#FOLLOWERS. DO YOU LOVE ME. SEND ME AN ASK I AM SO DEPRIVED OF HUMAN COMMUNICATION

[captiandirtnap]

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SOMEONE. ANYONE. SEND ME AN ASK AND TELL ME WHAT TO DRAW

[lestappenforever]

hi angel c:

i wanted to introduce myself, mclaren video anon is here *shyly waves his hand*

I'm from Czechia so English is not my first language and not even near to it so I'm really sorry if this ask gonna be a mess,, 🥴

I also wrote some Lestappen dynamics asks (for example this one https://www.tumblr.com/lestappenforever/728150895813115904/i-love-lestappen-dynamic-i-love-how-similar-and?source=share), Oblivious Charles Leclerc idea (https://www.tumblr.com/lestappenforever/728236675926556673/i-was-thinking-about-how-the-topic-of-oblivious?source=share), quatar shit-show and a lot of other screaming 👉🏻👈🏻

also I'm the one who's engi-nearing his limit at uni. I'm feeling better now! even though I have some tests already coming next week and I really need to study hard but how am I supposed to do that when LESTAPPEN HAD THE PADEL DATE AND NOW IM CRAVING FOR CONTENT???? I really REALLY HOPE that we'll have some photos. please. Universe, HEAR ME OUT IT'S LIFE OR DEATH SITUATION we need that.

yk I came to F1 cause of cars. I love cars with all my soul. for me it's the most beautiful creation of humanity. cars. cars. and I was like ok cars racing adrenaline and now? here I am screaming about some gay married couples again. I thought it would be my straightest interest. but who am I kidding? 20 men on a grid. how that was supposed to be straight?????

to this ask: I KNOW RIGHT??? IM STILL NOW OVER IT IT'S DEFINITELY THE LOWEST I HEARD HIS VOICE EVER https://www.tumblr.com/lestappenforever/731046319552151552/i-just-want-to-say-remember-that-anon-who-said-in?source=share

Mona, I love you and your blog. I'm so grateful that you're posting all of these, that you're so open to anons and it's so comfortable here😭 THANK YOUUUU THANK YOU THANK YOU you're the best you're the loveliest you're the sunshine and the bless to this fandom

and to end this long ask wanna say about your fanfics. angels roll the dice is a masterpiece. cause of fucking course it's a masterpiece. and the 2nd part of it is my FAVOURITE fanfic about the marriage. every time when I'm feeling lonely I open it and reading. the shoe game is the best part, I'm laughing so hard even though I'm reading it for the 20th time. and the 3rd part... oh my god. I was a bit scared that it's gonna be angsty but I was like "Mona wrote that. C'mon, Denis, you need to read that, whatever it is, it's gonna be a masterpiece". and it was. realistic and so Lestappen-coded. that was beautiful.

19 times the grid saved Lestappen? I couldn't drink my coffee cause of laugh. Let them sing? shit that was so HOT. Lap dance with THAT dirty talk? I was dead. Not Fucking Leaving? couldn't survive that. Mona, you're absolutely my favourite writer on ao3. I don't have enough words to express all my THANK YOU's for you

I hope you're okay, I love you and you are the best

*gives a hug if it's permitted*

Oh my God, Denis (love your name, by the way), hi, hello! It’s so nice to be able to put a name and a blog to some of my absolute favorite anon asks, so I'm so happy you decided to send me an ask off anon. ❤️

I love Czechia - it’s such a beautiful country. And don’t you worry, your English is great and absolutely nothing you ever need to apologize for.

I'm so happy to hear that you’re feeling better about uni, and I am absolutely certain that you’re going to nail your tests next week! And I am so with you about needing more Lestappen content following that padel date - we have honestly been deprived, and I'm crossing everything I have that some high quality photos and videos will appear in the coming days.

Cars are truly beautiful, wonderful creations, and I very much understand why your love for cars would bring you to F1. And I'm so glad it did, because I wouldn’t be having the pleasure of talking to you right now if it wasn’t for that! Even if it did turn out to be as straight of an interest as you had anticipated. 😂

Denis, I don’t think I can express in words how much your ask means to me, and how happy I am to know that you enjoy my blog and that you feel welcome and comfortable here. Because you are so very welcome here - you and everyone else who would like to come into my ask box, on anon or off, or anyone who just want to scroll through my blog in silence. You are so lovely and wonderful and kind, and your ask has truly made my day. I love you. ❤️

And I am so, so incredibly happy and grateful for your kind words about my fics. Nothing makes me happier than knowing my writing can bring such joy to others. Knowing that my words can evoke such emotions in my readers is such a huge honor.

I'm your favorite writer on AO3? 🥹 Please excuse me while I go sob from overwhelming happiness for a while.

Thank you so, so, so very much for this ask, Denis - I love it as much as I've loved each of the asks you’ve sent me on anon in the past, and I hope you know that you can come into my ask box whenever, about whatever, or send me a DM. I hope you’re having a beautiful Saturday, you are absolutely wonderful, and I love you too. ❤️

And I'll happily take a hug any day. 🤗

[theoppositequeens]

they say home is where your heart is set in stone

For @kanejweek Day 5: Love (atypical affection & domesticity).

Pairing: Kaz/Inej

Rating: T

Title from Gabrielle Aplin’s “Home”.

Summary: Three of the Dregs witness unexpected moments of love and domesticity.

THEY SAY HOME IS WHERE YOUR HEART IS SET IN STONE

sleeping

Anika is about to knock on the doorframe of Kaz's office.

His light is still on, and the door is ajar, so she thinks he might be up. It is rarer, these days, that Kaz is actually awake when she comes home from the Crow Club with that evening's numbers. On his few days off, when he entrusts the club to her, he is usually asleep or gone, and she reports to him in the morning. Most often, his days off coincide with a ship pulling into berth twenty-two, and Anika imagines that he and Inej are usually off on a rooftop somewhere, making moony eyes at each other. Those two are so disgustingly in love with each other, even if they aren't the couple for public displays of affection. Anika doesn't even think she's seen them touch more than ten times.

Now, they are touching.

Through the slim gap between the door and the doorframe, Anika has a good view of Kaz's sofa. It is an ugly brown plush thing he installed after too many late nights when he couldn't be bothered to climb the stairs and slept in his chair instead. Those work nights do not coincide with a ship being in the harbor. More like it being absent.

Either way, Kaz and Inej are curled up on the plush monstrosity, still in full dress, Kaz's arms wrapped carefully around the Wraith to keep her on the sofa. They look calm and peaceful together, like they belong. A lock and a key. Balance.

Inej is the key, Anika decides, and moves her fingers from the wood where they stopped millimeters from the frame. Her boss must be truly tired to have forgotten to lock or even close the door, and he deserves his rest. Anika does not want to take over the Dregs in the case he perishes of sleep-deprivation, after all.

And they look so disgustingly cute together, so she retreats silently.

cooking

Rotty is nursing the worst hangover in his life – funny, how he thinks that anew every morning after he's gone out drinking for a night – and he stumbles into the Slat's kitchen around midday, blinking blearily at the bright sunshine streaming in through a narrow window. He is led here by the smell of food, fried and good and hopefully enough for him too. Their cook usually takes pity on him, because he brings her fresh vegetables from the markets – stolen of course – when he is having a slow day and there are no fat pigeons around to be targeted.

"Any for me?" He asks hopefully as he turns the corner and spies the pan full of eggs and fried potatoes on the stove.

"Sure," someone answers, but he is too busy cringing at the sound of his raspy and hoarse voice to notice. As he sinks into a chair, a plate of food is set down by him, and he mutters a distracted thanks before he digs in. The meal is heavenly. Cook must have done something new with the spices. They remind him of Suli food that he once ate with Inej at a small market wagon, and he reminds himself to praise her after he has finished inhaling his food.

He largely ignores the normal noise of the kitchen, and when he looks up to thank Cook, he sputters. The fried potatoes don't feel quite as nice in his windpipe, so he coughs them out discreetly, trying not to be too loud. He doesn't want to spook his boss, who is drying dishes right in front of him.

He rubs his eyes once.

Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the Barrel, is still drying dishes in the Slat's kitchen, dressed in an impeccable suit.

Inej passes Kaz another plate from the bucket of clean water that they dip the dishes in to wash off the suds, and Kaz dries it with one of the blue-checkered towels.

"– so then I told him that my ship, my rules, and he straight up ignored me. Until Sara kicked him where the sun doesn't shine, of course. Why am I hiring boys as deckhands again? Men are nothing but trouble."

The Wraith is rambling in a way Rotty rarely sees her do: Inej Ghafa is a private creature, not as much as Kaz, but enough to be reserved. Kaz nods seriously when Inej continues to tell him that men are trash and how this is the third male hire that has caused her issues and how it is going to be an all-woman ship from now on. Plus Specht. Because apparently, Specht doesn't count. Rotty will have to mention that to his old-time friend when he next sees him.

"And you don't count, of course," Inej says, as an afterthought. "You aren't like them."

Them seems to resonate deeply, and Rotty immediately thinks of the scumbags who frequent houses like the one Inej came from. He, himself, has never felt the need to pay for attention or a body. He likes his partners interested, thank you very much.

Clearly, Kaz is some type of safe haven for Inej. Rotty has watched the two of them circle each other like sharks, never sure if they will draw first blood or jump each other. Suddenly, their tension dissipated, and now he rarely focuses on them, since they have clearly sorted themselves out. Either way, it no longer interferes with his work.

Standing here, now, Rotty feels happy. Surprisingly happy. Somewhere deep in his crooked heart, he has always felt loyal to and protective of his boss, but he didn't realize he could be this proud. Proud to serve under this Barrel boss who is ruthless but cares for the Dregs, sometimes making reparations to the Slat out of his own pocket. This man who can make a woman who has been abused in the worst way feel safe, who agrees with her opinion that many men are trash but he is not one of them. Rotty likes knowing the Dregs are a good sort of gang when it comes to the Barrel with Kaz in the lead.

Inej has made Kaz more human, and he laughs when she hits him playfully with a splash of water a minute later.

At this point, Rotty realizes he has been sitting here and gaping at them for several minutes, and as Inej packs up her spices he remembers to praise her for them food and then slip out quickly before Kaz has time to think about the fact that Rotty has been there for quite a while.

Kaz may be in love with Inej, but he still dislikes being seen acting like a normal human being.

Inej's food is a magic hangover cure, and Rotty will beg her for the recipe later.

homecoming

Docking at berth twenty-two when dusk gathers is always a messy affair. First of all, pulling into the harbor that late, when the Council of Tides has almost stopped letting ships in for the night, is nerve-wracking. Then, they have to complete all the normal unloading before darkness falls.

Specht watches as the ship is secured, and directs the others on autopilot as they scurry to collect the waste that has been stored onboard to take it to the appropriate containers in the harbor and unload the legitimate cargo they have on board from Ravka, to conceal the fact that this ship hunts slavers. He sends one of the lousier girls a sharp glare when she seems ready to skulk off and watch the others work, and then eyes the docks carefully until he finds his captain.

Inej always has a private moment when they first dock, and usually she spends it on a dark corner of the dock, greeting Kaz Brekker.

There are two shapes almost intwined in the darkness, sharing an embrace.

Specht has watched them move from awkward hellos and goodbyes, to hand-holding, to soft touches on a cheek, to half-hugs, to hugs, to kisses. Their progress has been gradual, and now he can no longer anticipate what kind of greeting or goodbye he will witness. Tonight is a hug night, and when Inej bounces onto their ship a few minutes later, cheeks red and a smile on her face, Kaz follows.

It is a bit confounding still to see Kaz help Inej unload a shipment, like they are a completely normal couple who help each other with their work. Specht knows they collaborate on many schemes as Dirtyhands and the Wraith, that they are a force to be reckoned with, but they are so incredibly domestic sometimes. He thinks he sees a lot more than others do – Inej trusts him, and Kaz seems to grudgingly accept that. Therefore, they do not guard their actions carefully around him, and he has also heard his fair share from Inej about how she misses him and loves him when they are out at sea, months from making port in Ketterdam. She once asked him how she is supposed to stand this, being away from Kaz, and he answered,

"Make the moments on land count."

Inej had smiled like he'd solved a riddle, he'd ruffled her hair and she'd bounded off to sleep. He thinks that moment is the closest he'll ever come to having a kid.

Now he watches as Dirtyhands limps down a gangplank, placing a box in a waiting wagon, and Inej presses a careful kiss to his cheek later as thanks, and in that moment, Specht believes in love.

[gotnofucks]

Protected

Paring: dark!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: How were you to know who’s a monster, who’s a savior when they all hide behind a mask

Words: 4.7k

Warnings: violence, manipulation, dark themes, language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Aged up Peter Parker (obviously). No smut in here, even I surprised myself.

MASTERLIST

+++++

You stared in the mirror, hands clammy as you tried to angle the phone right. The lightening was not perfect, and you twisted, trying to see if you’ll need to turn on the flash. Just as you thought you’d found your position, your phone chimed and you jumped. Clicking on the notification you opened your messages and found another text from the private number.

Be quick

Just above this was the text you’d received 20 minutes ago that had you running into the bathroom and taking your top and bra off within minutes.

Send me a pic of your right nipple

It had started a couple weeks ago with the kidnapping of your boyfriend, Sammy. You didn’t realize he had been kidnapped at first. He worked as a driver for a rich family and they took him away without preamble overnight for visits into next town. You only noticed something was strange when all your calls and texts remained unanswered for two days and you finally made a call to his employers to figure out if everything was okay. It was a shock to realize that the family was in town and hadn’t seen him for two days too. You had jumped into action, barely making sure you were appropriately dressed as you made your way to the police station to report a missing person’s report. You had parked down and were just about to open your door when the first message pinged. You almost didn’t check your phone, but the notification said private number, so you clicked on it. Your world came crashing down.

It was a picture of your boyfriend tied to a metal chair in what looked like a warehouse with blood caking his hairline and mouth gagged. Tears were streaming down his face and you covered your mouth in shock. Another message chimed, this one reading:

Don’t even think of going inside. Turn around and go back to your home

You had whipped your head around, looking out of the window with terrified eyes as you tried to see anyone who looked suspicious or was paying attention to you. Nothing struck you out of the ordinary and you were more determined than ever to go in and file a report when another message popped up.

Go home or I can send your precious lover’s head to you in a parcel

Maybe you should have gone inside, maybe you should have told someone. But when someone is holding a gun to the love of your life, you do what the fuck they say. Common sense doesn’t come into play. Last minute solutions don’t play in your mind. It was real life, not a movie. You drove back to your house in tears, hands trembling. Your boyfriend was not missing, he’d been taken by someone. The drive back home was a blur and you barely made it without hitting someone or yourself. You parked outside and entered your home, locking the door behind. The moment you were in, another text alert:

Good girl

You locked all the doors and windows, the curtains drawn shut. You sat down in the living you, finally finding the nerve to text back.

Who are you? What do you want?

You waited for a reply, your eyes darting around your house. Did the person have camera’s in your house or were you simply followed? Would they really hurt Sammy or was that an empty threat? Should you call his parents? Your parents? Your phone dinged and quickly swiped up to open the text.

I want you to send me picture of your little toe

What the fuck? This had to be some sort of a joke. You were shaking in fear and anger, your hand clutching the phone in a dead grip. You should have gone and made the complaint. It was dark outside now, but you’d go to the police station first thing tomorrow morning. To hell with this person, you will not be scared of them. You took a screenshot of the messages and made sure your house was secure before retiring to your room with a knife. Sleep came late and restless, your worry keeping you from having a sated sleep. Horrible scenarios ran across your mind, each worse than the last.

You woke up early and dressed up. You needed to be at the station as soon as possible, Sammy was in danger. Whoever had him seemed addled in the brain. You were just pouring your coffee in your travelling mug when the doorbell rang. Your heart beat in your throat, your body seizing up in terror. You got your knife from the kitchen, creeping to the door on all fours trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. You leaned up slightly to peep out the peephole and saw a delivery man. He looked normal enough, cranky from an early delivery. You cautiously opened the door a few inches, hiding the knife behind your back.

“Y/n Y/l/n?” He asked and you nodded. He held out a small parcel to you along with a form to sign. You opened the door a few more inches and quickly scribbled your name across the form, taking the parcel with tentative hands. The man walked away without a goodbye and you sighed. Not everyone was out there to get you.

You placed the parcel on the table. It held only the delivery receipt, no other marks on it. It was small, almost like a jewelry box. You looked at the time and thought to open it first. You didn’t wanna deal with sleep deprived officers who refuse to take you seriously at the station. Getting out you scissors you cut the brown paper off and opened the plain carboard box. Inside was a jewelry box like you had expected, but who would send this to you? There was no note and you opened the flap.

It fell out of your hands as you screamed, your hands rushing to your mouth in horror. The thing that had been perched inside like a ring rolled out and fell on the floor, resting at your feet. It was a little toe. A severed, human little toe. And if your hunch was right, you knew who it belonged to. Your phone chimed at that very moment and you swallowed back the bile in your throat when you swiped up.

Next time, listen. I have no trouble sending his head to you.

P.S. Drink that coffee, looks delicious. And be a good girl and forget about the police if you give a damn about your piece of shit boyfriend.

P.P.S I’ll like a pic of your pinky finger

You send him the pic with shaky hands, tears falling down your cheeks.

This is how it went for a few weeks, them asking for pictures of different body parts. Each with a threat of the same part being chopped off Sammy’s body if you don’t comply. Whoever they were, they didn’t call you and you couldn’t call them. You rarely texted, only asking if Sammy was okay and you’ll get vague texts in reply saying, ‘that depends on you’.

The pictures were seemingly innocent enough at first. Your fingers, your knee, your shoulder, hair braided, hair in a pony. But then they got dangerous. The inside of your things, your ass in a pink pair of panties, your nipples. You gave them what they wanted. As long as Sammy was okay, but you didn’t know how long you could continue this. Something had to be done

+++++

You were probably making a big mistake, but you had no option. Police was out of question, but they weren’t the police. Not entirely.

The kidnapper could for some reason follow you everywhere, even look inside your home though you had scoured every corner and found no cameras. You needed people more powerful and they were the only ones who could help. You know they didn’t have time for something this small as they dealt with world endangering events, but you had to try. You entered the Avengers Tower, making your way to the front desk. The lady sitting behind looked kind enough, greeting you politely.

“Hello, how can I help you?” She asked with a practiced smile and you nervously smiled back.

“I uh, I want to make a complaint.” You winced as you said that, your eyes darting around. The lady however gave you a sympathetic smile, slipping you a form to fill.

“You can fill this one, but it may take a while to get to them. They can be very busy” She said, and you nodded, taking the form and going to sit on a couch to fill it out. You gave all the necessary information, adding in that you had picture proof. You hoped it reached someone here who could help, if not the avengers then someone from Shield. You got up to submit it when you bumped into somebody, making them drop their papers along with yours.

“Oh, I am so sorry” you apologized, bending down to gather their stuff as well as yours. A hand reached out to help and you looked up in the eyes of Sam Wilson. You blinked and then stammered another apology that he waved away. He got the papers from your hand, looking over and found your form.

“This yours miss?” He asked as he looked over the paper, his brow furrowing as he read on. You nodded and bit your lip. He turned it over and then looked back at you. “Do you have the picture evidence?” He asked tapping the paper and you nodded quickly. You showed him your phone, with the messages and pictures. He frowned, his handsome face pinched.

“Can you help me? They sent me his severed toe. For all I know he isn’t even alive now.” You croaked and Sam looked at you with kind eyes.

“Y/n, isn’t it?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, this looked very creepy and bad. I’ll take it up to the team okay? See if someone can spare sometime on it. Here, take my card. Call me if they approach you again.”

You almost sobbed with relief, glad that something seemingly good finally happened. You thanked him and pocketed his card, hoping you made the right call. It didn’t matter now anyway. You were in deep. Either the kidnappers find out and threaten you, possibly killing Sammy. Or they piss their pants and leave you the hell alone. You just wanted this to be over.

