#having the blush taken away from me was devastating

[lancermylove]

Body Swap (HC)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: DB x fem!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Can you do a body swap headcanon with demon brothers? So basically female MC swap body with one of the brothers

A/N: Hope you like it! Anon, who requests the N.SFW version of this. I don't write for gender bender, especially with 18+ HCs. This one is an exception because it's more emotional and comedic, so sorry!

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Lucifer

Lucifer is the most mature in handling the body swap incident. He doesn't make a big deal about having to deal with being in a woman's body, even though he secretly feels uncomfortable.

If you set any rules for him, he will gladly follow them as it is your body, and Lucifer does not intend to take advantage of it.

He asks Solomon and Barbatos to help resolve this situation as soon as possible. But for some reason, he can be himself without feeling pressured to uphold his title.

On the other hand, you don't like openly showing your emotions, even more than usual. You also feel the pressure of being prideful. It almost feels like things are out of your hands. You don't want to be prideful, but the universe forces you to behave that way. Is this how Lucifer always feels as the Avatar of Pride? Your ego also gets wounded more than usual.

But you can finally take off your...Lucifer's shirt...and get to see the scars of his wings firsthand.

Most of all, you enjoy ordering others around. Even though the brothers know that you are not Lucifer, they still get intimated since you are using the first brother's body.

You would have taken full advantage of this by transforming into Lucifer's demon form, but he already warned you not to do that by threatening you with a tough punishment once you two switch back.

Mammon

He is embarrassed! Why did he switch bodies with you? How is he supposed to sleep and go to the bathroom and stuff? Just the thought of undressing makes his mind explode.

When you suggest using a blindfold or closing his eyes, Mammon tries his best to do things without peeking at your body, even though a part of him is tempted. But no! Respect is more important.

Meanwhile, you have the sudden urge to hoard valuable things and 'borrow' things from others, and the most prominent thing in your mind is money. Money, money, and MONEY!

You feel your greed levels rising and have a hard time to control. Sometimes, you have to talk to Mammon to figure out the best way to control your destructive urges.

"Now, y'know how I feel..."

Those words hit you hard, and you forgive him for everything he has ever done.

While you were protective of the younger brothers before, you have a devastating urge to sacrifice yourself for them, even though your...Mammon's body trembles at the thought of what punishment Lucifer will give him.

You make a mental note to help Mammon get out of punishments in the future when you switch back.

Levi

Absolutely refuses to do anything and sits in his room in a fetal position. He can't even bring himself to go to the bathroom or take a bath. Even if you tell him to clean your body, he will refuse.

Though, Levi feels lighter because he can think more clearly being away from his demonic body. It's almost like he can think more clearly.

For some reason, you start to feel jealous of everything...every little thing to the point where it makes you feel down and suffocated. When you start crying from the feeling, Levi panics and tries to calm you down. After calming down, you realize that he always feels this way - no wonder Levi is always down. You give him (your body) a tight hug, making him blush profusely.

Unfortunately for the brothers, when you become aggravated due to an argument between them, your emotions accidentally summon Lotan. However, the brothers don't blame you for it, and Levi finally realizes how scary it is for the others when he calls Lotan out of nowhere.

You spend the most time in Levi's room and get into a habit of changing into his demon form and wrapping his tail around him (your body) just to get a reaction out of him.

This experience brings you two much closer than before, and Levi trusts you far more than before.

Satan

Oh my Devildom, he doesn't feel angry, even when triggered. This feeling is very difficult for him to get used to, but it's a refreshing change. However, he constantly reminds himself that this is only temporary and that he should not get used to it.

He is also mature about the body swap and does his best to respect your body as best as possible. Even though Satan won't admit it, he finds the experience fascinating and finally understands how a woman's body works. Although, he will never get used to random body aches, especially random lower back pain.

You, on the other hand, are not so fortunate. You feel like you are a ticking time bomb of anger. One little mishap, and you feel like destroying everything around you. Satan tries his best to pacify you, but it doesn't work all the time. At times, Beel and Lucifer have to restrain you after you have a rage episode. Then, you profusely apologize and nearly break into tears. It's a vicious cycle.

This makes you realize just how hard Satan has to work to keep his anger in check, and Satan realizes how difficult it is for his brothers to control him when he gets angry.

Once you switch back, you are tempted to tell Satan to meditate, but the thought of a demon meditating is hilarious yet odd.

Asmo

Asmo is the only one who is excited about the body switch. He doesn't feel uncomfortable in any way and actually enjoys being in your body. He has always wanted to see what it feels like to be a woman.

Even though Asmo is in your body, he has the urge to fix every skin problem you have. If you don't have any, he will continue to take care of your skin for you. He may even go as far as to develop a skincare routine tailored to you. If the two of you stay switched for a long time, he will whip your skin into perfect shape.

Meanwhile, even though you feel beautiful in Asmo's body, there is always a voice in the back of your head that whispers 'what-if' scenarios. What if you stop being beautiful? What if you get breakouts? What if no one loves you? What if others think you are unattractive? The pressure to be beautiful is suffocating. A part of you feels very bad for Asmo and can finally understand why he has to be beautiful at all times.

One thing makes you very uncomfortable, and that is Asmo's urge for desire. His avatar needs physical affection all the time. The thought of getting close to someone in Asmo's body is very disturbing, so he helps you out by cuddling with you whenever you need to get close to someone. At least you are hugging your own body...which is still odd to think about but better than the alternate option.

Beel

He doesn't like the feeling of being shorter and less muscular, but that doesn't stop him from working out. However, you will have to remind him not to start with heavy exercises if you don't work as much as him.

Most of all, he feels odd not having to think about eating 24/7. He can actually focus on other things, and it's a nice change. But he does miss eating endlessly solely for the taste of good food.

Meanwhile, you feel like devouring the entire world's food supply. Nothing you eat, no matter how much and how heavy, satisfies you.

You cannot focus on anything except food. The worst part is that Beel forces you to exercise, following his normal routine. He doesn't want his body to be out of shape.

On the plus side, you can see over most people's heads. You will never lose anyone in a crowd. Also, you have a great deal of strength to the point where you can lift an entire house if you want.

For the time you are in Beel's body, you act like a superhero, saving everyone from the bullies and villains. All you need to do is grab them by their shirt and lift them off the ground with one hand. That is enough to make them petrified.

You also get the pleasure of flexing in front of the mirror and admiring Beel's rock-hard muscles to your heart's content.

Belphie

He finds the situation hilarious and doesn't seem to care. Belphie almost has a 'it is what it is' reaction. Initially, he thinks his sloth-like nature will pass to your body but soon realizes that he has a lot more energy to do anything and everything he wants.

Belphie decides to use this chance to fulfill this bucket list before he returns to his sleepy body. Of course, he drags you with him everything, much to your dismay.

You feel sleepy, lazy, and lethargic. No matter how much you sleep, it's never enough. Your brain always feels hazy to the point where you can't even think straight. How does Belphie constantly put up with this? No wonder he sleeps most of the day.

You secretly try to consume caffeine products, but nothing works to keep you awake. Sometimes, Beel has to carry you around because you get into a habit of falling asleep anywhere at any time.

Though you don't tell Belphie, you are secretly happy to return to your body. A part of you doesn't feel like sleeping for days as you got all the sleep you needed in the few days you were in Belphie's body.

----

Epilogue:

After you switch back, you finally understand why the brothers behave the way they do. While you don't say it aloud, you believe the avatars are more curses than anything else. However, you learn to sympathize with them more. How do they deal with the curse every day? They are strong.

So, the next time Lucifer gets prideful, Mammon gets greedy, Levi gets jealous, Satan gets angry, Asmo goes on about beauty, Beel eats endlessly, and Belphie dozes off, you don't get mad at them. All you do is hug them and tell them, "It's okay."

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[time-woods]

evil artstyle challenge

[klausinamarink]

You’re Never Too Much

rating: T | cw: negative self talk | wc: 1.5k | tags: angst with happy ending, hurt Steve, arguing and making up, established relationship, post-canon | prompt: Love is giving them space when they need it

written for @steddielovemonth

Steve knows he can be unbearable with his partners sometimes. 

He can’t help it. He doesn’t have a switch that shuts down the sparkling fountain of love like his parents apparently possess. It just naturally flows his veins without pause and surges anew every day.

His first girlfriend Heidi had broken up with him three days into the relationship, saying that Steve was too much for her. He had been more confused than devastated back then because since when did hugging your girlfriend from behind with a kiss to the cheek become ‘too much’? It only confused Steve more when he saw Heidi’s new boyfriend doing the exact same thing with her and they’d been together for three months by then.

Steve had ignored the tiny pang in his chest, shrugged off Carol’s comments, and moved on. Maybe he and Heidi weren’t meant to be anyways.

But it kept happening with the other girls. Leaving romantic poems in the locker instead of make-out invites? Too much. A bundle of flowers after class? Too much. Wanting to cuddle after sex? Too much. Stay the morning after? Too much.

Then came Nancy and she had adored every one of Steve’s antics that none of his previous girlfriends had liked. He quickly made his own schedule of sneaking into her bedroom late in the evening to help her study because he loved her blush and the bright gleam in her eyes. The day when Nancy told him that he was a dork was the day when Steve felt his heart swell because finally, he wasn’t being too much. 

And then Barb disappeared and monsters turned out to be real.

Nancy stayed with him but it wasn’t the same anymore. She would still laugh at his corny jokes and affirmations but Steve had seen her distant eyes, no longer bright with the same love. Like she had managed to switch it off by herself.

Steve should’ve split up with her. But he didn’t want to be an asshole and leave her miserable with no support who knew nothing about the Upside Down. But she hadn’t pushed him away or told him his efforts were too much. So he stayed.

If he had left sooner, then Steve wouldn't have been told in a stranger’s bathroom that his love wasn’t just too much, they were bullshit instead.

He couldn’t trust himself with another romantic partner after that.

And then about two years later, he and Eddie started dating. 

Everything that Steve had been told was ‘too much’ or ‘bullshit’ became ‘give me more’. More lazy kisses in the morning, more cuddles on the couch, more help with the laundry or dishes, more lovemaking, more, more.

Steve also found out real quick that Eddie loved whenever Steve quoted Shakespeare - especially Romeo and Juliet or Much Ado About Nothing - for no reason except to watch his boyfriend turn and scream delightfully into his own shoulder. Of course, Steve had taken his advantage, dialing it up with the Harrington charm just to make Eddie’s face redder. Whenever he thought that was too much, Eddie turned back around and kissed him with stupid smiles on both of their faces.

For a while, Steve had thought he finally found the perfect partner.

But he forgets that he doesn’t know how to shut his heart down.

—

Steve casually leans against the living room wall, acting totally non-suspicious as hides from view of the front door. He hears it swing open and then Eddie coming inside, the metallic clicking of his crane accompanying his steps. Steve waits just a bit longer until Eddie makes his way to the kitchen. Then he hurries around the corner and giddily wraps his arms around Eddie’s torso, lifting the man up.

“Welcome back-” Steve starts, a petname ready to fall out as he’s ready to bemoan his loneliness. But Eddie’s cold tone makes his jaws instantly clamp shut.

“Put me down.”

Steve obeys, swiftly but carefully as not to agitate Eddie’s leg. He keeps his arms around his boyfriend, squeezing just once in what he hopes comes off as assuring. However, Eddie only stiffens and says in the same cold tone-

“Let me go.”

Steve does. Eddie continues on towards the kitchen, not even glancing over once. Anxiety starts to drill into Steve’s spine, already making its way into the lining of his stomach. Something clearly happened to Eddie that’s putting him in a foul mood.

Tailing after him, Steve finally finds his voice and asks, “Is everything okay?”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He plops down onto a chair, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders are starting to shake. The anxiety shifts into concern as Steve hurries over to his side. “Eds-”

Eddie suddenly slams his hands onto the table, startling Steve back. He whips his head around to glare at Steve, yelling, “Is it too much to leave me alone for one minute?!”

Too much.

Steve swallows the thick lump in his throat, mumbles something he hopes is an apology, and stumbles outside to the backyard. He stares at the pool for a second before he quickly rounds to the side of his house, stopping just along the walls where he always felt the sunlight wouldn’t reach. Steve slowly crouches down to the ground, staring at nothing in particular despite the burning pressure behind his eyes and heart.

He should’ve seen this coming. Actually, he had known the day when Eddie finally had enough of his unbearable actions was approaching soon. They’ve been together for nearly a year. Just as long as Steve had with Nancy before that Halloween party. But Steve’s been living in blissful ignorance, hoping that it wouldn’t happen.

But even that had been too much.

A wet laugh bubbles out of his lips and Steve quickly clamps a hand over it. He feels like a kid, hiding behind his house like he’s avoiding his father instead of Eddie. It’s so stupid but very on-brand.

He lets the tears drop, forcing his hand to remain on his mouth so he can stay quiet. He doesn’t want to upset Eddie anymore.

Crunching stones under shoes approach. Steve doesn’t even look up when he hears a sucking of breath and Eddie’s murmuring voice, “Shit, Stevie.”

Calloused, ringed hands gently cup both sides of his face. Steve barely catches himself from sinking into the grasp. It’s always too easy to enjoy the feeling of Eddie’s hands on his cheeks. Was it too much for Eddie as well?

“Stevie, please look at me.”

Despite his brain screaming at him no, Steve does so. Eddie’s eyes are bloodshot red and tracks of tears practically shine on his face. In another scenario, he would look as beautiful as ever. But instead, he looks like shit.

Eddie’s fingers tap on his hand, the one still clamping over his mouth. Steve shakes his head quickly. He doesn’t want to break down into a sobbing mess and demand Eddie’s comfort.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie rasps out, a line of spittle popping out of his mouth. His voice sounds rough like he had just cried. “I’m so sorry, Steve, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Work was-” He closes his eyes, shudders out another breath, and opens them again. “What happened at work wasn’t an excuse and never should be. Even if I was exhausted and upset, I shouldn’t have lashed out. I wish I could take those words back, baby.”

Steve finally removes his hand, managing to speak coherent words just before the sobbing finally breaks out. “Am I too much though?”

He catches the horrified expression before Eddie suddenly pulls him forward into a tight embrace.

“You’re never too much, sweetheart. You’re just fucking perfect.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear, clear as day.

Steve doesn’t know how they spend kneeling on the ground as his entire body rattles out from crying while Eddie keeps holding him and occasionally gently shushing Steve. Eventually, Steve’s eyes dry out and he feels so tired that he just wants to tuck himself into bed and sleep.

Eddie helps him up and guides him back inside the house. They linger at the foot of the stairs, both of them realizing the same thing.

“Do you… want me to sleep with you still?” Eddie asks softly. He hasn’t let his hand go from Steve’s where it occasionally squeezes around his fingers. It fixes something in Steve’s heart but it’s barely enough to soothe the ache over.

“I-” Steve cuts himself off. Eddie looks at him earnestly, his brown eyes appearing to grow bigger with the still-there shining tears. Steve sighs and continues, “I think I want.. space. Just for tonight.”

Eddie nods, pursing his lips. “So do I. I think that’ll be good for tonight.”

“You won’t leave?” It hurts Steve to ask even though his gut is certain that Eddie will rather chew his hand off than leave.

