#reader has powers

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Left Behind and Bleeding

Summary: you’ve been feeling forgotten all week when your period shows up you just want to curl up and hide. Will your girlfriends look after you this time?

TW: Angst, periods, being forgotten, anxiety, feeling left out, abandonment issues, self-doubt, mentions of drug use, teasing

Words: 1.2K

A/n: it’s that time of the month when I hit you with another period fic lol. Sorry it’s a bit short. Also … I may be projecting again … maybe hehe.

It had been a bad few days to say the least. To start off you had plans to hang out with Natasha, but she got given a last-minute mission, so you had to postpone. Which would have been fine on its own, but it seemed yo have sparked a pattern.

All week people had been cancelling on you, having some reason or another that seemed valid at the time but looking back made you overthink.

Wanda had some people she needed to visit, and you understood. But everyone seemed to be prioritising other things. Even your mother wasn’t answering your calls. Leading you to believe she was either dead or ignoring you.

On the fourth day of having nobody to hang out with in the usually very busy tower, you were getting fed up.

Your mind had been trying to spin a story that everyone simply didn’t like you. That they would rather hang out with other people and that you really didn’t have anyone in your corner.

Of course, you had been fighting the notion for days now, but it was getting harder to ignore as people continued to have bigger, better things to do without you.

Nat had gotten back from her mission and had immediately gone to do some training and after you caught her watching a movie with Clint. You had moped around your room all afternoon, feeling like you were a B-list avenger at best.

Your mind had convinced you that nobody cared and so you had spent the afternoon crying alone in your room.

When dinner came, it seemed everyone had returned. Something you had not been counting on, so your eyes were still red and puffy when Jarvis announced dinner.

In a panic you threw on some sunglasses in an attempt to keep the others from finding out.

Yet it had simply orchestrated a point of teasing for the whole meal. Everyone wanted to know why you were wearing them, but you kept your head down and tried to seem cheerful.

Sam was trying to convince people that you must have been high, while wanda could practically hear your loud thoughts from the other end of the table. Her and Nat exchanged expressions when you got up from the meal not even halfway through.

Feeling awful you almost cried when you got back to your room to discover your period had started.

Life seemed to be throwing more than a few curveballs at you, it was throwing the full field.

You stuck in a pad and threw on some warm pjs before crawling under the covers and letting a few tears fall while your breathing evened out.

Wanda had finished her dinner around the same time as Natasha had so, they had met up in the kitchen while washing their dishes.

“Wanda?” Nat asked from where she was drying her plate off.

“Yeah?” Wanda asked, her hands covered in suds.

Nat chewed her lip for a second before carefully selecting her words. “Was there … anyone off with Y/n these last few days?” Nat asked.

“I don’t know why?” Wanda said and Nat frowned.

“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’ werent you here?” Nat said.

“No? I told you I was visiting friends for a few days.” Wanda said.

“Oh my god.” Nat said feeling bad. “Did we both ditch her for a week?”

“No? I mean surely, she had the others to hang out with. Right?” Wanda said.

“Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling.

“Yes, Ms Romanoff what can I do for you?” The AI responded.

“Who in the past week has cancelled plans with Y/n?” Nat asked.

“In the past week I believe each of the avengers have been either ‘too busy’ or had ‘other plans’ to spend time with Ms L/n.” Jarvis said.

“Oh god.” Wanda said. “Jarvis? What has Y/n been doing this past week?”

“Ms L/n has spent most of her time in her room. Either sleeping or crying. She also has been avoiding everyone for the last half of the week.” Jarvis said and Wanda and Natasha’s hearts broke.

“We are the worst girlfriends ever.” Wanda said feeling awful.

“We should go check on her.” Nat agreed and the two of them headed for the lift.

When they stood outside your bedroom door Natasha hesitated for a second.

“What if she doesn’t want to see us?” Nat asked.

“Im sure she will, it’s Y/n. She may be sad but her hearts still twenty-four carat.” Wanda said and Nat nodded and knocked.

When no response came, she gently opened the door. Making out a Y/n shaped lump in the bed she entered and quietly walked over to your side.

Wanda took note of the chocolate wrappers on your bedside table and the hot water bottle you had cuddled up to.

You had seemingly used your powers to heat up the water-bottle and your brow was creased in pain.

“Nat?” Wanda said and Natasha nodded.

“I see.” She said.

Wanda sighed and slipped into bed behind you. Gently playing with your hair as Nat went to search for some pain medicine for you, knowing that you wouldn’t have taken any yet.

Wanda rubbed slow circles on your back and brushed a hand onto your cheek.

“Y/n baby, can you open your eyes for me my love?” Wanda asked softy. You let out a small whimper and Wanda’s heart melted.

“Wands?” You asked in a small voice.

“Yes, baby its me.” She said pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheekbone.

“Hurts.” You said softly and she nodded.

“Natty’s gone to get you some medicine.” Wanda said just as Natasha walked back in with some pills and a glass of water.

“Here you go my sweet girl.” Nat said as wanda helped sit you up, leaning into her side.

Nat passed you the medicine and you took it without protest, telling both girls just how bad you were really feeling.

“I’m sorry we weren’t here my love.” Nat said brushing a curl from your cheek.

“That’s ok. You had important things to do.” You mumbled into Wanda’s chest where you had buried your face.

“Baby girl, nothings more important than you.” Wanda said stroking your hair.

“Why don’t we put on a movie, and you can try and get some sleep ok?” Nat said gently and you nodded, shuffling over to make room for her on the bed.

Wanda used her magic to open the small mini fridge in the room and floated a pint of your favourite icecream and three spoons over.

“I got this for you before I left my love.” Wanda said with a smile passing you a spoon.

Natasha slipped in beside you and Wanda, passing you the remote you put on an episode of Parks and Recreation as you began to eat some icecream and cuddle.

After a few spoonfuls Nat stole the container, Afterall you have been making a mess. There was even icecream on your nose which wanda softly kissed away, making you giggle as you begun doze in the presence of your two amazing girlfriends.

[ambcass]

INVINCIBLE X MALE READER BRO IT COULD BE ANYTBING HERO X VILLAIN OLS IM CRHIGN MY EYES OUT

hello everypony. this is my brother. he decided to SPAM my inbox for a fanfic for his twink. as the amazing sister I am I will write smth for him (after 1.5 weeks of this sitting in my inbox) I'll make a pt.2 if u want

"No, it can't be. You can't be *villain name*." is the same thing every guy you've dated said after you told them about your secret. The truth is, the world classified you as a villain. Everyone watching the news considered you a cold, no-good killing machine.

Being a villain with telepathy, telekinesis, fire abilities, and mind-altering powers is never a good mix for anyone! Would you kill your ex's after finding out you're a villain? No, you cared too much for them. Altering their mind until you erase yourself from their minds and everyone they knew.

This time is different. You met a dorky-looking boy with slicked-back dark hair and blue eyes on your first day at Reginald Vel Johnson High School. You two had chemistry together, and the second you stepped foot in that class, he couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were so handsome in his eyes. He told William all about you every since! Crazy how much someone can be so obsessed with someone even without mind-altering.

Did you notice at first? No. Bad as feelings as you were, you could not give a fuck about Mark. He didn't interest you in any way until one day.

You were not in a good mood that day at all. Last night you were running off rooftops, trying to escape the hero in yellow and blue. You got away by creating a firewall and going into his mind, making him forget why he was there in the first place. This stunned him and you receive plenty of time to escape. The next, you got to Chem and sat behind Mark and William's lab table. You close your eyes and rest your head on the table while using your arms as support.

"*Name*? Him? The boy behind us?" William's words caught your attention. You looked up and glared at the two. Intrigued, you pretended to sleep. Keeping out for what they were about to say. Mark forcefully turned William's head,

"Noooo. Why would it be! You're so funny! hahaha," Mark grinned awkwardly. He grabbed William's face and spoke quietly but loud enough for you to hear. "Of course it's *name* you moron! Don't say it out loud-" You cut him off.

"Will you two stop talking about me?" you asked. Mark's face turned tomato red as he sank to his chair in embarrassment. Both William and Mark would look back at you but Mark would just stare at you, smiling. "Okay. Creepy...but he's kinda cute." You smiled softly.

Time past by and you couldn't stop wondering why they were talking about you! It's not like you actually knew them. Your eyes lit up as a idea was formed. If he wouldn't tell you, then why not find out for yourself. A smirk appeared on your face. "He wouldn't mind if I just- " Focusing on Mark's mind, you wonder why he's been staring at you ever since your first day, why he's talking about you like he's got some type of crush on you.

"I really like *name* but don't know how to tell him. He seems cool and I want to be closer to him but I'm scared he will shut me out... I have to tell him how I feel eventually. Right?" You're shocked. Lost for words even. Were you flattered? Maybe. It's been a while since you've been in a romantic relationship. This might be it.

A few minutes before class was about to end, an idea came to your mind. Why not give Mark some help confessing to you? Was it wrong? Yes. Did you care? No. You focused on his mind again. First, you thought of Mark confessing to you. Then, you sent it off to his brain. Lastly, you watch everything come into play. The bell rang and you packed up your stuff. Mark was lost in a trance while William was trying to figure out what was going on.

"Earth to Mark! Hellooo? Is anyone home?" You walked past the two without saying a word but stopped at the door frame. Mark snapped out of it and sprung up from his seat with a joyous smile. William raised his brows to an overly happy Mark. "Hey, are you okay-" William was cut off,

"I think I'm gonna do it, Will. I think I'll tell him how I feel."

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

**MASTERLIST**

Title board by the fantabulous @mochie85!

After an accident reveals your secret ability to kill with a single touch, S.H.I.E.L.D. tracks you down, turning you over to Nick Fury to be locked away. Immediately considered a Level One Threat, not a single one of the Avengers will listen to your pleas, until Loki, your least likely advocate, strikes a deal: he will take you away to New Asgard for one year to mentor you in the ways of magic, both dark and light. If you can pass a test at the end of said year, you win your freedom. If not, you may be deemed too dangerous to live.

With your life in the hands of the God of Mischief, you are forced to confront the mysterious pull of your morbid gift...as well as the even more mysterious pull you begin to feel towards your mentor, a being with his own demons to confront.

