#ana’s tumbles
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little-bisexual-intern · 6 months ago
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this has been said before but i actually so genuinely seriously cannot believe that our options for president are a dementia patient and the worst person to ever slither across the face of the earth
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little-bisexual-intern · 6 months ago
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one time i showed this image to my friend and asked him if he knew what the hell this is and he said “you” and i was like “im a sad tiny round critter to you?” and he was like yeah and i was like ok fair enough
firing this cunt out of a sling hard enough to dent a knights steel helmet
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little-bisexual-intern · 4 months ago
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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.
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little-bisexual-intern · 4 months ago
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my fucking kitty died im crying my eyes out i miss him so much. my dumbass stupid fucking dog attacked him and now he’s gone it’s not fair we literally had him for like two days
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rest in peace sweet baby 💔💔
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imjswannabeskinny · 5 months ago
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Tbh it’s getting harder to go back to my Ænorex!c habits from before, I have about a month until the end of the summer vacation and I'm having trouble 🌟v!ńg, but it's not that I don't have enough methods and tips for this, my persistence is breaking like a F glass.
Also the time is running away from me, it’s almost ironic but stressful as hell.
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little-bisexual-intern · 7 months ago
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hi mutuals what color am i/are we
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tell me
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vintagelooks31 · 2 years ago
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My reasons for losing the weight again
- Feeling pretty when going out
- be able to wear my usual clothing without feeling the need to hide
- go the beach with my friends someday
- be able to wear shorts without looking awful
- get rid of that cellulite that makes me sick
- not be ashamed of being naked in front of bf
- that my bf still likes me (he likes skinny, white, long haired, artistic girls)
- that my friends joke around how small I am
- that my male friends still feel the need to to protect me against these men at the club cause I’m too pretty
- if I feel skinny, I feel clean; if I feel clean, I feel organised; if I feel organised, I can do my job better
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doublesidedgemini · 2 years ago
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tw: you know the drill
When you’re feeling :( about your bod and then you want a snack but you don’t eat the snack and then feel :) about your bod
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singedsage · 11 months ago
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thigh gaps are trending on tiktok this is not the 2014 tumblr fashion renaissance we wanted take it back
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little-bisexual-intern · 4 months ago
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i fucking love getting these but i reblog so many of them and nobody sends me anything 💔💔 not gonna stop me from reblogging every one i see tho
ask game!
send anon asks with any of these emojis :3 (reblog if you want your followers/mutuals to do it for you)
🖤: you are my worst enemy. if anything bad happened to you i would kill everyone.
🩶: you scare me /neg
🤍: you scare me /pos
❤️: i have feelings for you /srs (specify romantic or platonic) (this is just on here bcus a similar ask game had it)
🩷: lets go kill someone together <3
🧡: i dont know much about you, but you seem cool
💛: you are like a wet cat.
💚: one million dollars. for you.
🩵: you are amazing and i love you /p
💙: you dont seem mentally stable. at all.
💜: you look like you had a fnaf phase
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poptod · 1 month ago
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Omg yay!!! Ik u already have to many for him I hope ur not tired of him yet 😭
Aukmenrah x gn reader where reader is a new part of an exhibit (I was thinking like Pompeii or roman/greek like along those timelines but ill leave it up to u :)) and while Larry is showing them around they meet up with Auk who explains the tablet but while trying to understand him, reader is just looking at him like he hung the stars and Auk starts to get flustered. It's like that between them for a while, like a school crush, and Larry makes it a mission to eventually get them together and becomes Auk's wing man <3
Notes: amazingly no, i am not tired of our dearest ahk but you have GOT to tell me why you spell Ahkmenrah's name like that </3 i made the reader from the islamic golden age since that's what i'm writing about in my book. hope thats satisfactory! WC: 2k
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It was startling, your first awakening––you were one of few exhibits who immediately realized something was not quite right with your existence. For you, it was because you had no memories. You were not a copy of some great historical figure or the remnants of a skeleton; you were a wax doll, there only to demonstrate the clothes of the time.
The nightguard, standing in front of you as the sun set and you shimmered into living, offered you a hand to help you down from your pedestal.
"My name's Larry. Larry Daley," he said. "Welcome to the museum."
"Mā? 'Ayna ana?"
A long sigh and grimace ran through him. He put his hands on his hips, muttered something to himself, then said something to you, beckoning you along. You glanced around––the shining floors and tall ceilings, the myriad of creatures and humans in the long hall. You decided it would be best to listen, even if you didn't know what he wanted.
