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lookwhatyoumademedohaha · 1 year

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And that kids, is how I met your mother! Chapter 1 - Until I Found You

I would never fall in love again until I found her I said, "I would never fall unless it's you I fall into" I was lost within the darkness, but then I found her I found you

Summary: Nikolai Lantsov is a falling in love with you. But do you feel the same way about him?

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x Reader, Nikolai Lantsov x Six of Crows Reader, Kaz Brekker x Reader.

Warnings: Pure fluff, angst and comfort, humor, unrequited love, pining.

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first Nikolai Lantsov fic so I hope that I did Nikolai’s character justice! I am thinking of making this a series and writing another part to this because this is not the end but the beginning! Let me know your thoughts and comments on my work because it means a lot to me! I love you all! Happy reading!

Chapter 2 - Labyrinth

Chapter 3 - Call it what you want

Chapter 4 - Someone to Stay

Chapter 5 - Cornelia Street

Nikolai Lantsov did not believe in love at sight. Nikolai was raised in a gleaming palace where love didn’t have a place in his life. He was raised and believed that love was not an option for a Lantsov son and the King of Ravka whose reason for marriage should be to forge political connections and produce heirs.

But then you had stormed into his life. And the moment Nikolai had seen you, he had been absolutely enchanted by you and there was no going back.

You had arrived into Ravkan Court a few weeks ago from Ketterdam with Nina Zenik who had come to visit Zoya and help her with training Grisha for a few months. Initially Nikolai had been informed that Nina would be arriving alone but he was pleasantly surprised when after Nina, you had stepped out of the carriage in wonder and amazement of a girl who was in a dream. Nina had introduced you to Nikolai, Zoya, David and Genya as part of the Crows in Ketterdam.

Nikolai couldn’t help falling in love with you. He knew it was silly to fall in love with you when he didn’t even know you properly but he loved the curve of your lips when you smiled at his jokes. He loved how you held yourself with a careless elegance as if you didn’t care what anyone else thought of you. He loved how your eyes would twinkle in love for your friends as you gave warm hugs to them and the joy that shined on your face whenever you sent letters to the Crows in Ketterdam. He loved how you treated everyone from Duke to servant with respect and kindness. He loved you on the days you were silent and reserved, lost in your myriad of thoughts. He loved your fierce scowl directed at him whenever he teased you and your blazing furious glare whenever you saw anyone hurt others. He loved the mischief and amusement that shone in you as you talked with children being childlike yourself making them giggle.

But there was a problem.

Your heart was set on someone far away in Ketterdam.

Nikolai had slyly poked around and investigated with a little help from Genya and Zoya whether you were single because he was aching with hope that you wouldn’t be in love with someone else. After torturing Nina who had kept her mouth shut for an impressively long time, he found out that you were in love with Kaz Brekker but he was not in love with you. You had set your hopeful heart in the hands of the Bastard of the Barrel who had used all of its love for a heist by making you play a role of his wife in a fake marriage for months. Everyone knew that you had agreed because you loved Kaz but as time passed, all the Crows thought Kaz had fallen in love with you because of different, sweet and soft - hearted, his heart in his eyes when he was around you. Nina had heard his heart for you and was certain Kaz reciprocated your feelings.

But after the scheme, the heist was over, Kaz has pushed you away and thrown you away with a disregard for your feelings as he crushed your heart into broken glass between his bloody claws. Kaz refused to acknowledge your love for him and face his feelings for you and he stayed stubborn no matter how hard the Crows tried to persuade him. So finally Nina who had enough of seeing you miserable and broken - hearted decided to bring you to Ravka because she believed a lot of distance, good food and a nice change of scenery would cheer you up.

A fake marriage with real feelings. Nikolai understood the feeling all too well. After all, Alina who had been engaged to him had chosen Mal but Nikolai’s heart had been crushed because he had liked Alina and wondered what was wrong with him. He never wanted anyone to feel such a pain and thinking of you suffering in silence, quietly trying to piece your broken heart pained him. He had noticed and wondered about the dark circles under your eyes, the glossy far away distant look in your eyes, the excitement fading when you finished looking through your letters you received from your friend as if there was one missing, the way you looked wistfully and sadly at lovers dancing in court and the quiet unhappiness you hid behind your forced smile when anyone mentioned Kaz Brekker.

Now Nikolai knew why and though he considered Kaz Brekker to be a mutual friend, he had an urge to punch Brekker in the face because why couldn’t he see you were beautiful and wonderful in every way? Why did he break you heart?

Nikolai knew that the smart option would be to give up and walk away from you because there was no chance you would ever return his love. But he was a fool when it came to you. The feelings he had for Alina seemed insignificant compared to the enormity and significance of the feelings he had for you. The moment Nikolai had seen you, he felt familiarity and the feeling of coming home bloom warmly within his heart as he felt alive for the very first time. Nikolai understood every poem about soulmates in that moment as he knew you were his great and beautiful love that only came once in a lifetime and could never be replaced and forgotten. Nikolai felt his heart whisper that you were the one every time you smiled at him and felt forever surround him whenever he held a conversation with you. You were a dream, a comet in the night sky.

And Nikolai knew that if he didn’t fight for you, fight for the love that he could have with you, he would be damned to regret and misery for the rest of his lifetime wondering what could have happened between them if he had faced his feelings and let you know that he loved you. Nikolai knew that even if you didn’t return his affections, he would never love anyone the way he loved you.

So he began trying to woo you. Nikolai complimented you, teased you endlessly receiving annoyed and amused glares from you, joked with you mischievously, asked you questions, spent his leisure time with you, found excuses to spend time with you and talked with you nervously stuttering and blushing and listening attentively to you because he was entranced by you. But in all his attempts to show you that he loved you, you would push him away with brushing off his compliments, gestures and comments with sarcastic remarks and the remarkable roll of your eyes and your guarded demeanor when you realized he was opening his heart to you.

Nikolai remembered the first time he had complimented you flirtatiously when he had seen you in the training grounds “Y/N, you look beautiful as a field of honeysuckle blooming in a spring afternoon.”

Nikolai relished the shock and surprise flushing in your face as your eyes grew guarded “I’m not interested. Save your sweet words for some princess.”

Nikolai appreciated how straightforward you were with him despite how it cut him deep to the bone as he had retorted cheekily “You are a princess to me.”

Nikolai had seen you shake your head in exasperation and walk away when Nikolai yelled out loud “I am going to marry you one day and make you the happiest princess in the world, mark my words Y/N! You’ll be my princess madly in love with me and we’ll live happily ever after!”

Zoya who had been with Nikolai had muttered something about being subtle but Nikolai whose heart was full of you and knew that if he said he was going to marry you one day, he probably would. His attention was only on you who had frozen mid step and then turned around toward him with a completely surprised and exasperated expression “Keep dreaming, Lantsov.”’

Nikolai still was utterly entranced and enchanted by you as he grinned widely, his eyes twinkling with mischief “I got eyes only for you.”

Nikolai saw you roll your eyes sarcastically in exasperation and annoyance at him but he had seen a faint hint of a smile curve on your face as you had walked away, giving him hope.

Genya thought Nikolai’s crush and attempts to show it were cute. Nina found this hilarious and amusing, encouraging this just to see Nikolai fail. Zoya rolled her eyes calling Nikolai a silly school boy falling over his knees pulling the pigtails of a little girl just to get your attention.

Nikolai who was lost in his thoughts about you as he took a stroll in the grounds felt depressed and exhausted by the work and the thought of you loving someone who didn’t appreciate you. He was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t see you as he bumped into you and both of you fell down.

Nikolai’s eyes widened in apology as he stuttered nervously trying to help you up “I apologize, Y/N. Are you hurt?”

“Oh, I’ve been in worse situations.” you replied cheerfully as you helped him up and looked at him with a cheerful smile that grew into a concerned expression as you observed the exhaustion written in his hazel eyes from ruling Ravka which he gave everything to.

Nikolai froze in surprise when you hugged him gently but he felt himself relax and loosen in your arms as he felt the heavy weight of duty begin to unfold as you whispered softly “Nikolai... just let it all go.”

Nikolai dropped his head on your shoulder feeling the burden of exhaustion throughout the months he had been carrying silently begin to fade away as tears sprang into his eyes and he choked out a sob because it was hard to be the King of Ravka. It was so hard to fight each day for his people, to nod and agree and disagree with his ministers who had plenty of plans and proposals, to keep an eye out for the number of enemies he was surrounded by and to smile and keep everything together so that Ravka could stand strong and unshaken. He didn’t have time to let go and be himself until you had come along. He didn’t even know it was so lonely and painful until he was in your arms, salty tears running down his cheeks as your arms embraced him warmly and your fingers threading through his blonde hair granting him comfort and peace.

Peace. He had not tasted it for a very long time.

Nikolai didn’t know how long he had cried in your arms but it felt like forever when he raised his head to look into your quiet and kind eyes.

He felt ashamed for being such a baby as he tried to move away and apologized “I am sorry. I have never wanted you to see me like this and burden you with my worries. I apologize for ruining your evening.”

“You do realize you are human?” you inquired sassily but there was utmost gentleness in it “And when are you going to realize that you are not alone? That you have friends around you who love you and want to share your burdens?”

Nikolai was taken aback in surprise at your kindness as he blinked back his tears but you took his hand in yours tentatively and gently “You’re allowed to have very bad days and cry and scream and throw a tantrum about it. You are not alone. I’m your friend, Nikolai and that means you share your burdens and worries with me and I’m going to be there for you. You don’t have to pretend around me.”

Nikolai felt a small smile curve on his face as a spark of comfort spouted in him “That means a great deal to me but I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“You worry about everyone but who worries about you? I’m going to worry about you because I want to and you can’t order me not to!” you exclaimed passionately with a fierce scowl that made Nikolai smile widely in amusement as you tossed your hair.

“You’d get tired of it eventually. And I hate seeing your lovely smile replaced by that fierce frown.” teased Nikolai with a grin as his heart thudded with amazement at how worried you were for him and his heart fluttered as he realized you were still holding onto his hand and hadn’t let go.

“I don’t have a fierce frown.” you retorted frowning fiercely making Nikolai huff in laughter and you shook your head at him in exasperation “And I don’t think I can ever get tired of you.”

Nikolai felt his heart flutter happily as he blushed nervously and shyly and you smiled at him softly “Honestly if anyone would get tired of a person, it would be me. People think of me as cool at first but then they sick of me eventually and want someone new around. You’ll be the same.”

Nikolai saw the sad smile you wore as you said this, the unhappiness in your eyes and felt something fierce and painful clench his heart at the thought of you believing that anyone would be tired of having you around “Tell me... tell me who made you believe that your presence, your very kind and beautiful presence would tire a soul lucky enough to be in your presence?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me. It matters to me because I hate seeing you hate yourself because people were absolute fools who couldn’t see how wonderful you are.” replied Nikolai fiercely and protectively as he held your hands tightly in his, looking earnestly at you. “The next time you think that I will get sick of you... remember that I’m Nikolai Lantsov and that I absolutely adore your friendly smile, your warm hugs, the way you wrinkle your nose and roll your eyes at me when I tease you, and the small things you say that I replay in my head after you are gone. Remember that I want to annoy you forever and I don’t say that about anyone else.”

To Nikolai’s pleasure, you giggled and blushed as you looked at him with something unreadable as you shook your head “I’ll try to believe it. But sometimes... it gets hard to believe everything you told me. It’s hard to believe that I’m someone people will love.”

“I understand how you feel. I - I know the feeling too.” said Nikolai quietly with a vulnerable expression, defenseless and unguarded as he looked at you after a long moment. “I understand how you feel but it’s not true.”

Nikolai saw your eyes widen in surprise and curiosity “But you’re Nikolai! Everybody loves you!”

Nikolai and you had sat on the grassy ground near the lake as he ran his hand through his hair wanting to hide his greatest fears and insecurities but as he stared into your gentle and quiet eyes, he found himself saying “I know... but it’s not the love I want. I don’t feel loved. I don’t believe I’m loved... I’ve never known real love... my father and mother had a marriage of duty and political arrangement. My mother suffered years of heartless neglect at the hands of my father who was too busy abusing young women. And well, my brother... I don’t think he ever cared about me even though I looked up to him when I was young.”

“And Alina... well, you know how that ended. It was a fake marriage with real feelings. I had feelings for her but her heart belonged to someone else and in the end, she chose someone else over me.” stated Nikolai softly with an air of unguarded vulnerability he had never shown anyone else because he was the King who could not afford to be weak. But sitting here on the grass with you, in your presence, he felt like the boy with fears and insecurities who had to carry on and didn’t have to pretend to be anyone as he cracked a grin “So you see... I’m not very lovable.”

Your eyes were heavy with quiet contemplation and thoughtfulness as Nikolai saw you stare at him and scoffed “You can laugh. Go on, laugh at me.”

You looked at him thoughtfully and quietly, with a protective glint in your eyes “Why would I laugh? I was just thinking about making a time machine so I can go back in time and make everyone who ever made you feel unloved and unlovable regret each moment of their pathetic lives.”

Nikolai let out a huff of laughter, as a smile appeared on his face without a thought feeling happy and taken aback in pleasant surprise “I didn’t know you cared so much about me.”

“You are loud, laugh a lot, tell silly jokes and have a heart full of hope in a world that won’t change easily. You’re exactly the kind of person I would scoff at and yet I find myself feeling quite protective over you and worrying about you.” you confided quietly and softly as your fingers twisted nervously, your beautiful eyes looking into his with something undecipherable “You’re nonsensical but I’ve grown to quite like you.”

Nikolai felt something surprising and warm rush through him, engulfing him in tidal waves as he suddenly felt conscious of being the object of your earnest and sincere gaze. He felt something that he had always strived and worked hard to be in everyone’s eyes... he felt special and extraordinary, seen and loved. This feeling felt all too consuming and yet he wanted more of it as he basked in its golden radiance and new sweetness that he was experiencing for the first time.

“Well... coming from you, it means a great deal.” whispered Nikolai, his foolish heart blooming with hope and adoration as whispers of the feeling that perhaps you could come to care for him in time crowded him and then smiled widely “It certainly is an improvement in our relationship from the last time where you called me an annoying, idiotic, lousy pig and pushed me into the lake.”

You laughed in amusement, your cheeks flushing a bright pink as your eyes sparkled in mirth and nervousness “Saints! I - I don’t know what I was thinking! I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was in need of a good swim.” joked Nikolai with an amused grin as he felt happy at being the person who made you laugh in joy and sparkle in happiness.

You laughed and Nikolai swore that he would walk through hell just to hear you laugh so freely, so merrily as you shook your head at him with an apologetic look in your eyes “I - I mean, I wasn’t myself that day. I was having a really bad day and I was angry and hurt and when you said all those - when you said all those really sweet things to tease me - I just felt nothing but rage and I took it out on you. I am truly sorry.”

“You’re always forgiven.” said Nikolai softly and gently as he looked at you mindlessly picking flowers growing on the ground “Why were you angry that day? What’s your story?”

“Fake marriage with real feelings but it ended in heartbreak.” you replied with a wide grin but there was sadness and pain written all over your face “It’s not very happy.”

“Well I have all the time in the world for you, so go ahead, I’m listening.”

Nikolai smiled when you cracked a smile and watched you twist your fingers nervously and hug your knees “It’s the same story. It feels like a long time ago but I honestly thought I would never fall in love because its silly and stupid. But when I first met the enigmatic, mysterious and clever devil by the name of Kaz Brekker.”

“Just imagine it. An impressionable, young girl, new to Ketterdam and suddenly the Bastard of the Barrel drops into my life and he is clever, infamous, dangerous, kinder to me than anyone in my life has been, appreciates every little thing about me. He made me feel important and seen. Imagine what that does to a lonely girl.” you said softly and quietly, your voice trembling with sadness and heartbreak, with a trembling weak smile.

“I fell in love with him before I even knew it. He asked me to pretend to be his wife and because I was so stupid, I agreed because I loved him. And I thought as time passed, that it wasn’t an act on his part because it felt like he genuinely loved me back too. That there could be a chance for a happy ending. But people like me never get happy endings because Kaz Brekker never loved me, I was just an investment, a means to an end to achieve his goals.” you told Nikolai with tears of pain and heartbreak glimmering and falling down your cheeks as you choked back on a sob “And I didn’t expect it to hurt this much... but my heart is broken, and everything hurts so much.”

Nikolai’s heart wrenched in despair and distress as you let out a sob of heartache and heartbreak “And I hate him! I hate him so much! But I hate myself because I let myself believe that he loved me too! Because I loved him through everything, through his worst but he never chose me me at all. Kaz was using me and I was a fool to think I could ever be loved!”

Nikolai couldn’t bear your grief any longer as he wrapped his arms around you comforting you as he let you cry into his chest, your sobs racking your body with grief and heartbreak as you held onto him for dear life. Nikolai stroked your hair gently and rubbed your back soothingly, whispering soft and comforting words of solace and truth that you were loved more because he couldn’t bear your cries of pain, anger, hate and heartbreak that had been bottled up for so long. It physically hurt him to see you so broken but he held you in his arms because he wanted to be the person to hold you up and stand by you through your darkest times.

Nikolai gazed at your tear stained face as he gently brushed away the tears from your cheeks “Kaz Brekker is an idiot. He’s a fool not to fall in love with you.”

“Why are you crying?” you asked Nikolai in curiosity and Nikolai realized that he had been crying too.

“I don’t know. I felt your pain, your heartbreak and if I could take it and make it all mine, I would. I hate to see you in such pain, I hate to seeing you cry even though you are really pretty when you cry.” said Nikolai confessing shyly blushing faintly as you smiled up at him in surprise and then sighed as he confessed sincerely to you who was looking at him curiously “The truth is life as the King is not easy for me. In fact, it has been hard and there are days when my pain and exhaustion threatens to sink me into the quicksand. But I guess my life is much easier and lighter when I share my burdens with you.”

You smiled through your tears as you sniffed “I’m sorry I - I’m really sorry I cried and put all of this on you. You have enough on your plate -”

“I like worrying about you.” said Nikolai immediately as his fingers brushed gently across your cheek wiping away your tears, his skin tingling at the contact with your soft skin “I want to worry about you because I like you more than anyone in this world.”

Nikolai was delighted to see the faint blush coloring your cheeks but your eyes were still full of heartbreak of sadness and pain as your voice cracked as you placed your hand on your chest “This hurts like hell... Everyone close to me in my life is in a happy relationship and now... and I thought I could have happiness and love too. But I’m beginning to think that I don’t have my happy ending”

“No! That is not true. Take it from the Lantsov Prince who has been dumped by the Sun Summoner and suffered crushed feelings... it’s not true.” replied Nikolai immediately with reassurance and honesty as he placed his hand on your shoulder gently and comfortingly and he saw you crack a small faint smile.

“It just feels like this pain is eternal and infinite... it’s never going to end.” you replied your voice trembling with aching pain and hurt as you let out a small sob and sniffed looking at Nikolai whose face was etched with gentleness and adoration.

“Well, that’s what I said about being shot for the first time in the war, exiling my parents and having my heart crushed by a Saint but the pain did and will end.” replied Nikolai quietly in a matter - of - fact tone that exuded simple honesty and reassurance as he looked at you sincerely with vulnerability and affection and felt shy as he saw you gaze at him curiously in concern and admiration.

“Now... the thing is you have such bravery and strength to be vulnerable and open your heart to compassion and love. You feel your emotions deeply and even though it hurts you, it’s a good thing because so many people numb themselves on feeling and miss out on the good things in life.” said Nikolai sincerely and truthfully as he gazed at you, honesty and kindness gleaming in his hazel eyes as you held your breath listening to him. “

Nikolai’s hand dropped to your hand and tentatively sought permission to hold it and he felt electric when you tentatively and gently intertwined your fingers with his as he squeezed your hand comfortingly “You are right now nursing a broken heart but I believe you will heal, rise through the ashes and walk to the other side stronger than ever. Don’t close your heart to love and pain. The joy is worth the pain.”

You looked at him through the tears in your eyes, feeling grateful for his warm and charming presence surprised by his wisdom he hid behind the charming façade of a boy king “It just - I don’t understand. Why doesn’t Kaz love me back? What’s so wrong with me that he won’t love me back?”

“Nothing! Nothing is wrong with you! Saints, you are perfect!” exclaimed Nikolai in honesty and sincerity feeling disbelief and hurt at the thought of you thinking that you were short of perfection when you were the most beautiful, wonderful person he had ever met.

“You’re just saying that because you are always nice to me.” you retorted sharply and sassily as you shook your head in doubt and self - loathing. “You don’t even know me.”

“You’re right... I don’t know you.” said Nikolai quietly and thoughtfully because that hurt. It hurt Nikolai deeply that you didn’t see how Nikolai saw every crook and crevice of you when no one else cared to look at the little things that made you special “I don’t pay attention to anything you do.”

“I don’t know that you love Nina like your own sister and though you argue with each other, you want her to be proud of you. I don’t know that you lend a helping hand to the servants and comfort and listen to little children who look up to you with gentleness, mischief and the sweets you steal from the kitchen. I don’t know that when someone suggests something stupid and ignorant, you roll your eyes at them and speak your mind wisely and intelligently with a rather sharp tongue.” said Nikolai knowingly and passionately with a soft and affectionate glint in his hazel eyes as he gazed at you intensely full of adoration for you as your eyes widened in surprise “I don’t know that you love dancing and music but you don’t dance unless you are asked properly. I don’t know that you pretend to scoff pretty dresses but you are secretly thrilled at wearing them. I don’t know that you like reading romance, history and crime thrillers in the library until Genya has to drag you away from the library. I don’t know that you always listen patiently to David, not out of pity but sincerely because you are curious and consider him a friend. I don’t know that you are the only one who can get Zoya to eat a decent meal and have a nap.”

“And even though, I will say that I’m fine and try to make you leave me, you are going to walk me to my chambers and make sure I’m alright. Because that’s exactly the kind of person you are.” finished Nikolai honestly and sincerely as he gazed at you softly and gently, his heart full of love and passion only for you.

