#ana’s tumbles | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notmyneighbor · 5 months

Text

A New Neighbor - Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 2

Word Count - 5k

Rating - Explicit

CW - cheating, touching, oral sex

Also available on AO3

taglist - @kaislashes @unicorngirly1 @charli33-b33 @natiii727227

3:57AM

Francis’ body is programmed to wake up early no matter what day of the week it is. He’s done this delivery job for so many years, it’s ingrained in his system. There is no sleeping in, even on the weekends. One of the reasons Nacha sleeps on the couch some nights, or vice versa.

Last night it had been his turn to have the bed to himself. He stretches and rubs his eyes, his energy picking up when he realizes it’s the day he’s promised to pick you up after school. Nacha is off today. He won’t have to worry about anyone watching Anastacha.

The milkman showers and shaves, making sure his skin is extra smooth before splashing on aftershave. Did you like it? He’d have to ask. He doesn’t really know what you prefer.

Well. He was starting to get some idea.

He tries to be quiet getting the coffee pot going, and of course he fails, the ceramic mug nearly tumbling over when he sets it on the kitchen counter too hastily.

“Francis.” Nacha’s reprimanding voice issuing from the living room sounds drowsy.

“Sorry. Go back to sleep. I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Did you change the time on the alarm?” She sounds more alert now.

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna go lie down in bed until it’s time to get Ana ready.”

“Okay.”

His girlfriend barely spares him a glance before padding down the hallway to the master bedroom. The coffee is ready to pour and he lifts the glass carafe from the burner, filling the mug three quarters of the way full, then stirring in cream and sugar, noting they’re running low on both. He removes the pen from his shirt pocket that he uses for the deliveries (marking off addresses, payments, signatures, that sort of thing) and uses it now to add to the growing list of necessary items affixed to the fridge with a magnet. The pair took turns doing the shopping. Sometimes he’d pick up random items they needed on the way home. Sometimes Anastacha liked to come along on a Saturday morning. It really all depended on how the week was progressing.

Francis emerges from the apartment shortly after, pleasantly surprised to find the weather is mild when he steps outdoors. A sign of an early spring, perhaps. He’s got gloves tucked into his jacket pocket, but it seems he might not need either today. By the time he’s delivered to a few houses, he finds himself warming up sufficiently even without the aid of the dairy truck’s heater.

You’re in his thoughts throughout the day, and not all of it is sexual in nature this time.

Surprising what his mind chooses to focus on. That little moment at the end of your last encounter when he’d taught you the special knock. Sharing that secret with you made him feel…something. It’s too early to say what it is yet.

For once he’s grateful for the busy assignment, making the time pass more quickly once he’s loaded up the truck. He’s working extra efficiently this morning, despite the early hour. Normally he’s sluggish and reluctant at the start of the shift, his body protesting in spite of its acknowledgment of the routine. This new nervous energy you imbued him with, though, changes everything. He wants to make sure he’s at your school promptly on your agreed upon time.

The weather is so nice he stops for lunch at a local park. It’s a weekday, so it’s not too crowded. Mainly young children using the playground, accompanied by their mothers. He should bring Ana here soon. Maybe he’ll invite you along, too.

He finishes his route with time to spare, pulling up near the front entrance of the high school you attend. That’s when his palms start to get a little damp, his left foot twitching nervously. The likelihood of running into anyone he knows here is slim, but not impossible. The school isn’t on his route. He doesn’t really have a valid excuse to account for his presence here if anyone asked.

No one does. The minutes slip by. You’re there. Pushing through the glass front doors, squinting against the glare of the sun. He can see your smile even from here. Brighter than that celestial body in the sky. Your cardigan is tied around your waist. You’re carrying some books, clutched against your chest. A casual walk that quickens suddenly, impatient to see him.

“Hi,” you greet him through the open door.

He suddenly realizes the problem with this plan. The truck only has a seat for the driver. It isn’t meant to host passengers.

“Hi. How was school?”

“Good.” You adjust the strap of the bag on your shoulder. “Where do I, um…”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, so. About that. I guess I wasn’t thinking…I can grab one of empty crates from the back and sit on that? Sorry.”

“No problem. I don’t mind.”

He lends you a hand to help you enter the vehicle. He’s used to the high step, but it’s a little more challenging for you. Your hand clings to his tightly, even after you’ve safely made it inside.

“Hi,” you say again, but this is a different kind of greeting. Softer. Your eyelids dip languidly. He wants nothing more than to grab you and kiss you right then, but it’s too public here. Even seen doing this is still risky.

“We should go somewhere less…exposed, you know?”

“Okay.” You watch him move one of the aforementioned crates and drag it near his seat, then unknot and set your cardigan down on top of it before sitting, your bag and books tucked next to your makeshift seat on the floor.

“All set?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s go.”

It takes a few minutes to leave the city proper, traveling into the suburbs. The truck is not the smoothest of rides; he’s always forced to make sure the glass bottles are secured properly before he makes his deliveries. It jostles you now, and he lets one hand drop down for you to hold.

“I don’t really know where to go,” he admits once he reaches the outskirts of the densely populated residential area. It’s farm country out here. Lots of open fields. Orchards.

“There’s…there’s a house people go to. Kids at my school talk about it. It’s abandoned. A place to, you know…”

“That doesn’t seem particularly safe nowadays with the doppels running loose. But I suppose horniness overrides caution,” he remarks wryly. “You shouldn’t go anywhere alone, though,” he adds, his smile fading.

“Oh! That reminds me. We didn’t do the secret knock.”

He’d completely forgotten, too. Not that he has any doubts you’re really you.

He eases off the road, parking the truck in the dirt. “Okay. We’ll do it now.”

You stand, stretching gratefully from your awkward position. His fingers tap out the melody on the dashboard that’s in desperate need of dusting, leaving fingerprints behind as he goes. You make your own set beside his. Your fingers are so much smaller and thinner than his. Elegant. It’s no wonder you play piano.

“What would you do if I was a doppelgänger?” You pull his cap off and toss it onto the shelf above the steering wheel.

“Let you eat me and die happy.”

“Francis!”

He snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you closer. Your fingers card through his thick chocolate colored tresses. He buries his face against your shirt, inhaling your fragrance. You remain like that for a few minutes, just holding each other. It’s so quiet out here. He’s used to the noises of the city, the sounds of the traffic and people. Even at night it’s still busy. It never really slumbers.

But here it’s different. Peaceful. He likes the feel of your fingers combing through his hair. Soothing, being pressed against you like this. Warm. The sun pours through the windows, bathing skin in golden light. Your body is so soft. This is another moment he knows he’s going to savor again later in his memories.

Eventually he eases back, his eyes meeting yours. “Want to come for a walk?”

You nod. He helps you down from the truck. Your hand slips into his. The dead weeds from the previous season aren’t difficult to navigate. It’s easy to traverse the field, leaving the truck and the road and the entire world behind.

“My dad said you’re engaged,” you murmur, disrupting the comfortable silence. Francis halts and you stop beside him. “But Nacha doesn’t wear a ring.”

“We’re not really engaged,” he says. He sighs heavily. “We should probably talk about my situation. You deserve to know the truth.”

“Okay.”

“Sit with me.”

He eases down into what looks like a softer, more cushioned patch of ground, clustered with wild grass and you settle beside him, tucking your skirt beneath you.

“When I was younger,” he begins, then sighs again. “I’m just going to tell you straight. You’re an adult. I mean. Basically.” He pulls at one of the longer blades of grass and begins wrapping it and unwrapping it around his index finger. “We made a mistake. We just wanted to fool around, have some fun. And we weren’t careful. And Nacha got pregnant. It wasn’t planned. We weren’t even dating, really. I know it takes two and all that. We both had an equal share of blame. I couldn’t just let her bear the burden while I got off Scott free. So we decided to throw our lots in together, see if we couldn’t make something come of it anyway. We told people we were going to get married to cover up for what really happened.”

He drops the piece of grass. “Nothing really came of it. We have Ana, and of course we both love her. But we weren’t ready for any of this. We’re basically roommates. Two people occupying the same space linked by this one little person. We make each other crazy, sometimes. We’re so different. I’m glad she’s getting out of the house, now. She deserves to be happy.”

“You deserve to be happy, too,” you comment gently, your first words since his own had poured forth.

“I’ve kept all this bottled up inside me for so long. We keep to ourselves. We don’t really have friends. All I do is work. I feel trapped. Suffocated. I want…I want something more.” It’s a relief to finally give voice to the thoughts and feelings that have been plaguing him. It’s easy to talk to you. There’s no harsh judgment in your gaze. All he feels radiating from that look is understanding.

“I’ve been my dad’s whole world for as long as I can remember. He’s always been good to me. Maybe too protective, sometimes. But I want him to be happy, too. I wish he’d find someone.” You reach for the milkman’s hand. “Maybe sometimes it’s good to take risks. To be reckless. Are you really living if you spend your entire existence trapped in some bubble?”

He covers your hand with his other one, clutching yours between them. “But you’re safer that way. You don’t want to make the same mistake I did and rush things. You’re young, you have such a bright future ahead of you. Enjoy your life. Your dad said you’re a great student. Do something with that. Go to college. Have a career. The other stuff can wait for later.” It sounds like he’s pushing you away. Maybe part of him is. The decent part that’s still there, buried beneath the lust, fresh spring flowers poking through the soil, carefully emerging.

You study his face for a few moments. “We’re both trapped, just in different ways. I think you’re a good person, Francis Mosses, that got stuck in a very unfortunate situation.”

“Would a good person do this?” He leans over to capture your lips. Instant heat. The carnal desires are overriding morals again.

“Yes,” you whisper, pulling your hand free from the trap he’s created between his, now using it to cradle his cheek.

“I thought about you all day,” he admits. “I can’t stop, no matter how hard I try. Everything reminds me of you. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. This longing, this ache…” Francis kisses you again, leaning now with his whole body, pushing you down beneath him. “You should be somewhere better than this. I don’t know where to bring you, where it’s safe…”

“I don’t care. This is fine. It’s good…” Your head lifts to capture his lips. He doesn’t know why he’s stalling all of a sudden. There’s no one around for miles. He wants you. You’re willing. Why had his conscience chosen now, of all times, to interfere?

“I don’t want to ruin someone else’s life. You deserve better.”

“You’re what I want. Touch me, Francis. I want to feel your hands on me.”

His cock lurches at your words, struggling against its confinement, and the hesitation shatters. He balances his weight on his knees and one forearm, the free one lifting to begin undoing the buttons of your blouse. Plain cotton brassiere today, but he’s not disappointed. He bends to kiss you between your breasts, peppering your flesh with tiny little pecks. He manages to unfasten the hooks on the back of the lingerie covering your bosom on the first try, his lips quickly moving to suck one nipple into his mouth.

A hum of pleasure escapes you. His tongue rolls around the hardening rosy tissue until it resembles a pencil eraser. He pulls lightly with his teeth and repeats the process for its partner. The fantasy of seeing you covered in milk presents itself against. Spilling naturally or poured over. Either way he’d sup gladly.

His kisses trail down your abdomen, his fingers already fumbling for the hem of your skirt. Another serviceable piece of underwear barring him from what he desires, quickly tugged down while he’s kneeling beside you. There will be dirt and grass stains on his uniform that he’ll have to explain later. For now, he doesn’t care. His goal is in sight. That dewy pink flesh he’s been craving a taste of. Your legs are still held fairly close together, residual shyness keeping them that way until he parts them. He licks the inside of one thigh and you whimper.

Then his face is between your legs, his body burrowing against the ground to find a comfortable position as he takes his first taste of your pussy.

Francis moans. Everything he’d expected and yet somehow not. Even better. Had he thought the taste of your mouth was ambrosia? This, this went beyond heavenly. He flicks his tongue across your bud and you shiver. He wants you to cum in his mouth. He’s going to make you.

He keeps one hand at the top of your mound, pulling that swelling bundle taut against the hood and licking it over and over, short, rapid strokes alternating with slower caresses. He kisses your thighs when he feels you shaking too much, getting too close, too soon. He doesn’t want you to find release just yet. It’s the best meal he’s ever had and he doesn’t want it to end.

His mouth clamps on that pretty pink pussy and you moan again, your fingers burying themselves in his hair. He spends some time lapping at the leaking hole he can’t wait to penetrate, sucking your lips, gathering as much of your taste as he can. Your clit has swelled even further, begging for attention he’s only too happy to give it. He doesn’t hold back now, relentlessly licking and sucking until you’re writhing beneath him, grinding against his face, your fingers pulling his hair painfully, straining the roots buried in his scalp as you explode in a noisy, shuddering wet mess.

Francis recognizes the moment when it shifts from being too little to perfect to too much, your body switching into hypersensitivity and he eases his mouth from you. He can feel your juices coating his lips and chin as he changes positions, climbing and dropping down next to you.

Your head lolls to the side to regard him, still in that post orgasmic bliss phase, no doubt. After you recover your body turns until it presses against the milkman, tucked against his side, his arm coming around to hug you. Your face lifts to find his and you kiss him. “Is that what I taste like?”

“You’re delicious. You’ve never tried to taste it?” You shake your head. “Do you ever touch yourself?”

“Sometimes. Not often. I don’t try unless I’m home alone.”

“When was the last time you did?”

“Yesterday.”

“Did you think about us?”

“Yes.”

He hums a little moan at this admission of depravity as your mouth returns to his. You reach for the front of his pants now, where his erection is pressing painfully, begging for escape, lightly massaging the tented fabric where it feels as if all of his blood is pooling, every nerve ending extra sensitive and pleading for more direct contact. He assists you in opening the fly, letting you have the honor of dragging his turgid member free. He savors the little gasp you make, as if you’ve forgotten how large he is, how truly hard you make him.

“Show me how to do it.”

The older man loves the way you murmur this request, your voice sultry and sandpaper rough from lust. He loves that you’re inexperienced, that you haven’t been sullied by some fumbling teenage boy. He guides your hand towards the base, curling your fingers around his phallus. He squeezes where he wants you to apply more pressure, his touch lightening where he needs less. Guiding those delicate digits over the tip, sliding over the dewy opening, caressing the sensitive spot underneath where the curves meet, that silky soft patch of skin. No touch you could give him would ever feel wrong, but he enjoys showing you nonetheless, your hands working together to bring him pleasure until he lets you take the reins.

“Is it good?”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” He’s admiring the view of your still unbuttoned blouse, the way the sun touches the curves, sets the highlights of your hair aflame. An angel, you’re absolutely heaven sent, that delicate hand working so beautifully over his cock, making his hips quiver and jerk every time you slide through the slick leaking over the head. “You’re going to make me cum, baby girl.” He cups one of your breasts, flicking his thumb over the nipple, his teeth catching his bottom lip as he groans and spills seed over your pumping hand. You don’t miss a beat, stroking through his entire orgasm, until his senses are overloaded and he grabs your wrist to halt you.

You rest beside him again, exchanging soft kisses. His eyes fall on his wristwatch and he sighs regretfully. He should be getting back. He needed to get you home. He still has to account for the condition of his clothes. A few unexpected deliveries and a delayed yearbook committee meeting are excuses for tardiness that can only be stretched so far.

You’re solemn after he tells you this, quiet on the walk back across the field. Reality just setting in. This was all he could offer you. Stolen moments blanketed by lies and deception.

Francis backs you up against the truck and kisses you roughly. He’s not happy about the circumstances either. His hands muss the hair you’d smoothed out moments before.

“I don’t want to share you.”

His mouth pulls from yours, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re not sharing me, angel. I’m yours.”

“I don’t want her touching you.”

He cups your face between his hands. “It’s not like that between us anymore. You are all I want.” He’s not about to admit what happened after you’d come over for dinner that night. He’d been thinking of you the entire time anyway. That basically cancelled it out, right? “We don’t even sleep in the same room most of the time.”

You nod. Your fingers knot in his shirt. He presses his lips against your forehead before helping you back into the truck. He kisses you again before starting the engine, and again before he shifts gears. If the doorman thinks anything of the two of you entering the building at the same time, he doesn’t reveal it. The DDD guard still gives Francis that same distrustful look even though he’d remembered to present all of his documents this time. The milkman doesn’t bother to offer a smile.

He waits for you by the elevator, grateful no one else is around. The last kiss he steals is inside the carriage. He watches you exit onto the second floor and it’s all he can do not to chase after you.

Nacha doesn’t comment much when he offers his excuses, the latest fabrication he’s concocted one about stopping to change a tire, explaining the state of his clothes. He showers and you’re in his thoughts again and he wants you, the sudden impulse making him feel he’s on fire all over again.

His girlfriend watches him pick through dinner that evening, the fork securing and releasing a morsel of food repeatedly as he moves it around the plate aimlessly. Ana has already finished hers, playing some imaginary game with a pair of dolls in the living room while her mother carries the empty plates to the sink, glancing at Francis.

“Is something wrong with the food?”

“Hmmm? Oh, no. It’s fine. I guess I’m not hungry tonight.” His blurry gaze focuses on the gray and green orbs peering at him, that unusual mixture of two different colored irises suddenly making him feel like he’s been caught already.

“I’ve never seen you turn down a meal before.” It’s true. He normally consumed things as if he was a condemned man on death row savoring his last meal.

“It was a long day. The schedule is really tiring.”

“This was supposed to be your short day.”

“I know, but then they added more deliveries, and the tire change didn’t help things any.” He pauses. There’s another excuse he’s been thinking of, another reason to be away from home more. “I was thinking of joining Angus and the guys at the bowling alley.” Angus was one of their neighbors, a bachelor salesman. Several of the men in the building belonged to the local league. He wasn’t about to join up, but he supposes he could put in an appearance every now and again, leaving the rest of the time for dalliances with you.

“You hate socializing. And since when do you like bowling?” She folds her arms under her breasts.

He shrugs. “I just think it would be good to get out of the house sometimes for something other than work.”

“I agree with you about that. You definitely need something. You’ve been very distracted lately.”

“Sorry.”

“Well, just make sure it all coordinates with the babysitter’s schedule. Speaking of which, we’re due to pay her. It’s the end of the week. I’ll go run it downstairs.”

“I’ll do it,” he says hastily, the chair dragging across the linoleum harshly as he rises to his feet. She was giving him a reason to see you again.

“Are you sure? You look dead on your feet. I don’t mind, I’ve been home all day.”

“Nah, it’s fine. Maybe I’ll ask the professor if he wants to come along to the alley one of these nights.”

“You’re really getting along well, aren’t you?”

“He’s a good guy.” Unlike himself. Seducing his daughter.

“We can have them over for dinner again, if you want. Ana is so enamored with the sitter.”

“Yeah, she’s uh…she’s great.” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I’m going to head over now. Back in a bit. Just um, just put this…”

“I’ll save it for later.” She accepts the plate he hands her.

