#so i sent this to Kat a while back and finally got the courage to post it

[jessicalucas]

Why did Jeremiah want Ecco dead, and how did he pull it off?

It is my solid belief that Jeremiah wanted Ecco to die, and I have several reasons why. It starts when he was sprayed, however back then it was more of an indifference to if she died or not. If you think about what he made her do, he made her shoot herself, he put her in the bunker to keep Jim there with the chance that it could blow up with her still in it, he almost definitely made her be the one to converse with all the dangerous gangs and criminals to exert his dominance over them. All were high risk situations where she could have died, but there was always a chance that she wouldn’t. We know that a lot of Jeremiah’s relationships were fuelled by obsessions, but I don’t think he was obsessed with Ecco as a person, I think he was obsessed with the fact that he had been able to manipulate a person so well into being entirely devoted to him and changing their personality and manner, and Ecco was just the walking embodiment of that. Alongside her being useful due to this, by keeping her around he was constantly reminding himself of his achievement in making her who she was. He saw her as a possession of his own creation, but as he was just obsessed with that and not actually Ecco herself, she was expendable, but precious enough to allow a chance at living.

Which means that something changed between 5x07 and 5x12 in that ten years, something that changed Jeremiah from not caring if she died, to wanting her to die. That difference is evident in the finale, because if he didn’t actively wish for her to die, I imagine that he would have just left her dying with the stab wound, rather than ensuring that she would definitely die. There was a chance that she could have survived, I don’t know tons about stab wounds but people in Gotham have survived much worse injuries, Jeremiah has survived much worse injuries. But for once he didn’t allow her to have that chance.

This brings us to the ultimate question: why would Jeremiah want Ecco dead? She was loyal, he knew that she would do what he wanted, and he had his own personal protection wherever he meant. Clearly, the big event linking this change was the 10 years he spent in Arkham. Obviously we don’t see much of them there, but we see enough to establish that Ecco was his nurse and the person he solely relied upon, he used her to get information in and out and as far as we know, for a very large chunk of that 10 years she was the only person who knew he wasn’t braindead. Now, that has some very striking similarities to the role she played when she was his proxy, as back then he was reliant upon her to do so much, without her being able to leave the bunker he would have struggled a lot more. He was very dependent upon her, and at that point, I don’t think he minded. However, when he got sprayed and certain elements of his personality were intensified, the arrogance and self-obsession did as well, and he no longer wanted to be dependent upon someone, he believed himself to be the most important person that doesn’t need to answer to anyone. He brainwashed Ecco to flip it around, she was now the one dependent on him, and he had the full power.

When he went to Arkham, he no longer had that control over her. Ecco had no guidance, and automatically switched back into the role that she was most comfortable doing: looking after him. We don’t know how long Jeremiah was pretending to be brain dead, but when he woke up, he had to start pretending straight away. There was no way he could have done it without Ecco. Once again, their roles had been reversed and he was once again solely relying upon Ecco to look after him, to carry out everything he needed done, and to make sure he wasn’t discovered. He must have resented the fact that she could do everything he wanted to do, all his anger about having to wait for the right moment was now being channelled into his relationship with her, because that was the only real relationship he had at that moment in time. Unlike before, he no longer had an outlet for his anger. He couldn’t move, the only thing he could do was think. That would be enough to drive you further into madness, and to warp feelings towards someone else into negative emotions because that’s all you know. If Ecco brought him any messages from the outside, for example the news that Bruce had left Gotham, he couldn’t see them to develop hatred towards them, and so he does towards the nearest person at the time, which is Ecco. The resentment that he was dependent on her once more, the mixed messages in his brain from madness and the anger he felt for others all manifested itself into him beginning to develop very negative emotions when she was around.

But when does the line between disliking someone and wanting someone dead get crossed? For me, there’s two main reasons, and the first goes back to the point that she was acting very similar to her proxy phase. Not only was it echoed in actions, it was also similar in terms of her movement, body language, facial expressions, and appearance. She is quiet, stoic, she delivers her actions swiftly and with no theatrics. Sure, she had to blend in, but she didn’t need to when she killed the two men in Jeremiah’s cell. 

That reminded me of the scene where Jeremiah gets her to shoot the two guards, she does it with no hesitation, silently, deadly. Without the constant influence of Jeremiah being able to control her with words and actions, the façade he built up for her is ebbing away, and surfacing is the Ecco that was always still there, just hidden under the many layers of devotion that Jeremiah had built up. It’s not a quick process, she still has the same voice and wording as she does before, but she’s definitely changed from the person she was in 5x07. Note how she’s still in Arkham when I say this, because the rapid change in her between Arkham and Barbara’s club is important and I’ll get to that later. Essentially, what Jeremiah is seeing before him is all his work that he put in to manipulating her is fading away, that his power over her is no longer as strong as it was. Which makes him question: if it’s happened once, what’s to say it won’t happen again if he manages to brainwash her again? It’s bad enough letting people know that her manipulation wasn’t strong enough to hold when he wasn’t there to constantly enforce it, but for it to fail a second time? He could not allow it. The only solution for him to protect his status and for her to not break free from him, was for her to die.

Furthermore, her acting like his proxy again would have really brought him back to who he was the last time she acted like this, the man that had to fight so hard against his true nature that it made him ‘weak’. He did not want to be that person again, being terrified of his brother, hiding away for years because he couldn’t face the world. Ecco was a constant reminder of that, and I do think that he decided that Ecco was a very strong link between his past and present self, and the only way that the link would be severed would be for her to go away completely. Maybe that is what he tried to do initially instead of killing her, to make her into a different person with a new appearance that wouldn’t remind him of the labyrinth every time he looked at her, but he realised that it really was only a temporary fix and the only way to truly cut off his past was to destroy it. That’s what he did with the labyrinth itself, and it seems fitting to him to destroy all parts of it, including Ecco.

The second reason does have links to the first, and it is his vulnerability inside of Arkham. He pretty much had to be guided with Ecco, she was his ears, his eyes and his legs outside and inside Arkham. He had to let her, there was no other way that it could have worked to the extent that it did. He isn’t able to defend himself with words or physically, but also cannot do anything for himself, he can’t wash himself, dress himself, feed himself etc without dropping his act. The person who is seeing this helplessness first-hand constantly is Ecco. Jeremiah canonically sees himself as this godly figure, one who is all-powerful, who people look up to. To him, being vulnerable is not an option. Being helpless is unthinkable. How could he ever allow someone who saw him in that state live? He may not be able to forget, but he could get rid of any reminders, and also eliminates the idea that people would see Ecco and recognise her as the person who kept him alive, he can’t have anyone on the same level as him, he is alone in his own hierarchy and it must remain that way.

So, that’s pretty much the reasoning behind why I think Jeremiah wanted Ecco dead. Which led me to think how did he manage to pull it off, how did he manage to kill someone who was very smart, a great fighter, and had escaped many dangerous situations before? This leads us back to that sudden switch between Ecco killing the guards and Ecco who is the bait for Barbara. Right, we know that Ecco is more ditzy and less collected when she’s in that state of mind, but examining her behaviour in the scene when she holds the knife to Barbara’s throat, she’s even more off, she’s not focusing on anything, she just seems a lot more relaxed which is such a major difference to how she was in Arkham that it seems too different to be true. I think it is, I think Jeremiah drugged her. He has the access, being in Arkham, and if he asked for it, Ecco would get it for him. I don’t know specifics about medicinal drugs but I imagine that getting something with relaxing properties isn’t exactly uncommon for Arkham, where they need to keep their residents as calm as possible. All he needed to do was get it into her system, Francesca has said that the deleted scene in Arkham involved Jeremiah pulling her into his lap from grabbing her face, kissing her and then carrying her out in his arms. My theory is that he did that as a distraction as he didn’t know how this changing Ecco would react to him trying to inject her, so it would have been easy to inject her when she was distracted and in that close proximity.

Not only would drugging her affect her reflexes, lengthening them and making her more vulnerable to attack, but he also armed her with a knife. We have seen Ecco use a knife before, but we know that she’s much more comfortable with a gun as that is the weapon we see her with the most, and holding someone at gunpoint is going to be a harder situation for the person to get out of, as one movement and bang, you’re dead. With a knife it requires more force and will take longer, even if it is held at the throat. Jeremiah knows Barbara is a skilled fighter, he’s met her twice before and seen her fight, he would have known that she would have been able to disarm a weakened Ecco and stab her. Which is also why he doesn’t make any attempt to restrain her, the only thing stopping her from disarming Ecco is Ecco’s hold on her, which wouldn’t have been that strong if she were drugged and easily distracted. If he really wanted to ensure Ecco’s safety, he could have binded her, or given Ecco a gun, or even shot her in the leg straight away. But he didn’t, and everything worked out like he thought it would. Barbara broke free, Ecco was too slow to fight back, and she was stabbed. Something that would look like an accident to her, but it was completely planned.

(note how Jeremiah waited until after Ecco was disarmed to turn around)

It’s clever, yes it is clever, but it’s the cruellest thing to do to a person that has devoted their entire life to you. Making it so that she was completely defenceless so she didn’t even have a chance to protect herself. This is why I don’t follow the theory that he shot her out of mercy, he shot her to finish the job that he had set out to do a long, long time ago.

#so i sent this to Kat a while back and finally got the courage to post it #idk why i was worried about this but i have thought about this a LOT #and this is just my opinion on the matter #and plus i made gifs #don't steal them #i'm also going to sleep now but i would like to hear your thoughts #do you think it was an act of mercy or do you think he wanted her to die? #i think my opinion's pretty clear lmao #gotham #ecco #jeremiah valeska

[boxofbonesfic]

your request are open say

Can i please request a dark meet cute with Steve or Bucky? They meet the reader when she has a flat tire and is having a really bad day

Title: Plus One

Pairing: Dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: You didn’t even want to go to your sister’s wedding anyway.

Warnings: Yandere!Steve, Obsessive behavior, stalking, dubcon/noncon, threats, drugging, semi public fooling around, mean and manipulative Steve, unprotected sex

A/N: you asked for dark so… i went dark, lmfao. i really enjoyed writing this one, lol. please let me know what you think in the comments and reblogs, and as always, thanks for reading!!

This is a work of FICTION, and there will be ADULT themes and content included therein, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. This is a DARK fic. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! MINORS, DNI! 😘

👰🏾‍♀️

You didn’t even want to go. 

 If you’d had it your way, this Saturday would have been spent in blissful, drunken isolation as you whined to your best friend over skype—again—about the absolute nerve of your sister getting engaged to your ex, all while lamenting how much time you’d spent on him in the first place. But now, the dreaded weekend was upon you, and your parents pleading had finally swayed you into reluctantly accepting Kat’s invitation. 

 YOU’RE INVITED!

 Please join us in celebrating the union of Keegan and Katherine-Joy, July 15th, 20xx. 

 Yours had of course contained an extra letter, where your sister painstakingly detailed she and your ex-boyfriend’s whirlwind romance, how she didn’t want to hurt you, how she had the courage to try and be happy—all while leaving out, of course how she’d fucked him in your bed the night you’d broken up. 

 “You can’t spend the rest of your life getting drunk and being mad at your sister.”  Your mother’s stern voice over the receiver suddenly seemed more ironic than ever—if you’d stayed drunk and mad at KJ, then you wouldn’t be squatting in the grass beside the blown out remains of your front right tire. 

 Suddenly I miss margarita mornings. 

 You stood, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead. I dunno, mom. Getting drunk and being mad at K are starting to sound pretty fucking good right now. It was hot—way too hot for upstate New York, even in summer. The air was thicker than chowder, and it made the back of your shirt stick uncomfortably to your skin as you looked up and down the desolate road. You were just forty-five tantalizing minutes from your destination at the fancy ski-lodge Kat had picked for her wedding, so you supposed it was only fitting for the universe to take another potshot at you while you were down. 

 You got back into the car, slamming the door harder than necessary as you growled loudly in frustration. I guess it was too much to fucking ask for a painless trip. There wasn’t anyone you could call that wasn’t already at the lodge getting ready—and your mother wouldn’t abandon her mother-of-the-bride duties for her least favorite child. 

 You were stuck.

 You glared at the invitation on your dash hatefully, blaming it for all of your current misfortune. After all, if Katherine had never fucked Keegan, you wouldn’t be sitting here, three and a half days before your sister’s wedding, missing the open bar at the bachelorette party. You thumped your head against the steering wheel. 

 Some vacation this was turning out to be. A perfunctory car trouble text was sent to both your parents and your sister, and your mother replied with an angry frowny face, and the lofty promise of “we’ll see if someone can come get you after the pictures are done.” 

 It was still hot, but the cicadas were beginning to sing, meaning night would soon be falling. The sky had only barely started darkening, the clear and brilliant blue only just beginning to darken to deep purple when you heard it. 

 A car. 

 You scrambled out of the driver’s seat and stood on the side of the little road, peering up and down both ways. “Thank fuck. Or god. Whoever, really.” You muttered under your breath as you finally caught sight of the vehicle. It was big—almost too big for the road, and it looked…armored? 

 Did mom call the military?

 It approached quickly, and for a moment you feared the road simply wasn’t large enough for the pumped up SUV to pass your little beat up corolla, even if it was pulled off to the side. You saw it slow, and pull up just behind you. The roar of the engine went silent, and the driver’s side door opened. A man stepped out, brushing a hand through his blond hair as he peered at you over the open door. 

 “Car trouble?” He asked, and you swallowed thickly. No. No fucking way. 

 You weren’t always the fastest on the uptake, nor were you always adept at keeping up with current events, but you knew Captain-fucking-America when you saw him. You knew your mouth was hanging open, and you snapped it shut audibly. 

 “Y-yeah. Yes. My, uh… my tire…” You pointed dumbly. You saw him hop down to the ground, before stretching a little as the passenger door opened. A woman stepped out, her dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. “Blew out.” You finished lamely. The same handsome face you’d seen in papers and magazines and on the news now turned to look at you with genuine sympathy.

 “How long have you been stuck out here?” He asked, leaning down to inspect the remains of your tire. “It’s not exactly the busiest stretch of road.” The woman cleared her throat before you could answer. 

 “You were heading up to the lodge?” She asked, her tone not cold, but impersonal. “It can be hard for the smaller cars.” You nodded, embarrassed. You’d heard that from your mother, of course, but you’d been through more than enough winters with your sedan, why would a dirt road be the catalyst that defeated it? 

 “Yeah. My sister’s getting married up there in two days.” You muttered. “You wouldn’t happen to have a… spare, would you?” You asked reluctantly, but she shook her head. 

 “No, but we can drop you off.” She looked over at Captain America. “Steve, we should get going. We’re expected to report back in an hour.” She spoke as though she was reminding him of something important, but his gaze never wavered from you. 

 “Perfect.” He said with a smile that made you feel a little giddy when he flashed it at you. “Just enough time to drop you off at the lodge. Right, Maria?” He helped you get everything you needed out of the car before loading your bags into the back of the SUV. He was extra careful with the dress bag containing the extremely expensive gown you’d been bullied into buying for the occasion. 

 “Thank you so much,” You mumbled, embarrassed. “Did, um. Are you here because my mom called you?” You regretted the stupid question as soon as it left your mouth, and the deep, rumbling laugh that bubbled from his chest made you look down at your feet. 

 “There’s a base nearby,” He replied, rubbing the back of his neck apologetically. “But, if I’d been told a pretty girl like you was in need of assistance, I’d be first in line to help.” Your cheeks heated and you stuttered out more thanks before speeding into the car with Maria. He’s just being nice. Don’t be stupid. 

 Steve got back into the driver’s seat, buckling in. “Sorry to be a burden,” You apologized from the back seat. 

 “No problem.” Steve answers quickly. He pulls off into the road, and you watch your car quickly fade into the coming night. “You were out there all day?”

 You scoffed, unable to keep the anger from your voice. “Yeah. Well, a good few hours anyway.” 

 “I thought you said your sister was getting married nearby?” Maria asked, turning to look at you. You nodded.

 “Oh she is. I don’t think rescue sister figured particularly high on her list of pre-wedding activities.” You swallowed thickly. You hadn’t meant for it to come out so bitter and jaded, but there was no help for it now. Steve looked at you apologetically in the rearview, his eyes lingering longer than they probably should have, given he was driving. 

 “I’m sorry to hear that.” He looked genuinely upset for you, and it felt both sweet and invasive when he continued questioning you. His tone was casual, and Maria never raised any alarm, so you couldn’t be sure if you were really being interrogated, or if you were just feeling touchy from your terrible day. Six of one half dozen of the other, probably. “It doesn’t sound much like you’re looking forward to the wedding. Never fun attending one of these things alone, either.” 

 “No,” You agreed. “Not really.” You could see the lights from the lodge up ahead, and as the big, black SUV started up the elegantly manicured road leading to the entrance, you were glad your fifteen year old car hadn’t had to be judged by the snobby concierge that greeted you, remarking on your lateness. 

 “Let me help.” Steve unbuckled his seatbelt, and walked around to the back of the car, removing your bags before you or the now starstruck concierge could do it. “It was nice to meet you…” He trailed off, and your face heated as you realized you’d never told him your name. He grinned at you when you said it, repeating it back to you as though tasting it on his tongue. “Very nice to meet you.” He held out his hand, and you moved to shake it—but instead, he brought it to his lips, brushing his thumb softly over your knuckles. 

 “B-bye.” You stammered, watching him climb back into the car. A breath you didn’t know you were holding forced its way out of your lungs and you sagged, suddenly tired. You were shown to your room, which was admittedly nicer than you’d been expecting. As you shoved your suitcase to the side and moved to hang up your dress, a frantic knock came at the door. You opened it, and your mother forced her way inside, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. 

 “Oh, my baby!” She cried dramatically, and you rolled your eyes as she sniffled into your shoulder. “I was so worried!” Not worried enough to come get me, though. You moved aside to allow her into the room, and she sat down on your bed, fixing you with a calculating look. “Are you okay?”

 “I’m fine, mom.” You sighed, doing your best to reign in the attitude. A fight was the last thing you needed. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long and frustrating day.” 

 Your mother sighed dramatically. “I’ll say. You were sorely missed at the bachelorette party, you know. Your sister’s having a lunch tomorrow, so now that you’re here, at least you’ll be able to come to that.” You knew this voice, the ‘I’m not going to say it, but I’m disappointed’ voice. You were long past being an adult now, and it frustrated you to no end to continue hearing it. 

 “Sorry my tire blew out,” You replied sarcastically. “Next time I’ll try to have it happen at your convenience.” The venom spilled from your lips without your permission, and you saw your mother’s eyes narrow as she frowned at you. 

 “Don’t be like that. No one likes a rude girl, honey.” She left the rest of her usual criticism unsaid. You would have been grateful for it, but you could still hear it ringing in your ears in the silence anyway. It’s why you’re still single. You looked away. Don’t fucking remind me. “Your cousin was in the lobby, and she said the Captain America dropped you off, but I told her it had to be a look-alike, because no way does my daughter know Captain America and I don’t know about it.” There it is. This visit of course had a dual purpose, both for her to check on you, and to validate the rumor that appeared to be quickly spreading through the hotel. 

 “I don’t know him.” You retorted, shaking your head. You began pulling your toiletries out of your suitcase, and laying them on the bed. “Apparently there’s some base nearby or something. Saw I’d broken down and stopped to help.” 

 “That’s amazing! Oh, was he nice?” She asked, digging for every detail she could manage. You didn’t mention his imposing presence, or the way his eyes always seemed to be on you no matter where you sat. When you finally herded your mother out of your room, you were happy to finally lay down in the cool, air conditioning in silence. 

 I hope the rest of the weekend goes better than this. 

 👰🏾‍♀️

 The lunch your sister had planned was a far more elaborate affair than you had patience for, as it turned out. She’d always been a little…bougie, but this wedding was already becoming a nightmare. You’d been sent back upstairs to redress in something more “in keeping” with the theme before you’d even set foot in the dining room, and when you did, you found you weren’t allowed to actually eat anything. 

 “I’m in hell.” You muttered to yourself, smiling fakely at the photographers as you held up a tiny plate with a tiny cucumber sandwich on it that you longed to stuff down your throat. “I’m actually in hell.” You’d been smiling and posing for the last hour, with Katherine promising everyone every fifteen minutes that it would be “done suuuper soon”. 

 “Okay, I think we have enough shots.” Katherine announced with a loud clap of her hands. “We’ve got time for a quick snack, and then off to the garden for some more shots!” You peered around the room at the gaggle of hungry, tired women all doing their best to hide their discomfort, sucking it up for Kat’s big day. 

 What a load of bullshit. You crammed three tiny sandwiches into your mouth, and washed it down with lukewarm tea before heading for the bar. If you were going to be forced to smile, it would certainly be easier to do it with a drink in your hand. 

 “Rum and coke please.” you’d just taken a sip when you coughed and sputtered in surprise at the sound of your name. You turned, dabbing gently at the alcohol dotting your lips with a cocktail napkin. 

 Steve Rogers was standing behind you, clad in a suit. An extremely well fitting suit that seemed to emphasize the muscles you’d been trying not to think about since he’d helped you the day before. But what was he doing here? And—Good God—were those flowers? You stared up at him, your eyes wide as you tried to formulate the proper response to seeing an Avenger, not once but twice in as many days. 

 “Hi.” was what your befuddled brain decided to send down to your mouth. His handsome smile grows wider. “You…you’re here.” 

 “I thought maybe you could use the company.” he rubs the back of his neck in that sweet, nervous way you recognize from his interviews. “No fun going to a wedding alone.” he repeated his words from the day before, and you felt an uncomfortable weight settle over you. Your discomfort hadn’t been an invitation for him, though he’d certainly taken it that way. 

 Stop it. He’s being nice, and you’re being cynical. You looked down at the flowers in his hands. “Are those for Kat?” You asked, peering around his broad shoulders to read the room. Your sister was staring, open mouthed as she pointed and whispered at you. Either Steve didn’t hear the murmur traveling through the crowd, or he simply didn’t care as he shook his head.

 “No, doll. They’re for you. Figured it made up for me showing up unannounced and all.” he winked at you before pressing the bouquet into your arms. “You like it?” 

 “Of-of course. Thank you,” You stammered. “I just, I wasn’t… I wasn’t really, um, prepared for this.” You’re still in the middle of trying to sort out how exactly to reject his non-offer—more of a statement than anything—when your sister clears her throat behind the two of you. 

 Steve looks down at her over his shoulder, the smile fading from his blue eyes but not his face. “You must be the bride.” Katherine preened under his attention, batting her eyelashes and giggling. 

 “Ohmygosh, Captain.” She gushed, and you rolled your eyes, downing another sip of your drink. “I had no idea you would be here!” She glares at you accusingly. “I thought my big sister was going stag, she didn’t tell me she’d be bringing the Captain America as your date! Gosh, I didn’t even know you two ran in the same circles!” You swallow thickly, your brows furrowing at the hidden insults peppered throughout Kat’s cutesy introduction. “Will you be staying?” 

 Steve’s eyes swung back over to you, and you swore they traveled hungrily down your exposed neckline. “Yes. Well, provided there’s room, of course. I don’t want to be a bother.” 

 You watched Katherine’s eyes slither between the two of you as a little smirk appeared on her perfectly made up lips. “Oh. You’re not going to be staying together in the suite?” She cocked her head. Oh God. Can’t you get married before you start trying to snipe anyone who’s interested in me? You thought bitterly, before shaking your head inwardly. Steve wasn’t interested in you, was he? He was just being nice, he had to be. 

 Anything else would be too weird. 

 Steve looked at you, his eyebrows rising. “Is that okay?” you were eager for the moment to be over, so you nodded, swallowing the rest of your drink and placing the glass onto the bartop with an audible clack. 

 “Y-yeah. Completely.” 

 “Oh wonderful!” Kat agreed with false enthusiasm. “I’m sure no one will notice he’s not in any of the pictures before today, right?”

 “Jesus, Kat. How many pictures do we need?” You groused. “I mean, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll see you in the garden.” you finally released the breath you held. Steve chuckled. 

 “Is she…always like that?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes. 

 “I think I’m going to need another drink,” you said sourly. “I can’t… I can’t believe you’re here,” you admitted, leaning against the bar. “I’m sure there’s someone, somewhere who needs super-hero-ing.” 

