y/N knows that there’s no way she’d ever let him go.

If only she could convince Steve of that.

“You know, though, I used to pride myself on being strong and scary. Especially when I first met you.” Y/N and Steve laugh, remembering the memory. “But somehow, as we grew closer, I think I stopped caring about not being scary. And even though I acted like it at first, I don’t want to hurt you either, or to chop you up. All I care about is you. You bring out the best parts of me, ones that I thought didn’t exist anymore. Or at all.” Steve sighs. “And if you turn me in, I don’t know what sort of person I’d be anymore.”

“Steve.” Y/N begins. “I promise you, I will not turn you in.”

“And why should I believe that?”

“Because I love you Steve!” Y/N sighs, tears stinging at her eyes again. “Fuck, I love you so much. I never stopped, even with this. These past few days with you have been the best time of my life, and I’m not ready for it to end yet. To be honest, I want to stay with you forever, and I’d follow you to the ends of the earth to make that happen.” Sniffling, she takes a breath. “But if you want to go, I understand. Go be free.” Saying those words feels like a knife is twisting in her gut, but she means every word. “Let me end this alone. I started this whole mess, and I’ll finish it.”

And yet, Steve doesn’t move. Although she’s so thankful he’s not running away and leaving her for good, his lack of movement still confuses her. Even after everything he said, she still thought he’d choose his freedom first. “Oh god, Y/N. I’m so sorry about everything. For not believing you right away, for the argument, for letting this happen to you….” Steve gasps suddenly, kissing her all over her face and body. “I love you so much.” He mumbles. And this time, Y/N believes him fully. “Y/N, you’re safe. You’re finally safe.” With those three words, everything hits Y/N at once. Yet, despite the chaos and danger of the moment, all she wants is to be held by Steve, to hold him in return, to be kissed by him, and kiss him all over. Because he came back for her, and he chose her. Immediately, Y/N falls into Steve’s arms, sobbing. He holds her tightly and protectively, and Y/N even swears she hears Steve crying too.

“I love you too.” She presses her lips to Steve, kissing him passionately. The pair stand there for a few moments, each savouring the embrace of the other. Because deep down, they know it could still be the last time they see each other.

“Y/N, go. Run as far away as you can and never look back.” Steve whispers. “I can’t let you put yourself in danger. Let me end this. You’ll be safe from us both, and you can finally live a normal life.” Y/N shakes her head.

“Normal? My life hasn’t ever been normal. And I told you. I’m the one that brought us into this mess, and I’m going to help you finish it.” Steve tries to argue with her, but Y/N is staunch in her decision. “I’m not leaving you.” She takes his hand, squeezing it tightly. “And besides, we’re too intertwined with this care to separate now. We met trying to solve this case, and now we’ll end it together.” Knowing it’s foolish to argue with her any longer, Steve nods, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“God, I love you.” As Nick stirs, Steve squeezes Y/N’s hand. “Ready?” He asks, and she nods. “Then let’s go stop a serial killer.”

As Nick wakes up, the pain hits him. Along with the sensation of blood trickling from his nose. “Fuck.” He hisses, standing up. Y/N and Steve stand across from him, watching his every move. Steve protectively stands in front of Y/N, shielding her with his body. Nick scoffs. “Aww, you two think you can stop me. How sweet.” He mocks. “I’d advise you both to just quit whilst you’re ahead, because this little plan of yours is not going to work.” Neither of them move. “Alright. It’s your funeral.” Nick shrugs. “Let’s start with the girl who started it all.”

“No.” Steve orders. “You start with me. And I’ve been waiting for this one.” He charges forward again, punching Nick right in the face. As the pair start fighting again, Y/N grabs a discarded piece of wood, slamming it into the side of Nick’s head. The hit stuns him for a moment, and she hopes it gives Steve an advantage. Unfortunately, Nick doesn’t go down as she hoped. Instead, he turns his attention to her.

“You fucking bitch.” Nick hisses. Letting go of Steve, he grabs Y/N and throws her against the wall. Y/N immediately and harshly jabs her fist into Nick’s chest, pushing him back. When he frowns, she chuckles.

“Did you forget I did self defence in the FBI?” Instead, Nick laughs.

“No. Did you forget I did it in the CIA too?” He readies himself to strike her again, but Y/N is too quick for him. She shoves him back again, so hard that he stumbles.

“I told you I wanted to solve this case, and I am going to. Dead or alive.” She hisses. Nick tries to strike her again, but she dodges his blows once more, even striking him a few times. Whilst Nick is distracted, Steve hits him again. With a huff, Nick shoves Steve so harshly that he falls back, hitting his head against a pew and landing on the floor with a sick thud. He doesn’t get back up. Immediately, Y/N stops fighting Nick.

“Steve!” She screams, feeling her heart almost stop. She runs towards him, but Nick’s voice sounds from behind her.

“Well, that was underwhelming.” Nick sighs. “Your turn, Y/N.” Nick grabs her leg before she can reach Steve, and he pulls her down. She hits the ground hard, but doesn’t even have time to register the pain before Nick is on top of her. He kneels on her chest to stop her from moving and to cut off her airway, grinning terrifyingly as she gasps for air. Y/N kicks at him with all her might, trying to push him off of her. It doesn’t work, yet she still continues to strain, clawing at Nick’s hands and head, hoping he lets go.

“Get…off me!” She gasps, even though she can feel herself becoming more and more tired. Y/N glances back at Steve, still lying on the floor, unresponsive. She keeps staring at him, hoping that somehow, if she keeps looking at him for long enough, he’ll wake up. “Please….” She whimpers. Even though, deep down, she knows it won’t work.

“He can’t save you this time. It’s just me and you.” Nick grins, peering down at her. “I have to commend you though Y/N. You really are a fighter, much more than my other victims. It’s just a shame you have to die.”

“Go to hell.” Y/N hisses. She still tries to fight back, but it’s becoming more and more difficult to breathe. She reaches her hand out, hoping to grab something, anything, to stop him. But there’s nothing. Even the piece of wood she used is too far for her to grab. A horrible realisation dawns. She’s going to die. This is when it all ends. Nick smirks.

“Is that the best you can do?” He presses his knee deeper into her chest, and Y/N lets out a moan of pain. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees what looks like a small flicker of movement from Steve. Yet, as Nick continues to press down on her chest and small black dots appear in her vision, Y/N swears the movement from Steve was just a hallucination. Something her mind is letting her see before she dies. Still though, Y/N looks over at Steve. Just in case there’s a chance he might save her after all. Yet there’s no other movement, and her heart sinks.

So this is when she dies.

“How does it feel, Y/N?” Nick asks. “To know that I’ll always be your one failure, the one you couldn’t catch? To know that I’ll win?” Y/N can’t even find the strength to say anything. Seeing her slowly slipping away, Nick grins. He leans over, reaching out for his knife. As he does so, he moves his knee from her chest slightly. It’s only a slight movement, but it means that Y/N can finally get some more breath. As her lungs fill, a sense of injustice and a survival instinct kick in too. This isn’t how she wants to die, without even doing everything she wanted to with Steve. It’s not fair. She shoves Nick once more, enough to knock him back slightly, and he releases his grasp on her. Her sudden strength clearly surprises them both, but there’s no time to think about that now.

It’s time to survive.

Y/N scrambles to her feet, trying to run towards Steve and to safety. But Nick is too fast for her. He grabs her and slams her against the wall once more.

“Why are you being so difficult?” Nick hisses. He holds out the knife, the metal of it glinting in the light. “Now, stay still. It’ll all be over soon.” Nick grins. He thrusts his arm out towards her. Quickly, and without a second thought, Y/N grabs his wrist, pulling the knife away from her chest. His hit stabs her in the side, but the adrenaline and shock she’s under means she doesn’t feel it right away Even though he’s glad to have hit her, Nick’s still clearly shocked by her strength…as is Y/N. Yet, Nick readies the knife for another blow. “You know, I really am sorry Y/N. There’s just no other way for this to end.” Nick sighs. As he reaches out to stab her again, Y/N grabs his wrist once more. Despite the growing pain at her side, she turns Nick’s wrist, shoving the knife into his abdomen. A sickening noise sounds, and Nick groans in pain. He grips her shoulder tightly, trying to hold himself up. Y/N leans in close.

“Yes, there is.” She hisses. “And this time, I win.”

“You…fucking bitch.” Nick hisses. Y/N pulls out the knife, and blood pours out of the wound as Nick drops to the floor. As his breath becomes more and more strained, he looks up at her, chuckling slightly. “I was right after all…you do have some darkness in you.” And then he slumps forward, and finally goes silent. Y/N stares down at his body, waiting for him to get up and attack her again. The longer time goes on with no movement from Nick, the more Y/N realises that he’s not getting up.

“Oh god. Shit, oh god. Fuck. Oh god.” She mumbles to herself, panicked. “What did I just do?!” she gasps, feeling her body shaking and her heartbeat rising. Immediately, Y/N drops the knife. Blood stains her hands, and she has no idea who it belongs to.

“Y/N!” Steve is at her side in seconds. The happiness of having him okay and by her side again doesn’t even register, as she’s too panicked to think about anything else than what she’s done.

She’s killed Nick Fowler.

She’s a murderer and a monster, just like everyone used to say about her.

“I think I killed him, Steve.” She sobs. Steve takes her into his arms again, gently rocking her and shushing her as she cries.

“You did the right thing. It’s okay. It’s okay.” He repeats, kissing her all over. “You saved us both, and all those women. You did it. My beautiful Y/N.” He soothes. As she cries, he continues to calm her down. “It had to be done. You stopped him all by yourself. It’s finally over. You’re safe.” At that moment, the shock and adrenaline wear off, and the full extent of the pain in Y/N’s side finally hits her. Wincing, she drops to her knees, Steve falling with her. “Y/N? What happened? Are you okay?”

“He…he stabbed me. In my side.” She hisses through gritted teeth. Immediately, Steve presses his hand to her side. “How’s it looking, doc?” Y/N chuckles, immediately regretting it as it shoots further pain up her body. As he removes his hand, Steve is silent, and Y/N can see a deep crimson covering it. The sight makes her gulp. “Oh. Not good then.”

“Come on Y/N, we need to get you to a hospital.” Steve insists, trying to help her up. Y/N shakes her head.

“No. No, no hospitals. They’re going to take you away from me…and send you back.” Steve sniffles.

“Y/N, if you don’t go, then you’re going to die. I’ve almost lost you before, and I’m not losing you again. I don’t care what happens to me anymore. I want you to be safe.”

“But I care about you.” She insists. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.” She promises, even though she can still feel blood pouring out of her, despite Steve’s attempts to stop it. Y/N can hear the faint sound of sirens in the distance, and she raises her hand to cup Steve’s cheek, wiping away the tears slowly running down his face. “If you don’t go, I’m going to lose you forever. Go. Be free.”