You returned to your flat with a lighter heart, having a full dinner after ages. You had the avengers on your case. The avengers. The guys who took down aliens and planet-wiping asshats. They will put an end to this, you were sure. You slept better that night too, heinous dreams not plaguing you for a change.

You went to work early that day. Usually your shift at the local clinic didn’t start until an hour later, but you were feeling hopeful. Helping people through the day by stitching their wounds or giving a kid a cartoon bandage took your mind off things. It was a smooth day, almost normal. No more texts from the kidnapper today and if Sammy were home, things would be perfect. You were only just leaving when another person walked in your station, a cut bleeding over their lip. You recognized the boy and gave him a reproachful look.

“Peter, again?” You groaned, your hands automatically reaching for the antiseptic wipes. He came in once every few weeks, battered from one thing or another. You were sure some gang was beating him up, but he never confided. He was your age, studying some cool physics stuff while you nursed here. He was a very regular patient.

“Hey Y/n, can you patch me up. Again.” He said, ruffling his hair awkwardly. You tended to him, being careful not to hurt him even though he barely flinched. He had tremendous pain tolerance and you didn’t wanna know how he built it up. He was a great guy, pretty cool and respectful.

“There you go, all done. Maybe listen to me for once and don’t do whatever it is you do.” You advised, and he sent you a bashful grin that you knew meant your words went in one ear and out of the other.

“Thanks. You look good today, happier. Something good happen?” He asked and you smiled a little.

“I think so. I’ll get to know soon enough. You look after yourself, mkay?” You say and pack up your stuff. You saw him lingering, feet shuffling around so you raised an eyebrow.

“Um, I was wondering if you’d wanna go out for a coffee or something?” He asked and now it was your turn to shuffle uneasily.

“Peter, I’m really flattered. But I’m in a relationship already.” You told him and saw him frown.

“You have a boyfriend?” He asked confused and you nodded. Sammy was still your boyfriend, regardless of everything. You weren’t going to go around dating behind his back. He will come home. You were sure he will. Peter’s face fell and before you could say something he nodded and left. You felt horrible, but you hoped he will come around.

You got a call from Sam right before you went to sleep.

“Hey, did the kidnappers contact you?” He asked and you said no. He hummed and spoke to someone in the background. “Can you come over to the tower tomorrow? We’ll have a look at your phone, try and track the number?”

You agreed to meet him there at noon and a smile spread on your face. Things seemed to be progressing. Maybe the kidnapper was too scared of the avengers to make any move. You hoped you’ll get Sammy back soon.

You reached the tower with ten minutes to spare. You had taken trouble dressing up today as you didn’t know if you’ll meet more avengers. It was a blessing to have them and you prayed things will turn out okay. Sam met you in the lobby, waving at you.

“Hey, come on up. We’ve got a tech team waiting” He said, and you followed him to the elevator. It seemed to rise up and up, and you got nervous. You were glad you hadn’t deleted anything from your phone but worried what they will say about it. You had after all sent nude pics to a stranger.

“Hey, don’t worry. It’s a safe space.” Sam promised you and you tried to force a smile.

You exited with him in what looked like a huge office space, with cabins and sleek furniture everywhere. He led you to the cabin at the end and held the door for you to enter. You took a step inside and almost stopped short. When Sam said tech team you didn’t know it would mean Black Widow and Tony Stark.

“Come on in, we don’t bite.” Tony teased you, waving you forward and you stumbled. They both shook your hands and offered you a seat where you sat gobsmacked. You kinda sat like a goldfish until manners and mobility returned and you greeted them with a high pitch hello.

“Hey kid, you don’t need to worry. We got a free day today and Wilson said a young lady needed saving. Romanoff loves the ladies you know.” Tony winked and Nat threw a stapler at him that he caught. You nervously smiled and then they got to business. You explained everything to them, showing them the texts and pictures.

“Hmm, it’s a private number. Let’s see if we can do something about it.” Nat said and connected your phone to her laptop, clattering away on the keys. As she did, her brows drew together and she huffed. “Oh, this one is good. Not good enough for me though.”

She kept at it for a few minutes and when her device beeped her mouth parted a little. She moved her head away and blinked before passing the laptop to Tony who looked baffled. He started his own clattering and you tensed. The laptop beeped again and just then the door opened. You looked up to see…a man wearing the spiderman mask.

“Hey kid, you know you can take that thing off in here.” Sam said.

“I’m good. I need to leave soon anyway.” The voice behind the mask said and it almost sounded familiar. He looked at you and waved and you returned the gesture. Of course, Spiderman’s identity was a secret. You were probably the reason he was wearing the mask in the first place.

“This doesn’t seem right.” Tony mused and he and Nat exchanged a look.

“What is it?” You asked and Sam echoed your question.

“Well, the signals of the phone trace back to this tower.” Tony answered and he seemed as bewildered as you.

“What? Like a shield agent? That would explain how they could spy on her without too much trouble.” Sam mused.

“You mind if I see Mr. Stark?” Spiderman asked and Tony passed the laptop to him, leaning back in his seat.

“I’ll have Friday run a scan all over the tower. We’ll have an identity soon. But damn, this is disturbing.” Tony said and you felt anticipation rise in you. You’ll have the name of the kidnapper soon, and after that Sammy can be home.

“Uh, Mr. Stark, something is going on here. I – I swear I didn’t do anything.” Spiderman called out in a panicked voice and Tony and Nat crowed around him.

“What the fuck? How did this happen?” Nat scowled, her face almost buried in the screen as Tony did whatever he did there. “This…this can’t just happen. Tony!”

They looked up at you genuinely confused as you stared back with wide eyes.

“It seems like someone just deleted all the data from the number, including the trace. That shouldn’t have been possible.” Nat explained and you willed your tears away. All the proof you had gathered was lost, including the only lead you’d had for months.

“Hey kid, don’t cry. We’ve got you, okay. We know its someone from inside the tower. We’ll keep a watch.” Tony assured you, patting your shoulder in a fatherly way. You sniffled and shifted in your seat, all the hopelessness coming back.

“I think someone should keep a watch with her.” Nat suggested. “Whoever they are, we know they are good. Must be some top shield agent. A stakeout at her place, that should clear shit up.”

The others nodded and you cringed. You didn’t want to trouble them or have your privacy invaded this way, but if that was what it took to get Sammy back, you’ll be okay with it. So, you agreed.

“I’ll see if Wanda is free.” Sam suggested when Spiderman stood up and waved goodbye.

“Now wait here Wilson, we got our friendly neighborhood hero right here. Kid, you look after her. Your people skills are depressing and maybe you’ll cheer up a bit.” Tony said and you saw Spiderman wring out his hands.

“Mr. Stark, I’ve got college.”

“She’s got work.” Tony looked at you and you nodded. “See it will be perfect. Go on, pack an overnight.”

You gave out your address and went back home, aggressively cleaning before Spiderman arrived. You felt kinda bad for him since you knew he didn’t wanna be here, but well, job’s a job. He arrived just as you’d finished shoving your stuff under the bed and you opened the door to him still wearing the mask.

“Hey, make yourself at home. I’d give you a tour but its only one room, bathroom and kitchen.” You said awkwardly, his red face looking around.

“It’s chill. I’ll make my bed on the couch. You don’t need to worry. I’ll keep you safe.” He promised. His voice wasn’t very rough, and you thought he must be somewhere around your age.

“You can uh, take your mask off if you wanna. I swear I won’t tell anyone” You promised but he shook his head.

“I’m fine. Please, don’t bother. Go about your day as usual. I’ll make myself scarce.” He set his bag on the coffee table and took out his books. Some complicated physics stuff. Well, Tony Stark wouldn’t just have a stupid rookie in his team.

You and Spiderman (Seriously, you can just call me Erek Trapper) had a simple dinner. You knew he’d given you a fake name, probably just an anagram but you didn’t push him. You valued your privacy too. He wasn’t too much trouble, always polite and never in your way. Only once you found him in your doorway watching you sleep, but he very embarrassedly told you that he needed an extra pillow to sleep. You gave him one after which he didn’t appear again.

He stayed for a week before shit happened. You were alone at home when your phone buzzed. “Erek” was still not back from his classes and you were making dinner. You picked up your phone and almost dropped it in fright. A private number.

Such a silly dumb girl you are.

Another buzz

You’re not good at taking orders, are you? We’re gonna work on that

Buzz

And here I thought you cared about this pathetic boy

Buzz

I should have really sent you his whole leg instead of the toe

Buzz

Look in your kitchen drawer

You turned around, sweat running down your neck and tremors hit you as you pulled out your drawer. You screamed, bloody fingernails inside a cup greeting you. You stumbled back and your windows started rattling all at once. You sat huddled in the kitchen, screaming with your head between your legs as knocks echoed around your apartment, multiple doors and windows banging. You sniffed and suddenly looked across the hall where a fire burned in your room.

“No!” You couldn’t get up, frozen in shock. The doors kept banging, smoke filling the house and your lungs, blurring your vision. Your throat was hoarse and dry and you coughed, trying and failing to stand up with support of the counter. You knocked against the drawer, the cup of nails tumbling down over you making you flail and howl.

You crawled away on shaky feet, feeling more exhausted than ever. Your lungs burned and you coughed, losing feeling of your body. The door was banging louder than ever and you shut your ears, tears making their way down your face.

It opened with a bang, a man nearly flying inside and to your side. Cool hands gripped your face and tapped your cheeks, urging you to keep your eyes open. You were in his arms, being lifted outside from your home.

“Mr. Stark, no, I got there in time. Yes sir. Taking her with me. Bring her to the tower? Yes sir. She’s okay – I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. Gonna be swinging with her.” He spoke to someone.

Air rushed against you and you barely opened your eyes before shutting them again. You were flying from building to building, only one arm around you keeping you safe. You hugged him tight, pressing your face into his neck.

“We’re almost there, Y/n. Damn it! I knew I should have controlled the drugs.”

You didn’t understand what he said and as the swinging motion grew frantic, your eyes shut.

+++++

Beeping of a machine greeted you and your eyes opened to the view of a hospital room. A tube was in your arm, a tv playing softly in the background. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and as your memories flooded you, you stood up. The beeping increased and a door opened to let in a man in middle age, with soft salt and pepper curls.

“Hey hey, its alright. You’re safe. You need to lay down.” He said. He looked so familiar and your eyes widened as you recognized him as Dr. Bruce Banner.

“I – what happened?” You asked. Before he could answer, Spiderman walked in and took the seat by your bed.

“I’ll let you guys talk. I’m going to be with Tony, Pete. Call me if you need something. And for god’s sake, take this goddamn mask off.” Bruce chided and left.

You looked at Spiderman who slowly took off his mask and your mouth dropped open. These brown eyes and hair.

“Peter?” You gasped and he nodded, abashed.

“I’m sorry I had to hide like this. I was going to let you know.” He explained. His eyes widened like he really really wanted you to understand.

“You’re Spiderman? So that’s where you got all those cuts from” You said, and he nodded. You raked a hand through your hair and winced when they tangled in some knots. “Thank you, Peter, for saving me. The fire, I – I don’t know what happened.”

Peter took your hands in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. You frowned, trying to take your hand away but he resisted.

“Of course, I saved you. Sammy would have killed you otherwise.” He remarked and you started.

“Sammy? He’s here?” You almost jumped out the bed and Peter pushed down on your shoulder.

“Y/n, you don’t understand. Sammy was the kidnapper. He…he faked it.”

Peter was speaking but not making any sense. Why the hell would Sammy do that? You saw his bloodied pictures, you saw his torn off toe and fingernails.

“You’re mistaken.” You whisper but Peter shook his head.

“No, of course you’ll believe that. Sammy worked as a temp here last year. He got into Shield’s database and has been using that information to torture you. He faked it darling.” Peter said and pressed another kiss on your hand.

“That’s a lie. He never worked here! He was working for a family downtown!” You shouted and Peter nodded at you.

“Yes, but Friday’s data can be manipulated, and people paid off. They will never testify to knowing him.”

It took you a ridiculously long time to come to terms with what Peter said. His fingers were caressing up and down your arm, lips pressing soft kisses on your palm and wrist. You tried to wiggle it free, but he squeezed hard and you cried out.

“Don’t struggle, I don’t wanna hurt you anymore. I almost added too much hallucinogen to the smoke. You really scared me baby. Don’t do that again.” He scolded you and your eyes brimmed with tears. He wiped them away, cupping your cheek and you turned your face away.

“You?”

Peter nodded, his other hand playing with your hair.

“You were always so sweet Y/n. So nice to me, never asking too many questions. Being kind to me when I was beaten up. I have wanted you for months but then you kept talking to your friends about Sammy and it made me so sad. So, I took him away, kidnapped him. I tried to give you a closure, stage it properly. I would have killed him and sent you a picture, consoled you after his death. I asked you out, remember, and you still turned me down. But then you came here, to Mr. Stark. That day I barely managed to corrupt the filed on his laptop, they were so close to finding me. And well, I didn’t even have to manipulate him into sending me at your place. That worked out so smooth. Now, all the evidence is in play. Sammy will be indicted for conspiracy and attempt to murder. And you and me, we can be together.”

You opened your mouth to shout and his hand was promptly there, blocking all sound.

“Shh, don’t baby. I know you’re scared. I know. But Sammy is still with me. I can do anything. Right now, I’ve only cut off a toe and his nails. He’s still breathing. I think he’ll have a way better life in prison than in a grave, yeah?”

Peter leaned down and kissed your tears away, and when he removed his hands only sobs escaped your mouth. He cupped your face, looking so kind you doubted if whatever he said actually happened.

“No one will come between us. You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours.”

He pressed his lips to yours and you closed your eyes in surrender.

+++++

Taglist: @shooting-star-love @what-is-your-wish @littlegasps

Taglist is open 

[dancingintheraindreamingonday]

Trouble in paradise - Part 4

Summary: This part takes place 5 months after the blip. Things get difficult when you and Bucky get a guest.

Warning: non; just fluff

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x angel!reader

Author's note: Took me ages to write that. I’m introducing you to two new characters. ;) Thanks again for everyone who is reading my story. English is still not my first languages

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3

Bucky felt weird, deprived. It has been 5 months since the blip and now everything was different. He wasn’t in Wakanda anymore, reading all those letters you wrote to him.

Steve wasn’t there anymore. He stayed in the past and Bucky knew the reason. Steve loved you so he couldn’t stand to see you happy with Bucky. He fled from the painful reality into a past where you weren’t present. 

You and Bucky moved in together one month after the big war. It should have been awkward to move in with someone you barely knew but it wasn’t. Everything with you was easy and harmonic.  And Bucky enjoyed the levity. 

5 years ago, after the snap, you started to work as a teacher. It didn’t matter that you had no qualifications. The schools were so desperate because of the sudden disappearance of several teachers and you were fantastic. You still work there and to everyone else you and Bucky seemed like a normal couple. 

Bucky just finished therapy when he noticed a person with a hoodie who was following him. 

He slipped into an empty alley and ambushed for the person to come.  Bucky didn’t need to wait long for it. 

He attacked the hooded figure pressing it to the wall. A soft squeal left the mouth of the person. 

„Who the hell are you and why are you following me?“ 

„I… I mean no harm.“ The voice of a woman spoke, timidly and softly. 

The figure raised both hands to the sides of her hood and pushed it a little bit back, but it was enough for Bucky to be stunned. He could see the (y/h/c) hair shining under the afternoon sun. Her hair reminded Bucky of yours. Glossy, soft and so slick, that the fabric of the hood went slithering down. This girl in front of him looked like you. The same (y/e/c) eyes and the same small nose. Just the lips had another shape-they were slightly thinner. Without doubt, the girl looked like  she could have been your sister. 

„Who are you?“

„My name is Charlie and I’m here because I really need your help.“

„Why do you think I’ll help you?“

„It’s HYDRA, and angels. They are targeting my family.“

„I don’t believe a single word you say. HYDRA doesn’t exist anymore and why would I even care for your family.“ 

„Because… I can’t believe I’m telling you this. You are my family. You are my father.“ Bucky let go of the girl like he got burnt. 

„I’m not a father. I don’t have a child. You’re completely mad.“ 

„Yeah, you’re right. You are not a father and you don't have a child yet but one day you will and that kid will be me.“

„So you’re saying you're from the future? You’re out of your mind.“ Bucky started to walk back to the main street, leaving her alone.

„I can prove it.“ Charlie hurried after Bucky. 

„When you can’t sleep at night, mum makes you hot chocolate and reads a book to you. And every time I have a nightmare you do the same procedure.“

„That doesn’t prove anything.“

„Two weeks after the blip you bought an engagement ring for mum. You carry it in your pocket and you wait for the perfect day, the perfect moment to ask her. And you told me that one day you woke up and just knew that this particular day would be the one. Here.“ The girl was searching in her bag. She pulled out a picture. 

It was an indescribable strange feeling to look at a picture of something that hasn’t happened yet. The picture showed you and Bucky on your wedding day. You both were kissing each other. It was a soft yet freeing kiss. All these years of waiting and longing were put into this kiss. Bucky wasn’t sure if others would interpret the same thing or if this was just his current feelings; still waiting impatiently for the to come. In the background he saw Sam and Pepper and another woman who he hasn’t met yet. The laughed and clapped happily their hands. 

Bucky sat down on a bench, that was nearby.

„Am I… am I a good father?“

„Of course you are. You are the best.“ Charlie lay her hand reassuringly on Bucky’s.

„So what’s going on in the future?“

„A lot. It’s pure chaos. The war of the angels isn’t up there anymore. They now live on earth, they are fighting on earth. And they have multiple allies.. HYDRA or SWORD. They are after us. You and mum are desperate and helpless because you both don't know how to protect our family. So mum thought about sending me to Olympia… to Ikaris.“

Bucky snorted. He didn't like the Eternals and especially Ikaris, who was a handsome and powerful man. But it was his arrogance and his closeness to you that made Bucky despise him. Every time Ikaris came to visit you, which happened on a regular basis since the Blip, Bucky felt minor in his presence. Like a loser. Even Sam and Steve didn’t like Ikaris. They met him when he came to warn you about Thanos upcoming arrival. „He’s the Prime Eternal“, you always said to Bucky. „Of course he’s a bit arrogant but he’s also sincere, loyal and fair. I’ve known him for so many years, I’ve stood side by side in his war against Apocalypse. I trust him, and you can trust him too.“ 

„Wow, even in the past you can’t stand him. Anyway, we didn't make it to Olympia. They knew we were coming, Michael and Rafael were already waiting for us. So you and Mum had no choice but to fight. You gave Capt… I mean Sam the stone and just said 2023 and that I should look for a prophecy? And then Sam and I tried to flee but they were everywhere, so he gave me the stone and suddenly I’m here.“

„What stone?“

„This one.“, Charlie showed Bucky a small green stone. 

„That’s an infinity stone! Where did you get this?“ 

„Don’t ask me! You gave the stone to Sam. I don’t know where you got this. But mum can’t know about this. She thinks, angels shouldn’t time travel, because we could misuse this power. “

„Put that away. If someone sees you with this you’ll be in danger.“

Bucky met Charlie every week this week which didn't get unnoticed by a certain person. 

On the first day, it was a coincidence that you were there as well. You just picked Morgan up from Kindergarten. Morgan Stark was the daughter of Tony and Pepper and even thought you never were really close to them, one day changed this. You visited Tony and Pepper and suddenly Pepper went into labour. Complications came up and Pepper had to fight for her and for her baby’s life. But it had been your angel powers that saved both of them. Tony never forgot this and he made you the godmother of Morgan. You hated this name. According to you, no angel should be called a godmother or a godfather. 

The first time you saw Bucky and her you didn't really think about it. But you were confused that Bucky didn't mention the woman he met this day and you couldn’t help but to be suspicious.

The next following 3 days you saw Bucky and this woman sitting too closely for your liking on a small bench and talking vividly with each other. 