 He laughed. “I thought you could use the assistance.” He replied earnestly. “And… I hate seeing pretty girls upset.” You signaled to the bartender for another drink, your cheeks hot from his compliment. He was so… intense in person, his observant gaze following your every movement. “You should take it easy on those,” he said disapprovingly as the man placed your glass down on the bar. “They sneak up on you.” He lifted the glass, sniffing it. “I remember rum,” He said a little wistfully, before handing it off to you. 

 “Not a drinker?” you asked, and he shook his head. 

 “More by chance than choice,” he said. “I can’t get drunk, but sometimes I like the taste.”

 He snuck an arm around your waist as you filed outside into the garden, your drink in hand. Kat was busily staging everyone and directing the photographers, so you had a few minutes to down it, leaving your empty glass on a small table over to the side. You spotted your mother, most likely busily gossiping and she waved to you enthusiastically. You squinted, and you could see her mouthing “don’t screw this up” as she gestured between you and Steve. You swallowed an angry growl before turning away from her. There’s nothing to screw up.

 “Okay sis, your turn!” Kat sang, motioning for you to come closer. It looked like she was having each of the bridesmaids—of which you were notably not one—taking pictures with their dates. You knew your mother had probably pressured her into including you, a sacrifice she hadn’t needed to make, seeing as how this wedding was the last place you wanted to be. Steve followed behind you, making polite conversation, his hand warm and steady on your back. A bead of sweat rolled down your face, and you wiped it away. 

 Kat positioned you in front of one of the many manicured hedges, directing you to look up at Steve. “You know, natural,” She said in that lightly mocking voice. “Like you care about each other.” Steve tugged you closer to him, and you stumbled forward against his chest. “That’s good.” The sun was beating down on you, and your vision swam with blue—first the clear, cloudless sky, and then Steve’s eyes as they bore into yours. You were dizzy, holding onto him for support rather than pageantry.

 His hand was just above the swell of your ass, skirting the edge between decency and impropriety, but your muddled brain chalked it up to size. He already had a good foot on you, and his hands were massive, he didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, right? His arms were so big, and they were all that was holding you up as your sweaty palm clung to his shoulder.

 “A little more this way,” You could hear Kat’s voice as though she was far away, and you licked your dry lips, your body moving jerkily as Steve positioned you the way he was directed. “Great!” The hand above your ass moved brazenly down to cup it, massaging you through the dress. Your head snapped away from his chest, a scandalized gasp leaving your lips. The world tilted suddenly, and you found yourself holding onto Steve for dear life. He bent his head, his lips and nose brushing affectionately over your forehead, but the words that left his mouth were anything but. 

 “You don’t want to ruin your sister’s wedding, do you doll?” your back was pressed against the hedge, his roaming hand conveniently out of sight as the other cupped your chin. “Smile, doll.” He reminded you, your shocked expression open as you stared disbelievingly up at him. This wasn’t happening. Captain America was a sweet, caring, helpful man. 

 Not a weirdo who felt people up in public, right? Your thoughts were sluggish and almost incomprehensible as you tried to sort through them. It was like sifting sand. You felt drunk—but you couldn’t be, could you? You had notoriously high tolerance, and two little, watered down drinks from Kat’s stupid luncheon wouldn’t make you feel like you’d been out partying like a college kid, would they? “Smile.” Steve repeated softly, his hand slipping underneath the hem of your dress. You plastered a fake, uncomfortable smile onto your features, shifting minutely to try and stop him. 

 A useless effort. His fingers slid easily over the curve of your ass, plucking at the thong you wore before traveling lower. You made a small, displeased noise in your throat, and Steve chuckled. “Shhh, doll.” He whispered lowly against the shell of your ear. His tongue darted out to trace it quickly, and you jerked in his arms, almost falling as your vision swam. “Starstruck, doll? Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” your tongue felt like cotton in your mouth, and the words wouldn’t come to you through the muddy soup of your mind. 

 “N-no,” you murmured sluggishly, and his fingers parted the cheeks of your ass to skirt over your puckered hole. He hmmed quietly in response, kissing your cheek when the photographer told him to. You felt him smile against your skin as he found you damp, the entrance of your cunt sucking at his fingers shamefully. You shouldn’t have been so wet, but it was like your body wasn’t yours anymore 

 “No,” he whispered mockingly, circling it with a finger. You felt weak and feverish, and when you looked up at the sky, the clouds melted and ran together like liquid, swirling in the sky. You pushed away from Steve with strength you didn’t know you had, stumbling off of the little podium and down onto the grass. You could hear people calling your name—your sister, your mother. 

 “Are you okay? Is she alright?” Your mother’s panicked voice was too shrill in your ears, and dazedly you stared up at the swirling sky. Kat’s voice sounded far away, but you still heard her enraged whisper:

 “She’s probably drunk already.” 

 You laughed deliriously.

 Steve’s face swam into your field of vision, and all you could see was his terrifyingly charming smile. “I’ll take her back to the room, make sure she’s okay.” no one seemed to hear your murmured “no” as he swept you into his arms. 

 Stupid wedding.

 When you woke again, you were back in the cool darkness of your room, your head still throbbing like you had a hangover. You could see the sky, tinged pink just outside of your window, meaning you’d been out for hours. You sat up hurriedly, groaning when the room tilted and spun. You held your head in your hands, moaning. 

 “Feeling better?” the sound of Steve’s voice made you blanch, your eyes searching the room wildly. He was half hidden in the dark, sitting in the armchair just across from the bed. His hands were folded neatly in his lap, his eyes intent on you. You still felt groggy and sluggish, and every movement felt like it took every ounce of your will to complete. “I think I may have given you too much, sweetheart, I’m sorry.” he stood from the chair, and you whimpered, pushing back against the headboard. 

 “Y-you drugged me,” you said accusingly, raising a shaking finger at him. “No, stay-stay away!” you cried, dragging yourself across the mattress. You were expecting to feel your legs tangle in the dress you’d been wearing, but when you looked down, you were dressed only in the monogrammed robe provided by the lodge. “Where are my clothes?” Steve sat on the edge of the bed, clucking his tongue at you. 

 “See, this is your problem, sweetheart.” he spoke as though you’d said nothing, ignoring your words in favor of his own. “So wily. I like it though.” He grabbed your wrist, pulling you into his lap easily, despite your weak struggles. “You need structure.” He spread your thighs across his own, and you whimpered as the slick heat at the apex of your thighs pressed against the half-hard length of him through his dress slacks. 

 “You c-can’t just—”

 “I can do whatever I want, sweetheart.” he grasped your chin between two fingers, forcing you to look up at him. You knew your eyes were wet with angry tears, and he groaned at the sight of them, rolling his hips into yours. “Don’t look at me like that, doll, I might just have to keep you.” 

 “I’ll scream.” you threatened, trying unsuccessfully to pull yourself from his vise-like grip. “I’ll tell everyone—”

 “And who will they believe?” his voice was deceptively soft and sweet. “Who’s going to believe the word of a drunk, jealous girl who invited me here?” He ran his index finger down your cheek, swirling it through your tears before popping it into his mouth, groaning. 

 “I didn’t!” 

 “That’s not what everyone else thinks.” his other hand plucked at the tie on your robe, pulling it apart easily. “They all think you wanted me here. And you were so wet for me in the garden, doll.” your face heated at the memory. You didn’t want that. And you didn’t want this. “Just think. The one thing your sister will never have.” the cool air made your nipples pebbled and taut, and Steve wasted no time running an appreciative thumb across them. “So pretty.” he breathed. 

 “W-what? I don’t—” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could this be the same man you’d watched put his own life on the line again and again for people just like you? You couldn’t reconcile it, and Steve didn’t give you any time to try. 

 “The choice is yours, sweetheart.” his lips brushed across your cheek, and he peppered small, light kisses down your jawline. “I’m going to fuck you either way.” His tongue left a burning trail down your throat that made your traitorous pussy clench needily. “You don’t want your whole family knowing you threw yourself at Captain America all sauced up, do you? God, and the news.” Your lip trembled. 

 “Fuck you.” 

 “Oh doll. I’m going to.” still cupping your face with one strong hand, he kept his eyes locked on yours as the other slid between your breasts and down your stomach. You whined and tried to pull away, knowing he would find—“Wet? And here I thought you didn’t like me, sweetheart.” He slipped a knowing finger through your folds, groaning when you keened as he circled your clit. 

 “It’s the drugs.” you spat, avoiding the smirk on his face as you focused your gaze over his shoulder. He chuckled, pinching your throbbing nub between rough fingers. You cried out, your hips bucking against his hand. It had to be. 

 “Look at me, sweet pea.” he commanded you gently, but you continued resolutely staring at the wall. “Don’t make me ask again.” his grip on your face tightened, and you sniffled, before reluctantly dragging your eyes up to his. “Don’t be a brat, sweetheart. No one likes a rude girl.” he spat your mother’s words back at you, and your stomach curled in response. 

 “What, are you tapping my phone?” you snap, glaring at him hatefully. He drags his fingers through your sopping folds as he shakes his head. 

 “Easier just to bug your suitcase, doll.” he kissed your cheek again, and you tried to turn your head away as he moved to find your lips, but you were too weak. You hated how soft his kiss was, tempting your lips open with gentle passes of his tongue and teeth. You whimpered into his mouth and he drank it greedily, sucking on your tongue and swallowing every sound you made. You tried to hold in the moan that rose in your throat when he plunged two thick fingers into you, but he chucked against your lips and you knew he’d heard it anyway. “Come on. Let me hear it.” 

 He pulled away, scissoring two fingers inside of you and you moaned again, unable to swallow it a second time. “S-stop—”

 “You don’t want me to stop. You want to cum all over my fingers and my cock, because if you don’t, I’m going to tell your family and the world that you’re an alcoholic slut who can’t keep her legs closed to save her fucking life.” He used that same caring, kind tone you knew so well to deliver the threat and you shuddered. You hated the tears that gathered in your eyes at his words, and the way he punctuated it with a hard thrust of his fingers into you that made a gurgle escape your throat and your eyes roll in your head. “Say it.” 

 “I—I—” you tried to stammer out a response, but he cut you off mockingly. 

 “What’s wrong, sweet pea? That smart mouth all out of things to say? Maybe I should find a better use for it.” 

 “I want to…I want to cum on your fingers and your cock.” you muttered defeatedly. Steve curled his fingers inside of you and you sputtered, sinking your teeth into your lower lip to keep from crying out. 

 “What was that? I didn’t hear you.” 

 “I want to cum on your fingers and your cock!” you wailed as his thumb pressed down hard on your clit. You didn’t want to, but it didn’t seem to matter what you wanted, because you were going to anyway. Your toes curled as you began panting, your head falling back as you stared sightlessly at the ceiling. “Nnngh, fuck—”

 “That’s it, sweet pea. Can’t wait to feel you squeeze my cock with this tight pussy.” you were seizing around him violently, your voice bouncing off the walls. He flicked his thumb against your clit two, three more times before you sobbed, tears leaking down your cheeks as you came. Shame flooded you as you coated his fingers with the evidence of your release. You could feel it coating your thighs and soaking into the fabric of his pants beneath you. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, through his dress shirt, your body still convulsing as you whimpered. “Shit, doll. You’re fucking soaking me.” He sounded impressed with himself. 

 You hated the boneless pleasure that continued to wash over you as you slumped forward against Steve’s chest, and the soft circles his hand made on your back. “Why are you doing this?” You mumbled, feeling the outline of his cock slide against you through his pants. He laid your still twitching body on the bed, his eyes traveling hungrily over every inch of your flesh. 

 “I wanted you.” was the only explanation he offered before tearing impatiently at the collar of his shirt, buttons pinging off of the walls and furniture as they flew in all directions. “Tell me the truth doll—and I’ll know if you don’t—anybody ever made that pretty pussy cum like that before?” you shook your head resolutely, but the slow grin that spread across his handsome face told you he knew your truth anyway, without you telling him a thing. You watched his hand slip below the waistband of his pants, his eyes going lidded as he stroked himself. You hated the greedy clench of your pussy at the sight of the fat, reddened tip protruding lewdly from the elastic of his briefs—which disappeared as quickly as the rest of his clothes had. “That’s okay, sweet pea. I’ll make an honest woman of you, yet.” 

 He stroked his length lazily, swiping his thumb through the thick droplet of precum gathered at the tip. “Say aah, sweetheart.” he tugged you up by your wrist, pulling you up to your knees. You swallowed thickly, your lip trembling as the throbbing head of his cock bumped against your cheek, leaving a sticky trail in its wake. Reluctantly, you opened your mouth, your tongue darting out to taste his skin. Steve’s hips bucked. “That’s it. Fuck.” you ran your tongue down the veiny side, your hand coming up to test the weight of his swollen balls in your palm. You briefly thought about biting down, but you immediately force it away—he could break you with a flick of his finger. 

 You laved the other side of his cock with your tongue and wet kisses, before sucking the tip into your mouth. He groaned, his hands framing your face as he thrust shallowly into the wet warmth of your mouth. You tried to relax your throat, but it was hard. He was so big and thick, your jaw was already aching from the stretch. He released a ragged groan, holding your mouth open as he slid his cock down your throat. You tried to gasp, sputtering around his length as spit leaked from the corners of your mouth. “Love this sweet mouth, doll,” he praised you, stroking the bulge of his cock through the flesh of your throat with deceptively gentle fingers. 

 Your vision began graying out at the edges, the tiny gasps of oxygen you could manage around his throbbing length doing nothing to alleviate the burning in your lungs. He thrust again, bringing your nose flush with the wiry blond hair at the base of his cock. Tears trailed down your cheeks, and he groaned at the sight of them before finally pulling himself from between your lips. You gasped for air, coughing and choking as he threw you back against the pillows. 

 “You’re a fast learner, sweet pea. I like it.” he growled at you, fisting his cock in one hand. He spread your thighs easily with one hand, looking up at you sternly when you tried to fight him. “Good girl.” He filled your vision, covering your body with his own as he lined the weeping tip of his cock up with your embarrassingly wet entrance. “All this for me, doll? I’m flattered.” He slid himself through your folds, enjoying the slick wet noise as he pushed against you. 

 “I-it’s the drugs!” You cried stubbornly, shaking your head. “Y-you did something to me.” 

 He chuckled darkly, leaning down to brush his lips against yours. Steve licked a hot, wet trail down to your throat, where he sank his teeth into your flesh as you whimpered. “You want to know a secret, sweetheart?” he worried the skin between his teeth, releasing it with a wet pop. You knew you would bruise. “They wore off hours ago.” He thrust into you without giving you time to process his words, and your shriek of protest turned into a cry of pleasure. Even the sting of his entry felt too good, and stars burst behind your eyes. 

 Steve rocked up into you steadily, hooking your leg around his waist so he could fill you even more deeply. Every thrust left you keening and breathless, the head of his cock pushing deliciously against your cervix. Your hips arched up into him without your permission, your own wetness adding to the cacophony of sound filling the room. 

 “So fucking tight,” he growled, his fingers digging hard into your hip. You tried to hold onto the anger and the shame he made you feel, but it was swept away in the tide of pleasure he’d sparked at your core. Your pussy clenched tightly around him, your moans filling the air as he bottomed out inside of you over and over again.

 “Fuck, fuck, S-Steve—!” 

 “I know doll,” he panted, hips snapping rhythmically against yours. “So fucking good, right?” he threw his head back, moaning and cursing. “Gonna have to keep you. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” his hands left your hips, one pinning your arms above your head, and the other tracing your trembling mouth as he rutted into you with abandon. “Make you my girl.”

 He hit something inside you that made you scream raggedly, writhing underneath him. He gave you no quarter, and every time you tried to scoot away, he punished you with deep, rough thrusts that made you gasp as you stared sightlessly through him with tears running down your cheeks. The sight of them seemed to spur him on, and you felt him throb inside you. “Ah—ahn—” he wouldn’t let you close your mouth, nor bite your lip to hide the sounds you were making. 

 “Never pictured you for a cry-baby,” he choked the words out as he continued wringing pleasure from your shaking form. “My girl, crying because it’s so fucking good.” you wanted to deny it but you couldn’t, not with evidence to the contrary leaking out around his thrusting cock. You felt like your insides were melting, hot pleasure sparking at every nerve ending. You hated how desperate he made you feel, how he made you want to come apart all over the thick cock buried in your aching pussy. “Tell me you’re my girl and I’ll let you cum, sweetness.” 

 “N-n-no!” he thrust two fingers into your mouth, spreading them wide as you continued to try and protest around them. 

 “Only good girls get to cum, sweetheart. You want to be good for me, don’t you?” his words were punctuated by his own fractured moans. He trailed his wet fingers down your jawline and chest, squeezing your breasts with a rough hand before the pad of his thumb found your clit again. Your hips bucked as you cried out breathlessly, and he chuckled. “I see how bad you want it, doll.” His lips were on yours again, teeth pulling at your lips and tongue. “Are you? Are you my girl?”

 “Yes!” you sobbed, your thighs quaking around his pistoning hips. “Yes, yes, yes—” and then you were cumming, white hot bliss washing over you until you drowned in it. You were floating, your limbs unresponsive as Steve fucked into you harder, releasing your wrists to grasp both of your hips. He pulled you against him roughly, forcing the length of his cock into your spasming cunt. It was so overwhelming it was almost pain, and when he came with a roar, you heard a splintering crack as the headboard broke in his grip. 

 Your pussy was flooded with wet heat, soothing the aching of your walls as Steve panted above you, his blue eyes fever bright. You watched as he pulled out of you slowly, his eyes locked onto your swollen and abused cunt. Your face heated with embarrassment as you felt his cum begin to dribble out of you, pooling between your thighs and under your ass. Slowly, like he was hypnotized, Steve dragged a finger through the combination of both of your releases, pushing it back inside of you. He brought the finger to your mouth, and you opened your lips after he fixed you with a harsh glare. 

 You swirled your tongue around his index finger, cleaning it. 

 “Good girl, doll.” 

 It’s over now. It’s done. Your body sagged with relief as he rose from the bed, stretching. You watched him gather his clothing, hugging your knees to your chest. He’ll leave now. He’ll leave and I’ll never have to see him again. Your hopeful thoughts withered and died, however, when you watched him pull an entirely fresh suit out of your closet, one that certainly hadn’t been there the day before. 

 “What… what are you doing?” you asked in a small voice. He turned to wink at you. 

 “What do you mean, sweet pea? I’d hate to miss the rehearsal dinner.” 

Fin

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #dark!mcu #dark marvel #dark!steve smut #steve rogers x black reader #boxofbonesfic #fic request #smut #mcu fanfiction #dark marvel fic

[komfortkiri]

HELP WANTED (PART 1)

WOLF QUIRK F!READER x HANTA SERO x EIJIRO KIRISHIMA WORD COUNT: 1,724 TW/CW: BULLYING MENTION, PARENTAL ABANDONMENT, PANIC ATTACK MENTION (ONCE)

NOTES: I’ll make a banner for this series whenever I get my shit together on Photoshop, lol. I’ve been on a Sero/Kiri thing lately plus this was brewing in my head so I wanted to hurry and type it all down before I forgot it.

“ HELP WANTED! 3RD AND FINAL ROOMMATE FOR A 3 BEDROOM, 2 BATH HOUSE. — MUST BE RESPONSIBLE AND RELIABLE. TEXT THE NUMBER FOR ANY QUESTIONS. NAME IS KIRI. ”

You had been staring at this ad for a couple of days now. Surely they must have found someone by now, right? You were new around the area and being on your own, wasn’t quite what you had imagined. Your parents? Well, your mom up and decided to leave you behind after bringing you home from the hospital and your dad.. He’s always been there but you wanted to prove you could finally be on your own. You were 24 for God’s sake, of course you could do it, but sometimes— you found yourself wondering if you bit off more than you could chew. Living in this big city full of crazy quirks of all kind, including yours, it was pretty overwhelming.

Oh, your quirk? Well, you were part wolf and people could tell that from looking at you, due to your pointed black ears that rested on either side of the top of your head plus a tail that was pretty fluffy and was also black in color.. Can’t forget the fangs that you have, too. Your howl could deafen someone for a brief amount of time, distracting them. You also had the agility which mean you could run— fast. 

Growing up wasn’t easy at all. You were often teased about your appearance. Kids would pull your tail, thinking it didn’t hurt you when in reality, it did. You spent majority of your childhood wondering why you had to have such an awful quirk, blaming your father since he was also part wolf. However, as you got older, you became more mature and focused more on yourself. Of course, you apologized to your father, which brought the two of your closer, allowing you to confess the reasoning behind why your child days were so… dark and why you lashed out in such ways. 

Your father was a strong man, taking on a few jobs at a time to support you and his self while also keeping the bills paid on time. You admired him for that but you didn’t want to depend on him anymore which led you to where you are right this second— staring at this damned ad, wondering when you’re going to build up some type of courage to text the number. “Oh, for all that is holy, just do it.” You grew tired of being scared so you brought out your phone and texted the number.

TO KIRI: Hey… I was texting about your ad about needing a third roommate and wanted to inquire about it, if you haven’t found anyone yet.

You thought about it again.. What if it was a scam? Oh, you literally brought your palm to your forehead, tapping it a times then halted when your phone buzzed. You looked at the screen, eyes widening in surprise because it was the number from the ad. You had your phone set to where you wouldn’t be able to see previews of your messages unless you unlocked it fully. You braced yourself for a ‘Sorry, we’ve found someone’ or something along those lines. You wouldn’t be surprised since it did take you forever to even act on this whole thing. You swiped left on the message, unlocked your phone, squeezing your eyes shut then took a deep breath. Your right eye slowly opened, eyesight adjusting to the brightness of your screen then falling amongst the words of this Kiri’s response. Your other eye shot open in shock, both your ears perking up.

FROM KIRI: Awesome! We haven’t really had any luck with anyone reliable.. so since that’s the case.. would you mind if me and the other roommate meet you for, say.. coffee? How’s tomorrow morning sound around 8:30-ish?

Thinking to yourself, were you reliable? Of course, you were. Responsible? Absolutely. You worked at a local animal shelter, coincidentally. You worked more with dogs than cats, though, which came with the territory. Dogs obviously gravitated more to you given your natural wolf scent that only they detected with their sense of smell. Recently, you were moved into a management position so you were paid pretty well, which struck up this whole idea to be on your own, per se. Before you could think any further, did you work tomorrow? No, perfect. You rolled over onto your stomach on your bed, tail moving from side-to-side.

TO KIRI: Of course! That sounds great. There’s a coffee shop a few blocks from where I currently stay.. called Camille’s Cafe, not sure if you have heard of it or would prefer something else?

Were you coming off pushy? Demanding? At this point, you didn’t know and you were so nervous that it was driving you crazy but before you could go into panic mode— you got a text back, agreeing on the meeting place and everything. That was… easy.. almost too easy.. Either way, you were thankful they wanted to meet in a public setting in case they really were scammers. That’s when the thought had hit you.. What if they were guys? Kiri didn’t necessarily sound like a guy’s name.. did it? You laughed at your overthinking. No way these were guys.

With that, you looked at the clock on your bedroom wall, it reading 9:30 PM. You decided to go ahead and settle into bed to get enough rest so you didn’t look like a walking zombie when you met your potential roommates for coffee. You plugged in your phone to the charger and laid down, laying awake for an extra hour or so before drifting to sleep.

After a long day of getting phone call after phone call, text after text from different people saying they were interested in their ad, Eijiro and Hanta were close to giving up. Everyone who showed interest had some type of flaw about them, whether it be a bad history of paying rent on time or being an awful roommate in the past. It was becoming annoying, to say the very least. After denying everyone who reached out, Eijiro thought it was best to just block all the numbers to prevent further contact.

“Bro, I’m beginning to lose hope. We probably won’t ever find someone else to move in with us.” Hanta sat down on the couch in the living room with a sigh, kicking his feet up on the table in front of him. “Might as well talk to Kats about ditching that condo he’s in to move in over here with us.” They had thought about that a few times but even the slight mention of a roommate the first time, their friend, Katsuki, was the first to say not to even consider him because he valued his privacy. They didn’t press further because they understood and knew how he was. 

