#You braved Time for me and so did I; may Soul keep us together forever now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flownintothesun · 1 year

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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐗 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 :

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── note: these are pieces of my private writing and are not meant to be used as memes/starters/etc. please do not like, reblog, or use in your own writing. that is stealing, and while we support pirates, we do not support writers thieving other writers. ♡

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You are so brave, and you don’t even know it.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "I truly believe that hope is what saves us all."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "Surely the human condition is to feel everything, as deeply you are able. There is darkness, yes. But there is such beauty in the light that I cannot bear to look away, no matter the cost."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You’re worth more than what you give to other people, you know.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I see that your strength is born from compassion, and I see, too, that your greatest fear is that you have not been compassionate enough.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── He would know her in a room otherwise empty and void, when darkness crept like shadows all around and both of them were, at last, reduced to their very souls. He did not love her for her light, nor for her darkness, but simply because she was, and he could not be himself without his love for her.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "Still, I dare hope."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "I have lived a thousand and one different lives from cover to cover. Each of them are an escape. And they are magic.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "The more you become their idea of you, the less of you there is.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Sometimes, storms can be beautiful, too.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── We fit together like two people trying not to fall in love.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "We, too, are blessed to be made of magic."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Tu es ma joie de vivre.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "It is true that everything casts a shadow. But in order to cast shadow, there must first be light.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “The right person will simply pull you closer and lay your fears to rest.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You deserve to have someone do nice things for you.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I want you exactly as you are. You are a beautiful and whole person."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Give it time. You can be beautiful and not be whole, broken and still substantial. You are not less because of the things that have befallen you. It is not fair that they have, and would that we could change the past. But we cannot, we must keep going into this uncertain adventure of life in hopes that we find others whose broken pieces fit pressed against our own.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You have so much goodness and kindness in your heart. Do not let them trade it away, for they will try.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I think...the only thing we can have control of, is the knowledge that we do not have control at all.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Whoever said that time heals all wounds has never experienced loss. And yet, it is only with time that we recreate ourselves and live again.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Anyone who dares to look can find reasons to doubt, and too, anyone searching may still have reasons yet to dream.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "Highs and lows, both octaves are still music."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Love does not need to be unconditional or forever for it to be real. It has its time, and in the moments we have it, it is truly beautiful. That stays with us, in pieces, always. I think...perhaps it gets lost, sometimes, buried beneath fear and fingernails dug in and praying for it not to go. We worry so much of what happens if, and what happens when, that we have no joy for what is right in front of us. I do believe in forevers, some smaller than others. The unconditionally is what is left behind as we traverse into a new moment. Unconditionally is the love that remains.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You can never play the song the same way twice. Humans are not metronomes. We feel, and by feeling we create, we become. If I asked you to play me Chopin’s Nocturne, it might sound sad. But if I told you to think of falling in love while you played, what might it sound like, then? Memories are terribly complex things. They may make us laugh, and then cry, to imagine in delight, and to mourn. Music is no different. Not really."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “There are no limits to one’s capability of love."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Shouldn’t your someone have a say in whether they love you, too?”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You are so much more than the sum of a moment.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "I play violin, and think too much about the stars."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Hope is the second greatest force in the world. Above which is only love."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You are my greatest adventure.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "I was not created of stardust and the universe’s intentions to be nothing."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "Little by little, you become...not what they thought you should be, but who you are.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "You do not have to shrink yourself in order to accommodate those around you. The world is quite a large place, you know. Others can endeavor to meet your needs as well as you meet theirs.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── He’s always been strong enough to smile. To say it’ll be okay. Because of course it will be. It’s never been a lie. The day starts anew tomorrow, and of course there’s another chance for everything to be beautiful. Life is like piano keys in that way...the highs and the lows, both sets of keys are needed to make music and he’s always known that. Always been okay with that. Oh, he sees the beauty in it all, even the brokenness, he swears he does.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── The softness with which something blossoms in Francis that had been left to die: a part of him that burns so brightly, so infinitely — the ability to love, and to be loved. It brings him to life, makes his chest feel too tight to contain his heart.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Muse is a rare thing, and that those who inspire it out of nowhere are the best kinds of people and should be treasured, in any little ways that can be managed.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "I find you missing from me in most moments, but the quiet ones perhaps most of all. I turn to tell you something I have learned, or something I have read, or turn to tell you nothing at all only to find that your absence fills me. I know I can never be what you need me to be, but you have become everything to me. And I...I want to be what I can never be for you. Not something in the dark, but something...someone that adores you in the light.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You don’t need to recite poetry to keep me.I’m already yours."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Sometimes, even when we don’t believe in fate, it believes in us. Make a wish.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I could,never find perfect words for the way that you love me. The way your lips chart out constellations. The way you make me want to be alive. The way the world will fall apart at your fingertips and still not be worthy of you.”

�� ✰ ⋆ ─── “You don’t always have to be the strong one. Nothing about this is all right, and neither are you. And that’s okay. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I suppose that it’s because there is beauty around me, always and I have been fortunate enough to see it, and to seek it out. What is my duty, if not to be a harbinger of light for my people, so that they can see beauty in this world as well? A candle in the window, at the very least. A reminder that they are not alone.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "They say that you find the brightest light in the darkness."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "Monsters are made, out of circumstance. Certainly, monsters can be unmade. Human nature is to change, like leaves of Autumn."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I would give everything I have to live in the world you have dreamed for us. I hope you know that I would.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I see you because the music sees you. Because when I look at you, I see music. Because it’s too simple to find a harmony, like walking down a street you’ve been down a hundred times, and catching up to someone you know you’re meant to be there with.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I deviated too much. I never...this is probably ridiculous,” he warns with a laugh. “I always felt as though music was a conversation. Certainly, I could play back Beethoven, Bach, Brahms, Chopin...but it didn’t add to the conversation. It didn’t say anything that hadn’t already been said. When they wrote their pieces, surely it must have come from their hearts, else the soul. No one is a replica of another person, so it stands to reason that what I had to say with my pieces was never the same as what they had first contributed.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Who are you really? Backstage, when the curtain is drawn over the performance, before they call you back for the inevitable encore. Who are you when you can breathe?

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── People exist, after all, to provide what little light they can in an otherwise dark world.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Love, when written by the poets is a collection of beautiful words on a page, arranged just so for the reader’s journey toward the depths of the heart.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “Run to me always, let me be your safe landing,”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “There could be nothing tragic about one’s ability to love. The tragedy is in the love that has nowhere to go.”

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “You’re safe, my love. You are right where you belong. You’re right where you belong, and you don’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to be near it. You can just be."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── "I never skip ahead to the end of the book. I find there’s far too much to tell in the beginning, and middle. If I skip to the end, I only know the outcome. I think that the best stories are the ones that surprise us."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Isn’t it what the moon asks of the sun as they rise and set, sharing a brief moment in the sky? Simply this: tell me that you love me, and that I am not alone. And so, they take turns — play the parts of sun and moon, reaching for each other in morning’s pastel sky — shining light as they can upon the other’s tender soul.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── Francis has based his entire existence around hope — for even in the darkest of his moments — that four-letter word has been a shining light to him — his hero-sword.

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I don’t think there is a place in this Earth where I do not love you."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── “I’ll tell you a secret. It’s okay to be afraid. It only means that it matters, not that the worst is going to happen."

⋆ ✰ ⋆ ─── I am whole here, I am loved, and I am divine.

#➤ 𝚅𝙸. 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂 ┊ francis devereaux.#please don't reblog

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akampana · 2 years

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“ look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel something for me."

“ don’t let this one go. he’s perfect for you. “

“ do you think that this, us… do you think it could ever… be something more? “

Either of these for Beditoria mayhaps? Feel free to choose!

(A/N) Went with the third one. :> Also, I've always wondered how it would be if the FSN Bedi made it to Chaldea, so I hope you don't mind that the plot of this one is based on that idea.

feelings never fade____________

Words: 1.5k

Characters: Bedivere | Saber, Artoria Pendragon | Saber

Ship: Beditoria

Tags: Pining, Love confessions

Bedivere never liked when others called him brave. ‘Twas supposed to be the highest compliment; an honor to a Knight of the Round Table such as himself, but the word had never sat right with him. To be called brave was to wear an ill-fitting glove: uncomfortable at best, perilous at worst. And while he trusted himself to take care in his conduct, there was no getting away from the unpleasantness he felt when being associated with the word.

A brave man’s heart did not startle. His diction did not waver. There was no retreat in his horizon, nor was there surrender. A brave man never slumped in posture. A brave man never lost his composure when faced by adversity. He did not stutter. His cheeks did not pale.

Especially when ‘adversity’ was confessing to the one he loved.

Time and time again, Bedivere had tried. The first time, the Round Table had merely consisted of her, Merlin, Kay, and himself. But then, she met Lancelot, and with their newest addition keeping them all busy, he pushed his feelings to the back of his mind, dismissing it as a mere passing fancy.

The second, she was already wearing the crown, slowly shaping Camelot into the kingdom they dreamed it could be. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that the shining castle they envisioned also contained a queen. His emotions scratched and scraped at his throat as he swallowed them. He faulted himself. No one should dare to hope of something that could not be.

Bedivere’s final attempt came at her deathbed, his mouth failing to muster any of the carefully prepared words he’d put together as he delayed tossing Excalibur to the lake.

He returned once, a lie on his lips instead of his confession.

He returned a second time, another disloyalty on his tongue instead of his confession.

Tears burned at his eyes, from grief, guilt, and the pressing demands of regret. He couldn’t prolong his king’s suffering for such a selfish act as voicing his unrequited love.

When he returned the third time, Excalibur was gone. And moments later, so was she.

He grew old knowing they were never going to meet again. His feelings would forever go unheard, except by the tree where she died, to which he had whispered his love for Arturia Pendragon til he, too, gave up the ghost.

It was nothing short of a miracle, this Chaldea.

He doubted he deserved to be resurrected alongside the others here. Merlin, Galahad, Gaheris, Gawain and even Kay…these were all faces he believed would exist only in the memories of a soul. Even Agravain was in attendance, and while Bedivere had always been wary of the man, he could not deny that for what may be the first time, it was pleasant to see him.

But there too, standing as perfectly poised and calm as usual, was his beloved king. She looked up at him with a smile like the sun that melted winter into spring, her green eyes so damnedly clear. It was at that moment he truly felt reborn, his heart beating heavily against his chest as a flush colored his face. Now. He had to tell her now. He’d missed his chance so many times back when they were alive, but now he had nothing to lose.

Bedivere was not a brave man.

…

Arturia’s third lease on life came with many realizations. Fortunately, her incarnations had done irreversible change to her soul, such that in this life she still remembered the events of the Holy Grail Wars she participated in, and everything those experiences taught her. It made this incarnation lighter, unburdened. It wasn’t even for a wish that she’d accepted Ritsuka’s summoning. She had no wishes to make anymore. Master had asked for her help, and she’d answered. It was as simple as that.

That Kay hugged her to his chest as she materialized was a mere bonus. She had no idea that she would have the chance to see him again, nor the chance to meet her nephews, who had all stood steadfast by her side til their bitter end. Surprisingly, there appeared Merlin, who in his own twisted way, had always been her ally.

And after some time, after using herself as a catalyst had brought about many failures, bathed in golden light stood the first knight she’d ever recruited, who’d observed her rule from start to finish, yet never wavered. Not even once.

When their eyes locked, it was like the world had come to a standstill, as if bowing to the magnitude of the moment between the blondes. Something inside her burst into flame like a hearth reignited, spreading sunny warmth across her skin. She couldn’t breathe, or maintain that practiced kingly facade of hers. Arturia did not think or move, even as the rest of her knights rushed out to greet the new arrival. She couldn’t even control the stupid smile that painted itself onto her face. How could she?

She’d suddenly gained a second purpose.

“Bedivere…” she called fondly, expression so soft she looked like a smitten maiden.

He knelt in front of her like he’d always done, taking her hand in his left instead of his prosthetic, and kissed her knuckles.

That day, the Knights of the Round Table bore witness to something that in the back of their minds they’d always suspected. In hindsight, they should have known. There was never, and there never would be, someone that mattered more to Bedivere than their dearest king.

After that, there was never a day the king was without her loyal knight. It was like there was a gravity between them, one so potent it demanded they cross paths at least once before the next dawn. And even though the pair never spoke of it, the Camelot knights knew something had changed between them; something that had been stubbornly kept at bay when they were alive, but now had been set free.

Because now, she was the ruler of a kingdom long lost, and he a knight of an order long perished. Their titles were no longer a barrier. They had no duties to uphold. What remained were feelings, which obstinately stood the test of time. All they needed was a little courage to face them.

“Bollocks,” cursed Kay, bearing witness to Bedivere’s fingers faltering before he locked them with his sister’s. She was gone right after, summoned for a mission Kay knew could be delayed.

He placed his hand on his friend’s shoulder, twirling him around till he could glare into the timid one’s blue eyes.

“Tell her, Bedi,” he urged, something like surrender swirling in his brown orbs, because Kay had known the longest. Because Bedivere had stayed when Kay hadn’t. Because if anyone in the whole world deserved her love, it was Bedi. Because he knew she’d be happy. Because–

“Please. Are you really going to let the chance pass?”

Bedivere gently shrugged him off. Kay could only hope he’d gotten through to him, because…because he feared someone unworthy would take her away. Many of his comrades were here. Who’s to say who came through next?

It was gravity again that brought Bedivere to the Command Room, eagerly awaiting his king’s return. There was something in his chest that swelled like a balloon with each enemy that she felled on the display, as if it could sense that her return drew ever nearer. His heart was beating like a drum, the tempo accelerating as the Rayshift began. Kay had been right. He couldn’t let this chance slip away.

Bedivere closed his eyes, knowing when he opened them he’d be faced with a task more intimidating than even the beasts he used to slay back in Britain.

But when she filled his vision, he wasn’t overcome by nerves as he usually was, nor out of breath. She approached, but he was calm, warmly smiling as she joined him in the corner of the room.

“Bedi–”

The knight swept her hand up for a kiss, but this time, he kept their fingers intertwined. Warmth spread from where they touched, all the way down to his toes. It felt like heaven looking into her eyes, seeing himself reflected in them. He wished he’d been this courageous sooner.

His hand clutching hers tighter, he steeled his resolve and asked, “ Do you think that this, us…do you think it could ever…be something more?”

Bedivere didn’t even care that he’d stuttered. He didn’t care that he wasn’t enunciating his feelings as clearly as he dreamt he would. He’d have more chances to show her he loved her, no matter what she answered. The knight loved her as long as he lived, he wasn’t going to stop, even if he had to do so from afar. But in the small chance she held the slightest bit of feelings for him, then–

Her fingers tightened around his. “I believe it’s always been…something more,” she admitted, her cheeks reddening in time with his. “I just wasn’t brave enough to acknowledge it.”

_______

heya! hope you don't mind this is so late.

The FGO Camelot Singularity is actually my favorite one, and IMO the HARDEST ONE HOLYFSHIT, but as much as I love Bedi over there, I've always sort of contemplated what happened to the FSN Bedivere, whose tiny bit of content started my Beditoria journey in the first place.

I wonder if he knows another version of him found her again. And that that other version loves her just the same.

-akampana

#oblivious idiots asks #akampana asks #beditoria #bedivere #fate #fgo #fate grand order #arturia pendragon #saber #artoria pendragon #arturia #my writing #fanfic #fate fanfic

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bakugosbratx · 3 years

Note

Hey there! I was wondering if you could write something about Bakugou finding out his really confident, independent s/o is really subby in bed 🥺 p.s.: your writing is absolutely amazing 🥺💕

NSFW 18+ Confidence - Dom! Bakugo x Confident Sub! Reader

WARNING: NSFW 18+ Content. All characters are 18+ and consenting. Spitting, bdsm, daddy kink, submission, cursing, sex, breeding, etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Thank you so much for your request. I’m happy you enjoy my writing. Sorry it took me forever to fulfill your request. I have been busy. I hope it meets to your standards. My request are open so send me any request y’all kinky brats may have 🖤

Words: 1,245

You and Bakugo have been dating for about three months now. The fact you and Bakugo even got together was a bit of a shocker for everyone. You are a very confident, independent woman who clearly did not need a man. This is one of the many things that made Bakugo attracted to you, but also it secretly intimidated him. Bakugo is a dominant man by nature and you not needing him like others did made him a bit insecure. Everyone admired your confidence - including Bakugo - but it didn't mean they always liked it.

You and Bakugo have not had sex yet because you made it clear that you wanted to be dating for a bit before jumping into anything sexual. Bakugo was totally understanding and never pressured you. He will always stop if you guys are going too far while making out or cuddling. If he is hard, he will go take care of it in private so he can enjoy his company with you. Bakugo may be rough around the edges, but he truly does like you. Even love you. So the Pro Hero was pleasantly surprised to come home from a mission to find you greeting him in lingerie.

"Welcome home," you greet your boyfriend with a passionate kiss as you wrap your arms around his neck, "how was your day?"

"Better now that you're dressed like that. What's the occasion?" Bakugo asked with a raised eyebrow and lust filled eyes trailing every inch of your body.

"Oh no occasion. Just wanted to have some fun with you tonight." You smirked.

"Are you sure? I am still fine with waiting-"

You shut Katsuki up with a peck on the lips before taking his hand and guiding him to his bedroom. You sat on the bed as Bakugo gently pushes you back as you both made out. His impatient hands trailed your body, feeling every curve and crevice your body posses.

Bakugo begins kissing your neck and gently nibbling on your ear. Your soft moans encourage him to keep going and let him know he's not hurting you. Bakugo trails down your body until the lingerie gets in his way.

"Tch. I need this off of you." Katsuki says in annoyance since it's stopping his plans. He begins aggressively taking off your lingerie to the point where is about to rip it.

"Don't you dare rip it, Katsuki! This is an expensive set!" You scold the eager ashy blonde.

"I'll buy you another one." Bakugo grumbles as he rips it off of you.

"Dammit, Katsuki! You didn't even try-"

"Shut up," Bakugo begins making out with you again, pausing to threaten you with an "or else."

You smirk as he pulls away.

"Then I guess you better make me shut up." You tease.

"Oh, I will. Right after I get this bra and panties off of your sexy body."

Katsuki was more gentle with taking off your bra and throwing it to the floor. He sucked on your exposed nipples, causing you to moan out sweet pleasures.

"Mm daddy, that feels so good." You moan in delight.

Bakugo looks up at you, letting your titty fall out of his mouth.

"What did you just call me?"

Your cheeks turned bright red and you frowned.

"I-I called you daddy. Do you not like it? I'm sorry if you don't-"

"I love it!" Bakugo interrupts, smirking. "You're a sub, aren't you?"

You nod, smiling.

"I am."

This is music to Bakugo's ears. His ego is being stroked to even higher levels than it usually is. Especially since he has such a confident, outgoing girlfriend. You enjoyed being submissive in the bedroom since you always have to be a strong woman to the public. It's nice to be catered to and not worry about putting on a brave face. Bakugo always loves being dominant so this is no issue to him.

"Damn right you are. You're daddy's little cum slut." Bakugo growls in your ear, making all the hairs on your body stand up. He continues on his mission to tear off your panties. You didn't even dare try to protest as the glare in his eyes told you not to. Your cheeks did go red as Bakugo felt the wet fabric before taking them off.

"Someone is a bit eager for my cock, aren't they?" Katsuki teased. You did not meet his condescending eyes as he stared at you. You feel his hand grip your chin so you are forced to meet Katsuki's crimson eyes.

"You always hold eye contact with me while I'm speaking to you, got that?" Bakugo threatens, his red orbs staring right into your soul. You nod, a bit intimidated and turned on. You feel a hard smack to your right outer thigh.

"Use your words."

"Yes daddy."

"Good girl. Now open your mouth."

You do as your told. Katsuki puts his thumb on your tongue to make sure it stays open and to keep a firm grip. He then proceeded to drop a single drop of his spit into your mouth. You loved the way it rolled down your tongue to the back of your throat.

"You like that, don't you?"

"Yes, daddy." You say to he best of your ability since Katsuki is still holding your mouth open. He chuckled at how you sounded.

"Yeah you do, dirty slut. Keep your eyes on me or else that pretty ass of yours will regret it." Bakugo orders.

"Yes sir."

Bakugo let's go of your mouth and back down to your legs. He opens your legs to reveal your soaked core. Your cheeks burn red and since you can't look away, Bakugo is quick to notice.

"Tch. You're soaked, little one. Don't worry, Daddy is going to fuck you so good that you will not be able to walk for weeks."

You didn't even have time to respond. Bakugo was already taking off his clothes and stroking his hard dick. You feel the tip of his hard flesh at the entrance of your wet walls. This man not only had a lot of length to him, he also has a nice girth to him. Your tight walls hug his cock as he thrust himself into you.

"Fuck," Katsuki moans, "you're so nice and tight, baby."

Katsuki continues to thrust his length in and out of you. He hits all the right spots and then some. You let out sweet moans in pleasure. Katsuki keeps mumbling curse words under his breath. He throws his head back in pleasure.

"You like all this cock deep inside you? Damn right you do. You’re taking it all like a good little cum slut.”

“Mm it feels so good daddy,” you moan as you’re about to reach another orgasm, “can I cum?”

“If you want to cum, you have to beg, princess.”

“Please daddy! Please! I need to cum.” You beg with tears brimming in your eyes as he continues to thrust harder.

“Aw, such a helpless little slut you are,” Katsuki coo’s condescendingly. “Go ahead and cum.”

You cum all over his dick, your voice reaching a higher pitch as you moan. Shortly after, Katsuki groans as he releases himself into you. He keeps his dick in for you for a moment before pulling out and grabbing a wash cloth to clean you up. Once he cleans you off, he passionately kisses your lips and helps you up to go cuddle.

©bakugosbratx

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vdlest · 3 years

Text

Definition of Heaven

Characters:

Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary:

You found out you were pregnant with Bucky's baby when the blip took place. You keep the baby and raised him by yourself. You have always believed that Bucky will come back to you and your son, Gabriel. Five years later, the Avengers won, Bucky came home to you and Gabriel.

Warning:

Fluff

For the past 5 years, it has always been just you, your son, Gabriel, and the rest of the Avengers like Nat and Steve. You found out you were pregnant with Bucky's child when the blip took place, and during that time, Bucky was in Wakanda and that's where he vanished in thin air just like everyone else who got snapped out because of the son of a bitch creature, Thanos.

It was Steve who told you that Bucky vanished as well, so you told him about your situation, about your pregnancy. He and Nat suggested that you stay with them in the compound to make sure your safe pregnancy and to help you as well throughout your journey to motherhood, which you happily agreed on. You stayed with them and they helped you a lot, they made your journey easier, however, the thought of Bucky is still in your mind and your heart. You always miss him, and you told yourself you'll always love him.

After nine months of nurturing and sheltering your baby inside you, you finally gave birth to a handsome healthy baby boy. When you saw your baby's blue eyes, you knew he got it from Bucky. You ended up naming him Gabriel, the name of your late grandfather who raised you after your parents died. Gabriel gave light to your darkness, not just to you but to everyone else like Nat and Steve. You did everything to raise him well, a strong and brave one, who's not afraid to do what is right and good. His first crawl, first step, first walk, first word, you witness them all, and you wished Bucky did too.

Five years later, Steve and Nat had a strong belief that they can actually bring everyone back but it's high-risk. With the help of the remaining avengers, Clint, Thor, Bruce, and the shrinking guy, Scott or he calls himself the Ant-man, they were able to retract all the infinity stones in the past, but like what was mentioned, it's high-risk. Nat risked her life to be able to get the soul stone. Losing her broke your heart, she's like a sister to you. But she's not the only avenger who fell, Tony Stark did too when he snapped his fingers to save everyone.

