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that-weird-thing-in-the-woods · 1 day ago

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~{ So I was listening to “They’re only human” Death note the musical and this come out of the brain so here you gremlins go! }~

🌌🌙The Solar🌙🌌

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If someone asked danny what he thought his life in the future would look like he would have said something like “Of course I will be an astronaut!” Or something to that effect

But what he did not expect was for him to have a protective and strong ass husband [Who is phantom and now the Ghost king and isn’t that something] with a little toddler who is 2 ( Dani who will be called dawn in this ) and a little protective toddler who is 4 (Dan who is called dusk) who he loves more than anything

And gain a ghost family who adores him (but for the price of another) who put up with his husband and adore him as well as spoil his Sun and Moon rotten

Now let’s see how this become as it has shall we?

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Danny was having a bad day, first he almost miss class again [due to a mix of being to exhausted to get up on his on from fighting ghosts all night and with jazz being busy with college hunting so she couldn’t wake him up and his parents don’t even know what time he wakes up at for school]

Second Dash wouldn’t leave him alone and it was becoming hard to keep himself..well not really himself but recently he’s been feeling this that for a better word are not his to feel like when a ghost hit a bit to hard to feels rage and protectiveness wash over him anyway back to this.

Third Sam and Tucker were both out for separate reasons for Sam her parents had some kind of rich people thing to do and dragged her with them and tucker with his family were going to visit some relatives so yeah Danny had no one to hang out with.

Third apparently they had a test in English that nobody told Danny about so he knows he is going to fail that and some other things but it would get to long if we bought all that up but you get the point

So when Danny gets back home and all he wants to do is go to his room change into phantom and hug/chill himself out who is anyone to deny him [Like with the feeling feels that weren’t his, yeah he got the habit after a very bad day where his parents shot him in the back of the leg and it hurt bad so he hugged himself and apparently it was the right thing to do because he started to feel better! Not physically no it still hurt like a motherfucker but emotionally yes so he started to do that when ever he felt he needed comfort]

So Danny goes to his bedroom [not noticing the tall orange figure following him up] and closes the door [it was left ajar just enough for someone to look in] and changes into phantom but he hears the door open the door and he turns to see his dad looking at him

And the next thing he knows is a red hot pain coming from his side and blacks out

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It has been a week a long and painful week since his parents found out

After Jack [NEVER dad never again] he brought him down to the lab and tied him to a table and did…unspeakable things to him…have been doing this to him for a week

After two days Danny heard two more wails and he recognized the voices it was dan and Dani! [his children] and they were hurting them, Danny tired to get their attention to him to get them away from them but the damage was done and Dani and Dan went into their cores due to the damage but thank the ancients the cores were basically a undamageable and none of their weapons work on them

So that turns all their attention on him and how that would be their downfall [and the whole dimensions with them]

On day five is when Danny’s human “half” gives out due to no food or water and with the torture Maddie and Jack have inflicted on him it wasn’t really a surprise but what was when phantom and Danny unfazed and phantom was pissed they hurt Danny [his husband] they hurt Dani and Dan [his children] they weren’t getting of easy

So well they were fighting the now fully ghost Danny gets out from his restraints and grabs Dani and dans cores and pushes them inside him to heal them by essentially force feeding their cores clean ecto

Than phantom grabs him and pulls him fast to the portal and the go through and as they do they destroy the portal [not knowing that in doing that they let out all the built-up ecto and that essentially bombs the dimension taking everything with it]

And now that brings Danny here after healing and when the children cores got enough ecto that they could come out [as well as speed running a very loving relationship that is still going very strong]

And now Danny is very happy with his life now or well after-life

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~{ Now onto the DCU part! }~

When Damian got into a fight with father he expected to be benched as Robin for a few days or a week what he was not expecting was for father to assigned him to go and watch a warehouse that is known for not having been used for anything for longer than Damien himself has been alive [it’s due to a cult that hangs around there not that the bats know that]

So now here is Damien tide up in surprisingly good rope that he can not break free from in the middle of a summoning circle and waiting for the other to get here while the cultist surrounds the circle and start to speak in a language Damian does not understand and Damian doesn’t believe anything will happen

Until the summoning circle turns into a portal and Damian falls through as the others get there to help him