Eijiro sat on the other end of the couch, directly across from Hanta, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands. “You know exactly how that’ll go, Sero. I say the next person that texts us, we invite to coffee and really figure shit out. It’s been days since we posted that ad, and you know that we need the help we can get.” Hanta nodded in agreement then both their eyes shot down to Eijiro’s phone that lit up with a unsaved number, inquiring about the roommate situation. Hanta moved over to the same side as where Eijiro was to sit down once the red head picked up his phone to look at the message. 

“Huh, look at that! It’s almost like this person heard you.” Hanta chuckled, looking over the message. “What do you think? Coffee?” Eijiro nodded then sent his first text out in response to the inquirer.

TO (YOU): Awesome! We haven’t really had any luck with anyone reliable.. so since that’s the case.. would you mind if me and the other roommate meet you for, say.. coffee? How’s tomorrow morning sound around 8:30-ish?

Sero scowled, “8:30 in the morning, dude? You really must be desperate because we sleep till like noon on our days off. That or you’re hoping it’s a girl.” He laughed then got up to circle around the furniture to head to the kitchen. “I mean, it might be a girl… and it might be good for us. Could teach us a few things.” Kirishima didn’t think about what all that last statement could entail but Sero, thankfully, didn’t catch onto it. “I guess so. Did they respond?” Just as soon as he finished asking his question, another text came through. 

“How do you feel about Camille’s down the road?” Kirishima looked over to Sero who thought for a minute then shrugged with a nod, “Alright, yeah. I could go for one of her bagels. We haven’t seen the lady in a while so we should pay her a visit.” Camille was an older woman who had a heart of gold and loved both Kirishima and Sero. They always were such gentleman when they came in but they stopped going once the crime rate escalated the past few weeks. 

“That’s true. I told the person it sounded great so. Let’s head to bed so we can actually wake up early and look decent instead of a mess.” Kirishima rose from the sofa to head toward his room. Sero called out, “Wouldn’t have to get beauty sleep at all if you didn’t schedule this meeting at the crack ass of dawn.” With that, Kirishima held out his arm behind him, giving Sero the middle finger. “Stop your bitching and go to bed, princess.”

Sero laughed and both settled into bed for the night. While one went to sleep pretty quick, the other laid awake, wondering who this mystery person could be. The thought of whether it was a female or not, really stuck to Eijiro’s mind. He had hoped that if it was, they wouldn’t be scared away by the fact that they’d be living with two guys should they accept the offer at all. Kirishima wanted them to be as comfortable as possible and that’s what he intended on doing and without noticing, he drifted into a deep sleep.

#eijiro kirishima x reader #Kirishima x reader x Sero #mha x reader #Hanta Sero #Eijiro Kirishima #Hanta Sero x Reader

[byunbaekby]

to the one who ran away—park jisung.

warnings: none! word count: 2.2k series: letters never sent  summary: a collection of letters. never sent, never read, never shared, these words are for you and you only. they exist to simply remind you of your emotions, and how strong and all-consuming they can be. when you look back upon these notes, you’re reminded of all your failed love stories, happy endings nowhere in sight. will you ever find the one?  

Your mom catches you staring at the neighbor’s son sitting on the grass across the street. 

“Honey, just go over and say hi.” Your mom beckons you, taking a box from your dad as he lifts it out of the moving van. You blink, staring at the boxes still left to be unsheathed. 

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm,” she encourages, already beginning to walk back inside the house. “I’m sure he’s nice, just go and introduce yourself. Just like I taught you.” She shoots an encouraging smile your way, but you continue standing. It’s not like you can help unload the boxes, you’re only nine for god’s sake. 

“Okay!” You agree, a gracious childish smile on your lips as you grab your doll, a little stuffed rag at this point, and skip across the street to the neighbor’s house; not without looking both ways across the road, though. 

The neighbor’s lawn is bigger than yours, with a big old tree in the middle of the green grass. Underneath that tree and resting under the shade, a little boy is playing with his toy train. He looks like he’s the same age as you. As you approach he doesn’t seem to notice you, even though you’re hopping and skipping with every step. The front door of his house is open, but his parents are nowhere to be found. 

“Hi!” You exclaim, probably a bit too excitedly as you jump on the grass right in his field of view. He looks up and his eyes widen comically. You don’t even give him time to respond as you jump into the introduction your mom had taught you: “Hi, my name is Y/N, I’m nine years old. My favorite color is purple, I’m an only child, I just moved in, and I want to be frie—”

You don’t get to finish, because the boy stumbles to his feet and runs inside the house, clutching his train to his chest. “H-Hey! Come back!” But he doesn’t, and you’re just left there standing alone. 

Perhaps you had come on a bit too strong. 

Narrowing your eyes, you try to gaze inside the house but to no avail. A sigh leaves your lips. 

Yeah, definitely too strong. 

You’re about to walk back home, swinging your raggedy doll, but a woman walks out from the door. She’s tall and slim, but behind her you see him again. That same boy, except now his toy is out of sight and he peers over at you with frightened eyes from behind his mom. 

“Hi,” the woman speaks, her voice soft and sweet. “Who are you, sweetie?”

You stare up at her tall figure, gulping before replying. “I’m Y/N, I’m nine years old. My favorite color is purple, I’m an only child, I just moved in, and... I want to be friends.” Unlike her son, she lets you finish your long practiced speech.

The eyes with which she gazes at you are sweet and awestruck. “Aw,” she coos, reaching behind her to rub her son’s dark hair. “Look Jisung-ie, she just wants to be friends with you.” He continues to peek at you meekly, still grasping onto his mom’s leg. “Do you want to be friends with Y/N?”

For a long moment, he just stares. He’s taking in your appearance, your pigtails, the bows on the tip of your shoes, and the doll you have in your hands. You try your best to look nice under his scrutiny, wearing the bright smile that you practiced in the mirror. He seems to take a long time to make a decision, but you and his mom wait patiently. 

“No,” he finally says before scurrying back into the house. 

—age nine.

“So are you like, sad?”

You sit up and ask Jisung, who lays a couple feet away from you. You’re both on his front lawn, perched on the grass under the shade of the very tree you had first met him under. It’s the first time in the while that you’ve hung out like this,not since he decided suddenly that he had a crush on your classmate Kim Minju. 

Your best friend stops touching his phone for a second to think, as if pondering your question. A silence ensues. You expect him to be sad, it’s normal after all. His first relationship, down the drain. But how serious can a twelve year old’s romance be, anyways? He seems to come to this conclusion also, for he shakes his head. “Nah.” 

“Not at all?”

“Not really.”

You blink at him, not really understanding his point of view. He asks you next, “Are you sad? About Samuel?”

His question catches you a bit off guard, but after a moment you shake your head. You didn’t really like Samuel all that much other than the week after he had given you a candy bar for Valentines’ Day. That week, you were basically in love with him. But now, not really. You’d preferred Jisung’s company more than Sam’s. 

“No.” You respond, laying back down in the grass next to him. 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, watching the sunlight slide between the dancing leaves, until he speaks up. “Good.” 

—age twelve.

Dear Jisung,

To be honest, I have no idea what the heck I’m trying to write here. I was talking to my mom about you, and she told me that if I have so many things to say, then I should write a letter. So here I am. I don’t think she meant it seriously, though. But to be honest I’m getting real fed up with you, so I took her seriously. 

Here’s why you’re getting on my nerves, even though it’s already been a year since you moved. Actually, that’s why I’m mad at you. Because you left. 

Mom says that you had no choice, and that you were moving because you had to. But she’s wrong. Completely, totally wrong. She has absolutely no idea how I’m feeling right now. I’m not mad because you moved to a new town to a new house with a new school and a new best friend that you post on your MySpace feed all the time now. I’m mad because you moved without saying anything. 

You see, Jisung, when I met you that day I moved in, I knew you were going to be someone special to me. I was only nine (and taller than you, which I know you hated), but I knew you were going to be my best friend. You remember it, don’t you? The way I skipped across the street into your yard and demanded you be my friend? You were scared, stranger danger of course, but your mom encouraged you to play with me. I knew, I just knew in my little bones that you were going to be my best friend. 

And you were. 

For a short while, at least. Four years with me by your side, it must have been annoying huh? I know for me it was. I considered giving you away a couple times. Especially when you cut off one of my pigtails after I ate the last gummy worm! That was low, and even you knew it. 

But for the most part, I really liked having you as my best friend. It was nice, carpooling with you to school every morning in the back of your mom’s old van, then walking home together. It was even nicer always having someone to hang out with at any hour of the day, just across the street. We saw each other every day for four years, but I never got bored of being friends with you. For a long time, it felt like it was you and me against the world, even if the world we knew was just the street we lived on. Even though you eventually grew taller than me, I was always smarter than you. 

I was smarter than you because I figured out that you liked me before you even knew. 

That one day, when we were twelve, you saw Kim Samuel give me a candy bar on Valentines’ Day. Then the next day, I saw you holding hands with Kim Minju. She was your girlfriend for like, two weeks until Samuel started crushing on the new girl in our class. That was really dumb and stupid of us, little twelve year olds thinking we knew anything about relationships. But what can I say, we’re only fourteen now anyways. We might not know anything, but I know this: you liked me. 

First, I knew it because I saw the look in your eyes in the school hallway when Samuel gave me that Kit-Kat bar; you must have been jealous. I’ll admit, I was jealous too. I was jealous because Minju only lived down the street from us and you insisted on walking her home every day too. So then, our after school walks home and adventures grew to three people. 

And everybody knows that the sidewalk is only big enough for two people to walk side by side.

After you “broke up” with her (twelve year olds breaking up, how tragic), things went back to normal. But then we were thirteen and I heard from someone in our class that you liked me. They whispered it in my ear during art class, making me spill pink paint all over my blue sky. You liked me. Like, liked me. It should have been surprising but it wasn’t really. 

Because I liked you too. 

You must have known, the way I did. After that, I waited for you to confess to me. Why? I don’t know, I was lame okay? I thought that guys were always supposed to be the one to confess. It seemed romantic at the time but now I just wish I had spoken up. 

In some ways, I tried. Do you remember that one Friday when we were walking home, and I hooked my index finger around your’s? That took a lot of courage. You seemed fine, but when we got home you ripped your hand from mine without even saying goodbye. And then on my birthday, when you surprised me with that bracelet that I had been wanting from the mall, I tried to hug you, but differently. Instead of hugging your chest like I usually did, I tried to wrap my arms around your neck. It’s different. It’s more… intimate in a way. I had to tippy-toe. 

But you pulled away. 

Literally, you just slid your head under my arms and then rubbed your neck awkwardly before running back to your house. Imagine how that felt. 

And then one day, two weeks after school finished, I saw the moving truck parked in your driveway. I had been scared, running to my mom and almost running outside, but she stopped me. “Jisung and his mom are moving to Seoul,” she said. Tch, you didn’t even tell me. She said she knew for a week already, which meant you already knew since before school got out. She thought you’d told me already. But the thing is, you didn’t. 

I waited and waited, and guess what, I waited a little bit more. But you never came. 

And then two days later, you left. Just like that. Just in and out of my life. 

You didn’t even say goodbye.

While I was waiting, I saw you a couple times. From my bedroom window, I could see your driveway perfectly. Sometimes, while packing boxes into the truck, you looked over at my house. Once, I even saw you walk across the street, stop in the middle, then walk back home. Why did you do that?

Did our friendship not mean anything to you? Four years of teasing, walks home, sharing ice cream cones at the shop because we couldn’t afford two between us? I guess not.

You don’t even call anymore, and it’s not because you don’t know my house number. You knew it by heart, because you used to call me when you needed help with homework. It’s only been a year, but I wonder if you ever think of me. It can’t be that easy to forget me, can it? Even when I watched you and your mom drive away in that big old moving truck, with your head hanging out the window watching the street you grew up on slide past, I always thought you would come back. 

But you haven’t. And that’s the thing about you, Jisung. You always run away. From people, from things that scare you, from things that make you uncomfortable. You ran away when I wanted to be your friend. You ran away when the neighbor’s big dog got loose and jumped in front of us on the way home. You ran away when I tried to hold your hand. Always running. Doesn’t it get tiring? It annoys me so much. I would call you a coward but that’s a really mean word and in some ways I’m a coward too. 

My mom says that friends come and go, and that life will move on. I guess she’s right. So it’s time for me to let you go. I really don’t want to, but I guess it’s time. Trust me, this is the hardest thing I’ve done in all fourteen years of my life. 

I’m sure your new house in Seoul is nice, but I doubt you have a big tree in your yard to play cards under or a neighbor who will hang out with you whenever you’re bored. I really hope not, so you can remember to miss me sometimes. 

Bye, Jisung. Thanks for being my friend. 

From your neighbor,

Y/N.

—written at age fourteen. no address, never sent. 

#neowritingsnet #dreamwritersnet #NCT-WRITERS #jisung fluff #jisung angst #jisung fanfic #jisung drabbles #jisung scenarios #nct dream #nct #nct jisung #jisung #jisung x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream fanfic

[thekadster]

seize the date (jatherine first date fluff)

Fandom: Newsies (All Media Types)

Word Count: 2,144

Trigger Warnings: none!

❝Jack Kelly was the fearless, charismatic leader of the Manhattan newsies. His name was respected in all the city, even by Spot Conlon himself. A good fighter, a great newsie, and even a father figure to some of the kids in his care. With that kind of resume, one would assume that there weren't a lot of things that scared him, and they would be right.

But then, there came the girl.

And boy, was he scared.❞

also read it on ao3!

“I can’t do this, Dave.”

Jack groaned and pressed his forehead against the brick wall. Davey, arms crossed and standing next to him, rolled his eyes. “Jack, we’ve gone over this ten times.”

Jack turned to look at him. “It’s been ten already?”

“Well, eleven.”

Jack ran a shaky hand through his hair. He shrugged, straightened his vest, adjusted his hat, dusted off his pants, did every little thing to smoothen out every single one of his rough, ragged edges. He took a deep breath of the cool afternoon breeze. “Do I look okay?” he asked.

“You look fine,” replied Crutchie, patting him on the back.

Jack tensed up. “Fine ain’t gonna cut it.”

“What he means to say,” Davey quickly interjected. “Is that you look ready.”

Jack was quiet. Was he ready, though? I mean, he had to be. He had been prepping for this day for over a month. He had dreamed of this! Of course he was ready!

“I don’t feel like it,” he mumbled, finding his voice.

Davey put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine,” he reassured. “The fact that you even prepared is more than enough. She’s gonna love it.”

Crutchie hummed in agreement. Jack grumbled and fixed his collar. Looking over Davey’s shoulder, he instantly tensed up. Whispering to his two friends and patting their backs, he quickly sent them away. They crossed the street, briefly smiling and waving at the approaching girl.

Jack Kelly was the fearless, charismatic leader of the Manhattan newsies. His name was respected in all the city, even by Spot Conlon himself. A good fighter, a great newsie, and even a father figure to some of the kids in his care. With that kind of resume, one would assume that there weren't a lot of things that scared him, and they would be right.

But then, there came the girl.

And boy, was he scared.

“Hey!” a chipper voice called. There she was, now taking her last few steps towards him; Katherine Plumber: his latest love, and his latest fear.

“Heya, Kat,” Jack replied, grinning. He held out his arm. “Shall we, Miss Plumber?”

Katherine giggled. “After you, Mister Kelly.”

As much as he was a nervous wreck behind his facade, he was genuinely glad that this day had come. It would just be them and the fire escape, plain and simple. No need to worry about the noise of the world below. What could possibly go wrong?

Not a lot, Jack prayed.

He led her up the rusted metal rails, slowing down to match her pace. As much as her long skirt and boots proved to be a nuisance, Katherine’s heart began to swirl with exhilaration. She had been up this way before, but the feeling of climbing so high up was still an adventure to her. As the ground grew further and further away, the more her heart pumped. 

“Well, here she is,” Jack spoke, swinging open a small metal gate. “Welcome to my “penthouse”.”

In reality, the area was rather small, just enough to fit two boys and a sack of belongings in the corner. But as soon as Katherine turned around, she quickly remembered where Jack got the name from. She was met with the sight of hundreds of buildings, probably even thousands, if she counted. She leaned forward on the railing. The last time she was here was under much different circumstances, and it was only now that she got to properly take in the view. All of them looked so proud and tall from the ground. It’s crazy how different things can seem when you put them in a new perspective, she realized.

“We’re so high up,” whispered Katherine.

“Yeah,” replied Jack.

Jack quietly joined her side, looking out into the skyline he knew so well. It was weird, he thought. He had seen this view thousands of times before, it became just another part of living here. But now, the water towers and the buildings and their big signs all seemed to have a new glow in the afternoon sun. But the sun couldn’t do much. Perhaps it was who he was with that made all the difference, and who shined brighter than the sun could ever hope to.

“It’s beautiful,” added Katherine, a smile tugging at her lips.

Jack turned to look at her. “Not as beautiful as you.”

She laughed, feeling heat quickly rush to her face. “Are you afraid of heights?”

“Would I be livin’ up here if I was?”

“Ha! Fair enough.”

“Are you?” asked Jack.

Katherine paused, then leaned closer to him. “Not anymore.”

Jack stayed still, even though his face was already flushed. Awkwardly clearing his throat, he gestured for them to sit down on a neatly laid-out blanket. She gave him an amusing look, but played along. “So,” he began, quickly changing the topic. “How’s work?”

“It’s been okay, just grabbing whatever story I can find,” replied Katherine.

“Anybody givin’ ya trouble?”

She shrugged. “Not really, actually. After I wrote about you and the boys, a lot of people started taking me more seriously.”

“Good,” said Jack. “It’s better than the ballet, ain’t it?”

“Anything’s better than the ballet.”

They laughed. Although they would never say it out loud, if you’d ask them, they would say that the other’s laugh could light up New York.

“How about you? How’s work?” asked Katherine, shifting in her place.

“Same old thing,” answered Jack. “The fellas are doin’ okay. Oh, and this mornin’, Finch hit one a’ the Delanceys in the head with his slingshot.”

She chuckled, eyes widening in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah! Kid ran like hell, I tell ya.”

“Who was it, Oscar or Morris?”

Jack scratched his head. “Morris, I think.”

Katherine smiled to herself, her eyes distant for a brief moment. “You know, I went to kindergarten with them.”

Jack’s mouth gaped. “You know the Delanceys? You went to school with ‘em?”

“Yeah,” she laughed. “They were the biggest troublemakers. There wouldn’t be a day where they wouldn’t be in the time-out corner. Oh, and when both of them got into trouble, the teacher would put them on opposite ends of the room.”

“Sounds about right,” he remarked. As soon as she turned her head, Jack quickly hid the newspaper he was sketching on.

“How’s Crutchie doing, by the way?” she asked.

“He’s doin’ fine. Still smilin’ no matter what, if that’s what you mean. Folks are happy to see him back on the street. ‘S got loyal customers that got worried when he stopped showin’ up. That kid’s a ray a’ sunshine.”

“I’m sure.” Katherine’s heart softened, watching a warm smile creep up on Jack’s face at the thought of his best friend. She looked around. As simple as his humble abode was, she couldn’t help but be charmed. It was like his own little safe haven, a place that the noisy, messy world below could never reach. “When did you start living up here?”

He shrugged. “Probably one, two years ago?”

She nodded. “Why don’t you live in the Lodging House?”

“‘S mostly to give the other kids more room,” replied Jack. “Plus, nothin’ beats the view up here.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Katherine stood up and looked back out into the city.

Jack noticed her long silence and looked up at her, the girl and her wonder-filled eyes, gazing at a city that was at her fingertips. Her father ran this town. He owned the biggest newspaper business in all the country. With that kind of power, she would have all sorts of friends in high spaces. Friends with big houses, fancy clothes, and money to burn. Right now, she could’ve been anywhere else, hanging with high society’s cream of the crop.

But she wasn’t, he realized. She was with him. Just another scrappy newsboy with a dream.

It was no secret that Katherine grew up much more differently than the newsies; the world was practically handed to her on a silver platter. She never had to want for much. She had money, status, and everything a girl could wish for. Her father was the wealthiest man in the whole city. But being up here, being with him, it was something she wouldn’t trade for anything her father could buy.

Jack quietly stood up beside her, and taking a breath, he threw a newspaper airplane, interrupting her trance. They smiled at each other, watching the high, crisp breeze carry it away. She folded another sheet and threw it off the fire escape, but it only got so far until it took a nosedive.

“At least it’ll be easier to find,” said Jack.

Katherine laughed. “I was never good at paper planes.” Her eyes caught sight of the World building, not too far away. “Say, have you thought about the job my father gave you?”

Jack stared at his own plane, still flying in the distance. “‘M plannin’ on takin’ it.”

Her face lit up. Jack could be illustrating for the papers, a job that would pay much more than hawking them. “Really?”

“Dunno how I’m gonna take it, though,” he added. “How’s it work? What, do I just walk in or somethin’ an’ tell ‘em I want the job?”

“I can arrange an interview for you,” she replied. A chill went down his spine. “I gotta talk to folks like them?”

Katherine put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be fine,” she gently said. “They know an artist when they see one. And don’t worry, they’re not gonna be super harsh.”

“Here’s to hopin’.” Jack sighed, seeing his paper plane finally hit a far-off wall and fall to the ground. They were quiet for a moment. He blinked, finding the courage to ask her something he’d been meaning to, for a while.

“Why me?” he asked.

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

He repeated the question, but she only gave him a confused look. He decided to rephrase. “Why do you hang around with me?”

“What do you mean “why”?”

“Why?” Jack repeated a third time. “Why me? You got lots’a other guys to choose from, they’s probably better than I’ll ever be. This kinda thing, it’s just- it’s never happened before.”

Katherine paused, giving him a tender look. “It hasn’t,” she began. “Even I’m surprised, to be honest. But, you know why. You were one of the first- only people to believe in me. And that means something. Not a lot of guys are like you, Jack.”

It was true. The strike gave them something to fight for that was much bigger than themselves. What only started as an effort to lower the price of newspapers gave light to the importance of the rights of New York’s working kids. And, in the midst of the whirlwind, they found each other. Just two kids fighting for what they believed in.

They didn’t say it, but a familiar, warm feeling began to form in their chests. It was there, in the wind that rushed past them, in the way they simply stood together, in the way he slowly reached to lace his fingers with hers. And it was there in their silence; though there wasn’t much to say, as young as they were, they understood.

Jack kissed her on the forehead and pulled her into a slightly swaying embrace. “For sure?” he whispered into her hair.

“For sure,” she mumbled into his chest. Her mind calmed while she listened to the beating of his heart.

“Your father ain’t too happy with us bein’ here.”

“He isn’t.”

“Does he know I climb the fire escape after work to see ya?”

“He does.”

“Good.”

They softly laughed. He wished things could stay like this forever. So did she.

Jack pulled away and held her hand. He picked up a bundle of newspapers and shoved them into his back pocket. “Let’s get you back ‘fore he sends the Bulls after me.”

Katherine chuckled. They went the same way they came, the city below growing louder and louder around them with every step. She’d almost forgotten how noisy these streets actually were. She was fine walking herself back to the World, despite Jack’s insistence to take her there. With a kiss and a wave goodbye, the two went their separate ways.

As soon as Jack rounded a corner, he exhaled deeply. He leaned on the brick wall and ran a hand through his hair, a smile creeping on his face. It felt like a dream; he managed to score a date, and with a girl like her. He wished she could’ve stayed longer, but at least he had those sketches he made of her.

But then, his eyes widened.

They weren’t there.

Meanwhile elsewhere, Katherine hadn’t gone too far away when she stopped, stepping on a newspaper airplane. And unfolding it, she couldn’t hold in her smile.

#newsies #newsies forever #newsies fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #first date fluff #jatherine #jack kelly x katherine plumber #jack kelly #katherine plumber #katherine newsies #davey jacobs #crutchie Morris #writers on ao3 #writers on tumblr #plootosart

[simplysoriya]

To Have Waited So Long...

