#cap watches love syndrome

[sunshinechay]

So I watched the Love Syndrome movie and honestly it wasn’t terrible but it also wasn’t good either.

Honestly it felt like half the movie was missing and was also to be continued. I’m pretty sure I only understand what was going on because I’ve read the book it’s based on (Night and Gear’s prequel book). If I hadn’t I think I would have been completely lost.

It was a very nice looking movie if nothing else so there is that.

Though fun fact, I chatted with @zhaozi about it a little bit and they pointed out that the actor who plays Day in this version is the same actor who played the bar patron/shop customer that flirts with Itt in Love Syndrome III so that made it a little amusing to watch. Guess he really did get to be with Itt after all 😂

There is a massive trigger warning on the film for sexual assault. Particularly between 23:43 and 29:50 (and especially between 28:04 and 29:50) so proceed with caution if you do decide to watch it.

Ultimately it’s not a bad way to waste an 1.5 hours but it’s not a good way either. I think I’ll stick to Unforgotten Night and Love Syndrome III though. At least if/until the next movie comes out to complete this one. I’ll probably watch that one too because I am attached to these characters now, for better or for worse.

[tobiotetsu]

the beast’s beauty

fushiguro toji x f!reader

description: because of your father's mistake, the infamous toji zenin forced you into imprisonment in order to pay his debt. however, what you never expected was to fall in love with the monster he was.

genre: angst, historical au, 18+, mini series

warnings/tags: explicit smut(vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, ) violence, mentions of stockholm syndrome & misogyny, blackmail, character injury, blood, profanity, mdni, grammar mistakes

a/n: to welcome our fav dilf to the jjk screen, here's a little beauty and the best retelling for toji:) reblogs are truly appreciated <3 (taglist: open) (wc:1k)

general masterlist

part one ♕ part two ♕ part three ♕ part four ♕ part five

You never enjoyed the company your father kept. Drunks, assassins, mobsters, gamblers. You would always find yourself pulling him out of taverns in the early hours of 2 to 4 am. Usually, fear would course through women’s veins if they had to enter an establishment of this kind however, that wasn't your case. You were predisposed to bars, and whore houses since you were 10.

Now here, age 22 as you make your way through the liveliest bar in town. The air stank of beer and fresh cigarettes; a smell that you've grown more than used to. Your upbringing was merited to being the only daughter of a single father. Your mother died in childbirth and your father never chose to remarry. When you were younger you thought of it as romantic, but as time went on you saw it for what it really was.

He gained a free pass to hoard whores. Your house doors welcomed a new woman every week. The most motherly advice you gained was how to seduce a man and how to keep your tits perky.

The bar was more full than it usually was. Sweaty bodies stood, all facing the same direction. A poker game was at play. By the looks of the chips stacked in the center, it looked rather intense. Your feet began to move faster as a small anxious feeling nipped at your stomach. Shoving arms and legs, you squeeze into the front of the table.

Two men were sitting at opposite ends of the table. The left side of the table was far more crowded than the right. Women were draped over the man who was seated. A hand covered the majority of his face so all that was in view were his eyes. Dark green eyes shined brightly, even though the mess of dark hair was in front of it.

‘He looked focused’ you thought. He stared ahead, not giving any attention to the women around him. You could see why they were all interested in him. Physically, he was very attractive. His legs were spread out under the table, arms crossed and sat straight. His shirt fit on his body like a glove. His shoulders, chest, and even the muscles on his torso were visible through the cloth.

Before you could notice anything a familiar voice caught your attention. At the other end of the table, you see a familiar ratted navy coat. With a far lonelier crowd, your father was squinting at the four cards in his palm.

“All in” he shouted as he pushed all his chips closer to the dark-haired man.

“Dad!” you jumped to him, clasping your hand on his wrist. As you opened your mouth to protest, a deep voice intercepted.

“Sorry, cap.” was all the man said as he displayed his cards. The faces and noise around you felt dull. Muffled voices and blurry vision were all you had as you watched your father’s cards get trumped by a royal flush.

“How much money did you bet, Dad?” The urgency in your voice was a cover for the panic. He had no money. Whatever money he did earn at his sales job was put towards the tavern and prostitutes. Whatever was left was the sum you had earned at the library.

“Sweet pea, I-I messed up,” there was a shake in your father's voice. One that you had never heard before. “It wasn’t money. Gu- I need to get”

You couldn't understand the slurred speech your father spewed.

“Gu? What are you saying, Dad?” you held your father steady near the back entrance of the building.

“Guns” your body jumped at the sound of another voice joining your conversation. You spun around to be faced with familiar eyes. They look much darker at night. The only thing illuminating the scene was a candle hanging beside the door in between you two.

“He didn’t bet money. Your father owes me guns.”

Your eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

He must be confused with someone else.

In an effort to clear your father's name you turn to him for reassurance, but all you are met with is disappointment.

“Mmm sorry. I sold the guns and I didn’t have anything else to give” Your father's voice fell flat.

“Dad, What are you talking about? Why do you have guns? What are you in?” your hands grasp his arms and shake his drunk body hoping to shake the truth out of him.”

“Your father works for my business. And he fucked up and sold my guns for bitch money.” the man said. His head tilted to the right, allowing for his face to be seen. The first thing you saw was a scar that ran through the right corner of his mouth. He was taller than you assumed he was. As he inched towards you his size grew.

“What do you want?” your voice dripped in fear.

“Well, your father here, he bet me something to act as a placeholder, till I get my guns.” he fished in his pockets as he spoke those chilling words. He retrieved a small syringe from his pocket.

Your worried eyes turned to your father but before you could protest, rough hands brushed your lips, pressing your mouth shut. You felt your skin break as a cool needle was stuck in your neck. Tears welled up in your eyes as your fear was confirmed.

You felt your own body turning into mush, your muscles stopped protesting the man's actions and started to skin into him. Your back hit his chest and your head rolled onto his shoulder. With what little power you had you flailed your limbs, but all of your efforts were met with failure.

You couldn't hear anymore, couldn't distinguish voices. Couldn't yell and scream at your father for pimping you like a whore to a beast. You didn't know whose voice it was but you were hoping their word was true, as those were the last words that you heard before you blacked out.

“I'll take care of you, I promise.”

[ jjk gen taglist: @meepmoop12w @thepsychicartist ]

[bunnycat4]

hobby ideas!

these are some fun ideas of things to do. I would like to do a little reminder at the beginning that if you want to start doing anything, or want to try something, that it doesn't mean you have to like it. you are allowed to try to pick up a hobby, but then decide it's not for you, and you don't want to do it anymore. then you can drop it! that's all cool! and that, it's something I often find, that if I'm not as good at something as people I see, I feel as though I don't deserve to do it- if that makes sense. [I think it's called imposter syndrome. unsure.] but that's not true! and we have to remind ourselves that something we do for fun needn't carry any pressure to it. there is no need to get to a certain level or certain achievement in anything if you don't want to. there aren't rules to enjoying anything! so, if you're bored or want something to do. I make a list of potential

the list starts with things I do, and then I will go through activities I may not actively participate in

of course the first thing I will say is beading. I love beading and if you don't get too excessive with it, it can be quite cheap. I use pony beads, and I like elastic string, but it isn't a necessity. you can get supplies at most dollar shops or art stores I would say. beading is my main interest/hobby, so if you have any questions I am. very enthusiastic and open :]]

review writing is also something you can do. I do it in a notebook or in Google Keep or the Notes app, but I think you can do that anywhere really. you can watch movies or shows or read books and review them on what you think, even analyse it a little if you want. or you can review products if you want. I think it's fun to do, and I pretend I'm telling someone or putting it in the newspaper.

you can also do other types of writing, like poetry or story writing. fanfiction is always an option. vignettes are also a pretty easy thing to do i think. fake news articles. honestly you can write about anything.

origami. im not the best at origami, i can only fold really simple things but all you'd need is paper. If you want to be fancy you can get patterned origami paper in different sizes, but otherwise you can cut anything into a square and fold stuff

fanart forever ✨ i draw a lot of fanart when i cant think of any original stuff to draw. just draw little guys a lot. i find it fun to imagine animal characters as more humanoid.

playing games, either board/card games [i am a board game and card game enthusiast, i would love to talk about them] or online games. it's a fun thing to do and you can get your friends/family involved, or not.

trying recipes is also a fun thing to do. I am notoriously a bad cook but that does not stop me :D I like to try recipes from magazines. This may be a more costly thing to do, check what you have in your cupboard. if you like your neighbours enough you can give them things you make to get on their good side

experiment with makeup. with a cheap eyeliner you can do quite a lot of funky things. try out different styles and shapes, follow tutorials, copy references, etc. if you have sensitive skin you may have to be choosy with what products you buy, and it may take a while to find something that doesn't irritate you. also, would recommend using makeup remover before you go to bed, or whenever you want to take it off

doing your nails. this is another expensive one, i think. nail polish costs a fair bit if you want to get different colours, but its a fun thing to do if your bored. im not sure if the chemicals in nail polish actually matters so i cannot advise on that, but i usually pick up a bottle from the health food store whenever im there.

paint anything. you could paint pictures or buy those things from art stores or bunnings that you can paint. I like painting coasters. you could also paint bottle caps and stick safety pins on the back to make little badges

make/decorate hair clips/pins/headbands. These things are pretty cheap i think, and you might be likely to have some lying around in your home. decorate by sticking stuff on them, like little toys or beads and other things you find

clay. im unsure about the actual price of clay. but you can do quite a few things with it. you can buy airdrying clay from department stores, it takes a couple of days to dry in my experience

loom bands. they are selling them again and they are pretty easy to do. you can spend days on end making them. there are many possibilities

knitting or crocheting. I can actually only french knit but i am learning to crochet. wool 👍 and whatever tools you need

journalling. I'm not sure if that counts as a hobby but i think its good. there are a few different types of journalling and you can find prompts. i have some journalling stuff from my therapist [you do not need to be mentally ill to journal. to clarify.] which i can share if anyone wants? but its fun to talk to yourself and feel more useful for it. just talk about anything

ah, another jewellery making thing. i should have organised this list better. I might redo it later. but you can make woven friendship bracelets by tying little knots and stuff in embroidery thread

you could also do embroidery with said embroidery thread. I dont really remember how to do it anymore but i could ask my friends. Yeah.

paper filigree. I tried this one time and never finished it. probably start by buying a kit. it looks pretty cool

customising clothes, if you have clothes you want to do that with. You could embroider on them or sew little cutouts of fabric on. tie-dye is also something you can do. unsure of how expensive that is.

making pom-poms! you can make them out of wool and a fork and scissors. also stick googly eyes on them to make lil soot sprites :33 which is cute. and hang them on your bags maybe

collaging, maybe. Cut up magazines and stuff, and glue

does going on walks count as a hobby? sometimes i do that when im bored. just walk to a park or a trainstation or anything nearby, or just in a circle. and talk to myself or listen to music or make up stuff about the houses around me, maybe talk to dogs/neighbours.

make flower crowns or clover crowns

make playlists! making playlists is really easy and you can make them for pretty much anything. i make playlists for incredibly specific situations and also for every month of every year. Its a greaaat way to keep track of your mental state as time goes on and ensure you dont get bored of your music. since you'll have loads of playlists. You can also make character playlists and oc playlists and playlists for everyone you know that you'd never show to them.

joining a club is definitely not a hobby but is something you can do for fun. and you get to talk to people which i know gives me a sense of achievement. and you can always drop out after one day 👍

make edits of characters, if that makes sense. like, play songs behind them and cover them in sparkles or something

colouring in, that's a good thing if you dont want to draw. you can buy a colouring book or download and print off of the internet. there are a lot of options in colouring in

gardening as well. you dont necessarily have to plant stuff, you could just weed your garden or pick flowers and put them on your dining table. or you could look after a succulent

do courses on random topics. again, may not be a hobby. but there are places you can do courses for free

reorganising things like your bookshelf, your furniture, your wall, your cupboards

on that topic, decorating your home is also something you can do! Stick things on your walls, line up things you collect. it has the benefit of making you feel more at home and express yourself. I find it calming

sewing stuff. I think this is also more costly if you want to buy patterns. buttt idk.

birdwatching or animal watching in general. you could list what you see or just observe, or even sketch/draw the creatures you find interesting or cool

is plantwatching a word? probably not. but you could walk around and see what little plants you see. and you could get little bits of plants you like and stick them in your journal or press them. you could even keep a plant journal.

nature photography, or photography in general. you could get fancy and use a fancy camera, or really just your phone is surely fine

you could make films maybe. I think that it wouldn't be too difficult to get supplies for that

that's all I've thought of for now! I might add more later, or feel free to add on if you have more ideas! remember that whatever you do, make sure to take breaks every now and again, drink water, eat, go to the bathroom, etc :))

tagging @sleepy-vix because she wanted to be tagged

[adaptacy]

Can u do Johnny one where we still trying to survive but johhny is obsessed with us and he keeps us to himself but we fell in love with him (stockholm syndrome ofc ofc)

not sure if you meant a drabble or hc so I went for a drabble!