„Is that Bucky?“, Morgan looked at you as she pointed with her small pointing finger in the direction where Bucky was sitting. 

„I think you’ll be the next Sherlock Holmes. C’mon, lets say hi to Bucky and his friend“

You were nervous and an uneasy feeling spread in your body. 

„Hey, Buck.“, You grinned at him, recognizing how surprised he looked.

„What are you doing here?“

„Picked Morgan up.“ A strange silence grew between the two of you. That's why how you started to observe the woman, that was sitting on the bench. She was truthfully gorgeous. A fact that you didn't appreciated at all. 

„Hi, I’m (y/f/n).“ You extended your right hand.

„Hi, I’m uh.. Charlie…“

Her hand was shaking and sweaty like she was nervous and when you touched her hand you felt her powers, her angel and you didn't like it at all. You pressed your lips together and faked a sweet smile. „Nice to meet you.“

You looked away from Charlie and into Bucky’s deep ocean blue eyes.

„So, how do you met each other?“

„Well… we… met… in therapy.“ Bucky stuttered.

You nodded slowly your head. „Are you sure or do you need another minute to come up with a better lie.“, you whispered.

Bucky ignored this and pulled you slightly away from the bench. 

„I want to ask you something.“

„Okay?“, Morgan was still sleeping in your arms and you were afraid, that she would wake up from your fast heartbeat. 

„I wanted to ask if you’d be okay with Charlie staying with us for some days. She doesn’t have a home and…“ Bucky was scratching his head as he looked unsure.

„Absolutely not.“

„Why not?“

"What did she tell you? What did she tell you to gain your trust, because whatever it was, it was a lie.“ A pause

„Did she tell you that she’s an angel? But she isn’t a normal one, she wasn’t created by Him. She was born, but she isn’t a Nephilim either.“

Bucky looked confused, not knowing what a nephilim is.

„A nephilim is the offspring of an angel and a human. They are half human, half angel and they are really annoying. But she is a real born angel which leads me to the conclusion that one of her parents must have been a really powerful angel… like an archangel. Bucky, I know every archangel and none of them has a child. She can’t be trusted and there is no angel who doesn’t want to see us dead… with all the chaos we provoked.“

You starred into Bucky’s face. No sign of surprise could be seen.

„She told you. You aren’t even surprised. Since when do you trust angels?“ Shocked about his sudden trust, you opened your mouth slightly.

„Well, I trust you, don’t I.“

Bucky regretted this sentence immediately as he saw your hurt in your big (y/e/c) eyes.

„I didn't mean it like that. I just… this girl has no one, no family, no friends. And I feel bad for her. You of all people know how difficult those times are.“

As a teacher you saw how desperate parents and kids could be. You knew that for several families the blip didn't make it any better, if anything it just made it worse. 

„Don’t compare her life to those who really suffered, Bucky. She is not innocent. Angels are never innocent… I… Who is this girl? Who are her parents? Did she tell you anything about them?“

„She is scared and helpless. She’s still traumatized and doesn’t talk much“ 

You snorted.

„We can get her a hotel room for some time but I won’t let her into our home. That’s my final answer.“

You kissed Bucky on his cheek and walked with Morgan on your arms home. 

„She will kill you.“ Charlie told Bucky as they both walked upstairs to Bucky’s and yours apartment door. „Probably.“ 

Charlie lay her hand on Bucky’s underarm which caused him to look into her face. 

„Please, don’t get killed. Without you, there is no me.“ Even though she just said it jokingly, a warm and pleasant feeling went through Bucky’s body. 

He opened the door and heard you preparing dinner. 

„Hey Buck, I hope you aren’t upset…“, You stopped your sentence when you saw who Bucky brought with him.

„Oh for god’s sake. You’ve got to be kidding me.“

„I know you’re angry with me but I couldn’t just let her stay there in the park.“ Bucky tried to calm you down.

„Please, Bucky. Don’t let her into our home. She has more secrets than the Vatican“ You begged him. 

„It’s just for a couple of days, yeah?“

You shrugged

„Well, you already made this decision on your own and I have no choice but to accept it.“ Bucky leaned down to kiss you but you turned your head away. 

„You’re probably hungry. Sit down, please.“ You offered the girl a seat. Charlie was starving and it had been weeks since she ate a proper meal. 

„What about you?“ Bucky asked worriedly.

„I lost my appetite but don’t worry, I won’t die out of starvation.“ 

You opened the door to a small room. The walls were painted in light blue and small and bigger yellow handprints of you and Morgan could be seen. 

„Is it already morning?“ She asked sleepily, rubbing her eyes with her tiny hands.

„No, you just get an upgrade. Go back to sleep.“ You whispered softly as you carried her to your room and left some minutes later with a pillow and a blanket which you put onto the couch.

„Charlie, you can sleep in that room and you“ You turned your head towards Bucky.

„You can sleep there.“ With your head you're nodding to the red, comfortable couch.

„You’re kicking me out of our bed?“ Hurt and disappointment could be heard in Bucky’s voice.

"Did you really think that after everything you’ve done today I want to sleep next you? 

Good night.“

Two weeks had passed and Bucky was on edge to the therapist’s sorrow. Charlie was still living with you. 

„Trouble in paradise?“ Ikaris saw the blankets on the couch as he entered your apartment. Since the blip the Eternals were at war with the Deviants again. Ikaris used his getaways to meet you, asking for your support in his war.

„Don’t get me started. This woman just infuriates me.“

„Tell me about it.“ Ikaris sat down, watching how you prepare dinner.

„Well… 2 weeks ago Bucky brought this girl home because she’s helpless and innocent.“ The last part of your sentence is full with cutting irony. 

„But you don’t believe it?“ Ikaris dug deeper.

„How can I. This girl is an angel.“ You put a glass of water in front of him.

Ikaris eyes widen due to your confession.

„And not just a normal angel… she has a soul... I felt it when I touched her hands.“

Ikaris swallowed the water and snorted.

„How is that even possible?“ He asked when he gained back his control of his breathing.

„I have no idea and I don’t think that this never existed before. That makes her kinda dangerous. And to be honest, I don’t like how close she and Bucky are.“

„So, you see her as a threat of your security or your relationship with James?“

„I don't know. Even though she is powerful she can’t kill me with her powers, but she has Bucky wrapped around her finger with her annoying angel charm. And that will eventually kill me.“

„Maybe she has the same friendship like you had with Steve. You told me, that in the beginning none of the avengers trusted you, except Steve.“

„That was different. I was always honest.“ You said defending yourself.

„But they didn't know that. You are extremely strong, immortal and gorgeous. You had Steve wrapped around finger.“ 

You crossed your arms, not liking Ikaris’ reasons.

„Here they come“, You mumbled as you heard the apartment door to open.

„Hey, James!“ Ikaris greeted cheekily Bucky 

„Ikaris.“ Bucky nodded

„So, where is the wolf in sheep's clothing?“

„Ikaris, I swear I’ll k…“ You were masaging your temples.

Ikaris swallowed again 

„Damn woman, you didn't mention that she looks exactly like you. Are you both related?“ 

„As if, I’m definitely not related to this.“ Your voice was cold, which earned you an annoyed glance from Bucky

„So tell me, where are you from?“ Ikaris looked interested and attentive. 

„I don’t know, I can’t remember.“ Charlie's cheeks blushed as she shrugged. 

You snorted

„See, I told you. The worst liar on earth.“

„I thought out of all angels you would understand me not remembering my past.“ It was the first time that Charlie really spoke with you and it surprised you as much as it angers you. 

„Are you trying to compare your stupidity with me getting my memories burnt out in the most agonizing pain? You do remember, you're just not telling us. That’s a damn difference.“

Tears welled up in Charlie's eyes as she ran into her room. 

Bucky looked at you reproachfully and went after Charlie. 

„I’ll better go.“ Ikaris stood up. 

„What? No, please don't leave me here. At the moment, you are the only sane person here.“

„If I want to eat with this much tension I’ll just eat with my ex-girlfriends.“ He chuckled. 

„Talk with him. You both love each other, you will find a solution. And maybe trusting her… just a tiny bit would make her more talkative.“ Ikaris kissed you on the top of your head and left.

Bucky leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at you. 

„Why are you so mean to her?“

„No. The question should be: Why are you so nice to her?“

Bucky walked slowly into your direction

„You want to know the truth? She reminds me of you. She’s smart and strong but also extremely vulnerable. And because of that I feel the need to help her, to protect her.“ His voice was deeper than usual. 

Moments later Bucky stood before you and put both his big rough hands on the wall on each side of your head. He cornered you against the wall. 

„I’ve been deprived of you. Of your kisses, of your touches“ Bucky murmured in your ear, his lips slightly touching earlobe. He could smell your sweet, fruity fragrance that made him dizzy. 

„Promise me, that no matter how angry you’re with me, never stop kissing me. I need those. They're keeping sane.“ 

„I promise“

After hearing this, Bucky pressed his cold lips onto your soft and warm ones. His urgent tongue was invading your mouth, as he was pressing himself closer to you. Your hands were in his brown short hair trying to pull his head even closer to you. 

Bucky groaned.

You both tried to catch your breath when you both heard a woman’s voice straight out of the tv.

„Did you know Steve Rogers?“ 

„… I followed his career very closely as an Avenger. I like to think that I modeled my work after his. I liked that what I was doing would make people feel safe. Steve Rogers was the kind of guy who could do that, he gave me hope. Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother.“

Bucky clenched his jaw, not believing what he sees. You covered your mouth with your hands, shocked to see a new Captain America. 

@jessyballet​  @geek-and-proud​ @xlostinobsessionsx​ @cataves​ @intothesoul​ @beminetokeep @ebxny27 @ceo-of-daichi​ @bluemoon-icecream-blog​ @peterbparkersbae​ @bbl32​ @stormi-ames​ @intothesoul​ @avoxzy​ @ferxaniti​ @daughterofthemoon92​ @bebudaful​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @harrystylesandthegoobs​ 

[ur-favorite-queer-queen]

Story

For Maribat March day 24 theme story

Master List 

“You know I remember the day I first saw him. My baby brother.” Marinette announced as all the Batkids formed a circle around her, like they were all students listening to their teacher read a story. Only this wasn’t an ordinary story she was telling, “Mom and Dad came home from the hospital holding a tiny human. I was 7 at the time, yet even after all these years I still remember.” 

“Was baby Bruce cute?” Steph asked. 

“He was the cutest little thing. His eyes were so innocent and curious, and blue, very blue. And when he grabbed my finger he didn’t let go until it was time for my mom to feed him. But baby Bruce was also boring, he did the traditional baby things like cry, poop his diaper, cry, eat baby food, and cry. But you wanna know what wasn’t boring, toddler Bruce.” All the Batkids subconsciously leaned in closer, eager to hear what embarrassing things Bruce did as a kid. “You know, my parents gave us nicknames when we were both toddlers, they called me butterfly, and him rhino.” 

“Why?” Tim blurted out, he didn’t get enough sleep to stop himself. 

“They said that when I was younger, I would float around like a butterfly, floating with the wind. But when my brother was younger he headbutted into everything, it was like his only solution to his problems. I’m surprised he didn’t get brain damage or something, hence the nickname rhino. I was their little butterfly and he was their little rhino. Those were good times.” 

“Wait, but you said that you went to school in Paris, right? So what happened there?” Babs interjected, curiosity written all over her face. 

“Don’t worry Babs, I’m getting there. Soon Bruce was no longer a toddler but a little kid. Now I know he doesn’t remember this, but when it was his first day of kindergarten, he was 5 I was 12, and I went with our mom to pick him up. He was holding hands with this girl, she was adorable, had her hair in pigtails and everything, ran up to me and said ‘Nettie Nettie! This is Josie and she’s my best friend!’ It was the cutest thing, it was only his first day of school and he had a best friend. We won’t talk about her parents or the fact that she moved the following year, but it was so cute in the moment. He had another friend, Logan, for a few years but he moved away too. I’m glad he moved away, he was such a bad influence on Bruce.” Her eyes landed on Cass who was trying to grab her attention.

“Why was this Logan a bad influence?” Cass signed. 

“Think of Logan as that one kid who always got detention, skipped class, didn’t do the work, talked back to the teacher, and always got his parents called in, but in the body and energy of a 9 to 14 boy. I mean, when they were in the 8th grade he tried to get Bruce to smoke. Pretty sure he was sent to military school or something. Good riddance.” 

Damian scoffed, “You still haven’t answered the question of how you ended up in Paris.”

“Oh I haven’t! Dang it I was rambling again. So when I was 12 our parents decided it would be a good idea to send me to an art school in Paris, since I was and am very into designing and our parents wanted to get me out of Gotham. They were going to do the same with Bruce but…” She trailed off and for the first time since they had met her she seemed to close in on herself as a few tears trickled down her cheek, “They would’ve loved you guys, if they got to meet you. I wasn’t there when it happened so I’m nowhere near as traumatized as Bruce but it still hurt.” She brought her sleeve up and wiped the tears off her face. 

Dick got up from his spot and hugged Marinette, Cass went over and did the same. 

“Thank you guys, man that was such a downer. Here I thought I would be telling you happy, silly stories about Bruce and now I’m crying.” 

Dick and Cass took a step back to give her more room and Cass signed, “You might not have been there, but they were your parents too.”

“Thank you Cass, now who wants to hear about how Bruce tried to impress a girl for the first and last time?” 

“Hell Y-” Jason was interrupted by Bruce’s voice. 

“Marinette?”

She whirled around and at the doorway stood Bruce, he probably just got home from work.

“Baby Bro! You’re finally home!” She ran over and picked him up in a hug. All the kids' jaws were on the ground, this woman who was a head shorter than Bruce was able to pick him up without any problems. 

“Marinette you can put me down, we’re getting too old for this.” Bruce tried to say with the little dignity he had left. 

“I’ll never be too old to carry you!” Marinette stated, grinning from ear to ear.

“Wait so are you gonna tell us about how Bruce tried to impress that one girl?” Duke innocently asked. 

“Oh yeah,” She ran back over to them, “Her name was Finely and-” 

“Don’t tell them about that!” Bruce yelled at her. 

“Why not?” Marinette challenged.

“Marinette-” 

“No, don’t Marinette me! I refuse to let Kate be a cooler aunt than me! I mean I helped train you for goodness sake!” 

“Wait, you helped train him?” Damian questioned. 

“Well yeah-”

“I wanna hear that story!” Tim shouted, seeming to not be as sleep deprived as he once was mere minutes ago. 

“Wait no! I wanna hear about how B embarrassed himself in front of Finley!” Jason shouted back. 

Soon all the batkids had taken sides on which stories they wanted to hear first and then it was war. Marinette and Bruce watched from the sidelines, one amused, one annoyed. 

“Now look at what you’ve done.” Bruce stated, annoyance and tiredness clear in his voice. 

“Hey I was just trying to give them a good story. They’re your kids so you get the joy of reining them in,” She checked the time on her phone, “Yikes that late already huh. Bye kiddos see you tomorrow!” 

Although none of them heard her over their screams and battle cries. It wasn’t until a full hour later when Babs finally pointed out she was gone. 

“Where’d she go?” Steph asked. 

“Miss Marinette left quite a while ago, Miss Steph,” Alfred answered, appearing out of nowhere as always, “Now I believe it is time for dinner.” 

All the batkids made their way to the dining room, frowns on their faces. When Bruce finally sighed, “She’ll be back tomorrow.” Against his better judgement. 

Marinette only brought chaos with her and left a mess behind in her wake. But in the end she was his sister, one of the only things still standing despite how much his life tried to knock her down, it’d be wrong to ask her not to come back. So with a sigh he sent the text he knew she was waiting for. ‘Your welcome back tomorrow.’

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

Look who’s back from the dead! School killed me but I am back. I think what I’m gonna do is post 2 things for Maribat March despite it no longer being March every time I come back. So day 18 was where we had Little Sis Marinette, now we have Big Sis Marinette. I have not given up on Maribat March, life simply got busy. Hope everyone enjoyed this!

@maribatmarch-2k21 

[lightdancer1]

A preview of the Fire Lord Ursa Arc

Zuko had very mixed feelings about the news of his sister's death. He grieved, yes, but he kept it private. His mother's words and her ambitions for Azula were never far from his thoughts and they sickened him. "She will be yours." At best it meant that she would grow up to be his *slave*, a fawning sycophant deprived of anything but those wondrous fires of hers. At worst.....he could not believe it, did not dare to believe the most dire elements, the view of those words Mai had had when she drew that knife and had shown him precisely why he did love her.

So it surprised him when he was called not into a formal audience but into his mother's office, seeing her weeping and her face ashen.

"My son," she said softly, "you kept asking me why I treated your sister the way I have the last six years since my ascension."

Zuko nodded.

"And I promised you that I would tell you."

Zuko was only thirteen and he had grown far more than most people his age should have done at that age. He had grown enough to know a deep and abiding fear when his mother's voice slipped into *those* tones.

She held to him a scroll.

"These are one of many scrolls your Aunt Hino's written. She's always been accurate, she predicted the day and the manner and the means of your grandfather and your father's death. It was why she fled, she could not believe in the end that the General-Prince if he did figure it out would be her husband rather than the son of Azulon, son of Sozin."

Her nose twitched, and she recited the words that had haunted her since her seizure of power.

'A woman shall stand with fires blue and words unkind 'Doom am I become, dealing death to the worlds, engaged in devouring mankind.'

"That is the fate that your sister faces. To grow to become an elemental destroyer. I saved her from the fate that Ozai and Azulon wished, where they would have wanted her to become precisely that kind of force. I have taught her loyalty to you, and I have sought to teach you in turn to be an ideal figure. The kind of person who if given absolute loyalty would never, ever abuse it."

Her gaze was sorrowful then, and then it *changed* and he marveled at the change even as he felt internal screaming within his head. The kind of screaming that had followed that Incident at the Summer Solstice upon their visit to Hira'a when *something* had loomed in fog near their hometown and Azula had been drawn into the fog.

And then had emerged *changed* for a time. The primordial instincts of humanity's ancestors confronted with a force of devastation, the fear he'd known with his grandfather, and his father. There was a sorrow he felt deep within but for all his maturity he was too young to understand why it was there, only that it was.

"Your sister is not dead, Zuko, regardless of what anyone says. Hers is a fate to be an elemental destroying force, a thing of Chaos and Disorder. When, not if, she reveals herself I will send you to bring her back."

She took the scroll back and looked at it mournfully.

"Never let anyone tell you that I did not love both of you, Zuko. It was your Grandfather's words that threatened your life when you were seven that led me to do what I did to depose him." Her nose twitched.

"And I will make the very Gods themselves kneel before me before I allow your sister to become what these scrolls say she will."

She handed her son the scroll back and his eyes narrowed.

"Fires of darkest blue burn through steel, by a will absolute a design to make the world kneel."

*Burn through ste-* His eyes did not flicker toward his mother, long instinct with Father and Grandfather from when he was very young (and he had only been seven at that) taught him how not to do that. There was a sudden dawning *horror* in him as he had that moment of revelation that changed his life inexorably on the same day that had already been a day of changes.