"Okay…" he mumbled beneath his breath. he then, in a rather thick accent, introduced himself in your language. "I am Larry Daley."
"Uhuh," you said, lifting your chin. "I…"
You frowned. You weren't sure what your name was. Another hint that something was seriously wrong.
"I don't know my name," you said, but he seemed not to understand you.
He took you through the halls and large rooms of what appeared to be a palace with many treasures on display. Unfortunately, no one seemed to be able to speak your language, and so all of Larry's explanations fell on deaf ears. After a rather long walk through a section filled with crystals and minerals, you circled back round to the main part of the building, with its warmly coloured walls and decorated arches.
Rising up to the second floor, you turned down a hall filled with what you recognized as ancient Egyptian artifacts. You stopped in front of a few showcases, tilting your head curiously to the side as your eyes scanned blankly over the informational plaques, unable to identify the language.
Larry pulled you along.
Tumbling over your feet, you barely caught sight of the giant, moving jackal statues staring you down before you were in the next room, bathed in a dim, golden light. Distracted by the multitude of hieroglyphs around you––the art and mystery of which was a fascination of your time––you payed little attention to the quiet conversation Larry was holding with another person. Eventually you turned around, peeked over Larry's shoulder, and stopped dead in your tracks.
His beauty was a near perfect image of the ancient Pharaonic carvings. Your heart sped tenfold as you gawked at him––his khol-lined pale eyes, his soft lips stretched into a smile, the revelation of his tanned waist revealed between tresses of sewn gold. It was rather inappropriate, you knew, but somehow you couldn't stop yourself.
His eyes shifted and fell on you. You stiffened.
A keen smile creeped across his face, eyes narrowing. He said something, something you couldn't understand, and Larry replied in conversation. You attempted to hide a little further behind Larry's shoulder, but the nightguard stepped to the side and revealed you in your entirety.
You froze, then tucked your hands behind your back, straightening your posture.
"So, you are new," the Pharaoh said, lifting his chin in your direction.
You perked up. He knew your language.
"Yes, I am. You know how to speak Arabic?"
"I know many languages, fortunately for Larry," he said with a teasing lilt, glancing to Larry. "He says you don't know your name. Is that true?"
"I suppose so," you said quietly. "Do you know why that is?"
"I believe I do, if you'll lend me the time to explain," he said, offering a hand. You slowly, reluctantly, took it. "I am the Pharaoh Ahkmenrah, from many thousands of years before your time. And you are from some thousand years before this time."
He proceeded to explain the magic of his tablet, which you would've never believed without having been a product of it yourself––something which took you a long while to realize and come to terms with. Though, perhaps, you might've understood faster and more thoroughly if you had been paying attention. Instead, most of your mind was caught up in staring at Ahkmenrah and absorbing his beauty.
"The tablet was – was…" Ahk paused, his face flushing as he glanced between you and the tablet on the wall. "… was, um, constructed by my," he cleared his throat, "father… millenia ago."
You stared.
"It is, um, powered by Iah, the moon, which - which is why…" he chuckled weakly, eyes shining, "… why it only, uh, activates during the night."
Beside you, Larry crossed his arms, a soft huff leaving his chest. You continued to stare.
"Do you… have any questions?" He asked, tugging at his bejewelled collar.
"I don't think so," you said slowly.
"Well, um, if you do," he said, stepping forward and placing a hand on your back to guide you down the hall, "I better answer them tomorrow night. The sun will rise soon, and it is best if we all return to our places. Otherwise the general populace will discover our nature and I am sure it would be better kept a secret. People tend to become scared when confronted with that which they do not understand. Yes?"
You nodded vaguely, still looking up at him. He glanced down at you, his face still darkened by a warm blush, and immediately looked up ahead once more, avoiding your pointed gaze.
Larry led you the rest of your way back to your exhibit, which was filled with inner architecture and room design of the typical Islamic household of your time. You stepped back up into your place, smoothed down your many layers of clothing, and faded back out of living.
During the nights, you occupied your time by watching the Pharaoh. Few others knew how to speak to you, and try as Larry might to learn Arabic, his pronunciation was poor at best and his understanding rather weak. Your own English was coming along slowly. Yet despite the fact that Ahk was one of the only people you could communicate with, you found it difficult to interact with him. Most thought escaped your mind and you found yourself entranced by the majesty with which he held himself, even if it was dampened by his nervous blushing. You relinquished yourself to watching from afar.
You sighed, legs dangling over the edge of the balcony as you watched the party on the floor below. Ahk was an identifiable streak of gold amongst the costumes and exhibits, and Larry, the opposite of him who blended in, stood beside him. They were conversing quietly, with muted hand gestures as they stood to the side of the action.