CW: threats of murder/cannibalism, stockholm syndrome

Johnny x Hostage!GN!Reader

The door opened, causing you to life your head and scoot forward on the thin mattress, rubbing your eyes as your focus came-to. Johnny closed the door behind him and presented you with a ceramic plate holding some sort of sandwich. You took the plate from him, the chains on your wrists jingling as you did so. Johnny took a seat on the bed, pushing a strand of your messy hair behind your ear.

"Thank you," you whispered, taking a bite of the sandwich. It was cold, which was actually quite nice, though it didn't taste like any meat you'd ever had before. "What is it...?"

"You don't wanna know," he chuckled, standing up once more. "Eat up. Got stuff to do."

"You do or I do?" You asked, taking another bite, this one a little bigger. You would've normally turned it down, but you were starving, and you were taking whatever you could get your hands on.

"You do, darlin'."

You blinked, swallowing your bite. "What?"

"Few more bites n' I'll show ya." Johnny motioned towards your plate, and you nodded, finishing your meal as quickly as possible. Once you were done, Johnny took the plate and tossed it to the ground, allowing it to shatter, which you flinched at. "Arms up."

Though you wanted to ask why, you knew better, and instead chose to simply obey him. You lifted your arms, and he lifted your shirt, pulling it up to your wrists, but due to the chains it couldn't go any further. Fighting your instinct to cover up, you watched as Johnny formed an two Ls with his fingers and held them in front of his face, looking as though he were taking pictures of you. "What're you doing?"

"Measurn'. Hold still, sweetpea," he directed, leaning in and pulling out some sort of marker from his pocket. He popped the cap off, holding it between his teeth as he marked segmented lines around the bottom half of your breasts. He then leaned to the side, lining a segmented rectangle around your hips.

"Measuring for what?"

"Dinner," he replied, and you frowned.

"What?"

"What?" Johnny pinched his eyebrows in, glancing up at you as he drew the same square over your other hip. "I ain't gonna kill ya. Just wanna taste ya."

"You tasted me last night," you mumbled, rubbing the bite mark on your neck against your shoulder.

"Blood ain't the same. Lay down."

You laid back, your wrists resting against your sternum, and Johnny pulled the thin sheets off of your legs. You really weren't wearing much at all; a large t-shirt and underwear. That was all you'd been gifted. Fortunately, it wasn't that cold in the basement, so you managed. He propped one of your knees up, marking a circle on the back of your thigh. He then did the same with the other leg.

"Roll over."

You did that, too. You could feel the marker on your ass, and then on the upper part of the back of your thigh.

"So well-behaved, ain'tcha? You really are hopeless," he teased, and you leaned your chin on your palm, watching the dirt floor for a moment. Behaving was a good thing, wasn't it? It kept you out of trouble. Kept you from getting hurt. You didn't want to upset him. You felt a hand on your waist as he turned you over, leaning over the bed to kiss you, and you mumbled against his lips. "Keep it up."

"Yes sir," you answered, offering him a soft smile. "Johnny?"

"What?"

"I love you," you whispered, tilting your head at him.

Johnny smirked, dropping the capped pen back into his pocket. "I love your taste, sweetpea. I've gotta feed the chickens. Don't go anywhere," he chuckled, turning around and leaving the room.

You looked down at your chains, doing your best to pull your shirt back on, your mind still a little hazy from when he'd knocked you out. Your eyes followed your chains to where it attached to a post, noticing the shards of ceramic laying on the floor right next to it.

Easing yourself off of the bed, you knelt in the dirt, picking up the ceramic pieces. You picked up as many as you could, though there were some small shards mixed into the dirt, and put them in a small pile so he could take them up with him the next time he stopped by.

You thought about keeping one. Using one to fight back. But that's why it was here, wasn't it? He was testing you. Testing your devotion. Testing your loyalty. So you didn't. You left all of the pieces in the pile and climbed back into the bed, where you curdled your knees against your chest, tracing the places he'd outlined with a finger, curious about what he was planning on doing to you.

[teecupangel]

*Shows up from the shadows all in the dust* Desmond getting Marie Antoinette syndrome through his "adventures" against Templars.... Yeah not a big idea, just wanted to have the stress really show on that boy, because i would have a mental breakdown in his place... also want to have Shawn make a grandpa joke :D *Gives mug as a gift and walks out through the window like Dracula*

“How does it feel to be a grandpa?”

Desmond stared at the water bottle in his hand as he sat on the Animus. Rebecca was quietly tinkering away on her station, having stopped Desmond’s session because she was getting glitches on her end that made no sense.

Desmond would ask what kind of glitches but all three of them would just be asking back why he was asking.

They’ve been treating him like he was fragile and about to shatter before their eyes after he woke up from his coma.

He supposed his white hair was a constant reminder of that… ‘experience’.

Even Shaun’s snarky question held no bite. It sounded more like he was just going through the motion of what was expected of him.

Desmond supposed he should lighten the mood.

“Like I aged 90 years rapidly.” Desmond dryly replied while twisting the cap open.

He could feel their worried stares and Desmond glanced around.

They all looked away the moment their eyes met, even his own father who would have been giving them a hard time looked ready to murder his screen instead.

Shaun even winced when Rebecca gave him a short glare before returning to the imminent task at hand.

Desmond thought they would appreciate it. He even gave a rough estimate of the sum of the age difference of him and the memories of Ezio and Altaïr he had seen when he was in a coma.

Oh well.

Desmond supposed his sense of humor had been shot and trampled on after synchronizing with those memories.

Sometimes, he could feel it.

The tiredness in his bones.

The weariness of the life he led.

Sometimes, Desmond wondered who he would end up like.

Altaïr who found happiness only to be confronted by more and more tragedy as he got older. Who never stopped grieving and only continued forward because he knew they would want him to live?

Or Ezio who finally left everything behind and tried to carve out a little bit of happiness later in life after walking a path of tragedy and pain? Desmond didn’t even know if he had been successful. Did he die happy? Or will he end up like Altaïr? Tired and alone as he took his last breath?

And then there was Ratonhnhaké:ton and Haytham Kenway.

Desmond already knew how Haytham Kenway’s life would end.

If there was anything Desmond realized about his and his ancestors’ lives, they were all meant to suffer.

Haytham Kenway would die.

It was just a matter of who kills him and how.

Either Ratonhnhaké:ton would be forced to kill him or Haytham Kenway would be killed because of Ratonhnhaké:ton, either through protecting him or through finally agreeing to have some kind of truce with the Assassins. Either way, he will die in Ratonhnhaké:ton’s arms.

That was a tragedy that the Calculations would create.

Because their suffering and pain were meant to be watched by an audience.

By both the Assassins and the Templars.

Ah.

He was getting sidetracked.

That was becoming easier to do nowadays.

Seeing his life and the lives of his ancestors in a more detached way.

Like it wasn’t even his life nor the lives of the men he came to care for.

Desmond wondered if the lost of his hair’s color wasn’t the only thing that he lost back on that island.

Desmond closed his eyes and let out a soft sigh.

He supposed it didn’t matter right now.

Time was against them.

They needed to find the key to save the world.

Maybe this was for the better.

Being detached to his own life…

If his life was meant to be a tragedy as well then it only meant something was going to happen before or during the time he was meant to save the world.

He opened his eyes and looked around.

The death of a loved one would be tragic.

But Desmond couldn’t even count anyone to be someone he ‘loved’.

Rebecca and Shaun were more like colleagues than friends. Perhaps if they spent more time together, he would feel something deeper than the ‘care of an ally’ for them.

His parents?

He was sure that William Miles’ avoidance to talk about his wife was a clear indication that she was dead. Perhaps she died during the attack on the Farm.

Desmond’s heart did ache at that thought but it had been so long he had actually forgotten how she looked. He remembered being told as a child that he looked like his mother but… he could no longer remember her face. He remembered her voice only because he heard it again on the island.

And William Miles?

It would be tragic, perhaps it would even mirror Haytham Kenway’s ‘future’ death in the arms of his son. But it would not be enough…

No.

If his life was meant to be a tragedy.

Then dying to save the world would be the better twist.

He looked back at the water bottle.

He had forgotten that he was planning to drink it.

He wondered…

If the tragedy of his ancestors were watched by them as the audience...

Who would be the audience of his tragedy?

Desmond closed the cap.

Would his death even mean anything in the end?

He supposed he would never be able to answer that.

The answer would be for those who watched it.

(Maria Antoinette syndrome is usually summarized as a person’s hair turning white overnight due to trauma. And, yes, nonny, you wanted a physical manifestation of his stress and trauma and I give you an internal monologue of Desmond detaching himself to not fall into despair. Although, considering how his thoughts went… it’s not good)

[neoninky]

HSR Penacony spoilers BUT imma gonna talk about this

Honkai Star Rail related/kinda personal tangent under the cut. It's something that's been hanging in the back of my mind for a while, but I haven't seen people talk about it so I'm talking about it now.

I honestly should have screen-capped this when it happened ingame but oh well- Real talk: I was playing the last patch in Honkai Star Rail when this scene happened. You meet up with Robin again - who btw is a friggin ANGEL for real omg - and you meet this group of children that she has been helping teach (I believe?) and the main teacher NPC, Grace, is introducing the audience/Trailblazers to the children by name and she says this... "And as for Gary, he's been living with autism since he was a child..." Some context: I'm an undiagnosed adult with suspected autism. I word it that way because, like I said, I haven't been officially diagnosed. It's something that I want to achieve in the future but even so, I'm about 95% sure that I'm somewhere on the spectrum. Sometimes I still struggle with denying or doubting it because I do not have tangible proof on paper. Also, I can do things that a lot of people on the spectrum cannot (to an extent). But it's called a spectrum for a reason also masking is a very real thing. So is imposter syndrome but that's a whole other story-ANYWAY

With that said, I do have proof in that there are a lot - far too many in fact - common factors between myself and others on the spectrum that I've seen online, watched in videos made for and by autistic people, or even read in books. So I'm just now getting comfortable telling people out loud that I am autistic and explaining to them the sensory and social issues I sometimes have just so we can hopefully understand each other better. Back to the game - when I reached this part, I had to stop, pause the dialogue, and just sit feeling recognized in a way I never had before when consuming media. Sure, I've played games, watched tv/films, etc., and had seen characters I relate to before. But this was the first time that I've experienced a narrative that wasn't specifically written for/about an autistic character, say "Yes this is a so-n-so and they're autistic." No character coding, no implications, just outright. They don't make it this big to-do or something weird or pitiable (not that it should be by any means). It just is. And that's my favorite kind of representation. In this grand sci-fi space adventure drama mystery murder dinner theater of a game, there's an autistic kid named Gary. Love it. I may not love everything about Hoyoverse games, but this? I will give you your flowers for this Hoyo, thank you.

