#Natalia riddle writes

[vtoriacore]

༺𓆩 valentine’s brutal, darling! 𓆪༻

♡‧₊˚‎ the inner working of the heart:

this event will only contain pieces that will either be yandere or nsfw! bear in mind, nsfw will only be written for afab readers and will use she/her prns but yandere pieces will always be gn! i do write wlw for nsfw.

now that we have gotten that out the way, here is some info regarding this valentine’s event! the entire selection of prompts (or rather lyrics which will be used as inspiration for the writing) is based on chase atlantic songs! there is no requirement for you to know about them or their music however, as the simple rules will explain everything you have to do! <3

these will be posted in instalments that will be sorted by fandom and nsfw/yandere! so it may take me a lil’ while to get everything out and ready. please be patient <3

‎♡‧₊˚‎ follow the heartbeat:

have i captured your interest? great! let’s move onto the rules shall we? don’t worry, they’re quite simple! all you have to do is send me the song title and the character you want it with after reading the lyrics from either the yandere section or the nsfw section! 

however! i will only write for a specific character once. and the same applies for the song title! so if, let’s say, the song ‘moonlight’ was chosen for ‘azul’, neither the song nor the character could be requested again! 

therefore, this event will work on a first come, first served basis. i will regularly update what characters and songs have already been chosen, so stay on the lookout for that dear! if your request doesn’t get written, this will be the reason why.

requesting nsfw for the twst first years is strictly prohibited <3!

‎♡‧₊˚‎ to your heart’s desire:

        ❥ twst [riddle, ace, cater, leona, ruggie. azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, vil, rook, lilia, sebek]

        ❥ genshin impact [albedo, cyno, hu tao, kazuha, kaeya, eula, ayaka, ayato, lisa, mona, nilou, ningguang, ei, kokomi, heizou, childe, tighnari, venti scaramouche/wanderer, xiao, yae miko, yanfei, yelan, zhongli] 

        ❥ hetalia [feliciano, ludwig, kiku, lovino, gilbert, antonio, yao, alfred, ivan, matthew, francis, arthur, vladimir, elizaveta, tolys, lukas, matthias, emil, tino, lux, natalia, feliks, yong soo, allistor // luciano, allen, zao, flavio 

        ❥ ikeprince [yves kloss, clavis lelouch, chevalier michel, silvio ricci, gilbert von obsidian]

❥ 25/25 slots taken <3 thank you to everyone who participated! i will be writing these until april between my studying and by then everything will be out and this post will get a masterlist!

♡‧₊˚‎ vtória’s playlist [yandere]:

❥ now paused [SCARAMOUCHE];

"friends - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ▶ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ and what the hell were we?

tell me we weren't just friends

this doesn't make much sense, no “

➵

❥ now paused [FELICIANO];

"numb to the feeling - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ▶ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ heard you got a heart, let me see

heard you got a heart, let me see

i need you to split that thing with me

yeah, i need you to split that thing with me ”

➵

❥ now paused [KAEYA];

"slide - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ slide, i can see the pain in your eyes

i don't wanna say that I'm good, but

i'll take you to heaven if you die “

➵

❥ now paused [LOVINO];

"right here - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ it's happening again

well, i don't give a fuck about your friends

i'm right here, here

oh, baby, take a look around

i'm the only one that hasn't walked out “

➵

❥ now paused [FLOYD];

"swim - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ you picked a dance with the devil and you lucked out

the water's getting colder, let me in your ocean, swim

out in california, i'll be forward stroking, swim

so hard to ignore ya, 'specially when I'm smoking, swim “

➵

❥ now paused [XIAO];

"consume - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ and I know there's a blade where your heart is

and you know how to use it

and you can take my flesh if you want,

but baby, don't abuse it “

➵

❥ now paused [IVAN] [tw - SH];

"uncomfortable - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ my head could be a vessel for your own mind

all you gotta do is talk

a flood is slowly building at your wrists now

and death is just a thought “

➵

❥ now paused [LEONA]:

"paradise - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

 ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ▶ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ it feels like heaven on the inside

you’re calling my name and, oh, it sounds nice

the way that you're dancing in the moonlight

i think I'm falling in love with all these big signs “

➵

❥ now paused [ANTONIO];

"falling - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ oh, we've lost it

screeching off with no names

you said, ‘watch this’

with your hands in the rain “

➵

❥ now playing [CHILDE];

"what u call that - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ i'm sorry that i took my time to call back

well, i don't wanna spend time with your family

'cause i'm afraid i'll run my mouth and start rambling

wait, i know that your dad doesn't like me “

➵

❥ now paused [YELAN];

"you too - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ knew you had a heart

didn't know that i would break it, off

don't choose

if you love it, then you cut the thing loose, yeah “

➵

❥ now paused [ALFRED];

"triggered - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ telling you, i won't slow down, won't slow down

you gotta know right now, there's no way out

i’mma pull the trigger off

and i’mma let these bullets talk “

➵

❥ now paused [RUGGIE];

"dancer in the dark - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ oh baby, maybe it's that look in your eyes

they been telling me you wanna leave

you’ve been dancing with the devil all night

it's like hell is where you wanna be ”

➵

❥ now paused [ALBEDO];

"cassie - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ shit i probably tore their heart right out

at least that's how it feels right now (yeah)

but we're holdin' on, we're holdin' on

we say some words, we land them wrong “

➵

❥ now paused [VIL];

"her - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ i'm getting feelings that i didn't before

and all i wanna do is stay with them

but i know all i have is one day with them “

➵

❥ now paused [AZUL];

"moonlight- chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ▶ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ we're diving through the bottom of the ocean

swimming through a bottle of emotions,

maybe i was thinking you would notice “

➵

❥ now paused [GILBERT];

"heaven and back- chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ well, you lied

you said you were fine

but now you're terrified

say you don't wanna die

then you start to cry

you wish that you could take it all back “

➵

❥ now paused [HU TAO];

"23 - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ i can't believe this is happening

what did i do?

what did you do to me?

this isn't true to me “

➵

♡‧₊˚‎ vtoria’s playlist [nsfw]:

❥ now paused [LUCIANO];

"slow down - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

   ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ i don't know if you already know how

but, i got the feeling that you know now

you're buried in the pillow, yeah, you're so loud

but i'm about to show you, baby, slow down“

➵

❥ now paused [JADE];

"church - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ▶ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ and I'll keep leading you on

if you keep leading me into your room

the drinks are all gone

but that's fine, baby, so am i “

➵

❥ now playing [ALLEN];

"devilish - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ sever off the head and watch the body fall

see you in the depths, that ain't a metaphor

sex, blood, fashion, dripping holy water

holy shit, she worshipping my dick like it's the Holy Father “

➵

❥ now paused [JAMIL];

"okay - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ i can feel it in my brain

hit the tongue, watch it dissolve, just take a taste, yeah

she gonna make decisions either way

i swear ever since i hit it i ain't ever been the same, yeah “

➵

❥ now paused [ROOK];

"meddle about - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

  ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ no, i wanna to see you undress now

i wanna hear you confess now

we only met each other just the other day

but you already got me feeling some type of way “

➵

❥ now paused [YAE MIKO];

"too late - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ slide in, came with perfect timing

she climbed in, picture-perfect timing

slide and put her right beside me

sing this, i'm gon' bet she’ll date me “

➵

❥ now playing [AYATO];

"oh mami - chase atlantic"

01:23 ━━━━●───── 03:43

ㅤ ㅤ◁ㅤ ❚❚ ㅤ▷ ㅤㅤ

“ mamacita, i can see the devil in your eyes

muy bonita, tú quieres estar by my side

she might make me stay in for the night “

➵

[natcliachen]

LOCATION: Great Room DATE: Monday, September 5, 2005 (post scavenger hunt, before dinner) Closed starter for @riverbills

It's the moments we share, the memories we find.

Natalia tried not to be disappointed with the answer to the riddle and the lack of prize at the end of the scavenger hunt. She clung to that disappointment, finding it more preferable than the overwhelming sentimentality that washed over her when she realized Richard had crafted this entire hunt solely for the purpose of getting the wards to work towards a single goal and spend time together.

She wandered into the Great Room and spotted River, taking a seat on one of the sofas nearby where she crossed one leg over the other and regarded him. A mix of curiosity and mild amusement on her face. "River, hi," she greeted, her tone more cordial than usual. Since their return to Woodrow, River had surprisingly managed to stay relatively low on her shit list. "I'm surprised Hollywood let you go so easily. Aren't you writing its next big hit?"

[twistedroseytoesy]

Hello it's 🎵 anon again! I've discovered songs for the other characters that may or may not fit:

Yuu: Young, Dumb and Broke by Khalid or Gimme Gimme Gimme by ABBA or Money On My Mind by Sam Smith or Hate Me by Nico Collins or Wonderland by Natalia Kills

Grim: Nom Nom Nom Nom Nom Nom Nom by Parry Grip

Crowley: Greedy by Ariana Grande or Money Money Money by ABBA

Crewel: Fashion by Lady Gaga or Fashionista by Jimmy James

Trein: Soft Kitty, Warm Kitty from The Big Bang Theory

Vargas: Physical by Olivia Newton

Sam: Shopkeeper Song from Undertale

Ambrose: Everything Is Not as It Seems by Selena Gomez

Chenya: Twas Brillig from Alice In Wonderland

Neige: Happy by Pharrell Williams or I won't give up by Jason Mraz

The Dwarves: Heigh Ho from Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs

Rollo: I'm Sorry I Couldn't Save You by Xinclair

Riddle's Mom: The Family Jewels by Marina and The Diamonds

Falena: Save Me by Not A Robot ft adrisaurus or Lullaby for A Princess

Cheka: I Just Can't Wait To Be King from Lion King

Rielle: Part Of Your World from Little Mermaid

Jamil's Parents: Robot or Good In Me by Jon Bellion ( I feel like it's Jamil singing this to his parents) or Afton Family by APAngryPiggy

Najma: Hey Bother by Avicii or Surface Pressure from Encanto (second one is more of Jamil to Najma tbh) or You'll Be In My Heart from Tarzan (again more of Jamil to Najma)

Vil's Dad- Superstar by CG5

And that's all for now. Please let me know if these are suitable for the respective characters.

HECK YA! nice to see ya again 🎵 anon! I do have to warn you that I don't really know a lot of the side characters that arent staff, so I might not be able to say if they do or don't fit the character. Sorry about that.

Yuu: Holy heck there are so many! But I guess that makes sense due to Yuu/Mc being a self-insert for many.

The first song is a fun and laid-back kind of beat and lyrics. Fitting for the more relaxed Mc type, happily enjoying the chaos and optimistic about the future despite any troubles.

The second song is a fun beat and song. Not really sure how to categorize this one though. Fun and good song!

Third song is really sweet, a nice beat and song with kind lyrics, this is for the Mc's that are out there to help the students of NRC, but struggle due to the financial stuff Crowley puts on them. Amazing choice!

Fourth song gives the vibes of an Mc that is in love with these toxic villains that go to this school. they're down bad despite how cruel some can be.

The last song is very fitting for the whole premise of the Twisted wonderland, using different fairy tales to call out to those they are in love with. Cool song, but didn't like the video due to its erotic nature but I could just ignore that and focus on the lyrics and music.

Grim: Roblox war flashbacks really cute song, but not much I can do with this song for Grim. A cute and fun song so thanks!

Crowley: The first song doesn't really fit him due to the fact that he would never admit that he's greedy. That's the opposite of how generous he always is! good idea but not quite.

The second song has an amazing melody right off the bat! this song is definitely fitting, could change the focus from getting a man with a lot of money to them doing better than RSA. Amazing fit, but I don't plan on writing it out. Good choice!

Crewel: The first song is a bit too intense for how he works in my head. Also, the second language that is used in the song would be hard to work with.

Second song is a lot more fitting of his personality. His commands and the way he talks to his students. PErfect fit for the fashionista teacher.

Trein: hehehe! what a cute and wholesome song for the grumpy old man. Can definitely see him singing this to Lucius when he thinks he's alone in his classroom. heck yes.

Vargas: Wow... It's a good song for him, I would just have to change a lot of the lyrics to make it more family-friendly. I like the energy just way too many innuendos.

Sam: Love this tranquil song, but there are no lyrics to change or song to write, it's great, but not quite fitting. Besides, I think the song he's got already is perfect.

Ambrose: I don't know this character, or any of the side characters much, but this song doesn't really fit his joyous attitude and kindness. Honestly think this song fits Crowley more than Ambrose. Also, A song that I think would be more fitting is "Higitus Figitus" or "that's what makes the world go around".

Chenya: Very fitting to have the Cheshire cat person sing the Cheshire cat song. Apparently, it's a part of a different song/poem, the Jabberwocky. So I might have him singing it and the mc coming into those specific lyrics. very good choice.

Neige: Both of these songs are so good for the ball of pureness that is Neige, the first song gets everyone dancing and will bring a smile to many. While the second song brings a bittersweetness that moves many to smile at times they've had in the past and to look forward to more times of joy in the future. They're perfect for him.

The Dwarves: Of course we have the little dwarves singing the original dwarves' song in the mines. Not much to say or change with this one, just perfect.

Rollo: New character I know nothing about since I try to avoid spoilers. Strange song and has fairly self deprecating vibes. Not sure if this fits him or not. not willing to look at spoilers for now over it anyway. interesting choice, I cant say much about it due to ignorance of the character.

Riddle's Mom: This woman fucking sucks. the song is amazing and shows a side to Riddle that he probably has buried to try and keep the tense peace between himself and his mother. The song shows that he's better than the things his mom demanded of him, that he's better because he strayed. He's made friends, he's happier and he's more beautiful being imperfect than the gemstones the mother expected him to be. Not going to write it since its so perfect.

Falena: So this is the brother of Leona, the king of the sunset Savana. The first song is deep and shows that Falena was aware of Leona's struggle and tried to help. The second song had an amazing MLP animatic that tugs at the heartstrings. Not fitting for the lion brothers but a song of love and heartbreak. I think the first song fits better.

Cheka: Fun childish song of carefreeness for the bundle of joy that is Cheka! also fitting for him to sing his Disney counterparts' songs. Another I wouldn't write due to not knowing him well enough.

Rielle: Apparently he's the twisted version of Ariel from the little mermaid. So that's cool! classic singing of the original characters' song. The longing to see another world, to learn something new and try something different. seems fitting for this excitable prince.

Jamil's Parents: Dang, that Robot song is very deep into the issue Jamil always had with his servitude. He blames his parents and Kalim for his upbringing, having to hold himself back, to seem lesser because he was just a servant just someone inconsequential and only there to help others. This could be an inner soul song for him.

The second song shows just how much Jamil hates that the things he was good at had to be restrained, that he had to hold himself back and never speak his mind. Another build-up to his eventual overblot.

the third song was awesome, but not very fitting to the story for Jamil. Good song and it had an awesome animation too.

Najma: the brother song is sweet but doesn't really capture the banter and the snarky remarks we see between the two, this is that deep familial love that we don't get to see much of due to how Jamil works.

Second song of surface pressure is pretty fitting for how hard Jamil works and puts on himself. During the festival we see how much Najma cares, despite the teasing, she doesn't push him or demand much. She listens and supports her brother. Probably what kept him sane when he worked as a servant for all those years.

The last song is again a bit too sappy for the two vipers, but The sentiment is sweet and they do care for each other in a passive-aggressive (at times) way.

Vil's Dad: Never seen this character, I think. So I don't know if this song fits or not. But if he's proud of what his boy can do, despite some not-so-savory things to others. Then ya that song fits him well.

[blondejellykitty]

୨୧ dear diary ୨୧

hii my name is natalia :)

ironically my favourite colour is actually blue, i love to take photos of the moon (its about the only thing i have saved on my camera) and my favourite food is pizza.

my interests include reading fantasy and crime books, watching sci-fi and youtube commentary, learning about greek mythology and the roman empire, playing video games (badly), and procrastinating writing fanfictions.

i love found footage series' (slenderman and backrooms mostly) and want to one day make my own. my dream jobs are being a historian or a detective/csi.

i was homeschooled most my life, and i have a lot of social anxiety irl so sometimes that blurs into online as well, so i apologize if i don't immediately respond <33

characters i write for <3

SLENDERVERSE - PLUS CREEPYPASTA (2009-2018) 🩷 Brian Thomas (Hoodie), Tim Wright (Masky), Jay Merrick (Skully) (platonic), Alex Kralie, HABIT, Evan Myers (platonic), Jeff Koval, Michael Andersen, Jeffrey Woods (Jeff the Killer), Liu Woods (+ Sully) (Homicidal Liu), Toby Rogers (Ticci Toby), BENDROWNED, Cody Denzel (X-VIRUS), Jason Meyer (The Toymaker).

