#‘I don’t wish death on em I just reflect on em’

[enidtendo64]

Hey abt the person who has been tracing ur art. Yeah they’ve been doing that for a WHILE.

They traced ur “fankids meets wenclair in the past” and someone replied right away calling them out. I liked the reply (this is the only thing I did) and they BLOCKED ME. FOR LIKING THE REPLY I HADNT EVEN SAID ANYTHING 💀 They eventually deleted the drawing. But yeah to my knowledge they’re nothing good in the fandom. They used to draw wenclair nsfw (only stopped when they got called out) and still follow ppl who draw wenclair nsfw

Kinda bothers me since they’re such a big artist on twt :/

So I don’t wanna say anymore about the situation but the tldr of it is:

I was made aware of that specific situation a while back and actually talked to them, and they said they wouldn’t be doing it anymore so I thought it was a done deal.

So this is a bit of a 😬 annoying situation.

I’m all for giving folks second chances, especially someone so young, so I don’t want like a full blown witchunt or anything, but I hope at the very least blocking them will give them the message that that wasn’t okay.

Till then, wishing them some wisdom to come their way!

[hihopelessromantics]

Through the Wall Chapter 2.5

A nanatsu no taizai fanfiction

hehehe I forgot to post this here. I hope whoever was reading this back in March sees this and knows that oops I am totally invested in writing things for this fandom now.

This one gets dark. Trigger warning for child/ infant abuse (ft the Demon King) and suicidal ideation (poor Meliodas, there's no way that specific issue didn't come up sometime before the curse)

Without further ado, here's this au's take on Meliodas meeting his brother for the first time.

~~

150 years ago. 

“So, the Demon King will have a second son?”

“If he’s strong enough, yes.” 

“Don’t come out until I call for you. Or until your sense your father’s return.”

With his breathy whisper fading into the air, Chandler stepped back, and clicked the door shut. His young pupil slumped over the moment he was out of sight, relinquishing a facade of stoic, unwavering strength. The boy wept, grateful for his first moment of true solitude in what felt like his whole life, and the chance to maybe do something about this worthless state of existence. He scrambled further back into the dark crawlspace of the, literally, godforsaken tower in what was comically his least favorite patch of rocky cliffs in the entire Demon Realm, which Chandler promptly told him five minutes ago was Meliodas’s own birthplace. How fitting. 

Retrieving a small knife from his boot and trying to shake the numbness of his mind, Meliodas kept crawling until he felt the floor drop out from under him. He launched themself down there, landing softly on all fours. The stench of flesh blood told him this was the place Chandler indicated - and the more unsettling stench of old blood, which he hadn’t mentioned, sparked a hint of an emotion Meliodas thought was dead. Curiosity. Cursing in his mind, he breathed in more deeply and actually took in his surroundings, but couldn’t find either any hint as to what could have happened here or an actual reason to investigate. Just old stonework and scattered cloth blankets. It’s not like he had any energy left to care. He had just enough to thank that old tutor of his for those cryptic, vague suggestions that meant Chandler probably wouldn’t be surprised if this little adventure ended up killing Meliodas if he did something wrong. Typical Chandler, he thought. But for once it suited him. Meliodas was tired of being a puppet with no chance to grow a connection to anyone or anything besides killing. He doubted his father’s other pawns minded much when he wasn’t around, and frankly couldn’t care less if the Demon Realm’s government couldn’t pull it together without him. If they had to work themselves to exhaustion, well, serves them right for putting it all on the shoulders of one child who wasn’t even allowed to feel. Oh yeah, and for calling him weak when he told them sometimes he wished he could join the ranks of the dead already. Fuck em. Still, he didn’t want his death propaganda-ized to the Celestial Realm and back, so he’d put the thought off. 

This was good. 

He breathed deeply, the scent of nearby blood as familiar to him as his own reflection. Damnnit, he wasn’t sure just how long he’d have to be alone down here, had no reason to believe it would be more than fifteen minutes, even, but he still wasn’t eager to stick a knife into his neck. I hate my life, Meliodas thought, and sank onto his back. I don’t even want to sleep. 

A garbled sound answered him. Meliodas hit his head on the top of the crawlspace with how quickly he sat up. The blankets were making sounds. He berated himself as he crawled toward the sounds: stupid, stupid, please, please you CAN’T . . . honestly. . . if it just one little sound gets your hearts racing like this, you won’t die OR be able to survive. 

He couldn’t have foreseen what he would encounter there in that crawlspace. The gurgling sounds, and the fresh blood, belonged to a baby who was staring up at the ceiling with a reasonable amount of annoyance. The expression on its little face changed drastically as it took in Meliodas’s stunned face. He didn’t know what to say to the poor thing except, “Must have been scary here all alone here, huh? You okay? You scared?” 

It gaggled as a response and smiled an ecstatic, toothless grin. Without any more hesitation, Meliodas tore off his shirt and jacket, using the former to clean off the baby as best he could before holding the little one snugly against him. He didn’t understand how the infant hadn’t died of insanity or whatnot after being down here god knows how long. Well, as long as he was here, at least one of them would be happy - he could ensure that much, considering all the stolen moments he had spent in the capital’s nursery. 

He didn’t know how long he was down there.

“You’re a sweet little one, aren’t you?” He teased, as the baby happily chomped on one of his fingers. Judging by its body temperature and willingness to play and interact with him, it seemed to be in decent health. 

“Ah. We should burn this, huh?” Meliodas looked to his now blood-crusted shirt. “Hey. . . wanna see something cool? Hellblaze.” The prince summoned the faintest hint of the fire inherent to his kind, gently and gradually increasing it as his new friend stared and cooed with the utmost excitement at the dark purple flame. The delight in those sparkling green eyes was divine. Meliodas was sorely tempted to teach the little one how to make his own flame, but it was so clearly and stunningly younger than the children he was used to. He couldn’t remember anything the castle staff or nurses said about that which they called infants, the youngest demons. But he remembered the sting of hellfire well enough to withdraw the idea almost immediately. 

“Ah - no, don’t eat it! Ssh, no, I’m not upset, I’m sorry I raised my voice, I’m sorry. It’s just, magic isn’t the safest thing, okay? You’ll learn when you get your own. It should be… ah… I don’t know, a couple of years? Decades? I only know I’m an exception, being a god’s son and all. So I’m not sure.” 

The baby settled back down into Mel’s arms like it belonged there, grabbing firmly for his hands again. “Let me protect you, okay?” He murmured, pressing their foreheads together. The baby gave a deep, rumbling purr. Reassured, Meliodas mimicked the sound as best he could, having, usually, no reason to make such a sound. 

“I wonder why you appeared in such a place. You have any idea? Nah, of course not. Not like it matters right? Mooooore importantly, do you know what I’m saying?” 

The baby only smiled. 

Playing, occasionally whispering stories to amuse himself with the little one’s reactions. Told him how lonely he was. He forgot it probably couldn’t understand language yet. The part of his mind he was willing to spare toward THINKING with any level of strenuousness occupied itself with the aches and pains and restlessness that made themselves known now that he was truly relaxed.

Eventually, Meliodas gave into the urge and summoned his darkness. It radiated off his body from under his skin, burning away any chill and curling around his limbs in a comforting manner. For some reason, in this moment, it felt more like a living being, like a friend, than ever before, and he felt so earnestly compelled to acknowledge it as such - despite being ordered not to by his father - that he did so. It was a shock to feel some sort of sensory pleasure spike through his body as soon as he had the thought, and he felt his darkness spread through his body on a deep exhale, melting into his cells instead of returning back to the box he’d been accustomed to forcing it into. This didn’t feel unsafe. It felt safer, like a defense mechanism or a bone returning to its proper place. Keeping his magic strangled like that did more than tire him out, he realized. 

He allowed himself a couple of minutes to stretch and adjust before settling back down to check on the little one. It was less content in the pile of blankets than in his arms, so he scooped it up again and tried lacing their fingers together. Still too small. Giddy at a sudden idea, he extended a tendril of darkness forward and curled it around his little friend’s tiny wrist. It shouted in delight, then went about touching and manipulating  Mel’s darkness however it could. Meliodas couldn’t stop smiling at how fascinated the baby was - and how gentle, too. As if the darkness was just another part of Mel’s body and it understood it could hurt him somehow. Not likely, but Mel had gone from being fascinated with what could be going on in the young demon’s mind, to being (oddly) certain of its feelings and intentions. Like it wasn’t difficult anymore. A couple of times it poked Mel’s hand or chest or cheek, even attempting to hold his wrist the way Meliodas always did to check his pulse. 

“I have seven hearts,” the demon prince informed an infant with no knowledge of what a heart was. “I think you have seven too. Oh, don’t be disappointed. You’re plenty special. Hm, see - your eyes are so much more lively and beautiful than mine, even though they’re the same green. ‘No two beings are entirely the same.’ Nurse Grequiene explained it to me once.” 

He went through about 90 or so names before finding one that felt right. He apologized for not knowing any proper infant names as, according to one of his nannies, it was traditional and had been a big deal when the crown prince himself wasn’t given one to begin with.  Meliodas relayed as much of that conversation as he could remember: ‘There wouldn’t have been any of this fuss had you been given the chance to pick one out like all the other kids,’ he’d said, dabbing away at a stain on his bedroom floor. ‘We haven’t respected your father much since, as you know. The castle staff is nonexistent to him. As long as we stay out of the upper floors of the castle we’re never fired, just shuffled around or - well I shou- I won’t burden you with the details now, just know that what you say to us we will keep in confidence. That controlling bastard can only go so far. Remember that. Might have had to go drastic with that nasty rumor to get your sire to let you pick your name like all the other demon kids, but we did it, didn’t we?’

“Naturally, I pestered them for ages about what the rumor was. And it was more wild than I could have hoped for. Turns out! There were demons who dedicated that the goddess queen must have helped to create me after my father refused to let me be community-raised or to pick my own name after I was old enough to understand what that involved. They said I must not be a full demon, because if I was, why would he need to exert so much control over me and discard generations of tradition? Yeah. My father wasn’t pleased with that rumor. He couldn’t find the source, though. By the time he noticed it was just “everywhere,” supposedly, and he opted to pretend the whole situation never happened.” 

The baby listened with interest. The fingers playing with Mel’s golden locks yanked, and he leaned down to accommodate the little one’s stimming. 

“You know what else is interesting?” Inquisitive green eyes stared back at his, and despite its young age the babe looked very much as if eager to share in some conspiracy Mel was about to engage in. Even though it was just words, it could not be more delighted with them, and that was a power Meliodas reveled in. 

“I like you. I like you a lot. Even though I barely know you - I feel like I’m learning, don’t get me wrong. But it’s not like I just trust - or like - people on sight. This is . . . a new thing for me. Oh, and, thank you. I’m a little sleepy right now and can’t recall why, but I feel like I should be thanking you.” 

Let’s go to sleep now, okay? Sweet dreams! 

He didn’t know how many times he’d said that -

Before the thump of a hurried landing reverberated throughout the crawlspace. 

Hm?

Ah. That voice sounded familiar but he didn’t want to hear it. Babe in his arms, he retreated backward, sensing the presence was right about him. Sensing him.

“Hm? No, you’re safe! Come out, come here to me, I -”

“No. Go. Go away.”

“What? No - curses - Young Master!”

Meliodas hissed threateningly and stabbed at the hand reaching out for him with his darkness.

“He’s gone delusional . . . here, here -” 

Suddenly there was air moving freely around him and then he was landing, hard, on the wooden floor of the tower - not occurring to him that there was a trapdoor, he stared dumbfounded up at the familiar face that was rather completely ruining his nice evening.

“Ah - Young Master, put that back.”

“Wha…?”

Pointing at the precious babe in his arms. 

“Put that back, we need to go.”

“No, no, I’m not going anywhere. And there’s no way I’m leaving “that” here!”

Chandler looked at him as if he hadn’t heard or understood. “Young Master, you have to come with me. We must leave shortly.”

“No.”

“You have to. Now,” he repeated, looking downright frightened, but Meliodas only looked down at the precious bundle in his arms and shook his head wildly. The older man’s darkness locked tighter, tighter around Meliodas’s arms, the firm grip reminding Mel of his own hold on the child he’d just met, and he looked up, taking in his tutor’s face for the first time. Pleading. With all of his heart. 

“Please. I like it here.”

“Now is not the time for jokes. Darkness below, you . . .” The older man measured Meliodas’s face once more and, seeming to come to a conclusion, sighed. “Alright.”

His face split apart into a smile. “Thank you, Ch -”

And his vison went black. 

When he woke up, he woke up alone in his bedroom.

Yes, the training was a massive success, he proved quite sturdy. 

He did not move or attempt to get up. He was alone once more, that he knew, and in that moment, that was all he needed to know. 

I promised to protect . . .

I promised. I promised.

You put your hands on me. It wasn’t even training and you hurt me.

He had been out for quite some time, attended to by some very concerned staff at all times. He couldn’t find it in himself to be grateful, though he smiled and thanked them all the same when he finally regained the strength to do so. 

After all,

We have doomed a life to death.

“Meliodas?” 

The voice was tentative. Chandler - no, the old man - had done well in giving him his space, as Meliodas did not know himself if Chandler’s blood would not have stained the floor, should he have come close. 

He missed the fact he was called by name.

“Meliodas, I have some good news I know you’ll love.”

No, I’ll never love anything, ever again. 

And I’ll soon be dead. I refuse to live.

“Come to the throne room. Your father has promised a lovely surprise. Yes, I know it makes you anxious, but you have to go now. And I’m sure you’ll love it.”

He didn’t answer. Just silently dressed himself and walked out, the perfect picture of the poised, proper prince, all the way to the throne room. This would be the first of his father’s surprises to truly surprise him. Which is exactly how his father expected it. Everything would be how his father expected it. 

Again.

“You have a brother,” announced the Demon King. 

That jolted Meliodas right out of his thoughts fast enough that he almost made a facial expression. The Demon King laughed heartily. 

“He has passed the test, as you have, and I am proud to welcome him into the royal family. He has no name and nothing to call his own yet. You shall look after him from this point forward.” 

“I will do as you will. The task - it pleases me.” The response was somehow spoken in a steady tone despite the whirlwind of emotions making him want to sink to his knees and melt into a puddle of blessedly free liquid. “I’ve never had a brother before,” he tacked on, not really knowing how his father knew his brother was a brother and oh yeah, he didn’t care much for being considerate, did he? Oh fucking well. 

“I imagine so!” laughed his father. “Come here, child.”

Meliodas did so, and his father with his great statue plucked up a small bundle of cloths from the ground and placed it with insufficient caution in his sons (not waiting) arms. To his own horror, Meliodas caught the babe swiftly and in but a moment had it secure . . . cradling gently . . . just as he had with his little friend who at this very moment was surely dead and quite heartbroken. Hearts protesting this state of existence, and probably the fact he had forgotten air as a necessity, he sucked in air and practically choked on it.

His father laughed, genuinely amused at his carefully crafted son’s loss of composure. “What is the matter, son? Is he not to your liking? Ah! You haven’t even seen him yet. Yes, yes, let me take - that - off and let you see.” 

He peeled the blankets away and revealed a very annoyed-looking infant with striking green eyes. “The audacity . . .” Those eyes seemed to say. “What the fuck are you trying to do, kill me?” 

Meliodas took another deep breath.

“Fantastic, isn’t it?”

He said nothing, very much preferring to say nothing to that man and not caring if he couldn’t get away with it this time. The babe - his brother, though he should laugh at the thought. How could THAT possibly be? - had reached up to pull a strand of golden hair into his mouth. 

“His name is Zeldoris.” 

Those were the first words he had willingly spoken since regaining consciousness. 

And it was the first time he dared to smile in front of his father. It was an angry kind of smile. Something the Demon King deserved well and good. It spoke every bit of both Meliodas’s and Zeldris’s wrath toward being put in their situation. And it was gone as quickly as it came.

“Very good,” replied his father, who for god knows what reason seemed pleased his firstborn child was furious, and was definitely - as Mel decided later - oblivious to the real cause. “The servants will show you the appropriate room to put him in.”

~~

“Why is Meliodas refusing to speak to you?”

“I do not know, Master, but I imagine he is irritated as of late. His temper is quite something, and he sure knows how to direct his frustration.”

“Well, that is no worry at all. It’s not as if Zeldoris is getting older any faster, ha. Still. I didn’t assign him to you for you to be meek and docile and his personal punching bag. You better keep him in line, you hear? Don’t let me catch you making a fool out of that boy.”

“Yes, I know, Master. And your boy is no fool. I’m quite proud of him, actually.  He takes no insult sitting down. The soldiers shall fear his wrath and crave his - and yours by natural extension - approval.”