Despite the pain of losing two important people in your life, Bucky came home to you and your son. When he found out about Gabriel, he instantly kneeled in front of your son as he introduces himself as his father. You could still remember how Gabriel answered him, I know, I always see your picture on mom's locket. Then, your Gabriel opened his arms to give Bucky, his dad, a hug of a lifetime. You can't help but feel emotional while watching them meet each other. Bucky may not be able to see him for the past five years, you know, he would make it up to both of you, especially to Gabriel.

•••

The morning breeze embraces your body as you go out on your room's balcony to have your morning coffee. The two boys are still sleeping in the master's bedroom of the house that you and Bucky bought after the blip. Your view is the sun shining above the small village you are living in, just like how the sun shines on the world again after five years of darkness.

After Tony's funeral, everything happened so fast. You, Bucky, and Gabriel reunite as a family, just like everyone else did with theirs. Bucky did everything to make it up to you and Gabriel, he worked hard and you both finally had the means to move into your dream house and here you are now, living in the life you wanted for so long.

"Perfect view, isn't it?"

You turned around and saw Bucky about to join you on the balcony. He's wearing his white shirt and his favorite pajamas.

"Good morning," you greeted him, "I thought you are still asleep with Gabriel inside, I didn't want to wake you up. You two are like snoring machines," you joked.

He chuckled as he makes his way towards where you are standing.

You and Bucky were able to pick up where you left off everything before the blip. You two became inseparable after the blip, both of you are scared of losing one another again. You haven't talked about getting married yet but you are already happy and contented with the life you have right now, it's like you're living in heaven already beside your two angels.

As he comes closer to you, he grabs your mug and placed it on top of a table, afterwards, he put both of your hands around his neck and his hands are on your waist. You two almost look like dancing.

Being five years away from him was like living in hell, you always miss him and there were nights when you'll just cry yourself to sleep. But when Gabriel came into your life, you knew you had to be strong for both of you. You just silently hope that one day, Bucky will find his way home to you. And he did.

He stared at you, a smile on his face, "Did I ever say thank you to you?" he suddenly asked.

You frowned, "Thank you?" you chuckled, "For what?"

"For being the love of my life, for choosing me, for bringing Gabriel to our lives, for living this life with me," he put strands of hair at the back of your ear as he cups your cheeks, "Thank you for being so brave all these years. Thank you for not giving up on me. Thank you for loving me unconditionally," he said while staring at your eyes wistfully.

There he is again. Being sentimental about the time he lost and the time he could've been with you to support you.

He always feels so sorry for not being there for you when you found out that you're having a baby, for not being there when you're experiencing morning sickness, for not being by your side when you are screaming at the top of your lungs as you push Gabriel out of your womb. You understood his regrets but you have always believed that he may not be physically there, he is there with you, he's inside your heart.

"I could've been there for you when you found out that you're pre--"

You put your finger on top of his lips and shushed him, "Stop it, will you?" You removed your finger on his lips, moving your hands on both of his cheeks, "How many times do I have to tell you that you should stop saying those things? Bucky, we are here and you'll never lose us again. We'll never lose each other again," you vowed. "And you don't have to thank me for those reasons you mentioned because I did those things out of love, out of my love for you," you rested your forehead against his chin, "I did those things because I love you."

"And I love you too," he murmured, feeling his kiss on your forehead, "I love you and Gabriel more than my own life."

Bucky being a father to Gabriel is amazing. You could see his eagerness to make it up to him not just by giving him toys or any tangible things, but by giving him the attention, time, and love your son deserves. There were times you'd see him reading books about fatherhood and how to be a good father. You could really see his great effort to get to know fatherhood even more.

"Dad, Mom?"

You and Bucky slightly pulled away from each other as you both hear Gabriel behind the two of you.

"Hey, munchkin," you detach yourself from Bucky, as both of you make your way towards to doorframe where your son is standing in his pajamas. You and Bucky kneeled in front of your son, "Had a good sleep?" you asked him, fixing his messy brown hair.

"Yes, I had a good dream too!" Gabriel excitedly said, switching his eyes between you and Bucky.

Bucky pulled Gabriel in between the two of you, "Can you tell me and your mom about your dream?" he asked.

Gabriel nodded, still smiling from ear to ear, "I dreamed of seeing mommy in a beautiful white gown, and you're wearing a white suit, daddy," he said while excitement is still in his eyes. "I also saw Uncle Steve, Uncle Clint, Uncle Sam, Aunt Wanda, and the rest of your friends!" he added.

You and Bucky exchanged glances when you both heard what Gabriel's dream is about.

"What else did you see?" Bucky asked while his eyes are still looking at you.

"You and Mommy kissed," Gabriel continued then he sighed, "Then Daddy said he will take care of you forever, he will make you happy every single day."

You and Bucky kept on staring at each other while Gabriel is talking about his dream, that you two are getting married in his dream. The two of you haven't talked about getting married just yet, but Bucky already gave you his word and you have faith in him.

Gabriel went inside again to brush his teeth, leaving you and Bucky on the balcony again.

Bucky stood up and helped you next to stand up as well. He held both of your hands once you are both standing in front of each other.

"Our son's growing nonstop," Bucky reflected.

You nodded, "I know," you playfully pouted your lips, "Our baby is growing too fast."

"So what do you say about giving him a little sister or a little brother?" he teased you, then he planted a kiss on the back of your hand, "Or should we plan our wedding first?"

"Are you really sure this is what you want?" you asked him, your smile slowly fading away.

Bucky's brows furrowed, "What do you mean?" he seems puzzled. "What do you mean if I'm sure if this is what I want?" he added.

You took a deep breath, "Bucky, I just want to be sure you really want this whole thing, me as your wife, us as one family. Not that I don't trust you or I don't want you to, but I just want to make sure that I'm not forcing you to do this," you stuttered.

"Y/n, you're confusing me."

"Okay," you sighed, "Bucky, before the blip, we are together, right? It wasn't really our plan to have a baby, but it happened anyway. Gabriel is the biggest blessing for us, I just don't want you to think that you have an obligation to me, to marry me just because you have a baby with me. I want you to marry me for the right reason, not because I have your child." Your hand moved on top of his, "Bucky, I love you. You know that, right? But I don't want to pressure you into enteri--"

"Look, y/n," he said, stopping you from finishing your sentence, "I know this wasn't our original plan, this wasn't I had in my mind five years ago when I thought of us and our future, but I couldn't think of any best way of having a future with you. Before the blip, I kept on asking myself why I had to go through those pain all those years, and when I met you, I finally understood why. Those pain will bring me to you, my lightbringer. Now, I have more reason to let go of my past, I have you and Gabriel now. I have both of you as my family," he walked closer to you and cupped your face, "And don't think that I am marrying you as an obligation or what because it would be my pleasure and my honor to marry an amazing woman. I will marry you, not because you are the mother of my child but because I want you to be my wife, I want to see you every single time I wake up and before I go to sleep. I want to grow old with you and it may sound cliche as it is, it's true. I want to spend my life with you."

His words made your worries disappeared. His words made you believe that he's the guy who would make all your worries and doubts vanish in thin air.

"So I gonna ask you now," he let of your face and he removed his dog tags around his neck, "Will you marry me?"

It was a spontaneous proposal. He doesn't have a ring with him, but all he could offer and give you are his dog tags. It may not be the usual way of proposing to women, but you couldn't think of any best alternative for that one. Anyway, you like uniqueness.

You smiled at him, "Yes, I will marry you, James Buchanan Barnes."

Bucky pulled you towards him and kissed your forehead, "I love you," he said before kissing your lips next.

After he kissed you, he puts on his dog tags around your neck.

"I knew it will look more good on you," he said, staring at his dog tags on your neck.

You chuckled, "I love you, Bucky."

He pulled you towards him for a hug and you knew at that very moment, you have everything you'll ever gonna need in your life.

Having Bucky and your son, Gabriel by your side forever is your definition of heaven.

-v.dl

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel #bucky barnes fluff

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frenchie-sottises · 4 years

Text

ADDICT Animation Thoughts.

HEY, WANNA LEARN DRUGS?

This is me not having doing one of these review sort of things in a while. I’m kinda swallowed in the love for the newest animation for Hazbin Hotel, so I’mma do a review on it.

Yeah, I’m talking about the whole music video for the song “ADDICT”. Yes, it’s a song I freaking LOVE and will probably sing it to the ceilings for the rest of the week.

I actually had no clue there was an animation being produced for this song. I thought it was a good fan song and it was just gonna be left like that, but no, the person, and team, decided to make a video for it.

Okay, first off, can I just gush over how much I freaking love this thumbnail?? It’s done by Arielle Somerville, and even though this doesn’t have Cherri included, who takes up the second verse and I’ll talk about that in the minute, she definitely gets the message across that this video, and song, is mostly about Angel himself. I especially love the reflection on the pole, showing Valentino, who showed his face in the comic that’s supposed to be a prequel to the actual pilot. I also love the expression on Angel’s face. To me, it spells utter hatred for Valentino, and why shouldn’t he?

I’m sure most people who like Hazbin Hotel have seen this vid, so I don’t think I need to put a spoiler warning. Instead of explaining what happens in the video, I will break down the actual song and what comes to mind when I hear the lyrics and see the imagery.

Til death do us part, but we're already past that phase. This is a brand new start, and I think I deserve some praise

I will forever love this shot.

for the way that I am. Despite having overdosed, and ending up comatose.

I don't give a damn, I've let my emotions go- Fuck being a sober hoe.

The first verse is fairly clear about what happened to him before and after he died. Angel states with the whole “Till death, do us part” that now that he’s in Hell, he’s starting anew. He then further states that he should “deserve some praise” for the way he is despite the fact he “overdosed” and “ending up comatose”. While it IS confirmed that Angel died via PCP overdose, PCP can cause anything from organ shutdown (lungs and kidneys specifically) to seizures and coma. It’s not exactly clear what specifically killed him, but if I had to guess: organ shutdown. Specifically respiratory arrest since the oxygen is crucial for sustaining the brain.

He then, like typical Angel Dust, sings about not giving a damn, which makes sense since cause, y’know, it’s Angel. He claims to have let his emotions go and “fuck being a sober hoe.” PCP is.. odd when it comes to the psychological effects of it. PCP can block NMDA receptors, which are responsible for pain sensations, memory function, learning, and yes, even emotions. However, it can also cause anything from euphoria and calmness to anxiety and violence depending on how much is taken and who is using it. I’m not an expert, so I don’t know what’s specifically causing such contradicting results. (If someone does know PCP back to front, I’m giving you the shot to put your two cents in.)

This is the mantra, this is my life you're playing with now til the end of the night. Surrounded by fire, the passion ignites, a hit of that heaven and hell, a helluva high!

We then hit the bridge. Angel walks towards the moth in the thumbnail named “Valentino”, and yes, I got plenty to say about him later, and tells him he’s playing with Angel’s life “til the end of the night.” I don’t exactly know what he means by this since Valentino is Angel’s boss and we all know it’s not some one-time thing. He then sings about being “surrounded by fire” as “the passion ignites” and “a hit of that heaven and hell.” Heaven and Hell, huh? I believe he, himself, knows of its effects. (I’m not calling him stupid/oblivious, but sometimes the effects of these sort of drugs tend to be underestimated when it comes to what they can actually do.)

I'm addicted to the madness. This hotel is my Atlantis. We're forever gonna have a fucking reason to sin. Let me leave my soul to burn and I'll be breathing it in. I'm addicted to the feeling. Getting higher than the ceiling. And we're never gonna want this fucking feeling to end. Just concede and give in to your inner demons again.

Angel, along with Cherri, sings about how he’s “addicted to the madness.” I mean, he did have a casual conversation while happily killing Sir Pentious’s minions. He then makes a reference to the lost city of Atlantis, a city that was said to be inhabited by people who were half-man/half-god and created a utopian civilization.. basically the hotel is an “oasis” of sorts to flee from his current situation. Of course, being in a place called Hell, he states how there will always be a reason to sin and that he’ll leave his soul to burn and breathe it in. I mean, it’s Hell, you can’t fault him for thinking that, and, if you know a thing or two about Hell, once you’re there, have fun getting out, so you might as well leave your soul to burn and breathe it in. Of course, Hell is a lot uglier than this, but we’re talking fictional characters here, so there’s gonna be some rule bending.

He then repeats the first line of the chorus, but it’s slightly altered. He’s “addicted to the feeling” and “getting higher than the ceiling”, which is probably referring to the drugs again cause, well, you know. Of course, like how drug abusers become drug abusers, he doesn’t want this “feeling to end”, so he takes more angel dust to keep this feeling going. He then says to “concede and give in to your inner demons again.” Concede means to “admit after resisting or denying”, so Angel, at some point, was resisting, or denying, the situation he was in, but after either fighting it/denying it for so long, before or after death, he accepted that he’s fucked up and gave in to his inner demons.

I also love this shot.

After a few seconds of awesome music, Cherri gets her time to shine.

Yeah you fell in love, but you fell deeper in this pit. While death rains from above, so count your blessings cause this is it.

You're not letting it go, so what if I misbehave? It's what everybody craves.

You already know, so come if you're feeling brave, and fancy yourself a mate.

Cherri seems to have suffered an abusive relationship before as she seems to use past tense for whoever she’s referring to. "Yeah, you fell in love, but you fell deeper in this pit.” Whatever it was, it’s not something that can be made up for. She then says “While death rains from above, so count your blessings cause this is it.” I don’t exactly know what she means by this. Technically, they’re both dead and in Hell, so I don’t think whoever this man is has had his soul destroyed.. mainly because of what she says later. However, as death does what death does best, she’s telling him to count his blessings as this is it. I don’t know what she means as we don’t actually know that much about Cherri to begin with, so it’s more of a hit or miss kind of game in this playing field. She doesn’t seem to have any grudges against him, or at least doesn’t act like she does. I know somewhere down the line that our “protagonists” will have to face their problems, but I’m not sure what Cherri has in store for a man she seemingly got over.

However, it may be over for her, but she states that it isn’t for him by telling him that he’s “not letting it go.” She continues by asking “so what if I misbehave?” and then following that up with “It’s what everybody craves.” She makes it seem like he couldn’t handle her overly energetic attitude. It may also suggest that Cherri, along with her use of bombs and how much she seems to love blowing up shit, may be emotionally unstable. While yes, she may be kind and friendly to Angel, but he’s just a friend, I don’t think he’s anything more.

It doesn’t stop there though, whatever it is, she tells him he already knows, so come if he’s feeling brave and fancy himself a mate. Mate is often referring to a lover, but could also mean friend or someone for a one-night stand. Again, since we don’t know much about her, these lines could mean anything.

You want it? I got it! See what you like? We could have it all by the end of the night! Your money and power.. my sinful delight! A hit of that heaven and hell, a helluva high!

The bridge doesn’t do much in terms of explaining what’s happened to Cherri. While yes, it’s definitely explaining something, we don’t know what that something is. We can only guess at the moment.

Cherri tells whoever this man is that if he wants it, she’s got it. She then teases him with “See what you like? We could have it all by the end of the night!” The whole “end of the night” has now been said on both sides. It could mean about the similar situations between them. Heck, it might be why they’re friends to begin with. Nothing brings people together more than having similar experiences.

Then, and I don’t know if this is me, Cherri’s voice seems to tone down slightly when saying, “Your money and power” before kicking it back up with her smiling and saying, “my sinful delight!” The animation may support this as everything tones down, except the music, as if she’s reminiscing. She then follows it up with the line that leads into the chorus. As far as I know, she isn’t taking drugs, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be addicted to certain habits. *cough, cough* Blowing shit up. *cough, cough*

We then hit the chorus again. The chorus before introduced Cherri into the video, but now it’s being sung by both on the same stage and in the same building: the same one Cherri decides to blow up as they both sing about their respective situations. There isn’t much to this other than the fact that it feels more of a wrap up on explaining their current states.

Of course, those who have listened to the VIP version knows there was an extra verse sung by Angel, which was included at the end of the video.

I'm addicted to the sorrow when the buzz ends by tomorrow. There's another rush of poison flowing into my veins, giving me a dose of pleasure that resides by the pain.

I'm addicted, I'm dependent. Looking awesome, feeling helpless. And I know I'm raising Cain by every highway in hell. Maybe things won't be so terrible inside this hotel.

I.. don’t know where to begin with this. I had to go back several times because there’s just so much detail in every scene. Everything from seeing Travis getting kicked in the face to the cigarette that Angel threw in the ash tray looking like a heart.

I think I’ll start with what I think might be going on.

Angel, more than likely, is still in an abusive relationship with Valentino, who I will ramble about in a few. I’ve seen a few who’ve said that he isn’t, but I don’t think he managed to break it just like that. He is the one who told the audience to give in to their inner demons after all.

As far as Cherri goes? She’s become an addict to her own habit of blowing stuff up for fun. While yes, she’s seen blowing stuff up that is about/for Valentino, with a habit that’s become an addiction, I don’t think it’s gonna be very specific.

Of course, I could be very wrong about Cherri. She is seen blowing up a sign that literally says “ADDICT.”

So maybe she has broken an addiction of hers and is stronger than I give her credit for. Maybe that’s also why she’s coming to the hotel, cause she also said the hotel is her Atlantis, so it’s probably a hint that she’s gonna be added later.

Speaking of Cherri...

I love her solely for this.

While they aren’t exactly ideal people, they are, almost, ideal friends. Whenever one struggles, the other comes to help. Angel helped Cherri fight off Pentious while Cherri is here comforting Angel as he goes through his abusive relationship with Valentino. (She also helps with, again, blowing up anything that belongs/is for Valentino. Ridding imagery of an abuser will bring some ease to the victim’s life.) I say “almost” as they don’t go about it in the tamest of ways.. though I understand why people would come to defend what Cherri did. If nothing stops them from fighting and taking land, then nothing would stop Cherri blowing up a billboard or two, especially if it’s Valentino.

I think it’s time I’ve rambled about Valentino and the relationship he and Angel have, SO HUGE WARNING, this is gonna mention sexual assault/rape.

Valentino... I know I’m right when I say that just about everyone in the Hazbin Hotel fandom absolutely hates this fucker.

I can’t tell you how many people have made jokes about it already. Who wouldn’t hate him? I can tell you right here, right now, that moths, because he’s a moth, are my favorite insects. They’re fluffy, amazing to look at, and can make for some nice character designs. However, I have not once found myself being fond of Valentino. He has a great design, but that’s about it. He may not be real, but I’d strangle him too for not respecting Angel’s boundaries.

who

the fuck

aRE YOU

TO DO THIS??

My god, it doesn’t even stop here. This was pretty tame. I have a feeling not many know what was actually shown in the mirror when Angel was in his room.

Yeah, I don’t need to tell ya. I mean, I hope that’s not what’s happening, but Valentino IS one of many of the overlords of Hell, so who knows how twisted he is. It looks like he’s just holding him in place and just glaring at him through the mirror as he probably monologues about some bull about Angel being his and whatnot, but this is Hell and tame can just go out the window.. that and Valentino is literally fucking drooling.

As a final note, I’m pretty hyped for whatever Vivzie and her crew have in store for this series. I’ve seen the pilot, I’ve read the comic, and now I’ve seen the music video, all have been great.

I can’t really guess on where Vivzie’s gonna go with this whole story. I’ve always learned that Hell is an inescapable place, so I’d expect that Hazbin Hotel will be about Charlie hoping to rehabilitate people to go to Heaven only to find out that there’s no way out. Maybe it’ll be about how Hell doesn’t have to be some horrible place for nothing but pain, but a place to finally try and fix your problems so they don’t control you in the afterlife.

However, Hell has one issue: the overpopulation and extermination. It’s why Charlie opened up the hotel to begin with, so maybe the plot is far more clear cut. It is a fictional world. Technically the Hell most people think of is nothing really like this. It’s just an eternal fire pit where you’ll suffer physical pain over and over. However, Vivzie’s take on it is far more abstract. It seems Hell is where you’re put into situations you wouldn’t want to be in. Angel seems to want love and have fun, but is instead stuck with someone abusive and what he finds fun has been turned into work, both of which he hates.

In the end, I’m really loving Hazbin Hotel’s story as a whole. I love the fact Angel got some more depth to him. I’m looking forward to what’s in store for Cherri and the others.

P.S.: You wanna know the irony to this? I love moths, but most spiders I hate. However, I’m here hating Valentino, a moth, while having a fondness for Angel, a spider.

I’ve never had something like this happen to me before and it’s one of many reason why I love Hazbin Hotel.

#Frenchie Rambles #Hazbin Hotel #Angel Dust #Cherri Bomb #Valentino #Frenchie Screenies

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its-sixxers · 3 years

Text

A Sweet Embrace

VTMtober Day 2 Prompt. The life - and death - of Casimir Savatier.

At twenty, in the year 1755, Casimir Savatier had drank his fill of the world and found it wanting.

Since he’d been torn from his mother’s skirts he’d sailed the sea - seen the Isles, the Mediterranean, the northern shores of Africa. The secret places of each he had seen, too, places as withdrawn as he, as unassuming. Casimir laid his hands on relics ancient and occult, and they had given him riches in turn. The ire of the Church was a small price to pay, for he was captain of his own ship and his own destiny. They did not call him corbeau for nothing, for he flew wherever the wind carried him.

Knowledge, coin, success, women - he had it all, but as he stumbled out of Calais’ premier brothel drunk on wine and pleasure the night air felt like a slap in the face. Another night, another dance, the same routine every time his feet alighted on land. A distraction from the knowledge that washed over him in the cool night air. Something was missing, and for a man whose greatest talent was finding that which was hidden he found himself unable to discover it.

He stumbled down the cobblestone streets to the harbor, sea air filling his lungs. The moon was full, waters placid, reflecting her in all her glory - and somewhere at port lay his ship, his quarters, his home. All was silent, dockworkers long since retired to their beds, and Casimir was eager to do the same until a clear high note broke through the darkness.

The sound was beautiful enough to make him stumble. A woman’s voice - an angel��s - singing a hymn of a lost soul welcomed to Paradise. Casimir whirled about, trying to seek out the cause of the sound, still tasting wine on his breath, but the song seemed to surround him, to run through the air and fill his lungs.

In his drunken haze he returned to his quarters and passed out upon his bed, the voice singing him to his rest. When he awoke the next morning even the worst hangover of his life could not erase it from his memory. A drunken hallucination, he told himself, but when he set sail and watched the port fade into the distance he found himself singing the same hymn under his breath.

It was months before he returned to Calais again, a relic from an obsidian temple in an island off the coast of Portugal in hand. It thrummed with energy, its buyers met under cover of darkness on the pebbled beach below the docks, and when Casimir walked into a tavern to begin his usual dance of shore leave anew a business contact warned him that the Church had blades seeking his throat. It was best to leave until he’d faded from memory, and a plan was drawn for a delivery to the New World. It would be years before his return - but the New World was a place Casimir hadn’t yet seen, and perhaps it would hold the key to the void in his chest.

When he made his journey from tavern to brothel, deep within his cups, there was no moon in the sky, darkness complete. Turning down a narrow alley, he kept his hand on the grip of his flintlock and used the other to guide himself through the inky night.

Again, a woman’s voice cut through the night air singing a hymn - Casimir wondered if he’d hallucinated it, but it carried on - a whisper, and this time he could pinpoint its origin. Behind him.

He turned around, trying to seek out a form in the gloom. “Who are you?” he barked into the darkness.