PERCY JACKSON - BOOKS (2005-2014) 🩷 Percy Jackson, Jason Grace, Leo Valdez, Luke Castellan, Annabeth Chase, Thalia Grace, Clarisse La Rue, Octavian Blair, Clovis Grant, Ethan Nakamura, Castor Riley, Pollux Riley, Triton, Apollo, Ares, Dionysus, Nico Di Angelo (platonic), Will Solace (platonic).

MARAUDERS ERA - PLUS LIGHTNING ERA 🩷James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Regulus Black, Evan Rosier, Barty Crouch Jr, Tom Riddle, Mattheo Riddle, Lorenzo Berkshire, Theodore Nott.

CALL OF DUTY - MODERN WARFARE I & II (2019-2022) 🩷 Simon Riley (Ghost), Kyle Garrick (Gaz), John MacTavish (Soap), John Price, König, Phillip Graves, Keegan Russ.

GAME OF THRONES - PLUS HOUSE OF THE DRAGON (2011-2024) 🩷 Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy, Jacaerys Velaryon, Cregan Stark, Aegon II Targaryen.

HADES - SUPERGIANT GAME (2018) 🩷 Zagreus, Thanatos, Hypnos, Aphrodite, Ares, Dionysus, Hermes, Zeus.

STARGATE ATLANTIS - STARGATE (2004-2009) 🩷John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Peter Kavanagh, Todd/Guide, Janus.

BLOOD OF ZEUS - SEASON ONE (2020) 🩷 Heron, Seraphim, Zeus, Apollo, Hermes, Ares.

THE WALKING DEAD 🩷 Carl Grimes (Aged up/AU where he lives).

FOLK OF AIR - BOOKS 🩷 Cardan Greenbriar.

CRIMINAL MINDS 🩷 Spencer Reid.

RESIDENT EVIL 🩷 Leon Kennedy.

CSI 🩷 Greg Sanders, Nick Stokes.

BALDURS GATE 3 🩷Astarion.

LEGEND OF ZELDA 🩷 Link.

Z NATION 🩷 10K/Tommy.

STAR WARS 🩷 Cal Kestis.

୨୧ till tomorrow ୨୧

[residentblackheart]

it me trying to revamp this account \_(°v°)_/

I will be posting a few things about my fics on here but will not really post any chapters on here because that is so much work T^T. I am also trying to actually reduce the fics I am writing for but I am totally failing (as usual).

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Series: Tales of the 2nd Year Teacher

Kusakabe Atsuya/Original Female Character Rumours about a teacher for the 2nd Years of Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College, short Jujutsu Tech, reached the ears of the Students of their Sister School they of course wanted to know everything they could before meeting the legend herself. Learning about everything they could by asking their own Teachers, especially when they figured out that Kusakabe was dating said 2nd Year Teacher.

RESIDENT EVIL

Series: Two Sides To Every Story

Leon Kennedy/Original Female Character Natalia Bard had not thought that her last day at her workplace would be one of the of the last days she would have left in Raccoon City. She fend for herself through the city until she met other survivors in the RPD. Days after she is found by someone she had never seen in Raccoon City, the Rookie that should have never arrived had found her now they have to be a team to survive this nightmare.

Old Stuff

Tags: use of Y/n

Theo Raeken/Biracial!Plus-sized!FemaleReader

Suspended (NSFW) Theo and Reader are dating but never had sex, after Reader is suspended from school, he makes her feel wanted and needed.

Isaac Lahey/Insecure!FemaleReader Tags: self-harm, death

Worthless p1 (ANGST) After the Death of Allison, Isaac leaves without saying goodbye. Reader is all alone and no one cares about her. When he comes back after a year she's different from what he remembers.

Worthless p2 (ANGST) After the Death of Allison, Isaac leaves without saying goodbye. Reader is all alone and no one cares about her. When he comes back after a year she’s different from what he remembers.

Nikolai Lantsov/Grisha!FemaleReader

Unworthy (FLUFF) Nikolai confronts Reader about not being good enough for her but she shows him that he is.

Tom Riddle/Soft!Slytherin!FemaleReader

Softie (FLUFF) Tom isn't used to Reader even after being friends with her for years, she was too kind for him and too passionate.

Lorenzo de Medici/Princess!Wife!FemaleReader

Princess (NSFW) After Reader's father, the King, was killed, her Mother sent her away to another land, marrying the oldest of the Medici house, was her only option as their mothers were good friends. The first time that Lorenzo saw his wife was as if he knew that she was perfect, he wanted to make children with her and with no one else ever.

George Weasley/Small!East-Asian!Hufflepuff!FemaleReader

Heigth (FLUFF) First day of Hogwarts and Reader is reminded that she had to deal with George Weasley once again, Fred had enough of his brother pining for the Hufflepuff and locked them in a room until George spilled his secret.

Remus Lupin/Original Female Character

Soaked Clothes (NSFW) Faye & Remus have an interesting Prefect duty

inspo for this "masterlist" from @extralively more will be added later!!

[tattlesandtales]

Character Cast: Mortals (Female-ish)

(All characters operate within the multi-verse and multi-ship ideology.)

This is all the mortal female(ish) characters that Tumblr will let me put on one post. There is a fair abundance more, if you want to write with me but don't want to write opposite any of these women, feel free to look at my other casts or dm me to hear about the ones who haven't made it to a list yet.

Astrid Bloom: a surprise to her parents, who were in their early fifties when they found out they were pregnant, Astrid was born to her mother, her biological father, and their respective partners. This meant she was raised by three dads and one mom, and a whole lot of love. However, loving them doesn't change the fact that she has her mother's (now rehabilitated) predilection for substance abuse. Astrid ran away from home and disappeared at the age of sixteen, resurfacing in hospital twenty seven months later after an OD in a public playground. She is living back home in her childhood bedroom under the watchful eyes of her elderly parents, and her adult brother and sister who live in town. She wishes she could redo her life, but all she can do is move forward in the life she had taken for granted for so long. She/her, bisexual, 19+, Kiko Mizuhara.

Aviva Lawrence: being the captain of a collegiate women's soccer team, as well as working at a carnival games booth to help pay for her nine younger siblings to survive, Aviva is a very overwhelmed and time poor young woman. You would never know it by looking or talking to her though, because she is always one step ahead of you and ready to put on the personality needed to make you like her and trust her. She is a social butterfly, a kind heart, and determined to go pro with soccer after college, especially as her art history major probably won't get her very far. She/her, bisexual, 20+, Kristin Froseth.

Darby Griffin: survival is deep down in Darby's soul, having been diagnosed with sickle cell disease as a child and the constant near death experiences that followed. She had a lonely childhood with a helicopter parent for a mother, and has grown up to be a very honest and intense and deadpan adult who takes everything too seriously. If someone complains about a boyfriend, her advice is to dump them. Very book-smart. Studying to be a social worker. She/her, bisexual, 21+, Kathryn Newton.

Grace Collins: you wouldn't think someone riddled with severe social anxiety would moonlight as guitarist and lead singer of an indie, up and coming, pop-rock girl duo, and yet there she is. Grace works front of house in a trendy cocktail restaurant in the UK, but it's a struggle considering she finds it almost impossible to talk at all when it's to/with someone she thinks is attractive, and stumbles over her words otherwise. Nobody in her work/social circles knows about her fronting the duo, other than the drummer/back up singer, and she wants to keep it that way. On stage, Grace is a completely different person: exhilarated, loud, and confident as she talks to the crowd, sings her heart out, and takes up all the space she can with jumps and turns and guitar solos. The band has been listed as one to watch on three separate up and comer lists in England, and they have opened for bigger names and international acts, as well as featured in line ups for some punk and indie festivals. The pair are definitely hoping to make it on the music scene. she/her, bisexual, 20+, Natalia Dyer.

Maisie Conrad: when she was about seven, Maisie told her twenty-four year old aunt that she wished her auntie was actually her mom. Low and behold, this began the custody fight between her auntie Blythe and Blythe's sister, Stella. Maisie wasn't privy to any of the details or reasons of this until later, all she knew was her wish came true within the year and she was living with her real mom, Blythe, and they didn't have to see her mean real aunt ever again. (Note: Blythe is available for RP with as well, if interested/curious). Maisie has just finished high school and is taking a year off to explore the real world and find out what is out there. She/her, bisexual, 18+, Sophie Simnett.

Maxine "Max" Virgo: when your father was an infamous serial killer with a sensationalised story and media-given nickname, who also taught you everything you thought you knew about love, you tend to spend your life post-arrest of him feeling a little lost and confused. Max has spent the years after her father's arrest trying to prove to herself that she's not a psychopath or a sociopath like he was, and that she is capable of love and normalcy. This included buying an Italian Greyhound named Arthur (after Prince Arthur in Merlin), whom she calls Froggy because of his buggy eyes, to prove to herself she could love and care for something other than herself. Max went through the police academy and studied forensic sciences, but when opportunities to progress in her career cropped up, she always found herself hesitating. She recently quit her job as a detective and is trying to write the story of her childhood, and for the first time since her father's arrest thirteen years ago, she is ready to let herself be seen and heard. Max is a fashion icon, a doting dog mom, a lonely woman, and creative heart. She/her, lesbian, 25, Shay Mitchell.

Oakley Love: in high school, Oakley had it all. The perfect boyfriend, the great grades, the flourishing social life, the doting parents, and the heaviest lock on her closet door. High school had prepared her for an easy transition into adult life where she'd be able to have the aesthetic wedding of her dreams, and the typical picket fence and 2.5 children with her high school sweetheart. Yet, it almost immediately went wrong two years after she graduated in the middle of her four year journalism degree. Shepherd, Oakley's long-term boyfriend, broke their unspoken rule of staying in the closet, dumping her in favour of being true to himself or something. This left Oakley without her best friend, without her plans, her dreams, and blowing her already drifting apart friend circles into pieces. Now floundering, confused, alone, and depressed, Oakley is trying to find her place in the world. She/her, closeted lesbian, 20, Dominique Provost-Chalkley.

Summer Elisabeth Strange: the secretly kind, mean-looking, alternative bisexual icon we all need. She works in a niche little book shop owned by a weird old woman named Winona, and spends a lot of time in the store where she feels safe and calm away from the frenetic energy of her home. Summer is one of six kids, and she refuses to take responsibility for any of the children she didn't have (which is all of them), which seems almost impossible at home. Summer hates the concept of "family first" and wants to live a peaceful life with a lot of plants and books in a small apartment. She is considering doing a tattoo apprenticeship, and she isn't sure how to date, and loud noises make her jump, but metal music and concerts bring her joy. She/her, bisexual, 21, Anna Kendrick.

Sunny Holmes: Sunny just wants to find somewhere to belong. She has spent her entire life on the fringes of everything, never quite fitting in anywhere no matter how or what she tries. Even after moving states with her mum after the truth about her father's affair and secret family came to light didn't help Sunny find where she was truly supposed to be--despite finding an older cousin she grows to adore and an aunty she didn't even know existed. She/her/they, lesbian, 17+, Liv Hewson.

Tiffany Kramer: working in her father's boujee, trendy, cocktail hotspot in England was not where Tiffany wanted to be, but failing out of fashion school for being unable to draw meant she had nowhere else to go. Armed with a resting bitch face and an antagonistic tongue for one of her co-workers, Tiffany goes to work every night with the intention to survive and ride the coattails of being the owner's daughter so she won't get fired for her shitty attitude. Tiffany is proud, ambitious, passionate, and deep down she's quite insecure. She/her, lesbian, 21+, Cara Delevingne.

[1-800-no-mercy]

intro & who/what i write for

welcome to 1-800-no-mercy !  this is a blog where i will post different works of many different fandoms. i can’t promise equal works for each fandom & there are definitely ones i lean more towards but i will try and write for all of these.

fandoms and characters/actors i write for are as follows . . .

cobra kai (main)

robby keene / tanner buchanan

eli “hawk” moskowitz / jacob bertrand

demetri / gianni decenzo

tory nichols / peyton list

samantha larusso / mary mouser

miguel diaz / xolo maridueña

stranger things

mike wheeler / finn wolfhard

steve harrington / joe keery

billy hargrove / dacre montgomery

nancy wheeler / natalia dyer

robin buckley / maya hawke

max mayfield / sadie sink

eleven/jane hopper / millie bobby brown

jonathan byers / charlie heaton

dustin henderson / gaten matarazzo

lucas sinclair / caleb mclaughlin

will byers / noah schnapp

harry potter

draco malfoy

luna lovegood

hermione granger

tom riddle

bellatrix lestrange

remus lupin (marauders era)

sirius black (marauders era)

regulus black (marauders era)

marvel cinematic universe

loki laufeyson / tom hiddleston

bucky barnes / sebastian stan

peter parker / tom holland

steve rogers / chris evans

natasha romanoff / scarlett johansson

thor odinson / chris hemsworth

wanda maximoff / elizabeth olsen

it (2017&2019 only)

richie tozier / finn wolfhard

eddie kaspbrak / jack dylan grazer

beverly marsh / sophia lillis

stanley uris / wyatt oleff

(characters/actors listed first are my personal favorites and who i will write for the most)

i will also write for any roles of . . . 

timothee chalamet

johnny depp

you can always request other characters and actors from these series and also from others if you wish and i will try my best to write for them. plus, i will occasionally write for characters not listed here and from different series as well. :) i’m open to writing anything (smut included) but here’s a list of what i will not write for/about.

incest

characters under 16 years of age in sexual acts

suggestive material about minors

there are probably more to add to this list, but these are the main things. 

my requests are always open and you can come by and request whenever you’d like. also feel free to just send a nice message or say hello. i always respond back. <3

if you read all this, thank you, and that is all for the intro to this blog. enjoy your time here!

[rose-demica]

A Year in Advance - 2021 goals/plan

Heya Everyone, I hope your day is going well!

I thought it was time to update everyone on my writing plan and goals for this year (2021). 

Reach 50 completed Gif drabbles... I’m currently two off, and have exactly two gifs in my inbox, so hopefully this will be achieved soon. 

Reach 100 completed Gif drabbles! I’m going to need your help for this one! I’m short approximately 50 gifs to achieve this, so please send me gifs of characters you’d like to see me write, it can be one I have already done as well, I’m happy to do something new for the same Gif. I am also working on writing something that’s actually drabble size, and not a small oneshot. 

Keep sharing my work with you all! The series and one shots that have filled my google drive and have never been seen outside of my friend group. Also any new work that I do. 

I am totally open to you sending me requests, head cannons, ideas, anything, even if you just want to chat! 

If anyone is waiting on more of/another part of an already posted fic, or you spot a character/show you’d like to see past work on, please let me know, I can boost that up the priority list (aka remember that I was working on that, and switch WIP’s/post the next part if it’s done and I forgot to post it)  ((I have memory issues... I would appreciate reminders)). 

So the shows, movies and characters I write for: 

(Under the Cut)

(side note, if a character you want isn’t on here, feel free to message me and ask, I’m often happy to write other characters/rare/unpopular characters. I’ll keep updating this as I find new addictions/expand my character base).

Supernatural:

(I haven’t seen past season 10 yet, so only pre-10 characters/ story arcs please. The bf and I are watching through them, then I’m hoping to convince him to go halvsies with me on buying the last 5 on disc.)

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Gabriel

Castiel

Crowley

Baby (Human impala anyone? Or just the impala...)

The Vampire Diaries: 

(Up to about season 6, but I am rewatching and will finish the series eventually)

Damon Salvatore

Katerina Petrova (Katherine Pierce)

Elena Gilbert (Kinda)

Stefan Salvatore (Kinda)

Niklaus Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson 

Elijah Mikaelson

Caroline Forbes

Bonnie Bennet

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Clint Barton/Hawkeye (my bae)

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow / Natalia Romanova

Tony Stark/Iron Man

Pepper Potts (and Tony)

Thor Odinson

Loki Odinson

Bruce Banner/Hulk (I’m still learning how to write this one)

Steve Rogers/Captain America (Not super comfortable with, but will do)

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier/James Buchanan Barnes (Not super comfortable with, but will do)

Ouran Highschool Host Club

Kyoya Ootori! 

Maybe the others too, 

The Chronicles Of Narnia

High King Peter the Magnificent/Peter Pensive

High Queen Susan the Gentle/Susan Pensive

King Edmund the Just/Edmund Pensive

Queen Lucy the Valiant/Lucy Pensive

King Caspian X the Seafarer/Navigator 

Some of the fae/mythical creatures

Doctor Who

Nine

Ten

Rose Tyler

Donna Noble

Captain Jack Harkness

Martha Jones

Rory Pond/Williams

Harry Potter

Harry Potter

Tom Riddle

Weasly Twins, Fred and George

Sirius Black

Maybe some others?

Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir

Marinette Dupain-Cheng/Ladybug

Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir

My Time At Portia

Arlo 

Emily

Ginger

Sam

Maybe others, (new to the game, so still learning the others)

Rise Of the Guardians

Jack Frost

Scorpion

Tim Armstrong

Cabe Gallo

Paige (and Ralph) Dineen 

Sonny with a Chance/So Random

Chad Dylan Cooper

Victorious

Jade West

Beck Oliver

Destiny (Video Game)

Cayde 6

Probably most the others too honestly

Criminal Minds:

I wanna start writing for this one, so as yet I have no set up characters.

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

The Devil’s Daughter Ch. 1

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin​

Pairing: The Winter Soldier X Reader (Bucky X Reader)

Summary: Born and bred to be a monster worthy to lead Hydra into a new age you must decide if you will become the beast they always intended or perhaps something greater... Someone worthy even, of love. 

Warnings: Literally all of them. 18+ only and please read with caution if you’re triggered by violence of any nature.

A/N: Well. Here we go. 

I won’t lie. Writing this was cathartic and I hope that it may be the same reading it. Some serious ANTIFA fuck this up vibes. 

Love y’all. 

TAGS ARE OPEN

You weren’t sure how long you’d stared at your hands. 

They seemed strange things, somehow beyond your comprehension. Attempts to flex the fingers on them had resulted in only an unsettling twitch, you knew that wasn’t the right response, and they were somehow both burning and cold in equal measure. 

In fact, your whole body felt like a contradiction. Something known, yet foreign. Too much feeling, too little. Too hot, too cold. Too still, yet constantly something was moving. 

Had you always been able to feel the flow of blood through your veins? Did each hair follicle always hum as the air moved around you? Who�� who were you?

All the memories of the past 20 years hit you with the force of a train. 

Frantically you begin to pace in the small white room, your heartbeat increasing with each lap, your breathing turning into a rapid pant. Your mind steadily piecing things together, for better or worse, pulling who you were back into sharp focus. With that clarity comes something else.

Taking a deep breath your pacing stops. 

There wasn’t a word for what you felt. This emotion went farther than rage, conviction, or vengeance. You think you’ve felt it before, in fleeting moments, but now it’s amplified - along with everything else it seemed - now-

A creaking under your hands draws your attention, pulling you away from that line of thought. With confusion, you gape at the metal bed frame beneath your hands. You’d taken hold of it when you’d stopped pacing and now the metal was crumpled and twisted. 

It worked, you realize. It actually, bloody, worked. A small chuckle trips over your lips - you’d genuinely thought you’d end up like Pierce’s daughter, dead. 

A few weeks ago was the first time you’d seen Eric in almost a year. 

He’d been different in a way you couldn’t name since that night with The Soldier. You knew it wasn’t that he actually remembered what happened - if he had you’d no doubt he’d have come close to killing you - but perhaps an impression of something stuck. Regardless, when the time came for you to go to uni a few months later he’d set you up with your own flat and sent you on your way, saying that you needed ‘time to explore yourself.’ 

It was the one kindness he’d ever done you. 

In the last three years, you’d crafted a new version of yourself. 

She was normal, relatively speaking. Studied business, partied in SoHo with friends, had a string of short - albeit far from vanilla - affairs with several people, fairly typical stuff. 

The only time you saw Eric was for required formal events, someone ascending the ranks within Hydra or the random social event. It totaled to perhaps six or seven in three years. Which was why you were shocked, and a bit unsettled, to see him at your graduation.

You’d been worried his presence would keep you from enjoying the moment with your friends, that he’d pull you into some droll dinner to pretend he was a caring and proud father. Instead, he’d simply given you a cold congratulations and instructed you to meet him at his office the following Monday. 

It still put a damper on your entire celebration - all you could think about was what the hell he wanted from you. Not even the distraction of a beautiful woman clad in leather had managed to remove your worry. 

There had been a million things you’d thought this meeting would be about. You’d run countless scenarios in your head. None came close to what your father shared with you from across his polished desk. 

“We feel it’s time for you to join The Council.” He said as though he was commenting on the weather.

“I-I’m honored.” you stammer a bit grimacing internally. He raises a doubting brow at you before striding over to the stocked bar cart to begin pouring a drink. 

“You’ll be taking the third seat.” You almost choke on your tea. “Is that a problem?” He asks over his shoulder. 

“Not at all,” you say, willing your voice steady. “What position will Jennifer Pierce be taking in that case?” Alexander Pierce headed the US arm of Hydra and to your knowledge, the third seat had been intended for his daughter. 

“Jennifer Pierce is dead.” 

“Ah.”

“Of course-” he says, turning back to you and taking a sip of scotch before continuing- “there can be no ascension of this kind without a trial to test your worth.” You knew as much, Hydra always demanded a pound of flesh - at minimum.

“She failed hers.” Jennifer was many years your senior, had done years of fieldwork and been a trusted confidant of her own father if, she failed whatever trial this seat demanded… “You will not.” 

“Can you hear us?” A male voice asks over hidden speakers bringing you back to the present. 

“Yes.”

“Can you tell us your full name?”

“Catherine Eileen Clayton.”

“What is your date of birth, Catherine?” Ah, cognitive tests. 

“The third of January 1983,” you sigh. “I’m twenty years old, a double Capricorn, and very in control of my faculties. Can we move on?”

A buzz sounds by the door. The noise grates against your newly sensitive eardrums, causing you to grimace. When it opens Eric stands in the corridor, a proud, if not smug, smile on his face. 

“I knew you were born for this,” he extends a hand. You eye it before looking up to meet his gaze. Rather than take it you remain unmoving, waiting for him to tell you what came next. For a fleeting second his eyes narrow before sweeping his arm to beckon you from the room.

“There is one final step before you’ll be ready to ascend to your seat on The Council,” he begins to stride down the hall, expecting you to follow. 

“And that is?” He stops dead in his tracks. Your heart leaps into your throat as you recognize the set of his shoulders, instinctively you brace for a blow. Instead, he turns slowly to you, his expression unreadable as he observes how you haven’t moved. 

“You can rot in that room or follow me obediently to find out.” A too familiar chill crawls up your spine and settles in your chest. Without another word, you follow him. 

As you make your way through the labyrinthine corridors of Hydra’s London base you remember being dropped down here at 10, and having to find your way out - none of the adults you encountered would even acknowledge you existed. You remember training in one of these many blank rooms - both physical and mental - though, torture may be a better word. 

The chasm that opens in your mind almost feels like home, one you haven’t been to in a little while. Quickly you turn your thoughts to how your blood seems to hum through your veins, how loud your steps are, the low tension in your muscles - anything to pull you away from that beckoning void. 

Eric stops in front of a nondescript door, pressing his thumb into the handle. An unseen mechanism whirs to life followed by a distinct click. Before he opens the door he turns his eyes on you, studying. 

“You’ve done well thus far,” he turns the handle, looking forward. “Don’t disappoint me now, Catherine.” You don’t miss the order in his tone. A voice whispers, Yes Papa, but you refuse to let your tongue form those words. 

With bated breath, you follow him. It’s much like a room you remember from long ago, a cell where he showed you exactly the kinds of monsters that Hydra could craft. Behind you the door closes, the locks sliding back into place. 

A cell lies on the other side of the room. Through the bars, you see a woman, nude, her back to you. Deep red hair tumbling in thick waves, her ragged breath scraping over your ears. 

No, you beg silently, not her. Please not her.

Once you and Eric enter the cell, the woman turns red-rimmed eyes to you both. Relief thunders through you as you release the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. This wasn’t Natalia, they hadn’t brought her here as a sacrifice to whatever future lay before you. Though, now the question rattled in your brain, impossible to ignore. 

“What is this?” You ask, lazily gesturing toward the woman. 

“What do you think?” 

“Can we stop with the riddles? Just fuc-” 

You were clearly out of practice. When his backhand cracks across your cheek it leaves you reeling, ears ringing, though you don’t fall. Once you blink your vision clear you look back to him, attempting to keep your face straight. 

“I believe I asked you a question,” he sighs out. 

You answer, “I assume she’s failed in some way, showed some unforgivable weakness.” You try to stop the words but they come anyway, “But you cannot expect me to kill her?”

“Oh? And why is that?” It’s your turn to sigh. 

“Honestly, that is hardly a test. If it gets things moving forward I suppose I will,” the woman shifts her back against the wall at this. “I just don’t know what that will prove.” He smiles, slowly. Clearly you got something right. 

“Perceptive. Killing her would be nothing for you, even before,” you swear the sick bastard looks proud. That void threatens once more, something whispering from the darkness. You push it away. 

“However, you’re wrong about her crime. She’s not here for being weak or unworthy, rather, she has refused to fall in line. We have no need for an unbroken horse.” He pauses, striding to the other side of the cell.

With his back turned, you look into her eyes. They burn with a fire you recognize - for an instant, you’re 11 again, you can feel the weight of that gun in your hands, hear your Mother’s voice- 

“But you won’t be putting her down.” The sound of another lock clicking draws your focus to where Eric stands, hands behind his back. 

A panel slides open with a swish. Eric steps aside just enough and you see him, The Soldier. 

He’d been gone when you’d woken in the late afternoon years ago, like some macabre guardian angel. Habitually, your fingers stroke the scar on your palm, remembering how gentle he’d been as he sutured the cut. 

The woman begins to sob. A broken, “No,” slipping out here and there.

Eric turns back to you, a wicked smile coloring his features. “The Fist of Hydra,” he walks back to stand beside you, The Soldier doesn’t move. 

“You remember him don’t you?” Your heart begins to beat a tattoo of alarm against your ribs. “I showed him to you when you were a child.” 

“Yes,” you will your heart to quiet, feeling like it’s loud enough for the whole room to hear. 

“It’s one thing to take a life and quite another to put the blood on the hands of someone else.” He looks down at you, “You’ll prove you can handle that, and The Soldier, by utilizing him to remove this stain from our ranks.” 

He looks over his shoulder at the woman, “Be creative. He hasn’t been let loose in some time.” With that, he strolls casually to the far corner of the cell, leaning back against the wall as though he was about to watch some kids play football.

The Soldier steps forward and the panel behind him slides shut, disappearing as though it never was. You study him, searching those pale eyes for some spark of recognition. Whatever had been there before was long gone, all that stood before you was a weapon, a tool waiting to be put to use. It chilled you. 

Behind you, the woman still weeps. It makes something bitter rise in you - pathetic, she was nothing like your mother. Even so, words you hadn’t allowed yourself to remember for so long rise in your mind.

“Always remember that you are more than this.”

“No.” One crisp, clear, syllable. It may as well have been a bomb. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’ll be better than all of them as long as you remember.” Your mother’s voice echoes in your mind.

Languidly you slide your eyes to Eric, “I said, no.” 

Everything goes quiet as his anger builds, a fire slowly eating all the oxygen in the space. What was coming would likely consume you leaving nothing but a husk behind, you don’t care. It feels good. 

Despite the waves of rage rolling off of him, his face remains impassive as he approaches you. A couple of feet away he stops, head tilting to the side as though he was seeing something puzzling.  

“She’s done nothing worth a death sentence.” You state matter of factly. 

“You’re questioning me?”

“No,” god that word felt so good, intoxicating. Maybe you were mad from the power it seemed to give you. It was the best explanation for your next words. “I’m telling you you’re wrong.” 

You read once that wolves show their teeth before they attack. Devils, you know, do the same. 

Eric’s smile is broad as he slips his suit jacket off his shoulders. Your eyes track him as he hangs it over the horizontal bar of the cell. Unhurriedly he unbuttons his cuffs, methodically rolling the sleeves up to the elbow. When he speaks again, he’s unbuttoning a single button to allow him room to tuck away his tie.

“Then how would you address the situation, Catherine?”

“I wouldn’t.” He steps toward you, on instinct you move back, not wanting to allow him a close range to strike.

“You’d allow disrespect to stand? Allow this stain to spread?” Another step forward, another retreat from you. 

“No.” 

“Then what? You’d do nothing to handle this weak-”

“You said yourself she isn’t weak. In fact, it seems to me, the problem is your own weakness if you can’t handle one-” 

Stupid. That’s the only word echoing through your skull as it slams into the wall behind you with enough force to knock a lesser person unconscious. 

Right now you’re not thinking about the bent metal of the bed frame in your recovery room. You’re not thinking of your sensitive ears or the weeks of preparation, or that you lived through the procedure when others have died. 

No. 

Right now you’re a little girl again, realizing your father is the Devil for the first time. Right now you’re the same powerless thing you’ve always been in his presence, the fear of a lifetime suffocating you. 

“Would you like to finish that statement?” Eric growls. You shake your head, too afraid to speak. “I thought not.” His fingers dig into your neck. 

“You’ve grown far too bold. Forgotten where you belong.” He takes a deep breath, eyelids fluttering as though the smell of your terror was intoxicating. “Perhaps you need a reminder.” 

“I’m sorry, Papa,” god you hate yourself for those words. 

“No,” he reclaims the power you’d felt so briefly. His knee pries your thighs apart, “You will be.” 

When his head dips down, the grotesque feel of his tongue against the skin of your neck almost makes you wretch. Before you close your eyes in an attempt to block out everything happening and all you know is to come, you catch The Soldier’s intent stare. 

He looked as though he was straining on an invisible leash, his entire body coiled tension begging for release. 

He’s waiting on something, you think as teeth sink into your shoulder. The pain brings clarity. He’s waiting on me. 

All it takes is one nod to break the invisible tethers binding him. With terrifying speed, The Soldier strikes, pulling Eric from you, pinning his arms and legs, rendering him immobile. To his credit he didn’t struggle, knowing he couldn’t break such a hold. 

“Release me, Soldat!” Eric barks in harsh Russian. The Soldier doesn’t even flinch, his eyes remain locked on you, awaiting an order. “Soldat!”

The fear which had paralyzed you seeps away as your senses begin to return and you stare at Eric. He looks angry but still calm, never willing to let his facade fall for long. Under the surface though, you can hear the racing of his heart, it seems to pick up at the same pace your own slows. The vein in his throat pulses, his breath is barely controlled, and you note the small beads of sweat beginning to form on his skin. 

Weak, something hisses from that void. This time you don’t silence it - you agree, you welcome it, this darkness he so proudly fostered within you. Now you allow the void to rise. He made you this. Killer. Demon. Weapon. The void whispers. And it is not wrong. You were all these things and now-

You kneel before Eric, gripping his chin in your hand. 

“I don’t think he listens to you anymore, Papa,” you say, the final word laced with mockery. You pat his cheek as you stand and pace away, purposely showing your back to him to be sure he knew you were no longer afraid. That you’d never be afraid of him again. 

“I do think you had a point earlier though. About putting blood on someone else’s hands being different.” You turn back to him, wanting to look into his eyes as you say, “It would be a shame to waste such a prime opportunity to learn. Don’t you think?” His eyes widen in understanding that now, the void he created would consume him.

“Soldier,” you look to him, those cold blue eyes unwavering. “Break him, but do not let him die.” 

You had worried for a moment that you needed to be more specific in your commands. After all, you wanted your father to suffer at least a taste of the horrors he’d done to others throughout his life. It only took a few moments for you to see that you worried in vain. Be it training or retribution, The Soldier methodically broke Eric down in ways that would cause the most pain without the release of death. 

For what may have been hours you remain entranced by the scene before you. Every cry of pain was a symphony. The blood on the cold concrete a masterpiece. 

This was for your mother. For every person, he’d hurt. For the child, he’d broken and forged into something irredeemable. 

This was justice. Or at the very least, the justice you understood, the justice he deserved. 

“That’s enough,” you sigh contently. Without hesitation The Soldier stops, stepping away from Eric. 

Your father’s face is almost unrecognizable. Blood, tears, snot, and vomit all paint his features into something different, something grotesque. The outside finally reflecting the sickening soul beneath. Slowly you take in the rest of his broken body, stopping at the wet stain on his trousers. 

“Piss? Really, Eric, you’re embarrassing yourself.” You press your boot to his throat as he’d done to you when you were a child. 

“You once told me, that dangerous miscalculations only served to land one under the boot of those worthy of bravery. Do you remember?” He makes no move of acknowledgment, only stares up at you with one defiant eye - the other swollen shut. 

“Oh you must,” you press harder and he gurgles. “It was just before you made me put a bullet in my mother’s head.”

“Tell me, Papa,” you spit the word. “Am I brave enough now?” 