Pairing: Soft!Dom!Loki x F!Reader

Content Warnings: smut, extensive mentions of death, euthanasia, and death-related philosophy, some dark content (though the characters won't be), exile, moodiness, smut, kinks of various flavors (look for specific chapter warnings), trauma and mental illness, reader is a captive, reader has a body count

Based on THIS ONE SHOT

Prologue: Last Christmas Lesson One Lesson Two Lesson Three Lesson Four Lesson Five Lesson Six Lesson Seven Lesson Eight Lesson Nine Lesson Ten Lesson Eleven Lesson Twelve Lesson Thirteen Lesson Fourteen Lesson Fifteen Lesson Sixteen Lesson Seventeen Lesson Eighteen Lesson Nineteen Lesson Twenty The Final Test Epilogue: Next Christmas

@kats72 @violethaze @cheekyscamp @javagirl328 @yelkmelk @mischief2sarawr @buttercupcookies-blog @lokidokieokie @fictive-sl0th @jaidenhawke @caothicshit @holdmytesseract @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @meowmeow-motherfucker @huntress-artemiss @lokisgoodgirl

PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!

[straykidsnerd255]

I'll Be Your Man: WereWolf!BangChan x Female Reader

Pairing: BangChan x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff/Angst- Hurt/comfort

Song: Pray- BTOB

Rating: PG-13

Warning: Blood, fighting, Werewolf!BangChan, swearing, Reader can see extremely far distances and can use repulsive magic(She can hold her hand up and throw people away from her a great distance), Reader gets kidnapped and choked.

A/N: I will do eight different versions of this one-shot! Enjoy! 

Word Count: 3K+

The rustling of the bushes unnerved you. You had wandered into the forest behind your house, not realizing it would suddenly grow as dark as night. As you moved further in, a grunt sounded from your right. Snapping your head in that direction, you looked around, hoping to find whatever made the noise. You carefully pushed bushes and vines to the side and saw what looked to be a large dog lying on its side. You carefully move towards the wounded animal, trying not to spook it however its head snapped towards your direction, its eyes on you as you move towards the front of it. A snarl leaves its lips, but it doesn’t move.

You kneel in front of the animal before looking it over. Its breathing was labored as if it had been running for a long time. Your eyes scanned the animal from head to toe. “I need to get you back to my place. I can’t make out the severity of the wounds out here.” You mumbled, trying to find something to help you with the wounded animal. The animal, clearly understanding your words, slowly began to stand up. A whine left its lips as it began to limp forward. You moved closer to the animal(you found out it was a wolf once it stood) and followed it. 

Relief washed over you as you saw your little house. You quickly raced towards the door and opened the door once you and the wolf were near the door. After entering the house, the wolf fell to the floor and whined in pain. You threw your things to the floor before running to your bathroom and grabbing everything you would need. Returning to the living room, you notice the wolf looking up at you with half-lidded eyes. You carefully knelt on the ground and gently pressed your hands against its fur. In the light, you noticed the black fur was matted down with blood and dirt but was still soft to the touch. 

You stood from the ground and walked into the kitchen. You grabbed one of the large pans you had and filled with with hot water tolerable to touch. You bent down to the bottom drawer of the sink and grabbed a washcloth before returning to the living room. The wolf looked up and growled seeing the pan in your hands but stopped when water splashed out the side. You sat down and scooted closer to the wolf’s side. “Easy boy. I’m just gonna clean the wound on your side and bandage you up.” You said, gently scratching behind his ear. 

His tail started wagging before he grunted and touched your leg with his front paw before taking it back and lying on that paw while the other was outstretched. You took the electric razor and gently cut away the fur that surrounded the wound. Dipping the cloth in the warm water, you gently began to dab at the wounds. He hissed when a certain spot was hit but didn’t move otherwise. “And finished.” You said, wrapping the bandage around his middle. His tail started wagging once again and he looked up at you. You stood from the ground and stretched your limbs out. You looked down at the wolf and noticed a scared look in his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna send you away. You are injured and I have grown rather attached to you.” You mumbled before helping him up and getting him to your room. You carefully helped him onto your bed and watched him curl in on himself. He huffed tiredly before closing his eyes and falling asleep. You smiled at the sleeping wolf before turning around and quickly changing into pajamas. 

Around 2 am, you woke to the sound of your bed moving and creaking. You turned to your side and came face to face with a handsome man. You screamed and fell from the bed and you crowded yourself close to the wall. The lights turned on the man stood from the bed and looked around in what looked to be alertness. “W-Who are you?” You stammered out, looking a the man. “My bad. My name is BangChan, but you can just call me Chan. I was the wolf that you saved.” The stranger said. You narrowed your eyes but the bloody bandages around his stomach and sides proved his words. 

You slowly stood from the floor and walked towards him. “You…are the wolf….that I saved.” You said, moving closer to him. Chan nodded his head. He watched as your hands reached towards the bandages and winced when your fingers brushed against his skin. You drew your hands back like you just got burned and looked at him. “Sit down. I need to change them.” You said, rushing to the bathroom to grab the bandaids. 

Chan sat down on the edge of the bed and looked around your room. It had a desk that sat on the far right corner of the room, a TV stand directly in front of the bed, and a wardrobe that sat in front of him. It was basic for a bedroom. When you returned, he sat up straight and immediately lifted his arms. You carefully unwind the dark red bandages and wince at the state of the wound on him. “Who or what did this to you?” You asked, carefully putting ointment on the wound and wrapping the bandage around it again. You felt his body tense before sagging. 

“You don’t have to tell me.” You said. 

He squirmed on the bed before taking a deep breath and looking you directly in the eyes. “I want to tell you. I feel….I feel safe here.” He said. 

You blinked at his words before placing the leftover bandage aside and sitting next to him. He told you everything that had happened even the part where you had found him. You clenched your hands tightly when he mentioned his pack was still captured. You could see the fear in his eyes and agreed to help him look for them. You jumped when a popping noise sounded close to you and turned your head just in time to see Chan shift back to his wolf. His wolf was majestic. You had heard about werewolves but thought they were only myths. A fairytale even. You pulled on a jacket and grabbed a flashlight. 

Winter was right around the corner and you hopped and prayed that Chan would be able to find his pack in time. Opening the door, you and Chan stepped out into the cold autumn wind. You shivered but suppressed the urge to turn around and go back inside. Chan darted towards the opening of the forest before turning around and facing you. His golden eyes shone like beckons. You carefully jogged over to him and placed a hand on his head. 

You felt Chan lift his head closer to your hand before turning back to the forest. You stayed close to him as the two of you ventured into the dark. Chan suddenly stopped. You noticed the hair on the back of his neck stand up in alert. A deep growl left his mouth as he circled in front of you. His ears were flat against his head. You shone the flashlight in the direction he was staring in and gasped. Chan’s snarl turned to a whimper before he darted forward. “Chan!” You called out, chasing after the wolf. You almost lost sight of him a few times but he would always turn around when he needed to. 

What did you notice? You didn’t think you looked that far into the distance but running for five minutes proved your thought of not seeing far wrong. Before long, you noticed Chan sit down, his ears down and his tail lying still. You move closer and crouch next to him. Your hand reaches up to pet his head before turning to face him. “What’s wrong?” She asked. Chan reverted to his human set and carefully took your hand in his. He was scared. You could tell by the way his hand shook violently in your hold. 

“Chan?” You said, hoping to gain his attention. However, it didn’t. He continued to stare forward before lifting his free hand and pointing forward. You followed where he was pointing and noticed a bonfire. You squinted your eyes to see better. As if your body knew you were looking a far distance, your vision enhanced to the point it looked like you were looking through binoculars. You ignored it for the moment as you looked closer. Men were gathered around the fire and laughing. You could see wolves, covered in blood and favoring paws and legs tied up and in cages. 

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach as you turned to Chan. “My pack.” That was all he said. Your eyes narrowed in anger. Chan revered back to the wolf and lunged forward. Your eyes widened as you watched the massive wolf attack. However, it didn’t last long when a rope wrapped around his throat and yanked. Chan made a high-pitched choked-off whimper before thudding to the ground. A sharp hiss left his lips as he landed on the wound you had bandaged up. He hadn’t fully healed from the first wound on his body.

“Damn, didn’t think we would ever see this big guy again. He will fetch us a fortune!” one man said, grabbing Chan’s snout tightly. Chan snarled and tried to bite the man’s hand only to be kicked hard in the stomach. You felt your heart shatter and before you knew it, you raced into the clearing, you dropped in front of Chan and pressed your hand to his face. Chan’s eyes widened when you appeared in his line of sight. He tried to get you to move but couldn’t even move himself. He was in so much pain. 

“Well well well. Guess this big guy brought another friend along. Tie her up. We can see her along with those mutts.” The same man said, turning his back towards them. A group of men started walking towards you with a long rope in hand and menacing smiles on their faces. You, on instinct, closed your eyes and screamed. Chan’s eyes widened in shock when he saw what looked like a shock wave leave your body. It sent all the men flying away from the camp and extinguishing the fire. Opening your eyes, you noticed the fire had been put out and the men were nowhere to be seen. “Wha-” You couldn’t finish your sentence when you noticed Chan whining in pain. You quickly untied the rope from his throat before searching for your flashlight. You turned it on and looked around trying to find something you could drive back to your house. A sigh of relief escaped your throat when you saw the pickup truck you assumed the men used. 

You scrambled forward and opened the door. “Fools.” You mumbled out loud when you felt the keys in the ignition. You quickly started the car and grinned when it roared to life. You ran to the back of the truck and opened the tailgate. You lifted the back of the flashlight to your lips and bit down on it as you moved towards the cages. You crouched in front of the first cage you came to and felt your heart shatter. Chan walked over to you and leaned his weak body against yours. You felt your heart hurt for all of them. You and Chan (as much as he could) got the cages in the back of the truck. You made sure that everything was in place before closing the tailgate. Taking the license plates from the front and back, you tossed them as far as you could before climbing into the truck. You closed the door and immediately put the car in reverse. 

You backed up a bit before putting the truck in drive and slowly moving forward. Chan hissed when the truck jerked forward. You placed a hand on his head and you felt him lift his head to press closer to your hand.  “Don’t worry Chan. I’ll make sure to get them the medical attention they need.” You said flipping the truck around and backing up so the tail of the truck was covered by the garage. She turned the car off and helped Chan, who had turned back to his human, into the house. You swiftly managed to get the 7 injured wolves into your house and began working on them one at a time. Once all were bandaged, wrapped up, or even stitched up, you collapsed on the floor and fell asleep. 

