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writtenbyred · 2 months

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Something Bad // A Matt Murdock x Reader fic // Slow burn

Note: Okay so I finally decided to post something I've had in my docs as a draft for forever, because why not. A slow burn matt murdock x reader romance with a whole lot of original storyline and plot building in this first chapter if you're willing to stick with it until you get the entrance of wonderful and rageful Matt.

Warnings: Reference to sexual violence/assault in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I have, since writing up lots for this story and planning it out and becoming attached to my character, seen other fics using an 'empath' OC, but I have become very attached to 'Ana' and I guess daredevil and all its angst lends itself well to an empath story so I'm sending this out into the ether anyways.

Go forth and read if you would like to <3 - Red

Chapter 1. Emotions.

Sat at a cold, metal table on a particularly uncomfortable chair, you looked intently at the person sitting opposite. There sat a young girl. In her file it said she was 21, but if you hadn’t seen that and had to hazard a guess, you’d have presumed her to be around 18. The way her eyes were cloudy with tears, her hands shaking slightly as she held them up to her chin, elbows lent on the cold metal, it all contributed to making her look younger - small, in that moment.

“It’s okay, Emma” You spoke, edging your hands forward on the table in a subconscious show of support. “You can take your time, we’re in no rush”

Emma looked upwards, then. You watched as a single tear slipped from her eye, only briefly tumbling down her cheek before Emma reached to wipe it with her sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” Emma stuttered a little over her words, her voice raspy from emotion. “I’m being silly, I just-”

As her words cut off mid sentence, you reached your hand forward quickly to place a comforting hand on Emma’s arm. The dark tumbling of vivid feelings - sadness, shame and fear, that you were already feeling inside your chest (or stomach, mind, just about everywhere? You weren’t 100% where the feelings of others ended up locating themselves within you) multiplied until she felt overwhelmed, having to shake her head with an exhale to push through them.

“Do not apologise. You are not being silly, and have nothing to feel sorry for. This is something incredibly difficult you’re doing, and I’m here to help you through it.” You grasped the girl's hand at that point, and in the way that you still did not fully understand, a wave of whatever calm you could find within yourself washed over you and towards Emma for a moment, and the girl let out a sigh as you watched some of that pain leave her. In that moment you felt good, happy that she could provide this sort of relief for somebody, even if only temporarily and not without an increase in your own anxieties.

“Thank you, I… I think I’m ready to talk now” And Emma’s words came at a perfect time, as a few moments later your head turned to the door, a soft knock floating through.

“You can come in” You called out to the officer you knew was standing on the other side, and then the door opened.

A police officer with a kind face stepped into the room, you had spoken with him earlier when you had first arrived - You were pretty sure he had said his name was Brett. He sent a small smile towards you both, and his empathy for the girl's situation shone through, even if you knew he would never be able to understand her emotions quite as well as you could.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to see how you were getting on” He walked towards the table and you realised then he was holding a mug in his hand, placing it down in front of the girl, he then gestured towards it. “It’s tea.” Emma reached her hand out to grasp it and looked to give him a smile in thanks.

“Sorry Miss Johnson, I didn’t think to get you anything-” You cut off the officer - still unsure if it was definitely Brett he had said, definitely something with a B - before he could finish.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” You shifted her attention back to Emma as she released the hand you had half forgotten she was still holding in order to bring the mug to her lips. She seemed more relaxed now, the awful panic of hopelessness and shame creeping in having dissipated slightly.

“So, do you think we’re ready to make a full statement, or?” He trailed off slightly, looking from Emma to you. You looked to the girl, letting the silence continue for as long as necessary, giving the girl the opportunity to make her own decision. You knew her ability to say yes or no had already been taken from her at least once that day, and you weren’t about to do it again.

“Yes, I’m ready to talk now” Emma seemed to sit up a little in her seat, lifting her head higher in her decision.

“Okay, great. I’ll be taking it from you, if that’s okay? We can try to find a female officer if you’ll be more comfortable.” Brett added, pulling the lone chair from the corner of the room to the table in order to sit in between them.

“No, that's fine. But, could Ana stay, please?” Emma’s eyes shifted to yours, and the subtle plea held within them was noticeable, even if you couldn’t feel the emotion rolling off of her.

“That’s okay with me, If Miss Johnson-”

“Of course” You spoke to the room, and then to Emma. “I’ll stay.”

And so you did.

You stayed and listened as Emma spoke of what happened early that morning, when she had been finishing a night shift at around 5am. What had happened when the sky was still dark and Hell’s Kitchen still shrouded in shadows as she made the short walk through back streets towards a bus route. As she had been grabbed, attacked by rough hands who pulled her into an alleyway. You felt fear, panic rising in bubbles from her stomach, to her chest, to her throat. And so you leant forward, taking the girl’s shaking hand in yours when she’d faltered over her retelling, stopping to catch her breath through tears, the emotions intensifying as she worked to calm them. A subtle nudge from your mind, some quiet ringing in your own ears, and you saw as Emma’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly, her rapid breaths slowing and stabilising, allowing her to continue on. You offered her a weak smile in encouragement.

There were many times in your life where you had hated the fact that you were capable of this. When things had become overwhelming when you were younger, when emotions would feel like they were strangling you in some situations.

You hated hospitals, always. The fear, the pain, the hopelessness from so many had twisted painful knots into your stomach, caused your chest to tighten and your eyes to burn, when your Mum was sick, you had avoided the hospital as much as possible, often unable to visit her. your own home, after your mum had died, now that was simply unbearable.

But in rare moments like this, You were grateful for your ability to take some of the girl’s pain away, even if you had to feel it in turn.

Once the difficult conversation was done, Officer Brett Mahoney (you had read his name tag) had stopped the recording and explained to Emma what would happen next. Through this, though, and whilst they left the room and left Emma waiting for whoever she had contacted to come, You’s world was blurred. your body was exhausted, and a deep ache had built within you as you still felt all the painful emotions, now overwhelming your mind after such time. you had to stabilise yourself against the wall in the hallway for a moment whilst Officer Mahoney had gone to talk to an officer, closing your eyes to wait for the momentary dizziness to pass.

Hearing your name made you open your eyes, stand up straighter to face Officer Mahoney.

“Miss. Johnson, thank you for coming down.” His face was serious but the warmth shone through his eyes, as well as his feelings of appreciation, which washed over You like a hot shower, a momentary recess from the dark and cutting emotions you still had swirling within your. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it, but you really managed to calm her down. She was a mess before, understandably. I don’t know if we would have gotten that statement until morning otherwise. Gives us a much better chance of finding the guy”.

“It’s no bother, I’m happy to do it” You sent a smile at him, your head slowly returning to functioning more capably. And as much as it did take a lot out of you, dealing with the overwhelming emotions of these difficult situations and the police station in general, you really were happy to do it.

“We’re getting a lot of similar cases at the minute” He shook his head at that and a grimace came on You’s face. you knew that, you’d had to do this for far more people lately. “It would be useful to have you there in future.”

A wave of nausea passed over you as another rush of panic and grief washed over you. You stole a glance back to the room you’d just been in, only a few feet away, and you realised you needed to get as far away from it as possible. So you reached your hand into the pocket of your jacket and quickly picked up your card, handing it to Brett with a forced smile.

“Call me here if you ever need someone again” You spoke before lifting your bag on your shoulder and turning to head towards the door, as quickly as you could without causing alarm. On the way out you felt a mixture of anger, grief, happiness, and then some more fear thrown in for good measure, all flowing out of the people sitting in the station.

Once you reached the large entrance doors, finally pushing outside into the cool air, you breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Your hands anxiously patted at your thighs, leaning your whole upper body forward as you shut your eyes, willing your brain to just calm. The emotions within you started to simmer down, as the outside air filled your lungs, it seemed as you exhaled a lot of the pain went with it, and you welcomed that calmer feeling, though some of the dizziness remained.

You hadn’t always been able to do this. As a kid you could remember people praising your empathy, a kind warm child who always wanted to make people feel better, so you supposed maybe it had always lived inside of you. Not that you really understood what ‘it’ was, but it was as you got a little older that it really started. As you started hitting teenage years, it was… overwhelming.

As other kids started being aware of themselves; feeling emotions more deeply, feeling embarrassment, starting to explore romantic interests - You felt it all, except not only for yourself. You supposed one of the first times you realised what was happening to you wasn’t normal was in 8th grade. A girl had come into class after a couple days away, her eyes looked a little lifeless, dark circles and redness that indicated she had been crying, but none of the other 13 year olds seemed to notice this, but You did, because as she walked into the room a pit opened at the bottom of your stomach, seemingly making room for the dark horrific feeling of a sad pain mixed with guilt, fear, hopelessness and anger to enter, taking You’s breath away. As it turned out, the girl had lost her father. That was the first time you had known what grief felt like, and it certainly wasn’t the last.

You checked your phone for the time, seeing it was 5:45pm, you’d spent far more time in the police station than you had expected to, and it was time for you to call it a day. You mostly worked alone, the card you handed over simply stating your name, and a description of Emotional counselling/Advocate/Representative to try and encompass the range of things you did for people. In reality this was everything from working with somebody to calm their nerves before giving a large presentation to, what you did far more often, coaching people who were scared and traumatised giving statements and later testifying in court. You were also part of a company who provided advocates to those who were vulnerable in any legal proceedings or meetings with law enforcement, but often once you had worked with somebody, you handed them your personal card, as agencies tended to pay jack shit.

You had desperately wanted to find any way you could put this curse some would call a gift to use, to try and help people if you could. You had too much experience of not being able to help people, especially the ones you loved, which was still eagerly eating away at you.

Near the station was a coffee shop you’d been to a few times before or after similar trips, and as much as caffeine may not help the banging headache that you had building, in that moment you really didn’t care.

On your short walk to the shop, the fluttering of different feelings inside you that you’d grown used to continued. Somebody on the phone was clearly in love, a warmth spreading through you as you pushed past the woman smiling at whoever she was talking to. Another was stressed, walking with purpose and tension in his shoulders which had passed through to you for a moment. You shook your head, willing yourself to try to tune it out for the moment.

You reached the shop, and headed to join the queue of people also craving their caffeine fix.

You browsed the menu as you took shuffling steps as the line kept moving up, your eyes falling on a sweet caramel filled coffee, your heart tugging towards it. When you stepped up to the counter, however, you ordered a large black coffee. You had a guilty pleasure of sickly sweet coffee, however your life wasn’t so much about what you wanted anymore.

You took a large gulp of the bitter and hot liquid that scalded your throat slightly, but it was better than feeling the remnants of the acidic feeling of panic you’d felt there all afternoon.

Back at your one bedroomed, simple apartment You had chucked your coffee cup into the bin, your body now slightly electrified by the caffeine content, of which you were glad. You expected the night ahead of you may be a long one, and the more awake you were for it, the better.

Grabbing your laptop, you placed it on your rectangular coffee table, taking a seat on the somewhat battered hard leather couch. You then pulled the laptop onto your lap, pressing the power on button.

Once the light finally flickered on and the screen illuminated, you opened up a document you had, very cleverly you thought, entitled Mom’s recipes. Scrolling past the few simple recipes you’d stolen from the Food Network, you came to the page on which you were keeping the information you had gathered. You bit your lower lip as your eyes darted back and forth to scan the things you had previously written.

There was only just under a page of short sentences, but it was a better position than you had been in 6 months ago, so you would take it.

“Daniel - Previous chef at Le Frère Juste restaurant had been known to have fallen into the criminal network of Hell’s Kitchen, believed to be due to a substance abuse problem Mr.-”

You stopped reading that particular sentence, which was a quote from a police report you had obtained a couple months back through means that some would possibly frown upon, including the police that it came from, which meant that perhaps it wasn’t entirely legal. What you had been more interested in was the name attached to said report. One Officer Jenkins, who you had spent time trying to track down for more information, but was so far unsuccessful.

You weren't empty handed, however.

At the beginning was the hardest, not knowing where to look for information,how to recognise the snippets of clues that could lead to more. But once you had finally gotten one name, you’d tumbled into another, then another. you should’ve been more shocked to discover the dark, tangled web of criminal factions that underpinned Hell’s Kitchen, but having lived here since you were 6 years old, you’d already seen (and felt) much of the darkness that shrouded Hell’s Kitchen.

The names you had gathered were few, but you were hopeful one of them could provide you with information you needed. So far you had only approached one of the men on your list, who had been unable to give you any information about Daniel or what he was involved with before he had died. You had half expected that however, having picked what you presumed to be the weakest first, to test whether you would be capable of approaching them, if you could use your ability in the right way to cause them to fear you enough to hand over information. Information you may not have gotten, but the sight of the guy running away at full speed once you’d lightened your effect on him certainly improved your confidence in the matter.

You had attended some form of fighting sport since you were a teen on and off, completing a couple years of boxing, some karate, kickboxing also. You’d figured out that punching, kicking, generally throwing yourself at things in some way was a great method for releasing some of the intense emotions pent up inside you that spilled out from everyone else into you. However, you were not technically a fighter of any kind, so 6 months ago when you’d decided this was something you would have to do, for Daniel, you’d started taking self defence lessons, and then deciding you wanted something a little more on the offensive, you’d started one-on-one kickboxing. Of course, you hoped to be successful enough at using your ability against people, but you weren't stupid, and knew you were getting yourself into something dangerous, and thought it best not to rely on simply scaring gang members into not killing you.

