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yandere-writer-momo · 9 months

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Decided to share a piece I had written in 2019

Yandere Short Stories:

Heroes and Villains

Yandere lesbian supervillain x Afab Reader x Yandere Superhero x Yandere Heroine

A young woman fidgeted in her seat as she sat in a plush red love seat right outside the CEO’s office. The large black doors intimidating her as she began to sweat. The bunny keychain attached to her black purse jingling every time she shifted in her seat.

The young reported pulled out a compact mirror from her black purse as she checked her appearance again, making sure not a single hair was out of place to not offend the big bad boss of Domino Electric, the largest electricity company in the nation. The powerhouse of every major city’s power. The young woman had heard rumors that the CEO was a cold woman with a hell of a temper.

The young reporter was amazed to have this assignment rather than making a newspaper article on the rise of superheroes and the ever so popular super villainess, Electra.

Creak. The young reporter’s head snapped up as she quickly composed herself and placed her compact mirror back into her bag. A tall, slender woman stood before her as the assistant gave her a reassuring smile.

“Miss Spark is ready to speak with you now.” The woman raised a hand to the door with a bow as the young reporter shakily stood up and slowly made her way into the office, the door shutting quickly behind her, trapping her in the den of a lion.

The young reporter gulped as her (eye color) eyes stared at the figure of a tall, voluptuous woman with long, straight silver hair and a black dress suit on. The businesswoman soon turning around, revealing her beautiful, flawless dark skinned face and violet eyes. The reporter whole face flushed red when they made eye contact. She felt like a tiny rabbit in front of a wolf. Her knees shook as her (eye color) eyes glanced at the CEO’s plump lips and slowly trailing her gaze to the violet silk dress shirt the businesswoman had on under her black dress jacket.

“Sit down, Miss (last name).” The woman’s voice was cold and firm, the young reporter immediately sitting down as the tall woman sat in front of her. “I believe you have some questions for me?”

“Ah, y-yes...” the reporter reached into her back, pulling out a notebook and pencil as well as a voice recorder. “I’m so happy for this opportunity, Miss Spark-“

“You may call me Aria Spark since we are alone together.” The reporter nodded as she opened up the notepad and smiled at the businesswoman. “What is your name?”

“Oh, my name is (your full name).” (Your name) replies as she turned to the recorded. “Let’s start with the basics shall we?”

“What made you decide to be a businesswoman?”

“I lived in poverty as a child and wanted a better life for myself. So I climbed to the top by utilizing my skills.” Aria replied as (your name) smiled at her to continue.

“And what may those skills be?”

“I am very good with electrical work.”

(Your name) jotted Aria’s answers down as (your name) listened attentively to every word Aria replied to her questions. (Your nams) soon learned a lot about Aria’s childhood such as her old neighborhood being in the ghetto and Aria’ friends and family who either were no longer in her life or still very close. About how it was hard being a lesbian CEO without criticism and hate comments. Aria told (your name) she was bullied a lot throughout high school for being gay. Aria also wanted to become a businesswoman and make it to the top to prove that she wasn’t scared of people’s expectations of her. Aria was a very admirable woman.

And as the interview came to a close, (Your name) turned off her recorder as the reporter gave Aria another warm smile.

“Thank you so much for this interview, I will publish this in the magazine soon-“ Aria suddenly leaned forward, placing her hands across her desk to stand in front of (your name), caging the young woman in her chair.

“You should go out to dinner with me sometime. You’re really cute.” Aria then reached into her pocket and handed (your name) a business card with her name and number on it. “Call me whenever and we can go out.”

“I-I... Oh um, I think I should go-“

“You’re such a cute little bottom.” Aria chuckled as her violet eyes stared down at the smaller female through long silver eyelashes. “Makes me want to eat you.”

“I-I’m leaving! Have a good day!” (Your name) quickly scrambled away, accidentally dropping the bunny keychain as Aria picked it up. The violet eyed woman smiling at the cute rabbit.

“She’s just like a rabbit.” Aria smirked as she gazed out the door in awe. “And I’m going to have that little rabbit.”

“Miss Spark, I think you scared her away. I’ve never seen someone run so fast-“ the assistant paused as the businesswoman began to chuckle. “Miss Spark? Are you alright?”

“She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect.” A spark of lavender electricity surrounded Aria as she smirked.

“Miss Spark, I don’t know if you know her well enough to-“

“Maybelle, I want all her records and any other personal information you can find about her. I want the little rabbit girl-“

The assistant sighed as she bowed to her employer. “Right away, Miss Spark.” .

“So how’d the interview go, (Your name)?” A slender woman with long, black hair asked as (your name) flushes bright red. The Japanese woman had her jacket off, revealing her various tattoos and ever so prominent piercings, such as her prized septum ring.

“R-really good, Ryoko. It’s just-“

“Just?”

“I didn’t think she’d be so attractive!” (Your name) squeaked out loudly as everyone in the break room stared at the two women as (your name) flushes even more red. “S-she was so curvy and had the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen. And s-she asked me to dinner. Oh god I ran away from her, I-I’m so humiliated.”

The pale woman laughed at (your name) as the young reporter comically hid her face in her arms.

“Well, Miss Spark is clearly interested in you. Probably because you scream ‘bottom’-“

“Why does everyone keep saying that!”

“Because you’re like a cute little rabbit. So timid and shy. Easily flustered, you’re just really cute.” Ryoko told the (hair color) haired girl as Ryoko smiled, showing off her frenulum piercing. (Your name) began to fiddle with her fingers as she pressed them together.

“Do you think I should give her a call?”

“Well, do what your heart wants but we should leave, the pig is here.”

(Your name) turned her head to see the boss of their News media company, Metro Media, Jasper Jones. He was handsome for a man. Tall with a large muscle build, pale blue eyes, short wavy, sandy blonde hair, a chiseled jaw, and he had this tough guy vibe with a scar right across his nose. He was very handsome and he was a very driven man but-

“(Your name), there you are, I need you to see me in my office about your report.” His low voice rung out through the break room as he had his hands on top of the doorway, flexing his muscles through his white dress shirt as the other women swooned. All except (your name). She wasn’t interested in him that much. She didn’t understand what the other women found so great about him...

“Y-yes, mister Jones.”

“You can call me Jasper.” The man chuckled as (your name) tried not to cry at how much the male scared her. He constantly gave her compliments and although they were never stepping over boundaries, it was the way he stared at her. She has never met anyone who stared at her with eyes that felt as if they were undressing her. Jasper’s pale blue eyes gazed at her with such a burning intensity that (your name) felt as if she’d light on fire at any moment.

“Um, I prefer Mister Jones. I’ll talk to you once I’m done eating-“

“How about we go eat in my office-“ (Your name) gulped as she stared at her lap as she fidgeted with her hands nervously. She was so close to crying.

“S-sorry. Maybe another time-“

“Alright how about we go out tomorrow at the cafe next door to the building? My treat?”

“Um, okay-

“Hey, Mister Jones, (your name) is uncomfortable. Could you tone it down?” Ryoko stepped in as she stood between the two, her onyx eyes glowing gold for the briefest of moments as Jasper stood up and took a step back.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize I did. Sorry for not noticing (your name).” The girl merely smiled shyly as she stared at her lap. “I’ll see you in my office later.”

Jasper then turned to leave, flexing his back muscles as he did so, causing (your name) to look away in disgust.

“I don’t like that guy hanging so close around you.” Ryoko stared as she went back to her seat, her onyx eyes furrowing in worry as she gazed at (your name). “You need to be more assertive with your no’s. Just tell him that you’re not interested. I know you’re bisexual but seriously, it’s obvious you lean more towards women. Just tell him you’re gay or something. I’m sure he’ll get the hint then.”

“But I don’t want to make him u-upset. The look in his eyes scares m-me.” Ryoko frowned as she got up from her seat and wrapped her arms around her mousy friend, her body slowly heating up slightly as she glared at the door Jasper walked out of.

“Don’t worry, I’ll always protect you, (your name).” Ryoko stated as she pulled the (body type) girl close to her lean muscled body. Ryoko would always be there for (your name) because she was (your name)’s best and only friend. Ryoko wouldn’t let anything happen to her little bunny.

Jasper tried not to throw his desk across the room but he really wanted to. He has tried everything to make the timid (Your name) love him. He changed his hair style, started working out more, waxing off his unwanted body hair, and even offered her on dates. But Ryoko was in his way. His grip on his desk tightened as it began to frost over with a thin layer of ice. Jasper exhaled as the air in his office slowly began to drop in temperature.

To think his own partner in crime was in an intimate relationship with the cute girl drove him up the wall. (Your name) deserves the absolute best and that’s exactly what he would be. (Your name) could not possibly be gay, she was too cute to be!

(Your name) was the only one to not see him as a piece of meat and didn’t throw herself at him. She didn’t try anything to make him uncomfortable and respected his space and he absolutely loved it. (Your name) was so attentive to everything he talked about and she was so gentle.

Jasper remembered the time her hand grazed his hand when he dropped his papers in the elevator as she helped him collect all of his belongings. Her hands were so small and soft compared to his, Jasper swore his heart stopped. Jasper wondered if all of her was soft. He wondered if she thought of him the same way he thought of her. Jasper relaxed as the temperature and ice began to slowly dissipate as his fingers touched his lips as he released a sigh as he began to give into his delusions.

Did (your name) think of his lips touching her skin so lightly that it felt as if a butterfly landed on each spot his lips would touch? Did she think of Jasper laying beside her at night, holding her close as he whispered sweet nothings into her ear? Did (your name) want to ever date him?

Jasper clutched his chest as he felt his cheeks flush pink. He loved her so much. He still had so much to learn about her.

A quiet knock brought Jasper out of his musings as he cleared his throat and opened his office door, revealing his favorite reporter, a few of her (hair color) hairs out of place as she had a somewhat frazzled appearance. Did she run up the stairs to see him? Did she really want to see him that badly? Oh she was just so cute. Would she look like that if he made love to her?

“Oh, you’re here so quickly (Your name)! I was starting to think you weren’t going to come.” Jasper immediately pulled a chair out for her to sit down as he went over to get her a glass of water from the pitcher.

“O-oh. I didn’t want to disappoint you. Shall we go over my article I wrote?”

“Here drink some water, you look rather frazzled.” Jasper handed her the glass as she shyly took it from him, her fingers brushing his as Jasper tried not to make any inappropriate noises.

“Oh the elevator took too long so I decided to take the stairs. I am so sorry for my appearance-“

“It’s okay. I’m just happy to see you.” Just like she was happy to see him, or at least Jasper believed so. Why else would she run up the stairs to get to his office? To get her daily cardio? No, to see him, duh.

“Shall we begin?” Jasper did not listen to a single word she said, his icy blue eyes were too focused on her plump lips and wondering what they’d feel like against his as he pressed her against the wall and-

“Mister Jones?” Jasper snapped out of his musings as his blue eyes met (eye color) orbs. “It’s starting to get really cold in here.”

Jasper immediately realized he accidentally used his powers underneath his desk as his whole face flushed red.

“W-would you like a jacket? I’m sorry, I didn’t notice.”

“Oh um, thanks.” Jasper pulled his jacket off his chair as he wrapped it around (your name)’s shoulder’s, his breath hitching as her cheeks flushed slightly as she bundled into his warm oversized jacket.

Jasper didn’t think she could get any cuter but here she was... in his jacket. Oh lord he was trying so hard not to kiss her right there and then. To not bend her over his desk and tear off her clothes and make the whole department know his name-

“Thank you, Mister Jones.” Jasper placed his hand over his face as his whole face turned a bright red. Oh lord he was going to catch a case at this point. “I’m done with my report, I’ll leave the article here so you can go over it. Thank you for your time, here’s your jacket back-“

“Thank you, (your name). Have a good one!” As soon as she left his office and shut the thick mahogany doors, he fell to his knees as he grabbed his jacked and inhaled greedily. Oh lord it smelled like her. (Your name) smelled like roses and vanilla. She was just so sweet and he swore he’d make that sweet girl all his. Jasper swore on his life.

But first, he was going to add this jacket to his collection. Jasper stood up as he opened up his bottom desk drawer with his key, revealing numerous miscellaneous items that wouldn’t mean much to anyone but they meant the world to him.

There were numerous photos of his beloved darling sleeping and an old toothbrush. As well as a tissue, a spoon, and a chapstick he swiped off her desk when she was out and about. And although Jasper hates to admit it, he used the chapstick on rough days to satiate his needs.

He carefully folded up his jacket and placed it in the drawer as he locked his treasure chest. Jasper then reclined back in his desk chair as he smiled. Jasper couldn’t wait to see her tomorrow across a table from him eating.

Maybe this time he’ll get an even better Momento of her.

Jasper was unaware of the drone outside the complex snapping pictures of his entire interaction as the drone quickly took off, to bring the video evidence to its creator.

(Your name) strolled through the bustling city as she smiled. She was finally off from work so she could have some time to herself.

As the reporter walked down the street, she heard the screams of the other civilians as people began to scatter around as dark storm clouds covered the skies. (Your name)’s eyes widened. Electra was here.

She immediately began to flee until she felt arms wrap around her as she was pulled flush against a soft body.

“Why are you running, little rabbit?” A familiar voice asked as (you’re name began to shake in fear. “You’re so very cute when you shiver. I wonder if you’d shake like that when I-” (Your name) turned a bright red at all the horribly dirty words that came out of the woman’s mouth behind her.

(Your name) was quickly whipped around to face her captor as her (eye color) eyes took in a tall villainous with long silver hair and a black eye mask on as well as a tight black and violet jumpsuit with a long black cape. She looked so familiar...

(Your name) didn’t have time to study the super villain before the villainous pulled her close and surrounded the two of them into an electrical barrier as a flaming hot (literally) heroine stood outside the barrier.

A lean heroine stood outside the barrier, her flaming hair standing straight up as a dragon mask covered her face and her red leotard had black plated armor in the form of scales armor all over it.

Mistress Dragon. (Your name) thought as the red haired heroine put her hands on her hips and glared at the villainous within the barrier.

“Electra! Release that civilian!” The woman boomed in an intimidating voice that was more than likely edited with a voice changing device.

“No chance, Mistress Dragon. Not when your little boy toy is running around as well.”