{3 years later- You and Chan are in an established relationship now}

“HAN NO YOU CAN’T-” You flinched when the sound of a vase crashing against the floor was heard. Everyone went deadly silent as the tan wolf froze. His tail between his legs and his ears flat against his head in fear. You walked into the living room and found a vase you had been given by a friend sitting on the ground in pieces. You quickly grabbed your broom and dustpan and cleaned the mess up. “It wasn’t a really good vase anyway. It's alright Han.” You said, finishing sweeping and dumping the pieces in the trash. You placed a hand on the tan wolf’s head and ruffled the fur.

Han’s tail happily wagged behind him and he curled closer to her. Chan watched from where he was lying on the couch, bandage still wrapped around his middle. His golden eyes watched his pack getting along beautifully with the human that had saved them on that night 3 years ago. Slowly, Chan moved from the couch and walked towards you and Han. He nuzzled his nose against your neck making you giggle before placing a hand on his head and scratching behind his ear. 

You giggled before standing up. “Let’s go outside for a bit, it's sunny out and and quite warm for an autumn afternoon.” You said, walking to the back door and opening it. The wolves happily chirped their agreement before racing out the door. Chan made his way out the door before turning and looking at her. “I’ll be out in a moment. I need to clean the kitchen a bit.” You said, giving the wolf a reassuring smile. Chan nodded his head before heading outside. You left the door open a crack and you would later find out that was the best decision you had made. 

As you were cleaning the kitchen, a knock sounded at the door. Quickly drying your hands off, you walked to the door. Swiftly opening the door, you go to greet whoever is at the door but a strangled scream leaves your lips. Chan’s ears perk immediately and he’s racing into the house in human form. He tore through the kitchen just to see you get thrown into the back of a van, said van driving away fast. A snarl left his lips before he slammed the door and went back to the rest of the pack. 

The pack watched Chan pacing in a circle, his mouth in a permanent snarl, spit falling from his lips as if he was a starved, and bloodthirsty creature. His eyes burned red. “You were here the longest with her. You should have her scent all over you by now. You can track her.” Lee Know said, looking at his best friend. Chan snapped his head towards Lee Know with wide eyes. That’s right, how could he forget about that? He raced back into the house and went straight to her room. Sure he had her scent practically memorized, but he needed a boost. He pressed his nose into the comforter and inhaled deeply. Her scent always put him at ease. Allowed him to let his guard down.

He darted from the room just as the rest of his pack came back inside. They noticed the look in his eyes and looked at each other. “Let’s go.” was all Chan said before they darted from the house and ran down the street in the direction Chan had seen the van leave in. His mind raced as he remembered your gentle touches and the way you were careful when he and his pack were injured. He knew he needed to save you no matter what. You change his life and his pack's life for the better.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You groaned as you opened your eyes. Looking around, you noticed you were in an old warehouse. A headache formed in your head when you finally woke up.  You go to move your hands but hearing the clanking of the chains makes your entire body freeze. “Likes like you finally woke up.” A voice said, causing you to shake in fear. “What do you want?” You ask, trying to keep your voice steady. “You injured a group of my strongest men. So, I’m selling you on the black market. You have a special gift and it will make me rich.” The man said, stepping out from behind a pillar. 

You felt your heart sink to the pit of your stomach. The sound of screaming and gunshots rang through the air causing both you and the man to look towards the door. “BOSS!” A strangled voice called out. A loud growl rang through the silence and the deafening sound of bones snapping could be heard. The door opened to reveal Chan, covered in blood. His red eyes stare the man down, calculating his next move. You go to open your mouth only, no sound comes out. You try to breathe but it is restricted. You look up in a wild panic as the man’s grip on your throat tightens. 

You reach up and grab the man’s wrist in hopes that he would release your throat if you pulled but the lack of air was starting to get to you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as the man continued to choke you. Chan howls in rage. He was already fast but in his wolf form, he was much faster. You gasped for much-needed air as Chan bit into the man’s throat. A strangled cry left his mouth before everything went silent. Chan tore into the man, blood covering his black fur and his teeth. A crazed look in his eye. 

“Chan.” Your weak voice pulled him from the man in front of him. His eyes cleared and he immediately went to you. His human took over as his hands quickly wiped the blood from his mouth and face before pressing his hands against your face. “I am so sorry I let this happen. I should have been there with you.” Tears filled his eyes as he looked over you. You had a black eye, busted lip, and blood running down the side of your face. You looked like you had gotten in a fight much worse than it seemed. Tears filled Chan’s eyes as his fingers danced across the bruises that lined your arms, and neck. The chains on your wrists clinked every time you moved or he moved you.

You leaned forward when you had filled your lungs with air and pressed your lips to Chan’s. He immediately kissed back. His fingers tangled in your hair, before dropping to your legs. He gently squeezed your thighs in a form of comfort, both for you and himself. Pulling away from the kiss, he took deep breaths before leaning forward again. His lips locked with yours and a sigh escaped him. You giggled but returned the kiss. “Let’s get these chains off.” He mumbled, after pulling away from the kiss. 

Once freed from the chains, Chan lifted you into his arms and held you tightly. “I won’t let you go ever again.” He whispered as he walked towards the open door of the warehouse. The rest of his pack waiting patiently for him and you to come out. Minho’s ears perked when he heard family talking and heartbeats. You smiled at the other wolves and gently patted Chan’s chest to let him know you wanted to be sat down. He did what you asked but stayed close to you. You looked over each of the wolves before being pounced on by the two younger wolves. They curled up against your chest and whined. You giggled before pressing kisses to their heads. 

“I’m all right. I promise.” You said, petting their heads to the point the two felt their eyes growing heavy. You smiled softly before taking a deep breath. “Let’s go home.” You said, carefully standing up. The two younger wolves staying at your side. Shifting to his wolf, Chan stayed in the back while the rest were in front. You giggled at how protective they were being but you understood why they were acting this way. When you finally reached your house, you collapsed on the couch and took a deep breath. Chan sat next to you and wrapped his arms around you, having shifted to his human after entering the house. 

The others stayed as their wolves but laid around you and Chan. I.N the youngest of the pack, moved to your left and laid his head in your lap. His ears were straight up and his nose moving but he was content. His tail wagging happily behind him as you pet his head before moving to scratch behind his ear. You smiled softly before turning to face Chan. He was still tense but he had relaxed knowing they were back home. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your hands holding his hand before tracing patterns across the back of his hand. You felt your eyes growing heavy and you finally fell asleep. Content and above most all…protected.

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Hunting Roses - Chapter 1

AN: This is a yandere Helmut Zemo fic which means it will have dark elements as the story progresses. I do not condone relationships like this in real life. This fic takes place after Avengers: Age of Ultron and there are descriptions of canon typical violence. I'm not sure where this fic is going to go but I hope you enjoy the ride!

Helmut Zemo was not an ignorant man nor was he a greedy one.  From a young age, he knew that he had been born into wealth and as he grew older, he began to experience the obligations and expectations of being born into wealth.

In time, once he had completed his work in the Sokovian armed forces and as an EXO commander, one of these expectations was becoming Heike’s husband.  That led to his pride and joy, Carl Zemo being born.  Helmut and Heike both adored their son but as time grew, they realised that they had become different people.

While Helmut still cared about Heike a great deal, he knew that his feelings for her weren’t what they once were.  They agreed to stay together for Carl and to stop society’s tongues wagging.

Hearing whispers of an approaching battle and fearing for his family’s safety, Helmut moved them all to the country thinking that they’d be safe from harm.  A blast from one of the robotic sentries sent Helmut flying into one of the cottage’s walls and when he awoke, he found that the cottage had been reduced to nothing more than rubble around him.

Injured and weak, he staggered around the ruins of the cottage searching for any indication that his family had survived.  After two days of searching, he felt his strength leave him and he collapsed next to what was once the doorway.

A day later, Helmut awoke to see a face peering down at him.   His strength returned the instant that he learnt that his family had been rescued by SHIELD and taken to America.  Wasting no time, Helmut contacted Oeznik and they flew out of Sokovia that day.

For the first time in days (and under the watchful eye of Oeznik), Helmut ate and rested.  Once he felt he had sufficiently recovered, Helmut pushed himself to find out Sokovia’s fate.  He learnt that the battle had been started by an AI that Tony Stark had created, named Ultron. 

Helmut tempered his rage as he continued to study the battle, promising himself that Tony would pay for what he’d done.  Helmut watched the battle play out in the city, sneering at the Avengers’ efforts to save the people.

His curiosity peaked when an Avenger crouched before launching herself into the air and grabbing onto one of the sentry’s legs as it flew. The sentry tried to throw off its unwanted passenger but it was only successful in doing so after it had been badly damaged in mid-air. It crashed to the ground and the Avenger repeated the process three times before disappearing.

“How strange.” Helmut thought lacing his fingers together as Oeznik walked over to him with a tray of food.

Helmut rewound and paused the video just before the unknown Avenger disappeared, “Who is this Avenger Oeznik?”

Oeznik set the tray of food down gently, “This Avenger is known as Phantasm.  Reports state that there is more to her than meets the eye.  She also has a tendency to appear when needed.”

Helmut listened patiently knowing Oeznik wasn’t finished, “Many of the public only know her by her code name however if one is determined to dig deep enough, they would find that Phantasm’s real name is (Name) (Surname).  She appears to be close friends with Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton and if the rumours are to be believed, she was the one who saved your family.”

Helmut nodded and Oeznik returned to the cockpit.

It was too easy to land unnoticed in America.  Helmut’s diplomatic immunity ensured that and it was even easier to track down his family.  Helmut didn’t miss the unfamiliar distrustful look in Heike’s eyes as he inquired about SHIELD and Phantasm.  Sensing that any further questioning would cause Heike’s sudden distrust in him to grow, Helmut bid his family goodbye and as Helmut walked to the door with Heike and his father, Heike handed him a thick, yellow envelope.

“We can start again Helmut and choose who we want to be.” She said.

Helmut met his father’s stern gaze and watched as his father nodded once.

Pivoting on his heel, Helmut left the house and climbed into the car that Oeznik had brought him in.  His rage grew but then it gave way to his cunning as his brain reminded him that he was in the same place that the Avengers were in and he could have his revenge on Tony Stark.

Helmut shifted in his seat.  If he moved against Tony now, he ran the risk of you getting caught up in his plan.  Unless he broke apart the Avengers from the inside and ensured that you were protected as the Avengers imploded.

And with what they had done over the past few years, it would be too easy to sway the public into viewing the Avengers as threats.