Then, between words, Larry pointed up at you.
Your eyes widened and you quickly withdrew your legs from between the bannister poles, stood, and hurried away.
Your exhibit was rather small; just a single presentation in a hall detailing middle eastern culture. Out of all the artefacts on display, you were the only one to animate at night, which made the hall a rather lonely and silent one. You sat on your low couch, far more ornate than you figured you deserved as a nameless thing, and stared at your hands.
It was inappropriate, your behaviour––gawking after someone. Your emotions on the matter were beyond confusing. Traditionally, being Muslim, your curiosity in the Pharaoh could not extend beyond scholastic. After all, he was a polytheist. But his Gods were real, just as real as your God. His Gods brought you to life. You wondered as you stared blankly down if a blank, nameless wax doll could even have a religion.
At least Ahkmenrah was a real person.
Quiet footsteps began to echo, swirling round the empty halls and growing slowly louder. You noticed it faintly and hoped you blended in to the intricately woven carpets and carved wood facades.
Alas, the footsteps stopped in front of you, and as you looked up you found the Pharaoh standing in front of you, his hands folded neatly in front of him.
"May I join you?" He asked, gesturing to the raised platform.
You nodded. He smiled in return, and took a seat beside you.
"Your exhibit is much nicer than mine. Well-made furniture… though it is as quiet as mine," he said, chuckling softly.
You shrugged, tucking your hands between your knees.
"Yours is nice," you said quietly.
He nodded vaguely, and the two of you stewed in an awkward silence for a moment. Ahk's eyes wandered about, then finally settled on you, long eyelashes accentuating his makeup.
"How are you enjoying your time here?" He asked, turning towards you. "You've kept mostly to yourself."
"Well, there's not much to say to most people," you mumbled. "They do try, which is nice. But it's not the same. And I feel… different to the others."
"Different?" He repeated. "How is that?"
"I have a vague idea of my culture, but no actual memories. I know you and Larry gave me a name but it's not even from my own culture," you said. "So… it doesn't have anything to do with the others. Just my own troubles."
"I'm afraid I don't know many Persian names. I… had hoped the name I chose would be suitable," he said.
You couldn't help the smile on your face, as bashful as it was. A blush crept up your cheeks. You had no idea what the name meant, but the fact that he had taken the time to name you something––that your only identity was related to him––fuelled something warm and comforting within you.
"It's a nice name," you said, "even if I do not know what it means."
"Um, well…" he trailed off, his face growing ever redder, "it's… rather embarrassing, actually."
He lowered his head, scratching at the back of his neck subtly. You quirked your head to the side.
"You gave me an embarrassing name?" You asked, raising a brow.
"No, not at all," he said quickly, meeting your eye. "I suppose it's really only embarrassing for me that I am the one who gave you the name, because it is… it is a rather sentimental name."
"Sentimental?" You chuckled. "What do you mean by that?"
He fell silent, his mouth opening and closing as he seemed to debate whether or not to tell you. His eyes darted here and there, but eventually settled on you, and as his hands gripped his skirt tightly he offered you a diffident smile.
"Well, Meri… if you do truly wish to know… your name means 'love', in my language."
Your eyes widened as slowly as your realization. Ahkmenrah, unfortunately not privy to your thoughts, melted in his seat and began to stammer some excuse.
"I didn't mean it in any – any bad way, which is to say, I wanted you to feel welcome, and you…"
He pursed his lips, sucking in a sharp breath.
"… you have so much love in your eyes," he finally said, his voice quiet and diminutive.
You had thought just a minute ago that you couldn't get any warmer––that you had reached the full extent of your embarrassment, absorbed wholly in your own flustered cocoon of thoughts. You hadn't imagined your admiration of him was so overwhelming so as to be visible. When you finally recognized the sensations in your body once more, you realized your mouth was hanging open.
"I hope I haven't offended you," he said quietly.
"No, not at all," you said, reaching forward to place a hand on his. "Actually, I was hoping I didn't disturb you with my, um.. staring."
"Not at all," he replied with a smile, intertwining your fingers with his. "I find it quite endearing. Even as a Pharaoh, though being much admired, none would dare gaze upon me with such obvious… well, adoration. It's something I enjoy about being in this time. Less fear of expression."
You nodded and hummed, your smile sweet on your lips.
"So you don't mind it then?" You asked, looking up with glowing eyes.
"I would prefer you talk to me rather than just stare, but… I suppose… even desiring your company in greater intimacy… I could 'make do' with watching you from afar in return," he said, a coy smile on his face.