And soon enough, a ring of ice formed around the entire barrier as a tall, muscular male with the mask of a white fox stood along side Mistress Dragon. His costume consisted of a tight navy blue jumpsuit with silver armor plating with patches of white fur on the shoulders and around the hands and feet.

“Sub-Zero, glad to see you’ve made it.” Electra laughed as she grabbed (your name) and placed her plump lips on her cheek. The barrier dissolved as the two heroes began to circle the villainess, preparing to take action against her.

“What is your scheme this time, Electra?” Mistress Dragon growled as smoke came out from the mouth of her mask.

“I just wanted to warn you that I know both of your identities. All thanks to this cute little rabbit.” Electra cooed as she squished (your name)’s cheeks together. “Isn’t she just precious?”

“Electra, leave her out of this-“ Sub-Zero tried to coax the silver haired villain as the villain began to laugh darkly.

“No.” Electra then grabbed (your name) bridal style as she soared into the air, lavender lightning striking the ground as she rose higher and higher, (Your name) screaming as she held onto Electra tightly out of fear of falling.

Mistress Dragon immediately shifting into a large black oriental Dragon with a fiery red mane and a peculiar septum ring as she swiftly followed behind. Electra cursing under her breath as the dragon quickly caught up to her. She’d have to ditch her prize and come back another time...

“Let her go!”

“Okay.” And before (your name) knew it, she was falling through the sky, plummeting to her death. Her scream piercing the air as tears fell from her eyes. She didn’t want to die, not yet at least.

Before she could even blink, Mistress Dragon shifted and scooped her into her arms as she quickly brought the reporter into her chest, Sub-Zero making a slide for the two to slide down as they made it back to the ground safely. (Your name)’s face flushing red as she studied the masked face of her savior.

“Are you Alright-“ (Your name) pulled Mistress Dragon close as she began to cry.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” (Your name) sobbed as the heroine pulled her into a hug. “How can I ever repay you-“

“How about a kiss?” Mistress Dragon asked as Sub-Zero’s hands began to shake on the sidelines.

“Um s-sorry. I don’t think I can.” (Your name) stayed as she began to twiddle her thumbs together nervously. “I have a crush on someone already.”

“Oh? Well, I respect that.” Mistress Dragon then pulled away as Sub-Zero stepped in.

“May I escort you home?” Sub-Zero asked as (your name) gulped.

“S-sure-“

“Sub-Zero, I think we both need to leave the little lady alone. We could always send a ride to come get her.”

“How about you head into your place of work and ask one of your coworkers for a ride?” Sub-Zero asked the girl as he smiled gently at her.

“I’m sure it’ll be easy to do, you’re quite cute after all.” Miss dragon told the reporter as (your name) nodded and headed back into work. The two heroes immediately leaving the scene before paparazzi could show up.

“Do you need a ride?” (Your name) smiled as her eyes met familiar onyx orbs of her best friend.

“Yes please.”

“(Your name)!” The poor reporter almost cried when Jasper picked her up into a tight hug and twirled her as he sighed dramatically. “I’m so happy you’re okay! You were all over the news! Are you okay-“

“Oh Jesus, leave the poor girl alone.” Ryoko interrupted as Jasper places (your name) down gently.

“Sorry Miss Abo.” Jasper replied as Ryoko quickly began to fix (your name)’s hair and set it back into place as the reporter puffed her cheeks out.

“Please stop touching me you two, I’m okay-“

“(Your name), you poor little girl.” (Your name) was (height) y’all, but go off Ryoko. “We both just worry about you. Mostly me though-“

“No I worry more. I was so scared you’d call off and I wouldn’t be able to give you an awesome assignment.”

“Awesome assignment?”

“Yes, I’m giving you an assignment to write an article on super heroes. I published your article on Miss Spark in the paper and everyone loved it. So I’m giving you a bigger assignment and this time you will be on the biggest magazine here. How would you like to be the main article in Times magazine?”

(Your name) smiled as Jasper handed her the assignment. It was information on the cities top two heroes.

“I need you to write an article on Sub-Zero and Mistress Dragon. And lucky for you, you encountered the two of them recently.”

“Thank you so much, Mister Jones.” (Your name) grasped Jasper’s hand as his whole face turned pink.As soon as she released his hand, he turned and coughed into his hand. Excusing himself to the restroom as he left Ryoko and (Your name) in (your name)’s tiny office.

“I’m seriously glad you’re okay. I honestly thought you were going to take some time off. But I’m happy you’re here. It’s good to have you back.” Ryoko smacked her shoulder playfully as (your name) smiled.

This day was giving (your name) so much confidence. Maybe she’d finally call Miss Spark and accept her dinner date?

(Your name) went over to her black bag, frowning as she noticed her bunny key chain was missing. She shrugged it off, she could always purchase another one.

(Your name) reached into the middle pocket of her bag and pulled out a black card with a domino on the top of it. She released a shaky breath as she slowly dialed the number on the phone. Her (skin color) skin thumb hesitated before she pushed call, sealing her fate.

(Your name) nervously sat at a table for two at a high end restaurant as she nervously sipped on a glass of bubbly white moscato. She really hoped Aria would show up.

(Your name) glanced around the restaurant until (eye color) met violet orbs. (Your name)’s mouth hung open as she took in Aria’s elegant outfit. Aria wore a long, elegant violet dress that had diamonds sewn into it. A long, white shawl wrapped around her to hide her cleavage from wandering eyes as the tall curvaceous woman strut her way over to (your name). Her white hair was up in an elegant bun with a few silvery strands loose around her face. If (your name) didn’t know any better than Aria would be the African American Jessica Rabbit.

“Were you waiting long?” Aria asked as she took a seat in from of the (body type) girl. Aria’s dark chocolate skinned hand touching (your name)’s lightly as the girl almost by turned into a puddle of goo.

“N-no.” (Your name) stuttered as her cheeks flushed pink. “I was kind of just scared that you weren’t going to show.”

“Well of course I would, little bunny. I asked you to dinner and I didn’t expect you to call me.” The woman reached into her silver clutch and pulled out a familiar rabbit keychain. “You remind me of one of these.”

The two of them laughed as they ordered their food and drank numerous glasses of fancy wine. And before (your name) knew it, she was drunk. Very, very drunk. And Aria was nice enough to help her into her limo.

“I think we should call it a night, bunny. You can’t even keep your head up straight.” Aria chuckled as (your name) just gave her a goofy grin as (your name) struggled to get into the limo.

“I really like you, Aria.” (Your name) replied as she began to giggle. “I want to go out again sometime-“

Aria pulled (your name) in for a steamy kiss as (your name) tried to kiss back to the best of her ability. Their tongue moving in sync as Aria pulled (your name) onto her lap and let her hands grab (your name)’s plump read in her hands.

“Let’s go back to my place, shall we?” (Your name) could only smile as Aria shut the partition as they continued their steamy make out session. Thank god the windows of the limo were tinted.

(Your name) woke up with a pounding headache and completely bare in a violet, silk sheeted canopy bed. The bare form of Aria tangled in the sheets with her.

Aria soon stirred, her violet eyes fluttering open as the silver haired woman pulled (your name) closer to her. Her plump lips kissing the exposed skin on (your name)’s neck.

“I didn’t take you for a vixen in the sheets. You were so cute last night.” Aria cooed as (your name) flushes red. “But all those cute hickies on your shoulders are marks that you’re mine.

“Aria-“

“(Your name), I want you to be my girlfriend.” (Your name) smiled as she kissed Aria again.

“Let’s get to know each other better first and then we can be girlfriends. I need a little more time.” Aria nodded as she kissed (your name) on the forehead.

“I understand. I’ll wait for you.”

A few months had gone by since that night with Aria. And (your name) and Aria were officially dating. It was such a surprise to everyone. And everyone was happy for her... except Jasper and Ryoko.

(Your name) could tell Ryoko wasn’t happy about her new relationship status due to how forced her smiles when she occasionally caught glimpses of the purple marks on her neck she didn’t cover up well enough, but Jasper was a completely different level of upset...

“(Your name), I brought you a bouquet of red roses!” Jasper proclaimed as the dark bags under his eyes became more prominent as time went on. He didn’t look like he was sleeping well. His skin was paler than normal and his hands were shaky as he held up the bouquet. “They’re almost as beautiful as you-“

“Jasper, I’m sorry. I’m in a happy relationship. I cannot accept your gift.” The roses were gently placed into her lap as Jasper’s whole body began to shake as he forced a smile.

“A woman can’t be with another woman. Y-you’re just confused is all. You’ll come around eventually.” He gave an uneasy laugh before he clutched his hair in his hands. His pale blue eyes widening as a demented smile made its way onto his face. Jasper crouched down on the floor, his hands holding his face while the smile widened even more. The deranged male beginning to ramble to himself. “You have to... you have to love me or I’ll go even more mad...” Jasper whispered to himself while (your name) quickly scurried over to him and wrapped an arm over his shoulders. The young reporter trying to gain his attention.

“I-I’m sorry, Mister Jones. I just don’t return your feelings and I don’t know if I ever will-“

“One day...”

“Excuse me?” (Your name) asked, raising a brow at him. Jasper whipped his head up, revealing his terrifying smile to her, flashing his pearly white teeth at her.

“You will one day. I swear on it.” Jasper chuckled, pulling her close to him and holding her flush against his chest. He then stood up to his full height, practically picking the girl off the floor while he burrowed his head into (your name)’s hair. Jasper greedily inhaling her scent with the same crazed smile. She still smelled so sweet. Ice began to slowly creep onto (your name)’s jacket as (your name) felt a sudden chill up her spine. Why was she so cold? “You’ll walk down the aisle with me and then you’ll bear my children-“

“Woah, let the little lady go please.” Ryoko separated the two as her eyes widened in shock as Jasper was basically almost revealed his powers in front of everyone. Ryoko immediately stepping in before Jasper could lose his job. “Let’s go to your office and talk, okay? You’re scaring her.”

“I-I’m sorry.” Jasper immediately released (your name), the scared look in her eye making his heart clench as he tried not to have a meltdown. “I don’t know what came over me I-“

(Your name) fled as he tried not to cry out her name as Ryoko led him to his office. Ryoko immediately kicking the door shut behind the two of them as she shoved him roughly into the floor.

“You’re such an idiot. You almost blew your cover in front of everyone!” Ryoko whisper shouted at him as she kicked him in the leg roughly. “Why can’t you just keep it in your pants?!”

“I’m in love with her! You should know! You look at her the same way I do when you think no one’s looking-“ Jasper’s head was suddenly thrown to the side as Ryoko struck him. Ryoko’s dark bangs covering her eyes as she scowled in disgust.

“Don’t ever compare me to you. You’re disgusting-“

“Why don’t we work together for her affections?!” Jasper shouted as Ryoko’s head snapped up. Her Onyx eyes scanning Jasper’s for any sign of him joking as she began to think. She could tell Jasper was serious for once.

“Do you think we could do it? I mean I don’t know how I feel about sharing but do you think she’d be okay with it?”

“What do you mean? We shouldn’t give her a choice, she’d be safe with us. We’re heroes for god’s sake-“

“I know we are but... I want her to be happy...” Ryoko replied as she rubbed her arm nervously, her dark eyes downcast as she began to fidget under Jasper’s intense gaze. “I don’t want to force her into anything with us. It wouldn’t be the same-“

“I know but do you really think Electra would let her go? I mean seriously? Miss Spark isn’t that good at keeping her identity hidden. I’m amazed (your name) hasn’t caught on-“

“(Your name) is oblivious to all of us having powers. I just don’t want to scare her away. She means so much to me. I’m alright with watching her be happy with someone else, unlike you. So long as she doesn’t get hurt.”

Jasper hummed as he glared at the floor.

“So I’m taking it as a no until something happens to her?” Jasper asked as his ice colored eyes glazed over with some hidden emotion.

“Yes.” Ryoko replied as she opened the door. “Good luck, Jasper.” She then left the room as Jasper stood up headed to his desk, he hunched over his desk as he placed his palms flat on the desk. The room’s temperature dropping in temperature as ice began to cover the entire desk.

Jasper’s breathing became ragged as he tried to calm down his rage. His fists clenching to the point that his fingernails began to draw blood in their wake.

He then screamed in frustration as he slammed his fist into the desk, creating a large crack on the wooden surface as he began to take deep breaths to calm himself down.

“She’ll be mine... I swear to god.”

Ryoko sat in her small apartment as she pulled out a cushion and a lighter and carried it to a spare closet in her room.

She then lit the small vanilla scented candles to illuminate the object of her desires as she smiled. Her onyx eyes never leaving the (eye color) orbs of her love.

A large portrait of (your name) sat in the center of the wall as well as pictures of the two of them together. Pictures of every single selfie or pose they took while they were out and about. They had been so close for years, and (your name) didn’t even understand the depth of Ryoko’s feelings for (your name). Ryoko should’ve been more assertive and maybe (your name) would’ve become her girlfriend... Ryoko bowed her head as she began to concentrate on her goal.

“Patience is key... Electra will mess up soon... and then I’ll be there to catch you.” Ryoko face twisted into a smile that seemed unnatural for her petite face as she leaned forward. Ryoko ran her pale hands gently across the portrait as she sighed longingly. “I love you, (your name).”

“Aria!” (Your name) exclaimed as she entered her lover’s office, the silver haired woman shooting up from her desk as a smile made its way to her face.

“(Your name)!” Elegant black heels came running towards the other woman as Aria swooped (your name) into her strong arms. “How was work?”

“It was okay. Jasper was acting strange again and Ryoko has been so distant... I miss my best friend.” Aria’s eyes darkened as she pulled (your name) into her arms and furrowed her brow. Why were those two still bothering her lover)? Did those two imbeciles not understand that (Your name) belonged to her? Maybe she’d have to make her move now before those pesky heroes snatched her up...

“Aria, what’s wrong? Is something bothering you, baby?” Aria tried her best not to melt into a puddle at (your name)’s cute nickname for her.

“I think we should have some dinner at my place tonight. Does wine sound good?” Aria asked as (your name) nodded excitedly, unaware of Aria’s true intentions.

“I’ll eat or drink anything as long as it’s with you!” (Your name) beamed as Aria kisses her forehead tenderly, a frown forming on her face as (your name) buried her face into Aria’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry...” Aria whispered almost inaudibly as she kissed (your name)’s forehead again. She hoped to god (your name) would forgive her...