The milkman pauses in the living room to explain where he’s going and his daughter’s face brightens. “Can I come too?”

“Uh, no, baby. Not this time. I’m just dropping off her payment.”

“But I wanna see what her house is like,” the child replies, pouting.

“Another time, I promise. Gotta talk to her dad. Boring stuff. You stay here and watch over mom until I get back.”

“Okaaay.” She draws out the middle vowel sound, still not happy but accepting his terms.

“We’ll play some dolls when I get back, if you want.” Ana loved it when he did the voices, the imitation higher pitched feminine tones often sending her into fits of giggles.

“Promise?” She looks hopeful again.

“Yes, I promise.”

***

Francis always feels guilty going over someone’s house uninvited.

He knows he has a valid reason for the unexpected visit, but the principle remains the same. He knocks and waits, hearing muffled voices within, and then you answer the door.

“Francis,” you murmur softly. “What are you…”

“I brought your payment. And I was going to talk to your dad real quick.”

You pull the door open wider, granting him admittance. The college instructor is sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by books and papers. “Francis, come in! Sorry for the mess. I miss having an office at home,” he says ruefully. “But, the trade off of a safer living environment is worth it. Right, honey?”

You nod, your gaze alternating between the two men.

The milkman clears his throat. “I don’t mean to bother you. I won’t be staying long. I just wanted to drop payment off for your daughter, and to ask if you’d be interested in joining some of the men in the building at the bowling alley one of these nights. I’m not particularly competitive, but I think it would be good to get out of the house.” He’s looking at you through most of the discourse, hoping you realize why he’s really making this offer.

Your father scratches his chin thoughtfully. “Bowling, huh? It’s been years for me. But you know what? I just might take you up on that one of these nights.”

“Nacha also wanted me to invite you over for dinner again.”

“It’s our turn to host, I think. That sounds like a solid idea as well.”

“Great, we can iron out the details later.” He’s got cash in his hand, the bills still curled tightly into his palm. His last excuse for being here.

“I um…I think I left one of my notebooks at Francis’ apartment,” you say quickly as he presses the money into your hand, his fingers dragging against yours.

“Well, you can get it later, surely? It’s the weekend. I’m sure Francis would like to rest now. I don’t know how you delivery drivers do it, being up so early.”

“You get used to it. I don’t mind,” he adds. “I’ll walk her there and back again.”

“That’s kind of you. I appreciate it.”

“Have a good rest of your evening.”

You exit the apartment, following him past the elevator and into the nearby stairwell.

The door shuts with a heavy clang and he pauses just long enough to make certain there are no footsteps on the stairs before he shoves you against the wall, planting furious kisses all over your face.

“Do you know why I asked your father…”

“Yes. But you’ll have to actually go sometimes, just to…”

“I know.” His teeth nip your bottom lip. “I want you.”

“Francis…”

“I need you,” he says, the words slightly muffled as his lips touch the arch of your throat. “When can I see you again? I can’t wait until Monday. I can’t.”

“I have piano lessons tomorrow.”

“I’ll pick you up from there. Turn around.”

You obey, facing the wall. He bends and grabs the hem of your skirt, then reaches for your panties, dragging them over one cheek of your buttocks. “Come to the park with me and Ana Sunday.” He shoves your hair to one side, his tongue tracing the curve of your ear.

“Okay.”

“You make me crazy.” It has only been hours since he’s been intimate with you and already he’s feeling a desperate urge as he ruts against that exposed globe of flesh, his harsh breathing echoing in the stairwell. Your palm slaps out against the wall and he covers it with his own. “Touch yourself and think about me tonight.” His teeth sink into your shoulder through the fabric of your blouse.

Footsteps and voices below. Francis hurriedly fixes your clothing, stepping back from you. He escorts you back to your door as promised, then it dawns on him that you’d never actually searched for your missing notebook.

“Did you really forget your notebook at my place?”

“No, it was just an excuse to get out.”

“What are you going to tell your father when you show up empty handed?”

“I’ll say I must have left in my locker at school by mistake.“

“I’m making you lie so much already.” A tinge of remorse and regret until he tastes your lips again. Risky, so risky, doing this in front of your apartment. Out in the open, where anyone could see.

“What choice do we have?”

He considers. He’s no stranger to it. He’s been lying for years, he and Nacha, pretending they were a couple, engaged, in love. And now he has to lie to have you. He can’t give you up. He just can’t.

“None. Tell me the address I’m meeting you at tomorrow. And the time to be there.”

You do so, then frown. “What if you can’t get away?”

“I’ll be there,” he says again, firmly. “No matter what. You forgot to do the secret knock again,” he murmurs, his fingers drumming lightly on your cheek. You repeat the gesture on his. “Goodnight. Don’t forget what I said earlier.”

One more brief kiss and then he forces himself to return to the stairwell.

He needs the extra time to calm down.

#francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman x reader #milkman x you #francis mosses #milkman #thats not my neighbor #the milkman #that’s not my neighbor #tnmn smut #tnmn fanfic #tnmn francis mosses #divider @cafekitsune

293 notes · View notes

cambion-companion · 2 years

Note

Saw the piggyback ask and I remembered this scene in fifty shades where Christian is carrying Ana over his shoulder and they pass one of the house employees on the way to the 'playroom'...

And now I'm thinking of Aemond doing that with his wife - not because she's drunk, she was extra bratty (on purpose) so he just slung her over his shoulder and now he's taking her to their chambers to teach her a little lesson🤭

Alicent and Criston Cole appear from around the corner just in time to catch a glimpse of Aemond entering your chambers with you over his shoulder and there's this brief moment where you make eye contact with your mother-in-law who knows full well her son is going to rail you in about two minutes...

Gods be good🤣

hahaha I absolutely adore both of these ideas guys!

Prepare for another drabble!

“You looked for Aegon where?” You closed the book you had been reading, placing it upon your knee, looking up at Aemond’s disheveled appearance.

“The brothel, The Blooming Rose, as it were.” Aemond removed his cloak, hanging it by the oaken door before turning back to where you sat. “He took me there when I was thirteen.” He hesitated. “The…madam recognized me.”

The discomfort in your husband’s voice caused you to rise to your feet, the forgotten book tumbling to the ground. “Was she indeed?”

Aemond’s violet eye looked everywhere but into your face. “She seemed pleased to see me.”

His hands clenched at his sides, you reached forward but he shied away from your touch, turning away, his posture rigid.

“I’ll be back.” You said, striding with purpose to the door, yanking it open and making your way down the corridor.

Your blood was boiling, the expression on Aemond’s face had caused your heart to clench.

“Y/N, wait!” Aemond caught your elbow, spinning you to face him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to have some words with this Madam of the Blooming Rose.” You pried yourself free of his grip, walking away from him once more.

“No, you’re not.” Aemond touched your waist as he kept pace with you, watching your fury unfold with something akin to awe. “You will not put yourself willfully in harm’s way.”

“I am harm and she is in my way.” With each step, you became angrier, the image of your husband’s fear fresh in your mind’s eye.

“Wife.” Aemond stopped you once again, his fingers locking securely around your wrist. “Charging into a brothel with the intent to cause chaos is not something I will allow you to do.”

“Allow me?” You seethed, trying to yank your hand away from his iron grasp. “Just try and stop me!”

You freed yourself, only for Aemond to grab you roughly around your waist, lifting you up and over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

You hit his back with your hands. “Let me down you ruffian!”

“I’m the ruffian?” Aemond chuckled and your attempts to get down, his hands probing mischievously against your skirts. “You’re the aspiring assassin, storming off to do gods know what with no plan or backup. Now stay still.”

You did not obey, squirming atop Aemond’s shoulder, causing him to grunt and almost lose his footing more than once as he carried you back down the empty hallway. He smacked your backside sharply after one particularly strong bout of flailing.

You gasped at the impact, stilling momentarily in your shock. “Did you just-?”

“Yes, and I will do it again if you don’t stop.”

“How dare you?”

“That’s right, direct your anger towards me instead. The better to keep you safe.”

You ceased your wiggling, hanging loosely over Aemond’s shoulder, your arms dangling down his back. With a smirk you raised a hand, bringing it down swiftly against Aemond’s backside in retribution. He started, almost dropping you. “You are a feral wildcat, Y/N!”

“What does that make you?”

“Someone who is going to fuck you thoroughly when we get back to our chambers.”

You gripped the waist of Aemond’s tunic, his long hair tickling your nose as it swayed with his movements. His words quite distracted you, sending a pool of molten need flooding your abdomen.

“No witty retort?” You could hear the smirk in Aemond’s low voice as he shifted you more securely into his arms.

“Give me a moment.” You growled. “I’m recovering.”

He laughed, a lovely genuine sound.

The two of you had almost made it undetected to your rooms, when the door at the far end of the hallway opened. Alicent, Cole and Otto strode through it, noticing you almost immediately. You lowered your head, wishing to disappear as Aemond passed them. Otto and Cole diligently strode forward, their backs to you, but Alicent turned, following her son’s progress with raised eyebrows. She made eye contact with you briefly, the flicker of a smile passing over her lips, before looking up to the back of her son’s head. “Don’t forget the welcome dinner we have for the Redwyne’s tonight, Aemond.”

“We won’t, mother.”

Aemond rounded the corner and into the privacy of your spacious warm chambers, tossing you onto the mattress of the large bed where you bounced several times before he crawled on top of you. He traced the curves of your face, his fingers trailing a path down along the contours of your neck. His expression close to reverence as he gazed down at you, a curtain of silver hair framing your face. His exploratory hand ran the length of your body, curling under your skirts and caressing your trembling thighs. He nibbled a kiss to your parted lips. “Spread your legs for me.”

#aemond x reader #aemond imagine #aemond drabble #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond angst #aemond fluff #prince aemond x reader #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #aemond fanfic #aemond fic #aemond x reader smut #prince aemond #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen drabble

2K notes · View notes

willalove75 · 1 year

Text

Alcina's New Maid. Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

This idea has plagued my mind for almost two weeks and I need to get it out of my head so I can function😅😂

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu brings you in as one of her maids, at least, that's what you thought she brought you to the castle for.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI

Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn, smut.

Notes: This might be a few parts idfk I just need it out of my head NOW 😅😅

Click here for the rest of the series

It's the early hours of the morning, the sun has just risen and you're out in the back tending to the garden. You bring the mornings harvest into the kitchen and greet your aunt and uncle, both sitting down at the small kitchen table.

"Good morning." You say.

"Good morning dear." You aunt says, your uncle grumbles at you. "Are you off to get the children ready for the day?" She says, less asking and more telling you.

"Yes, I was just on my way to take care of them."

"Wonderful."

You walk into the bedroom, three young girls in a deep sleep in their beds. You begin to wake the oldest, Ana, who is about 10, and make your way to the middle and then the youngest, Elena, the youngest in the family at only 4 years old. You help them get dressed and send them down for breakfast, you make your way into the other bedroom where the two twin boys are still fast asleep. You wake them up, dress them and accompany them into the kitchen. You prepare their food and serve each child, you try your best to personalize each meal for each child, although your family is not wealthy by any means, you make do with what you have.

Once the children are fed and the kitchen is restored to its usual state, you bring them outside as you sweep the cobblestone path leading up to the house. The children are running around in the yard and in the street, kicking up dirt and rocks as kids do. As you're sweeping you hear the bells, you drop your broom and rush over to the children and begin to quickly usher them into the house.

The bells are only rung when the Lady of the castle comes through the village in her carriage. You've never seen her before, but you've heard rumors of her ruthlessness, many of those brought into her castle are never to be seen again. To avoid her, or her daughters, who are rumored to be worse than the Lady herself, the townspeople ring bells throughout the village to signal her arrival. All of the villagers rush inside and lock their doors, fearful that if the Lady or her daughters even see you, you will be whisked away, never to be seen again.

You hear the stomps of hooves a short distance away as you try and wrangle the children and get them inside, one by one they enter the house and you realize you're missing one. Fear shoots through you as you look into the road and see Elena, bending down in the road, picking up the rock she was playing with. You see the carriage, mutant-like horses pulling it, hurdling towards the child. Before you realize it, you're sprinting towards her, just before she's trampled you dive into the road and knock her out of the way, the two of you tumbling away from the carriage. The horses rear, bringing the carriage to a halt. You scramble and scoop the child into your arms, cradling her close to your chest as you sit in the dirt.

"Oh Elena," you say breathlessly, "are you hurt?"

Aside from a few scrapes, she is fine, but more scared then hurt and begins to cry.

"Shh, you're okay." You whisper to her.

You were so focused on Elena, you didn't realize someone emerged from the carriage until you see the hem of a cream dress and black stilettos standing just a few short feet in front of you. You slowly follow the dress up with your eyes, by the time you expect to reach the face of the person in front of you, you realize your eyes are only up to their waist. You strain your neck up and finally reach the top of the woman in front of you, her face shielded by a shadow cast by her large hat. You wrap your arms around Elena tighter as you're frozen by fear, realizing you're sitting at the feet of the Lady herself. Her one hand draped across her chest, her elbow resting on her arm with a long cigarette holder sitting between her two fingers, a lit cigarette sitting on the end of it.

"And what do we have here?" Her sultry voice taking you by surprise.

You sit there, still frozen in fear, your throat suddenly dry.

"I do not have the patience today to be ignored." She says, leaning down towards you. Piercing yellow eyes emerge from the shadow as she moves.

"I- I am so sorry Lady." You say bowing your head. "The child- she- she's just a child." You say with a shaking voice, your arms wrapped tightly around Elena as you try and hold back tears of fear.

The Lady says nothing, you can feel her eyes burning into you as she stares.

"Please," you say as you sheepishly look up at her. "Please don't hurt her."

She stands up straight and the shadow covers her face again. She says nothing for a moment and then speaks.

"And what if I want to?" She says, her voice sending chills down your spine.

"Hurt me instead, whatever you want to do to her, do to me instead, please, I beg you, don't harm her."

You hear her smirk, even though you can't see her eyes you know they haven't moved off of you.

"Is she your child?" She asks.

"No ma'am, she is my cousin."

"And you would be wiling to die for you, cousin?" She asks as if she's more surprised at who you would be willing to sacrifice your life for than the fact that you're willing to sacrifice your life at all.

"Yes ma'am, my purpose is taking care of them, if anything were to happen to them, I would never be able to live with myself."

"Your purpose?" She asks.

"Yes ma'am. I serve no other purpose than to take care of the children, without them, my life has no meaning." You say sincerely. Since your aunt and uncle took you in, you've taken care of the children, you have no job, you're not suitable for marriage, you truly believe that the only purpose you have in your life is to care for them.

"How pitiful." She says. You look away and stroke Elena's hair, still trying your best to comfort the terrified child. The Lady bends down, you look up and she brings her hand to your chin, you close your eyes, terrified that she's just going to kill you where you sit. You feel a soft gloved finger under your chin, she lifts your face and you open your eyes and look at her, a shadow still mostly covering her face. "Pitiful that such a beautiful maiden is nothing but a servant for children. Children that aren't even hers."

Taken back, you stare at her, you know what you heard her say, but your brain cannot process it. "Beautiful? Did she call me beautiful?" You think to yourself.

"Tell me draga, where do you live?"

"Just across the way." You gesture to the small house behind her.

"And who cares for you?"

"I- I live with my aunt and uncle." You say, unsure of why she's asking you these questions.

"Bring me to them."

You nod your head and stand up with Elena still clinging to you. You walk past the cart and take notice of a buzzing noise coming from the inside.

"Girls," you hear the Lady quietly growl to the cart as she walks past. "Behave."

The buzzing quiets and you walk up to the house, your aunt and uncle standing at the door with horror on their faces.

"Oh Elena." You aunt says as she takes the girl from your arms and carries her inside.

You stop at the door and turn and look at the woman, unsure of what to do next, she stands taller than the ceilings inside, you don't think she'd be able to fit.

"Well are you going to invite me in?" She says, looking down at you.

"Yes, of course." You say and make your way inside.

"Girls." The Lady says and turns towards the carriage.

A massive swarm of flies emerges from the carriage and three girls emerge, all dressed in black robes, one with blood stains on her cheeks. The Lady removes her hat and hands it to one of them.

"Stay here." She commands them.

"Yes mother." They reply in unison.

She bends down and enters the house, kneeling on the floor inside. Finally able to see her face, you're almost taken back at her beauty, her inky black hair curled and held in place with pins, her blood red lipstick, glowing yellow eyes, you're less afraid and more fascinated. She looks over at you and sees you looking at her, you quickly look down as your cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"How may we help you Lady?" Your aunt politely asks, a little afraid.

"Your niece," she says gesturing to you. "She tells me the only purpose she serves is caring for your children, is that correct?"

"That's all she's good for." You uncle says.

She slowly turns her head and glares in his direction.

"And why is that?"

"She has no skills, she's an orphan with nothing to her name so she's not suitable for marriage, no man will have her, and besides being a burden, all she can do is care for the children."

You look down at your feet as your uncle speaks, although you've heard those words your whole life, they still sting. The Lady purses her lips.

"An orphan?" She asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Her parents, my sister and her husband, perished in a fire when she was a child." You aunt says, you hear the three girls outside of the door giggle. "Our only choices were to take her in or-" she pauses and doesn't finish her sentence, everyone knows what she would have said, all orphans are sent to the Lady's castle.

"I see." She looks back over at you, you keep your eyes on the floor. "Well, if she is such a burden, I will gladly take her off of your hands." You look up at her with fear in your eyes.

"And who will care for our children?" Your uncle asks with anger in his voice.

"You're their father, are you not?" She snaps at him, he doesn't speak but he still has anger in his eyes. "If losing her will be an inconvenience, I will pay you handsomely for your troubles. Much more than a marriage proposal would fare." She laughs as she finishes her sentence.

"How much are we talkin'?" You uncle asks.

"Uncle!" You say in disbelief, you know he was never fond of you, but you never thought he would sell you, especially to her.

"Silence you wench! You have no say in this matter." He shoots daggers in your direction. You look at your aunt, tears filing your eyes, she looks away from you, not able to look you in the eyes.

The Lady's glare becomes more intense as she watches him reprimand you. She turns and looks at the girls out of the corner of her eye.

"Girls, my bag please."

"Yes mother." One of them says, disappearing into a swarm of flies, they fly over to the carriage and return, the girl emerging from the swarm with a large, leather purse in her hands. She hands it to the Lady and she pulls out a large pouch, handing it to your uncle.

"That would be half. I shall have one of my maids bring you the other half in a few days."

You uncles eyes light up as she drops the bag in his hands, it looked so small in hers, but easily fills both of his hands.

"Deal." He says, his eyes not leaving the large pouch in his hands.

"Uncle please," you beg.