Even with trembling hands, you thought, surely a gun shot would eventually be on target.

Tonight, however, you were hoping for a more successful night. you eyed the second name on your list, and the information you had gained on where this Alex Peters would be this evening by doing some, as some may say, light stalking of Alex a couple of nights earlier this week. you’d known his favourite bar hangout, and after frequenting there many times, you finally got lucky and spotted him at the start of the week, and now you knew he was going to be meeting with some others tonight in Hell’s Kitchen.

Planning on getting him alone, and asking him what he knew about Daniel, you slipped into your darker, more athletic clothing hoping to blend into the shadows. Once you had what you needed, including a small pen knife and mace on your keys, the only physical offensive weapons you had, the last thing you did before you left was pull up your dark hood over your head.

The air in Hell’s Kitchen was cool as an inky darkness had fallen over the sky, illuminated only by the light pollution spilling out of New York City. You sat crouched on a fire escape, one you’d had to wrestle with a pull-down ladder in order to get up on to. It provided you the perfect vantage point to watch what was happening below. You held a small digital camera in your hand, nothing special since you weren't exactly rolling in cash, however it took better quality pictures than your phone did. you weren't exactly sure why you were collecting photos of the criminal rings you had been tipped off to, or what you may use them for, but it made you feel like you were doing something.

Down below, you were watching 5 men interact. One of these was the guy who’s name you’d been given, with a possible connection to Daniel: That was Alex Peters, a relatively short man with a shaved head and tattoos littering his large, muscular arms and seeping on to his neck. Typically exactly what you’d expect from some sort of intimidating muscle man for a gang. Great, You thought, you weren't exactly looking forward to trying to get information from him.

The others seemed to be a mix of associates of Alex and another group. They were discussing something in tones too hushed for you to be able to make out what they were saying, but considering the fact they were a bunch of criminals attached to everything from drugs to murder, you’d hazard a guess that it wasn’t anything good.

They stood within a half decrepit building, either a warehouse or an old multstorey car park of which only metal bones remained, You weren't sure, but either way the damage, which was presumably a result of The Incident, made for a great hotspot for criminal activities, but also thankfully allowed you a great view from your vantage point.

Alex started to split from the rest of the pack, and your attention peaked, quickly placing away your camera into the small over shoulder bag you had, standing yourself up, a little, in preparation.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shouting back to the others whilst he walked in the opposite direction to where they were headed towards a car trunk.

He shouted something incomprehensible, and you started to move. your footsteps light and you shimmied yourself back down the ladder you’d used to climb up in the first place. you could hear your own heart beating loudly in your ears, your chest thudding as you tried to control your breath before approaching this man. For somebody with the ability to manipulate somebody else’s emotions, you sure could struggle with your own sometimes.

You pulled your hood over your head even further, more as a comfort action than anything else. Alex had rounded the corner of a half broken down wall, You watching the light from his cigarette as you circled round in the shadows, crouching hidden behind a large metal waste bin as you ran over and over in your head what was about to happen. You would approach as quickly as possible, the minute he turned the opposite direction and then… Well you hoped that some muscle memory from your far too few kickboxing lessons and the somewhat unpredictable emotional manipulation powers would come into clutch in the moment.

In the distance, there was the loud sound of the other men, clattering of metal as they looked through their trunk and laughed together, but you couldn’t hear that. The world around had slipped away, a dull pressure building in your ears that made everything around your seem slightly slower, it built further as Alex Peters pulled his old phone from his pocket, his attention now turned away from your direction, and the fullness in your ears seemed to suddenly pop, and then everything was moving fast again; too fast.

In a swift movement, you stood to your feet, and gliding steps took you suddenly right to where Alex stood. He started to turn towards you, a breath of an almost word leaving his mouth as he instinctively raised his arm to push you away, but you stepped back, and threw your knee up quickly, your full body weight behind you as you jutted it into his stomach, winding him.

“What the F-” Alex’s breathless words came out quickly, but you couldn’t have him alerting the other men to your presence, because then you’d seriously be screwed, so you quickly reached your hand out to his shoulder, and let an intense jolt of fear out of yourself.

The man before you went rigid, confusion seeming to pass his face before a look of terror enveloped it. You had felt scared more than enough times in your life, and still carried enough of that around to pull it from yourself and throw it into him. So that’s what you did.

A continuous pressure of terror sent between two minds, and soon it was easy enough for you to grip him harder, bringing your other hand to his opposite shoulder, shoving him back against the brick wall.

“Alex Peters.” your voice came out more gruff than you’d ever normally hear yourself sound. It was laced with anger, and presumably adrenaline, but you had to keep it quiet. His stuck wide eyes darted back and forth between yours and the vice-like grip of your hands. He seemed to try to speak, but was unable to, so you continued. “I’m going to give you a name. And you are going to tell me what you know.”

He just looked at you, so you moved your hand to his throat, reaching deeper within yourself to channel more intense feelings into him. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead he gave a quick nod, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Daniel, Daniel Johnson. Do you kno-” you couldn’t finish your sentence as your adrenaline fueled trance was suddenly broken by the clashing sound you heard from just past the wall. you whipped your head towards the sound. Your concentration was broken, your mind losing its grip on the channelling emotions for just a moment. But it was long enough for Alex Peters to regain some of his composure, clearly finding his voice enough to shout out, and push you backwards, causing you to stumble over your own legs.

Your eyes were back on him just in time to see his still shaking fist coming towards you, ringing in your ears a moment later as you were too late to fully avoid his hand connecting with the side of your temple. you doubled over for a moment, and suddenly the nerve endings in the front of your face exploded in pain, his knee having connected directly with your nose. you leant back against the metal you originally hid behind, the coolness aiding the heat burning through you. You mustered up the adrenaline to lift yourself up, going after him.

However, as your fingers were just grasping his jacket to pull him backwards, your eyes focused ahead and saw that the other men were now approaching. your fuzzy mind had only enough time to pull into focus one word; Shit.

All of a sudden, with the distant sound of a soft thud, there was another figure standing before you. In the dim light, it seemed like just a shadow of a man. But all of a sudden, one of the men was on the floor, and the others were now focused on a new target.

The new development didn’t keep your attention long though, with the others now running to throw punches at the shadow figure, you could turn back to Alex and throw your arms at him again.

You grabbed his forearm, and let your mind kick into action in a way that was becoming more practised, more perfected. you threw your body weight at him, stumbling you both back against the brick wall, Alex’s back thudding roughly against it at which he let out a small cry.

“Daniel Johnson, tell me.” Your voice was rushed, desperation sneaking through into your tone, your need for answers burning at your already gravelly throat. His eyes however were focused to his right, where over his shoulder, the other men he’d been with were either choosing to run or being beaten to the ground. His fabricated terror seemingly having found a new perpetrator in the shadow man. And he fought back against you, clearly desperate to join his fellow cowards in escape. You were pushed backwards once again, your smaller frame at your disadvantage, and for a moment your breath caught in your throat, the flash of dark metal catching your eye, the gun in Alex’s hand being lifted up towards you, but almost instantly, Alex disappeared from before you.

You could feel your shaky breaths coming back, faster than usual, the quickened beats of your heart in your ears at full volume again. The gun was gone from Alex’s hand when you looked back to him, and instead he was being hit swiftly around the head with it, knocking him sideways. you watched as the shadow of a man grabbed Alex by the neck, his other hand clasped into a fist, quickly connecting with the side of Alex’s temple. Once. Twice. A third hit, and Alex’s eyes had fallen closed, his body grew limp, and it fell to the floor as the man released his hold on his neck.

For a moment you just stood there, watching the back of the man clad all in black, your quick and shallow breaths seemingly mirroring his as his tight shoulders heaved up and down in steady rhythm. For a moment, he just stood there also. Still, unmoving.

Slowly, he turned around to face you. You weren’t sure how you were meant to feel, having seen this man just take out 5 or more men in the space of a couple minutes, standing alone in an alleyway with him, but the large amount of adrenaline was clearly still coursing through your veins because you didn’t take much notice to how you should feel.

What you did feel in that moment, though, was a deep seated rage. you hadn’t the functioning brain power in that moment to ponder whether that emotion was bubbling up inside of you or flooding out of the man before you.

You watched him as he seemed to consider you for a moment, his head twitched to the side, and you tried to study him also, but the majority of his face was covered by black cloth. You took a momentary glance over his all black attire, the thin material splayed across his thick torso severely lacking in protection. Before he had the chance to say anything, the thick and red hot rage was clawing at her throat to be verbalised.

“What the hell.” Your voice was gravelly, pitched low as you stood in some sort of standoff with this shadow of a man. You couldn’t see his facial expression, only the slight tick in his jaw as he slowly cocked his head in the other direction.

“Excuse me?” His voice was deep. It was rough and came from deep in his chest, which was still rising and falling in rapid respiration. You simply narrowed your eyes at him, reasonable thought and any sense of self preservation clearly out of the window with the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“I said, what the hell, man” You lifted a hand to your hair, roughly pushing away the wisps of it that had fallen in front of your face. “I was just about to- well, whatever, but you jump in here and ruin it.” Your voice was somewhat hectic.

With Alex Peters having run off, your chance of getting some more information about Daniel had gone with him, and at that moment, all of your negative feelings about that outcome were being filtered and thrown straight at the man before you. It seemed those feelings were mostly anger.

His lips seemed to press into an even more grim line, as he shook his head in a movement ever so slight, it may have been a subconscious reflex in his disagreement.

“If I hadn’t jumped in when I did then you’d most likely be dead right now.” He stated matter of factly, causing you to scoff.

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you.” Your hands rested upon your hips, trying to hide the way they still shook slightly from the man before you, an attempt to exude confidence, despite the way your heart rate was still racing.

“I’m not sure I would call having a gun pointed to your head, handling yourself, exactly.” Although his lips remained in a line, his voice still grim, it gained the slightest lilt of teasing to it, and flames of annoyance built up in your chest, escaping in the way of a groan of exasperation.

“I would have been perfectly fine, without you showing up and chasing away my- That guy.” Words flew from your mouth a little quicker than you could filter them, realising you probably shouldn’t be telling details of your plans to the stranger in front of you.

“Sure you would.” His voice and the feelings that flew off of him held no ounce of truth. “You need to be more careful, what are you doing out here trying to talk to these guys?” His head cocked to the side once against, an almost questioning taunt to his positioning.

His near chastising tone brought a laugh from your lips.

“What’s it to you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a small step back from him, looking him up and down from clothed face down to a tough black boot, and it clicked for you where you'd seen this shadow man before. You drew in a sharp breath.

The Man in Black.

You’d seen the papers as you walked past the stands, you’d seen the news and heard local radio all talking about this Man in Black. A vigilante sort, who seemed to be travelling around Hell’s Kitchen and regularly beating the shit out of people.

“Well, I’m just trying to-” He started again, less gravel to his voice now he seemed to have calmed a bit, but you cut him off before he could impart his opinion on to you.

“Stop it. I know who you are” He stilled for a moment, taking you in as you purposely rolled your shoulders back, standing a little taller before him, still feeling those sparks of rage flickering. “The Man in Black” You added emphasis to his given title with the lilt of sarcasm in your voice clear.

“I don’t need to take advice from some vigilante, going around and spreading violence. You have no idea what I’m doing, who I am,” For some reason you hadn’t quite realised, a lot of vitriol was building into your voice as you addressed the man in black. Thinking of the many people you’d heard of him having fought. The people he’d hurt. How was he to know if the people he fought deserved it? What if it was somebody just caught up with the wrong people. Someone like Daniel. “You’ve screwed things up for me here tonight, I have a banging headache from being punched, and also knee-d actually, in the face, and now no information, so thank you very much, Man in Black, but I think this is where I’ll be bidding you goodnight.

His lips parted slightly, which was just visible to you under the dim glow of distant street lights down the alley. It looked like he was about to speak, but before he could you heaved your bag further up your shoulder, a wince as you jolted your head with your movement, and spun on your heel.

“You’re hurt…” His gruff voice trailed off, but you simply waved a hand in his direction, exhaustion suddenly pulling at your mind, and knowing vehemently that you did not need saving by some guy in a black mask.

You continued to retrace your steps towards the ladder that led you back to your vantage point and a way home, empty handed. However, the deep voice stopped you again whilst you were only a few metres away.

“Wait.” You tilted your head slightly back in his direction. “The name you said, Daniel Johnson was it-”

Anger shot through your veins, your voice coming out as more of a growl. “Don’t say that name” You simply said, watching as the man in black stood still, his lips still parted in question. But you simply turned and walked away, having had enough of the night.

Your legs dragged heavy beneath you, feeling like logs as you battled each step. Now the adrenaline was wearing off, every step felt more difficult, and exhaustion was truly trying to pull you under the whole way back to your flat.

As you walked down dark back alleys and hidden streets, you tried not to think about the fact that you’d had a gun pulled on you this evening, the cool metal of it still a phantom feeling against the skin of your head. Tried not to think about the fact that you could have died, and that for all of that, you still had no new information, thanks to the Man in Black.

A couple of blocks from the location of your night's altercation, you paused, a heavy stone in your chest as you lent your head back against the cold and rough brick of an alley wall. A couple of shaky breaths escaped you, and much to your dismay, now that you were alone, surrounded by nobody’s emotions but your own, a tear slid from between your lashes down and over your cheekbone. You shook your head, and pushed off the wall with a kick of your feet, desperate to get yourself home.