“I’ll still be here.” Eddie raises a hand up with a small smile. “Especially in the morning when we’re rested and less pissed-off.”

Steve smiles back, “Okay.”

And when the morning does come, Eddie’s still here. When they talk and apologize, Eddie tells Steve again that he never thought of Steve as an unbearable boyfriend.

It makes Steve feel warm from the overflow of Eddie’s love.

[hedwig221b]

Breathing heavily, Derek turned around and marched out of the room, trying to rein in his wolf. He knew he lost control over his appearance: the skin on his face tickled with growing fur, sharp points of deadly fangs dug into his lower lip.

Derek had to see him. Right now, to make sure none of them got to him, to see for himself that Stiles was safe and whole. That the boy was his, still.

Not a day has gone without him dreaming of Stiles. He was a constant presence in the wolf’s mind, driving him insane with want and longing.

No, Derek would never leave him, never give him over to another’s dirty hands. He’ll fight for the boy till death. Tear apart anyone who had the misfortune of touching him.

The door opened after three loud thuds. Derek didn’t have any space for guilt in his heart at waking the undoubtedly tired Stiles up, all of it taken by irresistible want.

Stiles’ eyes were wide open in surprise and just a tiny bit of wariness. His hands were clutching the soft white nightgown, keeping it closed over his naked chest. Derek’s gleaming red eyes followed the tantalizing length of his neck, stopping at the sight of his bare collarbones, peeking out of the gown. A pink sleepy blush adorned his cheeks, cupping his soft half-opened lips.

They ought to have the sweetest taste.

Both of them stared at each other in silence. Stiles was probably too shocked that Derek approached him again at such a late hour, nonetheless; Derek, however, lost any train of thought upon seeing this exquisite being, so teasing in his innocent softness and naïve trust. Anger left him all at once, leaving him breathless at the sight of the angel.

“Don’t open the door so readily,” Derek’s mutter was akin to a rumble. “You’re too beautiful for that.”

Stiles’ breath hitched and his heart started its quick rabbit pace again. He frowned a bit as if Derek’s compliment somehow offended him; he probably didn’t even realize his lips formed into the cutest pout. The most delicious prey was in front of Derek, and he couldn’t even have a taste. Not yet.

He wanted to kiss the tips of Stiles’ long fingers, bite into the soft insides of his thighs, leave marks all over his neck and trace the helpful path of his moles leading to his devastating lips to kiss and claim and take.

But Derek couldn’t do that for fear of spooking him. It was too early. But how could he possibly leave him right now?

Derek gently took Stiles’ slack hand, his heart stuttering at the sight of it, small in comparison to his wolf’s one. Miraculously, Stiles didn’t pull away. Derek lifted his soft hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, then on the inside of his wrist, before inhaling.

The bright red of his eyes reflected in Stiles’ soft brown ones. The blush on Stiles’ pretty face deepened and traveled down, calling to Derek’s predatory instincts to follow, to lick and bite.

“I know you don’t trust me,” Derek grunted. When Stiles inhaled to retort, Derek caught his chin and pressed a finger against his lips, making the boy freeze in place, eyes impossibly wide. The wolf in him howled at the sharp scent of arousal emanating from his body. “Don’t argue. I expected it. Wolves don’t trust easily, too. I just wanted you to know that… I’m sorry. I was selfish and didn’t see what was in front of me. You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of everything.”

It was a thought that grew in his mind, spread to his heart and took root there, reincorporating into a deep desire and a vital need. Derek will take care of him and his little pup, he’ll bring the hearts of his enemies and put them at the boy’s feet. He’ll court and he’ll conquer.

“Lock the door,” he said, forcing himself to step away. “Don’t open until the sun rises.”

Once again, Stiles said nothing. He blinked as if coming out of a stupor, then gave a tiny nod, before slowly closing the door, casting inquisitive glances at Derek. The door shut with a soft thud; a heavy lock slid into place with an unpleasant scrape.

Derek leaned towards the door, knowing that Stiles was probably leaning on it to eavesdrop. Curious kitten.

“Good boy,” he murmured and laughed soundlessly at the shy squeak on the other side, followed by hastily retreating footfalls.

The smile felt unfamiliar on Derek’s ferine face, and he lost it quite quickly. This precious boy made it so easy to feel joy again, almost uncomfortably so.

If only Stiles chose to never leave his side, the wolf would bring him the freedom he craved. It will be his final courting gift. Stiles had no idea what he got himself into by allowing Derek’s name to fall from his lips that fateful day a year ago. He would soon learn the true power of being under the wolf’s protection and possession.

He’ll never have to fear and pretend ever again. His sweet boy. His Stiles.

Read the whole story on ao3

[faerievampling]

Killing Time Chapter 3: The Arrival

Link to Ao3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Female Spawn!Tav

Word count: 5.5k

Warning: 18+, Explicit. Vaginal fingering. PiV. Body Worship. Possessive behavior.

You and Astarion had relocated to a different palace since Lord Moth’s attack on the main palace. Astarion still needed time to prepare for your journey, so he kept the two of you tucked away in a small, quiet castle somewhere in Amn.

The castle was cold, dank, and ancient, so unlike the palace you and Astarion called home, which had been built just half a century ago and kept in most pristine order. 

I miss our home, too. This place is rancid. I wish we didn’t have to be here. Astarion reaches out to you, and you wonder if you’re distracting him from his work. 

I can’t help but dwell on your more unpleasant thoughts. Of course it distracted me. You should be home, not hiding from Moth. Astarion’s mind swirls with anger and jealousy at the very mention of Moth. He yearns to know your body. To take what I have amassed, you along with it.  

This was obvious, of course, and you worry Astarion is going to tangle his heart up again with his fears and regrets.

But here we are, my love, and we are with each other. Please don’t worry anymore, Astarion. You had been in the library, gorging on wine and erotic literature, and now you float to your creator, who highly anticipates your presence. 

You know how I feel. Moth will never have me. No force is powerful enough to separate us. 

On your way to Astarion’s office, you pass by several servants. Their hearts race at the sight of you and you think you dressed quite hauntingly beautiful today for this very reason. 

You wore a devastatingly low cut black dress. With no straps, it was a miracle your breasts stayed unexposed. The sleeves connected to the cut of the neck and were long and flowy; Bethild had told you it made you look ethereal. 

The dress had a deep slit on the side and the skirts danced around you, long enough to disturb one of the servants' own dresses, making the woman gasp at your closeness. 

Yes, even just the brush of your skirt could make mortals bend to you. This woman wants you, so badly it’s pathetic. She is nearly panting and the smell of her arousal fills your senses. You let yourself look at the servant, just a look, but she isn’t much to see. 

She looks like every other mortal to you, nowadays. 

As you open the door of Astarion’s study, his eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight of you. Astarion is ready to worship your body, to get on his knees for you, if need be; his mind is reeling with the thought of pushing his face into your breasts, and you’re almost surprised at his excitement. 

This hadn’t been your intention, not entirely anyways. You had wanted to devastate the servants with your dark beauty, and you did want to hypnotize your husband with your body. But, most curiously, nearly all of your outfits that were taken from your palace to the castle were low cut, so it hadn’t been much of a choice. Of course, your husband was the culprit. 

He gives you a naughty smile, causing you to blush, but you can’t help but notice the exhaustion in his eyes. The stress, the worry, the fear. He’d been dealing with so much recently, and you knew it was wearing him down.

Come, Astarion. You dance along the folds of his mind, sending a shiver down his spine. Take a break. You’ve been in here all day. I’m getting hungry and I miss you. 

You smile as you wrap your arms around Astarion’s broad shoulders, bringing his head to rest on your supple breasts, as he’s still sitting in his armchair. You can already feel his emotions start to shift into something calmer, happier.

“I wish that I could, my love. There is just far too much to be done.” His voice is low, smooth, and you feel the pressure of his teeth and fangs as he gently bites the fat of your breast.

“One of the battalions from Neverwinter ate their horses, we were told,” He says with a laugh, because he simply thought it was amusing. “But, as I am the beloved ruler of many, I graciously signed off on increased resources and many other things I won’t bore you with, my darling.” 

You needn’t worry about these things, Tav. The fighting in Faerun won’t touch us, Astarion assured you. 

You really weren’t worried and hadn’t thought about it at all, so you knew that despite him addressing you, he really meant to say it to himself; that’s when it dawned on you that maybe you should be concerned about this…’war’.

“Fear not. Just let me handle everything, my sweet consort.” He mumbles to your breast. Our preparations are nearly ready, love. 

Parsing through his layers, Astarion is a man of many desires: above all, he is wishing he could gorge himself on your blood and your cunt, which you find to be no surprise. But beneath his more carnal desires, you catch a floating thought about the spawn army.

Shortly after Ascension, Astarion couldn’t stop talking about it. As he amassed power, keeping you right by his side through it all, the desire to create more spawn only grew. 

Of course, the logistics of it all kept Astarion from trying to talk you into it. Even the four spawn Astarion had now were hard to feed, and you couldn’t imagine having more. 

Dwelling on the spawn army brings you back to your earlier days of marriage. Astarion had been more lenient back then, letting you fuck and feed from whomever you wanted. 

“Do you miss it?” Astarion asks, his inquiry abrupt, having followed your train of thought. His intense ruby eyes peered up at you. 

Not really. I like the idea, certainly, but in practice, you weren’t happy with that. You give him a sweet smile, hoping it looks right on your muted, eternally youthful but ancient face.

I do like to fantasize, though, about us with another man or woman. As for the feeding, if it was up to me, I’d drink from you and only you forever.

Astarion nearly moans at your words. “Such a sweetheart,” he teases before moving his hand to the curve of your hip. You lean against Astarion’s desk as the moment gets hotter.

He’s drinking in your body like a starving man, and his hands roam to your thighs, your breasts, and he’s thinking about how much he adores you.

Yes , you think, now is certainly the best time to bring this up. “But maybe you could allow me to use my fangs in battle, like we used to,” You suggest, trying to seem as innocent as possible.

“I don’t intend on you getting that close to the fight, my love,” Astarion’s hands don’t stop roaming, but there is a firmness in his voice. 

“But?” You press as his hand begins to trail up the inside of your thigh and underneath your dress, where he is positively delighted to find you without panties. 

But, if the need arises, yes. Protect your life at all costs. Astarion’s hand has wandered between the folds of your cunt, which is already wet from his worship. 

His fingers slide along your seam, starting from your entrance and trailing your juices over your throbbing bundle of nerves at the top of your mound. 

“So eager,” He teases, which you find rather humorous because you both know he is the eager one. He smiles playfully into your breast before he begins to plant kisses along your skin. “Tell me, what do you like to imagine, when you think of us with another?”

You blush. You and Astarion both already know, and you’re reminded of your favorite conquest as you feel the tip of Astarion’s finger slide between the desperate walls of your cunt. 

You’re sucking him in, desperate for his contact, and he gives you an almost predatory smile.You can’t help but contract around him as he slides his knuckles deep inside.

But just as you are about to indulge with your husband in reminiscing on the memory of a lovely young man you once shared, you are interrupted by the alarm of a sending stone.

“Probably Lae’zel. I must take this.” Astarion murmurs, sighing heavily as he removes his finger from you, reluctantly releasing himself from your embrace. 

Before Astarion moves for the stone, he pats his thigh, urging you to sit. You smile with muted excitement as you sit on his lap, his hands trailing to the root of your hair to nuzzle you to his neck. 

Astarion can’t help but moan whenever your fangs slide into him. You can hear Lae’zel’s message in the background, but you are entirely lost in Astarion’s essence. 

You even feel the shift in his mood immediately, but you can’t break away from your transic hunger.

Astarion rubs your back, signaling to you that you've fed enough. Unlatching your fangs from him is difficult, seemingly only getting harder over the years. Once you’ve come back to yourself, Astarion thumbs your chin, bringing you into a deep kiss.

He’s savoring his own blood on your tongue, and your kisses turn sloppy as Astarion has you exactly where he wants you now: drunk on him and in his lap. 

But you can feel the edging of his anxiety at the border of his mind. He’s desperately trying to keep it at bay. You pull away from him, pressing your forehead against his to break those sweet, fervent kisses. 

Don’t stop, Tav. 

And so, you let his tongue slide between your lips as he takes his comfort in you. You hear the moan that escapes his sweet lips as the kiss deepens. You run the tips of your fingers from the back of his neck to the crown of his head, gently massaging his scalp.

“Gods,” You feel the vibration his words leave on your lips. “You complete me.”

***

Your arrival to the crèche was rather interesting, you thought. The crèche was hidden away amidst an enchanted forest located in the heart of Elysiuma, a strange continent largely untouched by civilization. 

Lae’zel had told Astarion the crèche was called the Crystalline Spire, known for its dazzling tower-like appearance. 

You and Astarion hadn’t yet had the pleasure of truly admiring the crèche, because the moment you walked through the portal Lae’zel had summoned, you were immediately met with swords to your throat. 

You grab Astarion’s wrist before he can react in violence; he opts to transform you both into a red mist.

Despite your shock, you can’t help but notice the diamond-like walls of the crèche, rough and jagged around the edges, but quite beautiful. 

You think it’s fitting for the Githyanki.

You had brought one servant and one of Astarion’s spawn with you; Cynthia, a hard-working human servant, yelped and dropped your luggage. You’d grumble at her if you weren’t in an incorporeal form. 

Astarion’s spawn, Ruth, was a half-elven adventurer who often acts as a bodyguard. Each one of Astarion’s spawn had purpose, and Ruth was just an absolute maniac on the battlefield. Ruth was simply awaiting orders once he stepped through the portal, ignoring the poor screaming servant next to him.

“Tskva. Stand down,” A familiar voice rings out, and you see Lae’zel part the crowd as the astonished gith soldiers lower their weapons. 

Astarion rematerializes your forms, his hand on the small of your back as he pulls you closer to him. “It’s good to see you too, Lae’zel. Now, tell me, why are your little green men pointing their sticks at me and my consort?”

The warriors are immediately ogling you, your form looking dutifully sinful in strappy and tight-fitted camp clothes. They had reminded you of what that Sharran cleric used to wear at camp, which you only know because of a memory that swims freely in your Master’s mind: Astarion remembers when Shadowheart came onto you at the tiefling party. He had been watching then, too.

Lae’zel clicks her tongue. “They won’t do so again.”

We’ll feast on them if they do , you think . Astarion agrees.

There is more prattle amongst the portal guards and Lae’zel, but you’re still adjusting to all the smells and heartbeats in the room to pay any attention. In court, you were often around mortals, just never this close to them, and certainly not around so many at once.

“We’re seriously allying with vampires?” One of the younger guards whispers to another warrior beside him. He thinks you can’t hear him. Foolish.

“Come, let us forget this and move on to most important matters,” Lae’zel turns around, beckoning you to follow. 

The crèche was no longer a hatchery, Lae’zel explains as she leads you through the dazzling, tunnel-like halls, but now a battle fortress, one hidden away from Vlaakith’s warriors. 

When she shows you your sleeping quarters, you and Astarion are both rather horrified. There was a queen size bed shoved in the corner and a set of bunk beds along the opposite wall. 

“This is what adventurers and heroes get, my consort. A shabby little room to share with the servants and spawn.” Astarion spats. “Let’s just move on.”

Lae’zel only glares at him before continuing her tour.