[atom-writings]

(HWS America x Reader) Fourth of July! ( w/ S/O that's scared of fireworks)

(Gender Neutral) Scenario ~ A/N happy fourth!!! reminder that armed revolution is ok and the police should be completely reformed and the american state is built on the blood of slaves and natives. anyway

Trigger Warning: Guilty thoughts (which get shut down,) other than just fluff!

You'd been called a lot of things. A stick in the mud, no fun, a party ruiner, and much more. All just because celebrating the Fourth of July like everyone else seemed like stressful misery.  Sure, not all of it was so exhausting, but when night fell, you couldn't do anything but turn up your music to an unhealthy degree and cower under the blankets. So, when your first July with your new boyfriend, Alfred, arrived, you weren't sure what to do.  Now, not only did you have the pressure of celebrating the worst holiday of the year, but also one of the best. His birthday.

You knew about his plans as soon as he made them. Like every July for the last 415 years, his birthday party was going to be the most bombastic event of the year. Party all throughout the day at his old mansion, hundreds invited, rented attractions and performers,  all capped off with a magnificent fireworks display as the sun sets.  Fun, for everyone! Including you, for some of it at least.

Before the party started, he made it clear that he didn't expect you to participate all day.  Not everyone has the social battery that he does and the last thing he wanted on his special day was you to be upset. Plus, he told you he wanted you to save some energy to properly gawk at his world-renowned firework show.

So you did as he suggested. The first part of the day was spent clinging to his side as he went around talking to friends new and old alike. The only time you didn't spend trapped under his arm was whenever he'd try to introduce you to politicians, politicians who had absolutely no business knowing who you were, at least. Then you'd slink away, joining your own friends in the many colourful games he had set up all over the lawn. But having an entire country fair dedicated solely to your boyfriend is bound to cause some imposter syndrome.

So about halfway through the party, you retired inside. But even though the distant chatter of people became muffled, you didn't feel any more comforted.  Your boyfriend was still out there, having a great time without you. Your friends too, were partying without a care in the world. And once again you had become a stick in the mud.

“Am I making this about myself by not having fun?” You couldn't help but wonder as you looked down at the red, white, and blue crowd. Such thoughts kept you locked inside, away from being forced to ponder that question anymore. For the rest of the day, you rarely ventured outside to steal a snack from Alfred's utterly deranged spread of all-American food. “I'll make it up during the fireworks show...” You concluded nervously.

But as the sun began to set, you couldn't help but panic. Alfred would want you to come down and watch with him... but there was nothing you wanted to do less in the whole world at that moment. Bright, deafeningly loud, surrounded by others, all while having to force a reaction for him. But... but you'd do it because you loved him, right?

“Y/N?” Alfred asks from the doorway to your room. His voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you spin around to face him. As you realised he could see you, you stopped biting your nails and forced a smile.

“Is it about to start?” You ask, trying to keep your voice casual.

“Yeah, wanna come?”

“Course, just give me, like... a minute, ok?”

He pauses, looking you up and down, his expression unreadable. He rests against the doorway and asks, ”Are you sure you want to come?“

”What?“

“You don't have to come... if you don't want to,” he says in a quiet, comforting voice while crossing his arms.

“What are you talking about? I just said I'd go,” You say, confused at his sudden non-committal to the event.

“Yeah, but I'm saying that if you're gonna be uncomfortable, I don't want you to come.”

“L-Listen... I'm sorry that I've been up here all day-”

He cuts you off, “Don't worry about it. I'm just happy you were there for a little bit,”

“Ok but- I'm going to make up for my absence at the fireworks show.”

He stares at you, his face still unreadable, ”Only if you want to. Which, again, you haven't said that you want to yet,“

You flinch. Why couldn't he be the doofus he is with everyone else, with you? “I don't want to, but you'll prove me wrong, right?”

“Ok, then let's just hang out in here.” He states, walking towards you.

“Wh- No. You were so excited to see the fireworks!”

“Yeah, I was. But I was more excited to just... spend time with you,” He says, crouching in front of you and taking your cheek in his hand.

“Alfred...”  You whine, trying to pull away.

“Listen, I got a potentially infinite amount of fireworks shows in front of me. But I only got what, 80 more birthdays left with you? I'd much rather see you happy than some cool explosions in the sky,“  He smiles.

You sigh, pausing for a moment as he looks at you expectantly. Meeting his gaze, you concede, ”Sure. If that's what you want.“

He grins, taking your hand in his, ”It's totally what I want.“

Before you can try to protest, he drags you out of your seat by your hand. He brings you downstairs, past the view of all of his partygoers, sitting you down in the basement. You try to speak before he cuts you off.

”Just hang out down here for a little bit, alright? I'll be right back,” He paces back and forth for a moment excitedly, before running back upstairs. So there you wait, sitting confused on his couch, waiting for him to return with whatever idea he had had.

And after about 5 minutes of you sitting on your phone, he returned. He was carrying multiple plates of the food you and him liked best, as well as a couple of blankets (all of which displayed the American flag because well- it's Alfred,) He sets them down on the coffee table and places his hands on his hips, looking down at you like he was expecting something.

“Woah, uh- you planning to sustain us for a week down here?”  You joke.

“If you'd like that, for sure,” He laughs, but it's clear he's a little serious.

He rushes to sit next to you, wrapping you up in one of the blankets. He pulls you closer to him by the hips, leaning his head against yours as he turns on the tv in front of both of you. Outside, booms rattle the ceiling, causing you to shake against him. But with every boom, he squeezes you tighter.

Even as the world outside shakes and rattles with noise, you knew you were safe with him. Every time you would start to shudder again, he quickly turned up the volume of the tv. By a couple of hours in, the sound of the fireworks outside was completely drowned out by the noise of some random old show Alfred loved.

“Alfred?”

”What's up?“ He responds, rubbing your side comfortingly.

”How come this doesn't remind you of like, wartime or anything like that? I mean- I just wouldn't expect someone like you to like that kind of thing anymore.“

He sighs melancholically, eyes turning to the side, “It did for a little bit. Like you said, it's hard not to remember that kinda stuff.”

You readjust yourself to look at him more intently, intertwining your fingers with his, “It doesn't anymore, though?”

“Nah. Not anymore. Like, it kinda makes me feel better now. You know, like bad things keep happening, but it's fine. Cause I got to see a fireworks show again this year! Which means all that bad stuff is just gonna be the past now.”

You turn back to the show, leaning your head on his shoulder. In response, he wraps his arm around your back, “That's a nice way to think about it,” You mumble.

“Gotta find nice ways to think about stuff. Or else, everything sucks forever,” He says matter-of-factly, causing both of you to chuckle for a moment at his phrasing.

“Weird that so many powerful people hang out with you when you talk like-” You start to say, before being cut off by another boom from outside. He notices immediately, clicking his tongue sympathetically and squeezing your shoulder to reassure you.

“They gotta. How are you gonna be running America without talking to America?” He laughs, trying to get you to relax.

“Uh- I don't know if you're entirely representative of the entire population, Alfred.”

“What are you talking about?” He exclaims sarcastically, “I'm the most average American guy in like, the whole country!“

”Average people can't throw around cars like tennis balls!” You laugh. And for the rest of the night, you laughed at his stupid jokes. Anytime the house would be rocked by the explosions outside, he would make sure you were focusing on the moment you two were sharing, rather than the fear you were used to every year on that day. Why stay outside in the summer heat, when you can cuddle up with someone you love in a chill basement,  eating food you both adore?

Much better than fireworks, he concluded. And you couldn't help but agree.

[xoxiu]

first love of late spring - ot7 x reader

chapter one masterlist

join the taglist

summary: falling, falling, falling- that's what you shouldn't be doing as a young intern at hybe. falling in love with your supervisor is frowned upon, especially all seven of them. you'll never learn, will you? guess you’ll just have to be their dark secret.

tags/warnings: intern!reader, poly relationships, stockholm syndrome, age regression, spanking, drug use, sugar daddy au, dubcon, body dysmorphia

Daylight slowly faded through the office window near your tiny cubicle. It had been your first day of work, and you couldn't believe how fast it flew by. Your computer clock only confirmed this- 18:57- long past your coworkers' traditional end of the workday. But not you, you quite liked the peacefulness of the office after hours. 

As HYBE's newest social media intern, you mainly took on the jobs that your managers didn't want to do- check emails, keep track of social media growth, the works. Today was spent giving you the social media passwords to Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, and Weverse and training you on what to do. Of course, this was taught to you by a much older man- the head of the social media department. While you knew exactly how to operate online accounts and what a Tweet was, you allowed the head manager his time in the spotlight by making him think he was teaching you the hidden knowledge of the internet. 

You check Jandi, the office management system, to ensure you've done everything assigned to you today. Yes, you've logged into the platforms, filtered through comments and replies, and watched the mandatory entry videos for the company. All you needed now was to...

Call Park Jimin of BTS to remind him of his scheduled livestream on Weverse at 19:00. Shit. 

Panicking, you quickly picked up your black office landline and dialed the phone number in the computer's contact list. The phone rang for what felt like the whole three minutes leading up to the scheduled time. In reality, the idol picked up after only three rings. 

"Ah, Hello?" The smooth and silky voice said on the line. You wet your lips as nerves quickly sank in- you've never been good at phone calls. 

"Is this Park Jimin? I'm with the social media department for HYBE."

"Yes, it is. Is there a problem tonight?" 

"No, sir. This is just a reminder to be in the studio for 19:00. You have a livestream planned with managers Seo and Kang assisting you."

"Oh, yes! I'm currently in the studio waiting for the top of the hour. Thank you, manager-nim!"

Before you could correct him on your proper title, the line had gone quiet. You let out the breath you had been holding for what felt like ages before putting the phone back on the receiver. With your final task for the day done, you marked it complete before logging in your total hours for the day- eight. 

You stood up and started packing your backpack. Your phone charger, tablet, novels, and miscellaneous paperwork were packed up, and you placed your headphones on your ears before exiting the office. 

The BigHit social media office was on the tenth floor of the HYBE building, right in the middle of the office block. Thankfully, the elevators in the building are much more reliable and fast than the ones on your university campus. You managed to catch an empty one and pressed the button for the ground floor. 

Engrossed in your phone, you didn't even look up when the elevator stopped until you heard the ping, indicating that the elevator had indeed stopped. You checked what floor you were at- floor five- before looking straight ahead to see who was entering the lift. A tall man with a black cap, white face mask, and tan sweatshirt entered the elevator. Moving to the back left corner away from the control panel, you made a quick bow. 

"Hello."

The man walked into the opposite corner, also going down to the ground floor with you. He looked at you with wide, surprised eyes. 

"Oh, good afternoon," he said. He glanced at his phone before looking back at you. "I don't recognize you. Are you new?"

"Yes, sir. I'm y/n, the new social media intern for BigHit. It's a pleasure to work alongside you."

You could see his eyes slant slightly, showing that he was smiling behind the mask. He gave you a short bow before reaching his hand out toward you. 

"I'm Kim Namjoon. I'm sure you'll make our socials the best they can be."

Your heart skipped a beat; You had a member of the company's- no, the world's biggest idol group right in front of you, wanting to shake your hand. Timidly, you placed your hand in his, shyly shaking his hand. Namjoon chuckled, sensing your nerves. 

"No need to be shy. You'll do great. Can I walk you out?" He asked as the doors to the elevator opened, revealing the empty lobby. You gave him a smile and a small nod as you both exited the lift. 

"So when was your first day?" Namjoon asked. 

"It was today- I mainly did training and menial tasks." Namjoon gave a disgusted noise at your response. 

"That doesn't sound fun at all. Surely your work will get more fun as time goes on."

"Yes, sir. I'm sure it will. I will do my best to make you and everyone else look good online."

Namjoon gave a loud laugh at your response, further putting you at ease. He opened the side door to the parking deck for you, indicating for you to go first. 

"That's a hard job, y/n-ssi; Our career depends on it." 