The last thing Damien remembers before he passes out is someone yelling after a while Damian wakes up in a bed…? A very soft large bed with a lot of space and as Damien takes in his surroundings he hears a door opening and as he turns his head to look he sees a tall man…? Woman? Person let’s go with that

They walk over to him and start cooing? At him and fretting over him [✨Mom instincts✨] and stuff a few days? [time is weird Damian has found] and the person has started to bring him with them as they walk around [Danny wants the little child to get some air and cleaner Ecto] and he has met the person’s children who are named dusk and dawn respectively and they have taken him as their older brother he believes this is due to the person [who he now knows his name is Solar, it’s not just everyone calls him that due to his space obsession] calls him his Stars much like how he calls this children his Sun and Moon

And with meeting Solar with Dawn and Dusk it is a guarantee that Damien was to meet Solar infamous husband Phantom [who he has heard about from the whispers of some of the working staff] and it goes pretty well [not that Phantom can do shit to this child his husband has already taken him in as his own] so he lets the child stay for how long as he likes

Meanwhile with the Batfam

The Batfam are freaking TF out about where Damian is and is he safe OMG-

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~{ And that’s all I can really do with the DCU part I am very tired if you can’t tell and now onto the details! }~

Now for Danny outfit I’m thinking something like this

With this over coat

And for hair/hair ornaments

And for phantom you know the drill blue-greenish skin, white hair and pointy ears

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~{ And that is about it! Sorry if the last part is weird I am very tired and sleepy anyway I hope you guys like this and see you gremlins later byeeee }~

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lvmoure · 2 days ago

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Before It's Too Late CS55

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x wife!reader

Summary: When he realized it when it's too late.

Warnings: angst, death

The house was too large for just the two of them. Despite the warmth of the afternoon sun streaming through the massive glass windows, the atmosphere was cold, distant, like a room frozen in time. The walls were adorned with family portraits and lavish decorations, but none of them held any warmth, no laughter, no joy. It was just the echo of a marriage, one that had never truly been lived.

You sat at the long dinner table, your hands folded in your lap, eyes downcast as Carlos Sainz entered the room. His presence, though undeniably commanding, did nothing to comfort you. He didn’t notice the way your chest tightened with each breath you took, the way your skin felt too thin, as though it could tear apart under the weight of your own body. He was too wrapped up in his own thoughts, too cold to ever notice the way your body betrayed you in silence.

You had never asked for this life, for this arranged marriage that was meant to appease your families and bind two powerful legacies. You had never asked for a life of quiet suffering. Yet, here you were.

Carlos took his seat at the head of the table, his sharp features obscured by a faint, unreadable mask. He greeted you with the same indifference he always did, a polite nod, a fleeting glance, before turning his attention to his phone. You knew better than to speak. He would only respond with monosyllables, his mind elsewhere, as it had been for months.

"How was your day?" you asked, your voice soft but carrying an unfamiliar tenderness, an attempt to break the ice, to forge a connection. But you already knew the answer before the words left your lips. Carlos would give you nothing.

"Fine," he muttered, eyes still glued to the screen, fingers swiping through some images of race cars or corporate emails, his focus never straying from his work, never reaching you.

Your heart sank. You had known from the very beginning that this wasn’t love, not the kind you’d dreamed about, anyway. But there was a quiet ache, a pang that came from the realization that your life had been reduced to this. Just a contract. Just a duty. And the pain in your chest wasn't just physical; it was emotional. It was the kind of pain you couldn't escape, even in your sleep.

Each day was harder to bear than the last. Each step felt heavier. The weight of the world was pressing down on you. But it wasn’t just your family legacy on your shoulders; it was your sickness. The leukemia was already making its presence known, like a shadow lurking just behind your ribs, making your bones ache, making your body weaker, slower. But you hid it from everyone. You hid it from Carlos because he didn’t care enough to notice. Or perhaps he simply didn’t care.

You excused yourself from dinner, your legs unsteady beneath you as you made your way to the bathroom. You could feel the familiar warmth creeping up your throat, a bitter metallic taste that signaled the start of another episode. The blood in your mouth tasted like iron. It was becoming a part of your life now—sickening, unyielding, relentless. But there was no one to see it. No one to understand.