You pulled your jacket closer around your body, your hood still tight over your head, and walked quickly through the darkened and unsafe streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night, in the direction of your apartment. You kept your head down, trying your best to avoid any trouble. You didn’t think you had it in you for another fight of any kind this evening.

You weren’t aware, however, that were you to encounter one, the man in black would be right there with you.

#matt murdock #fan fiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fanfic #here goes nothing #sending this out into the ether

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csuitebitches · 1 year

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Book Review/ Notes from: The Psychology of Successful Women

I found the book pretty generic but I liked the fact that she added guiding questions to her strategies, which made it more doable. Here are the notes:

1. Define what success means to you. Ensure that it is healthy and holistic.

2. Note down your goals. “What do i want to be/do/have in my career?”

“A study on goal setting at the Dominican University in California showed you are 42% more likely to achieve your goals if you write them down. Written goals are proven to increase your focus, strengthen motivation and help you come up with a plan of attack to make your dreams a reality.”

3. We need a combination of the right mindset + behaviour in order to actually succeed.

4. Confidence isnt relative to being an extrovert or introvert. Confidence is about having trust in oneself.

A) developing a positive internal dialogue instead of a negative, critical one

B) focus on strengths rather than weaknesses. “.. revealed that people who used their strengths every day were three times more likely to report having an excellent quality of life, six times more likely to be engaged at work, 8% more productive and 15% less likely to quit their jobs.”

C) stop comparison - whether it means logging off social media or unfollowing/restricting certain people.

D) click with people with the same values as you.

E) believe in yourself. It’s not your job to prove yourself to everyone.

5. Developing a personal brand is important. A personal brand is how people see you and what you’re known for. Its important to consider how you present yourself online and offline.

• Your personal (people person/ adaptable/ flexible, etc) and professional strengths (what you really enjoy doing)

• What makes you unique

• Your achievements and qualifications

• Your life experiences

• Your values and the things that are important to you

• Your passions

• Your image

• Your mindset and attitude

• Your behaviour

Ask people around you how they see you - speak to people you deeply trust.

Reflect on that.

How would you like them to see you?

6. Imposter syndrome is often described as a pervasive feeling of self-doubt, inadequacy and incompetence, despite evidence of success.

A. Identity triggers and thought patterns to that lead you to feeling like a fake.

B. Acknowledge your past success and accomplishments. Write a list of some of your achievements and successes. Reflect on some of the great feedback you have received from a client or colleague in the past few months.

7. Boundary setting is a necessary evil. You will feel guilty at first, but it gets easier with time. You dont have to give out excessive excuses, either.

8. Fear of failure: What have you been putting off learning, doing or experiencing personally or professionally, because of fear of failure, or a fear of not being ready? • What can you do this week or month to stretch your comfort zone? • What would you do right now if you knew you absolutely couldn’t fail?

9. “Women tend to apologise a lot more than men in general, even when we have nothing to apologise for – almost out of habit. Do you say sorry a lot? Now this does not mean that we should never apologise, or that we can’t say sorry – of course we can. Just be mindful of over-apologising.”

Phrases to stop saying:

- I’m sorry that our director is unable to come today, you’ll have to put up with me instead…

- Apologies if I’m nervous today, I don’t often speak in public…

- I hope you dont mind but…

- I’m no expert on this but…

10. Stop diminishing yourself. “When we undervalue our role or contribution, we often reflect this in our language, and talk like what we do is not that important. Furthermore, when we don’t genuinely value ourselves, we may start to convince others of the same. People will often mirror back to us how we feel or speak about ourselves.”

11. “People with high levels of resilience think and act in ways that help them cope with change and setbacks. For example, they are flexible and can adapt to changing situations. They also tend to be positive and hopeful – believing the future can or will be better – even if they are in the middle of a challenge. Highly resilient people also don’t tend to dwell on setbacks and things they can’t change.”

Strategies:

1. Dont be afraid to ask for help. “People who are good at reaching out to others, talking about their challenges or setbacks, asking for help and then accepting that help, tend to cope better.”

2. Control what you can control. Do not focus on things you can’t control or change.

#c suite #powerful woman #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #productivity #strong women #getting your life together #feminine energy #balance #book review #successful women #success #psychology

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 10 months

Note

🪷:

Hi , I hope you enjoy your vacation!

I just wanted to share this with you or else i might forget.

Tw : potential(?) angst

What are your thoughts/ How do you envision the argument of asra and mc that resulted in their seperation and so on till the prologue.

This is the only point in asra's route that I just can't make scenarios of

I apologise for my broken English. I hope you have a great vacation 🤍 your blog is literally my safe space and I hope that you find peace in this community too <3

Brainrot's Arcana Essays: Pre-Prologue Asra and MC

Hiya lotus(?) flower anon!

Thank you so much, vacation has been wonderful so far ^.^ and I can't tell you how happy I am to know that this blog feels safe to you. Fandom has been my safe space for years now and I'm so privileged to pass that on :)

To get into answering your question, here's my essay:

The writers made MC as vague as possible for a reason - so that as many readers as possible could fill their shoes. This means that when it comes to the past, having an MC without any memories allows the reader to learn new things at the same time as MC, which contributes to the story feeling so immersive. Unfortunately, it also means that all we know about the past is hints and comments and side conversations that we're left to connect the dots with.

I remember being surprised by this too, but in their route during the paid "slow dance" scene (Wheel of Fortune, Rise and Fall), MC has the opportunity to ask Asra "Is this how we were before?" in reference to their growing relationship. And Asra says no.

The way he tells it, they met when he was a teen selling masks and trinkets that he and Muriel had made on the streets in Vesuvia. He says it was about nine years prior to the time of his route (which using fan estimates of his age would put him at 17). He was interested in MC right away, first as a passing fancy, then as serious crush, and then eventually falling completely in love. He even describes making more and more stock in hopes that MC would have so many options to choose from that they'd stay longer and he'd have more time to talk to them.

It's mentioned in an ask arcana post that after Asra and MC became friends, it wasn't uncommon for him to crash on MC's sofa (especially between trips). It's also mentioned in the prologue that Asra started out in a little fortune telling booth in the Marketplace before using the back room of the shop. It looks like, over the course of the five(ish) years between Asra and MC's meeting and MC's death of the plague, they went from acquaintances to friends to frequently sharing the same work/living space and having a strong partnership.

So how far did their relationship progress? When Asra tells MC that they were "like this" before, the two of them aren't even committed yet. MC still doesn't know what happened in their past, neither of them have said "I love you", and there hasn't been much talk of the future yet. It suggests to me that they were close friends, with a hint of something more on Asra's end, but that the "something more" never got the chance to develop.

That lines up with what Asra says about the way their own feelings developed towards MC. They were scared of how strong they were and their response was to leave, hoping that the distance would shake their attachment. But it didn't, which resulted in Asra running from their feelings and passing up the chance to have a romantic relationship with MC in the first place.

Which is why, when the plague came, Asra wouldn't have had any ground to stand on when he asked MC to come with him. They were close friends, they were business partners, but they weren't lovers. Furthermore, Asra had established a personal habit of disappearing fairly often in order to prevent them from getting too close, so even if MC had hoped to explore that kind of relationship with him they wouldn't have gotten the chance. The only influence Asra had when he asked MC to leave Vesuvia with him was as a concerned friend.

It's unlikely that there was a big, loud argument or messy breakup, because MC and Asra wouldn't have had a relationship that warranted it. The point of their disagreement isn't that they hurt each other, it's that they went their separate ways and that MC ended up dying afterwards. Asra takes so much blame on himself, not because he betrayed MC in any way, but because he hadn't committed to them enough to 1) reasonably expect them to leave Vesuvia with him, or 2) reasonably expect himself to stay behind and help. He blames himself for being too afraid of his own feelings to ask for the relationship he truly wanted and have the precedent to get involved in MC's life when everything fell apart.

Which brings us to Asra's and MC's dynamic for the three years between their resurrection and the prologue: it's not ideal, but it's a lot healthier than expected.

Asra did not have any claim on MC's heart when they died (which he sees as one of the reasons why MC was left to die in the first place) and he doesn't try to establish a claim after bringing them back. He doesn't bring MC back as an isolated, obsessive lover who couldn't handle a bad breakup. He sees MC's death as his biggest mistake, and then he works with other people and Arcana figures to bring them back. There was a collective agreement that MC deserved a second chance at life, Asra simply took initiative in bringing that to fruition and then took the responsibility on himself to care for MC as a close friend upon their return. It's a beautiful character development arc for him - the person who was too scared of his feelings being requited to commit, becomes the person committed to the one they love while expecting nothing in return.

There's three reasons why their dynamic afterwards is so isolated: first, all the other people involved in bringing MC back are missing their memories of it, unconscious, or out of town. Second, Asra is a naturally isolated person themself, constantly forgetting that there are people out there who exist and care about them and want to help. Making and holding onto relationships is a big personal blind spot for them.

Third (and most importantly), MC is in no position to make friends, because nobody in their neighborhood will speak to them. It wouldn't be unreasonable to expect that after three years of running a shop, somebody would have made friends without any outside help. MC doesn't have that option because people are too freaked out at seeing them alive, and Asra isn't going to take them anywhere else because this is the lifestyle that gives MC the most financial, emotional, and physical independence.

This is the backdrop of the events of the prologue: Nadia wakes up and Julian comes back to town, and they're quick to reconnect with MC. Asra remains friendly and supportive, but ultimately emotionally distant. The turning point for him is at the end of the prologue, when MC has the chance to ask him, explicitly, what they mean to him. It's only once MC has other connections again, is living independently, is clearly recovered enough to decide their own future, and invites Asra to express their feelings that MC starts to realize that his interest goes beyond friendship.

There's my little speculative timeline, friend, I hope it made sense and you liked it!

Cheers -

brainrot

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #asra the arcana #asra alnazar #the arcana apprentice #the arcana mc #the arcana hc #the arcana headcanons #the arcana game

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whxtedreams · 4 months

Text

Chapter 5 - Beanies and Hunting… Cults?

Summary

Present: Joel helps you move back home

Past: The begining of the end.

CW // Joel makes a pun (and it's a bad one) - (i still laughed writing it), descriptions of scars, talk about murder, violence, blood and murder (it's tlou, what do you expect)

WC // 6,136

Now

Late Spring 2024

A whole month had passed before Tommy even considered letting you go back to your own house. As much as you adore the married couple, you desperately needed your own space again. When you could prove to them that you could indeed care for yourself, they reluctantly agreed for you to move back into your own house.

It has also been a month since your argument with Tommy, and a month since you agreed to take the medication he returned with when needed. You had apologised profusely the second he returned, pulling him into a hug and muttering every apology under the sun that you could think of. Luckily, Tommy has been forgiving in this regard, understanding the stress and circumstances that contributed to your somewhat violent outburst.

Over the past month while you recovered from your injury, Joel had been strangely around more often than not. Whether it was for only a few moments or for hours at a time, if he brought Ellie with him or ventured over solo, he always found some reason to be at his brother's house. You had gotten used to seeing him by now and his presence no longer brought with it the sense of anxiety that it had when you first met him. Just like his brother had done all those years ago, Joel was slowly clawing his way into your life.

It was on one of his regular visits late last night, after a patrol that his very presence managed to capture your dying heart. Both Tommy and Maria had fallen asleep hours ago while you remained outside on the porch, reading one of Annabel's old books. Your mind had been completely lost within the world of the book, unaware of Joel taking a seat next to you on the porch, in the same exact spot where the two of you had been all those weeks ago.

"Whatcha reading?" Joel nudges your shoulder, causing you to jump and let out an audible gasp, dropping the book and grabbing at the hand that touched you. Your eyes dart between his eyes as your heart races, and he quietly chuckles at your reaction. "Must be good if you didn’t hear me," he teases you in response.

You let go of his hand and sigh. "Shit Joel, you made me lose my spot," you mutter as you notice the book had closed as it fell to the steps below you. You lean over to carefully pick up the book, brushing the dirt off the cover with care before pausing with a frown at seeing the now messed up spine. Annabel would have given you hell for damaging her precious books.

Over the past few months since the loss of your niece, you decided to read the books she cherished. You were never one to read before, never having the time to properly devote to the hobby. But you wanted to be close to her without her here, to visit the worlds she loved. You found pieces of her between the lines, where she had annotated her favourite parts. You found yourself laughing where she had once laughed, mirrored by adding tears to the pages her tears had previously stained. Even though she was gone, you were still finding parts of her you never knew. And part of that kept her alive.

Joel reaches out his hand and you hesitate, raising an eyebrow at him in silent question. He takes the book and flips it over to read the back cover, looking interested as his eyes scan the words. You stare at him, your eyes drifting up to his head and noticing something that fills you with shock. He's wearing the beanie that you gave him twenty years ago. There are a few patches and stitches in place, but it's still the same one. You feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach at the realisation that Joel still has this beanie all these years later.

"The Neverending Story," Joel flips the book and nods at the cover before he offers up a slight smirk. "But there's an ending, so it's not never ending," he jokes to himself.

As you reach up and touch the beanie, he flinches at the contact. He watches as you trace a long line of stitching on the side closest to you, his mouth slightly parting as he studies you. His eyes dart to your hand again before landing on your face.