Namjoon meant his words as a joke, but you couldn't help but have your smile falter as you gulped in fear. In reality, BTS and the rest of BigHit's public image depended on the competency you had at your job. In the back of your mind, you knew it wasn't solely your job, you had a whole team you worked for, but the thoughts wouldn't stop isolating you and solely making you the problem. You were so caught up in your thoughts that you barely comprehended Namjoon saying his goodbyes and walking towards his vehicle. 

Quickly, you snapped out of it, realizing that staring at the older man as he walked to his car looked a bit stalker-ish. You walked out of the parking lot and began your trek to your apartment. 

You were a recent college graduate, having had your commencement ceremony this past spring. You majored in Social Media Marketing with a minor in English and had quite the resume and portfolio following graduation. Over the summer you applied to job after job, but rarely received a callback or an interview. Smaller businesses and organizations passed on you, but you were shocked when you received an employment offer from HYBE after your second round of interviews. 

In typical internship fashion, it was an unpaid gig. They did, however, offer to pay for housing and gave you a monthly allotment of money for food. While you much rather preferred a paycheck, the stipends for housing and food allowed you to at least live in Seoul. It did not, however, pay to allow you to take a bus home. So, you had to walk the thirty-minute walk home every day. 

Entering your studio apartment, you sat your backpack down on the tiny countertop of your kitchen and slipped off your shoes. Your apartment was small and cheap for Gangnam, being only ₩300,000 a month for 20 square meters of space. This meant your kitchen barely had room for a table for one, your bedroom and living room were the same small room, and your bathroom held only enough extra space solely so you could stand in one place. It wasn't much, but living in Gangnam felt better than the farmland you had grown up in. 

Growing up in a small village outside of Gwangju didn't provide you with much of anything in life. If anything, your childhood consisted mainly of bullying and body issues. You were much larger than most of the other kids growing up, and even now you still leaned on the thicker side. Many strangers would stare at you with your larger behind, thighs, and bust with disgust on their faces- you weren't the beauty standard in Korea. However, while attending Chonnam University in Gwangju, you befriended a group of foreign students from America that would constantly hype up your appearance, telling you that any man in America would die to have a girlfriend with a body like yours. 

But you didn't live in America. You lived in Korea. 

Eventually, your American friends would graduate and move back stateside, leaving you to receive glares and offensive remarks with no backup. By this time, though, the confidence your friends provided you with was stuck in your head. Their words of 'you're just short, you don't weigh that much', 'your tits are killer', and 'I'd smack that ass' never left your conscience. To this day you don't know whether to laugh at the memories or appreciate them endearingly. You just decided to do them both. 

With water boiling on the stove for your instant noodles, you lay on your sleeper sofa and stared aimlessly at the chipped paint of your ceiling. Maybe someday you'll get rich and famous like Namjoon and Jimin and live in a luxury apartment, not a basement studio apartment for less than a week's worth of minimum wage.

[aikoiya]

Jazz as Altair (The Bluebird of Gotham)

This is based on @tireduniversityscam's Halfa Jazz with Parent Syndrome au, a.k.a. BrucexJazz & @lordgrimoire's Bluebird vigilante Jazz.

I'm thinking that Jazz's vigilante name could be either Altair after the bluebird star (as homage to her brother, the astronerd) or just simply The Bluebird. As bluebirds represent hope, love, renewal, optimism, joy, as well as symbolizing the essence of life & beauty. Not to mention Immortality.

Also, seeing a bluebird after a death represents that the soul of your lost loved one has reached the afterlife. So, seeing her tends to give comfort to those who've lost loved ones.

I see her looking like this:

But maybe with her hair more resembling mist instead of water should her main element be wind instead of water to go with the bluebird aesthetic. Same color, but mist.

Here's a close up of her hat:

I see her using a Fenton Whiplash (just an anti-ecto whip) or just being able to form her ectoplasm into a whip. Either/or.

Also, this mask:

This is her with the mask:

If not a trenchcoat, then a blue cape that fans out to look like bird wings when she's flying. Like the Roc's Cape from LoZ: Minish Cap.

I always hc'd that she'd have psychic empathy, minor clairvoyance, minor mindreading, & telekinesis as a halfa cus it seems the sort of thing she'd have. She comes across as very psychic oriented.

Plus, Spectral Acknowledgement, which is a fun power:

Again, her primary core element could be either water or wind.

I see her having a ghost sense, it being a family thing. However, hers would be different based on her element. If water, it works like sonar & is more close range than Danny's & when it goes off, her eyes get watery, a single stream of tears falling from her eyes. I don't know how it'd manifest with wind, though.

I see Jazz taking the role of a medium as a vigilante. Helping Shades to move on. The Shades I think of is inspired by the ghosts from the Blackwell games & when doing medium things, Jazz tends to do similar things as in the game. Helping the Shades to get to a point where they can move on, which can result in them becoming ecto-ghosts later. However, helping Shades to fulfill whatever is keeping them on earth makes it less likely for them to become ecto-ghosts & more likely to move onto whatever is next. If she just fights them & sucks them up into a thermos, they're more likely to turn into ecto-ghosts & possibly come back. The reason being that emotional attachments, unfinished business, & so on, causes strong, often distressed emotions, which attracts ectoplasm & causes it to stick to a soul. The more ectoplasm sticks to a soul, eventually it'll form a core which is how ecto-ghosts come into being. At least, when spirits of the dead are involved.

For more on the formation of ghosts, go here:

Seriously, the Blackwell series is great & you should definitely go play it or watch someone else play it.

Anyway, Jazz does regular vigilante stuff too, but I feel like this would give her a bit of mystique as a hero. It also meshes well with her therapist focus.

I see her originally patrolling from just before midnight to just after dawn, but after Duke joins, she extended her schedule to midday in case he needs help. She works between midnight & dawn because that's the timeframe where ghosts, spirits, shades, & other such spectral entities are the strongest & cause the most disturbances with 3:00 am being when it peaks.

As for Jason as the Cardinal, I think this would look good for his mask:

Also, one of these hooded jackets:

They're freaking badass!

No helmet & give him a red bird symbol on his chest.

Everything else could match with the second jacket's outfit though.

This is also a really cool design for halfa Jason:

I love the design for his hair, especially the little shadowy flame for that little tuft.

I just really like the idea of Jason with shadow powers, like from @dxrksong.

One of his powers is being able to control his shadow. However, he doesn't have full-on umbramancy. Rather, like I said, he can only control his shadow. At the same time, he can cover himself in it for added protection & it gives him an aura like black flames licking over his skin. He can also make shadowy claws out of them for added melee. It's metal af, okay?

His shadow is controlled entirely by his wants, so it can do a lot of things similar to what Dr. Facilier could in Princess & the Frog.

While he can't control the shadows of others, if he makes his shadow touch other shadows, like if his shadow strangled another person's shadow, it'd result in the owner of said shadow choking for real.

At the same time, saving one's self from said shadow is as simple as shining a bright light all around themselves so that the shadow can't come near.

If they're in an alley at night with no lights, then the shadow can navigate the walls & surfaces unseen as it blends in perfectly.

Can also merge with his shadow & travel through shadows or jump from shadowy spot to shadowy spot.

Also, All-Blades are necessary. I dunno how, but they are.

[kitmoas]

Na úpätí trónu

Summary: Two of the most powerful beings help your best friend get what she wants; and you're there to make sure it all goes as planned.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader x Kate Bishop

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Dark Fic (Sacrifice, Stockholm Syndrome, Hostage Vibes, Evil Gods), Dark Scarlet Queen!Wanda, Dark Skeleton King Kate, Dub con/noncon, Magic Use, Cum filled Strap (r!receiving), Power Bottom Wanda (kinda?), Royalty Kink!!!!, degrading, MAGICAL MARKS, pain with weapon use?, mental manipulation (magical and non), BREEDING KINKKKK

*As usual let me know if I missed anything important*

A/N: This is the LAST official Occult fic and I must say I'm pretty excited about the idea with this one! We love a stoic Wanda and slightly crazy Kate who end up being softies with you in private!  Once again any mistakes are mine, and we just ignore them because editing is hard

***MINORS DNI*** ***18+***

Main Master list // kitmoas | occult

No matter how much you thrashed about, kicked, or screamed you knew you were no match for your best friend. An entire lifetime of training in the Red Room made sure that she was a small firecracker of muscle, and even though you tried your hardest to stay fit you knew that you couldn’t even compare. 

You have no idea where you are, having decided with the blonde to take one last road trip before you graduated from college. The two of you were ending graduate school and you both were finally heading into the real adult world, but now you would give anything to just go back to studying. Everything started out so normal until the last leg of the drive when you woke up with something covering your eyes and you couldn’t move your body. You could hear her mumbling out how sorry she was as she drove, the car screeching as she made reckless turns at what sounded like dangerously high speeds. 

“Y–yelena..Elly..Come on, let’s just talk this out. Please? What is this?” Your voice was cracking entirely too much as you tried to stay calm, thinking that maybe the former widow’s chemicals were messing with her brain again. “Where’s your hand Els, I’m here.” She had a few times in the past where she would get violent and you just had to remind her that she was safe, and that she was free. This felt different but you needed to try. She was ignoring you, slurred mumbling under her breath as she continued to drive. 

Trying to plead with her for what felt like hours, the car was finally coming to a stop. She was pulling you out of the car before you could really process what was happening, carrying you and you could feel the tears hitting your arm. “Elly, tell me what’s going on! Please, we’re best friends. I love you. I–” Your sentence was cut off as your body was dropped unceremoniously on the ground, and the blindfold was ripped from your face. 

Trees towering over you and a snow capped mountain in the distance is the first thing your vision focuses on before it slips to your best friend as she paces in front of you, face red and wet. You’re laying on what feels like rubble, two pillars and a half fallen concrete wall are across from you. The blonde whips around a glare spread across her face as she looks down at you, “Don’t say that! Not now, don’t make this harder for me!” 

You want to laugh because it’s obvious that whatever is happening is entirely worse for you, but you fall silent regardless. Ill fate settles in your body as you realize that no matter how loud you scream, no one can save you and you still cannot move your body. She’s walking around now, pushing rocks and crumbled concrete into the grass and away from the cracked flooring. The panic on her face is obvious and she’s pulling bags out of the car, rushing around as she glances at her watch. You see the cover of one of the books, confusion fills your brain as you start to recognize the incantation written on the front. 

Yelena finally kneels down near you, a shaky exhale as she takes your fearful eyes. “They can help me bring her back. I need to bring her back.” She smiles sadly at you, “You will be the key to bringing back my Natasha.” She drags the book closer, reading through the instructions as she shakes above you. 

Even though this is a terrible fate for you, you can see how much it hurts your best friend. The blonde hadn’t been the same since her beloved sister died during a fight. Half of her soul disappeared that day and you spent your time together trying to get her to be happy again, and it’s become obvious that you failed. Yelena was mumbling, almost frantically, as she rushed to start whatever process she wanted. 

She freezes and slowly turns to you, a guilty almost apologetic expression spreads across her face. One of her many knives appears out of nowhere, and she makes quick work of cutting your clothing off. You barely have time to note the brisk air when she drags the blade along your torso, leaving cuts that bead with crimson. Pained whimpers threaten to fall from your lips, but it doesn’t deter her. You’re starting to believe nothing will, and you’ll be left here in the middle of nowhere by your own best friend.  

Shivering the cold wind makes your bones feel brittle and you can feel your entire will to live just start draining. “Are you going to kill me? Is this all just to watch me die? In the name of what? Some random being that won’t even give you what you actually want?” You had given up your fight long before this, but as she drew your blood you were just interested in who she was even trying to sacrifice you to. No true god would care about a single person, not even someone as amazing as Natasha. 