"Enough, pack your things." He says.

You run into your room and lean against the door, tears falling down your cheeks, trying to stop the hyperventilating. You hear a small knock on the door, you take a deep breath and turn to open it, you aunt and Elena are standing there.

"How could you let him do this?" You say through tears. "She's going to kill me. You're sending me away to my death."

"I'm sorry, there was nothing I could do." She says, her eyes watery. You were never particularly close with either your aunt or uncle, you were always looked at as lesser than them. Although your aunt was kinder than your uncle was, maybe because you looked so much like your mother, regardless, neither of them seemed to care much for you.

"Don't go y/n." Elena says, tears in her eyes. You lean down and hug her.

"I'm sorry love, but I have to. I don't want to leave you, but I have to." Her little hands grab at your dress and you hold her close.

You aunt pulls Elena off of you and you pack your things. You don't own much, so everything fits into a small bag. You walk back out into the living room, your hands gripping the bag, trying your hardest to stop them from trembling.

"My Lady," you aunt says, breaking the silence. You uncle stares daggers at her, while the Lady looks at her curious of what she's going to say. "What can we do to ensure her safety? I- I don't want harm to come to her."

The Lady laughs, her deep laugh shakes the walls of the house, a terror fills your chest.

"You have my word, no harm will come to her." She says as she caresses your cheek with one of her gloved fingers. "And I am a woman of my word."

Her touch sends shives down your spine, the corners of the Lady's mouth curl as she feels the effect she has on you.

"Say your goodbyes. We must be going."

You turn and hug each child, you get to Ana and hold her tightly.

"Take care of them, okay?" You gently say. She nods her head with tears in her eyes and hugs you.

You get to Elena and you wrap your arms around her and kiss her head.

"I love you, please listen to Ana, okay? For me?"

She cries and nods her head, burying her face into your dress.

"Be brave." You say gently.

"I'm scared." She cries into you.

"I'm scared too," you say, looking into her eyes, "But we have to be brave when we're scared, when we have to do things we don't want to. Okay?"

She nods her head and hugs you again.

"I love you y/n."

"I love you too Lena."

The Lady clears her throat and you take a deep breath and let go of the child. You wipe her tears away and kiss her on the head again. You stand up and hug your aunt and turn towards the lady and nod your head.

"And what? You don't have anything to say to me?" You uncle says angerly. "You ungrateful, useless-" he stands up and walks towards you, the Lady reveals one of her sharp, long claws and puts it to his neck. You all gasp and your aunt tries to cover the children's eyes.

"I surely hope you treat your daughters better than that." She growls. She must have put the fear of the Black God into your uncle because for the first time in your life, he's silent, and terrified. She retracts the claw and looks at you.

"Let's go."

She backs out of the door and takes her hat from the girl holding it and places it back on her head. You follow her out the door and she leads you into the carriage. You look back at the place you called home once more and wave to the kids before climbing in. The Lady climbs in next to you, the carriage leaning to the side as she gets in. A massive swarm of flies enters the carriage and the three girls appear across from you.

"Oh mother she looks fun!" One of them says.

"Oh yes, mother can we play with her? Please?"

The third one grabs your arm, staring intently on the cut you got when you were saving Elena.

"She smells delicious mother, can we have a small taste? Please?" She begs.

"Girls, enough." She commands, the three girls immediately falling silent, the one releasing your arm. "She is going to be one of my new personal maids." She says, looking over at you, you feel her eyes on you and you keep your eyes on the floor.

The girls giggle and begin to chat amongst themselves. You hear whispers of them talking about a dungeon, who they were planning on taking down to it, whispers of hunting, you try your best to keep your nerves under control but the Lady seems to pick up on them immediately.

"No need to be afraid," she says looking down at you. "As long as you're obedient and you behave, you will never have to experience the dungeon, or worry about any of them." She says gesturing to the girls. She gently pats your leg, her hand can practically wrap around your entire thigh. The thought sends chills down your spine and you look out the window to distract yourself from thinking about it.

You reach the castle and you look out the window in amazement, you've never seen it up this close before, it's as breathtaking as it is ominous. You get out of the carriage and Lady Dimitrescu leads you inside.

"I presume you know how to clean, and well given you've watched after so many children for so many years?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, I will introduce you to the head maid and she will give you your assignment and a uniform. You start tomorrow morning, I suggest you clean yourself up and get a good nights rest tonight." She says, eyeing the dirt stains on your dress from earlier.

"Yes ma'am."

She leads you into the kitchen and introduces you to the head maid. She excuses herself and you're lead to the maids quarters, you're shown your small room, although it's still bigger than the room you had at your aunt and uncles house. You're given fresh uniforms and the head maid hands you a sheet with your duties.

"You will begin in the library tomorrow morning, I will show you around for the first few days, but after that you must remember where to go on your own. It is also very important that you do not, under any circumstances, enter the Lady's study or chambers without her explicit request, understand?"

"Yes." You say, looking over the list of chores.

"I can't tell you how many new maids I've lost due to them wandering in there, either on accident or to snoop around. Do not do it. Understand?"

"Yes. Understood." You say, looking up at her.

She leaves and you shower and put on the clean pajamas that were left in your wardrobe. You lay down in bed, surprised at how comfortable it is, and before you know it, you're asleep.

You wake the next morning and put on your uniform and pull your hair back. You grab your supplies and meet the head maid. She gives you a quick tour as she leads you to the library, you do your best to remember which room is which. You make sure you engrain into your mind which room is the Lady's study and which is her chambers so you never accidentally end up in there. You get to the library and the head maid leaves you to work. You look over your list, you have to dust, polish, return any stray books, sweep and mop the floors. The library is large, but you figure the floors are going to take the longest. You begin by putting away any books you see laying around, carefully replacing them to their correct spot.

You hear a faint buzz across the room and the sound of giggles, it's incredibly unsettling, but you do your best to ignore it and keep working. You hear books falling to the floor, the sound echoing across the room and it startles you. You walk towards the sound, the closer to the mess you get, the louder the buzzing gets. Out of the corner of your eye you see movement and turn around, you see one of the daughters giggle.

"Oopsies." She says, covering her mouth as she laughs and disappears into a swarm of flies.

You kneel down and pick up the books and return them to their shelves. "Well, it's not much more different than dealing with the kids at home." You think to yourself.

Once the mess is cleaned you return to dusting and polishing. As you're cleaning you hear the shrill laughter of the girls as they buzz through the castle, although much more frightening than the laughter of children, you quickly get used to the sounds and eventually you don't even notice it.

You hear the laughter enter the library and you do you best to keep focused on the floors. You hear footsteps behind you and you turn to see the three girls, the redhead running up to you and getting right into your face, examining you closely.

"Daniela please, let the girl do her work." The blond says.

"Get out of the way!" The brunette says, pushing the read head away. "I want to get a closer look at her." She says looking you up and down. "Oh I bet you taste sweet," she says, licking her lips. "I would love to get just a little taste." She holds up a sickle. "Just a little taste."

"Cassandra mother will kill you if you lay a finger on her." The blond reprimands her.

"Ugh." She says lowering the sickle. "You always ruin the fun Bela, I wanted to make her squirm!"

The girls still tower over you a bit, you don't even notice the smile that crossed your face as they bickered, reminding you of the kids you practically raised.

"What are you smiling at?" Bela says, looking at you curiously.

"Oh, nothing, sorry." You say as you look down. "You guys just reminded me of the kids a little, that's all."

"Oh, were they bad?" Cassandra asks with wild eyes.

"No, not at all, they were amazing."

"Well that's no fun." The Daniela says. "I can't wait to see what mother has in store for you."

You look at her, unsure of what she meant.

"Oh Daniela hush, you don't even know what mother wants with her." Bela says.

"All I know is that if she ever brings you down to the dungeon, I want to be there so I can get a taste of you." Cassandra says, licking her lips.

"Do you know why mother paid to bring you here?" Bela asks.

"Honestly, no. I have no idea." You say.

The three girls look at you curiously, none of them seeming to know the answer themselves.

"Well, it was lovely talking to you girls, but I really should get back to cleaning, I wouldn't want to fall behind on my first day and anger the Lady." You say.

The three girls look up and giggle and disappear in a swarm of flies.

"I should be offended that you would think it takes so little to anger me." You jump when you hear the voice behind you.

"Oh, Lady Dimitrescu, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were there." You stutter. "I didn't- that's not what I-" You fumble with your words, trying to save yourself.

She chuckles. "Oh draga, I am not offended. Not this time."

"Oh," you look down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. "Thank you."

She steps away and takes a seat on one of the chairs near you and crosses one of her long legs over the other.

"Is there anything I can do for you ma'am?" You ask, your eyes still focused on the floor.

"You are allowed to look at me dear." She says.

You look up and she leans forward, your eyes go to her massive chest as she leans forward, her dress perfectly showing off her impressive breasts. You immediately snap your eyes up, hoping she didn't notice. Her lips curl into a smile, "damnit. She noticed." You think to yourself. She sits back into the chair and opens the book you never noticed in her hand.

"There is nothing I need from you draga, not yet." Her yellow eyes feel like they're piercing your soul. "Please, continue, don't allow me to distract you from your work." She smiles at you and you shyly smile back.

"Oh, okay. Well, if you do need anything, please let me know." You say.

She turns her attention to her book and you go back to finishing sweeping the floors.

As you're cleaning you swear you catch her watching you, you try to focus on doing the best job you possibly can even though your nerves are extremely heightened at her presence.

You finally finish in the library, you look around and realize that Lady Dimitrescu is no longer in her chair, you didn't notice that she left, you're not entirely sure how long it had been since she left, but you're grateful that you were able to do a good enough job where she didn't say anything.

You gather your things and head back to your quarters to look for the head maid to see if there's anything else you needed to do since it was only the afternoon. To her surprise, there was nothing left for you to do so you had the rest of the day to yourself. You showered, changed into a new outfit and hung out in your room until dinner.

Once dinnertime came you made your way to the kitchen and got in line to eat. You could tell there was a pecking order amongst the maids, made up between the highest-ranking ones and the ones who have been here longest. You did your best to not step on anyone's toes as you waited in line. You could tell there were cliques among the maids, you tried to make yourself as invisible as possible as you tried to find an open seat with your tray in your hands. You notice a maid stuck her foot out to try and trip you, you carefully walked around her and avoid looking at her as you pass.

"You think you're better than me?" You hear someone say.

You had no idea who they were taking to, but you didn't think they were talking to you so you kept walking.

"You, new girl." You hear her say. You turn around and realize she was talking to you. "You think you're better than me?" She asks, anger in your eyes.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you were talking to me. But, no, I don't not at all." You say.

She walks up to you and smacks your tray out of your hand, your meal scattering across the floor.

"Know your place bitch." She growls at you. "Now clean up the mess." She says as she walks back to her seat.

Stunned, you stand there for a second before cleaning up what was going to be your dinner. You look over and realize that there wasn't much left and you head back to your room. You lay in bed, your stomach growling. "How was it easier to deal with the three girls than it is dealing with the other maids?" You ask yourself. You finally roll over and fall asleep, hoping there won't be any more issues with the other maids.

The next few weeks are about the same, the one maid knocking at least half of your meals out of your hand. You eventually figure out when she gets to the kitchen for meals and try to get in before she does so you can actually eat, it angers her, but you do your best to ignore her. You have more run-ins with the girls, they seem fascinated by you, and you couldn't help but be a little fascinated with them too. Lady Dimitrescu pops up a few times throughout each week in whatever room you're working in, it strikes you as odd, but you try not to think too much of it. You can't imagine that she has time to visit every maid as frequently as she sees you.

You were eventually given the task to take care of requests that the girls ask of you, although they really didn't ask for too much. You removed blood stains from their dresses, cleaned and polished their weapons, usually their sickles, helped them remove blood stains from carpets their mother specifically asked them to not get blood on, the usual, at least the usual for this castle.

One day you're cleaning the main stairway, leading from the foyer to the second floor. You hear the usual buzzing and giggles and you smile as the girls run amuck through the castle. A swarm of flies appears in font of you and Daniela appears.

"Y/n, I need your help!"

"What's up Daniela?"

"You have to tell Cassandra that I'm less messy than she is. She doesn't believe me!"

"Daniela, respectfully, I am not getting in the middle of whatever you and Cassandra have going on today. Plus, it's not nice to lie." You say with a smile.

You hear a laugh from the second floor and you look up to see Lady Dimitrescu staring down at the two of you from the balcony. Your cheeks turn red as you return your attention to your work.

"Ugh!! Mother! Make her tell Cass!" Daniela whines.

Lady Dimitrescu descends the stairs towards the two of you.

"She's right Daniela, it is not nice to lie."

Daniela bursts into a swarm of flies and angerly storms away and you try and hide the smile on your face.

"You're very good with the girls, I know they can be," she pauses for a moment to carefully pick her words. "A handful."

"They're not so bad, plus, they're like any other siblings, they all bicker the same, just over different things."

She smiles at you and gently hums as she walks down the stairs past you. You pause for a second to listen, you never realized she was able to sing, no less had such a beautiful voice.

"What else is on your to-do list today?" She asks as she reaches the bottom of the steps.

"Once I finish the stairs I just have to dust and mop the hall up here."

"And you are off tonight, correct?" She asks.

"Yes, my next night shift is tomorrow night."

"Delightful, I am going to need your assistance tonight."

"Oh, uh, yes of course."

"Meet me in my chambers after dinner."

You freeze for a second and look down at her, she looks up at you with a smirk on her face.

"In your, uh, chambers?"

"Did I stutter?"

"No ma'am. I'll be there."

"Excellent."

She walks away and you take a deep breath. You continue the stairs and try to finish as quickly as you can while still doing a thorough job.

Once you finish you shower and change into a fresh uniform, you hurry to the kitchen and quickly grab your food and eat before the maid that has it out for you throws your dinner across the kitchen. Luckily you're able to finish by the time she shows up, she sees you cleaning up your plate and she shoots daggers at you. You have no idea why she seems to have it out for you, but you try your best to ignore and avoid her. You go to leave the kitchen and she goes out of her way to walk past you with her tray in her hands. You look forward and try to ignore her, as you pass you feel a sharp pain across your arm and you yelp and put your hand over you arm only to realize you're bleeding. You turn to look at the maid and you see her turn her kitchen knife back in.

"Oops. Sorry." She says sarcastically.

You hurry to your room and wrap a bandage around your arm, you realize you have a little blood on your dress but you don't have time to change. You rush out of your room and make your way to the Lady's chambers.

#lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfic #willalove75 #wlw fanfic

750 notes · View notes

writtenbyred · 7 months

Text

Something Bad // A Matt Murdock x Reader fic // Slow burn

Note: Okay so I finally decided to post something I've had in my docs as a draft for forever, because why not. A slow burn matt murdock x reader romance with a whole lot of original storyline and plot building in this first chapter if you're willing to stick with it until you get the entrance of wonderful and rageful Matt.

Warnings: Reference to sexual violence/assault in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I have, since writing up lots for this story and planning it out and becoming attached to my character, seen other fics using an 'empath' OC, but I have become very attached to 'Ana' and I guess daredevil and all its angst lends itself well to an empath story so I'm sending this out into the ether anyways.

Go forth and read if you would like to <3 - Red

Chapter 1. Emotions.

Sat at a cold, metal table on a particularly uncomfortable chair, you looked intently at the person sitting opposite. There sat a young girl. In her file it said she was 21, but if you hadn’t seen that and had to hazard a guess, you’d have presumed her to be around 18. The way her eyes were cloudy with tears, her hands shaking slightly as she held them up to her chin, elbows lent on the cold metal, it all contributed to making her look younger - small, in that moment.

“It’s okay, Emma” You spoke, edging your hands forward on the table in a subconscious show of support. “You can take your time, we’re in no rush”

Emma looked upwards, then. You watched as a single tear slipped from her eye, only briefly tumbling down her cheek before Emma reached to wipe it with her sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” Emma stuttered a little over her words, her voice raspy from emotion. “I’m being silly, I just-”

As her words cut off mid sentence, you reached your hand forward quickly to place a comforting hand on Emma’s arm. The dark tumbling of vivid feelings - sadness, shame and fear, that you were already feeling inside your chest (or stomach, mind, just about everywhere? You weren’t 100% where the feelings of others ended up locating themselves within you) multiplied until she felt overwhelmed, having to shake her head with an exhale to push through them.

“Do not apologise. You are not being silly, and have nothing to feel sorry for. This is something incredibly difficult you’re doing, and I’m here to help you through it.” You grasped the girl's hand at that point, and in the way that you still did not fully understand, a wave of whatever calm you could find within yourself washed over you and towards Emma for a moment, and the girl let out a sigh as you watched some of that pain leave her. In that moment you felt good, happy that she could provide this sort of relief for somebody, even if only temporarily and not without an increase in your own anxieties.

“Thank you, I… I think I’m ready to talk now” And Emma’s words came at a perfect time, as a few moments later your head turned to the door, a soft knock floating through.

“You can come in” You called out to the officer you knew was standing on the other side, and then the door opened.

A police officer with a kind face stepped into the room, you had spoken with him earlier when you had first arrived - You were pretty sure he had said his name was Brett. He sent a small smile towards you both, and his empathy for the girl's situation shone through, even if you knew he would never be able to understand her emotions quite as well as you could.

“Sorry to interrupt, I just wanted to see how you were getting on” He walked towards the table and you realised then he was holding a mug in his hand, placing it down in front of the girl, he then gestured towards it. “It’s tea.” Emma reached her hand out to grasp it and looked to give him a smile in thanks.

“Sorry Miss Johnson, I didn’t think to get you anything-” You cut off the officer - still unsure if it was definitely Brett he had said, definitely something with a B - before he could finish.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” You shifted her attention back to Emma as she released the hand you had half forgotten she was still holding in order to bring the mug to her lips. She seemed more relaxed now, the awful panic of hopelessness and shame creeping in having dissipated slightly.

“So, do you think we’re ready to make a full statement, or?” He trailed off slightly, looking from Emma to you. You looked to the girl, letting the silence continue for as long as necessary, giving the girl the opportunity to make her own decision. You knew her ability to say yes or no had already been taken from her at least once that day, and you weren’t about to do it again.

“Yes, I’m ready to talk now” Emma seemed to sit up a little in her seat, lifting her head higher in her decision.

“Okay, great. I’ll be taking it from you, if that’s okay? We can try to find a female officer if you’ll be more comfortable.” Brett added, pulling the lone chair from the corner of the room to the table in order to sit in between them.

“No, that's fine. But, could Ana stay, please?” Emma’s eyes shifted to yours, and the subtle plea held within them was noticeable, even if you couldn’t feel the emotion rolling off of her.