“And what’ll happen to you?”

“I don’t know, but I do know that it’ll be better than what’s going to happen to you.” As the sirens get closer, Y/N’s worry for Steve gets stronger. “Go. Quickly. I’ll come find you.” Yet still, Steve doesn’t move. “Steve! Go! Please!” she begs. Sighing, Steve presses a kiss to Y/N’s lips, one full of passion and pain.

“I love you so much. Never forget that, okay?” Y/N nods, and Steve smiles.

And then, he’s gone.

A/N: I am still continuing this story, so don’t worry. This is not the end! The next chapter is going to be a final epilogue style chapter.

TAGLIST: @buckysboobs, @sebastianstansqueen, @lavendercitizen, @amanda-says, @enchantedbarnes, @eclecticpatrolroadlawyer, @kristophalis, babebr, @nerdypinupcrystal, @marve2014, @sgt-seabass, @themightyloki, @hallecarey1, @phoebethenarwhal, @lxdyred, @potato-with-hair, @chernayawidow, @gabewerk, @snugglingbucky, @late-to-the-party-81, @abbieff, @shadow-dragonz, @fandomblogs-stuff, @hallecarey1, @rach2602, @littlemissthistle, @booksandbenbarnes, @engie115

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makima-s-most-smile · 11 months

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Trigun Ultimate 1 (Part1)

With much delay, I can finally join the bookclub with my meagre thoughts and comments. I just try to say stuff that I haven’t seen, I think.

Chapter 1: The $$ 60 Billion Double Dollar Man

I thought the city in the establishing story was a small one, like in all those westerns of my youth. Few houses, one mainstreet, that kind of city. But with those numbers of daily casualties (), it has to be a bigger one. Damn, that totally did not register when I read it the first time!

I love how subtly Vash moves. I didn’t see in the first readthrough that he puts his finger into the barrel. And all the while his opponents are boasting, he is taking control of the situation! Nice!

Me, when I see all the Trigun theories!

With the knowledge that they are in April and thus in one of the main cities, the whole number of dead plants makes so much more sense.

Also, how bad are the conditions that they don’t have access to a resident doctor in one of the big cities?! It looks like that woman’s personal plight, but then the waitress lady chimes in with the plants, so the whole city seems to be dying?

I still hc that Vash is in April specifically to avoid another maintenance bug taking more of his sisters. For the humans, but also for the sisters on their own.

Chapter 3: Hard Puncher

Thank you, Speedwaggon, for your explanation…

Look! Glasses! He puts them on! Squeeeee!

Again, this is the entire April city. Not gonna lie, I read somewhere that like 20? Million people survived the Great Fall. Somehow I don’t believe that, if that tiny city is one of the big ones. But then again, this is Nightow still finding his vibe.

Chapter 04: Bang!Bang!

I love how mindful and in the present Milly is!

Sadly, she never really gets her win. No wonder many people think of her as just a silly airhead, when her mindfulness gets immediately countered by a joke.

Someone needs to calculate by those examples how much a donut costs and then how much a bullet does.

Chapter 05: Assault

A riverbed? There were rivers in the past? It would make sense, since worms and thoma are native to the planet and water is needed to start life. But damn, did No-Man’s-Land lose water by twin sun sunstorms?

Chapter 6: Diehards

Somehow I feel like the speech bubbles should be pointing to the other, with Kaite being the one who knows the ins and outs of the ship.

Chapter 07: Rem

Dude’s living partly in a fantasy world… Neon being fully like: It's like in the novels!

Well, Vash, buddy. You could explain Kaite afterwards, why you are so weird, but we already know that you won’t stay to explain!

Not the first time people mention Vash's arm. Totally not becoming important later.

Here he’s an adult or at least a teen, not like a kid as shown later. Could it be that he still feels like the time he lost Rem and only his body aged? His mind is still trapped in that moment.

Kaite lost his dad and fell on hard times. This will not be the last time that we see kids’ desperation exploited in the manga. It is also an interesting mirror to Vash with how he connects to Rem. We know at that point that she was there when the ships fell and died then, too, and that she rescued humanity. And that Vash made a promise with her (more like with himself… but in her memory). Her memory leads his actions, while Kaite’s negative memory of his father led his. Though we see the kid reflect upon them and it more or less boils down to him feeling neglected and left alone for his father’s work and then… well, truly left alone. This is his turning point.

Vash is not wrong with telling Kaite to start anew and all, but that also blatantly ignores how much that kid went through and it has a very optimistic view of the future, maybe even naive. But that is the basis on which Vash is able to move on. It also reflects on Rem, but that is something for later.

What I think is interesting, Vash does not look happy or forgiving in the panel, it looks serious, too serious, too burdened for the thing he just said. It is not uplifting at all…

08: Duelist

Hello, Stormtroopers! How do they even miss his nether regions? Vash just stands there, legs spread apart and they miss everything!

A…hahahahahaha. He doesn’t seem to be, does he?

Lol, Milly gave herself the nickname?!

Okay, but this is massively cool!

Oh, so Neon was actively looking for Vash to hunt him down for killing his family? And then he lets him just go. Like I said, this guy is not really living in reality. A fucking romantic!

#trigunbookclub #trigun bookclub #Trigun Ultimate Part 1.1 #Trigun rant

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kiltongrammarwriter94 · 3 days

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That exact thought crossed my mind when realising how close they were to each other all this time. So close yet so far. Literally heart aching to realise Rachel heard her daughters voices change from tiny high pitched laughter to teenage giggles, and then for them to disappear altogether when they stopped playing there. I imagine her wondering what Bel looked like, how she grew up to be, if she was happy and well taken care of (because imagine that fear and stress of hers that her husband is treating their daughter just as horribly), what her hobbies are etc, all while probably wanting to scream to her little girl that she’s right there. And then I’m thinking of Rachel clutching that baby sock for years on end?? Don’t think of her looking for Carter’s matching birth records everywhere in the hopes that she’ll find her youngest, then knowing exactly who Carter is the second the two lock eyes in that hallway. To have to pretend everything is fine during that entire dinner and the weeks after. Also…the pure willpower to not run to Bel the second she escaped, knowing she has to wait to do it the right way!!! Torture of the soul. Can you hear my heart shatter? To think of the torture Rachel went through and all the things she had to miss… it will never not tear me apart. Rachel is the strongest. Looks like Bel and Carter take after their mother 🤍

x 💌

The way you continue to amaze me…..I literally love everything about this…😭 I had the exact same thought when it came to Rachel looking at photo albums of the years past except mine was a old camera, mostly because of that book cover version with the cracked camera. I’ve been working on the longer bel fic and it is honestly angsty, but with the light under the tunnel sort of feeling. It’s going to be long and explore a lot of concepts. Specifically about Charlie because bel not telling her mother about storyland and the Taco Bell woman was a crime. I need some more mama bear Rachel. Reader going into a relationship with bel and knowing she operates a little differently because of her childhood, constantly reassuring her about her love for bel, finding out everything because bel one day has a panic attack because she think she saw Charlie on the street. Reader holding onto bel fast and tight because poor think is shaking and crying. The tears can’t stop because she’s held it in for so long. Bel clinging to reader because reader brings a sense of normality. Bel slowly losing herself to her father again by letting him take over her mind, she hates him with every fiber of her being, will continue to the end of her days. But still she thinks about the fact that she was a baby when all this happened. How she didn’t have a say, how Charlie made her believe her mother left her. Rachel seeing the impact on her daughter and suggesting they all do therapy . Family therapy. Although Rachel is smart and clever and knows what to say, rehearses it just in case. I really let my mind go wild on this one. Hope you enjoyed it 💌 🫶😭 (this one is extra angsty but bel always thinking that reader will break up with her for someone else because she’s still got that little girl in her who fears abandonment….so reader one day buying her a promise ring and getting matching sets as a gesture for her. Because words can help but actions speak louder) Rachel trying to help bel realize that reader loves her and to give in to the feeling wholly.. ok I’m done. 😭

#bel literally love your character girl #the reappearance of rachel price #💌 anon #angsty trorp thoughts

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keyofjetwolf · 2 years

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A wild and lovely Doc appears in the desk pics!

I agree with half of this!

As you can see, she's thoroughly enjoying today's content, as selected by you, her loving audience!

#JW watches PGSM #pgsm ep 20 #from the law offices of wolf and gay #you will believe a woman can lose her entire tiny mind

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reids-rendering-reality · 3 years

Text

Guys My Age

Summary: Y/N is the newest addition to the BAU team and Spencer appears to have taken a special liking towards her. The only problem is, he thinks he’s too old for her. However, that’s all about to change when they share a hotel room.

(A/N: I’m such a sucker for the hotel room trope so I combined it with two of my other favourite ideas: Spencer being older than the reader and catching her doing yoga)

Type: fluff + a sexual innuendo or two

Warnings: dirty thoughts, insecurity about age, age gap, anxiety, yoga?

Word Count: 2.1K

Spencer Reid’s POV

I pulled the handle of my satchel over my shoulder as I sighed. It was a very long day in a small rural town somewhere deep in Alabama. Everyone else had gone back to their hotel room, besides Hotch and I. There was just something about this case I couldn’t get out of my mind. The feeling of being so close to the final piece of the puzzle, as if it were on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t grip it. Yet I had to let it go for the night and get some rest. The much needed REM sleep could give me an entirely new perspective on this problem to me tomorrow. At least that’s what I hoped.

On the walk to the hotel room I was getting increasingly nervous, the more rooms I passed in the hallway. This small hotel did not have enough rooms to accommodate the whole team separately. They only had four rooms for the seven of us. JJ and Emily had immediately paired up, just like Rossi and Morgan. And Hotch being the team leader took the single room. Leaving me with our newest and youngest member, Y/N.

It’s not like I didn’t like her. That’s not what it was at all. Just, she made me a little bit nervous. She was so beautiful that sometimes I couldn’t get out any words around her. And that says a lot because I always have something to say. But as cheesy as it sounds, in some moments there is not a single fact that I can recall.

But the elephant in the room demands to be heard. She is younger than I am. And that by a lot. By exactly ten years and three months. That appears to be a lot. I don’t really know why, but that bothers me. We are both adults, but because of social conventions at our age, I feel as though it is inappropriate. Yet if I were 60 and she were 50 or I was 80 and she was 70, no one would even blink at the gap. Yet because we are young it matters. I feel sad when I think about it because I like her a lot. And when we talk I don’t notice the age gap. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that it wasn’t even there at all.

What surprised me as I was having these thoughts and neared the room was the fact that I actually considered asking her out. Since Maeve I have not been on a single date. And who said she would even be interested in anything beyond a casual friendship or even colleagueship with me? That’s not even considering the amount of courage it would require for me to tell her. But it’s not like that would be a fruitful endeavour.