Drip. Drop. Clink. Clank.

(Your name) slowly stirred awake as she heard the sound of a faucet dripping. Her (eye color) eyes scanning her unfamiliar surroundings. Where was she? This wasn’t Aria’s house.

“I’m so sorry, my little rabbit.” Aria replied as (your name) searched around for her lover.

“Aria? What’s going on? Where am I?” (Your name) tried to stand up to find her lover but was stopped by the chain attached to her ankle. “Why am I chained up-“

“(Your name), I’m Electra.” Aria’s voice rung out in the dark as (your name) gasped.

“Y-you’re joking right? There’s no way-“ a burst of violet electricity shot across the room, activating the lights as Aria stood in the entrance of the dark, windowless room.

“We’re in my secret layer.” Aria replied as her violet eyes began to tear up. “The heroes are after you and I’m just so scared something bad will happen to you. I don’t want you to be caught in the crossfire-“

“Why would they be after me-“

“They’re your coworkers (your name). Jasper and Ryoko are Sub-Zero and Mistress Dragon.” The gears began to turn in (your name)’s head as she tried it process what Aria as saying. How could she not have noticed the signs? The septum ring on the dragon? The coldness she’d always feel around Jasper? It all made sense...

“But why me?” (Your name) asked as Aria frowned.

“You’re too innocent and way too sweet.” Aria replied as her smooth hands grasped (your name)’s face and kisses her forehead. “I have to defeat them and then I’ll let you go.”

“Aria, please don’t leave me like this! Please-“ The room soon became pitch black as the door was shut to the room. (Your name)’s sobs could be heard throughout the lair as her heart broke at her lover’s betrayal.

(Your name had no idea how long she was trapped in that room without seeing Aria. Hours? Days? Weeks? She didn’t know at all.

Creak! Slam!

(Your name)’s head whipped up from the sound of the doorbell opening. Her smile widening as she gazed expectantly at the door. A figure standing in the center of it as (you’re name) began to sob, tears filling her vision.

“Aria-“ The figure soon feel to the ground as two figures walked in. (Eye color) eyes widening in horror as she scooted herself close to the wall.

“W-Who are-“

“I knew we’d find you. It took us a week to get her to tell us where you were. We were so worried when you didn’t come to work.” A familiar voice rung out at she felt a pair of hands on her cheeks. (Eye color) eyes meeting onyx as she gasped.

“Ryoko-“

“(Your name)! Don’t forget about me.” Jasper cooed as he grabbed her free hand and placed a gentle kiss on it. “Oh my poor darling, you’re so skinny. I promise we’ll feed you and we’ll both treat you so very well-“

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh silly little rabbit.” Jasper chuckled as his icy blue eyes began to glow. “You belong to us now.”

“We bring to you breaking news, it turns out Aria Spark of Domino Electric was the dastardly villainess who plagued our city for so long! She is finally captured and placed in the new Super Prison the Hero Association has established far away from here. I also bring to you news that Sub-Zero and Mistress Dragon have officially retired. Who do you think the next rising hero will be of these five-“

Tears filled (your name)’s eyes as Jasper and Ryoko sat on either side of her, both of their hands lovingly rubbing her large, swollen tummy as they both smiled.

“I think our baby will be the next rising superhero. What do you think darling?” Jasper cooed as he kissed (your name)’s cheek as tears fell down her cheek.

“My baby is next! I can’t wait to see you swollen with my little baby dragon. I was able to get a sperm donation from my brother so we can do invitro-fertilization.” Ryoko fondly cooed as she kisses (your name)’s cheek.

In the end, the heroes and villains weren’t so different between each other in her story. While her beloved villain would spend the rest of her life rotting behind bars...

Or was she?

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lemoncrushh · 4 months

Text

Her Album

Summary: Harry has finished recording his album, and he wants her to hear it.

Warnings: Angst, lots of feelings

Word Count: 2.9k+

A/N: A short one-shot written in 2019 in first person from Harry's POV. While this is not necessarily a reader fic, the woman's name is never mentioned. This was written before Fine Line was out, so it's pretty wild to think about it now.

The album was done. I’d made a visit to the studio to hear the final mix and then had lunch with Jeffrey and Glenne. As I drove home, I listened to the songs again in the car, deciding not to stop at my house when I got there, but instead to keep going so I could give one last listen straight through.

I’m not sure how I ended up on her street. It used to be automatic, like taking my shoes off before my trousers, or putting the cap back on the toothpaste. I’d driven down her block so many times before, I probably knew it better than my own neighbourhood.

I sat in the car for a long time, staring up at her window. I wasn’t even sure if she was home. I couldn’t tell if a light was on, but it was the middle of the day and that window was her bedroom, so she could’ve been anywhere else inside. I let the album loop around to the first track again, the opening chords hitting me in the chest just like the first time I’d heard them.

I wanted her to hear them too. I wanted her to listen to the melodies and have them bring back the memories that had inspired me to write them. I wanted her to listen to my lyrics and know they were all about her, even the ones that weren’t as obvious. Songs about love and loss. Songs about sex and lust and forbidden fruit. Songs that sounded like they were about something completely different, hidden behind loose meanings and innuendos.

But they were all about her.

I scrolled through my phone and opened the contacts to her name. We hadn’t spoken in weeks, maybe even months. I’d lost count. Being in the studio had helped to heal my broken heart, and my pride, but it certainly hadn’t erased her memory. She was with me every single day, every moment that I worked on a song.

I almost tapped on her name, my thumb grazing over it. But I stopped myself, turning off my phone, and then my engine. Climbing out of the car, I walked around it to the pavement in front of her building, once again looking up at her window. For a second I considered being like John Cusack in Say Anything, holding up an 80s boom box and serenading her with my music so she’d notice. But I reckoned that was borderline stalking, not to mention disturbing the neighbours, so I made my way to the stairs and climbed them to the second floor.

I stopped in front of her door, staring at it for a good two to three minutes before I even lifted my hand. I took several breaths, wondering if I was making a mistake. She probably didn’t wanna see me, let alone talk to me. She didn’t give a shit about my album. She had moved on.

But I was there. I felt like something had brought me there for a reason, and that reason was to play her my music. Let her know exactly how I felt about her - how she drove me crazy and how she’d hurt me and how I’d hurt her. How in love with her I’d been. How I still…

Finally, I knocked, a little too softly at first, but I didn’t want to startle her. At least that’s what I told myself. When no one responded, however, I knocked again, much louder and with determination.

“Jesus, I’m coming!” I heard her yell from inside. “Hold your-”

She stood before me with a half-eaten apple in her hand, her mouth open and her eyes wide. She wore a t-shirt and shorts, her hair pulled back in a loose bun and no makeup. She looked beautiful.

“Hey,” I said, my voice not quite cooperating so I sounded like a frog.

“Harry.” She said my name in almost a question, though she knew it was me. She just wondered why it was me.

When she didn’t say anything else, I shifted my eyes up and down the hall and shrugged.

“Can I come in?”

I admit, I expected her to nod and step back to let me inside her apartment. But when she shook her head, my face fell.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she remarked.

“Um...why not?”

“Because…” she began, her tone hard as steel, “I just got over you.”

“Over me?” I gulped.

“Yeah. It’s taken me a while, but I finally am,” she explained, placing the apple on the table by the door. Then wiping her hands on her shorts, she leaned against the door frame. “You haven’t shown your face here in nearly three months. I can’t just let you waltz on in here and undo everything.”

“‘m not…” I stumbled, “‘m not undoing anything.”

“Then why are you here?”

Her gorgeous but stern eyes glared at me, piercing through my heart. I looked down at my feet, thinking I’d made a mistake by coming. She didn’t want any more to do with me. I’d waited too long and missed the window. Maybe there hadn’t even been one.

Lifting my head, I looked at her beautiful face again. It was then that I recognized the shirt she was wearing - my old AC/DC t-shirt.

“Looks like you’re not completely over me,” I pointed. I dunno why I said it. It was petty and juvenile.

“What?” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

She looked down at the emblem on her chest, seemingly just realizing what she had on. With a sigh, she dropped her arms.

“I just like it,” she said, her head held high. “And you basically gave it to me anyway.”

“No, I didn’t.” Shut up, H, you’re making it worse, I thought to myself.

“Well, you left it here. And I ended up sleeping in it. And you never came back, so…” She crossed her arms again in defense.

She was right. The last time I’d been in her apartment, we’d had a massive fight, and I’d told her it was over and stormed out. She’d tried calling and texting me for a couple days, but I’d ignored her, stubborn with pride. When I’d finally agreed to talk to her again, I was only being a right twat, unable to see or accept her side. So, we only ended up fighting again until she said she needed some space.

“I was giving you your space,” I muttered, knowing damn well I sounded like a wanker.

“For six weeks?” she snorted and shook her head. “You have some nerve, Harry.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“What was that?” she stepped closer to me, her brows furrowed. “Did you really just say you’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Sorry for what? For breaking my heart? For being a dickhead? For not calling or texting or even saying one word to me for freaking ever? For telling me it was over in the first place? Or for showing up here now when I’m finally over you?”

I blinked. “All of it,” I admitted.

Her lips twitched, and for a second I thought she was going to smile.

“Fuck you, Harry!” she exclaimed.

Stepping back, she grabbed the door, ready to slam it. But I brought my hand up and stopped it.

“I want you to listen to it,” I said, remembering why I’d come.

“Why should I listen to you?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“Not to me. To the album. It’s finished, and I want you to hear it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t be serious. You came here so I’d listen to your new music? You really are a douchebag.”

“No, you don’t understand, I-“

“You’re right, I don’t,” she interrupted. “But seems to me you had weeks to explain yourself, Harry. I’m done crying over you.”

She was about to shut the door again when I called out, “I’ve been crying over you, too!”

She stood still, her hand on the door that was opened only a crack. Leaning her forehead against it, I could tell she was holding back tears. I didn’t want her to cry now, at least not over this.

“Liar,” she croaked.

“It’s not a lie, ba-” I almost called her baby, but I knew she wouldn’t like that. Not yet. “Please. Let me in. You don’t even have to talk. Just listen to the album.”

I stood silent for a moment, watching her eyelashes flutter against her pink cheeks. Finally, she let out a sigh and stepped back, opening the door to allow me to step inside.

“Thanks,” I muttered low as she closed the door behind me.

She didn’t reply. In fact, she didn’t even look at me as she grabbed her half eaten apple and went into the kitchen. I stood in the middle of the living room, waiting for her return.

“Okay,” she gestured toward me as she plopped onto the couch. “Go ahead.”

Spotting her laptop on the coffee table, I pointed. “Do you mind?”

She merely nodded and I sat down next to her and opened it. Then sliding my hand into my pocket, I pulled out the USB drive and plugged it in, bringing up the files I’d saved in the studio. With a click of the mouse, the first track began to play, those familiar chords ringing once again. I sat back and watched her, waiting for some kind of reaction on her face.

But none came.

Not when the first track ended, nor when the second song started, the first lyric blatantly about her. I started to get restless, rubbing my palms on my knees and bouncing my leg. I ran my fingers through my hair, a habit she used to tell me was endearing, only now she didn’t give any indication that she even noticed.

Finally, during the third song, I saw her make the slightest move, leaning against the arm of the sofa and resting her head in her hand. We made eye contact for a second before she quickly looked away, her eyes hazy. I wondered what she was thinking. I wanted so badly to ask, to pry it out of her, but I’d promised she needn’t talk.

We were halfway through the album when I caught more movement out of the corner of my eye. I’d been sat with my head down, unable to look at her during track seven, the most intimate and personal song I’d written. My gaze lifted to her, and I noticed her shoulders were shaking. Her head was still in her hand, her cheeks now wet with tears.

I wanted to reach out, to hold her in my arms. God, I wanted that so bad. But I let her be. I knew she needed to cry without me giving false promises that everything was okay. None of this was okay.

I’d cried when I’d written that song. I’d broken down in the recording booth when I’d sung the chorus for the first time. I only just realized as I watched her body shake with sobs that I’d been an idiot for not telling her how I’d felt. But maybe...just maybe she could finally hear me through my songs.

By the time that track ended, I was in tears too. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, sniffling as I tried to compose myself. I sat back on the couch again, my head leant back. I shut my eyes and listened to the next song, one a little more uptempo. I tapped my fingertips on the cushion at my sides, humming softly. This song was about happy memories, when we’d laid on the beach or beside my pool last summer. When we’d been so in love and hadn’t a care in the world. Before all the fighting and jealousy and…

I almost didn’t feel it at first, her hand brushing mine. It was such a light touch, I thought perhaps I was imagining it, lost in the song. But my eyelids fluttered open when I felt it again. I stared at my right hand on the cushion, her slim fingers over mine. She used to like to do that, when we’d be sat together watching a movie, or lying in bed reading. She’d trace my hand and knuckles with her fingertips, her delicate hand dancing over mine before I’d smile and thread our fingers together. It was an unspoken gesture of affection we’d had. I missed it.

God, I missed her.

I raised my head to look at her. I half expected her to be looking at me too, but she was focused on our hands. Her expression wasn’t one I’d hoped either. She looked sad, her cheeks still tear-stained. I wanted to kiss them, make it all better.

I opened my mouth to say her name, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and she looked at me. I turned my hand over then like I used to, wanting to thread our fingers together. But she pulled away, her jaw set.

“Why’d you do that?” I asked, my voice a deep rasp.

They were the first words either of us had spoken since the music started, and I instantly regretted it, knowing I’d meant to stay silent until the end. We were on track nine now, a couple more songs to go. I still wanted her to hear all of it. I wanted her to know I still felt the same, even though I wasn’t completely over the anger, over the heartbreak. But I’d spilled my guts out in my songs. I was shit at communication, I knew that. I hoped that she could understand it all in my music.

“I...I don’t know,” she whispered.

She crossed her legs then, sat in the corner of the couch. She reached behind her head and pulled at her bun, letting her hair fall freely down her shoulders. She seemed comfortable, at least less resistant than she had when I’d knocked on her door. I could tell she wanted to talk, but she kept her mouth shut because I’d told her she could. I also felt like she was really listening though. And that was really all I wanted.

“That was a really good song,” she surprised me after track ten. But she didn’t say anything more.