You lift him from the floor as though he’s nothing but a rag doll and slam him into the wall where he’d pinned you earlier. Exhilaration didn’t come close to encapsulating this feeling. 

“I believe I asked you a question,” you say in an echo of his own cool tone. 

“You… little… devil,” he manages to say with a mouth missing several teeth. A laugh, bright and ringing, pours from you.

“I am the devil you made. Aren’t you proud?” 

With one hand on Eric’s throat, and the other on his chest, you begin to push your fingers between his ribs, pressure increasing bit by bit. 

The tattered fabric of his shirt and his flesh begins to give way beneath your steel fingers. A whimper rises from him that slowly forms into a cry of agony. All you can do is smile as you feel the wet heat around your hand. 

A little further and you feel the beat, the pulse of life that had animated this man for all his days. 

“Goodbye, Papa,” you whisper as you squeeze and feel that pulse cease. 

The silence that follows is absolute. 

Everything in you, and around you, quiet. 

Eventually, you let him drop to the floor in an undignified heap, stepping back. Only then does the void recede enough for you to feel anything more than triumph. Even then, you feel no regret, only the heavy knowledge of the price your actions would demand. 

A trembling breath escapes you as soft shifting sound draws your focus from what you’d done and back to The Soldier. He stands straight, quietly observing you. When you meet his eyes you’d swear there was satisfaction there. 

Fuck it. You’d likely die for this and even with him by your side you were not going to get out of this building unless they let you out. 

“Care for a drink?” You ask, lips quirking in a smile. He says nothing, just cocks his head a bit to the side. You shrug, “Suit yourself. I’m getting one.” Or several. 

To your surprise, the door to the cell opens. You stroll out hearing him just behind you. Good. 

“Hey!” A woman calls out. “What about me?” Honestly, you’d forgotten about her entirely. 

“What about you?” Is all you toss over your shoulder as the cell slams shut behind you. 

There was nothing you could do for her now, hell there wasn’t anything you could truly do for yourself. It would be a miracle if you made it back to Eric’s office without a bullet in your head. The Soldier may even be the one to put it there, he may be biding his time - though something in you doubted this. 

You’d spared the woman all you could, the rest would be up to her. 

The private elevator slides open, revealing Eric’s office, not a guard, soldier, or assassin in sight - well, save for the one you rode up with. You’re surprised but not relieved. They’d come, and soon. 

You raise your hands to rub your face only to be hit with the copper tang of blood - your right arm covered almost to the elbow. Suddenly you’re too hot, burning, your chest tight.

Outside the floor to ceiling window, London glitters like something in a fairytale. You rush to it, pressing your face to the cool glass, forcing your mind to focus on the city around you. Even through the thick glass, you can hear the rush of the wind, the slightest hum of traffic below. 

Breathe, Catherine, you try to coach yourself. Breathe. But you can’t. 

The blood paired with the city sounds that should have been impossible for you to hear makes you realize something you’d been foolish to miss in the first place. They would not kill you. Not now. 

Eric had once said that Hydra didn’t make a habit of wasting good parts, one look at The Soldier was a fair reminder of that. Before, you’d been valuable enough but ultimately replaceable - now you were an investment. 

“Someone is coming.” The Soldier’s voice cuts through your panic like a knife. You turn to see him by the door, arms crossed. Whether he was keeping you in or others out you couldn’t know. 

Taking a shaky breath you nod, “Thought they’d be faster about it if I’m being honest.” As the doorknob turns his hand moves for the knife in his belt. Interesting. 

“No,” you shake your head. He stands at attention instead, looking more like a blood-spattered statue than a man. You lean against the desk as the door swings open to reveal -

“Secretary Pierce?” You don’t try to hide the surprise in your voice, he wasn’t exactly who you’d expect to come for you. 

“Miss Clayton,” he smiles brightly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here. It’s been too long,” he holds out a hand. 

“Ah,” you hold up your red right palm. “Haven’t had a chance to freshen up. Please, make yourself comfortable,” you gesture to the bar cart. “I’ll just be a moment.” 

Freshen up? You lean against the bathroom door judging yourself. Freshen up. As though you’d been out for a light jog rather than literally shoving your hand through your own father’s chest. Freshen up. Christ. 

You catch your reflection in the mirror and freeze. 

Blood not only covered your arm but had soaked into your shirt, staining your chest, leaving splatters up your neck and on your face. Despite the gore, you looked fresh, skin dewy and bright, your eyes sparkling. It painted an unsettling image.

Even so… you smiled. 

He was dead. That bastard you’d once called Papa. Dead. By your hand.

No matter what followed, no matter what they did to you, your Mother had her justice today. They couldn’t take that away. 

You wash your hands as best you can and wipe some of the blood off your face. Getting rid of the rest would be impossible right now and there was a part of you that didn’t want it gone. Let them see it. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you say exiting the bathroom. 

“No apologies needed. Honestly, I wanted to give you time to process before speaking with you, but the others thought it best we move quickly.”

“I see,” you turn to the bar cart to make a drink. 

“So?” You sigh as you take a seat in the wingback across from where Pierce had settled himself. He sips his drink before speaking. 

“Of course we want to give you time to transition. It will be an abrupt change to your lifestyle, especially for someone so young - but we feel confident that you’ll manage spectacularly. You’ve always-”

“Excuse me, Secretary-”

“Alex, please.”

“Alex,” it felt strange to call this man who you’d known your whole life by his first name. “I’m not sure I follow. I just committed treason and-”

“I’d view it more like taking out the trash.” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Alex looks like he wants to spit, “Your father was... dedicated, to the cause. However, there are some sins that simply can’t be overlooked.” His intense eyes meet yours. 

“We didn’t know for certain until today how far his depravity went. I don’t ask you to forgive us for that, but as a father, I would never have let that…” He shakes his head, taking a deep drink. 

“I’m sorry,” he looks to you confused. “About your daughter. About Jennifer.”

His face softens, “Thank you.” He sneers, “Your father-”

“Eric,” you correct him. 

“Eric,” he nods, seeming to understand. “He said-”

“Let me guess, ‘Blood will out.’” 

“Yes, as though it was a personal failing - her death.” You look away, disgusted. “But you are not him.” Your gaze shoots back to him. 

“Miss-”

“Catherine,” you say smiling. 

“Catherine. You are what we’ve waited so long for. A child of Hydra, fit to lead us into the new age.” Your eyes narrow. “You’ll be taking your - Eric’s seat.” 

You can’t help but be shocked. Taking what should have been Jennifer’s seat had been enough of an upset, to take Eric’s… It would mean-

“It will be an honor to have you serve with me in the first seat.” The first seat, the head of The Council that governed Hydra, was always held as a joint position. “And it will be an even greater honor when you ascend even higher.”

“Higher?” There was no higher seat. 

“In time.” Alex leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking up at you. “While Hydra has many heads it has always been in need of a strong body, one that will not easily bow to the weight of time or illness, one that has transcended so many of our meer human weaknesses. I believe that you were meant to be this body, Catherine.” 

“I… I’m humbled,” you almost choke on the word. It was the right response though, judging by Alex’s smile.

“I will take that as you accepting,” he says it like you have a choice. 

“Of course!” You force joy into your tone. 

“Fantastic!” He stands, raising his glass. You join him. “To a bright future. Hail Hydra!”

“Hail Hydra,” you echo as your glasses clink together. The whiskey tastes like dust on your tongue. 

“As I said, we want to give you some time to transition. However, we will need to move quickly to ensure things continue to run smoothly.”

“I completely understand. I shouldn’t need too much time.” You look around this office, a space you’d spent so much time, a space filled with so many terrible memories. “Mainly, I’ll need to… clean house.”

Alex gives a knowing nod, “Absolutely. You have full power to change and remove,” he holds your gaze for a moment, “whatever and whomever you see fit.” 

“Thank you.” Your eyes settle on the soldier. That sense of conviction from earlier floods you again, the slightest rumblings of a very dangerous idea making their way around your mind. 

“Also,” you stride to the bar cart and refill your drink, making a gesture to do the same for Alex. He accepts. “While I can no doubt protect myself, I will need some additional security to allow me to more fully focus on the needs of the organization. No doubt, there will be those who will see this ascension as overstepping on my part.”

“Unfortunately,” Alex concedes. “You can, of course, have any security detail Eric employed.” He catches your cocked brow, “Ah, yes. Well, you can have your choice of Hydra for your own detail.”

“I had a thought actually,” you take a sip before continuing. “I’d like The Soldier.” Alex looks from you to The Soldier, still standing in the same place he was when Alex had entered.

“The Soldier…” He says thoughtfully. 

“Yes. I’d prefer to not have to doubt the integrity of my security detail, especially given the unique situation I’m finding myself in. Typically someone in this position would have had years to form their inner circle - I haven’t had such a luxury.” 

“Of course,” you add, “he’d still be at the full disposal of Hydra should he be needed.”

Alex nods, “I see no problem with it. He’s housed under European jurisdiction as it is and you clearly have a steady command of him - no small feat I’ll have you know.”

“Lovely.” 

“Any other immediate needs to make this an easier transition?” Alex asks sincerely. 

“Just one,” you walk back to the chairs and sit. “The woman Eric was going to have killed. What was her crime?” Alex shifted, seeming a bit uncomfortable.

“She was a Brown Widow,” he began. 

“A what?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 

He purses his lips, “Of course, Eric wouldn’t tell you about the Brown Widows.” He sighs, “The Brown Widow program is a sister to the Black Widow program. Brown Widows are trained in much the same way, in fact, they begin in the Black Widow program before being hand-selected to be Brown Widows. They’re chosen for having a more… genteel temperament if you will. More suited to domesticity than your typical Black Widow graduate.” 

A memory tingles in the back of your mind, just out of reach. 

“Your mother was a Brown Widow.”

You wanted to marry a spider, your mother had spoken those words when she’d garroted Eric the night she died. 

“Her death was not sanctioned, Catherine. I tried to push for an investigation-”

You shake your head, “It’s in the past.” 

“She was a spectacular woman. Eric always had to have the best-”

“So the woman?” You don’t want to think about your mother anymore. Can’t bear the weight of knowing that she could have killed Eric at any time, could have run, but she didn’t… Because of you. 

“Yes,” he clears his throat, “the woman from this evening, was a Brown Widow. She’d been assigned to a lower level associate. He was apparently… unpleasant.” You note that Alex won’t meet your eyes and suspect you know what kind of unpleasantness he means. “She may have removed a specific part of his anatomy in retaliation before fleeing.” You bite your lip to restrain a smile. 

“Is she dead?”

“Not at all. We agreed with your decision. Some punishment should likely be metered but not what Eric had in mind.”

“I’d like to have her as my personal assistant.” 

“Oh?” 

“What better way to foster loyalty than saving someone’s life?”

Alex smiled, “Wise. I’ll have her sent up.”

“Thank you. I feel that puts me in a good position to get moving quickly.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Alex says finishing his drink and standing. He sets his glass on the side table and extends his hand once more. 

“This couldn’t have been a better outcome, in my opinion, Catherine. You’re going to do incredible things. This is only the beginning.”

You take his hand, giving it a firm shake. “I couldn’t agree more, Alex. Thank you for the opportunity.” 

“We will connect soon.” 

“I look forward to it,” you open the door to let him out. 

As soon as he is on the elevator you call out to Eric’s former secretary. “Anita, can you join me?” You don’t wait for an answer, instead, you turn back into the office to refill your drink and wait. 

She enters a minute later, nervous energy rolling off of her. Her eyes grow wider by the second as she takes in your blood-soaked form leaning casually against Eric’s desk. 

“Slackjawed isn’t a good look for you, Anita.” She snaps her jaw shut. 

“W-What can I do for you Miss Cathe-”

“Madam Clayton will do.” Her eyes somehow manage to get wider, making her look like one of those popeyed pugs she doted on. “Will this arrangement be a problem for you?” The vile woman had served your father longer than you’d been alive.

“No, Madam Clayton, of course not.” 

“Good. I need a change of clothes. One for The Soldier as well, and clothing for the woman being sent up - she should be about a size eight.” 

“Yes, Maam.” She turns, her wiry frame trembling. 

“Oh. One more thing, Anita.” She freezes, no doubt expecting something awful. “I want every bit of information on The Soldier. I’ll need all of this within the hour.” Nervously she eyes the statue-like man, you can hear her heartbeat rise. 

“But, Madame Catherine… I… I don’t.”

“Anita?”

“Y-yes?” You hold her bulging eyes, staring her down until you knew she was about to break. 

“My father wouldn’t tolerate excuses. Neither will I. Is that clear?” 

“Of course,” she squeaks. “Yes, Maam.” With one last glance at The Soldier, she scurries from the room. 

Rounding the desk you finish the rest of the entirely, and annoyingly, ineffective whiskey before plopping down hard in the desk chair. Looking across the room you see that The Soldier had recrossed his arms, eyes studying you with unnerving intensity. 

A lifetime of violence had taught you how to scent it. Right now, it was beginning to crackle in the air. 

He moved so quickly you almost missed it. Almost. 

Your hand moves under the desk, gripping the Glock you knew would be waiting. As he went to vault the desk you push the chair back, rolling you toward the window and aim right between his eyes. He freezes, crouched on the desk, murder in his eyes. 

“I am not your enemy,” you say softly, remaining seated. 

“Hail Hydra,” he sneers. His hatred feels like a slap. 

You release the gun, letting it dangle on your finger, from the trigger before you stand slowly, hands up, and place it on the desk before him. Leaning in so close you can feel his breath you return his hard stare. 

“Fuck. Hydra,” you growl. 

Never had you been grateful that this room was off the grid, Pierce had confirmed that earlier. Had they eyes or ears here they’d have known the things Eric had done to you. Even so… you didn’t dare say anything more. 

It must have been enough because his mood shifts back to a skeptical neutral. Slowly he backs up, standing on the other side of the desk. Neither of you speak, you just stare, assessing if you were friend or foe until a buzz sounds from the phone on the desk. 

“Yes?” You ask pressing the intercom button. 

“I h-have the clothing you requested. The woman should be up soon.”

“And the information on The Soldier?”

“I’m getting it to-together now.” That tremulous little stammer was beginning to grate your nerves. 

“Bring the clothes.” 

One bag contained three pairs of black boots, practical though none of you would leave here in them. The other revealed three sets of black hoodies, caps, tees, and bluejeans. They’d do. 

“Here,” you hold out the pile of clothes to him. He eyes them. “Look, even if you weren’t covered in blood you can’t go out on the street looking like Edward fucking Scissorhands.” Did they have a point in dressing the man like he was on his way to a cheap dungeon?

Finally, he takes them. 

“You can use the bathroom,” you turn to pull your own clothes out. “Oh, and be sure to check them for-” He nods, turning for the bathroom. Clothing could easily conceal trackers and bugs - it was why the boots would remain here unused. 

You meticulously check the clothes provided for you and the woman, pleased to find nothing suspicious. In the small closet where Eric kept a few changes of clothes, you find the trainers you were hoping for. They’d be far too large for either you or the woman but at least you knew they’d be clean. 

Just as you pull the plain black tee over your head The Soldier walks out. His own tee stretches tight across his chest, the metal arm somehow seeming more alarming when paired with the plain clothes. Still, no one could deny that the man was a specimen. 

Drawing your eyes away you pluck the card of hair elastics from the bag, handing one to him. “If you wanted to pull your hair back.” He takes it, his eyes landing on your throat. 

“You still have,” he gestures to his own neck.

“Oh, right. If they come with the woman would you mind letting them in?” He says nothing. With a sigh, you duck into the bathroom to remove the lingering traces of blood. 

You hear the door to the office open followed by a muffled cry of alarm. When you pop your head out of the bathroom the woman stands, still nude, in fighting form. Much more firey than when she was in the cell.

“Don’t fucking come near me,” she growls in an American accent. The Soldier stands several feet away, hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans, hair up in a low ponytail. 

“He isn’t going to harm you,” you say stepping out. Though, you didn’t entirely know if that was true. He’d been ready to eviscerate you not a half-hour ago. The woman throws you a wild glare. 

“I’m Catherine Clayton,” you grab the hoodie intended for The Soldier from the pile and toss it to her. Christ, they couldn’t even be bothered to give the woman a towel to cover herself with. It’s just long enough to cover her.

“I know what you are,” she spits. What. Not who. 

“I highly doubt that.” The woman didn’t know the half of it. “Drink?” You ask nodding to the bar cart. 

“So now I’m invited to drinks?” You can’t help but smile. 

“In defense of my rudeness earlier, I truly thought I’d be dead or worse by now. Seeing as that’s not the case,” you shrug. 

“Whiskey,” the woman says, stepping closer but still keeping a wary eye on The Soldier. 