Your eyes had widened in surprise and you were certain your jaw had dropped as you felt paralyzed in shock and amazement at being seen by Nikolai of all people. You had thought his teasing was an infatuation, a silly game he liked to play to impress every girl but as you felt him gaze at you sincerely and intensely, you felt vulnerable and seen for who you truly were and the little things you thought no one noticed.

You threw your arms around him as you hugged him tightly because you were so scared that for the first time someone had noticed the small, ordinary, little things about you and cared to remember them. It terrified you that Nikolai cared so much about you because you didn’t feel the same about him. It was a new uncharted path that felt terrifying and yet you didn’t want to let Nikolai go. You wanted to hold onto him, hold onto the only person who terrified you with these new feelings, saw the parts of you that no one else did and made it easy to be vulnerable in a world where everyone and everything was cruelest to the weak.

“Nikolai...” you whispered, blinking back your tears of disbelief and amazement because it felt like you had been drowning for ages and now this beautiful boy had pulled you up and you could finally breathe.

“One day, you’ll find someone who loves you heart and soul and all this pain and tears and heartbreak will be just a memory.” whispered Nikolai as he held you tenderly as if you were the most precious, beautiful, fragile person he had the privilege of holding and you felt his silent reassuring promise that he would always be there for you.

“Promise?”

“I solemnly swear on my life and kingdom. In fact, I’ll bet my mother’s diamond necklace on it!” said Nikolai honestly with a bright and sincere smile as he lightly touched your cheek, breathless by your beauty “You’re smart, funny, kind, sharp and the best person I know. You can declare me right, wise, smart, kind, and handsome of all men in Ravka in your speech as bride when the day comes.”

You laughed in amusement as you leaned your head on Nikolai’s shoulder unaware that he was having a fit of fluttering butterflies in his stomach as he internally screamed like a little girl and you replied with a smile “I haven’t even thought of it. My wedding. What will it be like, do you think? Will you be there?”

“Of course, love. The groom can’t miss his own ceremony, now can he? It’s my solemn duty to take your breath away and take you as my lovely wife with a beautiful diamond -” replied Nikolai, his lips curving into a good natured grin as his heart beat a little faster at the thought of you marrying him.

He groaned with a laugh as you punched him in the arm but you were laughing “Can you be serious for once?”

“I can only do five minutes but for you I’ll try my best.” said Nikolai with a wink making you shake your head at him in amused exasperation.

“You are an idiot.” you replied fondly.

“And yet, you still hold my hand.” said Nikolai in a teasing manner but he felt a burst of warmth and shyness within him, because holding your hand in his felt like heaven on earth.

Nikolai expected you to remove your hand away from his but his heart swelled with surprise and hope when you squeezed his hand tightly with a warm smile as you looked at him fondly “And yet, I still hold your hand.”

And as both of you walked to the castle, Nikolai looked at you and knew that you were his one true great love and there was no going back from this moment. Your eyes sparkled with liveliness and you talked animatedly laughing good naturedly and Nikolai wondered if you knew that he was falling... falling deeply, madly, completely and utterly in love with you with no way out.

He had been told hope was dangerous. But the way you looked at him as you left him at his chambers, gave him a semblance of hope that he was not alone in his feelings and this could be the beginning of an adventure that came with a breathtaking view.

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da-rulah · 1 year

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Confessional - Cardinal Copia x F!Reader [Part 2]

Summary: Cardinal Copia is driven out of his mind when you disappear from the Ministry. He cannot find you anywhere, hasn't seen or heard a peep of you, and it's beginning to take its toll. But he's not the only one who's noticed your absence…

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Pathetic Copia, panty-sniffing kink (except it’s not panties...), masturbation (male), endless pining, a very scheming Terzo

A/N: I cannot believe the response I got to Part 1 of this fic... it was my first ever Ghost fic, and yet y'all blew it up! Thank you SO MUCH. 🥹 You wanted a part 2, so here's your part 2. And soon, part 3...

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3

How much torture can one man endure before he breaks? How long does it take for a man to go insane?

The Cardinal supposed it was six days worth. Six days of torture, and he was dangerously dangling over the edge of sanity... And if he was being honest with himself, the majority of it was self-inflicted.

He didn’t mean to torture himself. He never meant to debase himself so, and somehow managed a full six days before he gave in the first time. And if you hadn’t disappeared off the face of the earth, perhaps the guilt that had made a permanent home in the pit of his stomach would have been enough to stop him – but just those first six days of not seeing nor hearing anything of you around the ministry were enough to drive him utterly demented.

But the longer he went without seeing your pretty face in the halls, or hearing your sweet voice when you sang at Mass with your siblings, or being in any kind of proximity to you, the more confident he became that he would never be found out. You would never catch him in his filthy little secret...

The first time had been a mistake – or so he told himself. Something he did in the heat of the moment, one he couldn’t control and felt utterly miserable over after.

Those six days he had been on high alert, hoping to see you in the halls or in his seminars but nothing. He wanted so badly to apologise to you, his shame of what he felt was him corrupting your sweet nature in that damned booth but he’d not been given the chance. You’d simply evaporated...

And so, after he had done a lap of the ministry in search of you one last time on the evening of the sixth day, he sulked back to his quarters trying with all his strength not to pull his greying hairs from his temples in frustration. He slammed the door behind him, frisbeeing his biretta from his head and to some distant corner of the room before he threw himself down on his bed with a huff.

After a few deep breaths to calm his irritation, he stood and shook the coat of his cassock off, tossing that somewhere else in the room – frankly, he could care less where it landed, as well as the shoes he kicked off. He sat back down against the headboard of his bed, head laying back against the wall as he stared at the ceiling, closing his eyes for a moment of peace.

But since confessional, he hadn’t been granted a moment of peace at all. No, his mind was occupied.

Whether it was the guilt, the shame, the unprofessionalism... or on better days, the images you had planted in his mind of your sinful dream... even the sounds of your mewls and whines from beside him and the smacks to the wood as you’d met your end, kicking out involuntarily as you’d climaxed... His mind was always occupied.

That evening had been no exception, his mind wandering over those pretty little noises you had made, the way you’d said his name almost breathlessly, the sounds of your fingers sliding through your slick as you practically cried for him.

The Cardinal found himself once again struggling to control himself – he'd managed to for the last six days but by this point he was just exhausted by it all. How could he hold off anymore? How could he sit here and torture himself with vivid memories of you fucking yourself beside him without allowing himself to indulge in the privacy of his own quarters?

His thick cock had already swelled in the confines of his pants, as it had many times since your encounter but this was the first time he would allow himself the depravity of actually touching himself to the thoughts of you. It had felt too filthy, too impolite to you to do such a thing and yet after six fucking days of no interaction at all, he was too frustrated to deny himself a moment longer.

His gloved hands slid to his belt, skilfully unbuckling with one hand as the other palms himself through the material. Before long, he had freed himself, and the black leather of his glove was swallowing his cock over and over as his hand stroked languidly, a low hum emanating from deep within his chest.

How he wished it was your far softer and more delicate hand, perhaps your mouth if he was lucky enough. But this was the best he could do, pathetically stroking himself behind closed doors to the mere memory of you. What he’d give to worship you, to feel you and to taste you, to smell you again.

His eyes shot open, his mind cruelly reminding him of the unwitting gift you had left behind... He looked guiltily to the side of his bed, to his bedside cabinet where if he was not mistaken, the drawer knob was glowing at him. But hey, that could just be his descent into madness...

And it was that madness that had made him do the unthinkable, right from the beginning. He had kept that glove of yours – the glove you had left in such haste, the glove you had baptised with your juices. It sat in his bedside cabinet, under a stack of old Beano comic books he hid from plain sight in case a member of the clergy came to his chambers and judged him for the one thing he kept with him from his childhood.

He’d be lying if he said that it had sat there and been forgotten about; it certainly hadn’t. But tonight was the first time he had considered retrieving it at all... He couldn’t, could he? He certainly shouldn’t... But his mind had been swimming with could haves, should haves and would haves for six fucking days and frankly, he was done with it.

To hell with it.

He reached over to the drawer and yanked it open, shoving the old Beano comics to one side and rifling until he found that discarded piece of lace he’d stolen. He rolled it in his hand for a moment, the other resuming the slow strokes to his cock. He shut his eyes again, head lolling back as he stroked, over and over, moans rolling from his half-painted lips between gentle curses and whispers of your name.

As if the Cardinal couldn’t become anymore unhinged in his blissful state, he brought your glove to his face, catching the lasting aroma, a delicate bouquet of sin. He growled to himself like an animal, fist pumping himself to the point of no return, his cock angry and red, profusely leaking over his own gloved hand. His abdomen tightened, a garbled groan muffled by his fist pushing the lace against his face, cock jumping in his hand.

It was quite pathetic really, how quickly Copia came as soon as he pulled that glove from its’ hiding spot. He’d made a mess over his shirt, whimpering into the glove as spurts of his seed landed as far up as his chest. And yet, he continued to fuck his fist into overstimulation, cock pitifully attempting another orgasm as more cum simply dribbled over his glove this time around. Even then, he only stopped himself because the stimulation was becoming painful... Although he was sure he probably deserved that.

As he sat limp on his bed, the haze of his release fading quickly as realisation of what he’d just done hit him. With tired limbs, he balled the glove back up and threw it back into the open drawer beside him, smacking the drawer shut in anger at himself. How could he be so debauched? So disrespectful?

So perverted.

It was bad enough he was thinking of you. It was bad enough that he was masturbating over the thought of you. But that... he wasn’t sure he could forgive himself for acting this way. It didn’t matter how he felt about you, didn’t matter that he was transfixed on you or infatuated with you. This should never have happened...

And yet, there was a next time. And another time after that.

In fact, as the days passed and turned into weeks – still without so much as a glimpse or a whisper of you around the ministry – he found himself going back to that drawer more and more. The last time was never the last time, no matter how much he promised to stop, to behave himself.

There was always a next time...

You’ve been hiding for almost four weeks. How you were getting away with it, you weren’t sure... Perhaps you had memorised your Cardinal’s movements a little too well in the time your fantasies had begun to take hold, and so now you were able to avoid every possible encounter that may have been.

After all, how on earth could you face him? You were absolutely mortified at yourself and the thought of being anywhere near the Cardinal made your skin crawl... Not because you despised him, or held any animosity towards him at all – how could you, possibly? - but because you felt like a fool; an idiot who got too caught up in the moment, confessed something that overstepped every conceivable boundary a person can set, and had managed to make the poor Cardinal stoop to your pathetic level.

You had utterly humiliated yourself.

In your efforts to avoid Cardinal Copia, you had in turn ended up avoiding most of your duties as a Sister of Sin. No seminars, no services... You had skipped on your work duty more often than not for fear of bumping into him in the hallways, faking some terrible stomach flu for longer than could be believed.

You had even skipped out on Black Mass – a big no-no in the Ministry. Unless you were on the reaper’s death bed, you were to be at Black Mass.

As the service was held, Papa Emeritus III took to his pulpit and noticed immediately that one of his siblings was missing. How disappointed he had been to come to realise it was you who hadn’t showed. You were one of his favourites, so sweet and virtuous. Whilst he did enjoy corrupting his Sisters of Sin, somehow he always felt you had been off limits... Still, a harmless flirt to keep you on your toes had never hurt. His soft spot for you was nothing if not platonic and playful.

The Cardinal had noticed your absence at Black Mass also, and frankly it concerned him. Had he driven you out? Had you left the Ministry altogether? He’d not seen you for three fucking weeks, and he couldn’t help but feel a panic rise in his chest, that ever-nagging guilt growing into a nauseating feeling of utter self-hatred. He’d never forgive himself if you had left...

After Mass had ended, Terzo grabbed the Cardinal for a quiet chat in his office. He knew damn well that you never missed a Latin seminar, that Copia likely saw you more often than most.

“Cardinale, forgive the intrusion on your plans for the day. I’m sure you have places to be,” he began as he sat behind his desk. Copia stood in front of him, wringing his hands nervously. Part of him wondered if he were to be chastised for his behaviours, as if somehow Terzo had known... Had you told him what had happened at confessional? Did you tell him you were leaving... because of him?

“Non è un problema, fratello. (It’s no problem, brother.) My only plan was to prepare for the week’s seminars.” His voice wavered slightly, and yet Terzo never noticed as it wasn’t unusual. Copia tended to be a little nervous around Terzo. He looked up to him so much, always had... But to Terzo, Copia was the annoying little kid he would make eat the bugs as a ‘joke’ while he and his older brothers looked on and laughed. And all Copia had ever wanted was to be just like Terzo.

“I merely wondered if you had seen Sister _____ in your seminars lately? I noticed she wasn’t at Black Mass and... well, that’s not like her, is it?” Terzo asked, leaning on the desk on his elbows, waiting for an answer.

The Cardinal could feel a drop of sweat forming on his brow. This felt like a trick question, like Terzo was expecting something of him.

“Uhhh, I... I haven’t. It’s not like her, hai ragione (you’re right) .”

“Hmm,” he hummed, leaning back in his chair. “I wonder what the matter is? I’ll be sure to look out for her, make sure our piccolo topo (little mouse) is alright. Please let me know if you see her in the next few day, sì?”

Copia let out a quiet breath of relief, the conversation seeming to end without suspicion. “Sì, fratello. I will update you. Would you...” he stopped himself, wondering if this might be overstepping, implicating himself somehow, but deciding to continue, “would you mind letting me know too? If you see her, I mean...”

Terzo looked up at Copia with eyes narrowed and a smirk playing on his painted face.

“Why would you like to hear, Cardinal? Hai una cotta, eh? (You have a crush?)” he teased. Copia’s eyes widened, panic clear on his face. "N-no! No, I just... This is unlike her,” he panicked.

“I wouldn’t judge, Cardinal. She is a pretty young thing...” he mused, winding Copia up further just as he had since childhood.

“No, fratello... I mean, well, sì, she is but... I don’t...” Copia stumbled, making himself to be more obvious.

“He doth protest too much,” Terzo laughed, “I will tell you if I see our pretty little Sorella around. You can go back to planning your seminars, Cardinal.” Terzo waved his subordinate out of his office and gladly, Copia took the chance to leave with his head hanging low.

Outside the halls had quietened after the end of Mass. Copia leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath and wiping the sweat from under his biretta on his sleeve. He felt so burdened, so absolutely horrified at the thought that now even Terzo had noticed your absence in the ministry. God, he hated that he called you pretty... He hated that Terzo called you ‘piccolo topo’. His reputation proceeded him, and Copia would be damned if he got to corrupt you...

In the days after Black Mass, Copia tried desperately to find you around the Ministry – with no success. He would end up defeatedly walking back to his chambers late each night, having hoped that maybe he would find you in the kitchens or the library. If you had been trying to avoid him, perhaps you would be eating later, studying in the middle of the night... But nothing.

But at least he could go back to his room, to his bed, to your glove.

The knock at your dorm door remained ignored by you, forcing Sister Katia, your bunkie, to get the door with a roll of her eyes. She’s just about had enough of your shit, having to pull twice her weight lately to accommodate whatever this episode was. The only reason she hadn’t lost her cool at you was because she knew this wasn’t like you, and whatever was causing this – it had to be bad.

“______, it’s for you. A ghoul,” she sounds exasperated... Perhaps you should make the effort to at least see what the Ghoul wanted, praying to Sathanas that it had not been Copia who sent him your way.

You pulled yourself from your bunk, your depression-outfit of three-day old sweats and a faded old graphic t-shirt making even the Ghoul at the door look at you in vague disgust. He said nothing to you though, his eyes following an arm he stretched out, holding a note with a very telling red wax seal over the fold – a ‘III’ in roman numerals that screamed Terzo...

“Oh, shit,” Katia was not one for subtlety, clearly seeing the same wax stamp and realising that it was, in fact, a summons to visit Papa in his office the next morning. Dread filled you, the colour draining from your features... Papa only summoned Sisters of Sin for two things, and in your current predicament, both options felt like an option you would rather avoid.

He was either about to make a move on you, to have his way with you if you were to let him, or he was to chastise you and dish out punishment as he saw fit for your little disappearing act.

“Thank you, Ghoul. I uh, apologise... for my state,” you smiled weakly. He bowed his head slightly with a flutter of his eyelashes, as if to say ‘no problem, Sister’ - a ghoul of few words, this one... - and he turned to leave, walking down the hallways as Katia closed the door.

“Well, open it... You know Papa doesn’t mince his words. Are you in trouble, or about to get laid?” Katia smirked as she tried poorly to lighten the mood. You rolled your eyes and popped the wax off the paper, unfolding to read your summons.

“Sorella _______,

It has come to my attention that you have been missing from the ministry for quite some time now, your duties going abandoned.

Should this note find you well, I expect you in my office at 8am sharp with a very good explanation as to why.

I look forward to your company,

Papa Emeritus III”

Had you not thought of yourself as such a tiny little insignificant cog in the Ministry, maybe Terzo’s note wouldn’t have come as such a surprise to you – but knowing your Papa had noticed your absence and was, shall we say, less than impressed unnerved you.

“Suppose you’ll have to shower now,” Katia bumped your shoulder with hers. “Oh and wear that short habit with the red stitching you’ve got! You’ll need to butter him up a bit, by the sounds of it...” she winked, climbing into her bunk and picking up her discarded magazine.

Perhaps she was right... If nothing else, perhaps it may distract him just a little, to give you enough time to weasel your way into an excuse for your absence. Terzo could easily be swayed if you indulge him just a little, without having to compromise your own integrity.

Your hands shook as you lifted a fist to lightly knock on the large double doors of Papa Emeritus III’s office, fear setting in that you were about to have to fight for your place at the Ministry. Terzo was known to be ever so slightly more diplomatic than his brother’s, but a blatant disregard for duties always riled him up the wrong way – and in your depressed and embarrassed stupor, that was exactly what you had done for four weeks.

“Entra,” you heard from within, the deep timbre of his thick Italian accent sending a shiver down your spine.

You did as asked, barely opening to door to slink in as if hiding – like any sudden movement would alert him and have him pounce. You waited at the door, practically backed up against the wood and waited for instruction. He was furiously typing at his typewriter, the keys echoing around the stone walls until a loud ping sounded, and he pushed down the carriage release that had it loudly creaking back to its place. He looked up at you then, papal paint freshly adorned over his masculine features.

When he saw the fear on your face, the shame you already harboured, his features relaxed slightly – not that it gave you any relief to your anxiety.

“Sorella ______, how I’ve missed that pretty face in the halls, eh?” he smiled at you, monochrome gaze sweeter than you had expected. Sister Katia’s words circled your mind...

“You know Papa doesn’t mince his words. Are you in trouble, or about to get laid?”

While you prayed for neither, at least one was inevitable.

“Come, stand here for me, hm? Let me see you,” he beckoned you to stand before his desk, leaning on the wooden frame by his elbows.

Cautiously, you stepped forward, standing on the ornate rug between the two chairs he had facing him. He hadn’t invited you to sit, and you knew better than to do something you had not been asked of right now. “There, bellissima (beautiful)!” he leaned forward, outstretching a hand to pinch at the hem of your skirt, shorter than usual. He ran the material between his fingers, tracing along the red stitching, the hair of his knuckles tickling your upper thighs. It was only now you realised he wasn’t wearing his usual white gloves. You cursed Katia for this idea, hoping not to give the wrong impression. “I like this one, Sorella. The red stitching is....” he took a deep breath in, “quite something.”

“Th-thank you, Papa...” you stuttered. Terzo looked you in the eye, and sat back in his chair again.

“Do you know why I called for you, Sorella?” he asked, his fingertips meeting as he leaned back.

“I-I... I think I’m in some trouble, Papa,” you admitted, looking down at your feet, twiddling your fingers for something to focus on. “Sì, I’m afraid so. You see, I noticed that you were not at Black Mass on Sunday. It worried me, and so I spent a few days attempting to run into you, to perhaps see you in a seminar or the library but... poof, nowhere in sight,” he made a gesture with his hand, like a puff of smoke had left his palm.

You remained silent, biting your lip.

“Even Cardinale Copia has not seen you, so he tells me - his top student!” Your cheeks reddened at the mere mention of his name. “He seemed quite dismayed, actually...”

You swallowed nothing, gulping down the guilt that threatened to rise. You had caused that, upset your precious Cardinal with your desperate lewd actions. Probably made him reconsider what little authority he had in the Ministry, what with the overshadowing of the Papas.

“Do you wish to tell me what has forced you to become a mere figment of your poor Papas imagination, tesoro?” he pouted dramatically, a flirtatious glint in his pale white eye. His approach was somewhat light-hearted, and that unnerved you more than if he had been yelling at you. Was he not angry at you?

“I... I’m sorry, Papa. I haven’t quite been... feeling myself,” you all but whispered, head hung low in shame.

“Oh, tesoro...” he stood from his chair and rounded the desk quickly, a look of pity and worry etching deeper lines into his paint than usual, “are you sick?”

He stood close to you – so close you could feel his warm breath grazing over your facial features – and placed the back of his bare hand to your forehead, testing your temperature. You stilled, not a single breath falling from past your lips as you couldn’t help but watch him closely. You could understand why many a sister before you had fallen for his wiles before you, but whilst he made you nervous, you simply could not fathom the idea of intimacy with Papa Terzo. Not when Cardinal Copia still occupied your mind...

“Hmm, you’re warm enough, sorella. Not a thing wrong with you physically, eh?” he winked and curled his finger under your chin, stepping back and sitting against the edge of his desk.

“N-no, I’m quite alright physically.”

“Then what is troubling you, mia cara?”

Your palms felt clammy, the weight of the truth on your shoulders almost unbearable. There was no way you would ever tell Papa the truth, you’d burst into flames on the spot out of sheer humiliation. No, you were to keep that to yourself.

But words failed you, and before you knew what you were doing, your eyes had filled to the brim with tears, silently spilling down your reddened cheeks.

Terzo panicked... The only tears he was used to were that of the sister on her knees or in his bed for him, and entirely pleasure induced. But this was you, and you were neither of those things to him. He rushed to you, his hands hovering somewhere around your head as he contemplated what to do, how to help you. Hugging you felt unprofessional, awkward almost. He settled for wiping your tears from your cheeks with his thumbs as you began to sob.

“Mi dispiace (I'm sorry), Papa...” your thoughtful use of Italian swelled his heart, “I... I’ve been in a dark place. I will do better, I promise. A-and I'll take whatever punishment is fitting.”