“That’s okay with me, If Miss Johnson-”

“Of course” You spoke to the room, and then to Emma. “I’ll stay.”

And so you did.

You stayed and listened as Emma spoke of what happened early that morning, when she had been finishing a night shift at around 5am. What had happened when the sky was still dark and Hell’s Kitchen still shrouded in shadows as she made the short walk through back streets towards a bus route. As she had been grabbed, attacked by rough hands who pulled her into an alleyway. You felt fear, panic rising in bubbles from her stomach, to her chest, to her throat. And so you leant forward, taking the girl’s shaking hand in yours when she’d faltered over her retelling, stopping to catch her breath through tears, the emotions intensifying as she worked to calm them. A subtle nudge from your mind, some quiet ringing in your own ears, and you saw as Emma’s shoulders seemed to relax slightly, her rapid breaths slowing and stabilising, allowing her to continue on. You offered her a weak smile in encouragement.

There were many times in your life where you had hated the fact that you were capable of this. When things had become overwhelming when you were younger, when emotions would feel like they were strangling you in some situations.

You hated hospitals, always. The fear, the pain, the hopelessness from so many had twisted painful knots into your stomach, caused your chest to tighten and your eyes to burn, when your Mum was sick, you had avoided the hospital as much as possible, often unable to visit her. your own home, after your mum had died, now that was simply unbearable.

But in rare moments like this, You were grateful for your ability to take some of the girl’s pain away, even if you had to feel it in turn.

Once the difficult conversation was done, Officer Brett Mahoney (you had read his name tag) had stopped the recording and explained to Emma what would happen next. Through this, though, and whilst they left the room and left Emma waiting for whoever she had contacted to come, You’s world was blurred. your body was exhausted, and a deep ache had built within you as you still felt all the painful emotions, now overwhelming your mind after such time. you had to stabilise yourself against the wall in the hallway for a moment whilst Officer Mahoney had gone to talk to an officer, closing your eyes to wait for the momentary dizziness to pass.

Hearing your name made you open your eyes, stand up straighter to face Officer Mahoney.

“Miss. Johnson, thank you for coming down.” His face was serious but the warmth shone through his eyes, as well as his feelings of appreciation, which washed over You like a hot shower, a momentary recess from the dark and cutting emotions you still had swirling within your. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it, but you really managed to calm her down. She was a mess before, understandably. I don’t know if we would have gotten that statement until morning otherwise. Gives us a much better chance of finding the guy”.

“It’s no bother, I’m happy to do it” You sent a smile at him, your head slowly returning to functioning more capably. And as much as it did take a lot out of you, dealing with the overwhelming emotions of these difficult situations and the police station in general, you really were happy to do it.

“We’re getting a lot of similar cases at the minute” He shook his head at that and a grimace came on You’s face. you knew that, you’d had to do this for far more people lately. “It would be useful to have you there in future.”

A wave of nausea passed over you as another rush of panic and grief washed over you. You stole a glance back to the room you’d just been in, only a few feet away, and you realised you needed to get as far away from it as possible. So you reached your hand into the pocket of your jacket and quickly picked up your card, handing it to Brett with a forced smile.

“Call me here if you ever need someone again” You spoke before lifting your bag on your shoulder and turning to head towards the door, as quickly as you could without causing alarm. On the way out you felt a mixture of anger, grief, happiness, and then some more fear thrown in for good measure, all flowing out of the people sitting in the station.

Once you reached the large entrance doors, finally pushing outside into the cool air, you breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Your hands anxiously patted at your thighs, leaning your whole upper body forward as you shut your eyes, willing your brain to just calm. The emotions within you started to simmer down, as the outside air filled your lungs, it seemed as you exhaled a lot of the pain went with it, and you welcomed that calmer feeling, though some of the dizziness remained.

You hadn’t always been able to do this. As a kid you could remember people praising your empathy, a kind warm child who always wanted to make people feel better, so you supposed maybe it had always lived inside of you. Not that you really understood what ‘it’ was, but it was as you got a little older that it really started. As you started hitting teenage years, it was… overwhelming.

As other kids started being aware of themselves; feeling emotions more deeply, feeling embarrassment, starting to explore romantic interests - You felt it all, except not only for yourself. You supposed one of the first times you realised what was happening to you wasn’t normal was in 8th grade. A girl had come into class after a couple days away, her eyes looked a little lifeless, dark circles and redness that indicated she had been crying, but none of the other 13 year olds seemed to notice this, but You did, because as she walked into the room a pit opened at the bottom of your stomach, seemingly making room for the dark horrific feeling of a sad pain mixed with guilt, fear, hopelessness and anger to enter, taking You’s breath away. As it turned out, the girl had lost her father. That was the first time you had known what grief felt like, and it certainly wasn’t the last.

You checked your phone for the time, seeing it was 5:45pm, you’d spent far more time in the police station than you had expected to, and it was time for you to call it a day. You mostly worked alone, the card you handed over simply stating your name, and a description of Emotional counselling/Advocate/Representative to try and encompass the range of things you did for people. In reality this was everything from working with somebody to calm their nerves before giving a large presentation to, what you did far more often, coaching people who were scared and traumatised giving statements and later testifying in court. You were also part of a company who provided advocates to those who were vulnerable in any legal proceedings or meetings with law enforcement, but often once you had worked with somebody, you handed them your personal card, as agencies tended to pay jack shit.

You had desperately wanted to find any way you could put this curse some would call a gift to use, to try and help people if you could. You had too much experience of not being able to help people, especially the ones you loved, which was still eagerly eating away at you.

Near the station was a coffee shop you’d been to a few times before or after similar trips, and as much as caffeine may not help the banging headache that you had building, in that moment you really didn’t care.

On your short walk to the shop, the fluttering of different feelings inside you that you’d grown used to continued. Somebody on the phone was clearly in love, a warmth spreading through you as you pushed past the woman smiling at whoever she was talking to. Another was stressed, walking with purpose and tension in his shoulders which had passed through to you for a moment. You shook your head, willing yourself to try to tune it out for the moment.

You reached the shop, and headed to join the queue of people also craving their caffeine fix.

You browsed the menu as you took shuffling steps as the line kept moving up, your eyes falling on a sweet caramel filled coffee, your heart tugging towards it. When you stepped up to the counter, however, you ordered a large black coffee. You had a guilty pleasure of sickly sweet coffee, however your life wasn’t so much about what you wanted anymore.

You took a large gulp of the bitter and hot liquid that scalded your throat slightly, but it was better than feeling the remnants of the acidic feeling of panic you’d felt there all afternoon.

Back at your one bedroomed, simple apartment You had chucked your coffee cup into the bin, your body now slightly electrified by the caffeine content, of which you were glad. You expected the night ahead of you may be a long one, and the more awake you were for it, the better.

Grabbing your laptop, you placed it on your rectangular coffee table, taking a seat on the somewhat battered hard leather couch. You then pulled the laptop onto your lap, pressing the power on button.

Once the light finally flickered on and the screen illuminated, you opened up a document you had, very cleverly you thought, entitled Mom’s recipes. Scrolling past the few simple recipes you’d stolen from the Food Network, you came to the page on which you were keeping the information you had gathered. You bit your lower lip as your eyes darted back and forth to scan the things you had previously written.

There was only just under a page of short sentences, but it was a better position than you had been in 6 months ago, so you would take it.

“Daniel - Previous chef at Le Frère Juste restaurant had been known to have fallen into the criminal network of Hell’s Kitchen, believed to be due to a substance abuse problem Mr.-”

You stopped reading that particular sentence, which was a quote from a police report you had obtained a couple months back through means that some would possibly frown upon, including the police that it came from, which meant that perhaps it wasn’t entirely legal. What you had been more interested in was the name attached to said report. One Officer Jenkins, who you had spent time trying to track down for more information, but was so far unsuccessful.

You weren't empty handed, however.

At the beginning was the hardest, not knowing where to look for information,how to recognise the snippets of clues that could lead to more. But once you had finally gotten one name, you’d tumbled into another, then another. you should’ve been more shocked to discover the dark, tangled web of criminal factions that underpinned Hell’s Kitchen, but having lived here since you were 6 years old, you’d already seen (and felt) much of the darkness that shrouded Hell’s Kitchen.

The names you had gathered were few, but you were hopeful one of them could provide you with information you needed. So far you had only approached one of the men on your list, who had been unable to give you any information about Daniel or what he was involved with before he had died. You had half expected that however, having picked what you presumed to be the weakest first, to test whether you would be capable of approaching them, if you could use your ability in the right way to cause them to fear you enough to hand over information. Information you may not have gotten, but the sight of the guy running away at full speed once you’d lightened your effect on him certainly improved your confidence in the matter.

You had attended some form of fighting sport since you were a teen on and off, completing a couple years of boxing, some karate, kickboxing also. You’d figured out that punching, kicking, generally throwing yourself at things in some way was a great method for releasing some of the intense emotions pent up inside you that spilled out from everyone else into you. However, you were not technically a fighter of any kind, so 6 months ago when you’d decided this was something you would have to do, for Daniel, you’d started taking self defence lessons, and then deciding you wanted something a little more on the offensive, you’d started one-on-one kickboxing. Of course, you hoped to be successful enough at using your ability against people, but you weren't stupid, and knew you were getting yourself into something dangerous, and thought it best not to rely on simply scaring gang members into not killing you.

Even with trembling hands, you thought, surely a gun shot would eventually be on target.

Tonight, however, you were hoping for a more successful night. you eyed the second name on your list, and the information you had gained on where this Alex Peters would be this evening by doing some, as some may say, light stalking of Alex a couple of nights earlier this week. you’d known his favourite bar hangout, and after frequenting there many times, you finally got lucky and spotted him at the start of the week, and now you knew he was going to be meeting with some others tonight in Hell’s Kitchen.

Planning on getting him alone, and asking him what he knew about Daniel, you slipped into your darker, more athletic clothing hoping to blend into the shadows. Once you had what you needed, including a small pen knife and mace on your keys, the only physical offensive weapons you had, the last thing you did before you left was pull up your dark hood over your head.

The air in Hell’s Kitchen was cool as an inky darkness had fallen over the sky, illuminated only by the light pollution spilling out of New York City. You sat crouched on a fire escape, one you’d had to wrestle with a pull-down ladder in order to get up on to. It provided you the perfect vantage point to watch what was happening below. You held a small digital camera in your hand, nothing special since you weren't exactly rolling in cash, however it took better quality pictures than your phone did. you weren't exactly sure why you were collecting photos of the criminal rings you had been tipped off to, or what you may use them for, but it made you feel like you were doing something.

Down below, you were watching 5 men interact. One of these was the guy who’s name you’d been given, with a possible connection to Daniel: That was Alex Peters, a relatively short man with a shaved head and tattoos littering his large, muscular arms and seeping on to his neck. Typically exactly what you’d expect from some sort of intimidating muscle man for a gang. Great, You thought, you weren't exactly looking forward to trying to get information from him.

The others seemed to be a mix of associates of Alex and another group. They were discussing something in tones too hushed for you to be able to make out what they were saying, but considering the fact they were a bunch of criminals attached to everything from drugs to murder, you’d hazard a guess that it wasn’t anything good.

They stood within a half decrepit building, either a warehouse or an old multstorey car park of which only metal bones remained, You weren't sure, but either way the damage, which was presumably a result of The Incident, made for a great hotspot for criminal activities, but also thankfully allowed you a great view from your vantage point.

Alex started to split from the rest of the pack, and your attention peaked, quickly placing away your camera into the small over shoulder bag you had, standing yourself up, a little, in preparation.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, shouting back to the others whilst he walked in the opposite direction to where they were headed towards a car trunk.

He shouted something incomprehensible, and you started to move. your footsteps light and you shimmied yourself back down the ladder you’d used to climb up in the first place. you could hear your own heart beating loudly in your ears, your chest thudding as you tried to control your breath before approaching this man. For somebody with the ability to manipulate somebody else’s emotions, you sure could struggle with your own sometimes.

You pulled your hood over your head even further, more as a comfort action than anything else. Alex had rounded the corner of a half broken down wall, You watching the light from his cigarette as you circled round in the shadows, crouching hidden behind a large metal waste bin as you ran over and over in your head what was about to happen. You would approach as quickly as possible, the minute he turned the opposite direction and then… Well you hoped that some muscle memory from your far too few kickboxing lessons and the somewhat unpredictable emotional manipulation powers would come into clutch in the moment.

In the distance, there was the loud sound of the other men, clattering of metal as they looked through their trunk and laughed together, but you couldn’t hear that. The world around had slipped away, a dull pressure building in your ears that made everything around your seem slightly slower, it built further as Alex Peters pulled his old phone from his pocket, his attention now turned away from your direction, and the fullness in your ears seemed to suddenly pop, and then everything was moving fast again; too fast.

In a swift movement, you stood to your feet, and gliding steps took you suddenly right to where Alex stood. He started to turn towards you, a breath of an almost word leaving his mouth as he instinctively raised his arm to push you away, but you stepped back, and threw your knee up quickly, your full body weight behind you as you jutted it into his stomach, winding him.

“What the F-” Alex’s breathless words came out quickly, but you couldn’t have him alerting the other men to your presence, because then you’d seriously be screwed, so you quickly reached your hand out to his shoulder, and let an intense jolt of fear out of yourself.

The man before you went rigid, confusion seeming to pass his face before a look of terror enveloped it. You had felt scared more than enough times in your life, and still carried enough of that around to pull it from yourself and throw it into him. So that’s what you did.

A continuous pressure of terror sent between two minds, and soon it was easy enough for you to grip him harder, bringing your other hand to his opposite shoulder, shoving him back against the brick wall.

“Alex Peters.” your voice came out more gruff than you’d ever normally hear yourself sound. It was laced with anger, and presumably adrenaline, but you had to keep it quiet. His stuck wide eyes darted back and forth between yours and the vice-like grip of your hands. He seemed to try to speak, but was unable to, so you continued. “I’m going to give you a name. And you are going to tell me what you know.”

He just looked at you, so you moved your hand to his throat, reaching deeper within yourself to channel more intense feelings into him. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead he gave a quick nod, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Daniel, Daniel Johnson. Do you kno-” you couldn’t finish your sentence as your adrenaline fueled trance was suddenly broken by the clashing sound you heard from just past the wall. you whipped your head towards the sound. Your concentration was broken, your mind losing its grip on the channelling emotions for just a moment. But it was long enough for Alex Peters to regain some of his composure, clearly finding his voice enough to shout out, and push you backwards, causing you to stumble over your own legs.

Your eyes were back on him just in time to see his still shaking fist coming towards you, ringing in your ears a moment later as you were too late to fully avoid his hand connecting with the side of your temple. you doubled over for a moment, and suddenly the nerve endings in the front of your face exploded in pain, his knee having connected directly with your nose. you leant back against the metal you originally hid behind, the coolness aiding the heat burning through you. You mustered up the adrenaline to lift yourself up, going after him.

However, as your fingers were just grasping his jacket to pull him backwards, your eyes focused ahead and saw that the other men were now approaching. your fuzzy mind had only enough time to pull into focus one word; Shit.

All of a sudden, with the distant sound of a soft thud, there was another figure standing before you. In the dim light, it seemed like just a shadow of a man. But all of a sudden, one of the men was on the floor, and the others were now focused on a new target.

The new development didn’t keep your attention long though, with the others now running to throw punches at the shadow figure, you could turn back to Alex and throw your arms at him again.

You grabbed his forearm, and let your mind kick into action in a way that was becoming more practised, more perfected. you threw your body weight at him, stumbling you both back against the brick wall, Alex’s back thudding roughly against it at which he let out a small cry.

“Daniel Johnson, tell me.” Your voice was rushed, desperation sneaking through into your tone, your need for answers burning at your already gravelly throat. His eyes however were focused to his right, where over his shoulder, the other men he’d been with were either choosing to run or being beaten to the ground. His fabricated terror seemingly having found a new perpetrator in the shadow man. And he fought back against you, clearly desperate to join his fellow cowards in escape. You were pushed backwards once again, your smaller frame at your disadvantage, and for a moment your breath caught in your throat, the flash of dark metal catching your eye, the gun in Alex’s hand being lifted up towards you, but almost instantly, Alex disappeared from before you.

You could feel your shaky breaths coming back, faster than usual, the quickened beats of your heart in your ears at full volume again. The gun was gone from Alex’s hand when you looked back to him, and instead he was being hit swiftly around the head with it, knocking him sideways. you watched as the shadow of a man grabbed Alex by the neck, his other hand clasped into a fist, quickly connecting with the side of Alex’s temple. Once. Twice. A third hit, and Alex’s eyes had fallen closed, his body grew limp, and it fell to the floor as the man released his hold on his neck.

For a moment you just stood there, watching the back of the man clad all in black, your quick and shallow breaths seemingly mirroring his as his tight shoulders heaved up and down in steady rhythm. For a moment, he just stood there also. Still, unmoving.

Slowly, he turned around to face you. You weren’t sure how you were meant to feel, having seen this man just take out 5 or more men in the space of a couple minutes, standing alone in an alleyway with him, but the large amount of adrenaline was clearly still coursing through your veins because you didn’t take much notice to how you should feel.

What you did feel in that moment, though, was a deep seated rage. you hadn’t the functioning brain power in that moment to ponder whether that emotion was bubbling up inside of you or flooding out of the man before you.

You watched him as he seemed to consider you for a moment, his head twitched to the side, and you tried to study him also, but the majority of his face was covered by black cloth. You took a momentary glance over his all black attire, the thin material splayed across his thick torso severely lacking in protection. Before he had the chance to say anything, the thick and red hot rage was clawing at her throat to be verbalised.

“What the hell.” Your voice was gravelly, pitched low as you stood in some sort of standoff with this shadow of a man. You couldn’t see his facial expression, only the slight tick in his jaw as he slowly cocked his head in the other direction.

“Excuse me?” His voice was deep. It was rough and came from deep in his chest, which was still rising and falling in rapid respiration. You simply narrowed your eyes at him, reasonable thought and any sense of self preservation clearly out of the window with the adrenaline still coursing through your veins.

“I said, what the hell, man” You lifted a hand to your hair, roughly pushing away the wisps of it that had fallen in front of your face. “I was just about to- well, whatever, but you jump in here and ruin it.” Your voice was somewhat hectic.

With Alex Peters having run off, your chance of getting some more information about Daniel had gone with him, and at that moment, all of your negative feelings about that outcome were being filtered and thrown straight at the man before you. It seemed those feelings were mostly anger.

His lips seemed to press into an even more grim line, as he shook his head in a movement ever so slight, it may have been a subconscious reflex in his disagreement.

“If I hadn’t jumped in when I did then you’d most likely be dead right now.” He stated matter of factly, causing you to scoff.