"You kept it." You whisper, and your hand drops back to your side. It's impossible not to feel your emotions stir as you take in the sight of Joel's beanie. You see the obvious signs of wear and fraying as you notice how his beanie has visibly torn over the years, even the patches and stitching that still hold it together. Knowing that he has taken the time to mend it and keep it for all these years, you find yourself emotional. You're not exactly sure why it means so much to you, but it does.

Joel's own hand reaches up and touches his beanie, like he had forgotten that he was still wearing it. "Course I did. It's a good beanie," he says with a nod as he offers the book back to you. When you take the book back from him, your fingers brush his momentarily. His fingers gently brush over the old burn scar on your hand and before he can question the scar, you reluctantly pull your fingers away first, taking the book and placing it in your lap.

Joel sighs before taking the beanie off his head, his hair messy and sticking up from being flattened by the wool. He holds it in his hands and his thumb traces the same stitch you ran your fingers over. “This was the first decent thing someone did for me after the outbreak. And was the only decent thing someone did for me for a long time after. Besides Tommy Of course. But yeah, course I kept it.” He admits, a small frown settling between his eyebrows and your heart clenches at the thought you did that for him.

You look away from him, a slight flush appearing on your cheeks as you find yourself seated only a breath away from him. His presence feels oddly comforting yet intimidating at the same time, and your mind quickly runs through possible conversations you could start to fill the silence and break the tension between the two of you.

"I'm moving back home tomorrow." You offer, tracing your fingers over the title of the book, its white text having yellowed over time. Joel shifts beside you and nods in response, clasping his hands over his knees as he glances over the backyard. As you both look out towards the horizon, your silence is interrupted only by the occasional bird chirping or nearby rustling of leaves. You feel the comfort of his presence despite the tension that still lingers between the two of you.

Just as you begin to think that he won't respond, he finally speaks up. "Need help moving anything over?" he asks, shifting his gaze back towards you.

You contemplate Joel's question, giving him a small tilt of your head away from him. Not much is left to transport back to your house a few streets down, just two boxes. Your house was further away than most of the community, as you and Annabel felt smothered by the amount of people when you first arrived. Maria had found you a two bedroom house on the border of the town, far enough away for privacy but still safe within the town.

You wouldn't mind doing it yourself in two trips, but if Joel is offering help, you don't see any reason not to accept. "Sure, I guess, if you don't mind," you say to him, "I mean, I don't really have that much left to take back. But I'd appreciate the help."

"Course," Joel nods once more as he offers a small smile once he pushes himself up from the stairs, his gaze shifting down towards you. As he tucks his hands into his brown jacket pockets, he seems somewhat tense. "Guess I'll see you tomorrow," he says to you, his words accompanied by another nod before he turns and heads back inside.

Which leads you to be standing on your own porch beside Joel as you lean a box on your knee as you shimmy your keys into the front door. You step inside, pushing the door open as you adjust the box back into your hands, and Joel follows close behind you with his own box in his hands. Once the two of you enter into your home, you immediately notice the familiar smell of dust and old wood filling your nose. You glance back towards Joel, who seems to be taking in the sights of your home.

Joel shifts the box in his hands from the weight of the art supplies and books that it holds as he stands on the landing of your home, observing the smart part of the house he can see. He notices the abundance of paintings hung throughout the entry and into the living room, slightly crooked on the wall, with the different coloured frames making it seem like an eclectic arrangement. Ahead of him, the small and cosy living room is lined with bookcases surrounding a fireplace, with more mismatched furniture peppered throughout that somehow works with the rest of the decor.

To his left, Joel notices the wooden panelling covering the bottom half of the walls of the interior, with a small stand-alone wood coat rack beside a door that leads to the side yard. The coat rack, he can tell, contains your clothing, with basic and practical pieces hanging from the wooden hooks. On the other side of the door, closest to him, is a smaller white coat rack on the wall with a singular pale blue woollen jacket hung on one of the hooks. He wonders why it's separate from the others, his eyes drifting towards the jacket out of curiosity.

"That's Annabel's jacket," you say to him, your voice slightly tinged with sadness as you walk past him and through the archway to the right into another room. Joel watches you as you walk by, his attention caught by the sight of your expression. He quickly pushes any thoughts aside and follows you into the new area, adjusting the box in his hands to get a good grip on it as he does. “My ex made it for her.”

Joel’s head snaps towards you at the mention of your ex and frowns at the back of your head. He goes to question you on your past but shakes his head, opting to ask about Annabel, even though he already knows who she is.

"Annabel?" Joel questions as he takes in the room before him. He's heard the name on countless occasions, seeing it memorialised next to his own daughter's name in Tommy’s house. His curiosity rises slightly as he glances around the space, taking notice of more artwork and pictures in frames that line the walls throughout both rooms.

Joel follows you in placing the box on the dining table in front of him, which is surrounded by six mismatched chairs that are arranged just ever so slightly off from one another. To his right, two bookcases stand on either side of a large window looking out onto the yellow flowers that populate your front yard. Under the window, connecting the two bookcases, is another smaller bookcase, topped with soft white cushions. One of the bookcases next to the window and against the wall is crammed with an assortment of flower pots and small collectables, with a wooden pirate ship standing proud on top of the bookcase.

Joel moves over to the edge of the room, where his eyes lift to admire the handcrafted ship on the top shelf. With his arms crossed in a casual manner, he admires the beautiful handiwork and craftsmanship.

A soft smile barely lifts your lips as you stand next to Joel, your eyes staring towards the ship in front of you. "She was my niece, the kid with me when we met," you say quietly, your eyes locked on the ship before you despite Joel's presence. He looks down at you when you speak, noticing you have taken your long sleeved denim button up shirt off, leaving you in a simple white tee.

His eyes linger for longer than what he would like to admit, but the large faded burn scar travelling up your arms catches his eyes. A delicate fineline vine tattoo accompanies the burn, in the attempts to cover it, he assumes. He’s seen the bottom of the scars on a few occasions, a splash of the scar covering your hands where he also assumes you shielded yourself from whatever burnt you. All he can do is assume, as he would never ask another person about their scars.

A silence settles between the two of you as you step away and head into the kitchen behind Joel. Dark wooden cabinets line the two walls of the kitchen, and the dark pattern on the tile backsplash compliments them beautifully. The countertops are neatly scattered with jars of food, pots, cookbooks, and cooking utensils, creating a pleasant and organised kitchen. Next to the staircase railing on the left, two countertops are propped against it with small containers of tea and coffee along with some mugs and a teapot.

"You have a really nice place," Joel compliments after a moment of silence as he watches you open the different containers on your small coffee station, with your nose pressed onto the opened lid of each container as you sniff them to ensure they're still fresh. With a slight nod, you close the containers back up and put them in a row before turning back towards Joel.

"Thanks," you say with a small smile, glancing around the kitchen once more before deciding to open up the dark brown refrigerator behind you.

Joel moves over to the dining table, ready to pull out a chair with a white flower cushion on the seat when he immediately stops after hearing your sudden and sharp warning. "Don't sit there," you say quickly as Joel looks up from the chair and frowns at you in confusion, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looks at you before shifting his gaze at the white flower cushion chair in front of him.

You release a soft sigh and close the fridge door before turning towards Joel. Joel takes a step back from the table and shifts nervously on his feet, his body language probably speaking volumes as he seems unsure of where to stand.

"That was her chair," you say after taking a small breath, nodding towards the chair before a frown settles into your expression. Joel looks back down at the chair you pointed out, noticing how a layer of dust had settled on the white flower petals of the cushion and he frowns as well. As he rubs at his wrist, where his broken watch is still clasped tightly on it, Joel's eyes drift down to his watch. His own reminder of what he’s lost.

"Sorry," Joel mumbles as he looks down at the floorboards. His response is short and to the point, his face showing signs of self-reproach as he notices the effect his previous actions had on you. He shifts his eyes from the floorboards to a spot somewhere slightly above your head in an attempt to avoid your gaze. In doing so, he lets his hands drop back down to his sides, his body language completely shifting from self-reproach back to the same awkward nervousness that he'd been experiencing ever since he laid eyes on you.

"How much has Tommy told you?" you ask in a flat tone as you stare at the floorboards in front of you, your hands finding their way to your hips. After a short moment of silence, you finally look up at Joel, noticing the raised eyebrow on his face as he waits for your response. With a small sigh, you quickly add, "About Annabel," to your previous question, hoping to provide some clarification as to what you meant.

Joel runs a hand over his face in a sign of exasperation, shifting on his feet as he decides to answer your question. "Tommy avoided the topic, and I never brought it up as it was none of my business. The only thing I know is that you had lost someone," Joel pauses for a moment to swallow, his eyes drifting to the side before he continues, "and that you were hunting them down when I found you at the church."

When Joel looks back at you, you nod and open the door beside him, leading Joel inside the laundry room and into a garage. A line of lockers line half the wall to his left, and a small arrangement of gym equipment fills the space on his right. Stepping further into the room, Joel quickly notices the pinboard on the wall beside the lockers and a large colourful flower mural on the roller door. The board is filled with names, faces, and maps that cover its surface like a web of connections. His face stiffens noticeably upon seeing this, his curiosity rising as he steps up to the board for a closer look.

Joel takes in the information that is plastered over the surface of the pinboard, his mind quickly processing the various names that are scrawled on the board with either an X or some form of marker. His eyes then drift over to the map, which is scattered with circles over towns, names over some locations, and more X’s over others. It is at this point that Joel realises that this is a classic hit board.

"You've been busy." Joel mumbles in approval, nodding as he takes in the various pieces of information that fill the surface of the pinboard. His eyes drift towards the map and the church he found you in, only to spot that it had been crossed out. A line connects the town to another name on the opposite side of the board, also crossed out with a large X. His attention shifts back towards the map as his thoughts begin to piece everything together into a logical explanation for your behaviour back at the church.

Joel taps the name connected to the church with a finger, his tone shifting to one of curiosity as he turns back towards you and asks a question. "That the guy you had tied up in the chair?" You offer a simple nod in response, causing Joel's expression to settle into one that displays a subtle level of surprise, along with a sense of cautious admiration. He then faces the board again, his eyes drifting back over to the names and connections that you had managed to map out.

"Lay it out for me?" Joel asks you as he remains focused on the pinboard and its scattered connections. You move to stand beside him, shifting your body language as you consider how exactly to present your findings in a more organised and explanatory fashion. After a moment of thought, you take a deep breath of anticipation, before quickly beginning to explain everything that you had managed to piece together and connect while he listens closely.

"There were six people in the room the night she died." You gesture to the six names on the board that represent the individuals you've managed to track down and eliminate, to which Joel quickly nods in confirmation. "Tommy and I have found and killed four along with a mass amount of other cult members," you continue, causing Joel's attention to immediately shift towards you upon hearing the mention of a cult. His eyebrows shoot up in obvious confusion, his face stiffening as he turns his gaze towards you for further clarification.

“Cult?” Joel asks dumbfounded.

You wave him off, “I’ll get to that.” You reassure him and Joel nods for you to continue. “Anyway, The one circled is the man that killed her. Problem is, is that he’s the leader of this fucking cult and very hard to track down.” You sigh in frustration before pointing over at the maps. “Tommy and I have scouted a few towns rumoured for cult activity along with gathering intel from members we track down. I got another location from the guy in the church but whether it’s actual intel or not is another story.” You shake your head and sigh again.

Joel follows your pointed finger to a newly circled forest outside of Pierre in South Dakota, his eyes following your finger as it moves over the board. "You mentioned a cult. How did you end up getting involved with a crazy cult?" he asks as he crosses his arms over his chest, his tone shifting to one of curiosity as he waits for you to answer his question.

Joel catches sight of your lowered gaze, noticing how you stare at a photo frame on the table below the board. Inside the photo, the image shows you, Tommy, and a third individual that he assumes to be Annabel standing amongst a field of sunflowers. You smile and hold the camera in your hand as you wrap your arm around the shoulders of the girl next to you, her head tilted up towards Tommy, who is standing beside her as he carefully places a small sunflower in her hair.

"I saved your brother," you say in a soft tone, your face gently turning into a small smile as your eyes remain glued on the memory that the photo in front of you holds.

Before

Early Winter 2019

The loud thunder rolls outside, its deep rumbles of discontent raining down across the tin roof that covers the shed you've taken shelter inside. As if oblivious to the pouring rain, Annabel rushes out of the door before you can express your concern over her catching a cold or some kind of sickness. Tommy pats you on your shoulder and offers you a sympathetic look, his eyes speaking a silent understanding that Annabel's love for the rain is too strong for the two of you to convince her to stay inside.

You and Tommy sit in silence, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder as you observe Annabel outside, laughing and playing in the puddles that the rain had created. Her carefree spirit and childish nature shine bright in this small moment of peace as she enjoys the rain and does cartwheels in the mud. Despite her age of seventeen, she shows just how much of a child she truly is deep down on the inside.

Annabel eventually hustles back inside when the storm further intensifies, her pace quickening as the large raindrops begin to turn into hail, their harsh and deafening tap against the tin roof hurting your ears. Covered in mud and water, she walks back in shivering, making you shake your head at her with a slight smile. You lean over and toss her bag at her feet, clearly showing that while you do care for her, you're also aware of the trouble she's caused herself by trying to enjoy the storm.

"Go change before you catch a cold." You yell over the storm, your voice almost sounding lost within the loud thunder and violent hail that was currently pelting down outside of the shed.

She nods and quietly picks her bag up from where you've tossed it, leaving behind a small trail of water and mud in her wake as she heads towards the back of the building to change. With a sigh of relief, you turn your attention back towards the storm outside.