The song stopped, then, gentle as summer rain; “A friend.”

Casimir barked laughter. “I have no friends. Merely business partners.”

“I know.” she answered softly. “You walk these streets alone. Your company is bought. You are lost, drifting like foam on the sea.”

He swayed on the spot - the voice was like a caress on his skin, and he walked forward with arm outstretched, seeking out the woman who spoke to him thus - who saw him thus.

“Please.” she murmured. “If you saw me you would not understand, would not see the truth in what I say. I beg of you - stop on this path you follow. What you seek is not in the bottom of a cup or coin purse.”

An angel, he thought to himself - be not afraid, they said, when speaking with mortal man. “What do I seek?”

“Purpose.” she answered. “Purpose beyond that of fetching trinkets for evil men and the idle rich. You seek something greater - to be part of a whole, to see something planted by your hands grow.”

Casimir stood still in the dark, eyes wide. “What must I do?”

“That is for you to decide.” Something skittered in the alley, then; “I must go.”

“Wait -” he cast his hand out into the darkness, reaching for her. “- please. Are you angel, or woman? If you are of flesh, I would…” he trailed off, unable to voice his heart’s desire.

“I am neither.” she whispered, pained - and then the air seemed to shift imperceptibly. In that moment he knew he was alone in the dark once more.

The next evening he hammered on the door of every alehouse, every brothel, seeking out the woman who he had spoken with - Casimir had something he wished to find, and for all the coin and power he had he would find her.

Each establishment either laughed him out or gave a sad admission that they knew not of who he spoke - so desperate was he that he even walked through the doors of the Église Notre-Dame, raving about his angel. The priests treated him more gently than others - they knew not who he was - but they believed he’d received a warning, to save himself before his spirit was damned for eternity.

The Lord did nothing for his mother, sweetest being he ever knew, and so Casimir embraced damnation - but death now that he knew there was an answer to the hollowness he felt was unbearable. He had only a few weeks before he departed to the New World, and his angel would be lost to him forever.

Each night he wandered the harbor, singing the same hymn - desperate to lure her out, to even hear her voice once more. On the seventh night he changed tactics, singing a love song - and on the seventh night, she answered him.

It wasn’t on the docks. Casimir laid in his bed in his galley, the windows thrown open to let the fresh air and moonlight in. Sleep had nearly claimed him, when he heard her voice.

“Who do you sing to?”

Casimir bolted upright, then recalled her previous words - to rush to the window would frighten her. “You.”

“I am not what you seek.”

“Yet I can’t get you out of my mind.” he replied. “You… you said I was lost. I have no one. I thought I needed no one, but you… you’ve seen me. Please - if you are no spirit, I would speak with you.”

“Speak?” It shocked the woman, he could hear it in her voice - and then it softened, quieted, as if trying to make sure none would overhear. “... you are content to merely speak?”

“Yes.” he breathed, a smile breaking out over his face. “I know not who you are, what you are, but I would hear what you have to say regardless. You’re different from anything.”

“You are a man who makes deals.” The woman said, cautiously. “I will make you a deal. I will tell you whatever you ask of me, so long as you never see me or ask how I appear or what I am. And… you tell me what I ask of you.”

“Done.” It was the easiest deal of his life. “Then I would ask you this, first - what is your name?”

A pause, then, as if it was foreign to her lips; “Elaine.”

Every night they spoke, he in his quarters and she somewhere near the window - he wondered if she lingered on the deck above, and marvelled at how she’d snuck aboard. They spoke of all things - she adored tales of his travels, and he listened to her knowledge of history. How a woman was so learned was beyond his understanding, but Elaine was a creature beyond anything he knew. Sometimes they exchanged songs - she knew mostly hymns, or melodies so old the language itself wasn’t quite the one he knew. He fast learned that bawdy songs would make her quiet or displeased, but sea shanties were beloved - sometimes he swore he could hear her weep when he sang of the sun glimmering on the waves, of the deep blue expanse, water and sky.

Once he laid flowers he’d gathered in the day at his windowsill, and awoke to find them gone.

Casimir no longer wanted to flee to the New World - he wanted to stay, to brave whatever accusations of heresy the Church would throw at him, if only to have another night to speak with her. His crew noted his lack of sleep, the dark circles around his eyes, and some murmured he’d become enraptured with some siren.

Yet sirens led men to their doom. Elaine gave him life.

Time marched on, and the days before his departure grew short. One night he couldn’t keep himself from weeping, and he could hear longing in her voice when she spoke.

“You are to leave soon.”

“Yes.” he answered thickly, wiping at his eyes. “I don’t know if I’ll return. It may be years.” Then, a thought. “Come with me.”

A long pause. “I cannot.”

Casimir walked to the window, gripping the sill in his hands. “Please.” he begged. “I can’t go back to a life without this. I know so little about you - I want to be able to fill pages upon pages. You speak of a desire to see what I’ve seen - we can both see the New World together. Perhaps… perhaps we can each find what we’re looking for.”

“I know what I desire.” she murmured in reply - from her voice he knew she, too, was weeping. “To resist is a test of my faith. I cannot, Casimir, I cannot, not without damning us both.”

“To hell with damnation. Life is damnation, if I continue it as I have.” Casimir extended his hand out of the window. “Please, Elaine.”

Another long pause, then, “Close your eyes.”

Casimir did as commanded, then felt something cold and leathery slip into his palm. He shuddered, the breeze suddenly carrying with it the stench of rot. Instinct screamed at him to run, to flee. Still, he kept his eyes squeezed shut - if this was a test, he would pass it.

“This is all I can give you.” Elaine spoke, voice quivering - he was aware of something metal being pressed into his hand. “Hold it and remember me - hold it and remember purpose. Do not speak so lightly of damnation, love - treasure your soul as I do.”

The leathery feeling disappeared, and Casimir opened his eyes to see a silver cross on a chain in his palm. Gingerly he drew his hand to his chest, staring down at it in the light - it was old, centuries old, and he wondered how Elaine had found such a thing.

“I will remember.” he promised to the night. “I will return, for you.”

“Until we meet again.”

“Goodbye, my love.”

He found blood on the deck in the morning.

Months on the sea - Casimir cared not for it. Where once the voyage would make his heart soar, now he could only stare at the cross that now hung around his neck, could only tilt it and see how it caught the sunlight.

They came to the New World at night, the lights of the colonies twinkling on the horizon, and to his despair Casimir found it much the same as the Old World. The same buildings, if simpler, the same people, if rougher. Two years, and he could return. He watched his ship disappear on the edge of the sky, and hoped his business partner would not betray him.

He took to trapping and hunting, finding relief only in the wilds - woods thick and dark, untouched by man, ancient beyond his comprehension. They reminded him of her - everything did. A doe caught in a sunbeam, locking her gaze with his before darting away. A rabbit by a stream, standing on hind legs and sniffing the air. Winter snows blanketing the harbor, the world soft and quiet.

In his cabin he was alone, far from aid should anything happen to him, but Casimir felt no fear. He read books on books, trying to seek knowledge of what Elaine had spoken of - each trip into civilization had him carting back more. French history dating back centuries, the world his was built on top of, and between the lines he could see hints of something greater. Perhaps his isolation was driving him mad, seeking connections were there were none, but with each new moon when the night was blackest he felt a glimmer of the purpose Elaine had spoken of.

Two winters passed, and come spring he cut his hair, shaved his beard, and returned to the harbor. His ship awaited him.

Sickness took the ship on the journey back, another member of the crew dying with each turn of the moon. Casimir hardly dared leave his quarters for fear of catching whatever plagued his crew, clutching Elaine’s cross to his breast and repeating his promise. He would return. He’d found his purpose.

It was dawn when they reached Calais once more, blankets and clothing taken out for burning. Casimir begrudgingly set foot on the harbor, though he desired nothing more than to stay in his quarters until nightfall, until Elaine would find him again. Instead he roamed the city streets, all of the anxious energy of months at sea leaving him unable to rest.

By nightfall he’d made it to the Église Notre-Dame, his right hand resting on Elaine’s cross. Staring up at the cathedral, he knew it belonged to the age of which Elaine so often spoke - and he sang out into the night. The stars shone bright above him, and he realized he’d been too drunk to ever marvel at the beauty of the city - to ever appreciate the wonder of standing alone bearing witness to creation.

Footsteps sounded behind him - he turned, thinking it Elaine come to reveal herself to him at last, but he recalled too late that Elaine was ever silent. Instead he saw a single figure in a dark coat - a man, his face masked by the wide brim of his hat.

Too late, Casimir saw him draw a flintlock from beneath his coat - and he fired.

The sound split the air. Casimir stumbled back as if he’d been struck by an ox - his shirt had gone red, scorched from where the bullet had entered just to the left of Elaine’s cross. He fell to his knees, legs suddenly unable to support him.

Somewhere far away, he heard a scream.

The man lowered his smoking flintlock and approached. “Your business partner fears the wrath of God. He has repented, and paid the price for his own part in this.”

“Elaine.” Casimir choked out, looking up at the stars above, willing them to intervene on his behalf. A cloud passed overhead, blocking out the moonlight. The color was fading from the world, and he could smell rot on the air.

“An accomplice?” His attacker questioned. “If you tell me where to find her, I’ll end it quic-”

Casimir saw a blur in his periphery - a shadow that reminded him of a dancer with ribbons. It collided with his attacker while the man was mid-sentence, and Casimir heard only a choked noise before the sound of tearing meat and blood spilling across the pavement drowned out all else.

The cloud above passed by, and though the edges of his vision had begun to blur Casimir saw clearly what had taken place. His attacker lay torn in two on the pavement, blood and organs sprayed across it, steaming in the cool air. Above stood a woman in a ruined nun’s habit, her arms wrapped in bandages - like ribbons - and as she ran to him he realized her arms were too long, hands like claws.

“Casimir.” she choked out, and he realized his Elaine was a corpse.

Yet she was his Elaine - and the leathery hands that drew his own toward her made his heart ache.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled, tongue thick in his mouth.

“No.” Elaine replied, gaze fixed on the wound in his chest - her face was blurring before him, but he could make out her eyes - glowing white and pure as diamond in the dark, edged with panic. “You… you shouldn’t have come back.”

“I had to.” Casimir answered - his hands were going numb, cold as hers, and he gritted his teeth. “Couldn’t die there. Can’t… can’t die now.”

Elaine was trembling, gaze shifting between him and his wounds. “Do not ask this of me. I will damn us both.”

He smiled at her, then - she was no angel, no woman, she’d told him no lie. Whatever she was, he was certain god’s light had abandoned them both. “You said… you said that when I asked you to come with me. Why?”

“My kind cannot dwell among yours. We are cursed, to live forever, hideous - oh, love, I never wanted you to see me like this -”

Casimir pulled a hand away from her - she shuddered and closed her eyes until he placed it at her cheek. It was leathery as her hands, part of it torn open, but he could feel the blood on his palm and that was enough. “Elaine.” he croaked. “If damnation will let me live -”

“It is no life.” she whispered. “You will never see the sun again. You will never sail the sea. You will be a monster.”

“You aren’t a monster.” he murmured, hand dropping from her face. Casimir slumped forward, the cold in his limbs spreading, body growing heavier. “A life, with you…”

The air left his lungs, and he found himself unable to take in more. Elaine remained kneeling in front of him as he collapsed against her, head buried in the crook of her shoulder. The tremble in her body kept him on the edge of consciousness long enough to feel her gently pull his hair away from his neck.

“Just a Kiss, love.” she murmured into his ear, before placing her lips to his throat.

At twenty-three, in the year 1758, Casimir had drank his fill of life and found it wanting.

At the lips of his angel, he found purpose in death.

#fanfic #vtm #vampire the masquerade #nosferatu #vtmtober #oc: casimir #oc: elaine de la saules #okay yeah tbh casimir's mental state was never the most stable #anyway have a nosferatu love story

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darlingpetao3 · 3 years

Text

Thank You For Ruining My Life: An Homage to Tom Cavanagh

“You’ve ruined all my future expectations of men.”

The costume-clad woman had the courage of steel to say this to the then 53-year-old actor, Tom Cavanagh of The Flash, in front of a ballroom filled with a couple hundred people. This brave utterance was spoken during the 2016 Fan Expo Vancouver convention during a Flash question and answer period with actors Tom Cavanagh and Candice Patton. In its third season, the show was undoubtedly still hitting its stride in popularity, and the room was packed to hear these two speak.

The brave woman whose turn it was at the microphone was referring to Tom’s role as Ed Stevens on the NBC 2000 hit, Ed. I had not known of this show previously, but having now heard such a proclamation intrigued me. “You’ve ruined all my future expectations of men.” That was a tempting notion, and as I continued to listen to this disarmingly charming and wittingly funny man steal the stage, Tom intrigued me even more. I’d watched him play three different versions of Harrison Wells on The Flash since the show’s premiere date, yet I hadn’t truly noticed him in a “life-ruining” way before.

Little did I know that Tom Cavanagh would not only eventually ruin my expectations for men as well, but he would change my life in other ways, too.

After the Q&A, I had this urge to buy a S.T.A.R. Labs T-shirt from one of the vendors at the convention. In my head, I thought I would purchase something so that I could have an excuse to talk to Mr. Cavanagh at his signing booth. Again, he intrigued me, and I wanted to experience more of his incredibly likeable personality. So, I dragged my friend with me to wait for what was maybe ten minutes in a queue. Shortly, I was paying the assistant for my autograph I would soon acquire. They wrote my name on a sticky note so that Tom would know how to sign a personalized message to me. And then, it was my turn.

His eyes sparkled when he turned his attention to me. I instantly had a feeling this was just the way he was naturally. Oh yeah, and I swear to God I’d never seen eyes that blue in my entire life. It genuinely stunned me.

“Hi!” he greeted me.

“Hi!” I responded, equally as thrilled. Tom admired the T-shirt I had brought and took note of my name on the piece of paper. I remember us joking together about the extremely lax security in and around S.T.A.R. Labs on the show, which prompted his message to me on the heather-grey cotton. He wrote my name, [followed by a heart!] and a very welcoming, ‘Come on by, just walk right in!’

I had official clearance from Harrison Wells himself.

I thanked him very much, leaving with my treasure folded over my arms. My friend and I walked towards the hall’s exit, and I couldn’t shake this feeling inside me. It felt strange—I couldn’t name it for the life of me. It felt like an odd fluttering with a simultaneous yet contradictory slightness of breath. My head was confused and would continue to be so for the rest of that weekend.

As I waited at my gate in the airport on that Sunday evening to head home, all I knew was that the moments at the con featuring Tom were the highlights of the weekend for me.

And that I was going to begin watching more of the other films and television shows he’d been in. What was the show the brave cosplaying woman had said ruined her expectations of men? Oh yeah, Ed.

Maybe I’ll start there…

***

Feliz Navidad, Feliz Navidad…

In my house, it’s never really Christmastime until Michael Bublé croons through the speakers of the wooden stereo system in the living room. It felt especially festive as it was now Christmas Eve—a month and some change since the con. It was late, possibly ten o’clock. I was lying on the floor in front of the Christmas tree with my trusty laptop, a word document open. I was writing three holiday-song short stories featuring the new muse in my life, Harrison Wells. I wanted to be able to post them the next day, so my fingers were taptaptapping away.

I had written a handful of things before 2017, most of which had been Marvel-related, under my second, ‘rebirth’ pen name online. I was a little fish among all the grand and fabulous writers on Archive of Our Own, and in many ways, I still feel like that little fish. I was only just learning and feeling out the psyche of the Wells characters. Each one is so different. In my rewatch of the previous seasons of The Flash, I’d taken diligent notes, and as I’d later learn with each following rewatch, I would know them all—what they think, how they talk and behave—like the back of my hand. It was fun to suss out these guys, and I found that I was growing to love the act of writing even more.

One month later, in January, I would post all the stories I’d written thus far on Tumblr. I’d just created an account and, who knows? Maybe I’d get a wider range of readers on here, too.

Might as well give it a shot, right?

***

Wild horses couldn’t keep me from attending Fan Expo Vancouver 2017, especially when the big news dropped. Not only would Tom Cavanagh be attending again, but so would Carlos Valdes, Danielle Panabaker, Candice Patton, and the convention-elusive star of the show himself, Grant Gustin.

Before the moderator for the Flash cast’s Q&A panel could utter the final thanks to the actors at the end of the session, I bounded from my seat and sped down to the photo op booth where the cast would be taking “Team Up” photos with fans. ‘Sped down’ has to be the most appropriate couple of words because I indeed felt like a true Speedster dressed head to toe as the small screen’s adaptation of Jesse Quick, the angsty and brilliant daughter to Harrison Wells turned superhero.

After waiting in a queue that felt like ages, I was next to stand with Team Flash. As I took a step forward, all of the actors’ and actresses’ eyes—the people I spend time with every Tuesday evening—were on me. I heard a familiar voice approve of my costume. It was Danielle.

“Tremendous.”

Grant even joked that he thought for a second Violett Beane, the actress who plays Jesse Quick, had shown up to surprise them. “I was like, what’s Violett doing here?” he said.

I stood in the back row, happily sandwiched between Tom and Carlos. I dared to let my hands rest on their backs, and I couldn’t contain my joy. Shortly after, when I received my near-instant physical photograph of the moment, I saw Tom had pointed at me. In my mind, it felt as if in his gesture, he meant, hey, look at this cool person. Haha. I couldn’t be further from it.

I would go on to further be uncool in public as I later found myself virtually shaking and almost hyperventilating in line for a one-on-one photo op with Tom. The guy dressed as Kid Flash behind me gave me a few encouragements of the “it’ll be okay” variety. As my turn finally arrived, the lovely man of the hour greeted me with a bright smile in recognition of my Reverse Flash T-shirt (I had done a quick change before this photo op because I had worn a Flash T-shirt for a photo with Grant).

“Great shirt!”

The internet comes up with many hilarious and fitting words, but none such so than the term “Cavanarms.” One of the said Cavanarms found its way around my shoulder in such a casual way. My hand rested on his back, and I have told anyone who will listen about how soft his sweater was. What was approximately a five-second interaction will stay with me forever. And to this day, I will always regret how I’m standing beside him in the picture—there’s a distinguishable gap between us. I could have been closer—should have been!—but I like to use the fact that I felt as if I’d combust into flames if I were any closer to the man.

Maybe I’d have another chance to combust later again that day because, believe it or not, this fan hadn’t had enough of seeing Mr. Cavanagh in person. And since he was appearing at the con for this day only, there was no way I was going to squander any opportunities. Besides, there was still one final thing left on my convention docket: the autograph. In my mind, going to get his autograph was an excuse to get to talk to him and simply be in his presence for longer than five seconds. Here, take my money. I’m a sucker, and I’m proud of it. I saved all year for this kind of thing, and Fan Expo has always been my ultimate nerdy Treat Yoself Day.

Plus, this year I came equipped with a question for Tom (something for which I may have prepared a little too far in advance).

“Which of your characters would win in a lawyering battle: Ed or Miles?”

Miles was Tom’s latest character from his newly released project Darrow & Darrow, a fellow lawyer as Ed Stevens (remember, the man who ruins women’s expectations of men?), whom he portrayed almost two decades prior. What I loved about Tom when I got to ask him this was that he was silent for a moment following the question. He was genuinely putting thought into my question. As he pondered, Tom continued to autograph the photo of us together taken mere hours ago.

“Ed. He would wipe the floor with that other guy. Like, Miles is great, but Ed has a rapier-sharp mind, you know?”

I wholeheartedly agreed with his answer and felt relieved inside for some reason. We thanked each other (as politely as two Canadians can) before I left him to pay attention to the next lucky soul in line. I made the mistake of casting my eyes downward at the signed photo.

Tom had signed two little hearts over the I’s in my name. He really needed to stop adding hearts to my things, or I was just going to melt to the floor. In fact, I started to make these strange noises as I tried not to completely maul everyone in front of me while exiting. My friend ushered me as fast as physically possible on our way out of the main hall. One man took one look at me and asked, “Are you okay?”

No.

“Yep!”

The second I made it out of the herd, I broke out into open space. First came the minor hyperventilating. Then came the squealing followed by laughter. Top it off with various fangirlish comments of, “He’s so beautiful!”, “His eyes are so blue!” and “I love him!” and I was probably quite the sight to see (but at a convention, that’s considered normal!). My friend smiled on as she let me express everything that I had to keep inside until I had the right time to expel my emotions. I was on cloud nine. Ten, if at all possible.

The next day would be the con’s final day, which I would attend alone. My friend needed to catch the ferry in order to prepare for her courses the day after. I did a scan of the convention hall one final time in case there was something I missed purchasing. Afterwards, I sat on the cold hard flooring of the convention centre hallway for a bit of a break. I was wiped out. With my phone in hand, I smiled at the messages from this one Tumblr blogger who had been following my posted adventures at the con. I had seen and replied to many of her comments on my stories I’d written thus far, and I enjoyed her matching enthusiasm for Tom and The Flash in general. I felt her to be a kindred spirit. I had no idea then that I was chatting with one of my future best friends, L.

***

I spotted her.

She was wearing an identical shirt to the one I had on—a light grey T-shirt with a sequinned Spider-Man mask in the corner, which around it read, We met on the Web. A giddy me couldn’t wait for the short escalator ride to end. Her back was to me and facing the baggage claim, so here was my chance to surprise her instead.

I towered over my friend, E, and donned a low, authoritative voice.

“Excuse me, Miss, can you come with me?”

She squealed a greeting to me and I returned it as we hugged for the very first time after two and a half years of online friendship. We would still have about two hours to kill until our mutual Tumblr best friend, L, touched down at Chicago’s O’Hare Airport from across the Pond.

Something I noticed was that E and I carried on talking during our wait like it was second nature, that we hung out like this all the time. Whereas when I met L in person for the first time the year previously, our first meeting was that of quiet, delighted shock, unknowing how to react to one another’s physical presence. It almost felt like a fantasy. The closest thing we’d ever gotten to this was visiting over video chats! I’m not sure what each of these different reactions in these separate meetings meant, but what I do know is that I’ve never had such strong female friendships such as these—so full of uplifting support and love for one another. They are the greatest ladies I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

And as a searching L eventually turned the corner to meet us in the Arrivals terminal, I caught sight of her Tom & Grant bandana tied around the handle to her carry-on bag. It was an item she had received in return for helping fund the short film produced in 2018 (I’d bought the ringtone). Seeing the accessory jolted me to remember that the former of the titular short was the reason for this long-awaited get-together holiday in the Windy City in the first place. Tom Cavanagh, unbeknownst to him, had just officially united three online friends, each from a different country, to spend six full days of in-person bonding and a whole lot of fun.

***

I should have been shelving books.

I should have been doing a lot of library-related tasks, but my head was elsewhere. Anywhere other than the small-town public library where I work. Instead, I sat on the carpeted floor of the Junior/Young Adult section with my phone in hand and a dreadful article title staring back at me.

“The Flash: Carlos Valdes and Tom Cavanagh to Exit after 7 Seasons.”

My world felt like it was falling apart.

Tom was leaving? There had been rumours and wonderings spreading around the fandom regarding whether he was leaving the show. With a storyline ending with a monumental sacrifice and a time-travelling man saying his farewells, it all seemed to point to the fact. I should have known… I could have rivalled Supergirl as being the Paragon of Hope after all the optimism I doled out to my followers and friends who would come to me worried Tom would exit the show. I would always give reasons to deny such a thing could happen, claiming that I’d believe when I saw it.

Well, there it was, and I definitely saw it.

One could feel the ripple effect over the internet of the shards of broken and riled-up hearts around the world.