You blushed, looking down at your hands together on his lap.
"I will… do my best to talk to you more," you said.
"I appreciate the effort, my love," he said, and lifted your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss on your palm.
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willalove75 · 2 years ago
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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
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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.
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elliebyrrdwrites · 23 days ago
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Dramione AU Drabbles
The rain continued to linger. Sporadic showers falling onto the city with intention. Darkening the shadows as the sun continued to hide amongst the clouds.
But, Hermione felt as if she was stuck in the eye of a storm more torrential than the fickle rain that denied to go away. Not yet, it said. Just a little longer. It wanted to drive its point home. That autumn was tumbling, furiously to a close as the winter season closed in. It refused the arrival of the Santa Ana winds that typically hit Southern California this time of year. Each year, the winds grew fiercer and drier. And every winter proved wetter and colder.
Right now, the entire region was stuck somewhere in between. Hermione was also stuck. She was in no place to be intrigued by a man. Especially not by a man like Officer Draco Malfoy.
But she was.
Everything about the situation was wrong. He was an officer. She was a witch pretending to be an ordinary civilian. But that wasn’t even the most concerning element to all of this.
Hermione had a plan. She had been working on this plan for years. Quietly moving her way through a cold world, unseen. She put away every spare bronze mark she could. Scraping and skimping. Saving.
She was closer than ever. And now, all she could think about the spark of magic that ignited inside of her skin when Malfoy touched her. All she could think about was the way he looked at her. Like he had unexpectedly stumbled upon something he had been searching for.
She couldn’t stop thinking about little things. Like the sharp point of his nose or the hard lines of his jaw. The mysterious pale blue eyes. The hint of cigarette smoke and something spicy and woodsy that lingered on his clothes. He’d gotten close enough to her that she could smell him. Could bathe in his scent.
But, it didn’t make sense. For the most notorious Generals son to be at all interested in her. Even if she wasn’t magical, what could he possibly get from flirting with a girl like her?
Nothing, she reminded herself. Not a thing, she emphasized as she tightened the tie of her apron at her back before taking her hair down from the messy bun on top of her head. She ran her fingers through her mess of curls as her eyes darted to the clock on the wall. There was only ten minutes left until closing. And he still had not shown up.
Which was good, she reminded herself. That was great. That was ideal, actually.
And so, she went about cleaning off the empty tables. She emptied out the trash cans and swept the floor. She shut the machines down and washed the milk pitchers and cups. She did all this by hand.
At a minute past midnight, Hermione hung up her apron and turned up the volume to the music. She let it wash over her. The somber, romantic croon of the clarinet. The different saxophones, a tenor and an alto. The trumpet in B Flat. There were no lyrics, This song was all music, all feeling.
She wanted to dance. It was something she did, once upon a time. Something they all before the task force was introduced, sneaking through the streets in the middle of the night, getting into dance halls that were mostly underground.
She didn’t think they existed anymore. But in here, in this coffee shop, the music lives on. It lives in her heart. It keeps her company.
Hermione went into the back room and filled up the mop bucket before dunking the mop head into the soapy water. Using the handle of the mop, she steered the bucket and wheeled it out.
Only to find Malfoy standing in the middle of the little coffee shop. His blonde hair was damp from the rain. It looked darker, as it clung to his temples and to his forehead. His coat was slung over the back of a chair and he was dressed in his usual black uniform. But the collar of his starched shirt was unbutton to expose the damp pale skin, drops of water leaking from the ends of his hair until they rolled and rolled, disappearing behind the fabric.
“You came.” The words tumbled, freely, from her lips. They were unprovoked, they were unguarded. They betrayed her.
Malfoy’s mouth twitched up at the corners. She could have sworn that his eyes brightened as he dipped his head. But when he looked back up at her, everything about him was serious. Stoic.
“We’re closed.” She rushed the words out, eager to throw him off of her trail.
“I know,” He lifted his chin and took a step toward her. “But I’m afraid I needed to come by and ask you a very serious question.”
Hermione’s hand tightened around the mop handle. Was this about her blood status? She had to know that, eventually, the question would come up. She had always figure out a way to convince people that she was pure. Untainted. But this was General Malfoy’s son. What if he required proof?
She lifted up her own chin and shook the curls from her face. “Oh?” Her voice might have shook.
His eyes flicked up to the speakers that blared out the music. The song was on repeat, and had restarted thirty seconds before she found him standing there.
He outstretched his arm, holding his hand out to her, palm facing the sky. “Will you dance with me?”