And that was the last thought I had before I reached the door to room 179. A prime number. Prime numbers would be my lucky numbers if there were such a thing.

As I rummaged around my pockets and satchel for the key card I noticed the sound of music coming through the door.

“Gotta thank him he’s the reason

That I’ll find what I’m looking for.”

I heard a woman sing over the sound of an electric guitar. I still hadn’t found my key card.

“Guys my age don't know how to treat me

Don't know how to treat me.”

My movements stopped when my brain registered the lyrics. Guys my age…?

“Guys my age don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good.”

My breath hitched and I gulped, key card in hand. Did she mean that? Could it be possible that she would be interested in someone ten years older than her? The feeling of hope was beginning to form in my brain, scenarios of what could be clouding my vision. But they were quickly pushed aside by a dark storm of self-doubt. Because most people don’t listen to lyrics as closely. The lyrics to a song don’t mean anything to them. Did they mean anything to her?

I realised I had been standing in front of the door for way too long and gathered all my confidence to go inside. But nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. After closing the door behind me and tucking away the key card into my bag I turned around for the first time.

There she was. In the middle of the room in front of the two twin beds on a yoga mat. Her front leg was bent as she stretched her back. She was only dressed in skin tight pants and a matching bra that complimented the way her body was contorted. The soft light from the night lamp next to one of the beds made her skin glisten just noticeably as if it were glowing. I could feel my eyes widen as I my brain finally added up the pieces of what I was seeing.

“Oh, hi Spence!” she said gleefully turning her head towards mine, “I was feeling a little tense after sitting in that conference room all day. I hope you don’t mind.”

I didn’t even bother to attempt to talk, I could feel how dry my throat was and how my lips would not listen to any command I would’ve given it. So I just shook my head and pulled my eyes away from her as she moved her upper body towards the floor, holding herself up by her ellbows. I walked towards the beds in her general direction trying not to notice how gorgeous her ass looked now that her body was turned away from me. That I even had that thought surprised me and caused a blush to rise to my cheeks. I was thankful that she couldn’t see my face in that moment as I loosened up my tie. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, my attention drifted back to the song.

“Don't know how to love me good

So I'm never going back”

There was nothing in that moment that could keep me sane. My wildest dreams could have not come up with this scenario. It felt utterly unreal.

As the song ended I saw her change positions again from my peripheral vision.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” she said while turning the music down.

I noticed panic begin to fill my brain. She wanted to have a conversation.

“I um- it’s been kind of a long day,” I said and cleared my throat, while deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to turn around towards her.

“Have you been at the station the whole time? You must be exhausted,” she responded and continued when I didn’t answer, “I thought you could show me that show you’ve been gushing about.”

How was this real life? My brain began to lose control of my executive functions as my body turned around to face her. She was now sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, her hands wrapped around her feet as she looked up at me. The low-cut top she was wearing gave me a perfect sight into the curves of her-

I dared not continue that line of thought, already flustered enough as it is.

“Really? You’d be interested in watching that?” I said and blinked.

Her lips spread into a smile, twinkling her eyes, “Yeah, of course. The way you described it makes me really curious.”

“We could watch an episode or two before going to sleep, if you want.”

I just had to take this chance. Even if I could only begin to have a friendship with her, I wanted to be close to her because for some odd reason, I couldn’t bear to admire her from afar.

So not long after, I was setting up the odd hotel room tv to watch the show. It took me the entirety of her taking a shower so that I was only standing back up when she was walking out of the small bathroom in a white bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. She smiled up at me as she walked past me, her hand brushing my arm so casually that I questioned whether it actually happened.

I hesitated again before sitting down on the bed. Was she going to get dressed in front of me? Because no matter how much my amygdala wanted me to see that, my frontal cortex wasn’t going to allow it. I forced myself to look through my satchel in an attempt to find a distraction as I waited for her next move. But luckily, she didn’t tempt my brain too much into overdrive.

I felt as if there was a higher power not willing to spare me for the night when she came out of the bathroom a second time, now something someone might call dressed. She was in a loose light coloured satin pyjama set that showed off her legs perfectly. And as if that were not enough to torture me for the night, she joined me on my twin bed with her bag of chips.

“I hope that’s okay with you, then we can share snacks,” she said so innocently that I almost believed it. But I could still hear the song ringing in my ears and I noticed her eyes take a short glance down at my lips as she said it. I was almost convinced that I wasn’t imagining things.

What really sealed the deal was that I noticed her scoot a tiny bit closer to me every once in a while. At first I could only feel the warmth she radiated, but after about 30 minutes I felt the bare skin of her arm against mine. My breath quickened, which I was sure she had noticed.

I knew the episode off by heart. Which was to my advantage because then my brain could run in a speed that I could barely follow. I tried my hardest to calm down a little bit, which was hard when I could feel the movement of her body as a whole-hearted laugh filled her throat.

“Y/N,” I whispered with all my courage. It was so low that I almost thought she wouldn’t hear it, but she turned her head towards me her eyes following a few seconds after.

Her eyes met mine and it was like I could feel my neurons firing electrical signals throughout my entire body. And just like that, in one swift movement she had grabbed my face by the back of my head and pulled me into her lips.

That was the first time that night that my muscles began to relax as I eased into the sensation of her soft lips moving against mine. It was as though I was beginning to lose myself in the kiss, all insecurities about her feelings towards me or my inexperience gone.

When she ultimately pulled away and rested her forehead against mine, we were both panting gently. My whole body felt warm with the feeling of her breath on my skin and her hands still in my hair. I didn’t dare open my eyes, still afraid that I would wake up from this idyllical dream.

We both didn’t know what to say as we pulled away further and looked at each other. I wanted to say something, to let her know how I felt, but once again, my brain did not follow my commands.

“Did you know when you kiss someone for the first time it causes your dopamine levels to increase for a short period of time? It also makes your heart rate and the oxygen supply to your brain to raise,” I heard my voice say in something between a whisper and my normal talking voice.

“For the first time, huh?” she grinned a little at me.

I reached for her hand and gently took it in mine. I moved her palm over my shirt to the centre of my chest. I could feel my heart race through her hands and I know she could feel it too. She looked up into my eyes again with a look on her face that told me all I needed to know.

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journey-to-the-attic · 2 years

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Something I've been thinking about since you dropped the characters height chart, how do you think the brothers (and side characters if you want) would react if Ik magically turned in to a younger kid( i am also weak for this trope) Like 4 or 5 years old, can you imagine their reaction that their little human friend is even littler.

anon i think you may be reading my mind because this is EXACTLY the setup i have planned for a future post-jtta bonus oneshot

but!! just because i also love this trope so much, i'll do some notes on a hypothetical version of this trope without the childhood trauma that's going to come up in the actual bonus ^^

right so first we'll lay out a few guidelines for this whole situation:

ik is the size of a five year old and basically has the mindset and emotional maturity of one, BUT she isn't the same way she was when SHE was five years old

so it's like a five year old ik who still has the emotional growth of our regular ik

(this is all post jtta by the way)

thus, she actually acts like a silly kid who just wants to have fun and is very affectionate with the people she loves (i.e. her demon family), and not like a really old world-weary woman in a child's body

and let's say the child situation lasts for about two and a half weeks

okay so! reactions!!

i'll just do the brothers for now but i might do the side characters in future ^^

okay so first things first mammon is losing his mind

he's just such a STAR of a big brother this entire time. he denies it but he absolutely is, he just cares so much about this tiny human under his wing

he disappears into town for a few hours and comes back with a bunch of toys and stuff

and he WILL sit there and play make-believe with ik and all their new plushies (+alatus) for as long as she wants to

he gets her this giant dragon plush that she can sit on and pretend to fly on, and he's perfectly happy to pretend to be a civilian in need of rescue from the hero on the dragon

(ik falls asleep on it at one point and falls off and mammon moves at like 999999mph to catch her before she lands on the floor)

and then first time mammon picks ik up he's just like [heart attack] HRNG

she's clinging to his sleeve to make sure she doesn't slip and he just. JDHKJHJH HER HAND'S SO TINY HE'S GONNA CRY

that settles it he's protecting this child with his life and if anything happens he's going to blow up the entire devildom

(not like he wasn't already like that lmao)

beel, meanwhile, is kinda scared of accidentally crushing ik, but his big brother instincts outweigh the elephant-scared-of-mice instincts, so instead he just makes sure he exercises extra caution around her

he spends a lot of time fussing about how little ik's eating and constantly piling snacks on her, which she can barely finish because five-year-olds don't exactly have much room for food

ik isn't scared of beel at all because she knows she's safe with him, even if he's worried she's not - even though he's GIANT, he's shaped like a friend :)

every now and then she creeps up on him and just starts clinging to his leg, and beel doesn't notice half the time because she's so light

he'll be walking along and hear some quiet giggling close by, then look down and realise that he's been unwittingly dragging ik around the house for the last few minutes

usually he just goes to pick her up when he notices this, and he'll just stand there and let ik scramble about on his shoulders/arms/head like some kind of jungle gym

five-year-old ik also has a lot more energy, but it comes in very short bursts

one minute she's vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass, the next she's out like a light

ik usually uses the bursts of energy to, like, hyper focus on this one thing and get really really into it - but then after she gets tired and takes a nap or something, she'll be totally disinterested once she's up again

for example:

she comes into levi's room while he's gaming, so he puts in one of those cutesy cartoon games for them to play

it's got two sets of controls: the parent controls, and the kid controls

(he doesn't even know why he has this game, he just does)

so levi takes the parental controls and teaches ik the ropes

it's just a bunch of really simple puzzles, but ik LOVES IT

she's getting so excited over all the bright colours and funny sounds that she's just silently bouncing about like a little basketball

levi puts up with it because it's kinda cute and also ik doesn't even seem to notice she's doing it, so he'd feel bad for trying to get her to stop

eventually she just kind of. goes quiet. and then announces that she's done playing

levi is a bit more disappointed than he'd like to admit, but he just shrugs and switches back to the game he was playing before

ik watches him for a bit, then wanders off

she barely makes it twenty steps out of levi's room before she just gets too tired to keep going, so she curls up right there in the hallway and goes straight to sleep

belphie nearly trips over her on his way back from the bathroom, and like there's no way he's just gonna leave her there

so he takes her down to the common room, where he swaddles her in a blanket like a burrito and then settles down nearby to take a nice nap of his own

at some point during ik's nap, she wakes up, sees belphie, and decides to drag herself over and go back to sleep on his back (because he's sleeping face-first on the couch)

belphie barely even stirs, but subconsciously he must have noticed it because he doesn't toss or turn nearly as much as he usually does when he naps - so that ik doesn't get tossed off his back

beel comes in, takes in this scene, and dies on the spot because it's the cutest thing he's ever SEEN