Carlos would never know the torment you faced every day, not unless he cared to look beyond his own cold indifference. But he wouldn’t. You had accepted that. He wouldn’t care, because this marriage had been nothing more than an obligation for him, an arrangement for convenience. You were just a name, a title, nothing more.

But then, why did your heart ache when you saw him so distant? Why did you still long for something more, even when you knew deep down that it was never going to come?

It wasn’t until weeks later that Carlos started to notice the change. You were slipping away, little by little.

He wasn’t an idiot. He could see the signs—how your hands trembled slightly when you reached for a glass of water, how your face had become pale and drawn, like the color had been drained from your skin. It wasn’t just the tiredness that came with the burden of your marriage; it was something else, something deeper. Something he couldn’t name.

But still, he chose to ignore it. The coldness between you was a kind of armor, a shield against something he didn’t want to understand. He had his own life, his own race schedule, his own ambitions. And yet, as much as he tried to focus on them, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was something more to you than the perfect, distant wife he had married.

One evening, as you struggled to make it from your room to the kitchen, Carlos couldn’t help but follow you. He had been waiting for you to ask for help, waiting for you to show any sign of weakness that would break through the carefully constructed walls of your relationship. But that day, you didn’t.

You hadn’t asked for help, but you were struggling, your movements slow, deliberate. It was so subtle, but it was enough for him to finally act.

He followed you out of the house, keeping his distance, and watched as you entered a small, private clinic just down the street. Something in his gut twisted. He didn’t know why he was so drawn to this, why he couldn’t just let it go and keep pretending like everything was fine. But he followed you anyway.

He waited outside for what felt like hours, pacing the sidewalk, his mind racing. Eventually, he saw you emerge, looking even more fragile than before. He wanted to approach you, to ask if you were alright, but something stopped him. He stayed hidden, watching you as you spoke to a doctor in hushed tones.

You didn’t know he was there.

"I don’t have much time left, do I?" you whispered, voice breaking. The doctor hesitated before answering, but it was clear what the prognosis was. You only had a month to live.

Carlos felt his heart stop. A cold, heavy weight settled in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He didn’t know what to think. You, his wife—the woman he had ignored, treated like a stranger, was dying. And he hadn’t even noticed.

What kind of man was he?

He stayed in the shadows, listening as the doctor explained the severity of your condition, and all the while, his chest tightened. He had always thought of you as a distant figure, a woman whose emotions were locked away behind a facade of grace. But now, he realized the depth of your suffering. He had ignored it, ignored you. And now time was running out.

The days dragged on, and you grew weaker with each passing moment. Carlos could no longer ignore it. He had been trying to maintain the cold distance between you both, but now he felt the weight of his own guilt. Every time he saw you struggle, every time you gasped for breath or clutched your chest, it was like a knife to his heart.

But he pretended. He pretended like nothing had changed, like he didn’t know. He treated you as if everything was fine, as if the knowledge of your illness hadn’t completely altered the way he saw the world.

It was the only way he could cope. The only way he could feel like he wasn’t drowning in his own regret.

The last day came without warning. You were lying in the hospital bed, your breath shallow, your body frail, and Carlos sat beside you, trying to look composed, trying to look unaffected. But on the inside, he was breaking.

He had tried to make amends, but it felt like too little, too late. He was here now, but you were slipping away from him, and there was nothing he could do.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Carlos asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "Why didn’t you say anything?"

You smiled weakly, though it didn’t reach your eyes. "You wouldn’t have cared," you whispered. "You never did."

Carlos felt a lump form in his throat, and he struggled to speak through the pain. "I’m sorry... I should’ve noticed. I should’ve been there."

But you were already fading, your hand gripping his weakly. "You didn’t know... but I... I still hoped... I still... wanted..." The words were barely audible, and before he could say anything more, you were gone.

And in that moment, all the regret, all the guilt, all the missed chances came crashing down on him.

At your funeral, Carlos stood alone at your grave, his face buried in his hands, sobs wracking his body. He had been the one who had built the wall between you, and now he was the one left to mourn the wife he had never truly known.

It was too late. The cruel irony twisted the knife in his chest, and he couldn’t escape it.