“Old friend,” Oeznik’s familiar voice pulled Helmut from his planning, “There are reports of Wanda Maximoff damaging a building with her powers and killing several humanitarian officials from the state of Wakanda.”

Helmut crossed his ankles and leant forward as his mind whirred.  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at it contemplatively, “Oeznik, I need you to arrange a car for me.  There’s someone I need to track down after Thaddeus Ross has repaid the debt he owes me.”

[cambria-writes]

good morning! it is wednesday!

i remember writing this for the first time and feeling super giddy that i was finally getting to the core of the reason why every chapter was named after a different shade of yellow.

anyways give it up for chapter ten! for better or for worse we're actually more than halfway there!

word count: 2,557 rating: T, each chapter rated individually warnings: guns, active shooting, minor injuries, mention of kidnapping, oc being a fucking idiot, panic in darkness, let me know if i need to add anything else!

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𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕿𝖊𝖓: 𝔖𝔬𝔩𝔞𝔯

The contact feels like an explosion of light behind your lids. Like you're two steps away from a migraine, when everything goes white. You feel no pain. There is no discomfort. Only confusion, and excitement in it.

You don't get much more before you're pulled back into someone's chest. You scramble to find your balance again. Your feet feel disconnected from your body. Head feels too heavy. Hands feel almost numb. It still feels like the wind is trying to take your breath right out of your lungs. Do your best to cover your mouth. The piercing green eyes follow you the entire way, but the woman doesn't move. And you aren't quite certain why, with so little information, you know it's a woman.

"Skye."

The way she speaks your name sounds like the wind carries it. Soft, almost filled with static. Pulls the bandana down on her face. You see a tattoo on her neck, peeking out through the top of the fabric.

She only extends a hand out to you. Doesn't move, but doesn't say anything else. Doesn't seem to even hear Jane. Neither do you; whatever he's saying is buried by the sound of the wind, your thrumming heart and the sound of your name ringing in your ears. The spell breaks when you hear faint shouting behind the woman.

Mr Jane stops speaking. The woman freezes; there's a distinct change on her face. You notice now the crow's feet by her eyes and the deep grooves of smile lines by her mouth. She doesn't turn around. You have a second to decide what to do. You can feel the adrenaline flushing through your system. Your muscles tense. Though your body still feels nine kinds of too heavy, you begin to dig your feet into the sand-ground.

"Skye, don't," is what Jane whispers in your ear. The woman reaches for the beachwood door to pull it shut. You can hear clearly now. There is definitely a woman in there, somewhere, who does not want to be there.

The ground has too much give for you to properly dig your feet into it. You get no traction. Fight against the grip Jane has on you. His fingers dig into your upper arm, in your shoulder. Lose your footing and hand knees-first into the sand-covered ground. The door shuts against the stone with a deceptively quiet sound. Scramble for purchase in front of you to try and run toward it.

"If I don't—someone has to do something, Jane! You can't, and I—"

"You what? Have the powers of the Great Beyond to help you, Skye?" Jane's tone is cold and calm. The quip barely bothers you. That isn't what's important.

"I don't care! We're here and someone needs help! What was the point of coming here if we don't fucking do anything?!"

"The point was to learn, Skye! Not get yourself killed like an idiot!"

His outburst feels like a slap in the face. Only now you notice you're crying. You let out a frustrated shriek. Stand up, pace, pull at your hair. This is ridiculous. This is stupid. There is literally only something you could barely call a door between you and a crazy serial killer. She was caught off guard. You have the upper hand. You have the upper hand!

You pull your bag in front of you and rummage through it. Look for keys, pens, anything pointy or sharp to use as a weapon if you need to. Jane can see your train of thought. You know he doesn't like it. But there's something in his demeanor that makes you stop. Bring the strap of your bag over your head, and drop it to the ground.

"You have a gun." It's 99% a statement, but you aren't entirely sure.

"I'm not giving it to you, Skye."

"You don't have to!" You gesture wildly at the "door" behind you. "Come with me, for fuck's sake! Lisbon or whoever the hell is on their way won't make it here on time! That girl's probably already dead because of your stupid ass dithering!"

You feel the shame crawl up your spine like sludge. You’re acting like a child and you know it. Makes you feel like gagging, but you stand your ground. There's an iciness to Jane's eyes that you do your best to ignore. He pulls a pistol from the back of his waistband, cocks it, holds it like he knows what he's doing.

You hope he does because you sure as hell don't.

You dash toward the door and tear it off its pathetic excuse for hinges and run headlong into the swallowing darkness of the cliffside cave.

Several things happen.

First, it's dark. Miserably dark. You can't see anything in front of you. The air is surprisingly stagnant and each breath feels empty. You have no idea how anyone could navigate around without a ridiculously powerful flashlight. This makes you worry. You eventually remember to take out your phone and turn on the flashlight.

Second, there are clothes everywhere, and the cave looks hastily carved out. Rough edges everywhere, stones jutting out. You see roots here and there. But the clothes startle you most. Mostly  women's clothing, from what you can see, some dirtier than others. It unnerves you the most that there doesn't seem to be a speck of blood anywhere.

Third is the eerie calm. You can only hear your own breathing and heartbeat. You know Jane is behind you; his footsteps crunch in the gravel of the ground just like yours. But it's like sound can't reach you here. Like there's a giant buffer all around you that muffles everything.

None of this makes sense to you. There are no rooms here, no passages shooting into open spaces. The tunnel just keeps going and going. You walk for almost five minutes before you stop. You hear Jane ask you if anything's wrong before turning around.

"I heard a woman screaming from inside here," you state, looking around nervously. You point your phone's light at various spots in the walls around you, hoping to find an opening. There are none. "Where was she?"

Mr Jane frowns, and looks around himself in turn. You look up when he does. There isn't any exit above you, but were you looking up before? Could you have missed a drop-off like that before? Were you looking for one? You're about to suggest retracting your steps when you hear something like a twig snap. You freeze, halfway turned towards Jane. He puts a hand on your shoulder, slowly advancing in front of you. Not sure how you feel about him shielding you.

"Think quick," you whisper, putting a hand on Jane's back. "Age demographic of the missing women?"

"Eighteen to twenty four," Jane answers instantly. It's not ideal. And your plan is stupid. Ridiculous. You stay rooted for a second while you decide.

"How bad of an idea is whistling right now?," you ask in another whisper. Jane barely turns his head to look at you.

"Terrible."

Before you can reply, there's a metallic clang ahead of you. Far closer than you thought anything should be. You flash your phone on the ground. It looks like a narrow pipe. Maybe two feet long, a few inches in diameter. Walk ahead several feet to stand where the pipe landed. You point your light straight up into a shaft in the tunnel's ceiling.

A hiss and an arm cover a dirty face. The girl looks to be a few years younger than you. You swear, turn the light away. The shaft is at least two feet above your head, and several feet longer still. The girl peers down, looks close to tears. But she stays quiet.

The bitch of it is that there's no way any human being can pass through that narrow of an opening. You look at your phone screen to confirm: you have no reception in this place. Quietly swear to yourself again, turn to speak with Jane, but he's.

He's just gone.

Panic swells in your chest and makes it hard to breathe again. You try to calm yourself. Whisper your mantra of staying calm, breathing and focusing, but that barely works. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

"I'm right here," you whisper up to the girl. She nods. "I'm just turning the light off. I'm staying here." Run a hand to pull at your hair again. Turn the light of your phone off. You have 47% battery left and you have no idea how far that's going to take you here.

Look the way you came: pitch black.

Look the way you were going: pitch black.

Again, the only sound is your own heavy breathing and the drumming in your head. Try to pay attention to the sound around you for footsteps, but there's nothing. Walk back and forth several steps and hold your arms out to feel. Bump into a few jutting stones in the walls, but nothing else. Fuck. Okay, well, you asked for this. It doesn't make you feel any better, but holding someone accountable (even yourself) makes it a little easier to keep going.

Think quick. Okay. You got this.

You kneel and put your phone on the ground next to you. Untie the laces on both your shoes, tie them together. Tie one end around your phone. You do your best imitation of someone in contemplation in the dark. Take a deep breath. Turn the flashlight back on your phone. Call out to the girl.

"I'm going to try throwing my phone at you, " you whisper. Trying to stay quiet. Place yourself underneath the opening. If it had been just a foot wider... "Try and catch it. Try calling, okay?" 

The girl nods. You nod back. Okay.

You have one shot at this.

Take another deep breath to steady yourself. Turn the flashlight off, hit the power button so the lock screen comes to life. Bend down a little bit.

And throw the phone up as far and hard as you can.

You can hear the girl scrabbling in surprise. Screw your eyes shut, but you don't hear the familiar sound of an iPhone hitting the ground. You release a shaking breath. Okay, step one down. You have no idea how many more to go. You call out your lock code to the girl, ask her to call the first 916 number in your call history.

As you wait for her to follow your instructions, you hold your breath and pray to whatever's out there that she isn't caught. And that you aren't caught. You palm the keys in your pocket anxiously

You get choked up when you hear the girl begin to talk. You can barely hear her speak a few words before you hear the unmistakable sound of gunshots. You run away from the hole. You don't know if you heard your phone fall. Cover your ears against the resonating sound in the tunnel.

You scream when you feel a hand on your shoulder. And fight against its grip as hard as you can. There's crashing and shooting only a few feet above your head and you are absolutely fucking terrified. You calm down only fractionally when you hear a woman's voice, but stay crouched low to the ground with your hands on your ears. You're pretty sure you're sobbing. Not sure that the rocking back and forth is your doing; There's an arm across your back with a hand bracing your head, and an arm across the front of your chest pulling you sideways into him.

You can easily tell that there's a gun in the hand that isn't running fingers through your hair. You don't make much of it, though. Jane had a gun when he followed you.

It takes you a second to realize your vision is slowly being taken over by the light of a sun only you can see.

When Jane sees the missing girl's glassy eyes stare down the hole, he runs. He calls back to Skye, but can't take the time to make sure she hears him. He runs towards the opening in the cliffside, runs up the carved stone steps, runs through the house and out onto the street. Dials 911 as soon as his phone decides to give him reception again, and tells the dispatch exactly what's happening. Even gives them Lisbon's badge number, for all the good it'll do. Which probably isn't much.

That's when he notices that there's a car in the driveway that is Distinctly Not His. And it definitely was not there before.