“I can handle myself just fine, thank you.” Your hands rested upon your hips, trying to hide the way they still shook slightly from the man before you, an attempt to exude confidence, despite the way your heart rate was still racing.

“I’m not sure I would call having a gun pointed to your head, handling yourself, exactly.” Although his lips remained in a line, his voice still grim, it gained the slightest lilt of teasing to it, and flames of annoyance built up in your chest, escaping in the way of a groan of exasperation.

“I would have been perfectly fine, without you showing up and chasing away my- That guy.” Words flew from your mouth a little quicker than you could filter them, realising you probably shouldn’t be telling details of your plans to the stranger in front of you.

“Sure you would.” His voice and the feelings that flew off of him held no ounce of truth. “You need to be more careful, what are you doing out here trying to talk to these guys?” His head cocked to the side once against, an almost questioning taunt to his positioning.

His near chastising tone brought a laugh from your lips.

“What’s it to you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a small step back from him, looking him up and down from clothed face down to a tough black boot, and it clicked for you where you'd seen this shadow man before. You drew in a sharp breath.

The Man in Black.

You’d seen the papers as you walked past the stands, you’d seen the news and heard local radio all talking about this Man in Black. A vigilante sort, who seemed to be travelling around Hell’s Kitchen and regularly beating the shit out of people.

“Well, I’m just trying to-” He started again, less gravel to his voice now he seemed to have calmed a bit, but you cut him off before he could impart his opinion on to you.

“Stop it. I know who you are” He stilled for a moment, taking you in as you purposely rolled your shoulders back, standing a little taller before him, still feeling those sparks of rage flickering. “The Man in Black” You added emphasis to his given title with the lilt of sarcasm in your voice clear.

“I don’t need to take advice from some vigilante, going around and spreading violence. You have no idea what I’m doing, who I am,” For some reason you hadn’t quite realised, a lot of vitriol was building into your voice as you addressed the man in black. Thinking of the many people you’d heard of him having fought. The people he’d hurt. How was he to know if the people he fought deserved it? What if it was somebody just caught up with the wrong people. Someone like Daniel. “You’ve screwed things up for me here tonight, I have a banging headache from being punched, and also knee-d actually, in the face, and now no information, so thank you very much, Man in Black, but I think this is where I’ll be bidding you goodnight.

His lips parted slightly, which was just visible to you under the dim glow of distant street lights down the alley. It looked like he was about to speak, but before he could you heaved your bag further up your shoulder, a wince as you jolted your head with your movement, and spun on your heel.

“You’re hurt…” His gruff voice trailed off, but you simply waved a hand in his direction, exhaustion suddenly pulling at your mind, and knowing vehemently that you did not need saving by some guy in a black mask.

You continued to retrace your steps towards the ladder that led you back to your vantage point and a way home, empty handed. However, the deep voice stopped you again whilst you were only a few metres away.

“Wait.” You tilted your head slightly back in his direction. “The name you said, Daniel Johnson was it-”

Anger shot through your veins, your voice coming out as more of a growl. “Don’t say that name” You simply said, watching as the man in black stood still, his lips still parted in question. But you simply turned and walked away, having had enough of the night.

Your legs dragged heavy beneath you, feeling like logs as you battled each step. Now the adrenaline was wearing off, every step felt more difficult, and exhaustion was truly trying to pull you under the whole way back to your flat.

As you walked down dark back alleys and hidden streets, you tried not to think about the fact that you’d had a gun pulled on you this evening, the cool metal of it still a phantom feeling against the skin of your head. Tried not to think about the fact that you could have died, and that for all of that, you still had no new information, thanks to the Man in Black.

A couple of blocks from the location of your night's altercation, you paused, a heavy stone in your chest as you lent your head back against the cold and rough brick of an alley wall. A couple of shaky breaths escaped you, and much to your dismay, now that you were alone, surrounded by nobody’s emotions but your own, a tear slid from between your lashes down and over your cheekbone. You shook your head, and pushed off the wall with a kick of your feet, desperate to get yourself home.

You pulled your jacket closer around your body, your hood still tight over your head, and walked quickly through the darkened and unsafe streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night, in the direction of your apartment. You kept your head down, trying your best to avoid any trouble. You didn’t think you had it in you for another fight of any kind this evening.

You weren’t aware, however, that were you to encounter one, the man in black would be right there with you.

#matt murdock #fan fiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x oc #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock fanfic #here goes nothing #sending this out into the ether

52 notes · View notes

harrowharkwife · 1 year

Text

the transcript for 615 isn't out yet so my sleuthing abilities are somewhat limited but i cannot believe how heavyhanded they were last night! about not only the running theme of eddie & time, but also the running theme of buck & luck.

we clocked (ha) the eddie & time theme awhile back, but if you rewatch s5&s6, there's a running theme of luck, too, and it's centered squarely around buck. it's a little quieter, sure, but it's absolutely there.

something about the way that eddie's root traumas all stem from the pressure he was under, this persistent pressure to grow up faster than he should have. an hourglass turned over and the sand running out, minutes and seconds falling grain by grain from cradle to grave. man of the house by age twelve, a husband and father and soldier by nineteen, a widow by twenty six. he's lived a remarkable amount of life in a remarkably short time, if you think about it. but he never had the time or the chance to point his life in a new direction, stuck on a set of predetermined tracks and speeding milestone to milestone through a life of inevitable conclusions and preset outcomes he never had the chance to choose, living his life for others instead of for himself, feeling like he's running out of time, like his window of opportunity to live authentically for himself is slipping out of reach. he's spent his whole life racing the clock, really- can i just get a little damn time?

something about the way that buck's root traumas all stem from this tumbling domino effect of misfortune, one stroke of horrible, tragic, no-good luck after another. daniel's leukemia, strike one. neither maddie nor margaret nor phillip being a match, one helluva strike two. baby buck's bone marrow graft, just...not taking, despite everything? strike three. he was born to be a 'miracle baby.' but that's the funny thing about miracles, isn't it? when you try to engineer them, all the luck runs out. so he grew up unlucky in love, unlucky in friends, unlucky in family. feeling, rightly or wrongly, like he was always the odd man out, always the one being left, always the one clinging to whatever good, bright, shiny, lucky little thing he can find, forever trying to make sense of his place in this world. of course he feels like he cheated death- in a sick, sad, tragic way, he was essentially born in a desperate attempt to cheat the looming spectre of daniel's. (of course it's understandable that parents will do anything in their power to save their child, of course the buckley parents should have gone about it better, these two things can coexist). when your life so far has been a series of unfortunate events, of course you're going to spend it chasing down every opportunity you see through your rose colored glasses to try and change that luck- even if it's too good to be true. even when the universe is screaming at you. even with a million red flags waving in the Santa Ana winds. it's a run of bad luck, but it'll turn around tomorrow. // feels like the bracelet didn't change her luck, it just made the bad luck more apocalyptic.

something about one in a million chances. something about beating the odds, surviving despite it all. something about the way that the tsunami AND the shooting AND the lighting strike are all the definition of simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

something about jinxes, and curses, and dumb luck. 'cause what is fate, anyway, if not time and luck intertwined?

now feels like a good time to remind ourselves of the last words buck and eddie exchanged before the shooting. before the moment where everything changed.

eddie: should have gotten here sooner.

buck: nah, that kid's just lucky to have met you.

something about all those funny little sayings we have about love - right person, wrong time (abby?). right time, wrong person (ali?). wrong person, wrong time (taylor?).

(only took three tries to get it right.)

and then maybe, finally, when the timing is right, if you get a little lucky-

right time, right person. and so much love.

#eddie's time and buck's luck. it's a theme! i'm telling you! it is! and we don't talk about it enough!#911 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz

199 notes · View notes

froggibus · 2 years

Text

Daddy Issues - Soldier 76

Pairing: Soldier 76 x reader

Genre: fluff but its a lil suggestive

Word Count: too many for this prompt 1.5k

Summary: in which your little crush on the Commander doesn't go unnoticed, and he wants to see just how far he can push you

CW: young! Soldier, Overwatch days, reader is shy + gets flustered easily, fainting, teasing, Soldier is a bastard

reader is described GN but is described to be blushing/having red cheeks a lot! i know this description may not fit everyone so i am putting this here to not waste time/ruin the immersion!

ok anyway im too lazy to write today so you guys can have my drafts lmao anyway enjoy <3 i am very down bad for this man anyway

————

John Francis “Jack” Morrison: super soldier, Overwatch commander, the best of the best, and unfortunately for you, a total DILF.

The man was gorgeous. Despite working closely with him and Overwatch for years, you still couldn’t even look at him without getting flustered. Stuttered words and red cheeks had become a staple of your conversations with Jack, and all you could do was pray he didn’t notice.

Unbeknownst to you, it was common knowledge among the other agents of your little crush on the Commander. Jack himself had always found it somewhat cute regardless of the teasing he received from Ana and Reyes, and found himself wondering how much it would take to push you past the breaking point.

“L/n,” Jack’s voice boomed, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You squeaked, the tips of your ears burning, and approached him. You were painfully aware of the looks the two of you were receiving along the way.

“W-what’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you’d be open to taking on a mission next weekend.”

“Oh,” you looked everywhere but his eyes, trying to hide the desperate flush on your face. “I-I can for sure. Who’s all going?”

“It would just be you and I.”

If your face was burning before, it was an inferno now. A mission, all alone with Commander Morrison?

“I-I…”

“Come on, y/n,” he rested a hand on your shoulder.

His touch on your shoulder and the way he was looking at you sent butterflies to your stomach. You stuttered out a bunch of words that essentially meant ‘yes’, and that was good enough for the Commander. You walked away quickly, covering the lower half of your face with your hand.

Ana Amari laughed, “come on, Jack. Give y/n a break.”

“Mind your business,” the Commander said, but even he knew he was pushing you a little hard.

—

It was the dead of night, and you were yet to sleep. It had been too hot and then too cold, and then your mind could not stop racing. Thoughts of Jack and the mission filled your head.

As soon as the clock ticked to 2:22am, you found yourself rolling out of bed and slipping your feet into your slippers. You tiptoed your way down the hall, being careful not to wake any of the other agents. You knew how skittish they could be, especially in the dead of night.

You made it to the kitchen and turned on the kettle, sitting at the counter and waiting for it to boil. Soft footsteps behind you made you whip your head around, your eyes settling on Jack.

You immediately flushed at what he was wearing. A pair of grey sweatpants, no shirt and bunny slippers. You couldn’t help but look at his bare chest. He was all shredded muscles and perfectly carved abs. Duh, he’s a super soldier, you thought.

“What are you still doing awake?” He asked, your eyes flicking up to meet his.

“I-I could ask you the same thing.”

He shot a glance at the steaming kettle, “couldn’t sleep, I guess.”

“Same here,” you nodded, your gaze once again slipping to his bare stomach.

He smirked, knowing full well where your gaze was. The words tumbled out before he could stop them, “like what you see?”

You instantly hid your face in your hands, trying to avoid looking at him. Jack cursed himself—he was normally so composed, so in control of himself. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Jack!” You squealed, voice going up an octave.

He laughed slightly, “hey, I’m just teasing.”

He wanted to say that he also liked what he saw, but he thought that was a little too far given your current state. Still, he thought you looked gorgeous. In your pyjamas, hair a complete mess, looking all sleepy and cute.

“S-still,” you mumbled, finally peeling your hands away from your face. You grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set a teabag in it, “I’m too tired for this.”

Jack backed off for now, deciding to give you a reprieve you from his teasing. The image of you all flustered and trying to hide your face was burned into his mind, and it would suffice for tonight.

—

Combat training was your favorite part of the week, making every Monday somewhat bearable. Usually, you would pair off with Ana or Angela, given they were around the same skill level as you.

Today, though, Morrison had claimed you before you could even say anything. As soon as he announced the two of you would be partners, your face was pink tinted and all thoughts left your brain.

“So, what do you want to work on first?” Jack stretched his shoulders. He was wearing a pair of track pants and a tight blue Overwatch shirt that clung to his abs.

Memories of the other night in the kitchen filled your brain, setting a fire inside you. “I could use s-self defense practice,” you admitted.

“Okay, I have a few ideas then.”

Before you knew it, he was positioned behind you, grabbing your hips tightly. He tugged you towards him slightly, your hips slamming against his. You let out a soft whine, instantly pressing a hand over your mouth.

Jack mumbled in your ear, “too much for you?”

You shook your head quickly, grateful that he couldn’t see how hot and sweaty your face was. “I-I can keep g-going,” your voice was an octave higher.

You tried to focus on anything but the pressure of his hips against yours, his hard chest on your back, his warm hands on your hips.

“Okay,” he said and moved an arm up to around your shoulders, and stretched the other around your waist. “So if I were to do this, what would you do?”

He gripped you tight enough to pick you up off of the ground. His touch was so intense it was hard to concentrate, taking you a minute before you could remember the steps.

You twisted in his grip, ducking under the arm on your shoulder and using it as leverage to turn him around. You held it tightly behind his back.

“Good, really good,” his praise made you flush, “but you have to be faster than that in the field.”

In an instant, he broke free of your grip and threw you over his shoulder. He tossed you into the ground, cradling the back of your head and the small of your back as he did to break your fall. You landed with a soft groan, Jack on top of you.

His face was only a few inches from yours, a smirk plastered on his face. Your heart raced in your chest, hammering against your rib cage. The blood rushed to your face. There was no way he didn’t notice how flustered you were.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered,” he noted.

Blood roared in your ears. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to move your hands to cover your face, but he was holding them down.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tsked. “Why are you trying to hide from me?”

You shook your head, eyes still closed. “I-I’m not.”

“Then why can’t you look at me?”

“Cause you’re so close to me!”

He laughed, letting go of your hands, “I thought you’d like this position.”

That was your breaking point. Your heart raced faster, so fast it was almost painful, and your breath caught in your throat. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t breathe. Your skin was unbearably hot, as if it would melt off your bones any second.

“Y/n?” Jack backed off, “are you okay?”

He blinked at you, waiting for you to respond. When you didn’t, he completely got off of you. You managed to take in one, gasping breath before everything went dark.

—

You woke up in the infirmary, a blanket wrapped around you. Your head spun, and when you opened your eyes, there were four Jack’s sitting on the end of your bed. You blinked a few times, and all but one of them disappeared.

Jack was staring at you with a mix of caution and excitement. “How are you feeling?”

“G-good, I think.”

“Good,” he sighs in relief. “Ana would have killed me if you weren’t.”

“What even happened?”

“You fainted,” he said. “I’ve never seen anyone get so flustered from sparring before.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “you’re a jerk. I know what you’ve been doing—and it’s mean!”

“It’s not my fault you look so cute when you’re embarrassed!”

Your face flushed again, and Jack looked at you cautiously. “You’re not going to faint again, are you?” He asked.

“I-I don’t think so, why?”

“Because I can’t kiss you if you pass out.”

Your face burned, but your heart still beat normally. “Y-you really want to kiss me?”

He answered by cupping your cheek and closing the distance between the two of you. His lips smashed against yours, sending electric shocks down your spine. You moved against him and tangled a hand in his hair.

“You’re sure you’re not going to pass out?”

You tugged on his shirt, “shut up,” and kissed him again.

#overwatch 2 #overwatch #ow2 #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch fic #ow #xreader #overwatch headcanons #soldier 76 #soldier 76 x reader #soldier 76 x you #jack morrison #jack morrison x you #jack Morrison x reader

305 notes · View notes

little-bisexual-intern · 16 days

Text

hi i need to vent real quick sorry

today my “best friend” (i consider her mine but im pretty sure she barely even thinks of me as a friend at all) told me that she lost her virginity (would not tell me when or with who but that’s not really relevant to why i’m upset) and i was excited for her and she told me the story and i was like YIPPEEEE GOOD FOR YOU but then as soon as she was gone i just started spiraling and i’ve been thinking nonstop for like four hours about how jealous i am of her.

i know i’m probably an asshole for thinking like that but she’s basically everything i want to be but cant. she’s pretty, smart, has a lot of friends, a ton of guys want her, she has a perfect body type, and i’ve tried to just be happy for her and not be a dick but it’s SO HARD when i’m none of those things and that’s all i’ve ever tried to achieve, but despite trying so so so hard my whole life im stuck with way below average looks, too tall, i weigh too much, im dumb, i have no real friends, the only guys who have ever been interested in me were terrible, and i just constantly feel like there’s something inherently wrong with me that prevents me from talking to other people and making and keeping friends and being happy in general. like i haven’t been outright bullied very much but i get treated pretty badly in general and im so fucking sick of it.

even if i wanted to have sex, i cant. i absolutely wouldn’t be opposed to it if it was the right person. i think about it pretty often, and it’s just something i want so bad. but there’s the problem of finding someone who would even want to have sex with me in the first place (impossible) and who isn’t the absolute scum of the earth (double impossible)

and it’s not even just about boys, either. i have no actual fucking friends. anyone i say is my friend really isn’t, they’re just school friends who don’t care about me at all. there’s a friend group that i say im in, but im not. im not in the group chat, i dont get invited to hangouts, and when they talk about the group they say “the five of us” even though there are six people in the group including me. a lot of times when i talk, they just flat out ignore me or give short ass responses and then talk about themselves.

idk i know that no one is gonna read this whole thing and nobody gives a fuck but i just feel so unlovable and i have my entire life and im sick of living like this. i genuinely hate my life so much, my family doesn’t care about me, i’ve lost so so so many friends for no apparent reason and the ones i do have aren’t even my friends, the only boys i’ve ever dated have been complete assholes.

at lunch today one of my friends said “out of the five of us, who do you guys think would be most likely to get pregnant first?” and i wasn’t even and option. nobody could ever conceivable want me, and it was unspoken that it wasn’t even considered possible for me to have sex.

it’s like im always either a second choice or not even a choice at all. for once i just wanna be someone’s first option. i wanna be loved for the first time in my life.

#ana’s tumbles #vent post #personal #cw vent #tw sex mention #tw depressing thoughts #tw selfhate #tw rant

7 notes · View notes

lacrymatoryao3 · 6 months

Text

Redemption Was Just The Beginning

Chapter 10: January, 1900 (Continued)

[1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9]

To the world, Arthur Morgan is dead. As he tries to face the idea, in a lush valley in Ambarino he comes face to face with a woman from his past, and they must reckon with an era long gone. Especially when she has secrets of her own.

(Rated explicit simply because eventually there’s smut in this.)

Tag: @photo1030

2,304 Words (AO3 Link)

Arthur was left stewing in it, his conflicting feelings. Tidying up the house, working in the stables, even taking a damn nap. He couldn’t get it out of his head, the way the Sheriff spoke about Ana, and how it reared a possessiveness of her he wasn’t proud of. All because she told him she still loved him. In hindsight he saw it in the things she did for him in the past. She had patched up his wounds, worried about his safety and if he would even come back from his dangerous adventures. She had been the one who washed and mended his clothes, who kept him company at night. He was just blind and too much of a coward to let himself keep it in the moment.