She’s on autopilot, not flinching once as she turns to pour your blood along the stone. You were too focused on Yelena as she kneels, rocking and muttering, to notice the spreading ice that covers the grass and trees. It’s only when a throne appears surrounded by a dense darkness do the two of you silence completely. Almost ink black fog radiates from the chair as it settles gently on the ground, and two pairs of glowing eyes float–unblinking crimson and indigo. As the darkness fades and the royal pedestal finally comes into light, you choke on your own words when you recognize the Undead King’s crown adorning the figure that is perched on the top of the crest rail. 

The fear sinks into your body, even more than before, as you realize this is real. You weren’t just dying, your soul is going to be sacrificed to one of the most cruel daemon’s out there. Yelena stands, shaking but confident as she approaches the throne. “Your majesty, King of the Skeletons, I bring you a sacrifice in exchange for a soul that you have. She’s everything you ever go searching for, the perfect soul for the highest of royalty.*” 

The blonde barely gets her rambling out before she’s encased in a blinding red mist, forced onto her knees. A pained whimper falls from her lips, but it’s only when the shadows fade away that you see the people on the throne. The Undead crown that you knew sat upon a young girl’s head, long raven locks flowing and a gruesome bloody skeleton mask across most of her face with only her menacing eyes visible. Dressed in all black, her sleeves torn off display prominent muscles and a staff strapped on her back. She looms over a gorgeous woman, a floating red crown above her ginger hair. You don’t recognize her, but you are entranced by the scarlet wisps falling from her ash tipped fingers. 

The brunette crawls around the palmette almost like a gargoyle to sneer down at the blonde, “Worthless mortal! You demand things from me before even acknowledging the true Queen?” The woman spoken of slams Yelena into a pillar, wrapping her magic tightly against the stone. “You will bend the knee to her as I did many moons ago for we would be nothing without the divine Controller of Chaos” Watching as the girl defies all laws of gravity, hanging carelessly on the ear of the throne, you can’t help but be confused. If this girl was such a big being herself that you were supposedly being sacrificed to her, then why is she working for some other idol?

You can hear Yelena babbling, apologies and swearing her loyalty, but the scarlet Queen is looking directly at you now. Her eyes ablaze as they bore into you. “Enough Kate.” It doesn’t take much more for the younger girl to turn her attention to you, following the ginger’s gaze. You watch as she settles in her spot, throwing her legs over the throne’s arm to lay lazily. Self hatred settles in your gut as you think about how attractive you found that, the way she so effortlessly moves. You were always attracted to things that were bad for you, glutton at heart. 

Startling you, Kate leaps into the air. Slowly hovering down to land in front of the throne, her outfit expands as she straightens. Black encases her entire body, just briefly showing off a crimson jewel around her neck, as she buttons her suit jacket. Slipping the staff to hold as a cane, skeleton hands emerge from inside, clawing at the ground with each step she takes closer to you. Even though you still couldn’t move, the fear was evident in your eyes and it made the girl cackle as she finally leaned down near you. 

Her nail, long and devilishly sharp, pierces your skin as she uses it to move your head around; inspecting you. She gropes your naked body, taking in the way some of the goosebumps along your skin pops against the eagle-like grip. Kate’s glowing purple eyes clear as she hovers above you, leaving an eerily dark sapphire. Using her staff she nudges your legs apart, pulling and poking your pussy lips apart as she examines every part of you. No matter how much you want to squirm away, you can’t and your body doesn’t know any better than to enjoy the probing. Shame fills your head when you realize that you begin to drip down your thighs, strings of your slick getting attached to her scepter. 

You want to scream, beg her to stop, that your soul is hers and just to let you go burn in Hell for all eternity. A squeak scratches at your throat, just barely making a noise. Her eyes dart back up to your face, flashing purple momentarily. Letting the tip of the staff tap against your cunt, hitting your clit randomly; she observes you. “Don’t be scared, sweet thing. You’ll serve an amazing purpose, and that’s better than anything you could have ever done in your meritless life here on this floating rock.” She lets her thumb pop into your mouth, forcing past your locked jaw as your teeth scrape against the thin skin. 

Every nerve in your body is firing, trying to squirm away from the spirit’s activity. You just wanted to go home and forget this ever happened but you aren’t sure that’s ever going to happen again. The thumb in your mouth is thrusting slowly, pointedly gagging you any time you seem to fight her. Kate coos above you, smacking her staff vigorously against your red cunt. “Awww Wanda, can we keep her? She’s just so adorable. The most enthralling voluptuous offering for you, My Queen.” 

Your eyes flicker over to the older woman, watching as she lazily calls the two of you over. The first time her magic wraps you up you feel like a lifeless doll, your limbs flopping to your sides as you are dragged through the air. “What is wrong with her? She hasn’t moved an inch since we arrived? ” The witch’s question is rhetorical, easily reading both yours and Yelena’s mind to understand what happened. “Does she not want to play with us?” Wanda’s pout is taunting, entirely too smug as she eyes the shiny wetness along your quivering thighs. A snap of her finger has you falling from the sky, but you’re able to put your arms out to brace yourself. 

Jaw slack as you stare up in shock at the ginger, who has a *lazy* arrogant look on her face. You’re so *enamored* with being able to move again that you weren’t expecting strong hands gripping your hips. Drawing you up onto your knees, you feel the *sharp* nails trailing along your backside. “We wanted you to be able to feel it when we take what we want from you.” The cold breath puffs against the shell of your ear, immediately making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. 

Even though you know the effects of whatever chemical Yelena drugged you with are gone, your muscles fruitlessly fight against the magic blanketing around you. Unbeknownst to you, the two supernatural beings just find your struggle endearing. Most of their sacrifices are frozen in terror, unable to resist the two even if they wanted to. 

A deep throaty chuckle makes you freeze, the sound striking against the nerves at the base of your neck. Head ticking as your body tries to fight the grating noise, Wanda finally moves. Sitting with her legs spread and her elbows resting on her knees, she curls a single finger under your chin. Her thumb traces your bottom lip, slowly smearing drool as a maniacal smile spreads across her face. Eyes squinting gleefully as you try to snarl at her, snapping your teeth towards her. 

You knew that fighting was stupid but you refused to go down easily, these demonic beings wouldn’t get your soul without a struggle. The feeling of something hard bumping between your thighs caused a stumble in your demeanor, but you tried to power through. Each time Wanda came near you, you tried to bite her and you threw a few insults her way as well but none of them made much of an impact. 

Her spit splatters on your face, and her palm collides violently with your cheek before you can even blink. The pain doesn’t register until she’s cooing and rubbing the bright red spot across the side of her face, a searing almost burning sensation ripples through your entire skull. “You think a couple measly Earth insults and some biting will make us run?” She grips your jaw, tightly with no regard at your high pitched wail as you can almost feel the bone cracking. Her gleaming eyes finally settle and a deep forest replaces as she finally looks at you directly. 

Diverting your eyes, the fear plummets into your gut and it’s beginning to take a toll on your mindset. Tapping your cheek, she waits until your gaze meets hers to let her powers overtake once more. Her magic seeps out of her dark fingertips, down your jaw and slithering around your neck. It drags you closer to her, strangling you as she watches your reaction. 

Glaring, you try your hardest to match her gaze in intensity but you were so focused on Wanda that you almost completely forgot about Kate. The undead king was having the time of her life, playing in between your legs as the ginger messed with your head. The strap adorning her hips always made her happy, she felt empowered as she ripped into her victims but you were different. No matter how hard she hit your raw puffy cunt, you just dripped with more slick and your clit throbbed under her thumb. It was almost like your body knew that you were meant to be theirs, even if your mind refused to let your soul settle. 

The thick strap forcing its way into you makes a gurgled scream fall from your squished mouth, the crimson mist around your throat tightening. You try to wiggle away as much as possible, the pain from Kate thrusting into you was overwhelming but her nail digs further into your hip bones. A mocking laugh fills your ears as the brunette leans down, rutting into you. “The dumb slut is dripping all over my cock and expects me to believe the pathetic fear emanating from you?” 

Wanda just smiles, tutting as you try to shaking your head. With a blink of an eye, the bottom of her suit disappears and your jaw drops in shock. “Hush now, little one, let’s put that troublesome mouth to work.” She’s dragging both you and the younger girl forward, leaning back as your tongue touches her hard clit. Her fingers tangle roughly in your hair, directing you where she wants you. “If you’re a good girl, maybe we’ll let you cum or maybe we’ll even let you live.” The ginger’s voice is breathy, a sternness backing it even as she lets the pleasure fill her body. 

You try your hardest to not get addicted to the taste of the woman in front of you, it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever had. No doubt inhuman as you try to turn your head, pull away, anything to not give her what she wants but the magic around your neck forces you to pant. Not one to usually want to separate from a pretty woman, you mentally shake off the thought of you losing your freedom and decide to focus on the way Wanda is leaking into your mouth. 

The older woman isn’t really letting you do too much, the fist in your hair keeps you mostly locked in place. Her hips grinding on her own will, the most you can do is lay your tongue flat as she uses your face. Each time her movements stutter, you take the moment to suck her clit into your mouth; relishing the deep grunts and moans that fall from her mouth. 

Though your focus was forced to be on Wanda, it was getting more and more difficult the longer Kate thrusts into you. Every movement rocks your body forward, and drags you back as she pulls out of you. The skeleton ruler disregards your comfort as she takes what she wants from you, forcing muffled moans to vibrate against the witch’s clenching cunt. The king’s open palm slaps against the swell of your ass, leaving a rippling purple mark instantly. The pain makes you pitifully writhe beneath her as you try to put distance between the two of you when she slaps you again. 

Kate’s fingers pulled at your nipples, making your hips jut up. “Don’t fight it. This isn’t about you whore, this is about pleasing your Majestic. Get it through your idiotic meager brain that you are being blessed to taste her. Make her cum and maybe I won’t kill you on the spot, maybe I’ll even let you get some pleasure after I’m done using you like the hole you are.” Your body is rocking with each movement she makes, but the vibrating magic moves down your torso and suddenly you can no longer feel anything. It’s a buzzing numbness, like your entire body fell asleep–an almost stabbing pain erupting along your skin.  

The abrupt dense fog in your brain was diluting your thoughts now, the numbness along your body filling your mind quickly. You barely could keep up with Wanda’s movements, just letting her fuck herself on your tongue. It started to fill your body with a warmth that even her magic couldn’t get rid of, a sense of pride as you watched this powerful being start to fall apart because of your mouth. The moans falling from her crimson lips makes you up your ante, focusing as much as you can on her clit. You can almost feel it throbbing in your mouth as you suction around it, relishing in the grunted praise and the way her fist tightens in your tangled locks. 

Kate sinks her fangs in your shoulder, breaking the skin as she forces her cock as deep into you as possible with each thrust. “I’m going to cum in you, and you’re going to take it like the good little cum dumpster you are.” Her voice is cracking as she mutters against your sweat slicked back. 

It’s Wanda who falls over the edge first, her quivering thighs locking around your head and the magic encasing wavering for the first time that night. Her strained moans vibrate through her body, echoing in your ears. You desperately want to feel how you clench around the king’s cock, knowing that you loved making someone so stoic like the witch cum so hard. Her voice echoes in your mind as she finally starts calming down, her hand tangled in your hair streaming ruby fog into your brain. Praise that warms your body and makes you wiggle happily. 

Her grip falters with each buck of the brunette’s hips, the force snapping your head forward each time. Wanda pushes your head back, the heel of her hand shoving at your forehead so that you’re forced to look into her eyes. “Your majesty is going to paint your insides with her cum and you’re going to thank her. That bratty little mouth will not disobey us anymore, not if you ever want to feel anything ever again.” 

You aren’t sure if you want to know the state of your torso as the undead king claws desperately at it, digging her razor nails into your thin skin. “You’re so fucking tight, sweet thing. I’m going to use this pussy for centuries to come, and I’ll never get tired of it.” Kate’s voice cracks as she wraps a hand around your throat from behind you, using it as leverage. “Such a messy slut, drippin all over m’cock.” Her words slur as she slams into you, hips jerking as she finally falls  over the edge; the enchanted strap filling you with demonic cum. 