“Good. That is how it should be. And, if he does continue to treat you with such disrespect - or refuse to talk to you for any extended period of time -  tell me at once.”

“As you will, Master.”

~~

Meliodas’s resolve to never speak warmly to Chandler held firm. And Chandler did not say a word about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Special thanks to @7-ratsinatrenchcoat for helping me figure out how I want to approach writing the wacky old man that is canon Chandler and special thanks to @zorria for previewing this for me to make sure it makes sense and is fit for Reader Consumption.

Let me know if you want me to clarify any of the plot for this one!

[natcat5]

It’s 1979 and Disco’s never going to die.

An Exandria Unlimited Calamity playlist in preparation for Episode 4. Song order roughly reflects chronology of the show. 

Track list and explanations below the cut, for those who care about such things.

Episode 1 

Dark Doo Wop - Ms MR “The earth breaks, it falls and set your beat I find myself swallowed, drowning in your heat”

Zerxus’s Dream

24K Magic - R3hab Remix - Bruno Mars, R3HAB “Pop pop, it's show time Guess who's back again? Oh they don't know? (Go on tell 'em) I bet they know soon as we walk in”

The Ring of Brass in the glamour and glory of Avalir, City of Crowns, in the Age of Arcanum 

Primadonna - MARINA ”Living life like I'm in a dream I know I've got a big ego I really don't know why it's such a big deal, though”

The Ring of Brass in the glamour and glory of Avalir, City of Crowns, in the Age of Arcanum 

Ribs - Lorde “We can talk it so good We can make it so divine”

The Ring of Brass at the party, their friendship, and individual minor troubles 

King - Florence + the Machine “I need my golden crown of sorrow My bloody sword to swing My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology”

Laerryn (and Patia a little bit)

Episode 2

Passerine - The Oh Hellos “My palms and fingers still reek of gasoline From throwing fuel to the fire of that Greco-Roman dream”

First hints of the coming Fall of the Age, and the possibility that the Ring of Brass might have something to do with it 

Dance on Our Graves - Paper Route  “I know the man I am is not who I should be The devil takes my hand, says child come with me”

Zerxus in the Hall of Prophecies

Cassandra - Acoustic - Florence + the Machine “Everything I thought I knew is falling out of view And if I run fast enough, could I break apart As empires tumble and cathedrals flatten in my heart?“

Nydas after hearing the prophecy

There’s A Storm Coming - Fahrenhaidt, Alice Merton “Oh there's a storm coming Oh hear the roar It's coming down”

Realization that there’s a genuine plot afoot in the city. Like, a bad one. 

Episode 3

Battle Cry - Angel Haze, Sia “Money cannot buy All the love that's here tonight It's just you and I” 

Ring of Brass against Dean Hollow and the Fiends. Specifically, how well RoB works as a team and how much they care about each other

Mourning Doves - Mikky Ekko “Look at how far we've come Look at this mess we've made”

Realization that they can’t land the city, and the way it impacts the team.

Dying in LA - Panic! At the Disco “Every face along the boulevard is a dreamer just like you You looked at death in a tarot card and you saw what you had to do”

I don’t know how to explain my rationale for this one. Something something the promise of Avalir as being a place where knowledge power and prestige are pursued at all cost. Something something Laerryn’s complete inability to give up on her Astral Leywright.

Ungodly Hour - The Fray “Her bag is now much heavier I wish that I could carry her But this is our ungodly hour”

The caelix. Could apply to all the characters kind of dealing with the worst situation they’ve ever been in, but could also be specifically Laerryn having to choose between her life’s work, Evandrin’s spirit, Quay and Patia and the damn tree. 

Girls Against God - Florence + the Machine “Oh God, you're gonna get it You'll be sorry that you messed with us”

Laerryn vs. Tree

Seven Devils - Florence + the Machine “Holy water cannot help you now Thousand armies couldn't keep me out”

Arrival of the Lord of Hells 

All the songs from here on out are speculation on how Episode 4 might go, so I won’t bother with explanations until after I’ve watched the episode and either affirmed or changed up my song list. 

[passionesolja]

I likely have half of Star Wars tumblr blocking me rn bc I was a jojo fandom transplant into the Star Wars fandom and I didn’t realize how serious shit was.

As a jojo fan, I’m used to mfs being like “I wish yoshikage Kira would suck my fingers🫣🥴” and nobody cares. Like I think a good percentage of the jojo villains is fine asl. But I still am rooting for the Joestar family.

Yeah it’s not paradise like people take shipping way too serious in the fandom and on Twitter there’s a lot of hyper sensitive mfs but all that can be avoided. Hell I avoid most of it bc I don’t ship anybody in jojo and I avoid mfs who take it too serious.

But like goddamn is the Star Wars fandom dysfunctional and ultra sensitive. Like I can have a name like “passionesolja” and nobody in the jojo fandom cares or comes at me like “you’re pro mafia and a bad person” but if I came out here with a name like “SWEmpireSolja” mfs would treat me like I’m a fascist or something. Granted some mfs already think I’m a fascist bc Idgaf about the empire and don’t have any real emotional dislike of em. They ain’t ever kill any of my faves and even if they did I would still acknowledge they swag

It’s extremely jarring and I know I made a lot of mfs not fw me because I approach Star Wars with the same “lol hahaha I don’t take this that serious” attitude that I have about jojo. Because in jojo, mfs do not care and they don’t act like shit is a reflection of your personhood. We all here for the high fashion models using the fighting ghost thatre named after classic rock songs

Dawg, like in the jojo fandom, I can be like “nooo Abbachio my fave Passione member😞I can’t believe Diavolo did him like that” (which is true like his death was brutal like they do him like that he so much life ahead of him) but in the same breath be like “why tf giorno giovanna do that to Diavolo that’s a lil much😭” and everybody understands that ands cool with that.

Dawg I did not know that the Star Wars fandom had this serious of politics like I didn’t understand that you couldn’t be like “yeah sheev is handsome and the empire do got drip tho” and also like “rip sheev bozo mf we smoking on the Death Star pack” like I didn’t know that mfs took this shit that serious.

It fr like a political war in the Star Wars fandom and my jojo fan ass was just having fun being a jojo fan in the Star Wars fandom

[donttalkaboutmemes]

Mulan (1998) Lyric Meme

Under the cut you will find 80+ lyrics from the 1998 version of Mulan to use for your enjoyment!      

Honor To Us All 1.      “This is what you give me to work with? Well, honey, I’ve seen worse.”

2.      “We are gonna turn this sow’s ear into a silk purse.”

3.      “We’ll have you washed and dried, primped and polished til you glow with pride.”

4.      “Trust my recipe for instant bride.”

5.      “You’ll bring honor to us all.”

6.      “Wait and see, when we’re through boys will gladly go to war for you.”

7.      “A girl can bring her family great honor in one way.”

8.      “Men want girls with good taste.”

9.      “We all must serve our emperor who guards us from the Huns. A man by bearing arms, a girl by bearing sons.”

10.   “When we’re through, you can’t fail.”

11.   “How could any fellow say no sale?”

12.   “Now add a cricket just for luck and even you can’t blow it.”

13.   “Ancestors, hear my plea. Help me not to make a fool of me.”

14.   “Keep my father standing tall.”

15.   “Scarier than the undertaker we are meeting our matchmaker.”

16.   “Please look kindly on these cultured pearls.”

17.   “Please bring honor to us all.”

 Reflection

18.   “Look at me, I will never past for a perfect bride or a perfect daughter.”

19.   “Can it be I’m not meant to play this part?”

20.   “Now I see that if I were truly to be myself, I would break my family’s heart.”

21.   “Who is that girl I see staring straight back at me?”

22.   “Why is my reflection someone I don’t know.”

23.   “Somehow I cannot hide who I am, though I’ve tried.”

24.   “When will my reflection show who I am inside?”

 Make A Man Out Of You

25.   “Lets get down to business to defeat the Huns.”

26.   “Did they send me daughters when I asked for sons?”

27.   “You’re the saddest bunch I ever met, but you can bet before we’re through, Mister I’ll make a man out of you.”

28.   “Once you find your center, you are sure to win.”

29.   “You’re a spineless, pale, pathetic lot and you haven’t got a clue.”

30.   “Somehow I’ll make a man out of you.”

31.   “I’m never gonna catch my breath.”

32.   “Say goodbye to those who knew me.”

33.   “Boy was I a fool in school for cutting gym.”

34.   “This guy’s got ‘em scared to death.”

35.   “Hope he doesn’t see right through me.”

36.   “Now I really wish that I knew how to swim.”

37.   “We must be swift as a coursing river, with all the force of a great typhoon.”

38.   “Heed my every order and you might survive.”

39.   “You’re unsuited for the rage of war. So pack up, go home. You’re through.”

40.   “How could I make a man out of you?”

 A Girl Worth Fighting For

41.   “For a long time we’ve been marching into battle.”

42.   “In our thundering herd, we feel a lot like cattle.”

43.   “Like the pounding beat, our aching feet aren’t easy to ignore.”

44.   “Think of instead a girl worth fighting for.”

45.   “I want her paler than the moon with eyes that shine like stars.”

46.   “My girl will marvel at my strength, adore my battle scars.”

47.   “I couldn’t care less what she’ll wear or what she looks like. It all depends on what she cooks like beef, pork, chicken.”

48.   “Bet the local girls thought you were quite the charmer.”

49.   “I’ll bet the ladies love a man in armor.”

50.   “You can guess what we have missed the most since we went off to war.”

51.   “My girl will think I have no faults.”

52.   “How ‘bout a girl who’s got a brain who always speaks her mind?”

53.   “My manly ways and turn of phrase are sure to thrill her.”

54.   “He thinks he’s such a lady-killer.”

55.   “I’ve a girl back home who’s unlike any other.”

56.   “The only girl who’d love him is his mother.”

57.   “When we come home in victory, they’ll line up at the door.”

 True To Your Heart

58.   “I knew at once that you were meant for me.”

59.   “Deep in my soul I know that I’m your destiny.”

60.   “Don’t think so much. Let your heart decide.”

61.   “I see your future and it’s tied to mine.”

62.   “I look in your eyes and see you searching for a sign.”

63.   “You’ll never fall til you let go.”

64.   “Don’t be so scared of what you don’t know.”

65.   “You must be true to your heart.”

66.   “That’s when the heavens will part and shower you with my love.”

67.   “Open your eyes. Your heart can tell you no lies.”

68.   “When you’re true to your heart, I know it’s gonna lead you straight to me.”

69.   “Someone you know is on your side can set you free.”

70.   “I can do that for you if you believe in me.”

71.   “Why second guess what feels so right?”

72.   “Just trust your heart and you’ll see the light!”

73.   “Your heart knows what’s good for you.”

74.   “Let your heart show you the way.”

75.   “My heart is driving me to where you are.”

76.   “You won’t get lost with your heart to guide you.”

77.   “When things are getting crazy and you don’t know where to start, keep on believing.”

  Reflection (single)

78.   “You may think you see who I really am, but you’ll never know me.”

79.   “Every day it’s as if I play a part.”

80.   “If I wear a mask, I can fool the world, but I cannot fool my heart.”

81.   “I am now in a world where I have to hide my heart and what I believe in.”

82.   “Somehow I will show the world what’s inside my heart and be loved for who I am.”

83.   “Must I pretend that I’m someone else for all time.”

84.   “There’s a heart that must be free to fly that burns with a need to know the reason why.”

85.   “Why must we all conceal what we think, how we feel?”

86.   “Must there be a secret me that I’m forced to hide?”

87.   “I won’t pretend that I’m someone else for all time.”

[gbabyjenn]

They swearing on the Bible that they love you but they’re no different from all your rivals , I still don’t wish death on em . I just reflect on em .

[gem-morey]

SwynWriMo Day Eleven – Lo-Fi Beats to Be a Magick To

Not All Magic is Fairytales -- a playlist for dangerous magicks

Create a playlist for a type of Magick in the Swynverse.

Tracklist:

Heavy Games -- Portugal. The Man

Bottom of the River -- Delta Rae

Icarus -- Bastille

Tiptoe -- Imagine Dragons

Leave My Body -- Florence + the Machine

Some Nights -- fun.

Modern Jesus -- Portugal. The Man

Guilty Filthy Soul -- AWOLNATION

Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea -- Fall Out Boy

Jackboot Jump -- Hozier

I Wanna Get Better -- Bleachers

It’s Alright -- Mother Mother

listen to the playlist here.

cw below cut for – talk of drowning, oppression, death, fire

Heavy Games -- Portugal. The Man

A mother leaves behind a son who forgets her with a sunrise Brothers fighting not for love, or family but to survive When we can't help what we become, we become the only one But when we go we leave no one What will, I become What have, I become

I tried to choose songs that work for any dangerous magic. I think the refrain of this song “what will I become / what have I become” is the eternal question when you deal with a magic that is uncontrollable.

Bottom of the River -- Delta Rae

The wolves will chase you by the pale moonlight (Drunk and driven by a devil's hunger) Drive your son like a railroad spike (Into the water, let it pull him under) Don't you lift him, let him drown alive (The good Lord speaks like a rolling thunder) Let that fever make the water rise (And let the river run dry)

This is the first song I put on Lou’s playlist fun fact. It always gave me this feeling of--the singer is like trying to tell someone just to give up. You can kind of feel the weight of the burden in this song. It feels tempting to go to the river, to drown your troubles away...

Icarus -- Bastille

Look who's digging their own grave That is what they all say You'll drink yourself to death Look who makes their own bed Lies right down within it And what will you have left?

This song is very much giving like -- other people’s opinions. The first three songs on this playlist very much are how other people see those who struggle with their magic. (Or how people who struggle with their magic think others see them.) It is a reflection -- someone looking at you. Dangerous Magicks are constantly scrutinized, this is that song.

Tiptoe -- Imagine Dragons

In the morning light let my roots take flight Watch me fall above like a vicious dove They don't see me come, who can blame them? They never seem to catch my eye but I've never wondered why Hey yeah, don't let 'em know we're coming Hey yeah, tiptoe higher Take some time to simmer down, keep your head down low Hey yeah, tiptoe higher

This is my favorite Imagine Dragons song, fun fact. It is the song on the playlist that signals the first shift. It is more from the perspective of a Magick who has to keep their head down. The frustration that comes with keeping yourself small.

Leave My Body -- Florence + the Machine

I'm gonna be released from behind these lines And I don't care whether I live or die And I'm losing blood, I'm gonna leave my bones And I don't want your heart it leaves me cold I don't want your future I don't need your past One bright moment Is all I ask

This is kind of the “I didn’t ask for this song.” When it all gets to be too much, the judgement and the fear of yourself--you want to remove yourself from you body, you wish to exist somewhere else, somehow.

Some Nights -- fun.

This is it, boys, this is war - what are we waiting for? Why don't we break the rules already? I was never one to believe the hype Save that for the black and white I try twice as hard and I'm half as liked But here they come again to jack my style

An underrated (or forgotten bop) -- this is the second tone shift that makes up the latter half (almost) of the playlist. This song is much more confrontational. It’s directly talking about how they want to break the rules, that it is exhausting playing by society. “I try twice as hard and I’m half as liked.” Yeah. 

Modern Jesus -- Portugal. The Man

Come on in Take a seat next to me You know we got We got what you need We may be liars preaching to choirs But we can We can sell your dreams Don't pray for us We don't need no modern Jesus To roll with us The only rule we need is never Giving up The only faith we have is faith in us

This is one of my favorite songs, just in general. I don’t know why aha. It just is such a groove. And it’s another kind of rebellious song. It very much gives like “oh you’re dangerous too? you can join us over here on the dark side” energy, which I think--dangerous Magicks kind of start their own little communities and comradery, a la the Hauntley Inn or wolf packs.

Guilty Filthy Soul -- AWOLNATION

Cause you gotta look her in the eye And you gotta love your way of life Cause you gotta guilty, filthy soul Don't ya know it's out of your control Waiting on a blood line You can find some free time Look at who you're hating Now you're celebrating

This is another song that kind of expresses the jaded bitterness of dangerous Magicks. Because, of course, not all “dangerous” Magicks are bad, but even when they do good things sometimes, it isn’t viewed the same way as less dangerous Magicks.

Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea -- Fall Out Boy

I think I got too many memories getting in the way of me I'm about to go Tonya Harding on the whole world's knee And I'm stuck night vision so stuck night vision But I come to life, come to life Some princes don't become kings Even at the best of times I'm out of my mind You only get what you grieve Are you smelling that shit? Eau de résistance

Another rebel song. This song turns up the volume a little bit. I love this song lol. Also, the ref to Tonya Harding is so great bc she is like a very mal-aligned person in history--which has kind of been a running theme of the playlist.