Tom’s exit was on his terms, having not felt challenged by his character’s plotlines, as mentioned in a recent Entertainment Weekly article. As a viewer—and I am a viewer (Mike and Tom Eat Snacks, anyone?), it has been increasingly difficult to look past the missed shots made by story editors and showrunner, so understandably, the actor would want to seek something more exciting and meatier. That said, Tom has always shone on-screen and taken what he’s been given in stride. He turns unearthed material into diamonds and indeed shines on screen. Steals it, even! Tom easily makes the episodes he’s in better, and when he’s missing, you feel the loss. The few episodes of Season 7 without him only give us a tiny hint at how the show will be without him going forward. It much resembles when you might bring out your favourite jigsaw puzzle, only to find that the one piece you need to complete it isn’t there.

***

On a personal note, as I write this, I am roughly 20 followers away from reaching a milestone of 2,000. I have written well over 200 stories for The Flash alone (whether they be short or long, one-shots or chaptered), and goodness knows how many words I’ve generated altogether over the course of these many years with inspiration from the show and my favourite character. I’ve written and co-written novel-length stories, one monumental Wellsian story of which was done alongside L and E (almost solely done through alternating text messaging in the app, Line) that reached over 108,000 words and consisted of 42 chapters. And when I’m not writing for my blog, I’m also working on trying to accomplish my dream of becoming a published author. Just as I thought before I launched my Tumblr blog, I think again now: Might as well give it a shot, right?

***

I have watched virtually everything Tom has been in that I could get my hands on, both physically and electronically. Sure, a few titles are out of my reach and probably lost to the very early 90's forever, but from what I've seen through Tom's filmography is enough to know that he can do anything. He can play the romantic leading man that will make you fall head over heels for him or a deranged killer that will have you genuinely scared of him. That is talent. Tom always brings something new to the table from each role to the next, and (when he's not playing those psycho killers) you can't help but admire his craft.

Not only is his acting stellar, but from what we as fans have gathered on the man, Tom has got to be one of the kindest men in the business. His humour and sheer ridiculousness could get anyone through a tough time (we’ve seen plenty of bloopers and behind-the-scenes videos to prove this!). He has clearly bottled and stored an endless supply of Fountain of Youth™ and each year continues to wow us with his handsomeness. Tom is charming, dedicated, and yes, arguably holds the world record for Bluest Eyes.

In my eyes, Tom Cavanagh gave me the two best friends I could have ever asked for, as well as plenty more lovely friends I’ve continued to make online. (One day, I hope to meet him again so that I can tell him in person how because of him, I’ve met such very important people in my life). Through Tom, I have truly found my passion for writing, and in doing so, segued me to dare to dream of becoming a published novelist. I wholeheartedly believe all of this would not have happened if it weren’t for those first series of events that led me to meet Tom and love and admire him immensely. He is indisputable proof that there are indeed men like him out there. Indeed, he did ruin all of my future expectations of men. He ruined my life in the absolute best way and I am eternally grateful.

I am very much looking forward to what Tom will do next. I think it’s rather needless to say that I will follow him in his career, as he has gained a devoted fan for life. He represents so much to me and so much of it I have gained since meeting him that fateful day, when I thought to myself, Maybe I should buy this T-shirt and get this guy to sign it. Wherever Tom goes in life, I’ll be here to cheer him on.

I have a pretty good feeling plenty of others will, too.

#i don't exactly want to tag this with his name #but this is a personal essay of sorts regarding tom cavanagh's effect on my life #if you decide to read I hope you enjoy it!

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trojc-rewrite · 3 years

Text

The Rise of Jimmy Casket Rewrite, Chapter Four

——————————————————————————

Toast blinked, his body not moving for a few seconds. His heart and lungs were lurching in his chest, he felt hot and cold at the same time. He let a shaky smile across his face, laughing a bit.

Ghost fixed his hair, cold lake water dripped slowly from his hair tips. His gray sweater was almost black from the lake water, and a strand of seaweed was strapped to his shoulder.

“Ghost,” Toast said solemnly. A million emotions were exploding in his chest, like tiny fireworks popping. Relief, joy, confusion. He wanted to wrap his arms around his friend, and never let him go. He wanted to hold him there in a warm hug, and sit there solemnly forever.

“Ghost I, where have you- thank you- but where have you been? I-I was so worried. Sir I’ve missed you so much,” he spilled out. Ghost looked at him, a mixed emotion glazing his good eye. But to Toast’s relief he smiled, showing an emotion not often seen in his best friend.

“There's so much. It’s too much to really explain right now.” Ghost said, picking the string of seaweed off his shoulder. He flicked it off of his fingers, and it hit Spooker in the leg. The ginger made a disgusted face, peeling it off of his jeans.

Ghost shook out his sleeve, staying quiet for a few minutes. “I was on my way back home believe it or not, and then I saw you and Gavin- just, holy shit. You absolute dumbass,” He breathed out a sigh. “I mean, I love how brave you are but Jesus, you can’t be dying on me.”

Toast chuckled, sitting upwards gently. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I almost died on this trip, that’s for sure.”. Ghost smiled a tiny bit, before turning his attention to Toast's leg.

“We should get somewhere warm, and get that wound looked at. It could be infected.” Ghost said, leaning over his friend's leg. The wound was pulsing with cold, dull pain.

The four of them were quiet, not speaking. A question hung in the air, “but where?”. Toast's wallet was soaked, so no cash. Ghost more than likely couldn’t afford to get a hotel room for four people, with Spooker and Colon in the same boat.

The river water lapped at the beach, making soft sounds against the sandy grass. Wind howled over him, pointing out how cold he was getting. It laughed at him, taunting him with inevitable hypothermia if he stayed out here. “Maybe my credit cards survived my fall.” Toast said, grabbing his sodden wallet.

Luckily, they did. He had only one really old card, but it would do for tonight.

Toast looked up from his wallet, and made eye contact with Colon. His eyes were staring at him, and he nodded to him. Toast knew what that meant, that was Colon’s silent way of asking “may we talk, specifically without Ghost.”

“Ghost, there’s a motel across the bridge. I hate to be that person, would you mind booking us a room for the night? I might take a few minutes to get up.” He said, blinking some water droplets from his eyes.

Ghost was quiet, unreadable emotions filling his face. “Okay, just don’t be too late.” He said, and Toast smiled at him.

“Thank you Sir. We’ll be there soon.” Toast said. His friend got up, wringing out his hoodie sleeve. He shook his hair out one last time, spraying Spooker and Colon with water droplets.

Ghost rolled his eye slightly, which Toast laughed at. “Still being grumpy, I see?”. His friend snorted.

“Yeah, I guess.” He said, smiling slightly. He grabbed his satchel from the shore.

Ghost disappeared over the bridge, the night consuming him until he was nothing more than a ringing thought in Toast’s head.

Spooker and Colon turned to him, eyes hard. “We hope that you know that we have several questions.”

Toast rubbed the wedding ring on his neck, feeling anxiety beginning to blossom in his belly. “Of course you do.” He joked.

Colon sat down on a mossy rock, “I’m just thinking. Aren’t you angry with him?” He asked, looking at him with foggy eyes.

Toast gave him a confused look. “Why would I be?”

Colon held out his arms in a matter-of-fact way. “He left us Toast! He left you to hold P.I.E together, he left me and Spooker with barely any knowledge on anything. Hell, Spooker is STILL a trainee!”

Spooker hesitantly nodded.

“He just left us. We barely got an explanation. He just said ‘Hey I gotta go, dunno when I’ll be back.’ You aren’t upset over that? Not even in the slightest? He left you with scraps!”

Colon looked upset, but not in an angry way. He looked sad, as if he had actually been hurt when Ghost left. In which, Toast didn’t get 100%, sure they had their moments of clarity, and sometimes they worked together brilliantly, but he didn’t think they were that close.

‘He holds a grudge with Ghost for leaving.’ Toast thought, ‘Which I can’t even blame him for. If I wasn’t so close to Ghost I would be too.’

He studied his inner emotions more, taking a few minutes to breathe before answering. ‘Maybe I am mad at him for leaving.’ He thought. Toast could feel a kernel of anger settled in the knot of other emotions, weaved in there like a root. It was small, it wasn’t enough to make him be this upset, but it was there. And Toast was sure that Colon probably felt it more.

‘Maybe he looked up to him, in a weird way.’ He thought finally.

He took a deep breath. “I am upset with him.” He answered truthfully. “But I feel like anger won’t solve anything here.”

He played with the gold ring around his neck, watching it catch the moonlight with a glint. The ring brought back memories. Memories of him and Mary dancing on their wedding night, proposing to her. And then came the unpleasant memories, muddled in, unfortunately intertwined. And then came the memories of Ghost, him coming to visit him every day, taking care of him, helping him with his alcohol addiction. Telling him it would work out in the end, that he’d be happy again. Some of the rare moments of Ghost’s optimism, some that he knew he might not ever see again.

“But, even though him leaving wasn’t right, and I agree that he shouldn’t have left on such short notice, I forgive him for it too. There’s so much to Ghost, he’s a complicated person, as cliche as that sounds.

“He didn’t mean to hurt us. I know that for a fact. Ghost cares about us, he refuses to say it, he hates showing vulnerability, but he loves both you and Spooker. He has his moments, but they’re easy to miss.

“But, I don’t blame you for being upset with him. Him leaving us for those few weeks, it wasn’t the best thought out decision. But confronting him about it, I feel like it’ll cause more issues.”

Colon took in what he said for a few minutes, his expression softening. Spooker shuffled beside him, looking lost in thought. His eyebrows were knitted in soft confusion.

“I understand that he respects us, I guess I was just hurt when he left. He left us with more questions than answers. He left me thinking, ‘what did I do wrong?’, those things are just so hard to get over. I just hope he tells us. We’re a team right? We’re supposed to trust each other. Why didn’t he want to tell us?”

Toast brought his legs closer to his body, straining as his leg pulsed with numb pain again.

“Ghost has his secrets, and we should respect that. Plus, he always tells us inevitably, one way or another.”

He got up, limping a bit. Spooker helped him stand, getting to his side. The ginger still looked lost in thought, his eyes somewhere not in the conversation.

Colon nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

He stood up, dusting off his pants. Moss stuck to his legs, staining his jeans green.

“Now let's go, I can’t wait to sleep on something that isn’t dirt.” Colon said.

Spooker chuckled slightly to himself. Toast blinked at him, and Spookers eyes focused. “Sorry! I was just thinkin, ya know how it is.”

Toast smiled, “I understand.”

He slowly closed his hand around his ring necklace, staring up at the stars. They glowed so bright, Toast felt calmed by them. It reminded him of his wedding after party, after most people had gone home. That night was a blast, but Toast's favorite memory was that one.

He, Mary and Ghost all staring at the stars, pointing out constellations and telling quiet stories of their youth. Ghost told stories of Toast, as all of them shared drinks under moonlight.

He smiled slightly to himself.

“Mary, my love, I’m keeping them safe as you asked.”

——————————————————————————-

A calm chapter for the soul, these poor boys needed a break.

New chapter should be up soon! So sorry for the wait!

#p.i.e #paranormal investigators extraordinaire #venturiantale #johnny ghost #jimmy casket #johnny toast #venturiantale pie #fred spooker #colon ghostie

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wordsfromthesol · 4 years

Text

Just A Facade (2/2)

Author: @wordsfromthesol Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Taglist: @zphilophobiaz @anousiemay @malfoys-demigod @pricetagofficial @somnibats Summary: Dick is very confused that his brothers seem to all be getting along with you, and worse…wanting to help you. And wait…were you dating his brother?! Warnings: Violence, cursing, violence...more violence Word Count: 2.0k

You woke up in one of Jason’s t-shirts, in his old room, very confused. As you moved to get up the pain racing up your side jogged your memory. “Shit, Jason’s gunna be so pissed at me.”

“You could say that again!” You heard his voice coming from the bathroom.

You slowly made your way to the bathroom and leaned against the door frame. “It’s not like I meant to get shot Jay.”

“Yeah, well, you could have told my idiot brother when it happened.” He stepped towards you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “Or even ME when you got to the cave.”

“I thought I could handle it…why was your brother there in the first place?” The question came out a little more accusatory than you meant. Jason took a step back and threw his hands in the air.

“Because, apparently, you tried to kill him last week.”

“He’s still on that? Ugh, I pulled my punches as much as I could without being glaringly obvious. Next time he shouldn’t be in the way of the actual target.”

“Maybe you should just tell him.”

“Why? He doesn’t need my life story.”

“Y/N/N…”

“Oh you’re one to talk mister come back from the dead and don’t tell anyone.”

“You didn’t even know me before I died!”

“So! I know you didn’t tell your brothers!”

“I know you’re doing this to distract me, and it’s working, but you need to tell him. He won’t trust you, and it will end up getting someone hurt on this case. And if that someone is you –” Jason’s voice trailed off.

It was your turn to throw up your hands in exasperation. Unfortunately, you had forgotten about your recent injuries. “Agh!” You grimaced as your hand went to your side.

“See, that’s a sign that you’re being too stubborn.” Jason smirked before pressing a kiss to your lips and lifting you up. He carried you until you got to the cave, where he gently set you down, allowing you to still use him as a crutch.

“Y/N!” Tim exclaimed at the sight of you, “I’ve found something!” He waited for you and Jason to arrive at his side before he continued. “So, they made a mistake coming after you.”

“How do you know that was related? A lot of people want me dead…”

“Well, I didn’t at first. But then, looking through your pictures…the ones you didn’t originally give us,” Tim shot a judgmental stare your way.

“Oh you would’ve done the same thing.”

“WELL, one of them caught the van…long story short I was able to trace it back here,” Tim points at the screen, “once they left your apartment.”

“Alright, I’ll do some recon then. Come on blue bird.” You gestured to Dick.

“It’s Nightwing – wait you want me to come?”

“Well I know I’m not going to be let out of here alone, so I’d rather just hitch a ride than have one of you bozos follow me.”

“She’s not wrong.” Jason stated plainly as he tossed you a bottle of pills, “Take one before you leave, and please don’t rip my stitches.”

“I’ll try my hardest.”

The two of you sat in silence on the rooftop for nearly an hour. Finally, Dick couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Alright, you gunna try and kill me again, or what?” He finally blurted out, still trying to figure out why you requested him as your back-up.

“What? I never tried to kill you, calm your feathers.”

“Last week!”

“I had to make it look real…I wasn’t alone.”

“Yeah, I noticed that…”

“I know you don’t agree with my life choices Nightwing, but I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.”

“It may not be easy, but you can get out.” Dick made the comment as if it was from personal experience.

“No.” Your voice turned somber, “I can’t. My parents decided to pay for their freedom with mine. If I leave…they’ll just take my sister. There is no out for me.” Your eyes focused on the building below, not daring to face him.

“Sister?” Dick was quickly realizing how little he actually knew about you.

“Heh, yeah. I doubt she even remembers she has one. I got her out, found her a family. She was only four…I haven’t seen her since.”

“Huh, that’s why you actually dropped the act for a minute when you presented this case. I thought you were hiding something.”

“I was. My past.”

“How old were you?”

“Six.”

Silence rang through the night, as the two of you watched the building. Taking photos and notes of all the ins and outs. Finally, the two of you decided it was time to leave. Just as you pulled into the cave, Dick asked one more question…or tried to.

“Are you and Jason…”

“I’m going to let you talk to your brother about that one.” You interrupted his thought before scurrying out the door.

“Well, what did you find?” Tim eagerly awaited for another piece of the puzzle to fall into place.

“Didn’t see any kids, but there were definitely too many guards for a store called ‘Windows, Doors, and More’. Even if it is in Gotham.”

“So we check it out in the tomorrow during the day. By we, I obviously don’t mean you Y/N/N.”

“Yeah yeah Jay, I gathered.” The sarcasm dripped off your response.

“While we’re on that subject…” Now Tim and Damian had turned their attention to you as well. “We think you need a suit. A secret identity. These people found you too easily.”

You chuckled at the mere thought, “Yeah okay. I don’t have any family, there’s no point.” You didn’t notice the sorrow fill Jason’s eyes at your apathetic words.

“Fine, if you won’t do it for me then how about your sister. Just because she doesn’t know about you doesn’t mean others don’t.” Jason’s frustration was apparent.

Before you could comprehend the words, your fist collided with Jason’s jaw. Immediately, you stepped back. Your hands shaking.

“Hit me all you –” Before Jason could finish your hands cupped his face.

“No no no” you whispered more to yourself than him. A tear fell from your eye as your mind finally caught up. “Jay, I’m so sorry.” You pressed a kiss to his lips, then another, and another before enveloping him in a hug. “You’re right. I need to protect her. Protect you.” A faint smile grazed his lips and he pulled you from his chest, keeping his hands resting on your shoulders. The silence seemed to go on forever, until Damian couldn’t take it anymore.

“Finally! Now come see the suit we had designed for you.” It was the first time you had ever heard Damian Wayne excited for something.

You gave Jason a smirk, “You already had it made?”

“For almost a year now.”

“So you guys are together, right?!” You heard Dick’s confused voice bellow in the background. No one answered him.

The next day came and went and a plan was made. Your role was made minimal, and by minimal you meant being forced to sit as the look out on the rooftop across the street. Though you understood, you still couldn’t sit back and watch everything go down. You waited until you heard clear fighting happening in the warehouse when you made your way to the roof. Timing the break-in with a gunshot, you crashed through a second story window and made your way to a locked back room.

The five of you had narrowed the location of the children down to this room. It was the only thing that made sense, and you were determined to get these kids out. The lock was easy to pick, however, you were not expecting someone on the other side. Someone who knew exactly who you were, despite your newfound disguise.

“Oh look who saved me the trouble. I think I owe you another bullet for the number your friend did on my face.”

“Ya’know, he’s right outside…why don’t you just go pay it back now.”

“Somehow I think hurting you will do just that. But don’t worry, he’ll get his turn to.” As you pulled the gun holstered at your side the man delivered a swift jab to your injured side. The gun fell to the floor and you charged at him, dropping to the ground just before making contact and sweeping his legs from under him. He collapsed to the floor and you jumped on top of him, putting as much force as you could against his neck with your arm. As you felt your grip loosening you threw back your head and crashed in into his. You felt him go limp under your weight.

“Where the fuck are the kids.” You mumbled to yourself. You begin searching for a hidden panel or room. As you heard gunshots barrel through the warehouse, you looked down and noticed a locked hatch. Making quick work of the lock, you pulled the hatch open and were met with eight terrified eyes staring up at you.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.” You reached your hand down, offering it to one of the children. After what seemed like hours, a brave soul took it in theirs. Thankfully, the others quickly followed. You soon realized you couldn’t get them out the same way you came in.

“Shit, alright guys. I need you to cover your ears.” You placed your hands over your ears as a demonstration before you set a small charge at the far wall. “Once this goes off you run through the opening and wait in the alley behind the next building. I’ll be there as soon as I can. I promise.” As the children nodded you set off the detonation, grabbed your gun, and positioned yourself between them and the door. You knew the noise would draw attention.

A man soon rounded the corner, only half the kids were out. You shot directly through his knee cap. He wasn’t alone. Upon hearing the shot, the second assailant somersaulted directly into your feet. You stumbled backwards, forcing the last child out of the opening. Your momentary loss of focus allowed the man to push you into the wall. He held one hand around your neck and the other around your wrist. He continued to slam your wrist into the wall until you were forced to drop the gun. You quickly latched your legs around his waist and jabbed your free arm into his side. His stumbled backwards, loosening his grip as he stumbled to stay upright with the additional weight. You pulled your other wrist from his grasp and launched it at his jaw. You heard a crack as your fist made contact. The hand at your neck flew towards his own jaw. As he was off guard, you fell into him, forcing him to fall backwards onto the ground. Just as you stumbled to get up, Jason raced into the room.

“This was not the plan!”

You smirked, “But it worked. Kids are in the next alley. Be a good birdie and go get them Nightwing.” Dick rolled his eyes but complied. Without a word, Damian and Tim joined him. Jason’s eyes trailed towards your neck, which was already starting to change color. Before he could berate you, you continued, your voice heavy. “They were kids Jay. They deserved a life. They deserved a choice.”

Jason pulled you into his chest, “They did, but now we have no one to question. There’s no way these idiots were the masterminds.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

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crossoverfamily · 22 days

Text

So I finally figured out the personalized tags that will be using when the muses want to be IC about their loves, and I need a moment to recover from the sheer sweetness overload. Some of them downright sound like something that works as vows for marriage dear gods.

And then you have Allen, who is certainly very sweet, but also a little shit because both his lines make reference to the whole fact both his LIs have kind of been threats to his life before. And there's a bit of innuendo for Nea's one. Allen lives up to his "look like an angel, is an angel but also a chaotic gremlin that you must fear" reputation. But that's also his way of showing there's no hard feelings at all~

And Wuxian does have his little cheeky part since "every day" is very much Wangxian code for fun between the sheets~

With that said: suffer with me the romance, here are what the tags will be, I swear the blog is meant to speak a lot more about these five dorks together and the non-romantic aspects of relationships, but muses gotta muses and apparently they choose love this morning.

Peter/Tony: You braved Time for me and so did I, may Soul keep us together forever now.

Allen/Nea: Who says soulmates aren't real? Mine has been in me for years, not even death can keep us apart.

Allen/Tyki: I forgive you for the hole you put in my heart once, for my heart is all yours now.

Wild/Twilight: Our gaze meets, our souls howls in recognition, you&I of the Wild like no one else, and may we run together without end.

Wuxian/Wangji: You are the home I never knew I needed until I met you, radiant under the moonlight with eyes I want to see every day.

Ireth/Cullen: With your arms around me I know I am safe, so let me make the world safe for you, too.

Ireth/Dorian: I see past your charms and easy humor to witness the need for love, so let me show you that love isn't just a wistful dream.

#Starker #Poker Pair #Wangxian #WildLight #cullen x inquisitor #Neallen #dorian x inquisitor #You braved Time for me and so did I; may Soul keep us together forever now #Who says soulmates aren't real? Mine has been in me for years; not even death can keep us apart #I forgive you for the hole you put in my heart once; for my heart is all yours now #Our gaze meet; our souls howl in recognition; you&I of the Wild like no one else; and may we run together without end #You are the home I never knew I needed until I met you; radiant under the moonlight with eyes I want to see every day #With your arms around me I know I am safe; so let me make the world safe for you; too #I see past your charms and easy humor to witness the need for love; so let me show you that love isn't just a wistful dream

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lucisfavoritedemon · 3 years

Text

Waiting For Forever Chapter 10

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Sam x platonic!reader

Summary: You met Bucky for a brief second at a fair him and Steve attended. Little did you know you would run into him again as you assist Peggy with Steve. There was just something about the sadness in Bucky’s eyes that night that captured your soul, and he was all you could think about. You have a secret though. You aren’t exactly who he thinks you are. This is a story of love, loss, and overcoming any obstacle thrown your way.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, Bucky being the cutest dad ever, cursing, reader really despising Walker, violence, talks of sexual actions

Word Count: 6467

A/N: This is my thoughts on what happens to reader During The Falcon and The Winter Soldier: Episode Four (roughly). It is not 100% accurate, but I wanted to put a little twist to it. This gives you a glimpse at how the reader and Bucky are balancing work life and keeping their relationship some what professional. I added in some 3rd person POV to get insight on what Bucky’s thoughts are in a certain part. That will be in italics. It is kind of a long one, but there was a lot of detail I wanted to add. There also is something mentioned that I may consider doing a What If...? twist with. Y’all let me know what you think, would that be something you’d be interested in? All mistakes are mine. TFATWS SPOILERS!!!!!

