#GIVE ME MORE WOMEN CORRUPTED BY THEIR RAGE AND PAIN

[schrodingers-hoarding-problem]

something about women with obvious barely contained rage makes the world seem correct again

[beevean]

addendum to the 'Hector is a misogynist' being a very weird read of his character because i don't really want to put that person on blast or derail the OP lol:

Hector being an out-and-out -ist of any flavour seems odd to me because he himself was shunned and hated by society for some perceived flaw he couldn't help - i think he'd be intelligent and sensitive enough to not want to perpetuate that same kind of mindless hatred, or he wouldn't have defected

you could argue being raised in a vampire's castle that is a hotbed of evil and godlessness might have put some funny ideas in his head, and, yes, the time period certainly doesn't help but if we're going with the idea that 'church bad' and is the sole cause of misogynistic thinking, then would't that same godless environment promote beliefs that's counter to any religious doctrine? isn't that cultish 'we're all equals here' part of the appeal that made Hector stay for so long?

plus, the way Hector displays having gentlemanly manners (apologizing and bowing to Julia before taking his leave) leads me to believe that he was expressly educated against that sort of thinking - maybe only because of his role as a servant, and possibly Lisa being the only woman he'd encounter up until meeting Rosaly, coupled with her role as Lady of the Castle, meaning Hector would have to act respectfully towards her at all times, so it sort of becomes his 'default' state when interacting with any women from that point on

the most misogynistic thing Hector's actually ever done is kill his own mother, but we both know that's because she was physically abusive towards him on whats implied to be a regular basis and not just because she's a woman lmao

like. i'm not trying to be 'my blorbo is more socially aware and morally cOrReCt compared to your blorbo' but this is just. not a facet of his character that exists in any way

Like. First of all, getting over your dead wife that quickly is certainly morally questionable, but it's not what I'd call toxic masculinity. Wikipedia gives this summary:

The concept of toxic masculinity is used in academic and media discussions to refer to those aspects of hegemonic masculinity that are socially destructive, such as misogyny, homophobia, and violent domination. These traits are considered "toxic" due in part to their promotion of violence, including sexual assault and domestic violence. Socialization of boys sometimes also normalizes violence, such as in the saying "boys will be boys" about bullying and aggression.

The topic of male hegemony doesn't belong in the series at all. The absolute worst you can say is that Hector reacted to his pain with violent rage, which is a stereotypically masculine response and yes, could lead to harm. But:

unlike Dracula, who spread his misery through all of Europe and involved innocents, Hector only targeted Isaac, the primary culprit of his loss. Aside from yelling at some people, he never harms anyone who isn't directly involved in his quest.

it's stated in the game itself that that rage was exacerbated by Dracula's Curse, and when Hector realized what was going on, he was horrified, and said textually that "this is not me". It's not the same as a man killing his gf in a fit of passionate rage, because that rage wasn't even his! He was being corrupted by the Curse!

he doesn't even end up killing Isaac directly. Death uses Isaac as a vessel, which kills him, and Hector understands that he can't fully blame Isaac for his evil actions, because both of them were victim of the same Curse and manipulations. Is that toxic to you?

Hector displays unmanly signs of grief as well. He's suicidal, cries when overcome by emotion, and thinks he has to pay for the right to be loved. This is the complete opposite of toxic masculinity, that teaches men that they are entitled to women's love and sexual favors.

fucking Isaac displays more toxic masculinity than Hector. My man killed Hector's new lover out of jealousy. Sure, he also did it out of revenge and to lure him for his plan, but let's be real here: he acts like a dumped boyfriend lmao.

I wouldn't even say that Hector killing his mother was misogynistic. Aside from the fact that he also killed his father, that murder had nothing to do with gender. There is a difference between, for example, a male robber killing a female cashier during a robbing, and a man killing his ex-girlfriend because she broke up with him: only the latter is considered a femicide and an expression of misogyny.

Hector displays a chivalrous attitude towards Rosaly and Julia. He helps the former even when he didn't know how, and is almost impeccably polite towards the latter (he yells at her when he suspects she's Isaac's ally, but when she explains herself he's quick to apologize). If you want to see this as benevolent sexism, be my guest, but it is not, in any stretch of the word, toxic masculinity. It's just, well, politeness and respect.

And no, even assuming that he and Julia do end up together post game, that's not toxic masculinity either. Disrespectful towards Rosaly? Sadly yes. Disrespectful towards Julia if the main reason Hector grew attracted to her was her resemblance with Rosaly? Also sadly yes. But it is not toxic masculinity, it's not about male hegemony, it's not about normalizing male violence.

Anyway, going into headcanon territory: while Dracula isn't certainly jugging Respect Women Juice lmao, he's not an outright sexist (especially not pre-Lisa's death), so he might have taught Hector and Isaac to respect Lisa and by extention the women in the castle (except succubi, no one likes succubi lol). And yes, it could be precisely to fight back the Church-influenced sexism of the time. I can imagine Hector seeing a bit of Lisa into Rosaly too, which might have influenced him to be more respectful than he would have been at that point in time.

i also find the idea of dracula teaching his boys to not be homophobic with the exact same logic hilarious. i mean the logic flows :P

[toxic-gorgon]

Yandere Dio Brando x Reader: Useless

Synapsis: You are one of the last hamon users and while the practice itself has died along Lisa Lisa, except for a tiny handful of users. While most are willing to allow their gifts to die out and go about their daily lives, you want to put yours to good use and join the crusaders.

Content Warning: Extremely dark themes, click the read more at your own risk! Non-con, blood, yandere Dio, depression/hopelessness, corruption kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, talks of su*cide, violence, and extremely spicy themes. 18+, minors DNI! By continuing to read, you understand the risk.

When you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, you knew the chances of you dying for Mr. Joestar’s cause was almost inevitable. Your gifts were nothing compared to the powerful and unique stands that you came across during the start of your journey. You were one of the last remaining hamon users, but instead of allowing it to fizzle out like the others who trade their gifts for normal lives, you wanted to help and be useful! Lisa Lisa long passed and you heard stories of how hamon saved the world. Allowing hamon to die was allowing a part of yourself to die. 

Hamon was useless against stands, but worked wonders against humans and vampires. However, you primarily used yours for healing and support! The crusaders could use all the help they could get, so it made sense when the directors approached you for the task. Their lives are in your hands, and if it means to put an end to the vampyric Dio’s reign, then you’ll do your part and make sure these boys stay alive.

That’s what you thought at the beginning, back before your days meshed together and all time seemed to stagnate. 

You weren’t sure how many days it’s been since you first arrived in this suffocating manor in Cairo. The dark and coldness inside the manor contrasts the warm and vibrant colors outside your window during the day. You were ever the spunky one when you first arrived, you knew your friends were well on their way and you had no problem voicing that fact loudly in Dio’s presence. He would scoff, flashing you an amused grin, after all you were (as what he puts it) like a fangless, clawless feline. You don’t pose any real threat, but it’s cute to see you try. 

Dio is every bit what the rumors said. His raw charisma and power alone should frighten you, but that’s just one piece of the puzzle that’s Dio Brando. His beauty was truly breathtaking, much more so in person, his shirtless form proudly displayed like a painting hung carefully in the Louvre. His voice charmingly suave, almost a mesmerizing melody that beckons you closer like a siren’s call that you can’t block out. Worst of all was his eyes, that piercing gaze of his that can see right through you, all your worst fears and highest hopes, nothing can be hidden from this man. 

When you first arrived at his mansion, you were awestruck. Cat-got-your-tongue indeed as you drank in the imposing monster of a man, your enemy. What could he possibly want from you? His smirk makes your chest clench as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You wanted to run, and you would’ve if it wasn’t for you being so goddamned weak. You were completely at his fucking mercy, all he had to do was give the word and you would meet your end. You expected to die right then and there, surely a man like Dio would take out his enemy while he had the chance, just so later down the line it won’t bite him in the ass. You weren’t sure if it was out of pity or amusement, but your death never came. Instead, the cocky asshole smriks and gives you his blessing to tour his home. Hell, he even allowed you access to his library, on the grounds that if you did decide to run, you would be all too easy to catch. You were convinced this man had no real plan for you being here, besides making things much harder for the crusaders by stealing away their healer. 

You were determined to keep your head held high and wait for your knights in shining armor. 

But now, you’re just a shallow husk of despair. All the hope and conviction you had died little by little as the days went by, as those dark thoughts that Dio would mock you with began to take root. There’s no point in brainwashing you when your conviction can be shattered so easily. During the day, Vanilla Ice and Pet Shop watch over you. You absolutely loathe Vanilla Ice. His blind devotion towards his master churned your stomach, all the while he’s looking down on you and lack of stand ability. His words stung, but now they mirror static, background noise for your chaotic thoughts. 

Pet Shop was your preferred caretaker. He’s a bird, so he can’t talk like your other wardens. However, you could’ve sworn you saw that bird smirk once or twice, and his steely gaze mirrored his cocky yet powerful master. Perhaps the bird was silently judging you, even mocking you for being more caged than he was. After all, Pet Shop was allowed to move past the mansion’s windows and enjoy the fresh air and sun, even though he stayed within his bounds. A murder hawk has more freedom than you do.

The nights are always the worst. Screams of ecstasy or pain, you weren’t sure which anymore, filled the halls. After a while of being imprisoned, they all sound the same. How long before you’re next? You felt like it was any day now, and eventually your captor will grow bored of your constant banter. Perhaps that would be for the best, you’re dead weight anyway as long as you remain here.

Your friends were on a mission to save Holly, which you admit is more important than rescuing you. You knew the risk after when you joined this crusade, you just didn’t think it would end here in the lion’s den. You contemplated jumping out the window, not caring how painful the initial impact would be. You always decide against it, and instead sit and wait, chalking it up to being a coward as well. Everyday when your saviors hadn’t come, the little bit of hope inside was crushed gradually until barely anything was left besides tears of frustration and a luxurious queen sized bed to help you sleep.

Since you’ve been here, Dio took the liberty of making sure you’re fed three five star meals a day and accompanying you with a wine glass of blood. Such a gentleman, he even made idle chit-chat while you refused to take a bite (no matter how many times he told you it would be a waste poisoning you). Dio boasted about his many achievements, including how he stole Jonathan Jostar’s body, which you weren’t sure if he was just bragging or making sure that even in a casual setting, the threat still lingered. Was this supposed to impress you? Because the only responses you ever gave him were snide remarks and silence. Sometimes he would treat this like a silly game, but on days when he was more temperamental, you wisely chose to nod your head and actually eat what’s in front of you.

He made sure you were treated well, despite your situation. You bathed in a tub fit for a princess with fancy soaps and perfume, and was dressed in the finest of authentic Egyptian gowns that money could buy. All of which were gifts from Dio. He even took the liberty to do away with all your drab belongings and anything that didn’t fit his opulent aesthetic. He even gave you art supplies once. Whenever he gave one of these gifts, he always made sure to attach a rose with it. You always throw them out.

To occupy yourself when your host is gone and taking time for himself, you like to venture to his library and thumb through his vast selection. You’re sure you read over half of his stock by now, but something new always catches your eye to pass the time with. Usually you would saunter off into your room, avoiding the underlings as much as possible, but tonight was one of those nights where Dio met you there. 

“There you are darling, I was worried I missed you.” His smooth voice did little to put you in ease. 

“What do you want?” you sighed, making your way to the bookcase and browsing through different titles. Dio playfully scoffs, as always everything you say is just a game to him, and the disdain in your tone goes unnoticed. You didn’t move an inch when he moved closer to you, towering over your much smaller frame.

“You wound me dear, I only wish to spend time with you.” He leans in close next to your ear, his warm breath tickling your lobe. “Alone.” Now that’s laughable! Dio Brando isn’t a man who did anything out of kindness or ‘quality time’ without something in return. Did he run out of bodies to satisfy his hunger? What could you possibly offer him besides a snack?

“Spend time with you? I’ve seen what you do to the men and women who throw themselves at you for a sliver of attention. Their dead carcass lay about your manor like furniture when you’ve drained them.” You barely whispered. Why were you explaining his misdeeds to him like a child? You weren’t sure if you were trying to reason or reach the last thread of humanity within, but doubt was clearly written on your face. You wanted this to end.

You balled your hands into fists and shook with rage. “Just kill me and get it over with! I’m tired of you and I’m tired of being here!” 

Dio couldn’t help but sneer at your sudden outburst. How can you say these things? He’s given so much to you, and this is how you repay him? Do you not realize what you do to him? How weak he is while in your presence? How absurd. You had to have known, and perhaps you were testing his patience on purpose.

Reaching up and gripping your chin roughly, Dio kept your gaze on him. “I ask very little of you and have given you everything you could ever ask for. Tell me darling, are you truly unhappy?” his lips brush against your own, and his voice dangerously low that it sent shivers down your spine. Your voice was caught in your throat, this tower of a man standing over you so domineering makes you seem insignificant. Like a large cat ready to pounce on his prey. 

Tears run down your cheeks and you had no will to stop them. Why was he doing this to you? As if to answer your question, the blonde captures your lips and wraps his arms around your trembling form. With a jolt of energy you tried to shove him off you in defiance for your space. “Please stop, I don’t want…” you mumble. Growling, Dio pulls away and glares into your glossy puffy eyes, his brows furrowing when you don’t give in so easily.   

“Pet.” he said through gritted teeth, his hand drifting down to your neck and squeezing rough enough to cut off air supply. “You’re being selfish. All I asked from you in return is your loyalty and to surrender yourself to me.” He picks you up by your neck and amusingly smirks when you gasp and attempt to wiggle free, your hands desperate for air. Your nails grazing his skin with little scratches did nothing to phase Dio, instead he chuckles.

“Funny, isn’t it? The man’s body I’ve taken, the only man I would ever call my equal, possesses the same power as you do.” Black dots formed in your vision and your legs grew tired from flailing. He lets you drop from his grip, and while you sit slumped over and choking on air for your burning lungs, Dio looks down with his ruby hues. “Suppose my interest in you is fate, or perhaps you remind me of him.” Bending down to kneel in front of you, Dio pulls you towards his chest and picks you up bridal-style with very little resistance from you. He smirks and leans in to whisper in your ear “However, your strength will never match his.” 

Dio took flawless strides towards the desk on the other side of the room and pinned you down on your stomach against the harsh oak surface. With the wind knocked out of you temporarily, Dio traced his long nails along the soft chiffon fabric of your golden gown before tearing it to shreds down the middle, revealing your back and ass as the now useless fabric pools at your feet. Looking back at your captor’s sadistic smirk, your bloodshot eyes widen with realization. You were observant, he didn’t need to spell out what his intentions were. 

Almost immediately, Dio parts your legs with his knee and runs his fingers along your slit, examining it’s beauty before he decimates it with his cock. Squirming, you tried to push yourself up from the desk. As weak as you were, you had to try! Even though you knew Dio had more than enough strength to overpower you. As if he read your mind, he takes both of your wrists in his strong grip and pins them against your back. 

“Careful dear, you wouldn’t want me to break your arms, would you?” You stopped your struggling and stilled. It was best to get it over with and maybe if you comply, he won’t be as harsh with you, right? Just let him do what he’s going to do and don’t make it worse for yourself. “That’s better!” He smiles. “Lay there and trust your Lord Dio. Don’t worry about a single thing.” Don’t worry? How can you not? But, you did as he said and Dio goes back to running his fingers along your pussy, this time his index flicking against your clit. 

Biting your bottom lip, you shut your eyes tight. Be strong….be strong…. You chanted, but the small shocks of having your clip played with after being in turmoil for so long, it was difficult to not give yourself over for anything that can make you feel a moment of blissful ignorance. You were convinced that either Dio was a mindreader, or you were just so painfully obvious, but he stops his ministrations with your heat and leans in closer, he carelessly grinds his clothed hardened cock against you. He was quite proportioned. 

“Let’s enjoy ourselves, hmmm?” You shuddered at his words (and sizable bulge), a small whimper escaping you. Pleased with your sudden turn around, Dio leans back and without missing a beat, undoes his pants, allowing his cock weeping of precum to spring free. You swallow down a moan when his cock rubs against your clit, teasing your lips. Your cunt quickly became sloppy, as you were beginning to come around and throw caution to the wind. Dio must’ve noticed, because chuckles and mutters. “Don’t hide your cute noises from me now.”

With his cock soaked with your juices, he thrusts in and you do as he says, allowing a hoarse moan erupt from your throat that’s muffled by your face against the desk. This wasn’t going to do, not for Dio. While thrusting at a brutal pace, he yanks your hair back and lifts your head so he can listen to your lustful melodies more clearly. While you pant like a bitch in heat whenever he hits that spot to make you see stars, Dio releases your wrists in favor of gripping your hip tightly, leaving bruises. 

Gasping, you didn’t move your wrists for fear of your lord stopping or worse. Pleased by your obedience, Dio’s pace quickens, just for him to slow down to a tortuous pace. Flustered you cry “W-Why? Please….please….m-more!” You try to turn your head, but his strong grip keeps you in place. What a wonderful development! Definitely a change in the right direction from how you rejected him a few moments ago. But, Dio wasn’t quite satisfied yet. He wanted your everything, not only your spur-of-the-moment submission. He’s Dio Brando, Lord Dio to his brood. He doesn’t settle for less than satisfactory.

With a grin, Dio knew just how he would achieve this. “You beg so pretty darling, I see you’re finally coming to understand who owns you. But begging isn’t enough.” When he started moving again, this time his cock kissing your cervix, your mouth hung agape in a silent scream. Your thoughts thoroughly scrambled with nothing but the pleasure that Dio was offering you. Hell, you weren’t even coherent when your position changed to you being on your back with your legs spread wide and exposed, only for Dio. 

He picks up his pace, your cunt constricting around him as he pounds into your sore pussy, his hand now free from your hair pressed down your abdomen. He felt the slight belly bulge from him delving into your sweet cunt, simply delicious. “Darling-” He said too sweetly. “- You’re absolutely stunning so full of my cock, but I have a wonderful idea. I didn’t appreciate your attitude this evening, but I know how we can fix that!” You were too fucked out to comprehend his words, but nodded like the dumb slut you were. His dumb slut. “I’m going to breed this pussy of yours, fill you up with my cum, and you’re going to take everything I give you. Wouldn’t that be great? You grow big and round while your breasts are full with leaking milk.” He pauses as his hips sputter, his cock pulsating with the vision of you growling his children within your womb. 

“Yes..I think motherhood will suit you well. Forever my ___.” 

Whimpering, you nod in agreement. Whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t stop. You were so very close! You mumble a breathy fuck when Dio pushes your legs up to your shoulders, diving in much deeper than before. Chanting strings of curses under his breath, Dio’s hand on your stomach drifts down to vigorously rub your sensitive nub and in almost no time at all you cum around his member, your juices rushing out to soak the desk and his cock. 

“Oh god...oh god...oh god..” you chanted, making Dio’s ego inflate more if that were possible. Smirking, he lets you ride out your orgasm, before picking up the pace yet again, this time losing control of himself for once. Brutally he fucks you, his cockhead slamming against your cervix, as your pulsing walls from your aftershocks urges his throbbing shaft, begging to milk it. After a few final thrusts, Dio stills and his cock paints your womb with his seed. 

He wasn’t done yet. Chuckling at your fucked out expression, it was so much like Dio to push for more. He wanted to mark you, make everyone but mostly yourself to know who you belong to. Your chest will do and his mark will be on full display. Using the nail on his index finger, Dio carves his name into your chest, pebbles of blood dripping down your sweaty and spent body after each scrape was made. When he is done, he admires his work, his name etched into your skin almost makes his cock spring back to life. What was he kidding, he could go a few more rounds anyway. But first, he leans in and laps up the blood, waste not want not right?

“There you are, how stunning. Darling, I wish you could see yourself right now.” Your eyes grew heavy, you were so exhausted and ready for a nap. Dio picks you up and doesn’t bother to cover you with your shredded rags. “No, no, don’t pass out now. We have a long night ahead of us.”

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Attack Of The Winter Wolf: Reality Takes Over

Summary- 8.6k Alpha Steve x Little One Reader. Visiting the reformed Pierce Pack, now under a new Alpha’s leadership, Caine. The young Alpha has a few questions for Steve. You and Steve seem to have finally found them at peace, but it still reaffirms that now your home is with your mate. Unfortunately it all comes crashing down in a matter of moments. Divider made by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Dominating Sex, violence, swears. This is an 18+ Blog

A/N- A friend sent me a GIF that inspired the sexual scene in this fic. If any should want to see the GIF, send me a DM as I wont be posting it on my page due to the content of it. Thank you so much for continuing reading The Packs journey in this next stage. Thoughts and Questions are always welcome. Happy Howling. 🐺💙

Chapter One / Masterlist

Steve had to admit that Caine had really changed it all around in the months he has taken over. His pack was more relaxed and open, no longer living with the fear of a crazy Alpha. Steve watched his Little One pausing every now and then to greet a former pack mate while he simply stayed nearby watching You interact with your old pack mates. Even though he knew You still carried connections with them, it wasn't the same because now you were his. You constantly danced back to him, your body seeing his reassuring touch, either taking his hand once more to weave your fingers with his or slipping under his shirt to press your palm to his back. It was all about the connection, You and the Little Wolf always establishing that bond. Steve felt a calmness wash over him at your desire to remain close. Every time a soft praising rumble would rise from him making you pleased. 

Soon Caine and Kat found the two of you “Welcome back, thinking about staying here Y/N?” The woman teased as she loped her arm through yours on the opposite of Steve. You scoffed with a shake of your head. 

“And give up all the work I did with him? Hell no.” You joked, patting Steve's chest and smirking up at him. He growled in a mock warning and nipped at your nose before letting You go with a nudge, which you split off with Kat, going to catch up. Steve and Caine watched the women for a moment till Caine broke the silence. 

“This is a side I have never seen of Y/N, it's good.” Caine observed in which Steve turned his attention from You leaving him and cleared his throat. 

“Well I'm sure she has the same observations as all of you. Not living in fear will work wonders. The whole pack looks pretty good. While we were walking around, everyone is so content here. Have nothing but to say how good an Alpha you are.”  

Caine gave almost a youthful excited look at the comment before clearing his throat to gain his composure in the other Alphas presence. 

<I like this kid.> The Wolf yipped in Steve’s mind and Steve had to agree, knowing just how dedicated Caine was to his pack, even when he was nothing more than a captive. 

I do too, and Y/N trusts him. 

“Well thank you Steve, that means a lot. We deserve to just be a pack, a real and proper one. That was actually kinda why I sent Y/N a text inviting you two over. You see Ross has been sending members here, trying to talk to me about the Accords.” 

Steve rumbled slightly at the mention of Ross. He hadn't seen the council member since you ran him off last fall. And that was just fine by Steve, he already made it known that he wanted nothing to do with the Accords nor would be signing them to give up part of his control of his pack to the council. 

“And what do you think about them Caine? I’m sure they left a copy for you to read over.” he questioned, and Caine gave a slight wrinkle of his forehead considering how to answer the question. 

“Well, part of me wants to, as all of this to take care of seems almost overwhelming at times. I want nothing but the best for my Pack, but giving up the rights to finalize choices, letting the Council be able to override my decisions? Seems dangerous to give it up. They claim it's to further protect our safety, especially if an Alpha loses his sanity. Ross claims that is what happened to Pierce, was corrupted by Hydra and that nothing could be properly done, as Pierce had every right to do what he wanted being the Alpha.”

“Yeah fucking bullshit. Pierce never should have been an Alpha. I don’t know how he managed it.” Steve growled out angrily at Caine’s words. “And that supposed Council had everything they needed to step in, they just didn’t. They were waiting to see where Pierce could lead them, at the innocent wolves expense.” Steve shook his head, the Wolf now pacing in agitation for his human counterpart. Caine nodded in agreement. 