Mary was the one Arthur had intended to marry, but Ana was the closest thing he had came to a wife. It felt odd to realize, but it was completely true. That led Arthur to wonder something. How much did he mix Mary and Ana Maria in his memories? Who did he really miss the most? He still did love Mary as well, but it started to seem different than it used to. He did fail her, like every time before, and she was right to want to move on from him. He said a silent prayer, a very rare action, that wherever Mary went after the last letter she sent to him that she was happy. He hoped she would find someone who is honest and good to her as she deserved. It didn’t hurt anymore that it wasn’t going to be him who provided it. A lot of weight of was lifted off his shoulders.

And then there was still Ana. Arthur wanted to love, to be loved, but part of himself wanted to convince her he wasn’t worth it no matter how badly he needed or desired it. He was incapable of seeing what she saw in him. He wished so desperately he could see the good in himself everyone else seemed to think was there. He couldn’t get over the thought he was never worthy of it. After everything he’d done, surely there had to be some punishment. That all went away when he looked at her, when he thought about her. He couldn’t bring himself to break her heart again. That was an even worse sin to him than every murder and robbery he ever committed.

Self doubt and hatred aside, Arthur got what he wanted. He was a father, bumbling and lost about it like every man probably was. He had a woman who loved him. The question was how to hold onto it instead of running away.

“For now I am a prisoner… in Still-water Jail I lie…” Arthur sang quietly to himself riding on Delfina, humming the parts he had forgotten, “For which I will be sorry… Til my dyin’ day…”

By the time he got to the school the children had already been let out. He knew something was wrong when the sounds of the children weren’t the usual ones they tended to have as he he drew nearer. Some were scared, some excited, but all crowded around the commotion in the front yard. Surrounded by their peers was Arthur Francisco and an older boy circling each other before taking swings like they were grown men. The older boy was taller and looked like he did a lot of farm work. Arthur Francisco, impressively, was able to hold his own against him.

Perhaps he should have let them fight it out, but he couldn’t stand the sight of poor Miss Svensson doing everything she could to separate them. She had taken hard tumble when the older boy got Arthur Francisco on the ground, striking him in the stomach. He didn’t get very many in, Arthur Francisco got the upper hand and grabbed him tightly around the neck and using his knees to roll on top of him. He kept one hand there, pummeling the boy with his other fist. He just kept punching him in the face over and over.

Everything happened so fast Arthur hadn’t fully registered what was happening when he jumped off Delfina and ran to them. He snatched Arthur Francisco from behind, wrapping his arms tightly around his waist and yanking him away as the child flailed against him.

“DON’T YOU EVER TALK ABOUT HER LIKE THAT AGAIN, MILLER!” Arthur Francisco hissed at his enemy, “IF YOU DO I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU!”

He could feel the rage emanating from him, his blue eyes burned like hellfire glaring at the older boy lying before him. Arthur finally and fully saw what Ana had repeatedly told him about their boy: himself. It was in that unmerciful and righteous anger.

“Like hell you will boy!” Arthur objected, putting Arthur Francisco firmly on his feet and grasping him hard on the shoulders, “You don’t talk to no one like that! You hear me?!”

The emotion hearing Arthur Francisco utter those words matched the boy’s own. The audience grew quiet and quickly dispersed, leaving only them, Miss Svensson who was standing and dusting herself off, and the Miller boy sitting defeated on bloody snow.

Arthur spun around, focusing some of his ire to him, “And you, what’s your excuse?! Ain’t you a little too old for this bullshit?!”

Miss Svensson shook her head and helped the Miller boy to his feet, “This happens frequently with Zachariah, I am afraid. Another letter for me to write now.”

“Well, don’t worry about this one.” Arthur huffed, gesturing to Arthur Francisco, “I’ll tell his mama and deal with what I can in the meantime.”

Miss Svensson took the Miller boy inside the school to tend to just injuries.

“What the hell happened anyway?” Arthur asked Arthur Francisco. It had to happen on his watch. As if the day hadn’t dragged on enough. He took a bandana out of his pocket, softly wiping Arthur Francisco’s face to see the damage. His lip was split and bleeding, bruises were already appearing around his left eye and jaw. Arthur had him open his mouth. No teeth where chipped, broken, or missing. He carefully prodded his stomach, checking for any signs of internal injury. The boy only told him it was sore and not painful. That too would be bruised for a while.

Arthur Francisco sighed, “Well… Jane was talking to some of the girls about the new baby. He went up to her and started asking her… not very nice things.”

Arthur nodded, “I can understand wantin’ to defend a girl, but don’t go around threatenin’. Because there comes a time where somebody takes you up on it, and you either become a coward or a killer. Or… you’re the one that gets killed. Me and your mama seen too many men go to an early grave for it. We want better for you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir. I just… Don’t understand why people are so hateful just because someone exists.”

Arthur put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, “There’s a lot of them out there, I fear. You just got to be better than they are.”

Arthur gathered their horses. He put Arthur Francisco onto Josefina and tied her reins to the horn of Delfina’s saddle. He led them through town, stopping at the butcher’s to buy some steaks for dinner before setting off home. He kept a close eye on the boy, but besides the darkening contusions on his face he didn’t show any signs of anything else.

“This isn’t the first time this has happened to me…” Arthur Francisco calmly protested, holding the steaks while Arthur put the horses in the stable by himself.

“Yeah, I know, but I want to make sure.” Arthur replied, “If something happened, your mama wouldn’t be afraid to beat me senseless. Now, go inside and put those in the ice box. I’m going to go beck of Mrs. O’Hogan.”

Approaching it, on the outside the O’Hogan’s gingerbread styled home was silent. Once he was at the front door, Arthur could hear the chaos that 5 children in one place could bring. He took off one of his gloves and knocked loudly so it could be heard over the commotion. Mr. O’Hogan stepped out, disheveled and with a big smile on his face.

“I hope we got some good news there!” Arthur greeted.

Mr. O’Hogan clasped him tightly on the shoulder, “We sure fuckin’ do! Little girl, 6 pounds! Both o’ ‘em as healthy as can be! Sent a cable ta the archdiocese in Saint Denis, see if we can get a priest ta come up an’ baptize her.”

O’Hogan let Arthur go, pulling a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lighting it with a match, “So, how about that row Little Arthur had? Heard he put a hell o’ a hurt on that Miller boy.”

“He’s pretty banged up his damn self. I have no idea how I’m going to tell Anie.” Arthur replied, “I just wanted to make sure everything went well with your wife and check how your daughter is doin’. That boy said some nasty things to her I was told.”

“Nothin’ about them Millers ain’t nasty!” O’Hogan replied, “Getting’ tired o’ it. I’m gonna start goin’ with ‘em ta school an’ back.”

“As long as you let our ladies come back.” Arthur said with a hint of humor, “Anyway, you have a good night, Owen. Glad you finally got your third girl! Let our ladies come home soon!”

Making dinner was a lot easier. Arthur knew how to cook a slab of meat, not in a pan but all it did was take slightly longer than holding it over a fire. The boy had enough experience in the kitchen to heat up a can of carrots. They kept a plate in the warming box for Ana. After cleaning up they spent time on the living room floor, drawing animals with the watercolors Arthur Francisco was given for Christmas. Arthur would sketch them out with a pencil, and the boy would paint them. Arthur shared the least traumatic stories about the things he saw over the years. They spent a lot of time talking.

Arthur got him ready for bed on time. He patted the boy lightly on the head, “Your mama should be home soon. She’ll probably check up on you because… Well, you know.”

“Yeah, she usually does.” Arthur Francisco said, “Good night, Arthur.”

Arthur got up and went to the door, “Good night, son.”

[*]-----[*]-----[*]-----[*]-----[*]

Ana closed the door quietly. She took off her jacket and shoes. Her hands went to her head as she tip toed into the kitchen, pulling out every pin until her hair was free. She was glad everything went well, and that it was over for another two or three years. The O’Hogans made it seem like this would be their last. With a couple like that, she wasn’t sure how long that vow would last.

Maybe if she had something like that, Ana might feel the same about it.

The counter was a note on a piece of torn paper. In Arthur’s fine handwriting was a line about leaving a plate from dinner for her. She hovered her hand over the stove. It was still quite hot. She opened the warming box to find it nearly as fresh as it was from the evening. He was always good when cooking a piece of meat.

She put it on the table, poured a glass of gin, and sat down to enjoy it. Arthur’s door creaked open. He stepped out and sat next to her.

“I hope I didn’t wake you.” Ana said.

Arthur shook his head, “No. I was actually up waitin’ for you. How’d everythin’ go?”

“Good! Of course, there’s always that time when things can be a little risky, but I think Rosaline and the baby will be just fine. How did it go with you and Arthur Francisco?”

“It went well… For the most part…” Arthur went quiet for a moment, “The boy got into a fight when school let out.”

Ana rolled her eyes, “I heard Stephen and Jane tell their father about it. How bad are his wounds this time?”

“He’s pretty banged up. He did worse to that Miller boy.”

“I’m not surprised.” Ana sighed, “Something has to be done about them, before things get worse. I have an idea. Maybe the father will consider it, if you’ll accompany me tomorrow.”

“I sure will. I’d like to see this hated man.”

After Ana ate she went up the stairs with Arthur following behind. She entered Arthur Francisco’s bedroom. The boy was sleeping soundly when she sat down at the edge of his bed, stroking his hair and scanning the bruises on his face. She sighed again and tucked his covers around him, kissing him on the temple before leaving.

Arthur waited for her in the hall. She patted him on the back, “Thank you for everything you did today. I imagine it wasn’t easy for you.”

He saw his chance. Before he his doubts got the better of him, he wrapped his arm around Ana’s waist and drew her to him. She let out a quiet yelp in surprise, but she didn’t pull away. He held her close to his body, her head coming to rest on his chest. He forgot how small she was compared to him, how wonderful it felt to have her pressed against him protectively in his arms. Her warmth filled a hole deep within his heart, one that had grown so accustomed to pain it almost burned. He never thought he’d feel like that again, where his heart raced, his face burned, his hands shook.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 posting #rdr #red dead redemption #arthur morgan fanfiction #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fandom #rdr2 fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #rdr2 community #red dead 2 #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption community #arthur morgan rdr2

18 notes · View notes

rainbowxocs · 3 months

Text

The Cultivators Demise.

by Angel and Morgan.

A big part of The Hospital's story was done between the two of us. So I decided to compile it together as a short story, this is one of my favorite climaxes I have ever written for one of my stories. I hope that you enjoy it. :)

Also jesus christ this is 33 pages long. Dear god we write a lot.

Some general TWS: Mentions of Child Abuse, Child Death, and other things of that nature.

After many, days? weeks? The two of them weren't sure anymore. Ana and Mouse were close to giving up after falling down into the depths of The Hospital. Ana felt extremely defeated, she had never even been outside of her section let alone the rest of this place, and now she was stuck. There weren't even any nurses to take her back to her room.

"So we gotta get to the place after the Ikea but before the quiz show? Do we have to like. Go backwards through everything we did?" Mouse said.

”I don’t know.. I mean.. We fell downwards into.. wherever we are.. Is there even a way to get back up?” Ana gripped onto her sweater tightly, slightly rocking back and forth. She began to mumble to herself. ”What if this is hopeless…”

"It's only hopeless if you give up, we can totally do this. Just gotta get where we need to go first!" Moira, Mouses... Dog? knocked into Ana affectionately. Ana sheepishly gave her a pat telling her she is a good.. thing, she's still not sure what a dog is.

Ana looks up to the ceiling before taking a deep breath. ”I guess.. we.. go up..?”

Mouse looked around, taking stock of their surroundings while Moira dug at the grass a little bit. Ana looked pensively at the ground before seeming to start walking in a random direction, the other two following close behind her, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious.

Ana knew from living here that all she needed to do was find a seam, if she could find the seam she could find a way out of this seemingly looping place. She held her hand out and seemed to glitch her hand through a “wall”, causing her to fall forward.

Mouse and the hound exchanged a glance and then followed through after Ana. Mouse tumbled and nearly face planted as she came through. Moira landed gracefully, but seemed to have more of an impact than a dog her size should.

"Well.. This is worse.." Ana sighed, softly bonking her head against the checkered floor.

""Uh- this is certainly something alright" Mouse said, standing up and lifting Ana off her feet. The ground began to freeze below them as Ana began to raise her voice. ”UGH! We’re just more lost than we were before-“

Mouse put a hand on Ana's shoulder. "Well. If there's pillars there's gotta be a roof and walls somewhere, right?" Ana, not seeming to get it glared at Mouse. ”So?“

"Gotta go up, right? Walls go up. I guess pillars do too. But I don't think I can climb those." Ana threw her hands up in the air in exasperation, moving away from Mouse. ”OH YEA- Sure! Let me just DEFY gravity real quick! This is hopeless- You can't keep acting like we will get out of this!” Ana stomped over to a pillar during her ranting, walking up the side as if gravity doesn’t affect her, she of course didn’t notice.

Mouse looked up at Ana and shook her head. ".. I'm going. To just accept this. Sure." Mouse walked up the pillar with Moira at her side ending up diagonal to Ana. Ana looked at them and then down before realizing her predicament. She gives a sheepish smile, and makes her way up the pillar with the two of them.

"Has. Has this been possible the whole time and we've just not tried? Or is it just this level?" Mouse questioned Ana, to which she just gave a simple shrug. Mouse noted it for later, and continued upwards.

The three of them walk up the pillar until the world flips upside down, the group beginning to walk on the ceiling, There was a door in the distance. Ana excitedly ran for it, opening the door and appearing in another room. She wilted at the sight of just another room.

”I’m so- tired- of this-“ Ana said.

"We're close. We can do this. " Mouse gave Ana a reassuring smile, before looking at the text scattered across the walls.

”We are just going around in a circle- We keep going around and around- how do we even know there’s an ex-“ Ana bumped into one of the walls, seeming to noclip through it, leaving Mouse in the room.

"I think the secret might just be to say what you want to happen cant happen and then be proven wrong?" She said to Moira, before following Ana.

Ana and Mouse finally made it back. Section 1 Floor 1 of The Hospital. Somewhere actually familiar. Mouse pulled out her axe and Ana picked herself up from the ground, looking around nervously. ”We.. did… it…?- this… feels too… easy..”

"Whoever's in charge of this place does want us to get caught, and this had the most.. "nurses" wandering around from what I saw. We're almost certainly walking into a trap" Mouse paused. "I Mean- we got this!" Mouse said.

Ana looked down, the room getting colder. ”I.. wish.. I knew what we were walking into.. I was never allowed down here..” Ana paused for a second, taking in the... silence...? The familiar whispering and humming of the walls was noticeably absent.

”Does.. it feel… quiet to you…” Ana said, turning to Mouse.

"Not to sound cliche but... I got a bad feeling about this. Be ready to bolt." Moira seemed to grow larger than she was before. and? Mouse put? an earbud in?

Ana seemingly distracted, rubbed her hand across the yellow colored walls. ”…..I… can’t.. hear the walls… They.. aren’t talking…. I.. don’t think they’ve.. ever shut up before..”

"Maybe they're napping." She smirked. " Let's wake em up. get ready to run." Mouse's posture shifted, she flipped the hatchet in her hand and raised her other hand to her mouth, letting out a shrill NYC Taxi-Cab whistle.

”IS IT A GOOD IDEA TO ANNOUNCE OUR POS-“ There was a slight rumbling noise before hundreds upon thousands of hands start to break out of the walls, trying to grab Ana and Mouse. The alarms blaring in their ears.

Everything happened so fast. Mouse grabbed Ana's hand and bolted down the nearest hallway, Moira hot on their heels. They darted down hallways and through open rooms, Mouse seemed to change direction at random. There didn't seem to be any pattern to her movements, and if she actually had any idea on where to go or the layout of this place the three of them would have a good shot at making it. But every hallway looks the same, and every wall seems to have been replaced with a writhing mass of arms reaching for them. Eventually they round the wrong corner-

And something or Someone? grabbed them both, before either of the girls could react they seemed to be pulled upwards through the ceiling and thrown into some sort of black circular room, the hands were gone and the force let’s them go. Ana probably suffering from a concussion from the fall but it’s probably fine, They both tried to move but Ana and Mouse were restrained by some sort of vine. Through their blurry vision they could see a desk in the middle, and the infamous woman they had been looking for sitting at it. Nurse Camilla, Head Nurse of the Hospital.

”You both have allot of fucking nerve with the stunt you pulled.” Camilla said, glaring daggers into the two girls. Ana stared at her “mother” speechlessly, just, staring, and shaking.

Mouse scoffed. "Oh no, a woman." Mouse had a very good poker face, she had the confidence of someone with 5 aces. But also probably just trying to pull attention away from Ana.

Camilla put her hands together, resting her chin upon them, staring at Mouse. The two girls restraints tighten, before Daisy walked out from the behind of the two girls, she stood behind Camilla like a good little solider and glared at the two of them. Camilla focused in on Mouse, staring at her. ”Who are you… You are not a patient here.. You have no reason to be here..”

Mouse pretends to not notice the tightened restraints. "I have several reasons to be here actually. I think my dog isn't a dog, and I heard there's a hospital around here who specializes in that kind of thing. Of course I only want the highest quality doctors, what nursing school did you attend by the way?"

”Cut the bullshit. I’m not here to play games with you, explain yourself.” Camilla said, losing her temper a little bit.

"I know lots of things, and sometimes I tell people what they think they want to know. I've got some cool tricks, but I'm not really anything all that special. Kind of like you, huh? Just a person who got caught up in all of this?" Mouse said.

”In a way yes.” Camilla sighed and pinched her bridge of her nose. ”I’m losing focus. This isn’t about you... We will send you to wherever you come from, you do not belong here with the others..”

Mouse grimaced a bit. "Uh yeah good luck with that, sure. What makes someone belong here? i've only met like one decent person this whole time."

”You aren’t sick. You don’t need to be here.” Camilla said dismissively.

"Oh really? That's impressive since i've never been to a doctor. Except for that elf- but he doesn't count he was just trying to get information on the resistance." Mouse said, completely seriously.

”Wh-…." Camilla blinked. "Okay yknow we don’t have time to unpack all of that. The point I am trying to make is, We will send you home and you can forget any of this ever happened. It will just be a bad dream.“

"This is considerably better than where I was the last like, four times. not completely though, the hand-walls are not my favorite aesthetic. " Mouse said, before Daisy chimed in. ”They’re not USUALLY hand walls. You guys just made the walls mad.” She said, coldly.