You had been a mystery to him, but now, as he stood before your grave, he realized how much he had lost.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking, his words carried away by the wind. "I didn’t know how much I loved you until it was too late."

The world around him was silent, the only sound the rustling of the trees. But in that moment, Carlos finally understood. He had loved you in a way he never could have imagined. Too late. Too little.

And all that was left was an endless ache in his heart, the memory of a love that never had a chance to bloom.

#carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #f1

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hamsternella · 2 days ago

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Second part of this one

Bill Cipher x Fem!Reader

cw: gore, bill is a warning by himself, mdni, yandere and obsessive behavior

''She's my wife! You're talking about my wife, Cipher!'' Ford ran his hands through his hair, feeling desperate. Disgust was driving him mad; fury was blinding him. ''You've crossed a boundary! You're a…''

''A monster, a madman, a sick man,'' Bill interrupted him lazily. ''Yeah, yeah. I get that a lot, thanks, Fordsy. Anyway, what do you say? Do we have a deal?''

Ford backed up a couple of steps, colliding with the edge of his desk behind him. His hand brushed against a statuette of Cipher himself; a figure of pure gold that weighed between his fingers as he lifted it into the air, eyes fixed on the demon. The latter shook his hand in denial. 'No, no. Don't even think about it.' But he did it anyway. He didn't even get to hit him—Bill had disappeared.

"Come back here, Bill!" cried the investigator in despair. "Don't you dare lay a hand on my wife again, Cipher!"

But all he received in response was a shrill laugh, and the blow of a warm breeze that made him stagger. The lights went out, and in the gloom the only thing that enveloped Ford was silence barely interrupted by his own breathing.

"My God," he whispered, "what have I done?"

After your talk with Bill, and the forced kiss that sealed an implied deal, your life becomes confusing and uncomfortable.

The demon had not stopped possessing your husband until the day you decided that enough was enough.

The limit was to have found him on you, forcing your petticoats with the hands of the man who was supposed to be your companion.

How were you supposed to know when it was Ford and not Bill? How could you let him kiss your lips with that sweetness, sometimes interspersed with the awkwardness of a need that already seemed alien to you?

When Ford found out about the situation you were acting so strange about, his fury is such that even you find yourself terrified of the human as you were of the demon.

They felt like one and the same entity. At this point you didn't know what to think about it.

Your relationship with your husband deteriorated considerably. It was easy to see how uncomfortable it made him to know that you and Bill had been intimate.

"Aren't we ever going to talk about it, then? Ford, I'm addressing the word to you..."

"I know," he interrupted you, the frustration palpable in his voice. "You've been saying the same thing every day, throughout every week; it's a regular thing come this point."

"Because we need to talk about it! For God's sake, Ford, you can't even stand to be in the same room with me anymore. Do you think this situation hasn't affected me too?"

You heard his footsteps coming towards where you were. You felt him in front of you, with his scent and his breathing altered into a choked growl. "Be honest with me, didn't you suspect at any time that that imitation wasn't me?"

"Ford, not again with this..." you sighed.

"Not again, you say? Not again, as if it were something upsetting to you," he exclaimed. "Oh, well, perhaps it is—perhaps because things happened there that I don't know about. More things I don't know—I don't want to know. Terrible things, lots of secrets hidden from me, your husband!"

"Are you serious, Stanford? You're coming at me with such audacity!" You had risen from your seat, colliding immediately with your husband's chest. His hands took you by surprise; a shove brought you back to the world as you hit the table at your side. "Ford! What's wrong with you, God..."

"This is all wrong! This is all terrible!" he shouted. Moments later there was silence. It took your husband some time to regulate his own breathing. "Whole weeks... being possessed by a creature I thought was my friend, my companion. Days believing I was falling into madness; the darkness of a confused dream enveloping me, devouring my senses... all of me. All of me! My works, my researches, my wife! He dared to possess my woman!"

"So that's what I am to you," you hastened to add. "Just your woman. That's what this irrational outburst of yours is all about, Stanford."

"It's everything! This is about everything! For God's sake, woman, understand. He's taken everything from me—he's trying to make it, and he's closing in on me by leaps and bounds... He's wanted to ruin my life completely and you don't understand! You can't be so selfish!"

