#no Shadows shall be harmed in the making of next chapter

[wintertimestoryteller]

Linked Universe x Reader Fairy Tale Collection

@luimagines . Third scene in the opening act, it will have 5 scenes in total before actual romance, not fully satisfied with it though so I might remaster it in the future, these past few weeks have been... Something, but I still wanted to move things along and post this week so hope whoever reads this enjoys ^^

Fun Fact: All folks in the theater crew's names are references to an indie series of musical operas, wonder how many people will catch each one, just thought it fitting given the setting, I wouldn't recommend getting attached though, they won't appear at all past the opening act unlike Dark's hired help, who will have a little bit of purpose on the narrative and have some scenes but won't take the spotlight, wouldn't recommend getting attached to any of them.

A few things happened in between the time Reader fell asleep, woke up and fell asleep again.

Plus, there's going to be lots of easter eggs to other fairy tales and fairy tale adjacent stories in the story plus towards Zelda in general, some obvious, others not. Might put some fun facts about them in here before each story and/or act if you're all interested, you can see who will have each story by checking out the original prompt on Luimagines' blog except for First's, Calamity's and Spirit's, I have something special in mind for them. FD only isn't in this story because I'd have to dip into mythological territory for him, but I'll probably write a solo thing for him later on to compensate. Look out for a Masterlist of this after we are done with the opening act.

Oh and uh, warning for fairy tale typical violence in the next scene (I mean, the Disney versions are technically already gruesome and the most recognizable, but other versions also go pretty darn dark) plus Zelda typical violence, so just a quick warning while I can even if it's only on the next act, though the character will technically be fine, if probably traumatized.

Opening Act, Scene III

It barely took a minute to explain the situation to Time, and not even a full hour for your little group consisting of yourself, Twilight, Cal, Time and Wild all to recall the others to the village square to explain the situation in full. The director long since left it and the oak tree looked awfully lonely for a moment against the backdrop of a darkening horizon (when had the storm clouds thickened so much? It was plenty sunny a few hours ago).

As you guessed, Time already heard from the mayor and innkeeper that the inn had been attacked, and he likely would have talked to the director had you not beaten him to it.

"50 rupees this is a trap. Come on now, show of hands for those who think so." Came the sharp, downright arsenic tone from Legend, caged and ornery like a fox (rabbit?) Who once had it's tail caught in a trap and learned the hard way to chew his limbs off to be able to flee for another day.

You can't exactly blame him for getting snappy though, the situation is pretty unsettling and you all know it. And this group had seen a lot.

Four snorted a bit, "No bet, I'm not losing money over something that obvious. I don't know about you all but I really can't believe in coincidences with the way things are lining up."

'It's definitely the work of the Shadow then.', signed Calamity, posture straight and alert. Hand on the hilt of his sword like a silent sentinel, as if expecting we'd all be jumped. A clear contrast from the quiet but polite young man from before, box up the young man, set loose the soldier, '... We're being cornered, led by the noose. We shouldn't accept.'

"It might be the only lead we will have in a while though." Grimaced Warriors, arms crossed as he leans against the oak tree, his strategic mind going a mile a minute through the possibilities. As expected of a war commander and the left hand of his Zelda, "Don't get me wrong, this is all bloody unnerving. Specially given how (Reader)'s conversation went with the director, but it might be better in the long run to risk it and get more leads once the storm passes. Who knows when we'll next find shelter? Getting sick with a storm like this coming with zero information wether or not there's a second village nearby or if any other person will let us stay for a while would just leave us more vulnerable."

"Doesn't exactly mean we have to like it.", Sighed Spirit, a hand on his hip, nervous and skittish but doing his best to contribute anyway, "It's like stepping onto the tracks when you know for a fact there's a train coming no matter how good the reason is, but Cap' is right. Me and Wind asked around, doesn't seem like there's any other villages or cities nearby where we can stop, and the terrain isn't right for caves in this Hyrule. We'd be in big trouble eventually even if we retraced our steps."

"Speaking of that, what do any of you make of this storm?", Hyrule interjects, looking at a frowning Wind, "I can't sense anything particularly magical about the town, except maybe the fortune teller and the potion makers, but..."

Wind groans, frustrated as he crosses his arms, "That's the thing, it looks like it should be unnatural. Winds like that don't blow easily in any of your Hyrule's, specially so far away from sea, it's usually just in mine. It looks wrong, but it doesn't feel wrong! The Wind Waker won't clear it either." Spirit put a hand on his shoulder in sympathy, clearly this was driving the Sailor up the wall as the Link most attuned to the flow of winds and weather, except maybe peculiarly enough Four.

"Have you tried the Song of Day?"

Time nodded to First, "We did it already with the Sailor's baton, no change." True to his word, the howling of storm winds picked up as if on cue, or maybe spite. Almost blowing Legend's hat straight off his head to match Wild's hood, you quickly snatched it as he cursed before it could get too far.

Yup, if this was a natural storm you'd eat Hyrule's cooking for a month straight at a bare minimum. "Do you think there's dark magic involved at all?", You inquire to Twilight, Warriors, Sky and Four, the one's who had the most experience with it out of the group as you finished helping Wild with putting most of your cooking supplies away. Gooseflesh crawls up your arms, it was getting chilly and you couldn't help but look over Wind and Spirit, though it seems Warriors beat you to getting their cloaks repaired at the tailors. They've ripped recently and the thread ran out so you, Legend, himself and Sky couldn't do it as usual.

"Here," he passes you your cloak from his slate, you blink as he gives you a smile, "It's about time I gave it back to you anyway." The habit of Chain members accidentally grabbing stuff from one another was legendary by now (and the fact that some items like Sky's Sailcloth, Twilight's necklace and Four's Sword were off limits, you'd have better luck getting Legend to allow you to borrow an item than getting them to part from those), you just didn't think it would extend to you.

"Thank you.", Smiling, you snuggle into the fabric, tilting your head at the headshake from Twilight as he takes the floor, "If there is, it's too faint for any of us to really notice it. Or it's just not the type we are using to deal with."

"We won't exactly know unless we're in the building most likely.", Sighed your resident captain, the smith nods along and adds in, "There definitely was some around the inn though, in the rubble. But not really anywhere else strong enough to notice, could be because of the monster presence here recently."

"Fi's been quiet too, plus that Raven fellow didn't even seem to bat an eye at her presence, unlike the Shadow would." Sky spoke thoughtfully, you had seen them pass by one another didn't they? It was likely then that he checked.

"Mhn, they act strangely but they're not possessed from what we can see either."

Legend shakes his head with a huff, "Much as I hate to admit they're right, disguised monsters usually have cracks in their facades, either it's a really good, really patient one, or just a Goddess damned weirdo with a few screws loose."

Neither alternative is good, you think and despite yourself, your gaze drifts to the theater building again. True to the stranger's word, the doors were open and the gales were picking up, you still have that niggling feeling from before, the unease that picks up the shoe before letting it drop, the feeling of being at a stalemate with a Lynel or breaths away from getting shot down by a Guardian as you look at the dim lights of the second floor of candles and lanterns likely being lit up. As much as you wanted to believe this was a rare struck of luck the Chain some times had when traveling (in meeting some times strange, but helpful individuals), something in there shook you, and laughed in your face when you couldn't figure out where the possible dagger was coming from.

The thunder roars as lightning strikes the earth, joining the once peaceful breeze turned into a furious zephyr in it's howling, screaming melody as the first drops of water begin to fall, seems the grace period you and the Chain had was up.

"Old man?" "Grandsire?" Inquired both Twilight and Sky, as you all leave the final decision to them (an inevitability really, with a group this big and diverse). Time and First trade a look, seemingly having a silent conversation, before First nods lightly, sighing, Time nods in acquiesce, "We'll accept lodging until the storm is gone and not a moment less, everyone be on your guards. And anything suspicious or sign of the Shadow you tell one of us immediately, we mean it, do not engage or go off alone, this doesn't look like a Dungeon but we can quickly be proven wrong."

And that was that.

As one, you all walk towards the theater, the director seemed to be talking with someone at the door, a young woman with curly hair close to her chin. They wave her off as she runs back inside the building, tugging excitedly on the arm of another young lady, this one tall with hair a pale shade of blonde to the seats where you can briefly spot a side door who giggles at her excitement, the director gives them both a fond grin before turning to your group with a wink, "Nothing like seeing young people have fun mhm? So, I take it you made your choice."

First nods respectfully, voice steady and even, "Indeed, thank you very much for your hospitality."

The director rolls their eyes with a chuckle, ushering you all in, "Oh stop, you'll make me blush! It's nothing really, I have more than enough space and am always eager to please and entertain."

"It's still appreciated nonetheless."

They shake their head at Time, "So very polite, no need. Now! In you all go, I'll show you all to your rooms on the second floor and the communal area backstage."

You pause, just a step behind Sky, Wild and Hyrule, who scanned the warm lobby space with open interest, Spirit barely being able to hold Wind back from just running off as the director closes the doors behind Calamity, Legend and Warriors, their Hyrule's didn't have anything similar to theaters, at least not anymore on some cases not to mention many of the Links would have had time or interest to frequent these spaces anyway, so their curiosity was warranted. A glance from Time and First quickly stop any shenanigans at the director's back, "Has the communal area always existed?" You ask.

"Not really, most of these buildings don't have those. But I wanted the best for my actors you know? Some of them have nowhere to go, and letting such talent go to waste would be a shame. Hence why I had something of a substitute for it built in and rooms up above.", Shrugged Raven, going through the open doors on their left, "Comes in handy anyway when things like this happen, we have plenty of rooms for you all individually, so don't worry about sharing. Backstage and the communal area are just beyond the main treat of this place." There's a grin on their voice as they say so, and you quickly see why as your breath is briefly taken away.

The auditorium is beautiful, open and spacious with a grand stage where most of the lightning would be focused on, but generally bright enough as there are visitors as you spot a young man with red hair helping a blonde lady light the other lanterns. The curtains open with minimum scenery on the dark wood stage and the stands go from the very beginning of the auditorium, to the sides and second floor where two stairs covered by a dark red carpet lead up to the boxes', an iron chandelier hangs from the dark wooden rafters, casting light onto wooden beams and gray walls. Simple and solemn, but elegant enough to feel comfortable and homey rather than something more opulent or rigid, at least on any other occasion.

Raven's grin widens, seemingly satisfied at your reaction and what they seem to find on the faces of the Chain from open appreciation to curious interest, they stand in the road to the stands and take a bow, "Welcome to Astoria Theater, enjoy your stay! Once you've seen one of our performances you'll never want to leave!", They straighten up, something about their movement feels... Off, but you shrug it off as they nod to the red haired young man and lady sliding down the stairs, by the stairs you spot two side doors at the corners of the stage's stairs, the salt and pepper haired playwright seems more than pleased to themselves as they nod to each one, "Communal area and kitchen to the right, bathrooms and showers to the left. Feel free to help yourselves to the pantry, our home is your home." With a quick hop and sweep of their sleeve, they call the young red haired man over, "Edgar here will lead you to your rooms and if anything feel free to ask him, Anabella, Amelia, Byron or Priscilla, there's enough space so you all shouldn't need to bunk together." The newly named Edgar nods, a black cat comes hopping and balancing on the seats to settle on the theater's owners shoulders, earning itself an ear pinch before they move on, "All I really ask is that you keep away from the quarters of the crew and my own. Not many of us around today since most have their own places now, but just enough we can probably be nice enough hosts."

"Also keep away from the costumes and prop rooms and the stage", chimed in the other blonde lady, either Amelia, Anabella or Priscilla you guessed, "Byron is downright feral when someone messes with his hard work."

Edgar raised an eyebrow at her, "Downright, Anabella? You'd think he was raised by a pack of Wolfos if not by seeing him with that little village herbalist."

"I HEARD THAT!" Comes the yell from backstage, as a young man with brown hair sends a scatching glare from behind the curtain, the Chain as one jumps, and you thank your lucky stars for their restraint indoors even as you have to half remind yourself not to throw your dagger either. "Costume making with you people is maddening and you know it, no thanks to your stunts! And don't you bring Lynn into this you pompous pri-"

"Alright! Settled down you two!" Raven claps sharply with a stern look, Edgar sneers at presumably Byron while the later growls, they sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose before sending your group an apologetic, tired look you've seen on Time's or First's face many, many times over the course of this adventure, "Apologies about them, things can get hectic some times. Anyway, just don't go to those places uninvited and remember your end of the bargain." Brightening up, they grin, "Nothing like meals and a show during rainy days you know? It will be a nice distraction for us all I'd wager, we'll make sure to call you lot so you can take it in the stands."

"It's alright.", First relaxed, hand that had instinctually gone to the sword at his side falling limp, Time was the second to compose himself fully with a wry sigh, "Trust me, we understand pretty well."

"Thank you so much again for your hospitality." Sky spoke up, smiling warmly, Edgar seemed to blink a few times, Anabella almost dropped a candle she had in hand, while Raven simply smiled, "Don't mention it, really."

"We mean it, it's appreciated." Nodded Warriors, with Twilight right behind him.

They shrug, waving your group off. "It's not much at all, as long as we can tell stories we are satisfied. It's in the theater's and on the lobby's sign and all."

Edgar nods briefly, "All of us fell for the theater at some point due to that. It's only inevitable."

... For some reason, that makes you pause, that prickle of unease rearing it's head. You study them closely, but the director simply shrugs, sweeping sleeves flapping about as they shoo you group off. "Now off you go! You've had a long day, take your time, unwind, and we'll have the stage set properly tomorrow."

With that, you're all lead away. To the second floor and, true to Raven's word. There was an available room for everyone, all of them standard and pretty much the same with a single bed, desk with an unlit lantern, and a simple wooden wardrobe, after showing us all to our rooms, Edgar left swiftly, muttering something about 'needing to redo the scenery'. Tiredness you've barely registered crept onto the edges of your mind, you stifle a yawn and wave to your company, "I think that's my cue, I'm going to take a nice long nap for now."

"First sign of a bed and already trading us for it?", Teased Wild, making you poke his chest and flick a pointy ear, lips pursed so you won't smile at the little twitch, "Of course, just because I travel and adore you lads doesn't mean you're not exhausting to my sanity."

"Ouch." Mock hissed Spirit, Wind from his side hmphing, "I'll have you know we are a delight, thank you very much! If anything being around us is probably better for your health!"

You chuckle, ruffling Wind's hair and patting Spirit's head beneath his hat, ignoring both the indignant squawk and light bat like an annoyed cat, "I know, I know, don't take it personally. I'm really just tired."

"We know, it's been a long day and an even longer week," Sky smiled softly, giving you a gentle push onwards, before stifling a yawn, "Honestly I might follow your example."

"We meet later on for dinner?" Chimed in Wild, shifting in place, "I kind of want to check their pantry before anything else. See what we'll be working with."

Time nodded, addressing the Chain as one, "We'll meet up in the auditorium, you all get some rest until then. It will be a long stay so we may as well get used to this place."

"Don't give any trouble to our hosts, and if any of you notice something off come fetch me or Time." Came from First, you catch the tail end of agreement from the boys as you open and close your door, breathing in deeply.

You still can't push that feeling that something about this is too easy, or that the other shoe is going to drop. But faced with a warm bed and at least somewhere semi-secure from monsters after so long on the road, you can't bring yourself to dwell too deeply on in it, you set your bag on the wardrobe and atop a pile of wooly blankets. Picking one for your own use while you can, take of your boots and set them by the night stand, dim the lantern and then fall back onto the mattress, wrapping yourself comfortably and not forgetting to place the dagger beneath your pillow.

You fall quickly into a warm and dreamless sleep, unaware of a black cat with crimson eyes watching you from above, as the shadows shift unnaturally and the lantern almost goes out, before it slinks away into the shadows, slipping away unnoticed.

_______________________________________________

Long after night fell, dinner had been had along a relaxed retelling about the adventures of a young wooden puppet who became a human and all activity had ceased from most other guests and hosts alike. The darkness and shadows of the corridors shifted oddly, flickering as if someone had set a candle by them when all light have been either dimmed or blow out, they seethed and snapped and twisted as form was given to one of their own even as they hissed at the anomaly, wanting to be set to their natural, usually still and silent state again.

Sadly, they wouldn't be able to return to sleep just yet.

First came legs, then a torso and arms, neck and a head with short chin lenght hair, shades draped upon them in a shape like a tunic's and forming boots at their feet and red, red eyes, a shade bright like rubies found in the Era of Wild, bright even in the dark. Something snapped within the darkness, visibly shifted and cracked itself into place, and the figure stepped out, while once as obsidian as the shadows he was named from, color seemed to flood into the being as the remaining shades melted away, giving way to dark purple hair held back with a black headband, sickly pale skin from being unable to stay in the sunlight, and where there once was only the shape of eyes now there was a sclera.

There in the empty lobby stood a perfect copy of The Hero of Minish, the Shadow behind the Four Sword Wielder.

Shadow stretched, cracking his neck with a relieved sigh, "Now that is much more like it." His crimson eyes surveyed the room almost critically, narrowed and wary, he clicked his tongue with a sigh, wrinkling his nose, the only sound in a theater as quiet as a mausoleum, "Sheesh, no wonder Rainbow was on edge... This place is enough to give even me the creeps." And he had worked under Vaati, yikes. Shrugging, he went forward into the darkened auditorium, footsteps silent as the building, "Let's see what we can find, shall we?"

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

Humming, the masked figure grinned, putting quill to paper from a darkened spot in the balcony, the Director walked away from their room with a candle in hand and a case on the other heading down the stairs, a black cat with blood red eyes stared judgmentally at the masked one's glee, "There you are." They waved the cat off, it rolled it's eyes with a hiss, but melded into the shadows easily enough, the figure leaned comfortably against the balcony railing and got to writing, ink crimson and then back where the quill passed, "First thing most fairy tales and stories teach you: never wander off alone, good intentions or not."

Opening Act, Scene III End.

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VI)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,100

CW: MDI 18+, toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, bullying, co-dependancy issues, self harm, not beta read.

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my OC

A/N sorry its been so long! forgot wehat direction i was going in with this story so going off the few notes i had left about this chapter! might be a few changes ive made from the last few chapters, but hopefully it all makes sense! but this story is gonna get dark and sad!

Aemma had been pacing back and forth for the last hour, nerves clear on her face as her mother and brothers were set to arrive in only a days time.  She hadn’t spoken to her in what had felt like forever, and she had no idea on what too expect. She thought that perhaps she might have done something but thinking back on the countless letters she had written, she could not think of a single thing she could have possibly said. Perhaps taking Aemond’s side at Driftmark, or perhaps refusing to leave his side after the fact. 

She had made her complaint to Aemond, the morning after they had reconnected, he had simply laughed, “oh Aemma, do you really think your mother cares about you? She happily sent you of to wed me the second it was suggested.” He said as he brushed her hair for her, having dismissed her ladies so they could break their fast. “if she cared about you she would have demanded I got to Dragonstone, not you here, she simply wished to be rid of you.”

Aemma looked down, she refused to believe it, her mother had always preached how she was her favourite child, then again, after Driftmark her mother did just send her away, she would have visited her more or asked her to visit if it was true. “Really?” she asked tears in her eyes.

“oh of course” he smirked, “but do not worry dear, soon enough you shall be my wife and she will no longer have to even act as if she cared for you, and you will not have to care for her either.”

She shook her head, and looked up at him, meeting his smirk in the mirror “do you think she loves me still?”

“no” he replied instantly.

A tear fell from her eye “do you love me?” she near begged.

Aemond’s smirk widened, his eyes twinkling, “of course” she turned her head, and he instantly gripped her chin, “and you love me, don’t you?”

“no” she replied. His grip tightened slightly, “I do not know what it is to love Aemond, but perhaps…once we get to know each other more.”

He frowned. “We have known each other our who lives”

“Yes, but these past years we have been distant, I know nothing of you”.

“And whose fault is that” he said stepping away, “was it not for that bastard I would still have my eye! And you would love me!”

She stood up, following him, “how does-“he stopped her, turning around quickly to face her.                     

“Because it does!” he almost whined, “you were mine! And then you were handed to me on a silver platter and yet all you have done is whine about your mother and your stupid brothers!” he took a breath, allowing her an opportunity to speak.

“I begged to stay with you Aemond, I defended you and –“

“And you begged them to stay also!” she looked at him, she had never told him of the conversation with her mother.

“How do you know that?” she asked bewildered. “and what does that have to do with anything?”

“everything!” after what they did to me, to YOU! And you wanted them to stay” he shook his head, “I went to find you, I needed you and you were begging your mother to stay? Do you think I could forgive you?”

“Aemond-“ she was crying now.

“these past years I have grow into the man I knew you wanted, not the silly little boy you grew up with, but the man you need, my mother has been nothing but a mother to you, and yet you still crave that whore and those bastards”

“I’m sorry Aemond. “she said, reaching for his hands, “your right, I am so sorry, I just wanted my muna, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She caressed his hand, “but I didn’t want too lose you or her and yet I lost you both!” she whined, “I needed you too!” she cried, wrapping her arms around his waist.