As the sky outside begins to darken with the coming of the night, Tommy offers to take the first watch. You initially disagree with him, noticing the dark circles that have formed under his eyes as he was stubborn enough to not wake you for your shift last night and he had stayed awake the whole night. After some convincing, he finally agrees to sleep while you take care of the watch, while Annabel sleeps peacefully in the corner of the room.

You're sitting outside of the shed under the extended roof to shelter you as you maintain your watch. As you stare into the shadows of the trees that tower over the isolated shed, your eyes shift towards a spot of motion as you witness a pair of boots step out from behind the treeline. For a split second, you're shocked by this sudden change in your otherwise peaceful environment as your eyes dart over to the location to see more and more pairs of boots marching out of the ferns and heading towards the shed.

You stand and quickly pick up Tommy's rifle from beside you, swiftly clicking the safety off as your voice immediately calls out for him where he's still sleeping inside. You quickly count the number of individuals marching towards the shed, tallying up eight figures that are all holding an array of weapons. One on the far left holds a shotgun in your direction, while a few hold bow and arrows and the rest carry a mixture of melee and projectile weapons.

"Oh, fuck me." you mutter under your breath, the adrenaline pumping through your veins as you widen your stance and take aim with Tommy's rifle. You look through the scope, scanning the eight individuals marching towards the shed and focusing on the individual with the shotgun. Your breath steadies as you aim the rifle at the figure, taking a deep breath and exhaling before squeezing the trigger. A single shot rings out, muffled by the heavy rain in the night as the bullet tears through the air and lands between his eyes, dropping him instantly.

You yell Tommy's name once more as you hope that he hears it over the thunderous storm raining down outside. You take aim again and land another shot in one of the armed men as they continue to advance towards the shed, but there are too many for you to take down before they reach you.

Cursing under your breath, you reload the rifle quickly, only to be yanked off balance as your finger squeezes the trigger. The bullet fires into the air and hits a tree before you regain your footing.

The rain outside rages, its loud thunder and aggressive downpour drowning out your hearing as it lashes against the shed door above you. As you remain focused on the marching group of men that is approaching your hiding spot, somebody has managed to sneak up to your side and take you by surprise and you feel your control of the situation slip through your fingers like the rain above you.

As you find yourself struggling over the rifle in your hands, the masked man aggressively attempts to yank it away from you. You grunt from the exertion of your grip on the gun, quickly tugging it towards you as you manage to headbut the individual fighting you over the rifle. They stumble back from the surprise, their arms still locked on the gun as they continue to fight over the weapon.

A sudden pair of hands wrap around your face, immediately causing you to panic as you find yourself unable to breathe properly. In a moment of desperation, you quickly release the grip of Tommy's rifle and pull your knife from your belt. The blade quickly strikes into the thigh of the man behind you, leaving him in obvious pain as you try to break free from his grip.

You quickly pull the knife out of the man's thigh as he lets go of your face. With a quick turn, you immediately plunge the blade back into him as he tries to stem the blood flow from his wounded leg by holding onto his thigh, the tip of the blade catching his neck and immediately causing blood to spray across your face. The man's grip on his wound loosens as he struggles to breathe in spite of the knife wound on his neck and collapses to the ground as you pull your weapon free again.

With your attention once again on the man that had pried the rifle from your hands, you quickly throw your knife towards him, the blade spinning through the air and impaling the man through the chest thanks to your short range advantage. The knife pierces deep into his chest and rips through the raincoat he's currently wearing, causing him to lower the gun as he stumbles back. He lowers the rifle to his side as his free hand clutches onto the knife.

With swift steps, you stride towards the man as you quickly remove the handgun from your holster on your thigh. Without any hesitation whatsoever, you point the gun at his chest and empty two shots into his midsection. Each bullet causes his body to jolt and shake as they slam into his chest, leaving a dark splash of blood on the mud beneath him as he falls to the ground.

A sudden arrow shoots past your head and you quickly dive and flatten yourself to the ground beside the man you just killed. The rain now drenching you as you retrieve the gun from the dead man's grasp as you roll onto your stomach and position the rifle on top of a nearby rock to provide you with stability. From your new vantage point, you take down another two men before Tommy finally opens the door to the shed with Annabel shielded behind him.

The rain had settled somewhat, still obnoxiously loud but you’re able to hear Tommy yell over the rain. "GET TO THE TREES" he yells towards you as he guns down a man standing to your side with his handgun. You flinch as he drops beside you and you scramble to your feet as Tommy jogs over to you.

More hooded figures emerge from the thicket of trees in front of you, seemingly increasing in numbers. Tommy pulls your knife from the man on the ground and swaps you for his rifle. You sheath the knife back into your belt before he shoves Annabel towards you and you stumble back a step as her hands clutch your soaked shirt to regain her footing from the shove.

Tommy shouts "I'LL COVER YOU, JUST KEEP RUNNING!" over the rain, but you refuse to leave him. You shake your head, you won’t abandon him. When you don't move, he shoves you backwards despite your protest. "I'M RIGHT BEHIND YOU!" he shouts once more as rain pours down his face. He turns from you and begins dropping bodies as he shoots into the crowd. You grit your teeth in reluctance as you grab Annabel's arm, both of you bolting for the treeline behind the shed.

You sprint through the thick and dense array of trees, your lungs and legs heavy from exhaustion as you run with one hand clasping tightly onto Annabel's arm and your gun held in your other hand. Water and mud are splashed onto your pants as you run through puddles, but you continue pushing forward as you run from one tree to the next with Annabel attempting to keep up with your quick pace.

You briefly look over your shoulder to see if Tommy is following behind you, but you find yourself alone despite your hopes. Annabel screams beside you as you quickly turn your head back in front of you to see a hooded individual jump down from a tree branch in front of you. As he leaps to the ground, you quickly shove Annabel out of his path as he lands a few feet in front of you. Sliding to the ground feet first, you slide under his legs and grab onto his leg to pull him to the ground with you. He falls face first into the mud, which you utilise to your advantage to shoot the back of his head as you scramble back to your feet.

Wiping the mud from your face, you expect to look back and see Annabel. But you don’t. You scan the trees for her, for a glimpse of her black hair but see nothing. Panic slowly grips your throat as you spin on your feet and desperately search for any sign that could lead you back to Annabel. You look around, screaming out her name as she seems to be nowhere to be found.

She was just here, she shouldn't have gone far.

A scream cuts through the thick woods to your left and the wet hair on your head whips across your face as you turn towards the sound. You scream Annabel's name once again, your voice drowned by the loud rain and thunder. You continue your sprint through the woods to the source of the scream, your legs pushing themselves to their limits as the forest quickly swallows you into its cold and wet embrace. There's no sign of Annabel as you continue to run, but your ears catch snippets of her screams through the thick foliage of the woods.

Pushing your way through a thick patch of ferns, you spot Annabel being roughly dragged to the ground beside a large group of horses. You look up from Annabel, noticing that there's a much larger gang of hooded individuals stationed and scattered around the horses. They're all gathered on a narrow dirt road, which is barely visible through the thick foliage surrounding this area of the woods.

Annabel screams yet again as a hooded figure ties a thick and rough rope around her kicking legs, causing her to thrash in an unsuccessful attempt to escape. Hearing her cries, you yell her name as you emerge from the deep, thick foliage of the ferns in a sprint towards them. As you approach the line of horses and the group of hooded figures surrounding them, another hooded figure jumps down from a branch above you and knocks you to the ground beneath their weight before you can reach Annabel.

You land on your stomach as the hooded individual behind you yanks your gun from your grasp and presses his knee onto your back to hold you in place. He grabs a handful of your damp, wet hair, ripping your head upwards and away from the muddy ground before slamming it forcefully back down on the rough surface. The force of the impact makes your vision blur for a moment, your face burning in pain as mud sloshes against your skin and drips down your forehead. The hooded individual releases your hair and presses your gun against the back of your head. "Don't move," he calmly says to you.

The final thing you manage to see before he hits the back of your head with your own gun is a blurry vision of Tommy, the individual that you so deeply care for, being dragged from the treeline, his body limp and a nasty cut on the side of his head. With that image burnt into your memory, your eyes slowly manage to drift to the side as unconsciousness finally manages to overtake your body.

You're awoken with a sudden jerk, your head hitting something hard that quickly causes you to flinch in pain. Struggling to open your eyes, they find themselves immediately meeting a scene of tree tops and the foggy sky above you. Groaning in pain as your back aches, your head turns to the side in order to avoid any further injury from the surrounding objects. Once your gaze is shifted, you notice the ground beneath you is rapidly moving, causing your head to quickly move in the opposite direction.

“What the-” You murmur as you look down at your body. Your legs are tied by rope and attached to the back of a horse as it trots down a dirt road. Your eyes widen and you move your arms, just to find they’re bound by rope to your chest.

Casting a glance to your side, you notice Tommy in the same predicament as yourself. His legs are also tied to the back of a horse while his arms lay on his chest with the rope holding his upper body securely in place. The realisation that you are trapped in this horrific situation starts to set in, causing your breathing to quicken in fear as you attempt to process the situation you are now in.

Before you’re able to check for Annabel, another rock hits your head hard enough for you black out again.

Chapter 6

Notes

I tried really hard to describe your house, without over doing it and i hope its okay!

Also first look into the cult that killed Annabel!!

I rewrote the fight scene three times before i settled with this. I found it hard to write this scene, although you aren't the talented fighter you are yet in the present, you've still been out in the thick of the outbreak since you were 14, so you can fight, just not "take down a whole group" skilled yet. Also, I hope the rain being obnoxiously loud is enough for them to be surrounded, lol. Rain can be so loud omg. I have a metal roof and I can't hear the person next to me sometimes.

Next chapter I'll go into more details about the cult. I'm so excited to explore their beliefs, they're crazy.

I think that's everything, hope you enjoyed this chapter, even though it's on the shorter end of what i normally post.

Making a separate post for the house I decorated for this fic!

Divider by the beautiful saradika

layout of your house found below

#joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel tlou #tlou joel #tlou #tommy miller #joel x fem!reader #joel x reader #joel fanfic #tlou tommy

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cassiaallen · 10 months

Text

I have had this in my notes forever, and since I’m not sure if I’ll ever turn this into a fanfic, I thought I’d post it here.

A lot of this is my own version of canon, but it’s also partly inspired by wonderful accounts such as @halfblood-princes-crown, @moonlightdancer26 and more.

Hope you enjoy!

Severus Snape’s Death Eater Journey

-Eileen married Tobias because she was the eldest of her siblings and thus the "heir" and hated it

-she was in Gryffindor (hat stall, almost in Slytherin)

-Tobias was a misogynistic wife-beater and child abuser

-he hated magic

-he didn’t like feeling his wife was superior to him

-he beat his wife to "get the magic out of her" and when that didn’t work, he did the same to his son

-Severus started to resent T when he was about 5

-his first bit of magic showed during a time when he was defending himself against his father

-he started thinking "are all muggles this bad?", but slightly changed that view whenever he spoke to his muggle neighbours and the Evans family

-Sev is excited to go to Hogwarts as he thinks he can finally escape his family’s tormenting

-he latches onto Lily as she’s A) magical (and thus, an "outsider" like him) and B) a complete contrast to everything he had ever known

-encounter in the train 01.09.1971

-at first, he brushes it off

-Lily being Sorted into Gryffindor upsets him mainly because it reminds him of his miserable home life (Gryffindor as a symbol of badness)

-first week of school, J&S play a prank on Sev

-they find his reaction funny, play some more pranks on him during the next few months and decide to make him their main target

-part of J&S detentions are the result of Sev telling prefect Lucius (this in turn contributes to their hatred of Sev and Slytherin)

-the pranks are physically harmless at first, "just" humiliating

-Sev throws himself into his studies, becoming a very skilled wizard

-in year 2/3, the "pranks" become more and more physically violent

-in year 4, Sev accidentally hexes an OC as he believes them to be one of the marauders (he just saw someone coming in his direction from the corner of his eye)

-he apologises and takes the OC to the hospital wing

-the only people that somewhat listen to him when it comes to the M are Slytherins

-he is not close to any of them though

-he starts hanging out with Avery and Mulciber

-he’s happy to be somewhat included, so he doesn’t openly criticise their anti-muggleborn views

-despite his friendship with Lily, Sev associates the Light™️ with his oppressors

-he begins to learn more about the Dark Arts to fight back (he focuses on the opposite of what his bullies stand for)

-he hears slurs in his common room all the time and often they refer to his bullies (which is largely why he calls Lily that)

-he never says the slur out loud, only in his head/under his breath

-one time Sev and Mulciber bitch about the Gryffindors/his bullies in particular and Sev calls Remus + Peter the slur under his breath (he wants to get back at them for all the pain they’ve caused him by supporting J&S)

-Sev says he dislikes an OC as much as the M, which leads to people believing he calls everyone of Lily’s birth the slur

-January 1976 Werewolf Incident

-February 1976 Mulciber tries doing something to Mary MacDonald ("They don’t use Dark Magic though.")

-Sev's anger and bitterness increases as Dumbledore forces him to keep quiet about the WI

-May/June 1976 Lake Incident (+ failed apology)

-Sev comes home that summer to find out his father had (accidentally) killed his mother ("She fell down the stairs.")