Clearing my throat again, I sucked in my lips when the final song started. If track seven had been the most personal, this was the companion to it. This was me giving my heart, me asking forgiveness and giving it back. This was me wanting another chance to prove how I felt about her. I’d known as I was writing and recording it that the possibility of that happening was slim to none. But I had to take a chance. I was tired of keeping it bottled up, being a stubborn prat because I’d wanted my way and had to be right. I was all kinds of wrong. I knew I wasn’t fully to blame for our break-up, but I was taking responsibility and owning up to my part in it. I hoped she could hear that in my voice.

By the time the song was over, my head was in my hands. I perched on the edge of the sofa shaking. I’d already listened to it a handful of times in the studio and in my car, but it hadn’t had the effect it had now, sat in her living room with her beside me. I was sobbing like a baby.

“Harry…” I heard her whisper.

When I lifted my head this time, she was right beside me, her face so close it startled me. Her hands were in her lap, and she wrung them like she was either nervous or was trying to keep herself from touching me.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried. “For everything.”

“I know,” she nodded. “I heard.”

“Will you forgive me?” I asked, turning to face her. I wanted to lift my hand to touch her face but thought better of it. Instead, I hesitantly reached for her hand. I was pleasantly surprised when she let me take it.

“Only if you forgive me, too,” she said.

I let out a deep breath and leant forward. I wanted to kiss her but wasn’t sure if she was ready yet. Lifting my hand this time, I grazed her cheek and wiped a tear away with my thumb.

“I still love you,” I admitted. “I never stopped. I’m just so sorry I waited this long.”

She bit her perfect bottom lip, her big eyes blinking fast.

“I thought I was over you,” she said. “I thought you were over me.”

“Guess we were both wrong.”

She leant into me then, and I took it as my cue. I took her into my arms and kissed her, like I’d wanted to kiss her for months. She felt so good against me, and I quickly found myself shedding more tears.

“We still have a lot to talk about,” she whispered when I released her lips.

“I know,” I agreed. “I promise I’m not walking out this time.”

“Good,” she nodded before kissing me again.

We ended up listening to the album again together while we prepared and ate dinner. There were more tears, but also lots of conversation. We had a long way to go, but I was hopeful.

Something had made me drive down her street. I guess it was me.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

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skipper1331 · 1 year

Text

Mini Swiftie // Jessie Fleming

a/n: based off this request. Hope you like it.

JFlem✔️

i miss you :(

see you tonight? x

you smiled at your phone, pressing the icon to call your girl. Leaving the room where your team mates were sat, watching a movie while you went down to the hotel lobby. "Hey" you said as she accepted your call, "hello, my girl" the freckled girl whispered, slipping out of her hotel room. "How was your day?"

Canada and the Uswnt would face each other at the weekend in a friendly but staying away from your lover was awful. In London you lived together, slept next to each other every day and now not doing so was something neither of you liked. But at least due to the friendly, your teams were in the same town.

One evening, the two of you found a little bench that was located halfway to each of your hotels. It became your spot. "Can i see you tonight?" she repeated her text question "yeah, same time, same place?"

"Yeah"

As you were about to say someting when you saw a glimpse of a small brunette. Kelley. "Gotta go!" Immediately, you ended the call.

You

sorry, Kelley is on her way

see you later x

"Mini Swiftie! We‘re watching your favorite movie and you‘re not there" the veteran ruffled through your hair. Your hands went back in your hair to straighten it. "Who did you talk to lover?" the lover was in the same sing-song voice as your sister performed it, "kelley, you need to stop with these references", you stood up as she dramatically clutched her heart, "don’t blame, love made me crazy" you rolled your eyes, walking to the elevators.

Ever since you made your debut for the senior team, the team loved to tease you with Taylor Swift song lyrics. You get it, you‘re a Swift but it‘s not your fault that she was your older sister, you loved her and she was your biggest supporter (Jess would fight her because according to her, she‘s your number one fan) but sometimes it was heavingly annoying.

"Come on, Mini Swiftie, you didn‘t answer my question!" she ran after you, jumping in the elevator just in time. "My mom" you replied nonchalantly, hoping she wouldn‘t realize that you‘re lying.

Nobody knew about you and the canadian girl and it should stay that way. Compared to your sister, you didn't like the stage. Yes, you played football on a world stage, you became a world champion in 2019, but the comparison to a sold-out stadium and a sold-out Taylor concert was something different. You only got to know peace through the Canadian woman who showed you how it was possible to live in peace despite the fact that you were in the public eye. You loved her for that, you loved her for so many reasons.

Midnight couldn‘t come fast enough. Mal was in a deep slumber already as you were wide awake. Mal and you roomed together all the time, you were one of the og-youngsters, gave your debut together and were great friends so it became a common thing. The forward was always in a deep sleep, you could scream next to her and she wouldn't notice, it made things a lot easier to sneak out of the room and sneak in later in the night without getting caught.

20 minutes before midnight, you got up, dressed yourself in a hoodie and some shorts. Thankfully, the weather wasn‘t cold or rainy. You sneaked out of the room and hotel, walking down the streets to your spot.

"Hi, baby" you greeted your girl as you took a seat beside her, your lips pressing against her cheek. "Gimme a real kiss" the canadian whined, chuckling at her antics, "so needy" nonetheless you gave her the sweet kiss she deserved.

The following days, you met up with Jess at the same time and same place. During the day you hadn’t had much free time so midnight was perfect to update on how your day was and the missing kisses, something important for the both of you.

"Do you think Mini Swiftie is acting weird?" Sonnett asked her friends, looking at you as you smiled at your phone (texting with Jessie) "how come?" Alex asked. Trying to explain what Sonnett meant, Christen cut her attempt short, "give her a rest, she‘s young" you didn‘t hear Christen protect you but if you had, you would‘ve been very thankful. The defender took the matters in her own hands as she looked at Kelley and Alex. They shared a look before they nodded.

"Today was awful" you grumbled as you flopped down next to your girlfriend, ready to rest your head on her chest. "What happened, love?" lovingly, she scartched through your hair, a method to calm you down. "Sonny and Kelley didn‘t leave my side all day long and when I said something they replied with lyrics"

"Oh my girl, you have to tell them If you don‘t like it" her voice was quiet, understanding. "Jess, you know how they are" the midfielder sighed, she knew exactly how they were, "can you just hold me?"

You loved your team mates to death but sometimes they‘re just too much. You had no problem with their teasing, you‘re proud to call yourself a Swift and you didn‘t care If they called you Mini Swiftie but if they don’t give real answer after every spoken sentence of you, only a lyric, it made you angry. That way you couldn't have a real conversation with them and you didn‘t want to either. How do they even come up with (you hate to admit that) a perfect song line in such a short time slot?

"Anything, baby" your girlfriend pulled you closer as she continued to massage your scalp.

"Hey, was Y/n with you guys last night?" Mal asked the group. "No, why?" came the reply from the Room Morgan-O‘Hara, Press-Heath, Lavelle-Mewis and Sonnett-Horan. "Weird" your room mate mumbled. Last night, she drank a cup of coffee before going to bed which was why she had to get up 3 times during the night to go to the bathroom.

The first time was shortly after midnight - your bed empty. She thought you were in the bathroom so she waited, no light was on, you weren‘t there.

The second time was around 2am tending towards 3am - your bed still empty.

The last time she went to the bathroom was around 5am, you were soundfully asleep in your bed.

The big question: where had you been?

"Interesting. She's hiding something from us." Kelley had a mischief smile on her face while clapping her hands together. "Detectives, let‘s go!"

Hard to believe but everyone agreed to Kelley's plan.

"Good night" Mal whispered in to the dark room, ready to fake her sleep. Her back was facing you while you laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling. Mal‘s phone was hidden under her pillow as your team mates waited for a signal. Sonny had even created a groupchat 'Mission: Swift' with Tobin, Chris, Alex, Kelley, Mal, Rose, Sam and Lindsey.

20 minutes before midnight you checked If Mallory was asleep, "Mal, are you up?" she didn‘t answer you - in your eyes she was in her deep slumber. You got out of your pyjama and dressed into the same outfit as usual. The forward could only assume what you did, her eyes closed.

When she heard the door open and shut, she grabbed her phone and texted.

Mal

suspect left the room.

Team Kellex and Preath were down in the lobby, Chris and Tobin sitting at the bar while Kelley and Alex sat in the armchairs which were not in your sight. The other group members were still in their rooms, waiting for the next sign.

Kelley

down.

As soon as they saw Kelley‘s text, everyone sprinted out of their rooms, down the stairs to join the rest of the group. "She went this way" Alex whispered as they arrived, Chris and Tobin already by their sides.

They kept enough distance from you as they followed you yet always had an eye on you. Every once in a while you turned around but didn't see anyone so you just kept walking like nothing happened, maybe your mind was messing with you.

The team felt like fbi agents, working on an undercover case or like they‘re in a movie, either way it was exciting.

"My love, hello" you sat down next to her, giving her a kiss.

"Did she- did she just-" Sonnett started, completely shocked.

"..kiss someone?" Rose ended the question, eyes wide.

Everyone‘s mouth was agape, mini swiftie with a girlfriend? What? "I didn‘t expect that" the tall blonde said, looking at her friends.

"Yeah, yeah, but who is she?" Lindsey chipped in, her curiosity on high-levels.

Tobin was the first to approach you and the mysterious girl by your side, Chris, Kelley and Alex close behind, Mal, Rose, Sam, Sonny and Lindsey following. Tobin scoffed, clearing her throat. It made you turn around, your eyes wide as you stood up, pulling Jessie behind you. The first who opened her mouth was Kelley though, who would‘ve thought. "What‘s this?" Kelley asked, her tone strict, kind of like a mom. The others gathered around you, glaring a the girl behind you "Baby Canada!" Tobin said, walking around the bench. "H- Hi" the canadian gave a little wave, shaking slightly as all the women stared at her. "So?" the small but scary brunette asked, she wanted an answer, everybody wanted. You looked at your girlfriend, you didn't want to tell them anything she wasn‘t comfortable with. "We saw you kiss so don‘t lie to us" Alex added. As Jess nodded with a reassuring smile, you turned back to your team mates "Jessie is my girlfriend. We‘re a couple" you squeezed her hand for your own sake. "Well, well, well, baby Canada" Kelley joined Tobin, intimidating the freckled girl "do we have to give you the shovel talk?" It was Alex who was talking, taking some steps to stand next to Kelley "Stop it guys" you didn‘t like how that turned out at all, you had a feeling that your girlfriend was scared, not that she wouldn‘t face them but it was dark and late and 9 women were just to much. "Go back to the hotel, we‘ll talk in the morning" you said about to walk away with Jess. "What‘re you gonna do?" Rose asked.

"I will walk her to her hotel"

"She‘s old enough to walk alone!" you glared at Kelley. "I don‘t care, I’ll walk her back to the hotel and then go back to ours."

"Well then we‘re all gonna bring her, we won‘t let you walk on your own" Christen added, not liking the feeling to let you walk home alone. She liked that you felt the same way with Jess walking alone.

"Fine"

Jessie and you walked ahead of them as they trailed behind you, gushing over the new information they had about their Mini Swiftie. "I‘m so sorry" you murmured while you pulled her into you, your arm around her shoulders as hers went around your mid section. "It‘s fine, they love you"

"They‘re annoying" you grumbled.

The rest of the walk was spent in silence, you ignored your friends, your only focus: the midfielder in your arms. As you arrived at the hotel, Kelley instantly opened her mouth again "Now say bye, we all want to sleep" rolling your eyes, you looked at your girl, smiling fondly. You were so in love with her. "Good night, my love. Sweet dreams" you pushed your lips against her forehead, not giving her a real kiss as your team mates stared at you. "Good night, baby" she gave your cheek a peck, understanding why you didn‘t give her the proper good night kiss like usual.

You watched her as she entered the hotel, waiting till she wasn‘t in sight anymore before you turned around.

"Tell us everything, Mini Swiftie"

————————

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #chelsea wfc #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #canwnt #canwnt x reader #preath #kellex #uswnt

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trueshame · 5 months

Text

Live streaming gamer attacked and stripped naked during live broadcast

Location: Croatia 🇭🇷 Year: 2019 Genre: Stripped Naked

Young man who was playing computer games and was live on a webcam with his fans went to open the door because someone had knocked. He muted himself but didn't turn off the webcam. After opening the door he was attacked by the intruder who beated the gamer and stripped him naked in front of approximately 40 watchers. Then the intruder walked the naked man outside and since then the webcam transmition has lasted for almost 90 minutes! The man didn't come back by this time and the broadcast was terminated, probably by the streaming platform staff.

We do not know why the man was stripped and walked out of the apartment. Some comments said that it was due to unpaid rent for the apartment, the other said the man insulted the intruders girlfriend and he walked the gamer outside to make him apologize to the woman.

The video has no sound so we cannot know what the men were talking to each other. But they are talking for sure.

The Naked Man (NM)

Name: Unknown Age: 25-28 (estimated) Nationality: Croatian (based on the t-shirt logo)

Before being stripped we can see a young man in his 20s sitting at the computer desk with earphones, talking to his fans. The man has a skinny-fat body type. His hair are dark. We can notice pale, almost pasty skin.

The man puts down his earphones and mutes himself from the webcam. But doesn't turn it off. Probably he was in a hurry to quickly open the door and go back to play games. Sadly, the man who was knocking the door had other plans for him.

The man was thrown on the ground several times and had his clothing removed, almost piece by piece. We can see that the man is fighting back, trying to keep his pants on and block the slaps he's receiving from the intruder.

Finally the man has everything removed from his, except his socks. He gets pushed hard and falls down on his butt, revealing his hairy dick to all his confused and now flushed fans. At this point someone probably reported the forbidden content that further led to broadcast termination.

After being pushed, the man got up and ran inside the other room, which looks like a bathroom. The Clothed Man (CM) walks after him and after a short time the naked man appears again, fighting for his dignity.

The man was exposing his naked ass to the webcam while trying to fight the intruder from further slapping him. He was pushed inside th bathroom again. We estimate that the intruder was trying to take the man socks off too, but he dropped that idea later.

Finally the man was successfully walked out of the apartment, leaving his viewers confused. We can only imagine what had happened to him next: was he paraded naked on the neighbourhood? Was he forced to apologize naked? Was the police called and arrested both men? This mistery remains unclear since 2019.