Enjoy!

Of course that’s what Ayo wanted. I didn’t blame her either, Zemo killed their king. Of course Bucky and Sam just had to break him out of jail, and here we are about to feel the wrath of the Wakandans.

“Why did you free Zemo?”

“We need him.” Bucky responded.

“In all honesty, I agree with you Ayo. I wish he would have left well enough alone.”

“We freed you of everything that went back to the Winter Soldier.”

“And I’m grateful for that.”

“Have you forgotten that he killed King T’Chaka at the U.N.?”

“Of course not.”

“My people, those men put me in charge of watching over him, protecting him.”

“I understand that.”

“Maybe we should give him back to them.” Bucky starts to speak Wakandan, “he’s a means to an end.”

I roll my eyes at this. This was absolutely unbelievable, I agreed that Zemo needed to go back. He was going to stop at nothing till he had manipulated us into letting him go free. It would be an endless cycle, a loop that never ended.

“You have 8 hours. Then we come for Zemo.”

Ayo walked away. She didn’t look happy at all, and frankly, I didn’t blame her. I turned around and started heading back to the place Zemo had for us to stay. Bucky grabbed my wrist making me face him. He gave this pleading look, and I knew he was either asking for forgiveness, or to talk.

“I understand your frustration. I do. He’s the last chance we have at finding Karli. Once we’re done, I’ll give him back to the Wakandans. They can do what they will with him.”

“I don’t need you to explain your reasoning. I just knew having Zemo around was a bad idea.”

“I get that. I just need you to trust me. When we’re done with him, I’ll give him back to them.”

“Fine. I’m giving you 6 hours. They’re a little more generous than I am.”

“Fine.”

We walked back to the house in silence. I hated being the bad guy in this, but I believe someone had to be. We walked back in as Zemo stepped out of the bathroom, presumably after a shower. I went and sat down on the couch as Bucky walked to the island in the kitchen. He glanced down at his phone, and his face went sour.

“What’s wrong Buck?” I asked, concerned.

“Karli blew up one of the GRC warehouses. 11 injured, 3 dead.”

“It seems I may be the only one here who is brave enough to finish this mission.”

“We aren’t going to kill her.” Sam stated.

“If it came to that, would you be strong enough to do it?”

“No one is killing anyone, besides me killing you Zemo.” I glared in his direction.

“It’s people with her ideals that have formed the Nazis, Ultron, the Avengers.”

“Those are our friends you’re talking about.” Sam snapped.

“The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Bucky added, for clarification of course.

Zemo started to go on about supremacy, and how Karli is a supremacist. Then he started to talk about super soldiers, and it really got my blood boiling.

“What about Steve?”

“There has yet to be another Steve Rodgers.”

“You wanna know why that is Zemo?” I looked at him seriously this time.

“Why would that be?”

“Because Erskine hand picked Steve. All he ever wanted was to prove to the world that the person who is the most underestimated, can come out on top. It’s why so many people looked up to him. He was part of the minority group. He wasn’t meant to be a good soldier, but a good man.”

I looked away from the group as I recall Erskine's huge speech to Steve. He always knew exactly what to say to people. It’s how he gained my trust so quickly. He treated me like his own flesh and blood when others wanted to use me for my powers. He protected me from Schmidt in Germany before we moved to America, and he continued to do so even after his death.

“When I was young my TT passed away.” Sam started.

“Your, your TT?” Bucky interrupted

"Yeah, my TT."

"Wh-who is your TT?" Bucky questioned, sounding a little annoyed and confused.

“Okay when I was younger, my aunt passed away. The whole community came together. It was a week long thing. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya Madani.”

“That’s actually not a bad thought. A lot of cultures do it.” I agreed.

Zemo goes to one of the cupboards and grabs a container, dumping it out, and tossing something from it to Sam. “Turkish Delight. Irresistible.”

We all decided to go and ask around to see if we could figure out whether we could find out where her funeral was. Zemo of course started to go off about how so much has changed since he was younger. We decided to split up, I was with Sam, and Bucky got stuck with Zemo.

Sam and I walked up to the upper level, and began to ask around. Everyone ran away from us though, and didn’t want to speak with us. They all looked scared and very weary. We walked into a room where it looked like a lesson was taking place.

“We’re looking for Donya Madani, she was a refugee here.” Sam spoke up.

“We are not refugees. We have nothing to seek refuge from. We are just displaced people. We don’t trust outsiders.”

“We want to help out.”

“We have heard that so many times. People have promised more teachers, supplies. That was 6 months ago.”

I was starting to understand Karli better. Before Erskine I was alone in a world that didn’t care about me. Erskine was the person who took me in and gave me food and shelter. He was the only person who seemed to care. So, I guess I could understand Karli a bit better.

“What’s your name, I can make a few calls.” Sam tried to fight.

“I know who you are, but I don’t trust you. I’m sorry.” The man picks up a child and walks off.

“Well that didn’t go to plan.” “No, but it gave us a better idea as to why Karli is doing what she’s doing. Her people are suffering because the government won’t meet their needs. Her cause is good, but the way she is going about it is wrong.”

“Then we need to find Donya and find Karli. The sooner we can get her to stop this the better off we’ll be.”

“The thing is Sam, I don’t think we’ll be able to. Her ideals, they are just too strong to stop. Not without going into war that is. Trust me. I know how this ends, and it ends in bloodshed, as much as I hate to admit it.”

Sam nods in agreement as we walk down to meet up with the other two. As we approach we notice Zemo talking to a group of kids. I notice the Turkish Delight laid out on a little stool. I notice a little girl walk up to him, and whisper in his ear.

“What is he doing?” Sam asked.

“I have no idea.” Bucky responded.

“This is why I’m going to be a helicopter parent when we get home.” I add in, watching with a look of shock and horror on my face.

Zemo walks back over to us, and we all head back to his place. He was keeping us in the dark about something, and I did not like this one bit. Once back at the house, we settled in and started to question Zemo.

“That little girl, what did she tell you?” Sam questioned first.

“The funeral is this afternoon.”

“Where is it?” I asked, hoping he would tell us.

“That is classified.”

“Of course it is. No matter, wherever it is, I want to talk to Karli.”

“Absolutely not.” Bucky protested.

“I’m going with you Y/N.” Sam stated.

“Fine with me, but I feel like maybe talking to someone who knows exactly what she is going through may help her.”

“And you think you can stop her?” Zemo almost laughed.

“I’ve been in her shoes. I know what it’s like to feel all alone. To want the world to pay attention to the minority. I used to be her.”

“But you’re not.” Bucky added.

“Not anymore, but had Erskine not found me when he did, I could have ended up exactly like her.”

“I don’t think you’re going to convince her.” Zemo butted in.

“I don’t care, if I even make her question whether this is the right thing, then I’ve done something right.”

“You know the Dora will be here for you any minute, so keep talking.” Bucky threatened.

“What, so you can turn me over? I prefer to keep my leverage.” Zemo retorts.

Bucky stands up quickly, grabs the cup Zemo is holding, and throws it at the wall, “you wanna see what someone can do with leverage?”

“Bucky, calm down. It’s okay.” I say walking over to him.

“I’m going to make a call.” Sam said walking off.

I went and sat back down on the couch. I pulled Bucky over to sit next to me to get him to calm down so he didn't kill Zemo. I wanted to bring up the fact it was his idea to break Zemo out of prison.

“Have you checked in on Jamie?” Bucky asked as I ran my fingers through his hair.

“I haven't. I didn't want to, not with mister creeper around.”

Bucky chuckled some, "that's fair. I just worry about him without us around. D-does he have any powers or weird abilities?”

“He's started to develop some, but that all comes from my side. You'd be surprised how much he reminds me a lot of Steve, but he really is just like you. He has your charm and Steve's spirit. God, that boy is going to be a lady killer.” I giggle some.

Bucky smiles at me, but it fades fast, "I hope nobody has teased him about who his dad is. I hope they don't ruin the picture you've painted of me in his mind.”

“I hope not either, but if that does happen, we'll handle it. Together, I fear nothing as long as we do it together, as a family.” I squeezed Bucky's hand tightly. He was part of my family now. He was the father of my child, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

Bucky squeezed my hand back, “as a family.” He smiled, and my heart skipped a beat when those words came out of his mouth.

“Okay you two love birds, let's get going.” Sam said, interrupting our moment.

Bucky and I stood up, and we walked out heading to the celebration of life for Donya Madani. Bucky took my hand, intertwining our fingers. The metal felt nice and cool against my hand, and I was relishing in the fact that he felt comfortable with me holding his metal hand.

“Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit.” John Walker spoke as he and his sidekick walked towards us.

“Ah! How'd you find us now?” Bucky sounded annoyed and pissed.

“Come on, man. You really think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without drawing attention?” Battlestar spoke up.

“No more keeping us in the dark. You could start by telling us why you broke him out of prison.” Walker demanded.

“He did that himself technically.” Bucky said, making me roll my eyes.

“This better be an unbelievable explana…”

“Hey! Take it easy before it gets weird.” Sam said, breaking things up between Walker and Bucky.

“I know where Karlie is.” Zemo announced.

“Well, where?”

“All we know is that it's a memorial.’

“So we're going to intercept her there.” Sam stated trying to stop Walker from following us.

“That means civilians, high risk of casualties.” Battlestar stated.

“Alright, good, we'll move in fast.” Walker ordered, moving around Sam.

“No. Sam and I are going to talk to her, civilly. I'm not sure if you know what that means, do you want me to give you the definition?”

“We want to talk to her alone.”

“Don't be smart with me bitch!”

“What did you call me!?” I went to charge him, but Bucky grabbed my arm to stop me.

“I'm not losing her again!” Walker shouted.

“Look, the person closest to her died, she's vulnerable. If there's any time to reason with her, it's now.”

“What? No, no! No, no, no, stop!” Walker tried to get us to stop walking.

“I know you think you can't reason with people like her, Walker, but I used to be in her shoes. I know what it's like to feel like the world doesn't care about you. I was that girl almost 90 years ago. Abraham was my Donya, and I lost him. If anything, she needs someone who knows what it's like, not someone who got handed everything.” I attempted to walk around him, but he shoved me back.

“I think we're way past reasoning with her, unless you forgot the fact that she blew up a building with people still in it.”

“You two walk in there cold, she could kill you.”

“If we go in hot, and the op goes wrong, more people could die." Sam tried to reason.

“I believe that Sam and I can reason with her.” I tried to explain.

“You're gonna let them do this?” Walker turned to Bucky.

Bucky had a look of confidence and confusion. I know he hated the thought of me going in there, but he also knew I was right. He knew Sam and I both had a good chance of convincing her to stand down.

“You're going to let your partners walk into a room with a super soldier alone?" Walker tried to contort his thoughts into not letting me walk in.

I locked eyes with Bucky, begging him to not listen to Walker. That he wasn't the voice of reason, that I was. I begged him to trust me with this mission, that I could do this. I knew I could defend myself if it came to that, so could Sam. I could see the war going on in his head though, and I was almost convinced he was going to pull me out.

“They've dealt with worse. And Sam isn't my partner.” Bucky responded, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is right in my wheelhouse.” Sam tried to convince Walker more.

“Yeah, I know. And I know those soldiers, which is why I believe this is a bad idea.”

“Wait, John. If they can talk her down it might be worth a try.”

Walker scoffs, “fine," he turns to Zemo, "we'll deal with you later.”

“I'm sure you all will come to an agreeable conclusion. My associate is just up ahead.” Zemo gestures to a little girl and we start walking again, “hello my friend,” he pulls some money out of his pocket, “this is for your family. Can you show us the way?”

The little girl nods and starts walking ahead. I looked to Bucky, reminding him this is why I haven't called to check up on Jamie with Zemo around.

“What the hell?��

“For once I agree with you.” I mumble to myself, staying close to Bucky.

The little girl leads us to what appears to be the back entrance to where this gathering is happening. She stops, opens the door and nods. She starts to walk in gesturing us to follow her.

“This is the place.” Zemo stated.

Sam and I get in front of the group, and go to follow the little girl. Walker grabs Zemo quickly, and I thought a fight was going to break out. Walker cuffs Zemo to a boiler looking thing, and pins him there.

“You two have 10 minutes, then we’re doing things my way.” Walker states.

Sam and I rush in to find time for us to talk to Karli before Walker can get to her. As we walk around, we notice the building we’re in is two levels. Sam and I watch Karli’s speech from the upper level. Hearing her talk about Donya reminded me a lot of how I would have talked about Dr. Erskine. The more she talked, the more I felt connected to her.

After everyone left, Sam and I decided to go down, and talk with her. I had a feeling this was gonna be both easy and challenging. I had faith that we were going to be able to talk her down. I was confident Sam felt the exact same way I did.

“I saw you two back there.” Karli spoke, her back turned to us.

“We came alone.” Sam spoke.

“We just want to talk, Karli.” I tried to speak as softly as I could to her, I didn’t want to scare her off, and blow our chance.

“We’re sorry for your loss.” Sam spoke genuinely.

“Don’t condescend to me, I’m not a child.”

“We’re not condescending. I know what it’s like to lose some, believe me.”

“No you don’t, not like this.”

“I do.” I spoke up.

Karli turned to me, then looked at Sam. I wanted her to know I had once come from where she is. I knew what it was like to be someone the government mistreated. I had to get those words out. Maybe then she would stop all this, and everything could go back to normal. No more people would get hurt.

“It doesn’t have to be a war, Karli.”

“They started a war as soon as they kicked us out of our homes and onto the streets. People all around the world need me. Millions of them.”

“We can’t speak for millions, but we understand you, Y/n especially. She came from the same situation you’re facing right now.” Sam mentioned. He had to say anything to gain her attention.

“I understand your frustration, and I understand your helplessness.” I interjected.

Karli stood there for a second before she finally spoke, “so you want me to stop because people are gettin’ hurt, right? But what if I’m making the world a better place?”

“It’s not a better place if you’re killing people, it’s just different.”

“I used to think that fighting back was the only thing, the only way you could get people to listen.”

“You both are either brilliant, or just hopelessly optimistic.” Karli smiles.

“Can’t we be a little bit of both?” Sam chuckled.

“No.”

“Y/n, she knows more about Super Soldiers than anyone on this planet. She was Erskine’s protégé back in the 1930s and 40s."

"It's true. Erskine was my Donya. He saved me from the streets of Germany. He gave me a home, clothes, and food. Everything I could have needed. When things got bad in Germany, he smuggled me away to America. He only wanted what was best for me. I fought back against those who killed him, but I also rebelled against the government back in Germany. Trust me, it got me nowhere fast. It changed nothing, loads of people still died, and I didn’t help.”

“This guy we know who knows a lot about Super Soldiers too, he says you’re a supremacist.”

“Me?” Karli asked as Sam went to sit next to her.

“Yeah.” Sam responded.

“That’s ridiculous. Everything I do is to end supremacy. These corporations and the beasts who run them, they’re the supremacists.”

“So, let us ask you, you have more serum right?” Sam asked, standing up.

“So?”

“Are you going to increase your army? You’re killin’ innocent people.”

“They’re not innocent. They’re roadblocks in my journey, and I’d kill them again if I had to.”

“Wow.” Sam and I were both shocked at what just came out of her mouth.

“No, no I didn’t mean it like that. You tricked me into sounding like…”

“Like what?”

“The people I’m fightin’ are trying to take your home, Sam. Why are you here instead of stopping them?”

“You know, my sister is waiting for that exact same answer.”

“We’re not your enemy, Karli. We agree with your fight.”

“We just can’t get with the way you’re fightin’ it.”

“And I’m sure she wouldn’t either.” I look at Donya, hoping Karli would agree.

Meanwhile:

“No, no, no, no. This is a bad idea.” Walker started speaking aggressively as he paced the small room.

“It hasn’t been 10 minutes, John. Just sit tight.” Bucky spoke up as he leaned against the door frame. He wanted to block the way to give Sam and Y/n time to talk to Karli, though Walker was convinced it was already taking too long.

“Don’t do that. Don’t patronize me.”

“They know what they’re doing, especially Y/n. She’s done this dance before. Give them the time.” Bucky kept trying to convince him.

Bucky couldn’t tell at what point he was convincing John, or still convincing himself. He trusted Y/n and Sam, he knew in his head they could do it. His heart was the one screaming at him to just let John go after them. All Bucky wanted was his girl safe, that’s it.

“I’m goin’ in.” Walker started walking quickly towards the doorway.

Bucky immediately stopped him. If anything, now he was going to risk their lives rather than save them. That was something Bucky couldn’t have. His girl was in there with someone who could easily kill them, and he didn’t want that.

“This is all really easy for you isn't it? All that serum runnin’ through your veins. Barnes, your partners need backup in there. You really want their blood on your hands?”

Bucky is lost for words. He was staring at John to intimidate him, but now, he was frozen in fear. John knew just what to say to get Bucky to do as he said. The last thing he wanted to do was be the reason for Y/n’s death. That was his biggest fear, to come home to their son without his mom.

“Karli Morgenthau, you’re under arrest.” Walker announced, walking in.

Karli looked between Sam and I. This son of a bitch just ruined any chance we had of getting her to back down. From the looks of it, Bucky didn’t put up a fight either.

“So this is what that was?”

“Karli wait…” I stepped closer to her, I needed her to see where this could end. Her fight was going to lead to devastation, and this asshole Walker just ruined everything.

“Tricking me till your backup arrived?” Karli backed away.

“We had enough time to talk.”

By now Bucky and Walker’s partner in crime had walked in. Bucky was trying to get to Walker, but his buddy wouldn’t let him get close. Karli started yelling, and John was trying to grab her. Chaos had broken out in just a few short seconds. It took all I had not to knock Walker on his ass right then and there.

Karli pushed John into a table before taking off. Bucky had shoved the sidekick back, and started going after her. I followed suit hoping I could touch Karli, just so she could feel that I was telling the truth.

We were stopped by a whole group of her allies and fights started breaking out, but I continued to follow her. She was my target, my mission, and I couldn’t let her get away. I didn’t get far though when I met back up with Sam and Bucky.

“I lost her.” Bucky announced.

“I swear to god, next time I see Walker’s face, I’m gonna kill him! Why the hell did you let him get through!” I charged at Bucky.

“Y/n, wait a minute! We don’t know that Bucky let him through.” Sam tried to reason.

“Walker didn’t have a damn scratch on him. If Bucky fought back, he would have been on the ground in 2 seconds flat.”

Bucky stayed quiet because he knew I was right. I was so frustrated that we got so close, and now we are right back to where we started. I was so angry I punched one of the walls in the room we were in.

“Y/n, doll, calm down.”

“No! Because Walker got in, people are going to die. You could have prevented that if you just put up a fight.”

“Are you saying that blood is going to be on my hands?”

“Well you certainly aren’t helping your case here.”

“Y/n! Knock it off. I get you’re frustrated, but take a walk before you say something you can’t take back.” Sam yelled.

I knew he was right. I was about to tell Bucky that the blood of everyone who could die at Karli’s hands was going to be because of him. He already struggles enough with that. I stood there and took a deep breath in to calm myself as Bucky started talking.

“You wanna know what really happened back there? He used you against me. Saying if Karli turned on you, your blood would be on my hands. That would be something I couldn’t live with knowing.”

“Walker plays mind games huh? I’m really gonna kill him this time. So, I suggest you keep us as far apart as possible.”

We started to walk around to see if we could find Walker, when Bucky pulled me aside. I was shocked at how aggressively he grabbed me, but was even more shocked when a rough kiss was what I was met with rather than yelling. I wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him closer to me. After a few seconds he pulled away.

“The last thing I want to do is lose you. I’m sorry I let John get past me like that, but…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I’m frustrated at the situation. Had John not got between Karli and I, I would have been able to show her I wasn’t lying. That Sam and I were really there to show her we agree with her ideals. That I once was just like her. That Erskine was my Donya.”

“I’m glad he rescued you. He brought you to me.”

I giggle, “don’t get sappy on me Buck. I could have easily ended up in a completely different scenario. I could have ended up as Schmidt’s protégé.”

“We would have never met then. I wouldn’t know where I would be without you.”

“Okay, come on lover boy. Let’s get back before Sam gets worried we ran out on him or something.”

We ran to catch up with Sam who had found a door leading to a staircase. We ran in, and saw Walker with a knocked out Zemo on the ground. Walker’s sidekick came running in a few seconds behind us. We looked at each other, then back to Walker. I felt Bucky grab my arm to let me know not to murder him here, no matter how badly I wanted to.

‘What did we miss?” Sam asked, hoping someone could explain the passed out Zemo.

No one said a word as Bucky walked down and picked Zemo up. We walked off back to his place leaving Walker behind. I was so glad Bucky and Sam were there to stop me because I really just wanted to knock Walker out.

When we got into the house, Bucky laid Zemo on the couch. Then, Bucky grabbed my arm and dragged me to one of the bedrooms, slamming the door shut. I was shocked at his bold moves, but I knew we couldn’t do anything with these thin walls, and Sam sitting in the other room.

When Walker played mind games with him, it unlocked something in Bucky. A side I had not seen in a very long time, a side of him I hadn’t seen since the war. Bucky pulled me close after shrugging off his jacket, kissing me passionately, his hands trailing my body. He attempted to start to undress me before I pulled away slowly.

“Everything okay, doll?”

“Not here Bucky. Not when it’s so quiet.”

“You said when we got a vacation.”

“Not with Sam on the other side of the door. He’ll hear everything. I promise, I will find us some alone time, but not right now.”

“Okay,” Bucky grabbed his jacket, putting it back on, “I’m going out for a walk. I’ll be back.” He kissed me gently before walking out.

I sat in the room trying to gather my own thoughts as to what just happened. I started hearing talking from the living room. Zemo was awake now, and he was asking Sam about being offered the super soldier serum. He then asked Sam if he would ever take it. I started to think about Bucky, how he never got the choice. He was a lab rat for HYDRA, and didn’t get a say on the matter.

“Super Soldiers should be allowed to exist.” Zemo spoke.

“Isn’t that how gods talk? And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?”

“You know Zemo, Bucky didn’t get a choice,” I could feel the tears already coming, “and if that’s how you think, then Erskine should have been thrown in jail before he was able to give Steve the serum. Let HYDRA and the Nazis control the world.” I could feel my voice crack.

Right on queue Bucky walked through the doors, “something’s not right about Walker.” He announced.

“You don’t say.”

“Well, I know crazy when I see one because I am crazy.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

“Sam!” I glare at him, and he puts his hands up in defense.

“You shouldn’t have given him the shield.” Bucky stated, pouring himself a drink.

“I didn’t give him the shield.” Sam protested.

“Here we go again.” I roll my eyes.

“Well Steve definitely didn’t.” Bucky looks at Sam as he takes a drink.

Suddenly the doors burst open, “All right that’s it let’s go. I’m ordering you to turn him over.”

“Oh Walker, I've been waiting for you to walk through those doors.” I walk over to him ready to fight.

“I’m flattered, sweetheart, but Lemar is the one interested in you.”

“Hey, just slow your roll,” Sam said, getting between Walker, and me and Zemo, “let’s be clear, shield or no shield, the only thing you’re runnin’ in here is your mouth. Now, we had Karli there, and you overstepped. He’s actually proven himself useful today. We’re gonna need all hands on deck for whatever’s comin’ next.”

“How do you want the rest of this conversation to go, huh?”

“I know how I want it to go.” I raise my hand. Sam glares at me and I put it down.

“Should I put down the shield? Make it fair?”

“Oh yeah, bring it Walker.” I say gathering all my strength to knock him out in one shot.