-the summer holidays are awful as A) Sev misses his mum and B) his father now takes all his anger out on him

-he spends as much time outside as possible

-he spends some time on the playground where he first saw Lily

-he writes her a letter, delivers it personally, and Lily’s parents promise to give it to her (she never responds)

-year 6 is the worst bullying ever, as J&S A) realise Sev no longer has Lily’s support and B) Sirius’s disowning fuelled their anger at Slytherins

-Lily pointedly ignores him

-Sev's only safe haven is the Dark Arts, but he is also hesitant as this is what drove Lily (=the Light) away

-due to the increased bullying that year, Sev ends up in the hospital wing every other week

-summer 1977 is when he starts getting caught in the loop of "I want power to protect myself from my pain (J&S, Gryffindor, everything they represent)" and "but I don’t want to commit evil acts (Cruciatus Curse etc)"

-through spies at Hogwarts (Lucius?) Voldemort finds out about a skilled and vulnerable Sev and starts preying on him

-he is on the fence, but when he finds out Lily is dating James (his tormentor) in 1978, that tips him over the edge

-his motivation for joining the DE is revenge for the pain the light side caused him (the M bullying, Dumbledore covering it all up, Lily "betraying" him by joining his tormentors), gaining power to protect himself against future attacks, and to protect Lily from "their clutches"

-he comes home that summer to find out his father died in a car accident (he was driving while drunk), so he owns the Spinner’s End house

-he receives the Dark Mark a few months after graduation September 1978

-Voldemort instructs Sev to use his home to make potions for the DE

-he occasionally takes part in battles, but during his first year, his main job is brewing potions

-while spending so much time at home, he goes through his old belongings and discovers things from his friendship with Lily

-guilt starts to manifest, but the DE are the first people who value him and his skills and don’t make fun of him, so he ignores their pure-blood ideology even though he doesn’t believe in it himself

-in 1979/1980 Voldemort starts using Sev as a spy as he recognises his talent for it during previous battles

-15.05.1980 the Prophecy

-August 1980 Voldemort decides to go after the Potters and guilt hits Sev in the face so hard he can barely breathe

-"well, I don’t care about Potter, but I can’t leave Lily dead or unhappy"

-asking Voldemort to spare her (had he asked for the whole family, it would have been suspicious)

-asking Dumbledore to spare all ("Anything.")

-starts teaching at Hogwarts (V believes it is to spy on D but it’s actually the opposite)

-Halloween 1981

-guilt and grief times ♾

-"Always."

#harry potter #snape #severus snape #severus snape headcanon #anti marauders #anti james potter #anti sirius black #death eaters #tw ab*se #tw mysoginy #tobias snape #eileen prince #hp headcanon #hp hcs

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everlasting-elegy · 1 year

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Permanence | Thoma x Reader

As Teyvat cried out for your aid, you and the Traveler set sail for Sumeru, leaving Thoma behind.

Genre: Angst, One-Sided Love (Thoma loves you <3), You’re not the Traveler (you’re just travelling with them), Hopeful(-ish?) Ending Word Count: 1.8k A/N: Haven't seen much Thoma angst so I decided to do it myself :DDD good GRIEF my writing is rusty but still hope you enjoyed~

Despite being a foreigner, Thoma had gotten used to the ways of the land. Ever since he was swept onto the shores as a young boy and taken in by the Kamisato Clan, he had grown up in the land of eternity. The nation turned and worked like clockwork, shops open and close at the same time, Thoma could expect to see the same faces on his errands. Every morning he would greet his masters and colleagues, every night he would bid them a goodnight as he returned to his chambers and the cycle would repeat. That was the routine he followed, and the rest of the nation was bound to it too, rising up each morning knowing what was to come and who to talk to.

And as such, he wasn’t particularly experienced in goodbyes.

He wasn’t used to the tightening in his heart as the Crux successfully made port, his heart would usually be racing. It should be racing, the ship would bring new exotic produce or even better, more fascinating people. But not today. Not today on this annoyingly bright day that promised good weather and calm seas. Not on this day where the Crux would be leaving with you.

Instead, his heart was now in the depths.

“That should be everything,” Beidou called out to the crew, nodding in satisfaction at the restocked cargo and they started to reboard. You and the Traveler stayed on the dock for the final debriefing with the Yashiro Commission.

“We cannot thank you enough for your contribution to Inazuma,” Ayato said.

“Have safe travels but please do come again,” Ayaka’s smile was brighter than her brother’s.

“You know, I’ve never been to Sumeru,” Thoma stated, innocently. It was a sudden comment. Whatever it took to have you regarding him with that smile again.

“Neither. Apparently the temperature can take a toll on you but it still sounds like an amazing place.”

It was adorable how you glowed at the mention of another land. He remembered seeing it when you first stepped into Inazuma, each island bringing a fresh aesthetic seen nowhere else in Teyvat. Even when he first brought you to the Kamisato Estate, you reacted as if he took you to the edge of the world. When you commented on how well kept the place was, Thoma couldn’t help but beam at your praise.

No matter where he took you, you would hold an expression of wonder as you would take in the surroundings, and Thoma? Well, he would be taking in the miraculous sight that was you. It was not as if he was missing anything, your shining eyes reflected the environment perfectly for him. He could stare at it all day. You definitely had fond memories here - Thoma wouldn’t let you leave until you did - but with that fondness came familiarity. Weeks of commissions and repetition left you with a comfortable but weary smile. It had been a long time since Thoma saw your eyes hold such wonder and curiosity and he got to see it again.

Right when you were leaving him.

“Once we figure out Sumeru, we might go back to Mondstadt in a few weeks to pay some old friends a visit,” you explained. “It’s been a long time since you’ve been in Mondstadt, right? We should meet there.”

“Of course!” Thoma responded, instinctively taking a step forward. Your smile widens as you put a hand on his shoulder and he places a hand on top of it. He doesn’t think about the looks that the Kamisatos are giving them, he can feel it on the back of his skull. It would look neutral to you but Thoma could read the nuances. He doesn’t want to see their faces ever so slightly creased in pity, silently apologising that their retainer has a duty that ties him to the land. He doesn’t need to be reminded of the chores that he would usually welcome with open arms. Not now. There is a more fleeting matter in front of him.

He tries to ingrain the feeling of your hand in his. How reassuring the weight of your hand on his shoulder is. If he had known that these affections would be so finite, he would have savoured them all more. Every brush of the hand, every ruffle of the hair, every hug at the end of the day. They were so casual, an instinctive way of life similar to breathing. And now he was taking in one last gasp of air, a final breath that would have to last him for archons knows how long.

He was holding his breath when you pulled away, finally boarding the Crux. He wracked his mind for anything he could say or do to make you stay. To turn around and say that you should stay for one more night, perhaps one more hotpot game? But he was no strategist like the Yashiro Commissioner, such schemes didn't come naturally to him. Even the Hydro Archon seemed to be against Thoma, with how gentle the seas were as the waves lapped gently at the shore. Each pull back from the shore was a gentle tug to the Crux, lulling it out to the glistening waters. Never did the world beyond Inazuma look so inviting.

“Any final words for our dear allies?” Ayato asked his sister and to his retainer, but the slight inclination of his head suggested it was directed to the latter. Thoma swallowed and looked at the ground abashedly.

“May I, milord?”

“Of course.”

He took a step forward. Then a second. His legs were as stiff as the wooden planks he was trudging on. Rickety, unstable, he wanted to blame his janky walk on the uneven floorboards and not how his cracking heart made his world feel like it was spinning. Only when he looked at you could he balance himself. The one constant as you stood at the front of the ship, leaning over in anticipation once you noticed he was walking towards you. His anchor.

Perhaps, Thoma could tell you how much he wanted to be with you. There could be a way. Even if he was confined to the islands of Inazuma and couldn’t join your grandiose journeys, he could wait. Wait for your return. Wait for when all was said and done and you could come back here, to him. As a foreigner he was always disconnected from Inazuma, but this he understood: as the land of eternity he would wait an eternity for you. Was it possible? That out of all the marvelous and eccentric individuals you’ve met and will meet on your travels, that you would find him most special?

… who was he kidding.

A mundane civilian is just that regardless of which land they reside in. No matter the ranks he climbed or the loyalty he displayed, he will still be the humble boy from Mondstadt trying to fill in shoes that are too big for him. And yet he still had the gall to even consider winning your affections.

He had no right to, but he still wanted to try. Even when it seemed all of Celestia was mocking him for reaching for something so unattainable. You may be in front of him now, but when will he see you again once you disappear from the horizon? Will he ever see you again? Thoma didn’t have an Anemo vision but perhaps the winds could carry his words instead.

I love you.

But who was he to say such words to you?

“Feel free to come back!” Thoma beamed, smile forcefully widening as you smiled back. He prayed from this distance you didn’t see how his cheeks ached and strained, or how his eyes glistened under the sun. The arm he waved in farewell was more frantic than energetic. But you’re too far away to notice that, or that his arm trembled as he held it in the air, his limb suddenly too heavy as it collapsed to his side. He won’t let you notice, he refuses to be the one to sully the next delightful part of your life that he can’t be a part of. “I speak on behalf of the Kamisato Clan, Inazuma will always welcome you with open arms.”

I will always welcome you with open arms, Thoma bit his cheek as the thought ran through his mind. He gave a half-hearted nod of reassurance - but was he really trying to comfort; you or himself? - as he walked back to his place behind his superiors. He didn’t miss the eyebrow lift from Ayato, or how Ayaka gazed at him with wide eyes, their faces slightly creased with that humiliating pity. A silent apology hung in the air, but he had no need for it. Unless their apology could turn a ship back, or relieve him of the only life he’s ever known, it meant nothing.

And so, when the Crux was past the horizon - Thoma triple checked to make sure - the Yashiro Commission staff all returned to their posts.

“We forgot to arrange a parting gift for them,” Ayaka whispered quietly to her brother under her fan as they wandered back to the estate, even though no one except for Thoma could hear them. “Such dear friends and we couldn’t even offer some refreshments?”

“Ah, so we have,” Ayato hummed in acknowledgement. “Then that just means they will have to return here to make up for our transgression. Isn’t that right… Thoma?”

The Commissioner’s voice was light with mirth, his way of reassurance. Thoma responded with a smile that couldn’t reach his eyes; for when he had watched your figure as it disappeared into the horizon, you did not look back once.

But that was okay.

Thoma couldn’t truly call himself a citizen of Inazuma if he didn’t entertain the thought of eternity. He was alright with returning to business as usual. He can keep preparing dinners even if you’re not there chopping up ingredients beside him. He can negotiate with the hard-headed traders without you knocking some sense into them. He can do it with the uncertain promise of your return, a promise more whimsical than the fortune slips handed out at Narukami Shrine.

Until then, he willed himself to enter the state of waiting. He may not be well-acquainted with farewells, but he was plenty experienced in greetings. And so, he’ll wait for the Crux to dock once again with familiar cargo, so he can say hello to you one more time.

Genshin Impact Masterlist

#thoma x reader #thoma angst #thoma x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #thoma x yn #thoma fluff #genshin impact fic #everelegy genshin #everelegy writes

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claireelizabeth85 · 5 months

Text

Project Life

So I have never posted my WIPs here, I have mainly read and reposted. That said, I have been wanting to write more and more over the last few months and also conquer my fear of posting online. That said - here is the first part of my current WIP - Project Life.

The timeline for this WIP is the intervening years between CA: CW and A: IW.

Summary: A young girl is found in cryostasis in an old but still active HYDRA bunker. Who is she? Where did she come from and what do the US Military and HYDRA want her?

TW: (this is the first time that I've had to write TW, so please bear with me - if I miss any, please let me know) - explosions, gunfire, gunshots, minor!character death.

You do not have permission to copy or repost my work to any other sites.

AN: I would just like to thank @ellemj for giving me the boost in confidence to actually post this.

AN 2 - The Russian is Google translated. I do apologise if I am butchering the language and it doesn't make sense.

Eastern Europe/Russian Border – 1974

“Professor, we've got to move—fast! They're coming!" Sergi Morozov, the project's junior scientist, pleaded urgently, as he hastily crammed notebooks into his bag and secured microscope slides in their protective cases. Chosen for the project straight out of his second year at Moscow University, he had initially seen it as an opportunity to contribute to his country beyond military service, fuelled by aspirations that went above the confines of a uniform. Little did he know that joining the project would throw him into a race for survival, his academic pursuits now taking a backseat to the urgent need to escape impending danger.

“Я не оставлю свое исследование. Я не был членом организации 28 лет назад, поэтому мне не удалось проникнуть и увидеть первое и единственное успешное применение сыворотки. Ко мне даже не обратились, когда создавали Солдата. Это мой шанс сделать что-то для дела, так что нет, я не брошу свои исследования сейчас, не когда я буду так близок. Пусть они приходят.”

“I will not leave my research. I was not a member of the organisation 28 years ago, so I was unable to infiltrate and see the first and only successful use of the serum. I wasn't even approached when they created the Soldier. This is my chance to do something for the cause, so no, I won't give up my research now, not when I'm this close. Let them come.”

Levi Kuznetsov, the project’s senior genetic scientist, continued to huddle over his desk.

“Professor, they are coming!!” Morozov pleaded, “If they find us, they will put us on trial like they did with everyone else 30 years ago. They might not hang us for this but I do not want to spend the rest of my life in prison!” Kuznetsov sighed, rubbing his temples. Footsteps and gunfire could be heard echoing down the hallway.