The Clothed Man (CM)

There is only two images of the clothed man: when he walks inside the bathroom and then when he walks out, leading the naked man out.

According to some online comments, he might be a landlord annoyed with his tenant who was not paying rent or he was the boyfriend of a woman the naked man insulted the day before. We didn't find any facts that would support any of these thesis.

#croatia #enm #stripped naked

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rosenotactuallyquartz · 2 months

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Hii!! I think I saw you asking for more pearlrose comic moments so I can give you a funny one: on issue #33 from 2019 Peridot accidentally gets Pearl hyperfixated on a fictional character in Camp Pining Hearts called Counselor....... Peony (very subtle) 😭 She was all judgy at first but the way her eyes SPARKLED when she saw the character... “I hate this kind of enterta-- pink?? lady?? say no more!!”

JUST LOOK AT HER. Her EYES. Get someone who looks at you the same way Pearl looks at her new beloved blorbo.

I love her so much.

another pearlrose moment from the steven universe comics, issue 33, 2019

thank you so much, i love this. i love pearl saying she was wondering when [penny] was coming back, because penny reminds her of rose. it almost seems like a subtle reference to love like you, but that’s probably just me. i also love pearl’s sassy side, and i love that we got to see that in the comic.

please feel free to send more pearlrose comic moments and i’ll share them here, with an image description ! also, gigi-mari, i think you’re the person who sent me an ask about it’s over, isn’t it. i’m writing a long post that answers another ask right after this, but it includes a part where your question should be answered because it has quotes from creators and everything ! but i am so sorry for the late responses, people. catching up on asks now after just personal things,, but they’re always open and i love asks so much

🩷

[image description: the first image depicts pearl standing in front of amethyst and peridot, who are sitting on a couch in the living room. amethyst says: “yo, pearl! come watch this show with us! this kid looks like he’s gonna blow up!” pearl sits down as the show from peridot’s tablet says, “one more,” and “percy, please!” and amethyst says, “he’s totally gonna hurl,” with pearl adding, “why did he eat all that pie? of course he’s going to be sick.” they all sit around peridot’s tablet, amethyst and peridot with excited expressions and pearl with a disgusted expression.

the second image depicts pearl saying, “i’m afraid i don’t see the appeal of watching a child gorge himself on dessert.” peridot says, “it’s not about that, it’s about campers and…” pearl interrupts her by saying, “wait, who’s that?” peridot says, “that’s counsellor penny.” on the screen is a woman with wavy hair resembling rose, a camp counsellor who says, “great work, everyone!” peridot says, “she’s one of the four supreme leaders of the camp, in charge of watching over everyone from the arts and crafts cabin to the dining hall.” pearl has stars in her eyes and her hand over her mouth, staring in adoration. peridot adds, “in season five, she—” but amethyst cuts her off with, “i like her shorts.”

the third image depicts pearl, suddenly very immersed in the show. the screen says, “i love you, penny! don’t leave the camp!” and penny replies with, “i’m sorry, patrick, but there are campers who need me out there around the world!” pearl says, “she’s so dedicated to her cause!” and peridot says, “according to the camp pining hearts online encyclopedia, she went to be on a season of paw and order, whatever that is.”

the fourth image depicts pearl and peridot watching the show as it’s gotten dark outside. pearl says she was wondering when penny would come back. peridot says, “but…”

the fifth image has pearl, amethyst, and peridot. peridot says, “so much more of the plot and story could be explored if they didn’t waste time on the romance! and it’s not even good romance! it’s all wrong!” and pearl agrees. the next panel has steven watching them as pearl says, “as a show so preoccupation with romance, it can’t seem to recognize how counsellor penny is much too good for a man like patrick. in the final panel, steven is smiling as he watches the three of them talk and laugh together as the show plays. end of image description.]

#asks #ask me anything #pearlrose #steven universe #crystal gems #pink diamond #su #su rose quartz #su pearl #su peridot #su amethyst #su steven #su comic

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my-vanishing-777 · 1 month

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A World Without Men

The women of South Korea’s 4B movement aren’t fighting the patriarchy — they’re leaving it behind entirely.

Youngmi’s childhood was a difficult one. The 25-year-old nurse was born to a poor family in Daegu, South Korea, known for being one of the most conservative cities in the country. Youngmi’s mom left the home when Youngmi was young to escape her husband’s physical abuse, leaving her and her sister behind with him and their paternal grandmother. When she was 5, her 8-year-old sister started losing her hair from stress.

As she grew older, Youngmi found herself depressed, unsure of what her future held, and financially unstable. In Korea’s patriarchal society — in which women are generally expected to defer to their fathers and to adhere to rigid beauty standards — she felt like a perpetual victim, obsessed by the wrongs done to her by her father and pressured into maintaining her appearance in order to please men. Despite her meager budget as a nursing student, she purchased new clothes each season, spending a lot of money on cheap, poor-quality clothes from H&M. She wore makeup religiously. “I could not go outside without any makeup. I felt ashamed of my face,” she said. “I had this pressure of wanting to look beautiful and wanting to be desirable, physically or sexually.”

While scrolling through Twitter in 2018, Youngmi came across footage of protests taking place in the streets of Seoul. In South Korea, where cases of femicide, revenge porn, and dating violence are widespread, a surge in spy-cam sex crimes, overwhelmingly committed by men, had mostly resulted in fines and suspended jail sentences, if they were prosecuted at all. That was not the case, however, for one 25-year-old woman who had taken a nonconsensual photo of a nude male model at art school and posted it online; she was sentenced to ten months in prison and court-ordered sexual-violence counseling. The demonstrations were a reaction to the blatant hypocrisy.

Youngmi was moved by the solidarity she saw, but there was one thing she found perplexing: Many of the women at the protests shaved their heads on-camera. As she began to follow more feminist Twitter accounts, Youngmi understood this was a public act of rejection of those same aesthetic expectations imposed on Korean women that have made the country a leader in grooming products and plastic surgery. She began to realize that “you know, men do not do that — men do not feel the pressure to buy clothes every season or wear makeup.”

Soon, Youngmi shaved her head, too, and stopped wearing makeup, joining the so-called “escape the corset” movement happening among young women in South Korea. The movement, which first gained popularity in 2018, saw Korean women publicly turn away from societally imposed beauty standards by cutting their hair short and going barefaced. (Youngmi was not alone — in 2019, a survey found that 24 percent of women in their 20s reported cutting back their spending on beauty products in the previous year, with many saying they no longer felt they needed to put in the effort.) This eventually led Youngmi to “4B,” a smaller but growing movement among Korean women. 4B is shorthand for four Korean words that all start with bi-, or “no”: The first no, bihon, is the refusal of heterosexual marriage. Bichulsan is the refusal of childbirth, biyeonae is saying no to dating, and bisekseu is the rejection of heterosexual sexual relationships. It is both an ideological stance and a lifestyle, and many women I spoke to extend their boycott to nearly all the men in their lives, including distancing themselves from male friends.

Through open chat groups on KakaoTalk, Youngmi connected with other feminists in Daegu, where she lived with her mother while attending nursing school, soon meeting each other offline. (“It’s so easy to recognize each other with short hair,” she said.) She stopped seeing her friends from high school and middle school whose conversations still revolved around makeup, clothes, and boys. When we met last November at a café in Seoul, where she’s been living for the last two years, she was barefaced and dressed comfortably in loose jeans and a white fleece jacket. Her hair was long enough to be pulled back in a ponytail, as she’d grown tired of people asking about her short hair at her nursing job, but it was tucked into a white baseball cap. Feminism, she said, had helped her recognize that it was patriarchy that was the problem, not her — that “the bad things that happened in your life are not your fault,” she said.4B is shorthand: bihon, is the refusal of heterosexual marriage. Bichulsan is the refusal of childbirth, biyeonae is saying no to dating, and bisekseu is the rejection of heterosexual sexual relationships.

For Youngmi and many others who subscribe to its basic premises, 4B, or “practicing bihon,” is the only path by which a Korean woman today can live autonomously. In their view, Korean men are essentially beyond redemption, and Korean culture, on the whole, is hopelessly patriarchal — often downright misogynistic. A 2016 survey by the Ministry of Gender Equality and Family found the incidence of intimate-partner violence at 41.5 percent, significantly higher than the global average of 30 percent. While 4B’s adherents may hope to change society — through demonstrations and online activism, and by modeling an alternative lifestyle to other women — they are not trying to change the men whom they view as their oppressors. It is too soon to tell whether this movement can survive and thrive over the long haul. But its ideas and actions have already affected the country’s online discourse, its politics, and most of all, individual women’s lives.

“Practicing bihon means you’re eliminating the risks that come from heterosexual marriage or dating,” Yeowon, a 26-year-old office worker, told me on a café terrace in the seaside southern city of Busan. We talked over coffee and pastries, along with Yeowon’s girlfriend and another of their friends, all of them wearing wide black pants and black sweaters and sporting cropped short haircuts. Those risks Yeowon alluded to might seem familiar — trading career for child-rearing and housework, as well as the threat of physical violence — but in Korea, Yeowon said, marriage presents an existential threat.

There was a time when Minji, a 4B adherent in Daegu, had wanted to get married, “because, you know, everyone wants to get married.” Knowing what she knows now, however — like that domestic violence, as she puts it, is so common — “I don’t want to get married anymore.” Minji, 27, is probably heterosexual, she said, and has liked a few guys in the past, but they wanted her to “treat them like a king.” So she has no problem boycotting the men of her generation, who are little better than her selfish and abusive father.

Even young women who are not members of the movement echo that they could not imagine dating or marrying a Korean man. Sooyeon, a teacher in her early 30s, told me that talking to her male friends “made me always feel like, ‘Oh, maybe I can never find a Korean man’ … Even in my generation, some guys expect a really traditional role from their spouse.” As if to prove her point, a recent survey by a matchmaking company found that women were reluctant to marry because of the division of housework, while men hesitated because of “feminism.”

t is unclear how widespread or popular the 4B movement is given its fluid online and offline nature and its evolution over the years, beginning sometime around 2015 or 2016 when a simple “no-marriage” lifestyle grew to include a boycott of men and reproductive labor more broadly. One article estimated 50,000 adherents; others have put the movement’s numbers at under 5,000. Its origin story is similarly complex, though its contours can be traced.

Following years of financial crises in which young people faced growing housing costs and intense competition for university spots and jobs, the way women and men related to each other openly soured. Beginning in 2013, the rate of college enrollment among Korean women surpassed those of men; today, nearly three-fourths of women are enrolled in higher education, compared with less than two-thirds of men. Previously, women were expected to drop out of the labor force after marriage or parenthood. Now, young men see their female peers as competitors for increasingly scarce jobs. (Several academics I spoke with noted to me that Korea is largely ethnically and racially homogenous, making gender the default and central societal fault line.) In online forums and on social media, disgruntled men began labeling college-educated women kimchinyeo, or “kimchee women,” giving a name to “the stereotype of Korean women as selfish, vain, and obsessed with themselves while exploiting their partners,” wrote feminist scholar Euisol Jeong in her doctoral thesis on “troll feminism.”In their view, Korean men are essentially beyond redemption, and Korean culture, on the whole, is hopelessly patriarchal — often downright misogynistic.

Around 2014 and 2015, a virulently misogynistic and anti-feminist community called “Ilbe” grew in size and prominence. In its interpretation, women were demanding additional rights and privileges when they already benefited from avoiding the country’s compulsory military service. To the Ilbe community, the entire female populace is gold-digging and shallow. Female Korean internet users responded by latching onto misogynistic strategies like trolling, mockery, and abusive language. Members of Megalia, one of the more prominent feminist sites in this period, coined the term hannamchung, or “Korean male-bug,” which stereotyped Korean men as “ugly, sexist, and obsessed with buying sex,” wrote Jeong.

In 2016, a young man murdered a young woman in a Seoul public bathroom, telling police after that he killed her because women had always ignored him. Despite the perpetrator’s own statement, police refused to label the murder a hate crime. Furious, women flocked to online feminist message boards, communities, and chat forums. This wave of digital feminism attracted women from all backgrounds, including working-class women like Minji and Youngmi, making it different from traditional Korean feminism, which was largely confined to universities, NGOs that often received government support, and other elite spaces.

In December of that year, as Korea’s fertility rate hovered at 1.2 births per woman (it has since slid to 0.78, the lowest in the world), the Korean government launched an online “National Birth Map” that showed the number of women of reproductive age in each municipality, illustrating just what it expected of its female citizens. (South Korean president Yoon Suk-yeol won the election in March 2022 with a message that blamed feminism for Korea’s low birth rate, and a promise to abolish the country’s Ministry of Gender Equality and Family. ) Women were outraged by the map, observing that the government appeared to consider them “livestock”; one Twitter user reportedly created a mock map illustrating the concentration of Korean men with sexual dysfunction. Several of these digital feminists responded with a boycott to the reproductive labor expected by the state and decided that the surest way to avoid pregnancy was to avoid men altogether. It was through these online communities that 4B emerged as a slogan, and ultimately a movement.

The blowback and fear that 4B practitioners experience underscores their conviction that Korea is still a frightening place for women. Yeowon’s photo was posted on an Ilbe site after participating in a feminist protest, and she was harassed and sexually threatened online for weeks. Youngmi said men have tried to physically attack her on the street three or four times. She recalled an episode when she and some friends, who all had cropped haircuts, were dining at a Japanese restaurant in Daegu. Throughout the night, the restaurant owner and his friends made gagging and puking noises and gestures at them. When Minji and I met at a coffee shop near the city’s central train station, she told me she was worried that someone in the café might post a photo of her online because she had short hair and was speaking openly about feminism. Others I spoke with insisted on using pseudonyms for safety reasons.

There are other consequences to forgoing long-term partnerships with men. Korea has the largest gender pay gap in the rich world, with women earning 31 percent less than men, and women still face widespread discrimination in the labor market, something the movement recognizes. A widely circulated 2018 tweet encouraged 4B women to save the money they would have otherwise spent on “self-fashioning labor” to sustain an independent life instead of winding up “a penniless granny with a wardrobe full of clothes.”