"Who's being selfish here, when you were the scoundrel hiding a demon under our feet! This was all started by you, Stanford! And you never told me the truth!" You covered your face for a moment, sighing faintly. "You let him take your body and walk around the house; you kept me ignorant of your true plans while to him you built a shrine."

"How did you..."

"He told me," you interrupted him coldly, "as usual. Because of course I have to find out what's going on in my own house from a demon. Same demon who, by the way, got into our room to try to molest me!"

"You could have told me that in the first place! Things don't magically escalate."

"Excuse me? What are you trying to tell me?"

His silence confirmed the shame that had overwhelmed him by his own words.

"I'm talking to you, Ford."

"You should have told me. You allowed him direct entry."

"I don't think I gave him that much power," you shook your head. "Not like you gave it to him, Ford, with your portals and your 'insignificant' studies."

"I didn't mean to."

"And you think it was my intention to have him on top of me?"

"For God's sake—this is not about you!"

"It's never about me! Nothing is ever about me, your very wife, Ford!" You held back the heart-rending cry in your throat, until the other words snatched it from you. "I could have been raped that night and you didn't care! That thing has kissed me, touched me while in your body, and what affects you most is losing your portal! Please, Stanford, please, I beg you to understand!"

You stretched out your arms in a desperate attempt to cling to your husband's shirt. You knew where he was when you brushed against his body; there your hands rested, fingers digging like daggers into his arms. Your voice was barely a whisper corrupted by pain and despair.

"I gave up everything for you," you continued, "even my hobbies, my friends and my family. I believed in you like no one ever has; I sacrificed time, sweat and tears on your journey to glory... All for you. Always for you. When will there be something for me? When will I have a family of my own? When will I have a nice home? When will I feel safe?" you weighed a couple of raw ideas at the back of your mind. "When will I feel safe with you, Ford. You're supposed to be my husband..." you sobbed.

"I need you to understand," he whispered back. "Please, honey. I need you to."

"I'm tired of understanding things I don't know," you shook your head, possessed by crying. "You let that thing into this house. You gave your body, your mind... your wife."

"I would never allow him to lay a hand on you!"

"He's done it already!" you shouted back. "He's already done as much damage as you have, Ford! You're just like that! Unsatisfied, cruel creatures; eager to carry more than your arms can carry. He may be able to make it. Not you, Ford. And that's your problem—yourself. You're selfish, self-centered..."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"... and I begin to believe that I have been a victim of that victorious perversity that consumes you when you get something that others want and can't. But you could! And now you want more! More of what you shouldn't, of that which you can't have."

"I can have it! I'm capable! You know it; you've heard me achieve it."

"Thanks to him. And everything has a price in life, Stanford. Who says I'm not that now?"

The laughter that your husband dismissed hurt your soul.

"It's not that simple. He couldn't want you for... I don't understand. Why would he want you for something like this? I don't get it. Why would he want you in exchange for something like this? What do you figure here, but a sack of meat like me?"

"I don't know, you tell me," you shrugged. "Why do you want me, Ford? What do you think I possess, beyond a hole for you to fuck when you're stressed? Do you consider me to have value? Maybe you think I'm a stupid bitch—"

"Don't talk about yourself like that!" he interrupted you, sounding hurt. "One thing has nothing to do with the other here, right now."

"I think it has a lot to do with when your pride outweighs your wife's honor and safety. Does that title do any good? Perhaps the term 'maid' paints a better picture, considering how much you hold me in high regard as a person."

"Stop it."

"And that's all you have to say."

Life feels empty when your marriage suddenly seems like a sham.

You no longer consider Ford a company that provides you with security; now you are truly on your own.

The world is scary.

And this is where he comes to save the day.

More or less, let's assume.

Bill takes this opportunity to start filling your head with hallucinations. You can't escape them.

Your husband is a nightmare that whispers lies in your ear, which later become truths the more you think about them.

Cipher doesn't show up in your dreams until months later, when your husband is at his worst peak of stress and paranoid episodes.

The demon is much more kind, caring and receptive to you than ever before; even manipulating your brain to reproduce his figure in your mind.

At last you meet Mr. Cipher.

"But look who it is! The protagonist of this beautiful story of bloody, forbidden visceral romance from...! Oh, forget it. The title is too long."