Astarion is now taking note of every secluded corner, every empty cranny, because the two of you are starting to realize that your tight schedule of feeding and fucking would be interrupted by this maze of a crèche, the hundreds of gith warriors flooding it, and the state of your shared quarters.

You begin to silently catalog today’s feedings in your head, suddenly anxious about your eating habits: you had fed on Astarion just this morning, right before stepping through the portal and before that, you had several goblets of intelligent blood. 

Twice. You fed on me twice. Astarion corrects you, his eyes flickering to you. You sense his frustration. Once just after you woke up and the other right before we stepped through.  

You sigh, your train of thought lost as Lae’zel is leading you into a large, elegant chamber filled with warriors in the most decadent of armor. The war room was covered in maps, invasion plans, and balance books. 

It took a lot to leave you and your beloved speechless. 

In the center of the room stood a rather tall, handsome Githyanki warrior; you could tell he was of the most high rank, as the jewels on his armor glimmered purple, and the crown on his head matching. 

The color of his skin reminded you of a freshly plucked peach, ripe for the taking. His hair was dark, black as a raven, and his piercing blue eyes fixated on you the moment you walked into the room, his heartbeat quickening at the sight of you. He gives Astarion a significant glance before turning back to you.

“The ‘True Hero of Baldur’s Gate’ has finally come at last?” His tone was mocking, his eyes sweeping over you, pausing at your hips and breasts before meeting your gaze once more. “The legends of her beauty do not lie. Nor do your own words, Lae’zel.” 

Astarion is humored by this, but he’s starting to become bothered by the gawking and the comments. Maybe the low-cut top is going out of style, darling.  

You can smell the flush in Lae’zel’s cheeks. You steel yourself, trying not to focus on all the heartbeats in the room. 

“I am Kith’rak Elan,” He turns to Astarion, who has a rather mean mug on his pretty face. “Oh, and ‘Astarion the Decadent’, don’t think I don’t recognize you, as well.” 

“A pleasure to meet you, Kith’rak. I’m certain my lovely wife appreciates the compliments.” Astarion nearly hisses, and the hand that was once on the small of your back is now gripping your hip. 

You and Lae’zel glance at each other knowingly. 

Everyone knows we’re married, Astarion. You poke at him. You couldn’t even remember how long you had been legally married. 

Astarion replies almost immediately. But not everyone cares, lover. In his mind’s eye, you see Lord Moth taking you, whispering to you. You then see a flicker of the hundreds of wedding rings Astarion saw long ago, before he ever met his lovely consort. But he doesn’t dwell on this thought long: he never does. 

One thousand, eight hundred and twenty two years. Our first honeymoon was in Tethyr.  

“A pleasure,” You nod your head, your voice low but steady. 

“Enough introductions,” Lae’zel commands, and the Kith’rak and Sarth’s begin to debrief you. 

You and Astarion are to train with Lae’zel and Elan before taking command of several Githyanki soldiers, essentially making you Sarth’s. Or something to that effect: the Kith’rak liked to talk, you noticed, and you tranced for a bit before Astarion snapped you out. 

“King Orpheus made an exception,” The words slither out of Elan’s mouth, the disgust on his face apparent. “But only in function alone.”

You stay as alert as you can while Elan drones on. You feel Astarion checking in on you frequently, like he’s scanning your thoughts for something specific.

What are you looking for? You ask him pointedly, your eyes happening to meet his own. His ear twitches, but he doesn’t respond to you.

Don’t be annoying. Just tell me. You poke again, agitated by the situation. Your hunger was creeping up on you due to the sheer amount of living beings around you.

A mote of melancholy kisses Astarion’s heart. He was only able to minimize your vampiric hunger, not fully free you from it. Over the years, you needed less blood to satiate, but you fed more frequently. 

Lae’zel steals your attention once the meeting adjourns, and she orders you and Astarion to the training area. 

“Although you will be focused on archery, Tav, at the insistence of your husband ,” Lae’zel spats, eyes darting over to your pale lover, “It would be ignorant and neglectful of me to not train you in hand to hand combat. Go on, then. Pick your weapon.” 

You look to Astarion; he had already said you could use your fangs in combat, so surely he was fine with this. 

Astarion clears his throat; he could stare a hole through her, you think. “Of course, old friend. I had already considered it.” 

You roll your eyes at Astarion’s violent thoughts, busy inspecting your weapon choice: in the training room, there were dozens of racks with various types of enchanted weapons. 

The great sword caught your eye, remembering how you used to wield one. It seemed too large, rather oafish, now. But you pick it up anyways, because it’s familiar. 

Upon grasping the sword, it takes almost no effort for you to wield; but it feels strange, like you’re too occupied, but you can’t exactly pinpoint the feeling.

Lae’zel and Astarion are looking at you curiously.

“Hm.” Astarion mumbles. 

“What?” Lae’zel asks.

“Maybe you should just try a few short swords and your fangs, my love.” Astarion purrs. It was almost as if he sensed your hesitation before you registered it, pinpointed the problem before you even knew what the problem was. 

The great sword simply felt wrong in your hands, as your most instinctual movement was more cat-like than what a sword would permit. Following Astarion’s suggestion, you free up your movement and take a more aggressive stance, fitting for your nature as a vampire bride.

“Tch. I’ve never known you to dual wield.” Lae’zel says, preparing her sword as the two of you begin to spar.

Astarion, watching you delightfully but carefully from the sidelines, is ready to intervene if Lae’zel takes it too far. Or gets too close to you, for my liking.  

Oh, please, husband. Control yourself. Lae’zel has charged at you, and you dodge her attack, your vampiric movement being too quick for her. 

“You are ignorant to think I haven’t changed in over two millennia,” You say, your words harsher than intended. Lae’zel’s mind was an open book, and you kept finding ample opportunity to creep your way in. 

The shadow of her Master… she’s now thinking about Cazador, and you violently push the thought away before you can truly register it in your mind.

“I’m sure your Master has trained you well, Tav,” Lae’zel taunts, bringing her sword down onto you, and you barely roll away. “Like a puppy.”

“Watch yourself,” Astarion begins, but you are far louder.

“He’s given me enough power to keep up with you,” You hiss as you catch her arm on your off-hand sword, creating a slice of crimson that begins to flow down her arm. It is deliciously hypnotizing…

“Now is the time to test yourself . Can you control your bloodlust, spawn ? Or will you succumb to your greatest weakness?”

You can’t look away. The smell of her sweat and musk has you remembering how she tasted: her lips, her cunt, and how tangy and delicious her blood must be…   

Astarion is twisted up, feeling some emotion between anger and panic. Not entirely because of your lust for Lae’zel: Astarion never chastised you for your thoughts. He knew it was action that mattered; but, that is not to say it didn’t make him jealous.

Oh, it certainly did. But his emotions are betraying him, and you catch a glimpse of something hidden, something he didn’t want you to know: he doesn’t think you can really control yourself. 

And you start to think he’s right. Before you realize, Lae’zel has you on your back on the ground, swords knocked out of your hands. 

“If only you had more self control. Instead, you husband babies you and let’s you suckle whenever you desire,” Lae’zel looks to Astarion, “You’ve raised a poor vampire.”  

Astarion silently agrees with her. “I didn’t create her to be a warrior, gith. I created her to be happy and safe, forever, by my side. She’s my wife, not my slave.”

“You say I have no self control, but I didn’t bite you,” You begin to argue, “I wanted to, and I’m thinking more about it now-” You grumble. 

“Darling,” Astarion chides.

“But you were overcome with your bloodlust. You spaced out for a second too long, and now, you’ve been defeated,” Lae’zel says, holding out a non-bleeding hand to help you up.

You accept, understanding Lae’zel is making a good point, despite your frustrations with Astarion. Part of you hoped your lusts for your ex-lover would upset him. 

Lae’zel drinks a healing potion, her wound healing up before your eyes. Pity.

“We will try to help you overcome this.” She says. 

“If you put me in front of enemies I can actually bite, I’m certain of my victory.” You say. 

“But can you keep yourself from getting lost in their blood? From what I recall, Astarion nearly drank you dry that night at camp.”

The memory sends you and Astarion both in a whirlwind; you remembered how desperate you were for him as he put his lips on your neck. He remembered how hard he had gotten, and how ashamed he had felt later about planting those first seeds of seduction.

It makes him think of the ‘before times’, about the warmth of your skin, about the beat of your heart, and the Ascendant is nearly shrouded in his self loathing: the feeling is so strong it nearly overcomes you, that burning from within scorching your very heart, the pain almost physical. 

It is shut away after a beat. The following moments are muted. 

You hesitate before you speak, “I was the first thinking creature he ever drank from. Things are quite different for me, Lae’zel. I drink intelligent blood every day.”

“It is something we will work on.” Astarion sounds dismissive, as if he’s already thought it over and come to a decision. 

You continue to spar with Lae’zel while Astarion focuses on his own training, largely ignoring you for the rest of the day.

The two of you were upset at each other. Astarion tried to ignore his jealousy of your lust for the woman, and you tried to battle out your anger at Astarion’s feelings towards you. 

After training all day, your fangs ache almost as bad as your stomach does: you needed to eat, and although your mind was often on Astarion’s blood, you knew you were starting to lose it a bit when you couldn't stop thinking about licking the sweat off his face, just to taste some of his body fluids.

“I must excuse myself,” You murmured to Lae’zel, doing your best not to stare at her neck. 

Despite his upset, of course, Astarion wouldn’t ever let you go wanting: Wait for me in our room. I’ll make sure our bunkmates give us our privacy, Astarion reaches out to you. It doesn’t make you feel much better, because the ache of hunger is hard to ignore.

Once you get to your quarters, the maid helps you bathe before you slink into bed, dismissing her; you order Ruth to stand at the doors and keep an eye on Cynthia, who has caught the notice of several of the warriors. 

Now, all there was to do was wait for Astarion. And despite your difficulties, you could be rather patient when you need to be.

To occupy yourself, you replay all the fights you could remember in your head before moving onto all the instances Astarion saw you fight: it was strange, watching your mortal self take so many blows. 

You had been a fighter, always on the front lines. So weak. So fragile , you think to yourself .  

Flicking through the memories, you watch as you are downed countless times, Astarion crying out for you in agony nearly every time. His memory of your heartbeat during these moments is substantially more vivid than the rest, and you can hear it in your own ears if you dwell on it for too long.

I wish I could have given you even more. Astarion’s thoughts mingle with your own. You can sense his physical closeness now. 

The door opens, silver curls peaking through.

But eternity with you was worth the cost, Tav. My love. “Don’t you agree, pet?” 

You can sense his discomfort at you parsing through some of his more painful memories. However, to your relief, he had decidedly chosen to forget your lusts for Lae’zel. You are mine. You always have been, and you always will be, Tav. You complete me. 

He must be feeling sentimental.

One of his more common thoughts is of whisking you back home, but he’s accepted the decision that was made.

“Yes, of course, my love,” You answer. Astarion quietly bathes himself, his eyes never leaving you, of course. 

Once he’s finally eased his way onto the shabby mattress, the two of you meld together, melting in each other's arms as if one being. 

Astarion doesn’t make you wait, letting you feed at his neck the moment he envelopes you in his warm embrace. His blood pulls you into a trance, as usual, and Astarion speaks pretty words in your ear as you sup on him. 

“My pretty little wife,” He speaks as he pulls you away, the world coming back to you as your senses sharpen. “Have you finally come back to me?”

“Yes,” You grumble, starting to further understand Lae’zel’s meaning. 

“You know, you are the second most powerful vampire in the world,” He says, bringing you closer as he idly rubs the length of his hardening cock on your stomach. 

Yet you so quickly agreed with Lae’zel. I slipped into her mind today, after she’d said that. She thinks I am diminished, weak; that I am hidden in your shadow.  

Astarion rolls onto his back, taking you with him.

You know those things aren’t true. Why pay them any mind? Astarion is undoing his trousers, cock springing free as his hands move between your thighs.

“Quickly now,” He says gruffly, a finger tugging on the band of your panties, pushing the crotch aside as he grasps his cock with the other hand, lining himself up with your entrance. 

You really think I'm a poor Master? That you are my creation, yet you are weak? Astarion directs at you as his swollen member probes you, swiping from your entrance to your nub, spreading your juices along your labia. 

“N-no, darling,” Is all you can mewl from above him as you feel his large tip probe your entrance, pushing between your tight walls. 

Your husband sinks into you slowly, his hands settling on your ass, eagerly grasping your panties as he pushes you down onto him; his slow, deliberate movements aren’t enough, and he needs your friction to meet him in the middle, taking all of you as he inserts the whole of his length in your tight core.

You cry above him, bringing up your nightgown to free your breasts, earning a moan from Astarion as he brings a hand between your legs.

You feel the pressure of his thumb on your throbbing, wet clit as he moves in a steady circular motion, causing you to clench around his cock in anticipation. 

I love you like this. So swollen, filled with my blood and my cock. “Mine,” Astarion whispers in your ear. 

Astarion is about to drink from you, and just as his fangs drag along your skin, inviting you in, he curses, sensing the rumbling approach of dozens of Githyanki men. 

Astarion rolls you over, kissing your lips gently as he parts from you, ignoring the lewd sounds and trailing juices as his cock pulls out of you. 

I don't want them to hear you. And what I want to do to you isn’t forgiving. “You wouldn’t be able to keep quiet, my consort.” This makes you whimper, desperate for more of him.

Can’t you feel Ruth’s growing impatience? He asks, and you nod, because you can feel it, you just didn’t know why he was bothering to ask, because you didn’t give a shit about how Ruth felt.

You wanted to fuck your husband, dammit. Were you not all powerful? All beautiful? Created this way for the very purpose of doing whatever you please? You haven’t been denied in two centuries. 

You sigh as you realize what Lae’zel said was eating at you. What she said hurt your ego, your pride; you hadn’t ever been criticized as a vampire before. 

You think, just for a moment, that you should kill her. You should kill Lae’zel for her insolence, and remind her of her place: she, and every other pathetic mortal, was merely cattle for you and your darling.

You notice Astarion is looking at you, extremely amused and aroused by your thinking, and you snap out of it. 

“Your beautiful mind devastates me, my love,” Astarion purrs, setting your panties straight and redoing the buttons on your nightgown, preserving your modesty as he signals Ruth and Cynthia to come back in.

Cynthia is practically shaking in her boots when you see her, which is all you really notice before you trance again, lost in a memory of a memory. 

After a while, when your underlings have taken care of their own needs and drifted off, Astarion’s light touch brings you back to your waking mind. His fingertips trail along your back, and you sigh, settling into the feeling as tingles permeate your whole body. 

I can’t sleep either. His mind, reaching out to tenderly embrace your own, feels safe, like a warm hug.

You know I do not hide you in my shadow, Tav. I shield you with it. He sighs, not really wanting to continue this discussion, but knowing that he must. Let me be frank, darling. You don’t have half of the self control I did when we first met, but you are ten times as old. But I was starved and beaten to obtain it. I don’t want to deny you, but Lae’zel is right.  

Astarion props himself up on his elbow, staring down at you as he grasps your jaw in his hand, turning you to meet his gaze. You’ve made your choice. We’re here now, and your ability to control your bloodlust is immensely important.  

“Life or death, Tav. And never will you choose death nor death choose you.” His voice is low, merely a whisper. I always feared this would be a problem.  