Women who commit to 4B “just work hard, because they know they will not have a breadwinner man or husband,” said Jeong, the scholar who wrote her doctoral thesis on troll feminism, adding that some take two or three jobs. Youngmi and her girlfriend live together about an hour by subway outside of downtown Seoul where rent is more affordable. Yeowon said her small studio apartment, the best option she can afford right now, is in an unsafe neighborhood near a market where drunken men often congregate after the local bars close. Her partner, who works in IT, recently moved apartments because her last one had cockroaches.

Several 4B women I met in Seoul still lived with their parents. Yeowon’s partner lives by herself but still eats at her parents’ house several times a week, even though they are no longer emotionally close. Her mother’s cooking is excellent, she said, and it saves her time and money. “I treat it like a restaurant,” she added. Youngmi and her friends created a map of women-owned businesses in Daegu so they could ensure their dollars went to supporting other women. “The economy is a very important issue for us,” she told me. Other 4B groups host events with personal-finance experts to help women learn how to save and invest. A subgroup of an online community called “WITH” (which stands for “Women in the Hell,” Hell being a nickname for Korea) is specifically focused on economics; members post job listings, advice on which banks are offering the best interest rates, and other financial tips. Han, a math tutor who runs her own tutoring company in Daegu, said she believes as women’s collective economic power grows, so will their political power, something she sees playing out over the next 20 years. Their interest in finance is both about the pressing matter of living an economically viable life today and the longer-term possibility that women practicing 4B at scale will eventually weaken the patriarchy. “When women are more economically influential, then it’s possible that the political parties will listen to women as important voters,” Han added. “But until then, I feel like women will still be utilized — their bodies will be utilized to reproduce.”

But it’s not just political backlash and straightened economic circumstances that pose a threat to the long-term sustainability of 4B and its influence. Like any social movement, 4B has its own internal rifts and divisions: Can 4B women be friends with men? With women who still want to date men? Does lesbianism privatize relationships, destroy feminist solidarity, and resexualize women, or is it a necessary foundation for a world without men? Some 4B practitioners also were turned off by the movement’s focus on cisgender women to the exclusion of trans women; many of the online communities require verification with a photo ID attesting to the applicant’s sex, and Minji said that one of the feminist communities she joined asked her to submit a video of her Adam’s apple, ostensibly to ensure she wasn’t assigned male at birth. But regardless of where they stand on these questions, for the more than a dozen 4B practitioners I met in Korea, these were academic disagreements that had little impact on their own personal commitment to living apart from men.

For a movement born of rage, what happens when the rage mellows or when other concerns take priority? Yeowon said some of her friends are “selective feminists” who forgo makeup when they meet up with her, but are ultimately not ready to give up the advantages that come with being conventionally attractive. “They cannot let go of this power as women, of using femininity,” she said. “There are these feminists who say, ‘Oh, I’m a feminist, I hate men, but I also want to be, you know, consumable.’” She and her friends described videos on YouTube of ex-bihon women who told viewers that they’d seen the light and returned to heterosexuality, narratives that recall the profusion of #TradWife content online.

At least for now, it is clear that the message of 4B, regardless of how it is practiced, or however closely its followers identify with the label, has provided a refuge for Korean women. Taekyung, 24, is getting her master’s degree in German literature at Ewha University, an all-women’s university with a robust campus feminism movement and a respected gender-studies department. On a beautiful fall day, she proudly walked me around the campus, which dates from the 1880s, showing me the campus gift shop and the area where students socialize and sometimes take naps.

She has tried to avoid men since high school, after doing a research project on Ilbe that brought her to web pages where men had posted nude photos of their female family members and discussed how to get away with rape. She went to Sungshin Women’s University, another all-women’s university, for undergrad. She doesn’t believe in labels for her own sexual orientation and has little interest in dating other women, but she does believe in political lesbianism as a way for women to establish lives separate from men — with an emphasis on the “political” rather than the “lesbian.” “I don’t need to try being a lesbian, because in political lesbianism, I can just be a person, like a normal person — a human being. I can be in a safe place,” she told me as we drank sweet-potato lattes at a campus café. The most important thing, in her view, is the absence of men. “Always, when I use the word ‘safe place,’ it means the place for women.”

For a movement born of rage, what happens when the rage mellows or when other concerns take priority?

Reporting for this story was supported by the Pulitzer Center.

#4B movement #radical feminism #female chauvinist

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star-girl69 · 1 year

Text

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of cannibalism, mentions of murder, mention of suicide, mentions of death, animal death, violence and gore, swearing, tell me if i misses anything!!

Chapter Seven - In the Before

—-

2021-

After taking the weekend off of work to avoid Jessica Roberts, Sunday night rolled around, and as you set out your outfit for the next morning, you were reminded distinctively of nights before school, that same dreadful feeling.

You also thought about the moment right before you picked a card.

The knock at your door was unexpected, so you frowned even as you opened it, and a short woman with curly blonde hair smiled widely at you.

“Y/N!” she shouted, throwing her hands out, like she was gonna hug you, but you pulled back.

“Do I know-?” But then she adjusted her glasses in a way that was so distinctively her. “Misty?”

She smiled wider.

“And I brought a friend!” she winked, and you frowned even more, tempted to shut the door on her face.

You peered around her, until a voice came from just next to you, a hand suddenly resting on your doorframe.

“Y/N,” she said, and it was the voice that you could hear through violence, through mountains and rivers and thousands of miles. The voice that brought you through the violence and into the peace, brought you out of the wilderness.

“Natalie,” you whispered after a moment. Her face appeared around the corner, and she looked just like she did in 2019- black leather jacket, black hair, her lips pulled into a tight line.

“Y/N,” she said again. Like she was saying your name just to say it, just to make sure you were there. “Travis… Travis is dead.”

—-

1996-

After your turn of carrying Coach Ben, you were eager to be near the front, closer to the end, following close behind Van and the compass she had taken from the cockpit.

You kept your eyes peeled for anything edible along the trail you followed, naturally carved out by generations of animals moving from the forest to the lake.

You stopped, crouching down to brush aside a small string of english ivy, only to find inedible winterberries. You sighed, standing back up and taking another good look at this section of the forest.

Someone stood next to you.

“You know, it’s pretty cool that your mom’s a botanist.” You looked at Natalie and smiled softly, wondering if you could run your fingers through her hair like it was strands of ivy.

“Yeah,” you muttered, falling into step beside her.

“I mean it’s really cool for us, because we would be even more screwed than we already are if we didn’t know what was safe to eat out here,” she laughed. “I probably would have eaten those elderberries or whatever raw and died.”

“You go around eating random stuff in the forest a lot?”

“It’s my favorite past-time,” she chuckled, and suddenly her hand brushed against yours, and it was like the lightning that had brought your plane down.

Her skin felt like violence, everything about her did, but you still wanted to sink into her.

You weren’t a fool. Natalie was beautiful, but what was even the possibility of her liking girls?

You pushed the thought out of your mind and shut up before you could say anything stupid.

—-

2021-

You had loved Natalie far too recklessly and far too much. Inthe wilderness, you loved her enough to even let her eat you. But after, when you came back, and saw that love wasn’t about suffering- you still couldn’t let her go.

She was as much deep into your soul as the wilderness was.

If someone were to cut you open, dig around in your soul, they would find your messed-up organs inside, and her, and the wilderness.

She was violence, and once, in a world full of violence, she made you feel safe and loved. She held you at night and made sure there was meat in your stomach, even if you had to hunt it, or kill it.

But in the real world, you weren’t hungry, and you were still scared- but not in a way that bonded you to her. Not anymore.

After Misty had invited herself in, and Nat had followed her, all you had been able to do was sit on the couch. Natalie stood, far away from you, while Misty made you something to drink and sat next to you, rubbing your shoulder.

Even after all these years, you couldn’t tell if her sympathetic smile was genuine.

Everyone in that plane crash had left something permanent, a scar, on your memory. You remembered everyone who died- from Pilot Fred to everyone who was killed to keep the rest alive. To keep you alive.

“How- how can he be dead?”

“Oh, he killed himself,” Misty frowned, much too calm and happy considering that someone you once had killed alongside with was dead. “We found him- hanging from a construction crane.”

“I don’t believe he killed himself.”

You looked at Natalie, and now it was your turn to look her up and down, your eyes wide and your bones stiff, mouth parted slightly even now in horror. You could imagine a pair of work boots swinging from the air.

It was a while before you could find the courage to speak.

“How did you find me, Natalie?”

Misty took a breath as if to answer-

“I didn’t want to, Y/N. I got the message loud and clear but- Travis is dead, n-” she stopped herself from saying that word.

You cut her a sharp glare, squeezing the handle of the untouched coffee mug Misty had made you.

There was too much associated with that word, an entire other life you had lived- drawing cards, eating too-tough meat, sinewy and chewy, her voice that you loved, whispering, calling you that nickname as she handed you another piece of your friends.

Once you had loved that name. You had loved being hers.

But you were not that girl anymore.

And Natalie wasn’t either.

“Sorry,” she whispered after a moment. She stared into your eyes then looked away, digging her hands into her pockets.

This- this wasn’t the Natalie you knew.

The girl who you had loved in the wilderness wasn’t the same girl as you loved in 2019. But still- things stayed the same. This was like an entire different person. Like someone had crawled into your skin.

You imagined a skeletal hand, clutching a pair of spindly scissors, making a slice down her back to step into.

“But you deserved to know.”

You had always loved her far too much.

—-

1996-

You were the first to smell it. It smelled like the jaws of death, like the remnant of every horrible meal- innocent or not.

“What’s that smell?” you asked, pressing your sleeve to your face.

“I don’t know,” Natalie said back, looking around the forest, until Lottie gasped. “Holy shit.”

Flies swarmed about it, reminding you of the sound a hot summer day made, a glittering blue pool, something cold in your hand, a bright sun- there wasn’t the carcass of a bear, left half eaten, being picked on by a crow. It’s organs fell out of it’s ripped apart stomach, and the blood on the ground had long since dried.

“Oh, God, I’m gonna puke,” you heard Jackie moan.

You groaned to yourself, looking away from the dead thing.

“Woah. Sick,” Travis remarked.

“What could have done that?” Shauna asked, and she was right. What could kill a fucking bear?

“A wolf, probably,” Coach Ben said.

“They can kill a fucking bear?” Nat asked.

“Yeah. Wolves can kill anything if the pack’s big enough.”

Nat stared at it longer, you standing next to her, not wanting to drift far away- even like this.

“Let’s keep moving,” she announced suddenly, sharing a look with you before marching down the trail.

—-

The closer you got to the lake, the more serene the forest became, like this place was a truce- nothing bad could come near the lake, near that vital life-giving place of water.

But, the journey was wearing on all of you, and you were all slowing down. And without the sports experience like the other girls had, you were struggling especially.

“Ah!” you yelped as your foot got caught on a root- you could barely even look at the ground, your eyes wanting to close, wanting to give up. Not even the promise of the lake was enough anymore.

Natalie grabbed onto you quick, one of her arms around your chest, like it was on the plane, the other gripping onto your shoulder.

“Woah, you okay?” she asked, helping you walk over to the side of the trail, to lean against a tall oak tree.

“I’m not a soccer player,” you groaned, “I just write about it. I don’t- don’t have the stamina like you guys…”

“Hah, hah,” Natalie said, squeezing your hand. “You’re fine. I feel like I’m dying too. Don’t worry,” You shot her an exasperated look, and she studied your face, before looking back down the path. “This shit is way longer than four miles. What if we missed it?” she asked, raising her voice so the rest of the team could hear her.

“From the angle of the sun, it looked just left of due north.” Taissa responded, her voice sounding heavy and weighted. Natalie rolled her eyes, tugging you back onto the path with a hand wrapping around your arm.

“Oh, great. ‘Left.’ That’s a precise way of doing it.” Jackie said, sarcasm dropping from her words.

“I’m not a fucking cartographer,” Tai shot back.

“Or maybe you saw a mirage.”

Each step like it was weighed down by a hundred pound weight. You felt sick and horrible, and you wanted nothing more than to lie still in the shade, or jump into whatever lake Taissa had seen, real or not.

You would even jump into a pool of blood, a swamp, as long as in your mind it felt like cool water.

“Oh, shit.” Van suddenly said, waving her arm frantically. “Oh, hell yeah, bitches!” she shouted, and when you looked at the direction she was running off to, there was a lake just visible through the trees.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydoki

#yellowjackets x reader #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader

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witch-oftheflowers · 7 months

Text

Ximena HCs: Military Background

AN:here's a little headcanons I have for Ximena. A bit to learn more about her. I will probably add to this last as I develop her character. ENJOY!🌟

TW: SA mentioned. Very Brief literally just the term SA. But I wanted to warn in case!

Masterlist

Ximena is a plus size woman. Curvy with a stomach, but she's very flexible and has a lot of muscle even if she doesn't look it~

She's short. Her 22' version is 5ft 4in. Her 09' version is 5ft 9in.

Yes I have two versions. But I focus primarily on her 22' self.

She's a Mexican immigrant, she was 9 when she immigrated with her family to England.

She still has an accent, especially since her family made monthly or yearly trips back home

Most of her family had served. It being military, police force, or firefighters. She wanted to follow that lineage

She's really intelligent. One focus that many sought her for. She's learned so far 7 languages; Spanish, English, German, Korean, French, Japanese, Russian. *Currently learning Chinese and Dutch*

Medically trained, first started as a medic. But a few higher ups saw potential in her as a trained soldier, which she switched to

Ximena was ignored and pushed down a lot. Especially dealt with racism.

As she built her career and became a respected soldier over time

She was asked to assist with covert missions, where she shined

Came back quick, had multiple wins for herself.

Eventually, she was 'asked'(forced) to work with a well regarded soldier Simon Riley.

Side note: THEY HATED EACH OTHER

Eventually they got along, did start dating but we're not gonna go into details here~

A tragic event happened that defined her resilience. And her ties to Simon. TW: SA. That's it won't dive into it-

She witnessed Simon becoming Ghost.

She was asked to assist with Price's unit Bravo Team. She dons Bravo-2 as her call sign

She has a jumbled up career. Doing solo missions, infiltration, along with covert missions.

A few solo missions she was acknowled for was bringing down human trafficking circles, arms deals, along with sabotage for terrorist groups-

During 2018 she was asked to infiltrate the Inner Circle and figure out their motives. This was assigned by General Shepherd's who seek her expertise

She did infiltrate it. At one point she was Vladimir's right hand woman, and partner.