Walker puts the shield up against one of the columns, but as he goes to stand up, a spear aims right for his head. Too bad he moved out of the way quickly. Then the other two walked in and started speaking Wakandan to Bucky and I.

“Even if he is a means to your end. Time’s up,” Ayo starts speaking English, “release him to us now.”

“More than happy to Ayo. Was willing to when we met up the first time.”

“Hi, John Walker, Captain America.” John reached his hand out to shake Ayo’s, and all I could do was laugh. “Well, let’s, uh, put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?”

“Hey John, take it easy,” Sam smiled to himself, “you might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje.”

“Hear how he said Bucky, and not me. I’m just as tough to fight as the Dora. They may be a little harder than me, by a little.” I said, kind of bragging.

“The Dora Milaje don’t have jurisdiction here…”

“The Dora Milaje have jurisdiction wherever the Dora Milaje find themselves to be.” Ayo spoke, sounding very annoyed, and very angry.

“Okay, look I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot…” Walker put his hand on Ayo’s shoulder, and the fight broke out.

I couldn’t help, but sit on the counter to watch. This was better than I thought. Walker kept trying to fight back, but they kept putting him on his ass.

“We should do something.” Sam tried to reason with Bucky.

Bucky crossed his arms, “looking strong John.”

“Bucky…” Sam warned.

He rolled his eyes, and stopped Ayo from stabbing Walker, “Ayo, let’s talk about this.”

I happened to look over my shoulder as Zemo slipped into the bathroom. I shot up from my spot, and ran to the door, “don’t you dare, Zemo!” I banged on the door. I tried to open it, but he had locked it. I used the force of the wind to knock it open, but he had already slipped into the sewer system.

I turn around as I hear the action from behind me stop, “I’m sorry Ayo. I tried to stop him as soon as I saw what he was doing.” She placed a hand on my shoulder before standing back up. I turned around to see Bucky’s arm on the floor as the Dora headed out.

“Did you know they could do that?” Sam asked as Bucky went to pick up his arm to put it back on.

“No.” Bucky swung his arm around once it was back in place.

Bucky and Sam walked over to the opened sewer drain, “I can’t believe he pulled an El Chapo.” Sam gazed down.

“I can.” Bucky said, annoyed, “come on.” Bucky started to walk out.

We wander the streets for a bit. Sam’s phone starts going off, and he picks it up quickly. Whoever is on the other end sounds panicked. By how quickly Sam is answering them, it’s pretty concerning to Bucky and I.

“”Pack an overnight bag, take the boys somewhere.”

“What’s going on?” Bucky asked, concerned.

Sam pulls the phone from his ear for a second, “Karli called my sister. She threatened my nephews,” he goes back to talking to Sarah, “wherever you go only pay cash. Let me know when you get there. I love you. You know I would never let anything happen to you or the boys. I’ll talk to you soon.”

I begin to panic about Jamie, and I can tell the same fear has rushed over Bucky. “I’ll call Miranda once we meet with Karli.”

“Maybe you should check on him now.” Bucky sounded worried, and I nodded.

Just as I went to call Miranda I got a text from her, “she just texted me saying that she is taking Jamie somewhere. She got a call, probably similar to Sarah.”

“Tell her to contact Sarah and meet up. That way they’re together, and safe.” Sam suggested.

“I agree.” I sent the sitter a text with Sarah’s contact information, and told her to stay with them till we get state side.

At that point Sam got a message with the coordinates we were to meet Karli, “she said come alone.”

“I’m going with you.” Bucky stated, rubbing my back to soothe me.

I nodded in agreement as we headed to suit up. We then headed to where Karli asked us to meet. It was in the same area where the gathering for Madani was, which made it easy for us I guess. We knew if she took off though, we wouldn’t be able to find her again.

“Karli!” Sam yelled, announcing our presence. She then peeked her head out, and we ascended the stairs nearby.

“You called my sister, and her babysitter. Is that how we’re going to play this?” Sam asked, angry as hell.

“I would never hurt them. I just wanted to understand the two of you better,” she looks over, seeing Bucky, “I see you, um, didn’t come alone.”

“You have to end this now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, either of you. You both are tools in the regimes I want to destroy. You’re not hiding behind a shield.” Karli started.

“Yeah Walker doesn’t exactly know how to properly fight it seems.” I chuckled, earring me a glare from Sam.

“If I were to kill you, it’d be meaningless. I was going to ask you to join me. Or do the world a favor and let me go.” Karli continued, practically begging.

Sam then looked down at his arm piece. He seemed to zoom in as panic sunk in his face. He then looked up and over to Bucky, “it’s Walker.”

Bucky jumped down, but Karli followed, and knocked him into a column. Sam and I jumped down after, so Karli didn’t hurt him. I ran over to help Bucky up as Sam and Karli fought. Once Bucky was on his feet, I helped Sam out by knocking her into one of the columns behind her.

“I’ll send you the two of you the coordinates, go.” Sam ordered before taking off.

Bucky and I took off after Karli. We chased her through the streets before she dipped back into the building. We went to head up the stairs, but Bucky was knocked down by one of the Flagsmashers. Bucky shoved them down the stairs, but they got right back up. He then kicked them into a wall, and they fell through.

We went back to chasing up the stairs after her. At the top of the stairs there was a doorway that led to a huge room. Sam and Walker were fighting off Flagsmashers left and right. I groaned knowing we had to help Walker. Bucky ran up and punched one in the face that was about to take Sam out from behind.

“You’re welcome.” Bucky said, going back to fighting.

I kept shoving them into each other, then pushing them towards Bucky or Sam to take care of. It was working well to start, then things went south when Lemar was kicked into column at full speed by Karli. He was dead on impact, though Walker begged for him not to be.

Sam, Bucky, and I took off after Karli. The chase led to the streets, and we were met with a horrible, gruesome scene. I tried to scream, but nothing came out. Steve’s shield was used as a weapon for the first time. I was disgusted, angry, and numb all at once. All I could do was cling to Bucky to keep me standing straight.

“What has he done?”

TAGLIST (OPEN):

@ginger-swag-rapunzel @soccer1000

#bucky x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #john walker #baron zemo #waiting for forever

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rockandroobuckaroll · 3 years

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Shyan Mafia AU - Chapter One

This is the first chapter of my first Shyan fic, so any comments/notes would be helpful. I'm currently waiting on an email from A03 to make a new account, so when it's up I'll start uploading this there too.

A couple people asked about this too being @watcher-savage and @celestial-e I apologise in advance for my inability to write chapters less than 5000 words haha

This is a mafia AU where Ryan is a newbie in the mob, looking to gain protection. He’s sent after a guy known only as ‘Legs’ to take care of business... only things aren’t so simple as that. Ryan must lure this ‘Legs’ guy out to some place quiet... but he’s not the only guy in town who’s after him.

Life hadn't been easy for Ryan Bergara. He'd been on his own most of his life, not many friends and he had no family that he was particularly close with. Ryan didn't know what had happened to his parents or younger brother, only that they were six feet under and not by natural causes. It had happened one night when he wasn't home, instead he was out partying with his old friends from college. He'd come home to a sight that caused many sleepless nights, a sight decorated with shades of red that he could never wash out of his clothes.

Ryan had been a paranoid man from that night onwards, afraid he was next on the list and he would be murdered some day soon. It lead him to lead a sheltered life, shut away from friends and remaining family. If he was on his own maybe people would forget he existed entirely. Being alone kept him alive, despite the loneliness it brought him.

It was this loneliness that eventually brought Ryan to a decision that would change his life forever.

Ryan needed protection and he craved a family like the one he used to know and love, and there was a way to kill two birds with one stone; he did have to admit he must have been crazy to come to the conclusion however. His dad was a wealthy, powerful man, he and his wife had ties to higher ups that they kept secret. Ryan knew they weren't just rumours made up by people in the street, after all he'd been at family dinners where strangers in sharp suits were invited, he'd overheard meetings and phone calls. It was certainly no secret to him that his family were part of the Californian Mafia.

During the day his dad was a humble dentist but by night he was out in a tailored suit, attending meetings and 'taking care of business'. Ryan's mom always joked that his dad was part of the men in black and that he used to go out and hunt aliens and as a child he had believed her. As he grew older and pieced together the truth Ryan thought it was pretty cool what his dad did, although that novelty came to an abrupt end the night they lost their lives.

It was a longshot, but he hoped that the men who used to come round his house for dinner would take him in, train him up, and give him the protection that he needed to sleep at night. He could be brave if he was in the mob, he had to be, and maybe he could finally get some sleep at night. If he couldn't all those years of shutting himself away would have been pointless and Ryan didn't ever want to admit that to himself.

That was how he found himself sat in a leather armchair in a small office, sat opposite a man he recognised from his youth. The man was much older now, hair grey and he wore glasses that weren't previously needed, but he still had the same believable kindness behind his eyes - though Ryan knew better than to trust that kindness.

"I'm glad you came to us Ricky, we can give you the protection you need." The elderly man sat behind the desk spoke, his voice smooth and soothing. He may not look it, but the man in front of him was the big boss of the Californian Mafia, overseeing the ins and outs of the entire organisation; he was known only as Father Thomas. He was a man no one wanted to cross.

"Um, my name is Ryan, sir." Ryan corrected him, realising afterwards that he probably should have known better. If the movies were anything to go off he shouldn't talk back to these kinds of people.

"Ryan, my child, you don't want to give out your identity to men who are going to use it against you. From now on if someone asks for your name, you tell them its Ricky: Ricky Goldsworth." The Father had a point, although Ryan assumed it would take him a while to get used to that alias - he would probably have to write it down. "You're new here and you want our protection... but not everything is free, Ricky."

"I'll do anything, sir." He was honest when he said 'anything'. Ryan wouldn't have resorted to the mafia if he wasn't willing to leave his old miserable life behind him.

Father Thomas leaned forward, elbows resting on the dark oak desk and his chin atop his interlaced fingers. "Anything?" He looked Ryan in his eyes, peering deep into his very soul. "Here's the thing, Ricky. I believe you when you say you'll do anything, I do... but I don't know if my good friends will be willing to back you up. So I've got a little job for you. It's a risky job, you'll be tested for sure, but if you pull it off I can make you very wealthy very quickly... and throw in a couple of trained assistants of mine to keep you safe at night." The Father leaned back again much to Ryan's relief and opened up one of the heavy looking drawers on the desk, pulling out a large, beige binder and flipping through before taking a page out.

The paper had a personal file, a photo attached with a paperclip at the top. There wasn't much known about him, no name to call him; only an alias was written down. "This here guy is a bit of a troublemaker for us. We've lost many good men to him, he's cunning and has a perfect record when it comes to his work."

"And you want me to..."

"To take care of business, yes." Ryan suddenly wasn't so sure. He picked up the photo of the man. He had dark hair slicked back and had a slender build. He was wearing a navy suit with a white shirt only half buttoned up and sunglasses covering his eyes. "We don't know all that much about this guy, only that he goes by the nickname 'Legs' and that he's extremely hard to catch. If you go after him your loyalty and dedication to us will be tested, naturally, as well as your skill and methods. I can't promise you'll ever come back though... so what's it going to be, Ricky?"

Ryan thought over carefully. He couldn't deny his heart was pounding so loud in his ears that Father Thomas could probably hear it, nor that his hands shook slightly as he held the photo. He was terrified of what this 'Legs' could do to him, or what he had done to others. He was also terrified of his own desperation. He was scared of how tired of being paranoid he was, how tired he was of being scared and alone. If things didn't work out and he ended up getting killed... would that really be so bad?

A snarky voice in the back of Ryan's mind told him he should have probably gone back to his therapist instead of paying the mob a visit, but it was far too late to listen to logic and reasoning now.

"Where was he last sighted?" Ryan bravely spoke up, gaining a small smile from the man in front of him. Ryan knew whichever way things went it would be a win-win for him - though deep down he had a feeling things were more realistically lose-lose, it wouldn't hurt to at least try.

"Yesterday in New Orleans, that's when that photo was taken." Ryan placed the photo down on the desk and looked over the rather empty file, he'd be going into this practically blind. "We've got an unused hotel in that area you can use to take care of him, one of my boys will give you the keys. We can get you a flight too, private of course."

"New Orleans..." It was a long way from home, although Ryan was almost glad of that. He'd only left his home state of California a few times and only ever as a child, on holidays and such. Hopefully leaving the state would do his mental health some good. "When's the flight?"

"We can get you in the air by six in the morning, you'll have all day to get your bearings and get to work." Ryan hadn't expected it to be so soon, although he supposed he didn't have to make up any excuses to anyone about where he was going. His job at the local theatre realistically wouldn't get him anywhere anyway and they could easily replace him in an instant. He had hoped one day to be making his own movies, or at the very least work on big productions, but it was a difficult industry to crack.

"Six AM..." He nodded to himself. "Okay... I'll do it."

Ryan was restless that evening, barely touching his bland microwave meal and constantly reorganising his suitcase, filling it with only the essentials and his best sneakers. He showered and sat on the edge of his bed beside his opened suitcase until early hours in the morning, going over what he had to do. The plan was relatively simple: find this 'Legs' guy, take him to the hotel and... it was the last step Ryan was having trouble coming to terms with. He knew he would have to kill some guy he had never met. He probably had a family, maybe a wife or a child - at the very least he probably lived alone with a cat. Could he really do that? Could he really take someone's life?

He had opened his laptop and looked at Google Maps for a solid hour, trying his best to memorise the streets of New Orleans, the routes he would have to take to get to the old hotel the mafia had given him the key for. He didn't know how he was even find 'Legs', New Orleans is a big city after all, though he had been tipped about a diner that the man had been seen frequenting over the past few weeks so hopefully that was a start. Part of him hoped he never ran into him and that he would just have to live a quiet life in Louisiana, surely the deep south couldn't be all bad.

Hoping that he had everything memorised, Ryan decided that there was no point in getting any sleep now, he could just hopefully sleep during the three hour flight. He changed into something that would make him look like he was going on a business trip, something the guys at the office had informed him would be his cover up. If anyone asked him he was taking care of the hotel to prepare it for new ownership, that was all they needed to know. He settled on a silver suit and with a black tie, hoping he didn't look too affiliated with any gang; he didn't want to go over the top and wear a fedora with sunglasses, that was way too cliché.

By four in the morning there was a knock on his door and before he knew it he was on a private jet making his way to New Orleans. Ryan watched as the sleepy city slowly awoke, the sun slowly making it's way above the horizon. It didn't take long for his lack of sleep to catch up with him and a few minutes of resting his eyes managed to turn into him sleeping through his short flight. The next thing he knew was that he was being prodded awake by the pilot.

The pilot in front of him was a, quite frankly, dodgy looking, slender individual. His dark hair was greasy and slicked back and his eyes were just as dark as his hair. His skin was tan with little blemishes on his sunken face and his nose was crooked, his teeth matching the nature of his nose and were in desperate need of a dentist. He wore a pinstripe suit, black with thin cream stripes, over-polished shiny black dress shoes and a cufflink shaped like a red dice adorned the white shirt that peaked out from his slightly short sleeves. He was almost the complete opposite of Father Thomas.

"We're here." He sounded just as slimy as he looked, Ryan couldn't believe he actually fell asleep knowing it was only the two of them on the plane; he would be sure to check for any scars when he was alone later on to see if he had any missing kidneys. "You know what you're doing, right?"

"Yeah." A simple yet effective lie.

"Good. Then get off my jet." He ushered Ryan and his luggage out, the poor man still half asleep and aching from sitting in one spot for three hours. "If you by some miracle get the job done give Father Thomas a call, I'll come back and fetch you. Good luck."

With that hurried goodbye, Ryan was left on his own in a city he didn't know. He knew he should have been nervous, probably terrified given what he was supposed to be doing there, yet the only thing he felt was hungry. He'd skipped breakfast and barely ate any of his dinner the night before. He decided the best thing to do was find somewhere to get a bite to eat and ask around for any clues where to find this 'Legs' guy; Father Thomas had informed him of the perfect place.

Diners were always a hit and miss experience, although the small building that had been recommended by Father Thomas seemed to house a semi-decent establishment. It had a pleasant scent of coffee and bacon, mixed with a hint of pine from the décor. It was cosy, welcoming and much to Ryan's relief: empty. Not to mention, apparently 'Legs' had been sighted coming in and out of there all week. It was the perfect spot to start looking.

He sat at one of the barstools and looked up at the menu, mouth already beginning to salivate at just the stock photos of the food they served. "Hiya, hon, what can I get you?" A young, blonde waitress appeared from the beaded curtains, a smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes; a symptom of an early shift in the quieter outskirts of the city.

"Hi, can I get a black coffee and some pancakes please." At this point Ryan would eat anything, even if it came out of the trash.

"Sure thing, hon." She scribbled down the order and took the payment before pouring Ryan his coffee from the glass pot. The first sip burned his tongue but it helped wake him up a little. A few minutes later the waitress returned with a plate of pancakes drizzled in maple syrup with bacon placed on top: it looked picturesque.

"Thank you." Ryan remembered the manners his mom had taught him many years ago before shoving far too much into his mouth, closing his eyes as he savoured his first mouthful. Before he could ask the woman about places of interest that may attract mob guys or murderers (or both) the bell on the door rang, meaning another customer had walked in. Ryan didn't turn around to meet them, instead taking another sip of his coffee.

The customer sat two seats away from him, the waitress smiling at him the same way she had at Ryan. "Hiya hon, the usual?"

"Yes please." The man spoke in a quiet but kind voice, although his accent stuck out to Ryan. It wasn't that it was a strong accent, quite the opposite actually. It certainly wasn't from around here. "Thank you."

The waitress disappeared back into the kitchen, leaving the two men in silence. Ryan took another sip of his coffee as the man tried to start up a conversation. "Pancakes? Now that's in poor taste. It's waffles all the way." Ryan almost spit out his coffee - not at the comment but at the man's appearance.

This was the guy from the photo: this was 'Legs'.

"You alright? Don't choke." He laughed at Ryan, his eyes crinkling up at the corners as he did. Ryan had to fight every instinct not to bolt out of the diner there and then. Here he was, trying to enjoy his breakfast and now all of a sudden he was having a conversation with a murderer... well, he would have to respond in order to have a conversation.

"Uh..." Ryan struggled to find the words to say. "Pancakes are way better." He settled on, 'Legs' shaking his head and turning back to the waitress as she brought him a plate of waffles before disappearing back into the kitchen. "Is that how you like to talk to strangers?"

"Oh, sorry..." He seemed to become shy all of a sudden as he realised his conversation starter had been a bit rude. "You don't sound like you're from around here. You here on business?" It was a fair question to someone who was dressed in a suit although Ryan could feel beads of sweat forming at the back of his neck. Did he know? Could this guy sniff out someone in the mob at a glance? He was a professional from what Ryan had heard, for all he knew the guy had spotted the plane landing and followed him there, planning to kill him behind the diner.

"Yeah... something like that." Ryan cleared his throat and steadied his hands on his coffee cup. They had begun to shake, betraying him when he needed to remain calm.

'Legs' hummed a response and begun digging into his waffles. Ryan needed to think quick. He needed a reason to keep him around, not let him out of his sight. The hotel key Father Thomas had given him felt like it was burning into his leg like a beating heart under the floorboards, reminding him of all his troubles. He was starting to panic already. He really wasn't cut out for this despite his efforts to try and convince himself otherwise. "Hey, don't mean to sound rude but are you alright? You don't look well all of a sudden."

"I'm fine." Ryan's voice shook. Shit. He couldn't afford a panic attack. "I just need some air." Ryan stood from his seat and rushed out the door, his knees feeling like jelly. He took in a few deep breaths as he leaned against the wall, hoping he was just far enough outside that 'Legs' couldn't see him. Fuck. If Ryan couldn't even sit next to the guy and have breakfast and a friendly chat how the hell was he supposed to lure the guy to some abandoned hotel and murder him in cold blood?

"You want me to ask the waitress for some water or something?" 'Legs' poked his head around the door, "You gonna hurl, dude?" 'Oh great', Ryan thought begrudgingly: 'of course he's a nice guy'. No, no he isn't, Ryan had to remind himself. This guy has killed people.

"I'm okay." Ryan kept lying to himself, lowering himself so he was crouching down, his back against the wall. 'Legs' crouched down next to him, his hand on his back to try and comfort him.

"Just breathe, yeah? You're alright." 'Legs' seemed to recognise the signs of an oncoming panic attack. "What's your name? Have you got someone I can call?" 'Stop being so fucking nice', Ryan internally groaned. He shook his head, closing his eyes and just focusing on his breathing. "Okay, I'll stay here with you. Talk you out of it... uh, well shit I can't think of anything to say." He chuckled in such a nonchalant way that made Ryan want to punch the guy.

"Pancakes are better." Ryan managed to mutter in between breaths, deciding to just say anything to change the subject and take his mind off his paranoia. 'Legs' wheezed at that, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You believe what you wanna believe, man." He adjusted his position so that he was sat down properly, legs crossed in front of him. "You're wrong, but hey, opinions and all that baloney."

Once Ryan felt like he was going to be okay, that he wasn't going to have a complete breakdown in front of his future murder victim he looked up to the sky, still avoiding looking at 'Legs'. "My name's Ricky by the way... Ricky Goldsworth." Ryan needed to try and make acquaintances with him while he could; it would hopefully make the upcoming murderous meet and greets less awkward.

"Goldsworth?" He seemed intrigued by that. "Cool name." Ryan was glad he hadn't just seen straight through him immediately. "Nice to meet you Ricky." He held out his hand to shake, Ryan took it and tried to keep his grip firm despite his hands still shaking. He also had to play it off like he hadn't noticed that 'Legs' had completely avoided telling him his name.

"Your breakfast is gonna go cold." Ryan told him to try and change the subject. "Mine too... let's go back inside."

"You alright to stand? You looked a bit wobbly on your feet just now." Ryan was tempted to just put a bullet in the guys head there and then and get his suffering over with. Of course he ended up with the crazed murderer who just happened to be a total sweetheart.

"I'm fine. Come on." Ryan pushed himself up and lead 'Legs' back inside, the two taking the seats they were previously in. Ryan's coffee was still pretty warm and his pancakes hadn't quite turned to soggy mush yet.

"Sorry if I said something to set you off, by the way. I didn't mean to freak you out." 'Legs' spoke in a hushed voice, as though he was trying not to induce more panic into Ryan.

"It's alright... it's been a long night. I'm just on edge I guess." Ryan took a bite of his breakfast, he wasn't that hungry anymore but he also knew he would regret it later if he didn't finish it. "It's not your fault." Ryan took another sip of coffee to wash it down.

"Well, I don't know if you're free sometime soon but there's a nice bar in town, I was planning on going out tonight if you wanted to join me." That was the second time 'Legs' had made him choke on his coffee. He hadn't expected to be asked out by the guy he was supposed to kill. "Uh, well, you don't have to if you don't want to!" He quickly gave Ryan the option to turn him down, his cheeks bright red and he couldn't meet his eyes.

This was perfect. 'Legs' had practically signed his own death warrant... granted that Ryan could actually pull the job off. Everything had fallen into place however, he would be an idiot to turn it down.

"That sounds... that sounds great actually." Ryan tried not to sound so relieved that he didn't have to make up some bullshit excuse to stalk this guy without it being weird.

"Really?" God, Ryan felt like such an asshole. He wasn't stupid, he knew what was happening. 'Legs' was showing interest, he was inviting him out and was shy when he asked the question. Now 'Legs' was feeling immense relief that Ryan had offered to spend the night getting to know him. He was leading him on and wouldn't even get the chance to let him down gently. "Shit, I didn't actually expect you to say yes! I mean, on my part even I can say this is bad timing!" He was giddy like a child, not helping the sinking feeling in Ryan's stomach.