The triangle levitates around you with its golden glow. Its edges are sharp; it has only one eye, and it wears a galley and a staff that seems to have a life of its own, far away from you, circling in the air. It is black, just like the galley and the slender limbs of the beast.

The laughter is as loud as ever. For a moment it brings you peace. It's the same—nothing has changed nor is a lie. It's just Bill.

"That's me! Yes, ma'am." Its figure reappears in front of you, with one of its small hands resting on your cheek. "My pronouns are call/me/Bill; but I also go by he/him."

"Are you reading my mind?"

"Oh, you little bag of muscle and nerves! We're in your mind," he laughed. "By the way, you should be nicer to me."

"I don't have to be nice to you," you replied. "You've ruined my life."

"Ruin your life, you say! Oh, no, my dear, but I haven't done anything!" His hand moved away from you, returning to his back as he entwined it with the other. His eye narrowed for a moment; he was fascinated. "But didn't you mean, rather, your husband's life? Isn't it the same as yours?"

"Is that, you suppose, a comment to hurt me?"

"Hurting you is one of my last thoughts when I think of you," he said. "And believe me: I think about you a lot."

"I don't want to know what kind of things."

"And you do very well not to want to!"

Another shrill laugh pierced your ears like a needle. The sound settled painfully in your brain.

"Oh, my dear! So beautiful and so pitifully silly," he sighed. "How I've missed you."

"I find it rather disturbing the way you address me. Especially after the accident..."

"That night!" he interrupted you; so fascinated that his yellow color darkened into a kind of still luminous blush. "Perhaps I was a little thrilled by the tenderness of your flesh—how your heart throbbed! An organ pumping warm blood, under that weak skin."

The triangle was suddenly in front of you. His eye wide open.

"The way your muscles tensed in your face," he continued, "with each eye wide open, as if you could just see me. No need to when you can feel me, little one. And how did that feel? How did you feel under the rough warmth of hands on the smooth skin of your belly?"

"While you were using my husband!" you cried out in shame. "You forced yourself on me with my husband's body. You are a..."

You bit your lip, holding back the string of insults that were about to hang from your mouth. Bill narrowed his eye, humming an unfamiliar tune.

"I'm a... what? Say it, come on!"

"Just shut up," you growled. "Shut your mouth—whatever you use to talk. Shut it."

"A little bird told me something very interesting. I'm sure you want to know! I know you do!"

You covered your face, using your hands to stifle a frustrated scream that could barely overshadow Bill's animated narration. His voice was penetrating your head, which was funny to think about considering the two of you were in your mind; there was no way his voice wasn't getting through to you being in a place like this. There was no escape possible.

"Oh! Yes, that's right," he pointed out with his cane. "You can't wake up until I decide."

"That's crazy!"

"I guess... Whatever! You want to play a game of chess for which you might lose something very valuable to you when I cheat?"

"Of course not!" You rubbed both hands together, trying to stop the trembling all over your body. "Ford will notice I'm not in the kitchen; I always make breakfast. He'll notice, won't he?"

"Dear, are you asking me or are you losing your senses?"

"Isn't it the same?" you turned to look at him, narrowing your eyes. "Wondering something to you, losing my mind—isn't it the same thing?"

Bill rolled his eye, dropping his cane in the air again. "What a mood! Too many gentlemen on this world for so few ladies—"

"What do you want?" you interrupted him. There was no answer. You took a deep breath as you met his gaze upon you; too much intensity, with his figure levitating slower and slower. "Bill, please, is there something you want? Because I can't give it to you. You should talk it over with Ford, like always" you muttered.

"Something I want," he repeated. "Maybe I wasn't very clear with you. In the olden days new romantic prospects used to murder the current spouse. You want that? So freaky, grr—"

"What the fuck are you talking about! My God," you swallowed the string of insults hanging from your throat. "Cipher, let me go right now. Go and talk to my husband and do together whatever it is you have in mind. Leave me alone!"

"I tried to talk to Fordsy about you," rushed the demon defensively, "but I don't think he liked certain details... My bad, I admit it! There are always second chances—although with him we'd be going for number three hundred and twenty something, I think... I don't know, I don't care! Hey, you really don't want to play chess with me?"