When the events of 2020 happened and the team was brought in to handle the terrorist attack Vladimir created. She was the rat that spilled the tea.

She didn't know how he was gonna escape. But she did know he would try.

The airport was thankfully empty out. A key note of that, Ghost wasn't left at the airport for that reason. Well I say 👀

Vladimir had a feeling it was her, but he was a coward as they had him in the helicopter. Even throwing swears and phrases to her in Russian. Soap was allowed to knock him out

What they found out was she was abused and tortured during her time. She came back from her long curly hair to a short fluffy bob. Even a few new scars on her face. Along with her being colder.

General Shepherd's did apologize for her going dark for two years. Even gave her a medal for her efforts. But she denied it, not wishing to be reminded of the time.

When Laswells asked her to assist with Task Force 141, it was during her covert mission. She was gone four days. She suffered punishment for it in the Inner Circle but it was needed at the time during 2019

When Las Almas happen, she was asked to join the two boys going out- especially since she was from Mexico. She did decline. Just helping from the sidelines

(At this time Ximena and Simon had 2 kids already. Thinking about another one-)

The chaos of the betrayal to the problems with missiles being lost and anywhere was a lot

When they finished with Graves and his Shadows, she cut her ties to Shepherd. Even if he created her to be who she was today

At the time of the missiles she was allowed a leave..due to medical reasons.

When she regroup with the lads in the bar. She was excited, but she was asked to help with just Intel from that point on. Seeing she had to for her medical leave she would be taking them on.

(she was pregnant. Third baby on the way! Ghost was worried not gonna lie, his precious wife was out in danger just a week ago and she was pregnant??)

During 2023, and the events leading up.

Once Makarov was known to be loose. She was secured and safe along with her kids. Monitor for her and her family safety since she was his rat years ago

She helped pinpoint locations, dealt with Shepherd when he wanted back in. Even gave them codes and security by pass with the Koni group.

She heard about Johnny getting injured and how Makarov was still at large.

The Riley family was put under protection, Simon was clear on his position. We get Makarov we retire. Maybe.

Both agreed, get Makarov and retire from field work. Maybe. Doesn't mean they didn't wanna be on base training the next generation. But that was for future conversations

That's is so far! Hoped you enjoyed the what I have for her- I will make separate HCs for different things. Like this is just her career and her accomplishment in the military.

And if you have a moment and got this far I wanna ask.

Thank you again love ya all! 💗

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itsgxsly · 2 years

Text

FIRST OF MANY MORE

Summary: Being Lando's sister, you met Carlos Sainz when he and your brother became teammates. Now, you can't help but wish you hadn't met Carlos when he announces that he's leaving McLaren.

Pairing: carlos sainz x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 975

You met Carlos in 2019 when he and your twin brother Lando signed for Mclaren becoming teammates.

You were going to accompaing your brother during the 2019 season since you were taking a gap year from your studies. So you came to your brother's side on the day of the Australian GP. Lando took you to the Mclaren garage, totally excited to introduce you to his mate.

As you approached to the garage, you caught a glimpse of the famous spaniard your brother kept talking about. When you were a short distance away, Lando called out his name, causing the man to turn towards you.

The sight that greeted you left you stunned for a few moments. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, his black hair looked soft, and he had full, kissable lips, as well as brown eyes that you might have stared at longer if your twin hadn't distracted you by speaking.

“Carlos, good to see you mate. I wanted to introduce you to my sister. She's coming with me all season so we'll be spending a lot of time together,” Lando told Carlos, so animated that he completely ignored the way you and Carlos were looking at each other.

"I'm y/n, it's a pleasure to meet you Carlos" you came out of your reverie with the handsome spaniard and offered him your hand in greeting.

Meanwhile, Carlos could feel in love with you the moment you approached him next to your brother. He told himself that you were surely the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever seen. Your soft, almost innocent features left him stunned for a while, only snapping out of his reverie when you offered him your hand. Smiling sweetly at you, he took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles. He almost groaned when you pulled his hand away from yours blushing, lost in the softness and contrast of your hands. Lando watched the entire interaction between his sister and his teammate, a mixture of regret for introducing you, but happiness for both of you for having liked it.

That day in Australia your relationship had started.

It had been a year and a little since that Australian GP. You and Carlos had become quite close, to the point of behaving like a couple, sharing hugs and loving looks around the paddock. But the 2020 season was coming to an end and with it, your relationship with Carlos reached its limit, something that made you want to cry, every time you remembered that you could lose the Spanish man who had made his way to your heart. Carlos had announced that he would be leaving Mclaren to drive for Ferrari in 2021 and you had been trying to avoid him ever since, wanting to forget all your feelings for him as soon as possible. But you knew Carlos and you knew that he would not give up so easily and you proved it when he tried to talk to you on several occasions. Until he finally found the perfect moment the day you and the entire Mclaren team met to say goodbye to the Spaniard. You were there by Lando's side, you and your twin staring at the ground with sad eyes as you listened to Carlos thank the team for everything. When Carlos finished speaking, you left the room quickly without being able to hold back your tears, you heard footsteps following you to the outer patio of the Mclaren instalations. You sobbed a couple of times and you felt a pair of arms surround your shoulders and get you into a strong chest, you inhaled Carlos' scent, which calmed you down a bit.

"Don't cry cariño, tell me what's wrong with you. You've been avoiding me for a while and I can't take this anymore. Talk to me” Carlos begged you.

You relaxed a little at the sound of his voice and after a few deep breaths, you were able to pull away and look at his face. He looked at you with such sweetness and love in his eyes that you couldn't help but spill all the feelings you had since the announcement.

"I don't want you to go. I'm happy for you because I know it's an important moment for your career but I'm afraid that if you go to Ferrari we'll end up moving away. And I can't lose you Carlos, not when I'm so in love with you” you breathed quickly after confessing everything you felt for the spaniard.

Carlos stayed a few seconds in silence looking at you, this time a look of surprise on his face, when finally after seconds of tension, a loving smile was born in him, letting his forehead rest on yours, bringing his hands to your cheeks to caress them.

“Preciosa, you have no idea how much I wanted to hear those words. I love you so much and I never intend to leave you. And next season when I'm at Ferrari, I plan to take you to the garage with me every race so you can support me.” His Spanish accent was a little noticeable as he whispered those words inches from your mouth.

You completely melted when without giving you time to respond, Carlos closed the distance and kissed you so tenderly that your body trembled. You parted ways with a few peaks before staying in each other's arms, not wanting to let go of each other just yet. Until your bubble was broken by a scream.

“Until you decide to take the plunge. If you hurt my sister, Sainz, I'm going to crash your car into a barrier!" Lando exclaimed. You and Carlos laughed before bringing your lips together for another long-awaited kiss, the first of many more.

cariño: baby

preciosa: beautiful

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz blurb #mclaren f1 #scuderia ferrari #cs55 #f1 weekend #f1 fandom #formula 1 #f1 2022 #formula one #carlando #fluff #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you

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alexa-mwll · 4 months

Note

🌸 Tell me about your OC(s) - with pictures if you want !Pick some facts you want to share about them & let us gush about them together! Then send to other creators to do the same ✨

Hello, a pleasure ❤

Here are some extra information.

Nathaly

-Since 2020, 2019 and 2018, half of the money that Nathaly earns in the Mexican Special Forces is directed towards: The Monarch Butterfly Sanctuary Biosphere Reserve in Michoacán, Mexico.

-Indeed, as I say @alypink , 🤣, it suits the Mexican Fútbol Chivas.

-He likes bad boys. (Makarov, Phillip) 💀🚩🚩

--This woman did not have a very good time in her childhood, being an older sister during her adolescence, she felt very pressured by her parents. 😕

--She somehow feels repulsion and eternal hatred towards the drug traffickers, hitmen, etc., of Mexico. Feels like it's a part of the body that shouldn't be there.

-You will always see her with her short hair, Tomboy type, or pixie.

-Did I already mention that he loves butterflies?

--He loves the Barbie Girl song.

He secretly dances it💀❤ In fact, it even has a Barbie Girl ringtone.

But silence, you don't know anything. 🤫

Thank you @starcrossedspirit for letting me do this, there were some errors but they have been fixed 🤣😕

Tagged: @cyberghostdraws @kaitaiga @alypink @welldonekhushi

And any other friends who want to join this❤

#call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #activision #phillip graves x oc #call of duty oc #my ocs #fact oc #oc x canon #makarov x reader #my oc art

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foundtherightwords · 8 months

Text

The Firebird - Chapter 2

Pairing: Prince Paul (Catherine the Great) x OFC, fairytale AU

Summary: When Paul, a spoiled young prince, spots a strange bird in the forest near his palace, he impulsively chases after it, hoping to both escape from and prove himself to his disapproving mother. Thus he is plunged into an exhilarating adventure across a magical realm populated by enchanted princesses, dangerous monsters, and powerful wizards, an adventure that may change him more than he can ever imagine.

Chapter warning: none

Chapter word count: 4.2k

A/N: A note on the Russian names/pronunciation:

Paul's full name in Russian, Pavel Petrovich, is used for formal occasions. Pasha and Pavlik are short forms, while Pashenka and Pavlushka are pet names.

The princess's name, Zhara, is based on the Russian word for fire, Zhar (Жар). "Zh" is pronounced like the "s" in "leisure", or the French "j".

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - A Princess Named Zhara

Paul had, in fact, seen a number of undressed women before, though perhaps not quite so thoroughly undressed.

But the flush of embarrassment that crept up his face was nothing compared to his utter perplexity upon seeing this strange girl.

"Who are you?" he said, once he found his voice again. "And what have you done to my bird?"

"Your bird?" she scoffed. She was still slumped over in the bush, her head resting on her arm. "What makes her yours? You didn't even manage to catch her."

This is some trick, surely, thought Paul. The bird hadn't really flown into this bush, and this young woman just happened to be lying here. But he hadn't seen the bird come out again... So it must still be around here somewhere...

"I was just trying to find a quiet place to rest," the young woman was saying, "and maybe find some clothes too. Is that too much to ask? I've been flying the whole day with a bust-up wing. But no, oh no. I had to have the misfortune of flying into the biggest cretin in the whole of Lukomorye..."

Ignoring her mumbles, Paul searched the grove and the adjacent meadow for any sign of the red-and-gold plumes, but there was none. The meadow, separated from the forest by a burbling brook, was large and flat. There was no bush, only smooth grass that spread all the way to the horizon where the sky still had a faint, pinkish edge where it met the earth, so he doubted the bird could have hidden there. He turned back to the grove, but here the curtain of darkness had lowered completely, and he could see nothing but the birch trunks shining pale like a brigade of ghost soldiers. It was too late to keep searching. Paul could feel fatigue settling into his bones, and decided to turn back. Perhaps in the morning, he could return with some servants. A wounded bird couldn't have gone far.

He went back to the thicket. The young woman had sat up. In the gloom, her hair had darkened to a mahogany shade, contrasting with the paleness of her skin. Paul was reminded of Eve in the Garden of Eden, and blushed again.

"Where did you come from?" he asked. "What happened to you?"

"Go away," she said, sniffling.

"There's a village nearby. I can raise an alert and get you help, should you need it."

"No one can help me. Just go away and leave me alone." She buried her face in her arms until her hair enveloped her whole body like a mantle.

Paul shrugged and turned away. It was likely that she was a peasant girl from one of the villages around Tsarskoye Selo, abandoned by a lover and too afraid to come home. Well, if she didn't want help, then it certainly wasn't his problem.

As he walked off, he couldn't help noticing how small and lost the girl looked, with her arms wrapped around legs that were drawn up to her chest and her head bent over her knees. Sighing, he unclasped his cloak and tossed it at her feet. She turned quizzical eyes to the cloak, then to him, but made no move to pick up the garment. Paul paid no more attention to her and went in search of his horse.

But something was different about the grove. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, only that it gave him the same otherworldly feeling he'd had when he'd first seen the bird. And then, as he walked deeper and deeper into the grove, he realized what it was—the grove was much larger than he remembered. After leaving the horse, he'd only had to run a few dozen steps to reach the thicket, yet now, despite having walked far enough that the girl was only a speck of white in the distance, he couldn't see the arch of the two crooked birches or his horse anywhere.

He kept walking and walking, but it was like walking in place, for the birches remained unchanged, and he couldn't tell if he had passed this tree or that already. The white trees almost glimmered in the dark, and he felt he was going blind after looking at them for too long. Eventually, he had to stop, too tired to go on, afraid that he would push himself to exhaustion walking in circles.

Was he lost? Was the grove really that vast and he had gone further than he thought? Perhaps the girl would know. He turned around, intending to go back to ask, and almost walked straight into the girl. Somehow, she had followed him without him knowing. She had donned his cloak, and her hair was pulled back into a loose braid, which fell to her knees. It was tied at the end with a string of dry grass.

"You're not from here," she said, before Paul could speak.

"What?"

"You're from Rus'."

"Do you know the way back to Tsarskoye Selo?" Paul asked. He began to wonder if the girl was at all sane. Though the royal household and the courtiers rarely ventured outside the confines of the Summer Palace, every peasant in the area knew of the court. Yet this girl didn't seem to recognize him at all. Her eyes shone with a strange light, and she was looking at him with a mixture of wonder and curiosity.

"There is no Tsarskoye Selo here," she said slowly, pronouncing the words as though unfamiliar with them. "See, this is not Rus'. This is Lukomorye."

"What?" Paul repeated. He was quite certain now that the girl was mad.

The girl sighed. She put one hand out of the cloak and snapped her fingers.

Paul jumped back, crying out in alarm.

The tips of her fingers had caught fire.

"I bet you don't have anything like this in your land, do you?" the girl said.

"What sort of trickery is this?" Paul whispered. He had seen fire eaters at feast days in court, but none of them had ever made fire come out of their fingers.

"It's not a trick."

The girl closed her palm, and the fire went out without even a puff of smoke. She snapped her fingers again, and again fire burst from their tips. Her fingers burned steadily like candles in the dark, illuminating her face so Paul could see the myriad of freckles scattering across her skin like stars on the night sky. The fire gleamed on her coppery hair and reflected in her eyes, which he saw were of the same golden amber color as the bird's. It was those eyes, rather than the unnatural flames on her fingertips, that finally convinced Paul.

"You're the bird," he said, comprehension dawning.