[dadsbongos]

*bows down to you* I would like to know your despair arc headcanons for antag reader! Literally love antag reader so much 😳

ahhhhhh nonny please let me treat you to my adoration, i can’t thank you enough for asking me about my despair arc hcs for antag reader

Request for: Fuck it, not even Hajime anymore it’s just antag reader. Girlboss moment Warnings: fuckin despair arc tings lmao there’s a lot to deal with, face cutting, abuse (emotional, mental, physical) cuz hi junko enoshima, manipulation cuz hi junko enoshima, self mutilation/harm, mikan/junko toxicity, gore, vomiting  ~~~

Headcanons:

🐇Okay so I’ve said it before but!! 🐇She was in that toxic relationship between Mikan and Junko 🐇Junko would make her and Mikan compete for any and all affections just to cause them both despair (which even if “won”, was still denied) 🐇And then anytime she could, Junko would just absolutely berate (Y/n)’s looks and talent, calling the Ultimate Copycat a “fake talent” and “just stealing” 🐇So after Junko died, (Y/n) found her body and cut off portions of her face and replaced them with patches of Junko to “be more like her Despair” 🐇She would find people who wanted to fight for hope and take them in, insisting that she was on their side and would lead them to her house for “safety” 🐇Then she’d just restrain them with Mikan so they could perform experiments and surgeries on them together 🐇Definitely helps Kazuichi build his bigger machines, using the more intelligence she has to make better plans for what they’ll do with them 🐇I imagine that as a copycat antag, she’s got a shitload of charisma so she prolly just gets a load of followers 🐇I’m not saying it’s a cult… but 🐇Probably was the influencer for Nagito’s decision to become Servant 🐇Since he was already serving her all the time pre-despair he decided to join the WOH as their servant  🐇As for when she got captured by the Future Foundation… 🐇Was probably one of the harder ones to capture like Nekomaru and Gundham since she could be the Ultimate at almost anything she wanted 🐇When being interrogated by the Future Foundation she was probably smug and cocky af 🐇A solid match for Byakuya, no joke 🐇Maybe worse, like at least he sort of mellowed out with responsibility 🐇Keeps her mouth tightly shut until they mention anything about her face or Mikan 🐇Because as much as she doesn’t truly romantically love Mikan, she’s not even sure she loved Junko, she does care about the nurse very deeply 🐇So it’s when they mention having captured her that they get any sign of emotion other than cockiness 🐇When they say they have Nagito, that also gets them some words from her 🐇But if they say anything about her face, she has a little breakdown and throws a fit about how she’s better than everyone else in the room and she could kill them all if she wanted and she’s more beautiful than any of them could ever dream to be 🐇Didn’t get the chance to help Izuru release Junko into the Neoworld Program, but definitely would have if she could

Stories:

“Would you kill for me?” Junko murmured, bringing a hand up to caress (Y/n)’s cheek, rubbing her thumb over the bone, “Would you die for me?”

“I would!” she cried hysterically, tears already streaming down her face, “Please, say it! Please, just say it! I would do anything for you, please, just love me… I love you! I love you! Just love me, please…”

Her brows furrowed, bringing her gentle touch back to whip the copycat in the face with a backhand slap, “You’re so ugly, a little piggy ripe for the slaughter.”

Sobs pulled at (Y/n)’s convulsing body as she heaved on the ground. Her throat closed and dried up, chest burning and stomach churning until she finally felt her gag reflex trigger. She spat out stomach acids as she wept over a love that was never hers.

“God, you’re so nasty,” Junko kicked her in the ass, knocking her down into her own puke, “Get out and don’t come back until I command.”

“Love me… love me… love me… please… I beg you…!”

~~

“Do you think if I crushed my hand, Junko would care?”

“No.”

“Sonia wouldn’t care if you crushed yours.”

Kazuichi’s eyes flickered from his work to (Y/n), “I know.”

“It’d be…”

“Despairful?”

“Absolutely morbid,” her tone was breathy, a grin easing up over her lips and heart beating faster as she set aside the half-finished Monokuma and pressed her hand onto the metal desk, raising her heavy wrench above her head. 

Kazuichi was quick to copy the moves, eyes wide in anticipation and muscles twitching as his brain desperately tried sending the signals for him to stop.

“One…”

“Two…”

“Three!”

Screams echoed in the warehouse following the sickening crunch of bones under the torturous weight of their wrenches. Kazuichi looked at the girl through his tears, “Again?”

In the midst of her agonized cries, she nodded, blubbering about how horrific the pain was, “Yes, yes, again!”

And so, the countdown started once again.

“One, two, three!”

More bones broken, more pain blasting through their hands for their beloveds to reject everything they were. For the loves they held so dear to look upon them and their injuries and roll their eyes - because they were meaningless in their loves’ eyes.

And that was the despair they craved.

~~

Nagito held out his chain, grimacing when it was Izuru who took it rather than (Y/n) before shoving that hatred back into his chest. Izuru may be a despair-filled faker with no real talent he’d been born with, but he himself, Nagito Komaeda - Servant - was worse. 

He wasn’t worth the air in his lungs. Not even human garbage as he was barely passable as a human being. 

Then, his eyes traveled once again to (Y/n). His dearest and closest friend.

Izuru may have had more talents mastered, but she was natural. She was genuine and had taken the time to master her Ultimate herself while Izuru had them all planted inside his brain as if he had a right to them at all. It was like watching a slacker get all the credit that a hard-worker had already done. Infuriating.

He wished to see (Y/n) ascend into hope once more, he truly believed she could pave the way above everyone else. She had to. She was better than everyone else, it was up to her to return them to hope, once she realized hope for herself.

He believed in her and her hope - once Enoshima’s metaphorical hands were ripped from her spirit.

And he liked to think she had fresh patches of skin that weren't hers, still red around the scars and peeling, were there for the same reason he had a new hand that wasn’t his.

~~

“She’s so much like Byakuya,” Makoto mumbled, watching through the glass as their newest captured Despair, (Y/n) (L/n), tapped her nails against the table her hands were chained to.

“First that troublesome imposter and now her, who do they think they are? They’re not even near being worthy of the Togami name.”

Kyoko scanned the girl, “She was screaming at the guards earlier when they pointed out the scars and patches on her face. Perhaps bringing it up again will get her to talk about some things.”

“We…” Makoto stopped, shivering at the memory of Junko Enoshima’s corpse when they’d found it on the side of the road outside their old school. Patches missing from a bloodied, pulpy face, “We already know what happened. What more could you want her to talk about?”

“Maybe she knows where some of her classmates are.”

“The nurse freaked out when we mentioned her, maybe if we bring Mikan up to (Y/n), she’ll have a similar reaction,” the Ultimate Hope offered up.

Nodding, Kyoko turned towards the door into the interrogation room, “It’s worth a shot.”

~~

Five minutes was all they got, Makoto Naegi said. He was compassionate and understanding and so sweet. Of course, he’d set up a meeting between the lovers who didn’t know if they ever really loved each other.

Mikan was always unusually cold and smelled of lavender with a hint of vanilla, her hands were soft and her lips a lovely shade of pink.

Now, as (Y/n) held the nurse’s hand over the interrogation table and basked in her presence, she could feel how much she’d changed in despair. She was still cold but now she reeked of dirt and blood, no matter how many showers she’d taken. Her lips were much paler; dry and cracked. Hands rough and calloused.

“They told me you took her womb.”

“You took her face.”

“You’ll bear her children?”

“You’ll bear her beauty?”

It was always a fight. It was always a competition. For more. For love. For the affection and attention they’d been deprived of all their lives.

“Have you… tried conceiving?”

There was silence. Mikan looked down at the table and then back up at (Y/n).

Her skin was no longer peeling along the jagged incision sites but her scars were infecting when she’d been taken in and it was obvious. They were puffy and oozed every so often.

She looked back down.

“With who?”

Shaking her head, Mikan tightened her grip on the girl’s hand.

“Why didn’t you get me to do the skin graft?”

“You were probably busy.”

“I would’ve done it anyway. I’d done Fuyuhiko’s eye.”

There was more silence. Stiffness building in the girls’ bodies the longer their quietness buzzed in the room.

“Am I still beautiful…?” it was rare to see vulnerability in (Y/n).

“Almost like our beloved herself.” it was rare to hear a lie from Mikan.

It wasn’t the scars or the blood or the skin patches, it was the act of how she’d gotten them. Scars and patches didn’t make a person ugly, but stealing pieces of a dead woman’s face and using them as your own did.

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

I have a request for you, if you don't mind <3

Imagine, on the other side of the Kingdom, something very bad happened and it requires urgent intervention of the Prince. Diavolo is finally back, and he's absolutely fine. MC, overwhelmed with emotion, literally jumps on him, hugging him tightly, - "you're back! Papa, i was so worried about you! I'm so glad you're okay..!"

How do you think the all Obey Мe squad will react?

Thank you <3

This is cute! I hope you don't mind I twirled a few things about it. I've actually seen many people calling their grandpa papa, so I shall take your request and raise to you a bit of my love for found family.

.

Diavolo The Grandpa

"He will be fine right Lucifer?"

How many times have you asked him this same question now?

"For the love of all realms" the first born snapped his gaze at your form besides him "go find something to distract yourself"

You let out a groan as you watch Lucifer walk away to where barbatos was waiting, both of them have been busy for the past 24 hours.

Apparently a rebelious group of demons that were dormant for a long time decided to act up, Lucifer has requested sending his brothers to go terminate them already but Diavolo has opted to try and negotiate first before turning to drastic measures.

"If we want to unite all three realms, first we have to unite hell itself" is what the prince said in response "as much as it is more convenient to just wipe them out, I fear it would only result in other rebelions acting out in protest"

And so Diavolo has choosen to personally go talk to the group, which has resulted in the current situation.

You were wandering mindllessly around the castle (Lucifer has brought you along because his brothers were already going insane with how fidgedy you were getting), trying to distract yourself with the many paintings and sculptures, walking in and out of secret passages, playing with the pipsqueak greed Little D (and sometimes other Little D's floating around) along the way.

You were staring at the front gate of the castle for who knows how long when a voice called out your name.

"Lord Diavolo is on his way back" Lucifer, who also appears to be a lot less stressed than when he first walked away, gave you a little smirk as he approached the front gate you were staring at to open it "and before you can pester me any longer, yes we are going to meet him halfway"

"We?" You asked

And as if on the cue, Mammon suddenly waves at you as you walk outside "Yo! The others are also on their way. But why do we have to come along anyways?" The question was directed at the first born who was already striding foward.

He didn't even look back in the direction of his brother when he replied "Since I am taking the human to go meet Lord Diavolo, we might as well give him a formal welcome"

It was quite a bit of a workout taking in consideration you, Mammon, and the others who appeared along the way, had to match your strides with Lucifer's pace or you would be left behind.

With every step closer to the destination, the more excited you became, and it was apparent to all the brothers around you.

Everyone in the House of Lamentation knew you were fond of the Demon Lord. With you showing and sending various kinds of videos, images and memes to the prince, spending hours talking and listening to each other go on and on about their life experiences, some headpats here, a supporting, heavy hand pat on your shoulder there. Yeah, it was obvious.

The only thing they didn't expect though was your reply on what exactly you saw him as when they asked.

"He's like a grandpa, a cool and quirky one"

Needless to say, Lucifer had mixed feelings when all his brothers let out various different levels of laughter (some held in and some making sure the first born heard loud and clear) as a reaction to your statement.

Since that point, Lord Diavolo has become Papa Dia.

Sure, everyone would still call him by his title in public. But in private? Simeon would be definetelly the first to just go for it.

And honestly? Diavolo was loving it.

That's why the moment he arrived at the meeting spot and you came sprinting in his direction, ready to tackle him in a bear hug, he was ready to give you one right back.

"You're back Papa Dia!"

As always, there was a few snickers at the name but overall most of them could only sigh in relief.

Diavolo gives you a tight hug, followed by two hand pats on your back before setting you down.

"I was worried!" You lift your head to look at him.

"Yeah, I seriously thought their legs would fall off solely from walking every nook and crany in the house" Mammon chided.

"I could hear their footsteps non stop in the corridor and it was so distracting I couldn't concentrate on the anime I was watching! It was insane!" Leviathan sighed.

"Same, I'm sleep deprived from having to change spots every so often to avoid their restless behaviour" Belphegor yawned.

"I tried to help them with food and they stress ate everything" Beel reminensced sadly on the fact you ended up even eating the leftovers, which he was planning to eat later.

"Me and Satan tried to distract them before giving up" Asmo added.

"So we made them go take a walk with Lucifer outside the house" Satan nodded.

"And I had to bear with them asking if 'Papa Dia' was going to be alright every five minutes" Lucifer felt a ghost of a headache just from remembering it.

You pouted at their comments

"I was worried okay?!"

"And you made that clear to all of us throughout the entire day" Lucifer squinted at you.

Diavolo couldn't help but let out a laugh at their banter. Placing his hand on your shoulder, giving it a familiar squeeze.

"It's nice to be back!"

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Little Blue Eyes

A brief follow-up to this. Eleanor visits Michael during his reforming.

.

She had to hand it to Jason. If anyone had told her that it was possible to break a Janet out of Hell and get her away from an army of demons using just a Molotov, a single demon exploder gun, and a bag of weed, she’d have been very sceptical. But somehow he managed to bring their not-a-girl home, riding back in that hand-cart, grinning away as if he’d gone to a Jaguars game with her.

That was one problem dealt with. Now only a billion others to sort out.

As overjoyed as she’d been to see Janet back, safe and sound, she hadn’t been looking forward to reliving the most awful night of the year by explaining to her why their tall, dandy dressed demon wasn’t at her side, or hadn’t gone to save her.

It was easier to hand her the note that Michael had wrote (or possibly snapped into being after she slammed the door as she was sure even he couldn’t write that fast) before he’d pulled the trigger on himself.

I’m sorry.

I don’t want you to be worrying about how I might betray you or let you down again. If I’m locked up, you’re just going to worry that I’ve escaped. Just leave me in a tank on the other side of the map, or in Janet’s void if you bring her back, or just leave me in the Bad Place. If anything I just wanna ask that you make sure I’m all in there as I’d rather not come back shorter. Also if you can make sure no dogs are around to lap me up, I’d appreciate it.

I only ever wanted to save you all. I’m sorry I did nothing but screw up. I understand if you don’t want me back in the group after I’m back to normal. Please just get Janet back safe, even if it does mean going to the Judge. And give my best to Chidi when he wakes up.

I wasn’t lying about one thing; I really do love you all so much. I’m sorry it could never be enough.

Michael.

Reading the goo-stained letter with shaking hands, she’d struggled not to burst into tears of anger or throw up. Standing in the middle of the empty room, her friend dripping all around her, she’d wanted to scream at him for this being his best attempt to make things up to her - to forking leave her! To take the cowards way out. 

Being angry was so much easier than accepting the guilt of what she had said to him before that moment. Of questioning if she had gone too far...if she’d just taken a moment to listen to him...Usually the dude had trouble shutting the fork up but that night, all he’d done is stand there and take everything she threw at him...until there was nothing left standing. Literally.

If she’d had any idea he would do something so reckless and stupid then of course she would never have said...

But you did know. You knew exactly what he was prepared to do to help you, if it’s what you said you needed. What you wanted.

She never wanted this, she admits to herself, barely a couple months later.

Running this experiment basically single-handed was...not overly difficult. In fact, she was pretty confident in saying they were doing okay, considering the circumstances. 

But it still sucked. She was alone. Again.

Obviously there was no way she was going to have Michael’s goo abandoned in some random, isolated location. She was mad at the guy but she wasn’t a monster...so she told herself. At the same time, she couldn’t give up the role he’d thrusted upon her by suddenly taking up the role of nurse-maid, as hot as she might have looked in the uniform. He’d chosen to do this so she could work without distractions. Without a liability. 

“He sacrificed himself to save me. We’re on our own now. Let’s make it count.”

Just get the fork on with things, same as before. No point in looking back.

Tahani is the one who volunteers. She’s able to separate herself from the other humans without causing too much suspicion, claiming the need for a private getaway up in the hills, deep in the valley, a hidden fancy lodge by a stream, surrounded by peaceful deer and mountains. Definitely not Eleanor’s scene, anything involving the wilderness or even resembling camping.

By the time Eleanor sees her off on a private car Derek conjured up, Michael’s goo already reached its first form. The blind, helpless demon larva showed no signs of awareness of his surroundings, curling up as small as possible, malleable as Tahani swaddled him in her fluffiest blanket. Eleanor was almost impressed at how quickly the sexy giraffe had overcome being grossed out at the slimy, squidgy creature, able to look almost maternal as she carried him into the car. And she made sure to say as much.

Tahani’s heavy hearted response would stick with Eleanor for the next few weeks; “I didn’t reassure him when he asked us if we could ever be friends with a gross monster. Best I can do is show him how much we truly care.”

Ouch. Way to kick her in the girl-nads.

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ve helped out in multiple animal sanctuaries and used to fly out to work with deprived children with my dear friend Angelina...But this is definitely new territory for me.” She’d said as she looked over the larva demon, making the tiniest cooing noise in his sleep (or what they assumed was sleep). “I’ll try my best.”

That was all any of them could do. She’d contemplated attempting to speak to the larva Michael in her arms. What could she possibly say? Could he even understand her?

She was still angry. And yet it was difficult to connect the anger towards the one who abandoned her to the pathetic looking being in the blanket. Best to save all those harsh words on the tip of her tongue for when he was back to being tall and slappable. 

Is he really the one you want to slap?

The question comes back to haunt her more frequently each night that follows, whenever she thinks back on that night, or wonders how the two of them are doing. She and Tahani send letters often via the birds who are happy to act as messengers. They just have to be careful none of the humans intercept them. She lets her gorgeous friend know how the experiment is going and Tahani offers her tips on how to improve John, in particular. Every time she goes to write ‘how is Michael?’ she erases it, chest tightening. Tahani tells her anything important.

The slug monster form that follows the larva is a lot more challenging, she reports. He’s now the size of a Tibetan huskie and just as hungry.

I just let him roam the fields and eat what he can find. Sometimes I have to pull him in on a leash if he doesn’t tire himself out, otherwise I worry he’ll slither off in the night. I try to talk to him but he just grunts or roars at me until I tell him off. I was a little worried he might try to eat me but I found playing music - 80′s classics, mostly - calms him down and makes him rather docile. I don’t think he knows quite who I am or remembers anything. Perhaps it’s like when Janet is rebooted? He may need time to restore his memories, as she did.

Oh, darn, I must finish - he’s in the rose bush again!

Sometimes the image of her prim socialite friend trying to restrain a two-hundred-pound slug monster is so hilarious she can’t help but laugh. Other times she feels more guilt tugging at her soul to go lend a hand.

Is Michael really little more than an animal, in his head, right now? She’s hardly proved herself the best at pet care, though it sounded like Michael overeating was the least of their worries. It pained her to imagine what his head must be going through right now. Is he scared? Confused? Lost? Does he have any emotions other than the instinct to feed?

Does he still blame himself? Does he miss her as much as she...?

The more she sits in that chair in the office, the smaller she feels. It doesn’t belong to her; she’s merely filling it in while he’s gone. She has lunch in silence, remembering the jokes they used to share, the games of trying to aim food in the others mouth across the desk. She remembers him snapping a margarita for her when he knew she needed it most. She remembers his hand on her shoulder. She remembers him finding her at her lowest point, when everyone else had doubted her, turned their backs.

She remembers him, always there. And now she’s lost him.

Was wanting him gone over a stupid lie really worth all of this?

When Jason returns with Janet, on the same day she’s hesitating whether to jump on the nearest unicorn and head towards the mountains, she takes it as a sign. She has no excuse to stay away now - not with Janet back to watch over things, though she’ll probably be paying Michael a visit soon too.

She rides up on the train Janet conjures for her, saving her from trying to figure out how to ride a unicorn without breaking her neck. Something tells her she might have more luck at taming a slug monster than her British friend, not that she has any experience, just a few encounters with the grosser men in Arizona. Besides, it was Michael, at the end of the day. Their Michael.

The same Michael willing to sacrifice himself to help a bunch of cockroaches.

It’s such an idyllic landscape she arrives at. A total holiday card photo, without the snow. Nothing but grass and trees for miles before a backdrop of purple mountains. She looks around, seeing the evidence of devoured flower gardens and broken fences. At least the solid, oak cabin by the stream stood in tact, smoke billowing from the chimney. 

Eleanor is so focused on keeping her eyes peeled for a rampaging slug monster that she almost fails to spot the little person sat on the front step of the veranda.