“What I thought as well when the Senator was trying to feed me this. I told him I would think about it. But I don't think that this is the best thing for us. We are still trying to recover and it's just hard to trust anyone right now. Giving up as Alpha, it just seems to go against our very nature.” 

“Go with what you feel in your gut Caine.” Steve said. “You know what is the best thing to do for your wolves, they trust you for a reason.” The new Alpha looked relieved at Steve, that he was actually doing the right thing after a lifetime of his family being mistreated.

Soldat jumped out of the van Clint managed to hot wire, switching vehicles every couple hundred miles in case they were being followed. The Alpha they had collected groaned as Soldat yanked on the chain, Pietro pushing her forward from behind. Soldat never even bothered to learn her name. 

Her name didn't matter, she was just the mission. 

The White Wolf licked his muzzle hungrily, eyeing the Alpha, feeling the challenge her Wolf’s presence brought. But she was subdued, after killing her mate, all fight in her left. It broke her. She followed behind Soldat obediently as Brock unlocked the door to the warehouse, dragging her in. 

“A female this time.” Brock gripped her face, twisting it so she had to look at him, his sneer growing wider as it roamed up and down her, Alanna rolling her eyes from behind him. 

“Not much of a looker if you ask me. How did she get to be Alpha?” 

Brock ripped his fingers away from her face, jerking her head back. “Not all Alpha’s are built on strength. But they are weaker, easier to control. Isn't that right Sweetheart. Put her in the back... there's a free cage back there for her. Oh and Soldat, enjoy yourself with her… she's a fine piece of tail.” 

Soldat didn't say anything, just grabbed the chain he was using to lead her and tug her away with him, the rest of the team dispersed to unload the van of their equipment and dispense of it.

Alanna cocked her head as she watched Soldat leave with their latest Alpha. “Why do you do that? Offer him those Alphas like he will actually take you up on it. If you want him to get laid, why not just order it?” 

Brock watched before he turned to Alanna. “He’s programmed to only fuck his mate, if he ever chooses one, then we know. Another way to control him.” 

“You really believe in that crock of shit? Soulmates?” Alanna snorted out and Brock snapped his teeth at her. 

“I see Rogers was quick to drop you without a regret and he went halfway around the world leaving his pack behind to save his new mate.” He challenged her and Alanna snarled at him, her rage flaring at the mention of her former partner. 

“Fuck you Brock.” 

“Later Sweetheart, I got more important shit to do.” His hand whipped out and snatched her by the back of her neck, twisting till Alanna yelled in pain. “Don't you forget who owns your ass now Bitch, you got the pretty scar to prove it.” He dropped her to scramble at his feet while he stepped away, leaving her wiping her face dry from the tears of pain he caused, composing herself. 

Brock whistled a cheery tune as he followed along after Soldat to see if he was going to take him up on his offer or not.  

When Soldat shoved the Alpha in, Brock came up next to him, pulling out his phone to snap a picture of her to file away for later. 

“Good work, I have another one for you to go for. Coordinates are already pinged to your device. This one should be easy for you, he is fairly new and you’ve met him before.” Soldat dug out his own device and pulled up the file, a picture of a younger man paired along with a black wolf, both man and beast shown. “Collect him and bring him here, kill off as many of the pack as you can.” 

Soldat frowned a bit looking at it, studying it when he felt a haze of a memory rise up. Several people mingling in a hotel room, people he didn't recognize and a voice coming from nearby. 

“If Natasha and Bucky hadn’t come… Thank You, to all of you.” The Black Wolf he was looking at right now laying on a bed looking like he had just been through a fight, panting heavily.

“It was the least we could do, I’m sorry we didn’t know earlier.” The same voice he had heard calling to him days before when retrieving the Alpha. The White Wolf shook his head aggravated and Brock's voice sharpened suddenly. 

“Soldat! ANSWER ME.” 

“Yes Sir, we will head out right away.” 

It was much later when you returned with Kat. Caine and Steve were sharing beers with other wolves, talking about general stuff, Steve doing his best to answer questions, explaining how he made his pack an asset to the community, bringing in income to the sleepy town below there mountain. It all felt like back at home, that you quickly settled back in. You sidled up to Steve's side, which his hand rubbed at your side and he dropped a kiss to your temple. “Thought I was going to have to go look for you, Little One.” He chuckled and you grinned up at him, taking his beer from his hand and sipping from it. 

“Like you didn't know where I was the whole time.” You scoffed and Steve shrugged, it was true. With your bond, as long as you two were nearby, it wasn't hard for either of you to find the other. The wolves easily slipped back and forth along that shared bond, tangling together in greeting and breaking out in play as you lightly nipped at Steve’s chest when you turned into him, pressing against his chest as he tightened his arm around you. 

“Sure I did, doesn't mean I didn't want to go find you and drag you away all for myself.” His voice husked in your ear, a flattening of his palm against your lower back pressed your hips into his and you could feel exactly why. 

Your hand smoothed against his pecs as you turned around, leaning back against his chest and taking another sip of the beer before giving it back to him. Steve's arm slung around your waist loosely while he nipped gently against your mark, making you tilt your head for him with a satisfied sigh before focusing once more on the small group milling around. 

“Would you consider coming back Y/N?” someone asked, a woman named Tess that you knew vaguely from the short amount of time she was for sale. Steve growled lowly at the question and you chuckled while pushing your hair back to flash your neck. 

“Most certainly not. You all will always be family, but I’m bonded with Steve now. My home is with him and where we decide to go together. Right now as Alpha, we’re staying in the mountains.” You stated and you felt Steve shuffle behind you, speaking up as well. 

“As long as your Alpha is fine with us visiting, Y/N will come back whenever she wants to. I know you all are her family and wouldn't ever ask her to push that away.” You could feel your Little Wolf howling to her mate, the satisfied warmth of her happiness flooding through you and you couldn't feel more content then you were right now. 

Caine was nearby, nuzzling up to Kat in a sneaky way. The two of them teasing at the edge of the group when suddenly Caine seemed to realize that the attention was on them from the others in the group. 

“Of course, Y/N, this is your home whenever you want to come. As well as any of your pack.” He cleared his throat. Kat hid her face a bit, trying not to give them away. 

“Thanks Caine.” You are quick to answer, deciding then that it was time to pull you and Steve away for the night, which made you twist to face him. “What do you say Alpha, ready to call it a night? I got something I want to show you.” 

Steve arched a brow at you, seeing how you were biting your lip and giving him a playful look. He gave a wave of his hand as you ran your fingers along his stomach through his shirt, pulling away from him, making him choke back a growl at the loss of your touch. “Nice meeting you all, see you tomorrow.” he said before walking stiff legged away. The rest of the wolves chuckled among one another at him trying to not be obvious. 

You sprinted ahead while Steve was saying goodbye, well away from the group now and sliding into the darkness of twilight quickly taking over and making the shade under the trees almost dark as night now. You could hear Steve quickly catching up to you, which made you put on a burst of speed. You weren't going back to the little cabin you two were calling home for the night. You wanted to play, wide awake and ready for your Alpha. Darting into the woods, you picked up speed to put more distance between you two and cupped your hands together around your mouth to give a soft howl, enticing him to come find you, hunt you down. The Little Wolf filled your mind, your eyes glimmering yellowed in the low light as you darted away from where you could hear Steve. 

<You keep crashing like this, he will find us in no time.> 

Well that is the point. 

The Little Wolf’s laughter filled your senses as you darted around a tree trunk, your hands pressing against the rough bark as you peered around, looking for any sign of movement. All your senses flared as you listened carefully for anything. Then to your left a snap made you jump, and the Little Wolf pounded her front paws, yipping. <Run! Run!> Turning the opposite way you raced off, panting as you picked up speed. 

When Steve first followed, he thought you would make straight for the cabin. But you had veered off, following your honeysuckle scent that he picked up and took the first step into the darkening woods. Inhaling deeply, it was filled with new scents. The sharpness of the pines, the fresh crushed needles where you passed through. The wolves who lived here mingled scent, and it was somewhat reminiscent of you when he first met you. But now… He drew it in deeper when he found yours, it was different, it was his. Warming in his lungs as he plucked it loose from everything else clashing his senses. It was the one that had that honeysuckle undertones, but now it was more intimate. It was a scent he was surrounded with when you pressed in against him, especially when you were just about to go into heat. A welcoming desired scent that left him aching hard and a smirk spread with a slight possessive growl rumbling through him now that he smelled it. Knowing that the sweetness would be dripping from you, his own honey pot. 

“Little One, you better run, because you certainly can’t hide.” he whispered as his footfalls were heavy at first. He could hear a giggle that you tried to muffle as you darted around trees and swiftly turned into trails that you found. The ferns growing under the forest swayed with your movements, some leafy fronds getting crushed in the process. Your howl echoed and bounced around, but Steve was hot on your trail, not being deterred. 

He saw you ahead, when you went around a particularly large trunk and Steve went to the right, quiet in his footfalls till he happened to finally managed to get around where you were trying to hide. You peered the opposite side, stretching a bit to look. Completely unaware of where Steve was. His fingers itched now to grab a hold of your waist, pull your ass back to grind against his hips, hear you shriek in surprise and fall back into his chest to look up at him with a grin. He knew how you would play this, trying to escape him with sweet kisses and wriggles to bolt again. As Steve attempted to sneak in closer, the pad of his foot happened to press against a twig and snapped it, making you twirl around on your toes wide eyed in surprise and Steve lunged forward to catch you, your back against the tree that was shielding you earlier and his arms caging on either side of your head. 

A surprise growl rolled through you when Steve pressed himself against you, catching you efficiently between him and the tree. Your hands fisted in his shirt and your eyes flashed yellow up at him. Flops of his hair fell forward on his forehead as his head dipped to yours, teasing lust filled kisses nipping on your lips, tugging at each other hungrily with groans. “Gotcha Little One.” Steve whispered, trailing his nose against yours, and his eyes closed while he inhaled against you. 

You dragged your teeth against your bottom lip while running your hands up his chest and fingers pressed through his beard to follow the sharp angle of his jaw. “You did Alpha, now what are you going to do about it?” 

Steve let your warm honeyed scent arouse him further, a sticky sweet honeypot of a mess his Little One was and he wanted to get his mouth on you, wrap himself around you till the whole world fell away. A cheeky grin crinkled the corners of his eyes, his grin turning wolfish in nature as he growled at you. “The Big Bad Wolf will eat you up.” 

Your head fell back as laughter burst out sharply, disrupting the quiet of the night. “Smooth Alpha.” 

He nipped on your mark, turning that laughter into a distressed needy moan as Steve's hands smoothed the back of your thighs to lift you up and wrap your legs around him. Pressing his erection against your core. “I ain’t nothing if I ain't smooth ‘Mega.” He stated before claiming your lips and pressing the length of his chest into yours, stealing your air from your lungs, and making you fist a hand at the back of his head, getting lost in him. 

Soldat scanned the small pack. Some of it felt familiar, but not enough for the Hydra Soldier to consider what it meant. This was just another hit on the list Brock had for his team to overtake. These wolves were lazy in the night time warmth. Lulled to think they were safe in their packs boundaries. The White Wolf flexed in Soldats mind, licking over his jaw in anticipation of hunting them down. Soldat tilted his head in the air, searching out what the scents could provide to him. 

The only thing out of place was the scent of two Alphas here. One was young, still new in leading the pack, the one he was after. His control would be iffy at best over the wolves unless their loyalty was already cemented to him. 

But the other stirred the White Wolf in Soldat. Making him flex anxiously a moment at the sensation. Another time, another place he knew this one. It lingered in his senses and he didn't like that. Making him clench his jaw as the White Wolf shook his fur in agitation, unsure of how he knew it. Brock's voice came over the comm in his ear, snapping out. “Is the team set Soldat?” 

Soldat moved from his crouch, retreating back to where the others waited. “You all know what to do. There are two Alphas this time, go for the younger one, get the other if you can.” he told his team. Silently as always they dispersed. None of them questioned the fact that there were two Alphas. They had their orders, nothing else needed to be considered. Clint going one way through the trees, and the twins another. Wanda started to simmer red where her powers took an unnatural form, solidifying to cause harm instead of heal. Soldat shoved knives in various places in his kevlar and fitted a mask to his face for protection. That other Alpha, it still left Soldat and his Wolf unsettled for reasons he couldn't place while he prepared himself. 

“Set and dispersed, starting extraction.” Soldat said into the comm, and not even thirty seconds later Pietro's snarls and howls started on the other side of the packs compound, Soldat came out of the trees, sniper rifle lifted aiming right for the sleeping group by the nearby bonfire.

Steve ground himself into you, his chest rumbling as his hands rubbed at your sides and cupped your breasts to squeeze and tease. Your head was tilted back against the tree, drawing in air best you could as your mate sucked on your neck, tracing his mark on you with his tongue, his dirty talk making you ache, and rolling your hips to create that friction. “Gonna fill you Little One. Stretch you open and leave you dripping my cum till you're pregnant with my pups.” 

God that made your heart race, knowing that he was going to knot you against that tree. His hands kept tugging and making you arch your back, wanting him to get rid of your clothes now and really lay claim to your body. It was a whirlwind of sensations prickling your skin in a heated way. 

But then you heard it, at first it barely registered when Steve sunk teeth into your collarbone. You almost ignored it, but the Little Wolf couldn't. She stirred through your hazed mind, making you focus again outside of your Alpha. Another howl, distressed. “Steve… wait.” You tugged at his hair to lift his head away, and he growled in warning at you that he didn't want to wait, but you pulled again. 

He lifted away from where he was tasting your skin, stilling his body and frowning slightly while panting. “What's wrong Little One?” 

“Listen Steve… something isn't right.” You loosened your hold now that you knew Steve was focusing on you and he tilted his head to listen. Inhaling deeply for any change in the air. He stepped back, letting you loosen your legs around his waist and slip to a stand. Cold chills laced up your spine, looking around as the night seemed to turn silent and dangerous. 

<We gotta go back to Caine and the others.> The Little One pressed against the Alpha, who was rigid next to her, searching himself for what she sensed. 

But did we actually hear anything? You looked around you, but Steve's hand shot out and caught your wrist in his hand to keep you from moving away from him. His eyes wide as he found what he was looking for. 

“Bucky… he’s here.” The Alpha rumbled out and that's when the yells rang out, the sharp rings of gunfire. 

“The others… we have to get back to the others Steve.” You tugged your wrist loose to sprint away and Steve lunged to catch you, but you were too quick, already streaking through the woods. 

“Y/N! Come back!” Steve yelled as he took off after you. Shedding clothes as you raced, the urge to listen to your Alpha made you falter, but not enough to make you stop. Soon you were falling to all fours, faster to make it back as the Little Wolf and you put on a burst of speed that had everything a blur around you. Soon at your side was a streak of silver as the Alpha attempted to keep up with you on unfamiliar ground. Your twists made him skid heavily into the trees and brush, but he was never far behind as he tried to over take you and before you could burst into the chaos just out of sight of the tree line, he snatched your ruff and jerked you off your feet. 

The Alpha twisted you underneath him, his jaws pinning you to the ground while you struggled, but he wouldn't loosen his hold until you stilled and your eyes rolled up to look at him, willing him to release you. He couldn't let you charge into the attack like this, and he loosened, nudging you to creep forward to see what laid beyond out of sight. Both of you stayed low to the ground slinking till breaking out from the forest to the underbrush to see what was going on. 

Bodies, your old pack littered the ground and your whine echoed so loudly in distress that the Alpha flattened his ears and pressed against you before slinking along the edge, trying to find the attackers. 

A heaviness filled Steve's chest because he knew exactly what he would find. His muscles coiled when he finally caught sight of Bucky, who was taking aim at Kat. She was unaware of him while trying to help the injured to their feet. 

You crouched next to him, quivering in shock and anticipation at seeing the missing members of the Pack. The Alpha growled out an order, demanding you help the others. As well as stay away from Bucky, the danger to great to risk letting you go near him. Bucky obviously wasn't in control right now. Once the Alpha was sure you understood, he nuzzled you quickly and split away, leaving you to wait till he had the soldier distracted. 

Soldat just happened to see the other Alpha coming at him before he could take his shot. Barely. He spun to block the large wolf from hitting him. Teeth sank into his meatal protected arm, the shield plates clinking together to hold up against the pressure of the bite and he heaved back, sending the wolf sprawling back. A smaller one bolted from their hiding spot, to reach the people he was just about to end. It didn't matter, one of the others would take care of them. Soldat turned his attention to the Alpha he had scented earlier, the one who didnt belong here. 

The Silver Wolf pushed back to his feet, his chest rising and falling with each inhale. Soldat knew he was scenting him, assuming it was for the animal to figure out what he was. Swinging the rifle over his shoulder to move it out of the way, he grasped for his belt to pull out a collar. The Wolf's ears flicked forward to what was in his hand and turned wary, stalking out of Soldat's reach. A low growl rippled through him, and the White Wolf ached to submit for just a moment, but it was easy to brush it away. 

<Attack him. He is not going to expect you to rush him.> 

Why did you stall? 

The White Wolf shook himself off, snarling out. <We have our orders.> Soldat heard the waver in him but started towards the Alpha. The Alpha matched his movements, picking up speed in his gait to collide back with him. <This ones got some balls.> Soldat heard the White Wolf remark.

All the more reason to get him collared and under control.

And just before they reached one another, the Alpha darted around him, making Soldat spin just to have the Alpha tackle him once more, teeth sinking into the kevlar of his suit. There was enough force to feel the bite, but nothing that could do damage. Fistfuls of fur was grabbed trying to wrestle him away and attempt to maneuver the collar around his neck. The Alpha managed to twist out of his hold in time and Soldat yanked a knife from a hidden spot, swinging it in an aim at the animal, trying to sink it into a vulnerable spot. Instead it grazed him, a spurt of red following the blades descent through its fur. A furious snarl demanding him to submit filled the air before man and wolf collided again. 

You were busy helping Kat try to get the others away, stalling for a moment when you saw Clint emerging from out of nowhere, his aim sighted on you and the others. He was just about to let loose when you saw Caine get dragged towards him, collared now. Seeing that they had that packs Alpha, he dropped his bow and followed along with Pietro and Wanda. Unsure of what to do, Steve had demanded you only be to help and stay out of the actual fighting before breaking from cover earlier. The Omega in you wanting to obey her Alpha, keep pushing others to go into hiding like Steve wanted. 

But these were your missing pack mates, and they were causing all the destruction. Everything in your senses screamed at you to go for them, as well as go back into hiding with Kat and the other survivors. Then the hot scent of blood hit you, your Alphas blood. All other thoughts left you as your nose lifted to find him. 

It was being hit in the worst way possible, stinging your senses with fear as you broke from Steve's earlier command. Long leaps ate up the ground as you sought him out. You found him trying to bite at Bucky's neck before being thrown to the ground in a way that vibrated the ground, a knee dropping to his ribs while Bucky collapsed full force on him, a flash of silver in his hand let you know. Steve was just about to be collared.  

The whole world just zeroes in on that moment, if you can't get there fast enough, you might lose Steve. He might be able to break free from Bucky's hold before the collar is attached. But you can't take that chance, and you make a grab for Bucky's wrist, closing fangs around the metal plates and wrenching back. Catching both of them by surprise, your back paws dig in for traction as you whip your head back and forth in a move meant to snap an animal's neck. It's enough to surprise Bucky and make him fall off the Alpha, the both of you tumbling away. It did earn you a well placed kick to your skull, which caused you to yelp while stunning you. 

The Alpha pushed himself up once Bucky rolled off him, unsure of what caused him to let go, but the Alpha wasn’t going to let him get the chance again. The yelp made the hair raise on his back, now seeing the reason Bucky released him. 

You disobeyed him, which resulted in your head getting kicked at and you crumpling to the ground in shock. The Alphas rage at your expense caused him to roar in fury, a whirlwind of fury attacking his best friend. 

The Alpha managed to back Soldat up, covering your smaller form with his body. The Alpha bristled, his muzzle rolling up to show fangs and ears pinned back flat against his skull, warning him back. Soldat stalled again with the sensation he was supposed to listen to this Alpha, shaking his head to clear the impulsion. 

“You got one of the Alpha’s, leave him.” Brock's voice screamed in Soldats ear, clearing it from the impulse. Soldat took off at a run, leaving the two of them behind. 

You push yourself back to a shaky stand, having the wind knocked out of you and the kick disoriented you when the steel toe boots connected to your skull. The Alpha watched Bucky race away with perked ears, the shiver rolling through him controlling his urge to follow him, but he turned away from his best friend back to you. Padding over, the Alpha was quick to check you over, his muzzle pressing against your side to make sure nothing was broken till he nudged at your shoulder, getting you to move. When you started towards the injured, he growled sharply, making you falter and lower a bit in submission, unsure of what he wanted. 

Coolly he pressed you the opposite way, towards the cabin you two were staying at for the time being. The Alpha didn't let up, keeping you heading away from the others and back to the safety of the cabin. 

Steve had never had to quell such scared anger in his life, far more than when you had gone off the road that winter. It was raging hot that he could have lost you to Bucky, so easily. After he told you to stay away from Bucky, in that state the White Wolf would have easily snapped your neck if he got a hold of you. Because that wasn't Bucky, their packmate, his brother. Something happened to him. 

You darted into the cabin and Steve was right behind you, the both of you racing up the stairs to the bedroom where you both shifted back almost on cue with one another. You grabbed at clothing, starting to tug them on. “We have to go back out there Steve, find them and the others.” 

Steve was doing the same, but he was quick to turn towards you, his eyes still glinting hints of burning yellow while he ground out. 

“You are staying here.” 

You straightened and lifted your chin a bit when you heard Steve's command. The Little Wolf lowered to the ground hearing her Alpha’s command, but you simply weren’t going to accept that without finding out why you couldn't go help your former packmates. “I’m sure as hell not staying here Steve.” You hiss a bit while heading for the door. Steve was quicker though, his hand circling around your upper arm and tightening enough to pull you to a stop and back into the room. “Let me go Steven!” You try pulling out of his hold, but his hold tightened until he backed you onto the bed. 

“I told you once Little One. Stay the fuck here.” His teeth snapped at his words and there was just anger in his features hiding his fear.. Fear that he could have lost you was clouding his mind with jagged memories of Pierce sticking you with that needle and he was that close to losing control and attacking Bucky then. Steve knew that if Bucky hurt you this time in any way, he wouldn't be able to control himself. No one would be safe. 

You protested though, going to push against him while your voice raised in your own anger at trying to be controlled, unable to help the others. “Steve you can't-” 

This time he roared out, the tendons in his neck rigid and his tone going deep and snarling at you in a way you had never seen before and you shrunk back suddenly from him. “As your Alpha I am, if you know what's good for you Y/N, stay in this cabin. That's an order.” 

You hissed at him in anger from between clenched teeth. “You are going to have to make me submit Steve.” 

If he had to, he would. Steve almost lost you once, so close… and that was all before you two even bonded. He was ready to lose himself back then and let the Alpha take over. It was an overwhelming sense of loss that sunk in his chest. Needing to push it away, he closed the gap between you two, pressing you back onto the bed in surprise while his lips claimed your own, searing them heatedly, and the shock made you growl against him, grasping his hair to hold on. 

Steve kept the pressure, ready to make you submit to him completely. Hands grasped at your thighs, still clothed but he didn't care at this second. Wrapping them around his waist as he kissed you senseless, he easily maneuvered you up the bed, growling harshly when you tightened your hold, pulling his hair at the roots when you grabbed onto his head.

It all happened so suddenly that you could only hang while he maneuvered you to where he wanted you, blinking up at him in shock for a second when he pulled away to pant above you. Locked gazes, you arched up to meet him again, pulling at his shirt to rip at it, his hands doing the exact same to you. Shreds of clothing got tossed away as you both withered against one another. You bit into Steve's shoulder when he rutted himself against you. “You will listen Y/N, You have no choice in this.” he snarled out against your neck. 