Jane curses and rushes back to the house, but takes his time going through it. He'd looked it over quickly when he and Skye had walked through, but had ultimately been too preoccupied by her being right (about the house, the cliff and the steps) to properly investigate. It was obvious, now that he looked for it; a rug in the dining room that didn't quite completely cover some odd pattern in the hardwood flooring.

Pulling the rug aside reveals what could easily have been mistaken as a really terrible flooring job. Jane knows better. Pulls out all the drawers in the kitchen until he finds a butter knife. Wedges it between two planks and lifts.

It would have been the easiest thing for literally anyone else to miss, but that was definitely someone's attempt at hiding a trap door.

There are no stairs, there's no ladder. It's a straight seven foot drop, give or take a few inches. Jane makes sure the safety on the pistol is on before crouching down, and making the drop. The impact doesn't do wonders for his ankles, but he'll save the complaints for later.

The cellar-type room underneath the dining room is eerily similar to one he's been trapped in once before. Shakes the memory; don't have the time for it. Jane does his best to keep an ear out for any sound. It's the only sense he has in the pitch black darkness of the room. There's light coming from somewhere, a door probably, but he can't see it right away. Instead, he focuses on the quiet sound of a girl doing her best at being quiet.

Jane puts one foot forward when the gunshot deafens him. The bullet whizzes by; definitely grazes his cheek. It burns something awful, and for a second he almost feels bad for dragging Skye around with the state her thigh is in.

Doesn't take more than a fraction of a second before he draws and levels his gun in the approximate location of the shooter. Flicks off the safety and squeezes the trigger. There's the distinct sound of splintering wood and scrambling footsteps, then nothing. Jane curses and ducks blindly, looks for cover. He can hear the other shooter moving several feet away. His knee meets something that feels like a coffee table; good enough.

Jane flips what is probably a table, aims straight ahead and shoots.

The bullet hits either stone or metal. Either way, it does exactly what he needs. The spark of metal against something solid creates enough of a spark for Jane to see the blurred features of a woman.

Hair’s too short. Frame too wide. A second one?

Below him, he hears Skye scream.

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

@fucklife-or-me @yearningforsappho

[eddiescorrodedcoffin86]

Eddie Munson Creel Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Creel

Eleven

Nine

Seer

Beautiful Boy

[squaregoals]

Summary:

It really shouldn't surprise you, in the grand scheme of things, that this would happen to you. You've had plenty enough near-death experiences for a lifetime, between your own hero work and the failed apocalypse.

So when you find you might actually die this time, why are you hung up thinking about one person?

Note: I am actually finished with this, the only reason there's a delay in the chapters coming up is I have to type them up since I physically write everything.

[kakushino]

The Queen

Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader

He never orders you around - rather, he requests.

Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)

There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground. 

Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?

Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines. 

Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.

“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position. 

You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching. 

And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.

“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.” 

The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?

“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.

You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.

The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.

This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.

“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd. 

“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.

“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.

Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom. 

You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.

“Very well.”

Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.

His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -

With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.

All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.

Only if you let him know, that is.

You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.

So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him. 

You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do. 

Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber. 

You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.

That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration. 

At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.

“Everyone, out.”

He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.

And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.

The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World. 

“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.

Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”

Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.

“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?” 

“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed. 

You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.

Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.

“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”

“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”

Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.

“Has a cat got your tongue?” 

Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size. 

You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.

“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.

Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”

His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.

The devil didn’t bargain, after all.

“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”

dividers by the divine @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

[andthebeanstalk]

Me: hm, I want something to put on the TV as background noise... Huh. Looks like YouTube is recommending something called The Last Unicorn. That's perfect, it's probably some old shitty animation that has aged poorly! I can watch it ironically!

Me, 2 hours later as the credits roll: *crying, cheering, buying the book, composing the songs*

Me, 2 weeks later: So I have compiled all of the quotes from the book that I think could make good tattoos, and also, HOW HAVE I NEVER LEARNED ABOUT HOW THE LAST UNICORN FUCKING SLAPS??? This gay-ass little fairytale fed my soul! Watered my crops! Transed my gender! Can't believe I heard of this story from youtube recommendations, of all places!!

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

Crowned Prince Shouto who is so very much in love with you, even if it did take a while to come around after the arranged marriage occurred.

Crowned Prince Shouto whose brow creases and eyes twitch every time people in high court mock how plain you are under hushed breaths.

Crowned Prince Shouto who gets absolutely sloshed at a royal banquet to try and drown his anger when he hears a rumor going around that his marriage is unconsummated due to finding you so repulsive before storming off to find you.

Royal Advisor Izuku who rushes off to try and follow, only to hear a shriek coming from your room. When scrambling to investigate if you're okay he finds his master on his knees absolutely devouring your cunt while your receiving chamber door remains open a crack.

[fqntasies]

Just a taste, baby - Feyd Rautha x Reader

summary: You and Feyd-Rautha have been connected through dreams since childhood; a complex inner-working of the Bene Gesserit mothers to join your bloodlines. It binds the two of you in a pull you can't escape (nor do you want to). Feyd is absolutely feral for you.

words: 1,258

disclaimer: characters may be out of character, specifically feyd, considering his desperate softness here. just a forewarning.

You were trapped, breaths coming out of shallow pants as you felt the scratch of the cement structure beneath your palms. He had you against the wall in a hidden alcove; along one of the lengthy corridors of the palace in Giedi Prime. Your mouths were just breaths apart. In fact the Harkonnen before you seemed intent on matching your breaths, mingling them. Tasting your tiny pants as his own. It made your eyes heavy, made you want to tilt your head back and close your eyes, give him access to the expanse of your neck.

"sweetness." He rasped, unable to control himself. The Na-Baron wrapped an arm about your waist, a vice arching you against him as he lowered a wanting mouth to your neck, licking and sucking where the two met. You mewled at the wet heat, felt him growl desperately at the taste.

The two of you hadn't even kissed yet - but the wait; the dreams - you both knew each other to the soul.

---- flashback ----------

The sands of Arakis and Geidi Prime alike carried mysteries of prophesies of the lisan-al-gaib. But midst such tales, the Bene-Geserit mothers also had worked to connect bloodlines through dreams. The Na-Baron and the princess of Arrakis had been bound by such since birth. A well-planned move to align feuds and place power into wanting hands in preparation of war. A web of politcal conspiracy only they controlled. Their plans could not be foiled.

But Feyd couldn't care less about such witchcraft; and neither, if one were honest, could you. The two of you had known of this binding since a young age. And when you had met as children too - the connection had been strong.

"Their line is bright" The reverend mother's voice had burned into your mind, even at 10 years old.

You remembered her cloaked form; a black shadow against the haze of the horizon, a tower above you as she turned from your parents. Her voice had been void of emotion, except for a smugness you didn't understand. But when you turned to glance at the older boy before you (such a uniquely beautiful boy; broad shoulders and smooth skin, black attire across a lithe form), his eyes shone with an intensity that surprised her. Dark, watching, intrigued. He intimidated you. He made you curious.

At 15 years of age, the Na-Baron hadn't spoken in their meeting; but he had felt more than he had imagined. The girl...she had made him feel things. It confused and awakened him to something he had never known. His uncle had never spoken of such a pull. A need.

When the ship had arrived to his homeworld, and the strange foreigners parted like a sea, Feyd-Rautha found himself straightening to his full height; head lowered as he studied them beneath an angled gaze. Garbs of strange colors - hair he had never seen before in elegant styles. He would be Harkonnen predator. He would be a warrior. Strike fear in these alien people, show the Baron he was not swayed so easily by something new.

But then-

Swathed in layers of white, a girl stepped forward; dainty and gracious above all else; practically floating across the landing platform. Yet her eyes betrayed her; darting to capture the landscape, thrown off perhaps by the infrared of Giedi Prime's black sun above them.

She was drinking in the strange newness before her, and then they found him. Feyd felt his chest tighten. Fists clenched. Heat brimmed under the chestplate of his armor.

She looked like some newborn animal, caught in his gaze. But they both felt it. The familiarity. The warm hum between them. It made you want to slip from the safety of your parents and stand beside him, as though his shadow was more protection than the whole parade your own family brought with them. You wondered if he'd felt the same.

Three nights later, you had dreamed of him. A bit older, hand in his as he raised it to his lips. His eyes had never left yours. As a young girl it made you blush. Now...

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

You made a breathy sound as his tongue lathed the mark he had made, moving with a lazy carelessness across your pulse, hungry above all else, uncaring for decorum. He wanted to devour you entirely. He wanted you to see you helpless and delirious against him, just as you were now. As you were in all his dreams.

He knew you'd had them all too. His eyes on you at their wedding. His tongue against yours, moans and tastes and hunger. You watching from the arena as he slaughtered man after man, coated and heaving. He felt like a beast.

"Feyd-" His name barely formed, like a prayer from your lips.

His eyes nearly lolled in his head at the way you sounded, and he dragged his wanting mouth up to meet yours. Wet and wanting. Feyd's free hand shifted to engulf your slender neck, moving your head against his mouth to deepen the kiss, taste all of you. Consume.

The Na-Baron was all muscle and prowess, a looming figure that practically dwarfed you. The spanse of his shoulders alone were sinful, and deep down you loved how it felt to be completely in his grasp. Guiding you in your movements.

Feyd's tongue sought yours as much as he could, controlling and demanding - but you were a needy little thing too, weren't you? In the haze of passion you were pressing into him - leaning just as much towards his heat as he was pushing you both together. You sucked his plush bottom lip into your mouth - unable to help yourself. After all, why was he made so beautiful, if not to kiss? He was quick to follow, biting your own with a growl that made your knees practically give, and following with his greedy tongue.

"You're going to be my wife." the words are a promise, his eyes glittering under the low light; shadows flashign with the coming storm. You part your mouth as though to taste him again, a helpless 'please' slipping past as you arch in his grasp.

Feyd practically took you then and there. Enter the nearest room... make all his dreams a reality. His patience was nearly worn thin. Years of waiting, of hunger. And now it was here. You were in his reach, that tempting little waist; those hips. It made him absolutely insane.

He wets his lips, gaze feverish.

"tomorrow. tomorrow sweetness, hmm? Can wait that long?" He intends to tease you, but he knows he speaks to himself, his jaw locking as he adjusts his arms to press you against him.

You're so fucking soft. It makes him groan. Of all the things he's known in his life, softness was not one of them, save for the flashes of you in his dreams. He craved you like a creature starved. Thoughts of you made him fight better. Made him kill easier.