{Following Vale of Eternal Nightmare Pt.2 &  Qwor wgah za kaaxth }

The sun dipped below soaring peaks; unbothered by the conflict that raged below it, perhaps the only thing that remained untouched. A month had passed since the Black Empire had come to the Vale, sewing chaos and corruption in their wake. Long days had turned to long weeks, run ragged by the ever growing demands of defending a place that was so close to her heart. It was the reason she persisted so in the face of such evil. Conflict was nothing new to her. 

She was there when the heart of an Old One ravaged the minds of the Horde and destroyed the terrace under the Seat of Knowledge in its wake. She fought against the Sha that preceded Garrosh. Even just a few years ago, against her father's wishes, she fought against the Legion that invaded- unable to forgive the destruction of the Peak of Serenity.

Vivid nightmares had littered her dreams since it had started. Scaring her awake even when her body demanded sleep. The first night she heard about the Vale she had dreamt it, and that had come to pass. The second nightmare, however, the one that delved into her personal life and twisted the image of a woman she held dear had yet to materialize. Left only with the empty dull pain in the center of her chest where Kat had stuck a dagger before she snapped awake, nagging at her despite the lack of a tangible wound, reminding her every day of the haunting vision.

As the sun set over those tall peaks Soriya found herself wandering the grounds of her Nightmare much like an unspoken ritual. Searching for the raven haired woman she had grown so accustomed to. Mustering all the hope she could that it was no prophecy, that the dream was wrong, that it was just a trick to throw her off guard, or to manipulate her. At worst a trap set by the voices that haunted her as she slept. 

But despite it all she had to be sure…

Faceless terrors that lurked the Tu Shen grounds, or the acolytes of N’zoth stealing the souls of the Pandarian, just like that had in her dreams. The living Pandarian who were locked in cages,  the terrible obelisks and shrines that had cropped up every time Ny’alotha broached the veil into their world, she had encountered them every night in the past week, disrupting their rituals and dispatching their forces as she went along. Searching for a different brand of heartache. 

The scene she happened on as she walked up the hill that night was like no other; a massacre had befallen the Burial Grounds of Tu Shen. 

Bodies were scattered and strewn around the grassy outcrop decorated with stone steps. Immediately catching her horrified gaze was the monstrous faceless beast- the only thing capable of such a thing, so she thought- lay lifeless on the ground. Her jaw agape as she slowly scanned over the faces of N’zoths minions and Pandarian alike under shattered structures of the Black Empire.

The metallic scent of blood and fresh bile assaulted her nostrils first. Soriya covered her mouth and nose to ward off the stench and hide her grotesque expression. Her forehead wrinkling and ears drooping as a pained expression played out on her eyes as she took in the picture of bodies torn in two. Indiscriminate of their allegiance, Black Empire minions, Pandarian monks, and a Faceless beast lay strewn across the outcropping she happened upon.

Rushing forward toward the fallen Pandaren first, the monk got to her knees before their disfigured bodies under broken cages, to help with any healing spell she knew as they lay motionless, mangled, only to find it all for naught as they were too far gone. 

“Rest now...” She muttered in a sad tone to the dead warrior before her as she placed a hand on her fellow monks chest. 

“I’ll come back for. I’ll give you a proper burial, I promise..” the gentle vow left her lips in both a seldom and sorrowful exchange, as she took an extra moment to mourn the dead.

With a heavy heart Soriya glanced over her shoulder to the grizzly scene wondering what terrible thing had befallen this ancient place. Finally rising to her feet she took stock, only to find a lone shadowy figure standing over a nearby shrine. Draped and dressed in dark leathers the figure stood with it’s back turned, assailing the golden spirit of a fallen Pandarian.

“Hey!” She shouted as she jogged toward the stranger. Her pace hastening as she noticed the golden spirit of an ancient Pandaren yell in agony, a sight she was unfortunately all too familiar with.

The monk's shouting from behind drew her attention, head shifting just a bit towards the shoulder and coming to a hesitant halt with the recognized voice. She stood still for a moment, the raven hair still cascaded to block her visage.

“Hey!!” She repeated in an angrier tone, closer now to the leather clad figure, “What do you think you’re doing?!”

It wasn't until the second before their bodies collided that Soriya recognized just who she was assailing. 

Her face contorted, going pale at the realization. Anger quickly turned to shock, and then to grief, before finally twisting into fear. She wanted to stop, to halt her advance, even just a second to process the litany of emotions that came with the worst of her nightmares coming true.... 

That moment was never granted as she slammed into the ground along with the same woman that had featured as the subject of her last nightmare; Kat Hawke.

Kat snarled and bared teeth as the full tackle connected, riding it out to the ground beneath the monk with a heavy thud against the stone. 

Even if Soriya had landed on top she made no attempt to restrain the woman beneath her. Paralyzed by the sinking feeling in the pits of her stomach, all she could do was lift her head enough to confirm her fears with nothing but a slack jawed stare as their eyes locked and black, lifeless eyes, stared back at her teal hues. 

"No.." Soriya whispered in a low tone, skittering her trembling hands along the rogues frame, once again trying to discern if she was real.

"No.." She denied louder, again, pushing herself from the other woman to sit up on her own. 

"No-, no no.. Kat.. no..." sitting on her shins with the look of disbelief and, strangely, of confirmation, "This isn't supposed to be real..."

The nightmare that had plagued her for the last seven days had come to fruition. Her heart felt as heavy as lead, cracking and breaking against the sinking realization that her vision had a touch of prophecy behind it, dark and twisted as it may be, it had come true...

Kat shuffled a few paces back on her hands and feet like a crab walking across the sand. Her blackened gaze met the monk as she pushed herself to her feet. Silent still, she just stood and stared down at the elven woman.

The moment felt like forever to Soriya, still stuck in the silence of vacant stares, where an already worn. An overactive mind was left to seize upon its worst thoughts. Left only to gaze at Kat's corrupted visage with the same horrified look she wore a moment ago as she stood before a massacre of mangled bodies. 

Finally she let out a whimper as the walls came crashing down and emotion overtook her sense. 

The stinging pain in the center of Soriyas chest returned. Looking down only to find her hand already tightly clutched against the very spot on her chest she had been stabbed in her nightmare. Unsure how or when that hand had gotten there. Removing it quickly she tried to dismiss the notion that this is how it would end. That her dream somehow foresaw how the woman before her, corrupted as she was, stabbing her in the chest on these very grounds. 

Looking back to Kat, Soriya dared to ask,  "W-what...What happened to you?" with a voice that never reached above a shaky whisper. Tentatively with her hand she tried to make contact with the rogue.

Kat's head jerked back and to the side, avoiding the touch of the monk while the void addled gaze remained pinned to the woman. A single step back was taken as her posture straightened, the bridge of her nose wrinkling before an answer was finally given, "Ya' canno' fight th' inevitable, Soriya." Monotone she spoke, lifting her head ever so slightly.

The elf shrunk away as her hand caught nothing but air, Kat's words sent her further into the pits of despair. She sat there alone, deflated and defeated. None of the chipper demeanor she loved to show, like a badge of courage in a broken world. Tears freely began to trickle down her cheek from those wide, sorrow-filled, teal eyes.

You can not save them... The tagline of the omnipotent being that infested her nightmares played in her head on repeat as she stared at the ground. Finally fully understanding the statement that starred in her nightmare. The worst of them being realized in that single line uttered; Ya’ canno’ fight th’ inevitable, Soriya.

Defiantly, Soriyas gaze snapped back to Kat as she scrambled away from the other woman and to her feet, "No." She said wiping the tears from her eyes, "This isn't you. This isn't...-" The words she searched for caught in her throat as her gaze flicked toward the Pandarian burial mound as anger flashed on her youthful features. "How is this inevitable?! What does that even mean! You're better then this! You're-..." her steam wore down as grief once again rocked her.

"Look aroun' ya'!" Kat shouted, sounding impatient. Arms gesturing to either side at the eyes and maws which had sprouted from the mountains. "Nothin' can halt the comin' age. Resistance is pointless, nothin' more than a thorn in the destinies' side." Spite laced her tone in the final few words.

Soriya didn't need to look around. She didn't need to see the terror that surrounded them, the same nightmare she had been immersed in for months. Instead her gaze remained solely on the rogue. "And you'd rather be part of the problem rather than the solution?!" her retort had found its own fire in rebuke.

"You would rather defile the graves of the Pandarian?” Soriya continued, “The same ones that are fighting- once again- in their home. You'd rather live in a world where these ‘things’ roam free?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Closing the gap Soriya swiftly gripped Kat's shoulders. "Kat... just... please. Please come with me. Let me help you through this." She pleaded, despite the obvious anger underlying her words.

Raven brows pushed together, as if the Director was confused by either Soriya's actions or words. Perhaps even both. "Their souls are already forfeit!" Her arms lifted between Sori's, spinning to break the hands from her shoulders before jutting outward to shove the elf away.

The monk refused to be moved, stubbornly planting herself in the ground against the shove. Lifting her hands to her center as if trying to defend herself. As much as she wanted to help, as much as she wanted to take Kat away and talk to her, she couldn't deny the clear fear that had caused her to instinctively keep up defensively. 

"This is the solution, salvation in acceptance. Yer eyes are still blind, ya've yet t'see the truth." Her left hand coalesced with void. "Open yer eyes, Soriya, and see wot will come t'pass." As threatening as Kat may seem she still refused to attack.

"You're not one of them! You're not a monster...!" An arm shot out to her side, as if motioning to the monsters of the Vale. "Kat, please... Please. This doesn't have to turn out like my dream. I don't want to fight you." She pleaded as her voice progressively got smaller and smaller. Pathetically repeating, "Please." in an almost incoherent babble, "I can't let you do this. Just... please..."

"I've always been a monster!" The void laced hand pointed a single finger in the monk's face as she exclaimed. Something about that single sentence, her tone, sounded as if it was coming from deep within. Beyond the void and the magic, but something Kat fully believed herself. That she was, and always has been, a monster.

"So don't fight." The hand dropped, arms lifting half way to either side as the Director began to take several steps back, as if taunting the monk as she attempted to slip away. "Give up, leave this place to its fate. We are all nothin' but pawns in a larger game, Soriya. Don' be naive."

Soriya once again shrunk back as Kat made her stinging, convincing speech. "No." She replied in a whisper denying it all with such a simple word.

"I'm not naive. I'm not fucking stupid, Kat. I know you... I know you're not like this. That this is just some stupid corruption messing with you head. This isn't the woman I met up with every month since last spring just to spend a few hours with-... this isn't you." Confident words came in a broken and strained throat that teetered on the verge of full blown tears. Abruptly the monk lurched forward, both arms wrapping around the others upper torso, arms and all, to pull Kat into a tight embrace. "If you want to get rid of me you're going to have to stab me or something... I'm not letting go." She whispered into the others ear.

Kat's visage remained a stonewall void of emotion as her slow retreat came to an sudden halt as Soriya quickly closed the distance and wrapped herself around her. Hands attempted to pry the elf off of her, but the woman's vice like grip proved resilient. Her failed attempts at freedom freezing as the whisper hit her ear, buying a solid second or two of stillness before she spoke up in her own ice cold whisper. "Fine."

For the briefest second, she thought Kat had conceded, that it was over, that there wouldn’t have to be a fight….

Metal against leather sounded as a knife was pulled from the Director's waist.

Tear stained eyes went wide as she felt the sharp pain enter her gut. The twist adding another jolt of agony, so much so that she couldn't decide what hurt worse; the physical or the metaphorical knife that turned within her belly, held only by a woman she called a close friend.

In the moment Kat would push away again  leaving the knife embedded in the monk.

Soriya refused to untether at first, stubbornly clinging to the Director even as her strength began to fail her and the pain continued to worsen. With her best intentions she was still pushed away. Her arms lazily falling from Kat to wrap around the protruding hilt of the dagger, grasping onto it and turning the hilt as blades sharpness ravaged her once more in its removal.

The dagger hit the soft ground with a thud as the monk took in a labored series of breathes, calling out, "If you want me to stop you're going to have to kill me." Soriya escalated. "I...I wont. I'm not going to just... just leave you here! You're going to have to kill me Kat, because if you don't? If you don't I'm going to devote every waking moment to fucking up whatever plan you have for this place."  Even while she advanced, only a half step behind the Director herself, in that pained wobble, Soriya continued. One hand clutching the incision as the other found the cork of a waterskin tethered to her belt.

"My plan?" Kat chuckled out, amused at the fact Soriya thought it was the Vale in which her intentions lied. "Fight if ya' must, Soriya. But nothing ya' do will change wot will come t'pass."

During their exchange Soriya had busied herself with that vessel of life giving water, pouring it out onto her open wound as her bloodied hand cupped as much of the diluted crimson mixture as it could, applying the gentle white light of chi mingled with dull jade. Sloppily that incision began to pull itself closed, leaving behind a grotesque and raw sore that looked as if it was about ready to pop open once more. 

"Death will come fer ya' just as it did the monks behind ya'. Split open by the servants of N'zoth." The Director barked.

"Is that who you serve now?" The monk had spat back in a thinly veiled attempt to goad her further. "The high and mighty Kat Hawke reduced to a faceless servant? That's how you want to be remembered?" Closing the gap that Kat perpetually put between them, again, the Sin'dorei wouldn't be denied. "I don't want to fight you, Kat, but you need help. You need....-" me snagged against the lump in her throat as she wished it could have been. "You're sick."

"Wot do I need?" Kat instantly snapped back, skipping over everything else that had been said. "You?"

Another puncture came for her already perforated heart as Kat honed in on the word she failed to say.

"If you wont go with me willingly..." Soriya cocked back a fist as she entered into a fighting stance, her legs wide and planted as her second hand came to defend her injury with a folded elbow. 

"I'm no' some fuckin' pet project that needs savin'!" Lashing out as fists rose and shoulders squared, feet shifting into place as she stared the monk down.

Soriya cocked and arm back for a punch, her leg swept backward quickly and subtly, and just as it seemed like she were to throw her balled fist, it only continued back- her leg coming out instead in a sweeping strike of a kick aimed at Kat's midsection. Feigned, but fairly televised and she knew it as well as the other woman likely did.

Reflexes hastened by the void that pulsed through Kats very core aided in the counter, hand snapping downward to the leg which stroke, grasping at the ankle as it collided with her side and taking the momentum into a full body pivot. 

Agilely the elf bounced on her one leg as it was ensnared, keeping limber for the inevitable twist that came with it. That twist coming in the form of an elbow to the back of her standing knee.

Soriya, however, wasn't down long as she took the counter in stride, falling to the patchy grass below with her elbow out to catch her. Just like her opponent had done and using the momentum as an advantage  repaid in kind. With a quick twist of her hips that was leveraged against her newly planted elbow, she sent a powerful foot that took advantage of her longer legs sending the curve of her ankle toward the Directors head. 

The upward kick was predictable, the speed at which it came had not been. A split second to make a decision, not enough to effectively grapple and counter, Kat chose to simply evade. Releasing her hold on the monk as she ducked backwards away from the foot which came a hair from her nose in passing.

As Soriya swiftly recovered back to her feet and regained her stance, she couldn't help but retort, "I wish it could be me, Kat... I really do-” Her words genuine despite the intense exchange. Begrudgingly admitting, “But we both know you won't let me close enough to actually help."  

"Even if you need it. I can find someone to help you, even if it's not me. I can at least do that. Even if you hate me for it." The mixture of determination and desperation made it hard to determine just where her mindset was. Squaring off her stance she inched forward toward her opponent with a flickering, decidedly, with a sense of determination.

Quick to get back on the offensive Kat juggled her weight between legs, digging into that boxer's stance. Anger clear on her face. Refusing to dignify the monks words with a response of her own the Director made her strike. A heavy left hook jutted outward, rolling the shoulder with the attack but feigning at the last second. Instead the leather clad fist on her right snapped outward like a spring, aimed still at the jawline.

Soriya found relief in the attack, as it meant Kat wanted to hit her more then run, now, at the least.

It was unlike fighting an enemy, the pair who had enjoyed long spars, often pushing one another to get better. And while the deadly undertones weren't lost on her? Soriya still found herself comfortably slipping into an easy flow with her movements. Tensing and tightening in anticipation as the leather clad rogue skulked forward with deft and deflective movements. She knew to wait, to keep her guard close and to not over extend- because that was exactly the thing Kat would be looking for.

But this was no spar, this was no playful rump in a forest with a friend. She knew she had to change it up, to surprise her opponent- losing wasn't an option.

Preemptively Soriya sent a probing kick, quick and light, toward the Directors inner shin as her opponent advanced with a fist cocked back in a feigning swing. Just enough to throw the other womans footwork off balance. The second swing from Kat came, and her close guard was rewarded with a block to the haymaker within the padded side of her forearm. 

Wasting no time Soriya took advantage of the closer distance and blocked attack, capitalizing before her opponent could, she launched her own counter; pulling back her arm before pushing it forward again toward the rogues center mass. Her training with chi empowered strikes allowed her to use a shorter distance for effective blows, and with that knowledge, she sent another two punches with alternating fists, working their way up Kat's torso, lightening quick in their inception, as the telltale glow of chi coated the punishing blows. A move her opponent wouldn't be familiar with from their spars.

With each of the chi infused hits making contact Kat staggered back with a hand over the chest where Soriya's fists connected. 

There were no snickers, no smiles, or cute quips after Soriya had scored her blows. That carefree demeanor, perhaps her most defining feature of her personality, completely melted away as she maintained a serene sense of focus on the fight at hand. Resetting her stance once more to that of the Serpent, comfortable in having to wait for an attack rather than launching it, she kept her eyes pinned on the Directors movements. Waiting for her next strike.

Kats left hand, still charred and burnt, rose above her head as a large step forward was taken. Shadows sparked from the palm as coiled outward in a series of chains. Wielded like a whip as the arm swung around, a harsh downward cut off as it changed direction to slice to the side with an abrupt upward cut to ensnare the neck. The length of the chain combined with the flowing motion made it easy to lose track of.

The visible look of surprise played across the elfs creased brows as she stared at the intimidating display with only the slightest sense of awe. Unaware that Kat could even manipulate magic to that degree. But surprise was quickly shaken off as she sidestepped and ducked the swinging chain that drifted too close to her for comfort. The downward slash was avoided narrowly with a hasty pivot, throwing her off guard as it rapidly shifted direction with precise aim. 

Unaccustomed to the unpredictable weapon, Soriya brazenly lifted her arm up to cover her face from the chain that threatened to smash it. Caught unaware, as that chain slapped against the side of her neck, snagging her forearm too, along with its snare. With gritted teeth she struggled as the metallic grip threatened to strangle her regardless of what got in the way.

With a forceful downward tug accompanied by a pivot of the hips with a leg reach back, Kat yanked the chain tight. Whether or not Soriya toppled to the ground didn't matter for what came next; a strong pulse of void magic across the shadowy chain. Kat staring on from where she stood, eyes still widened in rage as her fist clenched the chain with power.

Between the tug and the awkward tether of her wrist that bent an arm half a foot from her neck, Soriya buckled under the pressure down to a knee, still struggling against the weight of the assault. It left her defenseless as the shock of void energy made it up the three tiers of chain that coiled around her, forcing out a prolonged grunt from behind clenched teeth. Eventually ringing out into a pained yelp as the energies stung at her like black ice pressed against exposed skin. 

Soriya managed to look up briefly only to see the rogue brandishing a dagger menacingly before her eyes snapped shut in agony.

In a display of sheer strength, or perhaps stupidity, Soriya used her free hand to grasp further onto the chain, warding off the pain momentarily to steady her grip and put her own might against Kats.

Kat's gaze narrowed harshly on Soriya as she writhed in pain, the corner of her lips pulling it a sadistic grin. Even as the monk grabbed the chain Kat didn't give any ground, channeling the dark energy as she stared.

From her crouched position, the monk took in one deep and filling breath before leaping up into the air, dazzling with a triple spin from just the ground as she unwound herself from the chain. Despite the fast and undoubtedly dizzying twirl, Soriya fell down toward the ground with her head and shoulders poised to crash first- and her position made a recovery unlikely. But in that fall the monk once again stunned with a precise kick to the end of the chain- sending the tip of it back toward the rogues dagger wielding hand with the intent to disarm.

Though despite the uncanny display of acrobatic martial arts, she still landed harshly, awkwardly, and unceremoniously against the dirt below. Her head hit particularly hard. Paying for her flashing move as she lay on the dirt an extra moment longer, dazed from her own stunt. Remaining on the ground longer than a moment, even after she blinked herself back from her daze long enough to roll herself onto her stomach. 

A deep chuckle began to rumble from the Director after she observed the monk's harsh landing. Followed only by the eerie clanking and rattling of metal on stone faint, but ever present.

The telltale clinks of the shadowy metal links against stone and grass was quickly recognized. Soriya knew she had to do something about the surprise Kat had pulled. A weapon that allowed her to keep distance, entrap, and punish her from afar. Once again cursed by her own ill preparation she found herself without a suitable weapon to fight back.

As Kat drew near, Soriya remained, waiting for the Director to get closer to her prone position as she continued to take a moment to recover. But more importantly to close the distance between the two in the least overt manner she could. Counting on her opponents over confidence and, at times, arrogance that led to letting her guard down- hoping that the other woman would take the opportunity to get close and personal to savor that gained up hand. Playing the bait if it meant gaining the advantage.

The sinister chuckle rolled off in a tone of pleasure as Kat continued to move closer step by step, looking down at Soriya. The dagger turning over in her hand in conjunction with her steps, let the chain drag out further to make more noise.

But then it all suddenly stopped with Kat still several paces from the monk, the pleased tone instantly replaced by a high pitched scream of pain. The area lit up as the right side of Kat's body pulsed with Light, making her stagger as the shadow chain evaporated. The left side remained covered in void as the right side of her visage splintered and cracked with Light. The volatile mixture looked as if it could explode out from her very core.

As Kats sinister visage was rocked with Light energy, Soriya had rolled to her back unwittingly catching the rogue in a moment of weakness. Her hands shaped as if she was holding a ball at her chest as she concentrated, focusing her chi energy into a single point between her palms and growing it exponentially with her own life force- Soriya swiftly sent the blast of pure force toward her attackers chest.

Painfully waiting out the moment Kat swung the blade through the air to collide with the chi. The flash of light that came as the conflicting powers mingled and exploded in their fervor was enough to make Soriya shield her eyes. Whatever was happening, it was a far cry away from what she had hoped. In the confusion she looked, locking eyes with Kat one final time with that very same look of hopelessness she wore before they had started fighting. A sadness that lingered within her gaze.

The resulting explosion sent a hail of stones down before larger pieces of jagged, broken earth rained down from the cliff that absorbed and crumbled against the blast. Separating the pair from one another as the rocky cliffside broke apart and slid down between them.

Left with no time to linger as the rocks flung from above threatened to crush her, Soriya got to her feet quickly only to find the  before fleeing the scene with a heavy heart.

A hand came to her side once she was safe and clear, gripping at a nagging pain that had only grown after the dust settled. Feeling nothing but warmth and wetness that caused her to draw back that hand to find both palm and fingers slicked with crimson. The stab wound Kat had gifted her with reopened and freely flowing blood almost certainly to scar her skin just as much as it did her heart.

Desperately she wished to wake up. That it had all just been another bad dream in a string of them. That it was just the voices that had taken purchase of her thoughts and scarred her dreams. But all the way back to the Shrine of Two Moons, she never awoke.

{Written alongside @kat-hawke } {With Kats perspective of this same scene: Uovssh thyzz...}

#fitness & finesse #loooooong post #RP #Canon

[jane-fucking-seymour]

LEGEND OF THE SIX Chapter 16: Reunion

Words: 3,702

AO3 Link

Anne runs for most of the night.

She’s well past her target - Hidden Gem, near that area - but she keeps running. She moves through trees, through the forest mostly untouched by humans, through the various smaller villages, through major cities and so much more. 

She doesn’t want to stop.

She doesn’t want to face what’s happened.

Instead, she heads straight towards Capitol.

She knows the castle and the surrounding areas inside and out - she knows of the passageways, the sewers, the black market and the outlaw havens that run through the network of tunnels and pipes under the city. She knows exactly where to go as she enters, her cloak over her face to hide her identity.

She’s done this many times before, but never with so much purpose.