It was a heated spiral in your limbs, burning in your gut. Echoing in your mind was the Little Wolf snapping and yipping at the Alpha. You pushed against Steve to rub yourself into him, snarling against his ear. “Then do it!” It was animalistic the way he bit at your mark, making you gasp between pleasure and pain while dragging you closer till you felt him everywhere except where you needed him. Slick coated your thighs while his cock dragged against your thigh. “You want to make me listen so badly, here I am.” Another roll of your body and he pulled away to run his hands up your withering body, palms covering your breasts and marking the swells. 

Before you knew it, you were flipped to your belly, Steve snapping your hips up in the air, the curve in your back sharp as you clutched at the bedding to scream your frustrations into the mattress, you were furious at Steve for commanding you to stay, and the way your body betrayed you. You could break it, but you didn't want to defy him. You had spent a lifetime going against your instincts protecting yourself, now it was time to trust for once. Steve was different, it was because he loved you to keep you safe, not use you. 

He growled above you and you pressed back against him, feeling his hands wrap tightly around your hips and rock you back into position. “I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to you.” 

You clenched at his words, lifting your head enough to speak without being muffled in the bedding. “Fine Steve, I'm not going anywhere.” You felt yourself finally give into him, not because you couldn't break that bond, but you didn't want to. It ached too much to defy him when it meant so much to him even though it infuriated you to do so. 

His hand circled to dip between your thighs, teasing between your folds as he bit your shoulder, holding you still with his other hand while thrusting his cock into your weeping entrance and spreading you open in a sharp sting that made you cry out sharply. His thrusts were quick  and dominating, leaving you withering in his hold while fingers strummed your clit and his chest crushed against your back. Grunting growls and slapping skin filled the room, words becoming meaningless between you two. 

It was such a primal moment, one complete with trust as neither of you could do anything but seek connection and pleasure from one another. You felt the rush of your orgasm wash over you, crying Steves name with tears in your eyes. 

Steve wasn't ready to slow down, feeling you break apart under him just made him go faster, his hand covered in your arousal flushed up your body to fondle your breast, pulling at your nipple and squeezing while he pulled you both up to your knees. It just solidified for him that he needed you, just like this all for him. You arched before him, one hand reaching behind you to grasp the back of his neck, and the other covering his hand clasped over your chest. He still rutted into you, biting your shoulder enough to keep you still while he pounded himself into you. 

For You, you had never felt him so entangled in you, holding you to him so that not only did you feel him physically, but mentally. Everything he felt, feared, and needed was just an overflow of information in your bond, and it took such complete control that rational thought was impossible. All you could respond to was the way he dragged out your moans and cries, his grunts into your skin as he slapped against your backside, and punched the air from your lungs when your next orgasm turned the edges of your vision black. 

“Steve, I can't…” You begged and he groaned against your mark, his tongue sweeping over the sting of the bite he left, sure you were scented with him. 

“You can Little One, I have you.” He assured you as his hard thrusts turned into heavy drags through your sensitive walls that were clenching and trying to hang onto him while he so easily pushed through you to bury to the hilt. 

You pushed back into him when he ground into you, the two of you falling back so you were sprawled against his chest, his arm latching over your chest to keep you in place while his feet planted against the bed. Able to leverage himself into filling you so complete, your nails dug into his forearm stretched across you and tears streamed down your face. Your body felt wrung out, not able to give him that last one he wanted. 

There was no denying in this moment no matter what way Steve took you, he was in control of you, and you were just able to hold on. 

You felt his knot swell, stretching inside of you while he filled you with himself, warm against your aching channel, your body milked him, claiming every burst Steve gave with a growl of your own till it all stopped. Underneath you he calmed, his arm still heavy across your chest, but he was still except for heavy dragging breaths against your neck and your own pants as your head tipped back into his shoulder, staring upwards. 

“I promise, I won't leave.” 

“Good Girl.” He muttered, still hints of dominating presence in his tone, but it wasn't fear now, but acceptance. Steve managed to roll you onto the bed and his hands rubbed at your side to lull you into closing your eyes to relax in the aftermath. When he pulled out, you whimpered into the pillows, clenching your fingers into the fabric. 

“Just rest… I will be back soon.” He nipped at your neck, with that he moved off the bed to grab at his clothing and get dressed while you curled up on the mattress. Your body was tired and is fogging your mind trying to pull you into sleep. The last thing you felt was the scrape of his beard against your cheek as he kissed your temple and left you, his boots heavy thuds down the stairs and the slam of the front door left you alone in the bedroom, slipping finally into a fitful sleep. 

The Little Wolf whined loudly after a while, leaving it echoing through your body, distressed that the Alpha was going out on his own, leaving you locked here and had been angry at your defiance. It also effectively woke you back up after a quick nap. 

He will be okay. You assured her as you stretched back to a stand and went down the stairs to look out the window, watching for Steve to come back. He must be following Bucky’s trail. What happened to them? 

<Hydra… Didn’t you see the collar around Bucky's neck? He's being controlled. If he's being controlled Steve isn't safe going after him alone.> The Little Wolf paced back and forth, anxious with wanting to obey her Alphas command and going to help her Mate in his hunt. 

Your fingers curled around the front doors handle a moment, the internal battle making your throat close and eyes well up as you turn away from the door. You would respect your Mates order, as much as it left you scared to do so. 

Steve jogged in the forest following Bucky’s scent, quickly picking up the other members of his team as they all met back up at some point. There were also many other scents where other Wolves had passed through, probably in their bid to get away from his missing packmates. Steve pulled out his phone, dialing Natasha as he came stumbling out to a dirt road, and that's where the trail ended. Fresh tire wheels showing where a heavy vehicle sped off. 

The ringing of the phone was soon cut with Natasha's voice. “Steve? What’s wrong, why are you calling so late?” 

“Nat are you near Y/N’s old pack?” He questioned as he leaned down to look at the tire marks, looking for anything distinct to go on, but he was quick to straighten back up. They were long gone, with Caine he suspected. Just like the other attacks Steve had heard about. For some reason they were taking the packs Alphas. 

“Not too far off, why? Where are You and Y/N?” Natasha asked then and Steve confirmed where they were. “I will be right there.” 

“Just come right in, Bucky and everyone just hit this area, took off with Caine.” 

“Are you guys okay?” Her first concern being for you and Steve. 

“Were fine, Y/N is back at the cabin we were staying at and I followed Bucky’s trail to where it ended. They must be holed up somewhere nearby.” 

After hanging up, Steve took one last look around the area, and then headed back towards the compound. It would be a bit until Natasha showed up, and he knew he would have to talk to you now that his temper had calmed somewhat. 

<It was the best choice Steve, we don’t know what Bucky would have done to her if he got a hold of her.> 

That wasn't Bucky… or Clint, Wanda, Pietro… Steve thought, and the Alpha growled softly in agreement. They did something to them, controlling them. 

<The collars, they are stronger than the one Pierce used on Bucky before. You know what this is like… you have seen it before.>

Steve’s chest tightened, knowing exactly what the Alpha was talking about. Back in his days working with Howling Commandos they ran into a similar instance before. A group of renegade wolves making their way across Europe destroying not just other shifters, but humans as well in the most vicious way. They managed to disband most of them. 

The one that got away, he was the only one to break the control Hydra had on him. Steve recalled. 

<And you know where he returned to… maybe it's time we follow up on that lead and see if he is still alive.> 

It was something to consider Steve thought to himself as he made his way back to the cabin, easing the door open to the quiet of the cabin. The Alpha quieted in his mind as Steve let his senses open, feeling for you. He was quick to hear you shifting in the bed upstairs, rolling to your side and not actually getting any rest. An outward exhale of relief you were still safe escaped Steve as he started up the stairs. 

You heard Steve come into the house and pushed to sit up when he appeared in the doorway, his eyes roving you up and down, making you feel a bit small after the earlier altercation. Your legs curled up under you at the edge of the mattress, your hands folding into your lap as your head tipped, a typical submissive pose for either your mate of Alpha. “Oh Little One…” Steve started as he came into the bedroom, moving to kneel before you on the floor, his hands sliding along your folded knees and easing up along your bare thighs. “I only did it because I had to.” 

Your eyes lifted and a frown fluttered across your face. 

“Had to? Steve I’m your mate and partner, you can't just keep me safe all the time.” 

A soft growl rose up as he pressed his mouth to your knee, his eyes lifting with a tint of yellow in them, the Alpha so close to the surface while discussing your safety. “Can’t I? As your mate and Alpha, it's taking everything in me now not to bring you back home.” Your hands reached to cup his face, scraping slightly through his beard and spreading against his cheeks. A swipe of your thumb under his tired looking eyes. 

“You know I wouldn’t go Steve.” You wrinkled your nose at him slightly and he shifted to nip the top of your thighs, you moved to unfold your legs and let them drape off the edge of the bed, your foot rubbing against Steve's ribs gently. “I can’t just leave them.” 

“Still doesn’t change how I have the drive to keep you safe.” Another inhale against your thigh, light bite as Steve tasted you with a press of his tongue. “All I could think of is how I almost lost you with Pierce. Bucky is not Pierce, he's strong, more efficient, and dangerous because he’s being controlled.” 

Your knees pressed against his sides and your hold tightened on his jawline to lift him from your lap so he would look at you. “And what about you Alpha? What do you think it does to me when you rush off into danger and I can't be there with you?” You felt Steve's fingers dig slightly into your hips while your words sunk in, the yellow tinge backing away as his Alpha retreated and the crystal blue sharpened. You knew it would pain Steve to think that he had caused you any distress. The Little Wolf whined, her ears flattening while seeing all this being processed. 

Steve could feel the Alpha try to keep calm, respect the bond by waiting to be invited before going to his mate. Steve could imagine what you would feel being told to stay while he went into a dangerous situation. 

He knew what it did to him, the bile of fear raising up in his throat once more, it wasn't something he was familiar with. Fear didn't live in Steve’s body, not till he had you, then suddenly he really did have something to fear, losing you for good. That all was sunk down deep into him from the first time, maybe he had a problem he never knew he had. That worried him to be so irrational, he couldn't let it control him, because it would just end up pushing you away. 

Taking a dragging breath, he pushed up from where he was kneeling on the floor and sat next to you on the bed, you twisted to face him and crawl onto his lap till you were straddled, your arms around his neck, knowing that you had just ripped off a bandaid of sorts. “I’m sorry Little One, I put your safety first in my mind and nothing else. It will end up happening again.” 

Your forehead tipped to lean against his, sighing softly as your fingers trailed down the back of his neck and back up. 

“Steve, I'm not just your mate, I'm your partner. Where you go, I go to. You can't always keep me out of the way of what you deem dangerous.”

The silence stretched between you two, unable to give each other what the other wanted entirely here.

[jtavington]

Azure Crimson: Theodicy

Or your author is Catholic

“Good morning, Edelgard!” rang out a bright, cheerful voice.

Edelgard pried one eye open. She’d never been a morning person. Hubert had had to all but drag her out of bed and shove tea at her when duty forced her to rise early. The sole consolation of her present circumstances was that she didn’t have to be presentable at dawn. She uncurled herself, plotting murder or at least a good roar at whoever dared disturbed her.

Mercedes dared. “Do you need help getting up from the floor? You look uncomfortable.”

It wasn’t as if she fit in the bed. “I can handle myself.” Edelgard forced herself upright. Her joints groaned in protest. Pain had been a constant since her transformation, but she felt the weight of her carapace most keenly on waking. “I trust you have a reason for entering my room?”

“The professor asked you to join us at breakfast. Are you sure you don’t need help? You must be in terrible pain.”

“How would you know?” She hissed. As Emperor, she had a duty to offer at least icy politeness and had managed it even for Thales. To give into anger was to give the Hegemon purchase. “That is, no I don’t require help.”

Mercedes lips thinned. “There’s nothing wrong with needing help.” But she mercifully stepped back.

Edelgard pressed a bit of plaster that was slightly lighter than the rest and part of the wall rotated away to reveal the passage behind. “Incredible,” Mercedes breathed. “The emperor could truly go anywhere in the palace unseen. All to continue the concubinage system.”

Edelgard started. She had always dismissed Mercedes as a cloying Goddess-botherer completely oblivious to the suffering women like her mother endured or the reasons behind it. She hadn’t even been certain Mercedes knew what concubinage was. “Anything for more Crest-bearing heirs.”

“It’s terrible the way some women are seen as nothing more than baby producers.”

Edelgard froze. “Pardon me. What did you just say?”

Mercedes continued in the same overly sweet voice, as if she wasn’t speaking rank heresy. “Baron Bartels used and discarded my mother to get the Crest of Lamine. My adopted father tried to marry me off. Neither of them saw us as anything more than pawns.”

Edelgard turned. Mercedes looked the same as she always did, smiling as if she were sitting for a portrait of a saint. Perhaps she was an as yet unknown Agarthan replacement? But no, it was Mercedes herself who had killed Myson. “If you believe that,” Edelgard managed, “why fight for the Church?”

“Because people doing bad things in the name of the Goddess doesn’t mean She doesn’t watch over us. Bad people in the Church doesn’t mean the Church isn’t worth protecting.” She took a step closer. “Is that why you did what you did? Because you thought corruption meant none of it was true?”

“It was not mere corruption.” Rage filled her, but if was not the anger of the Hegemon but the cold fury that had sustained her after the dungeons. “The Church preaches one thing and does another and has since the Empire was founded. The Goddess they preach would have done something to those like Bartels. That She did not means that She is either a monster or a lie and either way not worthy of worship. The only way for humanity to progress is to be rid of such frauds.”

Silence. Mercedes didn’t take a step back, didn’t so much as frown. “I see. The Church hurt you somehow, didn’t we? I am terribly, terribly sorry.” She moved as if she would hug Edelgard.

Edelgard sidestepped her. The woman was entirely too perceptive and condescending in equal measure. “Better to say that it’s hurt thousands just like you.”

“It has,” Mercedes whispered. “So has the Kingdom. But your way wouldn’t have given us a chance to do better. Adrestia has hurt people as well. Should we wipe it out of existence?”

“It would be your right as victor.” Her voice felt faint. There was some sharp, clever retort to make but Edelgard didn’t have the energy to think of what it might be. “But there’s no way to change something so moribund. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve been summoned to breakfast.” She entered the tunnels.

Mercedes followed her. Did Faerghus transform everyone into savages? “It isn’t moribund. That’s why Byleth wants you at breakfast. Everyone who could have offered guidance died in the war. You’re the only one who has experience ruling anything larger than a single territory.” Her voice dropped to a whisper once more. “This is just my own thought but if you want a say in what Fodlan should be like, now is your chance.”

“Those who lose do not get to shape the world.” Edelgard shivered. She had failed, but it was true that Rhea and all the generation that had held the back change were dead and what happened now was depended on Dimitri, Byleth, and those they trusted to advise them. Dimitri was a lost cause. He had never met a tradition he didn’t wish to uphold. But perhaps Byleth, the chosen one who insisted she wasn’t chosen might be guided. If she was asking for help…

No, Edelgard was being an infatuated schoolgirl again. Byleth was the servant of Faerghus and a guardian of order. She must keep that vision of her fixed in her mind’s eye instead of the professor of her fantasies. “You are being surprisingly encouraging to the emperor who invaded your country.”

“You gave Emile a home. I’ll be forever grateful.”

[glassartpeasants]

I’m Sorry

Shigaraki x Reader

Warnings: Angst, like REALLY ANGST

A/N: I came up with this at work, i literally wrote down an entire plot to a story in about 30 minutes. I don’t know if i should feel proud or ashamed

~~~

You sat in your car sighing heavily as you put the seat down to look up at the stars, since you had opened your sunroof. Your arms going behind your head to create a make shift pillow as you waited for your boyfriends response.

Tomura Shigaraki, Leader of the League of villains was your boyfriend, and god did you love him. You loved him more then anything else in the world. But for some reason it felt like he was ignoring you. You look at the text your sent and just stared at it wondering if you said something wrong. You scanned over it again realizing he just hadn’t opened it yet.

You grab the necklace that was hanging around your neck and fiddle with it between your fingers. The metal reminding you of when he officially asked for you to be his.

The necklace was a symbol of devotion to one another. You always wore the necklace cause it made you feel butterflies every time you looked at it. Shigaraki always wore his too. It was so romantic,

Well it was romantic.

You had noticed recently that he stopped wearing it, or forgetting. You didn’t mind at first cause everyone’s forgetful sometimes but it did bother you when it became a regular thing. He’d always say he left it on his nightstand or took it off when he was going to bed. These were all rational explanations but he didn’t even bother to put it back on. It felt like you guys were drifting apart, which ripped a hole right through your heart.

Not to mention every time you went into the hideout, everyone gave you looks of pity. You don’t know why they did but you weren’t gonna question it. You refused to believe that Shigaraki would do anything to hurt you.

~~~

After your little session in the car you had gone grocery shopping for the League, something you would do often. They gave you a list of food they wanted and you got it for them.

You packed up all the groceries in your car and drove towards the building. You smiled all the way there. They didn’t know you were coming it was going to be a suprise! Oh won’t Shigaraki be happy!

You park outside the building and as you got out you see a lady coming out of the building you’ve never seen before. Normally you wouldn’t mind someone like that but...

She had Shigaraki’s hoodie on.

“Hey wait miss! Can i speak to you?” You said running up to her.

“Oh of course, what do you need?”

“Um i was wondering where you got the jacket from? I really like it.” You lie, you wanna know why this woman has your man’s jacket on, but you wanna hear what she has to say first before you go ape shit.

“Oh its my boyfriends! Isn’t it cool! That’s not the only thing he got me either, he gave me this necklace as well. He told me that as long as i have this on, it would show how much i love him. Isn’t that romantic!” Your heart shattered in your chest. You couldn’t believe it. No you wouldn’t, he said he only loved you. How long as this affair been going on? You needed more answers.

“That’s super awesome! How long have you guys been dating?” You smile holding back your tears and the burning urge to scream out of your chest.

“Almost 1 year!” She was so happy, could you tell her? Would she even believe you? She seemed even more happy then you been for the part 2 months, she seemed to be everything you weren’t.

Long hair, curvy, not an inch of skin imperfections, and lets not forget how much bigger her chest was compared to yours. She was everything a man could ever want. Hell she was there for most of your relationship, you guys have been dating for a year and 4 months.

“IM so happy for you! I have to go but i hope to see you later!” You lie through your teeth, you never wanted to see her again.

She drove off while you open the doors to the building looking down as tears streamed your face, your lungs burning with the need to scream and sob.

You open the door to the main room where Shigaraki sat with, Dabi, Spinner. Toga, and Twice. Your arms shaking as you could feel everyone staring at you.

“(Y/N) what brings you here?” Spinner asked before you pushed past him, you grabbed the necklace from off your neck, pulling it off letting bits and pieces of the chain to fall onto the floor. You throw the necklace at Shigaraki before slapping him across the face.

“How fucking dare you! Your such an inconsiderate piece of shit! You thought i wouldn’t find out?! Was she good huh?! Was she worth it?!” Your screams could e heard through the entire building, everyone’s eyes on you as you screamed at their leader. Shigaraki’s eyes were wide, you could see it behind father.

“I-”

“Don’t say a thing! I should have never agreed to be your girlfriend! Was it because she had a better body then me?! Did she satisfy your fucking needs?!” Your rage was outstanding as more tears streamed down your face, the pain of knowing your supposed love of your life was going around with other women. Shigaraki said nothing as he took the screams, his eyes soon looked uninterested and bored, which only fueled your fire.

“You know what fuck you, i wish i never met you. Enjoy that bitch cause im done!” You only cry more as you ran out of the room and out of the building, getting into your car and driving off.

Shigaraki didn’t move an inch as trying to keep his composure. But on the inside he was shaking. He was going to break it off he promised! He was going to the next time he saw her, why couldn’t you have come a little later? Why did you just show up damn you!

Your words cut like knives into Shigaraki’s skin, as the image of you crying kept replaying in his head.

“Nice job Handman.” Shigaraki turned his head towards the burnt male.

“IT’s not your place to talk so shut the hell up.”

“It’s not your place to talk either, must suck knowing the girl that would have taken a bullet for you left you. But can’t say i didn’t see this coming.” Shigaraki stayed silent. He didn’t want to say anything he just wanted to figure out a way to make you come back.

~~~

1 month later

Ice cream.

As stereotypical as that sounds, ice cream had become your best friend for the past few weeks. You just ate your heart away, not mentioning that you threw up everything you ate.

After your fight with Shigaraki you blocked him on everything. His number? Blocked. His gamer profile? Blocked. Everything was blocked.

You had even moved to another part of town, he knew where you lived so you just deiced to up and leave, your lease was over soon anyways. You thankfully found another apartment. It was small but it was perfect for you.

You’ve watched the news a few times looking for any sign of Shigaraki and his plans. But nothing occurred.

“Aw shit-” You ran to the bathroom as fast as you could about to throw up everything you ate that day.

~~~

“Well fuck.” You look down at the home pregnancy test. A positive home pregnancy test.

“What do i do now?” You sat down on the bathroom floor looking up at the ceiling. You liked kids so having on shouldn’t be a problem right? 

But the fact that it was your cheating ex’s is the problem...

“No! I will not think about that crusty rat anymore! I don’t need him to be happy i have everything i need right here!” You say to yourself as you get up off the bathroom floor.

“I will take care of this baby and I’ll be the best mother that their could possibly be!” You hype yourself up as smile to yourself. He may be Shigaraki’s child ut that doesn’t mean you can’t love your kid. You would love the kid to the ends of the earth, and no cheating ex will stop that.

~~~

Shigaraki laid down on his bed staring at the ceiling, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He couldn’t help it, he’d actually lost you.

He tried contacting in in every form possible, once he realize you blocked his number. Once he called from a payphone only to find out you changed your number as well.

He broke off ties with the other girl, hoping it would bring you back. Which it didn’t. 

Now he was alone again, the feeling of emptiness crept back up from the depths of his mind as his bed was cold. Your body no longer there to warm it. It ate him alive, the realization that he would never feel your fingertips brush through his hair again or the comforting words you said that put him to sleep.

His thoughts were his own worse enemy, he hated how much that fateful day replayed in his head. Over and over again until it corrupted his everyday life.

His bitterness was soon taking over. The madness that was Tomura Shigaraki slowly crept into his thoughts. Corrupting them, warping his mind making it seem like you were in the wrong not him.

He couldn’t bare to handle the insufferable guilt that he felt so he occupied himself with work. Running the LOV to escape the fractured pieces of his mind.

Within 3 months you were no longer plaguing his mind.

~~~

We skipping to when reader give birth

As you laid down in the hospital bed with your newborn child in your hand you couldn’t help but tear up. 

You were 100% sure that your little girl was going to look like her dad, hell she even had the same eyes and mole. 

But you couldn’t dwell on the fact she didn’t have a single feature of yours yet all you could think about was the amazing smile she gave you as soon as she saw you.

“Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing.” You cooed at the baby as she giggled at you. She reached her little chubby baby hands at you and grabbed your nose. You chuckled before giving her a kiss on the cheek as you sung her a little lullaby in your arms.

~~~

2 Years later

You watch the TV as the war keeps going on. Fighting and war is all people seem to do nowadays. You were afraid, your not even scared to admit it. After hearing about Shigaraki and learning that He’s now the leader of a huge army made you very scared for your daughter. HE may not know she exists but it still scares you.

You sigh at the Tv before getting up and putting on your jacket getting ready to pick up your daughter from your parents house.

You step out of your door and lock it before going down to your car. Putting your purse in the passenger seat as you buckled up and started the car before pulling out on the road.

Little did you know someone was watching...

~~~

“Pwease! pwetty pwease!” Your daughter whined trying to convince you to let her play on the swings near your parents house. You looked at your daughter as she gave you the puppy eyes.