She frowns. That has to be the whitest child she’s ever laid eyes on. Granted most kids growing up in Phoenix were smothered in fake tan before they were three by their moms, but this is something else. The kid has long white hair, half-plaited, down to the shoulders of the cream dress she’s wearing. Her skin is so pale it’s nearly translucent. Fork, is she looking at an actual ghost?

Wait...She’s a ghost. That really shouldn’t freak her out.

There’s just something so eerie about the little girl, from her sickly appearance to how weirdly quiet she is for...However old she is. Six? Seven? Thirteen? Eleanor really knows nothing about kids, just that they’re usually much louder than this one, sat alone, playing with a set of shining...

Oh.

“Michael?”

The kid looks away from the chain of a paperclips they were linking, gazing up at Eleanor on the gravel path. As soon as she sees their eyes, she has her answer. Even without a pair of glasses, she’d recognise those sparkling blue eyes anywhere. It’s only then that she remembers the third form.

Spooky little girl.

Though far less spooky than she imagined. More...sad.

Despite her surprise, she tries to smile, not knowing how badly she needed to see those eyes look at her again after this past month.

“Hey, buddy. How’re you feeling?” She starts to approach.

The kid drops the paperclips and jumps up to their feet, beginning to tremble terribly, eyes wide as saucers. 

Eleanor stops. Is he afraid? Of her?

“Michael? D’you remember me? It’s Eleanor, dude..”

“‘Hani!” The child cries turning and running inside the cabin. Fork, she knew was bad with kids, but shirt! Eleanor rushes in to follow, unable to hold back.

She enters the cosily furnished cabin to see the pale girl run up to the leg of the six foot beauty standing at the stove and cling to her skirt for dear life.

Tahani looks over from the pot of spaghetti, face fearful at first before lighting up when she spots her friend stood in the foyer.

“Eleanor! What a lovely surprise.” She beams, turning the stove off; “I’m so glad you decided to visit.”

“Wow...You’re kinda rocking the whole rustic single mom look here, babe.” Eleanor says, looking around the place, everything making her feel so warm and comforted from the open fireplace to the heavy air of recently baked bread. 

Tahani looks down to her charge hanging onto her dress, reaching down to pick the little fingers off carefully.

“Well, it was rather nice to have a project to myself, and Derek was surprisingly helpful. Everything else I acquired myself, having learned to survive in the wild from a well known ‘Bear’ friend of mine.” She holds the kid’s hands and bends down to their eye level; “Michael, sweetheart, look who’s come to visit. Remember Eleanor?”

The demon child whimpers, throwing their arms around Tahani’s neck and hiding in her luscious dark hair.

Eleanor bites her lip; “He’s a lot more shy than the slug monster, I take it.”

“Oh, I don’t understand. They were fine with Jason this morning, they were playing video games for hours - he and Janet teleported over briefly to check in on us. So glad they got back safe.”

So Jason gets a teleport but she takes the train? The first time she’s not an immortal being’s favorite to spoil.

Eleanor shuffles her feet, trying not to feel wounded at how terrified her friend currently is of her, when apparently there was no issue with Jason. But then, Jason makes it difficult for anyone to dislike him. Eleanor makes it an open invitation. 

The kid whispers something to Tahani that causes the woman to pick them up.

“Oh, darling, don’t be silly.” She responds, rubbing their back; “That was just a nightmare.”

“Nightmare?” Eleanor asks. Is she the stuff of nightmares?

Tahani eventually convinces the pale kid to go back outside to continue playing while she catches up with Eleanor.

Questions Tahani has about the experiment and the subjects get quickly brushed aside. Eleanor is unable to focus on anything but the image of Michael’s eyes looking at her with so much fear. When Tahani hands her a fresh cup of cofffee, she wants to stick her hand in it, just to scold herself for the sake of it.

“He’s having nightmares? I mean...she’s having...” Eleanor frowns.

“I find it easier to use ‘they/them’, which Michael seems to prefer as well, currently.” Tahani explains; “Most of the time, they’re a calm, affectionate child. Such a welcome change from the beast I was putting up with a fortnight ago, as much as they grew on me. It’s just at night, while their brain is still reforming and all these memories are flooding back...It can be rather distressing. Trust me, it’s heart-breaking just to see them crying and screaming...”

She can’t imagine that recalling centuries of brutally torturing innocents along with the knowledge of why that was wrong is easy for anyone, least of all in the form of a small girl, creepy or not.

“Honestly, the creepiest I’ve encountered so far is them levitating at the end of my bed - and that’s usually when they’re just looking for a cuddle.”

Eleanor smiles a little, Michael never was the best at being a truly ‘frightening’ demon.

“And I’m in these nightmares?”

Tahani sighs; “I suppose the memories of their last night are mixed up with everything else. They just...were worried you were here to say something mean or...you wanted them gone.”

Fork-sake. 

“I never wanted this, Tahani. I never wanted him to...Shirt, I didn’t even think he could, but...” She struggles to hold back tears; “I shouldn’t have come. I’ve just made him...Them more upset. Fork knows what I’d be in for if I stayed for the Teenage Boy phase. He’d probably set my hair on fire as payback.”

Bratty Michael in his fully grown form had been enough to handle. A hormonal one with amnesia was a whole other level.

“Eleanor. Just go talk to them.” Tahani presses; “This whole distancing thing you two are doing to deal with your falling out is dangerous. You’re not going to fix anything by staying away from them. As I kept telling my good friend Courtney when she had a row with my other friends, Lisa and Jennifer - you just need to communicate!”

“Babe, they’re afraid to even be alone with me.” She’s the monster under the bed now. All because she took one sin he committed to heart and forgot about all the good he’d done for her that outweighed it.

“Then stay, there’s plenty of room. Even if it means we swap and you stay here and I return to help with the experiment. Either way, this needs to be sorted out. I don’t believe demons are supposed to be this upset during their growth...You could help with that.”

Can she? She’s not the nurturing type, like her hot friend. She melted her own doll in the microwave as a kid. And she unwittingly talked her own demon bestie into exploding himself.

Tahani’s hand squeezing her wrist gives her some strength. 

“...Okay. I’ll try.” she meets her eyes; “Is Michael the only one allowed to snuggle in bed with you when they’re scared?”

Ten minutes later, she goes to find the creepy girl outside, this time sat among the flowers, being far more gentle with them than her previous slug form was. 

Eleanor approaches slowly.

“Michael? Buddy?”

The kid gasps, standing up again and flinching back. Eleanor raises her palm.

“Please don’t run away. I promise I won’t hurt you...and I won’t be mad.” She says, soft as she can manage, getting down to the ground; “And I’m not gonna make you go away anywhere. I just wanna chat...That ok?”

Michael doesn’t look too convinced, glancing over at the cabin. Looking for the one constant they’ve had, who’s been here for them, caring for them. Where Eleanor should have been, at least sometimes.

Okay. Time for the trump card.

“I got you something. Tahani said you have trouble sleeping. I thought maybe this guy could help?” She produces the minion toy from behind her back.

Michael’s eyes sparkle and he instantly reaches out to take it.

“So ugly!” They cheer, hugging it to their front.

Eleanor chuckles. Still so easily impressed.

“Can’t argue there...Also, I picked up those paperclips of yours. Did you know you can do this with them?” She holds up the chain; “Gimmie your wrist a minute.”

Michael frowns, hiding behind the toy a little.

“I won’t bite, dude. Kids are way too gross to eat. You’re too stringy and bony.” She wrinkles her nose.

They blink at her before slowly holding out their wrist. Eleanor takes the paperclips and links them around Michael’s arm, forming a bracelet.

The child gasps, clearly thinking they’ve seen it for the first time; “Holy motherforking shirtballs.”

“Damn, you kiss Tahani with that mouth?” That must have been another residue memory tucked away.

Michael sneers; “Kissing is gross.”

“It’s pretty weird if you think about it, yeah.” She concedes, glad they’re at least talking, as much conversation as she can have with a billion year old immortal that’s lost their mind as they regrow in the body of a haunting little girl; “...What about hugs? You like them, right?”

The kid nods, eagerly.

“...Maybe I could have one, someday? If we can be friends? I’d like that...” More than they could know right now. More than anything else, even having Chidi remember her. This...This is just as painful, because she can’t be sure if this is fixable. 

Eleanor crosses her legs as she sits, facing her friend.

“I’m so sorry, Michael. I know...you don’t understand that right now but...I’m sorry for why you’re scared of me...I wouldn’t ever wanna hurt you. Please believe me.”

Trust me? God, she’s such a hypocrite. 

The kid eyes her, up and down, before turning to the flowers. They bend down, picking a few up into a small bouquet of daisies. Michael turns and hands it out to her.

“Oh...Uhh....Thanks...” Eleanor reaches for them.

Michael’s blue eyes flash red. The flowers burst into flames.

“Forking shirt!” Eleanor jumps.

And still the kid holds them out; “Pretty, right?”

A heartfelt laugh tumbles out of her; “...I can tell Jason’s been here.” Or maybe that was part of her friend’s demon nature. Either way, it was adorable. “Thank you, Michael.” she says, taking the flaming daisies. “You know...if you want, I could show you how to make chains out of these? We could make a crown for Tahani?”

“And ones for me and you?” Michael asks, hopeful.

Eleanor’s lip quivers, a sudden lump in her throat. She reaches out to run her palm over her friend’s white hair, soft as it’s always been; “Yeah...Me and you too, bud.”

[fridayfirefly]

Lost and Found [Part Eleven]

Masterlist | Ao3

Despite the fact that he didn't get to bed until 2 AM that morning, Damian still woke up at 6 AM with the sunrise. Sleep deprivation was the last worry on his mind when his Soulmate - beautiful, breathtaking Marinette - was sleeping just one hall down from him.

He met Alfred in the kitchen, already preparing for the meals of the day. The waffle batter was already mixed, coffee was already brewing, and butter was already softening on the counter. "Do you need any help preparing breakfast?"

Alfred shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, but I pride myself in my ability to keep this kitchen under control, no matter how many visitors we have. Besides, I'm sure you would rather spend your morning getting ready for your day with your Soulmate than in the kitchen with me."

Damian nodded. "I'll see you at breakfast, then."

"I look forward to meeting Miss Dupain-Cheng."

Damian left the kitchen and made his way to the gardens, thinking about the night before.

They had gotten back to the Manor at 1:30 AM, too late for the Parisian guests to meet the Wayne family. Damian walked Marinette to her room to let her get some rest, wishing all the while that they could stay up together until the sunrise. Rationally, he knew that Marinette needed her sleep, especially with the drastic time change, but his emotions refused to let her go so soon. However, logic won out in the end, and he kissed her cheek and wished her goodnight. As Damian walked Chloé to her room, taking over for Jason while his brother packed his bags back in his Gotham apartment, Damian asked Chloé for a favor. There was a certain plan he wanted to put into action, that he needed some assistance with. Chloé agreed to help him out and their plan was set: in the morning, Chloé would bring Marinette to her room so that the two girls could get ready together, while Damian brought to Marinette's room a vase of fresh-cut flowers and a handwritten letter asking to take her on a date.

Chloé called his plan "sickeningly romantic", but said it with the sort of wistful smile that made Damian send a text to Jason advising his brother to bring flowers for his own Soulmate. Maybe it was sickeningly romantic, Damian thought over the concept, but he knew that it wasn't a bad thing. Emotions had been difficult for him at first, growing up the way he did, but he now knew better than to try and hide that part of himself from Marinette.

Damian already picked out which flowers to cut days in advance, fragrant purple wisteria and delicate white roses, which he got from the garden before the morning dew had burned off of them. He placed them in the glass vase, arranging and re-arranging them the whole way up to Marinette's room. He knocked on the door, and when there was no reply, he nudged it open. A flash of red by the window caught his eyes, but by the time his eyes focused on the spot, nothing was there. Shrugging it off as a trick of the light, Damian placed the vase of flowers on her bedside table and set down the note beside it. The note, which despite its simplicity had taken several drafts to perfect, read: Dear Marinette, I hope you slept well last night. Breakfast will be served at 8:00 AM. With your permission, I would like to spend today showing you around the city. Once the wedding approaches, I'm certain that we will both be busier, so I would like to get as much time with you now as possible. Sincerely, your Soulmate, Damian

With his plan completed, Damian left the room to go get ready for his first day with Marinette. He quickly sent a text to Chloé, giving her the all-clear to let Marinette return to her room.

Damian had just gotten out of the shower when he saw a note sitting on his bathroom counter. In what was unmistakably Marinette's handwriting, Dear Damian, I would love to go on a date with you today. Sincerely, your Soulmate, Marinette.

Damian breathed out a sigh of relief as the lingering doubt that Marinette might have changed her mind in the last six hours faded away. It is a silly fear, one that Damian wasn't used to indulging in. However, Marinette seemed to bring out all the little human characteristics that the League of Shadows had trained out of him when he was young. A younger Damian would have hated Marinette for it, but in the present day, in the privacy of his room, Damian smiled and let the feeling of relief wash over him.

——————————————————————

Marinette, Chloé, and Nino were all at the dining room table with Jon when Damian entered the room. Marinette brightened up as soon as she saw him. "Damian!" If Damian thought that Marinette looked beautiful last night (which he did) with tangled hair and tired eyes from a seven-hour plane ride, she looked downright breathtaking that morning, in a pretty pale pink dress, with her hair done up in a bun, tendrils curling around her face.

"Good morning, Marinette. I hope you slept well."

"I slept great." A look of annoyance took over Marinette's face. "Even though someone woke me up early on someone else's orders." Marinette's expression shifted from indignation to a bright smile. "I did appreciate the flowers, though, so thank you for those."

"You're very welcome." Damian was pleased that she liked them. He was a little troubled by how intently he was watching her facial expression. "Concerning our date tonight-"

Damian was cut off by the sound of voices coming down the hallway. Richard walked in beside Babs in her wheelchair, the couple having a lively debate about what to do for their respective bachelor and bachelorette parties. "We have to hire one. How often in your life do you get the opportunity to hire a stripper?" argued Babs.

"Alright," conceded Richard, "We get one stripper, and we have him split time between both parties. Now onto decorations - I'm thinking we each pick the decorations for each other's parties, and then it's like a surprise when we get there. And I'm not only saying this because I found the best bachelorette decorations on eBay and I already placed a bid."

Chloé broke the silence that followed in the dining room, as a muffled laugh escaped the hand she had pressed over her mouth. "I'm sorry, but aren't you Waynes billionaires? Can't you afford to hire two strippers?"

"Not billionaires," Tim chimed in as he walked into the room with Connor. "Every time Bruce comes close to being a billionaire, he increases the wages of all Wayne Enterprise employees except for himself and donates a ton of money to charity."

"I suppose we could hire two strippers, but then what if one of them is better than the other. That wouldn't be fair," mused Barbara.

"We could have them switch halfway through, that way we each get the same experience," Richard added.

"How about, instead of arguing the logistics of strippers, you greet the Soulmates who just arrived last night?" asked Jon, with a tone of voice that very clearly demonstrated how absurd he felt their conversation was. Damian had spent too much time with Richard and Babs over the past few weeks of wedding planning - nothing that came out of their mouths phased him anymore.

"Oh, hello Soulmates of my brothers and Soulmate of my brother's Soulmate's brother. I'm Dick."

"Babs," said Babs with a wave.

"Tim."

"Conner."

Richard started pointing to each of the Parisians. "You must be Marinette, Damian's Soulmate. You're Nino, Jon's Soulmate. And you are..?"

"Chloé, my platonic Soulmate," said Jason as he walked into the room.

"I can introduce myself," snapped Chloé, glowering at Jason, who looked a bit sheepish as he sat down in the chair next to her.

Jason picked up his fork and waved it between Chloé and Marinette. "So you two know each other."

Marinette nodded. "We've all known each other since we were kids. Chloé, Nino, and I have been in the same class since maternelle - which you call kindergarten in America. We've been best friends for years now."

"Now that's a coincidence. Both sets of three Soulmates knew each other before they met up with their other halves." Richard nodded, looking the three Parisians up and down.

"Coincidence is putting it mildly. Statistically, it's incredibly improbable. I didn't run the numbers, but I'm sure if I did, it would be in the range of one in a trillion," Tim piped up.

"Good luck, I suppose," said Marinette with a shrug.

"Luck, coincidence, statistical improbability - call it whatever you want to call it. It's still mind-boggling that out of 7 billion people, you three - best friends who go to the same school - end up with Soulmates who are all family."

The conversation turned to other topics as the table waited for Bruce to arrive before they started breakfast. Richard got Marinette talking about her aspiring career as a designer, and it instantly brought Marinette out of her shell. Her passion and enthusiasm were contagious; Damian couldn't help but smile softly to himself as he watched her explain to Richard and Babs the inspiration behind her latest collection of dresses named The City of Lights, which incorporated elements of Parisian fashion throughout the ages, with a focus on finding innovative ways to incorporate light into the dresses. As Marinette was explaining in depth the pros and cons between tea candles and real candles (according to Marinette, an open flame near your hand-crafted creation is a very big con, but she felt so strongly against tea candle that she would rather her dress catch on fire than ruin the integrity of her design), Bruce walked in, wearing a bathrobe with the words World's Best Dad on the back, plaid flannel pajama pants, and fuzzy slippers. Overall, he looked nothing like the intimidating Batman and everything like a regular Dad on a Saturday morning. Damian had to admit, it was a good strategy for putting their new houseguests at ease, especially Marinette and Chloé, who were meeting their Soulmates' father for the very first time.

"Good morning everyone," said Bruce. He grabbed his coffee mug off the counter, filled it to the brim, chugged it all in one go, then refilled it and took it to the table. "What's for breakfast?"

"Pancakes," Alfred replied as he walked in with a platter stacked full of them. "Please don't spill any syrup on the tablecloth, it's a pain to get out. And before you ask, yes, I am talking to you, Richard."

"One time," Richard grumbled. "You spill an entire bottle of syrup on the tablecloth one time, and suddenly that's all anyone remembers."

Marinette laughed. "I take it I'm not the clumsiest person at the table, then."

"I'm not clumsy. I'm just sporadically situationally unaware," Richard defended.

"Clumsy," teased Babs, flicking Richard's nose and stealing the last bite of pancake off his plate. They were so effortlessly domestic, affectionate with each other all the time in a way Damian was beginning to envy. Damian kept his expression still as he sat in internal shock at the realization that he was jealous of what Richard and Babs had together. Damian was a naturally private person; he had assumed he would despise public displays of affection. However, with Marinette, he could see the appeal. Marinette had flipped his whole worldview on its head. Now he wanted romantic outings and for everyone to know that she was his. It was a strange and foreign feeling, but deep down it felt right.

——————————————————————

As breakfast winded down, Damian offered to show Marinette around the house. The first place he took her was to the gardens. Damian knew that Marinette didn't like surprises all that much, so he planned on explaining to her exactly what they would be doing for their date.

"The gardens are so pretty!" exclaimed Marinette. "Is this where the wedding will be held?"

"Yes. The ceremony will be at the gazebo in the center of the rose garden."

"I'm sure it will be lovely," said Marinette with a soft smile on her face.

"For our date today, I was hoping I could show you around some of my favorite spots in the city. If you would rather stay at the Manor, I understand but-"

Marinette cut him off. "I would love that. I might need to change my shoes though." She gestured to the three-inch heels on her feet."

"I would advise bringing along a pair of good walking shoes. I would hate for you to get hurt."

"It would be a shame to break my ankle on our very first date," agreed Marinette. "I'll just go grab a change of shoes and my purse, and then we can go."

Damian smiled at her. "I'll wait for you here."

Damian watched Marinette leave, thinking of all his favorite things he could finally show her, and all of her smiles he could finally see.