"You told him about that night," you whispered. Tears began to tickle your cheeks without your noticing them. "You told him first and he never... Ford never told me—he never told me about it..."

"And then he made you feel terrible about it," he laughed. "How crazy is Fordsy. And what's with all that pushing and shoving this last week? Didn't you see it coming? Ha! Get it? Because you're totally blind—"

"I can't wail and cry if I hear your shitty voice."

"Oh, come on! It's not my fault your husband is a deranged madman. There are lots of fish in the ocean, did you know that? Lots and lots... Lots, really... Then there's me, who's better," he pointed to himself, shrinking his eye in a smile. "I mean, uh, a god, technically."

"A demon."

"Very soon a god," he corrected you.

You frowned, forcing a smile as you said, "But you're still a demon. One trapped far away from our world, aren't you? What assures you that you're going to be anything more than that, when Stanford no longer believes in you?"

"The last thing I care about is your husband," Bill narrowed his eye. "Beyond that, could it be that you're testing me?"

"Testing you?"

"If I can get out of here, if I can catch you anywhere, anytime," he continued, "does that mean I win?"

"For you everything is a game. A demon at the end of the day."

Bill's shrill laughter pierced your ears again. This time you found him in front of you in the blink of an eye; closer, more attentive.

"Does that mean I win?" he whispered. "Because I believe I can have you whenever I want, wherever I want—this is just a taste of my power."

"This is a sign of what a monster you are," you replied in kind. "Ford will not allow you to go beyond your dimension—"

"Fordsy couldn't stop me all those times I messed with you," the demon interrupted you, suddenly surly at the mention of your husband. "It's almost like he doesn't care. Anyway, that brainiac is going to fail sooner or later, and there's no corner of the universe where you can hide your head. I'll be there, in your dreams; and I'll be here, where you don't see me. Everywhere I'm going to be, dear little flesh bag."

"Don't fucking call me that!"

"Nuh-uh!"

You opened your mouth, ready to pour over his expectant eye a couple more insults, but the lack of your own voice led you to wrap both hands around your neck. You thought you were piercing flesh with your fingernails; you caressed muscle, you smeared yourself with blood. You wanted to scream, terrified, alone in the middle of an empty, dark space, but the only response to the nervous silence of your panic attack was another thunderous laugh.

Everything was suddenly red. Red and painful. A sharp stab of pain shot through your body from your throat, and with a shocking jolt you fell to your knees, drowning in your own blood. Warm, viscous, thick. You closed your eyes, too disgusted with the spectacle of intense sensations assaulting your senses, and let yourself be carried away by the spasms that seemed to go on forever. You barely felt him on you.

When you opened your eyes, overcome by another intense, hot sensation, you found Bill leaning over you. His yellow color had migrated to a deep black; red edges like your blood, glowing, and with the same wide-open, watchful eye. You noted with another kind of horror that same morbid charm in his gaze—the ravenous hunger of a natural hunter.

You shook your head, barely moving your lips in a faint 'please'.

"I missed this," he said. "I missed you. It's strange... this feeling, I mean—it's kind of weird. It's unpleasant. But when I finally have you again, when I can touch you, I can see you, I can hear you, that awful feeling goes away; it disappears and I feel good again. I feel better. It's strange, like I told you."

One of his limbs brushed against the bleeding wound on your neck. The nightmare was compounded by the pressure of his fingers playing with your flesh.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. "If you could see yourself. I don't think you'd understand. It would be fun, anyway. See you cry, make you scream," he laughed. "You know, the usual. Stanford makes you cry a lot, doesn't he? He hurts you."

It took you a while to respond, but you were able to give him a nod.

"Everything he does is a product of my own genius," Bill continued. "I'm better. A hell of a lot better. This is just beginning; there's more to this than I've shown you now. A lot more. But that's all right! We have all the time in the world. Lots of nights, lots of dreams. Opportunities, my pretty little bag of nerves."

His limb moved away from your wound, wrenching another spasm from your body. You couldn't take your eyes off the way the demon was spewing a long, slimy tongue from the strip below his eye, starting from the socket. Another repulsive limb. The flesh of your body disappeared in what was a light taste of your own flavor. You noticed the fascination in his small figure; the tremor of ecstasy bursting the moment.