"Oh, he's sharp," she said, mockery dripping from every word. "Here I was thinking you're just another nincompoop."

Paul was so shocked he even forgot to take offense at her impudent tone. "But—how—"

"I told you, this is Lukomorye. The land of magic. The Otherworld. Surely you know of us, as we know of you?"

Paul recalled the dreamlike feeling he'd been having, the childhood memories. "The land of magic. Like... in the fairy tales?"

"If that's what you call them."

He took a breath and tried to think rationally. "Prove it then," he said. "If you're really the bird, turn back. Transform."

"I'm not a shape-shifter," the girl said, closing her palm to put out the fire again. She clutched the cloak closer to her body as a shadow passed over her features. "I'm cursed, if you must know. I only turn into a bird during the day."

"That's convenient," Paul retorted. He was beginning to see how absurd the situation was and refused to let himself be swayed. "All right, if this isn't my world, can you take me back?"

The girl shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid I can't. Opening doors between the worlds is a very imprecise sort of magic. Most of the time it just happens. I was injured, and frightened, and must have opened one by mistake..."

Her words made no sense to Paul. He took a step back, as though by putting some distance between them, he could avoid being infected by her otherworldly air and keep his mind clear. He remembered how he had ended up here in the first place, his quarrel with his mother, and his usual anger and suspicion came surging back. "This must be some trick, some mischief meant to harm or confuse me, to make me seem unfit for the throne—"

Her eyebrows went up. "The throne? Are you some sort of prince?"

Paul drew himself to his full height. "I am. I'm Tsarevich Paul, Pavel Petrovich Romanov, son of Peter the Third, heir to the Russian throne."

The girl shrugged, unimpressed. "Well, none of that would help you here. Here, you're just another mortal." She ignored Paul's indignant spluttering. "I'm sorry, but there is nothing to be done now. It's late. Tomorrow, we can look for someone who can help you return to your world."

Without waiting for his answer, she went over to a birch tree, tapped its trunk experimentally, and, leaning her forehead against the tree, whispered, "O les chestnoi (1), I thank you for this gift I'm about to receive." Then, with a bit of bark held in one hand like a bowl, she snapped a branch and put her bark bowl underneath to collect the clear sap that dripped from the broken bit.

"What are you doing?" Paul asked, astonished.

"It's too dark to go searching for food. This birch sap will have to do."

Her words reminded Paul of how hungry he was himself. He turned and walked away.

"Where are you going?" the girl said.

"Back to the palace."

"Haven't you got it through your thick head yet? Your palace isn't here! Nothing from your world is here!" He took no heed of her and kept walking, but not before he heard her mumble, "All right, get yourself killed then, see if I care." Then she added, with feeling, "Cretin."

Paul stormed through the grove, trying to ignore the sense of foreboding that grew and grew the longer he went. This was clearly all a mistake. He hadn't been paying close attention while chasing after the bird and had gotten himself lost; that was all. The horse must have bolted. And as for the fire on the girl's hand... it was a trick. It had to be. As long as he found his way out of this confounded forest, everything would be right again.

He was now far enough that he could no longer see the girl. The ranks of birches were giving way to oaks and lindens and other trees, meaning he was going in the right direction. His disappearance may have been noticed at the palace already, and at this very moment, perhaps a battalion was being deployed in search of him. Taking heart in this thought, he pressed on, crashing through the dense trees, trying to ignore the soreness of his limbs, unused to strenuous exercises, and the gnawing hunger in his belly. He tried, too, not to notice that the oaks seemed much bigger and older than he'd remembered and that sometimes he couldn't recognize the leaves on a branch that hung over the path or the flowers of a bush that he had to sidestep.

There was something else he tried to ignore as well, without much success. The forest wasn't as quiet as it had been when he was chasing after the bird. Now there were all sorts of creaking and rustling around him as though a tempest was brewing overhead, yet there was nary a breath of wind, and the crescent moon shone clearly, valiantly through the thick foliage. Strangest of all, the creaking and rustling seemed to stop when he stopped and pick up when he resumed walking.

"Who's there?"

Only the hoot of an owl answered him.

He started walking. The rustling started. He stopped. It stopped as well. Could it be the girl, toying with him? "If you're trying to frighten me, think again!" Paul shouted. He thought he heard a high-pitched noise that may have been the chirping of a cricket or the eerie, distant echo of some giggles. He picked up a rock by his feet and flung it, with all his might, toward the noise. It ceased instantly.

Satisfied, he continued on his way. The creaking and rustling erupted again, to a deafening degree, right by his ears. Paul stared back in horror. The trees seemed to be enlarging, blocking out the moon. No, it wasn't the trees... or was it? He couldn't say what he was looking at. A human form was rising out of the forest, but it still looked like a tree, with bark for skin, branches for limbs, leaves for hair, and moss for whiskers.

"Who dares to disturb the peace of my forest?" the creature bellowed in a voice that sounded like a storm blowing through the trees, showing a mouth full of thorns.

Paul staggered backwards, stumbled over his ceremonial sword, which he'd forgotten to take off after the drilling exercise, and went sprawling on the ground. This movement alerted the creature to his presence, and it whirled around to face him. Two spots of yellow light, like a pair of fireflies, blinked under the leaves, showing where its eyes were. It raised an arm as thick as an oak branch over its head, apparently with the intention of bringing it crashing down on Paul. Its movements were so lumbering that Paul would've had plenty of time to move out of the way, had he not been rooted to the spot by shock and fear.

"No, les chestnoi, wait!" The girl appeared by his side, her knees bent, arms outstretched in a pleading gesture. "He's with me! He's with me!"

The creature's arm paused in midair. Its phosphoric eyes dimmed slightly as it inclined its head, its tree-trunk neck creaking in a way that caused Paul to cower, thinking that branch was coming for his head.

"Tsarevna Zhara," the creature said in a softer tone. "Forgive me. I didn't know this—mortal was under your protection."

"He's not," the girl said, glancing at Paul with irritation. "But he is from Rus' and doesn't know his way around Lukomorye. Please, spare him."

The creature's firefly eyes blinked slowly, its moss-covered mouth working, grinding its thorn teeth, while it appeared to be mulling over the matter. Finally, it dropped its arm. "Very well, my lady," it said. "Out of respect for your late father, I shall spare the moral."

"Thank you, les pravedniy (2)," the girl said with a deep bow.

The creature returned her bow with more ponderous creaking, then turned and walked into the forest. It soon became one with the trees, with only the creaking and rustling fading into the distance as evidence of its presence.

The girl walked away as well. Paul found that he could breathe and move again, and he hurried after her.

"What in saints' names was that thing?!" he exclaimed.

"That thing is a leshy," the girl said, long legs moving in and out of his cloak as she strode down the path, "and you had better show him some respect, if you don't want him coming back for your head."

The word sounded familiar, though it took Paul a moment to remember where he'd heard it and what it meant. "A forest spirit?" he bleated.

"Yes. You're lucky he was in a good mood."

It was too much for Paul. Only a few hours ago, he had been arguing with his mother about the throne. Now he was walking through a forest that was both familiar and not, with girls that turned into birds and walking trees. It did not seem possible. He sat down on the path and gripped his head in his hands, as though by doing so, he could prevent his brain from melting and leaking out through his ears, which he felt it was very much in danger of doing.

The bird-girl, noticing his absence, turned back and stood watching him for a moment. Glancing up at her, he noticed there was still something birdlike in her posture, in the way she tilted her head at him, in the way she shifted her weight, never staying quite still. Eventually, she seemed to take pity on him and put a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

"I suppose this is quite difficult for you to accept," she said gently. "Let us find a place to rest for the night. Morning shall bring more wisdom."

Those words, so often encountered in fairy tales, calmed Paul, and that hand, so warm that he could feel it through his coat, revived him. He followed the girl back to the thicket, now bathed in the silvery light of the crescent moon. The girl handed him her birch-bark cup with some sap in it. Being too hungry and thirsty to ask further questions, Paul drank it straight down. It was only slightly sweet, with a mossy aftertaste, but refreshing. He could feel strength and clarity slowly returning to his body and mind.

"So if you can't return me to my world, then who can?" he asked.

"Probably the same person who could free me from this curse—Baba Yaga."

Paul dropped the cup. "Baba Yaga," he said. "Baba Yaga the witch, flies around in a mortar, lives in a hut with chicken legs, that Baba Yaga?"

The girl nodded.

"She's real," he said. It wasn't exactly a question.

"Of course she's real!" the girl said. "Only," she added, "no one has seen her in ages, and even if we do find her, she may not agree to help. But she's my only hope."

"And I suppose it was Koschei the Deathless who cursed you?" Paul said, intending it as a quip to show the girl that he wasn't completely ignorant when it came to Fairyland, but at the mention of Koschei, the shadow that had passed across her face when she mentioned her curse came back, and lingered.

"I guess you can say so, in a way," she said in a small voice. Her answer puzzled Paul, but she looked so miserable that he decided to hold his tongue.

"How are we going to find Baba Yaga?" he asked instead.

"Some say she likes the taste of Russians and can smell them from hundreds of versts away," the girl replied. "So perhaps she'll find us." She glanced at Paul's blanched face, a corner of her mouth lifted into a crooked, impish smile, and some of the shadow lifted from her face. "I'm joking. Some say she has gone to Vyriy."

"Where is that?"

"Nobody knows," the girl said. "It could be a mere thought away, or a year's trek on foot and horseback, or so far that one may travel for his entire life and still can't reach it."

"Of course," Paul said bleakly.

"Lucky for us, we shall not have to go so far. I know how to find Baba Yaga. Or rather, how to find a creature that can find her."

If she continues to talk in fairy-speak, I shall have to throttle her, Paul thought grimly. The girl seemed to notice his dark look as well, for she quickly continued, "Apparently Tsar Afron of Smorodina is in possession of a horse with a golden mane, foaled by Baba Yaga's own mare. His fortress is a few days' trek from here. If we can borrow the horse from him, it shall lead us back to its mother."

Paul nodded, relieved that there was now a solid plan. A few days he could deal with.

The mention of a tsar reminded him of something else...

"That thing—the leshy," he said slowly. "He addressed you as tsarevna."

The girl lifted her chin, her amber eyes glinting in the moonlight. "I am. Zhara Artyomovna, daughter of Tsar Artyom, heir to the throne of Arthania."

So they let women rule in this land too, a bitter thought came into Paul's mind, but he immediately felt guilty about it. After all, this girl—Zhara—had saved him from the leshy and even offered to help him, when she could have left him to rot. Almost as though she could read his mind, she smiled her crooked smile again. "I suppose that makes us equals, does it not? And it would not be beneath you to travel with me, would it, Tsarevich Paul?"

Her knowing, teasing smile only deepened his shame. "Are we to sleep here then, out in the open?" he said, scowling to mask his discomfort.

The girl was already gathering dried leaves and grass into a little bed for herself. "What do you require? Silk sheets? Feather mattresses?" she snapped. "I'm sorry Lukomorye cannot provide you with the comforts you're used to. This is all we have."

Paul wondered what sort of tsars they had in this land, when a tsarevna was no better than a peasant girl and thought nothing of sleeping on the ground. He was aware that this was unkind and scowled again, though this time more at himself.

"What about wild animals?"

"The leshy shall protect us."

"What about the cold?" Though it was summer, it was cool under the trees, and already he could feel the chilliness coming through his shirt. "Can we at least have a fire?"

The girl looked down at the cloak she was clutching about herself, then looked at Paul, who was rubbing his hands together to chase away the chill. "Oh, of course. But you'll have to gather the firewood. I can't do much with this." She lifted her injured arm out of the cloak with a wince. The wound was still weeping a little.

With a sigh, Paul got up and went around the clearing, picking up all the twigs and branches he could find. Zhara raised an eyebrow at the meager pile he brought back, but said nothing. She waved her hand over it, and soon, a cheery fire was crackling amidst the grove. "There. Good enough for you now, Tsarevich Paul?" she said, before returning to her bed of dry leaves.

"It's fine," Paul grumbled. Seeing that she still held her injured arm awkwardly by her side, he unwound the silk cravat from around his neck and wrapped it around her wound. Her skin was pleasantly warm under his fingertips. No wonder she didn't need a fire. She watched him with twinkling eyes but made no remark on his handiwork, and only said a quiet "Thank you" once he finished.

He went back to the fire and tried his best to make himself comfortable. He wondered if his absence had been noticed at the palace, or they'd simply shrugged it off and made a point to lock the doors from now on, as they had after he'd snuck out of the nursery when he was a child. He wondered if his mother would care.

Then he became aware of whispery voices and giggles all around him, soft, tinkling sounds that nevertheless hid a menacing note, like the wind blowing through broken glass. He opened his eyes and saw little flickers of light among the tall grass, surrounding them, moving closer and closer.

"What—what are those?" he asked, hugging his sword closer to himself.

The girl lifted her head and glanced at the lights. "Oh, those are the leshy's little children. Harmless creatures. They're just curious." She lay back down and promptly went to sleep.

But Paul couldn't sleep. The lights were now just on the very edge of the fire's halo, and he could see that they were indeed the same phosphoric eyes as the leshy's, only these were set on bodies that resembled toadstools or broken twigs and rotten leaves. He shivered, thinking how close he'd come to picking up one of them for the fire by mistake. Compared to the leshy, they were much lighter on their feet—if they even had feet—flitting from bush to bush, branch to branch, crowding, jostling, pushing each other forward, daring each other to get closer to Paul.

Then they began to sing:

Pavel, Paul, little Pashenka Scolded by his mama He runs away from home, he falls down a lane And no one hears from Pashenka ever again.

At this, Paul's fear was replaced by anger, and he picked up his plumed hat by the fire and threw it as hard as he could at those glow-worm eyes. "Shut up!" he shouted.

"Stop tossing things about, you ninny," came the girl's irritated voice from under the folds of the cloak, "and go to sleep."

The lights scattered, leaving behind a peal of burbling laughs that soon faded into the murmur of the stream. Paul lay still, listening to the sounds of the forest for a long, long time, until eventually, exhaustion overcame him, and he slept.

Chapter 3

1. Les chestnoi: honorable one of the forest. 2. Les pravedniy: righteous one of the forest.

#prince paul #tsarevich paul #catherine the great #prince paul fic #prince paul x ofc #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fic

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