Taglist: @fanboy7794 @mikantsume @hetalia-lover-is-here @howtoshuckatlife @you-will-never-know-how-i-think @redscarlet95 @derpingrainbow @friedchickening @melicmusicmagic @beautym3 @kunstner1 @shizukiryuu @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @crazylittlemunchkin @black-streak @darkshadowguardian @mystery-5-5 @trubel43 @fandomfan315 @vincentvangoose @royalchaoticfangirl @mooshoon @drama-queen-supreme @kae690 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @zoerayne2426 @littleredrobinhoodlum @lunar-wolf-warrior @dani-ari @sam-spectra @be-happy-every-day-please @xxmadamjinxx @interobanginyourmom @northernbluetongue @eliza-bich @romanoff-queen @scribblinggraveyard @dur55 @jeminiikrystal @sassakitty @miss-mysterys-blog @aegyobutpsycho2 @pirats-pizzacanninibles @chaosace @pepelachanel @sturchling @amayakans @athenalovesredsblog @boxercity1

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

What a Time to be Alive - Diego Hargreeves x Reader

Chapter 2- The Frankel Footage

Summary: After receiving a surprise visit from Five, you quit your bar tending job, quickly followed him to find Diego, and then broke Diego out of the mental hospital all in one day. Now you, Diego, and Lila, are free and ready to tackle whatever new problem awaits.

If anyone else wants tagged just hit me up.      Tagged: @white-wolf-buckaroo

You three ran for a couple blocks out of sight and away from any nosy law enforcement officers and their annoying sirens. Through back ally’s and down side streets, until you came upon a cluster of parked cars. Where you three hid behind trying not to be seen.

“This way” Diego whispers while getting up to race across the street, you and Lila trailing after him.

Hiding behind an apartment building, you and Lila look back from where you just came. “All right, we can’t stay here for too long. They’re gonna be looking for us.” Diego quietly warns.

“The cops or those large Scandinavian fellas” Lila asks, still on lookout.

“Both” you say quickly, turning to follow Diego’s lead.

He suddenly jumps up on a dumpster then on top of an outhouse type building. “D, what are you doing?” You ask confused, not quite catching onto his plans just yet.

Grabbing clothes off the line and throwing them to you, he replies, “Me and you aren’t gonna get very far dressed like a lobotomy case.”

“Fair point”

“Hey what about me?” Asks Lila, as Diego jumps down off of the small shed, walking back over to the two of you, and quickly throwing her some clothes in the process.

Diego turns around while taking off his shirt, “Look, I appreciate your help, but now we...” He points to you for a second, who’s changing into a different shirt, from the previous hospital staff attire. “Go our separate ways.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re gonna be looking for us, together. You stand a better chance on your own.”

“What, you guys need me, we could make a good team, I don’t mind third wheeling.”

“No”

“Okay did you forget how great I am at causing distractions, or sneaking in small weapons, or when I saved your ass when...” Police sirens begin shouting through the air, cutting her off mid-sentence, catching all of your attentions with it. Sending a surge of panic through you, there was no way in hell were you getting caught.

“Oh shit” Lila whispers, turning to abruptly dodge under a car and out of sight like a literal ninja, who is this strange woman?

Looking at Diego you happen to spot a hiding place behind a small pillar of bricks. Grabbing his arms once again, you pull him with you towards the spot, hugging him tightly as you look over his shoulder. Hearing the whrr of a siren, you listen and watch as the cop car rolls past, agonizingly slow. Looking up at him once again, you can’t help but notice the close proximity between the two of you, your face breaks out into a large grin. Relishing in the contact that you’ve been so deeply deprived of.

“Is that a knife in your pants or are you just happy to see me?” You ask while flashing him a cheeky smile.

“Why are you like this?” He whispers grinning back down at you, amused at your never ending ability to joke around at the most inappropriate times.

“Hey guys, let’s take my car.” Lila says, while eyeing up one of the parked on the street.

Looking back into Diego’s dark eyes, you swiftly catch his lips with yours, not being able hold yourself back anymore. He tenses for a split second before he melts into you, relaxing completely. The kiss is sweet, hungry, and full of longing. You can both tell how much you’ve truly missed each other.

Breaking away, Diego follows your lips, disappointed in such a small intimate moment being ruined. “We gotta go, our getaway driver is here.” You beam, satisfied with what you could get.

Jumping into the stolen car, you take the passenger seat making Diego sit in the back.

“Let’s roll kids” Lila says grinning, as she hastily backs out of the parking spot.

——

After sleeping in the front seat next to Lila, and Diego grumpily trying to find a comfy position in the back. You three made it through the night and are now currently up and ready to roll. Diego in the passenger seat now, with you at the wheel and Lila in the back. Parked in front of some library that Diego insisted on going to you as you could only assume it had to do with the president, most likely.

“All right, here’s the plan: Oswald finishes his shift at 4:30 p.m. Once he walks out those doors, we force him into the front seat.” Diego tells you, while looking out the window intensely.

“I’m in the front seat” You reply while looking out at some birds eating something in the grass.

“Okay, fine. In the back seat.”

“I’m in the back seat.” Lila says, also unimpressed by Diego’s plan. She makes knowing eye contact with you in the mirror.

“Okay in the trunk, Y/N is gonna pin his arms, I’m gonna cut off his trigger finger and tell him he has 24 hours to exit Dallas.”

“That’s your plan?” Lila asks. Sharing another glance with you.

“You got a problem with it?” He questions sassily.

“Why don’t we just kill him” You say with a casual shrug.

“What?

“I agree with Y/N, I mean, you think he’s gonna shoot the president right?”

“Right”

“Fine, so we kill him. Put a bullet between his eyes.” She says, as you make a finger gun and a boom sound. “Problem solved”

“No, no, no, we’re not going to kill a man before he’s committed a crime.” He says, annoyed.

“That’s stupid” She retorts back, tired of Diego’s dumb idea already.

“Excuse me?”

“In fact, your whole plan is stupid. What, chopping off a guys finger?” She smiles amused.

“No, it’s not just any finger, it’s his trigger finger, all right. You can’t shoot a gun without a trigger finger.” He says defensively.

“What if he’s ambidextrous?” You ask, egging him on.

Diego looks at you in defeat at both of yours and Lila’s points. She finally says, “How do you get through a day?

“Both of you get out. I can do this on my own.” He grumbles quickly.

“Dr. Moncton was right, this hero complex is no joke. I mean, Y/N how do you even put up with his shit.” She wonders turning to you.

“Don’t answer that. This is not what this is about.” He’s says, you laughing at his sour mood and Lila’s call out.

“D, she makes a compelling argument.”

Nodding at you she quips back, “Of course it is, you want to prove to Daddy that you’re a big success.” She says, realization clear on her features.

Snorting you raise your eyebrows at Diego, who says, “No, out of the three of us, you don’t know anything about me, Lila.”

“I don’t have to be Y/N to know anything about you. You are an open book written for very dumb children.” She says matter-of-factly.

Holding in laughter you face away from Diego, as you peer out the window so he won’t see the amusement clear on your face.

You love Diego, and fight crime with Diego, but you don’t do it out of a hero complex like he does. You do it because it’s fun and it helps people sometimes. You’ve never seeked it out in the way that he did, like buying a patrol caller, walking into crime scenes to gather information, and continuously wearing that stupidly adorable childhood domino mask. You prefer to stay in the shadows and hunt down rapists and human traffickers when the opportunity arises. So yeah, Lila calling out Diego on his shit, that he doesn’t realize is his shit, does entertain you.

“I’m not. Trying. To. Be A. Hero, okay!” He says slowly with frustration lacing his voice, like we can’t understand him.

“Then why are we doing this?” You reply facing him again. All of a sudden Five appears in the back seat next to Lila, who screams and backs away. Clearly not expecting a 13 year old boy to just teleport randomly into the car.

“Because he’s an idiot” Five replies smartly, with a smug grin on his young face.

Calming down again she looks at Five confused, “Who the hell are you, I mean Diego did tell me Y/N is kinda like a vampire but not really a vampire, so?”

Giving Diego your what-the-fuck-did-you-tell-her-about-me face, he briefly grins at you when Five answers her, “Hi. I’m his loving brother.”

“Who left me to rot in a nut house.”

“To protect you from yourself.”

“That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to him, I’m gonna cry.” You reply, while wiping a fake tear away.

Rolling his eyes Diego points to the three of you, “Okay, all of you, out.” Diego says done with all of your shit.

“Lose the crazy lady, you two are coming with me. We have important business.” Five says frustrated.

Diego turns to look out the front window. “I am not going anywhere with you.”

Looking out the window, Five spots a security guard walking down the street. “Okay, fine.”

Not buying into Five’s surrender, you follow his gaze seeing the officer walking away from all of you. With a big smile plastered on his face, Five takes this moment of improvisation to call out loudly. “Officer!”

“Hey!” Diego snaps, reaching past you in record time, silencing Five by grabbing his jacket. “What are you doing?”

Grinning like the little shit he is, Five answers sassily, “I hear there’s a reward out for you two, and an unidentified jailbreaker accomplice last seen helping two patients escape.”

“He’s bluffing.” Lila says.

Watching the intense stare down between the two of them you reply, “He’s not.” Knowing better then to doubt Five. Cause let’s be honest he would watch you get arrested for fun any day of the week.

“Fine. We’ll go with you.” He says defeated yet again.

“What about me?” Lila asks.

“She yells at Diego when he’s being an idiot, crazy lady can come too.” You tell them while nodding to her.

“You yell at me when I’m being an idiot too, Y/N.” Diego remarks bluntly.

“That’s fair. But I feel like she’s good at playing eye spy, and you’re definitely not. You have no patience, I swear.”

“I don’t know what I just got myself into but I’m glad I met you guys.” Lila exclaims enthusiastically, pleased at your positive answer.

--

A short drive later, you, Diego, Five and Lila begin walking up the steps into Five’s new friends building. Not being overly impressed by much and concerned for this mans mental well being at the fact that he’s Five’s so-called “friend”, you keep walking as Five leads you three up the stairs. When you reach the top, you hear footsteps and the sound of a gun click. Glancing up, you observe a scrawny looking man with confusion and fight in his eyes. He starts to speak all stressed out and loud, barking at you four. “Where did you get the film? The Frankel Footage. The truth this time.” He demands while still holding up the gun at the four of you. Oh yeah, this is Five’s new friend? Seems about right.

“You know this lunatic?” Diego wonders at Five.

“God, his hearts beating so loud, I’m gonna have a headache.” You groan, this guy is on full adrenaline, jeesh.

Five sighs, “New acquaintance. He’s harmless.”

“Are you sure about that?” Lila asks, puzzled.

Without warning this new friend of Five’s starts to yell, sounding like an off cord scratchy violin in your hyper sensitive ears. A quiet room with sudden loud noises makes your hearing extra perceptive. It’s not exactly a beneficial attribute to have at the moment.

“Are you or are you not an enemy of the people?!”

Giving you a precious moment of peace, Diego answers back. “Such an open-ended question, yeah.”

“Really depends on the people.” Adds Five calmly.

Raising the gun up higher the angry guy speaks again, less loud this time. “You move one more muscle, I will blow y’alls brains out.”

“Yeah good luck with that, you’ll deeply regret it in a couple seconds.” You tell him bluntly as he gives you a weird look.

“You want to take this or should I?” Diego asks Five. Always ready to throw hands at any given moment.

“No, I got him.” He replies with apprehensive determination.

An abrupt flash later, Five is in front of the mysteriously angry gunman. Grabbing the gun and pushing the barrel upward where it then goes off. Shooting a bullet into the ceiling. And sending a symphony of booming racket directly into your ears.

“Fucking hell” You mumble while pursing your lips together as the pain in your ears wears off.

Looking back up, you watch as Diego unloads the gun and the crazy southern guy looks at everyone in confusion.

“What the hell just happened?” Lila asks with an amused smile, clearly not expecting anything more weird to take place again.

——

After the fun little greeting Elliot gave you, you and Diego tied him up, you know just normal couple things. So Five could play some home movies, or in other words that Frankel Footage Elliot was yapping about earlier. Leaving him in a dentist’s chair, Lila sat down and started to paint his toe nails some kind of green color. While Five was playing the old film footage, Diego sat on a counter to his left, knees up and knife in one hand. Meanwhile you sat cross legged on the same counter near his shoes leaning your right knee on Diego’s bent legs.

“I love old couples. I’m always so proud of them for not murdering each other.” She says randomly.

“Why are we watching this?” Diego suddenly asks Five, who’s intensely focused on the footage. “Shush” He’s tells him, hyper focused on the projection screen.

The people on the screen begin talking about who they are and where they happen to be at the moment. Dallas, Texas. November 22, 1963. Oh, shit. You think, knowing exactly where this specific moment is going to lead.

Leaning in closer Diego says, “This is it. The grassy knoll. Kennedy’s about to get shot. How do you have this?” He quickly questions Five.

“Hazel died to get me this footage. It must be the key to stopping doomsday.”

“Hazel?” You ask curiously, remembering the masked guy who shanked you with an old iron antique boat when you first met him and Cha Cha shooting up the Umbrella Academy. Damn, he’s already dead.

“Long story.”

“What’s doomsday?” Wonders Lila in confusion.

“Longer story.”

“What exactly did he say to you?” Diego questions in bewilderment.

“Well, he was killed before he could explain. But whatever he wanted us to see, it’s on this film.” He answers earnestly.

Without warning, gunshots go off in the background, signaling that President Kennedy's been shot. All of you watch closer with wide eyes as you three try to spot what Hazel was talking about. Five rewinds the tape for better inspection, moving around to slide the projector back. Giving everyone a better view to watch the footage. “It can’t be.” He says astonished.

“Okay, you guys gonna fill me in now? What the hell is this shit we’re watching?” Demands Lila, weirded out by how the three of you are acting towards this random footage.

Standing up and walking closer to the screen, you, Diego, and Five look on in stunned shock, spotting him. “What the fuck?” You say perplexed.

“No, that’s impossible.” 

“Clearly, it’s not.” Mutters Five.

From behind you three, you hear the muffled voice of Elliot. “What...what is it?”

“Dad” Diego and Five whisper dumbfounded. You only look on in deep thought. How could he have been there, and what the hell was old Reggie doing there in the first place?

——

“Of course Dad would be involved in the assassination. I should have know.”

“No, you’re jumping to conclusions.” Replies Five, while pacing back and forth.

“It’s a bit of a stretch, Diego.” You tell him shrugging.

“What else is he doing standing on the grassy knoll, holding an open umbrella on a sunny day in Dallas the exact same moment the president gets shot?!” Diego yells back at the two of you.

“It doesn’t look good, I admit.” Replies Five.

“No, he’s the signalman for the whole goddamn thing.” He says convincing himself.

“Easy Diego. Seriously.”

“No, it makes sense. This is what Hazel was obviously trying to tell you.” Diego says looking intently at Five. “We have to stop Dad from killing the president.”

“Diego, calm down, all right. Dad was no Boy Scout, but presidential assassination? It’s never been his thing.” Five argues, and you’d have to agree, Diego’s truly jumping ahead of himself.

“How would you know? You skipped out on his golden years.” Diego snaps back.

“Skipped out?” Five scoffed stepping closer, “You think I had it easy, Diego? I was alone for 45 years.” Deciding he’d had enough of Diego’s dad and killing the president shit, Five growls back at Diego. “You know what? We don’t have time for this right now. Dads clearly in Dallas, right? Let’s just go talk to him. Maybe he can help fix the timeline.” He ends with, walking around the room.

“Dallas is a big place. We need to find him first.” Diego replies bluntly.

“Gee, if only we had some magical, old times way of finding people and their addresses.” Five sasses back while putting his hands on his small hips.

“Alright smart-ass, I’ll find the phone book.” You quip, getting up off the counter and walking towards Elliot’s office. Finding the thing laying under a couple of papers and a stapler, you grab it and set it down on the nearby desktop.

“Let’s start simple. His name.” Five says as Diego reads off the names in the H section. “Shit, nothing here.”

“Try his company, what was it Five?” You ask while standing behind them.

“D.S. Umbrella Manufacturing Co.” Five says without missing a beat.

“Yeah, I know the name. Thanks.” Diego replies sarcastically. Continuing his search by flipping through the pages. “Uh....Holy shit. D.S. Umbrella.” He looks at Five surprised, “Eighty-two Olive. Let’s go.” He says, shutting the phone book.

Pulling up the white film screen and walking through the doorway Diego turns to Five. “He okay to leave here like that?” Referring to Elliot who was still tied to the dentist chair.

“Yeah, he’s fine. What about the girl?”

“She’s chilling in the dark room getting some air. So where are we going?” You remark casually.

“The hell is she doing in there, or you?” Diego wonders.

“We were having some quality girl time, nothing you’d be interested in, I promise.” You say winking at him.

———

Pulling up to the building of the hour, you all get out, shutting the doors and walking up to the glass doors. All collectively feeling a bit uneasy about meeting Sir Reginald Hargreeves, that is if he decides to make an appearance or not.

“How long’s it been since you’ve seen the old man?” You ask Five, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

“Forty-Five years.”

“That’s a trip.”

“No kidding.” Five sighs, leaning against the brick wall as Diego makes an attempt to lock pick the doors. “You know, when I was stuck out there in the apocalypse, there wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t hear his voice in my head.”

“What was he saying?” Asked Diego, still fiddling with the lock.

“I told you so.” 

“Well, if Dad’s here, he’s never met you before, so he can’t say, I told you so.” Diego says trying to boost Five’s dampened mood.

“I’m sure he’ll find a way.” Five says while looking back around at the grassy yard. Catching your eye, you nod to him to help Diego out. A flash later and he’s on the other side of the door, unlocking it with ease and letting you two inside. “Right. Gotta remember that” Diego says, clearing his throat, standing up and walking through the now unlocked glass doors. You following right behind him, as Five holds the door open.

Walking fully inside the office building, Five goes to turn on a lamp only for it to flicker off again within seconds of being turned on. “Shit. Guess Dad wasn’t much for home decor.” Says Diego eyeing up the place.

You look around the room yourself, fully taking in your surroundings, as your eyes immediately begin adjusting in the dark room, you’re now able to see everything clearly. Observing the lack of care and vacancy in the area you nod to Five. “This feels more like a front, some kind of decoy maybe?”

“A front for what?” Diego asks, confused.

“Beats me” Replies Five still uneasy about being in here.

“Well, me and Y/N will take the left. Yell if you, uh....get in trouble. Y/N will hear you.” Remarks Diego, swinging the door open.

“Don’t get shot, remember your safety training.” You smirk at Five jokingly, as you walk through the open door that Diego is holding open for you.

“How could I forget.” Fives replies back, slightly amused at your ability to seem calm in a place like this.

Walking down the hallway, Diego opens a door leading into someone’s office. The air smells old and stale to you, clearly no ones actually been in here in quite a while. Diego blows off dust laying lightly on top of a file, who just leaves a random file lying around for anyone to snatch? He starts to flip through it, concentrated on finding a scrap of evidence. When your ears prick up at the sound of light footsteps that apparently Diego can’t hear yet. Then a door opens and the footsteps sound like they’re retreating out the doorway. Diego abruptly looks up at you for reassurance, wanting to know for sure you heard what he just heard too. You nod at him, making your way towards the door to find this mystery person. Diego walks towards the door hot on your heels, catching up and moving past you swiftly. Determined to catch sight of the cryptic individual himself.

Opening the doors, you catch a glimpse of the mystery man briskly walking into the thick foggy night air and out of sight.

“I’ll go after him, you circle around and hopefully catch him off guard if he decides to run.” Telling you the plans, Diego turns ready to catch up with the guy, giving you a flash of a nervous smile before he goes. And then he’s gone, into the fog and out of sight. Yeah fuck that, it’s dark out and this guy could be legitimately dangerous for all you know, idiot. Following behind Diego from a distance were he wouldn’t be able to notice you. Not that it’d be hard anyways, considering you’re kinda a master of stealth yourself.

You climb up into the rafters of this weird barn type building, you hear the faintest sounds of Five yelling for you two from within the office building. As you’re about to jump down to help, you spot Diego walking when another figure drops out of the shadows kicking him in the ribs. Great. Deciding you’d like to sit back and watch for a bit, you climb closer for a better view. Diego then throws a knife and the stranger ducks, completely missing him. “Damn, I bet he’d be fantastic at laser tag.” You mumble letting your intrusive thoughts work their way out subconsciously.