She needed him. Aemond smiled, “goo. because I am all you will ever and have ever needed.” He said holding her to him, “your mother is here in formality over, and at the end of the week she will be nothing to you, I will be your everything, your husband, your protector, your Aemond.”

“And let me remind you sweet Aemma, that without me you would remain Lady strong, a princesses bastard. And yet you betrayed me, begged for our tormentors to stay and if that had happened do you think I would have been able to devote these past five years to becoming your protector, to become the man you desired?”

She shook her head.

“They were cruel to you, hated you. All because your mother favoured you, do you think they will have changed?”

She shook her head again, and started to think back, growing up all she had ever wanted was to marry Aemond, and have him be her protector and never have to see Jace and Luke again.

She had thought that after Driftmark she would never get that Aemond, he had changed the second that eye was taken from him. He became cold and cruel and there was even whispers he was mad.

“but-“she started to speak, a part of her felt like he had turned into them.

He had tormented her for years and now he seemed to be perfect for her. It didn’t make sense.

“But what?” he asked, suddenly moving closer to her.

“you have been cruel, ignoring me then you started to torment me, sending me the heads of Aemma’s roses, as if you were threatening me.”

He shook his head, “I don’t know what your talking about”

“yes you do!”

“no Aemma, your confused, I sent you Aemma’s roses, to show I was thinking of you , and I never cut there heads of” he laughed, “and I only ignored you as I felt so hurt by what you did”

“i- but you cut of-“ she shook her head, “I-I I’m so confused, Aemond I- perhaps I should ask Cassandra, she has a better memory than me –“

“no Aemma, your just misremembering, you’ve always had trouble with remembering things” he said, “and do you not trust me?” he said sounding sad.

she shook her head, “of course not- I, just I thought you hated me for whatever reason and now I must have thought your acts were of torment and not …love” she said unsure.

“it okay Aemma, I know you struggle and I know you have always had difficulties with things” he said softly, “I was hurt and scared you would hate me too, I should have been more upfront, it is all my fault” he said, pulling her into a hug, “I know you are sorry, and I am too”/

He wasn’t, he loved the look on her face when she opened the box of cut of Aemma’s rose heads, loved the way she was scared, but he also realised years of ignoring her had made him seem untrustworthy, and he feared he made a mistake, he had a new strategy to play. At first he wantec her to be scared and run to him for help, but it seems her ladies and beloved Cassandra had gotten in the way of that plan, and made him the villain.

He supposed he had to get them out of the way.

Since that conversation, Aemond had made sure she did not leave his side.

Saying how he missed her dearly, and realising how much he needed her and pushing her away had hurt him more than it hurt her.

She had felt so badly for him, and before he knew it they were back to their old habits, were she went he went, she would even ask him too choose all her clothes, even serve her dinner.

She forgot how simple life was with Aemond, how happy and easy he made her life.

And Aemond was loving it, he loved getting to control every detail about her, she would dress how he liked, believing it her choice to let him pick, she would follow him everywhere, meaning he no longer had to follow her.

The only problem was that her ladies maids were still in the way. They ere there when she woke, and dressed, giving question stares as he would enter her rooms, whispering in her ear about things Aemma would never reveal.

He wasn’t jealous just angry.

He had been hurt all those years ago and ignored her because he wanted to be better. Become the best possible Aemond, become her protector and a man who would never again loose his eyes to is silly little nephews, and someone who would never let them hurt Aemma again.

And it was blatantly obvious that his ignoring of her head made her annoyingly close to her little friends.

He had hidden letters from her mother the first year, then they came less and less, before stopping altogether. He would allow a few of Aemma’s letters to be sent, not before reading them himself. He wanted her too feel isolated, but that had failed, and now it would be too suspicious for Aemma to receive the letters her mother had sent over the years, especially as he had read them all and hated the love his sister had for her daughter, hated that no matter how hard he wanted to hide it, her mothers return would only pull them apart once more.

So he realised the game of isolation needed to change and to get ride of the Ladies he must earn their trust, so he wooed them, by sitting in at their gatherings and showing undivided devotion to Aemma, there was still the issue of Cassandra Baratheon. She despised him, and he here. She was brash and loud, and Aemma’s best friend. 

He wasn’t jealous, no, not at all. Not jealous of the way she effortless laughed at her jokes or talked to her without having the perplexed and wanted to please look in her eyes that’s she did with him.

He watched the bitterly as they chatted the day away. She seemed to light up around Cassandra, and he hated it.

“Are you nervous about you mother and brothers return?” Cassandra asked, sipping her tea.

“yes, especially my mother” she sighed, stirring her tea “I did receive a letter from my brothers this morning” she reviled, much to  Aemond’s surprise. He had ordered all letters addressed to Aemma be sent to him straight away, how this had escaped him – “I had waited in the ravenry for a reply for my letter, and one had just arrived when I got there.” She reviled, answering what Aemond was wondering.

“what did it say?” Cassandra and Aemond asked simultaneously.

“Luke and Jace were asking about how I am , and saying they were sorry if their actions in our youth  and wish for us to reconnect upon there return.” She replied.

“you will do no such thing” Aemond spoke, standing up.

“And why not?” Cassandra asked, clearly unhappy at Aemond.

“because of how they have always treated her!2

“oh please, they were children!” Cassandra spoke, now standing alongside Aemond, “ they have apologized and wish to know there sister, and from what Aemma has told me, I and my sisters have done far worse to each other than they did to her!”

Aemond scoffed, “please, they were bullies, they locked her in the black cells!”

“they- they what?” Cassandra asked, no looking towards Aemma.

“i- its true they did, but they have apologised incessantly since then.” Aemma said, trying to diffuse the situation, “they are my brothers, and they.. they said sorry”

“You still have nightmares Aemma” Aemond spoke, now moving back to his seat and taking her hands in his.

This perplexed Aemma she had never not once told Aemond of her dreams, especially of that night, he himself had always felt partly responsible for it, having taken so long to find her, and having left her alone that night. “what?” she asked, “I never told you about my dreams…”

Aemond flinched sightly, realising his mistake, and Cassandra herself took on an angry expression, “how do you know of those dreams Prince Aemond?” she asked, moving herself closer to Aemond and Aemma, as if to protect her.

“i- she is to be my wife, I only took a concern when the guards said she would often wake screaming.” He said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“but that still-“ Aemma started, slowly removing her hands from Aemond.

“don’t concern yourself too much Aemma I simply stood guard to ensure you did not try to harm  yourself.”

Aemma flinched, Aemond cant know about that, no one does. Not even her maids. She had always kept her arms covered, he cant know.

Her eyes betrayed her, showing a scared expression, an expression both Aemond and Cassandra took to be scared about hurting herself.

“I – I” she stuttered, “I don’t know what you-“

“don’t worry Aemma, nothing bad happened, and your brothers wont get anywhere near you” Aemond spoke.

Aemma nodded, trying to mask her own fear of Aemond potentially knowing her secret to make it look like she feared her brothers.

Her parents were set to arrive on the morrow, and All Aemma could do was twist and turn. Dreams had been plaguing her. Ever since the black cells she has been getting premonitions, dreams of what was to come, dreams that have come true.

She supposed she was lucky, Helenas dreams caused her to speak in riddles, some even called her mad. When in truth Aemma was the one who was mad. She scratched and bleed as she dreamed, tearing at the skin on her arm. Her hands felt like they were soaked in blood, her nails turned red, as she scratched and teared. She dreamt of herself, she was married with children, but one was dead. She killed him. She must have, blood was on her hands, on her dress her face. Her other children cowered in the corner, flinching away from her.

“a son for a son!” she woke up gasping, the words ringing in her head.

Her bed sheets were stained in her blood, her arms scarred. The wounds from her last dream only just having healed.

She couldn’t help it, it was if her only escaped from her dreams was to harm herself. Perhaps it had been the three years of isolation she had felt so alone, where the dreams controlled her. She would send days and days tuck in the loop. Until one day her mother wrote to her of needing alliances and how her and Alicent had chosen her ladies. Her ladies had saved her, Cassandra specifically. She would wake her up, help her dress, and for once Aemma had a reason to escape her dreams. But then Aemond’s neglect and ignorance of her had turned cruel, calling her “my lady strong”, a name he had only just stopped calling her.

But something haunted her as she paced around her chambers, Aemond’s torment had put a stop to her dreams, the dreams were there was no dancing dragons, or no blood-soaked hands and gowns. Instead the dreams were of dragon snapping dragons neck, storm soaked nights and screams. And then since this week her nightmares have been full of crying, begging and blood. And now this.

It seemed no matter what her life would be full of tears and screams, and death.

“Aemma.” Cassandra said, walking into her chambers, alongside the rest of her ladies, Cerci Lannister, Cerelle Costayne, Margaret Fossway and Rosia Tyrell.

She had not slept since being awoken from her dreams, she had bathed and dressed, applied ointment to her scares, and had proceeded to pace her rooms nonstop.

She was worried, her mother would be here soon, and she had no ideas what she would be like.

She knew nothing of her, and she feared her mother may no longer love her. And well she was nervous about her wedding, and the wedding night. Aemond and Alicent had told her about it in the past week, and she was scared. And she just needed her Muna.

“how are you feeling?” Cersi asked.

“I am nervous” she admitted.

“of course, you will be wed on the morrow, you are bound to be nervous” Margaret added.

“well i-“

“but think, you will get to marry someone who loves you!” Rosia gushed.

“yes you are so lucky!” Cerelle complained, she had received news yesterday of her father engaging her to some man who had been married twice before and she had never met.

“oh Cerelle, he’s old hell probably die before you can wed.” Aemma said nonchalantly, and Cassandra laughed as she watched Aemma gasp at her own words. “sorry, just today the first time I will see my mother and brothers in years. I’m nervous”

Cassandra grabbed her hand, caressing home gently, “it’ll be okay, I’m sure.” She then looked to Cerelle “ and Aemma’s right, he’s what eight and seventy, he could croak at nay moment!” they all laughed, and for the first time that day Aemma’s mind was finally taken of what was to come.

She stood in the courtyard wating for their arrival, alongside her stood alone, Alicent having to have leave only moments ago to take care of something. She had done all her wedding planning with Alicent, she had comforted her when she cried over her mothers lack of care over her wedding, and visiting her despite her countless letters over the years. But Alicent seemed nervous, as if she was waiting for something or scared of something, and even more so when she had to leave.

After a few moments a carriage finally arrived in the courtyard, and her mother was the first to step out.

She wanted to run to her, to hug her and tell her how she had missed her. But her dream, it rang in her head.

“A son for a son” that all she could hear, and a voice in her head told her it was her mother’s fault, that her mother would force her to kill her son. She didn’t want to think it, but her mothers face, her blood soaked hands and a headless child was all she could see.

She made her way slowly walking down the steps the greet them.

“muña, lēkia” she greeted, a smile gracing her face. “welcome home”

next part

Taglist (bold means could not tag)

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to be added to Taglist

[felice-jaganshi]

His Pet

Alastor X OC

Chapter 11

The next day, she woke up with a whine, “Thirsty…” She muttered, she felt so warm. Had she forgotten to turn on her ceiling fan?

“Here you are dear.” Her water bottle was handed to her off her bedside table. Her eyes snapped open at the voice, she leaned away to get a look at who the hell was in her bed! It was, of course, Alastor! He wore a sheepish look on his face and spoke softly, “Good morning, my dear. I apologize, but you refused to let go of me, and you were in such a terrible state. I understand if you feel the need to slap me.”

 

She blushed, taking a mental note without moving her eyes from his face that all her clothes were in place before accepting her water bottle from him and relaxing. 

“I don't think that's necessary…” She sat up and sipped on her water.

Alastor sat up as well, “Now, what do you remember from last night?”

She drank her entire water bottle before answering. “Well, I didn't even get to finish my drink before Dusty's boss came over to cause trouble… Husker got caught in his smoke and was out of it. Angel protected me, then I tried to protect him. Then… I don't remember much after that… I felt weird, everything was dizzy, and my eyes were too heavy to open. Then I remember smelling your scent and I felt safe. I guess I ended up in your arms? Then I woke up feeling thirsty.” She frowned, it sounded like she'd been drugged somehow.

 

Alastor's ears twitched in irritation from this, “I see… may I hold you a little while longer my darling?” 

She smiled, “ I'd love that.” She nuzzled into his chest, and he held her as well, running a hand up and down her back in a soothing motion.

“Husker should be punished for failing me.” He decided he'd bring it up to her, see if Angel was right about it upsetting her.

“What? But it's not his fault! It's my fault for getting in trouble. Please don't hurt him…” She whimpered and looked up at him with big sad puppy eyes. He groaned, Angel Dust had been right, curse him…

“Alright my dear, as a favor to you, I'll let him get by with just the scolding I gave him yesterday… maybe a little more scolding today.” She giggled at that at least.

 

“Hm, I need to get Angel a gift too. Since his desire to protect you was clearly stronger than Husker's, and I wish to reward good behavior.” He smirked, already having thought of the gift while she was sleeping.

“What are you gonna get him?” 

“A few days off from work.” Alastor chuckled.

“Oh? Are you gonna kill his boss? I'd love that. He scares me…”

He tisked at her, “Now now dear…” He began singing,

 

“Nothing's going to harm you,

Not while I'm around.

Demons are prowling everywhere, Nowadays,

I'll send them howling,

I don't care, I have my ways.

No one's going to hurt you,

No one will ever dare.

Others can desert you,

Not to worry, whistle,

I'll be there.

Demon's may charm you with a smile, for a while,

But in time…

Nothing can harm you,

Not while I'm around…”

 

He kissed the top of her head gently.

“Now, let's get on with our day, shall we? I want you to stay in the hotel while I attend to some errands.”

“Okay, I'll probably just write in my room or read some stories to Dusty and Husk while you're gone… I love you, Al.”

“I know you do.” He smiled fondly, then got up from her bed, offering a hand to help her out, before giving a half bow and disappearing into the shadows.

 

She got up and got ready for the day. Soon as her door shut, Angel's opened and he came out, “Hey! Z, how ya feeling? I'm so sorry about last night.” He approached her quickly looking apologetic.

She smiled and hugged him tight, “I'm okay Dusty. I know you didn't mean for that to happen. But if ya wanna make me breakfast to make up for it, I'd be really grateful.”

He hugged her tight, “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Can you and Husk spend the day with me? I wanna spend some time with both of you today. Oh, and I'm not allowed to leave the building for the day!”

He pulled back, “You okay with that?”

“Oh yeah, I definitely need an ‘at home’ day after last night.”

 

They made their way downstairs and Angel got to cooking, she watched him till Husker showed up. “Oh, there you are!” She hugged him tight and he patted her back gently.

“Hey, you okay?” He looked away from her, feeling awkward. 

“Yeah, I'm good, you okay? Al said he gave you a scolding. Don't worry though, he promised me he won't hurt you over this. Oh, He also said he's gonna give Dusty a reward for doing a good job too!”

Angel froze, “A WHAT?! From the radio demon?! Oh man, it's either gonna be awesome or terrifying.” He seemed worried.

 

Husker sighed, leaning against the counter. “Eh, don't be scared. You actually protected his new favorite pet, so it'll be something actually good. And you really did good yesterday. I hope you don't get messed up too bad by the jackass for this…”

 

The rest of the day was the trio spending time together and bonding.

Alastor came home a few hours later, seeing the trio on the couch in each other's laps, she was reading one of her stories to them. He approached them and smiled, “Well, this looks rather cozy.”

She stopped and looked up with a big grin herself, “Hey Al! Back from a big day? I hope that's not your blood on you.”

He laughed, “Hah! No my dear, but thank you for the concern. I was simply securing Angel's reward for protecting you yesterday.”

“My reward?” Angel looked up at him, “The hell kinda reward makes ya all bloody?!”

“You're getting at least two weeks off from work! Or however long it takes your boss to reform after completely being torn apart and fed to the crows.” He seemed so proud of himself. Angel felt all the color drain from his face.

“Y- you…”

“Ah not to worry, I never told him it had to do with you. This was personal.” His smile grew dark as the static around his voice increased on that last sentence. 

 

He then quickly changed back to cheery, “Welp! I think I shall retire to my room. Zariah, would you like to accompany me and read one of your stories to me as well?” He started walking off before she could answer, leaving a few drops of blood in the hall as he went. She immediately got up, giving Angel and Husk each a kiss on the cheek, before following after her master. “Later guys!”

[storiesforsomeone]

YOLT Ch.26 sneak preview 👀

In honour of #Merlin trending no.1 because Bradley James twirled a baseball bat, have a sneaky snippet of the next chapter of YOLT:

(Excerpt below the cut in case people want to avoid spoilers)

“Emrys.” She said it like a prayer, as the most sacred and beloved of truths.

There was a tremor of reaction through the crowd, like a string plucked, resonance rippling into the stillness in a cascade of magic and emotion and something deep and shared and wordless. Merlin felt it rise. 

Rise, as every single one of the countless people gathered clasped their hands in a similar fashion.

Rise, as they named him.

Rise, as all of them bowed.

“Why are they doing that?” Merlin asked his friends, hushed from the unnamable emotion that sang from all before him, the convergence of shared acknowledgement, the momentum of a single name resounding on the voices of hundreds. He didn’t understand.

“Why are they — let’s look at the last week, shall we?” Drea said. "You came out from twenty-one years of hiding to save a druid stranger from being beaten to death. You fought off over a hundred sorcerers singlehandedly without harming a single one of them. You then freed all those sorcerers from a terrorist trafficking ring, not with force, but by convincing them they had worth irrespective of the will of the tyrant who had been using them to line his pockets. Then, you literally set them free by removing their collars with magic that didn’t exist a few days ago, successfully led them out of a gun fight to a sanctuary where they would be safe, and did all this under a name that would make you all kinds of enemies and get you hunted for the rest of your life yet a name that you reclaimed anyway because to us it means hope. Do you not realise what this means to them? To all of us? Can’t you feel it?”

Feel it? Merlin was drowning in it.

All his life Merlin had hugged the shadows, avoiding attention, desperate to fade into the background, and now hundreds looked upon him with recognition that stretched back beyond living memory in a way Merlin was only beginning to fully understand, and there was nothing but acceptance, the powerful reciprocity of being seen, the feeling of being known.

“There’s no undoing what you did here tonight. Word will spread. Everyone will know.”

Mordred had warned him, but Merlin had only been thinking of Uther, Aredian, of all the people who would come after him.

He hadn’t actually stopped to think at all about the flip-side: that there were people who would hear his name and stand with him; that Merlin had allies out there as well as enemies; that coming out of hiding meant, maybe, Merlin and Arthur and his friends didn’t have to do all of this alone.

[leviathanverse]

Chapter 39: Victory

You ran through the building like a mad woman, searching for the Goretrapper hatchlings.

It was incredibly difficult when the entire HQ was half destroyed! You peered through any rooms, and checked in all the secret rooms.

You were about ready to give up, when you heard small warbles come from a wall next to you.

You followed the sound, realizing that it was in Yami's hallway. How had you never heard the warbles before? For 12 years?

You pushed that thought away and began to punch the wall the sounds came from the loudest. You didn't care if your fists bled.

Baby dragons were more important than a bleeding hand. You heard Zoha roar at the Titan Wing, which only motivated you to get the babies out as soon as possible.

Small bodies of black and red were in your vision. You saw a small cage, and baby Goretrappers inside them. Cramped.

The wall was big enough for the cage to be brought out. Getting to work, you grabbed the cage and hauled it out of the wall.

You were right. It was small and held three babies cramped together inside. Your blood boiled.

Thank goodness Zoha ate Yami for dinner. Bet she tasted horrible for him. Not that it mattered anyway.

You crouched down, and grabbed the handle of the cage. The babies shivered and made mews you knew meant that they were scared.

" Shshshsh~ It's okay... I mean no harm... I am going to take you to your mama, yeah?"

You opened the cage, and the babies immediately sprinted towards the window, jumping out.

You panicked and jumped out of the window after them, knowing that they were incapable of flying at such a young age.

You grabbed the hatchlings and turned your body. Your back to face the ground below you.

Thankfully, a bush cushioned your fall. You let the babies go, and got up. The hatchlings ran into the open and made small roars that got the Titan Wing Goretrapper to stop attacking and chasing Zoha.

" There... see? Mama is okay!"

The Goretrapper flew towards you and the hatchlings, stopping as it landed carefully. The Goretrapper made a low bellow, and nuzzled the Goretrapper hatchlings.

" See? We weren't the villains... Yami was."

Zoha landed behind you, making low growls and nuzzled you too. He pulled his head back and gagged.

You were concerned before Yami got spat out. A shadow casted over your face, and you turned you hand into a fist.

Oh boy! You were pissed. You walked up to her, and Zoha gagged again, hacking up her dagger.