You pour her a glass and look to The Soldier, “And you?” He simply glares and turns to resume a vigil by the door. 

Surprisingly she sniffs the glass only once and downs it all in one go before you take a drink. You raise a brow and reach for the glass to refill it. 

She shrugs, “If I’m going to go out there are worse ways than poisoned whiskey.”

“I’ll drink to that.” You gesture for her to have a seat. She eyes eye chair and simply leans against it, you don’t miss the slight spark of defiance in her chestnut eyes. 

Rather than sit in a chair yourself you hop onto the desktop, facing her, and wait for her to ask the question. 

“What do you want from me?”

“I’d like to offer you a job.” She looks at you disbelieving. 

“A job.” You nod. “I’m not sure if you’ve seen my resume lately, but I didn’t exactly leave my last position on amicable terms.”

“I’m well aware. In fact, it’s what made you a prime candidate for the position.” She studies you as you continue. “I’m not looking for someone loyal to the cause. I need someone loyal to me.” You can see the flames of curiosity begin to rise. 

“And what does loyalty to you look like?” She asks before taking a sip of her whiskey. 

“Details will come in time. But, from what I hear of you, I feel our intentions may align nicely.”

Finally, she pushes away from the chair and steps closer, “Fuck it. I’m in.” You hadn’t expected it to be so easy. Your skepticism must show. 

“Look, I’d rather answer to a woman than another mouth breathing wanna be Mussolini. And,” her stare intensifies, “anyone with the spine to put down that monster like you did today is pretty good in my book.” 

She extends her right hand. Smiling you hop off the desk and take it. 

“I’m Mara.”

“Pleasure.”

“So,” you release your shake and she finishes her drink, “what do ya need from me boss?” 

“On paper, you’ll be my personal assistant.”

“And off the books?” 

“We’ll get to that.” You nod to the clothes, “For now go ahead and get changed. That hoodie is his.” Tension visibly rolls over her. 

Without another word, she grabs the clothes and disappears into the bathroom. A moment later the intercom buzzes. You press the button but say nothing. 

 “Ma-Madam Clayton, I have the f-files on The Soldier you requested.”

“Good. Before you bring them, how much cash do we have on hand?”

“Oh, I can provide you with the ca-”

“I asked a clear question, Anita.” You’d all need a place to stay until you could get your private finances sorted. With Eric gone it should be easier to do so, especially since you’d spent the last three years building a stockpile even Hydra couldn’t trace. Still, for the next few nights you all needed a safe - or at least safe enough - place and using a card would let Hydra know exactly where you were. 

“Yes, so-sorry Madam. We have over one hundred thousand-”

“Bring me forty of it along with the files.” You shut the intercom off and wait for the tentative knock. 

It comes as Mara steps out of the bathroom. She eyes The Soldier as he opens the door and warily drapes his hoodie over the wingback before standing beside you. 

Anita, carrying two banker boxes stacked beneath her chin stumbles in. The Soldier catches her by the shoulder before she topples, causing her to freeze until she catches sight of Mara. Her expression shifts from shock to indignation. 

She pulls away from The Soldier’s grip, blustering to the small table sitting between the wingback chairs. Straightening her dowdy blouse she plucks a thick envelope from the top. 

“The files and money, Madam Catherine.” She shoots Mara a filthy glare. Mara responds with a fox-like grin that further flusters the older woman. 

“Madam,” she clips out in a nasal tone as you pull the money out. 

“That will be all, Anita,” you don’t even look up at her as you ensure the bills are all there and authentic. 

“Madam,” she says again. Slowly you raise your eyes to meet her pathetic attempt at a confident glare. “This-this, woman,” she spits. “She’s to be disposed of! Your father wanted-” The rest of her words are lost in a garbled scream, your grip on her throat trapping the sound. 

For a split second, you’re a bit disoriented by the speed at which you moved, so much so that you almost squeeze too tight. With effort, you relax your grip. This was not her time to die. 

“Anita,” you purr, “who’s blood do you suppose that was earlier?”

“Mr-Mr. Clayton,” she manages to eke out. 

“That’s right!” You say in a tone one may take with a child. “And knowing that, do you suppose I give one holy fuck about anything that beast wanted?” You stare into her bulging eyes, watch her pasty skin burn red with fear and shame - both tasted so sweet. How many times had she turned a blind eye… 

She shakes her head. 

“Good,” you toss her to the ground. She rolls onto all fours, gasping for air as she crawls away to put distance between you. 

“Oh, and Anita,” her whole body goes rigid. “If you ever bring him up again, I’ll do things to you that would make the Devil himself cringe. Do we have an understanding?”

She nods. 

“Excellent. That is all, Anita.” She manages to rise to her feet, though her body remained deeply bowed as she scuttled out the door. 

You could feel the eyes of the others on you. 

“Does anyone here have a problem with how that was handled?” You ask. The Soldier simply looks at you with narrow eyes. 

“Not me.” Mara hops onto the desk. One out of two was good enough. 

“Here,” you tuck a wad of bills into your pocket and hand her the envelope. “That’s thirty thousand pounds. It should be more than enough to get us ensconced in a good hotel. I’d prefer a penthouse, two bedrooms, with clear sightlines to the roofs of the surrounding buildings. But mainly something as private as possible.” She nods. “Book a room for yourself as well.” 

You cross to one of the bookshelves, giving the bottom a swift kick. The old mechanism groaned as it slid open to reveal a small closet filled with an arsenal. 

“Help yourselves.” 

“Nice,” Mara comments with sparkling eyes. The Soldier doesn’t make a move. 

“There’s another elevator in there,” you tell her. “It will take you to the street.” 

“Where should we rendezvous?”

“French House,” it would be easy enough for you and The Soldier to disappear into the ever-crowded pub. 

“Got it,” she slips a gun into her waistband. “Shoes?” 

“Oh!” You kick off your blood-spattered black trainers. “Take these. I found another clean pair.” 

“See you soon!” Mara tosses over her shoulder as the elevator closes. 

Within two hours you’re walking into the Dome penthouse over The Hotel Cafe Royal. The terrace overlooked the London skyline and provided an easy escape should it be necessary. 

“I have to admit, Mara. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be,” she kicks off your old trainers, slipping into a new pair. “Money talks, so it wasn’t exactly difficult.” You look out one of the curved windows to the terrace. 

“What now?” She asks from behind you. 

“Now,” you sigh, “rest.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Order food to your room, have a soak, get drunk. Whatever you need.” You don’t mistake the relief that floods her face. “I’ll ring you tomorrow,” you hold up the burner phone that matched her own. 

“Ok,” she sighs. 

“Thank you, Mara.”

“For what?”

“For trusting me this far.” 

“Don’t make me regret it,” she says with a wink. The Soldier reenters the living room and she studies him. “Be careful.”

You nod, “Goodnight.” With that, she leaves. 

“I’m taking a bath,” you say to him. “I assume you chose your room?” His brows knit, a bit confused. 

“There are two additional bedrooms, what did you think I was going to have you do? Stand at attention all night?” His cold glare is enough of an answer. “Pick a room. Order food. Do whatever you want.” You turn on your heel and stalk toward the bathroom. 

You sink under the scalding water, hoping it will help clear your mind, allow the fragments of a plan that had been ricocheting around in your skull become something solid and tangible. Instead... it reminds you of the hot slick feeling of Eric’s blood. 

Gasping for air, you fling yourself from the tub, sending the small table of neatly stacked towels flying into the wall. With no small effort, you force your eyes open, half expecting to see your whole body coated in the thick red substance. 

There’s nothing. Of course, there was nothing. Nothing besides The Soldier, standing in the entrance, concern coloring his features. 

“I’m fine,” you huff, cheeks burning a bit from embarrassment. “A little privacy?” He seems to flush a bit himself and heads wordlessly from the room. 

A shower was clearly the best option. 

You wrap yourself in a plush robe before stepping from the bathroom, expecting to see the soldier in the living room. But he wasn’t there. 

No matter. You head onto the terrace, taking in the spectacular view and relishing the cold night air on your damp skin. 

Now clarity comes. 

You hear the rustle of someone behind you, the slightest hum of gears indicating that it was The Soldier. 

“I’m going to burn it all down.” The words feel electric on your tongue. “All of Hydra.”

Your mother was wrong. You were not more than this, more than them.

She was also wrong about evil. Sometimes the only thing strong enough to defeat it was an equal… 

Your father had made you such an equal. Honed you into a weapon, something as dark and deadly as Hydra itself. Being bred in the belly of that beast you knew its anatomy, its every weak spot, every flaw. 

They wanted to make you the body. Instead, you’d be a cancer, consuming the beast from the inside out. 

You turn to him, “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

His intense eyes seem to sparkle and a slight smile curls his lips. 

“Not at all.”

Relief surges through your body. You knew what you wanted to accomplish was an olympian task and without the strength and fear The Soldier afforded you - well it would have become a near-impossible one. 

A knock draws both your attention. 

“I ordered food,” he says beginning to turn away. “For both of us.” 

The gesture catches you so off guard that it renders you immobile for a moment. When you finally make it inside he’s moving the boxes filled with information on him to the ground to clear the table for food. 

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I ordered several things.” The cart was stacked to bursting and the smells rising from it made your mouth water. But there on the bottom, a familiar package catches your eye. 

Chocolate digestive biscuits. The same kind you shared with him on that night so long ago. Silently you bend to retrieve them, looking from the biscuits to him a couple of times before speaking. 

“You do remember.” He nods. Confusion roils, “Then why did you charge me earlier if-”

“People change.” He pulls the cover off of a trey revealing a cheeseburger and fries and moves it to the table. You think he’ll say more but, instead, he starts eating. The growling of your stomach convinces you to not press the subject and instead locate the curry you can scent hiding under one of those covered trays. 

Honestly, you’d never felt this hungry. You tear through the red curry and move on to another tray, this one housing a second burger and fries. It’s not until you’re done with that and are nibbling on a poor excuse for pizza that you actually slow. 

“I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”

He smiles a bit, taking a slice of the pizza, “I think it’s the serum. I’m always hungry.”

You study him for a moment, “Any other insights on that front?” 

He shrugs, “Things can be overwhelming,” he clears his throat, “sensations. Even your own body can seem too loud. You feel… more. Everything’s dialed up so you may be stronger, harder to kill, but it doesn’t mean shit hurts less.” That was actually very good information. “I’m sure there’s plenty of information in those boxes.” You don’t miss the bitter edge in his voice. 

Silence hangs thick for a bit until he asks, “Did you choose this?” 

“Choose what?” You meet his intense gaze. 

“The serum. Did you let them do this to you?”

“Do you think my bastard father would have let me choose something like this?” You scoff. Anger flares in your chest, “No.” You push away from the table and begin to pace. 

“I was simply informed that whatever life I thought I could build for myself was over. That I had to, yet again, prove myself worthy of something I never wanted and never asked for. That I had better not, disappoint.” You feel your body start to shake, “Because even my death, death at their hands, would have been a disgrace.” 

“I got milk too,” he says behind you. 

“What?” The statement seemed absurd until you turned to see him pouring two glasses, the biscuits on the table. Somehow the sight tamps down the flame of your rage. 

“Oh,” you collapse on the couch, hiding your face in your hands. Maybe emotions, like sensations, were dialed up because you couldn’t seem to get a hold of yours.

“I’m sorry,” his voice comes from closer than you expect. Looking up you see him kneeling before you, worry etched across his face, a lock of hair falling from his ponytail. 

“I didn’t… I should have…” He seems to struggle to find the words suddenly. “I don’t have space to speak freely… ever. And I-”

“You’re free. Or as free as I can make you.” You couldn’t truly grant him freedom that you yourself didn’t possess, but you hoped it was something. The emotion that shows in his eyes is beyond words but it makes your chest constrict all the same. 

“Thank you,” his voice cracks a bit at the end and he quickly stands. 

For the next hour, you both burn through the biscuits in comfortable silence. Once they’re gone you slump back into the deep cushions of the couch, exhaustion crashing over you. 

“I could sleep for three days.” You wished. Sleep and you had a tense relationship at best. 

“You should rest.” He says. 

Sighing you nod and stand, turning toward the master suite attached to the living room. 

“Actually,” he begins. You look back. 

“Yes?”

“You should probably take one of the back rooms. Less direct access from the terrace.” He had a point, there were no actual doors to the master bed or bathroom, just an open space cut up with walls that didn’t quite reach the high ceiling and the terrace wrapped around almost the entire suite. 

“I’ll take whichever. Lead the way.” You hadn’t really inspected the other rooms. 

He guides you to the one furthest from the entry assuring you that he’ll hear anyone who comes. 

“You’ll be safe,” he says, reminding you of the vigil he kept for you years ago - protecting you from the monster in your own home. You nod, in acceptance and open the door. 

“One thing,” you turn to him. “What you did back there, to Eric. Was that because I-“

“I did it for both of us.” You don’t think you imagine the slight spark of satisfaction in his expression. 

“Goodnight, Catherine.”

“Goodnight.” You realize suddenly that you don’t know his name, he never offered it, and knowing what little you did about him you wondered if he even knew… 

That would be the first thing you’d find in those files tomorrow. You couldn’t give him true freedom, not yet, but you could damn well give him his name back.

---

TAGS: @mywinterwolf​  @disagreetoagree​  @breezy1415​  @peachthatdrinkslemonade​  @wonderlandmind4​  @stevehesaidabadlanguageword​  @buckysstar​  @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​  @siriuslycloudy2​  @wildmoonflower​  @cutie1365​  @this-kitten-is-smitten​  @nighttwingg​  @handplucked​  @jewelofwinter​  @whiskeywinter89​ @damnaged-princess​ @the7intheimpala​ @saaamsayshi​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @amorluzymelodia​ @auroraluna777​ @leniaana​  @awkwardlyhot @ilovespideyyy​ @jaxthebookworm​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @olympos-92​ 

NOTE: Why does The Soldier remember her? Given what we know about him I feel like that may be one of the biggest (most frustrating) questions at the end of this so I just want to share that you’ll get the answer in the next chapter. 

[a-skirmish-of-wit-and-lit]

Book Review: Kiss the Fae (Vicious Faeries #1) by Natalia Jaster

FABLES ETERNAL!!! What a viciously lush, mischievous, and sensual read! Just like that, and Natalia Jaster has ensnared me in warm windy knots, enchanting my heart all over again. Since I'm already a fan of her writing, as well as the chimerical way she weaves her fantasy romances in delicious paradox and wordplay, I couldn't wait to soar into this fable. I was looking forward to being entwined in elegant tricks, to being swept up in colorful prose and world-building as well as in verbal sparring that would leave my head spinning with seductive pink hearts. And I have to say, I wasn't at all disappointed. If anything, this story left me floating on air. It tantalized me like the sharp, ticklish, sonorous whips of a summer breeze against my skin. It enveloped me in stunning lyricism and nature's mossy, woefully under-appreciated, arms. I couldn't devour it sooner. Couldn't breathe it in fast enough. I have a partiality for sparkling tales already, for magical worlds and characters that are woven through with arresting detail, passion, wonder--so imagine my delight to be able to settle into this wicked whimsical fairytale with Lark and Cerulean. They are everything wild, everything dazzling - oh, so succulent and fresh in repartee - that you want them to be! I promise you their enemies-to-lovers-to-mates journey is full of all the juicy "loss and longing" stuff that'll jolt you straight into the sky. It'll tack you up there like a star where you can shine down with bewitched admiration and greed. As mortal and faerie respectively, Lark and Cerulean are poised as enemies from the moment she crosses the threshold into Faerie. She's a bawdy mouthy human with a flair for stubbornness, for whips, who just so happens to have a fierce protectiveness of animals in addition to her loved ones. He's a wicked Fae ruler with blue-tinted skin and pointy ears whose words lance, not just drip, with elegant machinations. While Lark's desperate to win this dangerous game she's fallen into with him and reach the mountaintop, bringing her one step closer to rescuing her sisters, whom she loves dearly, Ceruleans's determined to thwart her with riddles and fatal bargains at every turn, with him on his own quest to restore the fauna that were lost during the Trapping (aka a war-of-sorts). What transpires between them is tons of wrangling "one up me, if you dare" fun. Seriously, it's impossible not to get swept up in the thrilling "lark" of it all. And their romance? Well, it's nothing short of feathered serendipity. It's an elaborate dance circling around the edge of chosen circumstance plus desire on top of fate. Whenever Lark and Cerulean are together, sparks fly. They just do. The lustful volleying back-and-forth is what keeps you on the hook. The even teeter between them, though, that's the element which kicks up the intrigue another notch. Heightens the passion between them, the intensity. After all, who doesn't it love it when two diametrically opposed beings (one magical, the other not) end up being well-matched in love AND war? I mean, hubba hubba! Can somebody procure me a leafy fan, please? I'm swoooooning! Their dynamic interplay also explodes into fireworks over and over throughout the story, piercing you with feeling so pointed yet so potent that it lands with the precision of a javelin's tip. Half the time it sneaks up on you. Unraveling expectation. Digging in deeper to reveal hidden meaning or themes. Then, before you know it, before you realize what's happening, you're spirited away with the characters. You're caught up in the majestic audacity of who Lark and Cerulean are, where they're from, and how they've come to fall in love with one another despite it being strictly forbidden. POINT BLANK: it's an incredibly sexy, lyrical, action-packed ride from start to finish! Never has nature felt more provocative, either. I don't know how Jaster accomplished such a feat, but somehow she made wind into the most toe-curlingly erotic element on the planet?? (Like, who the hell needs/wants fingers when there's wind around to compete? 🤣 ) I'm unabashed to say she's likely created a new kink for fantasy romance readers everywhere. (Oh, and don't get me started on how impatient I am to get my hands on Puck and Juniper's story! His brief appearance here was torture. An appealing tease. I can already tell he's a mischievous git who I'm going to love. Plus, I can't wait to see how Juniper's smarts finagle him into a tangled game of resistance vs. temptation.) So listen to me now, y'all. Hear me when I say "follow the wind." Chase it. Trail after where it blows against your computer keys...or out the door toward the bookstore, the library, or wherever it is you prefer to procure material for reading...because you need to pick up a copy of this immediately. I mean it. Consider it a mandate. *screams in every color of the wind until you heed me* I'm telling you now: there ain't nothing better than this glowing debut into a universe of Vicious Faeries! 4/5 stars