”Shut up Daisy- Just-" Camilla took a deep breath. "Where do you want to go and we will throw you there with some bus money or something.”

"I don't think you can reach where I want to go. And I'm not going without Ana." Despite her calm demeanor, she seemed relatively serious when she said that.

Camilla looked at Mouse with confusion. ”Ana..?” Daisy glitched a bit, before turning to Camilla. "She means.. Her.." Daisy said, pointing to Ana to which Camilla began to laugh hysterically. ”You call that thing Ana? That’s not Ana-“ She said, laughing almost to the point of tears.

"Deadnaming is cringe. You're a bitch. multiple people can have the same name. I know like eight Camilla's" Camilla couldn't seem to stop laughing at Mouse's remarks. ”AHAHA. Oh my god it’s completely convinced you it’s a person, that’s honestly so hilarious.” She said, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Mouse leaned down, half whispering to Ana. "This lady thinks she's helping people? really? I know we're all the heroes of our own story but dehumanizing blatantly sentient creatures is just asking for an animal farm situation at LEAST."

Ana seemed completely out of it, dissociating from her "mothers" presence, ice seemed to be spreading across the floor at a rapid rate. Though Daisy and Camilla do not seem to notice.

”It is mimicking the exact behavior that it knows you would feel the most sympathy for. It mimicked my daughter for gods sake- It doesn’t have any shame in itself..” Camilla said, crossing her arms.

"That's called people pleasing, Cami. A lot of abuse victims do that. Kind of cringe of you to dehumanize neurodivergent traits. As far as i can tell you've just traumatized a bunch of people, and if they really are sick then that's just monstrous. Ironic, isn't it?" Mouse glared at Camilla.

Camilla sighed. ”I literally do not know how to explain to you that it is not a person- It cannot be neurodivergent, it cannot be abused, it’s just manipulating you. The real Ana has suffered so much because of that thing.“

Mouses eyes darkened. "You can abuse anything that's alive, that's why animal abuse is a criminal charge, so your point is nul on that front. and if i was to accept that Ana isn't a person despite everything, and you're right in your attitude towards this, how did your Ana get near this one? Because. that would be your fault for allowing your child to be in a dangerous situation. At minimum it's child neglect or reckless endangerment, which is the parent's fault. you don't leave your kid with an aggressive dog. You don't dehumanize a child and expect their powers not to act up. you've created this hell, it's on you. "

Camilla slammed her hands down on the table in front of her, standing up. ”I didn’t create this place- And Ana wa-… is.. was.. I don’t know anymore with her. A… troubled child.. I didn’t even realize what she had done until it was too late-" Daisy shivered at that, though she couldn't tell if it was Camilla's words or if the room had gotten colder.

"Neglecting a neurodivergent child? Gotcha. This is definitely not your fault, it's gotta be the other responsible adult whose job is looking after their child. What did your kid do, exactly? Because if Ana is copying her, and displaying hypothermia symptoms, then did you let your kid freeze to death or some shit? And maybe you didn't create this place, but someone sure as hell chained it and all signs point to you. Do you know what happens when you chain wild magic? When you cage something destined to be free? Do you know what you're fucking with on any level? you clearly didn't even know how to handle one kid, how can you manage this place? Dumb bitch" Mouse covertly glanced at Ana, and then at Moira. Moira struggled against the force of her bonds.

Camilla paused, Mouses words seemingly stabbing her like a dagger. ”Ana didn’t- I. I have done.. so much for her... I did all of this for her I sacrificed everything for her- Don’t you dare try to tell me about wild magic, you have no idea what it’s like for your child to be stolen away like that- You don't know what I have had to endure."

Mouse sneered at that. "Oh poor you. You had a kid and a shot at a happy family and ruined it for power, I'm so sorry for you. Out of the two of us, you're absolutely the one who has held a child as she bleeds to death. you're the one who tried to give the last of your warmth to the boy dying in the blizzard when you had nothing else to give. You are the one who has raised five children when you didn't have enough to feed yourself. YOU are the person who found a half dead baby in a garbage bag and made sure it survived. And I guess that makes me the one who was so busy creating a "Perfect World" i didn't have time to make sure the person I was responsible for was safe."

Camilla looked like a deer in the headlights. ”I-“ Before Camilla could speak the whole room turned into ice and snow, Ana had broken out of her restraints, She breathed heavily before locking eyes with her "Mother". She lunged towards her but Camilla dodged, putting Daisy between her and Ana and escaping into a staff hallway.

Moira lunged from her restraints, her form shifts as she moved and a black dragon stood in her place, puffing a bit of fire to melt the ground just below Mouse as she falls to the ground, so she wouldn't slip. Mouse is moving the second she hits the ground, heading for the door Camilla just went through, before pausing for just a moment and taking stock of the room. "Ana, are you good to chase? Daisy, are you okay?"

Daisy blocked the door, reaching into her pockets and pulling out her knives. She stared daggers into the two girls, or at least she would be if you could actually see her eyes. Ana cowered at Daisy's gaze, cowering backwards behind Moira, her gaze was transfixed on Daisy.

Daisy seemingly glitches in and out. The room seemingly filling with static feeling. "Oh.. So you recognize me?"

"Yeah. Took me a while to get back here, sorry about that. It seems someone was blocking me. Moira, warm up Ana for me." Mouse said. Ana seemingly snapping out of her trance, fell to her knees, shivering violently. "cold-" Moira, gently slipped up behind Ana and blew fire on the ground in front of her. Not hot enough to burn her, but the heat reflecting off the dragons scales warmed her from both sides.

Ana snuggled up to Moira appreciating the warmth she provided, however the whole scene seemed to make Daisy even more distorted than she already was. Daisy’s mask seemed to shift between a number of different emotions in quick succession. "Well. I will let bygones be bygones. As long as you leave here.. NOW..."

Mouse shrugged. "Sorry, I don't think I can do that. I've got a better handle on this stuff now, I don't think I'll get disconnected again. You two are in a bit of hot water and I need to finish my confrontation with Camilla."

Daisy’s form appeared to distort and crack, slowly elongating and turning into a monster like creature. Except it’s- wrong- it’s glitchy and absolutely covered in fungus. It’s like there was a rendering error except in real life. ”I am not going to let you ruin this for me..”

Mouse seemed to be glancing at the mushrooms sprouting from Daisy. "Daisy, you are as much the victim here as Ana is. I promised I would never lie to you. I am here to fix this. You might not like it at first, but everything about this place is wrong. I made a mistake last time, I thought I had enough time to help you. I am not making that mistake again."

Daisy began to laugh maniacally. ”Help me? I don’t need YOUR help. This is MY paradise. Everything was perfect until YOU showed up again- I thought you leaving me was bad enough but now you are taking the only bit of happiness I have left-“

"I am sorry I left. I don't have control over that shit, not much anyways. But your paradise is hurting other people. Can you honestly tell me you're still in control of your paradise? You've been exploited and hurt more than any child deserves, and I would like to talk to Camilla about this-" Mouse was cut off by a large crack forming in the walls and floor behind Daisy.

”I AM IN CONTROL” She screamed. ”I am NOT going to let you take this away from me. You’ll have to pry this from my CORPSE.”

"I am sorry for this then." Mouse bolted forward, faking one way then the other to get past Daisy. Daisy completely transformed into some sort of monstrous form, Daisy is gone, her mind is completely gone.

”I WILL KILL YOU, YOU RUINED EVERYTHING.” She blocked Mouse from the doorway and began to try and slash at her with her knives. The hatchet is back in Mouse's hand, and there's a long dagger in the other. They're both simple iron tools with silver engravings on them. But they will work for this.

"Okay then-" She ducked under one of Daisy's knives and slashed at a mushroom. That part of Daisy went back to normal, which seemed to make Daisy angrier. She slashed at Mouse wildly, not seeming to have much control over her body. "WHY DID YOU HAVE TO COME BACK?" Daisy made a low growling noise as her form shifted slightly, trying to grab at Mouse.

"Because I was not going to leave you to suffer again!" Mouse started moving around, dodging and weaving and lashing out to slash at mushrooms at every opportunity.

"YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHATS ON THE LINE FOR ME. I HATE YOU. THIS ISN’T FAIR. NONE OF THIS IS FAIR" Daisy attempted to trap mouse, however Mouse was too quick to be caught.

"I KNOW ITS NOT FAIR. IT'S ALSO NOT YOUR FAULT!" Mouse said, cutting off another mushroom.

Daisy began to cry, but she tried to hide it, her attacks seemed more and more desperate as she went on. "DON'T ACT LIKE YOU CARE ABOUT ME! YOU LOVE HER NOW!! EVERYONE LOVES HER!! EVERYONE IS SUPPOSED TO LOVE ME!! SHE NEEDS TO GO BACK IN HER BOX AND STAY THERE!!"

"WHY?" Slash.

"BECAUSE I HATE HER!" Stab.

"WHY?" Slash.

"BECAUSE SHE SHOULD HAVE TO GO THROUGH WHAT I WENT THROUGH- SHE SHOULDN'T GET TO ESCAPE- SHE SHOULDN'T GET TO COPY ME AND GET A GOOD LIFE-" Daisy screamed.

"MAYBE NEITHER OF YOU SHOULD HAVE TO GO THROUGH WHAT YOU WENT THROUGH?" Mouse said, quite desperately.

Daisy paused for a second, before attacking her harder. ”IT.. IT.. SHUT UP!! JUST SHUT UP!! SHUT UP!! SHUT UP!! DON'T BE NICE TO ME!! DON'T EMPATHIZE WITH ME”

"YOU ARE LITERALLY A CHILD, I WILL NOT TEAR YOU DOWN TO MAKE MYSELF MORE POWERFUL. THATS THE BARE FUCKING MINIMUM." Mouse cut off another mushroom, Daisy's form slowly began to turn to normal. Though she was still as violent as ever.

”I AM NOT A CHILD ANYMORE, I AM A GOD!" Daisy seemed to not notice how much of the fungus is now gone. She is so tired. She is so tired of all of this. of being a God.

"YOU NEED TO REST." Mouse said, cutting off yet another mushroom. Daisy wobbled a bit, she was using WAY too much of her powers, the world kept distorting in and out, you could practically feel the static.

Daisy stomped her feet, pulling at her hair in distress. "WHY DOESN'T ANYONE SAVE ME- WHY DOESN'T ANYONE HELP ME- I JUST- I NEED HELP- WHY DOES SHE GET WHAT THAT- WHY DOES SHE GET TO BE SAVED BUT I DON'T??"

"I." Slash "AM." Slash "HERE." Slash "TO SAVE" Slash "YOU BOTH!" And with that, the final mushroom fell to the floor.

Daisy shook a little before falling onto the ground, crying, She looked almost wilted, like a flower. ”I-IF.. If I don’t have this.. I’m- I’m nothing- This is the only way I can make everyone stay-“

Mouse dropped to the ground next to her. She is somehow almost entirely unharmed, even after that fight. She pulled Daisy into a hug. "The people who matter will stay anyways. I will stay here as long as I can. And now, I know how to come back."

Daisy began to full on sob, as she hugged Mouse, gripping her fingers into her back. ”I-I’m sorry… I don’t know why I did this… I’m so sorry…”

"This wasn't your fault. This was the Cultivator. and Camilla." Mouse took a deep breath. "I'm going to go. have a confrontation. with those two. Can you and Ana stay with Moira for now? I will come back."

Daisy seemed a bit reluctant but let go of Mouse, sniffling. ”..Mom most likely went to go and warn him.. He’s on the top floor of the staff hallway.. if you take the elevator you will find them..."

Mouse gave Daisy another really tight squeeze, before leaning back slightly and reaching into her pocket to give Daisy a stone with.. a symbol? written on it. "This is my promise that I will come back to you, Okay? It'll take a lot more than some eldritch deity to take me down for the count."

Daisy looked at the stone in awe, before looking back up at Mouse. ”Y..you’re going to come back..?”

Mouse smiled at Daisy. "Definitely. There is a chance I will get pulled from here again.. I am dealing with some bad people of my own and they keep sending me places and pulling me back. But if you have that, I can pull myself here again. Especially if you call me. unless I die or whatever but so far nothing has been able to manage that."

Daisy pulled the stone close to her chest and nodded. ”Okay.. I’ll.. trust you…”

Mouse nodded. "Okay. I will be right back. I'm going to fix this." Mouse stood up, and as she does so something about her seems to change. where she was compassionate and casual before, is now hard lines and harsh eyes. She popped an earbud in and walked towards the door.

Mouse made it down the hallway, entering the elevator and pressing the top button. After several minutes of waiting she produced a wooden flute, making her own elevator music as she waited. Now that she knows the full extent of The Cultivator and Camilla's cruelty, there was a certainty in her movements. When the elevator door opened, Mouse stepped out to what appeared to be a moving train. This place has so many OSHA violations it is insane. The train is filled to the brim with flowers and mushrooms, you couldn’t see out the windows even if you tried.

"This is very reversed from most situations I've been in. Usually people are chasing me into weird situations." Mouse picked her way through the train, her soft-booted feet silent on the petals. She glanced out the windows, half expecting something to burst through a window.

Like most places in The Hospital, the train feels infinite. The further you go in the colder and more dead it feels. The train slowly became more glitchy and with a purple hue to it, until she reaches the end. Inside the conductors chamber a VERY tall figure stands, He is vaguely humanoid but his form is just- wrong there’s so many eyes and so many hands- He appears to be speaking with Camilla before cracking his neck towards Mouse.

"Oh, It's you. Welcome back." The Cultivator, the one and only stands before Mouse. Mouse's poker face is impressive. There seemed to be a spark of something in her eyes, and her lips are quirked into a smirk, there's a complete confidence about her but it feels. Practiced. A mask to hide behind. She picked a set of eyes to meet and gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, otherwise saying nothing.

"I.. apologize, for all the inconvenienced my staff has caused you." The Cultivator stretched out an arm and his arm began to move around the room, grabbing a tea set. "Can I offer you some tea?"

"I had a big breakfast- or lunch- it's hard to tell around here." She murmured, not wanting to take food from a weird entity, there are always strings attached to this kind of shit.

"Ah, what a shame." He seemed... disappointed? For a moment before snapping back to pleasantries. The Cultivator handed the tea set to Camilla. Who seemed hesitant to go and put it back up because of needing to go near Mouse. "Well I will send you on your way then. You must have come all this way to go home, right?"

"Actually I wanted to finish the confrontation I was having with Camilla. we were interrupted because she gave her child a panic attack and ran away." Mouse said, casually. Camilla's eyes seemed to dart between the girl and the creature.

The cultivator... smiles..? "Oh now Camilla, why do you always do that? Tsk... Humans and their silly emotions..." He claps his hands together. "Well there is no need to fight. I am sure we can resolve this issue peacefully."

"Oh this is not emotional. You see Camilla has broken most human laws pertaining to child abuse and endangerment and is impersonating a nurse while she holds no medical license so even though child abuse makes me furious, that has no impact on the objective crimes she has committed in her search for power." Mouse said.

The Cultivator chuckled. "Aw cmon now. Let's be serious. That's a bit of an over exaggeration no?"

"It fascinates me how far people are willing to go to gloss over child abuse sometimes." Mouse crossed her arms.

The Cultivator put his hands up defensively. "Hey, I just work here. It's not like I created the rules or anything."

Mouse looked at the creature coldly. "That doesn't really affect the fact that Camilla has dehumanized her child to the fact that her child doesn't know their own goddamn name. Also, nobody has been able to explain to me what your "patients" are sick with."

"They're just..." The Cultivator spun his hands around, seeming to try and find an explanation. "sick"..."

"Mentally or physically?" Mouse questioned. "Is it a contagious disease? if so no one is using the proper equipment. give me a name for the illness or some proof that it exists beyond people not fitting the mold you think they should."

The Cultivator sighed, crossing one of his sets of arms. "Aw cmon, don't be like that."

Mouse shrugged. "It's a simple question, how can you run a 'Hospital" and not know what the name of the illness is?"

The Cultivator paused. "This isn't really a "Hospital", You should already know that by now no?"

"This is a unique realm, I'm simply using the only name i have for it. No one here is actually sick are they? Except whatever that fungus is doing." Mouse said.

The Cultivator shrugged. "Well, no. Not in the human sense anyway. There's no influenza running about or anything."

"I haven't seen any recognizable magical illnesses either. and if it's a mental thing, this is the opposite of how you manage that shit. I'm shocked Camilla's kid hasn't committed suicide or something by now, this is a fucked way to live. I've seen dogs taken from owners that were being treated better than the living people of this realm." Mouse spat.

The Cultivator laughs, though it’s a bit distorted. "Why would Ana do such a thing? She wanted all of this. This is her paradise."

"Which Ana? the one who you were referring to by a number and just had a mental breakdown because she doesn't know who she is anymore? or the one who imprinted on a child dying of hypothermia and has been suffering ever since?" Mouse glances at Camilla "have you ever had Hypothermia? It feels like your bones have turned to ice. your eyelashes freeze and blinking hurts. breathing hurts, touching something warmer than ice feels like touching a hot iron. it's suffering. and if you say my Ana is just mimicking your daughter, then your daughter must have gone through that. How old was she when that happened?"

”It was an accident- I didn’t mean for her to escape like th-“ The Cultivator cut Camilla off. "The Real Ana, is fine. She is just going through some... growing pains... So to speak. It's nothing of concern."

"See if your child has to escape there's already some cause for concern. Did you expect her to stay a child forever? That's a goddamn teenager. she's going to rebel and turn into her own person. you're job is to support that, not force her into a mold. actually, i feel like forcing things into molds to be the way you want them to is a big theme around here, isn't it. and somehow, you think that is what a child wanted years ago." Mouse said.

"Ana begged me to create this place. I don't think she is as unwilling of a participant as you think she is." The Cultivator walks over and plucks up a Rhodotus mushroom. "She came to me when she was dying, and I saved her. I gave her everything she could ever possibly want. I gave her parents, friends, a place to grow up."

"What of everyone else who lives here? Why do the walls scream?" Mouse questioned.

"Eh. Minor side effect. This world is not meant to be controlled. But it makes the child happy." He fidgets with the mushroom in his hands. "She is mine after all, I have to keep her happy."

Mouse eyes the mushroom suspiciously. That fungus stuff hasn't been a positive to anything it's interacted with. "You've got to understand that that sounds really bad. That's supervillain shit to say."

The Cultivator… frowns…? "That's not very nice. I think I am quite helpful."