Watching Diego twirl around and make some compelling hits gives you time to get closer and bring yourself nearer to the ground. Incase you needed to lend a hand or two if things got messy. As you finally drop yourself onto the damp floor, you look up to see Diego apparently losing the fight a bit. Getting flipped onto his knees for a second before he runs forward pulling out some type of metal stick from a bunch of wooden crates. Where he then proceeds to backflip off said crates and stick the landing with ease. Show off. He starts swinging it around, advancing on the stranger who’s doing a decent job at holding his own ground.

That is, until the guy looses his dark face-covering, only to reveal, holy shit, the one and only asshole himself, Sir Reginald Hargreeves. Diego must have been just as shocked too, because the next moment you hear a soft “dad” from Diego’s lips. And then Reginald lunges, you see a flash of gold and hide a muffled scream as a small knife plunges into Diego’s side. You hear “amateur” before he turns around and casually walks out of the barn without a single fuck to give.

Gasping you ignore the need to question Sir Reginald, racing over to Diego who’s lying on the floor wide eyed in bewilderment as to what just unfolded a couple seconds ago.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Diego what the fuck!?” You say panicked, ripping your thin jacket off and covering his stab wound with it.

Moaning in pain he looks at you. “I should have let you take him.” He whispers tiredly.

“Shut up I know, FIVE get the fuck over here!” You scream in a desperate panic.

Teleporting to you, he looks down surprised. “Jesus Diego I leave you alone for 5 minutes and this is what happens.” He says bluntly while shaking his head.

“Just go get the car.” You growl at him, while pressing the fabric into Diego's side to help stop the bleeding.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

where does it end?

Pairing: Queen!Reader x Knight!Bucky Barnes 

Warning(s): angst, sexual themes, triggering content, dark!steve

A/N: by @lookiamtrying​ request, i am posting the last part to an year old mini fanfic i wrote. last chapter inspired by love me or leave me. enjoy xx

The world had barely seen the Queen ever since her loss. She was locked in her room and never left for any reason. Steve had been assigned her duties and her meals were taken into her chambers by her handmaidens. She had even moved her King and husband from her room. No one heard from her and some handmaidens were quick to start coming up with the wildest of theories while some believed she could be expecting, but James knew it wasn’t the truth. 

     - The King’s calling for you, Sir Barnes. - Natalia walked into the training chambers where he was supervising some new blood into the royal army. James sighed, turning to his second and telling him to take his place before following the redhead into the King’s headquarters.

He wasn’t very keen on talking to him much less look at him. James despised him with every drop of his being but yet he couldn’t figure out if it was because he had gotten the ultimate prize or if he had threatened to have her head cut off due to infidelity which had never happen. 

They finally stopped in front of the King’s Quarters which had been the young Queen’s library and now rudely turned into somewhere where Lord Rogers rudely tried to take her place. He was royalty but he didn’t have the grace or the beautiful ruling ability the Queen had. 

    - Your Royal Highness ... - the redheaded female knocked on the huge mahogany doors whose initials had been removed. She slowly opened the door to see the blonde reading some papers. - Sir Barnes is here, as you requested. 

    - Thank you, Lady Romanova. - he said, not even looking up from his papers. Natalia took James inside, leaving him there only hearing his heartbeat and the wood crackling on the fireplace. He heard the doors closing behind and his last conversation with the king came to mind. 

    - Your Majesty, what do you wish from me? - no matter how hard he disliked the man, he was still his King and while Y/N was unavailable, he’d have to answer to him and only him.

    - You are a smart man, Sir Barnes. My advisors say you take it after your father, ever so calculating. You’re a man who, like me, knows that despite our dear Queen being ever so thoughtful, ever so loved, she has one job that she needs to do as a Royal of her gender. Can you tell me what is it?

    - Provide heirs to ensure the house keeps on. - James refused to look Steve in the eyes. He didn’t understand where he was going, he didn’t understand why he asked that. - What does that have to do with me, your majesty?

    - She refuses to see me and since she’s the rightful heir, her advisors have suggested another husband for the Queen considering we won’t produce any heirs. - Steve got up from his seat walking up to one of the countless shelves filled with books owned by the crown family. - I’ve spent years in my brother’s shade, heir in spare and I will not have my marriage annulled and lose my crown because my wife refuses to lay with me. 

    - I don’t understand what that has to do with me, Your Majesty. 

    - My wife clearly doesn’t want to lay with me but she doesn’t seem to have minded laying with you before we were married. At this point I don’t care who the child is as long as she’s pregnant. 

Bucky’s heart sank into his stomach as his brain started to process what he was asking of him. It couldn’t be, he wouldn’t want that, Bucky couldn’t do that. His eyes seemed void of life as he looked up at his King whose position was so so fickle.

    - I don’t think I understand, your Majesty. - Bucky hoped he didn’t understand, he really hoped he was wrong. 

   - What part of fuck my wife do you not understand, Sir Barnes? - he growled at the man standing in front of him. - I will not be thrown off my rightful throne because my wife refuses to get knocked up. 

   - With all due respect, your Majesty, it is her rightful throne. She’s the heir.

   - You see, Sir Barnes I really don’t wanna accuse my wife of adultery. It will end up in her beheading and I really don’t think the people would enjoy that. Besides, of course I will pay you a good amount for your service and it’s not like I will deprive you of seeing the child. - Bucky could feel himself churn at the thought of the man so many called loyal and rightful treat Y/N as if she were a breeding dog, as if she were a business, as if she wasn’t the human with the heart of gold he knew she had.

No, no, Bucky couldn’t do that to her. He knew his Queen like the palm of his heart, she was sweet, fair and anyone who’s by her company normally basks in her light which seems to reflect of her own words. He couldn’t agree to treat her as if she was merely a breeding object but he also couldn’t allow for her to be beheaded. It terrified him to see the face he used to love to wake up next to, her little smirky whenever she stole swords from knights as her princess, her sunny smile whenever she performed an operetta correctly gone. He couldn’t see her gone. No. He had promised to protect his sovereign and she would always be her Queen.

     - I cannot do that. 

     - Your father fought to protect this kingdom. I am fighting to protect it too, you cannot let a woman rule by herself, who’ll inherit the throne? Besides, you surely didn’t mind fucking her like a cheap whore when she wasn’t married.

     - Your wife has always been loyal to you since her marriage. I’ve told you that before. 

     - Then I think you have a choice to make. 

Bucky felt the world collapse on top of his. Through his mind rushed the moments he had shared with her, from the very first moment he met her sitting at one of her mother’s teas, pink frilly dress, the smile she gave him to her wedding when he refused to stop the ceremony. He wondered if he should’ve had stopped but he also wondered what life he could’ve given her. It didn’t matter anymore, he should’ve stopped it, he should’ve done something. He thought of the life she could’ve had if he had stopped her, she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant, she wouldn’t have lost the baby, he wouldn’t have disappointed her once again and she wouldn’t be traded around like a harlot.

As he exited the study, he knew what he had to do. He had to take her away from the kingdom as sure as possible, send her to one of their allies, maybe to one of her younger sister’s kingdoms gained by marriage, anywhere that could aid her in stopping what was happening behind her back.

    - Don’t. - he turned around to see his wife, Natalia. She held a cold look in her face, too cold contrasted to her fiery red hair but he still could point out the crack in the ice of her eyes. It was still there, begging. - I know what you’re thinking about, James. Don’t do it. 

    - Get off my way, Natalia. - she stood in front of him like an unmovable rock, stronger than the tide itself, never stopping. - I won’t say it again.

    - Just sleep with her, James. He’ll pay you well and we could leave this, we could maybe buy a piece of land, start over. - jealousy is a damned thing, he realised. He realised jealousy had shaped the wife once friend who he had known all his life as someone who knew right from wrong, it had shaped her into a cunning woman, one which knew how to ride the problem of her marriage away. But she couldn’t erase the problem, she could never get what was already someone else’s, no matter how hard she tried. - You’ll only end up getting yourself killed.

    - Move.

    - No, James. 

    - Do not make me hurt you. - he stepped closer to the red head, close enough he could feel her breathing on his face, fists clenched. 

    - Would you hurt your wife for her? 

Yes. The answer was yes but he wouldn’t say it to her. Instead he shoved her away from him, watching as his lack of answer broke through her cold facade allowing him to overpower her. Natalia watched as he strode through the halls, not even looking back. He had been gone a long, long time away, but now, now he was walking away and she stood in the corridor, on her knees, stubborn soul refusing for the tears gathered on her eyes to stream down her face, hate growing where love once blossomed. 

Bucky strode through the corridors, the phantom of Y/N still haunting him as if the memory of younger, better days were pulling at his brain like bottled regrets. She would always let her hand close to his, hoping for him to grab it and he never did, he never did. He wondered why he never did. As he stepped closer to her chambers, he could see her handmaids surrounding the door, still locked out and not allowed in. 

   - You’re needed elsewhere. - he spoke in a tone which left no room for interpretation. The girls immediately rush away, fears of the man which seemed to had turned bitter with time too present in their minds. Bucky didn’t care or feel any pity for them. They had comfortable lives, they didn’t need pity, they needed to be away from the Queen.

His hand went straight to the door handle, pushing it open but the door didn’t budge. Y/N was still locked in. He tried in, hoping the door would cave in but once again it didn’t. They weren’t supposed to cave in. His fists started banging against the gold encrusted door and had he not lost his flesh arm long years ago, it would’ve started bleeding from the force alone. 

    - Open the door, Y/N! - desperation dripped from his voice but she herself, like the door didn’t cave in.

   - Stop banging on the door and go away, James. - he could hear her from the other door. So close and yet so far away.

   - Open this door or so help me I will break it down myself. - Y/N didn’t doubt him. She knew what his arm could do but she was also much too smart not to get hurt again. Nevertheless, she unlocked the door, turning the small golden key held by the lock and he immediately pushed the door open. Her eyes scanned him, he was deranged, like an animal in the wild.

   - Get out, James. I swear I will call the guards on you. 

   - We need to go. - he walked into her bedroom, straight to the hanger where her cape hanged from. Grabbing it, he threw it at her but Y/N remained in her spot, no affection for him in his face. Had he not been so concerned for her head remaining on her shoulders, it would’ve hurt him. - I said we need to go, Y/N. 

    - You don’t get to order me around. 

    - Do you still love me? - the question took Y/N by surprise. Almost as if something had hit her, she took a few steps back, looking behind her to see that not so far away there were some guards. She could just call for them.

    - James, I will call the gu ...

    - Do you still love me? - he interrupted the young queen, punctuating every single word like a stab on an already aching heart. There was no saint, there was no devil, just two aching hearts filled with scars that were starting to harden the youthful hope it used to harbour.

Did she still love him? Yes. She can’t find the words to tell him, head and heart bleeding in negative thoughts. She could never say to him she didn’t and whenever she told him she did, he would turn his face and walk away leaving her broken, shattered on the floor by a love surely classic love tales warned her about. In her memory everything still burned from when he said he didn’t love her from when he called himself a mere companion. She couldn’t bring herself to tell him she loved him so instead she nodded.

    - I have to get you out right now. I’ll explain later. - he stepped towards her but there was no ice cold nature to him, no violence. Instead, he slide the cape behind her, tying it around her neck before placing the hood over her head. It was a bleak brown cape she would use whenever going into the town’s market. 

His hand wrapped around hers as he turned the opposite way from the guards, walking towards the training grounds from which he could sneak her out and into the carriage which led into the town where she could get a train ticket into one of her sisters’ kingdoms. He kept rushing through the halls until a very familiar voice made him stop, rushing her to the opposite corridor. Both of them were up against the wall. 

   - Thank you for letting me know, Natalia. - the voice boomed through the corridor before he turned to address the guard with him. - Make sure Sir Barnes and the Queen leave. Sadly, our Queen seems to have chosen an illicit affair over her wedding and therefore she is a traitor to our country. 

Y/N looked up to Bucky, not understanding exactly what had happened but knowing she clearly couldn’t remain in the castle. Bucky mouthed kitchen to her, before helping her rush down the corridor onto the kitchen. Both of them ran through the oven heated grounds until the wooden door. Luckily for them, it was open.

   - Here. - Bucky handed her a small pouch. - There’s enough for a train ticket and more if anything happens. 

   - Are you coming?

   - Bucky, you’re gonna be killed. If affair isn’t believed, he’ll surely blame you for rape or kidnapping and he’ll kill you.

   - Y/N.

   - Do you love me? - she had one hand on the open door’s handle and one extended to him.

Yes. His hand touched hers and they exited, door behind them closed as everything was left behind.

[kisekinodrabbles]

helloo! i'd like to request something for the prompt game please :D kasamatsu + band!au + strangers to lovers + dialogue number 14 if that's okay? thanks, sam! and welcome back~

ofc!!! i tried to keep it shorter but im a bit rusty w my kasamatsu hehe hope u enjoy! wc: 2.3k

Kasamatsu admits that balancing his band and college work isn’t exactly an easy task. Between late evenings spent at gigs and all nights at the library, he is on the brink of his sanity, standing right at the tipping point. He yawns as he enters his nine am mandatory calculus class, another mistake made in his overconfidence that he would somehow be able to get his shit together.

You, on the other hand, are a closeted fan of his band, sitting three rows behind him in class. Every Tuesday and Thursday, you watch him drag his feet in and his hand lifting to his mouth in a yawn. Quickly, you duck behind your book as if Kasamatsu would ever give you the time of day. The brunette is well-known on campus with his successful group and good looks, not to mention he also dabbles a little in basketball while also maintaining a decent grade point average across all his classes. Triple threat, they call him.

When you first came into class and saw him there, shocked is an understatement. You’ve been following his band his high school from across the country. To see him in the flesh, so real and so human with his tired eyes, it almost feels like a dream. One you hope nobody would ever pinch you awake from. Thus, you made it your goal to be there before him every morning, which is a feat in itself. Kasamatsu may be grinding through the night and falling asleep in lectures, but he’ll be damned if he shows up late to class.

Throughout several weeks, you’ve seen girls come up to him left and right, shot down almost immediately by his intention to focus on the professor’s words. He lets them down easy and makes it clear that he pays thousands of dollars to study, not play IRL Tinder. This man gets sexier everyday.

You take your time packing your things when class is over, mainly because you’re too distracted watching Kasamatsu do the same. He is blind, or chooses to ignore, the whispers and shy glances thrown his way. Perhaps this is why you haven’t approached him yourself. You’re just one of his many admirers, a stroke in the massive painting of his life. Sighing, you pick up your pitiful self and make your way to the dining hall where you’re supposed to meet your friend for breakfast.

When the two of you settle on a table, you begin your weekly rambling about how beautiful Kasamatsu looks in the morning. Moriyama, being the good friend that he is, nods and listens intently.

Moriyama is an intriguing character. The two of you met because he had tried a line on you. In your perpetual state of flustered embarrassment, you had stupidly confessed to him: “Sorry, my heart belongs to Kasamatsu Yukio.”

In another twist of fate, he revealed that he had actually gone to high school with the guy and knew him pretty well.

“You know I can introduce you to him, right? No need for all this pining and drooling from three feet away.”

“It’s not the same,” you argue, “he’s practically a living legend on campus. I’m too intimidated to even breathe in the same air as him.” Your obsession has perhaps taken you too far, but if you expect to continue being his fan, the last thing you want is to scare him away.

“You’re so overdramatic,” Moriyama rolls his eyes. Coming from him, this sentence means a lot.

“What? It’s not my fault Kasamatsu’s so hot. He could bang me so hard backstage then pretend I don’t exist and I would still pay to watch his next show,” you groan, spooning yogurt into your mouth.

In that moment, several things happen. Moriyama’s eyes widen and fly behind you. Footsteps sounding at that same spot suddenly cease completely. You, realizing what possibly just happened, feel the heat flare up your cheeks.

Kasamatsu, in his sleep deprived state and probably completely delirious, had stopped in his tracks. His head whipped around to the source of the comment, finding Moriyama sitting with someone who looks distinctly familiar, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

“Kasamatsu—”

Before Moriyama can even finish his sentence, Kasamatsu is already blurting out. “Okay, maybe I’m crazy but did I just hear you say that out loud?”

You want to crawl into your hole six feet underground and never see the light of day again. Ducking your head, you don’t even want to chance a glance up. The utter mortification is chewing away at your bones and you wish you could just evaporate into thin air.

Moriyama quickly interjects with a quick laugh, “Hear what? Also how have you been, man? I haven’t seen you in forever. Come join us for breakfast.”

Kasamatsu’s brows pucker. Maybe he really is going insane. And horny. Which is a very bad combination. Nevertheless, he slides into the empty seat next to Moriyama. He stares at you for a few seconds, squinting, before snapping his fingers. “Oh, I remember now. You’re in my calculus class.”

He knows you? “How do you know me?” you squeak, cursing your fangirl self for losing your voice. You never speak up in class, always choosing to come up to your professor for questions at the end of lecture. You’re quiet and tucked away behind him, so you never expected him to recognize you.

The smile he sends you is blinding. Even with shadows under his eyes, he still looks gorgeous. “You’re always first to arrive and last to leave. Figured you’re a hard worker in class and probably acing it.”

Your mouth dries. Kasamatsu noticed you. He actually noticed you. “Oh, um, I’m okay. I’m okay in class, I mean.”

“The question you should be asking is her name, Kasamatsu,” Moriyama scolds, smacking his back.

Kasamatsu pinks sheepishly. “Sorry, yeah. I’m Kasamatsu Yukio, by the way.”

Idiotically, you blurt out “I know” before your name. When you finally introduce yourself, you also clarify, “I’m a huge fan of Blue Devils. I mean, I’ve been following you guys since like high school. Absolutely love your music.”

The man actually reddens even further, but still he beams proudly. “Thank you! That’s crazy. Have you been to our shows?”

Almost all of them. “A couple, yeah.”

“We have one tonight in an actual venue. Are you coming?”

“Ah, it was sold out before I could get a ticket, actually.”

Kasamatsu blinks, “Oh, you’re more than welcome to come. I can get you a pass. Both of you—if Moriyama’s interested.”

“That would be amazing!” You grin, “Is there anything I can get you in return? I don’t want to just accept a gift from you for free.”

“Well, if you are good at calc, I wouldn’t mind some extra tutoring,” he suggests with a teasing grin.

Moriyama rolls his eyes, “Just ask her out instead of using tutoring as an excuse.” The two of you sputter, face colored a dark shade of red. You’ll kick his ass when you get the chance.

—

That one mistake turned out to be the greatest opportunity of your life. In addition to attending his show that night and meeting all of his bandmates, each one more good looking up close than then other, you manage to have weekly study sessions (you’re holding off on calling it dates) with Kasamatsu. The two of you take turns booking rooms at the library to cram, which mainly consists of you reexplaining concepts to the man. Although he isn’t a bad student, he’s also still struggling a bit to keep up.

“Hey” is what you hear before you feel a warm surface press against your cheek. You look up to find Kasamatsu with a steaming cup in hand. Gratefully accepting it, you catch a whiff of freshly brewed tea. You take a sip and smile. Black tea, no sugar. “Just the way I like it.”

“Noticed you never add anything to your tea,” Kasamatsu says almost proudly.

You raise the cup to him in thanks. Both of you go through your usual routine—you focusing on reviewing material for next week while Kasamatsu pores over his notes from this week, occasionally poking you to ask questions.

Honestly, a big part of you still wonders if this is all a dream. This guy you’ve been crushing on for years is sitting in the flesh right across from you. You peek at him from time to time, watching the way he frowns at his book. His blue, almost grey, eyes shine underneath the flickering lights. Even the way his lips curl unhappily is cute.

When he catches you staring, you quickly drop your gaze back to your laptop, missing the way he smiles quietly.