Everything is entirely too overwhelming, all of your senses that are overtaken by the two of them. The taste and smell of Wanda still strong, and the warm feeling as the tingly numbness disappeared was filled with Kate’s cum leaking out of you and her large calloused hands rubbing along your body. With the witch’s hand still in your hair, your vision is blurred but stuck to the way the ginger’s hair is messy in all the right ways now. 

You don’t even actually feel it when the king pulls out of you, just collapsing when the only support is the queen’s grip in your hair. You’re being lifted and settled on the lap of Wanda, who barely even pays you any attention instead just firmly grips your waist. Slouching on her, against what you believe to be her wants, you struggle to regain control over your body as it gets back feeling. The aftermath of the rough treatment you just received had exhausted your body even though you didn’t feel a majority of it. 

Watching as Kate goes to talk to Yelena who has finally slumped in a fetal position where she was dropped, Wanda surprisingly pulls you closer to her. Curling into the warm witch you relish in the heat difference, as your body is dramatically losing heat in the wind. Her hand comes up to the left side of your collarbone, thumb rubbing along it. It’s a sweet comforting gesture but you’re suddenly whimpering in pain. It ceases quickly, ultimately just an annoyance. Without really thinking about it you look up at her, pleading eyes as you pout at her. The queen shushes you, a soft smile along her lips as she caresses the mark that is the source of your pain. 

A dark cloud of smoke appears and out tumbles Natasha, pale and weak as she collapses on the ground. You don’t hear much as you watch your best friend stumble over to her sister, tears streaming down her face as the two embrace. The minute the two touch chains appear out of nowhere, a collar laid with bones wrapped tightly around your neck. Connected by the heavy metal to the throne, you look at the skeleton king confused as the fuzzy feeling in your brain returns. “You’re home sweet thing, forever with your Majestic and Majesty.” 

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Donned in casual wear, Kate was walking around the spacious hall when she felt the call she had been waiting for. A smug smile stretches her face as she twirls around to find you, curled up in Wanda’s lap eating food from her fingers. She pauses for a moment to watch your pink tongue lap at the juices left on the ash dipped fingertips, a hungry growl getting caught in her throat when she remembers what she still needs to do. 

“We must go, an important deal is coming to an end.” As she strides towards you, you sit mesmerized as you do each time you watch her clothes transform into her formal wear. Her purple sweats replaced with a sharp black leather suit, armor wrapped around her torso and her cherished staff appearing on her back. Walking up to you, she cups your cheek and lets her forehead rest against yours. A throat clear from one of the only workers to see the private life of the three of you grabs your attention, “Are you ready my sweet love?” 

A mumbled “Yes, my Majesty.” is heard as your clothes fall into a mist, leaving you nude once more. The king rubbing her thumb over your collar, tracing the bones that she rules, cheek twitching as she struggles to remain focused on the task at hand. You settle on your knees, dragging your heavy chains with you to get comfortable at the foot of the throne. Wanda simply stretching out as she waits for Kate to climb onto the crest railing. 

Within seconds you are materialized to a plain, fire and rubble falling from the sky but only one thing truly catches your attention. There in the distance is a body, surrounded by heavy smoke, but with a snap of her fingers Kate calls the soul to stand in front of the three of you. The blonde braided hair is a quick give away as you take in your best friend, your sacrificer. She looks confused momentarily before realizing she died in the fight, gulping as she comes face to face with the end of her deal. 

The white widow had been fighting for years to fill her sister’s shoes after Natasha had once again passed away during an Avenger battle. You watch as Wanda fills the blonde’s head with memories, playing back the life she held as the three of them waited for her to perish. You can see the struggle on her face, the guilt each time her gaze passes your slouched form. The weight of the chains is something you aren’t used to as the more compliant you had become, the more Wanda took the weight from your shoulders. 

Unbeknownst to your best friend, you had fallen happily into a life with the demonic beings. Widely known across the pits of Hell as their pet, but the longer you spent with them the more you couldn’t live without them. There in the halls of their extravagant castle, you were their prized trophy. The life you lived was truly better than any moment that you held on Earth, just as your king had promised, and you couldn’t have imagined a better life. 

“Welcome to the calvary White Widow, you once again will fight alongside your sister; my general.” Kate’s voice is professional, a bit of a hiss at the end of words. She knows that the grudge she holds for this deal is pointless for it brought you into their lives, but she knows that the only reason you no longer fight is the everlasting fog that seeps into your mind. Something that she knows you can never learn of, for it will break the illusion of love and send you into an everlasting spiral. 

Glancing at the two marks, one a simple whimple along your collarbone while the other a harsh slash along your ribcage, glowing bright– unwavering crimson and amethyst. Laid there with love, it makes the brunette smirks as the guilt radiates off of the blonde when she sees them. “You will pay for the soul that you so selfishly sacrificed to myself and the Scarlet Queen many decades ago. For only the pompous would ever offer anything to daemons like us, and your soul does not deserve to rest ever again. ” 

Yelena gaze is stuck on you, watching with shame as Wanda’s magic wraps around your neck. It tightens painfully as it yanks your head back, forcing you to look up. “You’re little best friend no longer exists, but you can meet her once more. Don’t worry if she doesn’t talk, she only speaks to the two of us now.” As the witch speaks, your thoughts start catching up with you but they are no match for her. No matter how many memories of your time on Earth resurface as you look at your former friend, the queen forces them out with a bit of chaos. “Isn’t that right? What are you?” Her voice is all knowing, chuckling as she listens to the blonde’s hopes that her presence will shake you from whatever spell that she has you under. 

“The Undead King’s Property and the Scarlet Queen’s Pet.”

[swan-of-sunrise]

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part II)

Summary: In the wake of the announcement that John Walker would be the new Captain America, (Y/N) lends a patient ear to both Sam and Bucky, and an open-minded Steve gets an important and well-meaning lesson on modern forms of discrimination.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings/Disclaimers: Disclaimer for a frank discussion of racism/bigotry

A/N: Writing more Sam and Bucky and their constant squabbling was so much fun, and it really did wonders counteracting how sad it was writing Steve’s emotions about Walker becoming Cap lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part II) May 2024 Rockport, Maine (Previous Chapter)

Two weeks later, (Y/N) was sitting alone on her wraparound porch and fiddling with Natasha’s old red hourglass-shaped belt buckle, her lost friend’s treasured memento unable to give her its usual sense of comfort as she listened to Sam talk. He’d filtered through a wide range of emotions in the days since Captain John F. Walker had been named the new Captain America – shock, anger, sadness, outrage – before finally settling on heartbreak. Seeing a white man with the same blonde hair, blue eyes and chiseled physique that the country had come to expect in their Star-Spangled-Man-With-A-Plan did nothing short of break Sam’s heart and – although she was nowhere near a trained psychologist – she suspected that it only served to validate his intrusive imposter syndrome. She’d made it a point to call and check in on him every day since, and she was happy that her best friend hadn’t shut her out; just as he’d been there for her during so many difficult times in the past, she was giving him the strength and support that they both knew he needed.

“I decided not to watch that GMA interview that aired this morning,” Sam sighed over the phone. “I mean, why put myself through all that?”

“Believe me, you didn’t miss anything you couldn’t just find out with a quick Google search. The guy’s like a walking slice of plain white bread.” (Y/N) smiled to herself as her best friend snorted in amusement at her joke. “Scott was blowing up my phone throughout the entire thing; Walker had better watch himself, because he’s only been on the job for two weeks and he’s already got Ant-Man pissed off at him.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tic-Tac angry before and now I kinda don’t want to; all the shrinking and growing still freaks me out a little, and I haven’t forgotten how that little shit deactivated my wings like it was nothin’.” Their laughter faded away into a heavy silence that was eventually broken by Sam. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

She frowned in confusion. “For what?”

“For not trying to convince me to talk to Steve about all this. I love the guy, I really do, but with all this that’s happened…it’s somethin’ that he can never really understand. Maybe he will someday, but it’s not up to either of us if he does or doesn’t.” Biting her lip, (Y/N) struggled to think of how best to respond to his statements but he continued on before she could say anything. “So, how’s everyone doing today? Enjoying the warm weather up there?”

“Well, Steve took Carina and Indy for a walk after the GMA interview, so it’s just me holding down the fort; I tried working a little on the first draft of my book but I couldn’t get Walker’s annoying mug out of my mind, so I decided to sit out here and give my best friend a call. What about you? How’s your search for these Flag Smashers going?”

A few days after the new Captain America was announced, Sam told her about the emergence of an anti-nationalist group that aspired to return Earth’s governments and society to how it was after the Snap and before the Battle of Earth: a united world without borders or patriotism that cared about helping each other in times of need. As someone who lived through those turbulent five years and who didn’t necessarily agree with everything the Global Repatriation Council was doing, their initial mission statement sounded appealing to (Y/N); however, their methods were violent and destructive and most concerning of all, they were comprised of suspected super-soldiers and possessed a replica of Doctor Erskine’s serum. An Air Force friend of Sam’s had a close call with the group in Switzerland and for the past two weeks, they’d both been tracking their whereabouts to try and apprehend them.

“Pretty good, actually. Torres managed to track them to Munich and Redwing picked up some aerial footage of their suspected base just outside of the city, so we’re flying out of D.C. at oh-nine-hundred.”

“In that case, I should probably let you go so you don’t miss your flight…” (Y/N) twisted the belt buckle around and around in her grasp and tried not to think about the last friend she’d said goodbye to before an important mission. “Good luck out there, Birdbrain.”

Sam chuckled and replied, “Thanks, Booksmart. I’ll give you a call as soon as I can, okay?”

They both said their goodbyes and after hanging up, (Y/N) sat back in her rocking chair and held her belt buckle to her chest as she closed her eyes. “Keep an eye on him for me, Nat.” Her eyes flew open when her phone rang again and she scrambled to answer it. “Hello?”

“Hey, doll, it’s Bucky. Where the hell is Sam?”

(Y/N)’s shoulders sagged in sudden realization. “Oh, shit. I take it that you watched the GMA interview…”

“Yeah, I did, and it’s about time that he and I discussed how he just threw away that shield.” The super-soldier’s voice was filled with ire and she could hear his agitated pacing in the background. “I’m at your guys’ old place in D.C. but he’s not here, so I thought you might know where he’s at.”

“Bucky, none of this is going to change what’s happened-”

“Do you know how much it hurt to hear a total stranger sit there with that shield and call himself a brother to Steve? Do you have any idea how it feels to have Steve’s legacy tarnished by a guy who would’ve gladly kicked his pre-serum ass if we were back in the 40’s?”

Clenching her jaw in growing irritation, (Y/N) stood and started pacing across the porch. “Believe it or not, Bucky, I do. You think I didn’t try everything I could to get answers for what they did? It took threatening to go to the press for Senator Smith’s office to return my calls and when they finally did, I got an incredibly condescending explanation about what constitutes as government property. If I went any further than that, then I’d risk my family’s safety and privacy, so now I’m forced to sit by and watch a man who I know isn’t worthy of the shield parade around as Captain America while all those asshats on Capitol Hill congratulate themselves for preserving the so-called sanctity of a mantle that they’ve never understood.”

She could hear Bucky sigh. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to accuse you of not caring or anything. It’s just…that shield, Steve’s legacy…it means a lot to me. And to see Sam just throw it all away for no reason…”

“You want answers? Sam’s scheduled to fly out of Joint Base Andrews at 9 o’clock for an overseas mission, so if you want to talk to him then you’d better make it quick.”

“Thanks, (Y/N). I owe you one.”

“It’s no problem, but can you do me a favor and actually listen to what Sam has to say? He’s really been beating himself up over what’s happened, and you coming in hot with angry accusations isn’t going to make him or you feel better.”

“…Okay, okay, I’ll try. For you.” Bucky’s pacing slowed and she could tell he was weighing his words. “How’s Steve handling all this?”