She ends up in the courtyard of the castle, late at night. She watches the guards make their rounds - it hasn’t changed since she’s left, she notices - and she eventually has enough courage to look up at where her room used to be.

She assumes it must be Jane’s. 

She turns out to be correct… and as a bonus, Jane is there, fast asleep.

Anne watches her for a few minutes - trying to figure out what to do. She’s come this far, she could instantly repay Jane for what she did to Katherine, but… 

… no. This is too easy.

She throws a dagger on the ground, as far away from the window and towards the wall as she can make it. It clangs noisily, making Jane wake up with a start. She looks over at it, goes towards it, and unknowingly gives Anne the time she needs to cross the room and spin the cleric around, putting a knife to the girl’s throat.

Jane tenses.

“I didn’t expect you all here so soon.”

Anne narrows her eyes. “They’re not here. I came alone.”

Jane looks back. “You’re alone? That’s foolish.”

“If I was planning to return, yeah.”

“What about Kat-”

“She’s dead.”

Jane is shocked.

“That’s… that’s impossible, she’s-”

Suddenly, she barreled into the wall, a dagger held to her throat.

Jane lifts her head up, stone faced.

“Is this what you’re planning, then? Revenge?” Jane asks, raising an eyebrow. “Katherine shouldn’t have died. There’s no way my magicks did that-”

“Catherine performed the Final Mercy because of how far gone Katherine was,” Anne growls out.

Jane looks… relieved.

“Good on her.”

Anne’s eyes go wide with shock for a moment at what was said, then she presses the blade further into Jane’s neck. It’s drawn some blood, but nothing major.

“I’m going to kill you,” Anne says.

“Then do it,” Jane replies.

A moment.

Another.

Nothing.

Jane nods as much as she can, wincing at the pain in her throat that it brings.

“You can’t, because you know Katherine wouldn’t want you to.”

“You shut up!”

“She wouldn’t have wanted you to give into revenge, which is why Catherine wasn’t killed at first look, right? Because you were afraid of what Katherine would have said.”

“You don’t get to say her name!”

“She’s gone, but she’s still with you. I know she is-”

“Enough!”

The yell is enough to signal a response from the guard outside - he’s knocking on the door, asking if Jane’s alright.

“I’m fine,” Jane replies, not looking away from Anne. “Don’t worry about me, Sir.”

With a “yes, my lady,” he walks back to his post.

They’re both silent for a moment, the moonlight illuminating the scene and shining off the blade held to Jane’s throat.

“Are you going to do anything, Anne?” Jane asks, fairly kindly considering the current situation. “Or are you going to help the others take over the Realm? Can’t do that if I’m dead.”

“Oh?” Anne asks, raising an eyebrow. “And why in the world-”

“Maggie’s back. But she’s Mary’s now.”

Anne stares.

“You’re lying.”

“She’s been taken out of slumber and she’s been charmed to help her capture Elizabeth,” Jane says simply. “She sent a letter to Elizabeth, saying that she should activate some coin or whatever to summon you. It’ll summon Mary instead, and Elizabeth will be executed on the spot by Mary.”

Anne’s eyes go wide, the blade dropping slightly from where it was positioned. “What?”

“I’m telling you this,” Jane says quietly, calmly, “because Elizabeth needs your help. She needs her mum, Anne, and I don’t think you’ll fail her. Keep me alive, and I’ll ensure her safety on my side.”

Jane slowly but surely takes out a coin.

“This will lead you to her. Maggie has a coin just like it. That one will release Elizabeth from the trap.”

Anne takes it.

“She needs you, you know that. Mary… she’s definitely not a Blessed and she’s definitely not in the right mind.”

Anne looks down in thought, so Jane continues.

“I swear, Anne, I’m still on your side. I want Henry gone as much as-”

She stops when, once again, Anne holds the blade to her throat. “You don’t deserve to go into that good night alone, with no one watching.” Anne growls, her tone dark and warning. “I want them to watch - everyone. Joan, Henry, the people… but most importantly? Your precious little Eddie. I want him to know that his mother was cut down by me. I want him to scream for you, to scream for me to stop, and I want him to know that it’s useless. That he can’t stop this. And that he is next.”

Jane is shaking, eyes wide, tears falling as fast as they form. “Anne-”

“You can’t save yourself or him from this, Jane,” Anne says, as if talking to a toddler that’s made an amusing mistake. “No one can. You’ll die by my blade, and they will watch. “

She releases Jane then, who falls to her knees, sobbing.

“She was never supposed to die, Anne, I swear-”

“Save it for someone who cares… or when you’re on the block. Whatever, doesn’t overly matter to me.”

Anne moves towards the window.

“When we take back this city, when we take back the Realm… you’ll be sorry then.”

She leaves without another word.

Dashing through the city, once again remaining undetected as she escapes, just in time for the guards to be put on alert - presumably by Jane, she realizes with a huff - she exits and escapes, headed back towards Hidden Gem.

When she gets there, she slows down, catching her breath, looking up at the moonlit sky as she does so.

“The only reason why she’s still alive is because of you, Kit.” 

She watches the sky for a moment, tears starting to form, but she holds it back, looking down at the ground to get on with the task at hand. 

The coin that Jane gave her turns out to be right on the money: it grows hotter and hotter with each step she moves towards Elizabeth, only to break when she’s in eyeline of the girl in question. She’s got her eyes closed, as if she’s activating the coin, and Lyrena has taken a few steps back to keep guard.

“Elizabeth!” Anne yells, quick to move towards her, trying to get her to stop.

Elizabeth’s eyes open then, looking surprised. “Mum? I-”

But then, she gasps.

The coin in her hands chills and, suddenly, Elizabeth is frozen in time. Lyrena holds out her hand and two portals appear, out of which two people arrive: Mary and...

“Maggie.”

Maggie looks absolutely livid at her former mistress, hands on her knives already.

“Well done, Lyrena-” Mary starts, but when she sees that they’ve got company, raises an eyebrow. “You found us so quickly? I’m… surprised.”

“What did you do to Liz?”

“What we should have done weeks ago, when we suspected fowl play with her use of Jane,” Mary replies. “She’s a traitor to the crown. She’ll die as one.”

“You damn well wish-” Anne starts, but she’s quick to block the dagger thrown in her direction by Maggie.

“Don’t be so hasty, Face-Stealer,” Mary growls out. “Or I’ll make sure Maggie takes you down.”

“You don’t honestly believe the Face-Stealing thing, do you?” Anne asks, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously? Are you that idiotic?”

“Quiet!” Maggie yells, and Anne does, if only to continue to glare at the other two.

“What do we want to do with her?” Lyrena asks.

“Kill her if possible, two birds with one stone,” Mary resigns with a sigh.

“Or,” Anne says, “Little Maria here can go find her former mistress.”

“Catherine- the Face-Stealer’s around?” Lyrena asks.

“She’s headed to the Sanctuary. The still-intact one. I’m sure you know where it is, as a squire to a Blessed, right?” Anne shrugs. “If you don’t go, and if she’s really a Face-Stealer,” Anne says that with sarcasm dripping from her tone, “then they’re going to need some help, right?”

“Damn you-” Lyrena growls out, but Mary holds up a hand.

“If she’s poisoning other Sanctuary’s, that’s a problem. We as part of the Blesseds are bound to protect Sanctuaries,” Mary replies, rattling off what she knows is - was? - her duty. 

Lyrena looks over. “With all due respect, Mary, I don’t think that’s your duty anymore.”

Mary almost struck the girl down then and there… but held off. Barely.

“It’s our duty to, regardless of the politics of the age, you know it as well as I do,” Mary replies.

Lyrena narrows her eyes at Mary, but looks over at the frozen Elizabeth in thought. “If that’s really where she is… then I’ll need to find her. For the good of the Realm, and for the Blesseds.”

“Go.” Mary says, and instantly Lyrena takes her leave. Mary then looks at Maggie. “I leave her to you. If she’s here, then the others must be around.”

“Of course, my Lady,” Maggie says with a nod, taking out her daggers.

Mary starts to leave, but Anne pursues.

“Hey! Get back here-” Anne starts, but she dodges four fireballs from Maggie.

She stops, looking over at Maggie. “What the hell?”

But then Anne sees the pink tinted in the girl’s eyes, and her heart sinks.

“Not you, too…”

“You’re not getting her,” Maggie growls out, two more weapons in her hands. “This ends now.”

Anne looks the girl over: there’s no way she could take on Mary and Maggie at once, not without some backup, anyways, and Elizabeth was currently frozen in time.

No, she’d have to leave Mary to someone else.

Anne narrows her eyes, getting into her stance.

“Come on!”

Maggie pulses forward, the two immediately locked in close combat. Anne takes on a backhanded dagger grip, allowing her to swipe and punch effectively, while Maggie retains a normal grasp on her knife. The knife is slightly longer than the dagger, allowing Maggie a slight range advantage that she continuously tries to abuse while in such close quarters.

They’re so fast that the normal eye couldn’t keep track of their movements: a kick, a dodge, a punch, a block, a throw. Anne ends up in the treeline, throwing a few throwing knives in Maggie’s general direction, missing wide on each one. Maggie, however, isn’t fooled: she gets out of the circle the knives have created on the ground, just barely dodging the explosion they made. 

They take their fight to the trees, a sort of diving fighting style being initiated by the two. Pulsing between trees, taking swipes mid-air, it’s an incredible display of finesse and dexterity between the two of them. Eventually, however, they meet in the middle as a stalemate, locking their blades against each other’s as they both end up on the ground again.

Anne watches Maggie closely - the girl is fighting with all she has, not holding back. 

As if she doesn’t know that she’s Anne, not that she thinks Anne is the enemy-

Wait.

“That’s it!”

With a smirk, Anne backs up, throwing everything she can towards the other woman, attacks increasing in intensity.

Maggie dodges, weaves, blocks, and deflects everything Anne throws at her. It’s then that Anne makes a mistake: a misstep against a root on the ground, causing her to tumble away.

Maggie instantly takes initiative and rushes forward, going for the kill…

… until Anne smirks and pulls on a string that Maggie hadn’t realized she was holding.

Suddenly, Maggie is ensnared in countless wires.

“What?!?” Maggie yells out, struggling against the strings, but Anne smiles.

“Old tricks,” Anne says with a wink; the weapons that Anne had thrown out were magickal, strings of energy attached to them, allowing Anne to activate them at exactly the right time to trip Maggie up (literally).

“Now that you’re staying still,” Anne says with a grin, putting a hand to the girl’s head. “Let’s hope you see the light now.”

Anne casts a small healing spell - something she learned from Jane, actually, though now she’ll never admit it - and suddenly, Maggie’s eyes go wide.

“... Annie?”

With a smile, Anne releases the girl from her bindings, catching her when she falls. 

“You’re pretty low on energy, aren’t you?” Anne asks gently.

“I… what’s happened? Where’s Mary, she was just here and-” Maggie winces, a hand on her side.

“Sorry, I think I got you a bit during our fight,” Anne says sympathetically. “You need to rest, love. I’ll explain later.”

“But-” Maggie starts, but Anne gently shakes her head, putting Maggie against the tree and draping her cloak over the girl. With the warmth from the night and the cloak together, Maggie eventually succumbs to rest.

Anne searches Maggie and, with a relieved smile, finds what she’s looking for: the coin that matched the one Elizabeth had. She stands, taking the coin and tossing it at the still-frozen Elizabeth… which allows the spell to break, and Elizabeth to fall to the ground. 

The younger woman catches her breath, looking around wildly before settling her gaze on her savior. “Mum?”

“Fell into a bit of a trap there, didn’t you, Lizzie?” Anne asks with a smile. “It’s alright, I got you out of it.”

“I… thank you,” Elizabeth nods, standing up and dusting herself off. “What’s happened?”

“Maggie’s been broken from the spell,” Anne replies. “Nothing too major.”

“Is she alright?” Elizabeth asks, moving to help heal the girl in question.

“It wasn’t the Mind Magicks from before,” Anne says simply. “It was illusion magicks. She didn’t…” Anne needed a moment to collect herself before she continued.

“It’s not what Jane did to Kat. It’s just an illusion spell.”

The relief in Anne’s voice is clearly understood.

“You’re compromised now, Lizzie,” Anne says quietly. “What do you want to do?”

“I guess my hand’s been forced, hasn’t it?” Elizabeth asks with a sigh. “I don’t have much to do now except, well… just play normally.” She kneels in front of her mother, bowing respectfully. “If you’ll have me, Anne Boleyn, Shadow Queen of the Realm, I’d like to be taken into your care.”

Anne raises an eyebrow.

“No.”

Elizabeth looks surprised by that, but then she sees Anne smile and lets her continue. 

“You’re headed to Weston,” Elizabeth says. “To help Cathy.” 

She gently puts down Maggie to take out parchment, writing a letter on it. 

“Bring this to Cathy, tell her you’re working with us for real now. She’ll know what to do. She’s trying to drum up a revolution over there.”

“To bring the people against the King?”

“To at least sow doubt.”

“Clever.”

“As usual.”

Anne picks up Maggie again, keeping her close as she looks over at Elizabeth. “Go fast, go safe, Liz.”

Elizabeth nods. “You can count on me, mum.”

With a final hug, Elizabeth heads off, pulsing away and towards Weston.

Anne closes her eyes, says a soft prayer, before moving back to where Maggie lay. She gently takes Maggie and picks her up bridal style, smiling when Maggie moves closer to Anne’s embrace.

“I doubt they expected me to be in good enough of a mind to keep you from harm, you know,” Anne says gently to her sleeping charge. “Henry didn’t ever have much faith in my temper.”

She chuckles when Maggie shivers.

“Cold, eh? We’ll get you warmed up at the hideout. Promise.”

And with that, Anne quickly teleports away, to the safety of the hideout, her closest friend and powerful new ally in tow.

When they arrive, Maggie is situated in Anne’s bed. The girl is still asleep, and Anne has every intention of keeping it that way.

She moves to leave the room, but then Katherine’s bed catches her eye; they were bunked in the same room, after all. Before yesterday, the sight had always brought Anne a sense of relief, of calm, of peace. Now, however, it did anything but.

She ends up back in the woods, back at the memorial. 48 hours ago - less than that, actually - Katherine was still alive. This time last week, she and Anne had been joking and playing around down here, exploring the area and training together.

Her world was shattered, again, only 48 hours ago.

It just doesn’t feel real.

It feels like it’s all gone too fast.

It feels like she is gone too fast.

Regardless, Anne sits down in front of the memorial, smiling brightly at the staff.

“Hey, Kitty,” Anne says gently. “I just… wanted to say hi. It must be lonely over here, all alone, while we’re off savin’ the world.”

She takes a deep breath.

“I saw Jane today. I didn’t kill her. I told you it then, too, but I just… I don’t think you would have wanted her dead.” Anne shrugs. “So, she lived. Because of you.”

Silence.

For a while.

Then she picks up again:

“Maggie’s safe, which is a relief. She’s resting upstairs, in my bed. Elizabeth is, too, though she’s kinda… been exposed. But at least she’ll be hanging out around here more often, if she passes Cathy’s tests.” Anne shrugs. “I imagine that Lyrena - Maria, whatever - will be in play soon, possibly Bessie and Avril if Anna has her way with it. And…”

Anne stops, thinking. Considering.

“... possibly Jane and Joan. Maybe.”

Anne sighs, leaning back and looking up at the sky.

“I want to kill her, what I said to her was absolutely sincere, but… well, I don’t think you’d want me to, Kit. I think you’d want me to help her, to upkeep our promise to her, that we would save her.” Anne shrugs. “I don’t know how you’ve been so strong for so long. I don’t think I would have the strength to just let her live without you in mind. I probably should have killed her.”

Silence. A beat.

“... yeah, I should have killed her.”

More silence. The warm winds pick up and flow around Anne. Anne sighs, running a hand down her face.

“I made the choice, though. Guess I’ll have to deal with it.”

She looks back at the memorial, a soft smile on her face.

“I miss you, Kit.”

She’s tearing up.

“I’m always going to miss you.”

The pain she feels is now visible on her face, and she can’t help the tears that start to fall. She tries to wipe them away, tries to stay strong and calm but… how can she? Everything’s gone wrong: Katherine is dead and Anne broke her promise to her. She only promised Kat two things: that they would be okay, and that the Realm would be saved.

She’s currently 0/1.

With a sigh, she looks shakily back up at the memorial.

“I won’t make it 0/2, Kit. I promise. We’re saving them all, and when it’s said and done, we’re gonna make sure you’re remembered. Not as the Charming Queen, not like that. You’re so much more than that.”

Anne stands up then, staring at the memorial.

“I love you, little Kit. I’ll talk to you soon.”

She heads back upstairs, heads back to Maggie, and waits until sunrise.

At first dawn, Maggie has started to stir.

She sits up slowly but surely, groaning in pain as she holds onto her head.

“That could have been a lot worse, Mags.”

Maggie looks over and, with an excited gasp, rushes to hold Anne tightly.

“Oh, by the Moon, I didn’t expect to see you again!” Maggie says, holding onto her mistress tightly. “I missed you, Anne. I’m… I’m so sorry, I-”

“It’s alright, Mags, don’t worry about it. That’s actually… way in the past.” Anne replies softly. When Maggie gives her a look, Anne continues. “What do you last remember?”

“Being brought into the Blight and Mary putting a hand on my head, why?”

“And before that?”

“Being condemned to eternity in the Blight.”

“It’s not been an eternity, at least. So hey, some good news.”

Maggie tilts her head. “What’s happening?”

“I’ll fill you in,” Anne promises. “And then, we’re going to need to prepare.”

“Prepare?” Maggie asks, moving to get up. Anne helps. “Prepare for what?”

Anne smirks.

“Something I’m calling… The Final War.”

#legend of the six #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfic #six the musical fanfic #six fanfiction #sixfic #jane seymour #anne boleyn #maggie #maggie liw #maria #maria liw #mary

[dayaray]

Who: Daya Ray and other miscellaneous characters What: A summary of Daya’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week Where: Unknown When: Friday, July 19 Warnings: Severe humiliation

She thought it couldn’t get any worse.

The week started with the blackout, the long trek from Bayview to the hospital with a sick Freddie on her back, cough rattling his little lungs painfully. It started with questions and barbs and feeling like she might throw up at any possible moment because all of the secrets she held inside her. 

Then there was Aidan. Her body found, not two blocks from the Seaside, in a way that she knew was intentional. She wondered if Marcelo had wanted Daya to be the one to find her. A clear reminder of the power he held, and more importantly, the lack of her own power. She remembered seeing flashing lights as she walked home that night, but that wasn’t an uncommon thing in Bayview. She simply kept her head down and continued walking. She only learned because she had settled into her small cot that was tucked behind a partition in the living room, and checked her phone as she fell asleep. 

An alert flashed across her scene, something that Kat had taught her to set up when the other girl had fortified her phone. A small program that searched for certain key words. Heart in her throat, she immediately sat up, tapping at her phone anxiously until the article popped up. Her body had grown cold, blood freezing in her veins like ice as she read the first five words. ‘Missing Police Officer Found Slain”. She knew in her gut that it was her, and she forgot what happened in the next three hours. Jakob had come out to start breakfast as he always did and found her in the same position, staring blankly ahead with her phone in her lap. 

That night had been a reminder of the secrets that were buried in her chest. How she had let her guard down and with every action that Henri took, was another nail in her coffin. It felt like her world was spinning out of control and no one seemed to realize. Like she was drowning and no one cared to help. 

Of course that wasn’t true, but she felt so paralyzed in guilt, knowing that had contributed to someone’s death. It shook her to her very core, waiting for the next shoe to drop at every turn. She felt foolish for thinking that maybe she could find her own brand of happiness, only to have it ripped away without a second thought. 

All because someone thought she was a possession to be had.

By Thursday, she was hanging by a thread, doing her best to keep pushing through. The small kindnesses that people had shown were appreciated, but were ultimately swallowed up in the sea of terror and self-loathing she had fallen into. Daya knew that Jakob was worried about her, and that the twins could tell something was wrong, even though she tried to muster a smile. Even that felt draining.

Of course all throughout the week, the Nameless had been making demands throughout the city. The blackouts now were mostly frustrating rather than scary, and the masked idiots largely ignored Bayview. She thought that maybe they would be in the clear after Friday, that people would finally figure out that it was simply easier to let them believe they had won so they could move on with their lives instead of being held hostage. 

After all, it couldn’t get any worse right?

Nine years on the job had taught Daya to be acutely aware of her surroundings, and to trust her instincts when something felt off. So when a cold tendril of uneasiness coiled in her stomach, she quietly reached for the mace in her bag as she walked toward the Seaside. The streets were largely empty at this hour, and the few transients that were usually set up in alleys and doorways were oddly missing, though that wasn’t entirely out of place.

She pushed forward, knowing the Seaside wasn’t too far off, and in a brief moment of perverse humor, she wondered whether Charlie would tell her I told you so for wearing those stupid ass heels. Someone grabbed at her arm, but she was ready, turning with the momentum and spraying the pepper spray towards her assailant. Even with the terrifying masks they wore, some of the chemicals got through, judging by the angered cry of pain and the backhand that cracked across her face. It sent her to the concrete, and Daya only had a second to look up before a boot came slamming down onto her temple. 

The next thing she knew, she was bound, gagged, and kneeling amidst a group of five others. While this position was something she was used to, it was far more terrifying when it wasn’t something she had consented to. Looking around, she glanced at the others who were with her, faces she mostly recognized. The announcements passed in a blur, and she was yanked up roughly, and spun to face Lex, who looked terrified, but also resigned to her fate, even as she begged Daya to just do as the Nameless asked.

How could Daya be complicit in this? Lex was one of the few friends she had, if they were actually that, and after the awful week they’d had, she couldn’t bring herself to pile on even more misery. There was a cold note of steel in her voice when she refused and one man pressed close, his voice distorted by the mask he wore. “Shoulda expected nothing less from a traitor whore,” he spat in her face. 

They strung her up beside Lex, and no one hesitated before advancing on them both. Slurs, taunts, and ridicules were all thrown at her as hands groped and pulled at her body. She didn’t look down at the things they were writing, almost certain that they were all words that had been said to her face at some point in her life. Someone scrawled the word ‘TRAITOR’ across her forehead, which she only saw by catching a glimpse of the broadcast behind them. All she could think about was praying that Jakob had the good sense not to watch, or to let Hanna and Freddie watch. 

Jeers and shouts echoed in Daya’s ears and she heard a familiar grunting noise as warm globs landed on her stomach. There were several exclamations of disgust, but no one moved to wipe it away, and only wrote around where the fluids were beginning to drip down her body. The only time she showed any expression at all was when someone produced a pair of rusty scissors and approached her, and a flash of fear went through her body as she cringed away. Strong hands shoved her back in place and held her down as the Nameless hacked away at her hair. Long strands fell away until she was left with a hackjob of a bob, choppy and uneven. 

It was at that point that she forced herself to disconnect from reality, in order to protect her fragile psyche. She silently endured the torment, not once begging or crying, only stone-faced as she stared at a spot on the wall above the screens. She couldn’t look, couldn’t think, and could only focus on breathing. When they were forced into the cages, metal scraped against her arms, leaving small cuts and she didn’t blink as food and water was slopped together on the ground in front of her.

It smelled awful, like it was rotten, and she simply curled up as far away as she could from it, even as the Nameless continued to taunt and jeer and throw food and water into the cage. Daya didn’t flinch as she was pulled out of the cage, though her legs were asleep from the cramped space and she nearly fell flat on her face until someone yanked her back so hard that she feared her arm would get pulled from its socket. They were marched to Manor Park, and Daya wasn't sure whether people were actually cheering as they walked by or if her imagination was filling in the blanks.

The end was almost anticlimactic in comparison to the week that she'd had. The police rushed in and chaos erupted once more, but Daya merely stayed put, even as the others were escorted away. It was almost fifteen minutes before someone seemed to realize she was still kneeling in the grass, staring blankly ahead. The ride to the NEPD was near silent, and at the very least, someone had wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. However her interrogation wasn't a pleasant experience. The harried detective was brusque, and it was clear that he wasn't sure if he believed Daya was a victim in this. She didn't have the energy to fight him, and simply responded to his questions to the best of her ability. He was dissatisfied by the lack of information, and kept her there well into the night, long after the others had been released. The only thing she could think about during the entire ordeal was that she was glad Aidan didn't see her like this. But it still didn't stop herself from wondering what it would have been like to have someone actually interested in her wellbeing, instead of leaving her to the mercy of chauvinistic men who knew exactly what she did for a living.