"I'm always up for a good time." Ryan played along to the best of his ability. This guy was digging his own grave without Ryan even having to try, he didn't want to let the opportunity go to waste. "I've got to... there's this hotel I'm looking after at the moment. It's gonna be refurbished and I've got this job to basically check in and make sure none of the shit gets stolen. I can meet you after work if you want?"

"You're looking after a hotel? You're not gonna go all Jack Torrance on me and come after me with an axe, are you?" Even if it was a great movie he was referencing Ryan couldn't help but nervously chuckle at the irony.

"Wouldn't dream of it." 'Just drink your coffee and don't make eye contact Ryan', he thought to himself in desperation. He picked up his napkin and took a pen out of his blazer pocket. He'd childishly put it there in case he needed to go all spy-movie-action-scene and use the pen as a weapon, but he supposed using it for it's intended purpose would do for now. "Here's the address." Ryan had memorised it off by heart after fretting over his plans the night before. "Meet me about seven-ish?"

"Seven-ish." 'Legs' spoke aloud his mental note as he took the napkin and glanced at the address. "This isn't that far from the bar actually." That was lucky for Ryan, he wouldn't have to bring 'Legs' half way across the city just to kill him.

Ryan's plan was pretty simple, if not slightly manipulative - though he decided that if he was plotting to kill someone he would have to put his morals on the back bench for the time being. He would go out for a few drinks with 'Legs', get him to loosen up, bring him back to the hotel, lock the door so no one would accidentally wander in on his murder scene and then take care of him in the basement. One flaw he found with his plan was that he realised he still hadn't been told a name for his victim, not a nickname or initials: nothing. Ryan was starting to wonder if he was the one manipulating the situation, that he was the one in control... he had a feeling 'Legs' had his own ulterior motives behind inviting him out.

By the time seven rolled around Ryan almost felt sick with nerves. After preparing everything he needed in the hotel he was sat on the steps at the front door, staring at his blank phone screen in front of him to seem less conspicuous when he heard a call for his name - well, the name he had given out as a cover.

"Ricky?" Ryan looked up and smiled at the man before him. 'Legs' had changed out of the striped hoodie and jeans he wore that morning, he was wearing a dark blue shirt with red Hawaiian flowers on it which caught Ryan's attention. He'd never actually seen someone pull off a flower shirt like that and not look like a dad on vacation.

"Hey." Ryan stood up and climbed down the stairs, feeling slightly intimidated by the guy. He found it strange that he was wary of a paper thin guy in a flower shirt, but when put into the context that said guy towered over him in height he found himself feeling strangely inferior - that and he was a fucking murderer, Ryan had to keep reminding himself of that fact.

With a nervous breath 'Legs' gave a smile, "Shall we get going? The bar's down this way." Ryan smiled and nodded, following the taller man down the street

'Time to act your heart out' Ryan thought to himself, 'Play it cool, don't be suspicious'.

The bar was starting to fill with patrons though it didn't seem to be as busy as some of the others, Ryan was glad of that. The less people that saw him there the better. 'Legs' took the gentlemanly approach and offered to buy the first round, Ryan watching closely to make sure his drink hadn't been spiked before taking his first sip.

It had been a while since Ryan had been out like this, he had missed it if he was honest. The last time he was out drinking he... Ryan shook away the thought with a frown. He wouldn't think about that tonight, not now that he was about to cause someone else to find their family member brutally murdered.

'Legs' had noticed Ryan's frown and looked nervous, as though he was calculating the right thing to say. This night must have been important to him, he was trying so hard not to mess it up. Ryan felt immense guilt but knew he couldn't wallow in it all night. He needed the night to go well too, given that he needed to get him back to the hotel. He hoped it would be willing and not Ryan dragging him back kicking and screaming.

"Thanks for coming out tonight." 'Legs' started, talking over the music with his best efforts. "I mean, I really thought you were gonna turn me down."

"I needed something like this, I should be the one thanking you." Ryan wished he meant that, he wished he was just out on what felt like a date - it probably would have been considered one in Ryan's mind but 'Legs' still had neglected to give him a name. It was a sobering reminder that the man in front of him could very well have his own plans of murder. His nice guy act was so cliché anyway, serial killers were always known like that. It was the whole Norman Bates schtick, the type of guy who wouldn't hurt a fly, socially awkward yet charming. Ryan hoped he wouldn't get stabbed to death by this guy dressed as his mother later on, though it would certainly be an unexpected twist to his evening.

"Is it a tough life, looking after hotels I mean?" He asked, taking a sip of his drink, "Must get pretty lonely having all those rooms to yourself."

"Yeah... it can be." Ryan was used to loneliness, it was just part of his daily life by this point. He supposed if the whole hotel business was his real job he wouldn't think it any different to how he felt when he was sat at home on a Friday night watching movies all on his own rather than reuniting with his college friends and going out to get completely shitfaced. "What do you do, I don't think I asked?" Ryan hoped that question wouldn't scare him off.

"I, uh... I'm actually unemployed at the moment." He was avoiding eye contact again, Ryan knew he was lying anyway. "I'm here on a sort of midlife crisis, trying to see if I can make it on my own sorta thing... it's not going well." He laughed it off and took another, longer sip of his drink.

"You're on your own out here?" Interesting, that meant there would be no one around to search for him if he suddenly went missing. Ryan had interpreted him saying he was unemployed as he wasn't out on a job for the mob in New Orleans. He was just as alone out here as Ryan was. This whole situation just seemed so perfect, though he was wary of how careless it was on 'Legs' part.

"Yeah." Was his only response.

"You must be pretty lonely too then." Ryan didn't like to empathise with a killer, though he knew in just a few short hours he would be one himself. "Guess we can be lonely together." Ryan raised his glass, 'Legs' picking his own up and tapping it on Ryan's, the sound of the clink breaking through the music with ease.

Ryan had anticipated the night to go poorly. He had assumed he would be too nervous to drink or talk for half the night or perhaps for his date to figure out his true identity through some offhanded comment and ditch him or put a bullet between his eyes. What he hadn't expected however was to actually have a good time with him.

The two of them seemed to get along just fine, conversing in topics such as old shitty horror movies that were just charming enough to be enjoyable - or the ones that had practical effects so terrible they were actually hilarious to watch. 'Legs' had listened to Ryan ramble on about how much he loved Disneyland and hadn't been in years, in return Ryan tried his best to pay attention to some anecdotes 'Legs' had from an old D&D game he had played with his friends back in his hometown.

As the number of drinks piled up Ryan actually started to let his guard down, relaxing in his seat and laughing along at the dumb jokes 'Legs' cracked every other minute. He had to hand it to the guy: he was pretty funny. With his guard down he hadn't quite expected 'Legs' to smoothly place his hand over Ryan's as he was fidgeting with his glass, nor had he expected himself not to pull away quickly.

This was his chance.

"Hey... how about we drink up and get out of here, yeah?" Ryan suggested, 'Legs' quirking an eyebrow at him and downing the rest of his drink. "We can go back to the hotel I'm looking after, it's completely empty. It'll be just you and me."

"Lead the way."

The two of them headed out of the bar and into the cool night air, Ryan holding his hand and pulling him along through the crowd as to not lose him. The streets were bustling with the city's nightlife, the people passing them were either already drunk and loud or on their way to join in. Ryan really had missed this, the buzz of it all, but that wasn't what he was here to do, as much as he was hoping that maybe he could spend a couple nights with this guy, go out partying and make stupid decisions together. At the same time however, the last thing Ryan wanted to do was form an attachment; he was already getting dangerously close to that.

"Here we are." Ryan struggled to fit the key into the front door ten minutes later, mentally cursing to his past self for having one round too many. He hated that he'd actually had a good time with 'Legs' tonight. He hated how now it was over, now was the time where 'Legs' whole life was over. The price Ryan was paying to have protection didn't seem worth it all of a sudden, but he'd come this far... giving up now wouldn't sit right with him.

"Give me a room with a view, Goldsworth." 'Legs' put his hand on Ryan's hip, leaning into him and breathing against the back of his ear. It sent shivers down his spine. It took all he had not to throw his plans out the window and lead him to one of the rooms upstairs.

"Got a better idea." Ryan turned around to him. "You said you didn't want me to for obvious reasons... but what if I did go all 'Jack Torrance'? What I'm trying to say is I bet the basement is romantic as fuck." 'Legs' burst out laugh at that, his head dipping and eyes crinkling into thin lines as they had done many times that night.

"You know what? You've won me over." He let Ryan take him by the hand and guide him towards the heavy metal door that lead down a flight of stairs to a mostly empty room, just a boiler and some electronics that Ryan had no idea the purpose for - probably a fuse box or something. The only light in the room was a simple bulb hanging from a chord on the ceiling, fitting for a room that was soon to house a murder.

The second the door was closed behind 'Legs' Ryan struck out, grabbing the pole he had set out earlier when he was rehearsing this moment over and over again like some crazed fanatic and striking the taller man on the side of the head. It knocked him out in an instant, 'Legs' dropping like a sack of bricks and tumbling down the stairs. Ryan winced, it looked like it hurt. 'Forget your fucking morals, man, you're trying to kill him'. Ryan stared down at his unmoving body from atop the stairs, his breathing heavy in his chest. It was terrifying to him just how easy that was, how simple it had all been. This poor guy was just looking to have a good time and now he was getting murdered for it.

Acting quickly, just in case 'Legs' woke up half way through, Ryan rushed down the stairs and grabbed the chair and the rope had set aside, hauling up the man's deadweight and tying him to the chair. He inspected the wound on his head, blood pooling around the edges but not gushing down like he had imagined it would in his rehearsals.

"Okay... okay, right... what now?" Ryan frantically looked around the room as if looking for clues. "Oh, gun, right." Ryan took the gun he had concealed under the boiler, dusting it off and checking to see if it was loaded. "Right... now wait for him to wake up I guess."

Ryan took the spare chair he had previously placed in the basement just in case things escalated and he had to knock him out with a chair instead of the pole, lucky the craftwork had stayed in one piece. He sat opposite 'legs', hunching over slightly and looking at the gun in his hand. It rattled slightly as his hand shook, looking out of place in his grip. Ryan knew this wasn't right, he knew deep down that this was only going to make his life worse but he was in far too deep now for retrospective analysis.

"Stop shaking." He whispered to himself, using his free hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. He was panicking again. "Fuck..." He couldn't help but think about the last time he was panicking, crouched down outside the diner this morning. 'Legs' had been there for him then, a comforting presence that had managed to calm him down despite being the reason he was panicking in the first place. He felt like he needed that now.

As if on cue 'Legs' stirred, a faint groan escaping his lips as he struggled to find consciousness. He tilted his head up slowly with a wince, eyes squinting as he looked directly at Ryan. "Huh?" He struggled against the ropes he was tied to, looking at them in confusion as if he couldn't understand why he was now tied up. He seemed to wake up a little more after his brain tried to piece together what was going on, the tall man looking around with a pained expression before his eyes settled back on Ryan.

"Hey sleepyhead." Ryan stood up, putting his acting chops to best use. 'Whatever you say just make it intimidating' he repeated in his head like a mantra. "Have a nice nap?"

"Ricky?" 'Legs' sounded woozy, "What's going on... is this a kink thing or something? I'm not one to judge or anything but some consent would have been nice."

"Wha-" Ryan was baffled by the stupidity that had just come from this guy's mouth. A kink thing? This guy was a well known member of the mob who'd just been knocked out and tied to a chair in a basement like some sort of thriller movie cliché... and then he thought it was just that Ryan had a fucking kink? Not quite what Ryan had been expecting. "No, you idiot! I'm here to kill you!"

"Oh?" 'Legs' seemed to think that over for a minute before the somewhat humoured smile that had previously been on his face was wiped completely. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'." Ryan mimicked as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought this was going to be a lot harder but you just walked right into this... you didn't even question me wanting to take you into the basement! Are you really that dense?"

"In my defence you hit me on the head pretty fuckin' hard." He groaned, almost as if he was trying to get sympathy. Ryan wouldn't take the bait, even if he did sort of feel guilty about it.

"That was after I lured you all the way out here!" Ryan's voice rose in both volume and pitch, holding the gun out and aiming it at 'Legs' head. "I thought mob guys were supposed to be fuckin' smart!"

"Mob guys?" Everything slowly clicked into place for him, he looked almost disappointed, but what he was disappointed about Ryan wasn't so sure. Maybe in himself for being so naïve or perhaps in Ryan for leading him on the way he did to turn out to just be another in a long line of guys that had come after him. "Right, so you're here to kill me then?"

"Yeah, I said that already." Ryan was trying his very best to be patient and take into account the guy had only just woken up after he bashed him round the head with a metal pole. "You're a ballsy guy, I'll give you that. I mean, just going out and partying in New Orleans knowing the Californian mob is after you? I can't tell if it's bold or insane!"

"Well I'm not in California right now, am I? I didn't think they'd be dumb enough to come around here with how high the tensions are between them and the gangs here in Orleans." So he did have a bit of common sense, even if his logic had been flawed. "That and I wasn't expecting the good looking guy in the diner to be some fucking mafia hitman or whatever."

"You think I'm good looking- wait, no. You're not going to flirt your way out of this!" Ryan jabbed the gun in his direction as if to threaten him into shutting up but 'Legs' didn't seem all that phased that his life was in danger. 'Definitely insane' Ryan thought to himself as he glared down at him. Who the hell stays so calm in a situation like this? This guy really is Norman Bates reincarnate. "And I'm not a hitman, I'm part of the Cali mob!"

"You are, are you?" 'Legs' seemed sceptical. "You don't look the part. I mean, you're way too short for one and that tough guy act is fooling no one."

"Man, fuck you! Just because you're as tall as a fucking sasquatch doesn't mean I'm short! Oh my god I cannot believe I was actually considering throwing everything I worked for away and just fucking you instead!" Ryan was aware he was trying to rile him up on purpose, but god dammit it was working like a charm. "Are you forgetting I'm holding a fucking gun here? I'm going to kill you! You should be begging for your life right now!"

"Oh, no, please don't kill me Mr Goldsworth." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "Although, I mean, if you untie me I could pretend none of this even happened and we could just go upstairs and, y'know." He gave a conspicuous whistle rather than being as blunt as Ryan had been.

"You're insufferable." Ryan couldn't believe this was the same guy he went drinking with, the same guy he was starting to regret luring to the edge of town to kill. He was filled with enough aggression and adrenaline not to feel that regret anymore, but he still couldn't help noticing that his hand still shook slightly as he pointed the gun in 'Legs' face.

"I always thought you mobsters were supposed to be tough guys. You're shaking like a leaf." 'Legs' pointed out which only infuriated Ryan even more. "You really should work on controlling your emotions more, just shut 'em off, y'know?"

"Stop giving me fucking criticism!" Ryan growled, his fist balled at his side before he used it to steady his shaking hand. "I'm literally about to shoot you!"

"Well hurry up with it then, you're starting to look like some incompetent movie villain!" 'Legs' almost sounded bored, impatient even. Ryan figured the guy must be on some next level of crazy if he was practically begging the guy holding a gun to shoot him.

"Don't rush me!" Ryan clicked the safety off on his gun and held it against 'Legs' forehead, the taller man closed his mouth very quickly and his eyes opened wider. Ryan couldn't help but smirk at how quickly he turned his act around.

"Uh, Ricky?" 'Legs' sounded worried all of a sudden, a complete juxtaposition from how he was mere seconds ago.

"Oh, now you're afraid. Didn't take much for that tough guy act to fall through, did it?" Ryan felt proud in a way, proud that he'd actually succeeded in intimidating the guy. Maybe he had it in him after all? Maybe this whole time he had just been overreacting, overthinking. He had the guts to do this, all he had to do now was pull the trigger (after saying something badass like they did in the movies, of course) and it would be over.

"Ricky!" 'Legs' called out, an unmistakeable fear in his tone. "Look out, behind you!"

"Yeah, how stupid do you think I am?" Ryan scoffed, though his tune soon changed when he heard the sound of metal scraping along the floor behind him, something he imagined 'Legs' had heard before Ryan knocked him out earlier. He gasped, eyes widening as he remembered he forgot one crucial step in his plan: he forgot to lock the front door.

Before Ryan could even turn around and defend himself he felt something connect with his temple and the world turned to black in a terrifyingly quick instant.

So much for everything being too easy...

#shyan #mafia au #my work #enemies to lovers #kinda not at first but it gets there i promsie #also this is only the first chapter and its literally 7663 words long im so sorry #slow burn #they start off cute and then ryan does an oopsie #skeptic believer

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tilions · 3 years

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A long way from home

I always wanted to write something about Maglor's wife Cellin and how she goes searching for her husband. Daeron also made his way here and I'm not complaining. The relationship between him and Cellin can be interpreted however you want but I think of it as queerplatonic.

It had been her goal to find a lost, sad minstrel but as fate played out she ended up with the one she didn't go on a journey for. It was her first journey without any family or friends accompanying her and from the start it had seemed like it would be a lost cause to even go and search for him. Even her always optimistic father had said that such a search would be fruitless.

If someone doesn't want to be found, my dear it becomes an almost impossible task, he had said and smiled in her general direction.

She knew he wasn't just saying empty words but that he spoke from experience. When father said serious things like this he was always speaking from experience but Cellin was never brave enough to actually ask what had made him think that way. What had made him believe this was the way of things?

Now she looked in the direction where Daeron was waiting for her at the end of the pathway some people of the atani had made and wondered if her experience will be different from her father's.

Sure she hadn't found her husband - yet - but someone else whom her people had believed was lost forever.

Would she return with only Daeron in tow, the Sindar would probably praise her for bringing back their lost prince and maybe refrain from referring to her as the victim of her husband's wicked power, brainwashed and manipulated like they also did with Elrond whenever he spoke up in his father's behalf. Or rather done up until rather recently, since Cirdan had noticed it. And if there was one person in this world who could match the terrifying way in which Cellin's mother could show her disappointment, it was Cirdan.

Now the thing was that Cellin's didn't set out to find Daeron and she wouldn't return with only Daeron in tow. Even if everyone else would be overjoyed. Cellin's journey would have missed its purpose and she wasn't sure if she would ever find the courage to set out on another one ever again. She would always find something to do instead of traveling alone, no matter how much she yearned to see her husband again.

She was not an adventurer. Not in the sense in which they are portrayed in stories. She liked to travel in good company, with her family, their little caravan of wagons and a song on her lips, a known destination ahead and nothing to worry about except for the place they would rest at night. She was a comfortable person and she was wise enough to admit that. Her husband had known this too and never pushed her to do things she didn't want to do especially when it came to traveling.

Sure they had to pick up a more nomadic lifestyle halfway through the war but this had been a necessity not something Cellin could decide against. She could have decided against going on this journey and that's where the difference was.

The matter of choice.

She followed Daeron down the path further south, through the lands of those of the atani who not yet had discovered the wheel and who still lived in huts made of clay and dried grass. Those people watched them pass through their little settlements with wonder in their eyes, trading their knowledge of the land willingly for one of Daeron's songs or Cellin's handcrafted toys for their children.

Celllin could watch them for hours for they had not yet seen the terrors of the world and lived and thrived at their own pace, much like her own people had done according to legend.

Neither her nor Daeron spoke much with one another. Their travels were wrapped in silence, like they were strangers… which they weren't.

Cellin had been Daeron's friend when both of them had been children and they had done everything together, had shared secrets and made promises. Cellin was sure that if she hadn't met Maglor she would've ended up marrying Daeron, even if she wouldn't have loved him in the same way she loved her husband. And if she was being honest she still would marry him any day, not out of the same love that she felt for Maglor but out of a very similar feeling.

She didn't know if he felt the same way. He had always been incredibly difficult to read even during the time when they were the closest. But once again she was not brave enough to actually speak to him when the silence between them became too much for her, instead she would start humming some silly traveling song her father had made up of she would keep herself distracted by watching their surroundings with even more care than necessary.

She noticed the side glance he would give her but since he never said anything, Cellin assumed he just found it silly how she behaved.

Only very rarely would he join her in her silly songs and those were some of the most carefree times on their journey, reminding Cellin very much of her life before the War, before the Fall, before everything. Those moments never lasted long and she mourned them once they were over. The memory however she kept close to her heart, so that it could make the silence that would always follow again more bearable.

"We're coming closer to the shores," Daeron said one day when they once again left an atani village behind. "I can smell the salt of the sea."

"Can you?" Cellin wondered. "I didn't know that."

"Me neither," he replied and shrugged. "Father never allowed me to go near the shore and I never actively went there myself even after I left."

"It's… nice," Cellin said but tried not to think about the last time she had seen the sea, tainted red in the blood of yet another fight her father-in-law's path had caused his son's to take.

"So I have heard but there is even more. Some of the villagers spoke of a ghost that roams the black shores to the southwest, with a voice as enchanting as a siren - whatever that may be."

He didn't need to say more because Cellin knew what this could mean. She would've loved to cry out in joy.

"We shouldn't get our hopes up," Daeron said and put a hand on her shoulder. "Humans tell many tales and most of them prove to be quite untrue, they're not good at remembering history correctly."

"Every tale holds a bit of truth," Cellin shot back and Daeron just nodded.

Neither of them asked the other why they hadn't bothered looking near the sea in the first place, given that everything Cellin had heard always said that her husband was wandering the shorelines, but then again Cellin had never asked Daeron why he was helping her and Daeron had never asked Cellin what she actually was looking for. There was a silent understanding between them, that didn't need questions or answers.

They took the little they had and continued to travel, this time with a destination in mind and Cellin felt how this alone made her feel much more comfortable.

The closer they came to the shore, the more frequently they were plagued by storms and rain. Thunder would roar high in the clouds with the might of ten thousand lions and lightning would strike across the dark skies as bright as a star. They would huddle together under the cover of the trees, Daeron's large cloak covering their heads, shielding them from the cold, the rain, the lashing winds.

Still they didn't speak much but the silence between them was different now. Cellin couldn't put into words what had changed but she wouldn't dare to complain.

She would wait and listen to the thunder, the distant waves, the howling winds and Daeron's quiet breathing near her ear. And sometimes, sometimes there was something that sounded like a voice carried by the wind but each time she thought to hear it it would be swallowed by some other noise.

"It's not your imagination," Daeron would tell her, calmly stroking her shoulder. "I hear it too."

"Just like you can smell the salt?"

"Hm.." He replied and smiled faintly. "Just like I smell the salt. Come now the sky is clearing up. It is time to reach the shore."

Eventually they did so and it was as the villagers had told them. The sand upon these shores was a black as obsidian, as the darkest night under a starless sky but it was warm underneath their bare feet when they walked on it, following the distant voice even further south.

Cellin wondered which part of the world they had reached now and whether her husband would lead them to the end. How far would Lake Cuivienen be from where they were now? And would it be like her father and mother had told her? Should she ask Daeron if he wanted to go looking for it on their way back?

…

If he wanted to return with her and Maglor that was. She wasn't sure if he would. Maybe he preferred to travel like this? Was it possible that he only helped her find her husband and would leave them once they had done so?

The thought actually made her sad and before she knew it she was wiping tears off her cheeks. Tears that had somehow found their way from her eyes and didn't go unnoticed by her companion.

"He's not far, no need to cry now. You'll be able to go home with him soon enough."

But what about you?, she wanted to ask but her throat could produce no sound aside from ungly sobs. Won't you come with us? Will you leave us? Again?

He stroked her back and helped her silently through the avalanche of emotions that had overtaken her heart.