“Fine, your lucky i love you so much.” You daughter squealed as she ran to the swing and waited for your help.

You laugh as you put your daughter in the baby swing and push her a little bit. Her baby blue hair moving along with the motions. You were right when she got her appearance from Shigaraki but she had your facial features.

‘At least she got something from me’ You chuckled to yourself before you hear your daughters giggles grow quiet.

“Sweetie what’s wrong?” Concern wired in your voice. She kept on looking on the other side of the street, so you look too.

Once your eyes were scanning for a bit they blew wide open as a patch of similar blue hair caught your vision.

No it couldn’t be....you moved how did Shigaraki... how did he find you?

You pick up your daughter before quickly walking towards your car. You car was in eye sight before a gruff voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Is she mine....”You back stiffened as you felt his eyes burning into you. There was no escaping him at this moment.

“Mommy who’s that?” Your daughter asked, her little body trembling as she looked at the hooded man in fear.

“Shigaraki, take your hood off your scaring her.” Your voice stern, laced with poison as all the emotions waved over you once more.

“You know i can’t do that. Answer my question, is she mine.” His voice laced in the same poison you once spoke in.

“No shit sherlock.” You look at him as you hear him let out a huff of air.

“Can...can i see her...” His voice was weak as you saw his hand twitch. HE refused to look at you the entire time.

“You think I’d let you see her?! Shigaraki look at yourself! Your an S-Class villain! If people saw you with her they’d go after her! Im not letting you see her.”

“I know im a villain but she’s my kid too damnit!”

“You didn’t even know she existed! Why now huh?! Why after almost 3 years do you decide to show up now huh?!” Your voice shooting daggers into Shigaraki’s heart once more.

He happened to stumble by you guys on accident, he was walking home from getting a new game when he heard your voice. It may have been years but he could always remember your lullaby you use to sing him to sleep. He walked over to your location and dropped the game on to the cold concrete as he saw you holding a little girl in your arms.

His crimson eyes widen as he stared at the exact copy of himself. There was no way, how could you not have told him?

“Let me guess you accidentally saw us and now you want to be with me again?!” You screamed at him but immediately stopped when you heard sniffling coming from the little girl in your arms.

“Hey, Hey its okay Sayori, mommy’s just a little angry that’s all, im sorry for screaming.” You say as your run your fingers through her hair.

“Please...just...can i not even look at her.....” You could hear it, the pain in his voice. The tiniest part inside you begging you to give him another chance but the realization of having to protect your daughter over through your love for him.

“No. Shouldn’t have cheated. Not going to let my baby be in harms way because her father can’t seem to keep his dick in his pants.” You turn around and walk away leaving Shigaraki at the playground as you drove off.

Shigaraki felt his soul leave his body as his knees gave out. He started to sob uncontrollably. The once dormant flashbacks of your heartbroken face now replayed in his mind once again. 

Hiccuping as his sobs became much more inaudible. He felt like shit, the thought of his turning up like his father blew his mind as it only added to the pain. Images of what could have been a happy family replay in his head as he could just imagine a world where he has you by his side and his daughter in his arms.

[yandere-wishes]

Disney villains as Yanderes

These are yandere headcanons for Genderbent! Cruella de Ville, Genderbent! Ursula, Genderbent! Maleficent, Shan Yu, Hades, Humann!Scar and Human! Shere Khan. Also, try to imagine them the way they look in fanart rather than the Disney movies I find that helps a lot

===========================================================

Cruella de Ville

Cruella is just the most sadistic yandere you'll ever meet, his treatment of his darling is only slightly better than his treatment of those poor pups. He keeps her chained up in his room, forcing her to wear the most decorative monochrome collar with the heaviest iron leash, limiting the poor darling's movement. 

But his tournament is just beginning. For some sick, demented reason Cruella just loves to humiliate his "little puppy". He'll make you eat and drink from a bowl on the ground, make you sit at his feet begging to his attention if you want something. It's disgracing, soul-crushing even, but for him it's power! It shows that he controls all aspects of your meaningless life. It's the ultimate proof that YOU BELONG TO HIM. 

"Little puppy what is it that you want?..."

There are days -few and scattered- where the wicked man can be almost called nice. He won't start treating you like a human being but more like the favorite pet instead of some runt. On these sacred days, he'll have you sit on his lap as he sketches out a new design, sometimes even drawing a cute dress or skirt for you to wear. On days where he's feeling generous, days where you've proved that you are indeed his sweet little pet. Cruella will take you to the outside world, a place your memory can just barely recall. The two of you will spend the day shopping through the luxury boutiques. The black and white-haired man will make you try on everything that catches his eye, he may be cruel but he's not unreasonable he always wants his cute puppy to look their best. 

"...You better be ready to beg for it."

Ursula 

Ursula is so so manipulative to the point where talking to him becomes an exhausting task. He's so good with words, twisted every single word until it better serves him. At the end of any conversation, you're left bewildered, trying to retrace your words to find just how you got here. 

The sea witch had no need to kidnap his beloved darling all he had to do was speak. Through radiating words, he promises you all that your heart desires. He promises a straight forward easy contract but instead, you're given nothing but misery, locked away forever in his somber cave. 

"You poor unfortunate soul tell me...."

Even if you do try and escape, Urusal will just send his lackeys to retrieve you, they are even given the pleasure of "toying" with you a bit. Leaving little nibble marks along your arms, drawing a bit of blood along the way but never anything too devastating no that pleasure is left for Urusal and Urusal alone.

The Cecelia's punishments are harsh, they aren't exactly painful...it's more the gut wrenching feeling of guilt and fear that Urusal is able to install in you that makes them particularly fearsome. No matter what you are being punished for, the end is always the same. Somehow cruel heartless Urusal is always the innocent victims while you are the ungrateful, conniving leech that is never satisfied. Poor Urusal just gives and gives wishing only a loving companion in return but what do you do? You run away! Throw a tantrum breaking some of his rare potions just because he was looking out for your safety and wouldn't let you go out. He should chop off your tail! Leave you on land to shrivel up and die!... Oh but he just can't bear losing his little lover! Maybe just for once, he'll just lock you up in a cage made from megalodon teeth, a tiny punishment for your huge crime!

"...Tell me what it is your heart desires?"

Maleficent 

The dark fae is a rather caring protective, who is very lucid about the predicament of his relationship with his darling. He knows that they don't love him, he knows that he stole them away from their old life, he knows. But he's just so good at justifying his actions! He took you from the company of those humans because they are all corrupt! They hurt all that is pure in this world! It's just better if he keeps you locked up in his castle far away from those monsters!

Now unlike the majority of the Disney Villian, Maleficent isn't cruel or sadistic. The only reason he kidnapped his darling is to keep them safe! Why would he do anything that could jeopardize their happiness and safety! No, no Maleficent would never find amusement in your pain, never lay a hand on you cause you latched out. If ever the need arises where he had to punish you, then he'll lock you up in the dungeons. A couple of days alone in darkness will have you behaving like the sweet innocent lover that he wants!

"I love you (y/n)..." 

At some point, after a great deal of time has passed from your kidnapping, Maleficent will grant you the freedom to roam around the castle. There is still the lingering rule for his darling to never step foot outside even when Maleficent is with them. But that -along with most things- is just a countermeasure to keep them safe! 

".....No power on earth can change that!"

All in all, Maleficent is one of the better yandere to have, he's caring to the point where he seals every door and windows so nothing dangerous can get in, he's overprotective to the point of following you around everywhere, he's loving to the point where he's willing to submerge you in endless darkness just so you see his perspective! Yes! All so very loving! And very soon you will see it that way too.

Hades 

The god of the underworld is a very bizarre mix, he's possessive, so very possessive that he probably killed you himself! Just so you could never leave him! But at the same time, he's very delusional, seeing your murder as less of a crime and more of a romantic gesture akin to marriage. 

Hades' love for his darling is so sick and twisted that some may not even call it love! It's just pure mania! One minute the fiery god is cooing at you, complimenting how gorgeous you look in the black toga he got you. The next he's screaming, hair burning a staking red as he yells about how quiet and cold you're being! How you don't love him as much as he loves! Truth is Hades' doesn't want your love exactly, better yet he doesn't know what love is. He just wants you to be as obsessed with him as he is with you! 

"Look (y/n) this whole relationship this is easy!...." 

Hades' punishments are also very fierce. The lord of the dead gets offended quickly! The slightest offense can drive him into a mad rage!

 He'll do practically anything to teach his darling a lesson, from burning them to disembodying them and then stitching them back together. The idea of inflicting pain is just so enjoyable to him! The thought that he has full control over how you feel! Oh, how he loves "playing" with you controlling your every move.

Eventually, Hades' darling will get so used to his temperamental moods and sadistic behavior that they just end up not caring. He's going to burn your right arm until it's limb? Okay, cool is that before or after your date to Skopelos? Oh, he's threatening to feed you to Cerberus? That's fine just don't forget I want Tomatokeftedes for dinner. Not much really fazes you at this point.

"You just got to make me the center of your world and ba-bing ba-boom we're an official couple!" 

Scar

it's always blood and guts with him 

always screams of agony and frustration 

always his word above all else 

always him

Scar is one of the worst yanderes, cause he can make pain feel like nostalgic, welcoming even. With only a few sugar-laced words he can turn your own mind against you. He's cruel and calculating never permitting you to do the smallest thing for yourself. If you want something you have bat your eyes and beg real nicely so he'll consider ordering someone to do it for you. It's such a rare, practically precious accurate if Scar ever decides to do anything even remotely nice for you. If ever he fetches you your or dress you or even toss you a gift. You will have to treasure those moments. 

" Be prepared (y/n)..."

Everything is a quid pro quo with him, the black-haired man never does anything out of the kindness of his heart. He makes you thank him for the simplest of things like letting you eat, or giving you a bed to sleep in. 

Despite how horribly Scar treats his darling he still expects them to love him unconditionally. He wants to be the only thing his darling thinks. In a rather twisted way, he really does try to prove that he loves you, even if it's though scratch marks that are just a little too deep to be considered "scratched" or love bites that draw too much blood. He does love you, you know he does!...or maybe it's all just a mind game. 

"....For I shall always remain your king!"

Shan Yu 

Shan Yu borders somewhere between protective and obsessive. he knows his darling can protect herself, they're strong, capable, but the truth of the matter is he doesn't want them to! He wants you to depend on him, to make him feel wanted. It's very likely that his darling is a soldier in his army (from what I've heard women from the Hun tribes could join the army) which permits him to start a "casual affair with them. It's nothing at first, a passe time between fleeting moments of peace. But it turns dark quickly when he notices them "flirting" with some other soldiers, touching them, smiling at them, things she should only be doing with him!

He doesn't so much kidnap his darling as "claim" them either through a straightforward declaration to his tropes or through "love marks" that he leaves over their body. It's a sudden kind of thing, one moment is preparing for battle-ready to strike down anyone that stands in their way the next they are being dragged to Shan Yu's tent and being told they aren't permitted to fight anymore!

"I tire of your arrogance, (y/n)..."

Shan Yu isn't exactly cruel per se...he's just a tad bit aggressive. He takes every tiny disobedience as a sign of rebellion! And he's more than willing to strangle the resistance out of you. He hates to punish you, hates to see you in any form of pain but how else is he going to get you to be his trusty loving darling?!

At some point, he'll let his darling on the battlefield, only for battles he knows for certain that his team will win. Shan Yu adores the way his darling gracefully swings their blade at anything in sight! Cutting enemies with practiced elegance and wearing their blood like a dress made from the finest silk.

"....You belong to me why can't you just accept that?"

Shere Khan

(Fun fact his name translates to "Lion King" in Persian. Shere being the direct translation of lion and Khan being a prefix (such as majesty) to a king or ruler. )  

Shere Khan is a complex yandere and can't really be nailed to a specific "type" he's protective of his darling, willing to kill anyone that so much as looks at them wrong. On the other hand, he himself adores tormenting his darling. Sometimes it's just flirting, making them flustered, other times it's raking his claw-like nails over every inch of their body until they're a bloody mess. Then there's just how obsessed he is with his darling, how they infiltrate his mind every second of every day. Even when the poor man is asleep all they can think of his lover.  

The important thing to remember about Shere Khan is that he doesn't mean any malice, he doesn't do what he does out of spite or hatred but rather for both love and "fun", he's a bit like a puppy that doesn't understand that biting his harmful and instead sees it as a game. "hurting" his lover is just claiming them, heck Khan will be thrilled if his darling left their own marks on his body.  

"No matter how fast you run..."  

Khan is a rather cold lover, never really showing you much of his emotions, he's secretive, quiet. But he makes up for that with the gift that he buys his darling. Khan insists that his darling always dresses in the most lavish, flowing dresses. They must always look their best, after all, he deserves only the best.  

There are times when he'll be nicer towards his darling taking them out for walks or maybe even cuddling with them. He does love the feeling of warmth that his darling radiates. His favorite thing to do his lay down in the sun with his arms wrapped tightly around his lover and just drift off to sleep.  

"..I Will always find you!"

[stopeatingwhales]

“i’ll always love you,” x damon albarn

this one’s for my beloved friend emily, who requested i write something inspired by the song clocks by coldplay for her, and must i say this turned out better than i had anticipated it to. enjoy <3

Paring: 90s damon albarn x reader

Warnings: angst, dysfunctional relationship

Word count: 1.811

Happy late birthday emily x

༉‧₊˚✧

Having to endure his enthralling features pick-up multiple women at a bar accompanied by my watching, plastering a pretend look of inattention, attempting to hypnotise my ears with Graham’s words directed at me was the equivalent of absolute torture. It devastated me. Seeing the woman’s eyes glow up, instantly subdued to Damon; his beauty right away changing the plans for the evening. A chat? Maybe. A shag? Definitely. A boyfriend? No way. He would use the poor woman as a ploy to get back at me, perhaps from an argument that had resurfaced from the previous night - which created much bigger issues the following day. He did it countless amounts of times as revenge, and each time - no matter how many times it had been done - it always felt like he was slipping a knife slowly into my heart, twisting it around as leisurely as possible, creating the most excruciatingly horrific pain. Pain that wouldn’t leave, even after he had finished with her, as he stumbled into the cramped tour bus, avoiding my eyes completely. He was butchering me, in all ways notorious to man. 

Patiently waiting, I was expecting for the usual: some sort of scoff, maybe a roll of the eyes - dearly conducted straight at me. There was nothing. The only attack I had received in the majority of ten seconds was the gust of wind blow straight past my face from his grand entrance - exhilarating goosebumps on my cheeks. I pondered over the situation, battling the idea of whether I should hoot at him or not, his body language unattentive to my view. It was almost as if he was avoiding me, avoiding the scene, as if he was contemplating outside whether it would be a good decision to walk in at such a dingy time. He seemingly tried to rush past me as fast as he could, although there was no chance I’d be letting him get to sleep this early. 

“Damon,” I said, sternly, rising from my sleeping position on the couch. His slow movements came to a halt, my ears perking up at the sound of a hefty sigh roll off his tongue. Funnily enough, he knew this was coming. He knew the repetitive argument that was going to play, almost word for word at this point. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

The rest of the boys were preciously bunked up in their beds, and unfortunately my angry consciousness had little to no care whether they had any sleep or not; I had not been able to get a clean, crisp night’s sleep since the beginning of the tour. Since the beginning of this all. 

Scoffing, Damon’s stilled stance had now twisted round, his daggering stare locking with my hopeless, tearful one. “Sorry?” he muttered? Cocking his head to the side, waiting for another chain of rows to dance out of my mouth. What a dickhead. 

Closing my eyes, I inhaled sharply. I swallowed the pool of saliva forming on my tongue out of nervousness, the tremble of my hands sending my mind into a pit of anger as I cupped them both into fists, each hand hidden by my sides. “You’re such a dickhead,” I mumbled, shaking my head to the ground in utter disbelief, knowing full-well this wasn’t going to end well; it never did.

I averted to laying back down on the couch from my former standing position, deciding that there was absolutely no reason that I should be giving my all into repetitive arguments, all it ever did was dig a much larger pit of agony than I had before. “Of course you’d say that,” I heard Damon chuckle, aggravation grumbling throughout his voice. He stood still, waiting for my response. If I’m being honest, I wanted him to stay there. Regardless of the life he was sucking out of me, I seemingly needed his presence there. All the time. 

For a short moment, the anger that had riled up in my veins was mellowed, but that softness was interrupted by another evil laugh fleeing his lips. Suddenly, everything that had happened in the past evening came right back at me, leaving nothing but pure rage. “Why do you think that sleeping with other women is going to help?” I questioned, turning my head to once again connect our eyes. He was clearly taken aback at my abrupt and explicit asking, due to his eyes widening slightly at my raw phrasing. I wasn’t going easy tonight. 

“You seem to think that making me feel like dirt on your feet mends our arguments. Why?” I asked again, carrying the same, firm tone I was initiating previously. I wanted him to realise what he had been doing, in the cruelest way achievable. He’s harmed me enough. “Does it seem to please you?”

My gaze never left his face. I studied his features, noticing each twitch, shift, and emotion embellishing his appearance. His face was a blanket of snow, almost exactly like the face of the moon. His head was hanging low, the tips of his fringe guiding his hair to freefall from the gravity. His darkened, gold locks effortlessly matched the dynamic of the room, the colour of the lamp blending in with his figure. The air felt painfully still; my words not just affecting him, but me as well. A sudden rush of wonder coursed through my mind, what if one of the boys were listening? They knew about how dysfunctional mine and Damon’s relationship had become over the past couple months, but they never mentioned a word of it, fully aware that it would be yet another reasoning for an argument.

Eventually, his silence began to taunt me. It felt as if he didn’t want to say anything, but all I wanted was for him to just own up to his actions - something he had never come across doing in his lifetime. “Why do I let you do this to me…” I croaked, my eyes beginning to well up with tears. 

Finally, I shifted my stare to my lap, letting my silent tears flee from my eyes, dripping onto my trousers. I didn’t feel like changing, the sickness that had pitted in my stomach from the thought of Damon with someone else becoming like a sickness for me. All of a sudden, I began gaining flashbacks over the past few weeks, remembering the one conversation that started this all. Let’s have an open relationship. Why? It’ll give us more freedom.

I felt all the emotions pent up, engraved inside my mind all rush back to me, my steady breathing now becoming extremely rapid, water now soaking my cheeks as I sobbed as quiet as possible. I squeezed my mouth shut, my constant sniffles being enough to wake the entire bus of sleeping people. Damon rarely saw me cry, not because I didn’t want him to, I felt incapable of doing it in front of people. The perpetual worry of judgement clouded above my mind subconsciously. My crying now was not only a sign for me that I was impotent of carrying on what we had created between ourselves, but for him, to realise that this was unhealthy. What had we become?

“Y/N…” Damon managed to squeak out, the soft sounds of his feet progressively getting louder as he made his way over to where I was, crouching down to eye level with me. “Love, please don’t cry,” he whispered, caressing my hair lightly. 

Subconsciously, I felt my head lean against his hand, the comfort pulsating warmth through my body. He took note of this immediately, standing up slightly to lay down next to me on the couch, disregarding the little to no room for both of us. Our bodies were touching everywhere imaginable, my heart aching as I felt his arm around my shoulder, tightening our embrace. I shut my eyes, beginning to cry into his shoulder. My sobs quickly escalated to wails, Damon’s caressing putting my mind into a complete state of confusion. “Shhh,” he cooed, peppering kisses all over my forehead. See? This is exactly what he does, every time. 

My cries slowly began to die down after a while of his consolations. However, although my body was completely drained inside and out, I couldn’t rest. I knew he could tell, due to my breathing. “Why do you let me hurt you like this,” he mumbled, his voice cracking at the end of his sentence. He never realised how much pain he was causing to not only me, but to himself. We were torturing each other, the toxicity of the relationship way past the point of mending. Our love was a poison and a medicine; he could dismantle my limbs in such a loathsome manner, yet almost immediately be able to perfectly stitch me back to my previous figure, slobbering sorrowful kisses all over my body, realising he had done no good. 

We were one of those oblivious couples, thinking, assuming that nothing would happen to us. Nothing would tear us apart, nothing at all. But the fear? The fear of love tearing you apart? No, that doesn’t exist. What the fuck is that? The usual reaction. How can the person who brought me the utmost joy, the brightest smile, the love of ten thousand adorning stars and more, be the same man who murdered my belief of love, be the one person who causes me the most torment, rips me, corrupts me, pacifies me in places I didn’t know were a part of my body? And yet, all I find myself doing is lingering back to him. 

“I love you Damon, and I really don’t fucking know why I do,” I mumbled into his ear, breathing in helplessly before carrying on. “But I can’t do this anymore,”

My breath hitched in my throat as those words left my mouth, my mind bewildered that I had said such a thing. I felt Damon tense up, the gulp in his throat more prominent than usual. This conversation was avoided many, many times by the both of us, but there was no use in hiding it anymore. “I can’t live without you,” he mumbled into my hair, inhaling the pungent scent, knowing this would most likely be the last time he’d be able to. 

I knew what my words were doing to him. They were daggers, anguishing sharp stabs in his stomach, exactly like the same stabs he’d given me, simply a hundred times worse. “You’re dying with me here,” I replied, biting my lip in pure melancholy. “Go live your life, you’ll find the love of it eventually,” I breathed, my voice barely inaudible as I released myself from Damon’s grasp, standing up. He was as quiet as he had ever been, trying to take in my words one by one. 

“Just remember I’ll always love you,”

[spinnenpfote6]

Idk if I’m taking it the wrong way but it bugs me how in the Prequels, Anakin’s love for his mother Shmi and his wife Padme are framed as his weakness and that his emotions are what drove him to the Dark Side when it was all just natural. They took little Anakin away from his mom and then shamed him for missing her and told him to “man up”, when he was concerned for her the Jedi told him to stop caring but he didn’t and he was right: his mom had been in danger. But his tears when she died are not him being sad that she died, but that he is “falling to the Dark Side”. As if grieving wasn’t appropriate and instead a sign of evilness.

And when pregnant Padme was dying in his dreams, Anakin wasn’t taken seriously by Yoda and told to just stop caring because “death is natural”. And what did we get? Padme did die in the end. There is a reason that he was trying to keep his love to her a secret and eventually turned to Palpatine: Because no one listened to him when he was expressing concern and emotions for his family members. Palpatine seemed to be the only one to care about his feelings and the only one to give him actual advice, but Anakin his still framed as the bad guy for listening to his feelings, especially his feelings towards women, as they are essentially “corrupting his pure mind and true self”. And I don’t care that this was some kind of shitty, self-fulfilling prophecy.

Luke is told similar stuff in the Originals: that he should shut off his emotions because they are “leading him to the Dark Side” or that he should “stop loving Leia” because the other (bad) men could see this as a weakness. Yet Yoda and the other Jedi are still framed as wise and right, while Anakin and Luke are supposed to come off as bratty and impulsive. Not to mention that fear alone doesn’t lead to hatred because experiencing fear is very much needed in a human’s life to prevent them from dangers. Especially fearing for your loved ones is not, as the Jedi put it, something bad that will turn you evil.

But still, it is shown that Luke being concerned and having intense emotions is what makes him fail his training and therefore something he should stop, to be “better”. But in the end, Luke successfully brings Vader back to the Light because he was thinking of him as a father in an emotional way and this is how he managed to reach out to that last spark of Anakin that was left in Vader.

Both Anakin and Luke are actually at their best when they are trying to save their friends and family, they are determined and compassionate, not evil, because they are right.

In the Sequels though, Ben Solo aka Kylo Ren is actually framed as good for staying to his true self and emotions in the end and his love for his parents and Rey is not something that corrupts him, but what brings him back to the Light in the end. (In addition, I wanted to mention that I firmly believe that Kylo Ren is a character who is coded as mentally ill). The good relationships with women in his life is what fuels his good side, not the other way around, like in the Prequels. Same with Luke at the end TLJ on Crait, where he is fueled by giving his sister hope.