" I always come b-"

You punched the shit out of Yami. Almost knocking her out. But you punched her so hard her jaw broke.

You grabbed her by her shirt, and held her in the air, one eye staring daggers at her. You brought your arm behind you, and made another fist.

You swung it at her again, and threw a mega punch at her nose. You let her go and brought out a hidden dagger.

" Let's give some seasoning for Zoha. See how he likes it, shall we?"

" You fucking bitch!"

You crouched down and grabbed her by her throat. You brought the dagger to her face and stabbed her eye.

Her screams were like music to your ears. Although, the entire crew and the other dragons found it rather gruesome and mortifying.

You pulled the weapon out and stabbed her in the chest and pulled it out. She screamed in pain, and you decided to be a little sick too.

" Who's the sick bastard now, Yami?"

" You asshole!"

" Say that to the dragon that is going to enjoy his lunch."

You got off of her and made a signal with your hand. Almost immediately, Zoha snarled and pounced on her.

He opened his jaws and bit her right in half. Blood squirted everywhere. Everyone was mortified, and you saw Aizetsu hold his paw in front of Zika's body.

Good thing too. Zika had a weak stomach when it came to blood and gore. You, however, found satisfaction in it.

Zoha finally ate the other half of her body, licking his lips while he turned to look at you. You nodded and turned to look at the Titan Wing Goretrapper.

" You are free. You all are."

The Goretrapper opened her mouth and picked her babies up. You got to see how she carried the babies.

It was like a mother crocodile carrying her newborn hatchlings. They had a similar behaviour when carrying hatchlings, you noted.

She made a chuff and took off, the entire pack of Goretrappers followed after her. You looked at the Poison Firefrost Dragons.

" I don't want to strip away your freedom. You can go back from where you came from."

The alpha looked at the others and looked up in the sky. They crouched and jumped in the air before flying into the horizon.

The other dragons followed them, creating a beautiful scene that reminded you of birds. It was beautiful.

You looked at everyone. Everyone except for Sakura. There was sadness in the air. As if they knew what had happened to your boss.

At least you won the battle for her. You had given it your all and made her sacrifice worth it.

You saw Zoha look confused as he looked for something. You knew that he was looking for Sakura.

You felt your heart break as you watched him look for her frantically. You felt tears fall down your cheeks, deciding to break the news.

" She's... not with us, Zoha... She's in a better place..."

You saw his ears lower as he whined. Their was an atmosphere full of grief and sadness. You were going to have a memorial like she had always wanted.

She was the best boss you could have never replaced. Poor Gill will be so sad to learn of her rider's death...

You had won the battle. Not just for yourself or the others. But for Sakura. Zoha lowered his head, nuzzling you.

The battle had been won, but at the cost of someone's life. Someone you had all loved dearly.

Previous <-•-> Next

[neodracunyan]

Chapter 1 - The Sleep Demon's First Mission (Prequel Arc - Part 2)

Location: Playcare - Playtime Co. - Downtown Creation City

Date: March 15, 1987

Time: 09:30 AM

No POV

09 Days Before the Hour of Despair

After CatNap have encountered Darku, the ruler of the Dark Zone and accepted his offer in working together with him, the purple feline has been keeping that meeting a secret until he was given an order from Darku. He has been keeping an eye on the Prototype and the other workers in the factory from finding out about his alliance with Darku, but the dark lord managed to cover it all up since he is a very powerful shadow demon lord after all.

So far, CatNap does his very best on his job as a caretaker at Home Sweet Home, even managed to be a bit more social with the kids and the other Smiling Critters, despite how some of the children are a bit afraid of CatNap, but it didn't matter to him after what he saw from the future timeline when he worked with the Prototype and continued his job as the caretaker until the end of shift.

But as CatNap was getting ready for bed, he soon found himself back in the Dark Zone and Darku appeared before CatNap as the purple feline knelled before Darku as the Dark Lord of the Dark Zone has a job for CatNap before it was time for the Hour of Despair to happen upon the world.

CatNap: My dark lord, I didn't expect to see you again.

Darku: Charmed. I have a job for you, Sleep Demon.

CatNap: What is my task, my dark lord.

Darku: Simple. Your job is to try to convince your friends to join our cause, so we can form yourself a team to plan our next move before we unleash, "The Hour of Despair" upon the world.

CatNap: Very well, my dark lord. However, it's going to be tough to convince my friends about joining us. What if the Prototype finds out about our plan? He could ruin everything once he learns what we are planning to do.

Darku: Do not worry, my feline friend. If it's going to be hard to convince your friends to join our cause, then I shall show your friends on what their future holds. As for the Prototype, I will make sure that mechanical heretic will not stand in our way of our ultimate goal. You have my trust, Sleep Demon.

CatNap: Thank you, my dark lord.

Darku: Now...who shall be the first one of your friends to join our cause?

CatNap: Hmmm....perhaps maybe the leader of the Smiling Critters himself could be the perfect candidate to show what his future may hold.

Darku: Very well. Let's go over to him and have a word with him, shall we?

CatNap: Yes...we shall...

So then, the two of them make their way over to DogDay's dorm room at Playcare, who is about to go to bed until he was plunged into darkness as he looked around the dark void to see who he's dealing with.

DogDay: Hello? Who's there? Come on out and show yourself!

CatNap: It's all good, CatNap. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Then CatNap revealed himself from the darkness as DogDay was surprised to see his own best friend as he immediately ran over to him and gave him a big hug, to which CatNap hugged his back as the feline remembered seeing what happened in that future when he joined forces with the Prototype.

DogDay: CatNap! What's going on here?!

CatNap: Calm down, DogDay. There's nothing to worry about. We're just hear to show you something important that you have to see.

DogDay: Wait? We?

???: That's right, DogDay.

Then without a doubt, Darku arrived next to CatNap as DogDay broke the hug and stepped away from the demon until Darku raised his hand to tell him that he's not going to harm him. 

Darku: Do not be alarmed, my canine friend. I am not the enemy here and neither is your friend here. I am here to show you something that will shock you to the core of your own future.

DogDay: My future?

Darku: Yes. A future of what will happen when CatNap made a deal with the mysterious entity known as the Prototype that brought out so much chaos and destruction to Playtime Co. and planned to betray CatNap after he gained his trust him as he was using him to get what he truly wants.

DogDay: What? What do you mean?

Darku: I'll show you.

Darku then used his dark powers to show DogDay what he was talking about when CatNap teamed up with the Prototype, which greatly shocked DogDay after witnessing the death of many people and children inside the factory before moving on to the death of his friends, the Smiling Critters including DogDay himself after seeing him locked up in a jail cell inside the Playhouse with his torso ripped apart from his body along with his arms strapped up to the ceiling.

Then upon meeting a man with an face that he can't see within the darkness equipped with a Grab-Pack, the soon to be dead DogDay from the future told the man about CatNap going rogue and killing all of the Smiling Critters, leaving him of what's left to the group. Then he started telling him to get out of Playcare while he still can before being devoured by the Mini Critters that nearly made DogDay throw up after seeing him getting eaten alive by the Mini versions of him and his friends before he broke free with the Mini Critters took over his body like a puppet and started chasing down the man through the Playhouse.

Lastly, Darku showed DogDay of what will happen to CatNap after he was defeated by the same man that took him down with a Super Charged Green Grab-Pack Hand as the Prototype's arm came down from the ceiling with CatNap begging for his master's forgiveness until the robotic arm stabbed him through the mouth, killing him instantly before bringing his now dead body to the ceiling.

DogDay never thought he had seen CatNap went through a path of villainy filled with so much hatred and anger before he met his death with the Prototype. He soon went into tears after he witnessed the horrible future he watched with his own two eyes as he hugged CatNap in a death grip, which he hugged back, not caring that DogDay's own tears got onto his fur.

CatNap: (Shushes DogDay) It's alright, DogDay. There's no need to worry. I am not going to take your legs and feed you to the Mini Critters. That will never happen between us and our friends.

Darku: Now do you see what happens in your own future.

DogDay: (Sniffles) Yes...now I understand what that future lies between me and my friends. Including CatNap. Whatever it is that you're offering. I'm willing to take that offer to myself and my friends.

Darku: Very well then. I shall grant your wish as the new member of the Dark Creatures with your new name as the Eclipse Hound. When the time comes for the Hour of Despair, you, CatNap and the rest of the Smiling Critters will be able to escape this place that is nothing more than a prison for experimenting on poor, innocent children.

DogDay: But...what if the Prototype...

CatNap: Don't worry, DogDay. Darku will take care of the Prototype whether or not he finds out about our plan for the Hour of Despair.

Darku: That's right. I always keep my promises. So, there is no need to worry about the Prototype ruining our master plan.

DogDay: I see. And what about our friends though? They might not believe us about you, Darku. They'll think we've both gone insane after being stuck here for so long since the Smiling Critters were created along with everything built here as our only home, Playcare.

Darku: Like I said, Eclipse Hound, there's nothing to worry about. I will have a word with your friends and that way they'll understand the truth that lies within their future and join our cause. Just think about letting out your frustrations and vengeance against the people that tormented you and used you for their own cruel and unusual experiments on you and your friends. You will become their greatest fear as they will meet the face of death as the Eclipse Hound, the grim reaper of the Dark Creatures.

DogDay actually smiled at the thought of getting back at the scientists and the other co-workers that treated him, CatNap and the other Smiling Critters horribly for their own amusement and to use them for their own experiments for further study, so that they can use it on the poor, innocent child that he and his friends watch over at Playcare. This is the kind of opportunity that he was given by the Dark Lord of the Dark Zone himself as he is so in on this mission as the Eclipse Hound. 

DogDay: I like the sound of that, my dark lord. I will be ready to strike fear in the hearts of our enemies once the Hour of Despair comes by.

Darku: Excellent. I am glad that you accepted my offer, Eclipse Hound. I promise you that you and your friends won't ever regret this. Now I am off to visit the rest of your friends in their dorm rooms and they will join us as well. I bid you two farewell and goodnight, Sleep Demon and Eclipse Hound. 

CatNap/DogDay: Goodnight, my lord.

With that, Darku left the room, leaving the two of them alone in DogDay's dorm room.

DogDay: Uh, CatNap?

CatNap: Yeah, buddy?

DogDay: I know this is a weird thing to ask, but...would you...sleep with me tonight. No homo.

CatNap: Why? Are you scared about losing someone like me after you saw what happen in that future that Darku showed us?

DogDay: Yeah...that's right.

CatNap: Sure buddy. I'll sleep with you tonight. No homo.

DogDay: Alright then. Also, I think it's best if you wake up early in the morning to get back to your dorm room before the Playtime Co. workers find out that you've been sleeping in my room.

CatNap: Good point, but I think Darku pretty much knows about that, and he can just teleport me back into my dorm room before it's time to get up and go back to work.

DogDay: Huh. That makes sense, I guess. Well, let's get some sleep. Tomorrow is another day.

CatNap: Alright then, good night. DogDay.

DogDay: Goodnight, CatNap.

So then, the two of them sleep in DogDay's bed, not making it weird like they're both gay because they both act like they're brothers and they're willing to protect each other as they both slept through the night while Darku began meeting every other member of the Smiling Critters.

It didn't take too long for Darku to show the rest of the Smiling Critters of the same kind of future that would happen to them if CatNap joined forces with the Prototype like how PickyPiggy ate Bubba Bubbaphant, KickinChicken and CraftyCorn, or when Hoppy Hopscotch made too many jumps to get to the moon and back as she overshot her jump that led to her demise by falling to her death or when CraftyCorn ran out of something to draw on from crayons to paint to colored pencils that resulted in her going criminally insane and used her own blood to paint before she passed out from blood loss and became PickyPiggy's next meal.

After what Darku showed them their future, they all accepted his offer to join the group for the Hour of Despair to achieve their freedom and earned their own titles as the Dark Creatures.

Bubba Bubbaphant aka Dr. Damage.

KickinChicken aka KickinHawk.

CraftyCorn aka BloodyCorn.

Bobby Bearhug aka Death Bear.

Hoppy Hopscotch aka Killer Bunny.

PickyPiggy aka The Butcher.

With all of the Smiling Critters joined together as the Dark Creatures, they are all preparing for the Hour of Despair to happen upon the toy factory that they've been trapped in and once the time has come, things will be different once the Prototype and the many people that worked at Playtime Co. will face their bloody vengeance.

And after they gotten their revenge on the people that tortured them for their own experimentations, they have a little surprise for them once they rule the entire factory with an iron fist.

However, even though the Dark Creatures are planning to take over the factory and eventually the entire world, one toy that's been around the toy factory for a really long time has overheard their plan to take over the factory with the help of a dark entity from the Dark Zone and the toy decided to secretly formed an alliance with the other toys to take down the Dark Creatures before it's too late.

???: This is bad. I have to do something about this before it's too late. I have to convince the other toys to form an alliance to stop them from taking over the world. But...if they succeeded their mission...it shouldn't be too hard to form a resistance team to go up against the Dark Creatures. (Sighs) If only there's one person with a special gift that can help us defeat the Dark Creatures whether or not they managed to take over the factory and possible...the entire world...

But there is one person that will be Earth's last hope, and that person is a young boy, who is one of Playcare's children with a strange birthmark on his right hand as he is about to get sent to another orphanage first thing tomorrow morning, not knowing what he is about to witness the bloody carnage once the Hour of Despair has arrived upon Playtime Co.

And his name is...

Y/n L/n (Kenneth Parker)

END OF CHAPTER 1

TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 2

[straightlightyagami]

uhh poasting first chapter of the death note fic here I guess? (next chapter)

I have never written fanfiction before, but I wrote this by popular demand (aka 2 mutuals). I have basically not written any fiction in years, and I’ve never shared any of my fiction writing. Most of my writing experience is mathematical proofs, tumblr posts, and academic essays. I have no idea what I am doing, especially in terms of writing style. kind of scared of poasting it. Please be niceys but also I am open to feedback. 

This fic is basically just "Light is a leftist au." It will obviously contain political content. it's a "modern au" (as in, set in the 2020s) for technology reasons. Also somewhat ooc but on purpose (Light is a bit more… compassionate and social justice-oriented. But he is still his murder-y self). Light is trans bc trans rights and wrongs and it makes sense for some things but I'm not sure how major it will be in the story (lmk if you have a preference for how you want it to be treated). If I continue this, I am planning to focus more on all of the murder and politics and such, there will most likely be no ships or romantic content. I have a rough idea of where I want it to go, but please share any ideas you have, or what sort of stuff you'd be interested to see, etc.

Light Yagami was more than just what one would call a straight-A student. A better description would perhaps be a precocious child, a genius, a prodigy, any number of synonyms. He had been told as much ever since he could remember, reinforcing what he had always known to be true, that him being different from others was simply a matter of superiority. Any way he was different, then, must have been simply confirmation of the fact.

Bored out of his mind in classes he could have aced five years earlier, most of the contents of which he could recite if shaken awake at three in the morning, he often found his gaze drifting outside, to the world beyond the windows. Days blending together, seasons drifting by before his eyes, flowers blooming and wilting, a backdrop to his internal monologue. And so, on that afternoon in late November, an afternoon that could have been any other, Light tuned out the droning of the teacher and the gossiping of his classmates and absently surveyed the school courtyard, thinking about everything and also nothing in particular. Everything in the world was so wrong. There was nothing he could do about it. He was getting hungry. Class would be over in five minutes.

There was nothing to look at in the courtyard, really. All of the students were in class and it was deserted, save for the occasional bird perched on a bush. It was in this atmosphere of almost painful mundanity that a strange view caught his sight, of some kind of object falling through the boundary of the golden sunlight above and the shadow of the building and landing in the grass. Squinting, he saw it was a book. Could someone have dropped it from a window? But there was no way for it to have followed that trajectory then… Perhaps it fell from an airplane?

***

The school day was over, and he turned to head home when he noticed the book lying in the grass like a black shadow. He felt a strange relief at the fact that nobody had taken it, and headed to pick it up.

“Death Note? The human whose name is written in this note shall die…”

Like one of those chain letters that claim to foretell your death. A stupid prank, that’s all it was. Too stupid for a smart boy like him. But a free notebook is a free notebook. Besides the ominous instructions, all the pages were blank. Surely its owner saw no value in it if they threw it out. What harm could it do to take it, if no one would reclaim it anyway? He tucked it into his bag.

After saying goodbye to a few classmates, he walked unhurriedly from his school to the train station, watching cars pass below the overpass and shielding his eyes from the sunshine of late autumn, the kind that shines bright but does not warm much. He entertained himself by thinking, if such a book really was real and he could kill anyone with it, what would he do? Most people would probably judge him for even thinking about it, but they didn’t need to know. A thought experiment never hurt anyone.

Everything he had been thinking for years, how the greed of those in power leads to the deaths of thousands of innocents. War, poverty, violent crime… These problems could be eradicated if he could strike fear into the hearts of the right people. A power like that could even be used to influence government policy, to create a more just society. Perhaps the people would even take it as a signal that a higher power wants them to free themselves of their capitalist overlords, maybe then people would be brave enough to resist injustice of their own accord. It was a nice vision, but not a realistic one. There was no way to fix the world so easily.

Sighing, he opened the door of his house, greeted his mother, and grabbed a bag of potato chips before ascending the stairs to his room. He set his school bag on the floor beside his desk and stood by the window as he ate his chips. Then he sat at his desk and took the mystery notebook out, rereading the instructions once again. A name and face and the victim is dead? Clearly, it was a fake and he was the idiot to get duped into picking it up. He lay down on his bed to rest for a bit before going to evening prep classes.

But… What if it was real? A curious person by nature, Light knew he would not be able to stop thinking about it until he tested it and confirmed it could not kill anyone. It could not possibly work, so it would not hurt to try.

Feeling he had lost to whoever the prankster was, he sat down at his desk again and took out a pen. The main criteria for whoever he tested it on were that it was someone deserving of death, in case it actually worked, and that he would be able to find out right away if it worked. He turned on the news and saw that there was a live broadcast from an active hostage situation where a man who was a known criminal was holding some kids at gunpoint in a school. This was the perfect test subject. If the notebook worked, he would save eight people (of course, the suspect could have been identified incorrectly, but it was out of his control to do better than that). If it didn’t… Well, that was the expected outcome. Kurou Otoharada, read the name next to the picture of the suspect on the screen. He wrote it down, visualizing the man’s face. Then, he sat back and waited.

Forty seconds passed. Nothing happened. The notebook’s power was not real, and his boredom and dissatisfaction with the state of the world were leading him to indulge in some messed-up prank. He berated himself for allowing himself to develop such a propensity for magical thinking.

But as he stood to turn off the television and get ready to go to class, something appeared to happen on screen. The hostages were coming out. The newscaster was reporting that the criminal had collapsed dead. 

He killed a person. He saved eight. It must have been a coincidence. He would have to test it again, just to be sure. With a specified cause of death this time.

***

It worked! There was certainly no doubt now. The probability that this man had been hit by a truck, as he had specified in the Death Note, by sheer coincidence was near zero. Again, he felt a strange relief. So he hadn’t made a mockery of his own intelligence by trying it (there was no harm in trying). But he was now a murderer. He leaned against the wall and threw up. 

The full gravity of what he had done only hit him then. He had not killed out of malice, but that changed nothing. Intention did not matter.

The reflections of the city in the rain mixed into his tears until all he could see was shining light. Somehow, he found his way back home. He took a minute to compose himself, then entered, gave his practice test scores into his mother’s outstretched hands, and calmly excused himself, saying he was tired and wanted to sleep early.

***

He wrapped the blankets around himself and burrowed his face into the pillow to stifle his sobs. There was no doubt in his mind that what he had done was right. No doubt that continuing to do it would be the only right thing to do. Could he do it? It would be impossible to kill and remain the same. Doing the right thing would mean sacrificing parts of himself. 

On the other hand, what was the other option? Doing anything else would be turning his back on pain and suffering that he was fully capable of preventing. He would be complicit in the evils he did not prevent because of his own selfish motives. Besides, who knew where the notebook came from? For all he knew, it could belong to some otherworldly creature that would appear at any moment and kill him for using a power that did not belong to him. He could not afford to waste time moping around.

[wolint]

MY SECRET PLACE!

MY SECRET PLACE

Psalm 91:1

 

Everyone has a secret place, a place to stash those self-indulgent snacks, precious trinkets, money, and anything else we don’t want anyone else to see or take. We must also learn to see God as our secret place, and we do natural things and places. A Secret place, dwelling place, or hidden place, and whatever else you want to call it is the image of security, safety, protection and covering.

To dwell in the secret place of the Most High is to live within the divine presence of the Lord, sheltering from all the arrows and darts that life throws at us constantly. We can take this as one of the most comforting chapters of the bible. The Lord is simultaneously our secret place and hiding place, and according to Psalm 32:7, nothing can attack, harm, or scare us when we “hide in our secret place.”