“I’ve spoiled you,” His voice is rough. To your own detriment. His eyes round, he looks away, unable to hold your gaze any longer. 

You don’t like what you’re hearing. 

Don’t be upset with me , he pleads. 

Your face is nearly blank, all for but a tinge between your eyebrows. You open your lips to show the tips of your fangs. I’ll feel however I want.  

Astarion scoffs as you turn away from him, arms wrapping around you and pulling you to him, so your back is pressing against his muscled form. He can’t decide between dominating you and telling you what you will do, or being sweet with you. He opts for the former, pressing a kiss to your temple bringing a hand to smooth your hair. 

Feel how you must, lover. It won’t stop me from adoring you. 

His soft kisses and gentle touches ease you to sleep tonight, despite your disruption; you know you are safe in your beloved’s arms. 

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

[lavandulawrites]

Hiii! Can I get E, H, T, and W for Poe? Thank youuu 💕

Yandere Alphabet E, H, T and W with Poe

Poe really does something to me<3 (Yandere alphabet request here)

Masterlist

Warnings: Sedation

Word count: 561

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

It takes time before Poe musters up courage to tell you how much he loves you. He is quite self aware so he knows very well that his emotions towards you are unhealthy, but he doesn’t really care. Love is the greatest gift of them all. After a while when you both have gotten to know each other’s better, he takes your hands in his slender ones and proclaims his ever dying love. It is in fact quite romantic, (the man has always had an amazing way with his words) but his lovesick expression pulling you back to earth. It doesn’t take long for him to abduct you after his confession. He is quite vulnerable believing it is important to not hide one’s feelings in a relationship. He of course doesn’t tell you anything you could use against him, he is no near stupid after all.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience with Poe is the day when he kidnapped you. He had invited you out to an outdoor café in a lovely park. He had reserved a remote table which were decorated with beautiful flowers. With a gentle smile he had handed you his latest novel which he said was a love story. You had taken the book with a blushing smile and opened the book. A warm yellow light had enveloped you and sucked you inside a fairy tail. When you opened your eyes you were meet with a bedroom who rivalled those of royalty. He had kept you inside the romance novel for two weeks, letting you out when he deemed you ready. Much to your disliking you were over the moon when seeing him. The two weeks of isolation had really done a number on you.

Tears: How would they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry and/or isolate themselves?

He would be utterly devastated. He only wanted to protect you. Why couldn’t you see that? He would try his best to comfort you. He would bring Karl into your bedroom in hope of calming you down. He would write you beautiful love poems and buy you the most lavish gifts you could imagine. If you isolated yourself, he would give you some space not wanting to upsetting you any further. He always did manage to calm you down in the end.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Poe would never hurt you physically. He might however emotionally manipulate you. He did after all isolate you for two weeks when he first kidnapped you and he wouldn’t shy away from repeating that if it came down to it. Your comfort was important to him, but he would never allow you to leave him. The one time where you did manage to slip past his condiment and out to his grand garden, he had injected you with a sedative the moment you tried to open the locked gates. He had predicted you would try to escape that night, but he would give you a chance to prove him wrong. He was beyond disappointed with your actions and rendered you nearly immobile with sedatives. Next time he would listen to his deduction skills instead of his emotions.

[sebastianwallows]

Unforgiveable

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary - Anon request for "ok a request…. Someone dosing you with love potion and Sebastian being extremely jealous and then finding out what happened and in an act of rage uses crucio on them"

Word Count - 1,082

Warnings - angst, slight violence

"Sebastian!" You nearly collapsed when you ran into him, "You have to help me find Percy." The longing in your voice had him baffled. You both always had take turns being his partner in potions and whoever was stuck with him had basically drawn the short stick.

Sebastian stabilized you, visible disgust on his face, "Uhh, why? We had our daily dose of disaster to periods ago."

You hid your face in your hands, unable to hide the blush on your cheeks as you peeked out at Sebatian.

"Don't you know? I love him. He's so dreamy and I - I can't be without him for this much longer today! I have to find him."

He caught you by the arm as you tried to dash past him, "Y/N? What are you talking about?" You just giggled and pulled away, "Sebastian, you have to stay off of me or he'll get the wrong idea!" With that crushing statement you ran away leaving him stunned.

He was infuriated. Amortentia wasn't something to fool with in the first place, but somebody he knew you were downright not interested in using it like this? And now you were pushing him away because of it?

Sebastian rushed to find Professor Sharp and let him know what was going on, trusting him to be able to track the you down first to set things straight before you did something stupid.

As he ran around the castle searching for Percy himself his anger just continued to boil into rage. Now the bastard must have just been hiding out somewhere, knowing he had been found out and would certainly be in a lot of trouble.

Percy was spineless, but not that bright so Sebastian finally had the realization that maybe he would try to run away - and he definitely wouldn't do good at it.

Sebastian stormed outside and finally found the coward just outside the castle grounds. He was just beyond a gate, fumbling with some sort of map. It was dark at this point and the idiot wasn't even using lumos to be able to see.

Sebastian ripped him up from the ground, slamming him into the stone barrier he hid behind, wand at the boys throat.

"How stupid are you? Using some dumb potion like that on the person who's supposed to be mine. Who always has been mine even if she hasn't figure it out yet."

The boy struggled underneath Sebastian's strong grip and stuttered, "I-I-I don't know, I just, just thought they already liked me from how they were as my partner in class. I-"

Sebastian tightened his grip on Percy's color, pinching the skin that was below it.

"Nobody wants to be your partner!" Sebastian spat at him, eyes wild as he thought about what could have happened to you if he hadn't run into you first. Who knows how Percy could have taken advantage of you, he could have held your hand, kissed you, he could have tried taking your clothes off and you would have let him only to come out of it all completely devastated.

Sebastian dropped the pitiful boy back onto the ground with a thud, seeing him shake in fear. His thoughts were clouded and he had been toeing the line with learning the dark arts, but keeping them locked up. He felt like know was the time to use them, to show a scoundrel like Percy what wasn't okay.

"Cruicio!" The words left his mouth and he felt the sheer power of all the rage going through his wand to the brightly color sparks shooting out the tip into Percy's body.

Percy convulsed and cried out in agony from the ground. Sebastian grit his teeth together for focus before his wand was suddenly knocked from his hand and he, too, was in the wet grass.

"I - how dare you - you -" "Sebastian!" Your hand connected with his face to bring him down from the high of the power he just wielded.

"He's not worth it! We - we have to fix this!" You had tears in your eyes as you offered him a hand to get up. You watched the fire from his eyes burn out as he looked at you and then over to Percy where he layed curled up and panting.

Sebastian kept opening his mouth to speak, to give some good reason why he did would he did, all he could squeak out was, "I didn't want to lose you."

You sighed. You were exhausted from the ordeal with the position, then from helplessly searching for Sebastian, knowing something like this would happen. You just didn't think it would be this bad.

"Turn around Sebastian." Your voice was hard and he listen to you without question, but he was still terrified about what was to come.

You focused with every fiber of your being before drawing your wand at Percy, "Obliviate." You used a few spells to patch up some of his pain before reminding him he was in a lot of trouble for that love potion. You let him know to be much more careful next time he was going to try and run off of the unprotected school grounds as well.

You sank to your knees and dropped your head into your hands. You couldn't just let them take Sebastian away. He was an idiot, true, but he was you're idiot and that meant you had to protect him no matter what, just like he did for you.

Casting a charm to remove the memories of the events was probably for the best anyways, you knew how hard it was for Ominis to live with the aftereffects. It still just felt wrong. It felt like you had just casted an unforgiveable yourself.

Sebastian knelt down beside you, wrapping his arms around you and you just crumbled into more tears.

"I want forget what you did Y/N. And I...I'm sorry. I just couldn't let anything bad happen to you." You held onto him as he spoke. You understood, but it didn't make it any easier for him to be the person you cared about so much.

"I know I can't take this away from you. Merlin, I wish I wasn't such a fool, but I love you Y/N. I swear I can show you in better ways. I swear." The last part was barely a whisper from him as he seemed like he was trying to convince himself he was capable of any better.

[ctitan98official]

Anonymous: I chose angst today. May I request Lady D being seduced by a maid and Y/N finds out. Y/N leaves the castle. Lady D finds out this was plan done by Miranda. Lady D tries to find Y/N to apologise, only to learn Y/N disappeared from the village weeks ago. More weeks go by. One meeting, Miranda introduces a fifth lord to the ranks; a caidou infused Y/N whose memories were taken in the experiment. Miranda smirks as she strokes Y/N's face as she purrs how Y/N is also her lover.

Hell yeah! I love this prompt! Let’s get into it!

Alcina was enjoying a quiet evening in her chambers. She was reclining on her chaise lounge, sipping her favorite glass of wine and reading a novel, when her maid, Maria, entered the room.

“Good evening, my Lady,” Maria said with a curtsy. “I have brought you some fresh linens for your bed.”

“Thank you, Maria,” Alcina replied, setting down her book. “You always attend to my needs so efficiently.”

Maria blushed at the compliment. “It’s my pleasure, my Lady. Is there anything else you require?”

“No, that will be all for now,” Alcina said dismissively, picking up her book again.

Maria lingered in the room, fidgeting nervously. Alcina raised an eyebrow at her, sensing that something was amiss.

“Is something bothering you, Maria?” she asked.

Maria hesitated before swiftly moving to Alcina’s side and kissing her.

Alcina was in shock and it took a moment for her to realize what has happening. She swiftly pushed Maria off of her.

“My Lady, I…I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings.” Maria said.

Alcina stared at her in surprise. “I see,” She said evenly. “While I appreciate your honesty, Maria, I must remind you that I am your employer and it is not appropriate for you to pursue a romantic relationship with me.”

Maria’s face fell, but she nodded in understanding. “I’m sorry, my Lady. I just couldn’t help my feelings.”

“Please remember your place,” Alcina said gently. “Besides, Maria, I am in a relationship with Y/N. I love them more than anything. I am not interested in you like that.”

Maria squeaked but clasped her hands in front of her. “Yes, my Lady.” She said and hurried out.

As Maria left the room, Alcina couldn’t shake the feeling that something was not quite right. She wondered if Maria might try to pursue her further, but she hoped that their conversation had been enough to dissuade her.

A day passed, and Alcina went about her business as usual. However, she noticed that you had been distant to her. She tried to talk to you about it, but you always seemed to have an excuse to avoid her.

Finally, Alcina cornered you in her bedroom and asked you what was going on.

You revealed the truth. You had seen the kiss between Maria and Alcina.

Alcina was flabbergasted. “But, Y/N! I didn’t… I mean-!”

Her excuses stoked a bitter feeling. You can’t be here right now. You begin to pack your things and Alcina tries her best to reason with you while you throw things into bags. You tried to let it go and give Alcina the benefit of the doubt. You love her so much. Maybe you misunderstood or something? Damn, this hurt. You just needed to go and clear your head.

“Draga, I don’t even know her that well! She kissed me!” Alcina pleaded.

“I don’t know if I believe that. In any case, you never even told me about it. I wouldn’t have known unless I saw it. I just need some space.” You tell her.

Alcina is devastated. She should have said something. That wasn’t fair. “I understand that you might need some time to process all of this,” Alcina said softly. “But please know that I love you, and I will do whatever it takes to regain your trust.”

You nod solemnly. You really hope you were wrong about Alcina cheating on you, but… It’s suffocating. You leave the castle with no particular destination in mind. Just… Away from the village. All of it.

Alcina is seething as she barks at her maids to bring Maria to her. She messed up everything with you.

Maria finally walks shakily towards her and curtsies. “Yes, my Lady?” She asks.

“Why did you kiss me?! The love of my life is gone because of you! Why?” She growls.

Maria hangs her head and begins to cry. “It… It… Was Mother Miranda!” She wails. “She wanted me to!”

Alcina eyes widened. What? “Is this true, Maria?” She demanded, her eyes flashing in anger.

Maria hung her head. “Yes, my Lady. I was coerced into it by Mother Miranda. I never wanted to hurt you.”

Alcina’s heart sank. She couldn’t believe that someone she trusted had betrayed her like this. Why would Miranda do something like this?

“You are relieved of your duties, Maria,” Alcina said coldly. “You should leave the castle immediately.”

As Maria left, Alcina couldn’t help but feel a sense of emptiness. She had lost her faith in Miranda, but more importantly, she had lost the trust of her lover.

Alcina was devastated. She couldn’t bear the thought of you leaving her. You had to come back to the castle.

——————————————————————————

As you slowly regained consciousness, you found yourself in a dimly lit room, lying on a bed. You groaned and tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through your head.

“Easy there,” A voice said, and you looked up to see a beautiful blonde woman standing by your bedside. “You’ve been through quite an ordeal.” She coos and sits down next to you, rubbing your back.

You ran your hands along your temples and tried to remember what had happened, but your mind was a blank slate. You couldn’t even remember who you were. “What happened to me?” You asked, voice hoarse.

Miranda’s lips curled into a smile. “You were in an accident, my dear,” She lies smoothly. “But don’t worry, I’ve taken care of everything.”

You looked around the room, trying to find something familiar, but everything seemed foreign. You felt lost and confused, and the only person you could cling to was Miranda. She seems kind. She helped you, after all… Right? “You saved me?” You asked, looking up at Miranda with gratitude.

Miranda’s smile widened. “Of course, my dear,” She said, stroking your cheek. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

You felt a warmth spread through your body as Miranda touched you, and you couldn’t help but feel drawn to her. “Thank you,” You said, voice barely above a whisper.

Miranda leaned in close to your ear. “You belong to me now,” She whispered, her breath hot against your skin.

You shivered at the words, feeling a rush of pleasure and desire that you couldn’t explain. You didn’t know what was happening to you, but you knew that you wanted to be close to Miranda.

As the days went by, Miranda took care of you, making sure that you were comfortable. She spent hours talking to you, telling you stories about the village and the people who lived here. You listened with rapt attention, hanging on her every word. She was also very affectionate with you. Kisses on your head, snuggling with you, and running her fingers through your hair. You have become enamored with her. She’s your everything.

One day, a few weeks after you regained consciousness, Miranda told you some important information. “Draga mea… It’s time for you to assume your rightful place at my side. You will become a lord. The villagers will look to you for guidance. I can’t think of anyone I would love to train more.” She says, her voice excited, but also… Commanding. She’s not giving you a choice in this matter.

You furrow your eyebrows. “But… I don’t even know who I am.” You tell her.

Miranda chuckles. “Who you were isn’t important, my darling. You are mine and we belong together.” She grins. “I love you, Y/N.” She says.

Your eyes go wide. This is the first time she’s said it. You love her too. She is your life. You will do whatever she says. “I love you too, Miranda.” You tell her.

Miranda smiles. Her obsession with you has only become more intense and now that you don’t have your memories… Alcina won’t be able to do anything or steal you back. Even if she makes a ridiculous plea for you to come back to the castle… She will look crazy to you due to how brainwashed you are.

Soon, you are brought by Miranda to a grand hall. You wait with her for the other lords to show up. You’re a little nervous, but Miranda holds your hand and talks to you calmly. “You will do great, draga mea. I know it.” She says.