Terzo contemplated for a moment. Sister Imperator had been quite insistent on some kind of penalty, especially for missing Black Mass. They had only a brief conversation on the matter when having their weekly meeting, in which Imperator suggested he decide on a fitting punishment himself, but that one should be given.

But you looked so broken. Your behaviour was so unlike you, so out of character and whilst he didn’t know the cause of this low period, he was no stranger to the idea of depression taking hold for no reason whatsoever. He put it down to that – merely a chemical imbalance in your pretty little head. In good conscience, he could not punish you for the hole you had been in recently. At least, not without giving you a chance to bounce back.

“Sorella, there is no punishment for you today. But I must ask you to return to your ministerial duties, sì?” You were stunned to silence – that you had not been expecting.

“I’ll have to keep an eye on you, be sure you attend seminars and Black Mass again this coming Sunday. But you must find an outlet, sì? Something good for the soul. And if I find you have not been attending...” he drew in a deep breath, puffing his chest out, “...Sister Imperator will have my balls in a jar, no?” he laughed. “Don’t make me look like un debole idiota (a soft idiot), tesoro.”

You nodded quickly, promising you would do your duties.

“Brava ragazza (good girl),” he smirked, the flirtatious look back in his eyes. “You can start with today’s Latin seminar. The Cardinale will be pleased to see you!” His eyebrows pumped upwards twice suggestively, and rounded his desk once again, sitting back down and typing on his typewriter once more.

“You are dismissed, Sister. Ready yourself for your Cardinale,” he smirked, eyes focussed on his paper.

Your blood ran cold at his words, the only heat between your thighs as you were forced to picture yourself literally readying for him... You wondered if the innuendo had been intentional or not; for your own sanity’s sake, you had to choose not.

You couldn’t bare to imagine the repercussions of Terzo, your Papa, knowing of your little... predicament.

But you left as he dismissed you, dread filling in the pit of your stomach at the notion you had to not only face the ministry again, but you had to face him.

Your Cardinale...

A/N: Again, thank you guys SO MUCH for reading and loving part 1. I hope you love part 2 just as much, and look forward to part 3... (coming real soon, i promise!) In the meantime, you can submit drabble requests HERE

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falling-heights · 27 days

Text

Yandere Geto x Non-Sorceror Pt. 2

"The bear loved the deer, it was obvious.

It ripped the deer's throat out,

and then licked the dying deer

with the most passionate affection."

Part 1 ▪︎ Part 2

It sounded like a knife against rope in the darkness, grinding, grinding, grinding away.

The sounded wafted the room, it raped what little sanity was left in your mind. That grinding, grinding sound that seemed to chisel a hole in your skull. It echoed in the room constantly, at all hours. What more were hours to you now? Perhaps it was only moments. It was so hard to tell in the black room. You had stared into nothing for so long you swore you could see colors in the abyss, dancing with the shadows.

Snapping twine.

Grinding against rope.

It had been longer than any time before since you had seen that man. Almost long enough to almost miss him, as much as you hated him. The one with the sweet voice, who brought only pain, only torment. The reason you were sitting in a wet, concrete prison. Did you prefer the rats? It seemed you were just trading one form of torture for another.

Irregular scratches that sounded like mindless chewing.

Grinding against stone.

You could not count the days anymore, in the beginning perhaps, but you weren't sure whether you stopped because you lost track of the days, or if you lost the ability to count. Hours seemed like days now, you did not bother. It was more or less a reminder of how much you were losing.

Days, months. How many more were left? How many more would you see, and be forced to live through? Would this be everything you had left until you finally died? And what did you even have left anymore? Your youth would be slipping soon, and your beauty was already certainly gone.

You were not sure any living thing could come out of this looking recognizable to what it once was. You could not see yourself, not since he put you in here. Yet, you felt alien, changed, mutated into some gnarly creature. Your hair was matted beyond much help. You weighed a fraction of your original size. At times you would trace your ribs and spine, no longer surprised by how hollow they felt, nor by how tight your skin felt across your frame. Like well-stretched canvas, dry and aged.

Tooth against stone.

Grinding against sto- no, that wasn't it was it?

It had grown fervent with your thoughts, the sound, more eager. It grew louder, almost violent. Closer to the prize than ever before. Scratching, scratching away. The noise was wetter than you noticed before, more like chewing.

Snapping rope, like ripping tendons.

Teeth grinding against bone.

Your sweat-drenched body shot upright, suddenly awake from the dream you didn’t know you were having. You felt flesh ripped open above your ankle, and that awful awful sound of chewing. Fear seized your being the moment you felt pain, and your hand instinctively lashed out. Your palm connected with wet fur, and something cried out in a small screech as it hit the adjacent wall, but you could not see.

Those goddamn rats.

How could you have slept that? How tired were you, how weak?

When was the last time you had anything to eat?

You did not know anything anymore. You wanted it to just be a nightmare. You wanted to wake up and know that you still have a life, something worth wanting.

Huffing, wide-eyed, and begging that by some miracle your eyes might adjust to the pitch black, you mustered your strength and shoved your body back, soon finding a cold stone wall. Letting it guide you, you crawled into a corner, curling up to somehow hide. Your leg throbbed but you dared not touch it.

The air stilled as you listened above the sound of your ragged breathing, waiting for something to make itself known. A silent standstill between you and the hungry little beasts that came before you. Those who had known this life much longer than you. What more were you to them? Food? Trespasser? Fellow prisoner? All of them, it should seem.

The stale air was interrupted by the distant sound of steps descending stairs. Heavy, trodden, pounding through you like a drum.

Light flooded the room as the only door opened, and you watched the rat that had sampled flesh scamper off through a small crack in the wall, and you watched it bitterly, thinking, if only you were that small, if only there were a way out.

He walked in with a smile more real than you had ever seen before. He was not drunk like you had hoped. And for once, he was not alone.

Two bodies accompanied him, and your eyes widened when you saw just how young they were. Their heads were dipped, hands laid out plain in front of them against their drapes. The two girls walked behind him reverently, in an almost ceremonious fashion. Their matching yukatas did not ease your wariness. A strange air of formality enshrouded all three souls that stood over you.

The girl- child? to his left stifled her stiff actions to cover her face with her sleeve, though you could still see her nose wrinkling in disgust. The other seemed to swallow her own breath, and her eyes were widened with nausea.

"It's a pitiable sight, isn't it?" Geto hid his amused smile with his hand, eyebrows scrunched in a faux display of sympathy. You didn't know how your state did not affect him, how he could carry himself as he did while those around him seemed to gag on the air itself. "Well, no matter. It seems we've reached the end of this entertaining affair. Mimiko and Nanako will assist in getting you ready."

Ready? Ready for what?

He only smiled down at you warmly, oddly proud, a hint of pride behind his slanted eyes. Your lips parted to sound the words to your question, but all you mustered was a sharp inhale. Glaring at the man from your corner, you shut your mouth apprehensively. You did not want to speak to this man, to give him the satisfaction of another lecture, but the strange nature of this left you feeling uneasy. There was just something off about it.

He stood idly as you were dragged by the two girls from the safety of the corner. You did not have much strength to resist, and you realized that perhaps your neglect was intentional, to ensure that you would take this easily. The rags from your limbs were ripped off, and buckets of water were dumped onto your body. It was cold at first, and your body grew rigid as you gasped for air at the sensation. But then the girls knelt to your level, soaking the dried blood and dirt off with sponges drenched in hot water. Soap leaked into the bloodied bites on your ankle, and you cringed in pain as it stung. All while your tormenter watched from the other side of the room.

Your eyes met his for most of the session, defiant and indignant, angered by shame at this exposure to him and your inability to fight it. His were more indifferent to your suffering, nothing new, but he seemed more calm than what you were familiar with. No homilies, no veiled hatred, no more shame in his old hedonistic ways. He simply stood from a distance and watched, waiting patiently until you were clean.

A sigh of relief nearly escaped your lips at the foreign feeling of nothing on your raw skin. The blood had been washed away, along with the grime caking your body. It made you feel a little more human than you had been allowed for quite some time.

An undone kimono has draped over your hunched figure, finally covering your body from prying eyes. An ivory comb was raked gently through your hair, though you winced visibly whenever the teeth caught on a matted tangle. It took ages to finally smooth the mess on your head.

"My, how close you are to looking like something almost human," The young girls stopped their actions, shying away from the man, and leaving you covered, but still vulnerable in an undone kimono. Geto approached, seemingly more alert with a wide smile that stretched across his face. He then turned, sternly glaring at the adolescents. "You may take your leave now, I have no more need for your assistance."

A bottle of some sort of spirit was held delicately in his hands. When the girls finally moved, you noticed a small wooden table sat in the middle of the room, glasses on either side and a singular plate.

When did he even set this up?

All common sense however soon left when your eyes landed on what was on the plate. Fresh bread, fluffier than the clouds you once dreamed of. Some kind of beef glazed in what you hoped was gravy. That singular plate looked like the closest thing to heaven that you had seen in a long time, and your mouth watered, desperate for a taste. And there was only one thing in the way, the very man that physically stood between you and that moment of paradise.

You soon had to give your attention over to him when his body blocked the vision of the table entirely. He had placed the bottle on the table as he passed by, and he stooped now in front of you, on your level. He was close, eyes boring into your face, examining your features painstakingly, as though looking for error. His gaze did not remain on your face as it trailed down to the rest of what skin was exposed to the naked eye.

They stopped, uncomfortably focused on the loose drapes that covered your chest. A hand approached, silently prying at the cloth with his index finger, almost toying with it in a manner that made you nauseous. He soon dropped his hand once he seemed to get bored with teasing you, eyes connecting with yours.

"Had you been born under more forgiving circumstances, this could have been easily avoided," He said lowly, he seemed to be considering things, turning over possibilities in his head, before he conceded with a shake of his head and a shy grin. He stood suddenly, stepping out of the way so that the table was in your direct path. "I apologize for making you wait, you must be hungry."

You looked to him hesitantly with wide eyes, wondering briefly if this was some sort of trap, if he was only teasing you and would snatch the food away from you at the last moment, never to be tasted or savored. He simply cocked his head, motioning you to move, and you did not wait a moment more, practically lunging at the table and ripping into the food with your bare hands.

A moan nearly left your mouth the second the food met your tongue. Memories of a normal life flooded your mind. It reminded you of times you would spend with friends or lovers in restaurants well above what you could ever afford. Times that your father spent the whole day cooking for your overworked family. Things you would never know again. Tears sprang from your eyes briefly, both celebrating and mourning everything at once.

Geto seated himself across from you, watching in sick amusement as you ate with a vicious appetite. There was no silverware provided, no cloth to wipe your mouth or hands. He wanted a show, one which you eagerly gave. He wanted to make you look like a pig, and you did not protest, sacrificing a small moment of dignity for a privilege that may never come again.

As if you had ever cared what this man might think of you.

He only spoke once your appetite seemed quelled and your chewing slowed. Your eyes shot to the frosted glass bottle that he was holding earlier, as he picked it up once more. There was script on the label in a language you didn't understand; it was something you had never seen before.

"I have been waiting to open this gem since I found you," He sighed happily, twisting into the cork with a corkscrew. You were uncertain of where he had been hiding it, but you knew he wasn't nearly stupid enough to allow any sharp objects within your vicinity.

Maroon liquid was poured into the glasses parallel to you. The color was darker than most wines, and viscous, like nothing you had ever seen. This was no ordinary liquor.

"Drink, you must be parched," He said gently, as though he were treating a houseguest to something from his private collection. Though your stomach churned at the consistency of the liquid.

"What is it?" You asked. When you did not automatically take the glass, he moved it to your side of the small table expectantly. Though he did not answer at first, only looking at you with that same expectation. Unnaturally dark, it swirled and thrummed in the cup forebodingly. You only looked at it uneasily, there was nothing about it that seemed normal.

"You seem frightened by it," He commented, amused, as he poured it into his own glass. "I can assure you, this should not be the source of your fear. You may see this as an offering or a gift, it doesn't matter. The intent is unchanged regardless of what either of us call it."

"What are you offering?" Speaking nervously, you were unable to hide the tremor in your voice.

"I am giving you a brief chance to escape what you are about to witness," He finally answered. Your breath slowed, as you looked at him, lost on what to say or think.

How is it that he could be so calm, pretend to be courteous, after all that he had done to you alone? How much more has he done to think that this sort of interaction was normal?

"And we are celebrating, this may very well be the most important day of your life." He added when you only blinked at him. You perked up at this, morbid curiosity taking hold.

"What are we celebrating?"

"Your Ascension. To a higher being."

You didn't say it, you knew you didn't have to when his smile only grew, in a knowing smugness. How could you know it wasn't laced with some kind of drug or poison? You couldn't, and he would not provide the comfort of assuring you it wasn't.

"What's to come will only be harder for you if you refuse. It's your own choice to take what I am offering, but this is the only time that I will offer such charity."

What could you do in this situation? You could drink, and hope that it isn't tainted. There were really only two things that it could: a sedative, or a poison. If that were the case, then you had to decide if either were worth it, and what you might be risking if you refused it all together.

What could be gained by drugging you? It was hardly in your favor, you would be left vulnerable, open to whatever he wanted. You shuddered at the thought of this man taking advantage of you and being unable to fight it. Though, could you even now? You were weak, tired, half-starved to death. He could easily have his way, and all you would have to show for it is being present for it in the moment.

A sedative, at the very least, might allow you to escape whatever he had in mind. You greatly feared what his intent if he was willing to torture you sober. How much worse would it be if he was offering you a way out?

If it was a poison, then there was really only one path, one decided end for you. He could simply be offering you a way out instead of what was to come. Would that really be so bad? No more pain, no more torment. You could just swallow your will to live, go out on your own terms, and die knowing that this was the kinder option.

So, you exhaled and lifted the glass to your lips, feeling any hope of living through this drain along with the liquid in the cup, until both were empty, to the very last drop. He simply nodded and downed his own glass.

"Won't it affect you?"

He laughed. "You think me so weak as to let something like this affect me?"

His response left you feeling strange, in a way you didn't understand. What left you feeling worse was the rising dread in your body. How your heartrate quickened, how acid burned your throat, how horrifying it was to wait.

Geto was quick to move.

His hand swept over the table, brushing the empty plate and glasses to the floor to lean overtop of it. His hands grasped either side of your jaw, pulling you to meet him halfway. Fear struck your heart when his lips met yours, along with something far more sinister.

It was a gentle, innocent sort of kiss. The kind that you might expect from well-seasoned lovers. His thumbs softly caressed your skin as he held you there, savoring the moment for himself.

In that moment, you thought of your mother, and wondered if she had hoped that her daughter might have better luck. If she had hoped that you might have lived to experience all that she had as a daughter, wife, and mother.

It was beyond certain that you would never experience those things again. Regret settled in your gut as something else rose to your lips. Your body shot to the side of the table, as you pulled away from Geto and vomited the meal that was potentially your last.

He tutted, returning to his side of the table, with his chin resting on his hand. "That was quicker than I had hoped."

You looked to him as his face began to distort grossly, melting into the walls, and you along with it. The feeling was beyond anything you had experienced, death-like fear and euphoria dancing together in your mind. You were both floating and sinking, drowning and falling. And Geto was the one to catch you, cradling your head in his lap and pulling your face into his chest.

There was only one thing you could make out before you slipped into sleep.

"Your suffering will be over soon, pet," He pulled away just far enough to look into your eyes. They shone with admiration, as though looking upon your weak form in an entirely new light, as though you were now something completely different. "We will have what is owed to both of us in due time."

His lips kissed your forehead sweetly, whispering other nonsensical things to you until you were a limp body in his arms.

What could he have planned?

Looks like I'll need a part 3 for this one

Check out my other jjk stuff if you like this!

#yandere #jjk x reader #yandere jjk #yandere x reader #jujutsu kaisen #yandere geto #yandere jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #getou suguru #geto x reader #jjk hcs #yandere oneshot #jujutsu geto

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ghostboneswrites2 · 7 months

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Girl of Your Dreams || Part 1

New account! @ghostbones was banned! Transferring all my work here slowly!

Summary: Daryl's annoying female sidekick is pestering him.

18+ MDNI: WARNINGS: injury, aggressive Shane, profanity

You were no stranger to pain. The world had been unfair to you from the time you entered it, but this was a whole new level of torture. You had survived the wake of the apocalypse with your only friend, but when you encountered a group of those undead fucks, she didn't make it, and you were left to run for your life all on your own. You were fairly certain you lost the hungry corpses some time ago, but now you had a new dilemma: how to free yourself from a bear trap?

The metal dug into your flesh and crushed the bone beneath. You was beyond painful. You were shocked your cries didn't draw anything in to eat you, but you were ultimately alone until he came along. Wit the sleeves torn off a flannel shirt and a crossbow slung over his shoulder, he'd left the camp by the quarry that day to find some food, hopefully enough to feed everyone but chances of that were slim.

"Ya bit?" Was the first thing he asked, with that raspy voice you would come to find comfort in.

"Gee, I'm fine. Doesn't hurt at all. Thanks for asking." You shot back. A woman of sarcasm, something he could appreciate.

"Show me ya ain't bit and I'll get that thing off ya." He shrugged. You sighed.

"Not bit." You said, holding your bare arms up, showing him the sides of your neck, and finally lifting your shirt to show him a bite-free midriff. He nodded and knelt down on one knee, setting his bow to the side so he could properly dismantle the trap. You winced and sighed in relief at the release of pressure from your ankle. "Thanks." You breathed, pulling up the leg of your jeans to take a good look.

The bruising had already begun, and the flesh was chewed to bits. You went to stand but failed. The pressure on your ankle was too much.

"Great." You grumbled. "Real fuckin' nice."

"C'mere." He said, standing up now as he held his hand out to you. You took it, seeing little other options. Unless, of course, you wanted to wait for the next flesh-starved freak to come stumbling through.

"Thanks again." You grunted as you pulled yourself up. You managed to stand on one foot, but there was no way you could walk without aide.

"C'mon. Got a camp not too far from here." He told you. And there it was, the beginning. Of course the other campers didn't take so kindly to a new mouth to feed, especially one that could barely walk, but Daryl made sure you had your place, and that earned your respect. It also earned your kindness, which was hard to come by for anyone. You weren't the friendly type, more of the shut-up-and-don't-breathe-in-my-space type. Shane, most of all, was your least favorite. The whole self-proclaimed leader thing got under your skin fast, and he was the first to voice his concerns about your presence among the others. After all, he had a girl and a kid to look out for, which you'd come to find out later weren't even his, but his best friend's, who he told them was dead. He wasn't, though, and he showed up a couple weeks later. Glenn and the others brought him back instead of Merle, Daryl's brother.

Daryl was outraged to say the least, and when they went back for his kin, they only found a hand where he should have been. Walkers attacked camp the that night, when Daryl and the others were in the city, and you only fucked up your ankle more fighting the sons of bitches off. Still, you prevailed. You always did. You were a survivor.

In the following weeks, between burning and burying bodies, finding and escaping the CDC, and getting stranded on the highway only to wind up on a farm, you and Daryl had grown pretty close. You comforted him with your silent presence as he coped with the loss of his brother, and once you could walk again you aided in a lot of the search for Sophia.

You went with him on a particularly hot day, carrying the extra water for the two of you, telling him all about how you couldn't take anymore of Shane's pestering. Apparently now that Lori had pushed him away for Rick, he had taken up a newfound fondness of you and your smart mouth.

"It's like -- I tell the guy to fuck off and his heart eyes grow bigger." You complained. Scoffed a little laugh and shook his head. Not necessarily interested in your drama, but curious nonetheless. Any excuse to tell Shane off would've been a green light to him. You continued. "You know yesterday he tried to come in my tent when I was asleep?"

Daryl stopped walking and eyed you intently, waiting for more.

"Yeah, dude. I was asleep when it happened. Woke up to him running his hand up my thigh. So, if you notice any dark coloration around his eye, it's cause I kicked him. In the eye." You explained.

Daryl chewed on his lip and continued walking. You handed him some water to drink as you sipped some yourself. After pushing a little further he sighed.

"Let's take a break an' eat somethin'." He suggested. You happily obliged, sitting crisscross on the forest floor, unwrapping a napkin with some nuts and dried fruit for the two of you to share.

"He didn't hurt ya or nothin'?" He asked. You shrugged.

"If he did, I promise he'd have gotten more than a foot in his eye."

"Mm." He nodded. "You know I'd kill him, if he did."

"Awe, are you sweet on me Dixon?" You teased, grinning as you bumped his shoulder with yours. He glared at you.

"Ain't sweet on no one." He grumbled.

"Except me."

"Shut up."

"It's okay. I know you put that trap out to catch a girl like me. Lucky for you, I was dumb enough to step in it." You gloated. He got so flustered when you joked like that, but you enjoyed it. As gruff as he was, he was the shy type which made him all the more attractive. You loved a good mystery.

"Nah, I placed that trap out lookin' for the woman of my dreams an' got stuck with you." He joked. You gasped, mocking an appalled expression.

"You mean, I'm not the woman you always dreamed of?"

Actually, you kind of were, now that he thought about it. He'd need a woman that could handle his brother, and in the short time you spent with the man you handled him quite well. He needed a woman who didn't need to be coddled, a woman with a sharp tongue and an independent nature. Someone who didn't need him, who only kept him around because she liked him. You did check all those boxes.

"You first." He grunted.

"Me first what? Are you asking if you're the man of my dreams?" You asked. He shrugged, picking at the last of the food in his hands. "Well, I never dreamed of a man, to be honest. Just figured I'd find one, one day, that didn't get on my every last nerve."

"Did you?" He wondered.

"Nope." You laughed. "They all pissed me off. Except you. You're alright, I guess." You shrugged.

"Guess you ain't so bad." He returned the compliment, if you could call it that. You smiled sweetly, staring down at the crunchy brown leaves.

"Not bad at all, for someone you got stuck with." You said.

"Stuck? Nah. I'd have got rid of ya by now if I didn't want ya around."

"So you do like me."

"Didn't say that."

"Mmm. Ya kinda did." You pushed.

"What if I do? Don't change nothin'."