This is a two-fold security pass, first, we hide in God’s presence which happens to be a secret place that only us and the Lord knows of, and this should be very comforting for us. In this place, we experience God’s power of protection and comfort from life storms, while wrapped in His overflowing and excessive love.

Anyone who enters legitimately into the secret place of the Most High, shall be covered with the cloud of God's glory. That is, the protection of the all-sufficient God. This was initially only the privilege of the high priest, under the law of the Old Testament, but under the new covenant, every believer in Christ has the boldness to enter the holies by the blood of Jesus and are delivered from every evil.

The secret place, the hiding place, or the dwelling place, shelter and divine presence of God is not an occasional, once-a-while, often or sometimes affair. It’s a way of life! Always! We never leave the secret place, it’s one of spiritual life’s constants. It is a place that we consciously, consistently, and continuously remain in. For when the day of adversity comes, you will be glad you’re hidden in the Lord according to Psalm 27:5: because the secret place is where we find peace, provision, direction, vision, strength, confidence, perspective and overcome all things. It describes the confidence that believers may have while going through all kinds of dangers and challenges.

When we are in the secret place, the storms don’t have power over us, attacks don’t defeat us, barriers don’t stop us, sickness doesn’t weaken us and lack doesn’t threaten us because the Lord is a secure defence: a shelter, shadow, refuge, and fortress for those who hide in Him.

In this secret place, God gives us an eternal view of our lives that keeps us steady in an unstable and unpredictable world, see Psalm 17:8 and John 16:33. Things like plagues, the likes that Egypt experienced in Genesis 12:17 and what the world faced with Covid-19 would not shake us. As it happened then, the faithful are always safe in the secret place in times of God’s judgment.

The secret place is the only place to run to and remain in to preserve life, destiny, and eternity according to psalm 71:3.

Battles are won in the secret place, secrets revealed, strategies and battle plans obtained, promotions for the next level and seasons are received and secured, in most cases, by force according to Matthew 11:12.

The secret place and the presence of God is the place of encounter, the place of transformation and change.

The world calls anyone who hides a coward but with God, hiding in Him is what makes us giant slayers, find your secret place in the Lord, and remain hidden in Him.

PRAYER: Father, help me to crave solitude in you and always appreciate my spiritual secret place in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Shalom

WOMEN OF LIGHT INT PRAYER MIN.

[an-ishgardian-tale]

From the Journal of Viviane Jienuex

This moon has gone by as swiftly as many others. It is hard to believe in twenty five days Clement and I will be together for a full cycle, and I love him even more than I did then. It grows by the day and for both of my dear hearts. While I would survive as I always did if Nymeia hadn't smiled upon us the way that she had, I am beyond the stars that she has let us have this together.

Nearly a sennight ago I sang my last set until well into next spring, if I chose to return to the stage. There is a part of me that wishes to do as Cael has done and open my own place but with the Bakery now ready and our impending journey to Corethas it is something to think of for the future. As for now I just wish to go home with my loves and begin a new chapter. It is exciting to wonder what will come next. I often dream of the adventures we could have together and the snowballs I can throw at an unsuspecting arse or two. The delight I feel at the thought makes the heat rise in my cheeks. I appreciate both of them so fully and love them each in their own but intense way.

Tonight is a quiet night Clement has to leave early for business in Corethas and went to his rest as soon as the sun set while Kovalt had an over night duty. I have been sitting in the yard, embracing the chill of late autumn and taking in the scents of life and decay while I write down my thoughts. I love the feeling of the wind blowing through my hair, pulling apart the waves that my curls left behind when I cut it short. Sometimes they tickle my face still but mostly it is playful wave like a ribbon hangs loose from my head.

I feel so free like this, I feel like me. There is still things to tackle and memories to but to rest but I have come a long way from the drunk that read tarot and lamented in songs about what a failure she was. My scars are no longer hidden behind ridiculous tattoos and my face is no longer made up to look like a doll's, the pressing need to have my makeup on to impress others gone with those past habits.

The is but one thing that remains, and that is my Stage Name. I plan to think about that along with what to do with the former Veil once we get home to Corethas. I do hope Clement's sister is not giving him trouble about our engagement. I fathom it is quite difficult to accept a strange woman moving into your family home. I know I would be beside myself if one had moved into Jienuex Manor. I would likely have brooded for moons over it really.

I still worry about Clement, while his dual aether does not harm him from what I can tell with my mediocre talents I still have concerns as to what is on the other side. I've thought to send Rune to meet him while he is in Corethas but I feel that would be terribly uncouth of me to do that without his consent. For now I shall simply sit patiently and wait. Perhaps I should make an amulet like Dimitri did for Laurent and hide it in hid pocket as an extra bit of luck. It has been ages since I wove a spell myself. I should practice that and I should start sparring again before we leave for Corethas now that I think of it. Those lands are often fighting lands as it is the spirit of its people and I had gone soft these years in Gridania.

I shall go to the Cottage soon to cut the next batch of fresh mint for my tea, I will pick up my fighting scythe then and find one of those training dummies nearby. I have never told my loves I can fight, nor have I asked if they can. I have only assumed with their backgrounds that they can. They are still such of mystery themselves but none of us pry into each other's business. Perhaps one day I will find out more but for now I am content to simply love them for who they are. The shadows of days gone by can wait.

It is rather nice to be on vacation from performing. I cannot keep my mind off of filling the house and their stomachs with the joys of Starlight. It too is a first this year. Our first Starlight together as a trio. Secretly I hope we make it Corethas by then. It has been so long since I have celebrated Starlight in actual snow and not the magical kind the Thaumaturges make each year for the celebrations.

Blessings over you dear journal as you keep my thoughts safe.

~V.S.J

[cillspropertea]

Flipped

Chapter 10: Tin cans 

The reader is Aberama Gold’s eldest daughter, Esmeralda Gold in this fic.

 Warnings: mentions of war and death.

 This fic might have dark themes which may irritate or offend some readers. But if you’ve seen Peaky Blinders and are familiar with Thomas Shelby, you’ll be okay.   The story, plot, character histories and back stories might not be relevant to the original “Peaky Blinders” . Warnings will change per chapter. This is my first fic. Hope you all like it. English is not my first language.

 Do not hesitate to comment, reblog and engage. It works as fuel for my writing. 😉💙💙

 Synopsis: Your father’s one mistake shall alter your life’s direction forever.

  Word count: 3118

Earlier that evening…

    The drive back from the funeral had been awkwardly silent. After getting out of the car Thomas had stomped off to his office after ordering Frances not to disturb him, loud enough for Esmeralda’s ears too. ‘As if I’m dying for his company…’ she scoffed while passing by his office door which he had loudly shut just then, she noticed movement in the room right next to it. The door next to the office was slightly ajar and she could swear she had seen a shadow move in there. Feeling brave for no certain reason, and irritated for one very obvious one, she kicked the door open loudly. The now opened door revealed a young man with a moustache in what seemed like cloths for a cook. “What are you doing here?” She had asked, her words firm and cautious. “Good evening miss…. I was just … um leaving…” the guy looked out of sorts, stuttering and trying to walk past her as soon as possible, but Esmeralda stood her ground and did not move. “I asked you a question. Who are you and what are you doing here?” she stared at him. He looked down and then suddenly, as if looking at the cloths had helped him remember, he had answered, “I work in the kitchens Ma’am. I was just about to leave…” and before Esmeralda could further interrogate him he was gone. She looked at Thomas’s door right next to her. Something did not feel right to her. The way this man was in this room. But maybe she was overthinking. She wanted to share this incident with someone as she knew there were threats to this family right now. But the only responsible person in the house right now, was being a prick and she had no intentions of making it worse for herself, so she had made a mental note of telling Polly about this, first thing in the morning, when she returned.

    She entered her room and decided to change out of the black dress as it still smelled like ash. She was just in the process of unzipping it when a hand clasped around her neck while a hand covered her mouth. Someone had grabbed her from behind. She struggled to break free but the person was   too danm strong. With their mouth right next to her ear they whispered, “I just need to talk signorina. It is important. I swear, I mean no harm to you.” Esmeralda was anything but calm, she knew she had to scream, just once and someone would come to her rescue. When the guy noticed she was still not calming down he said, “It is about your father Aberama Gold.” Her eyes widened but she stopped struggling. Slowly he removed his hold from her form and took three steps back. Turning she stared at him. “Speak!” he gulped.

    In hurried speech and a thick Italian accent, the man, whose name was Antonio, explained how he was a relative of the Changretta’s, the Italian family whose man, Vicente Changretta, was killed by the Shelby’s because of his involvement in Thomas’s wife’s murder. Luca Changretta, his eldest son, who had recently returned to the city, had now served a black hand to the Shelby’s to settle the vengeance, hence the vendetta. “And what does Aberama Gold has to do with all this?” Esmeralda asked, still on guard as Antonio was very slyly blocking the door, he talked while resting his back on it. “Luca believes in that saying, it goes something like… keeping the enemy of the enemy closer or something…” Esmeralda still couldn’t understand so he explained further, “Your father seeks revenge from the Shelby’s”. “Revenge for what?” she asked, “For humiliating him, for taking away his daughter…” Esmeralda rolled her eyes as she started rubbing her temple agitatedly. “We were eventually going to involve you as your father knew how easily you could get us the info…” she cut him off, “Stop calling him my father!” she gritted. Antonio smiled, and in that moment Esmeralda knew his smile would lace her worst nightmares. There was something very… menacing about it, about him. “He did say you would be angry with him.” This infuriated her more. How convenient for him to remember he has a daughter when he needs a spy to accomplish his vengeance and feed his ego. ‘How can he still talk about me like that? Had he completely forgotten what he has done to me? Or am I so conveniently available to him that he thinks I’ll simply answer to his commands like always?’

    “What is the purpose of you being in my room right now? And I want a straightforward answer!” she made sure Antonio knew she was not joking. He took a deep breath, “We need you to help us with the vendetta.”

    “And what makes you think I’ll do that?” she asked, unblinking. “Vengeance of course. You see Miss Esmeralda, we know everything that transpired between your family and the Shelby’s. Don’t you want Mr. Shelby punished? Don’t you want him to feel the pain and anguish you have felt because of his actions? Surely you would want to see the man behind your misery and torment to suffer wouldn’t you?” She blinked, coercing him to talk further. “Your father is helping Luca with the weapons and men and in return, he only asks to be one of the audience when the Shelbys are killed.” “So you mean this isn’t just about Thomas?” she asked, a little alert now. “No, one by one, each and every one of the Shelbys will be killed. Thomas will be last of course, first we will kill his kin, his strength. His brothers and sisters, his uncles and that Aunt of his, Aunt Polly right? Yeah…”

    “I do not want to be involved in any of this…” He did not let her complete her sentence, “You don’t have to answer straight away… You have until tomorrow to answer me.” He said cocking his head. “And what makes you think I won’t simply go running downstairs to Mr. Shelby and tell him about you and the plan eh?” Esmeralda breathed. “Vengeance signorina vengeance… I see it burning in your eyes right now…” he said before closing the door behind him.

 (At night, the same day, in the kitchen…)

“…I want revenge on Thomas Shelby…” Antonio shook his head, “I knew it… I fucking knew it… Boss will be so danm happy to hear that!” Esmeralda put a finger up, “But I have one condition.”

    “And what is that signorina?” he asked, all humor gone now. “When the time comes, I want to be the one who pulls the trigger.” Her voice strong and unwavering. “You’d hate to hear it but once again I cannot help but think of the resemblance between you and your father…”she raised her brow, “He wanted to off Pollyanna Gray too. Said he had some unfinished business regarding an old lover or something…” she simply looked down, “I don’t care about anything else, if I get to kill Thomas with my own hands, you’ve got yourself a deal.” Esmeralda said rubbing her pointed shoe in a circle on the floor. “It’ll take some convincing, but I’m sure Luca will understand…” He smirked.

 Thomas Shelby

    It had been a week to the funeral. Esme was still at her mother’s as Thomas stood in his office. Arthur, Ada, Polly and Polly’s son Michael sat in the chairs adjacent to his table as heavy, whip like bullet shots could be heard, one after the other in the background. “The problem is that we cannot get a hold of their boss Luca!” (Another shot)

    “He’s gone underground Tommy. We’ve searched everywhere, used every connection…” Arthur explained. (A shot again) “What about the tip we got from Alfie’s men? About him being in Liverpool?” Arthur shook his head, “He was there, but somehow got to know about us at the last moment.” (Another shot) “Fuck! Fucking hell!” Tommy smacked the wooden table before slumping on his chair and lighting a cigarette.

    “But how could he know? We only discussed it here?” Polly questioned, talking more to herself than anyone else. “That is what I’ve been thinking…” (One more shot) Tommy said looking at the ceiling. Losing a breath he continued. “Ada, I want you, Michael, Linda, Finn and Charles along with the kids to move in to the safe-house in the countryside until this is over…” Ada interrupted him, “But what about the business?” “And the legitimate dealings?” Michael agreed with Ada and further added, “I swear Tommy this will cost us too much…” “I cannot loose anyone else Michael?” Tommy shouted, “The family needs to be safe… no matter what the cost!” (Another shot) Tommy’s stern voice softened, “Until the vendetta is over, all the business will be done over the phone with secured lines. It’s already been taken care of in the safe-house.” All of them nodded and the meeting was dismissed. Thomas stood up and watched outside the big window behind him. Esmeralda was trying to shoot empty tin cans as Curly assisted her. She had managed to shoot all of them down but was struggling to target one last one, right in the middle of the table.

    Everyone left except Polly, “And what about her?” She asked. “She can go with them if she wants, there is no threat to her as I assume she isn’t family but by all means…” (Another loud shot) The bullet shots had started to give Tommy a headache. “What exactly is she doing?” He turned, taking his glasses off. “Don’t know. She just asked for a gun and bullets from me a few days back. Maybe she’s imagining people she hates while doing it. Said she’s practicing her shooting skills for something. I seriously did not interrogate too much. If this helps her get in terms with her… issues, then so be it…” clearly she was telling this to Tom so he wouldn’t disturb her or disrupt her therapeutic gun shooting sessions either. “I worry about her you know…” she stood up and continued, casually observing the book collections on the shelves, “And I was thinking…”. “Thinking what Pol?” Thomas asked as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. It was quite early for drinking but not for the Shelby’s of course. “I know she is older than him and all but… I was thinking of talking to Michael about her…” Thomas’s grip on his glass wavered as he dropped it on the floor. “What did you just say?” he asked. Polly frowned at the anger in Thomas’s voice. “You know, get her married to Michael. I already consider her my daughter and obviously she won’t always be living like this. She needs her own family, her own setup. Hopefully that’ll help her forget about all that has happened with her…”

    “Really Pol? Really? You want to play match-maker, right in the middle of a fucking vendetta?” Thomas said irritated. “What are you getting so upset about? It’s just a thought and I …” He cut her off, “There is always a time for every discussion Pol… not right now… Just please don’t fuck with my head right now okay?” she held her palms up “Okay, alright… I’m leaving…” She left as Tommy looked at the broken glass on the floor. Closing his eyes he lit a cigarette and walked towards the window again. The girl had just turned in time to catch him watching her. She loading her gun without looking away from his face and this time when she shot the gun, it hit right on target. Thomas chuckled and got back to work.

----

    It had been three weeks since the funeral and three weeks since Esmeralda had agreed to work for the Changrettas. Most of the family had left to live in some countryside house, the whereabouts of which were kept confidential, even from her. Aunt Polly had asked her to leave with them too. “Would I be able to shoot with my gun there?” she’d asked. “No, it is a hiding place Esmeralda, the shooting would give it away…” Polly had answered. “So it’s settled then, I’m not going anywhere.”

    Since then it had only been Arthur, Polly and Tommy in the Arrow house. Esmeralda was keeping watch on everybody. Where they went, what their plans were for the next day. The phones were tapped and a woman named Maggie from the exchange made sure Tommy knew about every phone call that was made from the house. So Esmeralda would have to go down in the basement every night at midnight to feed the acquired information to Antonio, who then sent the written details and info out with the butcher boy every early morning.

    Polly had been spending all of her spare time with Esmeralda. She would talk about old stories and ancient legends, sometimes about her own family. She told her about the war, how when all the men had gone, the women had taken charge and she had handled all the business herself. “We are capable of much more than we are forced to believe my dear…” she said puffing a cigarette while you sipped your evening tea. “What was it like? Being in charge…” she asked.

    “Being the boss you mean?... hmm” she smiled, “Scary at first, difficult to the least but liberating in the end…” That made Esmeralda smile too. Polly loved it when she was able to make her smile. She tried to do it as often as possible. Unfortunately she only succeeded half of the times. “And the men? Did they feel more masculine and free after the war too?” Polly sighed at this question.

    “Nope. It was the opposite really. We sent men there, but got half dead creatures who had been robbed of emotions and all sense of love and sensibility.” “Violence changes a person. It’s understandable.” Esmeralda nodded, “No” Polly said sternly, “Death is what affected them there. The fact that the person you’re having your piss like beer with right now, could be heaving their last breath tomorrow with their guts hanging out did it too…” Polly realized her tone had become too harsh so she took in a deep breath and looked away. “So that is why Thom…. The boys are the way they are? Because of the war?” she concentrated on the lemon cake in her plate, slowly grating it with her fork. “Arthur was always hot tempered. The war did nothing to control it that’s for sure. And John well, he sort of nurtured his experience into improving himself. It had turned him into a softy actually. I can’t believe he isn’t there anymore.” Polly’s eyes watered, “He truly loved his brothers, looked up to them, especially Tommy. Always Tommy. Their father was never present in their lives anyway so subconsciously John did respect Tommy as the Man of the house, we all did… do” Esmeralda put a hand on her shoulder, “I truly didn’t mean to upset you Polly. I’m sorry” Polly sniffled, “Its jus that it hasn’t been that long and…” She looked up trying to control her emotions, “We knew this business would have consequences. We always knew that. But Tommy I feel has forgotten we all are mortals with limitations. At least we are if he has promoted himself to be a God!” she gritted.

    “The war affected him the most, he was never like this. Never so dead, so … numb.” Polly took a sip of her tea and continued. “He used to laugh. Truly laugh!” a smile came to her lips, “The first time I saw him crack was when Greta had died.” Esmeralda’s eyes shot up. “Who is Greta?” she asked, still trying to keep her voice as normal as possible. She didn’t want to seem too interested, even though she was bubbling with curiosity. “She was his first love. We actually thought she was the one for him. She gave him a lot of tough time but then eventually she did fall for him too. They wanted to get married but right before the war she had gotten sick and died of consumption.”

    “The war solidified his grief and his heart. He truly became emotionless after it. But when Grace, his wife, came into his life, she thawed his iced heart a little. I did not like her one bit, but the way Tommy had started to come to life in her company, I had ignored the fact that she had betrayed our family to a fucking inspector. Did you know she was a secret agent and tried to get us all killed?” Esmeralda shook her head. The fact was that she did not know anything about the Shelby’s before getting here. Even staying in the very same house, she did not have an appetite for gossip, so asking questions and trying to pry for stories and tales was out of the question. But the way Polly was telling everything it seemed as if they were quite a popular and much talked about family in the city. She further told her some funny stories from the pre-war times. “There was this young lad who would bully Ada all the time. Belonged to a good family, kept on calling her ‘Gypsy scum’ whenever he saw her. One day when she came home crying, all three of them decided to teach him a lesson. They picked him up and took him to a secluded warehouse…” Esmeralda’s eyes widened, “To beat him up… kill him?” Polly laughed, “No. to get him married to her!” “What?” she couldn’t believe it. “They had done the whole set up there. Johnny Doggs was supposed to be the priest and all!” she laughed so hard that her cheeks turned red. “The poor lad was so scared of the prospect of getting attached to a gypsy, he almost peed himself!” Esmeralda laughed too, “But what did you do when you got to know about it?”

    “Got to know? I was right there!” Esmeralda’s expression made her laugh even harder, “It was just a bit of fun really. Oh! Those were the good times. No money but lots of laughter. Now its money, ambition, power…. Everything except… happiness.” Polly sighed loudly.  She could not imagine any of them like this. Ever since she’d met them, her own tribulations aside, they all seemed to have a gloomy cloud above their heads.

     She abruptly got up causing Polly to raise her brows, “Where are you going?” she did not meet her eyes when she replied, “To practice my shooting.”

[mandowh0re]

Remember Me

Chapter 1

Summary: While cleaning up the timelines that he broke, Loki meets and inevitably loses the one person that's understood him in life. But he's not losing you without a fight

A/N: Beta'd by @edgyvege

Warnings: Mentions of death

Word Count: 1619

Happy reading!

It’s a quiet evening, and the Avengers that lived in the compound decided to take advantage of the rainy evening and have a movie night. Steve had called Tony over, who had brought Peter with him. The father and son duo has stopped on the way from the city to pick up a plethora of unhealthy snacks, including everyone’s favorite chips and candies.