Jackboot Jump -- Hozier

All around the world You'd think that things were looking rough But the jackboot only jumps down On people standing up So you know good things are happening When the jackboot needs to jump 

I love this song so much. Hozier writes the best songs for like current politics and rebellion and all that good stuff. This is really the epitome of the last five or so songs. It is kind of a rallying cry.

I Wanna Get Better -- Bleachers

'Cause I'm sleeping in the back of a taxi I'm screaming from my bedroom window Even if its gonna kill me Woke up this morning early before my family From this dream where she was trying to show me How a life can move from the darkness She said to get better

The final tonal shift for the last two songs! Hopeful, moving forward songs. Many dangerous Magicks let that label define them and find themselves trapped inside of it. Often times until they meet people who are willing to brave the flames or tame the beast within.

It’s Alright -- Mother Mother It's alright, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay You're not a monster, just a human And you made a few mistakes It's alright, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay You're not gruesome, just human And you made a few mistakes

This song is so soff to me. It’s very self-empowering. Self-soothing? Yeah. I see it as someone telling themselves this. That they aren’t bad, their mistakes can be overcome, and they are human (usually, lol) just like everyone else. <3

[accident-prone-agustin]

Task #6 — Soundtrack to Your Life: Create a playlist that reflects a significant story moment for your character

I said I had 3 ideas for this task so I’m doing all three. Can’t resist dropping new character lore, so! Here’s the second!

This one is a playlist for Agustin deconstructing his faith and coming up an atheist -- this is a secret he holds close to his chest, he knows this would rock the boat in his family. Keeping the peace and going to church like a good Christian to keep his family happy is more important to him. More than that, Catholicism is heavily tied to Avaloran cultural identity. If he were to openly reject that, that would mean losing a big part of his community and a lot of his status in the local Avaloran refugee community and that’s something he’s not willing to do.

I’ve already done a ton of commentary on Franny’s task so on this one I’ll probably just highlight fitting lyrics

CW: Discussion of religion

playlist

1. Everybody Knows by Leonard Cohen

Everybody knows that the dice are loaded Everybody rolls with their fingers crossed Everybody knows the war is over Everybody knows the good guys lost Everybody knows the fight was fixed The poor stay poor, the rich get rich That's how it goes Everybody knows

2. Losing My Religion by R.E.M.

Every whisper, of every waking hour I'm choosing my confessions Trying to keep an eye on you Like a hurt, lost and blinded fool, fool Oh no I've said too much

3. Believe Me by James And The Shame*

I think you want an answer I'm not prepared to give 'Cause the one I gave you said that, that ain't it

Must be something that I want Fame and fortune or at least a little jaunt It may seem too cut and dry But I just found some things I could not brush aside Now if you'll oblige I don't think it's true I'm not asking you to agree I'm just asking you to believe me You say my heart was never true That might say more 'bout you

*If any of y’all like the comedy duo Rhett and Link? This is Rhett’s solo country album! It’s all about his deconstruction of his Christian faith and it’s AWESOME

4. The New World Order by Defiance, Ohio

This is also a Bush Era protest song so it has Bush Era political references

They say the new world order is just God's master plan But if the blueprint calls for some to stave don't blame God's right hand man

...

God is great God is good and let us thank God for our food We may well have more than we need and God may well have more mouths to feed

But God is great God is good and someday soon he'll feed you too cause once we have our yachts and crowns God planned some food to trickle down

So just keep those thoughts holy and be patient and be pious And hallelujah you gotta encourage those prayers hosanna in the highest

5. God Must Hate Me by Catie Turner

I'll let 'em take accountability For everything that's wrong with me Can't hold myself responsible So I blame the metaphysical If Jesus died for all our sins He left one behind, the body I'm in Same hands that made the moon and the stars Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts

6. Give A Damn by James and The Shame

Ain't it funny how some guys who lived Well before your time Could make you think what you think God thinks about wine That kinda thing will draw you in if you are like me Why live for the here and now, when you've got eternity? They say a life unexamined is a life that's not worth living But I'm pretty sure I've grayed my beard with all these fucks I've given I can't help but give a damn but damn, sometimes I wish I didn't First time I heard of the great beyond I was surely smitten I could be one of the chosen few, be on the front lines I've got something in my pocket that'll give sight to the blind I grew up and read some stuff outside of the good book Shaken to my very core I took another look

7. Icarus by Bastille

Look who makes their own bed, lies right down within it And what will you have left? ... Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace It scares me half to death Look out to the future, but it tells you nothing So take another breath

8. Adam Was A Man by Violent Femmes

Adam was a man Just like you or me He did not do what he's supposed to And he cries internally

There's horror in Paradise In the garden of delight Where sorrow can paralyze The will to want the right

...

Oh, God was God Not like you or me He always does and he does just because So we hope he stays so friendly

9. In Vain by James and the Shame

There's quite a few things you don't seem to mind I'm trying to figure out just where you draw the line 'Cause watching people die seems to be fine But god forbid a nipple or a Jesus Christ ... But maybe that commandment about using the Lord's name Is about a lot more than what you say

So much done in Jesus' name Seems to me to be a god damn shame Are you sure the savior came So the righteous would all vote the same Tell me who's the one using his name in vain

Nothing rallies the troops like a building campaign Or gathering to worship with a rockstar on the stage Or traveling cross the ocean with life saving supplies So brown people will know they worship the devil in disguise

...

So much done in Jesus' name Seems to me to be a god damn shame Are you sure the savior came To pledge allegiance to the USA So you could find the perfect parking space To help decide that supreme court case

10. Old Letters by James and the Shame

I still remember when we used to talk You never said much, but I knew what you thought 'Cause you wrote it down for me long ago I read your letters to keep from feeling alone There's not just one thing I could point to That began to push me away from you All I can say is that I changed It was just like you to stay the same Stay the same My favorite thing was how right you made me feel You let me sleep while you took the wheel But when I woke up, you were nowhere to be seen Can't help but think if it was all just me I dusted off some of those old notes And tried to recapture that sensation of hope Page after page, my eyes all a blur But I could not feel you in any of those words Maybe we'll meet again on different terms When those old ways have finally been unlearned I might find out that I had you wrong And you've just been waiting on me all along

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Omg can I please get a hannibal x a shy girl reader ? Like he’s really possessive of her and she doesn’t know how to handle it but she likes him so they date??

Sorry this took so long, anon. I’ve been bouncing ideas around and this one in particular, I believe, fits your request. Y/n feels out of place among Hannibal’s fancy friends and it becomes even more obvious when he abandons her at a party. 

Trigger warnings: social anxiety, sexual harassment, overstimulation

You and Hannibal had an agreement about large gatherings. He could only bring you to a party if you had a week's notice and at least three uninterrupted hours of gaming time prior to the event.

For this event, you needed a solid six.

One of the major Maryland universities was awarding a lucrative research grant to a student of clinical psychology, and every influential name in the industry was expected to be there. As a recent college grad with a bachelor's in business you didn't know what to do with, you couldn't imagine a less welcoming environment if you tried. You couldn't fit into their world and more importantly, you didn't want to. But the thought of being noticeably different in any situation was twice as terrifying. So you spent the whole week repeating your mantra; blend in, be quiet and make it through the night.

But Hannibal had different plans for you.

Halfway through the week, just when you'd pushed the party out of your mind, Hannibal presented you with a gift.

"What's the occasion?" You asked. You hoped that if you pretended not to know, it would just magically go away.

"I brought you something to wear on Friday." Hannibal answered, hanging the garment bag up on the bureau. "You know I'll take any excuse to dress you up."

He unzipped the bag and placed a black silk dress into your arms. "Try it on so I have time to get it altered if it needs it."

The material was cool to the touch and outlined your figure so perfectly, you felt even a little naked. Hannibal, of course, loved this. You were his own personal Venus de Milo. His goddess and his muse. 

“Yes, that will do nicely.” He observed, looking at you hungrily. 

“Seems a little short for a such a sophisticated event, doesn’t it?” You raised an eyebrow. The answer was yes and he knew it. He was very deliberate in everything he did. “I don’t want to come off the wrong way.” 

“And what way would that be, darling?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your figure. 

“I mean--” You searched for the right words. “It’s a gathering of the Mid-Atlantic’s most esteemed academics, I feel like, in a dress like this, I might be seen as, well, a...” 

“A prostitute?” Hannibal finished, choosing a much nicer word than you would have.

You looked down. “Yeah. It just doesn’t seem all that appropriate.” 

Hannibal approached you and lifted your chin slightly to look into his eyes. “Many Christian denominations believe that Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, yet she was Christ’s right-hand woman. She was first to see him crucified and first to witness his resurrection.” 

“Dr. Lecter,” You smirked. “I never would have taken you for a religious man.” 

“Goodness, no.” He shook his head. “But any reputable academic is expected to be familiar with biblical literature and its many contradictions and impossibilities.” 

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You are my divine feminine, Miss [L/N].” Hannibal said in a low whisper. “And I want everyone to see it. If they see a common whore, it would only be a reflection of their own jealousy.” 

Hannibal's rationalization almost made you forget about your fear of being noticed. Almost. It all came rushing back when you arrived at the event. Not one person your age was in attendance. The women wore long, flowing evening gowns that reached the floor. The length of your skirt alone guaranteed that all eyes were on you. In a simple black silk dress, you looked the very model of high society. Silk was a sign of luxury, and Hannibal wanted everyone to know that you were a woman of means. His woman, to be precise. That was why he brought you to these functions in the first place. To put you in a dress short enough for any wandering eyes so see the smattering of love bites running up your inner thighs. He wanted everyone in his field to know that you were completely and entirely his.

You realized too late that this was all his little exercise in showing you off.

Everyone seemed to know him. He only knew a handful of people by name, and you didn't know anyone.

"And who is this delightful young woman?" A woman with a light southern twang in her voice asked, looking at you as if you were a caged animal on display.

"I wasn't aware you had a daughter, Dr. Lecter." The young man beside her laughed. "Or is she your side piece?"

Your eyes scanned the room for the nearest exit. It would be unbecoming to make a scene, so you plotted a way to slip out quietly.

“Darling, meet Dr. Charlotte Ramset and her TA, David.” Hannibal introduced, notably ignoring the young man. “Dr. Ramset, this is my intended, [F/N] [L/N].”

"I didn't realize she was also a ventriloquist!" The lady, presumably Dr. Ramset, joked. You'd heard that one a million times. She looked at you. "Tell me about yourself, sweetie. What are you studying?"

The lady was old enough to be your grandmother and reeked of too much perfume.

"I graduated last year." You said, quietly. "With a BA in business."

"See, there's a good woman." David added. "Only speaks when spoken to. They don't make ’em like you anymore, baby."

Hannibal tightened his grip on your hand. "On the contrary, David. See, Miss [L/N] is quite a bit like myself. She only dignifies those she deems worthy with a response. There's nothing wrong with being selective."

The lady laughed at David's expense and smiled at you. "Good for you."

You smiled back just a little, not ready to bring your guard down yet. "I've had to deal with more than enough. It's best not to engage."

"Oh, I know, I know." The lady said, shaking her head. "That's how it is for us educated gals. Always having to put up with pigs. See, I went to college in the sixties, so I can tell you some real stories."

This was a new experience. Talking to Hannibal's friends and having them listen to you was something you never considered possible. Now, you were one of the educated gals. You were just about to strike up a conversation with this woman, when the man next to her decided someone desperately needed to play devil’s advocate.

“I find that sexist, actually.” He cut in. “Not all men are pigs.” 

The silence following his comment was deafening and you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Whatever progress Hannibal and Dr. Ramset made breaking down your defenses was completely reversed and you were ready to retreat.

Dr. Ramset took a long sip of wine and adjusted her shawl. “David, none of us said anything about men, you drew that conclusion yourself.”

“I mean, look at you.” David gestured to your dress. You knew exactly where this was going and you wished you could just disappear. “You’re basically asking for it.” 

Dr. Ramset glared at him. “David, that’s enough.” 

“I’m just stating facts.” David crossed his arms. “If you dress like a slut, what do you expect?”

Dr. Ramset and Hannibal seemed to have an entire conversation through prolonged eye contact before one of them broke the silence. 

"Charlotte, I hate to have to excuse myself so soon, but the president of the university is expecting me." Hannibal said, dropping your hand. Your heart hit the floor when you realized that he would be throwing you to the wolves.

"Of course, Dr. Lecter." She nodded. "Duty calls."

"I trust you'll keep an eye on my beloved [F/N] in my absence?" His voice hardened. The severity in his tone frightened you.

Dr. Ramset didn't seem disturbed or even surprised in the slightest by his gently threatening demand. "Of course."

"Thank you. And [F/N]?" He said, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. "I won't be going far. Please, try to have fun."

You tried not to look affronted, but you were going to have a long talk with Hannibal when you got home. 

"I'm just saying what everyone is thinking." David continued, his inability to take a hint positively astounding. "Why don't you respect yourself enough to cover up, [F/N]? You have a boyfriend!"

Your eyes scrolled across the room looking for any sign of Hannibal, but he was gone. Dr. Ramset finished her wine and stared at her TA with the resigned disgust of a death row jailer.

"Any other thoughts?" She said, snatching a fresh glass of wine. You looked at her with a clear expression of discomfort.

"Come on, do you see any other woman in the room dressed so provocatively?" David's voice broke mid-sentence. "No. Because they're educated enough to know that real men don't care about their bodies."

The hotel clerk approached the group. "Mr. Hosmer, there's a call for you."

David narrowed his eyes. "Uh, what?"

"Someone is on the phone asking for you." The clerk repeated. "Says it's an emergency."

David shrugged. "Fine."

Just when you thought you would be rid of him, at least for a moment, he planted his hands on your hips in attempt to "get by" you. His touch was like that of an insect crawling across your skin; unexpected, filthy and leaving you squeamish.

"I'm so sorry about that." Dr. Ramset's words echoed in your ears, but you didn't really hear them. You were too focused on grounding yourself to process what she was saying. 

“Dr. Ramset?” You said, quietly. “Which one is the president of the university?” 

She glanced at a tall woman in a dark blue suit, surrounded by equally important looking businesspeople. You followed her eyes. “That’s Dr. Mary Hosmer.”

Your ounce of righteous fury was squelched in two seconds when the reality of having to talk to someone, especially someone of stature, set in. You looked sheepishly back at Dr. Ramset. 

“Could you please ask her where Hannibal went?” You whispered. “I’d really like him to take me home now.” 

Her face turned sympathetic. “Of course, [F/N]. Stay right there.” 

You nodded. “Thank you.” 

Dr. Ramset crossed the floor and politely greeted the president. You took a few slow, calculated steps closer, just to get in earshot.

“Pardon me, but, have you seen Dr. Hannibal Lecter?” Dr. Ramset said, casually. 

“I wasn’t aware Hannibal had even arrived yet.” The president answered. “I haven’t seen him.” 

Your eyes widened. You fought the urge to freeze, but you had to move back before Dr. Ramset knew you’d been eavesdropping. You heard everything you needed and rushed back to where she’d left you.

“Dr. Hosmer said he stepped out.” She told you upon her return. “He should be back soon.” 

You tried not to show that you knew she was lying. “...oh.” 

“Would you like me to stay with you until he comes back?” 

You knew you were completely on your own. You didn’t know what was going on, but you had an inkling that it had to do with the president and David sharing a last name. All you knew for certain was that you couldn’t trust anybody. 

“Don’t bother.” You shook your head. You took off for the door, but Dr. Ramset grabbed your wrist. 

“I’m sorry, [F/N].” Her voice dropped to a low whisper. She didn’t look mad, but afraid. “But Dr. Lecter told me to stay with you. Please. Don’t make this harder for me.”

You recalled how seriously threatening Hannibal’s request was. She wasn’t answering to the president of the university. She was answering to Hannibal. You didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved. 

“Right.” You conceded, stepping back in. “I’m sorry.” 

The actual award ceremony was much longer than it needed to be, and it dragged on even longer knowing there was no reason for you to be there. Other than that, you awkwardly followed Dr. Ramset around the party like a lost puppy the whole time. You were back to your original plan: blend in, be quiet and make it through the night. 

Just when you thought the party would never end, someone tapped you on the arm. You turned around, hoping with every fiber of your being that it was Hannibal, but it wasn’t. A tall woman in a dark blue suit stared back at you. 

“I’m sorry to bother you, miss.” She said, apologetically. “But have you seen my son? I saw him talking to you and Dr. Charlotte earlier, perhaps he told you where he was going?” 

You’d pushed that man completely out of your mind. You shook your head. “He left to take a phone call and I haven’t seen him since.” 

A hand found your shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Dr. Hosmer, but I believe I saw the boy on his phone out in the lobby.” 

“Dr. Lecter!” The president’s eyes widened. “How nice of you to finally join us.” 

“...Yes, I believe he left right after making unwarranted comments towards my intended here.” Hannibal ran his hand down your arm lovingly. 