*You can also follow me on Goodreads

[just-patchy]

Masterlist

Fanfics

Princess Carry (Malleus x Reader)

Masquerade (Leona x Reader)

Sole Exception (Kalim x Jamil)

Please Don’t Leave (Jade x Azul x Floyd)

Mx. Steal-Your-Bodyguard (Sebek x Reader)

3rd Wheel (Cater x Riddle x Trey)

To Love and Be Loved (Platonic Reader-insert)

A Murmur of the Heart (Malleus x Deuce) [Twst Secret Santa]

Glimpse (Leona x Yuuta) [Twst Secret Santa]

Headcanons

Short(er) characters getting caught wearing their larger S/o’s clothes (Part 1: Riddle, Ruggie, Azul)

Part 2: Kalim, Lilia, Epel

Yandere Malleus, Jade and Floyd with a taken S/o

Persona 5 Characters Dorm Sorting [Crossover]

Dorm Leaders in BnHA universe

Anxious s/o that needs constant validation (Ace, Floyd, Lilia) [Raffle Reward]

OC

Self-insert/MCs

Charis/‘Jordan’ Mercury (Twst)

Yuuto Maihara (Twst)

Anson Leung (Twst Yuusona)

Twisted Wonderland

Florenetta (@twst-florenetta) (Info)

Stefano Fuoco | Relationships (Canon)

Johnathan de Onestà | Relationships (Canon)

Gian Sidhe | Relationships (Canon)

Marius Phantom

Lucetta Montague

Mordred Baidam

Regenis (@regenis-dorm) (Info)

Johann Cyneheard

Heath Carta

Reagan Cyneheard

Allen Dallas

Qilin

Shen Yanque

Shi Canlong

Canon dorms

Heartslabyul: Eira Tsutsuji | Garnet Knightley | Howl Knightley

Savanaclaw: Nikostratos Florakis

Octavinelle: Cetus Larimar | Ianeira Mazarine

Scarabia: Sona

Pomefiore: Elias Wälzer

Ignihyde: Halcyon Lerna | Anthea Laverne

Diasomnia: Vhuthla Arania | Alexandra Oleander | Berahthraben Crowley

Other fandorms

Natalia Sidhe (Felidae)

Taffryn Dulcie (Dulcis)

Freyr Winther | Konoha (Glacirem)

Wei Luzhi (Shundain)

Samantha Donaghue (Stagrove)

Juno Gorizia (Tulgey Wood)

Dylan Mairi | Kazuma Momose (Zipangu)

Vulture 5: Shreya Kadenokoji | (Juhnglfang)

WNA OCs (@fools-of-wna)

Whimsical Orchestra Academy (wip)

Staff/Others

Dominic Trein

Amias Davis

Yesenia Dynas

Claude Avenant

Mairimashita Iruma-kun

Babyls

Andras Aria

Saleos Soleil

Gam Milena

OC Headcanons

OC Headcanons: Johnathan and Lovette

Ship Headcanons: Dominic/Catrina

Ship Headcanons: Dominic/Lucien

OC Fics

Nap Time (Leona and Gian)

Missed You, Bestie (Gian and Jay)

Nightmares (Stefano)

Lonely Puppet (Stefano’s backstory/flashback)

Wish Upon A Star (Natalia and Barnum)

Stay the Night (Gian and Cheshire)

Daisies (Stefano and Amora)

Criminal (Johnathan and Nathaniel)

Lead (Mordred and Kallistê)

Told You So (Emil/Sebek + Freyr)

Eel Socks (Unreasonable | Freyr/Floyd)

Starlight, Star bright (Spotlight | Stefano/Kalim) [Spotify 2020 Wrapped Writing Challenge]

Striking Gold (??? x Reader)

And the flowers bloom (Eira)

Hell of Heaven (Stefano, character study-ish)

Sleep Habits (Anson/Ace)

The Witch in Me (Kunaal)

[completeandrandomshit]

Linda Ronstadt Has Found Another Voice

The singer on living with Parkinson’s, the perils of stardom, and mourning what the border has become.

It’s been ten years since Linda Ronstadt, once the most highly paid woman in rock and roll, sang her last concert. In 2013, the world found out why: Parkinson’s disease had rendered her unable to sing, ending a musical career that had left an indelible mark on the classic-rock era and earned her ten Grammy Awards. Ronstadt’s earth-shaking voice and spunky stage presence jolted her to fame in the late sixties, and her renditions of “Different Drum” (with her early group, the Stone Poneys), “You’re No Good” (from her breakthrough album, “Heart Like a Wheel”), “Blue Bayou,” and “Desperado” helped define the California folk-rock sound. Along the way, two of her backup musicians left to form the Eagles.

But Ronstadt, now seventy-three, didn’t rest on her greatest hits, experimenting instead with a dizzying range of genres. In the eighties, she starred in Gilbert and Sullivan’s “The Pirates of Penzance” on Broadway, recorded a standards album with the veteran arranger Nelson Riddle, and released “Canciones de Mi Padre,” a collection of traditional Mexican songs, which became the best-selling non-English-language album in American history. The record also returned Ronstadt to her roots. Her grandfather was a Mexican bandleader, and her father had serenaded her mother with Mexican folk songs in a beautiful baritone. She grew up in Tucson, Arizona, close to the border—a place that has since become a political flashpoint.

A new documentary, “Linda Ronstadt: The Sound of My Voice,” directed by Rob Epstein and Jeffrey Friedman and opening September 6th, looks back on Ronstadt’s adventurous career. She spoke with The New Yorker twice by phone from her home in San Francisco. Our conversations have been edited and condensed.

What is your day-to-day life like these days?

Well, I lie down a lot, because I’m disabled. I do a lot of reading, but I’m starting to have trouble with my eyes, so that’s kind of a problem. It’s called getting old.

What are you reading right now?

I’m reading Thomas Mann, “The Magic Mountain.” I somehow got to be this age without having read Thomas Mann, and I’m trying to make up for it. I read “Buddenbrooks,” and I fell in love with his writing. His books are nice and long, so it takes a couple of days to get through them.

Who do you spend most of your time with?

My son lives here. My daughter comes over. I have really nice friends; they come over and hang out with me. It’s hard for me to get out. It’s hard for me to sit in a restaurant or sit up in a chair. It’s hard for me to stand around, so if there’s a situation where I’m liable to be caught in a doorway talking to somebody for five minutes, I tend to avoid that.

What kind of music do you listen to?

I love opera. It’s so terrible—I listen to it on YouTube. I’m an audiophile, but I’ve just gotten used to the convenience of being able to hear twenty-nine different performances of one role. I listen to other music, too. I found this Korean band that I thought was sort of interesting on Tiny Desk concerts, the NPR series. They get musicians to come in and play live in a really tiny little space behind a desk. It’s no show biz, just music. They have great stuff. They had Randy Newman. Natalia Lafourcade, who’s a Mexican artist that I love particularly. Whatever’s new. The Korean band I saw was called SsingSsing.

Is it like K-pop?

No, it’s based on Korean traditional singing. It was kind of like David Bowie bass and drums, and then this really wild South Korean traditional singing. It’s polytonal. It’s a different skill than we use, with more notes in it. And a lot of gender-crossing. It looked like I was seeing the future.

When you sing in your mind, what do you hear?

I can hear the song. I can hear what I would be doing with it. I can hear the accompaniment. Sometimes I don’t remember the words, so I have to look them up. It’s not usually my songs I’m singing. I don’t listen to my own stuff very much.

           I listen to Mexican radio—the local Banda station out of San Jose. I mostly listen to NPR. I don’t listen to mainstream radio anymore. I don’t know the acts and I don’t know the music. It doesn’t interest me, particularly. There are some good modern people. I like Sia. She’s a very original singer.

How do you cope with the frustration of not being able to do everything you want to do?

I’ve just accepted it. There’s absolutely nothing I can do. I have a form of Parkinsonism that doesn’t respond to standard Parkinson’s meds, so there’s no treatment for what I have. It’s called P.S.P.—Progressive Supranuclear Palsy. I just have to stay home a lot. The main attraction in San Francisco is the opera and the symphony, and I make an effort and go out, but I can only do it a few times a year. It makes me sick that I’m ever not in my seat when Michael Tilson Thomas raises his baton, because he’s such a good conductor, and I miss hearing orchestral music. My friends come over and play music, and that’s where I like it best, anyway: in the living room.

As you tell it, the first symptoms you noticed before you knew you had Parkinson’s were in your singing voice.

Yeah. I’d start to do something and it would start to take the note and then it would stop. What you can’t do with Parkinsonism is repetitive motions, and singing is a repetitive motion.

You broke onto the scene with such a powerhouse voice. What did it feel like, singing with that voice?

Well, I was trying to figure out how to sing! And trying to be heard over the electric instruments. I had no idea that I sang as loud as I did. I always thought I wasn’t singing loud enough, because in the early days there were no monitors. You couldn’t hear yourself.

In the documentary, you talk about growing up in Tucson, Arizona, and how culturally rich that was. How do the current politics around the border resonate with you?

They’re devastating. I feel filled with impotent rage. I grew up in the Sonoran Desert, and the Sonoran Desert is on both sides of the border. There’s a fence that runs through it now, but it’s still the same culture. The same food, the same clothes, the same traditional life of ranching and farming. I go down there a lot, and it’s so hard to get back across the border. It’s ridiculous. It used to be that you could go across the border and have lunch and visit friends and shop in the little shops there. There was a beautiful department store in the fifties and sixties. My parents had friends on both sides of the border. They were friends with the ranchers, and we went to all their parties and their baptisms and their weddings and their balls.

And now that’s gone. The stores are wiped out because they don’t get any trade from the United States anymore. There’s concertina wire on the Mexican side that the Americans put up. Animals are getting trapped in there. Children are getting cut on it. It’s completely unnecessary. In the meantime, you see people serenely skateboarding and girls with their rollerskates, kids playing in the park. And you think, We’re afraid of this? They’re just regular kids!

I spent time out in the desert when I was still healthy, working with a group of Samaritans who go to find people that are lost. You run into the Minute Men or the Border Patrol every five seconds. The border is fully militarized. You meet some guy stumbling through the desert trying to cross, and he’s dehydrated, his feet are full of thorns, cactus, then you see this Minute Man sitting with his cooler, with all of his water and food and beer, and his automatic weapon sitting on his lap, wearing full camouflage. It’s so cruel. People are coming to work. They’re coming to have a better life. You have to be pretty desperate to want to cross that desert.

You were talking about this back in 2013, when your memoir came out, before it became such a national wedge issue. Were people not paying enough attention before?

Well, they didn’t live close to the border. They’d just go back to chewing their cud about it. It wasn’t their problem. I lived at the border then. I lived in Tucson for ten years. I saw what was going on. Putting children in jail—that’s not new. That was going on in the Bush Administration. Barack Obama tried to get immigration reform and Congress wouldn’t allow it. So people have been caught in this web of suffering, dying in the desert. They’re incredibly brave and resourceful, the people who make it. A C.E.O. of a big company once told me—when I said, “What do you look for in hiring practices?”—she said, “I look for someone who’s dealt with a lot of adversity, because they usually make a good business person.” And I thought, You should hire every immigrant who comes across the border.

Why did you decide to move to San Francisco from Tucson?

My children were coming home repeating homophobic remarks they heard at school. And they’d also heard other things, like, “If you don’t go to church, you’re going to go to Hell.” I thought, You know, I don’t need that. So I moved back to San Francisco. I wanted them to have a sense of what a community was like where you could walk to school, walk to the market. More of an urban-village experience. In Tucson, I was driving in the car for forty-five minutes to get them to school and then forty-five minutes to get them back, in a hot car. I didn’t want that life for them.

I can tell that you have a real sense of mourning over what the border used to be.

People don’t realize that there’s Mexican, there’s American, and then there’s Mexican-American. They’re three different cultures, and they all influence eachother. And they all influence our culture profoundly. The cowboy suit that Roy Rogers would wear, with the yoke shirt and the pearl buttons and the bell-bottom frontier pants and the cowboy hat—those are all Mexican. We imported it. We eat burritos and tacos, and our music is influenced a lot by Mexican music. It goes back and forth across the border all the time.

How did growing up in that hybrid Mexican-American culture shape you as a musician?

I listened to a lot of Mexican music on the radio, and my dad had a really great collection of traditional Mexican music. It made it hard for me when I went to sing American pop music, because rock and roll is based on black church rhythms, and I wasn’t exposed to that as a kid. I could only sing what I’d heard. What I’d heard was Mexican music, Billie Holiday, and my brother singing boy soprano.

So what drew you to folk rock in the sixties?

I loved popular folk music like Peter, Paul and Mary. I loved the real traditional stuff, like the Carter family. I loved Bob Dylan. And I tried to copy what I could. When I heard the Byrds doing folk rock, I thought that was what I wanted to do.

How did your recording of “Different Drum” with the Stone Poneys in 1967 come about?

It was a song I found on a Greenbriar Boys record, and I thought it was a strong piece of material. I just liked the song. We worked it up as a kind of shuffle—it wasn’t very good with the guys playing guitar and mandolin. But the record company recognized that the song was strong, too, so they had me come back and record it with their musicians and their arrangement. And I was pretty shocked. I didn’t know how to sing it with that arrangement. But it turned out to be a hit.

Do you remember hearing it on the radio for the first time?

Yeah. We were on our way to a meeting at Capitol Records, in an old Dodge or something, and I was jammed in the back with our guitars. Then the engine froze, and the car made this horrible metal-on-metal shriek. We had to push it to the nearest gas station, half a block away. The man was looking at the car saying it’ll never run again, and we were saying, “What will we ever do in Los Angeles with no car?” And from the radio playing in the back of the garage we could hear the opening of “Different Drum.” We heard which radio station it was on, KRLA, so I knew it was a hit, if they played it on the L.A. stations.

What are your memories of the Troubadour, in West Hollywood?

That’s where you went to hang out. We would go to hear the local act that was playing, or there’d be someone like Hoyt Axton or Oscar Brown, Jr., or Odetta. Nobody was anything particular at the time. We were all aspiring musicians. The Dillards were there. The Byrds hung out there. And then it started to be people like Joni Mitchell, James Taylor. Carole King would play there. When Joni Mitchell played, she played two weeks. I think I saw every single night.

In your book, you talk about being with Janis Joplin there and trying to figure out what to wear onstage.

Oh, I never could figure out what to wear. I grew up wearing Levi’s and a T-shirt or a sweater and cowboy boots or sneakers. And that’s what I left home with, and that’s what I wound up with. In the summer we’d cut the legs off the Levi’s and they were Levi’s shorts. When I got my Cub Scout outfit, that was a real change for me.

You say that you and Janis Joplin couldn’t figure out how to fit in—you didn’t know whether to be earth mothers or whatever.

We didn’t know whether we were supposed to cook and sew and embroider. Roles were being redefined. There were a lot of earth-mama hippie girls who knew how to do that stuff.