They’re currently all settled in the common room watching She-Ra. Peter’s head is resing on Tony’s shoulder, Thor is snuggled up to Bruce, Natasha and Clint are sitting in the same recliner, Wanda and Vision are on one side of the love seat, Steve on the other side of Tony, Bucky and Sam sitting on the floor behind the coffee table.

They’re at the part where Adora is being stalked by Shadow Weaver in Mystacor, when the TV suddenly flickers, the audio warping. There’s a buzzing sound behind them closer to the kitchenette.

Everyone straightens in their seats, suddenly on alert.

“Friday,” Tony barks, pushing Peter behind him, “Lights.”

The lights cut on and everyone in the room watches as the air seems to distort and glow, similarly to when the sun beats down on the pavement, before a blonde man walks out with a cuffed and collared Loki behind him.

Every person in the room jumps into a defensive stance, some already with weapons that are always stashed and hidden throughout the compound, and each ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

Thor leaps over the couch and calls his hammer to him in one swift movement, but he doesn’t look frightened or angry.

He just looks… Mournful.

“Loki?” He says with apprehension, tilting his head.

It looks like Loki, and he’s certainly bound the way Loki should be if he were up to no good. But he watched Loki die. He watched Thanos crush the life out of him and toss him to the floor of that ship as if he were a worthless piece of balled up paper.

The blonde man holds up his hands in front of himself, as if to signal that they’re not here to cause any harm.

“Please, allow me to explain why we are here before this turns ugly.” The stranger pleads.

Thor looks back to his team, making eye contact with Tony and Steve.

They look apprehensive, and Tony has an iron grip on his kid, but Steve nods carefully.

Thor turns back to the stranger and nods, but his focus is mainly on Loki, “Go ahead.”

The man drops his hands and pockets them before beginning his story, “Okay. My name is Mobius, and I am a Timekeeper. My job, like Thor is probably aware, is to keep the timelines safe, intact, and to keep them from ever intersecting. When the Avengers used the Pym Particles to go back in time and retrieve the Infinity Stones; Stark, Rogers, Banner, and Lang went back to the Battle of New York in 2012. When they infiltrated the 2012 Avengers to get a hold of the tesseract, they made an error that caused the tesseract to fall into the hands of that Loki.”

Thor’s brows shot up to his hairline and he whipped around to look at Tony, “What? Why was I not informed of this?”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to hold his hands up, “Okay, hey. We didn’t have time to focus on that, and you were still grieving your brother. It would not have done anyone any good to bring it up while we were still in the fight of our lives.”

“And what about after?” He barks.

“While I agree this is something you all should discuss, I respectfully ask that you do that later,” Mobius interrupts, “I have places to be.”

Thor huffs and gives Tony one last glare before he turns back to the two other men.

“Right, anyways. When Loki took the tesseract and escaped, he broke that timeline. It caused multiple branches off of it,” He starts to take a step forward to the group, but decides against it when Thor’s nostrils flare, “We tracked him down, arrested him, and brought him into custody. He was given the option of life in prison or parole if he agreed to help us fix the timeline and erase the others. And I’m sure you can imagine what he chose.”

“I mean, there wasn’t much of a choice, was there?” Loki mumbles.

“Do you mind?” Mobius mumbles back, then turns to finish his story, “Through several months of helping us, Loki has proved himself to be, well, no longer a universal threat.”

“How do we know you aren’t under some spell of his?” Natasha asks, “Or working with him?”

“You don’t,” Mobius shrugs, “But he does know everything that has happened to him and those around him up until his final death. He was given the choice of choosing where he wanted to go at his time of being released, and I believe it says something for him to choose here.”

“Not much, actually. He’s manipulative.” Steve chimes in.

Mobius holds a finger up, “That he is. But unlike before, he has a lot more to lose this time.”

Thor crosses his arms, “And what would that be?”

***

You hum as you stock the shelves with the new shipment of books you just received.

It’s a nice day out. Mid April, the trees and flowers are blooming, and it’s finally nice enough outside to leave windows open. The mini fan is running on the counter where the register is, and the music is flowing quietly throughout your shop.

A very pleasant day, indeed.

You hear the windchimes attached to the shop door tinkle brightly, and you call over your shoulder as you finish placing the last few books, “Welcome! I’ll be right with you!”

When you’re finished, you grab the now empty cardboard box and use your pocket knife to break it down as you walk back to the front of the small store.

When you look up, a tall man with dark hair and a black suit is standing by the register, hands in his pockets. He’s incredibly handsome and as your eyes scan his features, you can’t help but feel like you have seen him before.

“Hi! How can I help you?” You ask, tossing the now flattened box onto a pile of others before walking behind the counter.

The man looks at you, tearing his gaze from a picture you had behind the counter, and his eyes meet yours. For the briefest of moments, you think you see grief flash across his emerald eyes. But as quick as you think you saw it, it's gone.

“Hello,” He greets, his voice satiny smooth, “A friend of mine recommended a book, and I was wondering if you could help me get my hands on a copy.”

“Sure!” You lean against the counter and fold your hands, “What’s it called?”

“I believe it’s called Norse Mythology, written by a Neil Gaiman.”

Your eyes light up and you push off your elbows to stand, “That’s my favorite book! Your friend must have amazing taste!” You wink.

He nods, eyes never leaving you, “I like to think so.”

“I definitely have it! Can’t really consider myself a good bookstore owner if I don’t keep my favorite books in stock, follow me.” You walk out from behind the counter and wave the handsome man to follow you. You know exactly where to go, and weave expertly between the shelves of your small shop. You finally come to a halt and reach down to grab the book, handing it to him, “Here you are.”

He takes the book from you and offers a kind smile and he turns it over in his hands, reading the back, “Thank you.”

“Of course, let’s go get you checked out,” You smile, staring at the handsome stranger before you realize what you’re doing.

The two of you walk back to the front of the store, and he lays the book down for you to scan it.

You take another look at him, and you’re not sure what possesses you to say it. You later account it to having been alone for so long.

“Actually- Here...” You lean down under the counter where you have your own stash of books, and grab your own copy of Norse Mythology. You stand back up and place it in front of him, “Why don’t you borrow my copy? I know it’s not as pretty as a new one, but if you don’t like it, you won’t have wasted the money. If you do like it, we can talk about it. Either way, you’ll have to return it,” You look down to the countertop before bringing your eyes to meet him once more, “And I can see you again.”

A beautifully sweet smile spreads across the man’s face. His eyes flicker down, noticing that you’re picking at your nails; it’s your nervous habit. He places a hand on the worn paperback book, “Lovely. Sounds like a plan to me. Shall we say next week, this time?”

Your smile brightens considerably, and you feel butterflies come to life in your belly, “See you then.”

He bends at the waist, bowing slightly, and turns to leave. You watch as his slender hand grabs the door knob, when a thought occurs to you.

“Wait!” You shout, reaching out your hand.

He stops dead in his tracks and turns back to you, an eyebrow quirked.

“What’s your name?”

He stiffens slightly. It’s so subtle that you barely notice it, but you do. Finally, a soft look adorns the man’s handsome features, and he looks a little sad. But he still answers.

“Loki.”

***

Remember Me Taglist: @idunnomayn

Permanent Taglist: @a-place-to-blog-marvel-stuff @yes-iamironman-blog @paradoxicalblueberry @the-regal-warrior @transparentparadiseglitterzombie @marvelgem @propertyofmarvel @avngrsinitiative @my-leg-is-not-a-chew-toy @lyricalstella-blog @just-the-daydreamer @hufflely-puffly

[music-of-dragons]

Here's part three!

Loose Key for organization:

● Summary ○ My thoughts

AGOT Dany III

● This chapter begins with Dany looking out over the Dothraki Sea with Jorah by her side, he is explaining the types of grass that grow. ~"Down in the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai, they say there are oceans of ghost grass, taller than a man on horseback with stalks as pale as milkglass. It murders all other grass and glows in the dark with the spirits of the damned. The Dothraki claim that someday ghost grass will cover the entire world, and then all life will end." That thought gave Dany the shivers.~

○ The description of the ghost grass and the Dothraki prophecy are very similar to that of the Others and the Long Night. Directly after this imagery Dany shivers, which is associated with being cold or frightened. I believe that the Stallion prophecy is the Dothraki version of Azor Ahai. 

● Dany is enjoying the beauty of the day when the rest of the Khalasar begin to approach, Viserys with them. Dany, slowly learning to embrace her own agency and power, tells Jorah to command the Khalasar to stop so that she could ride ahead and not hear Viserys's complaints.

 

● Dany reflects on her first days with the Khalasar and how tough they had been. Khal Drogo ignored her during sex and she would cry from the pain, she was racked with saddle sores and blistered hands. Dany decided that she would rather kill herself than continue on, until she had a dragon dream. Viserys is not in the dream this time, only her and the dragon. "It's scales were black as night, wet and slick with blood. Her blood, Dany sensed.~

○ Just as Dany's thighs were slick with blood in her first dragon dream, the dragon is now covered in her blood. This is more birth imagery! Babies are born covered in their mother's blood, so Dany will birth the dragons, and her blood/sacrifice will be needed for the ritual. Viserys disappearing from the first dream then not appearing in this dream is a sign that Viserys will have to be gone/die in order for Dany to become who she is meant to be and hatch the dragons. When the dragon breathes flame at her, she feels no pain. Her body is cleansed by the fire and it helps her feel stronger and more fierce, this bled into her reality.

● Dany noticeably changed after her dream, her handmaid even asked if she had gotten sick. ~"I was, she answered, standing over the dragon's eggs that Illyrio had given her when she wed. She touched one, the largest of the three, running her hand lightly over the shell. Black and scarlet, she thought, like the dragon in my dream."~ The egg felt warm to Dany, though she dismissed it. 

● Dany feels that her horse knows her moods and that they share a single mind, Irri may be teaching her Dothraki riding but the silver is her true teacher. 

○ This connection that Dany feels with her silver, I believe, has some magic involved. It may also be foreshadowing her warg-like connection with Drogon. Dany thinks to herself that she had never loved anything so much.

● Dany, still reflecting, thinks about how she began to appreciate the beauty of the world around her; her soreness after riding was welcomed, her nights with Drogo were more pleasurable, and every day she is eager to mount her silver and ride ahead.

○This is a direct result of her dragon dreams and coping mechanisms. She is slowly growing from a meek little girl to a strong young woman, she is handling the Dothraki lifestyle better than her "dragon" brother.

●Dany makes it to the bottom of the ridge and hears Viserys shrieking at Ser Jorah, so she plunges deeper into the grass. Dany feels a sudden urge to feel the soil between her toes because she feels happy and at peace in the grass. She dismounts and is removing her boots when Viserys is on her, rearing his horse, screaming. Viserys tells her to look at herself, dressed in Dothraki clothing and Viserys dressed in soiled city silks and ringmail. 

○ This difference between the two of them is important. Dany's ability to adapt to the culture around her is what allows her to survive, while Viserys separates himself from those he deems beneath him and it will eventually lead to his downfall. This is humility vs superiority at its finest. Dany is making the most of a situation her own brother placed her in, doing everything he commanded of her, yet he is enraged by her power as a Khaleesi. 

● Viserys makes a grab for Dany's chest and twists at her breasts but she pushes him away, this is the first time she has stuck up for herself, and she knows that Viserys will hurt her badly for it. Before Viserys can continue, Jhogo's whip coils around his neck and saves Dany from further harm. Despite all that he's done to her Dany refuses to have him harmed. She thinks to herself that he looks pitiful on the ground, sobbing and sucking in breath. ~He had always been a pitiful thing. Why had she never seen that before? There was a hollow place inside her where her fear had been.~

○ Dany is no longer taking Viserys's abuses lying down. She is finally coming to realize that Viserys was never truly a man to fear, his power over her was an illusion that he created by conditioning Dany with abuse and "waking the dragon". However, despite all this, Dany still loves her brother which will be demonstrated by her actions and thoughts later. 

○ Dany commands Jorah to take his horse, she has learned more of Dothraki ways and knew that taking his horse would shame him in the Khalasar. He would walk with the women and slaves instead of mounted. She literally gets him off his high horse! 

●Viserys commands Jorah to kill the Dothraki dogs and hurt Dany. He looks at her with her bare feet and oiled hair, then at Viserys in his soiled silks and ringmail, and decides ~"He shall walk, Khaleesi."~

● Dany and Jorah have an important conversation about Viserys and the Smallfolk. When she becomes afraid because of what she did to Viserys, he tells her Rhaegar was the last dragon and that Viserys was less than the shadow of a snake. The smallfolk don't care who sits the Iron Throne, they just want to be left in peace. Dany is shaken by his words, but she hears the truth in them. He even gets her to admit that Viserys would not be a good king. When asked about home, Dany envisions Westeros and Dragonstone, all with red doors. 

○That is what Dany desires most; a home with safety and comfort like the house Ser Willem raised her in. She believes that she will find that home in Westeros.

● She admits to Jorah that she knows Viserys would never take them home, even with an army. Later, Dany has a mini vision after seeing a dusty finger of light touch her eggs, a thousand droplets of scarlet flame, she blinks and they are gone.

○ This, again, is her subconscious leading her to the magic needed to hatch the eggs. Dany feels the eggs and they are warm, but she convinces herself they were warmed by the sun. She knows that the stone eggs shouldn't be alive with heat and is trying to rationalize it by continuously making excuses because she's not ready to hatch them, not just yet.

○ Irri hops in the bath with Dany, she has no problem bathing with her and is very close with her handmaids. She never treats them harshly even though they are slaves of the Khalasar.

○ In the next chapter, Dany is called "Moon of my Life'' by Drogo while she calls him "My Sun and Stars". The story that Doreah tells Dany while bathing consists of the moon wandering too close to the sun and cracking, pouring out dragons, then they drink the fire of the sun. I think this story is a hint that Dany, the moon, will hatch dragons herself, and they will be given life by Drogo, the sun. 

● Dany spends time with Doreah learning to pleasure Khal Drogo. She takes him beneath the stars for all to see ~For the Dothraki believed that all things of importance in a man's life must be done beneath the open sky.~ It is Dany's 14th nameday when Jhiqui tells her she is with child. ~"I know."~ Dany tells her.

○ Dany has finally completely adapted to the life of the Dothraki and is more comfortable, brave, and happy than she ever has been. She has agency and power so long as Drogo allows it, and her relationship with him has improved. She isn't suffering in the shadow of her brother any longer. 

Dany IV up next!

Art by Ted Nasmith

[trashmenofmarvel]

Always Will Be - Ch 2

Pairing: Loki x TVA Agent!Reader

Series Warnings (18+ Only): Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Violence, Time Shenanigans, Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Chapter Summary: You interview Laufeyson for his crimes against the Sacred Timeline. 

AO3

The journey from the elevator was uneventful as you led the variant down the long hallway. Other employees of the TVA also walked the hall, alone or in pairs, and they paid attention to the two of you only to make sure you weren’t in their path.

You kept Laufeyson firmly in your periphery, more to keep him from wandering than a belief that he would attempt to escape. You didn’t doubt that would come at some point, but it was a little too early for him to play that hand.

“Where are we going?”

The casual candor of his voice didn’t fool you, not when the sharpness of his gaze was heating the side of your face.

“If it’s to my execution, I would rather know ahead of time,” he added with false friendliness. “It’s just polite.”

“We don’t kill people, Mister Laufeyson.”

“I can’t suffer a liar.”

You stopped before a heavy double door, two Minutemen standing guard on either side of it, and turned to the variant.

“I don’t lie. That’s your department.”

His eyes darkened and genuine anger flashed in their depths, but then it was gone so fast you would have questioned it was there in the first place if you hadn’t known better.

But you did.

Both Minutemen opened the doors, and you led the prisoner into Time Theater 25. It was the same beige color as the rest of the wing, and the only pieces of furniture were a small, round glass table, two metal weave chairs, and a control monitor.

You indicated the seat to the left and said, “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“I would be more comfortable with this collar removed.”

Out of the corner of your eye he moved, quickly and without warning. You slipped the remote out of your sleeve and thumbed the pad. In the blink of an eye, he vanished and reappeared where he’d been two seconds previously, as if he hadn’t moved at all.

“You’ll find time works differently here at the TVA,” you informed him. “Please, sit.”

He said nothing, the animosity wafting off of him in waves. You ignored him, setting the files of paperwork down onto the table before taking your own chair. He took his own, albeit more cautiously, his eyes narrowed in dislike.

“Let the record show this is the entirety of Loki Laufeyson’s life recording,” you began. “Formerly of Jotunheim, formerly of Asgard—“

“—and formerly of Midgard.”

His smile was sharp.

“I did spend quite some time there. Both in my youth, and well, more recently.”

“I’m well aware.”

“Just wanted to be sure you’re thorough in your interview. That is what this is, isn’t it? My intake interview?”

You ignored the curious tilt of his head, as well as his question, and turned to the control monitor. It was rather small, round and orange, almost reminiscence of the gumball candies invented on Earth.

You flipped a switch and the room dimmed just as a rippling image of light appeared on the wall, powered by the holoprojector.

“We will be very thorough, Mister Laufeyson, and we shall start from the beginning. This is your home world. And that is you.”

The image focused on something small, blue, and wailing. The prisoner as a child, dying and abandoned.

You had seen the reel hundreds of times, had scoured most of this variant’s life. So while the film played, you watched him out of the corner of your eye. It was curious that Laufeyson didn’t flinch at the sight of his infant self being left to die. His face was carefully blank, unreadable, and his eyes barely moved.

But there was a shift when the King of Asgard entered the scene. When Odin lifted the lost babe into his arms, his nose slightly crinkled at the corners.

It was the only obvious tell he gave for quite a while. Laufeyson was closed off, appearing almost bored as his adolescence played out on the wall. The two royal brothers had rowdy, adventure-filled childhoods, though Laufeyson often acted as his brother’s second shadow. He only excelled when given magical lessons by his adoptive mother.

He gave an eye roll or two during Thor’s coronation, and he actually yawned during the fight on Jotunheim. But his boredom fell away when blue stretched across his skin for the first time, inflicted by the touch of a Jotun. And he replaced the carefully constructed mask over the confrontation with his adoptive father, and the truth was revealed that his very identity had been a fabrication.

When the scene was finally over and the King had fallen into Odinsleep, an inexperienced and uneducated person might have believed Laufeyson was unaffected. That all of the events of his childhood were little more than entertainment for his amusement.

But it wasn’t. Having to relive those moments would linger in his mind, and that was the point.

He smirked whenever the scene changed to him displaying power over Thor and his companions while holding the temporary throne. He seemed to enjoy his adoptive brother’s exile to Earth, and there was no shame given for these childish displays. That’s what they were, the product of a child throwing a tantrum.

His mask started to slip again, but not at the timestamp you expected. Laufeyson flinched at the point of violent contact between the Destroyer and Thor, knocking him back and nearly killing him in the process. Would have, if not for Thor’s returned power.

You wondered if Laufeyson had wanted to murder his brother intentionally, or if he had underestimated the Destroyer’s strength.

You picked up a notepad and scribbled down the question. Unfortunately, the chronological record could only display events as they happened, not the motivation or intention of the actors involved. It was a relevant question to ponder later.

“What are you doing?”

You lifted your head to find the variant staring at you. You clicked your pen closed and put it on the table, keeping the notepad firmly in your lap.

“You needn’t concern yourself. Please, pay attention to the screen.”

His gaze narrowed but said nothing. It was a look you were familiar with, though not one aimed at you. It meant Laufeyson would also ponder the question for later, though with an agenda bent toward scheming and manipulation.

You would need to be careful, but not as careful as he needed to be. After all, he was the Time Criminal.

The battle between Laufeyson and Odinson drew a few chuckles and smiles from the variant, as if he were recalling fond memories. His expression flattened into boredom when the King arrived to prevent Loki from falling, and his face remained blank as he let go, falling into the wormhole the unstable Bifrost had created.

It was a show, all for your benefit. Proof that he didn’t care about those he had harmed, that he was above all of his past decisions.

Because of his put-upon apathy, you let the record continue to run. You knew what came next. He did too.

Laufeyson watched his past-self float amongst the stares, frozen and immobilized in the vacuum of space. He didn’t perish, Jotuns and Asgardians were too tough for that, but it wasn’t pleasant. The subzero temperatures, the negative pressure, the absence of air and light, all contributed to his silent suffering.

It was a pleasure compared to what happened after.

A massive, dark ship appeared on the horizon, pulling him onboard. Laufeyson barely had time to defrost (even Jotuns had a freezing limit) before he was fixed with an electric collar and thrown into a cell.

Laufeyson was left in the dark for days with no food or water. He was brought out only to be strung up by his wrists, asked questions he refused to answer, and then he was electrocuted until he was barely conscious.

He was returned to his cell, given nothing for warmth or sustenance, and the process began again several days later.