“Well, boys will be boys.” The president chuckled. “Maybe you should teach your girlfriend not to wear such revealing clothes.” 

Hannibal smiled and pulled you in protectively. “Whatever the case, I hope you find him very soon.” 

Her phone chimed in her back pocket. “Oh, that’s him right now.” 

“Wonderful.” Hannibal said. “[F/N] and I will be taking our leave.” 

He hurried you towards the door, his hand tight around yours. A blood-curdling scream came from behind you. You looked back for just a moment and found the president hollering in pain and falling to her knees. 

“Let’s go, darling.” Hannibal tugged at your arm. “They don’t deserve your presence.” 

“Hannibal, I swear.” You said, once you were in the safety of the car. “If you killed every man who looked at me like a piece of meat, sooner or later, there won’t be any men left.” 

Hannibal smirked and reached for his seatbelt. “Wonderful.” 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Knight in Shining Red Armor | Dante + Child!Reader (DMC 4)

A/N: Hey so this is a rewrite of one of my first (and only) DMC fic from like...2016. This takes place post-DMC 4

You can read the og one on my DeviantArt! But if you're here for the new one then I hope ya'll enjoy!

Summary: Child!Reader was taken under Dante's wing after being saved from a demon invasion, but even years later he hesitates to tell them what he truly is, fearing they'll resent him for his demonic heritage.

............

"Hey, um..Dante?"

"What's up, kiddo?" The red-clad devil hunter asked, though he wasn't completely paying attention to you. Rather he was sitting at his desk, feet kicked up as he was flipping through a magazine.

Meanwhile you were roaming around the shop, stopping only to gaze at the massive curved sword with glowing gems hanging on the wall behind him. He mentioned claiming many weapons--"Devil Arms" as they were called--from defeated demons, but you were curious about their names.

"Just wondering..what's that sword behind you called?"

"The Sparda. It sealed the barrier between the Underworld and human world. Nero went through hell and back, quite literally, to return it to me, so don't even think about touching......it?"

Dante put the magazine down as he turned to see you holding the Sparda in your small hands. You smiled triumphantly, but stumbled a bit before the blade accidentally slammed into the wooden floor, making you wince.

"Oops."

Yet your little act amused him, as he chuckled and shook his head. "You're a little too young to go devil-hunting, I'm afraid. But maybe one day you will."

"And maybe you can help pay off Dante's debt, too." Trish lightly joked as she entered the room, taking the giant sword from you and putting it back on the wall.

Her words were responded by a groan from the male, who went back to reading.

"Whatcha reading?"

Dante slowly lowered the magazine to see you sitting on his desk, but he just snapped it shut and tossed it into the trash, out of your line of sight. "Nothing that eyes like yours gotta see."

"Okay....ooooooh, what's this briefcase?" Hopping off the desk, you ran over to Pandora and crouched down to poke the skull emblem.

"Pandora. That baby can turn into six hundred and sixty six different weapons, but...right now we only have access to seven." Now he was feeling like an exhausted teacher on a museum trip, trying to explain each exhibit to his hyper first graders--the exhibits being his Devil Arms.

Yet as you ran around asking him about more of them, he couldn't help but see his childhood-self reflected in you. Just full of energy and never-ending curiosity and optimism.

Yeah..he definitely saw the resemblance.

Eventually you decided to leave him be and dash off to your room.

And only then did Dante drop his smile, sighing as he put both feet back on the ground. He ran a hand through his hair before dragging it down the side of his face tiredly.

"You know..you'll have to tell them eventually." Trish reminded.

"How, though? That kid's afraid of all demons..hybrids or not. I'm pretty sure saying "oh by the way the guy who rescued you is actually half-demon" is gonna send 'em running, and...I can't risk that." He shook his head, gazing at the jukebox in the corner.

"But I think [y/n]'s old enough to comprehend the concept of not all demons being evil," Lady chimed in after overhearing the conversation. "Just give it to them straight and I'm sure they'll understand."

As much as Dante wanted to argue, he saw that she had a valid point. But he still worried...

How would you react?

It's been a few years since he saved you from a Mega Scarecrow, though it turned out that more demons invaded your neighborhood, slaughtering everyone you knew and loved. And as he took you back to the shop to patch you up, he could see the terror in your eyes, any traces of innocence long gone.

No child should have gone through such a tragedy.

A tragedy that he was all-too familiar with.

After the defeat of the Savior, things have been looking up. You've regained your happiness as you lived in Devil May Cry and learned of Dante's tales of devil hunting, though the memories of that horrible night never truly left you alone.

Along with that, just seeing a demon is enough to make you run and hide, and you were terrified when you first met Nero and saw his demonic arm.

From that incident alone, Dante became extremely reluctant to tell you of his own demonic heritage.

He just didn't know if he's only hurting you more by keeping it hidden..

...............

Later that night, you were plagued by yet another nightmare. Different demons, same neighborhood...same deaths of your loved ones.

But in this one Dante got hurt, too. And you tried so hard to be brave for him, even shouting in the demon's face...but in the end you failed as it snatched you away, dragging you into the darkness of the Underworld before he could reach you.

Although you calmed down since awakening, you wanted to be sure he was alright.

So with what little moonlight shone in the shop's darkness, you located the worn sofa where Dante laid. He was engrossed in some TV program, though after sensing your presence his eyes flickered to you.

No words had to be exchanged in order for him to see what was wrong, as he sat up and patted the spot beside him. You smiled in relief and climbed onto the sofa, snuggling into his side as he wrapped an arm around you. "Th-Thanks, Dante."

"No prob. So uh..another nightmare, I guess?"

"Yeah, but..they hurt you, too and...I-I tried staying brave. I shouted at them to leave you alone and..they didn't listen. But...I think one of them looked scared of me."

"Wow." He raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Gotta say I'm impressed."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Y'know demons are used to seeing kids scream and cry, not take a stand against them. Plus that's pretty epic of you to defend me, so thanks." With a smile, he ruffled your hair.

"You're welcome," you giggled a bit. "But..I really just wanna be as brave as you. I mean...Nero says you laugh at giant demons and tease them all the time. How do you do that without being scared?"

"Well..it comes with the business. Getting them riled up just makes the fight more fun. At least for me. You might think I'm crazy but if ya decide to hunt demons one day...you'll see what I mean."

"But until then, could I watch you fight one? Like a big bad one?"

"......."

"Dante?"

"..kid, there's a reason I never took you on any missions." Dante sighed, swallowing back the growing lump in his throat as he carefully planned his next words. "And how I always...bounce back from getting smacked by a demon tail. No human would be able to withstand that without some broken bones."

"Oh?" You tilted your head. "Then..how can you if you're human?"

"....because I'm not fully human."

As much as he wanted to shut up, he decided to tell you the truth once and for all, not sugarcoating anything:

He explained how his parents were a demon and human--a forbidden romance which resulted in himself and Virgil being born. His bloodline allowed them to blend in with humans, exercise their demonic abilities in battle, and even tap into their true demon forms.

All the while you listened silently, with not much emotion on your face. So it was hard for him to tell what you were probably thinking in this moment.

It scared him.

"...and that's it." He sighed, closing his eyes and looking away from you. "So go ahead and hate me if you want. I won't blame you for-"

"Can you show me?"

Dante blinked stupidly as he swung his head back towards you, wondering if he heard you right.

"I...wish you told me before, but I don't wanna be scared of demons anymore." You smiled a tiny bit as you elaborated. "Especially not one who helped me. So...can I see your other form?"

"...a-alright. Just...if you get scared I can turn back instantly, so don't freak."

"I won't."

He had doubts you'll keep your word, but he got up and activated his Devil Trigger form. As he opened his eyes, you gasped upon seeing how much they were glowing--being orange rather than blue. Red electric sparks danced around his metallic body as he observed you close, anticipating your reaction. He expected you to scream or cry.

Yet..there was only curiosity and wonder in your eyes.

"Scared yet?" He asked in his distorted voice, crouching down in front of you.

Not even the way he spoke startled you, as you just shook your head. "I was wrong all along..not all demons are bad."

"Not even this one?"

"Nope. You look awesome..like a knight in shiny red armor."

"...wow..I um...." For once, the talkative devil hunter was at loss for words. But when you learned forward to hug him around the neck, he was completely shocked.

Earlier in the day he thought of countless worse-case scenarios, and yet...the best-case was happening right now.

You were accepting him, hugging him even.

He couldn't believe it.

Dante smiled as he wrapped his arms around you, making sure his armor spikes didn't hurt you. "Thanks, kid. It really means a lot that you're not terrified anymore........[y/n]?" He was concerned about your lack of response, before realizing you were dozing off.

'Damn..I might make a pretty good dad, after all..' He mused, standing up and making the trek back to your bedroom. Then he set you down and tucked you in, relief and warmth in his heart.

He had a feeling that your nightmares won't be so bad anymore. Now he felt like he could truly protect you.

Why?

Because he was gonna be your knight in shining red armor.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"Jeez, man. Quit clanking around shit and---AH!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!"

"Shhhh! Chill out, Nero. You'll wake 'em." Dante was quick to shift back to his human form once he was outside your room, glaring at his nephew. "Why are you so freaked out? This ain't the first time you've seen my devil form."

"But still..why in the middle of the night?! Thought we had company."

"...just go back to bed, kid."

"Don't call me kid!"

[paganminiskirt]

OC song challenge

Thank you to @adelaidedrubman for tagging me!

Tagging: @henbased @snake-in-the-garden @amistrio @icannotsit @aceghosts @broken-balance-baby @quentinbecks

Step 1: create your oc(s) in this picrew

Step 2: list 5 songs that inspired (or capture the feel of) your oc. if you chose multiple, feel free to pick your favorite or do songs for all of ‘em!

NORA JEAN KINGSTON - FC5/FC:ND/FNV

1. Tales of Dominica - Lil Nas X

in this broken home, everyone becomes predictable / I’ve been living in my lowest, it's safe to say, hope my little bit of hope don't fade away / I've been living on an island made from fate, can't go running back to home, I can't face her face / finally grown, ain't nothing like I hoped it would be, out on my own, I'm floating in an ocean-less sea / could I be wrong, was everybody right about me, scary things in my head, I can’t dream, and I just-

2. The Saint Of Lost Causes - Justin Townes Earle

I'm a bad dream / I’m not a nightmare, I'm too goody for that / let's just say I'm the last thing you wanna see coming, I’m the reason they say watch your back / but for so long, I was like a wounded hound, backed into a chain-link fence / just pray to the Saint of Lost Causes

3. Mary Jane’s Last Dance - Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

she moved down here at the age of eighteen, she blew the boys away, it was more than they'd seen, I was introduced and we both started groovin', she said, "I dig you, baby, but I got to keep movin' on" / last dance with Mary Jane, one more time to kill the pain / I feel summer creepin' in and I'm tired of this town again

4. Django - Luis Bacalov, Rocky Roberts

have you always been alone / have you never loved again / love will live on, life must go on, for you cannot spend your life regretting / you must go on

5. The Middle - Son Little

living in a world, so cold, so crowded / don’t need no good friends, just one bad friend will do / you know when I'm drinking, all I need is a drink / good lord have mercy, no more shaking in my shoes, so goodbye to misery, man, that's yesterday's news / can’t abide a lie, but you sure can't stand the truth / but when I’m drinking, don’t need nothing but a drink

CAROLINE SEED / MARGARET “MAGGIE” VAUGHN - FC5/FC:ND

1. In Every Dream Home A Heartache - Roxy Music

every step I take takes me further from heaven / but home oh sweet home, it’s only a saying / penthouse perfection, but what goes on, what to do there, better pray there / all of its comforts seem so essential / disposable darling, can’t throw you away now / I’ll dress you up daily, and keep you till death sighs, inflatable doll, lover ungrateful / oh, those heartaches! / dreamhome heartaches!

2. Katie Cruel - Karen Dalton

when I first came to town, they called me the roving jewel / now they've changed their tune, call me Katie Cruel / through the woods I go, and through the boggy mire / straight way down the road, til I come to my heart's desire

3. Mind Is A Prison - Alec Benjamin

sometimes I think too much, yeah, I get so caught up, I'm always stuck in my head / I wish I could escape, I tried to yesterday took all the sheets off my bed / and they put me back in my cell, all by myself, alone with my thoughts again / guess my mind is a prison and I'm never gonna get out / I won't give up on hope, secure another rope, and try for another day

4. When The Night Is Over - Lord Huron

tell me where did you go? I've been searching high and low / I have only 'til the night is over / in every window I pass, your reflection in the glass makes me wonder if my mind is going / shadows shifting in the rain, slowly driving me insane / by the stars above, I know we were in love / I have only 'til the night is over / when the night is done, you'll vanish in the sun, will I hold you when the night is over

5. She Doesn’t Sleep - Anthony Amorim

I think there's something wrong with a friend of mine / she’s wasting away all her time / looking through the past for something / she sits across the room from an old TV, with just her mind, she controls the screen / she’s waging a war on the weak, she’s opened the door to your dreams and turned them into nightmares, a life she's gonna keep / can you feel her, do you fear her, all she wants is for you to be near her

FAITH ESCAJEDA / SEED - FC5

1. Lady May - Tyler Childers

now, I ain't the sharpest chisel that your hands have ever held, but darlin' I could love you well, til' the roll is called on high / I've seen my share of trouble, and I've held my weight in shame, but I'm baptized in your name, lovely Lady May

2. Babooshka - Kate Bush

she wanted to test her husband, she knew exactly what to do / a pseudonym, to fool him, she couldn't have made a worst move / she sent him scented letters, and he received them with a strange delight, just like his wife

3. Marcy Me - Jay-Z

we know who we are, yet we know not who we may be, so maybe I’m the one, or maybe I’m crazy / I’m from Marcy Houses, where the boys die by the thousands, back when Pam was on Martin, yeah that’s where it all started

4. Danger & Dread - Brown Bird

I've heard you wake up crying from the evils lying under our bed / you say there's no use trying to protect you from the danger and dread / though this world is made of fearsome beasts that bark and bite we were born to put these creatures through one hell of a fight / may we feast upon the flesh of any fever that befalls you tonight

5. Blown Away - Carrie Underwood

there’s not enough rain in Oklahoma to wash the sins out of that house / shatter every window 'til it's all blown away / every brick, every board, every slamming door, blown away / 'til there's nothing left standing, nothing left of yesterday

BONUS: FAITH ???, MOTHER OF THE EDEN’S GATE CULT, WOMAN OF THE APOCALYPSE - FC5

1. Gassed - Bobby Krlic

no, no, no, no-

2. My Least Favorite Life - Lera Lynn

this is my least favorite life, the one where you fly and I don’t / a kiss holds a million deceits, and a lifetime goes up in smoke / this is my least favorite you, who floats far above earth and stone / the nights that I twist on the rack is time that I feel most at home

3. Once Upon A Time - Michael Abels

instrumental

4. Didn’t Leave Nobody But The Baby - Emmylou Harris, Alison Krauss, Gillian Welch

your mama's gone away and your daddy's gonna stay, didn’t leave nobody but the baby / she’s long gone with her red shoes on, gonna need another lovin' baby / you and me and the Devil makes three, don’t need no other lovin' baby / come and lay your bones on the alabaster stones and be my ever-lovin' baby

5. The Devil’s Trill Sonata - Giuseppe Tartini, David Oistrakh, Lev Oborin

instrumental

[spacecowboyhotch]

Pretzels

summary: reader supports their bestfriend on the day of his ex wife’s funeral

pairing: gn!reader x aaron hotchner

warnings: death mention, angsty, some alluding to mutual feelings, kinda fluffy if you squint

AN: prompt idea from @mrsh0tchner’s cm discord as well as by her demented as post from today. There will be a part two friends don’t worry!!!

word count: 621

masterlist

“There’s no shame in crying. I promise.” You tell Hotch.

You two are standing in his bedroom before Haley’s funeral. All he has left is to put on his tie but he’s struggling to keep it together, you can tell by the harsh rise and fall of his chest.

“I need to be strong for him and for Jess.” He tries to reason, looking anywhere but at you.

You step closer to him, tilting his chin up with a single finger. “I will be strong for all of you, don’t worry about that. Let yourself grieve her.”

“I can’t ask that of you.” He grasps your hand, squeezes it, and it makes your heart jump in your chest.

“You didn’t have to ask, I’m doing it because I want to, Aaron. I’d do anything for you and Jack and Jess, you know that.”

“I have no idea what we would do without you.” His voice gets breathy, almost breaks and you pull him into a hug he returns so tightly you think he might snap you in half.

“You don’t have to worry about that right now. Just focus on what you have to get through today.” You whisper in his ear before pulling back.

You reach over to grab his tie, placing it around his neck as you knot it together. “You’ve got what you want to say?”