Almost 24 hours after she'd been first snatched off the streets, Daya was dumped back onto the street. One police officer had tried to tug the blanket from her shoulders and would have succeeded if another officer, a blonde woman, told him to knock it off. Daya simply ducked her head in thanks and walked outside. No one offered to give her a ride back to wherever she needed to go so she began the long walk back to Bayview. Her heels were long gone, but she was still riding the edge of adrenaline and dissociation.

It wasn't until she got back to the Seaside almost an hour later that the events of the day began to sink in. Her hands trembled as she tried to unlock the room that was effectively hers. Finally, she burst through the door and immediately slammed it shut behind her, flipping the deadbolt. The meager contents of her stomach emptied into the toilet and she rinsed her mouth in the tap. It took another ten minutes for Daya to muster enough courage to look at her body. Her fingers traced the words that littered her skin and she turned to turn the water on, as scalding hot as it could go.

She scrubbed for half an hour, until her skin was pink and raw from the heat and friction, but the marker stayed put stubbornly. The ones on her body were easily hidden with the proper clothing, but the bold block letters on her forehead would be present for several days yet. Her hair was a mess, strands all at different lengths but she didn't have the energy or money to fix it right now. So Daya turned away from the mirror and she pulled her phone from the bag of evidence that the police had shoved into her hands as she was escorted from the station. She ignored the clothes that had been cut from her body and she turned the device on.

A flood of messages and missed calls arrived all at once, mostly from Jakob in frantic worry, several from Leon, and a surprising amount from Cam. She wouldn't have thought that he cared so much. Daya quickly tapped out a message to Leon to tell him that she was fine, and then hovered over Jakob's number. A phone call wouldn't be helpful right now and Daya wasn't sure she could speak without breaking, and she couldn't put her baby brother through that. So instead she sent him a short message as well. "I'm fine. I'll be home in a few days. Don't tell the little ones."

Drained of all energy, Daya turned her phone off and laid down on the bed where she'd fucked so many clients. Another reminder of who she was. She couldn't escape it even if she tried. Every time she closed her eyes, she imagined being back in the cage again, or being pinned down by a sweaty body. She imagined Aidan's ghost standing in the corner, and the figures of her siblings, looking at her with such disgust that she felt like her heart was disintegrating in her chest. She lay in the same position until the sun came up. Another day. Another chance to push through. She just had to push through.

It's not like it could get any worse, right?

#thread: self #tw humiliation #yikes yikes yikes #mobile so who knows if the formatting stood up #if it didn't I'll fix it later #just wanted to get out this heartbreak

[rogerlad]

The City of Rose & Sun: Part Nine

A/N: I’m starting to get really emotional, knowing this is the second last part of the series. I am still in awe at the response it has gotten. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time out of their busy lives to read this. It genuinely fills me with such gratitude. I love you all. Cheers.

Tag List: @emmieliabedelia@madamnouiselle@laubluered@rogertaylorsblondhair @2ptonpt @kat-to-the-rina@hayley8089 @oklahania@soberandfurious @ughjaims @rogertaylor-xx @fortunately-strange-queen@swingspideyswing@magicwithaknife @scoreofvolunteers @i-got-no-rhythm@i-am-sarah @herewegoagainniall@runningoutofwordstosay @punygodd  @whattaqueen IF I FORGOT ANYONE IM SO SORRY!!!!!!

The City of Sun & Rose: Part Nine

His lips tasted sweet and succulent against yours. You had forgotten just how badly you had missed their presence in your life, even if it had only been a day. He moved up, hovering over you on the bed, pushing into the kiss more so than before. You could feel your breathing picking up, as your kiss was growing more fiercely.

“I want you.” He said, in a low husky voice. You felt yourself shudder beneath him.

“I- I want you too, Roger.” You said before reaching up to kiss him again, running your fingers against his scalp. He moaned into your mouth.

“Shush!” Both of you turned towards the door of the hotel room. “If you keep talking, I can’t hear them!” It was Freddie’s voice. You rolled your eyes before letting out a quiet groan. Leave it to them to be the biggest killjoys. Roger, gently lifted himself from you and walked slowly towards the door. You propped yourself up on your elbows in amusement. Roger looked at you before signally, One, Two, Three, with his fingers. He threw open the door, and the three eaves-dropping lads tumbled into the room.

“Didn’t your mother’s teach you any manners?” You asked, giggling. Roger was howling with laughter at the sight, before dog-piling the boys. 

“Taylor-Shove-Off.” Brian exclaimed, managing to get to his feet. He flashed you a cheeky grin.

“So, I see you two have made up.” He sat next to you, happy to have gotten away from the brawl. John was next to escape, as Freddie and Roger continued to wrestle on the ground. You shook your head at their behaviour.

“Maybe.” You smiled, feeling your cheeks blush for the umpteenth time.

“Oy! Maybe? Before you swine showed up, I was about to seal the deal.” Roger shouted, while Fred held him in a head lock.

“Rog!” You covered your face with your hands, while Brian sighed.

“I’m going to have to get used to this eventually.” He laughed lightly. You lowered your hands, placing one over Brian’s, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I think it will be more difficult to get used to the man, Rog, is becoming because of Rose.” John chimed in. You laughed and pointed towards Roger and Freddie.

“Yeah, what an effect I am implicating.”

The five of you gathered around a large dinning table at a local Italian restaurant. It wasn’t exactly the date Roger had anticipated, but when the boys had heard you were going for pasta, they insisted on tagging along. You didn’t really have the heart to deny them, especially since they had grown accustomed to hotel food and fast food diners. You and Roger sat across from each other, your legs intertwined beneath the table. You giggled each time he slurped his pasta into his mouth. You never understood how someone could look so beautiful, while doing the simplest of things.

“So, Rosanna, are you finally attending a concert tonight?” Brian asked, forking his lasagna.

“Yes! It’s about time I hear you boys play again. Someone has to give you some honest criticism.” You giggled, Freddie scoffed in a joking manor.

“The only one who needs his ego in check is Roggie boy.” Deacy smiled, you were happy the pet name had stuck. Although Roger had a very different opinion, but it was his comeuppance for dubbing you ‘Rosie’.

“Deacs, you’re in charge of the bass line, not the punch line.” Roger mumbled. You sent him a soft smile, which immediately changed his mood. You were happy to have such an effect on him.

“Well, we should be headed out.” Brian announced, as you all paid for your meals. Roger of course, insisting he had yours covered.

You watched from the sides, as the boys tuned and adjusted their instruments. You couldn’t help but smile at them all, as you swung your legs back and forth, sitting on an amp. Brian would look up now and again, to see if you were still there; you didn’t think his protectiveness over you would ever leave. Not that you minded it. Roger taped on the snare, and flashed you a sunshine warm smile, that melted your insides. You found yourself mouthing along to the words Freddie had been singing.

“Gettin’ excited?” John asked, as he walked towards you to grab a water bottle. 

“Yeah, I feel like I haven’t watched you in concert, in ages.” You sighed. He took a long drink.

“That’s because it has been ages.” He laughed light heartedly. You felt sad at the statement, but you could not deny it’s truth. You looked over at Roger, who had his brows furrowed at you. He could sense your sadness. You offered him a forced smile, and he went back to banging away. You felt your eyes glued to the blonde man. You wanted it to always be this way, you didn’t want to miss another show, another moment, another chance to spend time with Roger. Your Roger.

It was then you decided, while he was dripping in sweat, and so intently focused on his rehearsal, that you were undeniably in love with him.  

“Holy shit! Holy shit!” You screamed, jumping into Roger’s arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. “That!” Kiss. “Was!” Kiss. “So!” Kiss. “Good!” Kiss. He set you down laughing, between heavy breathes.

“I’m glad you thought so.” He kissed your head. You brushed his sweaty hair back, in admiration. It had easily been the best concert you had ever seen any of them preform.

“Well, what about us?” Brian asked, pouting his bottom lip. You turned to the other three, soaked in sweat, gulping water, beer and any other liquids they could find.

“So, so, so, so good!” You exclaimed, your ears still ringing in ecstasy. Roger snaked an arm around your shoulder, as he led you towards the back of the concert hall, nearing the dressing room.

“We’re just going to freshen’ up, then we will head for the bars okay, Rosie?” You bit your lip, shifting from one foot to the other. “Okay, that’s not okay. What do you want to do?” His voice held a slight concern.

“I was thinking we could maybe...” You adjusted your shirt, fidgeting while try to find the words. 

“I thought we weren’t going to do that until I officially made you my girl.” His words caused your heart to race. His girl. You looked him in the face now, watching the beads of sweat on his forehead. The focus he held on you was unnerving.

“Well, I don’t know when that’s going to happen.” You said, barely a whisper.

“I can’t reveal all my secrets, now can I?” He winked at you, a grin dancing across his lips. He pulled you in tightly, kissing your hair. “A few beers, then we will call it a night, okay?” He asked, his smile still plastered on. You nodded, it was more than okay. As long as you were together. Although, it concerned you that Roger Taylor had turned down the invitation to sex. It was totally out of character for him. You watched him walk away with longing eyes, as he disappeared into the dressing room.

“Rose? You alright?” Brian asked, bringing you another beer. You smiled, and took it more than willingly.

“Do you know where he is?” You asked, taking a sip. Brian shook his head, but the look in his eyes told you a different story. Roger had dropped you off at the bar just down from the hotel, said he would be right back, but you hadn’t seen him in well over an hour. You could feel the knots twisting in your stomach, in fear you had given him a second chance all too soon. Bri read your expression like it was the cover of the express.

“He’s not-No, Rosanna.” He touched your shoulder gently, hoping he would be able to bring you a sense of reassurance. It had helped, some what, but you we’re still growing anxious.

“Okay.” You said, taking another drink. You needed the liquid courage to calm your nerves. Brian nodded in the direction behind you, at that moment. You turned your head over your shoulder, and saw Roger, pushing his way through the masses, towards you.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to take so long.” He chuckled once he finally got to you, lighting up a smoke quickly. “Finish your beer, hun.” He said with the cigarette dancing between his lips. “We’re getting out of here.” To both his and Bri’s surprise, you slugged down the lager, as if your throat were as dry as the Sahara.

“Let’s go.”

#the city of rose and sun #roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #brian may #brian may imagine #john deacon #john deacon imagine #freddie mercury #freddie mercury imagine #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagine #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #gwilym lee #gwilym lee imagine #joe mazzello #joe mazzello imagine #rami malek #rami malek imagine #queen #queen imagines

[123goth]

Night Out

Her throat was dry. She could hear the tap dripping intermittently into the aluminum sink behind her. The way the quiet pitter-patter was unrhythmic and unpredictable sent a shiver down her spine. She buried her face into the couch. Dad said he was going to fix the pipes last weekend, but something came up. Maybe mom is sick, she thought. It didn’t matter anyway. Dad’s mind worked more like a river than a pond. Nothing stayed in view for long. Instead, everything moved along with the current. In one ear, leaking out the other.

Seconds seem to drip out of Katherine’s hands. She was waiting. Darcy was supposed to arrive soon, but that wasn’t her style. There was no reason for it either, but it always kept Katerine on her feet.

They had plans that night. A movie and dinner at a rooftop bar catering mostly to middle-aged couples desperately seeking respite from kids they loved but couldn’t always like. Katherine had wanted to go for a while. Vintage lights hung from thick cords around the deck. All the chairs were mismatched, some of the wickers, like they were stolen from an elderly woman’s backyard, others ornate dining chairs with delicate designs carved into the wood and purple velvet seats accented with tortoiseshell buttons.

It sat in the middle of the town square, overlooking a tall war monument protecting the roundabout that controlled everything. Once could not get anywhere without looking the Union soldier in the eyes. His face was gaunt, as though starvation from the war followed him. His cheekbones protruded, leaving the skin to drape loosely below. The small holes in the limestone left the statue with a strange aura of life, like each of his pores was delicately chiseled onto his face. She never learned his name.

Katherine lifted her head out of the linen cushions. Darcy should be here soon, but she was already 30 minutes late. They would miss the movie for sure. She could show up with a bundle of flowers. That happened once, years ago when they had first met. The summer night was ebbing slowly into the sky as the sun began to lay its head. She remembers the scene so vividly. The orange clouds mixed with the blush pink seeping from the delicate blue, teeter toddlers between a fading gray and a dying cornflower, the day’s last gift to the trees before falling below their view.

They didn’t have set plans that night, just dinner around seven, but Katherine was anxious. What if the food gets cold? She was always worried. Dinner sat on the stove, her on the couch. Staring at the light hanging from the ceiling, a myriad of disastrous situations danced before her eyes. Car crash. Pole fell on her while she was driving. Slipped and fell. Got lost. Abducted. Phone died. She doesn’t like you. She doesn’t like you. She doesn’t like you. “Enough of that,” Katherine said to herself. Her mind worked more like a whirlpool, spinning deeper and deeper into itself. Usually, a part of her sat above, throwing a lifesaver down before her head submerged fully. Slapping her knees, she stood and looked out the window. The stars, rubbing their tired eyes, were peering faintly out over the leaves.

Just as she sighed, the heaving type where sadness pools into and out of one’s lungs with the same breath, she heard a knock at the door. She was startled, a jolt of energy mixed with reupholstered fear made her fingers cold as she rushed to the door. Katherine found herself staring at Darcy, holding bunches of wildflowers. Giddy joy and a twinge of childlike apologetic guilt spread across her cheeks like blush on her olive skin.

Her outfit was eclectic and completely her own. Daisy yellow vinyl raincoat with accenting red sleeves with matching rain boots. They were covered with mud, Katherine would later find that she had waded through a creek to grab the flowers for her. She wore a sweater underneath. It must have been wool, but Katherine couldn’t tell. The thick knit turtleneck was a deep brown, coincidentally matching the mud on her shoes. She was messy and put together. A whirlwind and a light breeze. Summer air and heavy rainfall.

“These are for you.” She thrust the bouquet forward into Katherine’s chest. A ladybug was hanging onto one of the leaves. It flew off towards the light above them. “T-thank you,” Katherine mumbled, not meeting Darcy’s eyes, instead of locked in a trance at the meager gift she had received. There must have been something in the pollen, Katherine thinks, because at that moment, looking into Darcy’s brown eyes, spun with specks of green, she fell in love.

Remembering that night always brought that same smirk Darcy had to Katherine’s lips. She had been trying to be more like her, daring. Unapologetically herself. Wanting nothing from the world besides what she could find on the side of the road or hidden behind her ear.

A light-filled the living room from the driveway. Darcy’s old station wagon flew up next to the house. A flutter started somewhere in Katherine’s legs, moving quickly up to her chest. Heartbeats became so rapid, she couldn’t tell if her heart had stopped altogether or not. Suddenly, she couldn’t remember whether or not she had brushed her teeth. It’s too late to check. She did, she knew she did. A small part of her sat on her heart, calming her soul. Tonight could be the night. It could finally be tonight. She padded from the window to the entrance hall, tiptoeing like she was afraid to move any luck that had settled to the floor from countless days of blowing matches out with the same thought each time.

They had known each other for years now, but Katherine felt something special in the night. The birds had continued singing much longer than they usually did. The moon was just short of full, its eerily bright light illuminating the front yard. The back of the door seemed whiter, purer somehow. She wanted to wait, just to stare until Darcy’s signature knock would fill her ears, just before she would let herself in. “Kat. Kat, listen. Waiting is for the birds. I promise I’ll always knock before I walk in,” she pleaded with her once after Katherine suggested she open the door for her. But, she knew it was futile, and it didn’t bother her anyway. Darcy was a hurricane, and hurricanes don’t ask to go anywhere.

She heard steps on the stairs. Knock. Breathe. Knock. Breathe. Knock. Breathe. Doorknob. Breathe, Katherine.

The door swung open, and there she stood. She smelled like cinnamon and jasmine. It was something new every day. Sometimes small bottles of sandalwood jostled in her purse on early morning walks. Rose petals hidden behind her ears, lavender pouches in her pockets. She was wearing baggy jeans with stars that she had doodled all over her legs. Various colors and sizes of an imaginary galaxy covered her knees. An oversized jacket draped over her bony shoulders, a tight maroon top somehow was also falling off of her. The dinner was somewhat formal, although she didn’t fit the atmosphere much, Katherine knew it wouldn’t matter. Darcy transformed wherever she was. The sky would change colors for her, Katherine was almost sure of that.

“I have a surprise for you,” she said, that special smirk forming as she turned to grab what she had brought. “You’ll never guess what I found when I ran into the drug store on my way here.” She ducked behind the other closed door. There was a scuttle. Katherine’s chest felt heavy. “You remember Tyler, right?” A man appeared in front of Katherine.

  Fuck.

Something broke inside her for a moment. Brief and hopefully indistinguishable in her face. The girl sitting on her heart fell, clutching at her ribs in vain. There was nothing to do.

“Yes! Tyler, how are you? It’s been so long!” She spoke slightly through her teeth, hoping embarrassment and resentment weren’t leaking out her eyes instead of the tears she was holding back. She did know Tyler. They had gone to high school together years ago. She had fallen out of touch with him because she had wanted to. Blame it on the breeze, she reasoned to herself. Time moves and people move with it. It’s no one’s fault. You didn’t even see it happen. But there he stood. His lanky arms filled the space uncomfortably. Katherine felt a strange aura around him. Did he even want to be here? Darcy wanted him to. She held his hand as his eyes couldn’t seem to meet Katherine’s.

His voice was quiet. “Yeah. Hi. It’s been a while.” He didn’t know what he was getting roped into. It was obvious. He just wanted what most people who saw Darcy walking past wanted. Katherine wanted to think she was special, different from the rest, but maybe she wasn’t after all. She did want what he did, but she also wanted to hear about her dreams and what she thought of each blade of grass in the yard. To know her favorite shade of yellow and why certain days have darker blue skies than others. He wouldn’t want that. If he did, Katherine couldn’t be better. There was no fighting it.

“Let me grab my purse and fix my hair, then we can go. I’ll meet you guys in the car?” She spoke more like a command than a suggestion, turning for the bathroom before she had finished talking. She wanted to scream. Pull her hair out. Punch something. Why are you even angry? This wasn’t a date anyway. But she wanted it to be. This was going to be the night where she would look Darcy in the eyes and reach for her hand. Recite a poem about brown-haired girls with big lives and too little time on their hands. She would look her in the eyes and say everything that was collecting on a desk in the back of her mind.

She knotted her thick hair into a bun. It didn’t matter what she looked like anymore. She wiped off the meticulously applied lipstick, smearing it slightly across her cheek. She wanted to rub her makeup off. It didn’t matter. Tears rolled down her face. Suck it up. You don’t cry. Courage was mustered from somewhere in her that she didn’t know existed. With one glance in the mirror and a forced smile, she walked to the car.

The night passed fast.

They arrived. The waiter arrived. Dinner arrived. Other diners arrived. The noise arrived. The discomfort arrived.

It felt like Katherine was third-wheeling her plans. Darcy was always touching Tyler. Nothing inappropriate. A hand on the chest. A simple slap on the shoulder. Fingers accidentally tracing his hand as she reached for something. The conversation was tedious. Tyler monotonously droned on about a job Katherine didn’t care about. All she could stare at was his tooth gap and how his cheeks were too big for his face. His chin was sharp and too strong, she felt, for his big apple cheeks.

The night passed fast.

She was standing on her porch as she watched Darcy get into her car, Tyler by her side, his arm around her shoulder. She watched them get into the car. She watched them look at the other the way she always thought Darcy looked at her. He put his hand on the back of her neck and kissed her delicately. Katherine dissolved into a puddle.

  She’s not a prize. She’s never even told you if she likes girls anyway. That was true. She didn’t know if she did like girls, but that wasn’t ever something they talked about. “Labels are restricting. Who cares what I am when I don’t even fully know yet,” Darcy exclaimed one night. Her arms were always flung everywhere while she spoke like she was giving a speech no matter how small the audience was.

She sat on the couch while the tv played infomercials for the perfect nonstick pan. Nothing would ever stay on it. “No oil needed!” the enthusiastic host practically yelled into the camera. With the loud crash of overzealous salesmanship, Katherine’s eyes refocused. Darcy’s mind was like a riptide. Pulling people out to sea before they could realize how deep they were in. She was stuck out in the sea now, too far to find her way back to the shore she began on. Time moves quickly, but Katherine moves faster. It’s time to let go of the current. It was.

Sweet Darcy. She thought longingly at all the nights when the sky was too perfect not to reach out for her. All the opportunities she missed. Her exterior was too slick. Her walls are too high. Sweet Darcy. The sun has set. The light is gone. And as the birds finally fell asleep, she grappled with the position she found herself stuck in. I’m never going out with you again.