 Especially in TFA, Kylo is constantly seen trying to put on an emotionless face and to deny his true feelings (”[Han] means nothing to me.”), which result in fits of rage because it is actually damaging him to mask his true self. We have seen Kylo/Ben at the end of TROS: the tantrum-throwing bad guy isn’t who he really is. He isn’t taken seriously by someone either, until Rey comes by and offers him support, what gives him hope and a reason to change. And regarding Kylo being a “crybaby who should man-up” - this is a dangerous thing to say as well. Kylo isn’t actually crying in the moments when he’s evil, but in the moments where he is allowing himself to feel his real emotions.

Take a look at the confrontation between him and Han in TFA for example: When Han approaches Kylo on the bridge, he is trying to talk him out of thinking that the “mighty Kylo Ren” whom Snoke apparantly values and teaches so well, is an illusion and that he didn’t destroy his son. Kylo still tries to be in his role until his true self breaks out: he starts crying and admits his true feelings (”I’m being torn apart. I want to be free of this pain!”). And we see that he actually is torn apart and thinking of going back to the Light side. But when he decides not to and commit the horrible act of killing his father instead, he stops crying and puts on an emotionless face,shutting off his true feelings once again, right in the moment where his father forgivingly strokes his cheek one last time.

And what happens? Kylo trying to cut off the bond with his father and telling himself to not feel a thing about the murder only results in backfiring, causing even more pain and confusion for Kylo and throwing him into an even bigger identity crisis. And he realizes that he cannot kill his mother and feels ashamed for what he has done to her life in TROS, believing that she will hate him, even if he comes back. He knew how bad his crimes were in the end.

But when he is vulnerable to Rey, actually crying out of compassion for her, he has a goal in life again: killing Snoke and starting a new order with Rey by his side. Not quite what is needed, but it is the next step in being himself again and valuing his actual wants again. No matter how much I hated how they trated the character in TROS, I will always cherish those 3 minutes of Ben Solo we got at the end. And in this movie we also see that Kylo isn’t even able to “ fully go back” to his fake identity from TFA. He obviously tries to, but fails. Rey knows this, calling it out to him how she can “see through the cracks of his mask”. The fact that the Knights Of Ren put his mask back together could imply that Kylo is again forced by others to literally and metaphorically “mask himself”.

At the end, Kylo/Ben was cherished for his true emotions and giving in to them, to his love and concern and having compassion and not to suppress his feelings because he was told that this was right. He wasn’t weak for crying, he was weak for thinking he shouldn’t.

Because this is actually a beautiful message that boys should keep in mind.

Telling boys and young men to be emotionless, to be careful with bonding with other people and staying to their true emotions on the other hand, is not a good message.

Also, for more information on this topic, watch “The Case Against The Jedi Order” by Pop Culture Detective on YouTube.

Thanks for coming to my pep talk

[sapphic-scylla]

@the-one-and-only-blake-llewell @dimitrescuslustwine I hope you enjoy Petra’s encounter with the rogue’s gallery that is Alcina’s Castle. It’s not a great story and not perfectly well written but regardless I hope you like it.

Ch. 1: Heresy

A smell of iron and wine mixed with the spruce trees nearby. Such a odd welcome to the plane she had just appeared in. It was so different from Rexentrum too. Nature seemed at peace with the world instead of deception lurking around every corner. Even these poor hopeless souls were honest about their intentions rather than manipulating people to their will. Not that it helped them in the end but it was refreshing.

Petra sheathed her sword, pulled out some incense, and lit it with a sacred flame. Just outside the village where she’d stopped in for a drink after planeshifting here to find a new home, three men tried too hard to take advantage of her only to fall into a trap of her own make. With extreme prejudice as they tried to feel her up as she tried to walk away, she severed limb and head from body without a care, leaving them in a heap of flesh. No tolerance, no mercy.

A very large castle-like manor loomed in the distance. At least a half an hour walk from here, but she felt like she was being watched. Not by an unfriendly being, but like she was being evaluated. Ignoring it, she wanted for the spell to finish.

Without a beat missed, she heard a voice behind her. “Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance now, don’t you?”

“They attacked me first, you saw it. I don’t claim to understand the mind of men like this or why they thought it was a good idea to try and take advantage of me as such, but here we are.”

Petra’s 5’6” frame slightly shuddered from the cold. She was wearing her usual outfit. Cloth wrap around the bust with her trench duster and black pants now covered in blood, not that she of all people minded blood. She picked up a nearby wine bottle dropped by one of her attackers. It still had a little bit left.

“Such a shameful waste of good wine.” Petra said, drinking the last, enough for one mouthful.

The figure behind her started to inspect the carnage. She looked like a tall drifter who passes through town without making a fuss.

“So you had questions, my dear?” Nytoria, Petra’s patron asked.

“It’s nice to talk to you. Considering you’re my only friend. But yes, I have a few questions.” Petra responded.

“Well, my dearest champion, considering you’re my only follower and you’re faithful to the last, I can’t help but protect you, but you really should find some friends.”

“Friends are a distraction and I’ve been betrayed too many times.” Petra deadpanned.

“You’re worth all the time in the world, which we have considering you traded your ability to see your sister for immortality as my champion. Fall in love, see the world, live a little, my dear.” Nytoria smiled mournfully.

“My sister was happy. She found a girl and she settled down after we brought that spineless priest that ordered my death all those years ago to justice. Emotional bonds slow me down. It’s why I never told her I was alive.” Petra said, studying the blood red brand on her arm.

“You did the right thing. She never would have rested had she known.” Nytoria said, her 6’7” frame giving Petra a sympathetic hug.

“She deserves to rest. But not me. I still have work to do and loving someone just isn’t in the cards.” Petra said, her thoughts of the past swimming through her brain, reliving the trauma and pain she had gone through in her 21 years.

~~~~~

Petra grew up in a village a couple days travel from Rexentrum. Years before the war with Xhorhas, Petra grew up reviled by the very people she was born to. Her people worshipped a god of protection and being the chosen of a god no one had heard of with a brand on her arm didn’t make things any better. Even her parents refused to accept that their child was heretical by nature. Thankfully her sister, Neraia managed to sneak her out of the city and raise her properly. When she turned 14, she and her sister were separated by assassins sent by the priest, St. Morvarian and she spent the better part of 2 years searching for her. During that time she became renowned as the Heretic, a cryptic mercenary with abilities only the gods could grant, hemocraft, mental domination, and blood red wings. She eventually used these skills to hone her sword skills, find her sister who, to this day, believed her sister to be dead, and burn the corrupt town to ash.

~~~~~

“One question for you before you start inquiring of me. Why keep your made up name? Did Anezi Diasea not suit you?” Nytoria asked.

Petra smiled. “It was a name given to me by family. As an aasimar with divine blood that runs through my veins, I felt no love for a name that was given to me by a corrupt system. Plus, Petra Naverrian suits me much better.”

“Fair. Well, as the goddess of free will, I accept your reasoning. Now, how can I help you, dear champion?” Nytoria drifted in front of her.

“What plane did we land on?” Petra asked without hesitation.

“Oh come on, love, you know the rules.”

“Oh shit, sorry. Yes or no questions only for this spell. Is a safe haven somewhere close to here?”

Nytoria pondered. “Safe isn’t the word I would use, but knowing you, you’d probably think so.”

“Fantastic. The village where these poor bastards come from, will they be missed?” Petra asked, grimly.

Nytoria smiled with a devious grin. “Oh absolutely not, you chaotic little thing. Though once old toothless over here tried to put his hand on your arse, I knew his fate was sealed.”

Petra laughed. “He deserved everything that came his way. Had it under control this time, not like the day we met.” As she thought back to that traumatic day.

~~~~~

Petra was tired and hungry. As she searched for her sister, her brand burned like ashes on her skin.

“NERAIA, WHERE ARE YOU!” Petra called, trying to focus while ignoring her brand. Why did she have this? It had never helped her. She was only 14. Those assassins from a few days ago were still tracking her, but this persistent burning was starting to hurt.

“Ah, there you are.” Three shadows walked out from behind the trees.

Petra spun around. “No, no please don’t.” She pleaded, her arm now exuding a crimson red aura.

“What? We just have a gift for you. Be a shame not to grant you something only we can give.” As they rushed her. Right before they grabbed her, Petra felt time slow to a stop. Except she was still moving.

She took a second to catch her breath, a knife inches away from her flesh brandished by the men and women who separated her from her sister, when she heard a voice.

“It’s about time we met. I heard your pleas. I wanted to wait until you were old enough, but it seems you’re ready now.” A woman said.

“Who are you? And what is going on?” Petra stuttered, clearly at her wits end.

“I am the goddess who saved your life. You poor thing, I’ve watched you since you were a baby. You’ve seen and experienced so much. So much rage, so many traumas. Assaults, violations…” The woman answered.

“Why are you just showing yourself now?” Petra said, tears streaming down her face.

The woman smiled, hand on Petra’s face. “The gods don’t interfere with human matters unless we need to, but I couldn’t keep watching you suffer rape and attacks like you have been. The pantheon forbade me from acting until now and considering I’m fairly new to this, I’ve been trying to reach out since you were born. I am Nytoria and I’m here to grant you the power to take back your control.”

Petra cried. “How? I don’t know any magic.”

Nytoria smiled. “My dearest champion, you need only ask. You need not lift a finger. Have them destroy themselves. I promised the world free will, but that does not mean all deserve it. And so, my girl, you will be my arm of judgment. Take their freedom that they have taken from you multiple times and rend them in twain.” She said, disappearing.

As time slowly started to move again, Petra turned and with a flourish of her hand, the woman of the group of three, knife extended, slashed the throat of her comrade, then stabbed her other friend several times in the spine. Finally, when she awoke from her domination and saw her actions, screamed, and ran in the opposite direction. Petra, drenched in blood and holding a divine saber, which she had no idea how long she’d been holding, stared in awe and her own prowess and knew this might be enough to take her life back.

~~~~~

As Petra refocused after remembering that day, she had her final question. “Is there a person watching me and if so, are they friendly?” Petra asked. Nytoria thought to herself. “Because I like you, I’ll let that slide, you rulebreaker. Yes, there is someone watching. A very interesting being to be sure, but friendly is an operative word. But who knows. Knowing you, you might get along famously.” Nytoria said before disappearing with a wink.

Taking a deep breath, Petra called out. “I promise I won’t hurt you. These rats deserved it, but I promise I won’t attack unless you give me reason.” Out of the shadows strode a hooded creature. She looked human, but not human. Smiling with a creepy grin, but somehow, Petra wasn’t unsettled.

“You smell new, child. Something not of this world.” The creature spoke with a witch-like tone. “You would be correct. I am fairly new to this place and am looking for refuge. Would you know of a place like that?” Petra asked the hooded woman.