There’s a clip in the documentary of you being interviewed in 1977, and you talk about how rock-and-roll stars become alienated and are surrounded by managers who are willing to indulge them, and that’s how people wind up with drug problems.

They got involved with drugs because they felt isolated. Stardom is isolating. There are a whole bunch of people that you’re hanging out with who are trying to become musicians. And some were chosen and some were not, and it becomes a difficult relationship with the people who weren’t chosen. Sometimes they’re resentful, sometimes you feel uncomfortable. It’s like Emmylou Harris has in a song: “Pieces of the sky were falling in your neighbor’s yard but not on you.” The adulation made people feel disconnected. I also think that some people’s brain chemistry is more vulnerable to addiction. I was lucky. Mine was not.

David Geffen says that you had an issue with diet pills.

I had no issue with that. I just took them when I needed them. I didn’t like it. If I ate, I’d have to take a diet pill. It wasn’t something I did for pleasure.

There’s been a lot of looking back this year at the summer of 1969, with these big anniversaries of the moon landing and Woodstock and the Manson murders. What do you remember about that summer?

When Woodstock happened, I was in New York. I remember getting all the reports from people like Henry Diltz and Crosby, Stills & Nash. They’d come back with stories of everybody being in the mud. It sounded like a good thing to have survived, but I’m glad I didn’t go up there. Overflowing toilets and no food is not my idea of a fun time. I was playing some club—probably the Bitter End.

When the Manson family came through, they managed to murder my next-door neighbor, Gary Hinman. I was lucky I wasn’t home that night—they may have come for me. We knew those girls, Linda Kasabian and maybe Leslie Van Houten, too. I lived in Topanga Canyon at the time, and they would hitchhike, and they would talk about this guy Charlie at the Spahn Ranch. But I didn’t know him personally. We knew it was kind of a bad scene. But, when we found out how bad of a scene it was, we were horrified.

People must have been really scared before they were captured.

Oh, everybody was freaked out. We weren’t sure at the time whether the Gary Hinman murder was connected to the other murders, but we found out soon enough.

The music of that era was so intertwined with politics. How do you feel that compares with popular music these days? Is music addressing political upheaval?

Oh, I think so. Especially hip-hop. But I wish there was a little bit more political activism. I’m waiting for the Reichstag to burn down, you know? Because I was interested in the Weimar Republic, I’ve always been aware that culture can be overwhelmed and subverted in a very short time. All of German intellectual history—Goethe and Beethoven—was subverted by the Nazis. It happened in a thirty-year span and brought German culture to its knees. And it’s happening here. There’s a real conspiracy of international fascism that wants to defeat democracy. They want all the power for themselves, and I think that suits Donald Trump right now. He’d like to be a dictator.

In going through your history, I’ve noticed you’ve been selectively outspoken. There’s an interview from 1983 where a talk-show host in Australia asks you about deciding to perform in South Africa under apartheid, and you give this speech about how if you didn’t play anywhere with racism you wouldn’t be able to play in the American South or Boston. You also take shots at Ronald Reagan and Rupert Murdoch. As a popular performer, was there a cost to speaking out?

I never talked onstage for about fifteen years. But there were certain causes that we as a musical community united against, and one of them was nuclear power. We did a lot of No Nukes concerts—James Taylor, me, Jackson Browne, Bonnie Raitt—and if it was a particular cause that I was in favor of. I did what I could to help, but I don’t think my focus was particularly political. If somebody asked, I was perfectly happy to give my opinion.

I also found a clip from 1995 where you confronted Robin Quivers, Howard Stern’s co-host, on the “Tonight Show” about her association with Stern. Do you remember what upset you so much?

Well, first of all, I never heard Howard Stern on the radio. I had no idea who he was. I didn’t have a television. I didn’t know who Robin Quivers was. But it had just been on the news that day, what he had said about—oh, the girl singer.

Selena? He said “Spanish people have the worst taste in music” and played her music with gunshots in the background.

Selena, yeah. And it just offended me. As a Mexican-American, it just offended me that he would say such a horrible thing about someone’s dead daughter. I didn’t realize that Howard Stern made a career out of making unfortunate remarks about other people. And I didn’t know what Robin Quivers was like. I didn’t know anything about it. I just went, “Hey, that really offended me.” It made me angry. I didn’t realize what kind of a hornets’ nest I’d stepped into.

Did you get any reaction from him after that?

Oh, yeah. He said horrible things about me.

Going back to your performing career, in the documentary, your former manager Peter Asher says that you would see people whispering at your concerts and imagine that they were saying, “She’s the worst singer I’ve ever heard.” Were you really that insecure?

I just didn’t feel like I could quite sing well enough. It was best when I forgot about everything and just thought about the music, but it took me a long time to get there. I didn’t want to see people that I knew in the audience. I didn’t like to see the audience, actually. I couldn’t understand why they’d come. It’s a different relationship than singers like Taylor Swift have. I think it’s a little bit healthier that they embrace their audience and sort of feel like everybody’s on the same team. We were encouraged in the sixties to think of us and them. The hippies started that whole tribal thing, and it was the straights against the hippies. It was unhealthy.

How did you overcome your self-doubt?

I’d just say, “Breathe and sing.” As long as I pulled my focus back to the music, I was fine.

Your relationship with Jerry Brown is covered in the documentary and in your book, but not your relationships with some other prominent people, like Jim Carrey and George Lucas. Is there a reason for that?

I was writing about the music. They didn’t have anything to do with my musical process.

What did Jerry Brown contribute to your musical process?

Well, he was there when Joe Papp [the founder of the Public Theatre and Shakespeare in the Park] called saying that they wanted me for “H.M.S. Pinafore.”. But Jerry [gave me the message] wrong—it was actually “The Pirates of Penzance,” which I didn’t know.

Do you keep in touch with him?

Yeah. We’re friends. We’ve always been friends. He came over last Christmas.

What do you talk about?

Water in California. He said when he retires he wants to study trees and California Indians. I gave him my tree book, “The Hidden Life of Trees.” There’s a new history of water use in California that’s fantastic. It’s called “The Dreamt Land.” It’s like John McPhee-level writing. It’s really worth it for the writing alone.

The press always made such a big deal about the fact that you never got married.

I didn’t need to get married. I’m not sure that anybody needs to get married. If they do, I’m on their side. But I never needed to get married. I had my own life.

I have to admit, I was born in the eighties and I discovered you through “The Muppet Show.” What can you tell me about working with Kermit?

I had a crush on Kermit, so it was a problem because of Miss Piggy. He was her property. But we had a really good time on that show. There’s something extraordinarily creative about puppeteers. They’re fascinating, because when they do all their acting, they can’t let it go through their own body. I think they’re just loaded with talent. I loved watching them. It was a very coöperative experience. They let me help them with the story and the songs.

What was your contribution to the story?

This crush that I had on Kermit, they developed into a little storyline where Miss Piggy and I have a confrontation.

She seems like a very formidable rival.

She was. She was nasty! She locked Kermit in a trunk.

Because you’re a singer but not a songwriter, so much of your artistic expression comes through your choice of material. How did you choose songs for “Heart Like a Wheel,” including the title song by Anna and Kate McGarrigle?

I was just ambushed by that song. I was riding with Jerry Jeff Walker in a cab, and he said, “I was at the Philadelphia Folk Festival and I heard these two girls singing—they were sisters. They sang a really good song. You should hear it.” He sang me the first verse—“Some say the heart is just like a wheel / When you bend it, you can’t mend it / But my love for you is like a sinking ship / And my heart is on that ship out in mid-ocean”—and I just thought they were the most beautiful lyrics I’d ever heard. I said, “You have to send me that song.” And I get this tape in the mail, reel to reel, with just piano and a cello and the two girls singing their beautiful harmonies. The manager I had at the time said it was too corny. Somebody said it would never be a hit. And I don’t think it was ever a radio single, but it was a huge song for me. I sang it all the way through my career.

Were you surprised by the songs from that album that became hits?

I was surprised anything of mine was successful, because it always seemed so hodge-podge. I just tried different songs that didn’t necessarily have anything to do with each other, but which expressed a real urgent feeling that I just had to express. “You’re No Good” was an afterthought. We needed to have an uptempo song to close the show with, and that was a song I knew from the radio.

What were the biggest challenges in becoming a public figure?

Not having the ability to observe other people, because people are observing you. I had to keep my head down all the time. It was kind of excruciating. I still feel that way. I don’t like to be on the spot. Also, relationships were hard, because I was always on the bus.

In an interview from 1977, you said, “I think men have generally treated me badly, and the idea of a war between the sexes is very real in our culture. In the media, women are built up with sex as a weapon and men are threatened by it as much as they are drawn to it, and they retaliate as hard as they can.” Do you remember what you were talking about?

No, I don’t! I have to say that when I look at my whole career, over all, what counted the most was whether you showed up and played the music. I saw it happen with Emmylou, and I saw it happen with Joni Mitchell. Joni Mitchell was threatening to everybody. She could play better. She could sing better. She looked better. She could just do it all. But it’s true, there was a certain amount of chauvinism.There weren’t a lot of girls in the business who were doing what I was doing, so my friendship with Emmylou Harris became so important.

Did you find that there were things that were harder for you as a woman than for your male contemporaries?

Well, I had to do makeup and hair. That’s a lot, because that’s two hours of the day that you could spend reading a book or learning a language or practicing guitar. Guys just shower and put on any old clothes. And then there were high heels. I have extra ankle bones in each foot, and high heels were agonizing. I used to wear them onstage, kick them off, hide my feet behind the monitors, and find my shoes again before I had to leave the stage.

At the height of your rock-and-roll fame, you decided to do Gilbert and Sullivan. What drew you to that?

My sister, when she was eleven and I was six, I guess, sang “H.M.S. Pinafore” in her junior high school. My mother had a book of Gilbert and Sullivan operettas on piano, and somehow I learned the songs. I heard my sister practicing them. So, when I heard of “The Pirates of Penzance,” I knew what Gilbert and Sullivan was.

Was part of you tired of being a rock star?

Part of me was very tired of it. I was singing loud in halls that didn’t sound like they were built for music. I liked the idea of a proscenium stage. I think a proscenium has a lot to do with focussing your attention. A theatre is a machine built to focus your attention and allow you to dream. You’re hypnotized, in a way, and the person onstage is your champion, is telling your story. You find emotions you didn’t realize you had.

Throughout the eighties, you experimented wildly with genre, everything from Puccini to the Great American Songbook to Mexican canciones. I’m sure your record label was surprised when you said, “I want to make an album of Mexican folk music.”

Well, before that, I wanted to do American standard songs, and they said, “No, it won’t work.” In fact, Joe Smith [the chairman of Elektra/Asylum Records] even came to my house to beg me not to do it. He said, “You’re throwing your career away.” I’d been away so long working on Broadway.

Were you worried that your fans wouldn’t go along with the standards, either?

I didn’t worry about it until after we made the record [“What’s New”] and we were opening at Radio City Music Hall. And I realized, all of a sudden, people might not show up. They really might hate it. I was ordering matzo-ball soup from the Carnegie Deli next door, and it gave me the shakes so bad that I could barely stand when I got onstage. I was holding hands with Nelson Riddle in the wings—he was nervous, too. He said, “Don’t let me down, baby.” I said, “I’ll do my best.” He was the best of those arrangers—worked with Rosemary Clooney and Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald. He wrote beautiful charts for me. I was really lucky to have him. I went back to my apartment that night and just smiled, because we had gotten away with an evening of American standard songs.

When I see something now like Lady Gaga recording a standards album with Tony Bennett, it seems like she owes you a debt.

Well, she owes me nothing. She’s got enough talent to make it on her own. But, up until then, attempts by female pop artists to go back and do standards had not been successful. And Joan Baez had tried to record in Spanish, and that didn’t work. It depends on what the audience is expecting of you. When I did Mexican songs, I brought in a whole new audience. I played the same venues, but it was grandmothers and grandchildren. People brought their kids. And the standards audience was older—they were in their fifties and sixties, which seemed impossibly old to me at the time.

Is it true that you recorded “Canciones de Mi Padre” at George Lucas’s recording studio, Skywalker Sound?

The second album, “Mas Canciones.” I chose it because they have a big scoring stage. It has good acoustics that you can tune with the wooden panels on the side. There was a lot of room ambience. Mariachi’s a folk orchestra, and it was a good orchestra sound. It’s hard to find.

You also collaborated with Emmylou Harris and Dolly Parton. Do you keep in touch with them?

Emmy comes out to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, which is a bluegrass festival here in San Francisco, so I see her about once a year. She comes over to my house. We used to sing together. Now she brings her laundry and we talk. When you’re on the road, you always have extra laundry.

Have you kept up with Dolly?

Emmy and I presented her an award recently, and I hadn’t seen her in a while. I don’t think she realized I’m as disabled as I am. She threw her arms around me, and I kept saying, “Dolly, watch out! You’re going to knock me down!” She thought I was kidding. I nearly fell down. I grabbed onto the podium that her award was on and knocked it to the ground. It was made out of glass and it broke. “Congratulations, here’s your award—smash! You get to take the pieces home.”

If you could wave a magic wand and record one more album, what would be on it?

It would be an eclectic mix. There’s a song called “I Still Have That Other Girl,” written by Elvis Costello and Burt Bacharach, that I always wanted to record. And there’s a Mexican song called “Paloma Negra” I always wanted to record. I’d record all those songs that I didn’t get around to.

THANKS TO MIHCAEL SCHULMAN AND NEWYORKER.COM FOR THE ARTICLE.

[hellholland]

A Queen and Her King || Tom Holland x Reader [Part 1][Gang/Assassin AU]

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is my very first action AU, so I apologize for things that seem oddly unrealistic in the crime world. I obviously don’t know much about it. If you have tips or feedback, please message/ask me about it! I created the idea for this fic through a song called Natalie by Bruno Mars, but I also want to credit @hollandroos​ for her fanfiction, Blow A Kiss, Fire A Gun. It was the very first Mob!Tom fanfiction I read (The first AU like that I’d ever read, actually.) and it still inspires me as I hope to continue this series. I hope for this to get better as it goes along. Just so you have the basic knowledge, this is kind of like a Mobster!AU meets Assassin!AU and a lot of wild crossover shit. 

TRIGGER WARNING: Violence, language, guns, knives, suggestive sexual actions, mentions of pedophilia (It’s not any more graphic, it might even be less, than basic horror movies you might’ve seen. The description is mostly about action, not in depth detail of what it looks like. It’s an assassin/gang/mafia AU, so it’s kind of fucked up anyway.)

DISCLAIMER: This story contains content that I am just writing for the sake of the story. I do not condone/support it. Your “character” as the reader, may also do things you personally would not do. Please don’t read if you can’t handle that. THIS DOES NOT ACCURATELY REPRESENT TOM, HIS MORALS OR ANYONE HE’S ASSOCIATED WITH. I’M MERELY USING HIS IMAGE AND A NAME TO CREATE THIS STORY. PLEASE DO NOT EVER TAKE THIS AS AN ACCURATE PORTRAYAL OF TOM. (This is more of a movie in my head, and a character Tom is playing)

I have trigger warnings at the scenes that should need them. Please let me know if there are other subjects that need warnings!

Prologue

As three shrill beeps replaced dialing noises, Tom’s anger skyrocketed. He began to pace and repeatedly clench his fists at an attempt to hold back everything he was feeling. 

 “We’re sorry, you’ve reached a number that is either disconnected or no longer linke-“ Tom spun around and threw the phone, sending it flying into his bedroom wall and crashing to the floor. “Goddamnit!” He sat down on the corner of his bed, staring out through the wall-to-wall glass pane that separated him from the rest of the world. The skyline was a vibrant dark blue, turning to purple and black. 

 Every  dollar in his safe he’d worked his ass off to get was gone. There was no trace, no logical reasoning as to how it got stolen. That safe was one of the most protected vaults in the world.

 Natalie, or Natalia as Tom used to call her endearingly, was gone too. 

Disappeared. No word, no warning. 

 Not only had she cheated on him, she robbed him.

 “Tom, what do you want to do to respond?” His best friend and co-leader Harrison asked, frustration clear in his voice.

 “I don’t fucking know. Nothing yet, we’re too vulnerable. We’ll...need alliances.”

 She took his heart out of his chest and walked all over it, puncturing it with her stiletto heels.

 He found out everything she’d done after she left. Of course the man was riddled with sadness and hurt, but the only feeling he let control him was anger.  

He couldn’t be weak. Not now, not ever. 