He nods. “In my jacket pocket.”

“Tissues?”

“Pants pocket.”

“Good. I have a bag of pretzels for Jack just in case he gets hungry.”

“Thank you. Just-” he sighs, unable to come up with anything but another, “thank you.”

“Stop, there’s no place else I’d rather be. Let’s head downstairs, the car will be here in a few minutes.” You order after taking a glance at your watch.

_____

You and Emily are standing out back of Rossi’s house after the funeral, looking at the way the moonlight reflects off the pond.

“Did you tell him?” She asks nonchalantly.

Your hand tightens around the glass of wine in your hand. “Emily, I hardly think this is the right time. I missed my chance before this nightmare happened.”

“Maybe now is a good time, maybe it’s what he needs to hear while he's grieving.”

You shake your head, taking a sip of your drink. “It would feel disrespectful, not only to Haley and him and Jack but to Jess. We’re friends too.”

“Then I guarantee Jess knows how you and Hotch feel about each other.” She wraps an arm around you, squeezing reassuringly.

“Aaron’s never made any indicator that he feels a way for me and we all know that he loves Haley. They didn’t get divorced because they stopped loving each other.”

“That may be true but I’ve seen him look at you the way he looked at Haley.”

“Maybe in the future. Right now I just want to do all I can to make this easier for them.”

“Just think about it. Not only does he need someone but you do too.” She says gently, and while you know she’s right, you know this isn’t the time to confess your love for your best friend.

You hear your name being called by the man in question, whirling around to see him standing across the lawn, eyes glassy.

“I’ll think about it Em, I promise.” You give her a squeeze and she takes your glass out of your hand.

You make your way over to Hotch who immediately swallows you into a hug. It’s one you readily return, shushing him and running a hand through his hair as you feel a sob shudder through him.

Emily watched with sad but hopeful eyes. She wishes she could just make it alright for you two, but knows that it’ll take time.

part 2: here.

tagged: @ssahotchsbitch, @ssahotchie, @mrsh0tchner, @azenpal, @disgruntledchowchow, @chelseyjoyce, @hotchwhore15, @hotforhotchner11, @ssamorganhotchner, @choppa-style, @kuolonsyoja, @heliotropehotch, @averyhotchner, @zetasaturno99, @art-and-thoughts, @spngirl05, @g-l-pierce, @qtip-blog, @scuttling, @akira-155, @j-cat, @hotchner-bau

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Nine

chapter eight - Chapter Nine: The Soldier and the Mutant - chapter ten

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n deals with the new knowledge about who her father truly was and receives a surprise visitor.

Warnings: angst, fluff, fluff, FLUFF, my gosh it’s nearly suffocating how much fluff, language, one allusion to sex, mentions of suicide, mentions of torture

Word Count: 10.1k 

A/N: I’m just gonna let this one speak for itself, thanks for being so patient 😉 

----

“HYDRA?” 

“HYDRA…” I sighed.

Melanie and I were sat on her front porch, coffee cups in hand and revelations on our lips. I’d been home for two days and the shock of finding out about my father’s longstanding lie, while still fresh, was morphing into numbness. Being his daughter too, Mel needed to know the truth as well.

“This guy’s gotta be lying,” my sister waved a hand in front of her, “He has to be, he’s a criminal a-and he’s crazy.” “He’s not lying, Mels,” I held my head in my hand with my elbow resting on my chair, “I went online and scoured the internet, Dad’s name was listed in the HYDRA files leaked ten years ago.”

Mel leaned forward in her seat and hung her head, bracing her weight on her knees. My sister had always been a rock, unshakable even in the face of the worst circumstances. Even though she was keeping it together for my sake, I could see the well of emotions that would spring up once I was gone. “I can’t believe this,” she mumbled, shaking her head softly, “But looking back, it makes so much sense.” I furrowed my brows at her, “You wanna spell this one out for me?”

“Think about it,” she turned in her seat to face me, “Dad was wracked with guilt every day since he came home from the,” she set her mug down on the coffee table and made air quotes, “‘service.’ Nightmares and flashbacks and that awful depression…I mean, the man tore himself apart for what he’d done when he wasn’t passed out from drinking. He’d have had to do some pretty nasty things to feel that much guilt.” “Yeah, well, he should have felt guilty,” I grumbled, staring down at the coffee to hide the tears slowly forming in my eyes, “He hurt innocent people.”

“Wow…” she said quietly.

I sat forward in my seat, “Mom can never find about this, the shock could kill her. And as much as I feel like she should know who she was married to, I don’t think I can destroy another person’s image of Dad.” “No, I don’t think we should tell her either,” Mel agreed, taking a sip from her coffee, “I’m sorry enough that you had to find out. Wait,” she slapped a hand over my arm, “Does Bucky know? You said you and Sam were working with him.” I had done my best to put Bucky out of my mind for the past two days, failing spectacularly. I had gotten so used to him being by my side the past week that once he was gone, it felt like something was missing. Never mind the way I’d left him, those blue eyes begging me not to shut him out, the very same thing I’d asked him not to do. I had to remind myself at least ten times a day that removing myself from his life was for his good. 

“Yeah, he knows,” I looked back down at my lap, squeezing the coffee mug so tight, I thought it might shatter. Mel threw her hands out to their sides, “And?” 

“And he knows,” I replied, knowing that wouldn’t be a good enough answer for her. “So this guy finds out that our dad tortured him for years and he’s been running around Europe with his daughter and he had no reaction? What are you not telling me?” “Mel, what do you want me to say?” I snapped my head up, “He was there when Zemo told me and he’s not with me now, there’s nothing more to tell…"

I may have been a mutant, but sometimes I wished I’d have gotten my sister’s detective skills instead. She could take one look at a person and go Sherlock Holmes on their ass before they knew what hit them. It was one of the reasons she’d made such a good psychologist before becoming a stay-at-home mom.

Mel inhaled sharply and her eyes widened, “Oh my gosh, do you-“ “Don’t say it,” I held up a hand and forcefully pressed my eyes shut, a few teardrops squeezing out onto my eyelashes, “Please don’t say it.” As requested, she fell silent, her hand slipping onto my shoulder and rubbing small circles. I trained my eyes ahead of me, focusing on the last remnants of the morning’s sunrise. I’d always loved getting up early enough to watch the light spread across the sky, giving me hope that whatever pain I was feeling was only temporary. I found no such comfort gazing at the spectacle in my current state.

“It’s better this way,” I said, not able to look at her lest she see my contradictory eyes, “Trust me.” “Well,” Mel sighed loudly, “You’re the one that knows the guy…Just promise me one thing?” “Hmm?” She pulled one of my hands out of the death grip I had on my cup and took it into one of hers, “This is huge news, life-shattering, and we’re allowed to process it however we need to. But I see that look in your eyes, none of this is on you. Don’t blame yourself for what Dad did to him.” And if Mel had spent the time I had with Bucky, watched him in the bar in Madripoor, been in the therapy session with him, seen his reaction to losing his arm in Riga, I knew she’d feel different. I had a front row seat to Bucky’s PTSD and my father had been the ringleader. How could I not feel a little responsible? ——

Sam, Sarah and I had talked the boat situation over the morning before. The offer that Sarah had received from the guy who had been interested before Sam returned home had fallen through, he’d cited the reason as that it would take more money to fix than it was worth. Ever the hero, Sam had phoned everyone in the community who had known his parents and called in as many favors as he could. As I pulled up to the docks, ready to roll up my sleeves and begin working, I was delightfully surprised at how many people had responded. There were at least a dozen sets of helping hands waiting to work. It was moments like these that reminded me how lucky I was to live in such a close knit community.

I weaved through people, greeting and thanking everyone for coming out as I made my way to the boat. “Black Falcon to the rescue again, huh?” I called out to Sam as I climbed aboard, he was standing at the bow of the ship next to somebody whose back was turned to me. “You know it,” Sam called back, turning around and facing me, along with the man who he’d been in conversation with. 

It was Bucky.

My heart stopped and I froze in my tracks, adrenaline shooting through my veins. Our eyes met across the deck and we may as well have been back in Sokovia. There was the same pain threaded through his ocean blue eyes only enhanced by the fear reflecting in mine. I wanted to run to him and away from him all at once, but knew which instinct needed to be listened to. 

I looked to Sam and faked a hopefully convincing smile, “I’ll be below deck.” Hurriedly, I hauled my ass across the deck and raced down the steps. My hands flew to cover my nose and mouth as my breathing increased. He was here, he couldn’t be here, why was he here? Any progress I’d made, however small, in trying to put Bucky to rest had been revived the second I saw his face. 

“You wanna explain what that was?” I looked up to see Sam stepping off the final stair and crossing his arms in front of me, “One day you’re friends and the next you bolt outta the room when you see the guy?” “Just,” I strained, stopping to take as soothing a breath as I was capable of and straightening my posture, “Keep me where he isn’t.” Sam sighed, reading me all too well, “Y/n, if this is about your dad, there’s noth-“ “Now what needs to be done down here?” I interrupted, placing my hands on my hips and hoping that if I projected confidence, I’d start to feel it. 

“Fine,” Sam conceded to my wishes and gestured to the engine we were standing next to, “Check the zincs. If you need to replace ‘em, we’ll have to run down to Joe’s. And just so you know,” he stood at the steps and pointed between me and where Bucky most likely stood above us, “I don’t agree with this.” I shook my head to shake myself out of the moment as he left me to my work, blissfully hidden from the person I wanted to be with most. 

——

I had never experienced a more uncomfortable day.

For the entire morning and afternoon, it was like switching a light on and off. If Bucky came below deck to fix something, I filed out as quick as I could to work above deck. We didn’t interact more than when we passed each other once in a while, each brush of shoulder sending a jolt of electricity through me. Sam had been no help either, he’d prevented me from making the necessary run to the hardware store or helping Sarah with lunch. He was determined to try and quarantine me and Bucky on the boat, most likely in hopes that my resolve would weaken. No matter how much it was killing me, I kept my distance and my head down as we made repairs in awkward silence.

When the sun began to set over the waters and there was nothing left to be done for the day, I carefully made my way up the stairs and listened for voices. When I heard none close by, I took quick steps across the deck and hopped off the boat onto the dock. I didn’t dare look over my shoulder to see if Bucky, who was stealthy enough to sneak up on anyone, was behind me and kept on my path to the outdoor kitchen area Sarah was closing up. “Good day?” I asked, grabbing an extra rag to try and get the oil off my hands from working on the engine.

“Better than you,” she retorted, “You���ve had that sour look on your face since you got here.” “Just,” I sighed and stopped my rigorous rubbing for a second, “Still thinking about everything…” Stopping her cleaning while I resumed mine, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and leaned her head against mine. Out of Sam, Melanie, myself and her, Sarah was the most removed from the situation. My dad hadn’t interacted much with the Wilsons, he hadn’t interacted with hardly anyone outside of his family, so Sarah didn’t have many memories with him nor had she fought HYDRA. It was actually nice to be around someone who didn’t have his dirty deeds bouncing around their head like an old school Microsoft screensaver.

“You,” she pressed a kiss to the side of my head, “Are one of the best human beings I know and nothing can change that, not even this.” Starting the argument that this revelation did in fact change a lot of things would be useless, I knew better than to try and prove Sarah wrong. I simply patted her arm and leaned into her embrace, taking the comfort I could get even if I didn’t necessarily deserve it. 

“By the way,” she said as she unwrapped her arms, “Sam invited Bucky to stay the night.” My stomach dropped, “WHAT?” “He was gonna go find a hotel room but that’s ridiculous when he can just crash on the couch,” Sarah shrugged, wiping off the counter once again. “Why?” I pressed my hands to my mouth in a praying position, “Why could you not be an angel who has to help everybody, just this once?”

Sarah turned to face me, placing on hand on her hip, “The guy saved your ass from being killed and ran you to the hospital,” I opened my mouth to ask her how she knew that, she held up a finger to me, “Sam told me all about Riga. It’s the least we can do for him. And don’t even think about running to Mel’s place for the night, you promised the boys you’d take them to school tomorrow morning.” I stood there, nervously wringing the cloth through my hands as Sarah walked away to finish up another task before night fell. All my efforts to keep away from Bucky were failing and it wasn’t due to anything on my part. How was I supposed to protect him if we were constantly around each other? As I looked out to the deck of the boat, I could see Sam and Bucky had winded up there drinking beers to celebrate their long day of work. It was a scene that only days ago, I could have easily slipped into. I didn’t just miss Bucky, I missed the dynamic the three of us had grown to have. Sam would have pressed a beer into my hand and lightheartedly elbowed me, I’d have settled down next to Bucky whose hand would have naturally drifted to the small of my back…It would have been a perfect end to the day. Instead, I was cursing my father for ever having dipped a toe in HYDRA’s pool, his decision had ruined my life.

——

I had two vendettas, one with Sam for inviting Bucky to stay and one with my quickly drying throat that begged for water. 

Laying in bed with my pillow smashed across my face, I peeked one eye out to check my alarm clock. 1:29AM. I’d laid in the same position for an hour, hoping that sleep took me over and my thirst would die till the morning. The family had been asleep for hours and with the amount of work Sam and him did, Bucky should have been passed out too. If I pulled it off just right, I could sneak downstairs to grab a bottle of water and get out before he ever stirred. Waking an ex-assassin wouldn’t be good for either of us.

I tiptoed out of my room, mindful of the creaking door as I passed AJ and Cass’ bedroom. Once I got to the stairs, I chose a silent approach and used my energy to float my way down the steps. I continued doing so through the kitchen, sneaking a peek over to the couch to see Bucky sound asleep. I opened up the fridge quietly and reached in blindly, feeling around till I hit a bottle and pulling it out. Tucking the bottle under my arm, I placed my hands back at my side and began to let the energy lift me.

“You do know I can hear you, right?” The familiar voice startled me, causing me to absorb the energy back into my palms quickly. I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration before turning to see Bucky, laying in the same position I’d found him in with his lids still shut. “Forgot,” I said, hoping he didn’t hear the shake in my voice, “Super soldier.” 

Flipping the blanket Sarah had given to him off his body, he swung his long legs off the couch and sat up to face me. It truly wasn’t fair how good he looked even in the middle of the night, the moonlight coming through the windows and highlighting his silhouette. Admiring his profile was the only thing making the uncomfortable silence semi-bearable. 

“We need to talk,” he started. “We really don’t,” I hurriedly replied, starting to rotate my body to flee. Bucky stood up, the couch creaking in relief as he did, “Yes, we do. You left so fast the other day I couldn’t get two words in.” “Because you didn’t need to,” I said from my place in the kitchen, “There’s nothing you can say to make any of this better and you shouldn’t. In fact, you should hate me.” He raised a tired eyebrow, “Hate you?” 

“Yes,” I said, a little louder, “Hate me for what my father did to you, hate me for being his daughter. I hate me right now, I don’t understand why you don’t.” “Because there’s nothing to hate,” Bucky chuckled softly, “You of all people have given me the least to hate.” “Bucky, of all people you should hate me the most,” I said firmly, setting the forgotten bottle on the counter, “We travel the world all week and then you find out I’m the daughter of the man whose job was to hook you up to machines an-and torture you all day. That’s the man who I drew pictures of and kissed every night before bed and thought was the greatest person to ever walk the fucking planet,” I spread my arms out to accentuate the point, “That man is one of the reasons for all that pain seeping out of you. And guess what? I’m him. I’m literally his flesh and blood! So go ahead, hate me! You have every right to, and it would make this all so much easier if you did.” “Make what easier? Ignoring each other?” Bucky crossed his arms over his broad chest, “I don’t want to do that.” I knew he wasn’t going to let it go, I had only one decent shot at ending the conversation and I needed to take it, even if it broke my heart. “Well, it’s what I want,” I picked up the bottle again, trying to pretend I was as confidant in my decision to walk away as my words were.

“That’s a lie and we both know it,” Bucky said, the tiniest smirk appearing on his lips, something I always found cute but now found annoying. 

It may have been the biggest lie I’d ever told in my entire life, but it was also truth. I wanted to leave Bucky before he inevitably left me. “No, it’s not,” I said, my voice threatening to tremble as I used it. “You wanna look me in the eye and tell me that?” I hadn’t dared to make too much contact with those wild eyes that I’d fallen for, I’d only give in all the quicker and let his grace draw me straight into his arms. He’d called my bluff, knowing that lying to him was easy when I didn’t actually have to see him and that I couldn’t continue the charade if that changed. As I dragged my eyes up to meet his, the tears I’d been fighting back began to come forward. He looked broken and whole at the sight of me, exactly how I felt.

“What do you want me to say, Bucky?” I whispered, my throat closing with emotion.