The present-day Laufeyson didn’t blink. Didn’t seem to breathe as he watched. His eyes were glazed over, skin pale under the harsh lighting.

Another round of torture, but this one was different. It was inflicted not by electricity, but by a blue stone. Not the stone he would use to splinter the timeline. This stone was actually yellow, and it commanded minds rather than physical space, but Laufeyson didn’t know that at the time.

All he knew was agony, delivered by the hands of the owner of the ship. A warlord from Titan that would not stop until Laufeyson begged to be allowed to serve.

And beg he would. It had already happened, was recorded with perfect clarity, and it would happen within just a few short hours of being exposed to the Mind Stone.

Laufeyson made a small noise, quiet compared to the distant screaming of his former self.

“What was that?” you asked at normal.

“I said stop.”

When you craned your head in his direction, he refused to meet your eye.

“I don’t want to see this.”

You put your pen down on the table and fully faced him, folding your fingers in front of you.

“Do you verbally acknowledge that you wish to skip the contents of your time with Thanos the Mad Titan?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

“A yes or no response is required.”

“Yes.”

He drew out the word in a growl.

“Do you verbally acknowledge that the Time Variance Authority is under no legal responsibility for memory gaps or incorrect memory recall for the time skipped during this interview process—“

“Yes.”

“Do you verbally acknowledge the contents that lie herein are accurate and complete—“

“Yes!”

He jerked his head toward you, his eyes reflective and bloodshot, teeth bared in a quiet snarl.

“It’s accurate, as you bloody well know, so unless you derive sick pleasure from the tortured screams of others, would you be so kind as to fucking skip it!”

His chest heaved, skin dotted with sweat, and he was half out of his seat with fingers clawing into the table hard enough for hairline cracks to splinter down the glass.

You had witnessed the variant become aggressive and hostile before, mostly against his adopted brother. Having the force of that fury directed at your direction was a much different experience.

You dropped your eyes and smoothed your tie, giving him a moment to collect himself. When you heard the shuffle of him retaking his chair, you lifted your head but kept your eyes on the monitor. With a few knobs turned and a switch flipped, the image on the wall, currently depicting Laufeyson kneeling before Thanos, supplicating him with promises of whatever he wished.

What Thanos wished was now being shown on the screen: the variant arriving on Earth to steal the Tesseract and prepare for Thanos’ full force to arrive.

Replaying the events of Earth Incident 327-A (colloquially known as the Battle of New York by Earth residents) garnered less of a response from the variant. He watched impassioned as his past-self led the Chitauri against the Avengers, and subsequently lost that battle.

“I really don’t see what all the fuss is about,” he said, gesturing vaguely at the screen as it displayed all of the Avengers seemingly threatening the audience. “A few humans perished. It’s what they do. Nothing to get excited over.”

You ignored the comment. He wasn’t, after all, under scrutiny for the lives he’d taken while under Thanos’ control.

No. The reason for his current incarceration came next.

The holoprojector displayed Alexander Pierce stopping Thor Odinson and Tony Stark, demanding Laufeyson and the Tesseract be remanded to his custody. The argument was interrupted as Stark went into a mild cardiac dysrhythmia due to Scott Lang sabotaging his Arc Reactor.

Lang then kicked the case containing the Space Stone towards another variant of Stark.

The only occupant of the room to notice was Laufeyson. Bruce Banner (as his Hulk persona) created the chaos needed for the Tesseract to be freed from its case, tapping lightly against Laufeyson’s boot.

You fully turned to the variant just as his past-self picks up the Tesseract, disappearing into a spacial rift and vanishing off the screen.

“On May 4th, 2012 at 11:39AM local time, a nexus event occurred.”

The variant rolled his eyes. You continued.

“Loki Variant L1130—“

His eyes narrowed.

“—by using the Tesseract to escape the Avenger’s custody, you created an unsanctioned timeline, and therefore have been deemed a Time Criminal. This timeline has been course-corrected by the Time Variance Authority, and it is my duty as your handler to determine whether you are to be assigned to a Time Cell or pruned.”

“Pruned?” He wrinkled his nose. “I believe the term you’re looking for is killed. I arrived at the same time as another man, and he refused to cooperate. Those goons melted him without hesitation.”

You slightly leaned forward, speaking concisely so there would be no misunderstanding.

“That ‘man’ was a variant, as are you. A being whose existence should never have come to be, and therefore, your life is null. Forfeit. It is by our grace that you even draw breath, and it’s my job to ensure you continue breathing from behind the walls of a cell.”

You leaned back and shuffled your papers in front of you.

“As I said before, we don’t kill people, Mister Laufeyson. Variants are not people.”

Something flashed within his eyes. You only caught a glimpse of it before it was gone, and then his expression was back to one of hostility.

“I deny the charges.”

You blinked.

“You cannot deny them.”

“I just did.”

“It is an irrefutable fact that you stole the Tesseract—“

“My apologies, but,” Laufeyson interrupted, not sorry at all, “did we not watch the same act of the play? Because I distinctly remember seeing a very tiny man stealing the Tesseract first, handing it off to what appears to be a second Tony Stark, who then tried to make off with it before a certain green monster deprived him of his ill-gotten gains.”

Laufeyson spread his hands, giving a toothy smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“You may as well charge the Hulk with spoiling the timeline—it certainly wouldn’t have happened without his helpful input. In fact, bring in all the Avengers for crimes against the ‘Sacred Timeline.’ They’re just as guilty as I am, unless that goateed chap I saw happened to be Stark’s long lost twin brother.”

Laufeyson sat up straighter, staring you down.

“You speak of Time Criminals? It’s they you should be after.”

Then just as quickly, he crossed his arms and leveled you with an amused tilt of his head.

“Perhaps you could provide me with a taskforce and resources, and I could return and eliminate them for you. No? Nothing? Cat got your tongue again, darling?”

You rose to your feet, bracing the palms of your hands against the table as you looked him in the eye.

“You picked up the Space Stone and stole it, breaking the timeline. You did that. No one else. It was your actions that brought you here.”

It was not this Loki variant those words had been spoken to, but the smile was wiped from his face just as quickly. Deep down, he may have sensed an echo of those words. A phenomenon known as déjà vu to the common layman, when in reality it was something variants experienced from the Sacred Timeline they were no longer a part of.

Laufeyson also rose to his feet, leaning against the table to meet you in a staring match. He had height on you, and he took advantage of it to lean uncomfortably close.

“You speak of my actions as if you can possibly understand them. You think you know me by watching from a safe, comfortable distance?”

His eyes looked between yours, boring into them with an intensity that was unsettling. And when he spoke, his voice was low and deceptively soothing.

“I know what this place is. Your organization is shrouded in mystery, more of a legend than fact according to Asgardian historians. But Frigga, she should sense your constant manipulations, echoing across time. She forewarned me of what should happen if I come across your ilk. She thought you one of the greatest threats of the universe, but I? I see an amusing sideshow. The Time-Keepers have built quite the circus.”

He leaned in so close you could barely keep him in focus, his warm breath puffing across your face.

“And I see the clowns are playing their parts to perfection.”

You didn’t budge, refusing to cede ground and give him the satisfaction he sought.

“And in this metaphor of yours, where do you see yourself?”

His lips spread into a sharp grin, and he hovered closer.

“In the center of the ring, of course.”

For a moment, you thought he would close the rest of the distance. The sudden aversion of what he might do was so strong that you looked away first, backing off and sitting back down under the pretense of organizing your files.

“It sounds as if you cast yourself as the ringleader,” you commented, still shuffling papers. “The smartest of us all.”

“I am smart.”

“I know.”

He went silent as he slowly sat down, his expression open with surprise. The only one who had ever acknowledged his intelligence without it being an insult was his adoptive mother. Those who knew Laufeyson personally knew how intelligent he was and saw it as a threat to their ego.

You had no such concern, nor did you have an ego to protect. Laufeyson was smart, smarter than you by all accounts, but he wasn’t in control. You were. And that was something he still needed to learn, for his own sake.

“I believe we’ve discussed all that is required,” you said. “This interview is over.”

You stood from your chair and closed your folders, picking them up and tucking them into your arms.

Laufeyson mirrored your movement, rising to his feet, the movement quicker to catch up to you.

“Now, hang on just a minute,” he protested. “We’re not through here, not by a long shot. I demand to speak to someone with actual authority around here, because this is a mistake. I don’t belong here, and you don’t have the power to—”

Pulling out your remote, you rubbed your thumb across the dial, and an internal TVA portal appeared underneath Laufeyson’s feet. He disappeared into it with a cry before the beige portal vanished.

You adjusted your files, straightened your tie, and left the time theater. You had just enough time to grab a bite to eat before the next stage of Laufeyson’s intake procedure.

Next Chapter

[a-edgar-allan-hoe]

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 16

A/N: Y’all chapter 16 IS HERE!!!!! Well this was a difficult chapter to write but it includes a fluffy ending! 🙂 I hope you lovelies enjoy it and feedback is greatly appreciated! And as always, have a beautiful day and let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! ☺️ 💕💕💕💕

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity, and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside, until a certain trio appear at your doorstep one day.

Warnings: language, mentions of past trauma and abuse, blood and gore, mentions of past torture, scars

There was still daylight outside when you had roused from your nap, the sunshine emerging through the gap in the tall closed curtains just enough to provide the living room with some light and warmth. Yet another nightmare terrorized your dreams in the few hours of your slumber, the very same one that haunted you the night before in regards to the scars on your back. Whenever will these night terrors cease to exist? Shall you ever hope to one day have the fortuity of being able to rest your head and not have to wake up in absolute terror and dread.

You laid there on the couch, hands resting on your stomach as you stared up at the coffered ceiling, your eyes tracing the grooves along the panels as you reflected on what had occurred not very long ago. Which reminded you, you would have to check on your wound soon, hoping that your Olympian genes had at least allowed it to heal. And while you were at it, you could really use a bath. Sam was disappointedly no longer nestled next to you, leaving you in an empty coldness even though a blanket had been thrown over your sleeping form. Thoughts of divulging the story behind your scars invaded your mind like a dark stormy cloud hovering above your head, ready to rain down with feelings of fear, guilt, and shame. Sam had warned you about the dangers of keeping yourself in a dark hole. How shutting yourself off from the rest of the world and leaving your mind to the negative thoughts that ate at you like a blood-sucking parasite would slowly devour every last ounce of you that made you alive. It was no different than jumping into piranha infested waters. You had to tell them the truth about you soon, even if it was piece by piece, like putting together a puzzle to reveal the whole picture. However, you felt a sense of foreboding deep within your spine upon when the time would come. Seeing the whole picture only meant seeing the real you. And you couldn’t help but feel they’d look at you with the utmost horror indescribable to mortals, like the monster you were. You couldn’t blame them if they never wished to see you again. You’d run from that part of you if you could.

You got up with a soft groan, your hair was disarray and your body was stiff and sore as you looked around the dim room to see Sam sat on a stool by the kitchen area staring down at his laptop, the light from the screen Illuminating the blank expression on his face that masked a layer of concern behind it. Sam’s heart was torn from the moment he laid his eyes on your back, he could still feel the way his heart skipped a beat when he caught sight of those jagged lines. The picture was imbedded in his mind like the first time you witness something upsetting. Sam could almost count the scars and map it out. This explained why you never wore a tank top and stuck with t-shirts. You had hid this from everyone since the beginning.

Bucky stood off to the other side of the room with his hands in his pockets. You noticed how his brows were knitted together, his eyes which were usually bright, now held a shadow over them as stared off into the distance. Little did you know, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you. The image still haunted his thoughts like a demonic spirit. Bucky had felt this malevolent and nefarious atmosphere surround him in that moment he first saw the slashes that lined your back, like a dense fog concealing something evil lurking behind the mist. In the days that he had known you, he believed you to be one of the most caring souls he had the luck of coming across in all his years, you reminded him of Steve in some ways. Who could have done this to you? Whatever did you do to deserve such cruelty?

“Y/n?” Bucky’s face lightened up as he walked over to you to see how you were holding up once he saw you sitting up on the couch. “How are you feeling?” He crouched down next to you, laying his hand on top of your bare foreman. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much pain you must have been in, to get shot and walk it off as if nothing had happened. He wished you had told him, instead of trying to hide it. It ended up doing you more harm than good.

“Better. Still a bit weak, but I think I’m gaining my strength back.” You smiled at him, squeezing his hand as you lost yourself in his eyes, blushing under his gaze from how close he was to you and to the way his hand was on the bare skin of your arm. They had been the first thing you noticed about him, those bright steel blue orbs contrasted against his dark lashes that seemed to pierce right through you like icy daggers. You found them to be striking, as if you were staring into the skies of an oncoming storm. However, that was until you saw the curl of his lips and the crinkles at the outer corners of his eyes, it was then his boyish smile that completely transcended his appearance. And when he smiled at you, you could never seem to pull yourself away. It was that same charming smile that captivated you since 1942.

“That’s good to hear.” Sam spoke up after hearing your answer, looking up at you with a warm smile. “I knew you’d pull through.”

“You have too much faith in me Sam.” You shook your head with a soft chuckle. Your ears perked up at the sound of the bathroom doors opening, and when you turned towards it, your eyes nearly widened at the sight before you. There in the vicinity of the entrance to the bathroom stood Zemo fresh out of the shower wearing a bathrobe, his bare chest visible from under the collar where a thin gold chain hung loosely around his neck. His skin glistened from the water droplets that still clung to him, like the dew that formed on blades of grass and the surrounding plant-life the morning after a cold and misty night. He carried with him a small towel, using it to dry his damp hair, the loose strands falling over the side of his face. Your breath was caught in your throat as you watched him go over to the kitchen area, leaving behind a trail of his cologne as he went. The scent was much sharper now from being just recently applied and caused the hairs on your arms to stand up, encompassing you in a haze of this medley of fragrances. Your nose vivified from your sense of smell that picked up on the hints of cedar, fig, grapefruit, orange, pepper, vetiver and ylang-ylang. He smelled incredible.

In this very moment, you were beyond thankful you were the only one with telepathic abilities, due to certain uninhibited images that played within the walls of your mind. Your eyes flickered down to the belt of the robe that was tied around his torso, your fingers itching to untie the one sole thing that with a single tug, would leave him for you to behold and admire. You turned your gaze to the floor, your face burning along with your thoughts that seemed to swallow you whole. By the gods and the pits of Tartarus, were you really lusting after that man? If you had went back in time and told yourself that you would one day be infatuated with and dare say even be consumed with desire for none other than Helmut Zemo himself, you would have stabbed yourself and thrown your body into Tartarus with your own two hands to prevent such a thing from happening. You needed a shower, a cold one at that.

“Well, I probably should have said this in the beginning.” Bucky cleared his throat as he had now sat next to you on the couch, you didn’t even notice his hand leave yours and you prayed he didn’t see the way you were drinking in Zemo. Fortune was in your favor, owing to the fact that Bucky had not noticed at all. “But the Wakandans are here. They want Zemo. Bought us some more time.”

You snapped your head towards Bucky upon hearing him say what you were ashamed to have felt a bit of dismay towards. You would be a fool to admit you didn’t see it coming. You had known the Wakandans were after him since the beginning, you said so yourself when you first saw him at your front door that day, hidden behind Bucky and Sam. Who would have known those words would eventually leave a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Were you followed?” Sam asked, his head shooting up from his phone after he heard what Bucky had announced.

“No.” Bucky shook his head.

“How can you be so sure?” Zemo questioned with a look of doubt.

“‘Cause I know when I’m being followed.”

“It was sweet of you to defend me at least.”

“Hey, you shut it.” Sam snapped at Zemo. “No one’s defending you. You killed Nagel.”

“Do we really have to litigate what may or may not have happened?” Zemo retaliated as he went behind the table, opening up the cupboards and peering at the items inside.

“There’s nothing to litigate. You straight shot the man.” Sam expressed as he followed Zemo with his head.

“Sam.” Bucky spoke up as he stared at an article on his phone, making you look at him in curiosity.

“What?”

“Karli bombed a GRC supply depot.”

Your brows furrowed when you heard what happened. What in the realms was this girl doing? Did she just cross the line?

“What? What’s the damage?” Sam looked stunned upon hearing the news.

“Eleven injured, three dead. They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren’t met.”

You sighed, shaking your head from what you heard. “This isn’t good.”

“She’s getting worse. I have the will to complete this mission. Do the two of you?” Zemo turned to the two of them.

“She’s just a kid.” Sam defended, none of this was sitting right with him.

“You’re seeing something in her that isn’t there.” Zemo tried to point out. “You’re clouded by it. She’s a supremacist. The very concept of a Super Soldier will always trouble people. It’s that warped aspiration that led to Nazis, to Ultron, to the Avengers.”

“You’re talking about our friends.” Sam glared.

“The Avengers, not the Nazis.” Bucky corrected Sam’s statement.

“So, Karli is radicalized, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her.”

“The desire to become a superhuman cannot be separated from supremacist ideals. Anyone with that serum is inherently on that path. She will not stop. She will escalate until you kill her. Or she kills you.”

“Maybe you’re wrong, Zemo.” Bucky mentioned. “The serum never corrupted Steve.”

“Touché.” Zemo pointed with a cookie on his finger from the jar he pulled out. “But there has never been another Steve Rogers, has there?”

“Well, maybe we should give him to the Wakandans right now.” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“And you’ll give up your tour guide?” Zemo went back to open up another cupboard.

“Yes.”

“You guys.” You groaned, making them turn their attention on you as you leaned back into the couch, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I hope you know that arguing isn’t going to help the situation at all. I agree with Sam, we should try to convince her to see the wrong in her ways first, try to get her to back down. Hopefully she’ll change her mind. But......if she doesn’t........”

“No.” Sam shook his head. “You’re not going to stab her.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” You stuck your hand out. “I was going to say throw her ass in jail if she persists. She’s already killed three and injured seven.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“You’re acting like I’ve never signed peace treaties before Sam. My sister Athena and I used to be diplomats, ambassadors for our planet. Our father would send us off to other worlds to build alliances. Let me tell you from my personal experience from the people I have dealt with. Someone who is so dead set in their ways and begins to see themselves as a form of liberator or savior on the right path, you gotta do a hell lot of convincing to get them to see clearly.”

“Karli may be different.” Sam looked at you.

“Yes, she may or may not be. It’s a 50/50 chance. But when you live as long as me you start to see similarities, patterns. History tends to repeat itself.”

“So what do we do?” Sam crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well. We take this with a diplomatic approach. I think you should go talk to her. You’re good at that.”

Sam nodded his head at your words, his eyes deep in thought.

“If you guys will excuse me.” You stood up from the couch. “I’m going to go check on my wound and wash up.”

“There should be some spare towels and robes.” Zemo gestured towards the bathroom, to which you thanked him with a nod.

You closed the bathroom doors behind you, locking it with a click before removing your articles of clothing and the gauze that was wrapped around your midsection. The wound had already healed, leaving behind a raised scar in its place, another mark to add to your collection. You shivered against the chilly air of the bathroom, your toes curled against the tile floors that were cool to the touch as you rubbed your arms. You went over to turn on the shower, running your hand under the water to check on the temperature before stepping in, closing your eyes and letting out a sigh the moment the warm water touched your skin.

Memories of your planet occupied your mind, filling you with a sense of solace as you remembered the beautiful lush land and the magnificent creatures that roamed them, scattered with tall mountains and waterfalls, lakes and streams, and the exquisite flowers that smelled absolutely heavenly whenever you passed them. You missed the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian architecture of the towering buildings and the tents that lined the local markets that you used to stroll through wearing a chiton and a pair of sandals, the markets always bustling with merchants, philosophers, painters, sculptors, and craftsmen of almost every kind. You missed the different smells of the food and spices that revitalized your senses and made your mouth water. And you missed the local hot springs, especially the secluded one you discovered on one of your walks. It was the perfect place for you to unwind, especially after a hard day of training where your muscles ached. The area was surrounded by plant life which offered you privacy, allowing you to immerse yourself in the waters in solitude and peace with a view that overlooked the ancient cities below you. When the sun went to rest over the horizon and the moon took command over the skies, the water itself became luminescent under the stars, as if someone had thrown handfuls of aquamarine jewels into it, which was stunning when complemented with the starry night sky. Gods, you missed your home, you missed the past. Apart from all those wonders that brightened up your eyes whenever you beheld them, you missed the familiar faces of the people you have come to know there. You missed the locals, and you missed your family. Your heart ached, it felt as if your soul was grappling with a pervasive emptiness that lurked in its dark and unexplored corners. An intense yearning overwhelmed you, a sentimental longing for the past and the things that were.

You sighed, shutting off the water and wiping away the tear that had managed to escape before stepping out of the shower, grabbing a towel to dry yourself off before slipping on a clean pair of clothes. Your hair was still damp as you wrapped a towel around it, opening the bathroom doors back up to see Bucky, Zemo, and Sam in a conversation.

“From my understanding, Donya is like a pillar of the community, right? So, when I was a kid, my TT passed away.” Sam elaborated.