The woman smiled a creepy smile. “We may be able to help each other. We have been watching you since your arrival not long ago and my lady, intrigued by your demeanor and energy, requests an audience. My name is Daniela and if you would be so kind, I would have you follow me.” Petra, skeptical but interested, spoke after some thought. “I guess. I don’t see why not. Lead the way.” “Fantastic. Follow.” Daniela urged.

~~~~~

Petra arrived with Daniela at the huge castle, slowly feeling more and more nervous. She couldn’t help it. Something was sapping her self-confidence, but not in a bad way.

Daniela knocked on the large front door and said “You know, my lady does not take interest in many people, so feel honored that you have this chance. She is an imposing woman and will not accept impudence, so please try to make a good first impression.”

Petra nodded, unable to form words as the door swung open. As they walked in, Petra was unable to hide her amazement as the castle had an extremely refined nature to it. Tapestries, paintings, and decorations lined the walls as she walked into the room leading to the main staircase. It felt strangely warm in this castle, so without thinking, Petra removed her coat and slung it over her shoulder, revealing her usual lack of shirt and gauze-wrapped chest binder. Petra was a fighter, but hated clothes because they restricted her movement and hindered her fighting, so she preferred just to tie down her assets.

As she entered the main room, she beheld a fireplace, burning with an intense light, and several candles to keep the chamber illuminated.

As they travelled up the stairs, they heard the thudding of footsteps, but not normal footsteps. It sounded like wolf footsteps.

“Shit…” Daniela muttered, diving out of the way as a massive wolf leaped at Petra. Petra, in an instant, sidestepped the pounce and drew her saber and pointed it at the creature. The wolf snarled as it turned toward her, haunches bristled as it slowly crawled closer to Petra.

“Tyrian, no, down, this is a guest.” Daniela scolded in a way what seemed to be out of character for her. As Petra turned towards Daniela in confusion, the wolf changed forms to reveal a naked girl with markings and a long braid that looked a foot taller than Petra. Petra blushed bright red, not because she was naked, but because “Oh my god, she’s gorgeous.” Petra accidentally said out loud.

“Fucking make me, I do what I want.” The wolfgirl said, staring at Petra for whatever reason. Petra, having the biggest gay panic of her life, could not look her in the eyes in fear of giving too much away. She sheathed her sword and said, voice cracking like crazy, “Yeah uh I’m just here to see the Lady of the Castle is that you by chance wow I’m still talking how are you?” “No, of course, it’s not me.” The wolfgirl said, eyes still trained in pure confusion on Petra. Petra was having a really hard time keeping eye contact with Tyrian because the view was stunning and her mind was running wild. Tyrian continued. “Dimetrescu is just down the hall. And Daniela, go fuck yourself.” “Yeah, fuck you too, Tyrian.” Daniela sneered. “Follow me, Petra, ignore her. Petra followed, but, God, was it hard to leave a girl like that.

Daniela finally led Petra into a sitting room where a woman was sitting. She was as tall as Petra was. Sitting. As the woman turned towards her, she had pale white skin, just like her and had this air of sophistication around her that intimidated her. Petra was never good at small talk and especially in high class situations. As she turned, Petra had a heart attack. The second one tonight. She was attractive as all hell, but not in the same way. Tyrian was attractive in a feral, wild child, would probably strip Petra naked at a moments notice kind of way. This woman had an intense, powerful, enticing vibe that drew you in and made you want to follow her every word. And Petra hated being told what to do.m which made this all the more confusing.

“Petra. What a lovely name for such an adorable girl. I am Alcina Dimitrescu and I own this estate. Daniela, leave us for a moment while we talk. And bring back Tyrian, I want to talk to her.” Daniela nodded, leaving the room. Alcina continued. “So, my child, you have a touch of immortality about you. Care to explain?” Petra could not speak. The gay panic attack she was experiencing was too strong. “I know the feeling. As a vampire, death does not come easily and especially someone of your figure…” Alcina said, giving Petra a noticeable once over, “would garner some interesting attention.” Petra swallowed hard and finally spoke. “If you’re interested in the men I killed, I’m sorry they were being…” “Oh no worries at all, my dear. Have a seat, drink some wine.” Petra sat, trying hard not to fan herself from how hard she was blushing. God, this woman was a gift to the senses. “Those men definitely deserve it and you disposed of them so elegantly, I can’t help but be impressed.” The lady said, eyes trained on Petra.

Petra felt so self conscious. This is the second time in a row she’d been blatantly eye scanned by an attractive woman and the attention was getting to her.

Lady Dimetrescu, clearly sensing Petra’s emotional state, smiled lovingly. “I’ll cut straight to the chase, darling. I want you to feel at home here. I have dozens of extra rooms and I would be honored if you filled one of them. You’re just so adorably vicious and it would be a pleasure to get to know you.”

Petra, still blushing, finally spoke. “It would be my pleasure. I’m just so new here. I am a cleric, miss, and do have loyalty to my goddess, Nytoria, but it would be a pleasure to stay here and continue to craft my magic here.” Petra, stumbling over her words as she got shy and reserved.

Lady Dimetrescu smiled. As she did, Tyrian bounded in. “Ah yes, Tyrian, I need your help with something. Petra darling, stand up for me and take the binding off for me.”

Petra blushed profusely. “Yes, mistress.” She said and did as she was told. Lady Dimetrescu smiled with such a warm loving glow and Tyrian had this wild grin on her face. Petra should have felt self conscious but she felt loved and attractive. Something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“What do you think Tyrian? Should we marry her?” “Wait what?!” Petra said, not hiding her excitement at all. “You called me in to ask me about something you already knew the answer to?” Tyrian said. Petra gushed with embarrassment. All of this was happening WAY too fast and she did not care. “Then it’s settled. Welcome to the family, Petra. We’re your new wives.”

Petra smiled and immediately sat down in Alcina’s lap as she gave a loving kiss on the forehead and Petra felt a presence. Nearby, in a place somewhere only Petra could feel, Nytoria was smiling in such a proud manner and could not be happier with her little champion.

[polandspringz]

Can you tell us something about the villain turned side character and your protagonist:0

First, thank you for sending an ask! I've been wanting to share stuff from my original work for so long, but there's a lot of context since the story is so big so for context to these characters I'll give a very brief overview. (If someone wants a more detailed version I'll give it!)

It's a fantasy story set mainly in the kingdom/country of Ruyzex that was founded only within the last thirty years or so, and the stories those who witnessed it's liberation say that it was led by one man who lead the "war campaign" but negotiated without anyone having to fight a single battle. This man was supposedly blessed with magical abilities and many of the people who knew he view him as God, but one day he became a nomad and abandoned everyone, including his son, who always resented him. As such, people believe a fight between the son is to blame for their "God's" departure.

The story ACTUALLY follows three women who are "amnesiac heroes", who wake up with no memory beyond the horrible conditions they are found in as victims of trafficking, before they are rescued. Each of these women have magical powers like the God who left, and while they do not know how to use them, many people believe that they are their God returned or at least can be turned into him or replace him... or be brainwashed into replacing someone else who was lost.

My protagonist is a young woman named Dreil Ruyzex, who not knowing her own name took the name of her "home" (the town and country she was rescued in). She wakes up with her first memory being bloodshed, finding her kidnappers murdered beyond recognition around her and is terrified. She is rescued by a mysterious man who brings her to someone named Seio, who is the son of the governor of the southern most city, and lives in a house for people who were rescued and displaced and brought to Ruyzex through trafficking. While gaining her bearings there and becoming close with the other victims, Dreil awakens her powers due to several stressful events, and she is terrified, because she realizes that she had been the one to transform into a blind rage and eviscerate her captors, but she also has the power to heal people. Dreil doesn't particularly want to use her powers because she's scared of losing it and hurting everyone she loves, and Seio tells her to keep it a secret anyway, lest the people who come and visit the town discover her powers and suspect she is "like Ruy". However, Dreil ends up having to use them and learn how to use them when the city gets raided by people who kill two of the children she was living with and kidnap one of her new friends, Mierre. Seio and the other characters want to get Mierre back, and while they've traced the possible route she was taken, they also decide it's time to confront the Queen on this matter to crackdown on the traffickers who should have been outlawed back when the kingdom was established. Dreil forces them to bring her along, insisting she would be useful as a healer, and as they journey from the south to the northern point of the country, she has to battle bandits, cults, actual demons, and eventually soldiers from the castle as she learns the history of the land she has found herself in and joins resistance efforts to uncover the corruption within the mysterious capital.

Again, I'm being VERY VERY brief and vague because there's so much so apologies if it sounds cliche/not super interesting right now. Dreil as a protagonist starts off as an amnesiac but very quickly she does remember things, like her homeland, but the place she is from is actually such a mysterious region itself. Because of her appearance, she has similar features to the God who left, Ruy, which adds to the fanatic people in the city wanting to try and "shape" her into a new Ruy, or viewing her as a gift sent by him to them. One of the original ideas that shaped this story was when I was in middle school I was reading a lot of dystopian fiction (although this isn't a dystopian society really, although we are fighting the government at one point it's not how you think, they're not the "evil" in the story), and I thought about what if there was a story where the main girl didn't really want to go on the journey that she was being called to, since normally in dystopian works something big happens or is lost and the protagonist is all "I must instantly seek my revenge." This idea has been changed quite a bit in my work, but when Dreil lives peacefully in the city for a complete year before the raid happens, and during that time she helps rescue two children from traffickers in a neighboring town- waking up one day and sensing the gaze of someone staring at her from miles away. Although they're not much younger than her (Dreil is around 19-20, the "children" are actually teenagers) they help each other heal and develop a life together.

This goes into how characters changed and have been shaped across many years of working on this story actually. Many of my characters started off as villains or had more secretive goals and beyond Dreil originally were more gray than pure good. Seio is the deuteragonist and his goal is to rescue Mierre, but Dreil doesn't have a goal. The people she would rescue are dead, so what should she do? And now everyone she knows in the house she has lived in are leaving on a journey, and leaving her behind. In early versions of the story, the children did live and were captured, and Seio wanted Dreil to come along on the journey by telling her things like "maybe we can find them!" and not really tricking her but he was sort of working with the main enemy in needing her to come with him to the capital, therefore he tried to use the children as persuasion. In the more recent drafts of the story, Seio leaves Dreil behind, and due to him being distracted and angry at what has happened to his home he does not help much when Dreil is grieving. However, a conversation with someone else convinces Dreil to run after them and force them to take her along on the journey, citing she wants not necessarily revenge on those who took from her, but wants to help end the pain the traffickers have caused once and for all (and she doesn't want to be alone).

Now if I'm going to talk about my "villain turned side character" I have to get into the whole angels and demons thing I brushed over earlier, HAHA.

It does seem very "edgy middle school OC" to have angels and demons in a story, but I grew up reading a lot of Christian fantasy stories so this is where my writing stems from. Although I don't view my story as falling into this category, I've taken a lot of influence from them and the things I wish they did in those stories. For example, one of the things that always annoyed me was the Jesus-figure in those stories was always the obvious "King" who was a mysterious man who appeared like right before the big battle where you knew he was gonna die in the fight and then come back to life because he's the Jesus metaphor and that's it. He's never a main character or one with any real depth or character, so I wanted to change that. Hence, there's a WHOLE CAN OF WORMS surrounding what I can get into about my decisions when creating Ruy, but we're not here to talk about him right now, were here to talk about one of his friends, an angel named Orielle.

In original versions of the story, Dreil and Seio and her friends had to journey to the capital of the country and rescue their friend who had been taken and battle their way through several people at the ruins of the castle. Orielle was this figure who appeared every time there was a turn in their journey, taunting them, leaving them clues to get to the castle. He appeared in the fires of the raid, he appeared in the woods and challenged Dreil to a fight where she would have to use her murderous, uncontrollable power, he stood at the top of the castle before the final battle and revealed three "weapons" he had been making, several characters who were like Dreil in that they were blessed with powers but had been kidnapped and shaped into fighting for the wrong side. Orielle existed because I needed a villain and was still working things out. He was older originally, more middle aged and spoke in a booming deep voice and always looked down with his eyes narrowed as if passing judgement. But then as time went on I created more characters and the plot points filled themselves out (there was more than just the ending battle thought up) Orielle wasn't really needed anymore because a new villain had replaced him, but to be honest I still liked his name, so I just changed who he was.

Besides Ruy, who is the "God" figure in the story and his powers are for certain established to be from some higher power that he might well be (he's also an amnesiac hero as well, when you learn about him), and Dreil and the other two protagonists, whose powers are also from the same "good" source as Ruy (but for all intents and purposes we won't say it's "heavenly" or "celestial" in it's source), there are angels and demons. Angels are different than Ruy and Dreil, and Ruy and Dreil were people who when they were created their bodies always had power within them. They have one soul, and it is the one that is able to wield their power. Angels however are created more like vessels. There were certain people in the world who were made so their bodies could withstand the use of power beyond human means, so when on one fateful chaotic day (around 14 years before the start of the story, called "the Fall of Smokeflake") the souls or spirits of the angels descended and joined with the souls of their vessels, thus now these people had angelic power they could wield, and knowledge of the mission they must do, and knowledge of the past, present, and future. They do not have access to ALL of this information, as the souls are not fully one but they act as one when talking, although sometimes in the story there are points where a character must note that the "human" or the "angel" is speaking to them more and that might be unreliable. The angels know that if their vessels knew too much it would break them, especially if the future involves a massive battle where everyone is slaughtered at the end of the journey.

So, BACK TO ORIELLE. He has become an angel, really an archangel, and appears in the story mainly through the journals left behind by Ruy, which contain the history of Ruyzex and Dreil reads along her journey to understand her own power and the mysterious man that is like her. Orielle is Ruy's guidance, as he descends early in his true spiritual form to save his God from a landslide, but Ruy rejects him and sends him away because he doesn't understand what is going on. Orielle later becomes Ruy's only ally when Ruy is locked underground for three years and Orielle stays there, still not connected with his human vessel (because his vessel was not born yet), keeping Ruy alive and sane by putting him in a stasis-like sleep and giving him dreams and memories of the war that angels and demons fought, helping to clear up his confusion and his purpose in the human world, and who Ruy is going to meet. Years later, during the main story, Orielle is in the body of his vessel, a prince born to the kingdom to the north, Meltiux, who is campaigning for his right to the throne as it is a country of matriarchs, and for some reason the two princesses of Meltiux have been missing/no one remembers them...? Orielle is met at various points throughout the main story as he is visiting in Ruyzex and the Empire of Ker, Ruyzex's neighbor to the west, not only trying to build up his diplomatic relations and make himself "worthy" of the throne but also trying to meet up with the heroes and help them along the way. Of the seven angels, he is one of three who have actually met Ruy personally, which makes him very high ranking amongst the other angels hidden throughout the world, and because he was beside Ruy for every step of the journey and the war campaign, he is the leader in the absence of their real leader.

So, that's all I'll say for now! I apologize for the length, it was kind of impossible to explain my protagonist without going into the story somewhat. And I didn't want to just be like "she's nice, she's courageous" because I don't really view my characters in traits like that? I've just been so focused on their place in the plot that their characterization is so synonymous with the story for me that I can't really separate them, lol. Thank you for the ask! I'm willing to go into more detail in follow up posts about anything since there are WAY WAY more characters than even mentioned here.

[romioneficfest]

My Gift to the RFF Community

Good Evening/Afternoon/Morning to everyone who has read, commented, reviewed, and most of all created content for this inaugural fest. My Black scaly heart is almost beating normally for all of the excellent works presented for consideration and appreciation.

While the one who inspired this fest didn’t contribute (and ‘tis since RL is a pain in the arse right now for most people!) I’m glad so many did contribute their time and efforts to this fest. 84 total works were submitted, 77 of which are up for voting consideration.

1 more will be published, an unabridged version of one of the fics submitted. The creator trimmed it down to meet fest rules but I promised them I’d post the unabridged version once voting started. 

However, I wish to offer my gift to you, one from a special place in my heart - the old theory of what happens to the man who suddenly has almost everything he wants yet doesn’t need? Does it corrupt him, like the Invisible Man? Or is his character so resolute that it doesn’t affect him in the least?

Thus, I give you this fic, as to how I think it would progress.

Title: Windfall Prompt: Bonus Day  Author: Dragon Rating: K+ Brief Summary: Hermione comes home from work and finds Ron sitting quietly in his office, reading parchment. When he doesn’t hear her, which is odd for him, she goes to investigate. Ron shows her what has his attention.

Content Warning: Indirect mention of minor character death; Hermione giving serious cheek

‘What a bloody long day,’ Hermione kicked off her dress shoes and put down her satchel, appreciating the fluffy carpets under her toes. Dealing with law enforcement misconduct was always a pain. They needed different procedures on Bailiff and Auror interactions.

Broken from her thoughts by the lack of dinner smell, she looked around. Ron wasn’t in the kitchen, preparing dinner like he loved to do. The kids were still at Hogwarts, with another month’s worth of term left before they returned home.

She tossed aside her purse and went to their office, the one he magically and lovingly expanded so they would have room to work without getting underfoot while also appreciating each other’s company. Sure enough, Ron was in there, wearing the half-moon glasses he picked up last year to help with the small print reading he said to her, even if she knew already. It wasn’t like she didn’t have her own sets to wear as well since there were so many documents crossing her desk that had too much fine print to read comfortably after long hours at the office.

‘Ron,’ said Hermione. He hadn’t heard her walk into their home which seemed a bit odd. He hadn’t heard her this time, either.

She walked the five steps to where he was sitting in his comfortable chair and put her hand on his shoulder. He reciprocated and without saying a word, he handed up the three sheets of parchment up to her, saying nary a word.

Hermione scanned the first page and gasped! While she was never close to Aunt Muriel, she was his family and she would treat her with respect, even if she didn’t like her too much, not with how nitpicky she was with the women in the family. Angelina was the only one. Somehow they’d bonded and were fast friends. Hermione couldn’t understand it.

She flipped to the second page, reading the document and as she scanned the page, her eyes widened for every single subsequent line she read. She flipped it to the third before looking down and seeing her husband quite lost in thought.

She went back and re-read it all, making sure she knew and understood what she read. 

‘I’m sorry about Aunt Muriel,’ the bushy-haired witch said. 

‘I’m surprised she lived as long as she did. But even Healers couldn’t help her any longer.’ 

‘She is still family,’ Hermione put her hand back on his shoulder and squeezed. 

‘She wasn’t a favourite of mine, not like you or Dad.’ Ron took the parchment and put it back down on his desk. ‘What are we going to do?’ 

‘That’s up to you, Ron. It’s not like either of us is comfortable attending funerals anymore.’ 

‘Hell no,’ He sighed. ‘I should go. It’s the right thing to do.’ 

‘Why don’t you ask Mum and Dad what they think? If they say you don’t have to, then don’t.’

Tapping on the office window interrupted their conversation. ‘Wonder what else is going to happen today?’ Ron got up and went to the window, letting the small barn owl land on his wrist while sticking a leg out for the small rolled parchment attached. ‘Need a kip or a rasher?’

The owl hooted and Ron put it on the temporary roost where the owl could have a drink of water and a snack. ‘Does this need a reply?’ The owl gave one very long hoot. ‘No? Ok. Stay as long as you need. I’m sure you’re a bit tired.’

He unrolled the parchment and scanned the short note, breathing a sigh of relief. ‘It’s a note from Mum. She said that Aunt Muriel made all of her arrangements and, said there are no services since she said we’d been through enough.’

‘That’s surprising, the way she prattled about everyone coming to visit.’

‘Nah, she meant well, even if she was as cranky as Crookshanks.’

‘Well, he is very old, and so was she.’

The silence grew between the married couple, both lost in their thoughts.

‘We could move to a bigger house,’ he blurt out. ‘I know the kids aren’t home much nowadays and that we’re both still working entirely too much but maybe something closer to Mum and work might make things easier?’

‘Our house is fine, Ron. I’m comfortable here especially since most people don’t know where we live. We decided that issue years ago. While yes, I am well known and so are you, if not in the same ways, we don’t need an enormous country estate to flaunt our prestige.’

‘A holiday, perhaps? It’s been a little while since we were off work and away from here.’

‘We can do that,’ Hermione replied noncommittedly. ‘An extended Holiday might be quite lovely, especially if it is somewhere cold this time of the year.’

‘It’s the middle of winter in Australia right now,’ Ron smiled. Hermione returned it fondly, reflecting on that complex time in their lives when grief and rage along with relief and exploration fueled their time tracking down her parents. ‘You said you wanted to return. We could take the kids with us and let them see some of the sights.’

Hermione hummed noncommittedly.

‘What are you thinking, dear?’

‘Do you remember that memorable night about a week after we arrived in Australia?’

‘Which one? Most of them were memorable while we were in Australia. So you’ll have to remind me.’

‘We were in bed after,’ Hermione blushed, ‘and you said what you would do if you had a ridiculous sum of money. While the reward money from the Order of Merlin presentation was nice,’ she added.

‘It was enough to get you your engagement ring and have some galleons in a Gringott’s account,’ Ron added. ‘I think I remember that night now.’

Hermione ran her fingers through his hair. ‘Do you remember what you said you’d do if you had Malfoy money?’

‘You mean before they were bankrupted funding the coup, left destitute and so desperate for galleons Draco went to work?’ He smiled. ‘That part is a bit fuzzy, but then I do think it was half three when we had that conversation and I was about asleep.’

She smiled. ‘You said if you lucked into a stupid amount of money someday and that if we were comfortable financially, you’d want to help others.’

‘I’ve wanted to help others, Hermione. You know the shite I went through, with a broken wand, robes that were too small, clothes that were so short I showed inches of ankles, and those ghastly dress robes.’

Hermione stood behind her husband, rubbing his shoulders. ‘We’ll see to your parents first.’

‘Mum and Dad always come first,’ Ron said without hesitation.

‘And if they don’t want it or say they don’t? What do you want to do?’

‘Tell Bill to put some in there anyway,’ Ron answered.

‘And if the will has them sorted?’

‘I dunno, maybe a Holiday?’

Hermione was quiet, with Ron turning to look at her. ‘What?’

‘Hear me out on this. What if we took some of that windfall and were able to help kids in your situation so they don’t have to be hampered with a broken wand, or robes that don’t fit or can’t afford the books for the term?’

‘Well, the books have already been seen to. You took care of those issues years ago, once you started working.’

‘True but other supplies weren’t included,’ she added. She lifted the parchment and scanned the document. ‘Reading this as I think I am,’

‘Which you probably are,’ Ron added.

‘If we got with some of the rest of the family and asked them to chip in a little bit, say 10 galleons each, once, and with this, we could fund a Trust for underprivileged students.’ She took the glasses down her nose a touch, looking over the top of them at his befuddled face. ‘Imagine being a first-year student with a hand me down wand, hand me down robes, and tattered books. How much more do you think you’d have done if you’d had a set of nice daily robes, a wand that worked, or books that weren’t held together with sellotape?’

‘I thought there was a bunch of wands they used later for the kids who couldn’t afford one.’

‘And you know the lore better than I do – The wand chooses the Wizard. ‘

‘But there are things we need to do first,’ he added. ‘Like – ‘

‘Love,’ she interrupted, smiling brightly. ‘I don’t know if you realize, but the amount bequeathed is a vast sum.’

‘Vast?’

Hermione smiled. ‘Vast, love. Off the top of my head, and the current conversion rate of 10 pounds to the galleon, I’d say it’s –

’10 British pounds to the galleon? You’re full of it.’ Ron took them back and looked at the parchment. He muttered a few words under his breath, doing his calculations.’ He looked up from the parchment and his eyes were about to water. ‘Holy Fuck. Where the bloody fuck did she get that kind of money?’

‘I’m sure it’s been passed down the Prewett lines and with your Uncles perishing before marrying – ‘

‘That left Mum sole beneficiary – ‘

‘And Mum probably asked for Aunt Muriel to pass it over it to the kids.’

‘I imagine the Goblins liked getting their hands on their portion of the Estate. I get that’s how they afford the upkeep and everything but it’s bloody buggering hard to see them get 25% of the value.’

‘At least it’s not on the Muggle side. Theirs is 40% over a certain value.’

Ron looked back at the paperwork. ‘Well, I at least want to give Mum and Dad a Holiday. They’ve not been anywhere for themselves in yonks.’

‘Oh, I agree. And we can take a small one too. It still leaves us quite a bit to play with, I reckon.’

Ron sighed. ‘Growing up, I always wanted to have galleons in my own vault at Gringott’s. I didn’t like that we had to scramble to pay for things second and third hand, listening to Mum begging us to make something last ‘just one more year’. Ron turned his chair around and gave her a crushing hug, squeezing hard but not enough to make her wince. ‘It hurt, Hermione.’

‘I know and we’re not in that situation. We worked very hard early on, saved our galleons, lived frugally and modestly and here we are. The kids are happy and want for nothing, even if they don’t get all they want. We have some nice things, we travel a bit for pleasure, and we’re comfortable.’

‘It’s hard to let go of that mindset, Hermione.’ Ron looked up at his wife, smiling at her. ‘But if we can keep kids from going through what I did, I think it’ll be a big benefit and a tremendous help down the line.’

Hermione kissed Ron on the forehead. ‘Maybe we could speak with Parvati and Lavender and ask them how much a basic robe costs? It wouldn’t be fancy but something that the kids wouldn’t mind.’

‘What about regular clothes? Aren’t most kids in better shape than we were?’

‘It’s easy enough to pick quality things up at charity shops. Supplies shouldn’t be difficult to acquire as well. I’m sure if we ask McGonagall if there are students in need, she’d let us know.’

‘You think we can do this? You think we can make a difference in a kid’s life?’

Hermione knelt, holding her husband’s face in her hands. ‘How much did you appreciate getting nice robes fifth year and a new broom?’

‘Loved it,’ he whispered. ‘I didn’t know for yonks that Harry told the twins to buy me new robes, the git.’

‘But it helped, didn’t it?’

‘I reckon so.’ His face betrayed how he really felt.

‘If you’re worried about people connecting you with what we’re doing we can always put it in another name. We could call it the Muriel Prewett Trust.’

‘She’d go nutters if she knew it was named after her.’

‘So name it after your Uncles? Or Fred? Or Weasley Family Trust?’

An enormous smile broke out on his face. Ron stood, taking his wife’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply, showing her how much her help was appreciated.

‘Esteemed Directors,’ Hermione’s voice boomed in the Wizengamot. She stood in the middle of the floor, splendid in her Tyrian purple robes, a set of gold wands embroidered on the right chest and a Prewitt family heirloom brooch on her left. ‘I wish to broach the last bit of business with you before the term starts.’

‘Go ahead, Solicitor Granger,’ Kingsley’s voice echoed well in the chambers. He smiled, knowing what was about to be discussed.

‘A few months ago, the last of a particular family name from the Sacred 28 passed away from old age. Her heirs, with their blessing,’ Hermione looked up into the stands and saw her husband smiling back at her, ‘have asked to establish a trust for the students of Hogwarts.’

‘The school is properly funded for decades. Why do we require a Trust?’ The elderly wizard she knew all too well spoke first. ‘Hogwarts does not need a trust.’

‘I didn’t say the school, Mr Purifoy,’ she stared back at the old wizard who had previously been Chief Mugwump for the Wizengamot before retiring years prior. ‘I said for the students. The school is well funded. I verified the books before making this appointment.’

‘Go on,’ an elderly witch spoke up. ‘It’s time for afternoon tea.’

‘I promise to hurry, Minister Shafiq.’ Hermione looked around at the old faces and ancient robes. ‘The trust is for the students, for those in need. While many might bristle if it’s considered charity, there are those in need.’

‘No student has ever been turned away from Hogwarts, not in the centuries it’s been open.’

‘I realize that. What I am proposing is that this trust is for those students who arrive at Hogwarts with legitimate needs. How many students arrive at Hogwarts wearing second-hand robes, or a cauldron that explodes the first time they use it because the bottom is too thin? How many have out of date books because that’s all the parents can afford? Minister, we still have a few students coming to us who are the last of the War Orphans. These children have meagre means and no way to catch up with their peers. What I am proposing on behalf of the family is equity, not charity, but investment and philanthropy.’

‘Go on,’ another voice spoke.