(he takes a picture and it ends up being his D.D.D. lock screen for the foreseeable future)

after this little incident, belphie starts hanging about with an extra blanket and pillow for when ik falls asleep - because she consistently does so nearly time she uses up her little burst of manic child energy

and somehow belphie can kinda ~feel it~ whenever she conks out

speaking of ~feeling it~, lucifer ends up developing one heck of a 'THE CHILD IS IN DANGER' sense

he'll suddenly get this ominous feeling in the middle of the paperwork, and rush from his office to the kitchen just in time to stop ik from burning herself while attempting to use the kettle

oh and if you thought lucifer was a dad before, you ain't seen NOTHING yet

he makes ik sandwiches and instinctively cuts off the crusts every time, even though ik's fine with eating them

he puts her to bed at eight o clock sharp and WILL read her a bedtime story if she even implies she'd like one

he starts doing that thing where he walks into a room where a movie is on, and just stands there with his hands on his hips, watching in silence for a good half an hour

satan notices all of this and thinks it's hilarious, but also very valid

he's another one that'll read to ik, especially while she's coming down from an energy high and getting tired again

if he reads for long enough she'll like sleepily crawl into his lap, then slowly doze off there

and he just goes [nuclear explosion] on the inside bc HFKDJHGKSDJHG

(she does this at least once with each of the other brothers as well, and they all have similar internal reactions)

ik also does that child thing where she starts asking increasingly nonsensical questions

like "would a polar bear or a rhino win in a fight?" "can cows swim?" "why do you only have two legs? wouldn't three be better?"

and satan takes all of these questions extremely seriously

he gets out a whiteboard and starts drawing spider diagrams and everything

ik gets bored of this quickly, though, so soon enough he starts just doodling a whole ass cartoon strip and telling ik this little story about a cat who goes on adventure and she loves every minute of it

she keeps giving suggestions like "make him make friends with the monster!!" or "make him fly!" or "give him a REALLY REALLY big hat" and satan complies with every single one

even after all this is over everyone collectively decides never to erase this whiteboard, they just leave it hanging up in the common room. satan even signs it

okay that's enough about satan, let's talk about asmo

he's literally in TEARS over how teeny ik is

she comes up to him and asks him to paint her nails - very politely in that earnest kid kind of way - and asmo just about passes away on the spot

of course he agrees, and then ik holds out her hand for it to be painted and asmo just stares at it and how SMALL it is compared to his hand for like two minutes straight. he's about to cry hold on hold on hold o

at some point after this he's like WHOO YEAH TIME TO PLAY DRESS UP

so he gets so much cute little stuff for ik to try on, and for a bit he's having so much fun doing her hair and stuff to go with each outfit

but then he notices that ik herself doesn't seem to be having a great time

she looks really uncomfy in some of the outfits, actually....

at this point asmo realises that ik's having hella sensory issues with how a good deal of the outfits feel - like itchy lace, seams that kind of dig into her skin, too many things at once that make her overheat, etc.

y'know that little strip of fabric in the toe of the sock and how sometimes when you feel it it just makes you go EUGH NO. it's like that for ik but constant with nearly all of the stuff asmo's been putting her in

she's just been silent about it because she didn't want to upset him by throwing a tantrum or something

when he figures this out asmo's just like BBY NO NEVER LET ME PUT YOU IN CLOTHES YOU AREN'T COMFY IN

from then onwards he's very picky about what, if any, new outfits he gets ik to put on

she seems happiest and most comfy in a wide range of cosy onesies, but she's also fine with wearing something like this:

annnnd on that little image, i'll close out these notes!! i wrote way more than i was planning to, whoops ^^;

#answering asks #anon asks #jtta bonuses #jtta ik #journey to the attic #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #i kid you not

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 3 years

Text

Coffee Shop Kisses

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Request: something soft with Yelena from @bright-molina

Summary: After moving back to her small Ohio hometown, the reader bumps into an old friend at her favorite coffee shop.

Warnings: none ?

A/N: Happy incredibly belated Birthday Bianca!!! Sorry this took so long for me to write but I really hope you like it!! This fic has everything: the gays, some light pinning, and chai lattes !

Masterlist

___

You couldn’t believe you were back in your small Ohio hometown. When you moved away after high school it was never your intention to come back but clearly, fate didn’t have the same plans as you drove through your childhood neighborhood.

It was nostalgic, driving through the familiar streets despite the changes in the neighborhood since your childhood. While the houses had mostly remained the same, you knew many of their occupants had changed. The Browns no longer lived in the house two doors down from yours, having retired to Florida not long after their children had moved out, and many other family’s you’d known growing up had followed suit. Others had downsized to smaller houses in other parts of the city, no longer needing the extra space. Now the neighborhood was filled with new families, young parents taking advantage of the location to raise their children.

Still, the atmosphere was largely the same, and if you let yourself you could almost imagine that the kids playing in the front yards and the street or biking through the neighborhood, calling out to friends as they passed, were the kids you’d grown up with.

It was strange, being back home. It felt stranger still to call it “home.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall back into a routine, despite the lingering nostalgia. You woke up every morning with just enough time to get ready and drive downtown to work, if you were lucky you’d end up with a few extra minutes to stop into your favorite coffee shop from your teenage years, which was conveniently located a couple doors down from your office. It was simple, sure, but it worked for you.

On the weekends you always made a point to walk to that downtown coffee shop with a book or some other activity, preferring the ambiance and the subtle noise of the building and its other patrons over the still silence of your house. Plus they had amazing drinks so you really couldn’t lose.

Normally you enjoyed taking in the hustle and bustle of the small town around you as people completed their weekly errands, but that day you were lost in your head as you walked along the sidewalk. It wasn’t as if you were thinking about anything in particular (when reflecting back later you’d merely blame it on having had a long week at work), but rather than enjoy the people watching as you normally would, you let them all pass you by without a single glance, all the way down the street and into the line at your coffee shop. You ordered your usual without much fanfare, still having the presence of mind to drop your change into the tip jar on the counter. It wasn’t until you had gotten your drink that you were thrust out of your thoughts, quite literally.

You had only just turned around from the counter, about to start scanning the cafe for a seat when you were knocked to the ground, your drink spilling in your hands.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” Disoriented and still in a haze, the thick Russian accent of the woman who had spoken caught your attention.

A hand reached down into your line of sight and you took it gratefully, managing to keep the pitiful drops of unspilled chai latte in your cup as you were pulled to your feet.

“Let me buy you a new drink,” she offered though you barely heard her.

Now that you were back on your feet you got a better look at the woman who had bumped into you. She was of average height and had her blonde hair pulled into a double ponytail. You didn’t know any Russians but you could’ve sworn you’d met before.

“Do I know you?” You blurted out before you could think and the other woman blinked at you in surprise, brows lifting slightly.

“Perhaps,” she shrugged, “I used to live around here when I was younger.”

You narrowed your eyes at that, certain you would’ve remembered growing up alongside a Russian family, everyone you remembered was as American as they come. It was a small town in Ohio, after all.

“So did I,” you spoke slowly, still trying to ponder it out in your head. “Over on Brown.”

Her eyes narrowed at that, now scrutinizing you as well.

“I grew up on State Street.”

That’s when it clicked for you. You remembered them; family of four, two daughters. Natasha used to ride her bike down your street all the time which meant the woman in front of you must be…

“Yelena?”

“You remember me?”

“Yeah, holy shit! Your sister rode her bike through my mom’s flowers one time by accident, pissed her off for the whole summer. Plus, we went to preschool together.”

“Wait, Y/N Y/L/N?”

“In the flesh,” you replied, spreading your arms out dramatically.

Yelena took that as an invitation to really study you then, eyes flitting up and down as she fully took you in.

“You grew up quite nicely,” she spoke, tone appreciative and you found yourself blushing.

“I- I could say the same thing about you,” you stumbled over your words, feeling flustered. “I don’t remember you being Russian.”

You mentally cursed yourself for once again blurting something out before you could even think about it.

Yelena laughed at that and you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling at the sound. She had a cute laugh. It was fitting.

“Yes, well, my ‘family' and I were actually part of a Russian spy organization, sent to infiltrate a nearby SHIELD facility for some information, so,” she shrugged and you laughed at first, assuming she was joking before you realized she wasn’t laughing along.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Why would I lie?”

You fumbled around with your words at that, unable to come up with a proper response but feeling as though you needed to say something anyway.

“How about I buy you a drink and you tell me about it?” You finally settled on saying and Yelena’s brows lifted again in surprise.

“Sure, but I’m buying the drinks. I owe you for spilling your first one.”

You nodded in agreement, somehow having forgotten all about your spilled drink in the excitement of reconnecting with an old friend. An old friend who was very attractive, if you were being fully honest with yourself.

With new drinks ordered and retrieved, the two of you made your way to a small table by the front window of the cafe. True to your agreement, Yelena explained to you that her “family” when she’d lived in Ohio wasn’t actually her family at all, the entire thing fabricated for their mission, and that after their success she continued to work for the organization before finally getting out as an adult. She skimmed on a lot of the details but you got the sense that the entire ordeal was traumatic for her so you didn’t press. Though, you were quite amazed that the woman across from you (and the tiny blonde girl you’d played dolls with as a kid) was a former spy and assassin. In comparison, your own life story was much less exciting, though you guessed it also held much less trauma as well. Still, Yelena asked and she listened intently as you explained how you’d wound up back in your hometown all these years later.

After that, the conversation seemed to flow seamlessly from one topic to another, and it was so nice to talk to a friend and catch up that you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you went to take a sip from your long-forgotten chai and found it ice cold. You checked your phone and were surprised to see that nearly two hours had passed and while you were planning on spending much longer at the cafe anyway, it still caught you off guard.

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I keeping you from something?” Yelena asked, having noticed you checking the time.

“No!” You rushed to reassure her before flushing slightly at the knee-jerk reaction. “No, I just hadn’t realized how much time has passed. It’s been really nice to see you.”

“It’s been nice to see you too, perhaps we can do this again sometime?”

“I’d like that a lot.” You tried to fight the heat that you felt rushing to your cheeks once more. You weren’t sure if she meant it the same way you did.

“Me too,” she replied softly, ducking her head so that her face was out of view. “I actually do have to get going but maybe we can meet here again next week?”

“Absolutely!” You nodded, trying not to seem too eager and failing miserably. “It’s a date.”

Once again the words slipped out on their own accord and you were left scrambling to do damage control.

“I- I mean like, y’know-”

“A date is good,” Yelena cut you off with a smirk, though you could’ve sworn you could see your own nerves reflected in her eyes.

“A date then,” you agreed, flashing a nervous smile.

“Goodbye, Y/N.” She stood from her chair with a smile, pausing on her way to the door to press a quick peck to your cheek, and then she was gone.