 After willingly letting her in and finally bringing his guard down, she wrecked him. You know what everyone says? That Natalie Rose Giovanni can never be overthrown. She’s notorious for the lives she takes and everything in between. That she’s untouchable. But in the end, the greatest revenge is going out and accomplishing what is said to be impossible. And that is exactly what he would do.

 This was personal now.

 Natalie, Europe’s top drug queenpin with a terrifying hidden past, versus Thomas Stanley Holland, the most notorious mafia leader in almost every corner of the northern eastern hemisphere. 

 She took everything he had, even some of his very best men.

 His team.

 His power. 

 His reputation. 

 His empire. 

Soon enough, he was going to take every single bit of it back, even if it meant ruining her fucking life. 

 Even if it meant killing her.          

One

“Hang on,” you giggle softly, looking up at the man in front of you. “Why don’t we go back to your room?” 

 His hands had made their way under your thighs and he had you up against a wall, giving him easy access to touch your body. “We’re not exactly in the most private area of the hotel.”

 “If it gets that dress off you, then that’s fine by me,” he replies, kissing down your neck.

 “Eugene!” You push his hands down and stand straight up, smiling coyly at the millionaire while listening for any instructions in your earpiece.

 “You’re doing good. Get the card to his room and be quick with this, (Y/N). This operation has some complications.” 

 “I’m just telling you how I really feel, Allison.” Of all the names Felix could pick for an undercover op, why choose such a plain one? 

 You slip your hand into his pocket, pulling out the key card and tucking it into your bra, all without breaking eye contact with him. “I’ll meet you there in ten,” you whisper in his ear, running a finger down his chest as you walked away.

 “Fucking pig,” you mutter to the man behind the earpiece, making quick time to the elevator.

“Right?” The man in question is Felix Sternberg, (Known as Judas by his “enemies”) one of the most elite proxy murder directors in the world, or at least the most famous among federal government organizations and operations that do things not commonly associated with the human moral code. (Murder, drug dealing, etc.) He’s one of your newest co-workers. The brains behind your newest weapons, technology and escapes. It’s possible that without him, you would’ve been in a supermax prison by now. 

The most intensely protected in the U.S filled with the worst kind of people imaginable.

 People like you.

 “What’s his deal again?” You ask, shaking your head away from the doubting thoughts that often plagued you. 

“Rape, robbery, embezzling, pedophilia, the usual.” Felix says nonchalantly.

 “God, I cannot wait to shower tonight, that’s disgusting...” 

 “You’re also technically a contract murderer for a living, so I don’t know if you’re one to judge, (Y/N).”

“But I’ve never done shit to kids or forced myself on a person. I only kill people who deserve it.” 

“That last part is debatable, but we’re moving on. Wait for the bellboy in the elevator to leave before going up.”

“Sounds good.” 

The red silk dress draped on your body was apart of the job, a request made by the contract. The person who hired you was actually his wife, Valerie Pence. She wasn’t much better than him when it came to money, but once she found out what he’d done, the decision was easy. There also might’ve been infidelity involved in her reasoning.

She’d informed you that the best way to get to him was probably seduction and that his favorite color was red. The combination of the two would make it easy to get him alone. She took you shopping for the dress herself, an odd way of saying thank you (other than money) for the favor. When you stepped out of the changing room to show her, she simply smiled, but her watering eyes displayed a different emotion.

“You look stunning. This’ll work.” You wonder what her thought process was with hiring you, how their relationship came to be and everything in between. Getting personally involved with clients was a beginner’s mistake, but in some cases it was incredibly hard not to even think about what happened between some duos.

“He’s gone, move fast.” Felix interrupts your recollection, snapping you back to your work.

Eventually, you end up in his room, only stopping for a minute to marvel at the lavish decor and to peek around. White silk sheets dressed the king sized bed, complimenting the other colors in the room. Dark reds, black and grey all combined to give the room a sensual and eerie feeling.

Eugene appears soon after, hastily moving toward you, lust in his eyes. “Hang on, let me just go get something ready okay?” You stopped him, one hand steady on his waist the other over his shoulder.

 “Alright...”

“I want you to wear this, though.” You found some questionable fabric, presumably left behind the last hotel-goer, and started to tie it around his eyes as a blindfold. “Now lay here,” you pushed him down on the bed, a little too roughly, but he didn’t question any of it. 

You enter the bathroom swiftly, the door clicking behind you. 

“Felix, where’s my stuff?” You whisper. 

“Underneath the sink. There’s a silenced pistol. The bag has a change of clothes in it and some sunglasses. Put your hair up, too. I have someone ready to tamper with the security footage, but just in case I want you to try and be very discreet and exit through the fire escape. No one should see since you’re on the back of the building. Your ride will be waiting to take you home.”

“Thanks.” You grab the bag and begin to undress, leaving only your satin gloves on. This replaced the fancy dress and heels with what you could only describe as an outfit straight off if 2015 grunge tumblr, doc martens and all. 

Not the worst, but not the best outfit choice.

“I have one more...treat for you you, Mr. Pence.” You call out through the door, smirking to yourself. 4 sets of handcuffed glistened in the bag, and a gag. 

“Thanks for leaving them in there Felix. Did you put her fingerprints on them?” 

“You’re sadistic, but yes. The police and FBI will likely arrest Kathryn and any of her employees. I planted stuff to lead them to the kids. You’re in the clear but you need to get a move on, even if that includes speeding up your ‘process’.”

Kathryn Moseby, a “friend” of the millionaire. She holds a position in congress. She’s also the ringleader of a pedophilic sex trafficking ring. 

“Like I said, he deserves my ‘process’. They all do. I’m doing the world a favor right now.”

“Whatever you say.” 

 You sigh, plucking the bag off the ground and walking back to the bedroom. “I hope you like your girls dominant, Eugene.” You quickly click the handcuff onto his hand and to the bed frame before he could even respond. His breathing started to become uneasy, but he nodded. 

 “It’s new...but I’ll try.” 

“You don’t have a choice.” You whisper, clicking the second handcuff shut. The other two might’ve been too loose, but they’d restrain him. “Final touches,” you smile, climbing into the bed and almost straddling him. He seems taken aback as you jerk the gag tightly to make sure it stays on. “We don’t want anyone to hear us, now do we?” He shakes his head nervously in response.

 As an extra precaution, you switch on the TV to a music station, turning the volume up just enough to mask loud conversations. “Alright Eugene. Let’s begin.” You pick up the pistol and a small knife, crawling on the bed.

You run your fingers along his chin, feeling less gross about touching him because of the fabric between you two.

“I fawt yoo changfed?” He tries to ask in reaction to feeling the gloves, barely audible or intelligible.

“Oh, I did.” You giggle, removing his mask.

[TW: Violence]

He’s shocked, confused, and now scared. His eyes take in your figure and then the gun in your hand. He starts to panic.

“You didn’t think I was gonna let you off easy, did you?” The knife from earlier now glints menacingly in the soft lighting. “I don’t normally do it this slowly, but you’re a special kind of messed up. We’re all fucked up, especially me, but you, you’re a rapist and a pedophile. A cheater. Kind of the scum of the earth.”

He still wasn’t processing his situation entirely, but his chest was rising and falling rapidly. 

He wasn’t screaming. 

He wasn’t begging.

 Yet. 

You jabbed the knife directly above his knee. Angling it towards the bone. This time, his entire body jerked and he started to yell, but the music drowned out his shouts.

“That was for every child and person you’ve ever touched.” You pulled it out, watching the tears stream from his eyes, then ripped past the buttons on his suit shirt. “And this is for Valerie.” 

You slowly carve the knife into his skin, toward the right side of his stomach. It was a number that you carved. 334. 

“I wonder who my 335th will be?” 

“Hey (Y/N), as much as I enjoy tuning your weird shit out and waiting for you, you need to be fast. Like now. We’re cutting our time too close.” 

“I got it.” You frown sarcastically at the pathetic, convulsing man beneath you. “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have to go.” You pull the knife away, wiping the blood off with your gloves. 

The red contrasts the starch white in a disgustingly satisfying way. You stand up, brandishing the pistol excitedly. His screams are becoming increasingly louder, and more annoying. 

Watching him writhe in pain and desperation filled you with a twisted sense of pride. You keep telling yourself that he deserves it to justify your actions, but there’s still that one ounce of innocence in you that rejects those thoughts. 

Then you remember Valerie’s voice on the other end of the phone when she called, tearfully begging for help. She sounded desperate and sad, not angry.

She just wanted him gone. 

Had she tried to divorce him, she might’ve been endangered. If she turned him in for his crimes, he’d send people after her. 

That’s all you need to get the job done.

“I’ll see you in hell.”

Bang.

Please leave feedback! I will gladly accept civil/kind worded constructive criticism. -Ciel

[hazelestelle]

24 & 129 for the book asks 🖤

24. a book on your nightstand

You know that it's "Trick" by Natalia Jaster. It's finally the weekend and I can't wait to start reading.

"The Burning White" by Brent Weeks is also there, and I'm about halfway through, but now I'm putting it on hold because you recommended "Trick" so much💜

129. a book with beautiful prose

Is it bad if I say that I don't really pay all that much attention to the writing style? As long as it's not riddled with errors etc, I don't care all that much.

I'm gonna say that I love the way Brent Weeks and Holly Black write though, and "Wintergirls" by Laurie Halse Anderson had really interesting prose.

[smokeybrand]

Smokey brand Movie Reviews: Bad Iliad

A friend of mine got into it about the various interpretations of the Medusa myth and it got me going about Greek Mythology. I love me some mythology but my first love was the Greek myths. They’re just so ridiculous and petty and tragic and fun. These things read like old timey comic books with the best villains and human heroes. Medusa a is one of my favorite characters and it’s all thanks to The Clash of the Titans. I saw that old movie way back when i was a wee sprout. It was during my Ray Harryhausen phase and fueled my love for claymation. His work, just like the original Clash, left a distinct impression on me and I've studied all things Greek myth since. When the remake was announced, i was pretty hyped but i never actually sat down to watch the whole thing all the way through, only bits and pieces. I missed it in theaters because the 3D transition ruined the movie and tainting the experience. When it was released to to home video, i skipped it because of all the bad word-of-mouth. Apparently, the remake is on Netflix so, after reminiscing about my love for the ancient myths, I've decided to actually watch this thing all the way through.

The Good

The look of this movie is outstanding. The sets, the costumes, the build of the world were all exceptional. You can tell they used every bit of that massive budget to do the original film justice. This thing s super easy on the eyes.

I really like the updated monster designs, specifically the Kraken and Medusa. Those Furies, then scorpions, and even the Pegasuses; All of them awesomely reinterpreted. The sheer scope of that climactic battle between Perseus and the Kraken was so f*cking epic and Medusa’s whole scene was beautifully tragic. I loved every bit of that sh*t. Also, Calibos was pretty okay in this thing, too. i prefer the old goat-like one but i ain’t mad at this version at all.

This cast is dumb stacked. Sam Worthington, Mads Mikkelson, Gemma Arterton, Liam Neeson, Ralph Fiennes, Luke Evans, Natalia Vodianova, and Kaya Scodelario all make an appearance. Even Nicholas Hoult is in this thing somewhere. Dope ensemble is dope and i enjoyed mostly everyone, specifically Mads and Neeson. These cats chewed all of the scenery whenever they were on screen.

I have to say, the pacing in this flick is pretty nimble. They got from scene to scene rather swiftly without losing too much story in between. I appreciated that as, i mean, this thing ain’t one for the intellectual. You aren’t puzzling on the underlying themes of this narrative any time soon so the fact that this flick gets you from set piece to set piece as briskly as possible, is a real positive.

The Bad

The editing in this thing is kind of terrible, man. It has a problem with that early 10s, shaky cam, jump cut nonsense that’s supposed to convey intensity but just f*cking obscures whatever is going on in the movie. Your movie can be as beautiful as the stars and your action set piece as epic as anything from Terminator 2, but if you can’t see any of it, what the f*ck is the point?

The writing in this thing is dumb as rocks. The changes made to the plot did not make for a better narrative and a lot of the dialogue is corny as f*ck. The original ain’t winning any awards for it’s narrative but it feels far more coherent than this version of the story.

Way too much exposition. This, i think, is a problem that stems from the pour writing. There isn’t any organic way to expound the necessary information outside of having f*cking Io explain literally everything. This movie constantly breaks the cardinal rule of film making by telling the audience everything instead of showing it to us.

The performances weren’t great but that, again, stems from the fact that the writing is so goddamn weak. It’s really, really, hard to get into this click when everything is so goddamn mundane. This is a movie about man fighting gods, riddled with massive creatures and tragic monsters. This thing should be mad epic but it feels so goddamn small.

Bro, the plot holes. They weren’t super egregious like other films, i didn’t feel insulted watching this sh*t, but it definitely left a bad taste in my mouth by the time the credits began to roll.

While i loved the fact that Ralph Fiennes is in this doing his Ralph Fiennes thing, the switch t make Hades the main antagonist and not Thetis effectively ruins the entire story. The best Greek myths are when the gods are just petty assholes toward each other and humans get caught in the crossfire. The original understood this and literally portrayed us a playthings to be manipulated with that pretty on the nose, clay figure imagery. This flick ain’t that and i think it suffers for it.

Kind of in the same vein, the lack of Calibos was very apparent. The decision to move away from him as the main foil to Perseus kind of f*cked up the flow of the story. I wasn’t mad at the change in how the character was represented but there should have been more, direct, interaction between Perseus and Calibos, like in the original. In that one, he felt like a force, like threat. In this one, dude is just fodder and scene filler. Missed opportunity, for sure.

The whole Prokopion subplot was entirely unnecessary. Why was this dude even in the movie? It’s an interesting idea, sure, but there wasn’t anywhere near enough time to explore or develop that aspect of the film. Save that sh*t for a sequel. It would probably make fir a much richer narrative that what we actually got.

A bald eagle, my dude? Word?

The Verdict

This is a bad movie, man. It’s not the worst thing I've ever seen but i can’t say i was continuously entertained. To be honest, i was bored fro probably the first ten or fifteen minutes. It’s really pretty, though, and has some dope ass effects. The Kraken climax and that Medusa set piece was gorgeous to see and i really like this cast but there is no substance to this film. None. The actual story is little more than a skeleton to hang big-budget, CG effects, on to it and that’s fine. I can get behind vapid nonsense from time to time. I mean, i actually like the first Bayformers movie before they got really insulting. I might be giving this thing a harder time than it deserves but that’s because I've seen this movie done better. I’ve seen this story told better. I’ve seen this film executed better and it was done thirty years before this one came out. The 1981 version of this click is superior in every way with the exception of effects. That’s it. If i had to choose between the two versions, I'd definitely watch that one first however, the 2010 remake isn’t that horrible. There is merit to this version of the narrative and it’s definitely one of the more beautiful films out there. If you have an hour and change left, I'd suggest checking out the Clash of the Titans remake.

[ao3feed-snape]

A Long List of Titles ( Mainly Just To Intimidate )

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/2yhNpn1

by foreverandaday_1

So a book 1 rewrite.

Hopefully a part of a series.

May write a prequal.

  'I regret to inform you that there has been an incident regarding the Potters, Lily and James Potter have died, murdered by the also ‘dead’ Dark Lord, he is, however, incapable of something as human as death.'

  Harry Potter was originally Hadrian Salazar Romanov-Lokison, and is brought back into the world he should be in.

  As you can tell, I am incapable of summaries, the first chapter is a lot better.

Words: 766, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of A Long List of Titles

Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Black Widow (Movie 2020)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: Multi

Characters: Harry Potter, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Andromeda Black Tonks, Black Family (Harry Potter), Harry Potter Characters, Peverell Family (Harry Potter), Salazar Slytherin, Loki (Marvel), Loki's Children (Marvel), Thor (Marvel), Odin (Marvel), Frigga | Freyja (Marvel), Jormungand (Marvel), Fenrir (Marvel), Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Weasley Family (Harry Potter), Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Bill Weasley, Severus Snape, Melina Vostokoff, Yelena Belova, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Alexei Shostakov | Alexi Shostakov

Relationships: Alexei Shostakov | Alexi Shostakov/Melina Vostokoff, Loki/Natasha Romanov, James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange, Andromeda Black Tonks/Ted Tonks, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks

Additional Tags: Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Natasha Romanov is Harry's mother, Natalia Romanova - Freeform, she is a princess, of russia, Asgard, and jotunheim, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Jotunn | Frost Giant, Wizarding World (Harry Potter), Muggles, Canon Rewrite, Fix-It of Sorts, Sane Voldemort (Harry Potter), Eventualy, Horcruxes, Parental Nagini (Harry Potter), to tom, errrrr, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Molly Weasley Bashing, Ron Weasley Bashing

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2yhNpn1