"Nope. It doesn't." You chirped, before leaning in close to him and whispering; "'Cause I already knew ya did."

He sighed and pushed you away, you chuckling in the process.

"Were you always this annoyin'?" He asked.

"Yes, indeed. I'm vexing by nature. Is that a deal breaker?"

"Depends how long it takes you to shut up."

"Oof." You winced. "That was cold."

"Please. You ain't that soft."

"Only for you, Darlina." You said. Normally he'd snap at anyone who called him that. Only Merle ever got away with it and that was mostly just due to the fact he had no energy to argue with Merle. Getting a reaction out of him would have only pushed Merle to say it more, anyways.

"You keep pushin' your luck, girl, and we're gonna have problems."

"Oh?" You raised your brows. "Do tell."

"Won't have to. I'll just show ya. Keep tryin' me and find out."

"Was that a threat? 'Cause I'll be honest with ya, you're just getting me excited."

He shot you a sideways glance, smirking a little at the suggestiveness of your comment. This girl ain't got no idea what she's gettin' into, he thought.

That night at camp, when Shane found you alone, adding your clothes form the day to the dirty laundry, Daryl was watching from afar.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into everybody." He began. "You've been out there with him. You can tell them there haven't been any leads. We're wasting resources and manpower, here."

"Sure! I'll do that!" You said with sickeningly sweet sarcasm oozing from your tongue. The prideful officer clenched his jaw tightly at your act of disrespect. "Only, I won't, because we've found two leads already."

"Oh, right, a doll he almost died for and a blanket in a cupboard." He scoffed. "What is it with you and him, huh? You out there fuckin'? Or do you really just enjoy wasting everyone's time and supplies."

"Everyone? Last I checked, it's just been me and him out there the last few days. Nobody else. And, even if we were fucking, it'd be none of your concern." You spat, stabbing your finger into his chest with malice. He gripped your wrist as you did so, hard, might you add. Tight enough that it actually hurt. You tried to yank you arm away to no avail. You were strong, but he was stronger.

"Let me go, asshole." You said through gritted teeth. He didn't. Instead he held you still and leaned his face close to yours.

"Let me make somethin' real clear to you, little girl--"

"There a problem?" Daryl asked, suddenly appearing behind Shane.

Shane grinded his teeth together, a blazing glare burning into you for only a second before he let go of your wrist and turned to Daryl. You held your wrist to your body, rubbing it.

"Nah. No problem." Shane said lowly before he stormed away, maintaining eye contact with Daryl for some time as he did so. When Shane was far enough for comfort, Daryl stepped over from you and grabbed your hand, looking over your wrist. It was still white with Shane's finger prints and he wouldn't be surprised if it bruised later.

"You alright?" He asked, letting your hand fall back down.

"Yeah." You nodded, watching as Shane disappeared into the darkness. "Thanks."

"C'mon." He told you, throwing his arm over your shoulder and leading you toward his own tent. "You're stayin' with me in case he tries anythin'."

"A sleepover? So soon? No dinner first?" You joked.

"Shut up." He said, holding his tent open for you to climb in. When you were inside, he followed, and made sure you had a place to get comfy. "This alright?" He asked, referring to his sleeping bag that he had completely unzipped and laid out flat like a palette.

"Perfect." You smiled, laying down on one side. He laid down on the other side, on his back. You were on your side, facing him, still rubbing your wrist. He took notice.

"Still hurt?" He asked.

"No, actually. It's just weird. I can still feel his hand around me, you know?"

"Well he won't get ahold of ya in here." He told you. You smirked.

"I know."

"You know?"

"Uh-huh." You nodded, smugly. "'Cause you wont let anything happen to the girl of your dreams."

He scoffed, laughing silently to himself as he shook his head, eyes on the ceiling of the tent.

"Whatever, (Y/N). G'night."

#daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl x female reader

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nanowrimo · 11 months

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Write Meow! 4 Writing Tips Cats Teach Us

Did you know cats have a lot of wisdom about the writing process? It's because of their cat lifestyles! NaNo Participant Megan Jenkins lets us know what our wise cat friends can teach us about writing.

“Cats are too human-like,” my friend complained while explaining to my cat-lady-self why she’s a dog person. I laughed, but after pondering my cat’s behavior, I realized just how much cats can teach us about becoming a better human, and more importantly, a better writer. (Arguably.)

Here are a few writing lessons we can learn from cats.

1. Have a Routine

As someone who rolled her eyes at this advice for years, I still cannot believe that my cat hoodwinked me into a morning routine.

My cat was right though.

Writing for 15 minutes during my cat’s breakfast has me writing more than ever before. While 15 minutes may not seem like a lot, giving yourself prompts for the next session and having consistent sessions helps you accomplish more than you would think.

Also, cats are great accountability partners. If you stray from their routine, they will meow loudly and slap you with their paw. (Or is that just my cat?)

2. Take Breaks

Before my cat, my writing process was to write for hours at a time on a random weekend day. This process was exhausting and made me feel like I had to block an entire day for writing, which is becoming increasingly impossible.

However, cats inherently know the importance of taking breaks and stepping away from screens, which is why they sit in front of our keyboards and computers when we spend too much time on them (I assume).

One way to remember to take breaks is to participate in writing sprints, in which writers write together for a set time.

For any fellow introverts, the Pomodoro Technique, in which you work for 25 minutes then break for 5 minutes with a longer break after four rounds, has been shown to increase productivity.

You might hesitate to try sprints or Pomodoro like I did because you love to emerge yourself in your writing for hours. However, I have found that both methods have built my endurance, allowing me to write longer.

Plus, the frequent breaks to entertain my cat prevent her from hijacking my keyboard.

3. Prioritize Meals

Cats are grazers, meaning they eat several small meals throughout the day, which they do not like to miss.

Unlike my cat, I skipped meals all the time. I couldn’t be like Pippin in The Lord of the Rings asking for second breakfast while on an important quest!

However, modeling my cat, I now prioritize my eating. While it may not work for everyone, eating throughout the day gives me energy to write after work, not just rewatch The Lord of the Rings.

Since you are likely not on a quest to eliminate all evil, try prioritizing eating, like cats (and hobbits) do, and see how it impacts your writing.

4. Focus on the Present

Do you sometimes focus so much on the past or the future that you forget about the present? I do. With NaNoWriMo especially, I tend to over-plan and dwell on any minor failures.

Cats don’t do this. Cats live in the present, and while cats learn from their past, they do not dwell on their failures or worry about the future. Instead, cats deal with problems when they arise.

Similarly, do not torture yourself if you have a bad writing day (or week or month) or worry about every what-if. Instead, use the past to improve your current writing session.

As NaNoWriMo begins, I hope what I have learned from cats’ behavior helps remind you to have a healthier relationship with writing, which is ultimately the goal of NaNoWriMo. Besides the 50k.

Megan is a business risk and control advisor at a financial institution. The rest of her time, she spends dreaming of fantastical places. Her love for language led her to obtain a BA in English with a concentration in professional writing and an MA in Technical Communication and Rhetoric. When she is not writing, reading, or editing, she also enjoys traveling, watching movies, and spending time with her family and cat, Sophie. Connect with her on Linkedin or Goodreads!

Photo by Pixabay

#nanowrimo #writing #writing advice #writing tips #writer's life #by nano guest #megan jenkins

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delicatebarness · 4 months

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bring him home | chapter three

Summary: How has it been a whole year already?

Warning: MCU Spoilers. Mentions of Grief. Violence. Knives. Injury.

Word Count: 1376

Spotify Playlist | Tips

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: I love Rocket, okay?

The first anniversary of the Snap, the second most difficult day of your life. Standing before the ‘Wall of the Vanished’ in Brooklyn, your eyes locked on a single name that meant everything to you. ‘James “Bucky” Barnes’. His name began to blur as tears welled up in your eyes, every letter was a reminder of the loss you were still struggling to accept.

You woke up that morning with a heavy heart, the weight of the anniversary pressed down on you. As if you remind you of the silence that had followed that day, the city seemed quieter.

The journey to Brooklyn was blurred as your memories of Bucky, his laugh, his smile, his stare, replayed in your mind.

The ‘Wall of the Vanished’ was a structure, a monument of collective grief. Every city and county had built their own, a testament to the billions who had disappeared without a trace. As you approached, others were standing, some in silent reflection, others weeping as their fringers traced the names of their loved ones.

It felt like a punch from The Hulk as you reached Bucky’s name, whispering it under your breath. As if saying it softly enough could somehow bring him home. Reaching out to touch the cold stone, you felt the roughness under your fingertips. You couldn’t believe that a year had passed since your world changed forever.

The memory of his tortured cries haunted your dreams, even into your teenage years. Some years had passed since that harrowing day, and you were not allowed to be trained by him afterward. As time went by, you knew you had to escape. You bided your time with your older sister Natasha, feigning obedience while secretly plotting. You seized the moment as soon as the opportunity arose, slipping through the cracks of their iron grip and disappearing into the shadows.

You managed to build a new life away from their horrors and your past. Living in hiding in a quiet town, trying to blend in. You began to attend a public high school and tried to reclaim something of a normal life. The world now only saw an ordinary girl, but you were always on guard, waiting for them to come.

After a long day at school, you decided to walk home through the park, basking in the setting sun. The air was crisp, and the scent of the spring flowers beginning to bloom provided a fleeting comfort.

You barely noticed a figure approaching as you got lost in thought. It wasn’t until he was right in front of you, that you noticed him.

“Soldat,” you whispered, the name catching in your throat as your heart stopped. He didn’t look different, his hair was the same length as you remembered and his eyes were still that intense blue.

There was no response, he lunged at you with a knife. It grazed your arm as you barely managed to dodge it, indifference over his features.

“Don’t you recognize me, Soldat?” you pleaded, your voice trembling as the memories flashed in your mind, you continued to dodge.

He stared blankly at you while not backing down, his movements were as mechanical as you remembered. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“It’s me, your Spiderling,” you said desperately, hoping to reach the side of him they would try to erase.

For a moment, he paused, his gaze scanned you up and down. You saw a flicker of something in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared. You had grown, and aged since the last time you saw him.

“Liar,” he hissed, his voice was cold and detached.

He began lunging at you again. Summoning all your strength, you accepted that the brief hesitation was all you were going to get. You prepared yourself for the hardest fight in your life. One against him.

His knife came at you again, but this time, you deflected it was a swift motion you learned from him. Knocking the knife out of his hand, his response was immediate; launching a barrage of punches. You countered and dodged, drawing on every bit of training you’d received from him.

“Soldat, please!” you shouted between strikes, testing your hope again. “It’s me!”

He didn’t respond, he was relentless. The initial adrenaline rush you had began to fade as you tired quickly. The sound of HYDRA agents filled the previously deserted park, they were closing in. You could only imagine they were tracking him to ensure he completed his mission. You.

You darted into the woods, him hot on your heels as the agents followed. Their shouts echoed through the trees. The only chance was to lose him in the woods, hoping that his memories of you, however buried, would slow him.

As branches whipped your face, and the ground became uneven, you heard him behind you. And, he was gaining ground. Your small frame began to feel as though it couldn’t go any further, yet a shot rang out. A searing pain rushed from your leg, and you stumbled, falling to the ground.

He was on you in an instant, and fear began to rise within you. Yet, he hesitated again, instead of completing the mission, he looked down at you. Your eyes pleaded with his as you met his gaze.

“You don’t have to do this, please.”

His grip tightened on your arm, his eyes flickering with confusion and pain. The voices from the distance grew louder. A sudden burst of strength came over you, wrenching you free from his grasp. You tried to stand but your injury caused you to collapse once more.

“Finish it!” An agent demanded as they reached you, roughly pulling you to your feet. A piercing scream escaped you as the pain through your arm.

His eyes locked onto yours again, for a moment, you didn’t see the soldier. You saw the same man you did as a child. But then, the cold mask returned. You struggled against the agent as darkness closed in around you.

The last you saw was him being led away in the opposite direction.

When you woke up, you were in a dimly lit room. Bandages covered your wounds, and you recognized the faint hum of medical equipment. Leaning over you, a kind-faced nurse began speaking to you.

“You’re safe now,” she said softly, relief washing over her features as she saw you waking up. “We found you just in time.”

The days quickly turned into weeks as you recovered, the emotional wounds taking longer to heal than the physical. At night, the memories haunted you, the sight of him being taken away scared into your mind.

You had lost him once again.

That evening, back in the quiet solitude of your room, you found yourself surrounded by a blue glow, a small hologram appearing on your table. Natasha had given it to you, as a way to keep in touch with those still fighting. With a deep breath, you accepted it, and a tiny shimmering figure of Rocket appeared.

“Hey, kid,” his voice crackled through the device, his sarcastic tone was surprisingly soothing. “How ya holding up?”

His expression softened as you sat down, the weight of the day continuing to press. “Not great. Saw Buck’s name on one of the walls they built today.”

He let out a small sigh, “Yeah, I guessed it might be a tough day.” he took a moment to pause, no doubt thinking about the family he lost a year ago too. “Look, I know it ain’t much, but we’re out here, doing everything we can to fix it.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, only this time there was a small flicker of hope. “Thanks, Rocket.” you sniffled. “It means a lot to know you’re out there, still.”

“We’ll get them back,” another pause from him. “All of them.” his voice became full of determination. “And, when we do… we’ll all have a big, stupid celebration.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Rocket chuckled. “I might finally get that arm.”

The weight of your grief lifted, for only a moment, replaced by the warmth of Rocket’s humor and the promise of a fight not yet over.

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#bring him home series #bring him home #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x romanoff!reader

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tookthe-405 · 6 months

Text

On our way

Flashback 1: We were younger…

(I wanted some more backstory I’m sorryyy)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸

DONATIONS 🍉

(Not so loserish)ellie x fem!reader

a/n: some fluffy flashback from when they were 14 to give some happiness :)

Max and Chloe coded!! (Just realised that wtf)

put my whole childhood homoromantic friendship into this 😪

RILEY MENTIONED!?? they did you dirty my love

c/w: compulsive heterosexuality?!(not much though), a chicken heart?😭, a bit of fighting (ofc!), jealousyyyy, panic attack (yes again)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

(Reader and Ellie are 14)

(4 years ago)

Readers pov:

9/14

Whatever negative, people say about eighth grade, it's true. Eighth grade sucks. Seventh grade is manageable. Sixth grade? fine but Eighth grade was a new level you didn't know you had to go through. Few weeks in and its already a nightmare for you and all your friends. Thank god you found some.

When you got into middle school a few years ago, you and ellie managed to persuade joel to send ellie to the same school as you. Which wasn't a hard decision for him, because in a small town in Boston, he didn't have that many options.

But you didn't get into the same class, which was quite scary for you at first. Ellie, on the other hand, is good at talking to people, sometimes a bit too well, and then she says things that she should probably have kept to herself.

However, you had problems at the beginning of the 5th grade. The fear of being rejected by people you studied with for a years had haunted you.

Some of the classes were mixed together and you still remember how quickly you scanned the room, so you could find ellie to sit next to her, and unsurprised there were a few people around her laughing. You stood next the crowd, too shy to get Ellie's attention. She didn't notice you at all at first, but talked and laughed with the classmates around her.

That was the first time you felt afraid of losing her to people who are more In so many patterns. For a few seconds, you just stood there and watched her. Her easy-going but also attentive nature, which attracted people like the light a moth.

It was like magic.

She played with the feelings and laughter like water. Light in her hands, without meaning and purely out of feelings, but so careful. This was her stage, she was in her element, and you would always just sit in the audience, with an astonished and envious gaze.

But then she saw you and brought a gap through the crowd to show you that she had secured a free seat for you, with her backpack.

But today it is no longer the case. Eighth grade is a lot of shit, but you've finally made friends in the meantime. For a matter of fact, you're talking to one right now, but you're too engulfed in your thoughts.

"Hellooo you still there?"

Your body stiffens and you quickly turn away from the window, into the direction of Isabella .

"What?" you completely forgot that you are currently in biology and In the company of a friend… and that you still needed to finish a partner project.

Isabella giggles softly.

“You’re always doing that, what is your head thinking about?”

she playfully taps your forehead with her index finger. You grin slightly and wipe her finger out off your face.

“Nothing I’m okay”

“I Hope so because we Are supposed to dissect a chicken heart and not stare out the window”

A glance at the table and there is the chicken heart she’s talking about.

“Yeah no thank you” you say with a grimace that makes her laugh.

“It’s okay we can google the tasks at home, this is torture.” She sighs, puts the lid over the heart and takes of her gloves, you do the same nodding.

“So” she turns to you again with that curious grin of hers.

“What have you been daydreaming about the past few days?”

You let out a nervous laugh and wave your hand in the air.

"nothing what am I supposed to dream about, so…"

She raises her eyebrows reproachfully, she knows how you lie.

"You don't have to tell me, but is it a certain someone who starts with E?"

Your blood freezes with shock, but also respectful fear, of her alleged knowledge.

"what i don't know who you mean" Sweat forms on your palms and you quickly rub them together so that they don't Stupidly betraye you.

"I guess I hit the bull's eye, I knew you liked him?" Your forehead frown on its own and your stress sweat turn into anxiety sweat.

"Him?"

Isabella nods. "Eliza, you like him… Right"

The first two letter almost give you a heart attack but then you just frown at her.

she seems confused by your confusion, you turn around slow, as you are sitting in the first row, to stare at the boy in the last corner.

He just laughed and pressed the chicken heart into his sitting partner's face.

Ew.

Isabella doesn't seem to notice how disgusted you are, because she gives you a promising and excited look. Something pushes you to lie, you couldn't control it even if you tried.

"Yes, that's it" a sad smile on your face as you say the words.

Before she can react, the door is opened in a loud swing and ellie is standing in the doorway, grinning, behind her a few boys and girls.

"Hey" she gives you a warm smile that you knwo all to well, her arms resting on the table.

Then she looks up at Isabella emotionlessly.

"Isabella"

"Ellie" she replies dryly.

Yes, the two don't like each other very much. Then ellie's smile turned, quickly, sending it back to you.

"Aren’t you done yet?"

"No, young lady, they are not, and you knock before you come in" Ms. Perlow's voice booms through the room.

Any normal student would be scared, which justifies this woman is scary, but ellie isn’t sacred at all.

Grinning, she raises her arms in the air, as if she’s been caught stealing. A few children giggle at her gesture, but the older woman doesn't think it's so funny.

"Ellie, it's the same every time, you make a clown out of yourself for God's sake, leave this task to the boys"

Mrs. Perlow looks away for a moment to massage her temples with her thumbs and pointing fingers, which you felt a bit sorry for, she was soo old. Ellie of course doesn’t care.

She quickly rummages for something in her jacket pocket and nimbly presses a small piece of paper into your hand.

"Okay, till next time, Mrs. Perlow," she calls into the room before disappearing out the door.

"I hope not," the teacher murmurs audibly, however, and whispers break out again, in the classroom.

Your fingers try quickly and unevenly to open the note.

Meet me at the new dinner down the street, I’ve got news and please don’t bring Isabella along

- your favourite person ever

P.S your hair looks pretty :)

With each step, you tousle the autumn leaves on the ground. It was kind of fun though, so you didn't stop, the scurrying sound of the dead plants in your ear.

Ellie mentioned a new dinner, which you have already drove by once with joel. After a few weeks ago, you passed by the former tourist center, which was soon to be renovated into a dinner.

Ellie thought it was better right away, because there is no one who wants to look around here in a small town Beverly farms. The eastern side of Beverly wasn't really interesting, she was right, but you always thought the little town was cute.

Here is everything you need and you have the sea right in front of your nose.

As you walk down the street with your backpack on your back, you think about what Ellie must have meant by "ive got news".

Before you know it, you'll be standing in front of the new store. "Seth's dinner". It actually looks very cozy, the light inside seems warm and a few people have already become aware of the place.

It seems to you just in autumn, very hopeful? A new beginning that is going well, a small but beautiful change in this small town. When you open the door, the door snorts cold from the air, the pleasant air surrounds your face.

There also seems to be a bar, graceful bottles on the wall and behind the counter. But otherwise it seems to be a normal dinner. Greasy smell of fries, burgers and beacons in the air, but on the order table it is written (in beautiful handwriting) that there should also be donuts and pancakes in the morning. In the evening, the bar opens.

At the counter, an older man is eyeing you, who is drying a glass. You've never seen him before, and he looks spooky right away.

Your head turns in every direction until you see the waving hand of Ellie, who had held a seat across from her in a corner of the table. It looks a bit like the dinners in Joel's old movies.

With a loud noise, you drop your bag and sit down opposite her. You let out a tired sigh, but then you notice Ellie's excited look. You shrug your shoulders uninformed.

"What?"

"Wait, I want to order before I tell you"

Her legs were constantly wriggling with hustle and bustle and you can't help but smile a little. The waiter came to your table and you two ordered 2 fries.

"Okay, tell me now" you say

Something good releases in your chest, you suppress the distracting feeling before it could reach the surface. The sparkle on ellie's face made you nervous in various ways.

"Okay, but promise me you won't be angry, ok?"

Okay, so the bad nervous feelings won. You strain straighter, ready for whatever might come your way.

"How old are we ellie, you don't always have to say that, when you've done something"

Ellie laughs so bright, that sound that you appreciate so much every time, as if it gives you water just before you dry out.

"remember how We wanted to go fishing with Joel this weekend"

You shake your head.

"You wanted this, not me ellie"

"yes, anyway, and you know Riley, don't you? From my English course"

Your shoulders slumped, just as you were about to answer, your order arrived. The old man from the counter. You automatically avoid eye contact. As he quietly, almost like a ghost, puts down the plates in front of you, he stops abruptly and stares at ellie's legs.

"Can you stop fidgeting like that, it drives me crazy"

His voice is exactly how you imagined it, rough, a little hollow somehow and he sounds like he's been a smoker for 10 years.

Ellie looks after him with a pissed expression on her face and starts shaking her legs even more out of provocation.

"Whatever, Riley wanted to come this time and her parents allowed it, isn't that cool"

You're not as enraptured by the idea as Ellie is and you tap with the tips of your fingers, and an unpleasant feeling in your stomach, on the table a little rhythm.

Ellie's foot bumps against yours and you look up at her even before she grabs your hand.