You sat there, still as a statue, for quite some time afterward, your fingertips lightly grazing over where Yelena’s lips had been moments before. You really loved this coffee shop.

#yelena belova #yelena x reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova fic #black widow #mcu #mcu fic #black widow movie #erin takes requests #bianca my love #erin writes

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adelheidvonschicksal · 3 years

Note

Gosh, the Hawks x intern! Reader sure made me tear up :(

Like imagine him regretting not being there for her and his baby girl from the start and trying to make up for it now 😭😭💖

I was going to imagine this, but I couldn't because I ended up writing 3000 words. 😭 I just love fictional babies so much and want them to be happy, okay? I left it open-ended, so I wouldn't betray the "kick his ass" gang. I'm a weak woman 🥺 I still don't know much about him other than what Wikipedia and memes tell me but here we go!

Part One | Part Two

Hawks doesn’t think you’ll ever let him in, not that he could blame you. Every time you see him, your expression hardens, pretty eyes narrow into a glare, nostrils flare, breathing heavy. His only bright light during your last exchange is that you wait three seconds before slamming the door in his face rather than the usual zero.

Oh, he’s definitely softening you up. Not.

It’s been a month now that he’s been at this, and he is starting to wonder if this entire thing is worth the headache. All he’s accomplished so far is bothering you with his requests to talk. Then, he remembers the little angel that you have with you and thinks it’s worth the headache.

At first, he had ignored your previous exchange that day at the park and the nagging feeling in the corner of his mind upon seeing the two of you. Until that same feeling started to weigh on his heart. He quickly realizes what those feelings were. Guilt and regret at not taking another path with the high schooler he so carelessly took advantage of and impregnated.

If he had, he could be annoying Endeavor about his cute little wife right about now.

Hawks feels a bit like Icarus flying too close to the sun and now sinking in a turbulent ocean of his own making. Instead of drowning, the world decides to throw him a lifeline as the receptionist patches a call through to him.

His heart jumps when he hears you on the other side, resistant but succumbed in your plea, “I need your help.”

The very next day you arrive at the agency, a small hand latched in your own as you stand in the middle of his office. You didn’t want to be here. The thought of being in the same place where your daughter was conceived with the same man who left you makes you antsy. You can’t believe you actually let Fumikage talk you into this.

You remember that phone conversation.

Your daughter’s quirk had been coming in full force, so fast you didn’t know how to handle it. You hoped that Tokoyami would have been able to help her control it since he trained with the very person she received her quirk from much longer than you had and that he was part avian himself.

“Please, Fumi. It’s getting worse,” you begged over the phone. “She accidentally hurt a few of the kids at school. No. No. They’re fine, some cuts and a little shook up, but fine. They won’t let her back in until she gets it under control though, so please.”

“I told you there’s not much else I can do. The best solution would be to go to the person with the same quirk.”

He’s right. He’s absolutely right, but you don’t want to rely on someone like that man especially now. What if he ended up hurting her?

“I don’t want to do that.”

“I know you don’t, but he’s been trying to contact you, right? So I'm sure he'd do it if you asked.”

“Yeah…” You growled. “I swear if he makes one smart-ass remark, I might kill him in front of her.”

“Remember it’s not for you. Although, I don’t think you could kill him even if you tried.”

“If we combined our strength…”

“No,” Tokoyami immediately shot down.

You sighed. “I’m only joking. Do you have the number to the agency still?”

Now you’re here, watching the very man who abandoned you kneel down to your daughter’s eye level. Hawks couldn’t believe he’s actually seeing her. It’s a bit exciting to see how much bigger she’s gotten in such a short time with big fat wings at her back holding way more feathers than she can probably deal with.

“So, this is the special girl,” he says. She shies away from him, hiding behind your leg for protection. “Come on out, Baby Bird, you don’t have to be scared of me.”

Slowly, she peeks from behind you, fingers still clutched in your pants leg, and Hawks smiles.

“There you are. Did your mommy tell you who I am?”

“You’re her and uncle Toko’s old teacher, and you’re going to help me control my quirk.”

“That’s right. You just turned five, right? That’s when a lot of quirks can get kind of hectic.”

“Yeah. I had a birthday party with Elsa last month.”

Hawks’ smile falters for a second as he thinks he doesn’t know exactly what day her birthday is. At least now he knows the month. Quickly, he’s back to normal to keep an air of happiness in the situation. “You know I know a lady that looks a bit like Elsa. She has ice powers like her too,” Hawks says, having grown a little closer to the number one hero's family as he tried to figure out what to do about his own family situation.

When her eyes widen, Hawks knows he has her hook, line, and sinker. She throws her initial shyness to the wind in exchange for excitement. “She does? Can I meet her?”

“I’m sure we could make that happen. If not, her son has an ice quirk, too. I’m sure he’d show you.”

The young girl smiles at him, but Hawks notices her vision drifting to something else. Cautiously, her tiny hand stretches out to him, making him nervous as to what she’s doing, before chubby fingers clutch around the edge of his wing, squeezing into his feathers. “They’re pretty,” she mumbles.

“Want one?” he asks, and she nods.

“This is my birthday present for you, don’t lose it,” he says, offering her a single long feather from the back of his wings. She clutches it to her chest tightly, a happy smile plastered on her face.

Then, you interrupt.

“Baby, mama has to run some errands, but she’ll come right back to pick you up when the clock says twelve. You remember how that looks like, right?”

“It’s a 1 and a 2,” she says, bringing up her hands to show you.

Hawks decides to walk you out as your daughter sits in his office chair, twirling around his feather in her hand. He isn’t sure what to say to you now that he has you near him. Should he thank you for bringing her? Or would that only serve to piss you off since it’s not like you wanted to do this by choice?

“Hawks,” you say, bringing him out his thoughts. “There’s one more thing before I go.”

“What is it?”

“Don’t tell her,” you order. “Don’t you dare tell her.”

His chest squeezes at that but he can understand why you wouldn’t want her to know that information when the two of you aren’t even on speaking terms outside this issue. He didn’t want to do anything to make the situation worse either, so he brings his fingers to his mouth and zips his pinched thumb and index finger across his lips. “I’ll make sure mine and anyone else’s lips are sealed if they want to keep their job,” he calmly reassures you, always calm and carefree so you wouldn’t think that your rejection is successfully deterring him.

From then on, you drop your daughter off at his office twice a week to get a better handle on her powers. You didn’t stay long aside from that, but Hawks likes the small moments when all three of you are in the same room together.

The hero can be thankful that at least one of his girls likes him. His Baby Bird quickly attached herself to him, always pattering after his footsteps like a shadow, and always asking if he’d hold her hand, a smile forming whenever he engulfed her smaller one. He even keeps his promise to let her see Rei, or Elsa as Baby Bird so passionately refers to her, now that the woman is out of the hospital.

He thinks that if that family can recover from what happened then his shouldn’t be much different as long as he keeps trying to put in the effort and not step on your toes too much.

It isn’t long before Baby Bird begins to get a hang of her powers. At least enough that she wouldn’t be hurting anyone at school. Hawks had hoped you would still allow him to train her past that point though, but you quickly told him that she wouldn’t be returning to the agency when she reached that point.

He was sad to hear it of course, but he didn’t want to cause what little progress he made to be broken even if he really wanted to see her fly at least a few inches before she left. She’s been getting into the habit of jumping instead of walking to practice like he used to do. Although, she resembles more of a bouncy frog than a bird, to be honest.

He watches, amused, as she bounces along next to him in the hallway.

“You’ve gotten good at that,” he compliments, drawing her attention upwards.

“I’ve been practicing lots at home, but I’m not that good yet. Will you teach me how to fly like you do tomorrow?” she asks.

“No, Baby Bird. Didn’t your mommy tell you that we’re done with training after today?”

She hangs her head down, her bouncing stopping as she drags her feet. “…Yes,” she answers, letting his arm go lax as she releases his hand. Hawks pauses, watching as she draws her hands to her waist and anxiously bunches and twists the bottom of her shirt, and Hawks throat goes dry as she asks with glossy eyes, “Daddy, why doesn’t mommy like you?”

He’s completely silent, wondering exactly when she figured it out or if someone in the office had told her, let alone told her the fact that you didn’t like him. Well, he guesses it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. “How do you know to call me that?"

“Yesterday, my teacher told us that we inhe-inhe-inherent our quirk from our parents. I remember you said Elsa and her son had the same quirk, and you have big wings like mine and can make your feathers move.”

Hawks smiles. She’s a sharp one to piece it together in a day. “Your teacher is right. I bet you’ve never seen anyone else that looks quite like us.”

“No,” she answers, sniffling. “I don’t want to go home. I want to stay and play with you. Mommy is so mean to you. I hate her!”

Hawks cups her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Look at me. Don’t talk about your mommy like that. It’s my fault she always gets upset when I’m around. I was mean and bullied her a lot, so if you’re mad, be mad at me. I’m the reason we can’t play together more.”

She sniffs again but it isn’t enough to stop the globs of tears running down her cheeks. “When we saw you at the park, mommy started crying when we went home. I didn’t know why she did.”

Hawks knows why. The reason you’re always so angry at him is because of the hurt you still hold inside for what he did to you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have cried. The opposite of love is indifference as they say, and he knows it’s true because he had been indifferent to the pain he caused ever since the day you came to him with weepy eyes and shaking arms as you told him you were pregnant. You had been scared, and he told you to deal with it.

Hawks scowls. He’s starting to feel sick.

"If you make someone cry, you should say sorry."

Hawks smiles. “I know, baby. I'll apologize to your mama, and I’m going to try my best to make it up to her, and you, too. I’m not going to make either of you cry anymore. Then, when she forgives me, we’ll play together again.”

She looks to him, a small glimmer of hope. “You promise?”

Hawks chuckles and grins at her, the same charming expression that made you fall for him in the first place. He holds out his hand. “Even better. I pinky promise,” he says and confidently hooks her finger with his. “Repeat after me: birds of a feather stick together.”

“Birds of a feather stick together.”

“That’s my girl,” he praises before dropping her hand to pet her head. “I think we might have a little time for me to teach you something before your mommy gets here.”

At the end of the day, Hawks is already waiting for you at the front steps of the agency as your call pulls into parallel park at the sidewalk. You step out and walk towards the steps, but your daughter meets you halfway by hopping over them, her wings flapping to hover before she falls back down onto her feet.

You smile at her. You can’t believe she’s actually flying, at least a little that is, but your surprise is ruined when she cheers. “Mommy, look at what daddy taught me,” she says, bouncing to show you her new hovering skills. “Are you looking? Are you looking?”

“Yes, I’m looking. You’re so good at that. You need to show me more when we get home,” you say but to be honest it’s the last thing on your mind as you glance over to Hawks. “Baby, why don’t you go sit in the car, and I’ll be right there.”