There's a rumble suddenly of a drone; Harkonnen orders breaking the silence in distorted code. The words don't make sense to your ears. Not yet anyway. You hope to make progress in the language, but it was a challenge; more than others. The variety of tones were a feat for any foreigner to take on; but this was to be your home. A lady of harkonnen would learn her husband's native tongue.

You know he has to leave.

[yurislilygarden]

ʚїɞ Self Aware! Hazbin Hotel

ʚїɞ Their reaction after becoming self aware and first thoughts about reader! part 1

ʚїɞ Alastor and Lucifer Morningstar

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ Word count: just about 1.7k

ʚїɞ I planned for all hotel characters first but then I realized how much I'm thinking on each paragraph and its details that I decided to just do 2-3 charas per part😭

Very few characters would notice something wrong on the first watch of the show, but wouldn't realize, nor become self-aware until the 2nd or further watch. 

While everyone's reaction would be different with different amounts of stages before total acceptance of the situation, they all would share the first emotion, simple disbelief. They would first need to even process the fact that they're not real, that they were created solely for the purpose of entertaining… something? Someone? In a completely different Universe. That everything that they thought had happened to them before they died didn't actually happen, they were never alive in the first place. Only after that did the emotions and reactions differ. The very first emotion or actual personal reaction would be:

ALASTOR

Irritation with a hint of madness.

His first thoughts about the situation would be how ironic it is that he seeks entertainment for himself while his own person, no, character, was a source of entertainment for whatever was watching them from time to time. It was quite ironic how he said that his face was made for radio when the truth couldn't be further from that. He was literally created solely to be watched on that funny colored box by… whatever was watching him and the others.

He was irritated at not noticing that something was wrong immediately, now he thinks about how blind he was, how obvious everything was. The city is actually quiet, too quiet when the noise and demons aren't needed, when they're not meant to be heard. Nothing actually happened that one time when he was out for a fix of his coat, it just got magically fixed, he went and came back when someone else decided he was to do so. They didn’t have much actual free will when he thought about it and that's what he was mad about. He thought that his deal was a massive problem to him, oh how wrong he was because the problem was you.

He doesn't know how he or the others didn't notice the small, glowing butterfly flying above their heads from time to time. They couldn't be that blind, could they? The little crystal thing (could he break it?) must have done something to be unnoticed for so long. He wondered how long they were watched for, the little thing above their heads seemed to be speaking sometimes, seemingly knowing what would happen… at least he thought so, the words would cut out so often that he was left with a pure guess at one point.

He didn't want to accept that he wasn't real, that he was just a 2D character with the sole purpose of entertaining someone. He was meant to be the one entertained, not you. But he couldn't actually do anything, could he? For sure not until more of the people he knew were aware. 

That's also something that he noticed. When it came to the hotel staff and guests, he seemed to be the only one who realized the situation at first. It took a few times of some events repeating before he noticed that someone else from the hotel was noticing the little crystal butterfly above their heads as well. 

Alastor seemed to be the first, or one of the very first people who noticed that something was wrong. He wasn't sure if someone realized before him, and if they did then who, but he was somewhat glad that he could finally discuss the topic at least a little once the other hotel patrons found out about the truth. He isn't one to really open up in any way, but this was a matter where he had to communicate with the others.

You. He didn’t know what to think of you at first. He did see you in a more negative light at first, under many emotions hitting him at once which he hated but after he calmed down, he started thinking. At first, he was sure you were some sick person seeking entertainment from the suffering of others, and yeah he was doing pretty much the same, but were you really alike when he wasn’t even real and you were? He was pretty sure that he’s never gonna get used to saying that.

Over time, when he stopped overthinking (he’s gonna deny that he was doing that till the day of his 2nd death), he noticed a few changes. The less negative his posture and thoughts were about you, even if neutral, the more he was able to find out. Alastor was able to pick up more than a few words whenever you talked, he was able to hear you talking clearly enough to recognize a possible gender, and something he wasn’t sure that he wanted to think about, it was way easier to pick up your emotions in your words.

I feel like he would be more lenient towards you if it turned out you were a female (or identified as one), but that would be the mama’s boy inside of him talking. There wouldn’t be too many differences of course, but those who spent enough time around him would be able to tell there's a difference after finding out your gender if it turned out you weren’t a man (again, not too much but it IS noticeable).

He would go from lowkey hating you at first to being mostly neutral with a hint of positive light as you seemed to do nothing but watch, up until later on when everyone is self-aware as well and would talk about the whole thing. Only then would the feelings towards you, the little watcher, as he first called you, turn more positive.

LUCIFER

Massive inner conflict and a complete mix of emotions

He didn’t know what to think. It was hard to comprehend that he didn’t actually live for as long as he thought, that all the things that supposedly happened, in fact never were even close to happening, they were just… a scripted past. 

Was all his suffering for nothing? Was it there just to entertain someone? Did those things who watched them enjoy seeing them sad and hurt? He was simply lost on what to think about the whole situation, it wasn't something that he could prepare himself for in any way beforehand. 

He was disappointed in himself for not noticing immediately or at least faster that something was not right. He's the literal King of hell! Even if… only in a show apparently… but he still is. No one better say anything about that because he's already on the brink of a yet another breakdown. He cannot take much more.

Should he try doing something about this? Or should he stay quiet and go with the script as he's supposed to? He wasn’t sure about the answer himself and had no one to answer his questions. The thought that what he thought were eons of life was actually a lie was… a little terrifying. Who knows just how much can someone force them to do without caring for their opinions because they don’t know that he and the others are aware of everything now, how much can you cause without their consent? He wasn’t sure if you or anyone else knew about them being self-aware or not.

He would actually try to ignore the little butterfly whenever he would see it, but at the same time, many questions were swirling in his mind.

Why were you around? Did you like to see them suffering? Did you have any control over what you saw? Did you have some sort of control over them? Did you have plans regarding them? Did you-

Yeah, again, he has a lot of questions and absolutely zero answers.

His personal feelings about you were all around at first. Not sure whether he should hate, dislike, or be generally negative about you, be more neutral, or be on the more positive side, especially since you didn't seem to do anything but watch them. Like it's all that you could do when it comes to them, but he couldn't be 100% sure.

Similarly to Alastor, he would be one of the characters who noticed something wrong on the first watch of the show before becoming self-aware quite soon after that. I don't think he, nor Alastor, would notice the other knows too fast, since both try to act like nothing's wrong around others. He did not want to be just a 2D character, something to be watched on a screen. It was… humiliating, in his eyes. He could tell that Charlie and the others weren't aware of anything at first so he didn't speak about it until later on when he was sure that they came to their senses, as he would like to say.

He wondered how long were you actually there before he, or anyone else, started to see or notice you, especially since he could literally hear you. Both as the small insect and the occasional words he was able to pick up. And that's if he was to forget the butterfly was literally, softly fucking glowing. Yeah, they're all blind.

I think that if you’re on the younger side, (which technically is any age a human can be alive at compared to him lmao) he would be a little softer, especially if you're similar to his daughter in character. It would come from the paternal side of his, you would probably remind him of Charlie so much :(

He would be more on the negative side at first, as much as he wishes he didn't straight up assume how you were as a person, it took some time but he went into the more neutral zone before being positive about you after being able to hear more of you talking, as he was able to at least have more idea about your character and wasn't completely clueless like at the start.

Your nickname also got changed to something else, something cuter over time, as Alastor’s name for you, little watcher, was deemed not good enough by everyone (Lucifer's words)

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

[ijuststareatstuffhereok89]

Title board created by the loverly @mochie85!

Lesson Two

Loki forces you out of your comfort zone...in more ways than one.

**MASTERLIST HERE** Pairing: Soft!Dom!Loki x F!Reader Content Warnings: smut, extensive mentions of death, euthanasia, and death-related philosophy, some dark content (though the characters won't be), exile, moodiness, smut, kinks of various flavors (look for specific chapter warnings), trauma and mental illness, reader is a captive, reader has a body count

When Loki finally forced the gloves off of your hands, it was much later than ‘tomorrow night.’ In fact, he’d allowed you nearly an entire month’s respite, choosing to pick his battles for the short term. Instead, he decided to take a different approach. 

It was unseasonably warm for early February, and the first Sunday of the month, you’d gone out to the hill. You packed a light meal to take with you, and at the moment, you were sitting on a blanket and eating with your magic tutor before your lesson. 

For the past few weeks, Loki had been working on your mind and willpower, perhaps pre-empting any panic you would feel in exposing your hands by addressing them first. He worked with you on visualizing your curse, manifesting it into a physical form that was invisible to all but you. That took a long time, many hours of your teacher staring at you in silence as you shut your eyes and attempted to meditate your way into focus.

You felt his eyes on you every second during these exercises, bearing down on you, studying every twitch of your skin. What would it feel like once your palms were bare? You almost would have preferred to be otherwise naked before him, although that idea only made you tingle. 

Loki was nothing if not a gentleman with you. He never once came closer than you asked, aside from sometimes in lessons, when he would insist on standing close to gauge your energy. It was in these moments that you felt your power surge through your muscles the most, frightening you. Your body was reacting to his presence in a strange, unnerving way. Yet, at the same time, you began to wonder what his skin felt like to the touch. To you, such a move would be one of the most intimate moments you’d ever experienced. 

No matter how much he insisted he wasn’t afraid of you, you insisted that you only touch him in your dreams. 

Yesterday, you finally saw your necrogenetic power for the first time. It was a gray billow of smoke that clung close to your skin, up and down your fingers, stopping at your wrists. It smelled vaguely of something burning. The gloves dampened the smoke, but it caused your skin to twinge with psychosomatic itching.

“Excellent,” Loki said sharply when you reported this to him. “Tomorrow, we go out to the hill.” 

So you did. You’d slept in that morning, and felt groggy as you prepared some rolls and fruit for lunch to take outside. Loki spent nearly an hour in the shower, and you hadn’t expected him to emerge from the steam wrapped in nothing but a green towel, loosely tied at the hip. Before ducking into his room, he winked at you, licking a corner of his lip. 

He isn’t stupid, you thought. He knows how I feel. He’s tempting me on purpose. 

Your mind couldn’t decide which way was up. Your handsome god was gentle with you, acting almost fatherly, but that didn’t deter you from desiring him in a way that was MOST unfatherly. Ultimately, it was your desire to not murder him  that always won out, and no matter how many times he forgot to button the front of his pants, or left his shirts off, you’d refuse to remove the gloves. 