‘These students, when they receive their letter for Hogwarts will include in their parchment parcel a letter from the Trust, offering to assist them financially, should they choose. The offering is a set of robes, all necessary supplies, a set of books, and a voucher for Ollivander’s to receive their first wand. Since we don’t recommend children having a duel for a wand, and the number of wands inherited from elders are limited, why not offer these students a head start to their magical education?’

‘That’s ridiculous! Everyone would leap at the chance to have someone else pay for all of their necessities.’

‘You misunderstand me, sir. No one person makes this decision, nor is it made lightly. Why would we make this offer to, say, Draco Malfoy, for his son when they are financially comfortable? These would be pre-screened before they receive their letter.’ She looked around and saw a few heads nodding. ‘It’s not equal treatment, esteemed colleagues, but equity, where those students in need of a hand receive it. While we educate them, we’re also meeting their basic needs and we’re building a better future for our way of life. The funds wouldn’t be thrown around for parties, or fundraising. No, this trust is self-funded by the family in question. And there are ample funds to last for centuries if handled properly.’

‘How many can this help immediately, Solicitor?’ Another voice spoke up.

‘Immediately? Ten students. That accounts for half the starting fund. For every student that doesn’t need assistance, the funds accumulate. Eventually, if properly managed and the one entrusted is bonded to manage the Trust, in 30 years, half the school could be seen to, given current enrollment figures.’

‘Half, you say? That’s a load of rubbish,’ Ewan Purifoy retorted.

‘Rubbish, you say? Since you grew up when being part of a Pureblood family guaranteed your position in society,’ a rumble erupted through the chambers, ‘there are dozens of children starting at Hogwarts who lack a quill or an ink jar. How much return on the investment would we receive to giving those less fortunate children an equal start? How much benefit would Wizarding society receive for these children coming to Hogwarts, not privileged but receiving the tools and supplies they need to prosper? I don’t see you opening your vault, Sir, to afford an opportunity, though you have the means.’

He harrumphed. ‘If the family in question wishes to bankrupt themselves on children who won’t appreciate the generosity of charity, who am I to tell someone how they afford it?’

Hermione bristled. ‘You stood aside when children died. You sneer at as charity is an investment in our way of life’s future. Wasn’t enough magical blood spilt for supposed Pureblood Supremacy? They are our future. You aren’t part of it, Purifoy,’ she pierced him with a hard stare, earning one in return.

A roar erupted.

‘Order,’ Kingsley’s voice boomed. He waited for the room to settle. ‘Motion to proceed on approval of the Fredrick Gideon trust raise their hands.’

Most members raised their hands.

‘Motion to dismiss?’ Two hands went up.

‘Motion is hereby approved. The Fredrick Gideon Trust for Hogwarts students is available as of 8 am tomorrow. Adjourned.’

Immediately Hermione was engulfed by strong arms. “You did it!” Ron spun her around.

“No Love. You did it.” She kissed him.

[maruzzewrites]

Can you write a Risotto x reader with Abbi cura di me - Simone Cristicchi please! Umm can it be something like Riz doing everything he can to kee reader for himself. And his descent from sweet love to yandere-ish love! Instead of reader being afraid of him , they grow to love him a lot. It’s ok if you can’t or don’t like this request!

Content warnings: yandere content, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, description of violence, gore, death.

Life was, is andwill be important for Risotto. Despite how idealistic this ideal sounded tounknowing ears, the dark man was anything but. He knew life, and he knew death,held both in his hands and transformed one into the other. His line of workdealt with both, and much more, making him stare into the eyes of dying men andwomen to strangled every last ounce of energy from their bodies, until theywere merely limp husks to dispose. Yet, Risotto knew the value of life; afterso much time spent with corpses, one starts to appreciate the animation ofliving beings.

The first timehe faced life, it was the day his aunt run to his grandmother’s home. Therushed steps, the steady tears, the hushed whispers and the ready pleas; theychoked the voices of the two women as they wailed, and moaned, a young Risottosimply witnessing the scene as a play of pathetic emotion. Yet, it laid in hismemory with vivid colors, like a painting in a museum, distant in time. And hefaced death soon after, at the funeral; the warm, shining sun illuminating acrowd of people burying a young teen, a face he knew and grew up with. His facestayed cold, muscles unmoving, but a frown adorned his forehead as hisgrandmother gripped his arms tightly to keep herself up through the pain.

That day,Risotto faced life and death for the first time, and he learnt something abouthimself. He couldn’t process emotions the same way others would; when he wassupposed to mourn and cry, he could only feel bubbling rage, white-hot anddripping blood. And when he saw the man who caused this revelation, his cousin’sbutcher, he couldn’t feel satisfaction or relief at his sentence. Yet, he wasmerely a young boy, still in school, with his duties and years in front of him,with all his life stretching on the path of his future. Life, after all, wasimportant and it was essential to cherish it until you could, until death camealong.

Soon enough, hebecame fixated on this thought, on this idea. And people, those he loved,needed to cherish life with more attention, more care, more caution; he becameapprehensive in his usual stoic way, as he ordered and nagged those around himwith silent tugs towards watchful behavior. His ways, from worried, becameprogressively more aggressive, until they distorted into almost violentoutbursts of intimidation. And Risotto learnt another, important lesson:friends, family, loved ones didn’t appreciate him intruding into their livesuntil they feared him more than any other threat outside the secure cage of hisaffection.

Everyone triedto wriggle their way out of his grasp; everyone, but a single person. Achildhood friend, one he didn’t think much of after they both grew anddistanced themselves from each other’s social groups. In his quest to keep, tohoard, to protect, they were caught into superficial warnings and pressuresthat meant very little near the ferocious intimidation he offered hisrelatives or closer friends. Nonetheless, they just smiled and thanked him witha thoughtful tone, and he felt time freeze for the minute you continued on yourway.

Everyone pushedhim away, suffocated with too much of that love, and that care, and that devotion.Yet, you just acknowledged his efforts, giving tender care back at him, a sweetsmile complimenting the glint in your eyes as you thanked him once again forthe warnings, notices, advices. And he found himself bashing into the light oflife, following your steps to seek that important element he wanted to protectso much, so dearly. He started to direct all his attention to you, an ignoredpart of his life until that moment, and you just accepted his consideration asif it was kindness.

For the firsttime since the day his cousin died, Risotto was feeling warmth in hisbloodstream and tightness in his throat as he spoke to you, as he spent timewith you. Most people were starting to disappear from his vision, and he couldonly see you with your light steps, bright smile, shining attitude. Whenever hetalked to you, you closed your eyes slowly as if to concentrate all yourattention on your hearing. His heart shuttered in his chest when you started toask him for concrete ways to keep safe, when you confirmed you didn’t want himto worry or concern himself with you more than he needed to.

After so muchtime, he learnt how to be his age again, not plagued by the ghost of a deadteen whose word were distorted by his mind. Maybe, just maybe, he could relaxfor a minute just to relish into the fond embrace of normality, of love andcare. You were delightful, listening to him, clinging to him, asking for him;feeding his own need to have control and protect those he cared about, withoutawakening his more violent side until you hated or feared what you summoned. Itwas just wonderful affection, young fondness, and perhaps any shadow of doubtwould gone from his mind if he waited enough in your glow.

However, lightcan make the shadows harsher just as much it can dim them under its strength.

Despite hisnewfound apathy towards anyone else and heightened affection towards you, hestruggled to keep his darker thoughts under control, around your sunny attitudeand lovely behavior. He would imagine himself hold you so close that your bodycollapsed together into a puddle of blood, flesh, bones; but he limited himselfwith taking your hand in his, enjoying the timid smile to offered him as yourubbed your thumb over his fingers. When he saw other people talking to you, hecould only imagine his fingers keeping their jaws in place as he pressed, andpressed, until the bones would creak and crumple under his ministrations; buthe simply greeted his teeth when you returned your eyes to him, after a quickchat with someone else, still centering your thoughts around him.

Fifteen,sixteen, seventeen. The years passed, passed and didn’t subside those murky contemplations,with you locked away in his arms as corpses clung to his ankles in a futileattempt to ask for forgiveness. He needed an outlet, somewhere to lash outuntil he was empty of that darkness and he could rebuild himself under yoursun. Hurting you, physically or emotionally, it was the last of his thoughts,the thing he didn’t wish for; but who could be the victim of his pent-upaggressiveness, buzzing under his skin and clouding his mind? Risotto knew, hewas aware: the cause of his anger, of his resentment and wrath, out so soondespite his crimes thanks to a corrupt system who couldn’t grant him justice,or rest.

It was chilling,frightening even, how easy it was to end a man’s life. Risotto didn’t findhesitation or indecision when his hands wrapped around that man’s neck,squeezing until he was wheezing and imploring without voice. For Risotto, hedidn’t have a name or a face, just bloody hands and a sin, and his anger flaredup where pity or regret should have been. With boiling strength guiding him, heshook that body and slammed the back of the man’s head on the ground, again andagain, with increasing force. It wasn’t a raptus, or madness, and Risottostayed lucid and in control for the entire time. When he felt the man’sheartbeat slow down and wither under his fingertips, still grasping his neck,he stood up and walked away as if he didn’t have blood under his nails.

The followingdays, they were fast and chaotic, but never blurry. The corpse discovered, theinvestigation, with suspects and interrogations, the city falling into chaos asyou clung to him for security. He didn’t reveal you anything, scared to taintyour relationship, yet he could only grow worried when the dark thought stayedand worsened as he watched the fear swirling, simmering inside your eyes whenyou looked at him to find safety. His mind was screaming with fury to keep youaway from people, from your own freedom. If you knew who he was, what he haddone, would you still look at him as a savior? If he was to take you away, keepyou to himself, would you resist? Be scared? Or, perhaps, fall into his arms?

The questions hewanted to answer were too many, too shaky the foundation you were standing onto really consider confessing to you his deeds. But all the same, you came toknow the moment he was accused of the murder, and your gaze couldn’t containthe surprise and the fear, breaking his heart, his spirit, his soul. Even if hewanted to stay or bring you with him, he just fled his hometown at the youngage of eighteen, with the outrage and sorrow he left behind following after him.Until he couldn’t hear the cries anymore, until the pointed fingers were out ofhis vision, until your steps couldn’t be heard anymore. And he drowned into thepit he let fester inside of him, the dark thoughts he tried so hard to containfor years, suddenly becoming his very mean of survival.

In the world ofillegality and crime, no one cared if he was violent or destructive, if hecould rip someone’s to sheds or if he wanted to suffocate someone liberty forhis own personal gain. Nonetheless, he felt like sand just slipped through hisfingers, as you became a memory of a past he looked at without regrets. Theonly thing he wanted to go back to was the careless way you looked at him, thegentle love you would display when he would simply stay silent and stoic, withardor in his eyes that others couldn’t see. You were precious to him, youbecame essential in your own, quiet way. Yet, restrained man he was, Risottonever bothered to go back to drag you under his shadow, focused on keeping upthe front he needed for his new life. Or maybe, he had always been this cold,this unfeeling, under the pretense of being a normal person.

The only timeshe felt closer to others were the times he was around someone who fed into hisattics, his suspicions, his paranoias. Never really forgetting the way youfitted perfectly into his being, Risotto went on. Yet, every day reminded himof those moments, of that light; the way he had to see death approaching histargets, the way he felt those people life slithering away under his hands and,later, with the help of Metallica. The contrast of this deadly existence, withthat simple life, made of words and no actions, clawed at the deepest parts ofhis mind until he could only come back to satiate his need to see you.

A part of himwanted you cage you, bring you with him somewhere you couldn’t escape, yet hismore rational brain wanted nothing more than you loathing him and what hebecame so that he could bury those memories deep inside his brain, never to be recreated.His mind couldn’t phantom any other option; it was either hate or possession,both sentiments tainted by his actions that could only lead to your contempt.So, meeting you couldn’t be something he did normally, just bumping into you casuallywhile walking around the streets of his own city.

It took no timeto learn your current address, not far away from your parents’ home, all alonein your room as you got ready to sleep. With an oversized pajama that drapedover your body as if you wanted to hide it from prying eyes, he sneaked in andwaited for you to notice the menacing figure looming in the corner, as soon ashis invisible mantle slipped from his shoulders. With a new blur of colorappearing in the corner of your vision, you turned around with lazy disinterest,replaces soon after with terror and wide-open eyes. There was a beat, silenceveiling this encounter while Risotto watched you with a stony face, coldnessemanating from his attitude.

“Risotto,” yourvoice came out small, and fragile, making something tremble inside of him. Hesupposed it was meant to be a question, but there was enough resolution insidethose words that he doubted his own assumption. He stayed still, in his owncorner, looking down at you in an attempt to intimidate you into submission. However,you stood up from your bed, your steps tentative as they hit the cold floorunder your bare feet. You tiptoed slowly towards him, and somehow he felt likebacking off as a scared animal despite your smaller size. You blinked at him,incredulous, speaking with caution, “Are you really here?”

He kept silent,still, almost lifeless, for a moment, before nodding and admiring with a sloweddown heartbeat that your lips curled up just slightly. You tiptoed closer again,and stopped at less than a meter from him, hugging your arms around your ownbody to protect yourself from the cold, chilly air of February. Risotto remainedmotionless, but his muscles tensed suddenly at the closeness he didn’t expect.His face didn’t betray any sort of emotion, though, if the probing look yougave him could indicate anything. There was relief in your voice when you spokeagain, a note of happiness too, “I missed you.”

Missed him.Risotto never really contemplated the possibility of his object of devotionreciprocating his feelings or his dedication, he was ready to harbor those emotionsin the intimacy of his mind while deciding the actions he would carry on whenhe saw you again. But seeing you with your insignificant frame, curled up tokeep warmth, looking up at him as if he was someone who came to rescue you froma miserable life; something settled inside of him, not quite adjusting hisdarker thoughts of possessing and devouring every part of your life, but hecould sense something softer hatching.

“I came back foryou,” he spoke with an even tone, striding to you with few steps to close the distance.He rested his hands on your arms, holding you while pinning you with his gaze,but you smiled all the same. He continued, encouraged by your wordless serenity,“I have nothing left here but you, so we can run away,” his voice didn’t letout the emotions gripping his throat, the apprehension at your rejection. Heraised his hands once again, to hold the sides of your face with much moredelicacy he first assumed he possessed. Your lack of fear at his action gavehim the push he needed to complete his train of thoughts, “Where do you think Iwill take you?”

You looked athim, studied his eyes with the expertise of someone who could read an ancient,unknown language. Your blinks were slow and measured, your breath was soft asyou sighed, a caress of your nails over the back of his hand signaling him youwere listening still. He could see the comprehension, the absence of loathingbehind your eyes, only the desire to understand and go back, if only to be keptunder his wing to flee somewhere. Then you talked, and Risotto had to restrainhimself from gripping your face with more force, “With you, I don’t care.”

This man, soimposing, dangerous with his bloodthirst and violence pumping under his skin;he didn’t scare you for you knew he never wished to harm you, you didn’t gainany contempt from him. He understood that in that moment, and from the firsttime he faced life, he felt like he was holding it in his hands. For the firsttime in his life, Risotto’s voice faltered as a low whisper reached your ears, “Ilove you.”

Your smile wasenough to cement his next move.      

[lightdancer1]

Same Prompt Party March-Like a Lion

Hino Rei had never been a normal child, not by anyone’s standards. From the beginning she had looked into fire and seen things. She had seen her mother leaving when she was a very young child, too young to understand the tears or the allegations said against her. She had seen other things, a girl with long pigtails and blonde hair around whom a high doom was built. She had seen the fate that awaited them all, transformed into the immortal avatars of a war against the Great Enemy in the stars. It was a bitter life that Tsukino Usagi had brought them in a way, but it was not the worst of all lives.

She knew that because it had given her a love she’d never anticipated. For all that she had memories, vague and ill-formed, of a relationship with Jadeite in the past, she had clearer ones of Mars and Venus, the cruel and stern warlord of the Senshi and her swaggering moods turning into a surprisingly tender and caring lover in her arms. Mars and Venus were full-grown women of ageless face and longevity that was…..long, if ill-determined in length. Hino Rei was still a girl of sixteen, or she had been.

She was a girl of sixteen, with a long life ahead of her, a very long life if she counted what she became when she took the henshin and spoke those words. Her life had changed from them, she had gone from being Hino Rei, Senator’s daughter, granddaughter of the Miko of one of the most crucial Shinto shrines where the Kami and mortals met in the liminal spaces of the world, to becoming the Senshi of Mars, an immortal being only human by analogy and aspects of appearance.

From seeing the future in fires, she had become an avatar of fire, wielding power named after the planet of War. And that too was subject to misunderstandings. Real war was a thing of chaos that required deep planning, the ability to know in a matter of hours what would need to be done two weeks from where it was done, and the will and the driving force to bring it to pass. She had been named after the God of War, as a Senshi, but people thought of the wrong God. It was not Ares, as the Greeks would have had it, from whom Mars’s Senshi drew their nature. It was Athena, Goddess of Strategy and the cold intellectual sides of war.

And that brought her here. The Outer Senshi had gone to face the new threat that had come here, after all the drama with the Starlights. The real threat, come round at last, revealing herself with the brutal murder of their princess. Uranus had been grief stricken at that sight and had promised Star Fighter that the Outers, the true foe revealed, would offer them vengeance. And then they hadn’t come back.

Now the figure that stood before her and Mina with a detached face and a sword in her hand had strange jewels in a necklace. One had gilded elements but otherwise had a color not unlike that of a kalamata olive (and the implications there made Rei feel nauseous and Mars enraged). There were others, deep violet, bright straw, aqua-green. The being that stood before them looked to her now, with seeming interest and distaste.

“This is not your time to die, Mars.”

Venus looked to her likewise with desperation. Not Aino Minako briefly flashing into Venus’s eyes, the stern and cruel and even vengeful Sailor V, the general who’d ruled by terror in the old days  and yet had power in this one to do that if she willed it.

“Mars, please,” she said, and the soft aura of begging briefly brought her short.

The other one just smiled, coldly.

“Ah, I see what this is. I hope the two of you have had the chances to speak of it. When the other ones died….”

And her eyes tracked something that neither of them could quite see.

“They died with their names on their lips. The aqua-haired one died trying to touch the hand of the golden-haired one, crying her real name.”

And then the golden-armored demon’s face was carved in an imitation of grief that was the more horrid for clearly lacking an understanding of the emotion in any truthful sense.

“Haruka, no!”

Venus’s eyes whipped back to her.

“When they die and I gain their Star-Seeds I gain all kinds of knowledge, including that they did not know they had. You thought Uranus weak, once. Her last couple of thoughts were ‘Venus was right’ and then ‘Michiru’. And that aqua-haired one had only one name in her mind, the one I just spoke. I wonder what I’ll see from yours, Guardian Venus?”

The creature laughed, then, and raised her blade.

Mars and Rei were two different people. One lonely and haunted by the future, the other immortal, a living storm of fire who summoned cleansing fires to banish evil and the dark forces that lurked on worlds and within the stars themselves. Galaxia was not precisely a dark force but the evil within her was crueler than Beryl or even Pharaoh 90. Both were united in one thing. They would not see Venus die in front of them, even if the monster had killed others more powerful than the two of them together in raw power.

“You won’t kill her,” she growled, and there was a lioness’s roar in the words.

Galaxia looked at her with disdain. “I have waged war across the Galaxy, child, Worlds break before me. As with the children of Kinmoku, so with the children of Earth. They all died in my opening strike and only you, the Senshi, remain. And one by one I shall hunt you down and slay you all. It is the way of things. The unworthy die, and I, alone, and worthy, live beneath the weight of the infinite stars.”

Galaxia’s smile took a nastier edge, to a point that Rei would have not been surprised to see those teeth become fangs even though technically they had not.

“You have the signs of a seer, girl. All of you see death at the hands of a terrible swift sword. My sword. So then shall it be.”

“No,” growled Mars again, the lioness’s roar more audible. This was the vision she’d seen in the flames, and it was the point where she vowed not to go gently into that good night, and to rage against the dying of the light. The only thing that mattered was to give Mina a chance to flee. Mina was the true general, the true daughter of war. She could not be more than a delay on the terrible visions of a dark and cruel force manipulating this golden angel of light into serving as its own proxy.

That did not matter.

Fires erupted around her, giving her body an eerie glow. Mars and Hino as one, their souls combined, and for a moment, just a moment, she was Eternal Sailor Mars not just in name but in fact.

“You will not touch her,” she snarled, and then fires erupted outward, slamming with bolts of energy into Galaxia’s armor and she summoned her mandala, which grasped the golden witch’s gauntlets and dragged the blades downward.

The creature smiled, then, stark and cold and cruel, and as she snapped her way clean through the fires as if they were nothing she froze when a blow of stupendous strength launched by Mars struck her chin with an uppercut enhanced by her henshin to make it count more solidly. Part of her hoped that Mako would have approved.

And the monster reeled for a moment, staggered.

She turned to Venus, her eyes gleaming with the hallowed fires within her.

“Run, Venus. I love y-“

Motion, gold glinting illuminated by her fires and a wrenching pain, only for her to summon her flames to strike back along the blade, the purity and the purification lancing against the Chaos-threaded nature of the power within the blade, the corrupted desire for domination and proving greatness against others.

Galaxia groaned for a moment in genuine agony and then she stepped back, as Mars gave her an insolent smile.

Even as she began to fade, she told her “I told you would not touch her.”

Galaxia’s eyes were troubled, as if some deep secret were unveiled and then there was a blissful quietness…..before she awoke in a strange place within the walls of reality and without. Her chest hurt, but here she was. And with her, Hotaru , Mamoru (and her eyes suddenly went very wide as she realized the real truth lurking behind that ‘went to America’ line, and what Usagi must have repressed all along), Haruka, and Michiru. And beyond them all, meditating in quietness, Kakyuu.

Mars sighed then, sinking to her knees. The lioness had roared….and she did not know if it would be enough.

----------

Not long after but far too long for all of them, after the horrors of resurrection in the flesh as a soulless thing and her star-seed watching in horror as the thing that had been her in the flesh had turned on Usagi and at the way that Serenity uncaged dispelled them all with eyes of stark ice as Usagi collapsed and Serenity rose then, and fought the epic duel with Galaxia and then somehow, impossibly, defeated those forces, she was alive again.

Gloriously, blissfully alive.

Her hand held Aino’s, and they were Hino and Aino. Aino’s eyes met hers and there were all those layers and quiet griefs.

“I’m sorry,” Mina began, but she put her finger to her lips.

“No. None of us but Usagi could have done that. All that matters to me is that you got to live, to give that warning.”

Aino’s smile was sad and her hands reached out to caress Rei’s left cheek and her right shoulder.

“My lioness,” she said, acknowledging what she had seen in the desperation of Mars and the way that the Senshi and the human had merged to try to save her.

Those words, the knowledge of what was in them, and the little looks in her eyes led Rei to do a most un-Rei thing and to briefly break, holding her, as both of them let the tears fall that they had not let fall at first when they were resurrected and gloriously, blissfully alive.

It was a warm afternoon in March, both their hands clasped when the tears fell, their bodies close together. The wind, Haruka’s sphere, reached out to ruffle their hair as it did all the Senshi, the wind reminding them that they had been through things together and the old schisms healed in a change between visions of a future that neither wished to think about more.

“In like a lamb, out like a lion,” Mina mused. Normally Rei would have rolled her eyes and corrected Mina’s misspoken use of phrasing, but here there was nothing that meant more than both of them being alive and the feeling of Mina’s body next to hers. They lay on the grass in the park on a blanket together. The long strife was over, and only when the cold came and the hours of destiny called would things change.

Rei let herself smile. The lioness had roared, in the end, and the one she’d wished to save had been safe. Her eyes closed, and she fell into a sleep of warm dreams and the understanding that was there was there, the words unspoken right now, for the actions that had been there had spoken still more loudly.

[dimigex]

21: One kiss limit. Reaper76

Reyes wiped a smear of blood from his mouth and ignored the sting of pain that it brought. He glanced up at the camera in the corner of the room, its red light blinking in a steady rhythm. This wasn’t the first time that Gabriel had been locked in an interrogation room. He peered at the two-way mirror, wondering who stood on the other side. Had the orders to seize him come from Ana, Jack, or someone higher up in the food chain? Gabe didn’t know, and honestly he didn’t care. 

The men who had dragged him here could have come from anywhere. Well, anywhere except Blackwatch. Reyes knew his soldiers as well as he knew himself. He would have been surprised to find that the order came from Jack, despite the man’s seething anger the last time that Gabe had seen him. The soldiers that dragged him from bed had made it clear that they weren’t above excessive force. 

Reyes hadn’t made it easy on them, at least. His right eye had started to swell, reducing his vision by half. The girl that gave him that had gotten lucky with her elbow, mostly because he was surprised to see a female in the squad sent to bring him in. He’d fought with and against both genders and held no illusions that women could be as deadly as men. But, he’d expected the body mass that grabbed him to belong to a male. A comment along those lines had earned him the busted lip as well. 

Running his tongue across the wound, Reyes tasted blood a second time. He focused on the details around him: the coppery tang in his mouth, the blinking red light, the chill of the stainless steel beneath his finger tips. He forced his heartbeat to slow and curved his lips into an unaffected sneer. If they wanted to paint him a villain, he’d be damned if he didn’t give them the performance of a lifetime. 

The door handle jiggled, giving Reyes three seconds of warning. He tensed, considering making a break for it, then relaxed. Whomever had put him here sent six heavies to bring him in, even if he made it through the door, it would be guarded. He would only be playing into their hands to try and run. It would be better to bide his time and see what this farce was about. 

The man that stepped through the door made Gabriel’s heart stumble in his chest. Jack wore the white and blue of Strike Commander, the conforming armor making him seem larger than life. He carried a datapad in one hand but he didn’t glance down at the device, laying it on the table. He didn’t bother looking at Gabriel either, his eyes bored into a spot above his head as the door clicked shut behind him.  

The silence dragged on for several long seconds. Gabriel wondered what the hell he’d done this time. Finally, when no answer was forthcoming, he cleared his throat. “Jack? What’s this–”

“Strike Commander Morrison,” the blond snarled, voice icy steel and disdain. “Try to get at least one thing right, could you?” 

Reyes sneered. So, it was going to be like that was it? He didn’t bother repeating the title of his one time lover. That distinction had caused enough problems already. Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and held his silence. Jack rounded, facing him for the first time. His blue eyes were hard, unreadable. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

“It would be nice to know you want me to say,” Reyes shot back, anger bubbling up too easily. It had been weeks since he’d talked to Jack beyond feigned cordiality. A month or longer since he’d had anything but cold stares and angry distance. Like Gabe were a problem the precious Strike Commander didn’t have time to deal with. Despite his desire to be unaffected, Gabe’s rage bubbled. “Maybe some clue as to why you dragged me here in the first place?” 

Jack’s gaze slid across Gabriel’s face, pausing momentarily on the swollen lip and eye. He shook his head sharply and activated the datapad. The screen behind him lit up with a map of Rialto. Jack scrolled through the images. Headline after headline about the abuse of Overwatch, questions about who watched the watchdog, and power corrupting even the best intents flew across the screen that the words started to blur together. Then came the photographs, pictures from Antonio’s manor, the shattered glass and broken body. Images from Rome, older missions that Reyes had almost forgotten about. 

Jack continued scrolling until Reyes felt an itch between his shoulder blades; he waited for the inevitable dagger. He knew what Jack wanted, what Jack needed, but he couldn’t carry those ghosts. Reyes grinned. “So?” 

The datapad hit the table so hard that the screen cracked and the television images vanished. “Your flippant remarks aren’t going to save you this time. Do you really think you’re above the laws we made?” 

“Yes,” Reyes answered, snorting under his breath. “You’re the one that opted for plausible deniability, not me.” 

Gabriel should have seen the movement, noticed the snap of a coil wound too tight, but his face hitting the table still surprised him. It reopened the flow of blood from his lip, made his eye sting, and knocked the breath from his lungs. He splayed his fingers on the table and pushed himself back. Reyes made himself grin. “Look at that, even Boyscout can get his hands dirty when he’s angry enough.” 