Hawks watches as she obediently follows your instructions, turning her back and happily hopping towards the vehicle.

“(Name), I-” Hawks says, unsure what to expect when your angry glare turns back on him. It isn’t until his yellow visors are already clicking against the pavement that he realizes you hit him. He hisses at the sting on his cheek. “That actually kind of hurt. I guess I had it coming, but I’m not really sure what I did at least recently,” he tries to play off, but you aren’t having it.

“You told her, you told her,” you keep repeating, and he’s backing away in case you decide to strike him again. “Are you trying to get her on your side?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking, and I didn’t tell her,” Hawks explains. “She pieced it together on her own. She’s sharper than you think, she can see that we look alike when she looks in a mirror, and she knows how quirks work. That’s more than enough for her to tell.”

His explanation is enough for you to halt in your assault, and you angrily huff under your breath. You don’t shift to leave, and there’s no door for you to slam away. He finally has you available. “So, what do you want to do now?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she knows; and honestly, I’m glad she does,” he confesses. “I wouldn’t mind seeing her again if you’d let me.”

Hawks swallows his anxiety as he waits for you to answer. Your eyes shift from him back to where she sits in your car, fiddling with the toys obviously left to clutter in the back before you look back at him, thinking.

“She does seem to like you…for some reason,” you add distastefully, but you know full well how happy training makes her. How her little smile beamed when she fluttered over those steps. How the word daddy came from her so sweetly. “She always likes talking about you after she spends the day here. You make her happy. But that’ll just make it harder for her when you leave ag-“

“I won’t,” he cuts off.

“How do I know that?”

“You don’t but I promise not again. (Name), I’m sorry. I’m sorry for telling you to go away like a burden and for not being there. You must’ve been scared, but I won’t leave either of you alone from now on even if you don’t want me there. I’ll be there if you need me.”

“Drop it. I’m not a part of this,” you tell him.

He knows that you’re rejecting his apology, but his ears can pick up what others can’t. He can hear those soft inflections in your voice right before you harden it into aggression, the slight stutter that you so cleverly thought you hid from him as you nearly fumbled your words, a little glimpse of a teenage girl with a crush on her sensei. “Not yet but do know I plan on trying until I make you fall for me all over again. I miss your cute little face when I'd smile at you.”

You glare. “Say that again, and I will smack you in your "cute little" face.”

"You already did that, but if it makes you feel better go ahead, I can take it if it helps you forgive me.”

He just didn’t expect you to actually take him up on the offer. This time, it’s the other cheek that burns.

“You’re right. That did make me feel better,” you say, smirking as you shake the sting from your hand. Hawks grunts, rubbing his jaw as you begin to walk towards your car. He bends down to pick up his shades before following close behind. You open the driver’s door, and say, “I expect you to pick her up at 9 tomorrow. If you’re late, don’t bother showing up ever again.”

Hawks smirks. You certainly became aggressive these past few years, but he thinks he kind of likes it. As you get in your car, he notices Baby Bird smiling at him from the window, her hand up and clutched around that birthday feather he gifted to her as she waves him off.

He’ll definitely be there on time.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #hawks x y/n #bnha hawks

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sylverstorms · 3 years

Text

Lady Dimitrescu x Maiden ----Chivalry

It is late.

It is late, dammit! you repeat to yourself as you struggle to run through the healthy inches of white frost that cover the roads. The sky is grey, a clear indication it will snow again, but that is precisely what caused you to lose track of time so badly. And in this particular village, it is rumored staying out after sunfall is a fatal mistake.

Normally, you are not one to believe in such superstitions.

But nothing in this place you chose to call home is normal.

Though, to be fair to yourself, it isn’t much of a choice if it’s the only option left. Your family’s debts threatened to choke the life out of you after you lost your father –and you had to escape to the distant village of his birth. The same one he adamantly refused to talk about every time you asked, since childhood. Now you see why. You definitely see why.

The winter is ice cold. The summer –well, from what you’ve heard, that doesn’t really exist. Peerless, thick forests separate you completely from the outside world. The villagers range from highly superstitious to downright batshit crazy, which you guess –and hope— is from the isolation. That and the ‘incidents’. You choose to call them that so you don’t think of corpses and lose sleep at night.

The truth is… there are quite a lot of disappearances. An unsettling amount, if you’re honest. Still, there is a logical explanation besides the ‘werewolves and vampires and blood-witches’ nonsense you keep hearing about.

It baffles you why the villagers refuse to accept that it’s just the wolves. You’re surrounded by woods, for God’s sake and you hear them howling above the wind almost every night. They literally keep you awake sometimes. At the end of the day, though, they are just animals. Not supernatural monsters. Just good ol’ mother nature at her most brutal.

And in the off chance it isn’t, you don’t want to stay out long enough to find out.

Your steps hasten. It is a great relief when the sign of the shop near your house comes into view. Yes, almost made it! You cannot wait to have some warm soup and then curl into a ball underneath your heavy blankets.

Just as you are about to take the turn home, however, something catches your eye. Someone. Their presence is so jarring it makes you literally freeze in place and stare.

A woman you’ve never seen before –you’d know if you had, nothing about her is forgettable— ducks out of the store. Yes, she ducks, because she’s so incredibly tall there is no other way for her to fit through. Her height isn’t even the most stunning thing about her. Actually, you can’t decide what is.

It may be her spotless white dress and the way it hugs her luscious curves just right. It may be the wide-brimmed hat she wears, or the pearls that glimmer at her neck and ears, screaming of wealth. It may be her perfectly styled waves of dark hair and how stark they stand against the paleness of her skin. Or perhaps the ancient Greek, goddess-like beauty that is her profile.

You stand there breathless as she turns the other way, having spared you not a single glance. And why would she, when you’re a commoner and she looks like she has and is everything?

What is a woman like that doing here?

She belongs in a palace guarded by knights, is your first thought. Then it clicks. She does, in fact, live in a palace. She must be the lady you hear the whole village whispering about, the one who owns the castle at the top of the mountain.

That… is such a hike from the village. How did she manage that in a dress and heels? And… wait. How isn’t she freezing to death? Even past your two layers of coats, you are shaking. The frost is biting. It’s biting hard.

You want to ask her if she’ll be alright on her own, but the first lesson you learned in the village is to mind your own business. People do not react well to kindness here.

So you make to follow your own path— only to halt again when a tiny shooting star of a shine slips down her back and falls into the snow. The lady doesn’t seem to notice. Curiosity killed the cat, they say, yet you walk forward to take a closer look.

An earring that looks more expensive than your entire wardrobe –and probably is— lies on the cold ground, lost and alone. You must be an idiot because it doesn’t even occur to you to sell it for a month’s worth of any meal you desire, until much, much later.

“Um— my lady!” you call out, before you can think twice about it. You don’t remember her name. What is the castle called? Oh, come on… Dimitrescu or something?

Thankfully, she stops and you don’t have to embarrass yourself further. When she turns, a cold breeze carries a wondrous, expensive perfume to your nostrils. Sandalwood, Chantilly musk. You are pinned in place by a pair of amber eyes that seem to positively glow from within. She’s terribly intimidating, even while she looks more amused than bothered by your delay.

You try not to stammer or stumble. “S-sorry to stall you. Your earring fell off.” you say over the pounding of your heart and the merciless chill. Your fingers are numb when you present the object to her like a tribute.

A gloved hand reaches up to her ear, slow, as if she’s in no hurry at all. “Ah.” she breathes. She even sounds as good as she looks. “How nice of you to return it, dear.”

That ‘dear’ shouldn’t make your mind glitch like a faulty machine so easily. You lament the fact your palm is so cold you can’t even feel the whisper of her glove against it as she takes her earring back. You stand so frozen underneath her towering height, her classy smell and studying, golden gaze for a moment you have all but forgotten the time.

A distant howl is quick to remind you.

Oh no!

Your instincts give an instant flight reaction, you want to make a dash for your house, but your blue eyes meet hers once more. The stunning lady either has a mean poker face or the sound doesn’t faze her at all. She seems to disregard it as blatantly as the cold.

“That— that’s not good.” So much for not stammering in front of the beautiful woman.

“Better hurry indoors, now.” she says it lightly, as if there’s an underlying joke in there somewhere. “Who knows what scary monsters a pretty dear like you may attract.”

A pretty— your brain shuts down and reboots on the spot. If the urge to run to safety wasn’t swelling so fast you’d have trouble speaking at all, after that. It is a small mercy your blood is too frozen in your veins to make your cheeks redden.

“But you… you’re not going back to your castle alone, right?” you ask. Surely, she’s not that crazy to trudge through the damn woods at this time. “S-shall I escort you to safety?”

The Lady blinks.

Then, she throws her head back in a brief, hearty laugh that tickles your ears in the best way.

“And they say chivalry is dead!” her voice sounds like whiskey. “You are too good for this village, darling, you really are.” as she says it, the very tip of her glove brushes over your cheek. A touch ghostly; quick to fade, though not from your skin. “Don’t you worry about me. Get indoors.” The last part sounds like an order.

You don’t have to be told twice.

You’re hesitant –why are you so worried about her?— but you step back with a nod. “Stay safe.” you say and dash towards your home without looking over your shoulder again.

The breath you’ve been keeping leaves you only after you’re safely inside with the doors and windows locked. The howling is getting closer. Louder. You can’t stop thinking about the woman –Lady Dimitrescu?— and hoping she sees the sunrise safe and sound.

Weirdly enough, nothing pads or scratches or makes noise around your house that night.

You fall into a deep sleep, dreaming of golden eyes and lips crimson like blood.

Ko-Fi

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x oc #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #fanfiction #Lady D #lady dimitrescu x reader #tall vampire lady #help im in love #after she yeeted that vanity I had to write about her or i'd go mad

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i-make-fun-of-spn-characters · 3 years

Note

I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby.

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants.

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones.

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that.

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that.

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations.

#being serious for 5 seconds #RANTING RANTING RANTING #spicy spicy ghost pepper extract #mail

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anika-ann · 3 years

Text

In the Strangest Place (We Just Might Find Love) - Pt.2

Type: two-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 2750

Summary: You’re hiding from your boss in a supply closet, minding your own business, when a stranger joins you unexpectedly.

Steve is not entirely a stranger anymore; he knows about your troubles and you know about his. And he’s determined to sort out yours this very moment.

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment, a bit of angst, language, something that might be close to a panic attack if you squint

A/N: There we go... hopefully I’ll make mid-week a bit sweeter for some of you ;)

Part 1

“Alright, kids. Let’s have a trip.”

And you just stared.

…what?