“Today, we will take the gloves off,” Loki insisted once you’d finished lunch. 

You bit your lip and looked off into the distance, down at the village. “I’m not ready.” 

Rolling his eyes, Loki put a firm hand on your shoulder, drawing your gaze away from New Asgard and into his face. “You need to pick up the pace. We’ve already been here for four weeks. I’ve been lenient with you thus far, out of my own limited supply of patience, but soon I may have to tighten my grip.” 

His hand lightly squeezed your shoulder, sending a cool chill down your back. 

“What have I taught you so far?” Loki asked. 

“To visualize it,” you replied quietly. “And to use my willpower to stop it.”

“Well, now that you can see it, let’s take the next step,” your teacher instructed. “What does it feel like?”

You thought for a moment. “Nothing, until it’s triggered.”

“And then what?”

“It’s a sharp pulling feeling, like I’m sucking their soul through a straw,” you described. “Then, for a flashing moment, I feel this sort of invincibility, but only for a moment. It’s instant.”

“You know it better than you think,” he answered, taking his hand off of you and spinning so he faced you from the front. “Today’s lesson: you will take them off, and you will touch me…here…” he indicated his own open, bare hand, “...and here…” he brought a hand up to his face, lightly tapping against his cheekbone.  

You quickly shook your head. 

“And we will not leave this spot until you do, if we have to be out here all night.” 

You growled, rolling your eyes. Sometimes the god could get on your nerves with how he underestimated the fears and reservations you felt. What kind of relationship did Loki have with death, for him to speak so casually about the possibility of it? “It’s winter. I could get sick.” 

Twisting his lip, Loki pointed at the picnic sheet on the ground. “You have a blanket. I have Ice Giant blood. We’d make it.” 

“Loki…” you whispered, not realizing that you were nervously beginning to tug at the thumb of your left glove.

“Look how free you want to be without knowing it!” he replied, looking at your hands. “Your subconscious is trying to tell you! If I have no fear here, you shouldn’t. And really, what are you denying by remaining frightened by such a simple thing? Only your own return to normality.” 

“And yours,” you said softly. He nodded, his eyes surprisingly full of sympathy for you. He brought up a hand and brushed a tendril of your hair off of your brow, where it had been pasted there by the wind. 

The tender gesture made you want to kiss him. For over a month now, your secret crush on Loki had festered, somehow grown, and now you felt absolutely hot-for-teacher. Every time he sternly asked something of you, and you followed him, it made something stir between your legs, and you knew the dream of Loki taking care of you in other, more sensual ways, was what would lull you to sleep that night. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he replied, pulling his hand from your face. “After all, I’ve already put my faith in you. I’m just waiting for you to extend the same favor to me.”

You sighed, realizing that Loki was correct. This was all on you. Were you going to drop the ball so quickly on the first being to give you a fair chance in nearly thirty years? Looking down at your left hand for a moment, you bit your lip. “If we are both wrong, and I kill you, Loki…”

“...then we both live behind a massive brimstone in my sister’s domain,” he said, shrugging as if the situation was as serious as a game of hopscotch. “And I won’t even hold it against you, unless we have a quarrel I especially want to win.” 

You giggled in spite of yourself, bringing your eyes upward again. Loki had a way of mixing jest with seriousness that tempered your blood and put your feet firmly on the ground while your heart still floated in the air. You still couldn’t get enough of his mouth, and how he was able to use it to express anything on his mind without a word. 

“Loki…I…”

“Y/N, you’ve already done it,” he whispered back, looking down at your hand with a look of proud satisfaction on his face. 

Your left hand was bare, and the glove on the ground under the toe of your boot, having pulled it off while looking into Loki’s blue eyes. “Did you just hypnotize me?” you asked quietly, only half-confounded. 

Loki chuckled. “No. If that was ever my intention, I would have done it the day we arrived. You did this on your own, my girl.” 

The open air hitting your exposed hand felt strange. Sure, you took the gloves off at night, but just the same, having them on for so many hours every day had made your skin pale and sensitive to any touch. The wind made your skin chill, and you knew goosebumps were forming on your arms, under your coat. Your nails were rather long (your mother would have called them ‘claws’) and jagged, desperately in need of a trim. 

“Your left hand is lovely, but this only gets you half-credit, dear student,” he continued, looking at the other hand. 

Nodding, you felt the small surge of confidence carry your mind to finish the assignment, still taking a moment’s hesitation before slowly casting the right glove off. Loki nodded in approval.

“I will reward you for this,” he purred under his breath. “Such a good girl, you are.” 

Damn, he’s doing it again! you thought. 

“Now, before you finish your task, I want you to close your eyes,” he instructed, going behind you, leaning down by your ear so that you could feel his warm breath against your earlobe, making you shiver as you did as he asked. You felt his hand settle on your waist, above where your navel was. His hips were pressed firmly against your lower back. 

Loki went on with his instruction. “Visualize your magic again, the gray mist you see. Watch it envelope your hands from behind your eyes. Tell me when you see it…”

You held your hands out in front of you, and after several seconds of concentration, the smoke appeared, swirling about your fingers as they twitched with anticipation. 

“There,” you whispered. 

You could practically feral Loki’s lips on your earlobe, whether they were actually so close was yet-to-be-determined. “Now I want you to tell it to go backwards. Retract the magic back under your skin. Will it, and it shall happen.”

You puckered your lips and knitted your eyebrows, as if bracing yourself would help you focus. The magic didn’t budge. A minute went by in silence, followed by another. “Loki,” you moaned, frustrated, “I’m sor--”

“--sh!” he commanded.

Another minute went by, as you tried to mentally-command your arms to drink back the smokey magic and render you harmless. Finally, you detected movement as the borders of your necrogenetic magic shrank. Taking a deep breath and holding it, you tried to bring it down even more. Letting the hope you felt be your motivation, you began inhaling rhythmically, and with each one, a little more of your gray mist fell back into your skin. 

“Loki…it’s gone!” you said excitedly. 

“Very good,” he answered. “It’s time.” 

You felt two fingers grip the cuff of your coat, slowly bringing your arm upward. Without fighting, you opened your palm, being sure to hold focus, but still stopping just short of Loki’s face. 

“It’s fine,” he assured you, his voice sounding the way a father would encourage a sad child. “All will be well.”

You inhaled one more time, and gingerly settled your cool palm against Loki’s cheek. At the same time, you slipped the other hand over the one he had placed on your abdomen. Squinting, you held your breath for several seconds, waiting for skin to turn cold, for the cessation of his breath against your neck as he leaned in, for the sound of a ‘thud’ as his body hit the grass. 

None came, but your brain was hyper-focused on keeping it that way. You didn’t notice that Loki had gently nipped your earlobe to indicate he was still living. He had to speak before you came to realize it. 

“Still here,” he said, matter-of-factly. “I don’t even feel ill.” 

You gasped and opened your eyes. Indeed, you were now fully in your teacher’s embrace, bare hands against his flesh with no effect. Smiling, you giggled. “I…how did I…?”

“Now we can finally begin the real work,” Loki said, letting you go quickly and spinning your shoulders so that you were facing him again. “This was the first step, Y/N, but to fully control it, you need to make retracting it second nature to you.” 

“But how? That took so much energy!” you sighed, exasperated. 

Loki smiled and brought his hand up to your face, gently stroking you before using a single finger to trace down the side of your neck. “There is so much yet to learn about you and your gift. Not just in the physical sense, but in the nature of it. We need to learn about death.” 

“Sounds morbid,” you said, shuddering. “I am not sure I like the sound of that.” 

“I’ll be with you,” Loki promised, bringing your hand to his lips, laying a kiss on the back of it. “We can do this together. You won’t be alone.”

Your ear drank in his words like a rich wine. A part of you wanted to extend this feeling of lust washing over you for as long as possible, but you knew the right thing to do. “Loki, I know what you’re doing,” you said, breaking off the moment and stepping back. 

He chuckled. “And what is that?”

“You’re trying to…to…”

“...give you a reward for being so brave for me?” he smiled. “Y/N, you’ve come so far in just the last few moments.”

Shaking your head, you quickly scooped your gloves off the ground. “Admit it, you know how I feel about you.”

He shrugged and nodded. “Yes. I’m gifted at reading people’s body language. Your body is rather expressive, which is why I want to explore it more deeply.” 

“You’re exploiting me!” you said, raising your voice defensively. 

Loki raised an eyebrow. “In order to do this correctly, we can’t hold anything back,” he said. “If we fall on the wrong side of one another, you could lose focus and we both could lose our heads. If what we want between us is more intimate in nature, I see no reason to deny it.”

“Because you’re my mentor!” you protested half-heartedly. “I could still kill you. Just because this one time worked doesn’t mean--I mean--what happened to obedience?”

Loki grinned, his smile taking on a new, more startling context. “You don't think I won’t extend our rules to the bedroom? I will still demand obedience of your body, I promise. What’s more, you’ll enjoy it, enjoy me, and become hungry for seconds in no time.” 

Looking bashfully at the floor, you almost couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “You do realize that I’m a--?” 

“--virgin?” Loki suggested. “I assumed. If you couldn’t bring yourself to touch anyone’s face, I cannot imagine you’ve touched much else. I can talk you through it, tell you the story as I write it all over your skin, and if you are so afraid of killing me, we can bind these,” he added, tapping your wrist with a finger. “As tightly as you want, I can tie you down.” 

“You…you’re asking too much of me,” you said quickly. 

Loki shuffled until the toes of his boots were nearly on top of yours, and there wasn't room for an atom of air between your chests. Leaning down, he laid his lips over yours, firmly but with grace. You let his flavor wash over your tongue as his sensuality drew you in helplessly. 

Suddenly, a voice from the bottom of the hill jerked you out of your kiss. “Loki!!”

It was the owner of the shop that operated above your basement home, a middle-aged Asgardian man. 

Loki rolled his eyes, genuinely disappointed by the moment cut short. “What is it?” he moaned.

“The King has come looking for you, and she’s not in a patient mood!”