"Now I understand what the old man means, it really makes you nervous" she Chuckles and you just feel her hand for a moment. It lightens yours gently, but not considerately, as physical contact is normal between you.

Or at least it should be. But her fingertips triggered a wave of heat that spread to your face like wildfire.

You quickly flinch back, worried that Ellie might feel your pulse, which beats very erratically. Your thoughts are circling around, unsure if the feeling is positive or negative. It feels… nice? Exciting and it's directly addictive, you feel your inner self wanting to reach for more, but an indecent anxiety accompanies you every time you allow yourself to think this far.

"so you don't like idea huh?"

Your head goes up. Shes the same as always, reddish hair, green eyes, those freckles… Ellie's own gaze has descended. You never wanted to see her like that. Now you nudge her under the table with your foot.

"No, I think it's a good idea" you lie straight to her face.

The well-known grin creeps back onto her face and she stuffs a french fries into her mouth.

Then she proudly told you how she was sent to the school principal almost twice, but also about how she got a B+ in math and how the subject gets way too much hate.

You tell her that it deserves even more hate and about the weird interection with Isabella.

Ellie choked on a french chip and coughed so hard that Seth almost kicked her out. She said that she would know if you liked someone and that Isabella shouldn’t think she could be more important to you, than she really is.

This gave you a tingling feeling, so that you almost completely forgot about riley

"I don't understand your anticipation about something like that" Confused, you watch Ellie excitedly digging her fishing stuff out of the rack.

After joel voluntarily took her with him a few times, it became a little tradition and she got her own fishing set, which she takes care of like a mother.

"I like fishing and I like to eat fish, it's a perfect fit."

You're leaning your shoulder against the door of the garage when she bumps her head under joel's workbench.

“Ow”

He can't stow boxes well and safely. But there isn't much space here either, the green pick up truck, tools and the bench on which he has already built the craziest things for ellie.

"I don't get it no, I don't like the hunt and the taste of fish very much"

You always feel like an unnecessary murderer,since you kill the beings and it doesn't give you anything.

Ellie grabs her personal spare fishing line and packs it into her fisherman's backpack.

"Then you can leave the fishes you catch to me… if you catch any at all" She grins at you challengingly.

"Hey!" You point your finger at her. "I'm not that bad."

“No, I wouldn’t want to be reminded of how bad I am either, I get it." She says and you can hear her fucking smile in her voice.

"whatever ellie, i don't like it and it’s not because I’m not good at it"

"Oh no its not that your not good at it, its that your terrible at it"

Annoyed, you roll your eyes, turn around and leave Ellie in the room, but you both have a grin on your mouths. In the kitchen, Joel waits in his typical fisherman's outfit at the dining table, with a magazien about horse races.

He actually just looks like a forester. "Hey little one you ready for the trip?"

You let yourself fall across from him, on the wood table , which Joel must have built and sanded himself.

In the beginning, you had a lot of trouble with him, he was older and taller than most of the fathers you knew.

He was also a bit old to be ellie's father. Which, in the end,turned out that he wasn't. Not exactly.

That's why he was a little colder to you at the beginning, to test you. What does it take you to leave ellie, how quickly can someone get rid of you.

He wanted to know so he could protect her from it.

That's what you're understanding today.

Ellie couldn't afford to lose any more people, and you'd be lying if you said you would have done it differently in his place.

Yes, he was a bit intimidating at first, but after a few months he softened.

Now ellie worries that he loves you more than her, but you know the truth. No one could get close to ellie, just like no one would ever get close to sarah. Probably not even Ellie herself.

You really wanted to know what name would use Ellie for the both of you?

The thought of a name, It scares you both. Because it was more than friendship yet less than- "hey you okay?"

Joel and ellie stare at you.

You nod quickly and look at the clock.

”Didn’t she wanted to be here already?" Your question was more directed towards Ellie.

Then the house bell rang and your hope falls deep and painful.

Ellie's face is starting to shine again, and even though that was one of your favorite pictures, it started to annoy you very quickly the last few days.

"Wait, I forgot my gloves," she dashed up the stairs with her huge hiking backpack and her much too loud shoes.

Her nimble footsteps could be heard throughout the house. Your gaze flicks back to a very concentrated joel, who twitches his head towards the door, to make it clear to you that you should get it.

You let out a little sigh and wander extra slowly to the door, maybe she left. She didn’t.

But You can't lie, riley was pretty. and nice. clever too. It annoyed you to the bone.

"hey"

You look at her for a moment and immediately notice the backpack and the fishing rod. God ellie will love her.

"Hey come in"

You politely open the door for her, before she enters the house she quickly takes off her shoes. Jesus, good manners too.

"Riley, Welcome, we'll leave as soon as this girl finds her gloves" he laughs in his typical raspy voice.

"Don't talk about me if when not in the room," Ellie yells down and Riley giggles. "Thank you for taking me with you this time, Mr. Miller.“

You didn't know Riley, but you can tell right away that she's very intelligent and that you understand Ellie liking for her.

As much as you try to cover it up.

Joel shakes his head. "You can call me Joel"

Riley nods briefly, and Ellie shoes can be heard whizzing down the stairs again. When she sees Riley, she freezes for a moment, even though she knew she would be here.

For a moment you wondered why she did that, but then you got it.

"Hey Riley"

"Hi Ellie"

The drive to the lake was 20 minutes. And they were the worst 20 minutes of your life. Ellie wanted to sit next to riley so bad she left the front seat to you. She never does that.

From the mirror you could see the two of them laughing, talking as if they have known each other for years.

For the first time, it seemed to you that ellie wanted to share her stage with someone. It's as if she's brought someone from the audience to the stage.

And that someone wasn't you.

You didn't say a word the whole way. Not a word.

When the bluish lake was visible trough the many trees, you wanted to drown in it. Now you still want that.

The weight of your backpack bends your back right now, and ellie and riley never looked happier.

"Have you ever fished before, riley?"

you ask the tall girl.

She nods. "My grandfather used to take me on his trips sometimes."

"So cool," Ellie murmurs.

You thought everything was shit in this place. The lake looks so unwelcoming in the fall, as if it is personally trying to tell you to just give it up.

The old wood of the jetty squeaks and slips because of the humid air and you doubt the stability of the old thing. Joel prepares a place where he can fish in peace and quiet, and gives you younger people the freedom to do it on their own.

As the youngest in the group, it doesn't help that you really are bad at fishing, but you should be able to do connect the purr and the fishing rod.

Actually, you only have to manage to connect a fishing line, the rest takes care of itself.

Too bad you're so bad to make this fucking knot.

and you really try, but it just doesn't work. After a while you get too uncomfortable that you can't do it and you drop your fishing rod loudly on the wood.

Riley looks at you confused.

Joel was back at the car searching for the bait that disgusts you so much that you’re always afraid that the worms are still alive.

Ellie looks at you and stops at your bright red face. You can't read her look, you can't understand so much about what's been going on with her over the last few weeks, maybe even months.

But maybe you’re the problem too.

"Can you help Joel for a moment, we'll come right away" Ellie jerks her head in Joel's direction, as she talks to Riley.

She doesn't give you one last look before she goes past you towards the car.

The freckled girl steps forward and picks up your fishing rod, in front of you while you stare into the air like a little child.

"Whatever is going on with you today, the fishing rod really didn't deserve that"

You look downs a bit again to meet her eyes.

"What's wrong with you Ellie?"

"With me? nothing at all… What is wrong with me?"

Her shoulders tense just a little bit, but you don't miss it.

"The only thing you're talking about is riley, the only one you want to impress is riley"

Ellie takes a few steps back for some reason and looks behind you, probably at joel and riley who are still looking for the fishing lure, out of respect.

"I don't know what you mean"

You let out a snort and look at her. “I don't know you like that and it's driving me crazy"

"Why? Why can't I change, what's your problem?"

You want to seek closeness, her hand in yours to make the emotional distance disappear, but she takes a step back again when you try it.

It makes sense that she doesn't want that right now, but it still hurts incredibly how she runs away from you.

"It's not about you changing, it's good that you do, I don't care about that, but not who you do it with, Ellie" you remark.

For a second, she seems so far away, as if worlds universes separate you. In some summers, ellie and joel visit their family in texas, or drive into town for a few days. The separated time is not pretty, but neither is it gruesome.

Cause you can’t wait for her to come back, and she's just as excited about it as you are.

But I’m this moment, right now, you feel more separate from her than ever before.

"It's not always about you, I'm not your-"

Both of you weren't sure how it happened, because all of a sudden she was in the water. You don't know if you pushed her or if she fell in because of her distance steps. But both would be your fault.

The sound the jetty makes, the platch of the water, the way she is so shocked as soon as her face reaches the surface.

With your hand in front on your mouth you watch as she stares at you indignantly. Thank god she can swim.

Her eyes and the light green of the lake, bite each other just a tiny bit. It almost seems to you as if it was so destined, ellie and the lake. And maybe that was the case, but not in autumn.

You can't imagine how cold the water is and her blue lips testify enough. But Ellie doesn't budge. For a few seconds, she just stares at you. Maybe so that she can picture it again later or to make you realize what you just done.

You two didn't have to check if joel and riley noticed, you can already hear the stomping footsteps.

"Im sorry I-" you turn around so fast that you get dizzy and you almost fall into the lake too , you run so fast down the jetty that Joel can't stop you.

You're not quite sure where you're going. It all looks the same anyway. A play of colours, of orange and yellow on the ground and in the crowns of the trees. The sounds of birds and the dead leaves in the air.

As soon as you don't feel your legs anymore, you stop.

Your lungs sound like they're about to give up on you, and you are about to hyperventilate. It feels like you're always running, if not physical, then emotional.

You run when you're awake, when you're asleep, when you're sitting, Whether that's on ellie‘s old couch or when you have dinner with your family. Something scares you and it's always in the back of your mind, no matter where you are or with whom.

All of a sudden, your chest feels too tight and your head too much, but the world feels too small. It's as if all the air in the world is evaporating in front of you, and you can't do anything but try to get some oxygen with every breath. Your arms rested on your knees, your head spinning and-

"Hey?"

Your eyes rush open so wide and fast it almost hurts.

Ellie's clothes are completely soaked, so is her hair and she shivers slightly. And she's standing in front of you? She’s wearing an fishing jacket, a thick one and a wet one, but she doesn’t care.

"Hey it's okay im sorry I shouldn't have said that" she says it so fast, your brain almost misses it.

she doesn't ask if she can touch you, even if a precaution wouldn't have hurt you. At first only your hand, she grabs it very carefully and her cold skin makes you twitch a bit.

After that, she holds your cheek in her other hand to make you look up. You could still feel the drops of water hours later.

"Come here its okay, I’m fine" She takes puts both of her arms around you and one hand rests on your head.

She literally presses you against her. Her hand gently caresses over your hair. You've shoved her into an ice-cold lake and she's holding you like you're gold. As if you weren't a monster - as if you mean something.

Like a lost piece of a puzzle, your own arms sling around her and you put your head into her shoulder.

You cry so often, and you know it. You know how overwhelming it is for you, for the people around you, maybe even annoying, but not for ellie.

The animals of the forest hardly bothered, even if it was like the whole forest when quiet for a short minute. But you might have imagined that too.

"I'm really sorry ellie"

Your breaking voice is very low, though she hears it anyway.

"I know everything is okay I’m fine, I’m sorry too"

Out of surprise, you stiffen for a moment.

"I dragged you out here and hardly spoke to you. You're only here because of me" she explains and You can’t deny that.

You were going to stay like this a little longer, but suddenly ellie's breath hitches.

"don’t fucking move"

Her words run like a cold down your spine and into your ear, all the way to your legs. You were prepared for something that would tear you apart from behind But not knowing what it was almost killed you by itself.

Her arms loosen and turned you around a little in the other direction. Her eyes are still directed forward, into the forest.

When you slowly turn around, theres only a… deer?

You suppress the urge to tease Ellie, expecting that a Serial killer with a pointed hook was standing behind you, but the beauty of the creature was already enough to shut you up. It's still a bit young, probably still baby.

The white dots reminded you of freckles, of ellie.

The same ellie who was still standing next to you, way too close. But by too close you mean “exactly close enough”. Just perfect.

The two of you watch as the animal sniffs around on the ground. Ellie's wet hand prushes yours just a little.

A daring, yet intentional invitation, which you immediately accept.

The deer looks up even though you didn't make a sound.

And it's hard for you to breathe, as well as blinking.

This moment, this gracious moment should last as long as possible. It seems to both of you as if it is looking right into your souls, your hand squeezes ellies even tighter.

"Do you have your phone with you?"

With her big eyes she is still watching the deer. You shake your head.

"That's fine. I think it wont leave us, just for a little while.

a/n: I tried to make it a little less angsty (I failed forgive me)

INTERACT W LINKS ABOVE!!!! 🍉🍉

anyways hope you liked it pls repost and like!!! Next chapter the road trip will start I promise 🤞 (no hate to Riley btw I love her but let’s be fr reader would be jealous)

@yourelliewillms @bready101 @liasxeatt @darkerstarsstuff @elliezato @macaroni676 @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @lovelyxbaby @yalaysbee @moonchild184 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @gosomewjere

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total-funger-island · 9 months

Text

“Whiteness of the day.”

“Numbness of mind.”

“Darkness of depths.”

“Dance La Mad.”

“Termina is upon us..”

24 people traveling to the Wawanakwa island where Festival of Termina hosts by invitation from mysterious jester-man in their dream. All contestants have to manage surviving on through the island in 1 week and there must only one winner. Non of them are aware of the island’s threat that faces to their life.

* You finally arrived.

* As you step down from the train, you can feel the horror.

* Your body begins to tremble with fear and hunger.

IM BACK BABY I FINISHED ALL OF THEM WOHOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! Finally everyone is here after I spent time to find their fits, don’t get me to mentioning about my sense of fashion is horrible but I’m glad all of them looking good. Thank you for all supports from my lovely followers make me here at this point, love you all <33

Update note infos about this au

The setting were take place in 1940s during ww2

This au will contain stuffs like g@re, d@ugs and ant dark themes. I will make sure tag them everytime as warnings

All characters are young adult (around 18-20) (I just don’t want to see teens being tortured :(

As I mentioned from those past posts this au will have multiple endings kinda like games (I think it cool to see my followers make their death choic— *gunshots*)

I just decided change 6 day to 1 week, I feel like it still too small for large casts

Btw stories will based on funger itself 90% might change some details or lore to fit tdi

Here all contestants designs I hope you like them, their moonscorched form and enemies will be next (also tagged me anytime if you fanart of them au I would love to see them *wink wink*)

Real footage of me after this post if you care /pos :

#total drama island #total drama #total drama au #fear and hunger #fear and hunger termina #tdi fanart #funger au #tdi #my art #I wish I could tag all characters #sorry to #repost some here cause I’m lazy to scroll down to find them <\3 #ignore two gay psychopaths couple in last picture here /j #im gonna sleep now bye

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merlot-and-chardonnay · 5 months

Text

HotD Take: the Tragedy of Queen Aemma

There's something I've just realized about HotD involving the character of Aemma Arryn.

I've noticed that pretty much the whole of episode 1, when we do see Aemma...actually right at the beginning of the episode as a matter of fact, the beginning of the show, she is seen as being pregnant, presumably with Rhaenyra, as this was around the time Viserys officially named successor to the Old King Jaehaerys.

This made me realize that pretty much the WHOLE of this episode, the whole of seeing Aemma's screentime, we basically always see her in a pregnant state.

I might be reading a little too much into this observation, but I wonder if this is to showcase how Queen Aemma's basic role in all of this was to produce an heir...a MALE heir at that.

The woman has only had one daughter so far, any other children she has had between Rhaenyra and the last child she had before dying, they were either stillborn or died in the cradle before they could even been given proper names.

Aemma herself did say this in the show:

"We have royal wombs you and I. The childbed is our battlefield...we must learn to face it with a stiff lip."

Basically Aemma's life as queen has revolved around getting pregnant with the hopes of producing a suitable heir for the realm after Viserys passes, but she was never able to do that...well she actually did but that realization came too late.

It was not until AFTER Viserys made the call to have Aemma subjected to a brutal involuntary C-section did he realize that the heir the realm needed had been there all along, which was Rhaenyra.

But again, this was something he didn't realize until AFTER Aemma died, AFTER he put her through that torture procedure and AFTER the son Aemma had finally bore died in the cradle a few hours after that event.

While I have no doubt that Viserys did love Aemma, it's kinda hard to not see that Aemma, even though she was queen, was basically treated as a broodmare, made to produce heirs until she either succeeded in producing a healthy son...or until it killed her,

and that was something Rhaenyra had noticed at a young age, hence the reason why the girl was so hesitant about getting married, why she rebelled against her father when he 'nudged' her to find a husband.

The fact that we only see Aemma being pregnant during her whole time on the show, I feel, conveys the nature of her role as a queen and highborn lady in the patriarchal society that is Westeros, which was essentially that of a broodmare.

Realizing that just now makes her death all the more depressing.

Aemma Arryn, it seems, had made her peace playing that role, she learned to embrace it...but that peace she made end up doing little to save her in the end, it did very little to save her from the horrible death she endured to bring her son into the world- a son who, again, only lived a few hours after being born.

I also do see the irony in that Aemma was only able to bare a daughter and could never produce any sons, while Rhaenyra was able to bare five healthy sons, but ended up losing a daughter in the womb.

I also do see the irony in that Viserys, even though he realized that Rhaenyra was the heir in his dreams, he ended up caving to pressure from the Small Council to take a wife who did manage to give him sons- emphasis on sons PLURAL.

Sons that he ended up neglecting in favor of his "only" daughter from his late wife that he subjected to a brutal and fatal and INVOLUNTARY C-section, but I digress.

That's all I gots to say on this matter.

Have a nice day :)

#hotd #aemma arryn #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #viserys targaryen #dammit viserys why you have to go and cause this mess?!!!

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sugolara · 2 years

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𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝

Feat. Katsuki Bakugo x Shoto Todoroki x Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

An ongoing series.

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, every country is forced to close down its borders and airports to prevent anyone from coming in and out. Though, it's too late for some people. The dead have risen and are looking for revenge.

Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, heavy angst, lots and lots of blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, updates thursday/sunday, slow burn, wd: 1k - 5k, its a quirkless! au, so u.a is a private high school with general education along with classes that have hands-on experience; like a trade school.

BEING HEAVILY EDITED: s1 - s5 has been heavily edited as of 7/15/24 - 9/16/24, so a few things may not make sense if you are re-reading or the comments do not make sense.

Inspired by, ''The Walking Dead''

Table of contents:

Season 1: The beginning of us. Episode 1: Begin Episode 2: Not alone Episode 3: Gone but not forgotten Episode 4: You belong in this world Episode 5: Because all life is precious Episode 6: Musutafu, we'll meet again Episode 7: Izuku: I'd always thought there be more time

Season 2: The setting I lived for. Episode 8: During these two weeks Episode 9: Diopside, like your eyes Episode 10: For the first time in a long time Episode 11: Determined to survive, stay alive Episode 12: Imperturbable Episode 13: Almost complete Episode 14: Katsuki: You are going to beat this world

Season 3: The completion of us. Episode 15: Away with you Episode 16: Three months ago Episode 17: Disappear Episode 18: Thin ice Episode 19: Nothing else to lose Episode 20: My savior Episode 21: Shoto: Everything you would be will be gone

Season 4: The torture realization. Episode 22: Trouble Episode 23: For however long that'll be Episode 24: The fallen city Episode 25: Stay who you are Episode 26: Here with you Episode 27: All together Episode 28: F/n: A soul yet to be mourn

Season 5: The dawn to you. Episode 29: Back on road Episode 30: Lost Episode 31: Safe in your arms Episode 32: And so it begins Episode 33: At stake Episode 34: To be forgiven Episode 35: Familiar face

Season 6: The journey to you. Episode 36: A relief Episode 37: Upcoming trouble Episode 38: Never to easy Episode 39: To good for death Episode 40: Old memories Episode 41: A stroke of luck Episode 42: Be aware Episode 43: Bait Episode 44: A thump in my heart Episode 45: Belong to me Episode 46: One step closer (Towards you)

Season 7: The ache in my heart. Episode 47: Sorston Episode 48: Tenderness Episode 49: Here to stay Episode 50: The start Episode 51: Crushed Episode 52: Reporting to duty Episode 53: Good morning and goodbye Episode 54: An end to sorrow, grief & regret Episode 55: On the move Episode 56: Confirmation Episode 67: The world was on fire and no one could save me but you

Season 8: The beauty of choice. Episode 58: Not who you were Episode 59: Just you and me Episode 60: The Plaza Episode 61: The other side Episode 62: To be ready Episode 63: You're here Episode 64: So long, my dear Episode 65: Discard me Episode 66: Secrets you'll soon share Episode 67: I wish you nothing but the best Episode 68: For as long as I live Episode 69: Goodness and kindness can't survive, at least not in the world I dreamed of

Season 9: The missing. Episode 70: I'll see you in a while Episode 71: So wait for me Episode 72: Hushed secrets

To be continued...

Playlist!