Jack slammed a fist into the table, making it tremble against the bolts holding it to the floor. The sound echoed between them, and his next words were emotionless ice. “You’re going to give me the answers I want, one way or another.”

Without looking at Reyes, Jack walked to the corner of the room and activated the biometric panel. The machine beeped when he placed his palm on it, then leaned closer so it could scan the pattern of his iris. The two way mirror across the room turned black, and the red light on the camera stopped. Reyes started to speak but Jack held up one finger, eyes glued to the analog clock above the door. Then, he nodded. “We have two minutes.“ 

"What the fuck–”

Reyes barely got the words out before Jack was beside him. One hand fell on his shoulder, the other came to brush his cheek. “I’m sorry. I had to make it convincing.”

“Well, you fucking convinced me,” Gabe seethed, jerking away from the touch. “What the hell?" 

Jack withdrew his hand and glanced at the clock a second time. "They won’t tell me what they plan to charge you with. I barely got access; they’re afraid I’m compromised.”

The pieces fell into place with a resounding click. Shit. Gabe tipped his head to look up at the blond. “So, I’ll take the fall, and you’ll keep your pristine reputation." 

"We have one minute left together, and you want to waste it arguing,” Jack grumbled, rolling his eyes. “Ana and I are doing everything we can, but Overwatch doesn’t have the pull it used to.”

Gabriel grunted without answering. The disastrous missions that Jack had thrown in his face were the main reason Overwatch had fallen from grace. Jack reached out a second time. “I didn’t know they planned to take you until it was over.”

Reyes turned away from the almost caress, anger burning his chest. “Don’t act like you care. You’ve hardly looked at me if–" 

"Dammit, you’re all I see,” Jack hissed, hauling Gabe to his feet by the front of his shirt. “Do you have any idea what I risked turning off that monitoring, coming here in the first place? They’re waiting for me to mess up so they can drag all of Overwatch down with you." 

"Then, let it burn.” Gabe growled. He saw the pain flash across Jack’s face and almost felt bad for the sharp words. Almost. 

Jack sighed and scrubbed through his hair. “We don’t have time for this. Just remember, no matter what happens, I’ll get you out." 

Gabe wanted to ask for more information, but irresistible pressure dragged him forward. His chest hit Jack’s, their lips meshed together, and the world spun. He had no idea how long of their two minutes Jack saved for that kiss, but it was worth every bruise on his battered face. 

The hand in Gabe’s shirt shoved him back into the chair seconds almost at the same time as the door opened. Jack picked up the busted datapad and turned away. He nodded toward the stranger. "He’s all yours.”

[mackwritess]

Westwood Road (Part 2)

A/N: I’m back with a second part! This was another commission, I didn’t think people liked the first part enough to want more of these two, but I guess I was wrong! My commissions are still open, with three slots available currently, so if you like what I do feel free to hit me with your own requests!

Summary: It’s been years since the incident on Westwood Road, and the two of them have long since gone their separate ways. But when an opprotunity to be reunited presents itself, will the risks be worth the reward?

Word count: 5.8k

Part 1

He doesn’t know how long he sits in the dark.

For all he knows, the dark is all he’s ever known. He sits there, waiting. Waiting for what exactly, he doesn’t know for sure. He just feels like this is the calm before the storm. Though he feels, upon thinking about it a bit longer, that this is more like the eye of the storm. 

After all, he was just killed by someone he loved. 

No, that doesn’t quite sound right either. He does still love her. He knows he probably shouldn’t, given the way she had just ripped him apart like a rabid animal, but he can’t bring herself to harbor any negative feelings about her. His only regret is not asking how she’d ended up in such a tragic situation. If the tears that streamed down her face as she finished him off were anything to go by, it must have been devastating. 

He continues to just sit there in the all encompassing darkness. He wonders if he’ll ever be reunited with her again. He wonders if he’ll ever get to see her smile again, or hear her voice.

While he’s lost in thought, memories drifting in and out of his mind, he doesn’t notice the way things are beginning to grow brighter around him. He doesn’t notice until the light is near blinding, and he finds himself losing consciousness again. 

~

It’s been years since she did what she did.

She’d convinced herself that she would move on and, in a way, she has. She continues to feed, preying on men and women alike as she sustains herself on their souls. In all this time, none of them had the same effect on her. She was able to do the same process that she had done with him with very little trouble. She was so certain this meant she had moved on.

Deep down she knew she hadn’t. 

Even after all this time, the way he had looked at her before she took his life sits at the back of her mind, coming forward at the worst possible moment without fail. 

Sometimes it comes to her just before she falls asleep, rendering her unable to do so for several hours, if she gets to at all. Other times, it comes when she’s about to feed, when she’s already planning where she’ll go to catch her next one. Suddenly, her prey becomes the predator, looking back at her with his forgiving eyes rather than the terrified ones they’d replaced. She’s taken back to the moment before she committed what she considers to be her greatest sin. Though he wasn’t fully composed, the fear of death as paralyzing as ever, his eyes told a different story. It was one of forgiveness, of acceptance. 

It was one of love. 

Sometimes she wonders if she’ll ever see him again. Perhaps he’d be traveling the world as a spirit, unable to move on from his mortal dwelling. Though she figures he’s likely become an angel by now. Helping others where he can, protecting them from things that may come to harm them. Protecting them from beings like her.

She knows he couldn’t have become something like her. It’s not in his nature.

While he had been able to accept his end, remembering all their moments together with fondness rather than regret, she hadn’t been able to do the same. Instead of remembering any good that had happened between her and the man that had ended her life, she found herself thinking about all the red flags that she had looked past. The way she had ultimately pushed away her friends and family who tried to warn her floated through her mind. She wished she’d listened to them. 

Now she was doomed, her soul tainted with spite and vengefulness. She was to wander the earth, inflicting the same pain tht had been done unto her, only able to survive by causing heartbreak that could rival her own. 

She wonders if the man who killed her had wanted to do the same. Reveling in the damage he had done to her, for fun rather than for survival. She thinks he was her first encounter with a demon. No person could be that evil without corruption. Though she fears she’s become like him.

She wonders if the cycle will ever break. If she’ll ever be free of her curse.

~

When he wakes up again, he’s disoriented.

The room is covered in a blinding white. The white curtains that hang in front of the window move slightly, a light breeze flowing into the room. There’s not a single sound coming from inside or outside of the room. He takes in his minimal surroundings, noting the chair sitting at the edge of the bed. The walls are as bare as the rest of the room, save for a rather intricate painting of clouds that rests near the door. It’s redundant, he thinks. It’s as if whoever was responsible for designing this pace felt it was too plain, but decided any sort of color would disturb the flow of the room. 

He continues scanning the room, searching for something, anything, that could tell him where he is, when there’s a knock at the door. He freezes. Should he be hiding right now? Would making any sounds alert whoever, or whatever was on the other side of the door? 

As if able to sense his apprehensiveness, the door opens slightly. It continues slowly, and he doesn’t dare move an inch. When it does open, he’s met with a young woman. She wears a simple white dress, and carries a clipboard with a few sheets of paper attached to the front of it. 

“There’s no need to be alarmed,” she says. “You’re safe now.”

“Where am I?” He asks immediately. He can’t quite explain it, but her presence soothes him instantly. He finds any worries he has have melted away, and now he only has questions that need answers.

“Heaven, of course. You do know that you’re dead, right?” He nods. “Well, you’re certainly handling this better than most people your age do.”

“I didn’t think heaven would be so… clinical.”

“We’ve tried modernizing the way we welcome new angels.”

“It’s a little…”

“Plain?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s no real reason for that. Just how it is.” He nods again. “Were those all your questions?”

“What’s the clipboard for?”

“Oh! That’s actually what I’m here to go over with you. You see, once you die, the place you end up after assigns a job to you.”

“So we don’t just get to enjoy the afterlife?”

“You do, just as long as you’re on top of assignments. It’s just so we can keep things running smoothly. Gives the people here a purpose.”

“So it’s like having a job.”

“Exactly! Only the payment is living in paradise.”

He considers this for a moment. Everything he’d been told about what Heaven is like has been a little misleading, it would seem. Though, he guesses that angels who visited humans in all the stories he’d heard were just doing their job. He tries not to think too hard about what that implies.

“So how do I choose my job?”

“Oh, you don’t choose. Your assignment is chosen when it’s decided where you’ll go after you die. Easier to get both of those examinations done in one go. Much faster that way.” 

“But what if someone gets a job they aren’t happy with?”

“They learn to be happy with it eventually. Each job is rewarding in its own way.”

“I guess so.”

“You’ll understand more the longer you stay.” The woman clears her throat. “Now then! Let’s talk about your job. Your file says that you tend to go out of your way to help people. You were fairly popular in high school. A shame that you died so young. You really didn’t get to live much of your life.”

“I’d rather not think about that too much.”

“Your manner of death, though, that’s what really interests us.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Oh, this is a great thing. It’s the reason you’re getting the job you’re getting. We’ve been trying to deal with this type of demon for a while now. So many souls, unable to be saved.”

“Why?”

“Well, we don’t really base where you’ll go on your whole life. We base it on your emotions during your final moments. Really says a lot about you as a person. Much more than you realize.”

“So the people who died the way I did? What were they feeling?”

“Rage. Vengeance. Bloodlust. They wanted the person who had betrayed them to pay for what they’d done. They wanted them to suffer as they had.”

“But isn’t that normal? Isn’t it reasonable to be angry that someone you loved would hurt you?”

“Maybe. But forgiveness should follow. That’s what we’ve all been taught. And that’s why you’re the only one who’s been saved.”

“The only one?”

“Understanding. Acceptance. Forgiveness. Those were the last things you felt before your death. We’d never seen that before. More interesting, though, you felt love. You were still under the spell of that demon.”

“A spell?” His voice raises slightly at the mention of her. “She never used any spell on me. I love her.”

The woman eyes him for a moment, mild concern written on her features. 

“You poor boy. One day you’ll be free.”

“From what?”

“Nothing. Now, your job is similar to a guardian angel, albeit a bit more dangerous. You’ll be helping more people free themselves from these demons. Or, at the very least, you can warn them by telling them what will happen if their emotions lean too negatively when the time finally comes.”

“Okay. I think I can do that. But why is it so dangerous?” 

“In doing your job you're essentially taking away a demon’s source of food. Much like a wild animal, this will make them more dangerous. We usually leave a job like this to our more experienced angels, but seeing as you know first hand how these demons work, you should be just fine.”

He’s silent for a moment. He didn’t think there were very many demons who operated the way she did. Certainly not enough to cause such a problem that it would be considered dangerous. His heart hurts at the thought of so many people suffering the way she had. He wonders if there’s a way for him to help the demons themselves as well as their prey. 

“Will I ever find her again?” He opts to ask.

“I doubt that. None of us know her name?”

“What? But-”

“Demon’s names hold power. If someone knows the true name of a demon, then they’re basically owned by that person. They usually go by cover names.”

“And you don’t know hers?”

“No, I do. But you can’t know that information. You could end up going rogue, and we can’t have an asset as valuable as you doing something like that.” 

“Rogue?”

“You know them as fallen angels. You’d essentially become a powerful demon. I’m sure you can understand why we wouldn’t want such a thing.”

“Could a demon become an angel?”

“That’s not possible. Their place was already decided. There is no way for them to rise in status, no matter how much they believe they have redeemed themselves.”

“But that’s-”

“I know. It seems harsh, judging someone based on a single moment. But that’s the way things are here.” 

He’s speechless. He wamts to do this job, that much is for sure. He wants to save people from having everything taken from them the way he had. He’s got all the motive he needs to do the tasks given, not really afraid of the potential danger of this new proffession.

He just wishes there was a way from him to save her.

~

This is probably the worst attempt at feeding she’s had to suffer through in a long time.

It seemed easy enough when she first stumbled across him. A strange man who’d never even been in a relationship. He would be quick work, she’d thought. He’d fall for her in a week, three at the most. That’s what she’d assumed. 

It’s been about four weeks now, and she can’t lure the guy away from his house for long enough to finish the job.

It wouldn’t be as bad, all things considered, if the guys weren't also a total freak. He’s definitely not someone she feels any sympathy for. He’d started pressuring her into sleeping with him a week into the relationship, which would’ve been the first red flag to anyone who knew how to spot them. She’d managed to convince him that she wanted to wait, and he agreed, deciding that her reluctance made her more “worthy” of him when the time came.

She thinks he’s full of shit.

She’s tried everything to lure him away, from telling him that she wanted to take him out to dinner to telling him that she had some sort of surprise for him that needed to happen outside the city. Just her luck she’d find prey that was essentially a hermit. She’d only come across him when he was out buying computer parts. Today, though, she was at her limit. 

It was when he’d berated her for her choice in clothing, a simple tank top and jeans combination, that she’d decided that she’d let his pathetic existence go on for much longer than what was necessary. 

It takes finally giving in to his request of hooking up with her to pull him away from the basement he was living in. She imagines his soul won’t be particularly tasty, but at this point, she’s more worried about having someone like him taking up valuable space on earth than anything else.

She brings him to the outskirts of the city, his greasy hands finding their way all over her body on the way. She can’t wait to be done with him. He’s so focused on trying to make her focus on him that he doesn’t notice the way her eyes flash red with every press to her skin.

She’s so focused on trying not to kill the man right then and there that she doesn’t notice she’s being watched.

~

She managed to convince him that allowing him to tie her up would be a good idea, and he agreed, noticing that the building they’re in is run down, but too concerned with what he thinks is about to happen to interrupt her. 

“C’mon, Miranda, when do we get started? I’ve gotta be back home for this tournament.”

She flinches at the use of her name, or at least what he thinks is her name. Somehow it doesn’t make her feel any less dirty. 

“Oh, you poor soul, you don’t realize the danger you’re in. Not that it matters.”

“What danger? Does this building have asbestos or something? Why would you bring us here, are you really that stupid?”

Her eye twitches at the comment, but she makes the decision to ignore it. He’s the fool here, after all.

“It’s not that you should be worried about, though you’re probably right about the chemicals. This building has been around for centuries. Great place to harvest a soul.” The man lets out a nervous chuckle.

“What are you, like, one of those fake vampire people?” 

“A vampire? You don’t even know enough to know what it is they do? The most explored mythical creature in existence?”

“I don’t need the likes of you telling me what I do and don’t know. Let me go, you’ve ruined the mood. Maybe I’ll let you try again in a week.”

“You still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what? Let me out of here!”

“Ah, you’re another one that doesn’t get it. Frankly, I’ve wasted enough time on you, so I’ll just spell it out for you. I’m a demon and I’m here to consume your soul.” His eyes widen, but he says nothing. She continues. “Ideally I would’ve been done with you a week ago. But you’re such a pathetic waste of a person that I couldn’t even get you out for long enough.”

“So this is what you do? Trick men so you can eat us?”

“Yup. You made the hard part easy, too. You were wrapped around my finger the second I rejected you. Strange behavior, if you ask me.”

“You bitch, you won’t get away with this!”

“You’re not even that original. A misogynist named Kyle? Give me a break”

Her eyes begin to change from their warm brown to a harsh crimson. She opens her mouth, rows of inhumanly sharp teeth appearing seemingly out of nowhere. When she does, she can feel her body begin regaining energy, his soul draining from his body and entering hers. She watches as the life drains from his eyes, growing duller the more of his soul he loses. When the light is gone, she reverts back to her human form, and breathes a sigh of relief.

“Wow, that was exhausting. Never going after one of these types ever again.”

“That’s a good idea. I didn’t like the way he treated you.”

She freezes. It’s happening again. She hasn’t imagined his voice in such a long time. It hasn’t crossed her mind in months. Why now? Why after all this time? 

“I know you’re not real,” She says. “I’m just hearing things again. Go away.”

“Again? So you’ve heard me before?”

“You know I have.”

“How could I know that? I haven’t seen you since the day I lost you.”

“Since you lost me... You don’t talk like that. Where’s the ‘you did this to me’ speech?”

“Turn around. I’m real.”

She’s unconvinced. She knows this is her mind playing a dirty trick on her. A simple rewording of what it usually tells her won’t get her hopes up. Still, she decides to play along. She turns, slowly, like a model on a runway showing off their every angle. She figures that she’s already on the edge of her sanity as it is, and she closes her eyes too, making it a bit of a game. Her turning comes to a stop.

“Alrighty, go ahead and tell me when I can open my eyes. Really make me look even more unhinged than I feel. Let’s have fun with this.”

~

He can’t believe that after all this time, she’s right in front of him.

She’s just as beautiful as he remembered. He’d just watched her consume a soul, a soul which he’d been sent to save, but he can’t find himself feeling anything other than pure joy at the sight of her. He thanks his lucky stars that he was assigned to this case, he was starting to lose hope that he would ever see her again. 

He’s thinking about what she said. She’d been hearing his voice before he found her. Killing him really had taken a toll on her, it would seem. At this realization, he thinks back to what he had been told so long ago.

“Her kind don’t form connections to the people they kill,” the woman says. “They’re heartless creatures. It’s best that you accept that now rather than finding out later.”

“Is it just something that doesn’t happen often? Or is it difficult for them to do it?”

“No. It’s impossible. You really need to let that girl go. She’s out there right now forming the same type of relationship with other people as she did with you. You were nothing but something for her to use.”

“Right. A food source.”

“Exactly. You’ll feel better once you move on. For now, just focus on your work.”

He did exactly that. He’d managed to save many people in the time since he'd begun his job. Luckily, he’s been able to avoid every demon he’s managed to swindle out of a meal. Until now, that is.

This is the first mission he’s ever failed. Surely, he would be questioned about what happened, and he knew he would have to make something up. But seeing the way this particular person acted, especially after he found out it was her he was talking about in such a disrespectful way, he decided he had no qualms about letting him die, taking advantage of his luck so that he could get the answers to his questions. He needed to know if he really should be moving on, or if he should be looking for a cure.

“You can open your eyes. It really is me,” He says. She scoffs.

“You better leave me alone for good after this.” She wastes no time in letting her eyes fly open. When she does, she looks unimpressed. “Oh, you haven’t done this little trick in a while. I suppose you expected me to run forward only for you to turn to dust, right?”

“You can touch me. I’m real. I came to see you.”

“Prove it then. Walk forward. All the way over here to me. I’m just dying to see what you’ll do when you get here.” 

He obeys immediately, making his way over and resisting the urge to run over to keep from alarming her. He stands right in front of her now, and she continues to give him the same unimpressed gaze. She still doesn’t believe what she’s seeing. 

It’s when he makes the bold move to wrap his arms around her that she goes quiet.

~

This isn’t real. It can’t be real. This is just an intense delusion of hers. 

He’s warm, that’s the first thing she takes note of. He’s got a tight hold on her, almost as if he’s afraid that he’ll leave him again. Against her better judgement, she leans into his embrace, taking in his scent.

“You’re real,” she says. “You’re really here.”

“I’m real,” he confirms. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“But why?” She asks. “I’m the reason you ended up this way. You’re supposed to hate me.”

“I could never hate you. Not when I understand why you do what you do. I won’t punish you for doing something out of your control.” 

She finds herself relaxing in his hold. She hasn’t been able to relax in such a long time. It’s not what she was made to do. It’s entirely out of her nature to do such a thing. She’s never been able to stick to her own rules when it comes to him, though. Still, she pushes him away.

“You shouldn’t be here. Not with me. You could get in trouble.”

“You’re worried about me?”

“Of course I am, don’t be ridiculous.”

He seems to consider her words for a moment. 

“I need you to listen to me, okay?” She thinks a moment before nodding. “There’s a way for me to cure you, I know there is, but I need to know that this is what you want.”

“What? That’s not possible.”

“No, there’s a way. I just need time. I’m not gonna let them keep us apart like this. I just need you to trust me.”

She already trusts him, though. She doesn’t need any convincing. She only worries about what will happen to him if he’s caught. 

“You can’t help me. It’s against your rules. You could get in serious trouble.”

“I don’t care. As long as your burden is lifted, I’ll be happy.” She says nothing. “I’m going to get you out of this. But we’ll need to be apart again for some time. Stay safe until that day.”

She doesn’t bother arguing with him. He’s always been this way, setting his mind to something and not stopping until he gets what he wants. It’s a trait of his that she always admired. She’s afraid that this time, it may be his downfall. He’s challenging forces he’s only just begun to understand. 

But she’s tired of them too. She doesn’t care what happens to her, but if this is something that can cause a change, she’ll do it.

“Okay,” she says. “I want this. I trust you.”

He grabs her by the waist and pulls her close to him again, planting a gentle kiss on her forehead, before backing away again. 

“I’ll see you soon. I promise.” With the flash of a bright light, he disappears, leaving her alone with nothing but her thoughts, and the shell of the soul she had eaten.

For the first time since she lost him, she breaks down.

~

When he returns home, the first thing he does is report what happened to him.

Not all of it, of course, he can’t mention that he’d finally found her. That would only anger them. They would likely restrict his activities, making his mission more difficult than it likely already will be. The people in charge tell him that because of his great work in other cases, one failed case was nothing to worry about, so he could just go about his day until he received his next assignment. 

While he waited, he went to visit the person who would help him to do what he needed to do. He knocks lightly on the door, and upon hearing the quiet “come in” on the other side of the door, he lets himself in

“Oh, it’s you again. Don’t tell me you’re here to find more ways around the curse.” The woman says.

After being here for several years now, he’s met tons of people. Though, he’s never bonded with someone the way he has with Kora, an elderly woman whose death came to her in her sleep. In her life she had been a witch doctor, dabbling in spells that could transform things into different objects, cause misfortune for others, and yes, lift curses. 

“I don’t need to do that.”

“Sure,” Kora says. “I just made tea, come have some.”

He sits down at her kitchen table, and she turns to pour him a cup, placing it in front of him before pouring one for herself and taking a seat. 

“I really don’t need to find a way around the curse, Kora. I found her today. She wants to do this.”

Kora looks up at him, expecting him to tell her he was just joking. But when she sees the way his eyes sparkle, unbridled hope written in them, she knows he’s serious. She lets out a sigh.

“Well, I did say I’d help you. I’m a woman of my word.” He smiles. “But you’re risking a lot here. If it doesn’t work, you could risk everything. Not just for you, but for both of you.”

“That’s fine. Whatever it is, we can handle it.”

“So, it’s not the procedure that takes much effort. It’s the aftermath. The main step is finding the man who killed her, in order for her vengeance to be achieved. Lucky for you, he’s still alive.”

“Sounds easy enough. It didn’t take much for her to tear me up,” he says with a chuckle.

“However, once she does this, she’ll be reborn. This would separate the two of you, leaving you behind to deal with the consequences, on top of defeating the purpose of you doing this.”

“I can’t accept us getting separated from each other. Not again.”

“There is a way for the two of you to be reborn together. But it is difficult. You’ll have to have bonded to her. Seeing as she’s a demon, the only way for you to do that is for you to get her name.”

“She didn’t even tell me that when we were alive.”

“That’s what I’m worried about. In the end, will she have trusted you enough to give you this information? Will she love you enough to make herself so vulnerable?” He says nothing. “Even so, there’s no guarantee that in your next life the two of you will meet. That will also depend on how strong your bond is. You could end up in entirely different countries, even.”

He thinks about this. Now that he knows what will be required, he’s hit with the weight of what exactly it is he’s risking here. If he’s unsuccessful, he'll have to face the wrath of the angels he’d betrayed. If he succeeds, he doesn’t even know if he’ll get the result he’s really after.

But then he thinks of her. No matter the outcome, she’ll be freed from her curse. She’ll get to live the life she didn’t get to before. More than his desire to be with her, he wants her to have the life she deserves.

“I’ll do it. I don’t care about the risks. I’m going to do it.” Kora sighs.

“Alright, then. I’ll tell you where the man is, but the rest is up to you.” He rises from his seat and makes his way over to her, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“I’ll be okay, Kora. Everything will be fine.”

He makes his way out of her home after talking a bit more with her. He knows that regardless of what happens, he won’t see her again after this. 

She watches him leave, and for his sake, she hopes that if she is to hear about him again, it won’t be a story of a young man who risked everything for the wrong person.

~

When they arrive at their destination, she feels a chill run up her spine.

It’s late. They wanted to be certain that no one would be around when they did what they came to do. Things would be less messy that way.

“He’s in a church?” He asks, confused. She rolls her eyes.

“I expect nothing less from him. He always did hide behind a facade. This is the best one yet.”

The two of them head in, and hide amongst a few churchgoers that linger inside. She assumes that there was a late night church service being held here. They must’ve come at the end, and she’s thankful. The thought of having to actually listen to him pretend to be a good man makes her sick to her stomach. 

They linger until the church is empty, and she sees him head to the back, leading to the basement that she knows all too well. She grabs his hand and leads him in that direction, bringing him to the door that leads deeper into the church.

“Are you sure you’re ready to face him again?’

“I’m sure. It’s about time I see him again. This is long overdue.” Her eyes flash red for a moment, and he decides to stop asking questions.

She pushes the door open, and makes her way down the stairs with him following close behind her. She sees the man at the back of the room, rifling through boxes, and wastes no time in letting him know she’s here.

“Well, well, well.” The man freezes. “Been a while since we were down here, huh? Sure brings back memories, doesn’t it?”

“You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re not real,” the man mutters to himself.

“Oh, so you do feel guilty about what you did to me? Could’ve fooled me. Your little holy man cosplay is quite interesting.”

“Why are you here?”

“Look me in the eye, coward.” Afraid of provoking her, he turns to face her, slowly. “Much better.”

“How are you here? What are you?”

“This question gets more annoying the more i hear it, you know. Figure it out yourself, holy man.”

“What do you want from me? Please go away.”

“Oh no. Not yet. See him?” she points to where he stands, standing a little distance behind her. “I want you to tell him what you did to me.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Tell him why you thought my life needed to end.”

“I had to. You know what would have happened.” the man turns to him. “She knew what she was doing.”

“You didn’t have to do anything.”

“They would have disowned me!”

“So a little premarital sex is an issue, but murder is cool? Got it. Anything to keep your dirty little secret, right?”

The room is silent. Now that the truth is out there, now that he knows what happened to her, he understands why no one knows her name. 

“I guess I should’ve expected this, right?” She continues, “After getting involved with the preacher’s son? And you got to go on, right? Continued living? Taking up after your dad? And what did I get? Cursed. Dooming people to the same fate you forced me into. But today, that changes.”

“You dare to claim that what I did wasn’t justified? You wanted to ruin me!”

“I wanted to be with you. In public. I didn’t wanna be a secret.”

“You convinced me to commit a sin. You haven’t earned the right to love, I could’ve been great. Instead, I’m stuck in this town, in the middle of nowhere, trying to make up for something that you did.”

“You did this to yourself.” she says. Her eyes quickly change to that harsh red he had seen before, and he knows what’s about to happen before the man does. “I don’t need to prove my worth. To you, or to anyone. You were nothing in life, and now, you’ll be nothing in death.”

Before he can even get a word in, she’s latched onto him, ripping him apart in the very same room where her existence was cut short.

~

A few moments of silence go by before she begins to glow slightly. 

“It’s happening. I did it, I broke the curse.”

“You did. You’re free now.”

“But what about you? Why aren’t you glowing too?”

“We haven’t bonded enough. It’s okay though, I wouldn’t have wanted you forced into doing something. You’ve been through enough.”

“No! No, tell me. I’ll do it.” He knows she won’t, but she won’t remember him when she’s reborn anyway.

“I needed your name.”

She looks at him. She’s so close, so close to being free from that person. She can’t be bound to her again. She can’t say her name. 

Taking note of her silence, He grabs the sides of the face, and pulls her in for a kiss, putting everything he has into it, as he knows it’ll be the last time. He whispers an “I love you” before looking her in the eyes to be sure she knows.

It’s at this moment, as her glow is becoming blinding, that she realizes this is a decision she can make herself. Finally, she’s the one who gets to make a choice. Instead of misery, this time, she chooses happiness. She just hopes it isn’t too late.

“My real name is..”

~

Somewhere, in another part of the world, a baby girl is born to a family that had been trying to conceive a child for years. They know this is the most precious gift they’ll ever receive.

Minutes later, in that same hospital, a baby boy is born.