Hermione took a step back, letting got of the mop. It clattered to the floor causing her to jump. “What?” Her eyes darted to the mop and back to him. He was smirking at her, his eyes unyielding as they held onto her.
Malfoy nodded and took a step closer.
Her heart began to flutter and her stomach flipped as he moved closer. His hand was between them, as he grew so close, she could smell him again. He must have just smoked a cigarette. It smelled fresh. It mixed with his cologne and the rain, creating an all new, intoxicating scent that would forever be imprinted into her brain. Core memory creation at its finest.
Despite his damp clothes, there was warmth radiating off of him. It felt like it was wrapping itself around her, pulling her in, threatening to wrap her into an embrace that might shatter her entire world.
Which is why she had to say no. She needed to deny him this dance. She needed to keep her head on straight. Push forward, remain faithful to the plan.
Except that she found the walls that had once been fortified around herself crumbling as she breathed him in. Because his other hand reached up and tucked one of her curls behind her ear. The intimate feeling of a feather light touch against the shell of her ear sent a shiver through her, and propelled her into the unknown.
Her hand slid into his. And for a moment, it was as if she had plucked herself up and removed her entire body and mind from this existence and found herself floating into an entire new realm.
His other hand was gentle and light as it rested at her hip. Almost timid, as their feet shuffled, stiffly from side to side. As their hips swayed, slowly. But her favorite part of the song was starting, and often, it felt as if Hermione’s body had no control when music reached out and sunk itself into her heart. Her eyes fluttered, threatening to close as his feet shuffled closer to hers. Her free hand moved to his shoulder and gripped onto the hard flesh there.
And it was as if Malfoy was falling into the hypnosis that so commonly latched onto people. Because his hand pressed more firmly into her hips before he slid around to the small of her back. The warmth that had threatened to steal her away began to wind its way around them, filling her entire body with heat as his fingers entwined with hers.
His chest pushed against her cheek and her eyelids finally succumbed, closing as he held her closer. His embrace was strong, firm. It was comforting.
She hadn’t been held in months. Hadn’t felt another human touch. Except for his. He had touched her three times, now, in only three days.
Something foreign was filling up her chest with hot air. She couldn’t admit to herself that it was not nerves as much as it was something stronger. Something dangerous.
Something like desire.
She could have sworn that as his cheek rested against the top of her head, that they were floating.
The music was winding up, a cacophony of beautiful instruments that all strung together, the horns louder than the clarinet before they dwindled, masterfully to a halt.
But they didn’t pull apart. They didn’t even stop swaying as Malfoy moved his hand up her spine, and around her shoulder. It settled, finally, at the back of her neck. The warm tips of his fingers were firmly pressed into her skin and she refused to open her eyes. She refused to pull away and face her new reality.
Because they were suddenly on a crash course for destruction. She could feel the chemistry between them. She could feel the bright curl of magic responding to the flare of sudden emotions charging deep inside of her.
“Hermione.” His voice caressed her as he wrapped his lips around her name. She suppressed another shiver before she opened her eyes and pulled back to look at him. She blinked rapidly up at him, eyes adjusting to the dim light of the coffee shop as his fingers stayed gently gripping onto her neck.
Something flicked in his expression, so quickly, she was unable to make it out. But his eyes were like a soft against her own. He licked at his lips and inhaled sharply. He held his breath for several seconds as she quickly gathered as much of hers as she could. But it was coming in short bursts, slivered through slightly parted lips.
It looked like he wanted to kiss her, it felt like she might want to let him.
But with an exhale, his hand fell and his eyes shifted to stare, once again out the window as another armored truck raced by. This one had no sirens, but the engine was so loud, just as menacing. Malfoy stepped away from her, leaving her body in a sudden chill.
“Will you be here tomorrow night?” His hands lifted so that his fingers could fasten the buttons at his collar.
She huffed out a breath of…what? Irritation? No, relief. Surely, it was relief. “I work every night except for Sunday and Monday.”
He nodded and picked up the coat from the nearby chair before quickly shrugging it on. He turned on his heels and aimed for the door. But, before he could reach for it, he hurried back over, grabbed the hand that had been linked with his own and lifted her knuckles to sweep his lips across them.
“Thank you,” he smirked. “For the dance.” And then he swept away from her. Leaving her, once again, totally speechless.
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writtenbyred · 10 months ago
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Something Bad // A Matt Murdock x Reader fic // Slow burn
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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.
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harrowharkwife · 2 years ago
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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.
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little-bisexual-intern · 5 months ago
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