“W-what?” you stuttered, suddenly consumed by the familiar feeling of losing the firm ground under your feet at the idea of trying to confront Gregory head-on. Not even Steve at your side was helping at all as the four of you started walking towards the IT department.

“I-I don’t have any prove! I can’t-- he told me he would--- that he would-”

“That he’d twist it around, convince the HR that you were crushing on him and he turned you down, which turned you into a soulless bitch craving revenge?” the billionaire finished for you and you just uselessly opened you mouth, unable to let out a word to deny it. It seemed to amuse him, because he scoffed; and there was something very bitter in that sound too. “Kid, he’s not the first asshole to take advantage of his superior position. I’ve seen the types. Relax. If Cap here believes you, then so do I. Plus, I know a liar when I see one. And you ain’t lying.”

You breathed in shakily, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest. Could it really be so easy? That couldn’t be right…

“T-thank you, Mr. Stark. I-”

“Yeah, yeah, just name your first kid after me,” Mr. Stark uttered, waving it off.

The Falcon next to you chuckled and you shot Steve a confused gaze. Was that how Mr. Stark usually was? You had never met him in person; you had only ever heard him giving a speech on TV and you knew he had a certain reputation, but this was… different.

You were surprised to find Steve watching you; perhaps he worried about your reaction to such bluntness, since he had seen your outburst in the closet. Upon meeting your gaze – probably shy and undeniably surprised – he charmed a tiny smile for you.

“It’s gonna be okay, see?”

“What are you even worried about? You have three Avengers coming with you!” Mr. Wilson questioned lightly and you bit your lower lip as you thought of the source of anxiety indeed.

Yeah, I have three Avengers and they are all men. Sue me for not being sure which side they would take – not until now.

“You’re not a full-time Avenger, Wilson.”

Falcon gasped, clutching at his chest theatrically at Stark’s remark. “Ouch, Tony. My heart.”

You let out a breathy laugh at their banter and felt yourself relax despite your better judgement. You almost let yourself believe it truly would go alright. Well, as much as dealing with such shitty thing could.

“You’re all my heroes,” you whispered timidly, which earned you a bright smile from Sam Wilson.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Cruel, Birdboy. You stole the old man’s line,” Mr. Stark hummed, amused.

“Heh! Sorry, Cap. But I’m sure you have a whole set of other lines to use on her.”

You choked on your own spit as Steve faltered in his steps, his grip on you growing stronger. What the hell did the Falcon just say?

“Oh my God, Wilson, shut up before we get stuck with another harassment report.”

“I don’t think this a subject for joking,” Steve interjected, slightly irritated, and you shot him a grateful look, because he definitely had a point.

Except… once you weren’t in such a sticky situation, you totally wouldn’t mind Steve Rogers using a line on you. Not at all. And his hand around yours felt nice for multiple reasons, the wordless comfort and support only being one of them. It was warm and slightly calloused, a reminder of his physical work, and it was bigger than yours, so sweetly and distractingly enveloping yours…

But now it was so not the time.

Your peculiar group approached the office and you didn’t even have the time to brace yourself as Tony Stark simply threw the door open, not bothering to knock.

“Thomas Ian Gregory, you are fired this very second,” the billionaire exclaimed dramatically.

You would think he was just being a drama queen, except he sounded deadly serious, using your boss’ full name which he must have read out on the door, and his eyes were throwing daggers at the man sitting behind the desk, looking as if he was the fucking king of the world.

Your boss blinked in surprise and eyed all four of you; Falcon with his arms crossed on his chest, Ironman minus his suit with a murderous glare and a hand raised towards him as if he wanted to point a finger and then Gregory’s gaze fell on your hand connected with Steve’s; you wanted to retrieve it quickly, but Steve wouldn’t let you, his grip growing firm. Anger flashed through your boss’ eyes for a second, before he composed himself and rose from his chair with an innocently confused expression.

You wanted to puke and you felt your legs turning into a shaking mess of jello. This was it. Now he would use his slimy words to turn this situation around and you were about to get fired and humiliated so much that jumping under a bus would be the most likeable option for you.

“Mr. Stark, it’s an honour. Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson. What do I owe the pleasure?”

You couldn’t believe this--- this pig. Seriously. Who the fuck did he think he was?! How could he--- just lie so easily, pretending that everything was perfectly fine?!

But Tony Stark was not fooled by the charade and you mentally sighed in relief, sure they must have heard the weight falling off of your shoulders even in Jersey.

“I’m sure you heard me, Mr. Gregory. You quit and you’ll be hearing from the HR soon. And you’ll be damn lucky if this young lady right here won’t sue you.”

You honestly wished you were invisible when Gregory’s gaze flickered to you, subtle anger with a promise of consequences in his irises – consequences that would come should you not cut this bullshit right now.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Stark. If this is about the unfortunate feelings my assistant has for me-”

Tears of rage and baseless shame stung in your eyes at his words and you breathed in sharply to defend yourself; before you could, Gregory continued.

“Though I can see they weren’t very… honest. Obviously my inferior seems to be the ‘love them and leave them’ type, which I should warn you about, Capta-”

Breathless at his malicious made-out theories, you did not expect Steve to drop your hand in favour to tower over your boss, making him shut up with one single glare.

Alright, you could see why he had thought that simply appearing at your office would make Gregory tremble in fear. Your boss actually backed off and learnt onto a table, looking as if he was supporting himself under the weight of Steve’s judgement.

“I met this woman for the first time not half an hour ago, hiding from you, too scared of your dirty hands to return to her own workplace. Trust me, it left an impression, just like you are leaving one now,” Steve grunted menacingly, causing your heart to pound in your chest in fright even with his words not aimed on you. “If I can give an advice, you pack your things as fast as you can, apologize to her profusely, begging for her forgiveness and you don’t set a foot in this building or speak to her ever again. Do we have an understanding?”

You weren’t the only one affected. Your boss tried to reciprocate Captain America’s glare, but he failed miserably. He visibly gulped and circled his desk, still watching the soldier as if he was expecting to get hit; then his eyes just dropped to his desk and he frantically started picking random things from it.

You watched the scene in front of you, paralyzed. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, pulsing in your temples, your breathing alternating between hitching and picking up. Your vision started to swim.

Holy. Shit.

“Cap, I think you broke her.”

Steve spun to you at instant, his eyes roaming your face; or you thought so. He looked worried now; or you thought so. Thinking and frankly evaluating the stimuli your senses were receiving was a bit difficult at the moment.

What the hell had just happened?

Gentle hands took yours, leading you out of the room. You blindly followed, unsure how to put one foot in front of the other, your body running on autopilot.

It was over. Thomas Gregory was no longer your boss and it had happened without you losing your job. And Steve Rogers had scolded him as if he was a five-year old kid – a very pervert one, but a kid nonetheless. Steve put a fucking fear of God into him. All of that happening within three minutes. And you just… couldn’t quite process all that.

You barely registered getting into and out of an elevator, being seated on a couch, having a blanket tossed over your shoulders and a cup of warm liquid pressed into your hands. You automatically brought it to your lips, only to be stopped by a tender fingers curling around your wrist.

“Careful. It might be too hot,” a pleasant voice warned you and you blinked, finally focusing your gaze, finding rather worried and very handsome face staring back.

You glanced at the cup, surprised to identify the drink as Steve’s hand let go of yours.

“Is that… is that hot chocolate?” you stuttered, bewildered. Well, more like… astonished.

“Yeah. You’re not allergic to milk or anything, are you?”

You looked up back to Steve’s face, only to find him with his brows furrowed in concern, lips thoughtfully pursed. It snapped you to action.

“No! No. It’s just… I didn’t have one in years. Thank— thank you.”

His expression cleared, as he was evidently pleased with himself. “Good. You’re welcome.”

The words fell off his lips so easily. As if he just hadn’t… hadn’t saved your career. Or your mental health, really.

You eyed the table by the couch, setting the cup down, only to fully turn to him. He seemed a bit confused at that; but God, you had something important to say and since you didn’t want to give up the blanket just yet, you decided to get rid of the mug at least to look less pathetic.

“No, Steve, I… thank you,” you whispered sincerely, feeling tears in your eyes for like a millionth time that day. His smile widened a little.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry if I… if I scared you down there. It wasn’t meant for you.”

“You didn’t-” you blurted out in attempt to deny it and make him feel better, only to waver as his eyebrow rose, picture perfect of doubt. It made you chuckle at yourself self-deprecatingly. “It’s not your fault that I was… surprised by your little hulk-out. I guess I just didn’t see it coming.”

“Hulk-out, huh? How do you feel?”

You shrugged, exhaling slowly, thinking hard about your answer.

“Like I just watched my life take a way better turn that I would expect... and I’m still only watching,” you whispered honestly, which led to his face twisting in a grimace.

“Anything I can do?”

You couldn’t help it; you scanned your surroundings, realizing you were in something that looked fancy enough to belong to Tony Stark and was way too big to be part of an actual apartment. You ran your hand down the blanket covering your shoulders, reaching for the abandoned cup to blow on it softly and take a careful sip of chocolate. Steve’s questioning gaze observed you while you did so and you smiled blissfully into the cup as the delicious rich taste caressed your tongue.

“You mean besides comforting me despite being a complete stranger, getting my harassing boss fired and scaring the hell out of him, taking me to--- here, giving me a blanket and making the best cup of hot chocolate I had in years? Give me a second, I’m sure I’ll figure out something else,” you babbled and Steve’s smile grew, tense shoulders relaxing. “Seriously, Steve. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I owe you. I- I know you’re a hero and all that, but… yeah. I should be asking you what I could do for you in return.”

“That’s not-- I’m not--- ...you make a pleasant company,” he said in the end as if he realized he couldn't deny any of the things you had listed. You lowered your gaze to the chocolate as his eyes twinkled at the statement.

“Ditto.”

“Does that-” he blurted out and you tilted your head to side, watching him curiously when he stopped talking just as abruptly. “This is a terrible timing, but that’s apparently an infamous quality of mine, because usually I wait too long, and… uhm…”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suddenly embarrassed soldier scratching the back of his neck, peeking at your through his eyelashes. Was that--- was he trying to-? No, it couldn’t be.

“Yeah?” you softly encouraged him to continue.

He wetted his lips, causing your previously tight gut to warm up.

“I understand that it’s the last thing you’re thinking about right now, but… when you settle down again... and things are a bit calmer for you… would you- uhm, like to… maybe spend some more time with--- with me?”

If he had blurted the sentence in one go, you would have dropped your mug in surprise despite suspecting this incredible thing when he had turned bashful. But he didn’t so your brain had enough time to process the words slowly leaving his lips, one after another, little shy, little hopeful. Your heart was speeding up with each of them, ready to burst when he finished with a tiny nervous smile.

Well. How could you possibly say no to that irresistible creature in front of you? You smiled into your drink.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

You wanted to chuckle at the pure surprise on his face, but it was just too endearing and so you had to fight the urge to make an embarrassing sound like an aww instead.