"You are very helpful, Cultivator. I understand more than I did before." Mouse seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. and then she met the Cultivator's eyes again. ".... You know.... A friend of mine had some pretty shitty parents. They looked happy on the outside, going for ice cream and doing all the family outing stuff... but they really did not like each other. they kept their child around for selfish reasons, and hurt her when no one was looking so she would stay in line... There are a lot of people who hurt for their own reasons, and any bad that happens from it is considered. well. a 'minor side effect'"

"Hm? Is that so?" The Cultivator seemed to be playing with the mushroom now. "You seem to be very passionate about this sort of thing. I can commend you for that."

"I do my research. I dislike watching people suffer." Mouse still had the same casual calculated air about her, but her eyes kept darting around the room, taking in every detail, regularly focusing on the pink Mushroom. A faint sound of Discord by The Living Tombstone playing from the earbuds hanging around her neck.

The air in the room shifts, as The Cultivator seems to drop his mask just a little. "So, What is your plan then little mouse?" The Cultivator plucks another mushroom, this one being an Inkcap, and begins to juggle them. "How do you plan on being the big strong hero hm? Because even though I do commend your efforts in other universes, I am in possession of not only Ana's soul, but your little mimic friends as well."

The Cultivator smirks. "Every living being here, belongs to me. Besides you. So, what is your grand master plan hm?"

"Universes, realms, planes, they all blend together. I can't do much. just human, after all. just two or three little things." Almost absently Mouse plucked a mushroom off of a nearby window frame.

The Cultivators demeanor seemed to darken. "I think you should run back home, Little Mouse. Your friends are fine here."

"They aren't fine. They are surviving. there is a difference." Mouse paced, as if deep in thought. some emotion was showing in her eyes now. is the mask cracking? her pacing brought her nearer to Camilla.

"Hm, well. In my opinion surviving is a lot better than freezing to death." The Cultivator said. Camilla began to look back and forth between her boyfriend and Mouse, she seemed to not want to be here.

"Surviving is okay. it's what you have to do when you're in trouble. Living is even better. it's what people are made to do." Mouse carefully perched the mushroom on one of the weird train levers.

The Cultivator stepped a bit closer to Mouse, attempting to tower over her. "I am not your enemy, you know... All I want to do is protect you from all this mess..."

"I dislike liars. What do you think, Camilla?" While talking and fidgeting with the mushrooms, Mouse had gotten much closer to Camilla.

Camilla stepped back, it seemed like she was almost shaking a bit. ”I- Don’t know what you think you’re doing but you need to step back from me-“

Mouse shifted, as if she was trying to cut Camilla off from The Cultivator. Camilla, in a panic threw the tray she was holding at Mouse, however she missed and the glass shattered all over the floor.

The Cultivator lets out a huge sigh. "Oh my fucking god-" he took a deep breath before placing the mushrooms down and levitating all the broken glass. "This was my favorite tea set you know. It has lead in it so it leeches into the tea."

”But she-“ Camilla was cut off by The Cultivator waving his hand dismissively.

In an instant, Mouse darted forward and grabbed the soul-shrooms, putting them in one of her belt pouches. "Pleasure doin business with ya." Mouse said sarcastically before turning towards the door, as if to leave.

The Cultivator snapped his head back towards Mouse. "YOU BRAT" The Cultivator lunged towards Mouse and grabbed her with his sharp claws, before laughing at her. "DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD ESCAPE THAT EASILY?"

The belt vanished from her waist, along with the pouches and everything in them. "Oh we're yelling now? Mature. very mature." Mouse summoned her dagger and attempted to slash at his chest, which caused The Cultivator to laugh more. "YOU CANNOT KILL ME IN A WAY THAT MATTERS." When Mouse slashed at him, instead of blood just itty bitty mushrooms started pouring out of him. It seemed that he was the sickness this whole time.

"I'm going to take that as a challenge" She twisted in his grip, bringing an arm up and throwing a knife- at Camilla? Camilla, having been stabbed in the torso, stumbles for a moment before collapsing onto the floor. The Cultivator seemed to be actually stunned, not being able to process what the fuck just happened for a few seconds. Which allows Mouse to break free of the Cultivator's grasp, looking around for. Anything that kills mushrooms, probably.

On the floor, Mouse saw a lighter, if The Cultivator truly is a plant, maybe she can burn this fucker to the ground. Mouse's main role model was Firebird after all. She dived for the Lighter, rolling to her feet and sparking it, with that same poker face. This time it's a real flame that reflects in her eyes. She dropped the lighter in a patch of fungus, that caught and quickly spread to the pile at the Cultivator's feet from his wound. A pyre made from his own 'blood' set him alight.

Mouse paused before realizing what she did. "Wait fuck i just killed a mother-"

However, The Cultivators screams filled the room as he burnt alive. He screams in a language that Mouse didn't seem to understand until he and Camilla were nothing but a pile of ashes as the room went ablaze. When he dies, the room begins to glitch, Mouse could hear hundreds of voices loudly chanting until everything turned into light. When Mouse woke up from the light, she had been transported into a forest.

She looked around the serene forest. She grew up in dirty cities and back-alleys, but always loved the woods. It's very calm and quiet, and she sat in that tranquility for a moment. Before a girl emerging from the flowers broke her distraction. She looked human.. but also familiar.. It's Daisy...

”This.. This is where I died.. how.. How am I back..?” She mumbled to herself not realizing anyone was around. Mouse straightened, focusing on the girl. She took a step forward, purposefully stepping on a stick so her approach will be heard. "Daisy, are you alright?"

Daisy jumps, but then calms down after seeing Mouse. ”Oh.. It’s just you.. I..” Daisy looks down at herself, almost in confusion.. ”I.. don’t know.. I’m…" Daisy begins to laugh and cry at the same time. ”I guess I’m back in the real world now..”

Mouse sat beside Daisy, taking in the scenery. Mouse's belt reappeared at some point, and she reaches back into the pouch, drawing out the pink mushroom. "I think this belongs to you, doesn't it?"

Daisy seemed shocked, looking at the mushroom. "You.. have my soul..?" Daisy seems a bit speechless, staring at it. "I don't.. know if I deserve it back..."

Mouse frowned, holding Daisy's hands gently. "Daisy.. Souls are not something you earn, okay? This is yours, and it always has been. You've done so well in a very bad situation, okay? and anyways. Somebody needs to take care of it, right?"

Daisy thinks for a moment, before hesitantly taking the mushroom. It glows before flying back into her. Daisy puts a hand over her heart. The two of them sitting in the silence for a moment.

Daisy looked up at Mouse. "I don't know where I am going to go... It's not like I can go back home..."

"You can always make a new one." Mouse suggested.

Daisy sniffled, pulling knees up into her chest. ”I tried to make a new one and I made everything worse..”

Mouse sighed a little and nodded. "It's very hard to find a place to belong. sometimes we make everything worse. I think the trick is finding people who feel like home, and then finding a place together. I haven't found a place for me yet. Maybe I never will. but the people make the wandering worth it."

Daisy pondered what Mouse said for a moment. ”You’re really smart.. I wish.. I could be as smart as you..”

Moused laughed half-heartedly. "You've got time. I figured most of this stuff out a little too late. if you notice, my family isn't exactly here with me. Funny enough, it took a lot of alone time in a forest kind of like this for me to understand things this well."

Daisy laughed. "I think I've spent too much time in this forest... I still cannot believe I let myself make a deal with him... I was so stupid..."

Mouse frowned. "I think it's that guys fault for taking a kid- actually i don't have to finish that thought, technically I think you were coerced and kidnapped so none of this can fall on you. Did you know what you were even agreeing to in the moment?"

Daisy pauses... ”I.. don't know.. I remember when I escaped. It was so cold.. I was starving, and I kept wandering around the forest for ages, until I found him.." Daisy paused. "He told me that If I went with him. He would give me paradise."

Mouse paused. "Can I repeat that back to you? it might help you think a bit clearly on what happened." Daisy nodded a little, looking at Mouse intently.

"A strange man approached a ten year old who was about to die, offered her complete safety and everything she wanted, and then took her off to a place no one would be able to find her. Is that right? do you think that would be her fault?" Mouse explained, softly.

Daisy seemed to be a little shocked when Mouse explained it that way. ”…Well when you say It like that it sounds like those stranger danger PSAs I watched on Youtube..”

"Yeah, it does, Doesn't it? and all I did was repeat back what you told me." Mouse seems to be considering adding something else, debating on whether it would be a good idea or not.

Daisy looked down at the ground. ”He’s.. dead now.. right..?”

Mouse, hesitantly nodded. "Yeah. Honestly he was kind of. not strong. Dude had noodle arms. Really good at manipulation though."

Daisy chuckled, before a few more tears fell. ”Haha.. yea…” Daisy fidgeted with her sweater. ”Is.. my mom.." She paused. "Dead..? She.. always said she would die for him.. and he.. is dead.. so..”

Mouse hesitated. "I.... I did try to leave without fighting them.."

Daisy waved her hand dismissively. ”It’s okay.. She.." A few more tears fell. "That was always going to be the way.. she was probably going to go..” Daisy sniffled. ”She never would die for me.. but.. anyone else.. she would..”

Mouse, slowly pulled Daisy into a hug, comforting her. "I don't think she would have for anyone but him. It's. It's not your fault it was like this. I'm sorry I didn't do anything sooner."

Daisy laughed, solemnly. ”Mm.. it kind of is.. I think everyone was right about me... I am evil...”

"You had to escape your own home.. that implies you weren't safe or comfortable there. then you were picked up by an actual demon and trapped for years. I think you deserve some rebellion, as a treat" Mouse said.

Daisy smiled, snuggling into Mouse. "Maybe..."

There was a rustling coming from the brush, Ana made her way through the trees, batting away the leaves and walking towards the two of them. ”Why are there so many trees-“ Ana looked exactly the same as she did in the hospital, unlike Daisy. Moira, still in dragon form, is behind Ana. despite her large form, it's easy to lose track of her as she moves silently through the woods.

Mouse smiled. "That's what happens when you're in a forest, usually. You okay Ana?"

”I'm fine I think- My head hurts but it's-” Ana seemed to finally notice the girl in Mouse's arms. ”Oh.. It's.. You..”

Daisy seemed to shuffle awkwardly. "Hi..."

"Have you and Daisy formally met?" Mouse is a little shit and was fully aware that the two were on very... awkward terms.

Ana crossed her arms. ”Yes.. we have… met before…”

”She’s the amazing Ana… how could anyone forget her…” Daisy looked away from her. You could cut the tension with a knife.

"I always kind of wanted a sister. Like a real one I could fight with and then be friends again by the end of the day. someone who was actually on the same level as me and lived the same experiences, but i didn't have to raise because we were in the same boat. but that's just me I guess" Mouse said. Ana and Daisy seem to both look at Mouse in confusion.

”I don’t know.. if we could be considered sisters..” Ana said.

"They say that the Blood of the Covenant is thicker than the water of the womb... Those bonds are thicker than any genetic lottery might give you. Someone who's your blood sibling or parent might have less of a bond to you than the people you were really raised with or have a lot of shared experiences with. the people you choose to have bonds with are more important than the ones who are just, there. of course for some people it's one and the same. but not everyone." Mouse said.

The girls stared at each other. Seemingly not wanting to fully accept their similarities. Mouse laughed pulling Ana down with them and hugging the two girls, both of the girls settled in to the hug despite the awkwardness. Now, the girls had to tackle a much bigger challenge than just The Cultivator, the real world.

The three of them spent that night in a turmoil of emotions, excitement at their freedom and fear of what was coming next. The next morning Mouse pulled a laptop from- somewhere? And began looking into how this world worked. She seemed to be forging paperwork in Camilla's name. I suppose everyone has to start somewhere.

After all, every ending is simply the beginning of something new.

#mouse #daisy daisy bell #ana #Spotify #the hospital #short story #writing #writeblr #creative writing #daisy #daisy daisy #daisydaisyanswer

8 notes · View notes

gaysindistress · 1 year

Text

When Night Comes - Seventeen

Summary: Who would win in a staring contest? New York’s resident mob boss and master of the side eye Bucky Barnes or the daycare teacher who really wants to go home and smoke?

pairing: Mob!Vampire!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: cursing, violence, mentions of guns/blood/killing, character deaths

Word count: 1.5k

Sixteen | masterlist

a/n: I know it's short but you'll understand why after you read it.

tag list: @cakesandtom @elizacusi-blog @unaxv @hidden-treasures21 @buckybarnessimpp @vonalyn @thebuckybarnesvault

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

Convincing Y/N to do the spell had been surprisingly easy. With a plateful of cozonac and endless tea, Ana Cristina was able to ease any worries and express the importance of it while also swearing her to secrecy. She passed the spell off as a way to trigger a curse on Lycan, specifically Alix, and claimed that because of it’s size, the coven needed Y/N to be present. Only once did she catch herself slipping up but she recovered quickly and was able to smooth over the mistake without Y/N noticing.

As Y/N bid her goodbye and left, Ana Cristina let out a sigh of relief. Alix thought the spell would be used to kill Bucky while Y/N and Yelena thought it would mimic the original spell that banned Lycan in the first place when it would be neither. She knew that without a secure way to protect Y/N, the girl would end up dead no matter who came out on top so she came up with a life bond. During the spell, Ana Cristina would tie Y/N’s life to her own so that no one would be tempted to kill either of them. Both women were needed to perform any spell so only a fool would be stupid enough to harm either. Of course, Alix and Bucky were equally likely to act in a fit of rage but the threat of losing any chance to gain what they wanted would surely be enough to prevent that.

Luca gasped in horror and lectured her like normal when she told him of her crazy plan, “You can’t possibly think that something like this is going to work?”

Ana Cristina shrugged, “We have to try. Y/N isn’t strong enough to protect herself and Bucky will be too blinded by his emotions to act rationally so it’s up to us.”

“She doesn't even know that she’s a witch, of course she’s not strong enough to protect herself.”

“That’s my point, Luca,” Ana Cristina said, “She’s a part of our coven even if she doesn’t know it. It’s our job to protect her until she can do it herself and you know very well that Bucky will be too distracted to be of any help.”

Luca sighed and agreed much to the joy of Ana Cristina, “Do you plan on telling her?”

“Telling her what?”

“That she’s not just the doppelgänger but a witch, a powerful one at that, and a part of our coven. She deserves to know.”

“It’s not important at the moment. She has too many things to worry about so I’m not going to add one more thing.”

“She deserves to know, Ana Cristina, and you know that. I’m blaming you if and when this all goes wrong.”

“I’m well aware of the consequences if this fails, onio… Luca.”

“What is going on?”

The simple question hangs in the air as Y/N follows Ana Cristina down the stone steps into the basement of the estate. Whatever natural light that streams through the windows stays at the top of the steps and flames of candles guide the women as they descend further into the belly of the beast. The smell of herbs and the burning candle swirls around them while Luca’s singing can be faintly heard. Dressed in an absurdly long and thin white nightgown, Y/N struggles to hold the ends so she doesn’t fall and keep ahold of Ana Cristina’s hand at the same time. She trips and Ana Cristina tugs her up so she doesn’t tumble down the stairs.

“Careful please,” she whispers to the doppelgänger and continues down the stairs.

“Sorry,” Y/N mumbles as she gathers the hem of her nightgown into her arms to prevent another stumble.

Luca appears at the end of the staircase, a candle in hand with the other outstretched. He offers them both small smiles while a bead of sweat trails down his forehead. Y/N gives him a questioning look when he takes her hand but Ana Cristina is quick to stop them from talking.

“Quickly,” she says as she ushers them further into the dark and cold basement. The stone walls and cobblestone floors hold in no warmth, leaving Y/N to nearly freeze to death. Luca wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his side, hoping to provide at least a little heat and comfort to her.

“What is going on, Luca? Ana Cristina won’t say anything,” she whispers.

Luca looks perplexed and swallows hard before answering, “we’re doing the spell.”

“Then why wouldn’t she say that?”

“She doesn’t want Bucky to know.”

“Why not?” she scoffs.

“Please stop asking questions,” he begs of her and the pure terror in his voice concerns her but she does as he asks and doesn’t allow anymore questions to fall out of her mouth. She hugs him closer and grips onto the back of his shirt as they follow Ana Cristina.

The air shifts uncomfortably when they enter into what looks like an old bathing room. It’s bare aside from the metal tub in the center of the room and a table off to the side covered in what Y/N assumes to be the spell’s materials. Ana Cristina turns and takes Y/N from Luca, instructing him to start prepping while she tells the doppelgänger to undress. She gives the cook a concerned look, eyes darting to Luca who has his back turned to them.

Sensing that she might back out, Ana Cristina explains that the doppelgänger needs to be “cleansed” before they can start the spell. In other words, she has to be bathed with the help of the coven’s elder. Y/N still looks apprehensive but nonetheless does as she’s told, taking off the nightgown which leaves her bare and she quickly steps into the tub. The water is steaming from how hot it is but it’s a welcomed feeling given how freezing the room and its atmosphere is.

Ana Cristina joins Luca at the table, speaking to him in Romaninan and hushed tones so that Y/N has no idea what they’re saying. She returns to the tub’s side with a washcloth and soap of some kind in hand.

“Do you want to do it yourself?” she asks as she holds out the washcloth and soap.

Y/N nods and takes them, dipping them into the water so she can wash her and save her dignity. Bathing in front of people one barely knows is embarrassing enough but adding in that they help with it is even worse. Sure she trusts Ana Cristina and Luca but they are not Bucky or Yelena for that matter. The trust she holds for them is thin and is growing thinner by the moment as a feeling of darkness and fear creeps into the room. It’s almost as if a black cloud followed them down and is trying to swallow them whole.

Luca says something in Romanain to Ana Cristina and gestures to no one in the doorway.

However there is someone in the doorway; four someones to be exact.

Yelena’s phone pings but no one can hear it.

Juliette shoves Isabel as hard as she can to get her off and in the process, shoves John off of Yelena. Gold eyes flash with anger and John throws Isabel off of him to lung at Juliette.

“You stupid bitch,” he growls at her after he grips her throat in his hands. She rips at his hands but to no avail, John is stronger than she is. Brock lets out a blood curdling yell as the smell of metallic blood fills the air. John falters for a moment and looks to his brother. Seeing blood spilling from his stomach, John lets out another growl and presses harder onto Juliette’s throat. Two more shots ring out and one thud follows.

Isabel and Brock lay on the floor of the safehouse, chests unmoving and hearts still. John drops Juliette and turns to them, coming face to face with Yelena’s gun.

“When did Peggy and Alix leave?”

“You’ll have to shoot me,” he sneers at her.

“Don’t worry I will but after you tell me when they left.”

He pulls the gun up to his forehead so its flush against his skin, “Do it. Save yourself the trouble of torturing me.”

Juliette coughs and gasps for air but manages to get the words out, “20 minutes ago.”

Yelena smirks, “Looks like it’s your lucky day.”

One shot.

One more thud.

46 notes · View notes