You stopped, furrowing your brows at Sam, only managing to catch a snippet of the sentence. “Why are you talking about tits?”

“What?” Sam looked at you. “No not tits, my TT.”

“What about your tiddies?” You quirked.

“No my TT. TEE-TEE.”

“Your TT?” Bucky squinted at him.

“Yeah, my TT, yeah.” Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed that no one got what he was saying.

“Who is your TT?”

“Fine.” Sam sighed. “When I was a kid, my aunt passed away and the entire neighborhood got together for a ceremony. It was like a week long. Maybe they’re doing the same thing for Donya.”

“Sounds plausible.” You nodded, heading over to the kitchen to grab yourself a cold glass of water.

“Worth a shot.” Bucky noted.

“Your TT would be proud of you.” Zemo accentuated before tossing the three of you some candy. “Turkish delight. Irresistible.”

You caught the one Zemo tossed over to you, staring at the cubed piece of paper wrapped candy in your hands before looking up at Zemo with a raised brow. “Uh.....thanks.” You walked over to the couch where Bucky sat, sitting down next to him and popping the candy in your mouth after removing the wrapper.

“How’s the bullet wound?” Sam nodded towards you.

“It’s healed, thanks for asking.”

It was now or never.

“So uh......guys.” You cleared your throat, your nerves causing you torment like tiny little pinpricks over your skin. “About the uh............about the scars you saw on my back.”

“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” Bucky spoke softly after noticing how your voice shook, your eyes were glued to your hands as you picked at the skin on your fingers and palms.

“No.” You shook your head. “I can’t keep this hidden forever.” You sighed, taking in a deep breath to prepare yourself as the men watched you, silent as the grave as they listened attentively to what you had to say. “Long ago, back in Olympus when I had just reached adulthood, I used to be a diplomat for my father, as you already know. Well, that wasn’t my only duty. I was also an assassin, his.........personal executioner. I would be sent on missions to other worlds to take out tyrants, oppressors, the absolute heinous of society. In the beginning, it was for the health of the innocent, to unshackle the chains of injustice and cruelty. But then one day, Zeus wanted me to assassinate a king who had done no harm towards his people. At first, I couldn’t understand his reasoning on having me complete this mission, until it all clicked. I started to see the truth behind Zeus’s aspirations, his....ulterior motive. I had been completely oblivious to his twisted ambition and lust for power. I had never been so vexed with anyone and myself. I felt ridden with guilt, telling myself I should have caught on to his true intentions far earlier. So I confronted him about it and laid down the sword he gave me, not wanting anything to do with it. I told him what he was doing was wrong, and that I did not want to be a part of his path to reign of terror. Zeus became furious and tried to accuse me of treason before locking me up in the dungeons. I had never seen him with that kind of rage before. I was terrified to see my father act that way and hadn’t slept a wink that night in the cell. The very next day was my public punishment, one that Hera herself picked out. So his guards dragged me out to the stands that afternoon, the place where they held public shaming and punishments.”

You stopped, gathering yourself as you wiped away at the tears that fell down your cheeks. You could feel Bucky reach his hand out towards you so you grabbed it in return, clutching it with dear life as if it was the only thing that reminded you that you were here, not back in that traumatic moment, but here on earth with 3 men that would do absolutely anything for your safety and happiness. You choked back a sob as you continued. “They tore open the back of my dress, leaving me bare from the waist up for all to see before tying my wrists to the wooden post. I had never felt so humiliated and frightened my entire life. And then they whipped me, over and over again to the point I could no longer stand, the only thing keeping me up was the rope. My dress became soaked with the blood from my wounds and so did the wooden floorboards beneath me. I eventually fell unconscious from the pain, it was too much for me to bear. I was left there for the remainder of the day, left as an example of what happens to those who betray Zeus. When my uncle Hades, Athena, Artemis and some of my other siblings heard what had happened, they rushed to my aid, enraged at what was done to me. Athena and Artemis took me in to their home and tried to tend to my wounds there, but they had already festered. I came to find out later that the rope they whipped me with was laced with a poison so that my wounds wouldn’t heal properly, so that they’d remain to be a constant reminder of my actions.”

The men were silent as you finished telling your story, their faces only fitting the description of horror as they tried to process the inhumanity that was inflicted on you by the very people you trusted. They couldn’t bring themselves to give you words of comfort. No amount of words and speeches could help you or undo what was done. The men’s hearts wrenched as they could almost share the pain you had felt. If your father wasn’t already dead, they would have killed the scumbag himself. Bucky had hugged you in that moment, letting you cry into his shoulder as Sam had come over to you as well, wrapping his arms around you as he hugged you from behind. You sat there engulfed between Sam and Bucky as you cried, your tears and your confession representing the weight that was now lifted off your shoulders. You no longer had to hide the scars, your story was told. Zemo still stood by the kitchen, his knuckles white from gripping the counter, his face turned in the opposite direction. One look at you would tear him apart, he would drop everything and rush over to you this instant to be able to hold you in his arms. He’d let you cry onto him forever if need be. You didn’t deserve that, you didn’t deserve any of it.

You went for a stroll that night after the sun had set. Bucky and Sam offered to accompany you due to the state you were in but you declined. You needed to be alone for a while. Retelling your story still rattled you as if you had relived that moment once more. You headed off to the nearest park, laying down on the grass as you stared up at the night sky. The cool wind brushed against your cheeks like an icy caress as you closed your eyes, the blades of grass tickling the sides of your face, losing yourself in your surroundings before the faint sound of footsteps against the soft grass interrupted you. You sat up, turning your head to see Zemo standing behind you.

“Zemo? What are you doing here?”

“Thought I might join you, if you’d allow me.”

“...............sure.” You watched him from the corner of your eye as he sat down beside you, wearing that fur collared coat of his. You pulled your knees up to your chest, clasping your hands together at the front before staring off into the distance.

Zemo’s eyes flickered over to your profile, studying your facial expressions and the hollowness that was held in your eyes. He still could not get your narrative out of his head, wincing at the image of the excruciating pain and anguish you must have felt at the time. He could not imagine what your back must of resembled in that moment. He wished he was there, so that he may have rescued you and went after those who ever dared to do you harm. “So, what brings you out here?”

“I wanted to see the stars. I heard there might be a meteor shower tonight.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, surprisingly. Still a bit unnerved, but I’m think I’m doing better.”

“I’m terribly sorry about what happened to you. It should never have occurred in the first place.”

“Don’t apologize, you had nothing to do with it.” You sighed, shivering as a strong breeze passed through you.

Zemo noticed your movement and turned in your direction. “Do you need my coat?”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine.”

You watched as Zemo slipped off his coat before leaning over to drape it around your shoulders. You averted your eyes from him and turned your head away from how close he was. You shivered once more, but this time from his warm breath that grazed across your cheek as he adjusted the fur collar so that it fit snug around your neck and head to provide you with as much comfort as he could. The way he handled you so tenderly made you blush, as if you were a delicate rose, a precious gem that if held incorrectly would be considered a crime, a disgrace to your existence. Then there it was again, that cologne of his that had you feeling a certain way. You could still smell it off him, and now that you wore his coat, the sharp citrusy and spicy scent completely engulfed you as if you had been transported back to the markets of the ancient empires. Zemo gazed down at you from where he was seated, you didn’t even have to look up at him to feel your face heat up, that’s how much of an effect he had over you. The way he looked at you made you feel vulnerable and small. You were the goddess of witchcraft, and yet, here you were, completely bewitched and transfixed by him as if he had cast an enchantment over you.

“Schatzi.” Zemo whispered as he gently laid a finger under your chin to bring your face to him.

You stared at him with wide eyes, hidden behind a veil of sorrow and regret along with your aching and yearning heart. The Wakandans would have him soon, then you might not ever have the chance of seeing him again. It was now or never. “Zemo I.......I want to apologize for that night. I’m sorry if I offended you. I didn’t-“

“Schatzi.” Zemo held your face with both of his surprisingly soft pampered hands as he caressed your cheek. “There’s no need to apologize. I would never wish for you to be uncomfortable.”

“Why? Why are you so kind towards me? Don’t you hate the avengers, people with unordinary abilities?” You questioned, desperately wanting to know why he treated you with respect, despite his moral compass in regards to super soldiers and such. You would’ve conjectured that you would be on his list of people to eliminate.

“Because.” Zemo stopped to push a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have shown nothing but kindness to those around you and to my people. When I first saw you, you struck me as the silent and menacing one, you spoke very little and I thought you to be dangerous. But then I saw what you did after the attack from Ultron, how you stayed behind to help clean up what was left and find any remaining survivors. Your efforts towards my country will not be forgotten. You have a beautiful and caring soul y/n, one that shines brighter than any I’ve seen. After all that you’ve been through and all that you have done, you too deserve kindness in return.”

You smiled at his words, placing your hands on top of Zemo’s as he still cradled your face. You turned your head slightly to place a soft kiss to his wrist, eliciting a small gasp from his lips. The two of you had been touch deprived for so long, without a single soul to hold and kiss, that a small action such as this was enough to send you both over the edge. You gazed into his eyes once more as you placed your hand against the side of his neck, your eyes trailing down to his lips as you traced the smooth shaven skin of his jaw with your thumb. Zemo felt his heart stop in his chest from your gesture and the way you looked at him. You looked absolutely ethereal, wearing his coat and sitting in close proximity of him under the stars, the moonlight making you radiant in parallel to the the silver orb itself. Your heart palpitated in your chest, nearly breaking out of your rib cage and becoming the only thing you could hear as you finally mustered up the courage to do what you have longed to do.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned in with your lips slightly parted as Zemo did the same, your noses grazing against each together like the fallen leaves caught in the winds of autumn as you rested your foreheads together. Your breathing quivered, your body trembling from the sudden forethought of what was to come as the two of you hovered not even a centimeter apart, your lips brushing against his as your faltering breaths fanned each other’s faces, both of you too tense to make the first move. Zemo pulled away unexpectedly, causing your heart to drop and leaving your face to the coldness of the night air, which made you knit your brows together. Zemo chuckled softly at the disheartened expression that marked your features before tilting his head towards you once again, his hands never leaving the sides of your face as he pressed a feathery kiss to your forehead and each of your closed eyelids, placing another to the rounds of your cheeks, and lastly the tip of your nose as if he was mapping out what he found beautiful about you, before pressing his lips to the area you most desired them to be.

You gasped at the touch, both of you equally startled from the intimate gesture and your bodies rigid before melting in the kiss you shared. The kiss was innocent and sweet, bringing about a warmth that flowed through your veins like the rays of the sun on a warm summer day. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart beneath your palm through the fabric of his turtleneck. His lips were firm, yet soft and warm and the taste of expensive wine, cherry blossom tea, and Turkish delights still lingered on them. Zemo barely moved against the chaste kiss, luxuriating in the taste of your lips, the traces of coffee, caramel, dark chocolate, and pomegranates left him fully succumbed to your touch, not wanting to overstep your boundaries and allowing you to be the one to made the decision. The two of you remained motionless, frozen in time, resembling baroque marble statues sculpted by the hands of Gian Lorenzo Bernini. You compelled yourself to separate from his lips after what gave the impression of being an entirety of lifetimes, but, be that as it may, it had only been a matter of seconds. A soft smile formed on the curves of your lips as you gazed up at him with flushed cheeks, releasing the breath you had caged in this entire time before reconnecting your lips to his once more.

Your hands made their way up to wrap around the back of his neck, softly grazing the hairs on the back of his head while his slipped down to the curve of your back, pulling you gingerly to him as your chest was pressed flush against his. The smell of Zemo’s fresh citrusy cologne and your warmer, darker perfume reminiscent of castles, vampires and the Victorian era, merged together to create an aroma one would only describe as intoxicating. The kiss became more passionate, more ardent as you molded into each other like melted candle wax, as if you had been designed specially for each other as would a lock and key, it was absolutely breathtaking. You couldn’t resist the soft, sighing moan that escaped your lips from the feeling of serenity that washed over you, a sensation similar to that numbness that swept over your body right before you entered a deep state of sleep. The way your lips moved against one other and the way you held on to one another as if you’d wake up the moment you let go, wasn’t so much provoked by a desire for lust, but rather a cavernous desperation for the ability to feel, a craving for sentiment, to be able to find worth and significance buried in your souls within the walls of this hollow world. But more than any of these, this kiss was your way of professing the deep affection you held for each other, a testament to the sparking of the forging of your souls.

You broke the kiss after what felt like an eternity of euphoria, pressing your forehead against Zemo’s as you caressed the line of his jaw, a soft smile formed on your lips as your hearts now drummed in sync. You thought you could never feel such a thing again, that to be able to hold and kiss someone again would be impossible, you were incredibly wrong, and you had never been more happy about it. Zemo was left breathless, scrambling to put his mind together since he couldn’t process a single thought after what he experienced. Kissing you was unlike anything he had ever felt, he could only describe it as otherworldly, transcendent. How someone like you, a goddess, a princess, could ever manage to return his feelings, he would never know. But there was one thing Zemo was sure of, he could never grow tired of the moments spent with you. Truth be told, it only left him yearning for more. Zemo pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before pulling you down to the grass with him. You let out a quiet giggle from his actions, pulling Zemo’s coat closer to you and interlacing your fingers with his as you laid your head on his chest, your ear pressed up to where his heart was. Zemo’s arm was wrapped around you, his fingers brushing your back tenderly, feeling the ridges of your scars as he traced them with his fingers through the fabric of your sweater while you listened to the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat. The two of you stared up at the stars and constellations, watching how the night sky lit up with the meteoroids that entered the earth’s atmosphere, leaving behind trails of white and painting the skies in streaks of a celestial waterfall. You hadn’t spoken a word to each other yet, you didn’t need to. Being in each other’s presence was enough. Your gestures of affection that you had just shared with each other, already voiced whatever words you had been meaning to say.

Tag List: @Little-baby-vixen @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @awhorewithissues @thehornyles @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @Gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky @mylifeispainandiloveit @fillechatoyante @padmoonyfeorge @montypythonsholysnail @pollynx @aziraslowlylosestheirshit @roundbrownlover @awesomeowlbook @bookloverfilmoholic @hargreevesd @death-is-beautiful

[pamgkrthwrites]

Flame of Healing | EraserMic x Reader | Chapter 10 - Kurogiri

Masterlist | AO3

Warnings:  Kyudai Garaki, Mnaga Spoilers, Grooming of a Child(not Child Grooming), Abuse of Power, Abuse of a Corpse, Mentions of Murder, Brainwashing, Memory lose, Abusive thoughts towards Reader.

Word Count: 2032

Taglist: @stargazingaloneatnight @rinzyx05 @uselesssapphickitten 

AN: Hey before we start, I know Kyudai Garaki has been very triggering for Chinese MHA manga readers. His name only gets stated once and the rest of the time he is simply referred to as "doctor". I don't know If I have Chinese readers, but I am aware of how his name alone has affected those fans and I want them to know I understand and therefore will not be using that name when referring to him. 

Now, on with the fic!

I hope y’all can see that this chapter will be coming from Kurogiri’s point of view. If any of the warnings are an issue for you I do want you to know this chapter is not a must needed chapter to read. I just wanted to explore some issues relationships regarding Shigaraki. 

Upon first waking up, Kurogiri felt strange. He didn’t know where he was or who he was, He felt keep guilt in his heart yet he had no idea as to why. All he could feel within his heart was a loss of an attachment. 

“It’s awake?” Said a man’s voice.

Kurogiri looked at where the voice came from and saw a man with white hair and red eyes who stood at 234cm tall. The man next to him was noticeably shorter, had no hair on his head but had a big moustache and wore big goofy-looking glasses.

The shorter man responded. “It seems so. He also seems to be doing better than when he first woke up.”

“Agreed.”

First woke up? Wasn’t this the first time we woke up?

The taller man walked towards him, looking down at Kurogiri. “Do you remember anything?” He asked.

“No.” Kurogiri answered.

“Good.” The man looked deep into Kurogiri’s eyes with a creepy smile on his face. His eyes seem to glow either from quirk use or maybe he just looked evil. A feeling in Kurogiri’s gut made him want to fly away and run somewhere. He didn’t understand these feelings. “You will do everything I command you to do. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” Kurogiri answered.

Kurogiri felt as if he was split in two. One who controlled the stage and was the main everything while in the back of his mind locked away in a box was something telling him to stop.

Even if he could fear it, it was not the main player and therefore it didn’t matter.

“Your one and only mission is to look after and protect my son, Tomura Shigaraki.”

“Yes, I understand.”

The doctor cleared his throat. “We should give it a name, sir.”

“Yes.” The white haired red eye man agree. “You’ll name will be Kurogiri, while you shall call me Master.”

Kurogiri nodded his head. “Yes sir.”

This is the only life Kurogiri will know, and should knows.

Yes. This is correct.

---

“This is my son, Tomura Shigaraki.” The man introduced. “Tomura, this is Korugiri, and he will be your caretaker when I am away.”

Kurogiri looked down at the 7 year old boy with light blue hair and red eyes, looking so much like his father besides his skin conduction on his face, more noticeably around his eyes. The boy also had hands wrapped around different parts of his body.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Tomura Shigaraki.” Kurogiri said as he walked closer up to the small boy.

The boy made a face before speaking. “You look like some hero wannabe.”

Kurogiri looked at his clothing, not aware of it earlier. He didn’t understand it himself though it felt as if he knew every pocket of said outfit.

The purple flame man turned his full attention to the boy, kneeing down to be on the same eye level. “Is there something you would rather have me wear?”

The boy looked puzzled at first, but then was in deep thought. The boy soon grabbed Kurogiri’s hand and lead him somewhere. “Yes, but first we must make sure it fits on.”

All For One watched as Tomura lead Kurogiri away. Once the two left the room he turned to the doctor.

“Do you think we will be able to make them… Less human, doctor?” All For One asked.

The doctor turned to his master with an evil smile. “Oh yes, sir! We can do more than that!”

“Alright, you then have my full blessing to continue this project of yours, Doctor.” All For One stated. 

“If I may ask sir, why did you give away the Nomu to the child?” The Doctor asked. “We could’ve used the Nomu to defeat the current One For All Quirk Host!”

“It’s more of a back-up plan doctor.” Said All For One. “Just like how your Nomu’s will be part of my back up plan.”

The Doctor was confused by All For One’s answer. “What do you mean backup plan my lord?”

“You must always plan for if your first plan fails, doctor.” Said All For One. “I have many moving parts under my belt. You are aware of our planned attack on this All Might, but you are also part of the main back up fail if I get gravely injured. I am… Preparing Tomura to be my next host body either for myself or my quirk if that happens. Kurogiri will now be a part to make sure the body stays intact, ready for my use.”

Upon realising of his master’s plan, the doctor’s face glowed up in happiness. “Oh Master! You are so smart! I am sorry for doubting you!”

“It does not matter to me doctor.” All For One scuffed. 

Another reason I picked Tomura was because he looks so much like my beloved brother… All For One thought to himself. If only that idiot learnt how student his ideals where.

All For One shook his head, making the memories of his late brother leave his memory. His only focus was to defeat those enemies who wish to bring him down, which was All Might.

---

Over the 3 years Kurogiri looked after Tomura, Kurogiri became very attached to Tomura. He culdn’t help but see Tomura as his own son, even if Tomura did not see Kurogiri as the same.

The tiny voice at the back of his head also became more quite, barely ever speaking. Even then , Kurogiri learnt how to tune the voice out. As if he would care what that voice said.

Well, that was untilt eh day he finally caved into Tomura begging to go outside. Tomura wanted to see some gaming cafe. It was agonist the rules All For One had set for them, but Tomura had been begging since his 10th birthday earlier in the year, and Kurogiri caved to the constant begging. 

Tomura was guilding Kurogiri to where they where heading, approaching the corner rather fast.

A woman walked straight into him.

Kurogiri was unbothered on the woman bumping into him, though he was more worried this woman would harm Tomura or him. He could’ve listened to the Master, he shouldn’t have let Tomura leave the stronghold, they should’ve stayed still.

Then, he heard your voice.

“Oof!”

Everything stopped inside of him. He looked down at you, recongising you.

Y/N L/N? The once silent voice in the corner of his mind spoke up. 

He felt everything in his body been drawn to you. Even if he didn’t act on it. He felt a need to ask if you were alright, to ask if you were okay, to ask how you’ve been, to help you up. He wanted to protect you.

However, the dark shadow in his mind sat the small voice back down, shutting it him. 

You stepped back from him, rubbing you head before looking up at you.

Gosh I’ve missed her eyes. As beautiful as ever. Said the small voice.

Shut up! Said the dark shadow.

“Sorry about that sir.” You said with your sweet voice. He felt so drawn to you. 

He should apogoise to you. It was his fault. He shouldn’t had been walking as fast.

His thoughts were stopped when you looked at Tomura who was standing behind him. 