“I want you to tell me, to my face,” he paused, drawing a shallow breath, “That I’m crazy and that I read every signal wrong.” It would have been less painful if he’d sucker punched me with his left hand, I’d have actually preferred it. It had taken everything in me to tell just one lie, I couldn’t do it again to either one of us. But I also couldn’t succumb to my feelings. “Bucky…” I shakily began, clenching my fists at their sides.

“Because you’ve been living in my head pretty much since the minute I met you, and I don’t wanna sweep this week under the rug like it was nothing,” Bucky made a sweeping motion with his hand, “I don’t think I can.” “Bucky, we can’t…I can’t do that to you.” “Do what?” he asked confusedly, squinting his eyes as if he couldn’t see the issue. “I don’t want to hurt you!” I snapped, allowing the tears to break free of their restraints and shed themselves, “There’s going to come a day where every memory of what he put you through is going to be blamed on me and I can’t wait for the day where you wake up and look at me like I’m the monster my father was. I can’t have a little of you, Bucky, and then lose you entirely.” My cheeks were wet with my guilt, I made no effort to dry them or cease their streams. I stood there on the edge of where the kitchen met the living room staring at the man who held my heart, trying to pry it from his hands to no avail. Bucky looked just as surprised by the revelation as I’d been when it flew from my lips without any opposition from my head. 

“What did you say to me in Riga?” he whispered, his voice raising slightly to try and emphasize the point he was about to make, “’I don’t believe that any part of you is capable of me?’ ‘That’s not who you really are?’” he echoed my sentiments from days ago, “You’re not him. If I believed there was any of him in you, I wouldn’t be standing here begging you to stop beating yourself up about this.” He took a step forward, waiting to see if I walked away but I was too focused on him to think about running. He continued coming forward, “Y/n, I can’t walk away from this like you mean nothing to me. You’re the first person I’ve met that sees me as Bucky Barnes before anything else. I gave you every reason to write me off and you didn’t give up on me,” he paused, swallowing harshly as he stopped in front of me, “When I’m with you, I feel safe for the first time in a long time. There’s never gonna come a day where I stop lookin’ at you like you’re the most important thing in the world to me.”

There were mere inches left between us, the words I had been dying to hear were now mine for the taking and I was too paralyzed with shock to react. Of course he had to come and hit me with my own affirmations, making perfect sense. The side of my mind that believed I didn’t deserve this happiness was screaming that these feelings would fade, that my father’s sins would always be at the forefront of us. The other side that wanted nothing more than to reach out and close the distance between us was telling me to believe him and let myself be cared for, something I’d always believed I was too broken for. And somehow they were both drowned out by the excitement I felt with Bucky in such close proximity, staring down at me with those cerulean pools, infused with the darkness that sent a chill down my spine. There was a palpable change in the air, from emotional to the great and grand something we finally near naming. Every part of me wanted to reach out and take him for for myself, to kiss him and pull him so close that there was no telling where I began and he ended. If there was a chance for me to back out, it was now. I could run to my room, to my car, anywhere that he wasn’t. But at the end of the day, that wasn’t what I wanted. I could either let myself be held captive by crimes I’d never committed, or I could dedicate myself to loving the man who the universe had somehow tied me to long ago. 

“Tell me to stop,” Bucky said, his voice hitting that low timbre that made goosebumps break out across my skin. 

I couldn’t deny either one of us any longer.

Bucky took a step towards me, his eyes never leaving mine as I backed to accommodate him and his plans. A small gasp left me as my back hit the kitchen wall, my hands reaching back to press against it to try and find purchase on something. There was now only a breath’s width of space left between Bucky and I, our shared air growing more and more heated as we bathed in the anticipation of the moment. His eyes flicked between my y/e/c ones and my lips, looking for any signs of hesitation that didn’t exist. He placed a finger under my chin to tilt my head to his liking, pausing to take in the sight of my tear streaked face in the last seconds before we let loose the storm that had been brewing inside us both. I took the time to admire the wonder on his face, the two of us his newest discovery in a world he had long been asleep to.

He leaned in and our lips finally touched, euphorically.

I found myself unable to move, overwhelmed by the sensation I’d wanted to feel since our dance in Madripoor. Bucky didn’t overstep his bounds, he kept our mouths softly connected as we absorbed each other. When he disconnected our lips, whether to repeat the act or pull away, my body snapped into action and my hands flew to his neck, pulling him back down to me. Our lips didn’t fight for dominance so much as they did try and take in as much of each other as they could. Bucky’s hand slipped from my chin and both fell to my hips, pulling me flush against his body. On his tongue, I could taste the remnants of however many beers he’d shared with Sam, they’d stayed on the boat till the first evening stars started to appear. The scent of him, freshly showered after a long day of work, invaded my senses and spurred me on further, my hands moving to fist the back of his blue henley. With our kisses becoming more fervent, Bucky’s metal arm wrapped around my hips and lifted me so effortlessly, it only made the moment more heated. I wound my legs around his waist and let him carry me to wherever he desired, him easily supporting my weight and never disconnecting our lips as he fell to the couch. My hands snaked up his back to thread themselves through the short brown locks, causing him to pull away with a soft moan before diving back into my mouth. His flesh hand took hold of the back of my head and pushed me further into the kiss, trying to taste as much of me as he could. This. This was what I had been craving since the moment I’d realized I was far more starved of Bucky’s touch than I’d thought I’d been. The delightful friction our bodies created, the pressure of our lips dancing together, the knowledge that I was just as much his as he was mine. No more questioning, no more stolen moments wondering what could have happened if we hadn’t been interrupted. This was whole and perfect and right. 

Eventually, the second long breaks we took for became insufficient and we needed to part for longer. Bucky looked gorgeously spent, his half lidded eyes following me, his lips deliciously swollen and his hair messed up from where my hands had been. I smiled as I dragged my hands to his cheek and ran my thumb over his plump lower lip, bringing a lopsided grin to his face. There was a joy I hadn’t seen him express yet and my stomach flipped knowing that I was the one to bring it in him.

“Don’t leave,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of our passion,  “Please.” In my palms, I held one of the world’s most deadly men, someone whose reputation had consisted of how ruthless a killer he’d once been. And here he was, warm and soft and begging me not to go. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered, delighting in how his eyes brightened at hearing my words. Contrasting the intensity of the minutes before, I leaned in and brushed my lips against Bucky’s with as little pressure as I could. He chased them the second I pulled away, eliciting a giggle out of me that he swallowed, kissing me so lovingly it almost broke my heart. He inhaled me like I was oxygen and he’d been deprived far too long. It didn’t occur to me that there was a chance I was his first kiss since before he shipped out in the ’40’s. “I don’t wanna stop,” he mumbled against my lips. “Then don’t,” I replied, breathing in his soft exhales, “We’ll stay up all night doing this.” Bucky chuckled, pulling away from my mouth to turn his head and press tender kisses to the palm I’d been cradling his cheek in. He tugged me closer then, my hands winding around his shoulders and his face burying itself in my neck. My laugh at the sensation of his scruff quickly morphed to a moan as he planted drawn out kisses against every inch of the bruises our encounter with Walker in Riga had left me with. I extended my neck to give him better access, feeling his lips twist in a wicked grin as his ministrations caused my breathing to quicken. “Okay, if you keep doing this,” I gasped, trying to steady my voice, “We’re gonna be up all night doing something else.” He pecked the column of my neck once more before pulling his head out and facing me, still smiling. I pressed my forehead to his and he nuzzled his nose against mine, still desperate to keep any contact he could. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while,” Bucky confessed, rubbing his metal hand up and down my back, “Thought about it in Riga, when we were fighting, in the alleyway…”

“Me too,” I agreed, grinning uncontrollably, “But you know why I’m glad it didn’t happen till now?” Bucky hummed questioningly, “Because this is the longest we’ve been together without someone interrupting us.”

Bucky chortled loud enough for me to feel the need to cover his mouth, causing me to laugh myself. I never thought that there would come a day where the two of us would be sitting on my couch in the middle of the night, as lighthearted as could be. This was a slice of heaven after all that we’d been through. “Do you believe me now when I say my opinion of you is never gonna change?” Bucky asked. Had he not proven to me that it was true, I wouldn’t have believed it. I’d have punished the both of us for the rest of my life. “As long as you believe me when I say that I know you’ll never hurt me.” I knew that there was so many layers to his pain, most that I would never understand, but he couldn’t keep a part of himself hidden forever. If we were going to do this, we were going do it wholeheartedly, taking the best and the worst parts of each other. The unlovable would never go unloved as long as we were together.

“Okay,” Bucky sighed, tightening the arm around my waist and bringing the other to my face, “Okay.” He pulled me down to press his lips to each of my cheeks, landing one last one to my mouth.

Our kisses became longer and softer, signaling that though we were both eager to explore this new territory, exhaustion was running the show. We eventually slowed down to where Bucky’s face rested in the juncture where my neck met my shoulder while my head rested against his, one arm wrapped around his shoulders and a hand running through his hair. My lips laid featherlight kisses against his temple every few minutes, taking advantage of the fact that I could do so freely now. I could feel his hot breath hit my skin at such a leisurely pace that if it hadn’t have been for his metal thumb rubbing my waist every once in a while, I’d have thought he’d fallen asleep. Eventually, when my eyelids began to shut against my will, Bucky shifted on the couch to lay both of us down. I settled naturally on top of him, my head against his chest and a hand resting on each of his broad shoulders. Just when I thought in my drowsy haze that nothing could make the moment any more perfect, Bucky pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of my head and tightened his arms around my back, securing my body to his.

This was peace.

This was right.

This was what we deserved.

——

At the sound of hushed voices and grunts, my eyes slowly opened. I blinked a few times and made out the sight of my nephews, AJ throwing punches and Cass deflecting them with the shield that had laid in the hallway for days. After days spent witnessing some of the worst the world had to offer, this was the purity that I needed to see.

“Bucky…” I whispered, he inhaled sharply as he awoke with one arm slung over my waist and the other hung over the edge of the couch. I tapped his chest and pointed to my nephews, still oblivious to our presence.

“Hey,” Bucky called, his morning voice rougher than it was the rest of the day. 

The boys jumped at the sound, Cass shoving the shield back in its case and him and AJ running as soon as it hit the ground with mischievous smiles on their faces. I laughed softly, looking up to see Bucky lazily smiling. I had the best view in the world, close enough to see the lines that drew his grin up, so different from the frowning ones I was so used to seeing. When he tilted his head down and our eyes met, his smile made no effort to lessen itself.

“Morning,” he said, bringing a hand up to stroke the top of my head.

“Morning,” I replied, shimmying up his body and taking hold of his cheeks, our lips meeting in early morning bliss, “We’re in deep shit.” “Why’s that?” he asked.

“The boys can’t keep a secret to save their lives,” I chuckled, “So you need to enjoy your last day alive because Sam is going to kill you.” Bucky wrinkled his nose as he laughed, “Thanks for the warning.” I dropped my head back to his chest, picking up one of his dog tags in my hand and reading his name pressed in the metal. I’d never been a big believer in fate, but as I rubbed a thumb over the necklace I was reminded that Bucky and I should have never met. He should have been long gone by now, Captain America’s childhood friend who met a tragic end before he could see the war won. He wasn’t supposed to be here, warming my body with his and pressing the sweetest kisses I’d ever known to my skin. Our being together defied time itself.

“Seeing them, the boys…” Bucky began, still stroking my hair, “I think I get what you and Sam were talking about back in Maryland.”

I rested my chin on his pec to see him, his gaze focused on the ceiling in deep thought. “Steve giving him the shield…It’s not the same at all.”

I shook my head, sadly, giving confirmation to his revelation. I didn’t begrudge him for not understanding right away, unless you were in Sam’s shoes you could only have so much of an understanding. The unrelenting way that Bucky had pushed him was what had caused me to call him out on several occasions. But if the week we’d had with our confrontation with the police, meeting Isaiah and coming to Delacroix had finally shown him the flaw in his thinking, I was glad. “I think you should talk to him,” I suggested. He scoffed, “I think I owe him a lot more than that.

“Well, he’s probably already out on the boat. And I,” I groaned as I sat up, straddling Bucky’s hips, “Promised the boys that I’d take them to school so we both need to get up.” Bucky made a similar sound as he swung his legs over the couch, pivoting my body so that we were in a similar position we’d been in in the middle of the night. He took my face in his hand and gave a kiss so long, I knew I’d feel the ghost of his lips until the next time I was able to feel the real thing. To think just hours before I’d been hellbent on convincing him that we couldn’t allow ourselves to act on our feelings. Here I was now struggling to let go of him to spend an hour apart at most. 

The giggling on the other side of the wall broke the spell though.

Bucky and I broke apart with a shared smile. “See you in a bit,” I whispered, pressing my hands to his chest and pushing off of him to disappear around the corner.

After dressing for the day, I corralled the boys into my car. I could practically hear their predictable thoughts and feel their eyes boring into the back of my head as I shut my door. “There’s donuts with both your names on them if you promise not to tell Uncle Sam what you saw this morning.”

A resounding chorus of enthusiastic ‘okays’ reminded me that I was the best aunt in the world who made the worst parenting decisions. 

——

By nothing short of a miracle, Bucky was still alive when I returned.

We worked on the boat with familiar stolen glances and secret smirks when Sam had his back turned. At some point Sarah kicked the two of them off the boat for attempting to repair the water pump, something she’d been repairing and Bucky and I were forced to separate. As the two men departed the dock, he turned around to catch one last look at me and flashed the smile I’d seen more of in the last twelve hours than I had all week. 

“You wanna tell me what changed from last night?” Sarah’s voice broke me out of the daze I was in.

“Huh?” 

“You’ve been staring at that man with googly eyes all day,” she climbed aboard the boat, “You’re also lucky that our brother is clueless.” 

I rolled my eyes and bumped my hip against hers, “Freakin’ mom vision, can’t get anything past you.” “I’m just glad you got out of your own way, he seems like a good guy,” Sarah smiled, “He’s also fine as hell, if you haven’t noticed. If you wouldn’t have gone for it, I might have.” Our loud laughter mixed together as I whacked her with the towel I’d been using to clean an oil stain off of the boat.

Later that day, after finishing helping my sister with a few repairs we could get done without interruptions from Sam and Bucky, I wandered to our backyard to behold a sight I never thought I’d see. Sam was throwing the shield around while Bucky stood beside him. I stopped at the side of the house to watch, the Vibranium bouncing off of training pads from our garage that were strapped to the tree. Since Sam had brought the shield home six months ago, I’d never seen him do more than pick it up and look at it every once in a while. He’d kept it stored away in his bedroom in its casing, AJ and Cass hadn’t even seen it until he’d left it in the hall after returning from Maryland. To see him wielding it now felt…right. He looked just as natural with it as Steve had. Bucky had made a 180 as well, he looked content watching Sam as he caught the shield in its return journey back to them. If I hadn’t watched them bicker like schoolchildren for the better portion of the week, I’d have mistaken them for friends. “Are you telling me that you two could’ve man-hugged it out back in that interrogation room?” I shouted as I watched them clasp hands and pull each other in, “Coulda spared yourselves a lot of discomfort.”

They both laughed and turned to face me, in an effort to save time as I made my way out to where they stood. “So what’s new?” I asked with a knowing smile, eyeing Sam as he held the shield at his side

“Absolutely nothing,” he replied, “And a little bit of everything.”

I chuckled before my eyes inevitably found Bucky’s, who was already waiting for me with an outstretched palm. “Can I talk to you a minute?” “Yeah,” I reached out and intwined our fingers. “Whoa! Wait, wait, wait,” Sam boomed, gesturing to our locked hands, “What the hell is this?”

“Something new,” I shrugged, looking up and matching Bucky’s smile.

Sam groaned in disgust, “You’ve been here twenty four hours, Barnes, you couldn’t’ve kept your hands off my sister? I-I can’t even look at this, it’s sickening, ugh…” he turned his back to us and began his walk back to the house, spinning around quickly and stuttering, “You know what? I-“ he closed his mouth and shook his head, “Uh-uh, nope, can’t do it.” Bucky and I both snorted as we watched him leave, voicing his displeasure to himself. I looked down and noticed the packed duffle bag that rested at Bucky’s feet, “I get the feeling there’s something you need to tell me?” He sighed, reaching blindly to weave his fingers with my other hand’s set. “There’s something I gotta go do. A couple somethings actually. I talked to Sam, or at least he talked to me,” one corner of his mouth quirked up, “This whole making amends thing, I haven’t been doing the greatest job of it. There’s too many names in that book that don’t have closure about what happened to someone they loved. If I stand a chance at putting what happened in the past, I gotta go ‘do the work’.”