——————————————————————————

Alcina was heartbroken after you left the castle. She had sent out search parties and scoured the village, but there was no sign of you. Days turned into weeks, and she heard nothing from you. She was beginning to lose hope that you would ever come back. Are you even… Alive? Alcina can’t bear the thought of something happening to you. She’s been a total wreck and the girls are the only thing that’s keeping her from closing in and letting depression consume her.

But one day, Alcina received a message from Miranda, inviting her to a ceremony where a new lord of the village would be introduced. Alcina was beyond shocked. While she was so torn up about you, this was a momentous occasion. A new lord is big news indeed. As much as Alcina harbored ill will toward Miranda… What could she do? Miranda was her leader. She had to go.

When she arrived, Alcina was shocked to see… You standing next to Miranda. You looked different somehow, as if something had changed about you, but… You’re okay. She is so glad. She cried and rushed to your side, eager to hold you once again, but Miranda intercepted her.

“Alcina, it’s so good to see you,” Miranda said, her voice dripping with honey. “I’d like to introduce you to the new lord of the village.”

Alcina’s eyes widened in shock as Miranda revealed that you were the fifth lord of the village.

You look at Alcina and she’s… Amazing. She’s so beautiful. You feel bad for thinking such things when Miranda had done so much for you, it’s just… Alcina is so alluring. But, why is she holding back tears? The look on her face is joyful, but wary.

Alcina tried to reach for you, but Miranda held her back.

“You see, Alcina, Y/N has undergone a transformation,” Miranda said, stroking your chin and giving her an icy glare. “I gave them the cadou, and they lost all of their memories. But now they belong to me.”

Alcina couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had been robbed of her lover, and now you belonged to Miranda. Her heart shattered into a million pieces as she watched Miranda kiss your cheek possessively. She felt a surge of anger and betrayal as she realized that Miranda had orchestrated everything, from Maria’s attempt to woo her to your disappearance and transformation. Alcina felt like a pawn in Miranda’s game, and she wanted nothing more than to strike back at her.

But for now, all she could do was watch as you, the person she fell in love with, stood by Miranda’s side, completely unaware of your past with her. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Alcina knew that she had to bide her time and wait for the right moment to destroy Miranda and reclaim you.

You were happy to be with Miranda, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. Alcina made your thoughts go all over the place. You didn’t know what it was, but you felt like there was a part of your history with her that you couldn’t remember. You wondered if you would ever find out who you really were…

Note: That was a blast for me to write! I hope you liked this!

Masterlist

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

FINDING YOU Chapter 7

Summary: You're in a relationship with Steve Rogers, but his best friend just always seems to be around!

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: angst, self doubt

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 7

“You didn't love her, you just met her!” Bucky laughed.

It was the most relaxed you’d seen him in a public setting and it warmed your heart. Bucky had become your best friend in the months following your trip to the mountains. You were awkwardly watching Bucky, Steve and Peggy having a conversation from a distance feeling afraid to approach, despite your conversation with Peggy, you still felt apprehensive. Your partially concealed attention may have been considered eavesdropping.

“I thought you said she wasn't real.” Steve said with bravado, but you could tell he was trying not to blush.

“My pal here was sure this ‘woman’ was the only one who would love him,” Bucky teased.

“Who was she?” Peggy asked. Did she have a hint of apprehension in her voice? Was there more he had kept from her?

“Her name was Dottie. She was from somewhere over the rainbow. I thought I was saving her, but she ended up saving me.”

“I think he got caught in the rain after seeing the Wizard of Oz and was delirious from the pneumonia he developed.” Bucky interjected.

“I guess in the end she made me feel like there was hope for me. And there was.” Steve took Peggy’s hand. “I still believe it happened. But I know it wasn’t real, it wasn’t love.”

You had wished you hadn't stuck around to listen to this story. Your curiosity for the man you loved had taken over but wanted to scrub his words from your brain. The words Steve had spoken had no malice, but his firm simple matter of fact denial of his feelings, or lack thereof was devastating.

You wandered away from the crowd that surrounded Steve and Peggy lost in a haze of your thoughts. He had never cared for you. It was Peggy, it had always been her and always would be. Had he cared about you at all? Had you imagined the connection you’d felt with him. The whole year you’d spent in each other's arms, it had all been a lie.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself at the bar, nursing a large glass of chardonnay. Oh how tempting it was to drink down to the bottom of the bottle, but instead you stared at the smudged fingerprints of your hand on the glass, lost in a storm of negativity. Every criticism you’d heard, every derogatory thought you’d had about yourself came crashing over you, every insult, every taunt pulled you under, deeper and deeper into despair.

All the years you’d spent at medical school amounted to nothing, the years with S.H.I.E.L.D. hadn’t borne any fruit. You hadn’t made a difference to the world, not like her. You’d been living in her shadow ever since you’d made the decision to join Coulson’s team. What were you even doing with your life now? Deep down, you knew that you had made a difference in the lives of many, but what was a few individuals compared to the legacy created by Peggy Carter. Of course he hadn’t chosen you.

There was a tightness in your chest, a black cloud which descended on you. The darkness spread through you, creeping into every corner of your being, poisoning your soul and corrupting your thoughts. You were so lost in your despondency that you didn’t notice Bucky sitting down beside you.

It wasn’t until he snapped his metal fingers in front of your face that you were able to acknowledge his presence.

“Oh hey Buck.”

“Don’t ‘hey Buck’ me. What’s wrong?”

You opened your mouth with the intention of speaking, but your throat felt thick with emotion and you couldn’t find the words to describe how you felt without tears falling. So you stayed silent, shrugging slightly in response.

Bucky studied your features intensely as you took a mouthful of wine to avoid further conversation. In the end, he decided not to press the issue. He ordered a bourbon and sat with you in silence. Bucky’s presence always seemed to give you comfort, his solid non invasive nature made him the perfect companion when you didn’t want to talk. You were about to order your third glass of wine, but he stopped you.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“It’s just going to make you feel worse.”

“I don’t care.”

“Why don’t I take you home?”

“That’s fine, I have wine there.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but dismounted the barstool. He offered you a hand but you pushed him away. It was only to your detriment, as you’d consumed two large glasses of wine on an empty stomach and you weren’t as stable as you’d have liked.

“Come on.”

You followed him, teetering along until you reached his bike. He handed you his helmet which you accepted reluctantly.

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he smiled at your concern for him. “Come on.”

You put the helmet on and climbed onto the motorcycle behind him. You wrapped your arms around his waist as Bucky sped down the street. The protective helmet was snug around your head and the warmth of Bucky’s back against your front made you feel safer than you had all evening. You felt yourself letting out the grief you’d been fighting to keep buried all evening. Tears slipped down your face in the confines of the safety helmet as you wept.

The ride home was taking a little longer than expected, not that you objected to the scenic detour that Bucky had taken. You were glad that you were able to stop crying before you reached your apartment.

“Thanks Bucky,” you mumbled, not making any moves to remove the helmet.

“Any chance I can get my helmet back?”

“Unlikely.” You didn’t want him to see your red puffy eyes.

You were locked in a stalemate. Bucky wasn’t volunteering to leave and you made no further moves to dismiss him or invite him in.

In the end it was Bucky who made a lateral move and swung his leg back over his bike.

"Get on."

You decided not to challenge him and hopped back on behind him. He made a few swift turns and pulled up in front of an iHOP.

You smiled at the thought of pancakes and your stomach rumbled loudly in anticipation. Bucky twisted round to look at you. It was almost like he could see through the reflective visor surface.

"Pancakes won't work if you keep that thing on."

"Fine."

You pulled off the protective headgear, grateful that Bucky made no mention of your tear stained face. You followed him inside where you found a table in a shadowy corner. Wordlessly, he handed you a napkin giving you a chance to wipe your face. You were surprised at how he had taken control of the situation, normally Bucky was very docile with your interactions, preferring to comply with your every demand. Before you knew what was happening, he had placed an order for both of you and you were silently tucking into strawberry covered pancakes. It was only when you'd finished that Bucky turned on you.

"What happened?"

It wasn't a question, it was a command.

You sighed. "Bucky…"

"Tell me."

The look in his eyes almost frightened you, giving you a momentary glimpse of the last thing his enemies might have seen before their encounter with The Winter Soldier. You blinked and that look was gone. It was almost as though he was angry. It wasn’t that you were afraid of Bucky, you knew you could trust him, but you were glad that those days were behind him. The wildness and fury in his eyes, his dilated pupils a midnight blue, the icy fire you caught, that wasn’t something you’d have wanted to encounter in a dark alley.

Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the look was gone and your friend with his gentle easy going manner was back in front of you. It was so short lived that you wondered if you’d imagined it.

“Ace?”

"I thought he loved me," you admitted dismally. You felt foolish for hoping that Steve might still harbor feelings for you even though he'd made his choice clear.

"I don't understand."

"He said it didn't mean anything. What we had was nothing."

You didn't need to tell Bucky who he was. 

"When?"

"Just now," you waved your fork in the direction you thought the party was continuing. "You were there."

"Steve wasn't talking about you."

"Yes, he was," you said quietly. “Okay, I’m not sure how to even start explaining this. But I’ll try. You’ll have to be patient with this crazy story. Okay?”

“Alright.” Bucky looked at you quizzically, but nodded in agreement.

“So a few years ago, my team and I ended up getting involved in a war against the Chronicoms.”

“Chronicoms?”

“They’re an extremely advanced and ancient race of synthetic, semi-robotic beings that operate in the galaxy as observers. They have a strict code of not interfering with the natural course of life on a planet. With one exception: to prevent an extinction-level event.”

“Extinction?”

“Extinction,” you confirmed.

“Thanos didn’t count?”

“Thanos didn’t,” you shook your head.

“Wow. So what extinction level event were you involved in?”

“Cliff notes version, because that's a whole other story. The Chronicoms planet came under siege and they wanted to establish Earth as their new home. They harnessed the powers of the Time Di’Allas to go back in time to change-”

“Woah, woah, I’m sorry, Time Di’Allas?”

“It’s a giant monolith artifact which has time travel properties. Understand?”

“No, but I’m not sure I’m going to understand more than half your story.”

“May I continue then?”

Bucky held out his hands, as if to say ‘the floor is all yours’.

“So they went back in time to try and destroy S.H.I.E.L.D. And we followed them. Anyway, I got stuck in early 1939. It was barely over twenty four hours but the Chronicom Hunters spent the whole time trying to kill me.”

Images flashed through your mind as you told Bucky the story as you remembered it.

Your heart was pounding as you ran through the streets of New York City. The hunters were on your tail and they were vicious, showing no mercy to anyone who crossed their path. Your throat burned as every breath stretched your lungs to the max. At any second, your body was going to give out. Lactic acid was scorching the insides of your veins, your legs were feeling heavy and you were losing speed.

To make things worse, it started to rain. Dark clouds loomed overhead, reducing visibility and the wet cobblestones made your feet slip and slide as you pushed one drenched shoe in front of the other.

You knew your luck was about to run out, as you rounded a corner, a last minute decision to zig rather than zag. It was a fatal error in your calculations as your feet went sliding in different directions and you landed face down in a puddle. A groan escaped your lips as you pushed yourself up and small pebbles pierced the skin of your palms and ripped your pants. You stood up, brushing your palms off when you came face to face with a brick wall. You sighed, turning to face the opening of the alley, ready to fight for your life.

“Hey!” A voice hissed at you from behind you.

You turned but didn’t see anything.

“Over here!” The voice called again.

This time you caught sight of a slender built blonde haired man behind a fence.  He was beckoning to you. You looked back and forth between the alley entrance and the stranger behind the fence. It didn’t take much time to calculate that you would more likely stand your own defending yourself against a single rather scrawny looking man versus three Chronicom Hunters with sophisticated weapons of destruction. You decided to take your chances with the man.

He held the fence open and you slipped through the gap.

“Come on, this way.”

You followed him silently, stalking through small back alleys until you reached a movie theater.

“We can duck in here.” Steve smiled at you.

“Thank you.”

“Two please.” Steve pulled out his wallet and bought two tickets.

“What movie are we seeing?” you asked.

“It’s something new, just released yesterday. It’s called The Wizard of Oz.”

A grin spread across your face. “I’m sure it will be incredible.”

The two of you hurried into the screening room and claimed two seats in the back just as the room darkened and trailers started up.

“Thanks for helping me out back there,” you whispered.

“No problem.”

“Why did you?”

The blonde shrugged. “I don’t like bullies.”

It was such a simple answer, an honest one. Something you hadn’t heard in a while and you appreciated the sentiment. You settled back and tried to enjoy the movie, every once in a while you glanced towards the door, but no one appeared and your heart rate settled back into a normal range.

The movie came to a close with Dorothy telling Aunt Em that she had been in Oz. "I’m so glad to be at home again!”

The lights came up and people began to file out.

“So-”

“So! Thanks again for helping me.” You smiled at him gratefully.

Now that the lights were brighter, you could see his face more clearly along with the blush which had spread across his delicate features. He didn’t quite meet your eyes when you spoke to him.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m-”

He stopped as you pressed two fingers to his lips to silence him. He stared at you in surprise and it was your turn to blush as you pulled your hand away.

“Sorry. I just don’t think we should learn too much about each other. Those people that are looking for me are incredibly clever at getting information from people. The less we know about each other the better it is.”

“Alright.” Steve didn’t look surprised that a girl didn’t want to know who he was.

“I do need something to call you though. How about Daniel?”

“That’s fine,” he stammered back at you. “You’re not leaving?”

“I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping me out a little more?”

“Of course,” Steve replied eagerly.

“My friends will be back to get me soon. I was wondering if you knew somewhere I could lay low for a while?”

“I think I have an idea.”

You smiled.

“So if I’m going to help you out, what do I call you?”

You thought for a moment, before a smirk crept across your face. “I’m Dorothy.”

“Nice to meet you, Dottie.” Steve smiled. “Come on, before they throw us out.”

You followed his lead. Steve shoved his hands in his pockets as he strolled down the street. You matched his stride as he walked, slipping your arm through his as you noticed that there were few unaccompanied women out and about. It wouldn’t be wise to draw attention to yourself.

“Sorry,” you said as you noticed Steve blushing. “I just didn’t want to get questioned about being out unchaperoned.

“We don’t live in the 1800s anymore,” Steve grinned at you. But he didn’t make any move to untangle himself from you. “That said, I’m curious about where you purchased your clothes. I’ve never seen a dame wear anything like that around here.”

You looked down at your fitted black top and dark jeans. “Maybe we need to make a stop for clothes.”

Steve stopped outside the first store that sold women’s clothes.

“Guess this is as good a place as any.” 

You shrugged. “What if I have standards?”

“Then you wouldn’t be here with me.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Look at me. It’s not as though women are lining up to cut a rug.”

You didn't understand what he said, but you knew you didn't like his tone. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Sell yourself short.”

“Are you really going to bring up my height?” Steve kipped.

You swatted his arm. “Come on,” you pulled him into the store. “Help me find something to wear.”

After a few moments of perusing the aisles, you picked up something that caught your eye.

“So Daniel, what do you think?” You held a green swing dress up in front of you and shook your hips from side to side.

“Looks real swell.”

You laughed and threw it across his arms.

“What brings you to this neck of the woods?” he asked, trying his luck at getting information from you.

“Where else could I find a dress like this?” 

Steve chuckled at your evasive answer.