“PROFESSOR! We have to go! We can put her on ice like they do with the Soldat and come back and get her once the Americans have left. We have all the information that we need. We will succeed in this. I promise!!”

Sergi Morozov and Professor Kuznetsov did not make it out of the lab alive. They perished in an airstrike, a devastating attempt to erase the very research facilities they once occupied. Despite the meticulous ground reconnaissance and the relentless pursuit of SHIELD agents scouring the rubble for survivors, the after-action reports submitted to the Director made no mention of discovering anyone in cryostasis. And so the young woman stayed there, trapped in her icy cocoon, frozen in time, waiting until someone found her and brought her home.

42 years later - Eastern Europe

Nick Fury rubbed his gloved hands together to try and get some feeling into his fingers. After his faked death in DC two years ago, he had taken on the task of hunting down and destroying HYDRA cells. Slowly working his way from one pocket of infection to another. Each cell was dismantled from the inside out. He now stood in the wrong part of some Eastern European city, hoping that the person he was waiting for was going to deliver the information he needed and not another bullet wound.

“Too god-damn cold” Fury grumbled to himself as he waited. A young man walked towards Fury, his steps echoing on the quiet street. He kept his head down, trying to appear inconspicuous. He had pulled the black woollen hat further down over his ears trying to keep the bitter wind chill out

“You’re late.” Fury wasn’t in the mood to play nice. He wanted to rip HYDRA to pieces for what they had done over the last 70 years. Infiltrating his organisation, infecting everything that he had worked hard to protect. The idea that he had no idea, that Alexander Pierce had been part of HYDRA for as long as he had known him right underneath his nose made his blood boil. The betrayal ate away at him and made him question whether he knew what was going on at all.

“I wanted to make sure that I wasn’t followed. I know what awaits me when all this comes out in the wash, but I wanted to at least do something right.” The man handed Fury a brown envelope.

“She’s in the underground bunker. The building on top was destroyed years ago. The shift change is at 9pm, and if you want to get her out of there, you’re going to need help. There’s a few of us that are…that have realised we were fighting for the wrong side who will help you. It won’t be easy. Some of the fanatics have doubled down on their “beliefs”.

Fury took the envelope, pulling out the file. Flicking through the various photographs and experiment results, he couldn’t believe what he was reading. His Russian was rusty but he got the jist. Looking at the informant, he narrowed his eyes.

“How long have you known about her?” He asked accusingly. “How long have you guys had her on ice?” The informant held his hands up in surrender. “Hey man, I know as much as you do. Just remember that she was originally your pet project - not HYDRA’s. They just stole her from you.”

Fury shook his head. If what the file was saying was true, then the US military had a lot of things to answer for, and a lot of important people, people he called friends, would want answers.

Shoving the file into his jacket, Fury rubbed his hands together again to try and preserve what little heat he had in his hands. He needed to get out of here. They were too exposed out in the open. “Have your friends ready for tomorrow night. I’m taking her home..”

24 hours later

The mission was a success in the grand scheme of things. Fury’s informant had been true to his word and several members of HYDRA personnel helped him retrieve the cryostasis pod. And just like all the other cells that Fury destroyed, it ended with a hail of bullets and well-placed explosives.

The young man, whose name Fury did not want to know, yelled at him to leave with the rest of the whistleblowers. He had been shot and knew that his time was up. Grabbing hold of Fury’s jacket and pulling him down to his eye level, making sure that the master spy took in what he was saying.

“I know who and what she is, so I know that she’s important to you and America. But you need…” His whole body was wracked with heavy coughing, blood starting to collect at the corner of his lips, “but you need to know . She’s important…” another wheezing cough ripped through his chest “...to HYDRA.” The man spat blood on the floor both as a protest to the name in his mouth and to allow him to speak.

“I read her file,” he coughed, his breathing ragged and laboured. “She’s the only one left. There’s no one else like her. The boys didn’t make it. Now they know she’s been found, they will try and come for her. She is more important to them than the Winter Soldier ever was.” The dying man rested his head against the wall, his grip on Fury’s jack faltering.

“Потомки нашего противника будут стоять рядом с нашим солдатом, воспитывая нашу армию, как если бы они были собственными потомками.”

"The progeny of our adversary will stand beside our Soldier, nurturing our army as if they were their own offspring."

Fury glared at the man, as though he had whispered indecent thoughts.

“You have to read the file. What I gave you yesterday...” his voice quiet and laboured. “...you have to understand what they wanted to do with her. You have to protect her.” The man dropped his hand from Fury’s coat. His last breath hung in the air between them.

Fury sprinted across the barren, icy terrain, his heavy breathing visible in the freezing air. Every muscle in his body was tense with the knowledge that time was running out. He could feel the ground shaking beneath him as the C4 that had been hidden during the rescue started a daisy chain of explosions within the bunker.

Finally, he reached the designated rendezvous point, his hands shaking with adrenaline. Pulling out his satellite phone, he knew that everything hinged on the next two calls he was about to make. The fate of the woman inside the pod depended on their success. With a deep breath, he dialed the numbers, his eyes never leaving the horizon, scanning for any sign of danger.

“Dr Cho, Nick Fury. I need your help. I’m going to send you some coordinates - do you think you could be there in 12 hours? Can you do that? Yes. It’s important. I understand. Thank you.” Watching as the stasis pod was lifted into the back of an SUV. Fury checked his watch. It would be early hours in New York. Dialling a secure line, he wanted for the second call to connect.

“Stark, it’s Fury. You know me, I’m like a damn cat - too many lives to enjoy. Listen, I need you to get the team together. I’ve found something that you’re all going to want to see.” Fury waited as Tony explained that the team was no more, that Steve and his band of traitors had left after the fight in Germany and Siberia, and that they would be arrested if they came back.

“Tony, I know what happened between you and Rogers,” Fury might have been out of the loop, but he still had his ways of knowing what was going on. “But this…situation... is bigger than the both of you and trust me, you’re going to want to be involved. If you have a way of contacting him - then do it. I’ll send you the coordinates shortly.”

Nick Fury was not a religious or overly superstitious man but in a moment of reverence, he raised his eyes to the sky. “I found her. I found her and as I promised, I am bringing her home.

Continued in Chapter 2

I would love to hear your feedback, the good and the bad (but be gentle with me, please!). If you really liked it, a share or a repost would be fantastic.

If you would like to be tagged in any future chapters, please let me know.

#tony stark #nick fury #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #black widow #natasha romanoff #bucky barnes fics #bucky #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximoff #vision

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sunreisets · 5 months

Note

tell us more about sarzhou please 🥹🥹

HELLO DEAR ANON I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED

Half of what consists of sarzhou is fanon FOR NOW… I don’t know much about their lore yet and I haven’t been digging into sarzhou lore hehe but there is my first very short thesis link here

I did save a few images and I know that the two of them were in this one image and they were both VERY YOUNG like probably in their fourteens-fifteens because Logan does look really young for his age back then and Guanyu looks 15-16 ish IM SO SORRY I COULDNT FIND THE IMAGE I will link it when I find it :D

Here r some images I think can contribute to the sarzhou thesis

Firstly, may be a personally bias but I love both their smiles, very sweet and unique grins and LOOOKKKKKK pre race interaction. I love pre race interactions I love when the drivers come together to gossip. I love friendships I love them!

Thinking about how Guanyu compared to Logan is the more fashionable one while Logan is just. Polo tee cargo shorts. Maybe Guanyu can do something to help with his fashion sense. Nevertheless both of them are perfect either way

(Also Logan playing with the buckle on his cap is so real I do that all the time with my caps too)

THAT NIGHT WHEN THEY WENT TO A PARTY TOGETHER. And many other nights, I think they went to post race parties together a couple of times and believe me or not when I didn’t know Guanyu might have a girlfriend I would have thought they were dating.

Fanon wise Thinking of how maybe they might have asked oscar to come along. And oscar couldn’t (noooooooo 😭) so they went themselves. Silly

(That height difference though)

Was this F3 days? I think f3 or Prema. Yes they’ve come from the childhood friends trope as well love love love that trope so much (Hi Sean)

Currently I like thinking about how they bonded because both of them were so called “outcasts” as well, Guanyu being an Asian karter in Europe and Logan an American, they aren’t from Europe/England and I love thinking about how Oscar and Guanyu introduced Logan around when he first moved to England on his own (before meeting benny). AM I MENTIONING OSCAR TOO MUCH IM SO SORRY I just love the guy

(Also Logan I’m sorry that cut. I’m so sorry who did this to you)

CIRCA 2023 I don’t know which race this was. But we have a couple moments of Alfa Romeo x Williams boyband this year and aufufufifucifufu my favourite blorbos. Valterri looks like a dad

OSCAR HEYYYY OSCAR. I associate Guanyu a lot with being Loscar’s third wheel but BUT. what if the turntables. What if Oscar’s the one having to third wheel them

I always remember how Oscar is literally a common figure in both of their social circles, like omg remember the time he said he would go out with Logan and Guanyu to a party after Vegas. That’s one of my Roman empires thank you very much

I DONT HAVE MUCH TO SHARE OF THEM I TRULY APOLOGISE I think I need another season to see how this goes HAHAHA

thanks anon for sending this in it is ssoooo fun to do a much needed hunt for their content!! I love it when you guys send in asks :)

#INSANE ACTUALLY #I love them I need more people to love them we can all love them together #yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee #logan sargeant #zhou guanyu #sarzhou #I’m listening to ateez rn and I have to go to malaysia in an hour #it is 12am

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hollowwrites · 6 months

Text

Blindsided

Part 14

Ominis x MC

Summary - Slytherins host the best parties. When they’re not moping about after causing copius bodily harm. Ominis returns to Evelyn after the dreaded picnic to apologise…with a gift

I’ve moved on from constantly making them pine for each other to constantly being interrupted. I’m sorry I just love it

As always swap Evelyn for your own MC or Y/N

Warnings - Kissing, references to biting, fluffy then mildly spicy like salsa

Word Count - 3508

Slytherins threw the best parties.

It wasn’t even close.

While the other houses had perfectly wonderful dorms, Slytherin had the largest floor space of all the Common Rooms and perfect ambiance created by the large stained glass windows. What little light that poured through created intricate patterns and subtle green hues across the floor. The whole room exuded class and elegance.

Yes, the stone floors were cold and uncomfortable but that just made it all the more cosy when they adorned the walls with beautiful tapestries and delicate sheer curtains. The space radiated warmth for once. The weak orange glow of the fireplaces contributed to this, accompanied by the clusters of floating candles that busied themselves around the hall.

After the picnic had come to a rather abrupt end, everyone skulked back to the Dungeons to help prep the space for the Practise Ball.

Garreth lazily transfigured the ceiling to appear as a twinkly night sky, an ethereal display of the northern light drifting across the room as the night went on. His eyes glazed over as Amit rabbited on in his ear about how Ursa Major should not be visible on the sky in this particular instance.

As the room filled with people of all houses, a soft hum of chatter echoed around the stone halls. A soft tinkly track played over the phonographs dotted across the room.

Though Evelyn remained standing off to the side, a glass of watered down fire whiskey in her hand and a look of disgust across her face.

It was difficult to miss how unhappy she looked. Her features were pinched tight, not even the slightest hint of a positive emotion could be found.

“Come on mardy bum” Garreth slung his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze causing the frown settled on her face to deepen “Let’s have a dance, that is the reason we organised this after all”

“I don’t feel like dancing” Evelyn deadpanned. Ominis’ had been missing since the scuffle with the Durmstrang Student. Her friends explained to her what Mudblood meant and how they were all so thankful she had yet to hear the word. However, the whole day had left a bad taste in her mouth.

She thought the wizarding world better than that…

Perhaps she shouldn’t. Her first year was littered with racial attacks and Sebastians’ prejudice toward Goblins.

It had her completely rethinking the last three years of her life.

And the fact Ominis wasn’t here to comfort her was also exceedingly irritating

No, she was perfectly content leaving all human interaction for the day.

“All the more reason too” Garreth insisted, his face clad with a goofy grin as he tugged on her arm reluctantly bringing her to the make shift dance floor “Besides I need the practise if I’m to sweep Anne off her feet”

“How perfectly manipulative of you, Garreth” She smirked, the slightest bit of amusement showing on her face since the incident.

“How dare you…” Garreth dramatically clutched his chest “I think it’s chivalrous.”

“I think you’ve been hanging out with Sebastian too much”

They took up their proper positions, unlike the last time, and moved across the floor with a surprising level of grace and co-ordination.

“Garreth! You can actually dance” Evelyn said with an air of both awe and joy

“My Aunt has been forcing me to dance for all the years demonstrations.” He rolled his eyes so hard Evelyn feared for his sight. “I’m so thankful she didn’t do it for our year. Sallow would never have let me live it down”

“Very true” she stated before jovial laughter erupted from the spiral staircase leading down to the Slytherin Common Room.

She turned towards the commotion.

Ominis.

And…a gaggle of Durmstrang students?

He looked like Angel amongst them.

Each of them sported dark curls of varying lengths and stocky physiques. And Ominis stood with them, a smile as bright as his hair. Each of the Durmstrangs lightly smacked Ominis on the back as they walked off to mingled into the party…save one.

The shorter Durmstrang student held his hand out to Ominis, who took it and shook it confidently before being pulled into what can only be described as a bear hug.

“Looks like Ominis has made some new friends” Garreth said looking over at the scene and watching Ominis approach them.

“Hmmm…” Eve hums, a knot forming above her brow.