I rubbed my thumb over his smooth metal knuckle, staring down at the space between us. “Yeah, you do,” I looked up at him, “Recovery sucks, there’s no sophisticated way of putting it. Sam and I have both seen the ugly side of it. But you owe it to yourself to work as hard as you can for your freedom, as difficult as it can be sometimes.” Bucky leaned down to press his forehead against mine. “If it hadn’t’ve been for you, I might not have believed that. I wanna get better for you too, to try and be the man you deserve.”

I hummed and bit down on my bottom lip, smiling widely. “So…you kinda like me.” “Yeah,” Bucky chuckled softly, “Just a little bit.”

The warmth I felt radiating through me, brought on by nothing more than a touch of our hands and a shared smile powered me in a way my energy never could. “Go,” I said after a few seconds of silence, “Do whatever you need to do. I think there’s some things here that I need to take care of myself.” Bucky pulled back to look my face over as if to commit every inch to his memory before holding the back of my head and pressing a kiss to my lips. Perhaps it was cruel that I had just gotten him and now had to let him go for an undetermined period of time. But his recovery meant more to me than any amount of heart pounding touches or earth shattering kisses he could give. If we ever had a shot of making it, we needed to go to our separate corners and heal.

I hesitantly broke away from his lips first, rubbing mine together after to memorize the taste he’d left. “If I don’t let you go now, I won’t be able to…” “It won’t be forever,” he shook his head, bumping his nose against mine, “Sam’s gonna call me if he gets a lead on Karli.” Rather than keep him longer with my insecurities about jumping back into hero work now knowing who my father had truly been, I decided that dealing with that was for my personal healing. I reached my arms up to wind around his neck, his finding their new home around my waist and for a split second in time, nothing else mattered. There was just me, Bucky and the future I hoped we had ahead of us. I memorized the feel of him, the rise and fall of his chest against mine, his soft hair between my fingers, the scratch of his stubble against my neck. I hadn’t had time to daydream about Bucky since recognizing my feelings for him but even if I had, they’d have never done the real thing near justice.

“Stay safe, Sergeant,” I said, pulling back to peck his lips one last time and releasing him from my hold.

Bucky picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder, giving my hand one more squeeze and holding it as he started to walk backwards. Once we reached a point where the only way to keep the contact was to follow him, we let go with a brush of our fingers till I was only holding air. With a final shared look, he turned his back to me and started down the dirt path that would lead him from our corner of Louisiana to the rest of the world. In so many ways I felt as if we’d traveled back to 1943 when he’d shipped out for England. I was sending him off to another war, this time battling his own past. Above any other feeling I felt for Bucky, the one that topped the list was belief. I believed in him more than he believed in himself and I wanted that to change. He could do it and once he did, there was no telling just how happy we could be.

But I in turn had to deal with my own demons.

——

While I wish I could have said I had a plan like Bucky’s, I had no idea what the first step was to healing past what my father had done.

HYDRA wasn’t a topic that I could just plop down on a therapist’s couch and start discussing, there were only so many people I could talk to about it. I found myself wishing that Steve was still around, next to Bucky he was the world’s leading expert on how much damage the organization could do. Without a blueprint of how to begin mending my wounds, I was left to wallow in my own grief over the man I’d believed my dad to be. Sam, however, was on fire.

After him, Sarah and I had made the unanimous decision that the boat was too important to our family to part with, he had launched into the most intense training I’d ever seen him put himself through. He was both blowing me away and not surprising me at all with his dedication.

One morning, I came outside at his normal time to come home from his 6AM run with a cup of coffee for me and a Gatorade for him. On cue, he came jogging up the dirt path I’d watched Bucky leave on days ago.

“You’re inhuman,” I said, tossing him the drink as he approached, “I’m convinced of it.” “It’s nothin’ you couldn’t be doing,” he panted. 

“Yeah, I can run with you or I can get up before sunrise. A combo deal is not gonna happen,” I chortled before taking a sip of my coffee. 

Sam joined me and sat down beside me on our back porch, the view of the blue waters a perfect accent to the almost fully risen sun. “Look, I don’t wanna know any details but…you and Bucky?”

I smiled as I stared down into my mug, just the thought of him causing happiness to bloom in my chest. “It was kinda happening the whole time, it just took us a while to realize it.” Sam groaned, taking a long swig of his drink. “That’s all I need to know, as long as you both are happy and not too disgusting with each other,” he looked out the corner of his eyes at me, “I think I can live with it.” “Well, that’s mighty big of you,” I patted his sweaty shoulder, instantly regretting the decision and wiping my palm on my bathrobe, “That shield starting to feel like it’s yours?” Sam chuckled, “It doesn’t feel like it’s not mine anymore, it’s…weird. Talking with Isaiah was sobering and he’s allowed to be as bitter as he wants. The man’s earned to right to feel anything after what he’s been through. But,” he sighed, “I couldn’t let it go. All that pain and suffering, I can’t let it go to waste.” “You couldn’t not be a hero even if you tried,” I shook my head in amazement, beaming with pride at my brother, “I’m proud of you.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” he hit my knee with the back of his hand, “I’ve got Torres working on some things, hopefully we can figure out where Karli might be going next-“ I couldn’t lead both him and Bucky to believe I was seriously considering going back to the fight. “I’m gonna stop you right there,” I held up a hand, “When you find them, it’s gonna be just you and Bucky. I’m out.” He furrowed his brows and twisted to face me fully, “Why?” “I can’t be the hero I thought I could, not after what I found out. It would only be a matter of time till somebody looked me up and figured out who my father was, then what? Some ex-HYDRA member comes looking for me? The public loses trust in me to protect them? Your reputation gets damaged when they realize I’m your sister?” I dropped my head down to stare at my lap, “It’s a bad idea. HYDRA doesn’t breed heroes.”

A beat of silence was played before my brother gave his rebuttal. “Look at me,” I dragged my eyes away from my engrossing coffee to him, “I couldn’t give two shits what people think about you being my sister, cause you know what? They don’t know you. They don’t know what you’ve done to try and stop the Flag Smashers, how you saved my life in that warehouse or how you helped keep our family going for five years. They don’t know how stubborn and caring and how much of a hero you are without your powers,” he paused and smirked at me, “And they’re never gonna know that if you don’t show them. What your dad did was horrible, but you’re not the one that did it. If you didn’t let his secret hold you back from being with Bucky, why’re you letting it hold you back from something else you want? You don’t need to be proud of being his daughter, but you need to make peace with it.”

He was right, as if he could ever be anything other than. Sam was counseling me like a sister but also like one of the countless veterans he’d helped wracked with guilt. I didn’t know if I’d ever fully recover from the hurt that came with the revelation, but if I kept on going how I was, I’d be a complete hypocrite. If Bucky could face the victims of his crimes and confess to them, I should’ve been able to deal with my ghosts. All I’d ever wanted to do was help people, to use that mutated gene of mine to help right wrongs. To do that, I needed to do the work. “This is a far cry from a few days ago when you were ready to send me packing,” I retorted. “Well,” Sam chuckled, “You proved me wrong. Fighting with you by my side just felt right, made me wish you could’ve been there for ‘em all.”

The fact that I had shown him that I could keep up with him was astounding, I honestly didn’t think it would ever happen. But with his approval, I’d have to have been an idiot to walk away from it all.

“Good talk,” I smiled, patting his leg while taking one last sip of my coffee before handing it to him.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked.

“Making peace with it.”

——

The drive from Delacroix to New Orleans had always relaxed me. The disappearance of the deep bayous as the scenery slowly changed to city, the ever present cypress trees, the hour travel time always gave me time to think. Something I was thankful for today especially.

I parked my car outside my destination, making the long trek through the cemetery I’d visited every week as a child. My feet automatically as I passed the neat rows of above ground tombs until I reached where I needed to be.

Keeping a safe distance away, I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets and took a deep breath. “Hi,” I whispered, greeting my father’s tomb as if I expected it to speak back to me. “Um…I don’t know if you can hear me wherever you are but…there’s some things I need to talk to you about.” My eyes began to water, partially from the wind hitting my face but mostly from the tears that had been waiting to spring free. “Why’d you do it, Dad?” I whispered against the lump in my throat, “I don’t understand how you could ever have been a part of something so destructive. You were the last person I would have ever believed could have done something like this. You were my hero,” I looked down at the ground between us, “I never thought you’d end up being the villain.” I drew a shaky breath and continued, “I watched your guilt over your ‘time in the service’ tear you apart to a point where you thought death was the only way out so…I think it’s safe to assume you felt bad about what you’d done. I watched you every day try to be a good father to me and Mel, you didn’t succeed all the time but you did your best. I know you loved us…” “Somehow,” I dug the heel of my sneaker into my the dirt, “I’m trying to find it in me to forgive you, Dad. For the pain your secret’s brought me, for what your name could do to the rest of my life, for lying…But the one thing I don’t know how to forgive you for is what you did to Bucky,” the tears that I’d finally gotten under control threatened to start again, “Because Dad, he means the world to me and to know that you were behind that pain that’s running his life…It makes me want to hate you. And the saddest part is that I know you would have loved him if you’d ever gotten a chance to meet the real him.”

“The way I see it, I can’t undo the damage you did to the world,” my voice found its strength, “But what you did isn’t going to dictate what I do with my life. I’ve only ever wanted to do good, however I can, that’s what I’m going to do. I know that you wanted me to keep my powers hidden, probably because you didn’t want anyone to find me, but I can’t do that anymore. I can’t pay the price for your sins. So I’m gonna fight and I’m gonna try to rewrite our family’s legacy.”

“Anyway, that’s, uh, that’s all I wanted to say,” I took a slow step forward and placed a hand over the stone tomb, “I wish…I wish things would have turned out different.”

With one last gaze upon my father’s final resting place, I left the same way I’d come, for once not having to fake the confidence I was feeling.

——

“Oh, oh, it’s going…” I teased.

“Give it back!” Sam yelled! “It’s going!”

“Y/n!” 

I levitated the shield further away from Sam and slid it across the ground into the boy’s soccer net, AJ and Cass chasing me as I did. I’d only just shown them that their aunt could make stuff fly and we were currently engaged in an intense game of keep away with Sam.

“AJ! Grab it!” I yelled, my nephew hurrying to the net and lifting the shield, stumbling a little as he took off running with it on his arm. I threw up a force field around Sam, who was gaining on him, “Oh no!” Sam was laughing the whole time as he tried to punch his way out of the bubble encasing him. “Go go go!” I cried, watching the boys run off with the shield into the house, dropping the field once they were inside.

“You’re the worst influence on them, you know that right?” Sam chuckled as we slowly made our way towards the front door. 

“Hey, I don’t want them thinking their uncle’s the only cool one in the family,” I replied as we entered the house, pulling out my phone to check the notifications I’d feel vibrating in my back pocket. One was a news alert. “Sam.” “Huh?” I tossed him my phone and hurried through the house till I reached the television, flipping to the news to see the article come to life. The GRC was voting in New York on the Patch Act, a movement that would move twenty million refugees back to their home country.

“Shit,” I mumbled, feeling Sam’s presence behind me. His phone rang to announce a call. “It’s Torres,” he held out the phone and revealed the man’s face. “Sorry this took so long, spare you the technical details, but I finally got results for the scans you asked for and I think we’re onto something,” Torres explained as Sam and I went to look at his computer, displaying a map of Europe that lit up with bright red circles. “When we look back, all these pings, they’re from places just before the Flag Smashers hit. Clearly, they’re all over Europe. Earlier today, we got one from New York. Now, I can’t promise you they’re not using a VPN or masking their location, but…” I’d stopped listening after he’d said ‘New York,’ and turned my attention to the tv, every piece of the puzzle was coming together. Karli wouldn’t be physically able to hold herself back from interfering with the vote. “Great work, Joaquin,” Sam said, his eyes trained on the screen along with me, “We’ll take it from here,” he hung up the call and turned to me, “Time to get to work. Come with me.” He rose from his chair and led me to the coat closet nearest to the front door, opening it up to pull out a large silver case and handing it to me. “I don’t know what’s in it, Bucky just told me to hold onto it until the time came where you’d need it,” Sam stated, “I’m thinking that’s now.” Confusedly, I carried it out and up to my bedroom, placing it on my mattress and trying to figure out how to open it. There was no keyhole, only a bar that hosted a red screen. My finger brushed over it, the action turning it blue and the case automatically released an air lock I didn’t know it had. Waiting a few seconds to make sure nothing popped out, I carefully opened the box to see something I couldn’t have predicted in a million years. Resting on top of the surprise was a note on the nicest stationary I’d ever seen…

You may be able to kick my ass, but I’m never gonna stop trying to protect you.

- Bucky

I breathed a soft laugh, holding the paper in my hand and imagining Bucky hunched over a table, writing the words that were now lodged in my heart. “Sam,” I called out, leaving the case open and rushing across the hall to my brother’s room, “Sam, it’s-“ All words disappeared and all thoughts halted at the sight of him opening up his own case, I didn’t need to see its contents to make an educated guess at what was inside of it. There were a dozen emotions playing out on Sam’s face, wonder, apprehension, excitement, shock…Every one of them valid but none of them coming close to the amount of pure determination in his eyes.

I watched from the doorway, smiling, “Ready when you are, Cap.”

----

A/N: AHHH. Only two chapters left, hope this one lived up to your expectations. Getting your messages and comments and asks have been making my days and I’m so glad people are enjoying this little ride I’m taking us all on. Let me know what you thought and/or if you’d like to be tagged for the remainder of the series!

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[oddlysatisfyingtales]

Regret

I am using the plot line of the first season of American Horror Story, but with my own ideology of how fucked up this would actually be. This is technically a fanfiction, I won’t deny this, however, I’d like to make this story my own. I have changed the names but some of the story is very similar, and these characters reflect what I want them to. I want to post this because I want to hear what people think, although, I am a sensitive bitch and am in no way comparable to some of the incredibly talented people on this platform. 

If I had known what my life was to become after I dug those blades into my wrists; after I allowed my life to seep out through the slits in my veins, my blood smearing the acrylic coating of the tub like a demonic sacrifice, I never would have done it.

I gave in too soon. If I had just...waited a little longer...things would have changed. The steady beat of my now dead heart a tease to my never ending time...and that’s all I want...for it to fucking end. 

Regret. It’s something we all feel at times, but it’s now the tagline of my existence. A taunting idea that in life encourages change, but in death sits like stagnant pond of perpetual torment. 

I’m now tethered to the very walls of the house that I wish I could burn down. I’m cuffed by the memories, the nightmares of each expansion of my lungs. I want to end it all so bad. My heart aches to stop, to rot away, to be eaten by time and magots and to rest within the comforting soil of the earth. Who knows where I’d go, where my soul would be sent. I don’t know if I believe in God, but I know I believe in the devil. I’ve seen him. I looked into his eyes and felt the heat of his breath against my cheek as he relished in how I squirmed and cried in death.

I’ll never leave this place. This is my sentence. I can only hope whoever or whatever put me here has deemed me accounted for in the grand scheme of things.

I have a lot of time, or whatever the fuck I’m in, to sit in my miserable teenage body and assess my choices, my mistakes, and to accept that I did this to myself.

I read a lot. At least, when I was alive, I collected a variety of books I never made the time to read.

I’ve read and reread Of Mice and Men. Random, I know. When George kills Lennie, I still cry, the scene alluringly underwhelming in the depiction of George’s act of mercy. 

How is it mercy? How is shooting someone’s brains out showing mercy? 

George told Lennie his favorite story, his favorite story being the dream in his head, bunnies brushing his ankles, as he dragged his large hand over their fragile spines...and he’d be with George.

“Me an’ you.”

“You...and me. Ever’body gonna be nice to you. Ain’t gonna be no more trouble. Nobody gonna hurt nobody nor steal from ‘em.”

Lennie said, “I thought you was mad at me, George.”

“No,” said George. “No, Lennie. I ain’t mad. I never been mad, an’ I ain’t now. That’s a thing I want ya to know.”

And he shot him...right in the back of his head. Why? To save him from the onslaught of consequence. Lennie was slow, but his strength was multiplied, and of all the animals he’d accidentally killed, his hands, their power unbeknownst to him, had finally taken the life of another person.

For some reason, when I allow myself to mourn for George, it feels like I’m mourning for myself, too. Maybe this house was an act of mercy. Maybe the consequences to come in life would have killed me anyway. Maybe my choice to die wasn’t really my choice at all, but the devine intervention of something trying to spare me and those close to me. 

Maybe.

The reality of the pages and ink slip my mind because I feel so close to those men. They went on a journey to escape their simple heartbeats for the vibrant pull of more. And they came so close to more. Just like me.

“Crying again? Over that fabrication?” I looked passed the book between my fingers, Synth meeting my wetted gaze. I sniffed, swiftly sliding my hand over my eyes. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s a good thing it doesn’t matter then, huh,” I spoke grimly, slamming the book closed before shoving it in my armpit to slide off the ledge of the patio railing.