“Yeah, Steve. I’d really like that,” you repeated, hiding the teasing note in your voice. “But you’ve got to teach me how to make a chocolate that good, because seriously, it tastes amazing.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” you demanded, a bit hurt, rather surprised. “I don’t want you to give up your secret recipe right away! Just… in time.”

He grinned at you boyishly, leaning a bit closer to you. You held your breath in anticipating, a the change. “I could. But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the process of preparing it for you and your smile in return.”

You stared at him for few moments, taking the statement in, wondering if he was teasing you or was being serious. The corners of his lips were quirked up as if he was indeed joking, but there was a certain spark of honesty in his eyes.

You decided to play along, whether it was a game or not. Perhaps it was the relief of newly found freedom from a sleazy man in your life that plucked up your courage and woke up your jovial side.

“Aww, Steve, that’s so sweet. Is that your way of telling me you’re planning on spoiling me? Because then I would need significantly less time to… settle down.”

His grin widened at your words. “Is that so?”

“Mm.”

“Well then…” he brought up lowly, torturing you with anticipation when he didn’t continue, only to watch you with a mischievous smile.

“...then?”

“What are your plans for Friday evening?”

Oh, you were so glad you were sitting, because otherwise the force of the moment in which Steve Rogers asked you out on Friday night would knock you down.

You tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t sound like an over-enthusiastic YES, but his blue eyes staring into yours made it very difficult for you.

Dammit, it was harder to talk to him when you could actually see--- you smiled smugly at the idea that popped up in your head and raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

“I’m hiding in a supply closet. Why, you wanna join me?”

Steve burst out laughing, throwing his head back with that sound and the picture armed your heart so thoroughly it was unfair.

“Sure thing. Would you like me to bring muffins and coffee or do you prefer an actual dinner?”

You found yourself laughing too and you suddenly believed that your life would indeed get better. It already had, after all.

S.R. masterlist

Beautiful divider by @whimsicalrogers

Thank you for the kind feedback on the first part and I hope you liked this one too :))

Thank you for reading!

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #mcu #marvel #in the strangest place we just might find love #anika ann

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dear-mrs-otome · 3 years

Note

As someone who can’t read Japanese, could you please spoil Faust’s route? I’m really curious!

I can, sorry this took me awhile to get all down!

I’ll give you a summary of Faust’s route below the cut, so for those zooming past BE WARNED. SPOILERS FOLLOW.

SPOILERS AHOY!

DO YOU REALLY WANT TO HAVE THE WHOLE ROUTE SPOILED IN DETAIL???

I MEAN IT - A GIANT WALL OF TEXT EXISTS BEHIND THIS CUT, ALL SPOILERS…

Faust’s route begins as all of the ‘Act 2’ routes do - just as MC is attempting to return home after her month vacation in the past, the door to the Louvre appears to malfunction and she’s forced to remain in the 19th century until Comte can figure out what is going on.

Life carries on much as usual for her, as she tries to keep her spirits up, when one day in town she stumbles across a church on the edges, presided over by a kindly priest (Faust) who seems impressed by her generosity towards a poor woman he’s given medicine to whose son is suffering from a mysterious epidemic that’s begun circulating the city. One night she attends a party with Comte when a critter of some sort steals her hair ornament. Chasing after it, she winds up in a graveyard, where to her horror she sees a figure digging up a fresh grave. She tries to run, is caught by said figure (Faust), and bitten until she faints. (First CG)

She wakes up in the church from earlier and the kind priest who claims he was merely a Good Samaritan seems willing to help her get home. Soon though it comes to light that she is the woman staying with Comte, and Faust drops his ‘nice’ mask and reveals himself as a vampire - biting her once more to observe the effects and proclaiming he will abduct her to be his new guinea pig, curious about her as a person both from the future and who has been living with vampires.

Waking up in Vlad’s castle now, she meets the Terrible Trio and struggles to deal with her situation now - Faust feeds on her for the purposes of observation again, and she goes on a hunger strike briefly, defiant and unwilling to accept being captive. Only when Faust threatens the other residents of the mansion does she reluctantly settle down, and they butt heads over their wildly different philosophies on life - Faust’s mission to grant humans eternal life, her proclaiming God gives us only that which we can handle, and Faust’s disagreement.

To prove his point he begins bringing her to the church with him disguised as a nun, where she witnesses firsthand the cruelties of fate in ways her 21st century self had never encountered before - children orphaned senselessly, people coming for confession bearing the crushing weight of guilt over their own poverty and misfortune. She begins to realize how she may have been wrong, but she and Faust continue to disagree over their different viewpoints. MC still believes that hope is real and necessary, whereas Faust is a committed cynic.

She slowly comes to lose her fear of the other residents of the castle as well, as they are nothing but kind and welcoming to her, though she still is unsure of what to make of everything and remains defiant.

The arguments between her and Faust come to a head when the son of the woman MC met that very first day outside the church comes around, seeking Faust’s blessing to send him on to the next life and refusing the medicine and help offered him. Faust reacts harshly to the man’s willingness to quietly acquiesce to his fate, to MC’s horror, and when she asks him if he has nothing of hope left Faust assures her it’s long gone. When she spots Napoleon and Sebastian later, she dithers for a bit but eventually tries to call out to them, only to have Faust intercept. Still unsettled from their argument earlier, he reiterates to her that she belongs to him and bites her on the church altar, as if to prove that bad things happen to good people no matter what.

Things are strained between them after that, not helped by MC’s increasing suspicions that the strange rumors of ‘resurrections’ going on around the city in the wake of the disease are somehow Faust’s work - an accusation that clearly wounds Faust upon hearing. She meets a young university student, Alex, who desperately wants to be Faust’s assistant and is studying the epidemic. Days pass as they continue working at the church and the orphanage, until one day the disease strikes even there - and finding Faust’s medication is running out, over his protests and concerns MC volunteers to help him make more, the two of them working day and night together to develop and manufacture enough to save the children.

They’re successful, save for one girl Lina who is still very sick that they bring back to the castle to finish nursing to health. They succeed, but afterwards MC falls ill with the same sickness and collapses...only marginally coherent of a desperate Faust doing all he can to save her life. (2nd CG)

She has time and evidence to rethink some of her assumptions about Faust, realizing that despite his best efforts to crush whatever heart and kindness he has it remains. There’s more to him than just icy logic. And when she asks him about his past he finally tells her some of it - that he was abandoned as a baby, raised in an orphanage by a kindly nun, and that when she fell ill he sold himself into slavery to provide her with money for medicine. It made no difference in the long run though, the woman still died...and Faust remains the cynic when they discuss hope and happiness and how MC still clings to these things.

Rumors abound about Faust’s miraculous work stopping the epidemic at the orphanage, as things return mostly to ‘normal’ for them both, working at the church and such. They’re each grappling with changing feelings for each other, Faust suffering his first bout of bloodlust, when one morning Faust collapses in agony bleeding from his mouth horrifically, falling unconscious for days.

Everyone at the castle is fretting, Faust growing weaker and weaker, as Vlad explains his theory that Faust has altered the timeline too much by stopping the plague at the orphanage and the universe is attempting to set things to right again by erasing him from existence. He claims the same thing has happened to him before when he tries to change world events too drastically - the difference being that as a pureblood he can’t die. Faust, however, can.

He proposes traveling back in time and attempting to nudge humans here and there, make tiny alterations to the timeline to achieve the same goal of saving the children without the backlash falling on Faust, and MC insists on going along - realizing now that she’s faced with his death, she can’t bear the thought of losing him.

Going through the door in the castle with Vlad, she ends up first back at the mansion shortly after her own disappearance (where she assures Comte she’s doing well, thereby explaining why the mansion wasn’t losing their minds this entire time) and recruiting Comte’s help fiddling with the timeline. Upon the next passage she’s ripped from Vlad and dumped far in the past - where she witnesses firsthand little Johann’s heart and faith breaking upon the death of his beloved mother-figure nun, and then the natural disaster that crushed a town he frequented as a young man. This was the moment that solidified for Faust his determination to fight against God and Fate with all he had, and kicked off his obsession with discovering eternal life. (3rd CG)

After one more timey-wimey meeting with the Past!Faust at the point when they were nursing little Lina, where she offers him some much-needed words of encouragement, MC finally finds herself in the recent-enough past to travel around Paris with Vlad and encourage people to be more aware of the spreading plague. She even urges Alex to be more wary, prompting him to start developing his own medication from notes he’d taken from Faust.

Back in the ‘proper’ time, their efforts seem to perhaps have paid off...they return to find Faust gone, and after searching frantically around the city they find the orphanage has been set aflame on the strength of rumors that the plague spread from there. (As if the universe has manufactured some new tragedy instead for it, she realizes) Faust had gone into the blaze to save the last child, but comes out horrifically burnt and near death.

They take him to the church, where things appear dire...but Faust admits to finally seeing hope and accepting this outcome, just glad that something good has come of it all. MC refuses to accept his death though, and after Faust nearly dies again she cuts herself and he eventually revives. After he recovers, Faust corners her into confessing her feelings for him and admitting his own in return, before they finally consummate their love.

MC returns to the mansion as she had promised Past!Comte she would, happy to see all her friends again. A few days pass before Faust and Charles come to collect her, setting off an amusing set of interactions between the Mansion Boys and the Dastardly Duo, but it culminates in a scene where Faust thanks Comte humbly for his assistance with the timelines and for his consideration of MC. The couple then has a late-night conversation at the church where they’re both working again about the future of their relationship.

In Faust’s dramatic end, he asks MC to accompany him as he returns back to the place of that town that was destroyed, Faust making peace with his feelings surrounding the situation and reiterating his love for MC and how she’s helped him to see hope - before he asks her to help him with a different sort of ‘eternal life’, AKA having babies with him.

In Faust’s romantic end, he explains a bit about what motivates him to take on the role of a priest, and then he takes MC back to the castle where he intends to make love to her - saying that he can’t ever lose her but can’t stomach the thought of anyone other than himself ever biting her so he will have to work all that much harder to achieve his dream of eternal life so that they can continue to thumb their noses at God and Fate for all time together.

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Even long as this is I’m clearly glossing over things - it’s a very busy route! And it’s complicated by the time travel stuff, which thankfully doesn’t get TOO complicated. If anyone’s interested in hearing my thoughts on Faust himself I’m happy to share, just let me know...I think he’s a fascinating complex character that definitely won’t be for everyone, but I am happy he exists in the IkeVamp cast and glad for this route.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp faust #spoiler #spoilers #ikemen vampire spoilers #ikevamp spoilers #legit guys this is the entire route summed up here #consider yourself warned!!!#Anonymous #route summary #ikevamp jp

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