“Come on, I’m going to try them on.” You lead the way to the fitting rooms.

You spent the next hour parading outfits in front of Steve, trying to get his opinion. Unfortunately he didn’t give you much guidance, he said you looked beautiful in every single one. Eventually you found a winner, a scarlet below knee ruched puff sleeve A-line dress. You knew you’d found the one because his jaw quite literally dropped as you emerged from the curtained cubicle.

“You like it?”

“It’s perfect,” he whispered. He was almost afraid to make noise and wake himself from the dream. “Now that you’re all decked out, I can show you a place where you can stay.”

“Thank you.” You squeezed his arm gently, grateful for his generosity.

You felt lucky to have come across this kind stranger, knowing that you’d not survive if you were stuck on the streets of the city. The hunters after you were ruthless and you definitely needed rest if you were to make it until Zephyr One jumped to the next point in time. You needed to be ready.

You paid for the dress with the little money you’d left the Zephyr One with and the two of you left the store with your clothes folded in a bag. You had decided to keep your own boots on, luckily they didn’t look too out of place and you needed to be practical. The man beside you kept glancing in your direction, blushing profusely when you caught his eye.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You made a great choice.” You grinned at him.

Your expression changed slightly as you caught a glimpse of a familiar looking figure. It made your heart rate shoot up and you slipped your arm through his in panic. You gave a quick glance backwards but there was nothing there. You’d always been a rather jumpy person, it was shocking you’d survived for so long with Coulson’s team. Facing an enemy face to face was so much easier than waiting for someone to jump out at you from the shadows. 

“It’s alright,” Steve said softly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You felt a pang in your heart. This poor man had no idea what he was up against, yet here he was, offering to protect you. The Chronicom hunters would squash him like a bug. Maybe letting him help you wasn’t such a good idea after all. You were about to pull away from him when he spoke again.

“So you’re really not going to tell me anything about yourself?”

There was something about his eyes, the beautiful blue made you feel like you were falling into the sky. Your heart contracted with his offer of chivalry.

“You don’t think a little mystery is exciting?” you flirted.

“I’ve had enough mystery to last me a lifetime. I prefer getting to know people.”

The earnestness in his eyes made you feel guilty. “I wish I could tell you something more.”

“Do you think something terrible would happen if you did?”

You bit your lip, thinking about the butterfly effect, the ever diverging multiverse, the implications on the future. “Maybe.”

“Who are you? Mata Hari?”

“I’m not much of a dancer,” you quipped. “Look, Daniel. Or whatever your name is. I’m not sure that this is a good idea.”

“Why?” His face fell and you hated it.

“I don’t want to put you in any danger. You’ve already done enough for me.”

“I can’t stand around and leave a beautiful dame in danger.”

“Wait? Are you just helping me because you think I’m ‘beautiful’?”

Steve looked incredibly flustered by your sudden outrage.

“No, I wanted to help you. And you just happen to be incredibly beautiful.”

“Nice save, Danny boy.”

“Are you interested in somewhere safe to stay?”

“It’s not your apartment, is it?”

“I think we’d have to be going steady before I’m ready to take you home.”

You chuckled at the phrase. “Good to know where I stand.”

“Come on,” he took your hand and led you down a side street. The boldness of his action surprised you. He had been so reserved until now, this move was unexpected and you loved it. Despite the sweatiness of his palm, you were happy to follow him.

“Where are we going?” you asked.

You didn’t hear his answer as a Chronicom rifle blast missed your face by mere millimeters and hit the side of a building.

Everything after this point happened very quickly. Steve, or Daniel pulled you behind him. His arms raised for a fight. One second he was standing in front of you, the next he was on the floor, out cold having been hit with a stun blast.

“Daniel!” you screamed, your emotions getting the better of you for a moment.

It was suddenly as though your brain had switched to fight mode, it was just you against hunters. May’s training had been grueling but your body now moved flawlessly as you dodged blasts from the rifles, deflecting the energy pulses with your powers until you were close enough to engage in hand to hand combat.  You were able to disarm the hunters and incapacitate them with their own weapons.

You stood in the middle of the street, breathing hard from exertion, rifle in each hand, as it started to rain. The drops struck the street with force, drenching your clothes within minutes

“Daniel!” you patted the unconscious man’s cheek and whispered his name in his ear. “Daniel, wake up!”

The hunters were definitely down for the count, but they traveled in packs and you weren’t sure if the two on the floor had sent out a signal before they shut down. Either way, you didn’t need to be found surrounded by two electronic bodies by the authorities.

Steve groaned, regaining consciousness. 

“Hey, can you get up?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Steve jumped up to his feet. His clothes were already drenched and hair plastered across his face. “Get behind me.” He grabbed your wrist, trying to push you to the side, looking around for the threat. His eyes widened as he spotted the bodies sprawled on the ground.

“We have to go!” You tugged at his sleeve.

“Dottie, what happened?”

“Not now, let’s go!” you urged him to lead the way. “Come on!”

Steve started marching down the alley, away from the Chronicoms with you in tow. Your fast walk turned into a jog, then a full run until you arrived at a large warehouse-like building. Steve stopped in front of a large iron studded door and started fumbling with some keys. You glanced around checking for anyone who might be pursuing you before you and Steve slammed the heavy door closed behind you.

You and Steve both collapsed against the door, panting with exhaustion and relief. As soon as you caught your breath you lay your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks Daniel.”

He didn’t answer. But you noticed a whistling noise coming from his chest. You looked up at Steve’s ashen face and realized that he was still breathing hard. The whistling was actually wheezing.

“Do you have asthma?”

He nodded.

“Got your-” Did they have inhalers in the 1940s? “Got any meds with you?”

He gave you a shake.

You looked around, your heart picked up the pace a little again. Asthma attacks could kill, this was potentially more dangerous than the Chronicoms. You spotted a little kitchenette and armchair with blankets draped across it.

“Come on, get up.”

Steve whined, although it came out as a loud wheeze.

“I know, we’re just going to go over there.” You nodded your head towards the hardback chair and tiny table.

He took the hand you offered him and you supported him across the space. You searched your brain for all the ways to help ease an asthma attack without using inhalers and steroids. As Steve sat down, you noticed that his teeth had started chattering slightly. He must be freezing in this wet clothes, you thought.

“I think you should take off the wet clothes. There are some blankets,” you grabbed one from the sofa a few feet away. “The cold must be triggering your symptoms.”

Steve complied reluctantly, removing his coat and shirt, but kept his undershirt and pants on. You draped a blanket over his shoulders and rubbed his upper arms to try and make him feel warmer.

“Sit up straight. And take deeper breaths. Nice and slow. Like this.” You inhaled slowly and blew out slowly through slightly pursed lips, holding tightly to his shaking hands.

Steve copied you. Once his breathing was a bit more controlled, you told him you were going to make him some coffee. If you remembered correctly, caffeinate was a bronchodilator and a warm drink would really help him warm up.

It wasn’t long before the wheeze had quietened and Steve was looking less gray. His grip on the mug didn’t loosen and he was staring at the steam coming out of the cup but he looked more stable and you felt less anxious about leaving his side.

“Daniel, I’m just going to go and change back into my clothes, they’re still dry. Okay?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t even look up. So you started walking away.

“Who were those people?"

You didn't answer.

"Did you kill them?” Your silence didn't deter him from asking another question.

“No.” That wasn’t strictly untrue. They’d never been flesh and blood to start with, not alive.

“Who are you?”

“Daniel, please.”

“My name’s not Daniel.”

“I know,” you replied sadly. “But the more I explain, the more I have to tell you and it risks so much. Please, I need you to trust me. I'm not a bad person.”

“What happened to those men?”

“I fought them.”

“If you know how to fight, why were you running away?”

“Because I was scared. I am scared. Of messing things up. I'm not supposed to be here. I've already put you in so much danger. I'm so sorry.”

“You could go to the authorities.”

“The authorities wouldn’t know what to do with these people.”

“Why are you here?”

“Ummm-”

“I mean why are you here in New York? You said your friends were coming to get you. What happens when you leave? Will those people go around hurting anyone else?”

You smiled about the fact that he cared.

“They’ll leave too.”

Steve continued to look at you, trying to analyze your intentions. His piercing blue eyes felt like they were boring into your soul. It sent a chill down your spine and you shivered.

“You should put on your dry clothes. Or you’ll catch a chill.”

You did as you were told. It was a relief to be out of the wet clothes and you instantly felt better. You went back over to where Steve was still nursing his coffee, glancing around the room as you walked.

“I’m sorry, you don’t like it?” you pointed at his mug.

“Too much gives me palpitations.”

You chuckled. “I feel that.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you say the oddest things?”

“Yeah, I’ve déjà’ed that vu.”

Steve stood up, slightly unsteady and wobbled over to the sofa and pulled another blanket over himself.

“Are you still cold?” you asked, going over to sit beside him.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine.”

You pulled the blanket tighter around his slim torso, shuffling closer, trying to warm him with your own body heat.

“So what happens here?” you asked, waving your arm towards the rest of the room. You were suddenly feeling nervous about how close you were to this man you’d only met earlier that day.

“Art.”

“Art?”

“Yeah, I sometimes do sketches, illustrations for work purposes.”

“You’re an artist?” you smiled. 

“It pays the bills.”

“You’ll have to show me some of your work some time! Maybe?”

“I’d like that.” 

And he smiled. Damp strands of his blonde hair flopped over his eyes. You reached out and brushed them away from his forehead.

“Still cold?”

You leaned in towards him so your shoulder touched his.

“A little.”

His eyes were mesmerizing. His lips looked so soft. You felt an invisible pull towards this stranger who had dropped everything in his life just to help you. Your noses were almost touching and you tilted your head. Steve closed his eyes, you did the same. Just as you thought he would close the space that was left, you heard him gasp and you opened your eyes in time to see him turn his head and sneeze loudly.

He flinched, not wanting to see your reaction. “Sorry.”

“Bless you,” you whispered in his ear.

He turned back to face you, surprised that you hadn’t moved. You were just as close as you had been. He watched intently as your eyes flicked down to his lips, it made you blush. It wasn’t often that you had to make the first move, you didn’t have the nerve. There was always a first time for everything.

“May I kiss you?” you asked.

He nodded nervously and you smiled, giving in to the pull he had on you. It was slow, he was unsure, but you could taste the coffee on his lips. You took the lead, his lips were soft and his breath felt hot on yours. His eyes remained closed the entire time. It was short, you didn’t want him to feel pressured or overwhelmed. As you moved away, your nose brushed his gently and he opened his eyes to look at you and it was your turn to feel flustered. This time it was Steve who reached out and took your hand.

“Thank you.”

You grinned back at him bashfully, not wanting him to let go of your hand. Both of you sat in a comfortable silence until Steve’s head started sagging on your shoulder.

“Hey sleepyhead, you should get some sleep. It’s late.”

Steve jumped up, the blanket across his lap falling to the floor.

“You can take the davenport.”

You assumed he meant the sofa. “We can take it in turns. I think you should go first. I’m not in the mood to sleep yet.”

You were lying. You were tired, but he looked exhausted.

“Are you sure, Dottie?”

You smiled, he finally used your pseudonym. Steve was definitely feeling the weariness. Even though you’d known him for less than a day, you could tell he wasn’t the unchivalrous type. He would give up the sofa in a heartbeat had you asked.

“I’m sure. Thanks Daniel.”

He handed you a blanket. “I’ll take this one. You need to stay warm too.” Steve kicked off his shoes and curled up on one corner.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” You pointed at the other end.

“Of course not.”

You made yourself comfortable, wrapped in the blanket which now smelt distinctly of the man beside you. It made you feel calm and relaxed. Your mind told you sleep wasn’t wise, but your body had other ideas and you fell into a light slumber.

You woke up with a start, groggy from your sleep. Your phone buzzed again and you silently thanked Fitz for having upgraded your battery giving it a week’s lifespan. It was time to leave. You could tell it was still dark outside, and Steve was still out cold beside you.

You picked up your phone and texted the team. “Send me the location. I’m on my way.”

There wasn’t time for a long protracted goodbye. The Zephyr One jumps were getting more and more erratic, which is how you’d ended up in this situation in the first place. If you woke him, there would be more questions. If you left a note, there was only evidence of your presence. 

You climbed off your seat cautiously, trying not to make any sudden movements, then pulled on your boots. He looked so peaceful but you wished you could see his eyes one last time. You shook your head, trying to push away the sentimentality. It had been a day, you’d known him for less than a day, you couldn’t be this mushy. May would be disgusted by your behavior. You ought to leave. You were going to leave.

You dropped to your knees and leant over the sleeping Steve. You stroked the hair away from face and pressed a chaste kiss on his forehead. He felt hot, hotter than you'd expected. There was a flush on his cheek. Did he have a fever?

You were about to put your hand on his forehead when he stirred. You froze, not wanting to risk waking him. The buzzing of your phone called your attention, you needed to leave now. You didn't want to leave him vulnerable and alone but ultimately you couldn't stay. You got up quietly and padded over to the door. It locked automatically when the door was shut. Good. He would be safe from anyone trying to enter.

You slipped out of the door, closing it behind you. Then you started running hoping that no one would stop you. 

"Wait, I can't believe this! It was real? It was you?" Bucky asked incredulously.

"Yeah," you sighed.

​​

[claireelizabeth85]

Come Home to Me - Chapter 4

John Egan x OC Female!Reader

Summary: When the idea of a past life isn't just an idea or something that is only for dreams.

Warnings: grief, death, suicide (if you squint), lots of emotions.

AN: This chapter has been one of the hardest to write. It's taken me three days to get it all down on paper. With rewrites and deletions and asking friends to read bits hoping they don't think it's toddler garbage. Anyway, I hope you like it. If you have any thoughts/idea or generally want to ask me what the hell I'm thinking - my inbox is always open.

This is a work of fiction and is based on the tv characters of the Apple TV series. No disrespect is intended towards real men of 100th Bomb Group

Part 1 can be found here Part 2 can be found here Part 3 can be found here

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

The letter from her trunk left Lizzy utterly devastated. Tears streamed down her cheeks uncontrollably as she struggled to grasp the weight of its contents. Brushing off Sarah's concern with a dismissive wave, Lizzy returned to the now closed pub, her mind consumed by anguish. Without a second thought, she walked behind the bar, grabbed a bottle of whiskey and a glass, leaving an IOU in its place.

Feeling as though she was coming apart at the seams, Lizzy sank into a chair, overwhelmed by grief. The person she had been just that morning felt like a distant memory compared to the shattered soul she was now. Sitting outside, she poured herself a more than generous measure of whiskey, her hands trembling. Desperately, she tried to summon memories that didn’t contribute to her overwhelming sorrow. Images of her time in the cockpit flashed through her mind—the camaraderie with friends, the echoes of laughter shared during pre-flight checks. But even those memories offered little solace in the face of her profound loss.

"I left you the left-hand seat, didn't I?" She recalled teasing her friend and colleague about his “preference” regarding which seat he sat in. 

He chuckled in response, "Good, cos I doubt very much our Air Exec would appreciate another guy sitting in your lap." She tried to turn away as she blushed. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Major," Lizzy smiled, trying to concentrate on the pre-flight checks.

“Uh huh.  I’m sure you don't, Lieutenant.” Her friend gave her a knowing look. “He tells me, to tell you not to do any stupid shit and to come home.”