“I don’t know why you’re such a bitch to me,” he remarked bitterly, and I avoided his face while passing him. In classic spirit fashion, I passed through the wooden craft of the grandiose front doors of the house. Walking through the ornate entryway, the floor’s eclectic design never ceased to impress me with its burgundy, white, navy blue and gold accents glowing from the sliver of sunlight coming through the symmetrically hung, faded orange curtains by the door. I trudged up the stairs, feeling Synth’s unrelenting presence behind me.

“Don’t take it personally,” I mumbled, stomping up the carpeted steps with a little more drama than necessary. 

Upon reaching the second floor I swung myself around to find Synth one step away. He halted in his spot, his eyes level with mine from where he stood. “I’d advise you not to follow me to my room...you know how he gets.” His face fell. In obvious faux amusement, his lips twitched upwards.

“I’m not trying to steal you from your boyfriend,” he muttered, his curly red tresses falling forward to hang at his shoulder. His dark eyes wavered though, betraying the confidence he was trying to exude. 

I huffed in bewilderment and left it at that before turning on my heels to proceed to my room. I noted that his footsteps no longer trailed behind me. “I’m not afraid of him,” he called, still standing on the staircase. All I could do was smile. He was so full of shit, just like everyone else in this God forsaken house.

“You should be,” I muttered under my breath, not caring if he heard.

While I was dead, I was still fresh to this limbo. My body still got hot and cold, and my stomach would still growl every now and then. I was told that these things would eventually go away as my essence dwindled away, my attachment to the world still lingering in my more recent departure. 

Upon entering my room, my skin pricked with goosebumps, the temperature annoyingly chilled from his presence. I sighed, and prepared myself for his unveiling as I padded towards my bed. 

“What did I say about hanging out in my room,” I asked in annoyance as I climbed into the comfort of my sheets, my book falling beside me and I lifted my legs to push myself back into the headboard.

“This was my room before it was yours, you know,” he spoke, his voice calm. I held back a scoff, my fingers fumbling with a loose string on my blouse. 

No matter how resolute I was in hating him, my nerves always betrayed me.

“I don’t care,” I scornfully uttered, “it was mine last, so get out.” 

He said nothing. I waited. The temperature in the room dropped more, alerting me to his approach. I welcomed the chill, my skin heated from anticipation. 

He mostly left me alone, only showing himself to me in moments when his own strength became tenuous.

“I wish you loved me,” he muttered, and I flicked my eyes toward the invasive sound of his voice, my irises scanning over the seemingly empty space, his physical form hidden within another layer of space.

“You think I don’t,” I questioned, and paused for a second, the muscles in my hands beginning to twitch. I clenched my fists, not caring if he saw. I continued, “Why do you suppose I demand you stay away from me?”

I was terrified of him. He is everything I regret in my life and now my death. His face enrages me with a love so demented, I want to gut myself without ever closing my eyes so I can stare at my ravaged body as a reminder of what he did to my dreams, my peace.

And yet, what’s worse is I am his everything. Without me, all he is left with are the things he’d done...all the horrible things he’d done. The way he dealt with his pain in life was a curse. With gaping lesions on his skin, he learned to bask in his agony, ripping his fingers into the holes to distract himself from the rotting carnage of his soul. He clutched onto the dirtiest parts of his existence in efforts to sustain his sanity, but he’d lost it long before, anyway. 

“You’re,” I paused, unsure if I should continue in the direction I was about to. But I wanted to. I wanted to just say it for how it was, “just so…pathetically sad…weak…scared.” He said nothing, but I could feel the particles in the air around me beginning to vibrate. “Which is okay,” I continued, “In fact, I'm starting to understand that that may just be the inherent state of all of humanity, yet,” I stopped, suddenly overwhelmed with how fucking hopeless someone has to be to do all the things he did, “you did what the majority of people have the strength to keep from. You know, too. How pitiful you are…”

“Yes!” He yelled, cutting me off, “I do know!” And he revealed his pretty face, blistered in anger and so beautifully adorned in regret. A regret too late adopted to now only suppurate the abscess that is his heart. ”I know,” he barked, stepping into the moonlight to reveal the tears streaming down his cheeks. “I know,” he repeated, so sadly that I felt it in my own dead, regretful heart.

“Please,” he suddenly begged, “please don’t do this anymore.” 

“You did this,” I retorted harshly, unfazed by his pain. “I’m convinced you did all of this!” I motioned to the house around us, damned by God himself. 

“No,” he cried, his messy blond hair falling into his eyes as he hung his head, hysterical shame pouring from his form like blood from a severed limb, “I didn’t want any of this!”

“It doesn’t matter what you want” I conceded softly, exhausted from the unending battle of living with demons. “This is what we deserve. And that is the only thing that gives me any form of peace, if I can even call it that.”

He lifted his head and strided toward my bed. 

“Don’t,” I warned, clenching my fists into my sheets. He stopped at the end of my bed, a strained look in his eyes. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he grievously reasoned, holding out his palms in surrender. 

“Everything that you could have done, you did,” I countered, my chest tightening at the reality that not only was I eternally trapped with my rapist, murderer, ex-boyfriend, but that I was still disturbingly in love with him. 

[shesolodolo]

All my time has been focused on my freedom now

Why would I join ’em when I know that I can beat ’em now?

They put their words on me, and they can eat ’em now

That’s probably why they keep on tellin’ me I’m needed now

They tried to box me out while takin’ what they want from me

I spent too many years living too uncomfortably

Making room for people who didn’t like the labor

Or wanted the spoils, greedy, selfish behavior

Now let me give it to you balanced and with clarity

I don’t need to turn myself into a parody

I don’t- I don’t do the shit you do for popularity

They clearly didn’t understand when I said I get out apparently

My awareness like Keanu in The Matrix

I’m savin’ souls and y’all complainin’ ’bout my lateness

Now it’s illegal for someone to walk in greatness

They want the same shh, but they don’t take risks

Now the world will get to see it’s own reflection

And the anointed can pursue their own direction

And if you’re wrong and you’re too proud to hear correction

Walk into the hole you dug yourself, fuck a projection

See me in my freedom taking all my land back

They sent a lot against me thinking I’d just stand back

I got my legs beneath me, I got my hands back

A lot of people sabotaged, they couldn’t stand that

I turned the other cheek, I took blow after blow

There’s so much crisis in the world ’cause you reap what you sow

When you keep what you know is meant for someone else

The ditch you dig for them, you must just end up in yourself

I’m in the secret place, I keep a sacred space

They keep showin’ their hands, but keep hidin’ their face

If I’m a messenger, you block me then you block the message

So aggressive, the world you made is what you’re left with

Pride and ego over love and truth is living reckless

Yall niggas got a death wish, the stupid leaves me breathless

[anonbeadraws]

So I caved and with @spacespectres help made an avatarsona! With a big chunky statement to go with it!    (Trigger warnings for homophobia/transphobia, conversion therapy, death and parental abuse. Everyone gets just desserts though.)

‘I’m, actually not sure why I’m here. You can’t help me, my son is gone and the police arn't saying it but - I’m sorry, my ears are- It’s like- You know those alarms, the ones that are made to disperse kids at shopping centres, keep them from causing trouble- not that i think they work. you see more of them these days, scruffy and dirty, what their parents doing, i don’t-  Anyway, it’s like that noise, that high buzz. it’s meant to be that, as you get older, your brain tunes it out, adults aren’t meant to hear it anymore, just keep on shopping without hoodlums hanging about outside smoking and throwing shit at the elderly.   I don’t miss that, Ben’s smoking, i’ll say that. That’s awful to say, i bet you’re thinking, god how terrible, her child’s missing and she’s moaning about a few nicotine stains on the ceiling.

I know theres plenty that would call me a terrible mother anyway, i know the neighbours didn’t agree with my decision, the decision of a single mother, who struggled enough just to keep her child fed and watered and out of trouble, to then struggle to keep him from wearing my lipstick when i was out of the house-!   I have no problem with the gays. I want to say that, have that clear. I just know, what he was doing, that wasn’t my Ben, that wasn’t my son and, the Helping House was what he needed.   I’m his mum, i know what he needed, don’t care what his dad says. he wasn’t here, he wasn’t here to raise Ben, so he doesn’t-

The pamphlet was so nice, so professional and i checked it out online, all 5 stars, apart from the odd protester sticking his oar in, and it was- reassuring to know he’d be looked after, helped! Get what he needed. And he was fine when i left him there, with his old school backpack with all his bits in, the Helping staff there to welcome him. Reminded me a little of when he started primary school, he looked so small, all big eyes…  They promised it’d be a couple of weeks, maybe a month, and then he could come home, all better.

  I got to visit every weekend, which was nice! Sometimes brought him biscuits, can't beat home made, chatted a little. He still had that, that look from when i left, like he was little again, when i could tell he didn’t really want to leave me at the gates, he didn’t want to go in all alone, couldn’t we just go home instead mum?  But i was strong. For him. I resisted.

I think, it was when that look started to go, that little boy look, replaced with something, i don’t really want to think about even now, that i really noticed the other patients. One in particular. He looked different from the others. Props to the Helping House, they keep, kept the kids tidy. it was actually lovely, real treat to see Ben all combed and neat, not smelling like his trash dump of a room. And not a whiff of smoke! i’d honestly not have been surprised if he’d snuck in some ciggies in but if he had, they must have confiscated em quick.    No fags in the Helping House! I mean-! oh you know, what i mean!

But this one,.. they all dressed in clothes from home, apparently they worked out its better for the process, this one was a mess. Half shaved hair, no knees in the jeans and honestly, sunglasses indoors? who did He think he was!? Mick Jagger?  He just slouched in the corner of the visiting room, looking out into the gardens, like he belonged there in that clean good place.  They were nice gardens, well looked after, like the kids. I remember it was coming up summer, lots of lovely flowers. lots of happy bees.

Anyway, i did Not like how Ben looked over at, him, while we had our cups of tea. it was this, gooey soft look i’d never seen on him. later i remembered it. it was how his dad looked when we started courting. That cloying honey sweet love that turned sickly and choking far too quick. God, that look, on my boys face? You bet I had words with the staff before i went. I did not bring my boy here to get help and it be ruined by some hooligan with warped intentions. I made sure they understood. They didn't seem to know what i meant by the Sunglasses kid but it’s a big facility, probably get a lot of patients. Their success rate was incredible really, always seemed to be spaces open. Whatever they did, didn’t do a lot though. Cause i kept seeing him, every time i visited. And he drew a crowd.       At first it was the ones who didn’t have family to come, poor dears. They’d be sat, close as they could to him. They had rules about touching in the Helping House, and rightly so, helps with, the temptation, but they’d sit there, close as they could to him, just listening, sun on their faces from the big glass window.  Now that i’m thinking about it, I don’t think i remember ‘em blinking?    Anyway, Could never hear what was said, what venom that creeper was pouring into their ears, whenever i tried to hear him over the other visitors, it just came over as a low buzz. Well, whatever it was, those kids were hooked.  I didn't like it. And the next weekend, there more of ‘em! You’d have kids that’d be crying one week that their family hadn't come, who didn't give two shits the next, pardon my french. They’d be sat in the corner, happy sappy faces, listening to whatever nonsense that kid was murmuring to his little flock. They didn’t touch, not then, but it was a close thing, i remember being so shocked that nothing was being done about it. It was obviously a problem. that weirdo was the problem.

But my boy didn’t stray. He might’ve looked over at that hive of idiots who worked against what these good people were trying to do for them, with that… look. But he stayed and drank his tea with me like he should. He looked tired, but i knew that’s cause he was working hard, getting better.  i got the reports.

But the last couple of visits, i come in and it’s just my boy in the visitors room.   The rest were outside in the garden, in the flowers. All those kids, twenty or so of em, tangled in each other, touching and so close. I don’t think they were, Doing things but, it was against regulation for sure,  and I stood up, to go do something, anything, even just yell at them to stop it, ask what they thought they were doing!? That’s when the Buzzing started. For a second i thought it was just a bee come in from the garden, poor little bumble trapped indoors but it was in my ears, in my head. It was nothing i’d ever felt before and I’ve had Tinitus and that’s a nasty bugger but it was more than that.

Been to the doctors since. Apparently they can’t work it out, whats causing it. All they can say was it wasn’t Tinitus.

I think it was, Sunglasses looking at me. I remember when i got up, to tell ‘em off, i remember light in the corner of my eye, like a reflection off glass. I think he turned, he knew i was going to stop em and he-

Last sunday was the last time, the last visit. Had a big tin of biscuits, gingerbread, Ben’s favourite, had some nice news about his cousin getting into uni, first in the family! Always had hopes Ben would be the second, but-  Ben wasn’t waiting for me. He was outside. With Them.

Him.

There he was, holding the hand of that freak and the staff were just stood round like numpty’s doing nothing! Dumb faces and vacant as their patients were outside rolling about in the sun like it was the 60’s! And smoking! I thought, they must’ve found a stash cause i could see the smoke, swirling dark against the sky, dark against their smiling, stupid faces.

I was furious. i was, so angry.

I think thats why i did it. I was so angry that i couldn’t think of anything else to do but grab that sunglasses wearing freak who was corrupting my boy, who was holding his hand and steering him wrong and undoing all my work and love, and shake my anger out of him. I was yelling all that, yelling at him. I remember he was light, not as heavy as he should be, not for a kid his age and that he didn’t flinch. And he spoke to me, in that low drone that I thought had been just distance and space distorting his voice, but was just him, god it was just him.

I cant remember exactly what he said, something about love, real love, some hippy nonsense. No, i remember one thing. The little shit asked if i thought i was ‘my child’s real Family.” ‘Of course, i said, ‘i’m his mother’ Then he smiled, like i was wrong and i hated him. And I could see myself, in that dark reflection, in those stupid shades and i couldn’t stand it.   I wish i hadn’t, done what i did. i just didn’t want to see myself in that black mirror anymore, all twisted and hateful.   Turns out it was far nicer than what was behind them.

I let go, dropped it, that thing in ripped jeans and stripes and it fell into the flowers. There were so many happy bees. Thats when i heard the other kids. They had it’s voice, shared it’s voice, that drone. That buzz. i didn’t dare look at them. My ears, started up again, like before but, that sound, their sound, it made it louder and i honestly thought my head might explode and I turn to Ben, my boy, who had dropped to his knees in front of that thing, holding it’s hand and for a second, I thought he was smoking again, dark wisps coming from his downturned face and, I just, my fear turned to anger, for just a second, that he would do that here and now.

But I begged him to come away, to leave it alone, to get better, to just be my little boy again, to come home with mummy. Then he looked up, my Ben, and his face-   it wasn’t smoke, it had never been smoke. it was the same as whatever had been bumbling around in the creature that still lay in the flowers but Ben smiled all the same. I, feel crazy, crazy saying it but- as the bees poured out of my little boy’s smiling mouth in that choking swarm, their buzzing droning out his words, my boys last-

My name is Sarah

i’d never seen him happier.

Apparently I fainted. Never fainted in my life, i’ll tell you, too tough for that sort of thing, but i must’ve. Police think it’s what saved me. I like to think otherwise.   Officially, what happened was that the patients turned on the staff, killed em and left. Simple, explainable. Some sicko’s like to use what happened as an argument against conversion therapy, old hippy dykes that don’t have enough to picket over, idiots.  They didn’t see the bodies, they didn’t see what those ‘helpless victims’ did- They dragged them outside after they killed em, into the sun, into the flowers. I remember waking up once, amongst all the dead. Happy bees, dipping their beaks into the blood of the doctors. Plenty of sugar in blood, I read.

Ben was all i had left, my only family. I don’t have no one left. You don’t get many visitor when the papers insist you made your kid a killer. Don’t even get phone calls from Dave anymore, but i call that blessing. He was barely Ben’s dad anyway. I’ve gotten used to the quiet. i go to work, i come home, watch a bit of telly. the buzz from the old tv only scares me a little. I know i did my best for him. i believe that, after everything. I wouldn’t be here though, if, there wasn’t, something else.

 I had a visitor the yesterday. Wasn’t expecting it, thought it was a missionary, Jehovah’s or something. Was ready to tell them to piss off, i tell you. It was a girl. Said she was my daughter. she looked like my Ben, same smile, same funny little knees he used to scrape up, ones i used to kiss better. It wasn’t Ben. My Ben had eyes. My daughters words buzzed, like there was something in her throat. Perhaps the same things that crawled where her eyes would be, round and yellow and bumbling, i thought, and my head starting hurting again. She only stayed at the door, didn’t come in. She said she just wanted to say hello.

She said she’ll visit again.

That she’ll bring her family.

i don’t think she means me anymore.’ The magnus archives belongs to Rusty Quill, the above belongs to me!