(Y/N) leaned a hip against the porch railing and looked out at the gentle waves in the distance. “When I figure that out, I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I should probably let you go now; by the time I drive across D.C. and talk my way past the MP’s, it’ll be time for Sam’s flight to take off. I’ll call you soon, doll. Give Carina a kiss for me, okay?”

After they exchanged their goodbyes and she tucked her cell phone back into her pocket, (Y/N) looked down at the belt buckle in her hand and gave it a small smile. “Could you keep an eye on Bucky too while you’re at it, Nat? Something tells me that Sam won’t be traveling to Munich alone…”

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

“Dinner was delicious, sunshine,” Steve commented later that evening as they cleaned up the kitchen together; there was a mischievous twinkle in his azure eyes when he spared her a brief glance and continued drying the dishes she’d finished washing. “You know, you’ve come a long way from only knowing how to make spaghetti, tacos and scrambled eggs.”

Narrowing her eyes, (Y/N) playfully flicked some soapy dishwater at her chuckling husband. “This coming from the guy who used to boil all his food and who never touched hot sauce until he was ninety-seven.” They finished washing and drying the dishes in comfortable silence, and it wasn’t until after they checked on Carina fast asleep in her crib and made their way back out to the living room that she decided to bring up the subject of the new Captain America. “Sweetheart, if I ask you a question will you promise to give me an honest answer?”

Steve’s brow arched but he nodded all the same. “Of course. What is it?”

“What was going through your head when you saw the announcement naming John Walker as the new Captain America?”

They sat down on the couch and Steve’s hand automatically found hers, his thin fingers intertwining with hers as he considered her pointed question. “Honestly? For a split second there, I thought that I was seeing a ghost on the television screen.” (Y/N)’s brow furrowed in confusion and he continued. “When I was accepted into Project Rebirth and sent to Camp Lehigh, I joined an entire regiment of potential candidates and over the course of a week, we were ordered to complete training that would determine which one of us would be chosen as the SSR’s first test subject. Doctor Erskine made it pretty clear from the beginning that he wanted me, but Colonel Phillips was gunning for a guy named Gilmore Hodge.” He huffed out a quiet chuckle. “Talk about a horse’s ass. Hodge was a bully; he fought with the other guys in the barracks, he cheated during training to get higher scores and he hated that a woman was the one personally overseeing our training.”

“Wait a sec, was he the soldier that Peggy told me about once, the one she knocked onto his ass with just one punch?” Steve nodded and (Y/N) grinned appreciatively. “Peggy Carter was such a bad-ass. So, Walker reminds you of Hodge?”

“Mm-hmm, right down to the blonde hair and blue eyes. Everything I’d read or heard about him since paints him as the perfect soldier, and it was all summed up in that GMA interview this morning.” Steve bit his bottom and looked over at the wall beside their small piano. He’d spent their first month in Maine framing and hanging some of the sketches he’d completed over the years; scenes of his childhood in Brooklyn featuring his mother Sarah and Bucky, portraits of his fellow Howling Commandos and everyone he’d worked with at the SSR, doodles of the laid-back days spent with the Avengers and more drawings of (Y/N) throughout the years than she could count. Doctor Abraham Erskine’s portrait hung proudly towards the center of the wall, a place of honor for the man who changed Steve’s life in more ways than one, and Steve’s eyes softened a little as he continued. “Doctor Erskine came to the barracks to see me on the night before the scheduled procedure. He told me about the time Schmidt took an unfinished dose of the serum and how he became the Red Skull, but then he said something I don’t think I’ll ever forget: ‘The serum amplifies everything that’s inside, so good becomes great and bad becomes worse.’” His azure eyes flicked back over to (Y/N) while the corner of his mouth lifted into a humorless smile. “The second thought that ran through my head after seeing that broadcast was ‘Thank God that they didn’t get their hands on Erskine’s serum too.’”

Sensing his pensive mood, (Y/N) draped her legs over his lap so she could cuddle up against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “The government did what the government does best: purposefully overlooked the accomplishments of a Black man in favor of maintaining the status quo. It’s a tale older than America itself.”

“But…” Steve’s voice was filled with an uncertainty that she’d come to associate with him being a man out of time. “Sam was the one who decided to give the shield to the Smithsonian. Unless…did he mention if someone contacted him and convinced him to hand it over?”

“No, no one convinced him. Sam doesn’t talk about it much, but he suffers from something called imposter syndrome; it’s when you believe that you’re less capable than those around you, that any success you’ve had in your life is only the result of luck and that at the end of the day, you’ll be outed as a fraudster. Many, many people of all walks of life struggle with imposter syndrome but it particularly affects the BAME – Black, Asian and Minority Ethnic – community.”

The thumb that had been caressing her knee slowed as Steve carefully asked, “So, when Sam said that he felt like the shield belonged to someone else, what he really meant was that it belonged to someone who looked like me?”

(Y/N) nodded. “To you, you were only passing along a superhero name and a vibranium shield to the person you believed was meant to have them but to Sam, he was faced with accepting a mantle that reminded him of the atrocities of our country’s history and a future where he’d be the first and only Black man ever named Captain America. It’s a heavy burden to bear and in the end, Sam chose to put his well-being first.”

“I didn’t think that…I-I should’ve known…”

Sitting up, (Y/N) cupped Steve’s face and gently coaxed him to look at her, her heart breaking a little as she looked into his distraught eyes. “Sweetheart, none of this is your fault. You only did what you thought was right, and there’s no way that you could’ve known any of this on your own. Sam doesn’t blame you, so you shouldn’t go and start blaming yourself.” She gave him a sad sort of smile. “If only there were more people like you and Sam in the world…I guess I should count myself lucky that I have the both of you in my life.”

Her husband’s expression softened and he shook his head. “Nah, we’re definitely the lucky ones, baby.” His thumb and forefinger lightly grasped her chin and held her steady as he leaned forward to capture her lips in a loving kiss.

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

The next day, (Y/N) spent the morning and much of the afternoon on a conference call with Greg and the editors going over the first draft of Assemble: The Unabridged History of the Avengers and while a freshly-inspired Steve worked into the evening on the cover art, (Y/N) set up Carina’s playpen in the garage and kept an eye on her daughter while she worked up a sweat with their suspended punching bag. Her time with the punching bag was when she allowed herself to reflect on the nightmares she experienced as a result of her PTSD; they were usually memories of all the losses she’d suffered at the hands of Thanos, playing over and over on a constant loop in her mind, but exercising helped her acknowledge and slowly push through them.

While she was taking a quick water break and checking Carina for signs of sleepiness, her cell phone began to play the tell-tale tune of Sam’s ringtone. “You hear that, Cari? Uncle Sam’s calling!” The infant clapped her little hands together and (Y/N) grinned as she reached for her phone, but she arched a brow in surprise when she saw that it was actually a FaceTime request; with a shrug, (Y/N) answered and was met with the sight of Sam’s withdrawn face. “Sam? What’s wrong, Sam?”

“It’s probably easier to tell you what isn’t wrong,” Her best friend sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Bucky and I went to Munich yesterday and got our asses handed to us by eight super-soldiers, he took me to Baltimore to meet an old man named Isiah Bradley and I got to learn that the Army once experimented on Black soldiers while trying to replicate the serum, Bucky got himself arrested because he missed a therapy session, and I was forced into an uncomfortable couple’s counseling session with Mr. Stares-A-Lot himself.”

“Wow, that was…a lot.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting your workout, (Y/N), but after the day I’ve had, I just really needed to see a friendly face.” Sam’s expression relaxed when he caught sight of Carina playing with her stuffed white wolf. “Two friendly faces, actually. How you doin’, cutie-pie?”

“Say ‘hi’ to Uncle Sam, lemon drop.” (Y/N) helped the infant wave her chubby hand at the screen and grinned when her best friend chuckled. “Hey, that got you to smile! Did you want to talk about it?”

Sam shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m too tired to go through it all again.”

Before (Y/N) could reply, Bucky appeared from behind Sam and gave her a half-wave. “Nice to see you again, doll. Is Samuel here tellin’ you all about my time in the slammer?”

“Bucky, are you all right?” She ignored the glares that both men were shooting one another and waved her hand in front of the camera to grab their attention. “Hey, if you guys stop doing that weird macho shit, you’ll realize I asked you a question.” Carina let out a particularly loud coo and (Y/N) glanced over at her with an apologetic smile. “Yes, Cari, that was a bad word that Mommy shouldn’t have said, but your uncles are driving Mommy insane right now.” She looked back at the screen and raised a pointed brow. “How are you feeling, Bucky?”

“Well, I feel better,” Sam interrupted as they walked out onto a sidewalk.

Bucky sighed in annoyance. “I feel awful, (Y/N), but thanks for asking.”

A police car’s siren blared through the phone’s speaker, ending as soon as it began but replaced with a familiar boastful voice. “Gentlemen! Good to see you again.” Instead of hanging up the FaceTime, Sam switched to a normal phone call after exchanging a look with Bucky and although (Y/N) was confused by his action, she listened closely as they approached John Walker. “Who were you talking to? Your girlfriend?”

“My best friend, actually. She was checking in on me, but she had to go.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), right?” (Y/N)’s brows rose in surprise but she remained silent, mindful that the phone was on speaker. “I’ve studied the files of all the Avengers in preparation for taking up the mantle, in case I ever have to work alongside them. I sent her an email, you know, giving her my condolences and asking for her personal blessing to carry Steve’s shield, but I guess it must’ve gotten lost somewhere ‘cause I never heard back.”

“That’s because I sent that unopened email directly into the goddamn trash,” She muttered under her breath and heard Bucky cover his snort of amusement with a small cough.

“Look, if we divide ourselves, we don’t stand a chance and you guys know that.”

Sam sighed. “So, what do you got?”

“Well, the leader’s name’s Karli Morgenthau. We’ve been targeting civilians who’ve been helping Karli move from place to place.”

A new voice spoke up, and (Y/N) quickly recognized it as belonging to Lemar Hoskins, Walker’s partner known as Battlestar to the public. “They geo-tagged a location, then scrambled the signal. But our satellites have found their symbol popping up in various displaced communities all across Central and Eastern Europe.”

“We think she’s taking the medicine she just stole to one of those camps.”

Bucky snorted in derision, and (Y/N) could very-well imagine him rolling his eyes in plain view of Walker. “Well, there are hundreds of those all over the planet since the Blip, so I guess you’ll have to look real hard.”

“Good thing I have 20/20 vision, huh?”

“Where is she now, Walker? Do you know?”

“No, we don’t know, Bucky. It’s only a matter of time before we find out.”

“Things are really intense for you, aren’t they, Walker?”

(Y/N) listened to the heated exchange between Bucky and Walker with growing concern, and she was thankful when Sam interrupted them before they could escalate. “Take it easy. Look, Walker’s right. It is imperative that we find them and stop them, but you guys have rules of engagement and all kinds of authorization you have to get. We’re free agents. We’re more flexible, so it wouldn’t make sense for us to work with you.”

There was a moment’s pause before Walker replied, “A word of advice, then: Stay the hell out of my way.”

She could hear footsteps walking down the street and after a minute, the phone call was switched back to FaceTime and she saw Sam and Bucky’s concerned faces on the screen. “So, what do you think of the new Captain America?”

“I think that you two need to be careful around him,” (Y/N) answered honestly, perching herself on the garage’s workbench and shaking her head. “Something seems off with him. I mean, ‘targeting civilians’ was concerning enough, and then he basically threatened you both when you wouldn’t agree to work with him? I don’t know about either of you, but I’m even more grateful that he doesn’t have the serum than I was before.”

“Yeah, me too. Speaking of the serum, it looks like we’ll have to start there if we wanna gather more intel on these Flag Smashers.” Sam glanced over at Bucky walking beside him. “What are you thinkin’?”

“Well, I know what we have to do. When Isaiah said ‘my people’-”

“Oh, don’t take that to heart, that’s not what he meant.”

“No, he meant Hydra.” At Bucky’s statement, (Y/N)’s jaw dropped as she slowly realized what he was intending on doing. “Hydra used to be my people.”