“Apologies Garreth, but may I cut in?” Ominis said, his voice light and airy unlike the last time she heard him.

“Of course you may” Garreth grinned his tone matching Ominis’, accent and all. The red head held her shoulders softly and spoke down to her “If you get the chance, please speak to Anne. I’d like to ask her to the ball”

“I will don’t worry” she smirked up at him as he gave her a tiny squeeze.

“She’s all yours Mr…” Garreth stopped “…I don’t know what to call you now actually…”

“Technically I’m still Gaunt. I haven’t changed my name…yet” Ominis smiled for probably the first time at the mention of his name.

“Well then…She’s all yours Mr Ominis” Garreth bowed deeply before turning to find his next victim to dance with.

An awkward silence fell over the pair. Whilst Evelyn looked up at Ominis his gaze shifted around her form, listening to the uncomfortable pick of her nails and the anxious bounce of her leg

“You’re angry at me?” Ominis guessed after what felt like an eternity of silence. “I don’t blame you…I acted like a brute”

“I’m not mad I just…” she sighed “I don’t know. I’ve had my world turned upside down. I didn’t think that sort of…hate was that prevalent in the Wizarding World. Maybe I was being naive…but…I wanted to talk to you about it. You’ve never sugar coated anything about this world for me. You’ve always been honest…And you weren’t there.”

“I’m sorry the whole situation got out of hand” Ominis delicately took her hand in his, his thumb gently and soothingly running over her knuckles “I needed to take a step back. My immediate thought was I could use my family to get out of this predicament, and when I realised that isn’t an option for me anymore…I panicked. It reminded me, I’m on my own now. I can’t lean on my family anymore and that…it…scared me”

“You’re not on your own. You have me. And Sebastian and Garreth and Imelda and everyone. We won’t let anything bad happen. Same as we know you won’t let anything bad happen to us…”

He exhaled a humourless laugh through his nose.

“I know that now.” Ominis murmured “and I’m not without my own connections” he smirked knowingly, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pointing her in the direction of the Durmstrangs he came in with. “That’s Ivan. We share Transfiguration together. Turns out he is in a similar position to myself, family are all Purebloods and such. And quite influential…he’s already spread a rather nasty rumour about your…pursuer. We don’t need to worry about him” he pressed his lips to her temple.

“That’s good” Evelyn said rather flatly

“You’re still upset” Ominis stated

“No…” she shrugged “…just a long day”

“Well as much as I enjoy dwelling on the past and being a general spoilsport, we are at a party, my love” Ominis held Evelyn close until he felt her hands creep up his back. He smiled into her hair.

“Don’t remind me” She mumbled

“Misery shared is misery halved” Ominis claimed and held his hand out with a slight bow. “May I have this dance?”

“I suppose so…” Her tone was playful and teasing and she smiled, genuinely for the first time in what felt like hours, taking his hand softly. Her fingertips lay delicately in his palm as he took up the proper position and frowned.

“Did Garreth teach you how to dance?” He asked his eyebrow cocked with confusion

“Yes…he’s basically taught the whole school. His Aunt has used him as an example for each year.”

“Well…he’s wrong” Ominis chuckled and placed his finger under her chin, gently coaxing her to stand up straight and look at him. He took her hand firmly in his and brought his other around to the small of her back.

“The question is though…will we be dancing at the ball properly…or will we be dancing in this bastardised form?”

“We?” She asked teasingly “Who said I’m even going?”

Ominis chuckled and began swaying her gently in his arms.

“My apologies. I take it ‘Mystery Man’ hasn’t asked you yet?”

”I’m afraid not” she sighed theatrically

”Is he here? Perhaps I could put some pressure on him to ask you…” and with that he carefully pushed her away into a graceful spin and pulled her back to him “Maybe he’ll see how elegant you look tonight”

”I doubt it. He’s only ever ‘seen’ me, properly, once and we were interrupted even then by Sebastian”

“Ah…well believe me. He would like to ‘see’ you again.” His arm tightened around her waist and he tucked his face slightly into her neck

“…and he would like to see more…if you would oblige him…”

She gasped softly, his breathe swaying the hairs at her neck.

Merlin’s beard, he can’t mean-

“Calm your heart, Little Hummingbird. I don’t mean now.” He smiled softly at her, brushing away some of the hairs he had disturbed and tickled his nose.

“Oh…no I didn’t think…”

“Don’t lie” he chuckled, a noise deep from his chest as he pulled her in closer “…what do you take me for? I’m a gentleman” he smirked

“Right” she said swallowing thickly.

“Though I would like to speak with you…privately” He pulled away then, ‘looking’ the best he could into her eyes.

“Of course, shall we…” she peeked around the large room. Not one corner was free of people. “Erm…we could go to your dorm?”

“Now who’s being suggestive?” Ominis smirked again, the flash of his teeth as he grinned melted Evelyns heart. She tutted playfully and tugged at his hand, peeling him from around her and towards the back of the ornate hall.

The soft click of the door closing behind Ominis was like a switch for anxiety within Evelyn. She had been there before, most notably the first time she ever apparated was into this very room. They had even, on the occasional cold winter evenings, elected to spend their free time in the boys dorms instead of the cold and drafty Undercroft, meaning Imelda could join them without Sebastian being scolding for inviting yet another girl to The Undercroft.

But now the energy of the room seemed charged.

He was joking about seeing more of her right?

Right.

He was a gentlemen. And they had only been together officially for one day.

It was much too fast.

Right?!

So why did she want this?

And why was the knot in her stomach working and winding itself tighter and tighter?

She closed her eyes and was greeted with the images of him kissing her behind the quidditch field, the way his tongue ran along her lip as she gasped. To her sitting in his lap in the Room of Requirement, his nails digging through her clothes across her thigh. To the soft divots left from his teeth in her shoulder that remained there still.

Ominis could sense it too.

His hand softly took hers and lead her over to his bed. He sat, staring out into the room

“I meant it… not now” his voice barely above a whisper, either because he didn’t want people to hear or he was trying to be comforting “I want to…believe me I do” he chuckled “But I want to do it right with you”

“I know…I’m not worried” she lied

“You’re an awful liar, Evelyn Hollow” he smirked.

His expression became soft and loving. A rare sight only afforded to Evelyn when they were truly alone. And then it was…unreadable for a second before his arm disappeared under his bed and retrieved a jet black velvet box.

“This is for you…” he said simply and softly, a gentle smile barely falling over his features. He could hear the way her fingers traced over the velvet before the creak of the boxes hinges. A soft sound of appreciation followed and he exhaled a laugh through his nose

“I’m told it’s quite beautiful…”

And it was.

The ring that sat in the centre of the black velveteen pillow was unlike any ring she had seen before. The stone was large and pointed at the top and bottom, encased in silver filigree vines that crept up its longer sides. The closest approximate colour she could compare it to was a deep moss, the black veins running through it only adding to its organic and natural look.

“I’m just going to guess that it’s green based on where I got it from…” he smirked and filled the silence as Evelyn sat stunned and shaking “…it was my Aunt Noctuas’. I managed to do a little organising of her belongings before my brothers…interruption. I very vaguely remember holding her hand through London as a child and feeling the sharp edges against my fingers” he chuckled softly. It was the only time Evelyn had heard him speak fondly of his family.

“I hated it. But now…I kind of miss it.” His voice was soft and dreamy as though he was living those memories again.

“…I can’t accept this, Ominis…”

“Of course you can” he insisted “She would have loved you, you’re everything she wanted for our family. Strong, Proud and independent, but unafraid to be gentle and accommodating. And not obsessed with blood status.” He chuckled lowly before his eyes flicked slightly towards her, lingering more around her shoulder and neck “Besides…my family hoard precious baubles and artefacts like a dragon might. I get a sick little kick out of a muggleborn now having something Salazar Slytherin probably wore”

Evelyn looked down at the stone and thought about the possibility of a founder of Hogwarts owning it. It sort of made her…resent the item based on what she’d learned. But then she thought about Aunt Noctua wearing it daily during her monotonous day to day activities and suddenly the ring didn’t seem so threatening. In any case, It seemed unlikely any member of the Slytherin family had worn this for dark and macabre purposes based on how dainty and delicate the band was. And the Gaunts seemed anything other than delicate.

Except the former Gaunt before her.

“If you truly don’t want it I’ll give it to Sebastian. He’ll harp on about how owning something from a founder was ‘truly an honour’” his tone took on a mocking edge as he recalled Sebastian’s reaction in the Scriptorium.

“No no I’ll…I’ll take it.” She looked up at him then and he exhaled in relief.

“Excellent” he breathed, taking her hand in his, feeling along her fingers.

“Thank you Ominis. It is. Beautiful I mean” Evelyn says wistfully, staring at the ring in front of her, trying desperately to not think to hard about Ominis gifting her jewellery. Her cheeks already burned so brightly she could feel the tingles in her cheeks and across her chest.

“Have you tried it on? Does it fit okay?” Ominis whispered, with an undercurrent of excitement he’d never really expressed before.

“No I haven’t I-“

“May I?” He asked lifting turning her hand over in his, his hand hovering over the black box that sat in her lap.

“…Of course…” her voice retreated inside herself as he slid the ring over her finger.

It fit, beautifully.

Of course it did.

Everything he did was flawless and he didn’t even have to try.

He smiled gently and his fingers began travelling up her forearm, tickling along the sensitive skin of her wrist and inner forearm. Evelyn shivered against his touch but leant forward anyway.

This was just further evidence that she wanted him. Whilst his fingers remained along her arm, slowly, torturously making their way along her shoulder, she could feel him…

…everywhere.

A cold jolt up her spine forced her to sit up and press closer to him. The tingle left by his fingers crept its way up her neck. He softly cupped the side of her neck, his other hand reaching up to join it, but she could feel a phantom pressure of his thumb across her throat. His clawing fingers over her thigh.

In actuality, he lovingly embraced her jaw, his thumb caressing her cheeks as he once again mapped her face.

She suddenly felt a wave of guilt hit her. He was as sweet and touching as always and yet she bit into her lip harshly at the possibility of something more.

She practically spat her lip out when his thumb came to brush across it.

“Maybe…” he breathed, a dark husky quality to his voice “…we won’t be interrupted by Sebastian this time”

A breathy laugh left her as his fingers explored her features again.

They weren’t as thorough as the last time, almost as though this was a refresher and the sudden thought that Ominis kept knowledge of what she looked like made her skin bloom brightly once more.

How else did you expect it to work?

Of course he knew now. Like how she could conjure an image of him in her mind, now so could he. He just couldn’t call upon the reality as easy as she could. Like how she stared into his eyes when he spoke sometimes and didn’t listen to a word that fell from his stern flat lips.

This time however, it felt less like discovering what she looked like and more like exploring.

He found the slight bumps of her triangle of moles on her cheek. He touched across his own cheek at the similar constellation of marks on his and he chuckled.

“We almost match…”

When his hand returned to her it bypassed her skin and immediately felt through her hair. But again, it didn’t feel like he wanted to know what it looked like. He just wanted to feel it.

Feel her.

That was truly evident when his hand curled into her locks, and lightly tugged at the fistful of hair he held.

Evelyn gasped as her breath caught.

He simply smirked and she could practically see the notes he made in his mind.

“You make…the prettiest noises” he murmured leaning into her neck, his lips brushing over the shell of her ear as his hand dropped to her thigh.

“Ominis…” she breathed.

He never thought hearing his name would illicit such a feeling inside him. His jaw clenched and he laughed into her ear softly and yet…darkly.

Her voice filled him. Every laugh, every gasp, every whisper of his name. Even before she was his.

In class when she called his attention with a slight lean into him and a whisper in his ear. He recalled the way her breath fanned across his ear and it made him hot. Made his insides burn.

The incinerator in his chest escalated from a burning ember to a roaring fire. He was tightly wound and felt as though he would combust at any moment. The flames lapped into his throat making his mouth both dry and yet he was salivating.

His lips brushed against her neck and the low whimper that left her throat quickly became his favourite noise. The accompanying shiver that ripped through her sent him over the edge.

His hand glided along her thigh to the back of her knee and he pulled it, harshly, across his body and around his hip. She fell backwards onto his pillows with a startled chirp. Her breath hitches, her body arching slightly as his hand traced back up her thigh and across the subtle curve of her waist.

She shamelessly nudged the side of his face with hers, nuzzling into him with desperate mewls, seeking out his lips, searching, begging.

He laughed again, husky and dark, his body looming over hers, long and lean.

And as he lowered to finally make contact with her flesh…

A huge crash outside the boys dorm shattered the perfect bliss they had created followed by a chorus of boys laughing and girls giggling.

The combination of Ominis’ sigh and groan sounded more akin to a growl, which did not help Evelyns current situation. Though the threat of being caught did rattle her.

“Why do you insist on doing this at the most inopportune of times?” Evelyn panted, lulling her head back against the pillows and laughing breathlessly. Ominis joined her.

“I don’t know what you mean” he said playfully crawling back off her with a heavy sigh.

“The First Trial? You left afterwards. The Room of Requirement? You were cursed. Now? Middle of a party” Evelyn too sat up, resting her hands on his leg and kissed his cheek.

“It’s not my fault I used all of my willpower in the first few years of knowing you. Can’t exactly tackle the new girl in the corridors now can I”

Masterlist

This is Aunt Noctuas ring that I’m imagining. Did I self insert because I want it so badly? Yes!

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