#romantic aesthetic

[fresh-start-official-blog]

Fresh Start | C4

Chapter Four: I’m Fine, Thanks

warning: mention of sexual assault, swearing

I couldn’t sleep that night. Anytime I closed my eyes it all came back, haunting me. Jug was holding me, brushing my hair, trying to get me to sleep. It was so quiet, the only noise was the harsh shouts of my dad while he was on the phone, trying to find, them. Once or twice, I started to fall asleep but soon enough woke up in screams, my body wet from tears and sweat, and shaking so much my vision blurred. After that, I stared vacantly at the clock, numbingly waiting for the time to go by. My days repeated like this for a week. I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep. It soon read 7:14 and I pushed myself out of bed, sniffling and regaining steadiness. “I need a shower,” I said, looking down trying to avoid eye contact. “Kat,” His voice was nothing but soft and calming, “shout if you need anything,” Nodding, I walked into the bathroom. After turning on the shower, and getting in, I stood there for a while, feeling every scorching droplet running down my body, having a race on who can reach the drain first, then I just broke down. And at this point, the emotional pain almost matched the physical pain. A constant reminder formed on my skin as bruises in the shapes of hand grips on my wrists, arms and stomach. I could tell it’d been a while in the shower, my fingertips had pruned up, and I decided to finally get out. Wrapping the towel around my petite, beaten and battered body, I took my hair out of the bun (so it didn’t get wet) and let it fall naturally around my face. Putting on a mustard yellow jumper, big enough to hide the bruises, and some mom jeans, I walked into the kitchen so get a cup of black coffee. Dad, Jug and Sweet Pea sat at the table. After a while of a somewhat uncomfortable silence, Pea coughed before blurting out, “Southside High was shut down.” Alerted by his abruptness, Jughead quickly chimed in, “We’ll be at Riverdale High for a while,” Setting my mug down, and placing on my shoes, I shot the warmest smile I could, “So you can drive me to school?” Even if I didn’t feel it, I was going to pretend I was fine. Go on with my life. Like they say, fake it ‘till you make it. “Y-you’re going back? Are you sure, how are you feeling?” My dad shot out of his seat, protectively. “I’m fine, thanks, now can we go?” Jug and Pea sent each other this look before nodding and Pea walked over to me, “If you at any point want to leave, let us know,” *** Walking into the halls of Riverdale High was daunting, masses of Serpents and Ghoulies clung to the lockers and walls. I felt all eyes on me, and it didn’t help that I had two of the most known younger serpents clung to my side. “You good, princess?” He rubbed up and down my arm and I felt more relaxed as we walked into the student room. Sitting on the sofa was Archie, Veronica, Betty, Cheryl and Reggie. “Jug!” Betty beamed, getting off of her seat before pressing a passionate kiss on his lips. I couldn’t help but smile at their love. I sat on the sofa, next to Archie, who’s face instantly fell, I hadn’t been at school for a week, I had lost so much weight, my skin sickly pale and my bones looked as if they were going to cut through my skin, “Kat?” Not saying a word, I just fell into his side, wanting and needing his embrace, “I’m fine, thanks,” Holding me tighter, I could sense the glares he was sending Pea, and vice versa. Kevin shortly joined, Betty, Jug and Pea also sitting down and the crowd of people soon became too much and I couldn’t breathe. Forcefully getting up, I walked over to the water machine and picked up a plastic cup. “Kat,” Jumping and slightly yelping at the sudden noise, I scrunched the cup in my hand and shut my eyes, trying to start breathing again. Turning around, Cheryl stood there, the panic and worry evident in her eyes, she gently placed her hand on my arm, “Come outside with me,” She walked us into the changing rooms, boys or girls I wasn’t sure, and she sat us down on the benches and started to rub my back. “What’s up, you seem so distant and jittery,” I started to stutter, trying to regain strength, “I’m fine, thanks,” Pouting, she shuffled closer, “That’s a lie.” “Last week, I went to see Juggie at Southside High, he went home and I called Sweet Pea to pick me up so we could hang out.” Every word I chocked on. It was so easy yet the hardest thing I’ve ever done. “I waited, alone, and some Ghoulies saw me and they-they,” Before I could say anymore, I broke down, sobbed. Every word rang in my head over and over, I felt my head caving in. Cheryl curled her arms around me, pulling me in, embracing me. I saw it so vibrantly in my mind, their breath, their touch, their damage: everything. Like I was there again, reliving each moment again; each feeling felt a million times more intense, each sensation a crack in the heart until it was all shattered. “Look at me, look,” she gently pushed my head up, looking me straight in the eyes, “You’re going to get through this, I did. I was at a party, and this… Nick St. Creature, drugged my drink and although he didn’t do anything, Veronica and Josie had saved me, I still remember the panic and his voice and… but I got through it. I’ll be here for you,” Hugging me one last time, we made it look like I didn’t cry, or the best we could. We started to walk back into the student room, and I felt so much better, not better but, like I wasn’t alone. “Thank you Cheryl,” She smiled, motioning for me to walk into the room, and once again everyone was staring. I was never used to this amount of attention – ever. Back in Toledo, I had two friends, we stuck to ourselves and I never went partying, or anything like that. It was simple and, easy. “Want one?” Reggie’s voice had taken me out of my trance, he was holding out a bag of Cheetos, everyone eating them. Shaking my head, I sat in between Archie and Pea, and stayed silent. At the same time, they looked at me and held out their arms for me to cuddle into them. Everyone looked at each other in shock and slight amusement. “Shit, Kat!” Reggie howled, laughing his head-off, earning a slap on the arm from Cheryl. Veronica muttered, Oh God, before nervously sipping her coffee. Archie coughed, drawing his arm back as his face turned as red as his hair. Pea, however, didn’t budge, smirking around the room, before Jughead glared at him resulting in him scoffing and crossing his arms. But while all that happened, my eyes were locked on the group of kids at the other side of the room. Laughing amongst themselves, smirking, joking around. Each time they spoke, my body shivered, the lump in my throat hardening. My vision blurred, and I started sweating and shaking. None of my friends noticed until, I started to lightly gasp for air, Cheryl immediately rushing over, Pea leaning down, rubbing my back, as Jug practically pushed Archie out of the way to sit beside me. “Kat,” Pea’s voice was panicked, brash trying to get me to move, or talk. “She’s having a panic attack, I think.” Cheryl stated, the three of them starting to guide me to the door. By the time I got up, my breathing started to regulate, and I stopped walking. The three of them scanned my face as I looked Cheryl in the eyes. “In the corner. That’s them.” Before I could process it, Cheryl held me tight and my brother and Pea had left my side.

tags: @courage-means-angel-wings

@miserablewreck

#sweet pea #archie andrews #betty cooper #reggie mantle #jughead jones #fp jones #kat jones #x oc #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea x reader #fresh start #c4 #chapter 4 #riverdale #fanfic #karchie #katpea

[honestgrins]

Love It or List It || Klaroline

Klaroline AU Week Day 1: Crossovers and Fusions

Caroline and Klaus are the popular hosts of HGTV's Love It or List It, and Bonnie is a huge fan. Their banter is so fun to watch, it's hard to believe they're not a real couple...

"But are they going to Love It…" Klaus smirked into the camera, winking.

"Or List It?" Caroline finished with a gentle hip-check to her co-host.

Bonnie avidly watched as the director called, "Cut!" to huddle with the cameraman, waving over the famous faces that filled her screen on a near-daily basis. "I still can't believe you got us on the show," she whispered excitedly to her wife.

Shrugging, Nora smoothed a smudge from Bonnie's lipstick. "It was the only way I could get you to consider a remodel. I figured you would be too distracted by Klaroline to put up a real fight."

"Oh, we're definitely moving," Bonnie automatically dismissed, "but we'll be moving into a house Caroline Forbes finds for us!"

The tenacious real estate agent always managed to find amazing contenders for the show, a seemingly perfect house that miraculously matched the buyers' demands. For Bonnie, it was like watching magic, and she didn't always understand how the clients turned down a dream home.

Except when she saw their real home redesigned with the Klaus Mikaelson touch, then it made sense. His artistic eye created a magic all its own, taking what was outdated and turning it into something beautiful.

"And can it on the Klaroline teasing, okay?" Bonnie quietly begged, embarrassed. "They'd just make a really cute couple."

She wasn't much for following celebrities, she preferred books and TV for her dramatic consumption. But if Bonnie had to choose a "will they, won't they" couple to buy tabloids about, Klaus and Caroline's chemistry would be worth the money. They were fiercely competitive with each other, despite keeping the trash talk at a light flirt. Entertainment blogs swore there was something going on between the interior designer and the realtor off-camera - they even had their own ship name - and she wanted to believe it was true.

The director had ushered her cameraman toward the living room, leaving behind her hosts bickering like an old married couple. Even as Nora pulled her toward them, Bonnie couldn't resist hanging onto the details of their murmured conversation. "You already shook on it, sweetheart. Surely you're not afraid of losing our wager."

Bristling, Caroline bit back her response when she saw their guests eyeing them in intrigue. "Hey," she effortlessly slid into a friendly host mode. "Are you two ready to talk about dream homes?"

"They're already in it, love," Klaus countered. "But we should discuss what it will take to make this home everything you want it to be."

"And," Caroline broke in, "how to make this a good experience for you both. Klaus and I can get competitive with each other, but this process isn't about us at all. I mean, I do have the better record so far-"

Klaus cleared his throat, amused. "However, these are your lives. We start with your ideas and desires, and you make final decisions. Period."

Caroline nodded in agreement. "Seriously, we may be total control freaks, but this is your show. Please don't hesitate to get us back on track for your vision, especially if this one tries to incorporate red walls and brown leather everywhere."

Holding his hand to his heart, Klaus's light tone was defensive. "I'm a professional, and I can appreciate that not everyone shares my impeccable taste for rich, warm tones."

"Can you? Can you really?"

Her cheeks hurting from smiling, Bonnie loved watching the back and forth between them. Even Nora was holding back a laugh until two quick snaps from the living room caught their attention."

"Children," the director called, clearly used to the banter. "Time to talk priorities. Enzo's all set up to film."

"Thanks, Kat," Caroline answered. She linked elbows with Bonnie, winking at Nora as she lead the way through the door. "Come on, let's talk about your dream house. I've got some great listings lined up for inspiration."

"Cheating's beneath you, love."

Glancing over her shoulder, Caroline stuck out her tongue. "Be ready to pay up, Mikaelson."

Bonnie turned up a curious gaze. "Pay up?"

"Running bet," Caroline shrugged.

Kat corralled them into position before Bonnie could ask more, because - damn - that was an interesting tidbit.

What did her favorite duo have as a running bet?

Klaus's hand scribbled over the tentative remodel plans, scratching notes as Nora rattled off her ideas. Bonnie, though, kept looking for hints that he and Caroline were closer than their audience knew. She had long since clocked a complete lack of wedding rings or mentions of significant others, but the way he kept sneaking glances to his co-host while she chatted with Kat had to mean something.

Right?

"Did you have any questions, Bonnie?" Klaus asked expectantly.

Blinking, she realized she had been staring a bit too pointedly at his face. "Um, no," she stammered. Her chest swelled with a sudden intake of breath. "How long have you and Caroline been working together?"

He smiled easily, shrugging off the non-sequitur. "The show's been running for three years."

Simple, direct - not nearly enough for Bonnie. "Caroline mentioned her record is better," she prodded. "Do you guys really keep score? Trade a trophy back and forth, maybe?"

A smaller grin, almost shy, pulled at his lips. "The satisfaction of winning is rarely enough," he answered, cryptic. "Raising the stakes makes things interesting."

Coughing delicately, though, Nora tried to bring the conversation back. "About the floors…" She sent a chastising look to her wife, lacing their fingers together in mild apology at another tempting thread of information lost. "I'd really prefer tile over laminate for the basement.

Crowded together on the front porch of Caroline's latest listing, Bonnie and Nora heatedly discussed their reactions to the seemingly charming ranch house - until they saw the inside. "I know it's superficial," Nora defended, "but the murals are creepy and too much."

"They can be painted over," Bonnie argued, though she definitely held back a shiver at the bad feeling some of the more lurid images inspired. "The closets were huge."

Nora snorted incredulously. "I'm still stuck on the frowning woman. She's just frowning, in every room. I can't imagine why anyone would want to paint the same woman over and over, let alone with such a grimace."

Shaking her head, Caroline locked the front door, careful to avoid looking at Enzo and the camera he held. "Artist types," she muttered simply. "They never want to give up a muse."

Enzo choked on a laugh, only for Caroline to glare at him after all. "Shut up."

With a puzzled tilt of her head, Bonnie wondered at the exchange and the possible clues it held for the mystery of Caroline's personal life. However, Nora started to gloat about how great the bathroom renovation was looking back home, and her hopes dwindled at finding another house in time for the final decision.

"No hard feelings," Caroline promised, giving both Nora and Bonnie goodbye hugs. They had finally chosen to love their remodeled home, even with Bonnie's stubborn insistence that moving was the only option she would accept. With the decision wrapped, the filming team was ready to take on the next project. "This place looks beautiful."

"Thank you, love." Klaus winked at Caroline and offered them a cordial handshake, though his charming smile was warmer after weeks of working together. "I hope you both enjoy it to the fullest."

Nora gave a private smile, squeezing her wife's hip. "We intend to. Thank you both so much, for everything."

"The pleasure was ours," Klaus answered. "Mine more than Caroline's, I'd wager."

With narrowed eyes, Caroline shook her head ruefully at the obvious pun. "Don't get cocky, there's always the next one. And it's easy to be happy for Bonnie and Nora getting to fall in love with their home all over again."

Bonnie waved as they continued to bicker all the way out of the house, wishing she had shored up the courage to ask what she really wanted to know. "They're totally dating, right?"

Letting out an amused sigh, Nora sidled up to where Enzo was packing away his camera. "Help my wife put her crazy theories to rest. Are Klaus and Caroline together, or what?"

The cameraman smirked, like he had been expecting a similar question all along. "Who, those two? That'd be a contentious marriage, to be sure. They do complement each other, I'll give them that - but they're both pretty private, you'd have to ask them."

"Do you know what their bet is, at least?" Bonnie asked.

But he shook his head, "Sorry, darling. Ignorance is bliss."

Sadly, Bonnie watched them leave. Despite the unsatisfying non-answer as to their relationship status, a part of her would still hold out hope for Klaroline.

They seemed so good together.

Letting himself into his own dream home, Klaus made his way to the back patio with the fresh art supplies he'd made a special trip to buy. "I think I want to focus on the line of your neck, brightened by the moonlight," he announced, smirking at the nearly naked blonde waiting for him. Grateful for the privacy fence surrounding their property, he dropped a kiss on her resigned pout.

Caroline set aside her phone with a mournful sigh, her silk robe snagging on the patio chair as she turned to face him. "Does that mean I can put on pants? My ass is freezing."

"You know the rules, sweetheart," he teased. Sitting beside her, his lips fell to graze the edge of her robe, slipping it aside so he could nibble at her bare skin. "I win a tastefully nude model, you win a naughty massage. No one likes a sore loser."

She snorted, leaning into his touch. "You married one," she pointed out. "Enjoy your victory while it lasts, hubby, because I will win the next one."

The corners of his lips turned up, and she could feel him smile against her neck. "Whatever you say, love."

Links: FFnet and AO3

#klarolineauweek #day one - crossovers and fusions #klaroline drabbles #klaroline #fandom love #fic: love it or list it #come sail away #guys i'm sorry if this sucks #i have a feeling all of my drabbles this week will suck #but i'm going to keep going because the plot bunnies won't stop running in my head #then the plan is to knock out a chapter of Delivered before switching to NaNo mode #again just sorry for all this #i hope you might like it anyway?

[the-tales-of-horror]

I Regret Signing up for the Experimental Rehabilitation Project

Original Link By Hayong

For the past 3 days, I have gone by the name of B9741. I am part of a “rehabilitation project” created by my country. Twenty days ago, my mother walked in on me watching videos “created by the devil.” It would have been better had I been in America or any other country with less strict rules, but I wasn’t. My mother could have just forgotten about walking in on me jacking it off, but shit happens. She reported me to the police. It was my third offense. I was given two choices. Go to prison for 3 years or I could go to a new rehabilitation service they created. I would only need to stay there till I am healed. I went for the latter. I figured it would be easy for me to change. I’m only 23. I have time anyway.

I was one of three other people on the bus. It was a rickety old yellow thing, but it managed to not break down the entire 8-hour ride. I was the last to fall asleep on the bus. A loud alarm ripped me out from my dreams. A groan came from the left side of me, I looked over and saw a woman slowly getting up and looked over at me. She cracked a smile and said, “Oh well this is a nice surprise. I haven’t had a roommate in over 2 years. I was starting to get really lonely.” I mumbled incoherent nonsense back at her and looked around the room. There were two beds, a small desk with two cell phones, and a small tv mounted to the wall next to the door. When she saw how confused I was she chuckled and said, “I’m sure you’re confused. I was too. The last thing I remembered was being on the bus, and waking up to a stranger in a tiny room is probably the least comfortable thing in the world.”

Honestly, she was the only reason why I was comfortable. She wasn’t the most attractive person in the world, but she looked to be around my age. Her voice had a soothing effect on me, and the light freckles littered across her face had a certain charm on me. After a couple of minutes, she sat next to me on my bed and put her hand on my shoulder while reassuring me that I would be fine. Shit. I fell in love with her that second.

I tried to muster all of the courage I had and touch her hand. Tell her that she would be fine too, but the tv turned on, and a low monotone voice ripped my attention away from her. The tv screen was completely white.

”We have some new faces today. Remember to mentor your new roommates. Don’t let them fuck up because whatever rule they break, will also result in your punishment. Breakfast begins in five minutes. Take your phones and remember. The rules are made for your healing. The punishments are made for your discipline.”

When the tv feed cut out, I looked over at her and saw that she was handing me my phone. I took it, turned it on, and waited for the phone to power up. While I was waiting for the phone to turn on, she handed me a small sheet of paper.

Rules

Using your phones for anything other than your healing process is strictly forbidden. Your phones are monitored at all times. Consequences for breaking this rule will vary.

Contacting anyone outside of our facility is strictly monitored. Any mention of what we do inside of here is forbidden and will result in 6 months of solitary confinement.

You must remain abstinent while you are here. That goes for consumption of alcohol as well as fornicating. Consequences will vary.

Medicine given by the staff must be consumed. Refusing to take the medication will result in 30 lashes.

Use your common sense. If you know what you are doing is wrong, do not do it. You are watched at all times. You are never out of sight.

As soon as I finished reading the rules, I looked at my phone and saw that there weren’t any sort of apps on it. Hell, it was completely blank except for “Hello B9741” in the middle of the solid yellow screen and a browser. I tried searching for a couple of sites, despite the rules and saw that Facebook, e-mails, and even most pages on Google were blocked.

I looked over at my freckled roommate and she gave me a small nod before saying, “Well Mr. B9741, I go by S8257 or you can just call me Kat. It’s not my real name, but it makes me sound human at least. What do you want me to call you by the way?” I thought for a second before smiling for the first time since I got here and said, “Butterfinger. It’s a good tasting candy, and it kind of explains why I’m here in the first place.” She gave me a confused look, but the door opened up and bright light flooded into our dimly lit room. It took me a second to adjust to the light, but as my vision finally started to come back, I noticed an endless stream of people walking past our door.

Kat tapped me on the shoulder, and I got up from the bed and followed closely behind her into the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was a massive room. It looked to be occupied by well over two thousand people. There were trays of food on every single seat. I sat next to Kat and realized that every single thing in the kitchen was unnaturally white as if every inch of the cafeteria was meticulously cleaned by a multitude of workers.

Along with our food, there were three pills on my tray. Kat had three pills as well, but it looked like some people had small mountains of pills. Breakfast ended when the sound of thousands of phones vibrating filled the air.

We all started with our morning meetings. Kat was assigned to a different room from me. The meeting room was about double the size of my room. It was completely white just like the cafeteria. A bored looking staff member and around 40 other people were waiting in the room when I walked in. He looked up when the same alarm that woke me up this morning went off. He cleared his throat and introduced me to the others as B9741. After he finished with the introduction he didn’t say another word for the rest of the 2-hour meeting. No one else said anything. We just awkwardly stared at each other. My phone vibrated, and I took it out. “Report to the cafeteria for job assignments.”

When I got to the cafeteria, I saw the other two people standing in the middle of the cafeteria. A man and a woman, the man looked younger than me while the woman was well over 40. The sound of static came from behind us and I turned around to see that a tv dropped down from the ceiling. It was the white screen again.

The same low monotone voice filled the cafeteria room.

“S6497, you are a black shirt. You will assist the staff with punishing our rule breakers.” The man nodded his head and was soon led away by a couple of other people dressed in black. “F2854, you are going to be a red shirt. You will test run a couple of medications for us.” People dressed in red led her away. “B9741, you are a white shirt. You will be placed in charge of a group of people. If they break too many rules, you are to act as their sacrifice.”

I met the people that I was in charge of. It was only 8 people. Three black shirts, two red shirts, and three yellow shirts. The yellow shirts are in charge of monitoring letters that are sent by us.

I didn’t like it here, but hell, it was a lot better than I expected. Well, until last night.

Kat and I were sitting in the room talking about what we were going to do when we left when the tv came on and Kat’s face turned pale.

”When rules are broken consequences happen. Everyone report to the cafeteria.”

I tried asking Kat what was going on, but she just shook her head and started walking to the cafeteria when our door opened.

When I got into the cafeteria, I noticed everyone formed a giant circle around the center of the cafeteria. I found an open spot in the circle closest to the back doors. A red shirt male and white shirt female stood in the center of the circle. Two staff members and a black shirt were standing behind them silently.

The tv in the cafeteria turned on and the voice spoke a single word.

”Begin”

The black shirt took out a whip from behind him and started to strike the red shirt. He winced from the pain, but he managed to stay completely still. Thirty lashes. His shirt was torn open in over a dozen places, blood spilled out of the fresh wounds on his body, but hell, he was still alive. The black shirt put the whip down and grabbed a knife from the floor. He slowly rubbed the white shirt’s face with it. She shivered, but she hung her face low. Before I could understand what was going to happen, the black shirt grabbed the white shirt by her hair and cut her throat open. She let out a soft gurgle as blood poured out of her neck. The black shirt continued to cut her in various places before the white shirt let out a final breath and became still.

So here I am. About an hour before I’m supposed to get up. Why am I on here? Because I can. Reddit isn’t blocked on here, and this was the subreddit that showed the most amount of promise for any type of help. Whatever you do. Please don’t report this project. I am already risking my life trying to find a way out of here. Just please. Give me some suggestions. What should I do? How can I get out of here?

#I Regret Signing up for the Experimental Rehabilitation Project #Horror Stories #TTOH #Scary Story #Reddit NoSleep

[mcutrio]

Final Battle [7]

Final Battle [7]

Tags: @buckys-little-monster @imaginesofeverykind

“Woah,” Kat breathed, her eyes opening after waving away the dirt and ash from Thor blasting open the rock wall. Above her in the vault was one of the few Chautari beasts that wreaked havoc upon New York, and as menacing as it was, it was an incredible sight. “Banner-- get to Romanoff. Thor and I will scope out the area.”

“I got it,” Bruce responded, stepping tentatively behind the two.

“This place is creepy,” Kat blinked, her eyes adjusting to the dim light. “Strucker’s been a busy boy, huh?”

The sudden sound of metal churning and cogs whirring caught their ears and they turned, though were sent to the ground with a whoosh as a metal figure blasted past them. Before it could turn back and shoot them down, however, Kat reached for it and punched a hole through its chest, sparks flying upon impact. She looked over at Thor with panicked eyes, watching as four or five more came from within the vault.

“Guys?” Tabitha called out, her hands shaking as she pressed her fingers to her earpiece, watching Ultron’s robots unearth themselves from the ground. “We’ve got company.”

“Get off the bridge!” Wanda demanded in front of her, ushering the citizens to get to safety before creating a pulsing, red shield that defended them from shockwaves and blasts that the robots sent, only to be forced to the ground whilst Tabitha used her powers to tear them in half. She helped the young girl up, pushing her forwards so that they could make their way to the midst of the battle, where Pietro stormed through bots and Clint shot them down with arrows.

However, they were brought to an immediate halt when the ground began violently shaking beneath them, and they instinctively grabbed cars and telephone poles in an attempt to stay upright.

“This looks promising,” Kat said, stepping forwards as she looked over into a pit that seemed to go on forever, like an abyss. Thor ceased following her as the ceiling began to churn, and the pair looked up above them as the metal core began to throb with blue lights and seemingly lift the ground above it up into the air, casting streams of daylight onto them before large chunks of earth began falling down.

“Thor!” Kat yelled, her hands covering her face to protect it from the cascading rock and debris.

The god of thunder shielded her, lifting his hammer in an attempt to create an air pocket as they were helplessly buried beneath the earth.

Courtney stopped dead in her tracks at the perimeter of the rock, watching as the city broke away from its country and was lifted into the air. Steve caught her arm, keeping her steady on her feet.

“Do you see the beauty of it?” Ultron said, his voice echoing between each of his bots, “the inevitability… you rise, only to fall. You, Avengers, you are my meteor, my swift and terrible sword. And the earth will crack with the weight of your failure. Purge me from your computer's, turn my own flesh against me; it means nothing. When the dust settles, the only thing living in this world will be metal.”

The Avengers who occupied the city were quick to respond to Ultron’s threat and continued to fight off the army of metal who seemed preoccupied with nothing other than taking the team down.

Suddenly, a metal bot smashed into Steve’s front and catapulted him into a car, only to be taken down a moment later by Court who shot six bullets straight into its eyes.

“Cap, you got incoming!” Tony reported.

“Augh, incoming already came in.” Rogers groaned, taking Court's hand as she lifted him to his feet. “Stark, you worry about bringing the city down safely. The rest of us have one job,” Steve threw his shield, taking down four bots. “Tear these things apart. You get hurt? Hurt ‘em back. You get killed? Walk it off.”

Bucky, ripping the head off of a robot, felt a surge of static surrounding him as he looked up to watch another one of Ultron’s minions smash into a purple orb that surrounded him. The moment it vanished, he looked over to Tabitha who held her hands in his direction, nodding at him.

“Did you not hear me the first time?” She grinned, sending a shockwave out towards three AI’s who fell to the floor as she fried their circuits. “Watch your back.”

Bucky laughed, crushing another bots face in his hand.

“It’s kind of difficult when--” he let out a huff of air as he stomped on a robot, “--you’ve not got all of this going on,” he mimicked the hand gestures she would make when using her powers and she laughed.

“Just be thankful that I saved your ass; again,” she grinned.

Meanwhile, Kathryn and Thor managed to remove the rocks surrounding them, and with one another there to help, they were in the open again.

“Do you require a forewarning, fair maiden?” Thor questioned sarcastically, spinning his hammer at his side with a smug grin.

“You shut your mouth,” Kat shot back, pointing towards him before grasping his side and squeezing her eyes shut. “Okay; go-- oh my god.”

Before she knew it, she was up on the bridge, swaying on her feet as Thor and Cap helped a woman whose car had tilted and fell from the flying city, and then grappled and uplifted another green car.