She fixed her gaze on the starry sky, whiskey in hand, swaying gently as she sang to herself. The creak of the backdoor interrupted her solitude, and Sarah emerged observing her friend's drunken, sorrowful dance with a mixture of concern and sadness.

Watching Lizzy stumble and fall, her glass shattering on impact, Sarah rushed to her friend “Liz? You okay sweetie.” Sarah crouched down in front of her friend.

"I can't do this again, Sarah," she confessed, her voice trembling. "I can't go through this again. I did it once, I put on a brave face, I put one foot in front of the other because..." Her words trailed off, interrupted by a drunken hiccup.

Sarah gently urged Lizzy to get indoors.  When Lizzy stayed where she was, tears streaming down her face, Sarah wrapped her best friend in a hug.  In less than 12 hours, what had been Lizzy's wild and vivid dreams had turned into a waking, confusing, heartbreaking reality, leaving her with a newfound sense of vulnerability. 

"My soul hurts so much," Lizzy confessed.  "I remember everything, Sarah. The good times and the bad. The parties to remember the dead and those organised because the day ended in ‘y’, and the fact that I will never see any of them again…and to learn that he survived..." Sarah was confused. “Who Liz? Who survived?” Liz screwed her eyes closed at the thought of saying his name “John.” She sobbed “He survived, Sarah”. Her voice faltered, choked with emotion. "I can't…Tink. I can’t go through this again.”

Sarah held her friend close, offering the only things she could, love and comfort.. "But you survived sweetie. If these dreams aren’t dreams and they’re memories, then you survived.  You cared enough to survive." Lizzy shook her head. "You don’t get it. I had to care. I was responsible for bringing nine other guys home. But trust me when I tell you, I felt nothing.” 

Lizzy stared at her hands, not able to look her friend in the eye while she confessed something that she knew she had never said out loud the first time, “But as the weeks turned into months, the deaths, the waiting became harder, the silence in the bar, the not knowing- I had to fill it somehow so I took on every mission going hoping they’d blow me out of the fucking sky" Lizzy's grief was laced with anger. “Oh Lizzy” Sarah held her closer, rocking her gently to try and soothe the waves of emotion that were crashing over Lizzy. Her confession hung in the air like a lingering cloud.

Sarah's heart ached. Despite their decades-long friendship, she felt powerless to ease the torment consuming Lizzy. Gently coaxing her inside and into bed, Sarah tucked a strand of loose hair out of her face as Lizzy gave in and went to sleep.  “I promise I’m going to find out what the hell is going on Lizzy.  I promise!”

--------

Sarah retreated downstairs to the deserted guest lounge. She switched on just one light and it lit up the beams of exposed wood and brick. It was old, as James had said oldest pub in the village but it had been nicely renovated to keep its cozy and homely feel. Sarah couldn’t believe how much Lizzy had settled into this place when they had arrived earlier that evening. Running her fingers over the bar, asking where ornaments were and expressing sadness at their loss. She walked behind the bar with such familiarity fixing herself a drink it would have be been assumed that Lizzy was the owner.

Sarah was determined to uncover the truth behind Lizzy's inexplicable connection to the past. Typing "Elizbeth Waterfield'' into her laptop, Sarah braced herself for the usual search results showing other women of the same name in their corporate headshots.  What she wasn’t expecting to find was a link to a WW2 history page. "Lieutenant Elizabeth Waterfield," the search results revealed, "the only British female pilot to fly with the US Army Air Force during World War 2." Sarah just sat there and stared, her brain trying to absorb what she was seeing and reading.  “What the…” 

Clicking the link, a professional black and white photograph of Lizzy in her uniform filled the screen. “Lieutenant Elizabeth Waterfield,” the blurb read, “was one of only a handful of British female pilots who were attached to combat units.  Lt Waterfield successfully completed 15 bombing missions with the USAF’s 100th Bombardment Group based at Thorpe Abbotts.  She took part in strategic bombing missions over France, Germany and Norway, knocking out submarine pens, factories and other machine centres of the Third Reich.  Lieutenant Waterfield was listed as missing in action during a bombing raid in February 1945.” 

Sarah choked back a sob.  Lizzy had gone missing. How? Why? Was that why she was so distraught about the letter?  Sarah had placed it safely back in its envelope on Lizzy’s bedside table.  She would not pry to satisfy her curiosity but instead would wait and see if Lizzy offered it to her.  Writing down everything she could, Sarah fell asleep curled in the corner of the guest lounge, the heroic exploits of her best friend laid out in front of her.  Her own dreams were of Lizzy falling and she not being able to save her, constantly falling, small planes whizzing around them like flies.  

Sarah was gently shaken awake  by Fred, the pub landlord and James’ son. “You sleep down here all night?” Sarah stifled a yawn and stretched the kinks out in her back.  “Lizzy was a little worse for wear last night, after she was given the trunk.  She found a letter inside that I don’t think she was expecting to see.” Fred moved around the lounge, switching on the coffee machines and the hot water urns for tea. “You’re still not sure about all this, are you?” Sarah shrugged.  “You have to admit, it is a little…far-fetched.  A young 25 years old woman has memories of a time that she couldn't possibly have lived through and yet she was outside last night chucking down whiskey like it was water, crying, grieving for men that have been done for almost 80 years.”  Sarah shook her head. Fred hummed in contemplation of what to say next. 

“You know, I grew up on stories of Lizzy and the rest of the lads.” Sarah was shocked and curious all at the same time. “What? You knew about her?” 

Fred nodded. “Yeah, I mean Dad was only a kid back then, so I’m guessing he doesn’t remember all that much to be fair, but his aunt, my great aunt, was a Red Cross girl.  She was a good few years younger than my grandmother and she had no kids or a husband.  There was a mix of American and English RC girls on the base. 

I remember being at her house a few years before she passed in the 90s and she brought  out all the photographs, the notebooks and her diaries. She’d fill a glass of whiskey and then proceed to tell me all about them. The games they would get up to, the parties they would hold, how bad the weather was then, the mud! She would tell me how she was there to serve coffee and donuts and be a pretty face. She’d sometimes help out the orderlies if they needed a hand with the walking wounded. There were a few photographs that she showed of Lizzy.  One was of her all done up in her flying suit, with a British RAF officers cap on. No one knew how she got there or even why she was there.  She turned up one day apparently with orders.  She was taken to see the CO and the next thing everyone knows, she’s attending briefings like the rest of the men. From what Auntie Jean said, she blended in so well nobody batted an eyelid and yet when you study the war and the RAF, one thing that they want everyone to know is that the girls didn’t fly combat missions.” 

Sarah shook her head, finding the whole situation absurd. "You realise how crazy this sounds, right? My best friend, the girl who is currently passed out upstairs with an impending hangover, born in the 80s, can't possibly be the same person you're talking about. This is like something out of science fiction, like time travel. It's utterly ridiculous. We don't have a police box to shove her into or a circle of stones for her to hug it out!" Fred calmly placed a cup of coffee in front of Sarah, unfazed by her frustrated outburst.

"Well, how else would you explain it?" Fred challenged, setting down plates and crockery on Sarah's table. "I've seen pictures of her, more than once. I've known about her since I was a child, and I was born in the 60s." Sarah was at a loss for words. "Listen, I think Dad donated Auntie Jean's collection to the museum. Everything she had ended up there. I don't know if it's been sorted through or catalogued, but if you want to try and figure out what's going on, feel free to dig through it all." Sarah took a sip of the coffee Fred had brought her. 

Collecting her things and draining her coffee, Sarah swiped the croissant from the basket waiting on the bar. She thanked Fred and took up his offer of the trip over to the museum.  She felt like she was becoming desperate, the more she pulled on this thread, the more she wanted to know, the more she needed to know.  

The image of Lizzy in her uniform was seared in Sarah’s mind along with the information of her being listed as missing in action, her laughing and smiling in the photographs that she found in the Control Tower, she looked happy and content.  But where had she been when she went missing?  How did this link to her dreams if they did at all.  

“Hey Fred, quick question for you. Who's John? Lizzy brought up the name a few times last night, but I haven’t heard her mention him before." Sarah was about leave to head up stairs as she asked the question over her shoulder. Fred glanced up from behind the bar as he stocked the shelves. "Ah John? There's only one person she would be talking about - Major John Egan. He and Lizzy, they were the darlings of the airfield." Sarah paused, intrigued. "Auntie Jean used to call them the Mr. and Mrs. Hollywood of Thorpe Abbotts. John was the hot shot 'over-sexed, overpaid, and over here' American pilot, and Lizzy? Well, she was the gutsy British sweetheart taking on the Nazis from the cockpit of a B-17.”

Sarah’s brain has so many questions fighting to be asked. “They were seeing each other?” Fred chuckled softly. “Yeah, you could put it that way. Jean always said they were made for each other.  Lizzy was a little loud which was unlike most women back then and liked to let her hair down literally and figuratively. She said most people knew about them but no one ever said a thing because they always tried, as Jean said, to keep things professional when at work and weren’t being stared at by the senior command.  That’s not to say she didn’t catch them in a hug or sharing a quick kiss before one of them went on a mission. John was never more than an arms’ distance away from her, and Lizzy would be waiting for him inside the interrogation hut…” Sarah cut him off “Interrogation?” Fred explained the protocol for pilots and crew to be interrogated after a mission to get a record of what happened.

“Lizzy would always be there, with the Red Cross girls, whiskey in one hand and a donut in the other.” Sarah couldn’t stop the next question.  “What happened? What did he do that caused my best friend to sink nearly half a bottle of whiskey last night?”  Fred stopped what he was doing.  He sighed and his shoulders sagged slightly, his face covered with a mask of sadness.  “What did he do?” Fred repeated the question and Sarah nodded. The tone of her question was defensive, protective even. It was one of a best friend looking to settled a score for someone too heartbroken to do it themselves. “I’m guessing she didn’t tell you” Sarah shook her head. “Jean knew more about what happened to Lizzy, but from what I remember being told, John was shot down over Germany and was listed as Missing in Action towards the tail end of 1943. Lizzy never saw him again.” 

Sarah's heart sank as Fred's words hit home. She felt a lump form in her throat, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Oh god," she whispered, her hand covering her mouth in shock, her voice trembling with emotion. "Oh god, I had no idea..."

Fred placed a comforting hand on Sarah's shoulder, offering her a sympathetic smile. "It's a lot to take in and if the letter was from John then I can't imagine what she's feeling."

As Sarah took a seat as she grappled with the revelation. The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place. The conversation she had with Lizzy outside the night before echoed in her mind, Lizzy's raw emotion as she spoke of wanting the Germans to end it all. It wasn't just a drunken ramble—it was a cry of anguish, a manifestation of the grief and mourning that had driven Lizzy to volunteer for every mission available.

A shiver ran down Sarah's spine as she momentarily entertained the notion of time travel, a concept so fantastical it seemed absurd. Yet, faced with Lizzy's inexplicable connection to the past, her grief for John and for the rest of the men, Sarah couldn't help but consider it as a possibility.

Still, Sarah was still a skeptic at heart and was determined to seek a logical explanation, unwilling to fully embrace any alternative until it was the only answer left.

[your-local-baguette]

Blue lock headcanons: jumping on the field after they won a hard match.

Micheal kaiser

A loud and high whistling sound echoed in the stadium, he won, he didn't bother a single second to look at you. He was the one inviting you to jump on the field, you did, sprinting toward him, surprisingly fast, security ran after but you couldn't care. His eyes lit up at seeing you actually saw his sign, once your skin made contact with his he wrapped his arms around you spinning you around happily. Security guards stopped running as they reached, one grasped your hand pulling you away, but micheal pulled you even tighter and took a few steps back. Sending one of these glares to the guards, you cupped his face, both your gaze locked into eachother, he smiled, a genuine one, both of your faces inches away. The crowd feel silent went there was no distance between your lips and his. But they started cheering again, his teammates were like, ok bitch ok. They knew he wasn't single, but genuine love was surprising when we talked micheal kaiser.

Itoshi Sae ( in this u-20 won agaonst blue lock eleven)

He saw you running in his arms, when your arms made their way around his waist he just wasn't able to react. When the security grabbed you to drag you away, that what it took for him to quickly wrap hid arms around you lift you up, away from the guard grip. He send them a glare, you wrapped your legs around his waist earning a little blush but he held you tight. His attention turned back to you, he held you up with one arm cupping your face, dragging your face closer to his, connecting your lips in a swift movement. He might have seen you before the match he already missed this feeling, it lit up everything in him. Everyone fell silent, the crowd, his teammates even the commentators. The blue lock players also watched in surprise, from what they've seen on the field, he did not seem as gentle as he was with you currently.

You brushed his hair, closing the distance of your lips and his ear, whispering sweet words." You did so well, my champion" he blushed at your words, turning his head in hope you wouldn't see the blush creeping on his cheeks.

Julian loki

The man stood tall on the field proud of his achievement, the other team seemed devastated. His attention was taken away from the crowd at the feeling of your arms wrapping tightly around him. He flashed an even brighter smile towards you, lifted you eith ease and spun you around in the air." Im so glad u were able to make it!" He said with enthusiasm in his clear voice. He lowered you to the ground and cupped your face with both of his hand, covering your cheeks whole, leaving a kiss on your nose, forehead, moles everything he could reach. He didn't care about the papparazzi, fans and all that, he only cared about you right now. For him, the whole disappeared right now, including his team and the loud cheering, it was all about you now.

Pablo cavazos

He scored the last goal, his usual emotionless but cute expression. You couldn't hold it, when he turned to see you in the crowd he was welcomed with a sudden hug and kiss, security running behind. He melted in your actions, melting into the kiss you so happily offered. His arms wrapped around your hips keeping you the closest he could to himself. He kept his eyes just slightly opened and dodged the security who now stopped chasing you were flabbergasted. Pablo couldn't care at the moment, he just let himself tense down and welcome your affections, relaxing his whole body against yours. His hand made its way to your ass, signaling you something, you gladly jumped and he catched you, he felt like you were much closer. When you both parted, your foreheads rested against eachother's, staring deep into the others eyes. He loved this kind of moments, when it was only you and him....

[jesuisici33]

i'm sorry i'm so late. Tarlos?

hi! happy birthday! here's your little tarlos fic! <3

TK is nursing his mineral water as he waits for Carlos to show up. It’s been a long time since they’ve had a night out and honestly, they’ve both needed it. Nothing too fancy - that’s what they’re honeymoon was for - a simple night out at the bar is what they both wanted. A night to relax, to have fun and find some sort of normalcy after all that’s happened to them these last few weeks. 

Plus it would be the first time they’ve gone out as husbands. That’s something TK still can’t believe he gets to Carlos. His husband. He thinks he’s going to be using that name more than baby or babe with how much he loves to call Carlos that. 

TK glances up as a hand reaches over his line of sight, signaling to the bartender for a drink. For a brief moment he thinks it’s Carlos, but the hope is gone when he realizes the skin of the arm is too light for it to be his husband’s. But then his eyes light up when he sees the tattoo on the arm.

“Hey! I have a bearded dragon as a pet! His name is Lou II.” He points at the guy’s tattoo, a red bearded dragon curled around his bicep. TK quickly pulls up pictures on his phone to show him. “My husband Carlos got him for me after we had to give up our first pet. Isn’t he cute?”