“Will you come to our show this weekend?” He asks as the two of you pack up.

“Ah, I have a shift at my part-time job.”

He looks surprised, “That late?”

You shrug, “Food never sleeps, I guess. It’s at the burger diner by campus.”

“Oh, are you guys open late?”

“Close at one.”

He nods, “Maybe I’ll see you there after then. The guys usually get really hungry after a gig so we can drive some business your way. I’ll make sure they tip well too.”

Your heart warms at the thought. It’s a thoughtful gesture but you’re even more thrilled at the prospect of seeing him. “Sounds good.”

True to his word, Kasamatsu brings the guys to your workplace at midnight after their show ended. They order quite a spread, practically everything on the menu. Kasamatsu goes as far as to help you carry orders to their table. You shoot him an appreciative smile.

Over the time your friendship has bloomed, Kasamatsu has been nothing but a gentleman. He walks you home to your dorm if you’re studying late into the night. He meets you in class with a muffin or a cookie from his early Starbucks runs. Surprisingly, he begins placing himself next to you each session. “This is better anyway,” he mutters. “Two birds, one stone.”

His vague words had you tilting your head in question.

“I don’t have random people coming up to me to sit with me and, well, I get to enjoy your company.” It’s a nice thought—him enjoying your company, that is. He had blushed a little when he realized what you said, but chose to direct his attention to the slides pulled up before him, missing the way you hide your smile behind your sleeve.

Now, you hear the rowdy boys chattering on as they devour their meal as if it’s their last. They speak through mouthfuls of burgers and fries, but you find the sight endearing, mainly because you’ve never seen Kasamatsu so relaxed. It’s quite refreshing really. Your attention is piqued when you hear one of them ask: “So doing it tonight huh?”

Kasamatsu retorts with a “shut the fuck up” and flings a fry his way. The way the other guy wiggles his brows suggestively has you freezing. What if he was meeting up with someone tonight? What if he was going to do the deed?

Somewhere in the distance, you hear the faint cracking of your heart. Of course, Kasamatsu is popular. It’s no surprise he’s got his nights covered as well. You sigh dejectedly, feeling the hope inside you crumble into dust. The rest of your shift goes by rather uneventfully, but you try to avoid going to their table too much, lest you hear more details about Kasamatsu’s planned tryst. The man himself steals glances your way, wondering if you’ll be checking on them anytime soon.

“Your check,” you smile as you set the bill on the table, “I got the owner to give you a discount since you guys ordered a good amount.”

All of their eyes seem to sparkle as they thank you in unison, their synchrony almost puzzling. As you move to pick up the bill and change, Kasamatsu catches your hand before you move away. “What time does your shift end?”

“Half an hour. Why?”

The other guys are already packing up their things and giving you little waves as they exit the restaurant, leaving the two of you alone. “I’ll walk you home, it’s late,” he murmurs, fingers still wrapped around your wrist.

“Oh, you don’t have to! I usually take the bus back anyway so it’s no big deal.” You want to confirm whether he had plans that night anyway. You’d hate to be in the way of that.

He shakes his head, “I insist. Also, um, are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Catching up on studying most likely.”

“Oh,” he pauses, “if you have time tomorrow night, do you want to catch a movie with me? Maybe dinner after?”

You blink at him in surprise. Now that you’re looking at him properly, you notice that his cheeks are several shades darker than the red neon glow of the diner sign. He’s shifting on his feet and his other hand finds purchase on the strap of his bag, fidgeting with the material. “Um, like a date?”

“Y-yeah,” he stutters slightly, his throat moving as he swallows. “Sorry, I probably should’ve made that clear,” he coughs, “b-but if you don’t want it to be the we can also go as friends.” Perhaps you’ve tortured the boy long enough but you can’t help but relish in his awkward chuckle as his hand lifts to rub the back of his neck nervously.

Biting back a huge grin, you nod. “It’s a date.”

Kasamatsu’s eyes light up and a pleased grin spread across his face. “It’s a date.”

The hollering outside the building has the two of you whipping to face the window where his bandmates have their faces pressed up against the surface, laughing and smiling to congratulate and embarrass their friend. Kasamatsu flushes, “I’ll see you later to pick you up.”

You nod but he’s already out the door, leaping to kick his friends away. “You stupid idiots!”

Laughing, you watch as the group makes kissy faces at Kasamatsu all the while the man fruitlessly attempts to shut them up. He really is cute.

[achtung-attitude]

CHAPTER 46: Gangsta’s Paradise – Part 4

“Let it not be said,” Dust sighs, “I never gave you a chance.”

The preacher man walks backwards and morphs into the mirrors once more. Shizuka dashes in pursuit, but is suddenly overcome with a wave of lightheadedness. She stumbles and collides face first with a nearby wall, clinging to it for support, as her arms and legs tremor. When her vision blurs, she recalls her earlier, backfired attempt to turn invisible. “ACHTUNG BABY…?” she murmurs

But she doesn’t sense her ability circulating. Something more sinister is causing her affliction. From within the mirror in the alcove adjacent to her, and also from all of the phantom mirrors, Dust renews his sermon.

However, if you do not obey the LORD your God and do not carefully follow all his commands and decrees I am giving you today, all these curses will come on you and overtake you...

Shizuka gags and collapses on the floor. The Escherspace begins to collapse, flickering out of existence. She tries to breathe, but can only choke. 

Truly, I didn’t want it to come to this. You were so proud of yourself for bending this dimension to your will, but you have always been in my grasp. This is what I meant by giving you a chance. You have been doomed since you entered this place...

The countless Brother Dusts look down upon the convulsing Joestar from the infinite mirrors, a look of disappointment on his face.

Humans inhale oxygen and exhale carbon dioxide… GANGSTA’S PARADISE reverses this. Each breath you take starves your blood of vital oxygen and floods your body with deadly poison.

To think, how eager I was to finally meet you. You are strong, Shizuka Joestar. We could have achieved much together. But I am beyond strength.

The ground beneath Shizuka’s feet begins to fade into nothing. Grunting, she forces it back into solidity before she can slip through. She clutches at her throat as it seems to clog from the inside. 

“You…” she chokes, “talk too much…!”

ACHTUNG BABY flutters in and out of sight. With a wave of its hands, two new staircases materialize from the Escher-space. They swing like giant baseball bats at the mirror where Dust had entered, crashing into it, crumbling stone and shattering glass. Her efforts are futile, as the preacher’s resounding laughter proves. He is beyond her, safe in the mirrors. 

As Shizuka tries to lift herself off the ground, abruptly, she senses the preacher’s presence behind her.

“Brute force fails you. Like Job, you are helpless before divinity.” 

Shizuka turns, grinding her teeth at the sound of his smug voice as he continues, raising his black book in the air. “Behold, the hope of him is in vain; shall not one be cast down even at the sight of him?”

Before Shizuka can move out of the way, Dust graces her neck with his Bible. Not a moment passes when, in her periphery, she sees something thick and blue splatter onto the ground. With horror, she dabs at her neck, feeling the slick blood running from the thick gash that has formed. “Agh…!!”

“That would be your carotid artery I’ve severed. To think, the Good Book is supposed to guide and heal. I’m not fond of warping its purpose this way. Perhaps you understand now, the desperate measures I’ve been forced to take?”

Shizuka pays no attention, as she’s lost in the pain of her cut neck. She kneels on the ground, her knees dipped in the dark puddle.

“My throat…!” her mind reels, “Can’t breathe at all now…! It’s taking all I have just to keep the Escherspace intact…! how do I get out of this... how can I defeat his Stand…?! Wait...” she stills, staring at her hands. “My hands have... Stopped shaking…! But why... no way, you gotta be kidding!”

Dust saunters towards her. “Could it be you’ve finally given up? It’s too late to change your mind, but perhaps you can make peace with-” The preacher’s pompous monologue is cut short by the rushing of air behind him. He shudders, sensing the oncoming threat, and ducks swiftly, barely dodging the staircase that swings past him. Looking back at the source of the staircase, he sees Shizuka on her feet again, stooping, blood still draining from her neck, but her eyes are as resolute as ever. From her jacket pocket, she draws the switchblade Kilo gave to her.

“I really hope this works,” she wheezes. “If not, then this’ll be a really stupid way to die.”

With that, she plunges the knife into her neck, right into the cut, and starts running the blade along the wound. Dust grimaces in displeasure at first, but then notices that rather than cutting deeper, the flesh closes along the path of the blade. An action intended to harm instead heals.

“You’ve adapted well to GANGSTA’S PARADISE…” Dust declares, raising the bible. “But it counts for nought, as long as I am in control of this world!” Dust’s book strikes her, but immediately, he senses something wrong. “You are not...!”

Shizuka smirks as the book hits her across the face. The strike blows a chunk off from the side of her head, revealing a glowing cavity. The body transforms into light, nothing more than a hard light clone. Dust turns just as the real Shizuka swings another Escher staircase at him. He guards, taking the strike, which sends him flying backward.

“How is she standing?! The carbon dioxide poisoning should still be affecting her!” As he flies, he notices Shizuka’s face, cheeks are puffed out, filled with air. “She’s holding her breath?! Of course! If breathing itself was killing her, then all she had to do was stop breathing!”

Dust lands feet first into a mirror, as he starts merging with it. “Just as I thought,” he thinks, staring at his opponent from his esoteric vantage. “She’s too strong. It’s not only her ability or her fighting prowess. It’s not even her intelligence! It’s everything! That persistent personality and her creativity; all of it makes her dangerous! Without a doubt, this girl... is the strongest opponent I’ve ever fought!” Before long, he slips completely out of view, planning his means of attack.

Shizuka glares into the mirrors. When he doesn’t reappear, she begins to sigh, then stops herself, careful not to exhale anymore precious oxygen. “Well, it worked,” she reflects. “But even so, my body’s running off the oxygen I’ve currently got left. Like a motorcycle running on gas fumes, I’ll break down sooner or later.”

She walks up a staircase and glances up. Above, GANGSTA’S PARADISE hangs in its usual position, never moving on its own accord. Shizuka glances into a nearby mirror, then another. In all of the mirrors, everything is reflected, except for the Stand itself. In the entire twisted dimension, there is only ever one GANGSTA’S PARADISE.

“I have one big advantage: While Dust in his mirrors, I can’t touch him. But the Stand is always in this space with me. If I can attack the Stand directly, then I can win! All I need to do is figure it out… What’s the source of its power?”

Shizuka rubs her stiff neck, unable to see the ominous discoloration around the scar left by the cut. She remembers the bright flash of light that beamed from GANGSTA’S PARADISE, right before the world was changed. The light that engulfed everything in sight. She pauses on the steps and stares, realization hitting her like a brick.

The light…

Before she can act on her realization, Shizuka staggers to the ground in front of the Stand, shivering like she’s freezing. A dark chill moves under her chest.

“What!?! What is this?... Why do I feel… like ice is forming under my skin!!” She inspects her chest. The veins over her breastbone bulge ghoulishly. “HOLY SHIT!! What did that bastard do now?!” 

Dust’s voice answers promptly, desperation peeking out from beneath his smugness.

This is not my doing, but your own, Shizuka Joestar! Blood is red because of oxygen! The purpose of blood is to spread life-giving oxygen through the body! GANGSTA’S PARADISE reverses everything it touches, warping its intentions! Now I ask you, what happens if GANGSTA’S PARADISE touches your blood?!

At that moment, Shizuka remembers the blue blood from earlier.

Yes! The blood cells deprive themselves of oxygen and turn blue! And now, by your own hand, that toxic blood runs through your body! Once it reaches your heart, there will be no hope for you!!

Shizuka looks down and stares at the blade she reverse-cut herself with, stained with darkened blood.

Bleed out, and I win! Heal yourself, and I still win! Every action you take benefits me! I told you: The moment you entered this place, MY place, you were doomed!! So long as I have this power, I am fated for victory!!! This is the penalty for rejecting my offer, Shizuka Joestar!!!

The girl can do nothing else but fall to the floor, as the Escherspace begins to crumble away. Dust takes out his terrible black book, leering down at her. .

When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways!

The voice echoes and throbs in Shizuka’s ears, stage whispers like rusty nails scratching her from inside her ears. She can feel the thin membranes of her eardrums, afflicted by the evil sounds. The cold blood pumps through her veins, drawing closer to her heart. She knows, in her mind, they cannot endure this attack for much longer.

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known!

She screams for the voices to stop, but she cannot tell if she screams it with her own voice or in her mind. Her eyes roll wildly, her heart rate accelerates, seeing the man in white surround her on all sides, sneering at her through infinity. Overhead, the chandelier swings, mimicking the sick joy of its master, the unnatural light bathing the refracted world in sickly pale blue.

So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love!

Misshapen light. So unlike that of the sun, which was full, warm and life-giving. The same light Shizuka drew her power from. Compared to that, this was just a pale pretender.

[neverendingparable]

KuroŌji

This wouldn’t leave my mind until I wrote it. Inspired by the fact that no matter how cool a black butler AU would be, there’s no way Phobos would go around serving a human being (probably?). And so...

@sassycompanions

TW for mentions of torture through sleep deprivation, death, and demon shenanigans.

Sleep deprivation did all kinds of things to you.

He knew it well by now, the familiar agonizing ache of forced wakefulness, how it felt like to be so tired he wanted to sob or whimper or beg for mercy.

But the experiments kept on going, relying on his unwilling participation to find and remove whatever obnoxious part of the human mind robbed society those precious eight hours of their lives.

If they could cure sleep, they would change the world. And get very, very rich. And that sort of purpose is enough to dismiss a few human lives no one would truly mourn for.

Hallucinations were common. They twisted at the edges of his vision at first, then crept closer, getting bolder and more frequent. He'd hear breathing next to his ear and see no one there when he'd turn his head. Or the soft murmur of voices roused him from his miserable thoughts, lingering even when he'd focus.

Sometimes he'd like to imagine they were his shadowy friends, unable to help other than keeping him company for however long he had left. Or he'd imagine this was a horrid nightmare he could wake up from, that the cage and the needles and the never ending torture for the sake of science were nothing but a mean trick his mind was playing on him when in reality he was tucked away safely in some bed, safe and loved, the real world's whispers seeping into his dreams.

But as vivid as they were, they never interacted much with him, their shapes disappearing when he'd grasp at them.

So when one night, one of the shadows reached through the bars of his cage and gave him a curious prod, he knew something was off.

The sudden touch startled him so badly, he nearly leapt across the cramped space to get away from the shadowy hand whose owner, a dim face half visible in the darkness, was now watching him with amusement.

They stared at each other for a couple of moments.

This is a vivid dream, he thought finally.

Ah, not quite~ a voice responded in his head. It was melodic, with a hint of an accent he couldn't quite place. None of the previous voices were this coherent.

I've gone insane, haven’t I? Took long enough, I suppose.

Darling, you're not even halfway there yet.

The experiment closed his eyes and shook his head fiercely. When he opened it again, the shadow hadn't disappeared.

You're still here?

Did you think it would be that easy?

Who are you?

The shadow's smile stretched wider, inhumanely so and despite all the horrors he had gone through before, the sight struck him with dread.  Its voice scratched on the inside of his mind like fingernails on bone, making him shudder.

เ ค๓ ץ๏ยг ฬ๏гรt ภเɠђt๓คгє

He wanted to scoff, laugh and tell the shadow it was a little too late to the party. But then it twisted its form, for just a minute, and the face that leered out from behind the shadows made his heart stop in terror. A beat later it was back to being indistinct, floating between the cage bars, amused at his ever growing fear.

Have you come to kill me? He thought, unsure what answer he was hoping for.

No, it grinned back.

Then...

Don't you remember? You called me. You want to make a deal with the ๔єvเl, you foolish human.

But don’t you see that no matter they do to you, เ ςคภ ๒є ๓ยςђ ฬ๏гรє~?

It prodded his forehead with a shadowy finger and he believed it. The experiments here could break his body  before his spirit but this...demon, it could reach into his mind and cut the very cords that tethered him to sanity. It could probably rip his soul out if it wanted to.

But it was looking for something. It wouldn't have come just to kill an abomination that would be dead in less than a few weeks. He felt another thing right then, something more painful than the hellish torment his body had endured and with this tiny flame of hope burning inside of him, he reached out and asked to be saved.

Protect me, he begged. And I'll serve you however you want.

The being reached into the cage and he placed a hand in its cold palm. It seemed pleased.

We have a deal.

                                            ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

"Just kill me already, please." Mason moaned, staring at the list of tasks he had just been handed with a mix of despair and annoyance.

Rooms to clean.

Supplies to stock up on, which meant a trip into town.

Writing and sending off letters address to various partners of his Lord, shady or dangerous people who dropped off packages and signed contracts even he didn't get to look at.

Tending to rose bushes, watering the garden, just to name a few.

"Tsk, that would go against our contract." Came the reply, filled with feigned indignance.

Mason's head snapped up and glowered at the man lounging on the regal couch, watching him with obvious mirth.

A butler who complained about work was worthless in most households and would be replaced by yes men who followed every command with a docile bow. But that would be too boring, wouldn’t it?

His Lord allowed him the occasional grumble without any severe reprimanding because Phobos took great delight in his suffering and never missed an opportunity to point out how serving a high maintenance prince was a hell of a lot better than rotting away in some moldy cage.

He was right, of course.

"I restocked this yesterday!" Mason continued regardless. "And we don't have any guests over for at least another week, why do I need to clean the rooms out now?"

"You can't possibly know that," the prince replied, calmly picking up a porcelain tea cup with a graceful hand. "I may be expecting guests."

"Shouldn’t you tell me then? Seeing how I am your butler and need to know if we are expecting company?"

"Ah, do you?" Phobos' eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "It seems like you spend more time arguing and whining than being useful."

Mason opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"Of course, my Lord." He sighed, giving him a disingenuous bow. "I apologize."

Phobos dismissed him with a wave that meant 'now don’t bother me again unless it has something to do with food, wine or actual entertainment' and Mason withdrew back into the kitchen to check with Charlotte if they have enough food for any surprise visits Phos the future threw at them.

(He was convinced that Phobos sometimes threw impromptu balls just to watch him scramble around desperately arranging catering and schedules at last second.)

When the shadowy figure had first pulled him out of that hell hole, Mason had expected a lot of things. A culling, perhaps. Hell. A place of punishment.

Instead, he got a butler costume, his name back and a grand, luxurious dark castle to look after, spoiled prince included.

Learning to serve was hard but Phobos refused to go easy on him, giving him elaborate instructions of how he wanted things and forcing him to spend hours perfecting the chores. When Charlotte eventually came into their midst, he was happy to hand over the cooking to someone else.

Mason never figured out why the prince kept them around - maybe out of loneliness or boredom or a hidden sinister plan yet to be discovered - but he kept up his end of the deal.

A few times, someone came for Mason. Their bodies never left the castle and he burned the remains in the basement's hearth.

Months after his rescue, a rich doctor stopped by for a visit. He had only one servant along, a sickly looking maid with hollow eyes. What had happened behind closed doors was unknown to them both, but when Mason came to serve tea, he found the doctor, lying in a pool of his own blood. He had sent the maid back into the kitchen before she could see the mess and wordlessly cleaned the blood off his Lord's hands.

Thus Charlotte joined their little party.

Mason learnt a few things about Phobos too, in the time they spent together. 

He had a different name, once upon a time and a past he spoke of occasionally with a hint of derision and disgust. He had been a powerful tyrant, reflected in the way his guests spoke in his presence. He had a curse that tore him apart and left him exhausted, his room always smelling faintly of blood afterwards. None of Mason's questions were ever answered directly, so he learned to keep spare bed sheets and healing flasks at hand, knew how to recognize the signs of pain when his Lord was too proud to ask for help and ended up on a first name basis with the witches in town in his search for a cure.

You can't cure a demon, Phobos mocked him constantly. 

Mason disagreed. 

If a soul could be redeemed by a deal with the devil, then he felt quite confident of attempting the impossible.