Space junk - Wang Chung Wolf - First Aid Kit Into The Black - Chromatics My Life In Rewind Run Boy Run - Woodkid Bad Before Good - Day One You're so Cool - Jonathon Bree So Bored - Gorgeous Bully Operations - Duster Civilian - Wye Oak Can't Stop - Red Hot Chili Peppers Sweet Child O' Mine - Guns N' Roses Skyfall - Adele Up the wolves - The Mountains Goats Be Gone Dull Cage - Kiev Into Dust - Mazzy Star Tomorrow Is a Long Time - Bob Dylan Poison Tree - Grouper Rhymes Of An Hour - Mazzy Star You Are The Wilderness - Voxhaul Broadcast Running - Delta Spirit People, Turn Around - Delta Spirit The Lion's Roar - First Aid Kit Pain - Boy Harsher Setup - Favored Nations This Old Death - Ben Nichols Revolution - Red Shahan Mr. Splitfoot - Paris Motel The Man Who Sold The World - Nirvana Beautiful Mess - Balian The Day The World Went Away - Nine Inch Nails Empty Words - Bowery Electric No Longer Making Time - Slowdive Hush - Trills Struggling Man - Emily Kinney The Last Pale Light In the West - Ben Nichols Blackbird Song - Lee Dewyze Step Away From the Cliff - Blue-Eyed Son Take Care (To Comb Your Hair) - Ty Segall Paradise - Silverberg No Peace At All - Aldous Harding Glad I Had a Friend - Galt MacDermot Machine Gun - Portishead Shadows of Planes - Duster Save Us from Ourselves - Digital Daggers Salt in the Wound - Delta Spirit I'm No Heroine - Emily Wells It's All Right - Sam Cooke To Build A Home - The Cinematic 6 Underground - Sneaker Pimps Edge Of The World- Dayshell Bye Bye Bye - School of Seven Bells You Are Not Alone - Mavis Staples Welcome - Harmonia & Eno '76 Hope We Can Again - Nine Inch Nails outside - Oneheart sleepless - Odyzon Arsonist's Lullabye - Hozier It's All Over - Johnny Cash The Stars Just Blink for Us - Say Hi Love Will Tear Us Apart - Joy Division Knockin' On Heaven's Door - Guns N' Roses Runnin' Down A Dream - Tom Petty Fly Like An Eagle - Steve Miller Band Alesund - Sun Kil Moon Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd Wicked Game - Chris Isaak 1908 - Repulsive Rule of Rose OST - Playing Airship I Shall Cross This River - The Black Atlantic Easy Way Out - Low Roar Don Abandons Alice - John Murphy Wherever You Are - Ulrich Schnauss Waitin' Around to Die - Townes Van Zandt Hope Prevails - Jesper Kyd

Book one: Welcome To The New World Book two: To The One You Left Behind

taglist: @mikeyswifie @k0z3me @sky-angel101 @stevenknightmarc @nahwajinswhore @mn-0p @a-helen113 @azrral @mary-jinx @chixkadee @flowers-4-you @im-the-groot

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bangtan-in-black · 5 months

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VIVE LA RÉVOLUTION

Chapter 1: the beginning.

‘Many many years ago’

That's how most stories start, right? Stories that entail a damsel in distress unable to do as much as defend herself, or would be so ditsy as to leave her magical shoe behind.

Yes ‘many many years ago’ is used to tell stories, these olden folk tales. Stories that are told to make village daughters work for their happily ever after. A happily ever after in which all likelihood would never come to them. Would never arrive on the common girls doorsteps like they so desperately desired.