Eru, she loved him, as much as one could love their best friend, as much as one could love their family. She wouldn't want to go home without him, leave him. It would feel like leaving a part of her soul behind. She knew that feeling all too well, she had experienced it before and she didn't want to live through that pain again.

"You're not crying because you're happy to see him again?" Daeron asked.

"I… I am happy," Cellin replied when she found her voice again. "But I'm also sad because finding him would mean for you to leave us."

He remained silent then and in silence they continued to walk, towards the voice that was lamenting, only fueling the many feelings that were battling inside her chest with all the sadness told of.

Daeron's hand remained on her shoulder for the rest of this short way.

#maglor #daeron #oc cellin #maglor's wife #tolkien #silmarillion #silm fic #fic #my writing #tolkien elves #tolkien oc #my oc

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antihero-writings · 3 years

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Undead Memory (Ch1)

Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix) (Season 2)

Character Focus: Alucard

Summary: What happened during that month in which Alucard was alone in the castle?

Alucard dealing with the aftermath of S2, and trying to cope with the death—or, more accurately, the ghosts—of his parents.

Notes: First of all, spoilers for season 2!

Another Alucard-centric fic, but actually about the show this time!! Whoo!! I'm excited to finally start posting this one.

Believe it or not, I started this idea a while before S3 started, wanting to write something for the time after S2 of Alucard being alone in the castle. Then after S3 I wanted to write it both more and less XD The idea of Alucard seeing ghosts brought up at the end of S2 is an interesting one, and one I thought deserved more exploration. As well as just that month where he's alone being something interesting to write about.

This is one of those fics I wanted to post as a long one-shot, but ultimately got stuck and decided it would be better to break it up into chapters to make it more manageable for both reading and writing. I said it'd be 4 chapters above, but I'm not quite sure exactly how many it'll be. It just helps me to jot down a manageable ballpark number.

That being said, one of the reasons I hesitate to break things up into chapters, is because if people don't seem interested it severely inhibits my desire to keep writing that fic. So, it really does help my motivation a LOT when you comment and say you want to read more!! So just know that when you comment, you're helping more of this fic get written!!

Shoutout to @it-burns-when-i-pee for giving me the clock idea!

Chapter 1: Reminders

There were no graves. Dracula and Lisa didn’t get graves. The rest of the world would have said they didn’t deserve to rest in peace.

Antigone would say Polynices deserved to sing in Olympus all the same.

The only grave they got was a castle. And many would say it was better than most—that they’d take a castle over a headstone, a mausoleum, or the ground any day. They’d say a castle was a hell of a lot better than being dumped down the sewage grate.

And all that’s fair, but perhaps the bigger problem was this: there were no remains.

They both burned. One in holy fire, one in hell. (And who could say where they truly ended up, if there was a heaven and hell after all?)

All that was left of Lisa Tepes was a pile of charcoal on an altar to a priests own pride.

And all that was left of Vlad Tepes was a ring, and a soot stain on the carpet.

Most would say they got what they deserved; to die without chance at Olympus.

Adrian doesn’t know where to put his flowers.

Most children bury their parents eventually, but usually this is when they have children of their own to keep them company, and their parents have been bouncing grandchildren on their knees for at least a year or two, with white hair and crinkled smiles, barely able to walk, or see: sick and ready to greet the gods.

Adrian may look old enough to settle down, but he’s younger than most would surmise. And while he can certainly handle himself, he was not prepared for his parents to die within a year of each other…especially considering that the parent who was meant to be immortal died by his own hand.

He would have liked to have some respite in his own home.

But perhaps, more important than where to put flowers, there was most unfortunate side effect of the lack of remains, and the castle grave:

Ghosts.

And this isn’t the pearly white wraiths wandering around saying ‘boo’, or skulls that float about the head gnashing their teeth. Not even a chained apparition to remind one of their sins.

This is something much worse. Worse because they belong to the house’s owner. Worse because their true grave is his head.

—(And that place never rested)—

Their ghosts wander the castle, not just a graveyard. This castle seems to have an affinity for the undead.

Maybe not everyone could see them. He tries not to indulge the thought that maybe there’s nothing there at all, and they’re nothing more than undead memory.

Alucard has been seeing ghosts since the moment he was left alone in this place.

He’d rather have a grave to mourn them at, and converse with the memories, than watch their ghosts keep him up at night, unable to touch, or to talk to them.

He should remind himself to look up the definition of ‘torment’ later.

At first it was his father’s steps when he walked up the stairs. His mother’s smiles, his own young laughter when he sat in the study. When he sat at the table to eat, he watched the vampire king tossing a young boy into the air, both laughing like fairy wing beats, as Lisa watched on from the table. Alucard tried not to lose his appetite.

Then they were given voice: it was Father’s lessons when he looked for a book in the library. Mother’s stories as he sat reading, making him incapable of concentrating to his own book all the while. Baking cookies together in the kitchen. Father allowing him his first drink—(of wine or blood? Take a guess. He only needed one of them, after all)—as he walked through the cellar. Mother decorating the castle, making it look a little nicer, a little more alive. Not all of them were positive. Their arguing voices down the hallway. His own tears.

Father’s claws against his chest.

And he wouldn’t dare get close to that room. Because whenever he walks past the door, he can still hear his father speak to him like he did when he was still a child dressed in sunlight, and there was nothing but love.

Mother, father and…himself. As if he died long ago with them. As if the happy child he was within them is gone. As if he’s no longer the Adrian who sat with his parents, read with them, baked cookies, and laughed with them…but the Alucard who killed them.

And, well, maybe he didn’t kill his mother, but sometimes he didn’t know what else to think but to blame himself for the thought that he could have saved her.

And he did kill his father.

He still feels that stake in his hand when he walks by that room—(But it wasn’t a stake was it? It was the bedpost of his childhood bed, as if ripping his childhood at the seams and denying everything he was born as). He still feels its splinters in his fingers, the smell of pine, the feeling of it piercing his father’s chest, the way his heartbeat refused to stop—(he rested his head on his chest once, the constancy of the rhythm was comforting then). The warmth of his father’s blood draining over his fingers. The sound of his father’s ripping voice. The unearthly, ungodly howling of the souls trapped inside him—(was he really so bad?). He could still smell his flesh burning.

He still wakes up in the middle of the night with the image of his fathers face melting off its bones as it came closer to him, reaching out as if to to caress his son’s cheek, seared onto his eyes—(is this how Victor Frankenstein felt when the creature smiled at his window?)

But when the morning came, he took that ring and he wore it on a chain around his neck all the same, to remind him of a few things:

One: that love is one of those things that is free, but comes at a high price. If you take it lightly, it will leave you heavily.

Two, an addendum to one: that love is not soft. Love is not flowery words, or even the insatiable desires the romance novels say it is. Love is an insidious fire, when you have it, it rages, and you know what warmth is. When the fireplace is empty it aches, and when your heart breaks your chest gets cut on all the pieces. And underestimating it, calling it weakness, will always be your undoing.

Three—(one that was beginning to weigh heaviest): that living and immortality are not the same thing. Vlad may have been immortal, but he was only ever alive with Lisa.

Four: to always know where he came from…and where he didn’t want to end up.

Five, and final: that though he had saved lives, though it was noble, and the stories and songs would say he was brave, and though Trevor and Sypha would say it was for the greater good…he would always be the son who loved his father…and the son who drove the stake into his father’s heart.

All for love.

He can find respite from the memories sometimes. He finds himself spending too much time down in the Belmont hold, reading, organizing, putting away ancestors—(ancestors not of his, ones that didn’t come back). Learning, pursing his lip in disapproval, or laughing to himself at the thought of some of the things Trevor’s relatives did (making a mental note to use the story against Trevor when he next saw him). Thinking of his friends…and trying not to think of them, lest they become ghosts too.

He likes going out into the woods to get food, and water, and fresh air. He wavers there at times, wondering if maybe he could just… leave. He spends more time out there than is strictly necessary.

Sometimes he runs out into the woods—well, more precisely padding, cantering on paws—and other times flies—trying to make sure his tongue can taste freedom, and his wings can snare sunlight, before he turns back.

But he always has to return. Return to the stuffy, putrefied remains of the castle. The air where he hears his parents whisper sweet words that are gone, where memory reconstructed from fairy castles sweet worlds he’s ripped away.

Would it be so hard to just leave?

Surely we can let the poor wandering souls in the woods find refuge. It was a grave after all. Just let the lost rest against the headstones, though they know not whose skeletons lie beneath them.

He leans against Trevor’s tree, and sees a young boy playing on the branches—laughing, free—and smiles…before it becomes gasp and grimace, and he shakes his head, returning to the castle.

Not them too.

He thought he could take it. The grief. The ghosts. The wrath of the gods

But he can’t stay.

Not forever. That is to say, he can’t leave for long. Just to visit town, to see another person or two, to get out of his head, and pray the specters won’t follow him.

He slings his bag over his shoulder, along with the coat he always wore—the one that smells like the campfires he sat at with Trevor and Sypha—and sighs as he walks out the door.

He has another grave to visit.

#castlevania #netflix castlevania #castlevania fanfiction #castlevania fanfic #castlevania fic #castlevania netflix #alucard #alucard castlevania #castlevania alucard #adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes #castlevania season 2 #dracula #Lisa Tepes #Vlad Tepes #Vlad Dracula Tepes #castlevania fandom

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andromeda3116 · 3 years

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so like i said i would do no more explaining but i was kinda jokey with that post when actually no i legit did put thought and purpose into this kanej playlist, so here’s a breakdown of the songs on it and which lyric(s)/to whom it applies. some of them, again, are more about the general vibe, but mostly there’s like. an actual reason i picked these songs.

kaz.

o. (not on spotify) the sewers belch me up, the heavens spit me out, from ethers tragic i am born again. [...] is it bright where you are? have the people changed? does it make you happy you're so strange? and in your darkest hour, i hold secrets' flame. you can watch the world devoured in its pain. --the end is the beginning is the end

i. god money, i’ll do anything for you. god money, just tell me what you want me to. god money, nail me up against the wall. god money, don't want everything, he wants it all. no, you can’t take it, no you can't take it, no, you can’t take that away from me. head like a hole, black as your soul, i'd rather die than give you control. bow down before the one you serve, you’re going to get what you deserve.

ii. there’s a shadow just behind me, shrouding every step i take, making every promise empty, pointing every finger at me. [...] i am just a worthless liar, i am just an imbecile. i will only complicate you. trust in me and fall as well. [...] why can we not be sober, i just want to start this over.

iii. i’d walk to you through rings of fire, and never let you know the way i feel. under skin is where i hide the love that always gets me on my knees. [...] i want it now, i want it now. don’t tell me that my ship is coming in. --nothing lasts forever

iv. one: take control of me, you’re messing with the enemy. said it’s two: it’s another trick, you’re messing with my mind. [...] there it goes again, take me to the edge again. all i got is a dirty trick, i’m chasing down the wolves to save you. i tell you i want you, i tell you i need you. the blood on my face, i just wanted you near me. --club foot

v. don’t waste your touch, you won’t feel anything. or were you sent to save me? i’ve thought too much, you won’t find anything worthy of redeeming. [...] reach out and you may take my heart away. --the leaving song, part two

vi. while i waited, i was wasting away, hope was wasting away, faith was wasting away, i was wasting away. [...] inside a crumbling effigy, but you promised. so dies all innocence, but you promised me. --the great disappointment

vii. welcome to the end of eras, ice has melted back to life, done my time and served my sentence, dress me up and watch me die. if it feels good, tastes good, it must be mine. dynasty decapitated, you just might see a ghost tonight. [...] the crown. so close i could taste it, i see what’s mine and take it. --the emperor’s new clothes

viii. all my friends were glorious, tonight we are victorious. [...] i’m a killing spree in white, eyes like broken christmas lights. my touch is black and poisonous. [...] throw the bait, catch the shark, bleed the water red. fifty words for murder, and i’m every one of them.

ix. just like romantic verses, just like a joyous end, just like a memory, it twists me. you land as lightly as the new snow onto the melting boy. you land as gently, you’re so cinematic, bathed in your radiance, i melt. --this celluloid dream

x. i’ll describe the way i feel: weeping wounds that never heal. can this savior be for real, or are you just my seventh seal? no hesitation, no delay, you come on just like special k, now you’re back, the dope demand, i’m on sinking sand. [...] i’ll describe the way i feel: you’re my new achilles heel.

xi. i choose to live and to grow, take and give and to move, learn and love and to cry, kill and die and to be paranoid and to lie, hate and fear and to do what it takes to move through. i choose to live and to lie, kill and give and to die, learn and love and to do what it takes to step through. [...] i’ve been crawling on my belly, clearing out what could have been. --forty-six and two

xii. do you listen to yourself? never live for someone else. do you like the way you feel? nothing hurts when no one’s real. [...] i wanna bullet-proof your soul, would you like to lose control? i won’t let you fall until you tell me so. [...] should have listened when you called my name.

xiii. you have forsaken all the love you’ve taken, sleeping on a razor, there’s nowhere left to fall. your body’s aching, every bone is breaking, nothing seems to shake it, it just keeps holding on. [...] i thread the needle through, you beat the devil’s tattoo.

xiv. i’m insane, but on my toes. i can keep the world balanced on my nose. i had a slumber party with all my foes, now i wear ‘em like a badge of honor on my clothes. if i’m crazy, i’m on my own. if i’m waiting, it’s on my throne. [...] can’t stop me now, i said i got you now. i’m right here at your door, i won’t leave, i want more. --what’s up, danger?

xv. the world is a vampire sent to drain, secret destroyers hold you up to the flames. and what do i get for my pain? betrayed desires and a piece of the game. [...] despite all my rage, i am still just a rat in a cage. --bullet with butterfly wings

xvi. can’t you see i’m sorry? i will make it worth your while. i’m made of dead men’s money, you can see it in my smile. oh, lazarus, how did your debt get paid? [...] when the fires, when the fires are consuming you, and your sacred stars won’t be guiding you, i’ve got blood, i’ve got blood on my name.

xvii. “oh don’t talk of love,” the shadows purr, murmuring me away from you. “don’t talk of worlds that never were, the end is all that’s ever true.” [...] every night i burn, every night i scream your name.

xviii. my heart’s a tart, your body’s rent, my body’s broken, yours is bent. carve your name into my arm, instead of stressed, i lie here charmed. [...] like the naked leads the blind, i know i’m selfish, i’m unkind. sucker love, i always find someone to bruise and leave behind. --every you, every me

xix. it don’t matter, i won’t do what you say. you’ve got the money and the power, i won’t go your way. i can’t take for the people, they don’t matter at all. i’ll be waiting in the shadows, until the day that you fall. [...] kill me if you dare, hold my head up everywhere. --underdog

inej.

i. i’m a princess cut from marble, smoother than a storm, and the scars that mark my body, they’re silver and gold. my blood is a flood of rubies, precious stones, it keeps my veins hot, the fire’s found a home in me. [...] and i’m locking up everyone who ever laid a finger on me. i’m done with it, oh, this is the start of how it all ends. --yellow flicker beat

ii. just how deep do you believe? will you bite the hand that feeds? will you chew until it bleeds? can you get up off your knees? are you brave enough to see? do you wanna change it?

iii. i know it’s a lie, i want it to be true. the rest of the ride is riding on you. [...] wishing you could keep me closer, i’m a lazy dancer, when you move i move with you. --collect call

iv. don’t look ahead, there’s stormy weather, another roadblock in our way. but if we go, we go together, our hands are tied here if we stay. oh, we said our dreams would carry us and if they don’t fly, we will run. now we push right past to find out how to win what they all lost. oh, we know that we want more, oh, the life we’re fighting for. [...] there are no rules that we can’t break. --disparate youth

v. as i move my feet towards your body, i can hear this beat, it fills my head up and gets louder and louder. i run to the river and dive straight in. i pray that the water will drown out the din. [...] there’s a drumming noise inside my head and it starts when you’re around. --drumming song

vi. shoot me down, but i get up. i’m bulletproof, nothing to lose. fire away, fire away. ricochet, you take your aim. fire away, fire away. shoot me down, but i won’t fall, i am titanium.

vii. you’ve been walking, you’ve been hiding, and you look half-dead half the time. monitoring you, like machines do, you’ve still got it, i’m just keeping an eye. you say too late to start, with your heart in a headlock. i don’t believe any of it.

viii. i’m in need of a savior, but i’m not asking for favors. my whole life i’ve felt like a burden, i think too much and i hate it. i’m so used to being in the wrong, i’m tired of caring. loving never gave me a home, so i’ll sit here in the silence. i found peace in your violence, can’t tell me there’s no point in trying. i’m at one, and i’ve been quiet for too long.

ix. i am running, i will meet you halfway. when i get there, will you be waiting for me? and i’m scared that you don’t feel the same. and after all, just how much can i take? heaven help me, i think i’m in love, i’m all in love with you. ‘cause i can’t help myself, i’m falling down, i’m falling hard for you.

x. i never promised you an open heart or charity, i never wanted to abuse your imagination. i come with knives, i come with knives and agony to love you.

xi. stooped down and out, you got me beggin’ for thread to sew this hole up that you ripped it my head. stupidly think you had it under control. strapped down to something you don’t understand, don’t know what you were getting yourself into. you should have known, secretly i think you knew.

xii. go row the boat to safer grounds, but don’t you know? we’re stronger now. my heart still beats, and my skin still feels. my lungs still breathe, my mind still fears. but we’re running out of time, all the echoes in my mind cry. there’s blood on your lies, the scars open wide. there is nowhere for you to hide, the hunter’s moon is shining. i’m running with the wolves tonight.

xiii. a falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes. i screamed aloud as it tore through them and now it’s left me blind. the stars, the moon, they have all been blown out, you’ve left me in the dark. no dawn, no day, i’m always in this twilight, in the shadow of your heart. [...] i took the stars from my eyes and then i made a map, i knew that somehow i could find the way back. then i heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness, too. so i stayed in the darkness with you. --cosmic love

both/and.

i. shed a tear for each soul set free, but that’s what happens when you dance with me. pity the man who stands in my way, i’m a nightmare even in the day. i’d be wise with which words you say, ‘cause they could be the last breath you take. [...] call me a criminal, maybe, baby, i’m an outlaw. you know, i ain’t evil but i ain’t a saint.

ii. it’s my own design, it’s my own remorse. help me to decide. help me make the most of freedom, and of pleasure. nothing ever lasts forever. everybody wants to rule the world. there’s a room where the light won’t find you, holding hands while the walls come tumbling down. when they do i’ll be right behind you.

iii. i know you’ve suffered, but i don’t want you to hide. [...] i want to reconcile the violence in your heart, i want to recognize your beauty’s not just a mask. i want to exorcise the demons from your past. i want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.

iv. you mean that much to me and it’s hard to show. gets hectic inside of me when you go. can i confess these things to you? well, i don’t know. embedded in my chest and it hurts to hold. i couldn’t spill my heart, my eyes gleam looking in from the dark. i walk out in stormy weather, hold my words, keep us together. steady walking but bound to trip, should release but just tighten my grip. night time, sympathize, i’ve been working on white lies. so i’ll tell the truth.

v. i, i came here in day, but i left here in darkness and found you, found you on the way. [...] your sins into me, oh my beautiful one. --silver and cold

vi. you wanna make me bad, make me bad. you wanna pay me back, pay me back. baby, it’s violence, violence. [...] but i like it like that.

vii. hey, baby, can you bleed like me? oh, come on baby, can you bleed like me? you should see my scars.

viii. i’m giving you a night call, to tell you how i feel. i’m gonna show you where it’s dark but have no fear. [...] there’s something inside you, it’s hard to explain. they’re talking about you, boy, but you’re still the same.

ix. you don’t wanna hurt me, but see how deep the bullet lies. unaware that i’m tearing you asunder, and there’s a thunder in our hearts, baby. so much hate for the ones we love, tell me we both matter, don’t we? [...] come on baby, come on, come on darling, let me steal this moment from you now. --running up that hill

x. feel my heart burning, deep inside, yearning. i know it is coming. a fettered heart, waking. tainted youth, fading. leave it all behind. delirious again, mesmerize my senses, souls entwine one more time.

xi. there is love in your body but you can’t get it out, it gets stuck in your head, won’t come out of your mouth. sticks to your tongue and it shows on your face, that the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste. darling heart, i loved you from the start, but you'll never know what a fool i have been. darling heart, i loved you from the start, but that’s no excuse for the state i am in. --hardest of hearts

xii. it’s fire, it’s freedom, it’s flooding open. it’s the preacher and the pulpit and your blind devotion. there’s something breaking at the brick of every wall, it’s holding all that you know. so tell me do you wanna go? where it’s covered in all the colored lights, where the runaways are running the nights. impossible comes true, it’s taking over you. [...] where the lost get found and we crown ‘em the circus king. --the greatest show

xiii. but if you’re troubled and hurt, what you got under your shirt will make them pay for the things they did. they said now, teenagers scare the living shit out of me. they could care less, as long as someone will bleed. so darken your clothes and strike a violent pose, maybe they’ll leave you alone, but not me.

xiv. we are ready for the siege, we are armed up to the teeth. be careful how you live and breathe, release what’s broken underneath. how many times do you wanna die? how many ways do you wanna die? [...] you used to do a little but a little won’t fly, right before you hit your prime. that’s where we fell in love but not the first time. --the royal we

xv. and how can we win, when fools can be kings? don’t waste your time, or time will waste you. no one’s gonna take me alive. the time has come to make things right. you and i must fight for our rights, you and i must fight to survive. --knights of cydonia

xvi. look at me go, look at me high and low, look at me picking myself back up from the underground. i’ve died a few times before, i know what it’s like when i can’t see the light, i find a light of my own. [...] we were born alone, and we die alone. what a way to go, now i’m on my own. but i’m not sorry, no.

xvii. broken people, hollow and feeble, they’re rolling, rolling up the hill. [...] breaking in, in, in my eyes, i can’t see like this. i can’t let go, please help me down, i can’t be like this. --sweet

xviii. prey on the powerful, masters of the game, we run with wolves in the shadows, we chase ‘em down ‘til we’re face to face. [...] it’s in our blood, in our blood, in our veins. this is the world we made.

xix. and our lives are forever changed, we will never be the same. the more you change the less you feel. believe, believe in me. believe, believe that life can change, that you’re not stuck in vain. we’re not the same, we’re different tonight. [...] we’ll make things right, we’ll feel it all tonight. we’ll find a way to offer up the night tonight, the indescribable moments of your life, tonight. the impossible is possible tonight. believe in me as i believe in you, tonight.

#kanej #six of crows #listen i stand by my former statement that modern!kaz would be a *huge* fan of nine inch nails #although i will hear arguments for tool #he'd be into like old-school throwback industrial and goth rock #i mean. the barely-restrained rage of some of that genre? he'd be here for it #modern!inej is more of a fan of it than you'd expect but still not like. going to shows or anything #(she really *feels* the rage anthems)#that said #considering how kaz's memory works you know he gets songs stuck in his head like nobody's business #so anytime he annoys her she starts singing like. mamma mia.#if she's *really* annoyed she'll get the dj at the crow club to play abba albums until he apologizes #entirely against his will kaz knows all the lyrics to abba's entire discography because inej is 100% not going to stop the dancing queen #until he's apologized and she doesn't care how much swedish bubblegum pop she has to listen to #this is the one game he cannot win #once the marimbas start it's over. he has lost. the argument is done. it's just a matter of how long it'll take him to admit it.#inadvertently allowing inej to discover his hatred of abba is up there among the biggest mistakes of his entire life #shit i actually didn't mean to post this but like now that i have i guess here it is?#welp.

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