Tomura. Tomura was more important than you. Tomura, Tomura Shigaraki.

He fell back into the mindset he has been in for the past years. Yes, that’s right. He didn’t know who you were, but you needed to get away from him and Tomura. You were just some worthless nurse from the looks of it. You as previous as Tomura was, the adopted child of All For One. You probably sided with filthy heroes, the same heroes like All Might who reduced the powerful All For One to a death bed.

You were nothing to Tomura and therfore, you meant nothing to him.

“It’s alright.” He said bluntly.

He was not going to give up anything to you, you filthy hero supporter. How dare you set your eyes on Tomura.

You walked past him, giving him nor Tomura the time of day.

The silent voice was screaming out to you, that annoying thing.

How dare it look out for you. You were nothing.

“You seem like you know that person, Kurogiri.” Tomura said, breaking Kurogiri from his thoughts. 

He turned to watch you walk away.

Did, did he know you?

The silent voice seemed to know you, but did him, Kurogiri, know you?

No, he didn’t. 

And so, why should be care what happens to you.

“I don’t remember her, but I feel as if I know her from somewhere.” He answered honestly to Tomura.

Kurogiri wasn’t going to be honest with himself sure, but to Tomura or All For One? Never.

Tomura scoffed. “Maybe she is your soulmate or something.”

Everything in Kurogiri’s body stopped. Soulmate? No, no he didn’t have one of those. He knew that much. But the mere thought of Soulmate seemed to bring a deep pain to him. He had a feeling it had an relation to you, but he didn’t know why. 

“...I do not think I have a soulmate, Shigaraki.” Kurogiri answered the non question.

“Hmmm. I don’t have one either.” Tomura  replied.

Kurogiri self sad those words. The world could feel lonely when one walks around with no soulmate, he knew that. 

“Anyway, about that place I wanted to go to Kurogiri.” Tomura said, bring kurogiri out of his head.

Yes, he needed to focus on Tomura, not someone of the likes of you or his past. Tomura Shigaraki was the only thing that mattered. 

---

All For One turned to the doctor. “What do you mean by they left?”

“They have seemed to have left the strong hold my lord.” The doctor answered his master.

“And why did it take you so long to notice they were gone?” All For One yelled at the doctor.

How could Kurogiri fail to listen to his order? This hasn’t happened before. Did the filthy Nomu get too attached to Tomura?

“I got an alert the nomu’s brain patterns were going off like crazy sir.” The doctor answered. “I checked the camera to see what could possibly have caused this issue and could not find him nor the child in the stronghold. All I can guess is that he saw either a place or someone who use to mean a lot to him before he died.”

All For One gripped his hand down. “Is there a way to fix this?”

“Making sure he stays away from those people or places as long as we can and deeper brainwashing is my guess my lord.” The doctor answered.

“We will have to do that then.” All For One answered with a sigh. “For the rest of the nomu’s, make sure their loved ones are killed so this can’t happen in the future.”

“Should we do the same with the Kurogiri nomu?” The doctor asked.

“No. He went to UA, meaning his close ones are either heroes or have connection to heroes. It would be too big of a risk. We are trying to keep me alive while pretending I’m dead. We can’t give it away that I didn’t die yet.”

The doctor nodded his head. “Understood sir.”

The doctor turned and made his way to the door before All For One stopped him.

“Doctor, where are you going?” All For One stated loudly. The doctor turned and saw how angry All For One was. “We are not done yet.”

The doctor gulped and smiled. “I’m sorry sir.”

“Bring Kurogiri and Tomura here to me as soon as possible. They both will be deeply punished for not following my orders. And so will you doctor, for not picking up on it earlier.

The doctor had a cold sweat on his back upon hearing his master’s words.

“Y-Yes sir, I will do that. My deepest apogosies my lord.” The doctor bowed to his master. “Is that all?”

All For One frowned. “Yes, you may leave.”

The doctor bowed again, and left the room as fast as he could.

What did her get himself into?

[mysoftboybensolo]

The Alienist and the Soprano

Chapter 6: The Disturbance

A/N:  This was inspired by Laszlo’s love of opera and my thought on what if he fell for an opera singer. Multi chapter. Canon divergence, there is no Mary Palmer here (I loved Mary and Laszlo, so I don’t feel like I could have her here and have him be with another woman). A mix of show and book canons. No Y/N, OC named Evelina Lind.

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32029150

Pairing: Laszlo Kreizler x Fem OC!

Summary: The last thing Laszlo Kreizler ever expected while investigating the death of children was to fall in love, and with an opera singer no less!

Warnings: Age gap, a child is harmed, creepy break in of apartment.

Special shout out to @arizemo​​ for giving me encouragement to continue to write when I felt like giving up. You were the best and this is dedicated to you, even though I know you haven’t seen the show.

The sky didn’t look as promising as Laszlo had hoped, and was grateful that one of the staff members insisted that he’d bring an umbrella just in case, but he could swear that when he saw Evelina, the day seemed brighter and to him, there weren’t any clouds. “Good morning, Miss Lind. I trust you had a good night’s rest?”

“I did, thank you. I have not had the pleasure of walking this park yet, thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course, shall we?” He asked, gesturing with his umbrella, making her chuckle. For a while, they walked side by side, exchanging pleasantries, Laszlo pointing out the different birds, even the ones he couldn’t see but only hear.

“My goodness, you do know everything!” she laughed.

“When I was in college, I studied ornithology first, not quite sure what I had wanted to do, but then I had come to realize that psychology was even more fascinating to me. That was when I had met Moore and Roosevelt, I suppose they are the longest kept friends I have. This was in ‘77, so nearly twenty years.” He faltered for a moment, then said, “That must make me sound very old, doesn’t it?”

“Old? Nonsense, age was what you feel. Do you feel old? You don’t look it, if I may say. You are lean and fit, and you keep yourself in good condition.”

“I’m middle aged, Miss Lind.”

“Silly word. You are a man of the hills.”

“You may tease me as much as you wish, but I cannot help my age.”

“Your age?” she asked, surprised. “I never dreamed-” she stopped herself. I never dreamed that you’d ever think yourself as old, was what she would have said, but she saw the shadow in his eyes and decided to not further probe the topic. “You know,” she says, “It has come to my attention, that you still refer to me as Miss Lind. I believe we have come to know each other long enough to move past formality. Don’t you think?”

He paused to think and realized that she was right. They have known each other for a little over a month, and certainly their introduction was under a certain case of duress that helped bring them closer together. “I-I suppose so. It would be nice to hear you call me by chosen name.”

“Very well, Laszlo.”

Oh God, he thinks, how wonderful it sounds! As they walked, they passed a pair of ladies who stared at them with contempt and made a gesture of turning their noses at them, silently but effectively showing their distain for the pair.

“Do you think that was for me?” Evelina asked, trying to keep her voice light, though she was hurt by the gesture.

“I am certain that was for me. I am not the most well-liked man, and my profession is as frown upon as…” he paused, fearful he’d offend her.

Evelina smiled and nodded understanding. “As an opera singer. It’s alright, it can be said. A month ago, I had difficulty bearing the judging stares and snide comments, but I like to think I developed a thicker skin to bear it, even though it still hurts. I am sure they don’t bother you anymore, the comments on your profession I mean.”

He stopped completely then says, “Evelina, this is wrong.”

She looks at him incredulous. “What is?”

“That I should take up the time and friendship of…of someone so young and good as you.”

She sighed and grinned. “Oh, Laszlo, I am so glad I’ve met you.”

Now he looked at her incredulously. “But why?”

“Well, that’s just it. I am not sure why. I never met anyone that surprises me as much as you do, and yet, someone that I feel I truly understand. And the young ones are so boring. I am never bored with you!”

He huffed out a smile, shaking his head. “I didn’t think I was at all interesting.”

“Of course, you are! You put on this air of being steely cold and distant, but really, you are gentle and kind, and warm.”

“Do not be mistaken, I am nothing more than a cold, aging alienist.”

She shakes her head. “That’s what you try to make people think. And I know why. I may not know the details, but I know you did not have a happy childhood, and it made you feel as though you had to protect yourself from the hurt, but it also stops you from the joy you want.” Looking down at her gloved hands, which fiddled for a moment, she said looking back up, “Now, I told you why I like you, it’s your turn to say what you like about me. You do like me, don’t you?” She asks, her voice soft as she hoped she wasn’t wrong.

He speaks not a moment, then says, “Yes, I like you, very much. I like…that I feel safe with you. It’s a feeling I’ve not had much in my life. You make me think and smile, and, want to live.”

Evelina smiled and her eyes tender. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you, Laszlo.”

“And I-I’ve never met anyone quite like you.” He feels his heart race at her words, those blue eyes filled with an emotion that no one ever gave him before, and it filled him with many different emotions.

“Laszlo?” A voice breaks the moment, making Evelina and Laszlo turn to see where the voice came from. Approaching them were two young men, one tall and slim with a cheery disposition and the other a few inches shorter and sturdier with glasses. “Laszlo, we may have a lead!” spoke the sturdier man, who sounded quite excited.

“Oh, forgive us,” the slimmer man said, “We hadn’t meant to intrude.”

“Gentleman allow me to introduce to you, Miss Evelina Lind. Evelina, this is Marcus and Lucius Isaacson, they have been working with John, Sara and I on investigations.” Laszlo introduced them, pointing out to Evelina which man was who.

“Oh, yes, I do remember you. I recall Laszlo mentioning the both of you.”

“Likewise, Miss Lind. In fact,” Lucius spoke with a smile, “Laszlo has spoken of you on many occasions. It almost feels as if we know you.” Marcus gave a small but clear jab in the rib, making Lucius look at him in confusion.

Evelina blushed, pleased at the thought of Laszlo speaking of her to others. “Uh, yes, well,” Laszlo intervened, “Follow the lead and when we meet tonight, we’ll go over it. Good day,” his tone of voice may have been a bit curt, but it was understandable.

Marcus nodded and bid the pair a good day before guiding his brother away, trying to explain to him what it was they had interrupted.

Evelina felt her cheeks grow warm at the idea that she was talked of by Laszlo, that other people have heard him speak of her, she wasn’t just some secret friend he didn’t wish to be associated with. The soft rumble of thunder made them both look up at the gray sky and with a few drops falling, Laszlo opened his umbrella and held it over them both. Without thinking, Evelina had slipped her arm around his, allowing her to be sheltered more from the rain.

Laszlo gulped. Yes, he had escorted her a few times, he even escorted Sara, but how close her body was pressed to his side, the scent of rose and iris filling his nose, it made Laszlo feel like a schoolboy in the throes of his first crush. “Um,” he cleared his throat, “I should take you back home.”

As much as she was disappointed that the walk was cut short by the rain, she was pleased at the progress they had made. She felt certain that now with formalities pushed aside and the sharing of first names would lead to the next big step. But still, she was not certain. Did he just humor her since he had saved her and thought that she was a lonesome young woman, or did he have the same feelings as she did? His attitude at times made it difficult for her to decipher, but she wasn’t one to give up.

Reaching back her place, Evelina thanked him, and both felt the absence when her arm slipped away from his. But he had to return to the institute, and she had to be ready for rehearsals tomorrow.

Laszlo hurried back to the institute, and once he had returned, he noticed a group of children sitting on the floor along the wall, looking rather glum. “Oh, now why the long faces?”

“We were going to play outside, but then it began to rain, and sadly the children were very eager to go out,” Mrs. Gorenko, one of the teachers, explained to the doctor, helping him with his coat.

“Well, we can’t have disappointed children. I am sure that the great hall can be a perfect substitute.”

He smiled when he saw the children brighten up and exclaimed in excitement as they were led to the great hall to play. And as he returned to his office, he allowed the good mood to overcome him and he now smiled because of Miss Lind, or rather, Evelina. To say her name aloud was as much of a pleasure as it was for him to hear his name on her lips. Perhaps, he thinks, perhaps it is as he could hope it to be.

His mood was so high that he thought nothing could spoil this feeling, but a sudden crash and sound of children screaming broke his dreams. He got up and ran towards the sound, leading him to the great hall where children huddled in a corner, having been led there by Mrs. Gorenko.

He looked over and found Mrs. Gorenko knelt beside a crying child, his leg bleeding. Rushing over and falling to his knees, he looked at the child. “What happened?”

“I am not sure, doctor. We were doing our morning exercise, then suddenly, the window broke, and something flew into the room. Alastair tripped and his leg landed on the glass.”

“Check on the children, I’ve got him.” Mrs. Gorenko went to the other children, looking over them, while Laszlo examined the little boy’s leg. Alastair was only eight, smaller than the other boys, and it broke Laszlo’s heart to see him sobbing and shaking with fear. Other members of the staff came rushing in, wondering what the commotion was and came to help. Two of the nurses rushed over to Laszlo and they carefully carried the boy, rushing to the ward. “Get to work on his leg, he may need stitches,” he softly tells one of the nurses as he got up from the floor.

He went over and looked down at the little ones huddled, many of whom were crying, frighten by the disturbance. “Is everyone alright?” he asked gently and gave a quick scan over their persons. “Take them to their dormitories, no more lessons today for them, they’d have quite a shock as it is.”

Once alone, he inspects the window, followed the broken glass to where a large rock sat. Picking it up, he saw that tied around it was coarse yarn and a folded up piece of paper. He managed to slip the note out without tearing then opened it. The words sent a shiver up his spine.

I have my eye on you, Dr. Kreizler

John never got word from Laszlo to hurry due to great urgency, so when he arrived back home and received the message, he was quick to hurry right back out, despite his grandmother calling for him. He was led by one of the nurses to the big hall and his heart dropped to his stomach to see the sight. “Good God, Laszlo, what happened?”

Laszlo, who had been pacing back and forth, the look that John has seen many times of contained fury, and he knew it could not be good. “Someone threw a rock through my window, with this note attached.” He gestured to the note in his hands, stopped only to give it to John.

John read the note and he too felt his blood run cold. “Do you think it is the killer?”

“Who else? We must be getting close, if he could do such a thing. We need to get him before anything else happens.”

“Are the children alright?”

“Yes, for now. But,” his voice began to rise, “He intruded in their sanctuary. How am I supposed to explain to the children, that the one place they thought they were safe is no longer the haven they were promised? How can I take care of them if I can’t protect them from people like this?”

“We will catch this man, Laszlo, and all will be well.”

“You don’t get it, do you John?” Laszlo stopped pacing, yelling, “They came after my children! One of them got hurt, he may need stitches! What if the rock hit and killed one of them? My children were put in danger John, my children!” His voice cracked at the last words, forcing him to turn away from his friend.

John rarely ever saw Laszlo express an emotion that came from a place of caring, and it broke him to see how upset Laszlo was when a threat came to close, not to him, but to those he cares for deeply. John stepped up and placed a hand on Laszlo’s shoulder, gently, comforting. “We will get him, Laszlo. We will protect your children. I promise.” As much as Laszlo was touched by John's willingness to help, it did not ease his fears or disturbance.

But Laszlo was not the only one to be disturbed.

Going up the stairs to her room, Evelina hummed softly, thinking of the way he said her name, and stopped completely when she saw her door slightly opened. Her blood ran cold, and she carefully kicked the door open, but found no one there. Evelina looked about her room, nothing valuable was taken, but what sent a wave of fear over her was that her dresser drawer was open, and a pair of her knickers was missing. Her heart began to beat furiously and without thinking, she rushed out of the building and went to the first person she thought of.

Sara was shocked to say the least when she saw Evelina standing at his door, looking half out of her wits, desperate. “Evelina. What on earth?”

“I need help.”

She let her in and brought her to the drawing room, offering a whiskey, not thinking of how most women wouldn’t drink it. But Evelina gladly accepted it, downing the whole of it. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“My apartment has been broken into.”

“Oh my.” Sara sat beside her, offered a comforting hand. “Did they take anything valuable?”

“No,” Evelina said, and at first she hesitated, unsure if she should mention it, but then said, “They…they took a pair of my knickers.”

Sara stiffened, feeling shocked and a second hand fear. “What compels a man do to something so disturbing? Thank goodness you were not there, and that no one else was harmed.”

Evelina nodded, agreeing, but still shook. “I do not feel safe staying there. I am not sure what to do or where to go. Forgive me if I am a burden, but you were the first thought of when remembering our first conversation.”

“Not at all. I am glad you came to me.” Sara thought for a moment, then said, “If I came with you to your apartment to collect your things, would that make you feel better?”

“To collect my things?”

“Well of course. I can’t imagine you’d want to stay there much longer, so we shall have all your things brought here.”

Realizing what she meant, Evelina immediately began to protest. “Oh, I couldn’t dare ask. It is too much.”

“Nonsense. Even if you did feel comfortable staying, I wouldn’t feel right with sending you back alone. You shall stay with me for as long as you wish.”

Evelina’s eyes watered and she reached over to hug Sara, who at first was taken aback by the gesture, but welcomed it as she figured that Evelina was in need of comfort. “Thank you so much. I’ll pay you back,” she said, pulling away, “Whatever you’d like. I am not afraid of pulling my weight around here.”

“Really, it is alright. If the situation was reversed, I am sure you’d do the same. Now,” Sara stood, “Let us go and get your belongings.”

It was short work as Evelina did not have much, but Sara looked around the room, searching for clues, for anything to give a clue to who would do this. Whoever it was, knew how to return everything back to where things were, so he was smarter than your usual criminal. The sooner she’d get her away from this place, the better. Sara’s footman helped carry the trunk into the house and Sara brought her to the guest room. “You are free to stay as long as you wish. And I promise, I shall do what I may to figure out who did this.”

“No!” She quickly said, but then tried to explain, “I couldn’t drag you into this. What if this perpetrator is mad, a violent criminal?’

“It will take more than a pervert to stop me from helping you. Truly. And after all, if I intend to have my own agency to solve crimes, I will need the opportunities.” Taking her hands, she looked Evelina square in the eyes and said, “No woman should ever have to live in fear of being born a woman. And I meant what I said, we women must help each other. I am keeping my promise.” Giving a reassuring squeeze, she released her. “I’ll let you get settled in.” She turned to leave, but then stopped and turned back. “Oh, I nearly forgot. Tonight, a few men will be here to discuss a case.”

“You mean, John and Laszlo?”

“Yes, as well as the Isaacson Brothers. We are trying to solve the case of the murdered children. If you do not feel comfortable with the subject, you do not have to stay.”

“Thank you for the warning. At this point, there is not much I cannot handle.”

Evelina found herself situated perfectly and with enthusiasm hurried to join the gathering. All of them had arrived at the same time and were surprised to see an extra member of the group. “Evelina. You are joining us?” Laszlo asked, surprised.

“Evelina is staying with me indefinitely, so you shall see a great deal of her. And don’t worry John, I’ve already warned her of the nature of this case. No need to defend any ladies’ delicate natures tonight.” She teased, making him flustered. Evelina noticed and smiled, it was not difficult for her to see the attraction between the two.

“I shall get the tea,” Evelina offered, wanting to help as much as she could.

“Any news?” asked Marcus, as the team settled in their seats.

“Perhaps. Earlier today, a rock came hurling through a window of my institute, with this note attached.”

Sara took the note and looked at it. “Do you think he is closing in on us?” she asked as she passed the note along to the brothers.

“Who knows?” Laszlo said, taking the note back from Lucius once he was done examining it, stuffing it in his pocket, “But it unsettles me greatly to think he is close to my children.”

Evelina walked in at the last part and gave a quizzical look as she set the tray down. “Something is wrong with the children?”

“Thankfully no,” Laszlo answered, taking the teacup from her.

“Someone threw a rock through Laszlo’s window, we think it might be the killer,” Lucius filled in.

“No one was hurt, I hope?”

“One, he needed stitches, the others were just frightened, but they should never have been frightened in the first place.  Which is why it is imperative that we close in on this murderer.”

The evening passed in a feverish haze; Lucius and Marcus sharing their lead, everyone eager to work out the possibilities, and Evelina was there, trying to help keep things neat for them to work efficiently. She wished she was cleverer to help in their case, to actually do something worthwhile. But she also knew that any little bit could help them figure out why such a madman would want to hurt children in such a terrible way. Her eyes pricked with tears and she had to turn away at one point to dab her eyes with her handkerchief. At least the end of the evening seemed to be satisfactory enough for everyone had left with newfound hope and eager to start the next day. Laszlo and John were the last to leave. Evelina watched with amusement of how Sara and John danced around their feelings, and she wondered if she and Laszlo looked that way. She did sympathize with John, for he clearly adored Sara and Sara seemed to feel the same, but held incredible restraint from her feelings.

Laszlo didn't talk much around Evelina, as if company made him shy, as if everyone was watching him. But she understood, he no doubt had his mind on the case and he spoke her given name when he bid her goodnight, making her mind settle as she worried she offended him in some way. Both ladies retired for the night, and as Evelina laid down, she tried to wrestle with the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach. Will she really be safe with Sara? Should she tell the whole truth of what she knows?

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