These are all they are, tales and stories promising a better future that would never come.

~~~~~~~~

Another day rises over the mor. The soft light awakens the village's inhabitants.

A tired sigh leaves your lips as you are one of the first to rise on this new day.

A dull ache remains at the bottom of your back from the injury acquired days ago, where you had slipped over a glistening wet rock on the way back uphill from the town market, on your way back to your workhouse.

The red lion workhouse.

Far from the life you'd heard and even imagined as a child hearing the stories of lower class peasants like you, as you were often called by nobles passing through the shacks and muddy barren fields. The peasants in the stories were able to leave their station with their gentry and noble husbands. A glint in their eyes as they walked towards their new life with their husbands. A ring on their finger and a life in the lap of luxury secured.

Time.

Time had been the one to slap that dream out of your head. The cruelest reality of all, indeed. The one where you realized that no prince on a white stallion would come riding up the mountains for you.

Any hope of that happening died that day, 15 years ago.

The moment the king's soldiers, the knights came to town.

They had stormed into your small village where your family lived. They came marching towards your shack, dragged your parents out of bed and mutilated them where they stood while they made you, their child watch on in horror as they were tortured and finally being thrown into the blazing flame that ate away at your home where you'd all lived.

Your tiny body held back despite the struggle against the stoney like hold of the royal pests holding onto you.

You screamed out for your parents to come back to you from the fire.

You were found in front of your burnt down home after the knights had ridden off into the dark distance.

Madam Rouge, the village wealthiest resident, was the one to find you after the tragic events of that night. Scandalous red lipstick painting her lips, the torch in her hands highlighted the gleam in her eager eyes, eyes eager to help.

She dragged you back to the red lion that night.

Her kindness was what kept you alive, but you were too young, too young and naive to realize her kindness came with a price.

Yes, that was something you soon learned. Everything came with a price.

Madam Rouge's greatest pleasure in life was dolling her girls up as if the young peasants were royalty.

You were a particular victim of this. Often being pulled away from the other girls working.

Madam rouge may have been many things, but cruel to the ones she took in was not one of them.

She was firm but fair.

She gave you and many other girls homes through the years. Food and water being given to you when you could've been lying dead in the streets.

The girls, of course, had to work for what they had. And you worked the hardest, so happy to be alive. To be given a chance to have a family again.

But of course with every good thing comes a bad, many of the girls found it unfair. These girls were Madam Rouge's least favorite girls.

Spoiled, entitled and quite frankly, dull.

Of course a woman of her refined elegance would not take kindly to such behaviors.

The morning sun poking through the windows with the worn wooden frames. This was truly a sight accustomed to you by now, a surefire way to know it was time for the workday to start.

Getting up before the rest of the girls had become pure routine by this point. It was something you'd always prided yourself on ever since you first came to the red lion workhouse, your work ethic outshined any others in the shared house of labour.

There was something about the way madam red looked at you when you did the job better than everyone else.

Pride. A pride strongly glistening in her dark brown eyes.

If such a thing was possible you'd even describe her gaze as shining. A genuine pride that she held for you made you feel worthwhile, it almost felt motherly.

Almost.

You knew she could never ever be your mother, and she didn't try to be but that didn't stop you from reaching for her highest praises. They were the closest thing you'd experienced to parental pride for 13 years.

The closest you'd have for the rest of your life.

Getting ready for another tiresome workday was as tantalisingly mundane, as usual. Throwing your H/L H/C hair up into a scruffy loose ponytail. The birds continued singing, the cows kept mooing.

Walking down the olden wooden steps that were practically breaking apart. First thing on the agenda today was to help feed the rest of the girls in the mess hall.

It seemed as if fate had other plans as you were distracted from your path to the kitchens by the mistress of the red lion herself. Lady Rouge, much preferring her former title of madam, but was still three times the lady compared to most snobby nobles.

“Y/N i thought that was you? Come sit with us for a moment dear, you deserve the break. A proper lady like you should never have calluses.”

That was something that had always confused you greatly. You were going to get calluses working in a workhouse, but Madam Rouge seemed to believe that you were the only one above working hard enough for calluses. You were also the only one she ever called a lady, you'd never thought to question why. It must be because you were the youngest girl she'd ever brought into the red lion. She still sees you as the baby she had taken in.

She sat there with her posture perfectly poised, sipping a sweet smelling tea from a delicately painted teacup. She was adorning her usual attire with her hat placed splendidly on the solid oak coffee table.

Sitting opposite her was a face you had not seen for almost a year and a half. A woman wearing a navy blue hanbok. Her outfit was sophisticated for the village, but you doubted that nobles from the capital would ever even set their eyes on the scruffy silk patterns embedded on the course material. The brunette smiled, her hands caressing her large stomach.

“Oh my! Congratulations” you smiled brightly, truly elated at the sight of one of the older girls from the house doing so well. Sylvia smiles, her eyes creasing in the corners as she takes a sip of an equally sweet smelling tea.

“Oh well it's a lot of work but it's worth it to raise a future knight.” Sylvia says excitedly but her excitement makes you pause.

“A knight?” you couldn't help but ask incredulously.

Sylvia's eyelashes fluttered as her gaze fell to you and her smile dissipated.

“Yes, a knight, my little boy is already so strong.” she said with a certain look in her eye and the way she spoke had an edge, a colder, more stern edge than before.

“Boy?” you asked again, a little confused as to how she was so sure of her baby's sex.

Sylvia's eye twitches as she forces an almost unbearably noticeable smile on her pale pink lips. “Yes, a boy. I would never dishonour my husband, the man who gives me such a good life by giving him a girl.” her eyes look down at you as if you had killed her unborn child. Her eyes were filled with something akin to pure hatred.

Madam Rouge smiles as if not noticing the newly tense atmosphere in the workhouse common room. “I knew you'd bring honour to the red household” Lady Rouge smiled brightly as if all the village's problems had just been solved.

You’d stopped paying attention by this point, too entranced by something that Sylvia had said earlier.

Many thoughts swirled around your head at once. But the one most prominent was the one screaming at you to take this woman's baby from her as she clearly had no regard for anyone other than herself and ‘honour’.

Of course you knew you couldn't really take her baby away, but it hurt your heart to know of the future that this child will be forced into. Never feeling enough unless he becomes a knight and brings his mother honour.

“You'd really wish for your son to become a knight? Even after the royal platoon burned our homes to the ground?” You were unable to keep your tongue to yourself it seems as the words that spill out of you cause a huge sense of panic at the realisation that you’d voiced your thoughts. The question was asked sharply, something whic clearly bothered the mother to be.

“Y/N, they burned your home to the ground, not mine. My son will do as I say and you will keep yourself out of my business because you are pathetic. You hold onto hatred of the people who govern us. They give us everything an youre still not grateful? . Spoiled brat, even after your parents died you had everything handed to you. Didn't have to do anything but be as pathetic as you are to become madams favourite." There was a sick enjoyment in her eyes as she spluttered off her filth.

A deep ashamed feeling creeps into your stomach as you mutter a quiet apology.

“That's right, respect your betters. I worked for everything I have. You're just a sad little girl whose parents died and so madam pitties you because of your losses. If I want my son to bring honour to his family, he will do as I say.” Sylvia felt a sick sense of pride seeing the tears gather in your waterline.

Madam rouges face, once painted with a pleased smile, turns to solid stone as she watches the exchange between her favourite and a former girl of hers.

“My son will even bring honour to you, everyone in this rat infested squalor in fact.” Sylvia sneers.

You thought that out of everyone that Sylvias would be the most likely to understand her stance and the horrid resentment that you held towards the royal knights. Sylvia's story was perhaps more harrowing than your own so you simply couldn't understand why she was jumping so gallantly to the knights defence.

“That's enough Y/N, go and get some eggs from the chickens and some milk.” Madam Rouge raises her voice bitterly, even as she spoke to you, her fiery gaze was trapped on Sylvia. “And Sylvia,”

The brunette perks up, foolishly expecting to be praised.

“I’d not speak of honour while you force your own desired future on your unborn baby, a future in which he's with people who slaughtered your whole family.” Both you and sylvia became silent at madam Rouges outburst. Her breathing now gone ragged.

“This is not how I raised either of you. Start behaving like the proper ladies I've raised. Sylvia id like to have a word with you before you go. Y/N you'll need not stay here or help to cook this morning, go and gather ingredients from outside." Madam Rouge huffs.

“Yes madam.” Y/N curtsies apologetically, before rushing to go to the chicken coop and cow pen.

The room suddenly becomes eerily silent. Madam rouge looks at Sylvia with her sharp cold eyes. Sylvia shivers as madam Rouges cold demeanour becomes altogether something much darker.

“She was always your favourite” Sylvia starts, wildly off put by Madam Rouge's new frightening demeanour, Sylvia couldn't describe it. But she felt unsafe in the presence of the sole woman who raised her, a feeling that she didn't like.

Madam Rouge goes to speak but she never gets the opportunity as she is barraged with Sylvia's sudden emotion.

“Don't deny it.” there's a long period of silence,

“If I've ever treated that girl differently it's because she's deserved it.” Rouge defends.

Sylvia's resolve cracks and she utters a quiet and croaky “why? What makes her different from me or any of the other girls that've been here over the years?” Sylvia indeed felt threatened.

Madam Rouge stands firm. “Have a safe trip home little one.” she says, already turned around, prepared to walk away.

“It's always been the same! Why her! I worked hard too! I lost my family too!”

Madam rouge stops. A manic smile paints her blood red lips as she turns around, launching her sharp cruel words like a bullet.

“She's simply more beautiful than you my darling. Always has been and always will be. Do you even know what a pretty penny she'd fetch in the world of nobles looking for sluts to add to their expensive collections? You'd never be worth a sixteenth of her price.”

Sylvia stares with an unplaced hurt.

“But my dowry-” she begins to argue

“Your dowry was nothing but a cruel joke. Alas I knew it was the best offer you were going to get. You are not the prettiest girl like you believe yourself to be.” Madam Rouge retorts, un bothered as she picks at her pristine nails.

Sylvia could only nod as she fought back tears. She took a deep breath and then left quickly out of the red lion workhouse and into her chief husband's carriage that awaited her. Ready and eager to take her back down the steep hill on which the red lion was situated.

Madam Rouges expression returns to peace.

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strangerquinns · 2 years

Text

Deadly Reunion | Chapter 1

Eddie Munson x female!reader

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you're left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home.

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues

word count: 2K+

next chapter ➵ | stranger things masterlist

Your eyes scanned along the shelves and grabbed a few supplies you were able to locate. Band-aids, tweezers, a few sticks of beef jerky that were kicked under a shelf, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, and lastly a box of tampons.

“You find anything?” a voice called from the end of the aisle behind you.

Turning around quickly you watched as your friend Wendy walked toward her. Her curly dark hair was pulled loosely from her face into a bun, tendrils falling in front of her face. Blood dotted across her face and blended with the freckles that seemed to kiss her skin more this time of year. The sun is not being gentle even more with the sunburn showing on her shoulders already. You could already hear her higher pitched voice wining about the pain.

“Just a few things, more so for Judy and adding to her medkit.” You shrugged, before tossing your finds into your backpack. “You?”

“Nothing. This place is pretty cleared out. Randall and the other moved to the building next door hoping to find something.”

You scoffed “He needs to stop leaving without everyone accounted for. That’s how we get killed.”

Wendy shrugged rolling her eyes slightly, “He’s a jackass. Come on, we gotta hurry and catch up.”

She playfully bumped your shoulder as she passed you and headed back to the front of the store. Your eyes did a quick sweep to make sure nothing else was missed, before following right behind her. The two of you moved with ease as you jumped back through the window you’d come in from before. Your eyes squinting as the harsh sun came back into your view.

“How much longer do you think we’re gonna be out here? It’s not like we’re find anything.” Wendy asked, “It’s been weeks since our last good search.”

“I don’t know.” You sighed heavily “My mom’s starting to get worried, keeps talking of heading north back to our hometown.”

Wendy’s eyebrows shoot up, “That’s nearly a two-day travel.”

“I know. But all our sources seem to be out here. And she’s got it made up in her head that Hawkins would be better.” You shrugged. “A part of me wants to go back too, see what we can find. We left so much behind when everything was happening.”

As you spoke your hand moved up to the faded and worn down red and black pic that swung from the silver chain around your neck.

“Well…maybe I’ll come with you.” Wendy smiled, swinging her shoulder to wrap and rest around yours. “Not like I have anything holding me here.”

You frowned at her flippant comment.

It had been two years since Wendy’s brother and father died from a mob and her mother dying at the beginning. Leaving her alone, till she’d join the group a few months back. The two of you gravitated toward one another becoming more than best friends.

Wendy was like a sister.

“I would really like that, Wen.” You spoke softly. “I’ll talk to my mom more, convince her on leaving.”

Wendy’s face lit up with a smile that spready across her face and caused her brown eyes to shine.

The familiar sound of a growl snapped you awake and ripped you away from the dream that had clouded your mind. It was rare that you were able to fall asleep without the dark clouds of your nightmares fogging them. You were welcomed with smiles last night instead of screams.

Your head moved from side to side as you tried to find the source of the sound, scrambling to look over the edge of the building you were able to find refuge in. You’d learned quickly while being on your own it was smarter to camp up high, instead of chancing it down below. The sun was barely peaking out from behind the clouds as the morning started to switch back from night. Your heart jumped again when the growl from before sounded louder and multiplied.

The sound a Flayed was enough to churn your stomach with the deepest of dread.

You grabbed your gun from the back of your pants and checked to make sure it was loaded with the safety off. When your gaze returned to the streets below, you saw the movement of them. Shuffling across the overgrown lawn of the business that was across from where you stayed. The blackened veins beneath their skin are dark enough for you to see even at your distance. One’s face nearly decayed back enough that the bone beneath showed.

“Fuck,” You cursed, before moving to line up your shot. You knew the chances of you getting down and past them were slim.

A Flayed’s hearing was something one didn’t want to bet with.

You always came out on the losing side.

Your first shot hit its target.

Its head knocked back from the force of the bullet before the body fell to the ground like dead weight. But the loud cracking sound of the gun alerted the other quickly to your location. Its head snapping with its dead eye seeming to look right at you. The speed that it broke off into was something that one could never get used to. A flayed moved slowly with no motivation till the possibility of a kill presented itself. Then it became the monster it created to be. It’ broke across the street in what felt like mere seconds.

But you were ready, finger pressed against the trigger, before sending a second bullet out. You missed slightly by hitting it on the shoulder. But it was enough to slow it down before you aimed again and sent one through its skull.

You breathed a silent prayer of thanks before letting your body relax. But only for a moment. Knowing the sound of gunshots were only going to bring attention to your location.

You rolled your sleeping bag up tightly and tied it back beneath your bag before looking around and double checking that you’d left nothing else. Once you were satisfied, you moved quickly, climbing back down from the ladder of the fire escape.

You gave no second thought as you walked by the dead bodies of the Flayed before walking down the main road of the familiar small town you were in.

-x-

“It’s been a couple of days since we came across a Flayed.” Robin spoke softly, Steve and Nancy a few paces in front of her. “Think they’ll lesson patrols?”

“The last thing that Hopper is going to want to do is to lesson patrols. That man is more paranoid than ever lately.” Steve shook his head, his grip tight on the bat that rested on his shoulder, nails sticking out of it every direction. The wood is worn and stained from months of use.

“Can you blame him? Sarah only died a few months ago,” Eddie spoke with a heavy sadness in his voice.

His head swiveled slowly as his eyes scanned over the forest that surrounded him. The only thing that could be heard amongst the group was the sound of their shoes against the dead leaves at their feet.

This was Eddie’s second patrol in a couple of days, and it was already starting to ware on him. His shoulders ached from the clearing they’d done from the night before. All he wanted was a shower and his bed but knew that was hours away. But he knew that being out of the camp was better than staying behind and lingering with his guilt. It was getting harder each day to see Hopper as he walked through the halls or sitting at the head table in the meetings.

Hopper had told Eddie that it wasn’t his fault that Sarah was gone.

But his guilt said otherwise.

And hearing her screams in his sleep was enough to make sure that guilt didn’t leave any time soon.

Just as Eddie’s thought almost ran away down the dark hole he was too familiar with lately, the cracking sound of a gunshot cut through the silence. Everyone stopped the moment the sound was heard, their heads turning in the direction of the source.

“That’s coming from downtown,” Nancy said, sliding her knife into her small waist sheath, before reaching back for her Smith & Wesson.

“Wasn’t that cleared four days ago?” Robin asked. “Who else could be this close to town already?”

“Sadly, we’re gonna have to go and find out.” Steve sighed before starting off toward the direction of Downtown Hawkins.

The four of them moved quickly and effortlessly through the forest that was quickly overtaking the small town that once existed. As they grew closer and closer to the city limits the more the old town came to life. But just as they were a couple miles out, Steve froze and threw up two fingers, causing the others to stop with him. Eddie listened closely and soon able to hear what had caught Steve’s attention.

The sound of feet moving through the woods, from the light sound of it, it was only one.

“Nancy and I will take the north,” Steve instructed “You two head in the south and hopefully we corner them. No shots unless needed, we don’t need Flayed and Crawlers coming this way if they are close.”

Eddie nodded his head quickly and stiffly before moving in the opposite direction of Nancy and Steve. He used the fallen trees and bushes as cover unsure of what they were all going to come across in the woods. Flayed was their top concern, but lately strangers were becoming just as dangerous.

“Munson,” Robin whispered harshly, causing Eddie to turn and look in the same direction she was.

His eyes caught movement of a dark form through the trees a few feet in front of them. Already he knew it wasn’t Nancy nor Steve.

“It’s a transient.” Eddie said.

“Think they are from the group last time?” Robin asked, her tone faltering as it shook with worry.

Flashes from the few months before played through Eddie’s mind quickly with flashes of Sarah’s blood warming his hands.

“If it is, we end it now,” Eddie spoke angrily.

AN: please leave or message me your thoughts, would love to know what you think. I'm nervous about this one since it's been a moment since I posted. But it's a nervous & excited feeling.

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lilyway · 8 months

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Icarus {Alastor x Reader} Part 2

Warnings: Blood, Gore, Death and canon-typical violence. Please be aware of these warnings going forward.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Part 2: Desperation

Becoming an exorcist turned out to be the worst decision she had ever made. The only upside, if it could even be called that, was the passage of time becoming practically nonexistent. Days bled into weeks, then into months, and finally into years, each one blending seamlessly into the next.

Each day became a relentless cycle of training under Lute's watchful eye, her body being battered and beaten by her new bosses. Lute’s cruel methods pushed her to her very limit and demanded more. It was clear as day that Lute wanted nothing left of her old self. She would make sure she was battered and bloody, by the end of the day and every time (Name) endured.

Her torture didn’t end when Lute wasn’t around. On the days when Lute was occupied elsewhere, (Name) found herself serving as Adam's secretary and personal assistant. It was the smallest break even if it was humiliating. He treated her like a lowly pet, someone who served to inflate his ego and bring him his food.

They were her masters now, the ones she lived to serve. Being in their "care," if one could call it that, came with its sickening rewards, like scraps tossed to a loyal pet. At first, (Name) accepted these rewards with a forced smile, pretending they meant something to her. But soon, even the pretense of gratitude faded, leaving behind only the bitter taste in her mouth. Even with a smile on her face fading, came the odd feeling of pride.

All that mattered now was keeping her mind occupied, or perhaps empty enough to forget about her old life. In that regard, Lute and Adam were masters of manipulation, expertly shaping her into someone who suited their whims. Serving them became a mindless and demanding task, but it was a distraction — an escape from the memories that threatened to give her a one-way trip to hell.

As she toiled under their watchful eyes, it didn’t take long for her to ascend the hierarchy and become someone "worthy" of standing beside them, or rather, behind them. This newfound position came with its own set of expectations, a particular level of power, and angelic authority. It wasn't long before (Name) realized the significance of those rewards. Each blessing bestowed upon her wasn't just a token of appreciation; it was a manifestation of angelic power, something most angels would dream of possessing.

Blessing after blessing, (Name) accumulated every inch of power she could squeeze out of her mortal life's achievements. But with each blessing came a curse, a reminder that she was owned, that all her power was given, not earned, and that she had none to begin with.

Being dragged around by Adam and Lute catapulted her to the status of a rising star in the Court of Heaven. Yet, each victory felt hollow, devoid of true accomplishment. Whether it was a triumph she didn't deserve or a demeaning task like hand-feeding Adam, the rush of pleasure that followed was quickly overshadowed by a sense of pride. It brought something for her emotionally deprived soul to consume and return her ability to smile. An empty smile that never reaches her eyes.

With every gain, came something to mourn. The woman in the mirror may have looked like her, but she was nothing more than a stranger. Each step up the ladder of power only widened the chasm between who she was and who she had become. The reflection staring back at her held no trace of the spirited girl who once roamed the streets of New Orleans, filled with hope and full of love. Instead, it was a hollow shell, a vessel for every corrupt thing that existed in heaven.

It made her nothing more than a monster in an angel's skin. The pride became a sense of entitlement and I’m better than you attitude. Something she got from Adam, over the years. Lute gave her cruelty as she worked to kill whatever love there was.

With enough power to not make a fool of herself, she was dragged to her first extermination. (Name) quickly learned what being an exorcist actually meant as she flew through the portal and saw hell for the first time. The sight that greeted her was beyond anything she had imagined. The air was thick with the stench of sulfur, and the sky was an ominous shade of crimson. Tormented souls wailed in agony as they were subjected to unimaginable torment by her fellow Exorcists.

Her shell-shocked expression must've been priceless as Adam and Lute teased her for it for weeks. Her jaw fell open as she watched the sinners run for their lives as Lute shoved a halberd into her hands. All she could do was hold onto her newfound weapon until her knuckles were white.

As the chaos unfolded around her, (Name) felt a wave of revulsion wash over her. She wanted no part of this slaughter, no part of the brutality that unfolded before her eyes. The screams of the sinners echoed in her ears, their pleading eyes haunting her every thought.

She remembered muttering that she couldn't do it, that she wanted to go back to Heaven, to return to the simplicity of paperwork or any other mundane task. Her pleas gifted her a solid slap across her face as was dragged into the fray by Lute. She couldn’t even utter a single protest as she was stunned by the levels of violence around her.

(Name) found herself staring at the helpless sinners around her, their terrified faces etched into her memory. Lute's nagging voice pierced through the chaos, reminding her of her duty, of the task at hand. In a haze of confusion and horror, (Name) raised her halberd and struck down a sinner, decapitating him in one swift motion.

As the reality of her actions sank in, (Name) felt her stomach churn with nausea. She looked down and saw the blood pooling at her feet, a cruel reminder of her actions. (Name) took a life, killed a sinner, and gave them their permanent second death.

Lute's amusement only added to (Name)'s distress as she watched the scene unfold before her. The glint of amusement in Lute's eyes sent shivers down her spine. With a heavy heart and trembling hands, (Name) obeyed Lute's orders and carried the severed head to Adam. His praise fell upon her ears like a bitter irony, they were angels, the messengers of heaven.

💟

Seated at the table with Lute and Adam, (Name) struggled to focus on the task at hand. Her mind kept drifting back to the horrors of hell to the faces of the sinners she had condemned, and to the fresh blood that still stained her hands. The blood dripped onto the table and made a small pool under her hands. Despite her best efforts to push the memories aside, they lingered like a dark cloud, she was no better than the two of them.

As Lute and Adam discussed the details of the next extermination, (Name) found herself lost in a whirlwind of emotions. How could she continue to partake in these acts of violence and destruction? Wasn’t this enough to condemn her to hell? To rip her away from everything she was trying to achieve.

There was a sense of resignation, a fleeting acknowledgment that in the presence of Adam and Lute, she found a semblance of security. As long as they remained by her side, she knew she would remain in heaven. That she would remain an angel and never fall. That her actions were just, there was nothing wrong with what she did. Nothing at all.

(Name) forced herself to focus on the task at hand, suppressing the turmoil raging within her. She voiced her opinions and contributed to the planning process, having to remind herself that they deserved this. That they deserved to suffer and die.

The meetings after each extermination soon became a grim tradition, a macabre celebration of a job well done. As (Name) sat at the table with Lute and Adam, she couldn't shake the feeling that their actions were wrong. With each passing extermination, her heart grew twisted and dull.

Despite her reservations, (Name)'s death count continued to rise, and she soon earned a rank of her own, just below Lute. It was a hollow achievement, a mere title that held no power. No matter how high she climbed in their ranks, she would always be at their mercy, subject to their games and harassment whenever they deemed it necessary.

She would be their Maven of Heavens, the exorcist specializing in supporting and neutralizing threats. Their little pet finally upgraded to their marionette who sang and danced to whatever tune they played. As a cruel joke, they stopped calling her by her name and called her by the title they gave her. Her name wasn’t (Name) anymore, it was Maven now. Even with her constant reminders that wasn’t her name, it never stopped.

Yet, she continued to fulfill her duties. There was always an endless list of tasks to complete, responsibilities to shoulder, and goals to achieve. But, more importantly, angelic power to obtain, to squeeze until there was nothing left. Until (Name) was gone and only Maven remained.

Everything she was given was always funneled back into the extermination, every drop of her blood and power was in the service of killing every sinner she came across. Her blessings pulled from the good she did in life, were twisted and reshaped into tools of war. The war she wanted no part of, the stupid war that Lute and Adam plotted a way to maximize their slaughter.

Oh, (Name) attended those meetings, with a thick book and record player. Letting them go on about strategy and how fun it would be. While she enjoyed her books and scrolls on the history of heaven.

The exorcists' fervent hatred for the sinners metastasized like a virulent plague, infecting their hearts and minds with a ruthless thirst for bloodshed. Year after year, the fervor grew, driving them deeper into a mindless frenzy. It was a far cry from the vision of salvation that (Name) had envisioned when she first grasped Lute's hand.

Following Lute and Adam in their twisted version of righteousness, there was little room for thought and that’s what she wanted. Her days became a routine of plotting the demise of sinners and going out to have coffee with Lute. While making sure Adam remained the moral beacon that he was supposed to be. Virtue wasn’t his strong suit and his ego was bigger than heaven itself. It was a two-person job, unfortunately. It was a life devoid of joy or meaning, a hollow existence, but it kept her in heaven.

Out of everything Lute and Adam did to her, there was one thing that always got under her skin. They never treated her blessings with respect and only remembered them when the extermination came around. How she despised them for it — no, hated them for it.

Her gifts were not intended for slaughter; they were meant to protect souls. To see them twisted into instruments of violence and manipulation filled her with seething anger. There was enough anger to rip Adam to bloody shreds and the thought was tempting.

He took the purity of her voice, something that brought her solace and joy became a weapon in Adam’s war. Once able to soothe troubled souls, lured sinners into her grasp like unwitting prey. The chains she wove with her voice bound them in place, ensnaring them as they fell in her view. It was nothing more than a curse now. Something that tainted her conscience to the point she didn’t use it unless she had to.

There was one blessing that slapped her in the face over any other and that was her healing ability. What should have been a gift of empathy and mercy, joined the rest of her curses. Becoming a symbol of her inability to show even a shred of mercy to any sinner. The touch from her brought only agony and death, as the holy flames consumed anyone who wasn’t a winner.

The first extermination after she obtained her blessing, became a day she’d never forget. There was a young hellborn child injured and cowering in the alleyways. The child stared at her with innocent eyes as she muttered things she couldn’t hear. (Name) did her best to soothe the child, she had never harmed a child in her life and offered to heal her. When she did, holy flames consumed the girl and she burned to death.

(Name) just stared at the burning corpse and stepped back until she hit Adam’s back. He gave her a strong pat on the back as a job well done as they found it amusing. They thought her torment was funny, that killing a hellborn child was okay.

There was only one blessing; they couldn’t taint with their cruelty. The blessing given to her by her final actions in life. How she tried to shield those women from harm became a holy shield in her afterlife. A shield made of golden light that surrounded her allies. It was a simple little thing and absolutely useless. Sinners never fought back.

(Name) used it to prevent minor injury when it came to training with Lute. While during exterminations, it was primarily used to create a layer between her body and hell. She never wanted her body to ever come into contact with that place. Ever.

How she hated that place and gave up her freedom to avoid being sent there. The place that she blames all her problems on as she had to kill her heart to survive. Cha

Heavens, how she wanted that place gone.

💟

As the time for their yearly extermination approached, the exorcists prepared themselves for battle. (Name) sat beside Lute, clad in a long black dress with a translucent veil obscuring her face, her halberd resting casually on her shoulder. Lute meticulously inspected her minimal armor for imperfections.

Meanwhile, Adam took center stage, his pre-rally speech a cacophony of fervor and anticipation. With zeal in his voice and fire in his eyes, he rallied the exorcists for what he deemed their "slaughter party," his words stoking the flames of excitement and bloodlust in the room.

"You're as quiet as ever," Lute's voice lingered in the air, momentarily breaking through the noise surrounding them.

(Name) turned to face her as she watched Lute continue getting ready. "There's nothing to say," (Name) replied, her voice barely audible amidst the roaring of the crowd. "Besides, you don't like it when I talk."

Lute shot her a small glare, her eyes daring her to keep talking. "Right. Do you ever wonder why?"

"No," (Name)'s response was curt as she turned away, her attention drawn to Adam who was now pointing in their direction.

"Everyone remembers last year's extermination, right?" Adam's voice boomed, cutting through the chatter and drawing the attention of the assembled exorcists. (Name)'s heart dropped as she prayed he wouldn't mention their bet.

As her shoulders slumped and her halberd slipped from her grasp, (Name) sighed heavily. She fumbled forward to retrieve it, only to find Adam standing right in front of her, a large box in his hands.

“Maven lost the bet! She messed up real fucking bad and had to retreat! And you know what that means!” Adam's voice thundered, his words like a sharp slap to her senses as he shoved a box into her hands.

“What?” (Name) asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she stared down at the ivory box.

The ivory box felt heavy in (Name)'s hands, but it wasn’t as heavy as her failure from last year. She couldn't bring herself to open it, fearing what lay inside, fearing the humiliation that could be inside. Adam’s punishments were always the humiliating sort and whatever he had in store for her was bound to be one of his worst.

Adam's smirk loomed large as he leaned in closer, relishing in her discomfort. " Open it, Maven ," he commanded, his voice dripping with malice.

There was a delicate white dress lay nestled in the ivory box, its intricate embroidery catching the dim light of the dressing room. Her heart sank as she realized the gravity of Adam's twisted punishment – was he making her wear a wedding dress on extermination day?

“It's wedding time, Maven!” Adam's words cut through the air, dripping with sarcasm and malice, as he gestured to the dress with mock enthusiasm. His finger guns only added to the surreal absurdity.

“You're kidding,” she managed to choke out, her voice laced with disbelief and irritation. Another exorcist shoved her into one of the spare dressing rooms and slammed the door in her face.

“Lute! Some help, please!” Her voice carried desperation, but it was met only with silence as Lute returned to Adam's side, her allegiance unwavering.

“Whatever Adam says is law. Remember, Maven ?” Lute's words cut through the air like a blade,

Adam, just you wait. I’m going to tear your flesh piece by piece off your bones. The thought tempted her to go for his throat this instant, but she wouldn’t make it far.

With a grumble of frustration, (Name) reluctantly opened the box, her fingers trembling slightly as she extracted the puffy dress from within. It bore a striking resemblance to the attire worn by the seraphim, albeit fashioned for special occasions, and Adam's mockery was evident in his choice.

As (Name) held the delicate white dress in her hands, memories flooded her mind, transporting her back in time. She hadn’t worn anything like this since her wedding, and walked down the aisle to Alastor with the biggest smile she had. It was the happiest day in her life. (Name) bit down on her bottom lip as Adam banged on the door telling her to hurry up. She didn’t care about Adam telling her to hurry it up and returned to staring at the dress.