“You can’t save them all,” one robot said, approaching Steve with red eyes only to be impaled with his Shield that he tore out afterwards with his magnetic wristband, to which the robot flew off. “You’ll never--”

“You’ll never what? You didn’t finish!”

Court turned with a knife in a robots chest, beaming at the sight of Kat just as Thor dropped the green car behind them, landing atop it with a thunk.

“What, were you napping?” Steve joked, following Thor as he moved into the thick of the action.

“Yeah; where the Hell have you two been?!” Court asked, exasperated as she, without looking back, swung her arm around and stabbed another bot in the head.

“Got buried under tonnes of rock,” Kat cracked her knuckles before booting a robot in the chest, catapulting it into a building a few yards away, “just the usual.”

“Ah,” Court grinned, sensing the sarcasm. “Well, it’s good to have you here.”

“It’s good to be here!” Kat exhaled, lifting a car over her head and throwing it upon a handful of robots, watching them crumble underneath the weight with sparks and wires flying.

Thor was upper-cutting one bot before propelling himself into the air, spinning around and shooting back the minions that came towards him. One of the bots smashed into a truck, which exploded upon impact and created wider devastation for the bots.

“Showing off, now?” Kat retorted though he had no time to respond before Ultron came whizzing past, grabbing the god by the throat and shooting off into the distance. “Oh.”

Meanwhile, Tabitha and Bucky stood back to back, taking down whatever approached them and not allowing the other to take a hit. It was exhausting, but they eventually cleared out their area.

“We’re all clear here!” Bucky reported.

“We are not clear! We are very not clear!” Steve said back, drop-kicking his shield into the torso of a bot and watching it falter to the ground in pieces.

“Get your asses over here then!” Kat heaved, unearthing a telephone pole and using it to take out Ultron’s minions as if it were a game of baseball.

“We’re coming to you,” Clint stated.

And then with the further help of the twins, Hawkeye, Tabitha and Bucky, the team were able to clear the area until they had an open window to get civilians to a safer area whilst the next wave of robots set off again.

“The next wave’s gonna hit at any minute,” Rogers said. “What’dya got, Stark?”

“Well… nothing great, maybe a way to blow up the city,” Tony responded. “That’ll keep it from impacting the surface if you guys can get clear.”

Courtenay paused, her shoulders heaving with heavy breaths as she placed her hands on her hips, listening to the conversation intently.

“I asked for a solution, not an escape plan,” Rogers pressed.

“Impact radius is getting bigger every second,” Stark retorted, no lace of hostility to his tone, “we’re gonna have to make a choice.”

“Fuck,” Courtenay cursed, her hands trembling as she made a rash decision, pressing a button on the side of her glasses and watching as the call icon appeared in front of her eyes. “Come on, pick up, pick up, oh my god, Peter!”

“Hey, Court-- how's the big fight?” Peter asked casually.

Courtenay swallowed. “Peter, I-- I don’t think we’re gonna make it out of this.”

Peter paused, hesitant. “W-what?”

“It’s… the city, it’s flying, and the only way to stop it from doing any more damage is if Stark blows it up and if he blows it up then we all die and then--”

“Hey, hey, calm down. Take a deep breath,” Peter ushered, though there was panic evident in his own tone. “You’re going to make it, alright? Don’t be talking like that.”

“Oh, Peter,” Courtenay felt herself crumple as a tears fell from the corners of her eyes. “I’m not, I-- this is it. There’s nothing we can do.”

“Please don’t say that,” Peter cracked, his voice wavering. “You know I can’t do this without you.”

“I wish I’d have been able to spend more time with you,” Courtenay panicked, “because now it's all coming to an end and I regret not being able to speak to you in person and oh god this is awful.”

“Please,” Peter begged, “it can’t happen like this.”

“I-- I’m so sorry,” Courtenay swallowed back her emotions, “as little time as we got to spend with one another, just know that they were the best times, okay? You’ll remember that, won’t you?”

“I promise, Courtenay,” Peter sniffled, “I love you.”

Meanwhile, Kat shielded her eyes while staring over the horizon, Tabitha and Bucky by her side. They were all speechless, empty and exhausted, unable to muster up the courage to address the situation at hand, as they all realised that this… this was probably it for them, for all of them.

However, with a sudden surge of wind and the sound of battering turbines, a quinjet large enough to support the whole city appeared, and the crackling sound of Fury’s voice overriding their comms spoke out loud and clear.

“Glad you like the view, Romanoff,” he said, “it’s about to get better.”

Courtenay’s hand covered her mouth, and she let out a relieved sob.

“Peter!”

“What?”

“I might-- Jesus, I might make it,” she choked, “please stay safe.”

“What, Courtenay--”

She ended the call, unable to muster up the courage to say ‘goodbye’ or ‘I love you’, in fear that it would be her last.

Tabitha grinned, her fingers intertwined with Bucky’s who exchanged a facial expression similar to her own as their hair whipped backwards from the strong wind currents.

“She’s dusty, but… she’ll do.” Fury said.

“Fury, you son of a bitch.” Steve grinned.

“Ooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?” The director snapped back.

“This is SHIELD?” Pietro asked, an unmistakable smile on his face as he squinted towards the sun.

“This is what SHIELD’s supposed to be.” Steve nodded.

“This is not so bad.” Pietro decided, watching as carriers were ejected from the aircraft and transported to the city so that people could mount them and be flown to safety.

“Let’s load ‘em up!” Steve commanded, turning back into the city to gather the civilians up, the team following close behind. They ushered people out of the safety of buildings and back onto the streets, where they bustled hurriedly towards the carrier ships.

“Go!” Kat hurried, encouraging people by pressing them forwards.

“Thor, I got a plan!” Tony yelled.

“We’re out of time,” the god of thunder responded, his voice husky with urgency. “They’re coming for the core!”

“Rhodey, get the rest of the people on board that carrier. Avengers? Time to work for a living,” Stark rushed.

In a quick moment, the rest of the team had gathered at the core, smashing away any approaching bots that set on a straight path towards the drilling device. They gathered around it in a protective circle, eyes and hands focused on nothing but the opposition.

“Romanoff? You and Banner better not be playing hide the zucchini,” Stark said.

“Relax, shell head. Not all of us can fly,” she shot back, a yellow-truck crashing down the street as the rest of the Avengers were left to assume that it was her. The moment it arrived at the church she bounded out, seemingly calm. “What’s the drill?” She asked.

Tony pointed towards the core. “This is the drill. If Ultron gets a hand on the core, we lose.”

The Hulk stormed into the church, smashing away a stray bot as the team turned to face Ultron who hovered, looking smug despite his metal features.

“Is that the best you can do?!” Thor yelled, poised for attack.

Ultron let out a deep laugh, lifting his hand to summon an army of bots that came with his gestural command.

“Oh, dude,” Kat cussed.

Steve huffed and glared over at Thor. “You had to ask.”

“This is the best I can do,” Ultron said, outstretching his arms to present his handiwork. “This is exactly what I wanted; all of you against all of me. How can you possibly hope to stop me?”

“Well, like the old man said,” Tony began, looking over at Steve. “Together.”

Tabitha, Court and Kat shared a confident look, nodding at one another. Hulk let out a mighty roar, almost that of a battle cry, and the swarm of robots came storming for them all, some flying, though most sprinting and climbing.

Everyone released every ounce of energy they had; hitting and kicking and shooting, whilst Tabitha exerted purple flares from her hands and tore the bots apart mentally, crushing and distorting their metal bodies with her mind. Kat beheaded robots with her bare hands whilst Courtney pulled her minigun off of her back, unleashing a hailstorm of bullets that both pushed the bots back and ripped their vibranium flesh apart.

Vision and Ultron battled above them, slamming into one another in a flurry of fists before Vision blasted a golden surge of power from his gemstone onto the AI, pushing him out of the church and onto the ground. Thor and Ironman moved to either side of Vision, blasting lightning and energy bolts towards him as he struggled against the force.

Courtenay turned her minigun, hammering the bullets down onto him with a borderline psychotic grin on her face.

“Yeah, take that, bitch,” she laughed.

Ultron, struggling to his feet, waved his arm about. “You know, with the benefit of hindsight--”

But before he could finish, Hulk lunged forwards and catapulted him into the sky. The handful of remaining robots followed after him, realising that accessing the core was not an option.

“They’re trying to leave the city,” Thor realised, twisting his hammer in his hand.

“We can’t let ‘em, not even one,” Tony panicked, “Rhodey!”

“On it. Oh no, I didn’t say you could leave! War machine, coming at you!” Rhodes laughed, though he was caught off guard at the sight of Vision, who was entirely new to him. “Okay, what?”

“We gotta move out. Even I can tell the air's getting thin,” Rogers commanded, nodding towards the rest of the team who were heavily-breathing and winded. “You guys get to the boats, I’ll sweep for stragglers, be right behind you.”

Clint looked towards the drill, “what about the core?”

“I’ll protect it,” Wanda volunteered. “It’s my job.”

“Nat-- this way,” Clint encouraged.

“I’m coming with you,” Bucky decided, nodding towards Steve.

“It’s not safe,” Rogers denied, “stay put and make sure everybody gets on the boats securely.”

Although hesitant, Barnes nodded, taking off with Kat and Tabitha. Bucky and Tabitha joined Nat and Clint in the car whilst Kat ran and jumped beside them, landing with a thunk ahead of one of the carriers whilst Nat sprinted off to take care of Bruce.

Without Nat, the other three loaded themselves onto the boat, remaining on their feet whilst they ensured that the civilians were strapped up and ready to leave safely.

“Costel!” One woman yelled, fear in her tone.

Clint immediately perked up at her words, looking out for any stragglers in the town.

“We were in the market,” the woman added, clutching her arms to herself as she panicked, a stream of blood dribbling down from her eyebrow. “Costel!”

Clint, upon spotting the stray boy, sighed to himself and took off into a jog before any of the others had a say in it. Pietro watched steadily, his eyes narrowed and focused, making sure danger was kept at bay.

“Thor, I’m gonna need you back in the church,” Tony reported.

“Is this the last of them?” Thor asked Rogers, watching another four pedestrians rush into the carrier.

“Yeah,” Steve answered, breathless. “Everyone else is on the carrier.”

“You know, if this works, we maybe don’t walk away,” Tony said.

“Maybe not,” Thor stated, opening his mouth though his words were cut off abruptly by the jagged sound of an overhead jet pummeling bullets into the Hulk, who roared with rage.

Clint turned, the young boy Costel in his arms, and held his breath. Making a decision, he turned his body. Pietro, upon realising what was about to happen, rushed forwards.

“Pietro!” Tabitha called out, her fingers brushing against his arm as he shot forwards and into the line of fire. Instantly, she lifted her hands, pushing a forcefield forwards and feeling the breath leave her body as she repelled the force of the bullets.

Once the jet vanished, Tabitha relieved her mind of the pressure and fell to her knees, catching her breath and swallowing as she stared through the ash and the rubble. She felt a wave of relief swarm over her as she watched Pietro and Clint haul the child out from the bus he toppled over as a form of cover.

Steve helped them get into safety and Pietro, his face pale with fear and his side bloodied with a gunshot wound, fell into a hug with Tabitha who had made a last minute decision that had, ultimately, saved his life. The two, although partially strangers, sobbed.

They all finally settled into the carrier, though Thor shot off into the air to get to the church as Tony had requested. Moments later, Wanda appeared, looked as fear stricken as he brother.

“Pietro!” She yelled, snatching him into a hug, “I felt it, I felt you d--”

“It is fine,” Pietro reassured, clasping her face, “she saved me,” he nodded towards Tabitha, hunched over with exhaustion, and smiled weakly at the younger twin who had nothing but gratefulness on her face. “We are safe.”

“Oh, it’s been a long day,” Clint complained, collapsing back into three, free seats whilst holding a wound on his side.

Once the carrier doors were locked securely, it set off into the air and headed for safety. From the window, Kat watched the crack of lightning meet the core, and suddenly the city of Sokovia was nothing but lumps of rock that fell into the water below.

And despite their incapability to save Sokovia, they saved the people.

#mcu trio #thor x reader #bucky x reader #peter parker x reader #bucky imagine #thor imagine #peter parker imagine

[likesrandomstuff]

The Drama of the last 2 Weeks

This story is mostly for Kayla, @daringswordfights, and is too long to message. I will probably delete it once you’ve read it. To everyone else, my last two weekends have been crazy, and I need to vent. To summarise, the girl I’ve been crushing on for two years got herself a girlfriend.

The story starts back in February of 2015. I moved into College to start Uni. I met Kat in O-Week and we had a great chat. After my first conversation with her I walked away saying to myself that if I got a crush at college it would be her, or one of two others that I’ve got to know (The other two are now some of my closest friends). First semester happens; I slowly start coming out as Bi, like one person here, another there, told the majority of my school friendship group in one go. Life’s great besides from my homophobic sinkie (like roomie, but we have our own rooms but share a bathroom). Now in July, people start coming back from mid-year break. It’s odd not seeing people for a month when you’ve basically seen them every day for four months, and didn’t know them before then. Kat comes back and I’m super excited. Chatted to her about how she was and the great deal I got on my new shoes. Leaving that conversation I evaluated why I was so much more excited to see her than everyone else combined, and I hit me. I had a crush on her. Part of me was patting myself on the back for predicting this five months ago, the other half was lost at what to do now as I’ve never had a proper crush before.

I kept the crush to myself for a while, processing everything. Told my Day Kid Friend (non-College student), one of my closest friends I let them guess. She got it as I apparently I talked about Kat too much. My school friends found out at a picnic in September in the park near our old school. They were so excited for me, and this crush became the main topic of discussion at every group meet up for the next six months. There was the excitement and novelty of my first crush, but they were really supportive. From September onwards I started trying to find a good time to tell her. I’ve read too many slow-burn fanfics and just wanted to move on, one way or another. Finding a good time was a challenge. Do I wait for end of year, where I didn’t have to see her for three months if things went badly, or before then so if things didn’t we’d have time to start something?

My sinkie found out I had a crush, and was very desperate to know who it was. She offered to tell me hers’ in exchange, which I didn’t take up as I wouldn’t know who it was and I frankly didn’t care that much. I let her guess, but due to homophobia she just got very confused. Uni got busy, so I decided to tell her on the day I moved out. At 9 am I messaged her saying I was leaving at midday, and to come say goodbye if she wanted to. I also sent this message in a group chat. I expected visitors to come evenly over those three hours, but instead I got ten people all at 11:30. These people were still in my room when my parents arrived, and Kat came down after them. As I wasn’t going to reveal everything in front of a stack of mutual friends and my parents, my opportunity passed. Kat and I hugged goodbye, promising to catch-up over the summer, as for college friends we lived relatively close (3 hours by train).

Kat and I messaged so much over that holiday. More so then I had with anyone else on Facebook in the four years I’ve had it. It was Saturday the 14th of December. I was on the train heading to Melbourne for Taylor Swift’s last 1989 concert. Kat and I were messaging, and she was also on the train to Melbourne. I had my niece’s birthday party, which I had time to go help set-up, but didn’t have to, and she had some free time as well. “This was it” I thought. Started messaging friends for support, told the friend who was joining me for the party before we both went to the concert that it was happening and she said she’ll give us space. I was so nervous, but ready to go. I waited for Kat at her platform. We met up, I went with her to get flowers for her event, and we went to get lunch. I was ready to say something over lunch, but it didn’t happen. We started chatting to the people in line behind us, also in Melbourne to see Taylor, and ended up sitting at a table with them. There was no time to tell her before my friend found us and I had to leave for the party. I vented to my friend so much on the train to the party.

We didn’t get another chance to meet up; Kat got a job and I went away on holiday, but we were always in contact. I stopped breathing when it came up on Facebook that Kat had liked a Buzzfeed post, “19 photos that definitely won’t make sense to straight girls”. I had to let that sink in for a solid four hours and chat extensively to a friend before asking Kat about it. I wrote “If there is anything you want to tell me, I’m still here for you”. Her response was “Haha I was thinking of my softball friends when I read that!” followed by her favourite emoji, the winking tongue out. Mixed emotions for sure, but at least I could breathe again.

Second year of Uni and College came around. We played softball together for the second year. We didn’t live in the same block anymore, so our spontaneous stairwell conversations were no more. My birthday rolls around, then it’s Easter. Tuesday the 29th of March I’m having a catch-up/ one week late birthday party with my school friends after seeing Batman vs Superman with one of them. Over lunch my friends ask me about Kat, cause of course they do, and I say I need to tell her asap as it’s been months since I’ve first tried to. They say they have my back, and even suggest in the group chat afterwards that I should have some liquid courage, really confusing the friend who has missed all the catch-ups where Kat was discussed. 

I message Kat asking if we could talk when she’s back at college as there’s something I need to talk with her about. She was very curious and asked if everything was okay, and I just said there was something I needed to say. We plan to chat on Friday, which was the 1st of April. There is a text-post going around saying that Aprils Fools is the best day to tell your crush that you like them as you can say it was a joke if things go badly. Sadly our chat had to be postponed to the next day as Kat ran out of time before a 21st birthday party. Although it would have been easier to do it on Friday, I’m glad I didn’t have that back-out option. Around 11:30 on Saturday morning I went to Kat’s room. We chatted for half an hour before a lull in the conversation meant it was time. I told her I was Bi and that I had a crush on her. She handled it really well. She said she didn’t have time for a relationship, but was amazed with my courage and glad I told her. We then went back to talking for another half an hour before heading to lunch. I messaged her after thanking her for taking it so well. She reiterated her comments from before and asked if I wanted to talk to any of her softball teammate about it (the stereotype is so real), but I declined. My crush didn’t go away completely, but it had stopped being a prime motivator for me to do things.

In the year and a bit since I still see her occasionally, but not the multiple times a week like first year; even less as she’s moved out of college for this year. I sent her messages over summer, which didn’t get replies, which was such a turnaround even as a friend. She was talking a technology break over summer, which I don’t know how that is possible, but I was working full time for most of the break to be too concerned. Kat comes back to coach softball this year, I see her at my 21st birthday party, and other random times, and then last weekend happens.      

Her housemate, who is also a good friend of mine, holds her 21st at their place. It’s a small gathering; 10 invited, 6 came. When I walk in I see Kat’s wearing flannel. When I sit next to her on the couch I see she’s wearing this ring (x) it has a gap to signify the gap in marriage equality. At the end of the party I ask for a tour of the house as it’s my first time there as I missed the housewarming (went to the footy instead). On her desk is a mini gay flag. Kat’s always been a strong supporter of gay rights, so I’m not super surprised, but all three things are a bit too much. I didn’t get a good chance to chat with her during that party, but we both had another 21st that night, so I wasn’t too bummed. I didn’t chat to her that night. There were a lot of people there I haven’t seen in some very long times, and Kat left earlier than I did. Again I knew we had another 21st on the Saturday just passed.

Kat organises a group present and there is someone I don’t know in the group. Kat and this birthday girl had some subjects together last year, so I just assumed it was a mutual friend from there. The party was a three hour drive from Melbourne, and my car arrived at 7. By 8 everyone was wondering where Kat was. I ask others who she was driving with, as most of our friends invited were already there. A friend said she was coming up with her capital G girlfriend. I was blindsided, and tried to keep my visible shock to just “I didn’t know she had a girlfriend”. I find out very little before they arrive, but do message my friends back home for moral support. They ring me up, and our conversation is hampered by terrible reception, but they help calm me down. By the end of the chat I head back inside to find that Kay and her girlfriend have finally arrived, three hours late, and in each other’s arms. I stall as long as I could, but it was cold outside. I go in and find Kat alone, have a nice chat for a couple of minutes. Nothing about the gf or her sexuality was brought up. 

This party was 80’s themed. My friends who I was just on the phone with had giving me glow-sticks for my 21st that I’d brought along. I offer them to Kat, and she takes some. Later on I find the gf is wearing a couple and it hurts. I avoid them the rest of the night. There was a lot of PDA. So much so how they were sitting could not have been comfortable. They played with each other’s hair, shared their drink, held hands constantly and I even saw them kiss. I got stuck playing Never Have I Ever with them, and I want to bleach my brain. I went to bed a bit after 2am, and I hadn’t seen them for a while before then. To get back to Melbourne I left very early, well before anyone else sleeping over was considering getting out of bed.

It’s been a week now since the reveal. I spent most of Sunday sorting through my feelings. I’m happy for Kat, and I’m sure her girlfriend is nice as I trust her taste. It’s just not the situation I thought I’d find myself in. There’s nothing on either of their Facebooks suggesting that they are together, but the gf knew no-one at this party, besides Kat, and it was a 6 hour round trip, so they must be pretty serious. I don’t know where to go from here. Writing this out was pretty therapeutic though.  

[katherinathewise]

Well it’s me (Cat), back with a 3rd character because I have no self control... I’d like y’all to meet Katherina Jones, daughter of Athena. I’m still figuring her out; so there will definitely be more added to this when I think it up; but please enjoy what I have for now. Like always, more under the read more. (Also note: I’ve never played a Caity Lotz FC before; so please be patient with me while I search gif hunts and get used to the gifs I’ll be using.)

KATHERINA JONES, who strongly resembles CAITY LOTZ, has made Ceres Centropolis their home. They are a 26 year old DEMIGODDESS/DAUGHTER OF ATHENA and have been in the city for FOUR YEARS. They have been known have ENHANCED HEALING, AGILITY, AND RESILIENCE. They are known to be + WISE & + COURAGEOUS and - OVERBEARING & - ARROGANT. If you’re lucky, you may catch them working at GREY’S GAMBLE as a MERCENARY.

BACKSTORY

(triggers: death, suicide)

She was born to a man named Patrick Jones and a woman named Athena. Her mother died during childbirth (*cough*lies*cough*); so she was raised by her father up until he committed suicide when she was just a toddler.

At the tender age of 2, she found herself being sent off to an orphanage, along with a box of belongings her father had put together for her to open once she was deemed old enough.

In the orphanage, she felt worthless and like she didn’t quite belong; so she turned to bullying the other children as a way to cope (especially this boy named Miles). Making herself superior to the others made her feel like she was actually worth something.

Then there was something else that made her feel like she didn’t quite belong; but then again, it made her feel superior too. By the age of 8, she’d come to notice she had a tendency to heal faster than the other children. And she also seemed to be more resilient.

It was also at the age of 8 she was deemed old enough to view the contents of the box left to her by her father. There wasn’t much inside: an apology letter, a list, two photos, a baby blanket, a book, and a stuffed owl.

At the age of 15, she was finally adopted.

More about time with adoptive family goes here

She got a full ride to Harvard University and attended there as a dual applied mathematics and philosophy major for her undergraduate studies.

Upon graduation, she opted to move away from her adoptive family’s home and move to Ceres Centropolis where she currently resides and works as a mercenary at Grey’s Gamble. 

When it comes to her birth mother, she only knows the woman’s name and that she was apparently Greek. And since ‘Athena’ isn’t a super uncommon name, she never thought anything of it... Until recently.

She’s starting trying to find out more about both her birth parents (but mostly her mother, as she at least had something from her father to start with); so who knows what she’ll discover...

FUN FACTS

While she mostly only answers to Katherina, she will sometimes answer to Kat, Kate, Katie, or even Kit. Don’t call her Kitty unless you wanna get punched in the face.

She is fluent in both English and Greek.

She’s highly skilled at mathematics and has even been considered by some to be a math prodigy. 

She’s a trained martial artists and is a black belt in both karate and taekwondo. 

One of the items in the box from her father was a list of '10 Things to Accomplish Before Turning 18′. She accomplished all but one.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Adoptive Family Members — I would love to have some of her adoptive family members, ideally parents or siblings; but even adoptive aunts, uncles, and cousins. I think working out the dynamics between them could be pretty fun.

Older Half Sister — Another daughter of Athena, perhaps? Maybe she knows the truth about their mother and is waiting for the right time to reveal it, maybe she doesn’t. But regardless, somehow she and Katherina have crossed paths. And even though they don’t know they’re sisters just yet, they’ve become friends.

And Then There Is All The General Plots/Connections… — Friends, Enemies, Neighbors, Colleagues, etc.

MORE TO COME

I’d also love for her to somehow get involved with the Time Bandits or another group of time travelers...

#vi.intro #this is very rushed. i'll come back to add more/edit later