The guy, taken aback by TK’s sudden friendliness, soon turns on a smile as he sees the pictures. “Oh, man what a cutie! I miss having a bearded dragon so much. When I lost Fluffy, I was devastated. Why I got the tattoo. I’m Matt by the way.” 

“ TK. Fluffy?”

Matt blushes. He now has his drink and takes a sip from it. “My mom wanted me to get a dog or a cat as a kid, but when we went to the pet store it’s the reptiles that caught my eye. I named him Fluffy to placate her.”

TK laughs. “I love that! If you want you can always come over and meet Lou II, he could use some more friends.”

At just that moment, the familiar arm of Carlos snakes its way around TK. “Hey, baby. Sorry I’m so late.” TK accepts the offered peck. At least, what he thought is going to be a peck. Instead he’s met with a kiss with more tongue than he’s used to for a simple greeting. TK hums in surprised satisfaction as Carlos pulls away. “Hi, I’m Carlos, TK’s husband,” he says -no, declares - to Matt. 

TK tries to hide a snicker. 

“Husband,” TK starts, playing along with Carlos’ jealousy. Matt looks at Carlos more amused than intimidated. “I was just telling Matt about Lou II. Turns out he likes bearded dragons as well.” 

Carlos’ expression turns to one of disgust. “Oh. How…nice.”

TK swipes through photos until he finds the one he wants. “Here’s my favorite! Remember this one, babe?” He shows it first to Matt who makes an aw sound before showing it to Carlos. It’s a picture of Carlos cradling Lou II with an exasperating fond smile on his face not unlike the one he gives TK as he talks through TV with him.

Carlos takes one glance at the picture before commenting, “That’s photoshop.” 

TK and Matt burst out laughing.

also on ao3

[drawingangel666]

Could you do a Percival De Rolo x reader, arranged Marriage. The reader and Percival were promised to eachother before the demise of his family, they met several times a year. Later on after he reclaims his home he and the reader run into eachother, the reader is a ranger going to help fight the dragons. His party teases him.

Of course ^^ It sounds really interesting. (Sorry for the delay) (Also, I based this on the series they have done because I have just started watching critical role, since I can't concentrate or watch something for too long I ain't really passed the first episode)

Lost Fiancé

Pairing: Percival De Rolo x Reader

Warnings: reader that curses, cursing in general, blood, violence, flirting, Scanlan is a warning on his own

Pronouns of the reader: I'll use (as it isn't specified) she/her, they/them and he/him

Reader's POV

Whitestone was under the power of Briarwoods. I was scared, they had taken over De Rolo's mansion, and soon, they took over everything.

I was devastated when I didn't hear of Percy in a long time, they had probably killed him. And soon, the Briarwoods will come for my family, the second most wealthy family of Whitestone.

Even though our marriage was arranged, I had taken a liking to Percy, we would have married in two years. But of course, now everything is fucked up

I have to escape Whitestone as soon as possible.

[Some training and years later]

I was walking down a street, I was working as a mercenary (even though I am a ranger), searching for a group crazy enough to come back to Whitestone with me and kill the Briarwoods.

Soon a tavern opened it's doors, showing a huge group of drunk people. One of them had white hair, even though, his face was really familiar to me.

They stopped, or tried to, as they were tipsy. The white haired guy looked at me through his glasses, he was the only one that seemed a little bit more sober.

´Y....Y/N? he asked in disbelieve. I looked at him, noticing his familiar voice. ´Percy?`

I ran to him, a smile forming on my face, my problems momentarily forgotten.

´Oh my lord! It's been years! I thought you were dead!` I screamed, hugging him, quickly getting away when I heard a wolf whistle form a gnome in purple clothing.

´I thought YOU were dead! Percy screamed back, a small tear running down his cheek. ´The Briarwoods showed me your corpse, how are you alive?` he asked.

I looked at him bewildered. ´What? I asked ´I have never been close to any of them, nor did they catch me when I escaped` I said.

´They must have fooled me he said, looking at me ´You've gotten prettier, I still remember when our parents told me we were getting married` he said, a light tint of blush appearing on his cheeks.

´Oh! You two! Get a fucking room! Said the gnome. ´Or invite me, I wouldn't say no` he looked at me, winking.

´Oh shut it Scanlan` said a dark-haired half-elf woman.

Scanlan shook it off and soon he pulled his pants down to pee near an announcement board, where a guard was putting up something.

While peeing on the guard, Scanlan got the paper that was being put up.

As they were deciding wether or not accept that mission, I offered my help. Percy soon accepted, getting knowing looks from his groupmates.

´Let's go` Percy said, taking ahold of my hand and going with the party towards the new mission.

[roosterisdaddy36]

A Detective Quinn Christmas Blurb

Wrote this for @punk-in-docs since I had Detective Quinn brain rot. Course I couldn’t resist our favorite serial killer. Enjoy Libby!  

The streets of restless LA were currently coated in a blanket of pure white as a snowstorm passed. Birdie never was one to go overboard to celebrate the holiday but when a certain detective disclosed to her that he has never participated in what he called a “useless means to go broke” when he saw how devastated his pretty bird was at the confession he offered for her to change his mind, which she has taken to heart and has pulled out all the stops to really put a smile on his face. Gingerbread men decorated and cooling as she slid a tray of raw chocolate chip cookies into her oven, Frank Sinatra quietly playing in the background as Birdie swayed to the music wiping her counters clean. Not hearing her front door close loudly followed by grumbling from Quinn bitching about how cold it is outside. “I fucking hate winter! It's always cold people are ruder cause they're cranky and then there's this god-forsaken holiday Chris-” He paused slowly sliding off his gloves and scarf watching her, his woman swaying gently to the singing of Frank Sinatra as she stirred something in the pot on the stove. He could hear his own heart racing at the domestic bliss he was observing, Birdie didn’t notice him until she felt cold hands snake around her waist but she knew who it was just by the smell of his cologne. He peppered her neck with gentle loving kisses as they continued to sway, pine and gingerbread wafting around the apartment while they danced. “Not bad for a Grinch. But go change out of your clothes and put something comfortable on…dinner is almost done and so are the cookies.” There on their bed was a pair of grey sweatpants and his black hoodie calling to him while he stripped away the stress of the day. He shut off his phone when he entered the kitchen again but not seeing Birdie as the table was set already and food was being served. Birdie’s parents mainly her father, notified her that they were coming for Christmas so she was nesting basically wanting tonight to go somewhat smoothly seeing as this would be Joseph’s first Christmas with her. “Darling, why are there two extra plates? You didn’t invite those jackasses from work did you?” She smiled fondly at him before pulling him into a mind-numbing kiss to shut him up not that he minded it when Birdie took charge. “My parents are coming. So this is going to be awkward as fuck but I really wanted my Dad to meet you and well… it has been a while since I saw my parents.” Birdie sighed before cleaning up the kitchen counters, Quinn has never seen her so nervous flustered yes but nervous to the point of biting her nails when he wasn't looking no.  “Calm down love I’m sure everything will be great okay? We’ll have a nice dinner I’ll charm your parents then I’ll drag your pretty little ass to the bedroom and give you a present that will keep me on Santa’s naughty list.” Normally his sexual comments would have her blushing but she only cracked a smile while they cuddled on the couch waiting. After waiting for a few hours there was finally someone knocking on Birdie’s door but sadly it wasn’t who she was expecting but Birdie’s disappointment didn’t deter her elderly neighbor. “Good Evening child, I just got done baking and remembered that you enjoy my banana bread and peanut butter fudge so I brought you some of the extras that were left behind. I hope you have a wonderful Christmas my dear especially with that gentleman I’ve seen around.” The old woman winked picking up the delicately wrapped wicker basket filled beyond to the brim with baked treats and a mug filled with hot chocolate packets. Joe smiled watching Birdie melt at the old woman’s kindness and it did pick up her mood a little more after closing her door. “They’re not coming are they sweetheart?” Seeing her head shake in a no followed by a sniffle made his heart break more for his poor girlfriend but an idea struck his head as he glanced at the bare Christmas tree. “Okay tell you what. How about I go get changed into some Christmas pajamas and we’ll turn on whatever movie you want while we decorate the tree. Sound like a deal songbird?” Birdie’s love for Quinn grew three times in size that night while they danced and decorated their tree together. Quinn would never admit it but he ended up wanting to celebrate Christmas with his little songbird every year. Birdie caught him staring at her while she smiled softly the warm glow from the candles enveloped her in an angelic light that Quinn wished he had a camera so he could keep it in his wallet. He loved the way her eyes slightly crinkled when she smiled or the way her tongue poked out slightly while she was focusing on wrapping the tinsel around the tree, he loved that woman more than he would ever speak into words. “Hey baby?” She turned towards him as he held up a mistletoe above their heads slowly capturing her lips with his gently, “Merry Christmas my love.” “Merry Christmas to you too Joe..but does this mean you like Christmas now?” A deep joyful laugh erupted out of him as he pulled her towards his chest giving her his answer with a heart stopping kiss. “Of course as long as its with you.”

[muichiro-obsessed]

Love written with blood.

A/n- I felt like writing a depressing story, so here we are! Enjoy!

Tw- suicide, death, bullying, mute person, sapphic love, and murder..

On with the story...

It was a normal day in the Williams residence. But with the sound of an instrument case clicking open and shut, suddenly the house was filled with song. It was a beautiful piece, and the music was coming from the now only child of the Williams family- Michelle Williams. She used to have an older brother, who was three years older than her, but he had passed away in a school shooting protecting his classmates. Michelle was devastated at the loss of her older brother, as he was the only person she felt she had truly loved. They lived on their own when their parents died in a car accident a few years back, when Michelle was 12 and her brother was 15. They had a tough life, but got by somehow, until the older brother passed. Michelle was taken to an adoption center, in which she was adopted in a few months after arriving. She found herself mute, not ever speaking unless she was sure she was alone. Her form of self expression was through music, and she became a clarinetist.

*time skip to present day*

Michelle writes a note to her adoptive parents reading,"goodbye, I'm off to school. -michelle".

Her handwriting wasn't the best ever, but it wasn't the worst either. Wobbly letters with a mix of cursive and print. She walked to school, and on the way she came across the girls who bullied her.

"Oh my god guys, look at her clothes, are those from the thrift store? Embarrassing!"

The first girl in the trio of the mean girls calls out, snickering at her.

"Look at her nasty shoes, they're so creased!"

The second girl says, sneering out and pointing to her shoes.

"And look at those earrings, are those fake diamond?"

The third girl laughs out, causing Michelle to look down, seemingly sad. The earrings Michelle always wore were a gift from her mother, she got them when she was 11.

Michelle let out an audible sigh before continuing to walk, ignoring the girls.

"aww, cats got your tounge? Thrift feet!"

The first girl makes a remark at Michelle, before the rest of the girls start laughing. They like to insult Michelle when they have nothing better to do.

*time skip to when they make it to school*

Michelle finally arrived at school, going straight to homeroom. She sits down, setting out her things for the day.

Being in 9th grade wasn't easy for Michelle, new people, hard topics, and boatloads of homework.

She looked up, and a few stars flew into her expression. The girl she liked, her name being Camille. She was strong, graceful, and beautiful. She was top of the class, kind to everyone, and she did ballet. She was rumored to be a model a few years back as well. Michelle's day dream was cut off by the sweet and slightly British voice of Camille calling out to Michelle,

saying, "good morning Michelle!" And waving gently to her. Michelle blushed slightly and waved back, smiling slightly.

As the days went on, Michelle occasionally got caught staring at Camille, and Camille would smile back gently.

Michelle and Camille had known each other for 7 years, and around the 5 year mark, Michelle fell for Camille. Little to Michelle's knowledge, Camille had fallen for her just as hard.

Anytime Camille thought of the quiet girl, she would blush a lot, and smile to herself.

At the end of the day, Camille decided to walk Michelle home. She approached and asked her the question.

"Hey Michelle, do you want to walk home with me?" Camille said in a sweet tone.

Michelle nodded her head back, smiling and blushing slightly. Camille took Michelle's hand in hers, gently lacing the pairs fingers together. Camilles hand was warm and soft, gently embracing Michelle's hand. Michelle blushed from the action, the blush reaching her ears as she smiled more. The bashful expression on Michelle's face was enough to make Camille blush too. Camilles blush dusted across her cheeks, and on her nose too.

Camille stood up, gently tugging on Michelles hand, motioning her to come with her.

As they were walking, the bullies walked up to Michelle, ignoring Camille. Camille held onto the other girls hand, seeming worried about what would happen.

"oh wow Michelle, I never knew you had a girlfriend! Are you paying her? Because no one would ever love you for no reason!" The first girl says, laughing, and the other girls laugh as well.

Michelle rolls her eyes, and it angers the other girls.

The first girl decided to punch Michelle in the chest, making her fall back to the ground, landing roughly on the pavement.

"will that teach you to stop being sassy toward us? Or do you need more punishment, you brat?" The second girl says, in a harsh tone. The other girls look down at Michelle, and Michelle rolls her eyes again, before readying herself to get back up.

This time the third girl pulls out something sharp, appearing to be a knife. She chucks the knife at Michelle, stabbing her straight through the gut.

Camilles face instantly darkens as she sees the knife go through her.

"MICHELLE!" she yells, falling to her knees to see if she's ok. Tears well in her eyes as she panics.

The mean girls laugh at the two of them.

"wow, you really are hopeless aren't you. Giving up that easily?" The second girl says, before bursting out laughing.

"w-what is wrong with you?! How could you do this to her?!" Camille yells, pain laced into her voice. Suddenly, a faint voice is heard from Michelle, saying, "c-camille.. I-i love you.. i-im sorry.. I-i hope I can meet you in another life.." she says in a hoarse voice.

"n-no! P-please Michelle! Don't leave me!" Camille yells out, sobbing at this point. She then does something she never thought she'd do, and she hugs Michelle tight, and kissed her gently on the lips.

Michelle feels her head going light, and she feels death approaching rapidly. Suddenly, she feels soft gentle lips on hers, kissing her lovingly. She barely opens her eyes, and sees Camille crying. She thinks to herself, 'dont cry.. a face as beautiful as yours shouldn't be crying..'

The kiss between the two girls is sweet and tender, raw emotion poured into it. As the girls pull away, a gentle smile graces Michelle's lips as scarlet blood seeps into her clothes. She soon takes her last breath, and passes on with a smile on her face.

Camille shakes Michelle, panicking slightly. "M-michelle? Michelle. Wake up, my love.. please.. I need you.. Michelle," Camille bows her head into Michelle's still chest, no life left in her body, "MICHELLE!!" Camille screams, sobbing into the dead girls chest, hugging her tight.

Soon enough, Camille leaves the girls body, walking home solemnly. She enters the house, her parents at work, and sets down her bag. She opens the bathroom door, and finds a bottle of pills. She takes one last glance in the mirror, tears streaming down her face, and she grabs a cup of water, swallowing the whole bottle of pills. Soon enough, Camille lays down, a searing pain in her chest, she closes her eyes as her breathing slows, and the last words she mumbles are, "I'm coming Michelle.."

~~~~~~~~~~

That's it! Thanks for reading! I honestly got carried away writing this, and feel free to let me know your opinion in the comments! Sayonaraaa!