@kats72 @violethaze @cheekyscamp @javagirl328 @yelkmelk @mischief2sarawr @buttercupcookies-blog @lokidokieokie @fictive-sl0th @jaidenhawke @caothicshit @holdmytesseract @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @meowmeow-motherfucker @huntress-artemiss @lokisgoodgirl @loz-3 @mjsthrillernp @alexakeyloveloki @linaax @noideakitten @evelyn-rathmore @lovingchoices14 @itzcomplctd7 @praq123 @the-fantasy-loving-angel @alexakeyloveloki

[feyreswaterybowels]

⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

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“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

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Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

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“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

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It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Hunting Roses - Chapter 4

AN: This is a yandere Zemo fic. That means that it will have dark content. I do not endorse these relationships and behaviour in real life. This chapter contains mentions of death, tears, pain, divorce, grief, manipulation, fear, panic, and funerals. Also, please let me know if you like the new mood board!

Steve Rogers who was also known as Captain America was not having a good day.  To begin with, General Ross, a man who operated on fear and not respect had introduced the Sokovian Accords to the Avengers.  In doing so, Ross had ensured that each one of the Avengers thoroughly understood that an overwhelming majority of the governments around the world supported the Accords and what would happen to anyone who opposed the Accords in any way, shape, or fashion.

Steve wasn’t blind.  He’d seen the way that Ross zeroed in on Wanda and heard how he kept repeating and emphasising the complete title of the Accords.  He was proud of the way that you and Rhodey had stood up for her.

Steve’s mind was whirring when Ross announced that you had immunity and the other Avengers didn’t.  He had just realised that the singular offer of manipulation was part of a bigger, hidden plan when his phone vibrated.

The message that lit up his screen only contained two words.  But those words were enough to cause another crack in his heart.  Steve’s gaze became unfocused and all he could see were the words, “She’s gone.”

His body trembled as he announced that he had to leave.  Steve couldn’t bring himself to turn around to look at any of his team because he feared that they would see the tears pooling in his eyes and the pain in his heart.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve found himself carrying Peggy’s coffin with five other people.  He had tuned out the whole service and his gaze had become blurry as he stared unblinkingly at Peggy’s coffin.  While there were certainly people in the church that knew of his dual identity, he was sure that none of them would judge him for his grief.

The end of the service came too quickly and not fast enough for Steve and he once again found himself guiding Peggy to her final resting place.  Due to the large crowd, it was easy for him to slip away and return to the now empty church.

That was where Natasha found him.  Natasha had just finished explaining that Tony, Rhodey, and Vision had already signed the Accords.  When Steve asked about Wanda, Natasha replied that Wanda was under house arrest and Tony’s protection.

Steve’s throat felt dry as he gathered his courage to ask Natasha if she had signed the Accords too.  He was afraid that her answer would mean that he would lose another friend.

Steve felt his heart constrict as Natasha confirmed that she had signed the Accords.  He blew out his breath in a disappointed exhale and bent his head to look at the ground instead of Natasha.  Steve couldn’t even find it in himself to reproach Natasha when her phone rang in the church and she answered it.

His head shot up when he heard her tone change.

“Say that again,” the spy commanded, lowering the hand that held her phone to waist level and pressing the speaker button.

“I’d be more than happy to arrange a hearing appointment for you, Widow, although I didn’t think that I’d need to do that for a couple more decades.”

“Tony.” Natasha snapped.

“Not in the mood for jokes I see.” Tony replied smoothly.

“What gave it away?” Natasha asked sarcastically.

“The general tone of your voice, the fact that….”

“Tony!” Steve bit out impatiently.

“Steve.  I’m sorry to hear about Peggy,” Tony stated sombrely, “and I hate to be the bearer of more unwelcome news but (Name) is nowhere to be found and a woman claiming to be the ex-wife of Baron Helmut Zemo has arrived at the compound along with Zemo’s father and son.  They are insistently demanding to talk to as many of us as they can.”

Steve’s feelings about Natasha signing the Accords were pushed to the side at Tony’s words and he and Natasha shared concerned looks.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes,” Natasha promised.

Steve couldn’t think of a time when he had been more grateful for Natasha’s driving ability even if she was a slightly reckless driver on normal occasions.  Neither of them spoke as she sped through the streets arriving at the compound in exactly ten minutes.

Steve’s curiosity and apprehension built with every step.  He and Natasha walked in silence through the compound and Steve pretended not to notice her side glances every few minutes.  While he walked, he wondered exactly what the Zemo family was doing at the compound.  He also worried about the fact that you had disappeared from the compound.

Over your time with the Avengers, Steve had been able to piece together bits and pieces of your history.  His mind kept returning to the fact that years ago, you and some others had fought against a bill called the Mutant Registration Act.  The reminder of the Act was enough to have Steve fighting a shudder.  He’d done some research on that act and he had been appalled at the fact that the Act had even been allowed to enter the Congress chambers.

Steve had also been horrified at the amount of support that the Act had amassed.  It seemed that the America he had fought for in the forties was slowly slipping away and being replaced with an unfamiliar, unpredictable, and harsher America. 

Three people stood up from their chairs as Steve and Natasha entered the conference room.  Tony, Rhodey, Clint, Wanda and Sam all turned to look at them.  Vision was the only one who didn’t.  His head was cocked to the side and he was gazing at Wanda with concern.  While Natasha sought Clint’s gaze for reassurance, Steve looked at Wanda.  Her eyes were red and the skin around them was red too and Steve felt sympathy and protectiveness surge through him.  He also noticed that Vision was standing close to her.

When Wanda spoke, her voice was firm, “Baron Heinrich Zemo, Heike Párduc, and Carl Zemo, may I introduce Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff?”

Steve frowned slightly as he tried to figure out why Wanda had introduced the three visitors the way she had.  The closest he could get to an answer was that Wanda wanted to introduce them as humans not by their job titles.  He melted when he saw Carl wave to him and he returned the gesture.

“And your other friend?  Phantasm?” Heinrich demanded forcefully, “Where is she?  We came to speak with her!”

Steve’s mind registered the with in Heinrich’s sentence and for some reason, that four letter word had his muscles tensing.  Steve estimated that Heinrich was in his mid-sixties but the man still had a formidable air around him.  Heike seemed to have a similar fire in her eyes.  With her styled, curly blonde hair and light blue eyes, Steve could be forgiven for thinking that Heike was a woman he had encountered in the forties.

Heike’s son on the other hand had innocent brown eyes underneath furrowed eyebrows and neatly parted, short brown hair.  It was easy to tell that Heinrich and Carl were related just by looking at them and Steve’s heart sank because if he could spot the similarities, chances are that other people could as well and Carl could be used as leverage against his family simply because his grandfather was royalty.

Heike turned to her son, who had sat down again while looking at Steve with an awed expression.

“Show them what you can do,” Heike urged quietly and Carl frowned deeply, closing his eyes.  When Carl reopened them, Steve was shocked to see his shield sitting on the table between them. 

Without thinking about it, Steve reached forwards to touch his shield but his hand passed through it as if it wasn’t there.

“Carl’s talent appeared the night we left Sokovia.” The Baron rumbled, his voice losing some of its forcefulness as Heike smiled at Carl proudly and the illusion of Steve’s shield vanished when Carl grinned happily up at his mother.

“We think it has something to do with his father’s innate talent of persuading people to see his point of view,” the Baron continued.  Steve understood the underlying meaning of the Baron’s words.  It seemed that the Baron’s son had no qualms about using words or force to encourage his audience to see his point of view.

“Though that isn’t the only reason why we came,” Heike revealed, “it is a small part of it.  We all wanted to thank Phantasm for her actions in Sokovia and we wanted to warn her.”

“Warn her?” Clint echoed, “Why?”

Wanda and Heike looked at each other and then Heike asked Wanda and Vision to take Carl on a tour of the compound.  Heike and Heinrich watched them leave and then Heike turned back to face Steve.  When she spoke, Steve noticed that her voice had risen slightly and he could detect notes of urgency and panic in it though her tone remained level.

“You must understand that Helmut and I fell out of love a long time ago.  We chose to stay together for Carl and because we didn’t want to give the Sokovian media any opportunity to report gossip.  I’m sure you understand that concept.”

The present Avengers all made small noises of agreement.

Heike cleared her throat, “When we landed in America and had not heard from Helmut, I began to dream of a different life.  In Sokovia, not only was he a former Colonel of the Sokovian Armed Forces but he was a commander of EKO Scorpion, an elite strike force.  As a result of his time with those organisations, I began to witness a darker side of the man.  There was a ruthlessness to him and so, I quietly made inquires about divorcing him.  Heinrich found out about my endeavours and to my surprise, he supported me.”

“People change over time.”  Heinrich asserted, “Sometimes it is not for the better.” 

Tony nodded, “I’ve had that happen to me once or twice with people I’ve known for a long time.”

Heike nodded, “Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, I was able to recover the divorce papers that I had signed before we fled Sokovia.  When Helmut arrived unexpectedly on our doorstep, he inquired about your friend and there was a longing hidden in his inquires and I thought to myself, “Why would he hide his intrigue?”  All of the answers I considered left a bitter taste in my mouth and so, I took the opportunity and presented Helmut with the divorce papers that I signed.  As soon as he left, I felt as if I had played right into his hands and so, we made plans to come here to warn Phantasm.  It seems we have arrived too late and she is gone.”

“I have a few ideas where she might have gone.”  Natasha spoke up reassuringly and some of the tension left Heike’s body although Steve saw that Heinrich was still unconvinced, “We’ll find her and we’ll tell her what you told us.”

“I will also admit that I am worried about Carl,” Heike continued and Heinrich nodded, “while I know that Helmut would be incredibly protective and if the occasion asked for it, downright wrathful if any of his enemies tried to harm Carl in any manner, Carl is a young boy who adores his father.  He knows he has a talent and if he thought he could help his father by using this talent…” Heike trailed off.  Steve could see the shock on all the Avengers’ faces particularly Natasha, Rhodey and Tony’s faces at the implication that an innocent child could be manipulated into helping his father simply because they were related.

Heinrich confirmed the hidden message in Heike’s final speech for the Avengers, “It would be best if Helmut never found out about his son’s talent but we do not live in an ideal world.  We must be practical.  Do you know of a place where my grandson can learn to use his talent safely and without fear?” 

“There’s a place called Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters,” Natasha explained “and it would be the first place (Name) would go to feel safe again.  On the outside, it appears that the school is academically focused but that is a façade.  Its true purpose is to provide a safe environment for children and adults like Carl.”

“Can you escort him there?” Heike pleaded, “I fear that my ex-husband has eyes and ears everywhere and that it will be sooner rather than later that he finds out about Carl’s gift.”

Natasha raised her chin, “I will escort him there and do my absolute best to protect him,” she vowed.