Sam scoffed at Bucky’s implication. “Not a chance.”

“Walker doesn’t have any leads-”

“I know where you’re going with this, no.”

“He knows all of Hydra’s secrets. Don’t you remember Siberia?” Bucky shot an imploring look at (Y/N). “C’mon, doll, back me up here.”

(Y/N) bit her lip and carefully thought their less-than-ideal situation over. “It sounds like you don’t have much of a choice in the matter, but you need to make sure you’re mentally prepared to face him again. I remember Siberia, Bucky, but I also remember how he took control of you in Berlin.”

Sam looked over at Bucky with concern in his dark brown eyes. “So, you’re just gonna go sit in a room with this guy?”

“…Yes.”

With a slow nod, her best friend glanced between the super-soldier beside him and his phone screen. “Okay, then. We’re gonna go see Zemo.”

Despite the seriousness of their situation, (Y/N) couldn’t contain her huff of laughter. “Look at you two, already starting to work together like a team. Keep it up and you’ll figure all of this out in no time. Hey, maybe you’ll even end up becoming real friends!”

“You’ve got some imagination, doll; it’s no wonder why Steve fell head over heels for you,” Bucky remarked but managed to give her a half-smile. “Take care while we’re gone, okay?”

“I’ll give you a call as soon as we know more about what we’re dealing with.” Her best friend’s assured tone and the look of determination that was written across his features helped to ease some of her worry for the pair, and he smiled a little when she finally nodded. “We’ll see you soon, Booksmart.”

“Good luck, Birdbrain,” (Y/N) replied and when the FaceTime ended, she sighed and stared at her concerned reflection in the phone’s screen. “And stay safe.” She pocketed her phone and lifted Carina out of her playpen, giving the giggling infant a kiss on the forehead and tickling her stomach before handing her the stuffed white wolf. “You’re absolutely right, lemon drop. Your uncles are going to be okay because they’ve got each other’ backs. C’mon, let’s go check on Daddy and make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep on one of his easels again…”

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

A/N: The next chapter takes place in Delacroix, so buckle up for more angst and shenanigans! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (Part III)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Stumblin’ In Book I: “The Winter Soldier” Masterlist

Tagging:  @mrs-obrien​​​​​​ @lahoete​​​​​​ @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk​​​​​ @momc95​​​​​​ @savedbystyle​​​​​​ @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat​​​​​​ @marinettepotterandplagg​​​​​​ @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove​​​​​​ @brooke0297​​​​​​ @hufflepeople​​​​​​ @becausewelie​​​​​​ @outoftheregular​​​​​​​ @junipermurdock​​​​​​ @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley​​​​​​ @username23345 @crist1216​​​​​​ @capswife​​​​​​ @lilmschild​​​​​​ @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell​​​​​​ @y-napotat​​​ @mary1raven​​​​​​ @groovy-lady​​​​​​ @ljej95​​​​​​ @innersublimefury​​​ @prettysbliss​​​​​​​  

[sunshinechay]

I know they have a bigger point but

I still think at least part of the reasons they introduced Nan and Mac to make Day and Itt’s relationship seem better by comparison because holy shit

Side note: did anyone else cheer when Mac threw his water at Nan at the party? Because I did

[ohtobeleah]

Does Mickey finally take Hyde on a real date?

Oh for sure, when you finally let him back in. It’s a simple date by the water, fish and chips with a few beers. Mickey plans it all out and little Logan comes with because where else would Logan be if not with you and Mickey.

I feel like you would still have a little bit of a guard up. The two times you’d been burned left scars in your heart—but Mickey was trying.

“We don’t have to rush into anything here.” You say all the while watching little Logan try to eat the sand that Mickey is desperately trying to get out of his hands. “I’m okay just being friends if you aren’t ready or need time to heal.” It was coming up on Logan’s first birthday soon which meant it was coming up the the one year anniversary of Mickeys wife’s passing.

“I never thought I’d move on—“ Mickey explained as he let Logan sit in his lap. “It’s hard to explain because sometimes it feels like it’s far too soon, but other times all I can think about is you and wanting more with you and—I don’t know if that makes me a bad person for moving on so quickly but she’s gone you know?” You know what Mickey means. “She’s gone and she’s not coming back.”

“I don’t think that you love her any less for moving on Mickey.” You tried to comfort him the way you would have wanted to be if you were in his position.

“I like you, I really do.” It changed from love to like and like to love periodically. “I just think you deserve someone who isn’t so confused.” This was feeling more and more like a breakup than a date.

“What are you confused about?” You asked softly and without any malice as you broke of some battered fish for Logan, who took it happily from you with a smile. “I’m serious, because if you’re confused about if an appropriate amount of time has passed before you can love again, that’s just something you’ve capped yourself with.” Mickey just sat and listened as the spoke, he wasn’t about to argue either because you made sense. “Times an artificial construct and no-one gets to dictate when you get to experience love.”

Again Mickey didn’t interrupt as you grabbed some fish for yourself. But in that very moment he was wondering if his wife would have liked you—he decided she would have. You cared more about the people around you than you cared about yourself.

“And I’m not even just saying this because I think you’re a really cool guy and I seriously think I’m in love with you in some fucked up Stockholm syndrome kinda way because you keep shutting me out and pushing me away and telling me day after day you aren’t ready but I keep coming back for more.”

“A Glutton for punishment.” Mickey rubs the back of his neck nervously because he knows he hurt you and he knows he’s lucky you even agreed to have dinner with him. “Again, I’m sorry, I just—I felt i everything was moving to quickly, and I like you, so much, but I’m still not sure how to react when I wake up in my bed and its not empty but it’s not my wife either.”

“So we just keep this friendly until you are.” You shrug, it’s a bid deal to hand over the keys when you’re so used to driving, but for Mickey you were sure you’d do just about anything. “Friends and when you’re ready, we’ll talk again, about possibly being more and if you just decide that I’m not even the one than that’s okay too.”

But the idea of it not being you is so much scarier than Mickey ever thought it could be. So when he leans in to kiss you and he sees you kind of flinch at his actions? He knows he’d actually done more damage than he could have ever imagined.

“Don’t kiss me unless you mean it.”

“I mean it.”

“Mickey—“ You’re apprehensive. “Please—“

“I’m gonna kiss you right now and tell you that I want this, all of this, just—slow, help me?” And Mickey kind of expects you to say no. They he isn’t worth putting back together, he isn’t worth waiting for the glue to dry. That you can’t deal with a man who can’t regulate his emotions because he lost the love of his life and can’t fathom getting his heart broken again.

“Okay.” You whisper before leaning in, taking Mickeys lips hostage with yours softly and tentatively. Because he’s Mickey and you’re in love with him. You have been since the very beginning.

[plounce]

i havent talked about my wol on here in a hot minute but ummm her lore has developed a lot :) she's co-wols with my friend hawke's wol and she has terminal tank disease and of course it goes without saying that she's hopelessly dependent on the catboy bestfriend. she's selectively mute (silent player character = autism legend) and mikh'a, because he has the echo, can understand the sign she uses (which is half cobbled out of sign languages from the shroud but also from around eorzea and half her own creation) without many wrinkles and also he's just very nice and shortly before she met him she got ejected from her family group so she was like YOU'RE MY PERSON NOW and imprinted. also in ARR she was deeply uncomfortable with any social stuff and so mikh'a handled a lot of it for her. it was a very vulnerable time in her life and she will always feel deeply grateful to him for that. but then we get to hvw and mikh'a (that's the other wol) was engaged to haurchefant before That Happened and it destroys him and he's basically out of the game for the rest of hvw msq from the debilitating grief. so that's the real genesis of her life attitude being "i have to take care of everything and shoulder all of the burdens and duties so that mikh'a has room for HIS burdens". also she has that autism feeling of like "i don't feel as much / as strongly as other people" (yknow) and it's something she really admires about mikh'a, how strongly he feels things (even as the trauma starts to make him an asshole), so. yes. he's the face and she's the shield. due to her terminal tank syndrome. anyway in shadowbringers she gets brought over to the first right before mikh'a does, like 6 months in first time, and the way that their deal works out is that mikh'a is the one who is able to channel the light into tomte so she contains it, leaving her with light poisoning and him with the light aether scraped out of him, so that she's gradually growing more and more blank and stoic and unfeeling while he gets more volatile and emotional (light = stasis, dark = change). anyway tomte decides to go off the empty alone because she's operating on her most basic MO of "other people cannot handle this burden, but i can, i must, i will" and just wakes up, has a very one-sided argument with mikh'a, and then teleports away without telling anyone her plans. and then has an even bigger fight with mikh'a in the tempest as all the scions watch in distress and discomfort and then ryne manages to get through to her and tomte like. cries. and that's a big deal. we've rp'd much of this and more.

hawke (my friend if you forgot) has been ensorcelled by bg3 so he has not played past 5.1 so my further building of tomte's co-WoL story lore canon is sort of on pause right now but i think the end of shadowbringers really freaked her out and she stops tanking because she couldn't handle it. she wasn't able to. it didn't work out and it wouldn't have worked out, and she realizes, when the light is no longer poisoning her brain, that she probably would have doomed everybody if she had gone through with her plan and walked into emet-selch's lair alone. she needed her loved ones to hold her back. and in endwalker i switched to samurai because i capped on warrior so im imagining that in endwalker she also puts down the axe and takes up a sword. still throwing herself into the middle of things, but uncertain about taking responsibility. i think this general level of uncertainty and anxiety is compounded by the fact that she's the WoL zenos is fixated on - she's the muscle, she's been the one really taking on most of the primals and lightwardens. so it's like arrrghhh everything is my fault and my arrogance and my hubris (which is so sad because she is so quiet and humble). anyway. idk how we're gonna do the azem of it all (i have numerous ideas and possibilities in my brain - maybe emet tried to resurrect azem at some point and botched it, leading to the rejoined souls splitting from the source soul, and tomte is the rejoined souls and mikh'a is the core source souls? maybe it's a 3 and 4 split? maybe tomte is a different person altogether? i just know that mikh'a should definitely be azem since his themes and story of destructive grief align really well with emet)

anyway. that's a glimpse of the evolving tomte lore. click and post

[anhed-nia]

My ongoing personal Argento retrospective has made me aware that I might like this movie even more than I did when I was watching it a lot years ago. Asia Argento is far from my favorite person, but I enjoy STENDHAL to such a degree that it's as if she's someone else; the woman in this movie is just...the woman in THE STENDHAL SYNDROME, a unique individual who has never been in any other film. Argento's movies usually use psychological transformation as a sort of punchline: When our comparatively normal heroes finally expose the killer, their history of trauma and metamorphosis is revealed, explaining the trajectory of their criminal career. STENDHAL doesn't worry so much about what creates the rape-murderer at the center of the plot--after all, as one survivor remarks, he is much like any number of ordinary men who tyrannize women on a daily basis--as it does about the fascinating real-time evolution catalyzed by Detective Anna Manni's victimization. You could accuse Argento of deploying antique prejudices about aberrant psychology and gender expression...but I don't know, I find the heroine's discovery of her own violence enormously satisfying. Plus I just love every look in this movie. I need to make my own caps, there aren't too many good ones out there and I don't see any of the idiotic "MOO ORLEANS" shirt that she wears when she turns into an outsider artist.

Anyway if I can't have all her shirts and blazers, I should get to have this absurdly expensive Japanese STENDHAL shirt instead. I have a birthday in a couple of weeks, AHEM AHEM.

[cinenthusiast]

Hey! I wanted to watch Video Diary of a Lost Girl, were your caps from a DVD/BR you own or were you able to find the movie online anywhere? Found your blog in the tag and I love it, so many movies I have to add to my already unmanageable watchlist lol

hello! we actually own the blu-ray that AGFA put put so that is how i watched it: https://vinegarsyndrome.com/products/video-diary-of-a-lost-girl

& thank you, i'm so glad you enjoy it! :D