She had buried those memories deep within her soul, afraid that revisiting them would only reopen old wounds and condemn her to a life of unending suffering.

Yet, as her fingers traced the intricate embroidery, she couldn’t help herself. The gentle strains of music, the fragrance of flowers, the loving gaze of her husband as she walked down the aisle into his waiting embrace.

You look beautiful, my belle. Your beauty surpasses any other dame in New Orleans.

It was a distasteful gesture, using such a garment as a gag during their preparations for battle. Nevertheless, (Name) resigned herself to the task at hand, hastily shedding her attire and struggling into the gown unaided. Each layer of silk and lace seemed to cascade around her form, pooling at her feet as she emerged from the dressing room. It wasn’t something she would’ve preferred to wear, she preferred her plain black dress. Wearing white on a battlefield would just show all the blood. Maybe that was the purpose of the dress, to show her how tainted she was.

Stepping back out came with a roar of laughter as she stood outside of her changing room. As Adam's laughter echoed through the room, (Name) felt her cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. With Lute's joining in and the chorus of laughter growing louder, (Name) walked back to her halberd that was in Lute’s hands and snatched it back.

Returning to her previous seat, she started fixing her hair and pulling it back into a messy bun. She hated being the butt of the joke and that she was powerless to do anything about it. All she could do was place a mask over her face and wait for it to subside.

“Happy?” she retorted, her voice laced with sarcasm as she pulled her veil back down over her face. (Name) resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Adam's patronizing remarks, her frustration simmering beneath the surface. His attempts to lighten the mood only grated on her nerves further.

“Look at that! Someone's all pissy that she had to suffer her consequences.” Adam's taunt washed over her like a wave, his words stinging with their underlying mockery. She shot him a glare, refusing to dignify his jibes with a response.

“Come on, Maven! Lighten up a little, live a little, ” Adam insisted, his tone laced with false cheer as he pulled her to her feet. His encouragement felt more like a thinly veiled threat, a reminder of the consequences that were waiting for her if she disobeyed him. “It’s extermination day! Smile!”

Forcing a strained smile onto her face, (Name) nodded curtly as Adam released her. She smoothed the wrinkles from her sleeves with brisk motions and quickly took her place behind Lute and Adam.

As Adam's speech unfolded, (Name) listened with a mixture of disdain and resignation. His words dripped with arrogance and self-importance, a reflection of his inflated ego and insatiable desire for adulation. It was a familiar rhetoric, one she had grown accustomed to over the years – the sinners were ungrateful, they owed everything to him, and they should worship the ground he walked on.

It sickened her to see how he was idolized in heaven, despite his egotism and blatant disregard for others. His constant reminders of his role in the creation of humanity only served to further inflate his already bloated sense of self-worth.

With an exuberant cry, Adam's voice got everyone to their feet as the portal to hell opened up behind them. "Let's kick some fucking ass!"

Lute and Adam wasted no time, darting through the yawning gateway and soaring into the darkened skies of Hell. (Name) lingered behind to cast a quick shield and flew after them with her weapon in hand. Their arrival came with the screams of the sinners below, who either didn’t bother to run or didn’t prepare beforehand.

She had no empathy for them, there was nothing she could do if that empathy worked. Flying high in hell’s skies with reckless abandon she would commence her purge.

With a haunting melody, (Name)'s voice cut through the desolate streets of Hell, her song weaving through the air like a lament for lost souls. " Thou seek the dark with an unsheathed blade .” She sang, her voice a somber intensity that seemed to reverberate off the walls.

" Now a white, ivory throne beckons, " She continued. The air itself seemed to shiver with the intensity of her song.

" So obtain the fate you sow, " This was the slaughter that they sought, their punishments for their misdeeds.

"On this path, be weary, friend and foe,”

As her song echoed through the streets, the sinners below stirred. Like puppets on strings, they moved in a silent, solemn march toward her, their bodies betraying them as they succumbed to the irresistible call of her song.

From her elevated vantage point, (Name) watched with a mixture of determination to see her job done. Her eyes pierced down at them as she gazed down at the doomed sinners.

"Join in the tale, in the blight, of conquest and lies,"

Golden chains slithered from her wings, wrapping around the ankles of the sinners below, binding them to the blood-soaked streets. With each link, their movements became restricted, and their futile struggles were quickly silenced by a slice of the exorcist’s lances.

"Come the sun, to tarnish in the sky," she sang, her voice resonating with a haunting quality that seemed to reverberate throughout the bloody streets.

Her voice, laden with empty sorrow, echoed back to her ears, eliciting a shudder of discomfort. It was a sensation she loathed with a fervent passion. (Name) couldn’t believe that was how she sounded now. “Vow that we shall tear the light.”

Like sailors answering a siren's call, more sinners walked out as if entranced, walking willingly toward their inevitable demise. She could call them fools, but in truth, they had little choice in the matter. “Dark seize the throne.”

“Lost in thoughts, all alone.” Her voice carried a melancholic resonance, echoing through the desolate streets of Hell. With a swift motion, she hurled her halberd down below, its blade finding its mark and ending the struggles of a sinner who dared to claw at her chains. “ You are an ocean of waves, weaving a dream.”

"Like thoughts become a river stream,” She descended to retrieve her weapon, her gaze fixed upon the pleading sinners below. Their cries for mercy fell on deaf ears, there was no escape. "Yet may the tide ever change, flowing like time,"

"To the path, yours to claim. Thou seek the dark with an unsheathed blade," (Name) kept singing as she approached the next sinner, her halberd poised for judgment. "So obtain the fate you sow," she intoned solemnly, her blade descending with a swift, decisive strike. The sinner's blood spattered across her face and stained her once-white dress.

(Name) watched as Lute flew down and cut them down as Adam shot beams of light down. That was her sign to keep moving and that her job wasn’t over. “Thou seek the light with an outstretched hand,” Her song wouldn’t end until she chained every last sinner in hell. “A divine blade lies before you.”

High above the desolate streets of Hell, (Name) soared, her voice echoing through the twisted alleys and shadowy corners. "So command the wake of dreams. To restore the world, cut 'way the seams."

"Join in our prayer, in our song of birthrights and love." As she sang the words her heart cried for her to stop. The walls around her heart began to crack, as emotion poured through. Why was she doing this? Who was she singing for? Herself or to get someone else’s attention?

“Come the sun, illuminate the sky.” She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she flew higher in hell's skies. “ Pray that we may quell the dark.”

There’s my belle! Did you have a good day at work, my darling? (Name)'s mind jolted at the unexpected intrusion of her husband's voice echoing in her thoughts. The familiarity of his words sent a shiver down her spine. She blinked, trying to shake off the sensation, but his voice lingered like an unwelcome guest.

No. No. Focus on the task at hand. “Light take the throne.” (Name) lightly smacked herself on the side of her head before returning her gaze to the streets below.

Her heart weighed heavy with the absence of the sinners she expected to heed her call. With each passing moment, her frantic search for the sinners took on an air of urgency. Her movements betrayed the facade of composure she sought to maintain. They always answered her call, she never needed to go out of her way to search for them.

The few sinners that appeared had their ankles quickly bound as (Name) started to boil with anger at her failure. Where were they? The real question was why was she acting so desperate? Her every movement screamed that she was searching for someone. She would never search for a sinner in her life.

There’s my dearly beloved, my little belle, my canary. The echoes of her husband's voice reverberated through (Name)'s mind like ghostly whispers. She was losing her mind the longer she stayed in this horrible place. (Name) didn’t deserve this torture. She wanted nothing more than a mind empty of worries and any memory of her life when she was alive.

Alastor was here. (Name)'s thoughts, driving her forward with a singular focus that bordered on obsession. He had to be here . There was a terrible feeling in her gut, what would happen if she found him in her current state? She’d just lure him to his death by either her hand or the hand of her fellow exorcists.

“May thy chosen path lead way and grace you with virtue,”

Each note she sang bore the weight of her longing, her heartache laid bare for all to hear. It was a cry from the depths of her being, a call for him to come out. She just wanted to see him, all be damned.

“But surely a balance awaits.” This was wrong. This was a fool’s errand, she had to stop before she went out looking for him. She could feel the cracks forming in her mental defenses.

“So be it bliss or pain you gain.” Look for me Alastor, I’m right here. No, this is wrong. I shouldn’t be doing this. “Descend into the abyss thou see.”

(Name), will you marry me? As (Name) heard those words echoing in her mind, her heart skipped a beat, and her breath caught in her throat. Fueled by recklessness she abandoned her mission as an exorcist and began her search.

“Where the hearts of many wander,”

Alastor, please let me see you. I’m right here! That’s all I need and I’ll go back. Please.

“Quietly, they wish and weave.”

She descended back to the streets, (Name) scanning the faces of the sinners in her chains, a mixture of frustration and determination coursed through her veins. None of these sinners were her beloved Alastor, chaining them to the ground, she returned to the skies. With the hope, she could lure him out with her song.

“Placing hope inside their one, pure dream.” She found herself straying further from the safety that Lute and Adam provided. Flying further fueled by desperation for one moment of joy. “After the storm stills its wake, may all be blessed.”

(Name) needed to be louder to make him hear her. She didn’t care if the whole pride ring could hear her. She didn’t give a damn, she needed to be heard. “ So the fate and fallen can find rest.”

Her song was interrupted as she felt something grab onto her ankle and flung into the crumbling building. The air escaped her lungs as she gasped in pain. Her mask tumbled from her face, falling back into her lap as she quickly straightened her veil over her face. With each ragged breath, (Name) struggled to rise, her limbs heavy, as howled in pain.

As her hair cascaded down her back, freed from its confining bun, (Name)'s fingers sought solace in the familiar touch of the ribbon that bound it. With trembling hands, she clutched the ribbon close to her chest. She needed something to grip on as she coughed up the blood that was stuck in her throat.

(Name)'s fingers clenched around the sturdy shaft of her halberd, the familiar weight grounding her as she pulled herself upright. She whispered a prayer as her body was surrounded by a golden light, (Name) felt the searing pain ebb away, replaced by a soothing warmth that spread through her limbs. The injuries inflicted upon her began to mend, the broken bones knitting back together and the deep gashes closing with miraculous speed.

She didn't know who would have the nerve to strike back at an exorcist, she did commend them for their recklessness. If they wanted to fight, they sure had one now. (Name) by no means having a repeat of last year and getting thrown across half a block into a building by a child. They may have gotten the upper hand briefly, but she was going to make sure they paid for it with their lives.

“Aren't you a rude one?” (Name) shouted as looked around for the foolish sinner. “Hiding? Show yourself!” She commanded as she felt something wicked surround her.

The force of the blow shattered her barrier and left (Name) defenseless. Her body had to feel the wind in her hair, feel their blood on her hands. She would kill that damn sinner and make sure she sent him to his permanent afterlife herself.

Despite her pitiful appearance with blood and dirt staining her once pristine white dress. It was slightly torn by the impact, but it wasn’t too badly damaged. Adam might not care about tradition in heaven but she sure did and she was going to make sure she showed her dress the respect it deserved.

“Well, well. You aren't looking so good, my dear.” The sound of the man's voice, distorted by static, seemed awfully familiar.

(Name)'s heart raced as she felt the weight of those glowing red eyes bore into her very soul. Instinctively, she knew that lurking within the shadows was a presence that spelled danger.

The demonic eyes deeper into the shadows with every step she took towards them. Her steps were quick until she saw a dark alleyway and froze. She wasn’t going to go in there. The last time she went into an alley like this she got herself killed.

Taking multiple steps back around the corner and turning around to run around the corner. (Name) stumbled over the dismembered leg of a sinner, her heart lurched with a mixture of horror and frustration. The sudden obstacle sent her tumbling forward, her hands reaching out instinctively to break her fall.

With a sickening rip, her dress tore beneath her weight, the fabric giving way to the unforgiving ground beneath her. (Name)'s breath caught in her throat as she felt the sharp sting of pain shoot through her body.

A tall figure, shrouded in darkness, leaned down just enough for (Name) to discern his unsettling smile. “Well, well. What do we have here?” His voice carried an eerie undertone that stirred something within her, leaving her staring up at him as if she had seen a ghost.

“Who are you?” Her voice emerged as a hoarse whisper, disbelief coloring every syllable. The encounter felt surreal, defying all logic and reason.

“Allow me to introduce myself!” His words flowed with a strange theatricality as if he were performing on a stage. “Alastor, a pleasure to be meeting you.”

As he introduced himself again, it felt like every defense she had meticulously constructed crumbled into a million shattered fragments. (Name) could almost hear the sound of her walls shattering along with her composure.

Blinking, she forced herself to stand tall and approached him, her wings drooping under the weight of her emotion.

Why so glum, my dearest. Smile for me, there's nothing you can't handle. How his voice haunted her as she felt it tickle her ear. These words weren’t real, they were in her mind. This wasn’t real.

Her voice quivered with a mix of disbelief and anguish as she uttered, "Is this some sort of cruel joke?" She despised how small and broken she sounded, the raw vulnerability in her tone.

His response came smooth and unwavering. "Cruel joke? By no means," he countered, his words laced with a hint of amusement as he leaned closer, invading her personal space. Instinctively, (Name) recoiled and stepped back.

How his marriage vows echoed in her mind as she could still vividly hear him say ‘I do’ after the priest read out the usual ones.

As (Name) hesitated, torn between hope and dread, her gaze lingered on the figure before her. Tall and imposing, his presence commanding attention even in the dimly lit alleyway. Atop his head perched a pair of fluffy deer ears, a peculiar addition to his enigmatic appearance. They seemed out of place yet strangely fitting, adding an air of whimsy to his otherwise ominous presence.

(Name)'s voice trembled as she spoke, her heart pounding in her ears. "Al? Is that you?" she asked, her words hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

The demon grinned in response, his expression twisted with a hint of mischief. “In the flesh, my darling.”

Her doubts surged forward like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf her fragile hope. "Impossible. Absolutely impossible, " she muttered under her breath, her gaze flickering to the halberd clutched loosely in her fingers.

The demon's grin only widened as (Name)'s grip tightened around the pole of her halberd. She could feel the weight of doubt and disbelief pressing down on her, swallowing her hope whole.

"You're not him," she stated firmly, her voice filled with hatred. She needed to be strong, this was a trick of hell playing a rather distasteful one on her.

The demon raised a brow, observing (Name)'s desperate struggle against her encroaching madness. Her thoughts betrayed the fragile state of her mind, as her sanity quickly slipped through her fingers like grains of sand.

(Name) swung her halberd through the air with a desperate slash. With practiced ease, the demon evaded her slashing attack, moving with a fluidity that seemed otherworldly. Her veil caught with her swing pulled it off her face. Grabbing her veil from her weapon she threw it back over her face.

A glimmer of something indefinable flickered in his eyes, softening his expression ever so slightly. Her heart dropped as his expression softened.

“You're just an imitation. You're not real! " (Name)'s voice echoed with desperation, repeating the words like a mantra as her frustration bubbled to the surface. With each repetition, her tone grew louder until it erupted into a vehement shout directed at the demon before her.

"Such aggression, my dear," He remarked, his voice laced with amusement as he effortlessly evaded her frenzied attacks. Despite her fervent attempts to drive him away, he danced around her with an eerie grace.

"Aggression? You demons want to tell me about aggression!" (Name)'s words dripped with disdain. She refused to accept this mockery of her beloved Alastor. (Name) clinging to the hope that he wasn’t here or that he died his second death years ago.

"I could say the same to you," he mused, gracefully evading her swing as he retreated. "Angels, my dear, always so enamored with aggression.”

“Our actions are just.” My actions are always just. She thought as her swings grew more desperate, losing their grace. Her form was well abandoned by now as she threw swing after swing.

“You're telling that to yourself,” he countered, stepping closer, his presence unsettling her balance.

“Even if I am, that has nothing to do with you!”

(Name)'s desperate swings met only the mocking laughter, his amusement apparent in every blow she missed. Her desperate swings met only the mocking laughter of Alastor, his amusement a haunting melody in the air. As her final swing cut through the air, she overextended, her balance faltering as she slipped on her gown.

But then, a sudden weight pressed against her, breaking her fall with an unexpected gentleness. She glanced up at the demon who was now inches away from her face. Alastor caught her, he was real.

Her honey-brown eyes showed the emotion she couldn’t voice. "Back to your feet," Alastor's voice, being so close to her ears, resonated through her soul. Shattering the defenses she built around her heart to keep her emotions in.

As he gently lifted her, her weapon fell forgotten to the ground. “Thank you.” She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

In the quiet moments that followed, a profound silence hung between them. (Name) struggled to come to terms with the reality as she stared at her husband. He was real, tangible, her husband was standing right there.

“What happened to you?”

“Whatever, do you mean?” His response, accompanied by that ever-present smile, made him unreadable.

“Do you remember me?” She had almost forgotten how it felt to be vulnerable with someone else. Her voice quivered as she tried to smile through her watering eyes. “It's me, Al. It's your belle.”

(Name)'s hands trembled as she reached up to remove her veil, revealing the raw vulnerability etched across her tear-streaked face. Strands of hair danced wildly in the static-charged air, framing her features in disarray. Clenching her fist around the fabric of her veil, hoping to relieve some of her emotion.

Alastor didn’t answer her question and instead gave her a type of smile she couldn’t puzzle out.

"Alastor?" Her voice carried the weight of a thousand unspoken questions, a plea for reassurance. Stepping into his personal space, her hate for his fellow sinners quickly was left behind as she hesitated to reach out and touch his cheek. Her gaze searched for any sign of recognition, any flicker of the man she once knew.

"Can I touch you?" The question hung in the air like a delicate thread, tethering her to the hope of rekindling the bond they once shared. It was a plea for permission, a silent request for them to go back to the times when they were alive.

Then, with a subtle nod, Alastor granted her permission, his acquiescence a silent acknowledgment of the tangled web of emotions that bound them together. As the veil slipped from her grasp, cascading to the floor like a fallen dream.

With trembling hands and a heart heavy with longing, she reached out to him, her arms wrapping around his form in a tentative embrace. As she pressed her face into his chest, she finally let out the tears she held for so many years

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, her voice barely above a breath. “ I’m sorry.”

"Why, pray tell, are you apologizing?” Alastor's interruption was firm yet tender, his words a balm to the wounds that had festered within (Name)'s heart for far too long.

“For leaving you behind, for not coming sooner, for becoming this.”

As he gently pressed her face into the soft fabric of his chest, she felt a rush of warmth and solace wash over her, dispelling the shadows of doubt and guilt that had haunted her for years.

“That's quite enough, my belle,”

(Name)'s grip tightened around the fabric of his suit, her fingers seeking refuge in the familiarity of his presence. At that moment, all she wanted was to hold onto him, to imprint the contours of his form onto her memory.

As the moments slipped away like sand through an hourglass, (Name) became acutely aware of the passing of time, the weight of duty pressing down upon her like a heavy cloak. Despite the solace she found in Alastor's embrace, she knew that she couldn’t linger here.

“Something on your mind?” His voice was something she'd miss when she would have to return to heaven.

“I have to go back,” she confessed, the words tumbling from her lips with a sense of urgency. She pressed herself closer to him, seeking some sort of reassurance in his warmth.

“As you should, my belle.”

It broke her heart as she pushed herself off him. “Right. Unless you want me to stay?” Please tell me I can, Lute and Adam be damned. The words never left her lips as she deflated knowing it wouldn't be fair to him.

"This realm isn't fit for dames like you, (Name). Hell wasn't crafted for the likes of you, my belle."

“But, I finally found you again,”

As (Name)'s voice trembled with emotion, Alastor's response was firm, his words cutting through the air with a sense of finality. "And let it be the last."

The disbelief in (Name)'s eyes was palpable. "You're pulling my leg, Alastor." Her flicker of hope was extinguished as soon as it appeared.

But Alastor's tone remained unwavering, his gaze steady as he spoke again. "My beloved belle, you are out of place here. Hell has no place for you."

"I'll come back," She declared with unwavering resolve. "I'll come back every year. I won't stop until you let me stay."

“Your visits would indeed be lovely, but alas, the answer remains a resolute no,”

“Mark my words, I'll be back.”

Bending down and picking up her halberd and veil from the ground. She didn't care about fixing her hair and threw it partially over her face. (Name)'s steps echoed through the narrow alleyway, the weight of her emotions heavy upon her shoulders. Her grip tightened around the halberd, the cool metal offering some semblance of comfort amidst the turmoil within her.

As she emerged from the shadows of the alley, Hell's streets greeted her once more. But before she could take another step, a gentle tap on her shoulder halted her movements. Turning slowly, she found herself face to face with Alastor who was very much in her personal space.

“Al?”

His lips met hers in a tender embrace, igniting a rush of emotions within her that she had long suppressed. With abandon, she abandoned her weapon once again and reached out to hold his cheeks, her touch trembling with longing and affection.

"Happy belated anniversary, (Name)," He whispered.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she returned his sentiment, her voice choked with emotion. "Happy belated anniversary, my darling. Take care of yourself, I'll be back next year."

He gently urged her to depart. “Off you go now!”

“You know, I’d give up forever to stay here.” Alastor's expression softened as her words pained him. ,

"I know you would, my dear," He murmured. “It’s time to go.”

With a nod, she took her weapon and flew back to the skies. She watched Alastor disappear into the shadows as she continued her song until Adam opened the portal and they all returned home.

💟

As (Name) stepped foot back into heaven, the weight of her encounter with Alastor still heavy on her heart, she was met with an unexpected and unwelcome greeting from Lute. Her fist connected with such force that it knocked her off her feet, sending her crashing back to the ground.

“What the fuck was that?” Lute's voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Her glare told another story as she pulled herself back up.

“Where the fuck were you?” Lute's frustration simmered, her eyes boring into (Name) with an intensity that made her squirm.

“Killing sinners.”

“Sure, you were. I saw you being flung into a building and disappearing,” Lute countered.

“I was knocked out.”

Adam's callous words hung in the air like a toxic fog, his laughter a discordant melody against the backdrop of tension. “She is pretty weak,” Adam remarked, his tone laced with mockery as he reminisced about past encounters. “You had to drag her back so many times, good times.”

Lute narrowed her eyes. “I'm going to break every single bone in your body. And I don't want to hear a scream.”

“Do your worst.”

That must've pissed her off as her hit threw her back against the wall as her blood escaped her lips. (Name) didn't know where her confidence came from as she took blow after blow.

There was something to look forward to after this was all over.

💟

The song is Lost in Thoughts Amalee version its the 6 minute one.

Maven means someone who's experienced or knowledgeable. It's an ironic title for our main girl. Since she took Lute's deal without knowing anything.

I struggled to pick the song for this part. Originally it was FF10-2's 1000s words as my first choice. This was almost 19 pages LOL There's one more part left that I'm currently editing. Please look forward to it. I might make this into a series. But, who knows.

#alastor x reader

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rashomonss · 2 years

Text

A HUMANS WRATH

Part VI

previous part

taglist: @miridiums-writing, @zerchlia, @aeongiies, @xmoogx, @coffeeandtealol, @shizunxie, @food-lover9000, @exactlydeafeningmusic, @l0diluvs, @vichsy, @valeriele3, @entolomaeden, @acaribeau, @sillybeanzo, @jessiegerl, @capricorn-anon, @crescentworld, @g-l-1-t-c-h-3-r, @chumbinhoeba, @chaos-n-kindness

a/n: I’m quite glad because I finally have this story almost done! As of now I’m estimating 5 to 7 more chapters left so that’s exciting! anyway let’s get on with the story! (Also for those wondering yes I’m also working on requests from my latest post)

a shift back to the original perspective

“I can’t deal with this any longer Lucifer it’s like torture!” Asmo cried, as he leaned onto his older brother’s shoulder.

“Asmodeus get off of me and pull yourself together” Lucifer sighed.

“But-“

“Enough” the eldest said, raising his voice.

Asmo was taken back a bit at his brother's harsh tone but nonetheless went back to moping. He couldn’t really blame Lucifer because everyone was on edge due to Mc’s harsh behavior. Well everyone except the residents in Purgatory Hall. They were constantly visited by Mc which caused inevitable tension between them and the brothers.

However what no one could figure out was how this drastic change in personality came to be. After all Mc was perfectly fine at the beginning of the week, everything was fine at the beginning of the week.

Well everyone guessed the old saying was true, you don’t know what you have until you lose it. And they sure as hell were upset about losing your personality.

It started off with them believing you had a bad dream of sorts, however when you returned after your stay at Purgatory Hall still upset at them, the brothers racked their brains trying to figure out what they did to make you so upset.

However when they confronted you about the issue you laughed in their faces. Saying something along the lines of “If you seriously don’t know what’s wrong then why waste your breath taking to me, go make yourself useful and bother someone else”

The reaction they got was unexpected to say the least and you hadn’t planned on opening up anytime soon so the brothers went to their last resort. They all had asked Solomon to do a bit of investigating for them as a favor of sorts; of course they would have asked the prince or his butler but as of late you wanted nothing to do with them.

Diavolo felt hurt by this fact because you were his exchange student and at the end of the day it was his job to make sure you were comfortable down here. And if he couldn’t even do that then what was the purpose of this program. So he too went to Solomon asking for a favor, even for a second Simeon had crossed his mind too, but he decided against it.

So with everything set in motion the angels and sorcerer decided to invite you over to try a new batch of tea Simeon received from the Celestial Realm after classes had finished. They were also able to get Luke a private lesson with Barbatos to ensure he didn’t get caught up in drama. The younger angel knew something was up with you however he humored the other two because he wanted you to get back to normal, plus it gave him time to perfect a new recipe.

______

You and Solomon had finished up your last minute studying for the day and were currently on your way to Purgatory Hall to meet Simeon for tea.

As small talk was made you decided to bring up a question that had been plaguing you for a few days.

“Solomon, I have a question to ask,” you said, facing the sorcerer in question.

“What is it?” He replied, curious to know what you would bring up.

“How many demons do I have a pact with?”

The question took Solomon by surprise and he gave you a concerned look. After all he hardly remembered each of his 72 pacts, but for you to ask such a question when you only had seven was a bit well…concerning.

“You have 7 Mc, one with each of the brothers. Why do you ask?”

“Hmm oh no reason” you responded.

It’s as you thought, this was either the future, a dream, or something else entirely different. After all the current you wouldn’t have a bunch of pictures of those demons on your wall. And last time you checked there were two extra pact marks that weren’t previously there, both bearing different symbols you weren’t familiar with. So it had to belong to Lucifer and Belphegor.

It was a bit odd really, because you had known the brothers to be clingy but now they were just going overboard with their affection and concerns. But in all honesty it was hilarious to you that they didn’t understand why you were mad at them, since you remembered to remind them everyday. No matter though it wouldn’t be long before you blew up on them anyway.

“Are you okay Mc?” Solomon asked, nudging you a bit with his arm.

“Huh? Oh yeah sorry I guess I just spaced out a bit”

“Well it’s fine, since we’re already here”

“Oh I guess you’re right,” you laughed.

“Hey you two! The tea just finished so why don’t you have a seat, I’ll grab some cookies too” Simeon said, opening the door to greet you both.

You and Solomon smiled and headed towards the couch in the middle of the living room. Once the two of you got settled Simeon joined you with the tea and refreshments he promised.

So far everything was going well, the two thought. You were always comfortable around them so they never really struggled to get you to talk or open up about any problems. You were currently talking about your day when you had made a snarky comment about one of the brothers then continued on with your story.

Solomon thought now would be a good time to question you since you were the one to bring up the demons. He looked towards Simeon for a reassuring answer and the latter nodded in agreement.

“So Mc what’s the deal with you and the brothers lately? Well actually what did those demons do to upset you this much” Solomon asked, laughing just a bit.

You cocked your eyebrow at his statement and narrowed your eyes the slightest before responding. “I’m still upset for the same reason I’ve always been, nothing has changed except for the fact they refuse to leave me alone now”

“The same reason? What have they done previously” Simeon asked, now curious about your answer.

“I’ve told both of you why I’m upset with them countless times?” You questioned “ Or did you both just forget”

“I’m sorry Mc but I can’t remember you complaining about the brothers in a way like that” Solomon replied.

“Yes he’s right, if anything the brothers are nothing but nice to you? Well there are those few times where they drag you into their schemes, but overall they love and dote on you very much Mc” Simeon added.

“Oh yeah because they all loved and doted on me when Belphegor killed me” you responded rolling your eyes.

Both men went silent and shared a shocked expression wondering if the other heard what had come out of your mouth correctly.

“Belphegor did what to you..?” Solomon asked.

You glanced over him and responded cautiously. “He killed me. I’ve told you both this before why are you making those faces”

“We’ve never heard of anything like this before Mc..” Simeon responded horrified.

“Well if you must know, then I’ll explain it again”

And you did just that. You gave them every single detail of that day to the two sitting right in front of you; and like a good audience they listened.

They listened to how you explained the sensation of dying, as well as the way it felt to be betrayed when you were only trying to help. They listened to every word that left your mouth good and bad, waiting, hoping, even praying that this wasn’t true.

It couldn’t be. There was absolutely no way the brothers would do that to you, they loved you. After all there was no way Diavolo or Lucifer could let you die, it was their job to keep you safe.

Is what they thought until you explained to them the conditions Diavolo and Barbatos gave you when you returned back in time. In a sense Diavolo could even be at fault for your death.

The more they listened the worse their heads felt, there wasn’t any way this could be real, yet the way you describe each detail with such emotion they couldn’t believe anything otherwise.

After you finished they each took turns asking an occasional question waiting for your response. However one thing was for certain, you were to stay away from those demons at all costs and they would have a word with them tomorrow.

______

The doors to the RAD student council room opened to reveal one human and angel considerably angry.

“What’s up with you two?” Mammon asked, confused.

“Did the talk with Mc go well?” Diavolo questioned, a bit concerned by their reaction.

“It went considerably well actually” Solomon responded crossing his arms

“That’s great! What did you three talk about?” Asmo exclaimed.

“Oh you know the usual, Mc’s day, the tea I prepared, classes and such too.” Simeon started. “But one thing each of you failed to mention was the fact that Belphegor here killed Mc”

Each demon in the room tensed at the mention of that day. No one knew what to say, after all it was just agreed collectively to never be brought up again. So why now? Why was this issue arising again? Why was Mc still talking about it? Hadn’t they forgiven Belphie?

“Where did you hear that from?” Lucifer was the first to break the silence.

“From Mc themselves, after all they relayed each detail to us yesterday” Solomon responded.

“But Mc never brings up stuff like that! So why now?” Mammon added.

“I actually might have a theory about that.” Barbatos said, clearing his throat.

“Oh, well please enlighten us,” Simeon replied.

“If my Lord wishes so then I will” Barbatos commented.

“Go ahead” Diavolo responded, eager to hear what his butler was talking about.

“I believe the Mc we are currently interacting with is not our own”

“What do ya mean by that?” Mammon asked, shooting out of his chair.

“I mean that this Mc is from a different timeline, and ours is in another one. In simple terms our Mc switched with the one we are currently interacting with, due to a certain curse”

“A curse?” Satan asked.

“Yes a curse, however I am still unsure of the true nature of this curse so I cannot estimate when our Mc will return”

“If that’s the case then what’s the difference between the two Mc’s?” Levi asked, now confused.

“Well it appears that this Mc still hasn’t forgiven you for killing them?” Solomon added.

“If they have experienced the same things our Mc has then that brings a question to wonder. Just how many timelines are there where Mc has been killed?” Simeon questioned looking toward the youngest demon brother.

Belphie hid in his pillow as his twin came up beside him for comfort. “Stop picking on Belphie, he already feels bad about the whole situation” Beel added.

“Well that’s to be expected, however Mc is mad at all of you not just Belphegor. So has it ever occurred to you to apologize to them for everything they went through? After all, I believe there were numerous accounts in the beginning of the year where each of you tried to separately endanger their life” the angel added, with the slightest bit of venom to his tone.

Each brother stared at the next waiting for one to speak up for them, however none did. Not even Lucifer.

Maybe Simeon was right, had they really never apologized to their Mc about the whole situation.

Well it was too late for that now, because no one knew when they were going to see their beloved Mc again.

Next part

#obey me shall we date #obey me #omswd #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me angst #obey me mc #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me x reader

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