"Fordsy would be delighted to know this," Bill said, squinting his eye. "You think we should tell him?"

'We?' Your own mind gave you away.

"I'm asking for your opinion! That's what couples do, right?"

Silence. Bill let out a sigh; his yellow color back with a particular glow.

"Whatever," he shrugged, "I don't think he'll mind. This may be our little secret." He approached you, levitating gently. "As for you, beautiful little waste, I hope to see you in a better mood soon. There's so much to do! So many things to talk about. Our plans ahead, of course—the big moment. What a thrill!"

Your eyes began to close. The pain gradually, gently subsided. It was getting harder and harder to hear Bill chattering.

"... portal, and the... But maybe a crazy... you and me, of..."

Before you faced the impending total darkness, Bill's intense gaze invaded your mind. This time you stopped listening to him. In spite of that, a new sharp pang of pain pierced your head; it upset you completely, as one who feels disarmed at the discomfort of their own body, and made you wake up again. This time there was no yellow demon in front of you. There was nothing, directly. Not that nothing of one whose eyes are covered—but that kind of empty expectation, typical of the blind.

'Returned home,' you thought with a sigh.

The morning was quiet, but not calm. Bill's nightmare had left you jittery, with tremors and a nagging itch in your neck. A sick kind of paranoia kept you standing between the bedroom and the bathroom, unable to go any further. It was the murmur of timid footsteps downstairs that made you make the decision: tell Ford, give him the chance again. Who else did you have in the world but him?

You walked down the stairs with the itch in your neck increasing as your husband's silence to your calls did. At a certain point, and with madness tearing tears from your eyes, you ended up tripping over an obstacle on the floor where you thought the living room was. You rested your hands as soon as you felt the blow of the air like a whip; the pain came seconds later, along with the roughness of a jacket.

Ford did not wear such jackets.

You pushed your fingers against the leather, dragging your nails along the inner fur. You felt the coolness of some pins, and maybe found a couple of holes.

"Ford?"

"He's not here."

A man's broken voice took you by surprise. You jumped up, fell back down, and began to crawl backwards across the floor. You forgot about the pain and itching in your neck.

"Who are you?! What did you do to my husband—"

"Just... just a moment! Please!" The voice broke even more, as if choked with an inevitable cry. "You said husband—you must be her, I mean, his girl. His wife. Logically, isn't it?" an unfunny laugh broke through his words. "Please, I'm not here to do anything bad..."

"Who the fuck are you?!"

Silence. A long one, interrupted by a couple of accelerated breaths.

"Stanley," the man replied. "I'm Stanley Pines. I'm Stanford's brother."

"He doesn't... No, because he doesn't have a brother. You are lying to me—"

"Are you blind?"

This time the silence came from you.

"I didn't think... Sorry, I didn't get a good look at you," he rushed back. "I'm sorry, ma'am."

"Stanley Pines," you said, "is that really your name? Stanford never told me about you." You craned your neck, gathering as much air as you could. "Stanf—"

"He's not here."

"What do you mean? Did he go out or something? Again," you sighed.

Silences were commonplace at this point. You had time to stand up with the help of the supposed Stanley. You let him guide you to an armchair, allowing him as much freedom as a tired woman could allow a man this robust. You tried not to let fear blind your senses.

If he was inside the house, it meant he hadn't set off any traps. Was he telling the truth?

"Did Ford tell you where he went?" you insisted in the absence of an answer. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

"I don't think he..." a heavy, shaky sigh. "Sorry, but I think Stanford—I don't think he can come, today, at least..."

"What do you mean?"

But you didn't need a clear answer. Stanley was still talking, saying things very unimportant to you; and yet there was something special that leapt into your mind along with the memory of a thunderous laugh. The word 'portal' throbbed in rhythm with your heart, leaving in its wake a trail of horror from which a couple of tears were born. Only then did you return to the world—along with Stanley's hand caressing your back.

"I'm really sorry," he continued in a soft cry. "I didn't mean to, I swear..."

"Through the portal?"

"It was too fast, and... and then we pushed each other a lot, and there was screaming—"

"Then I guess he's not coming back," you sighed shakily, interrupting him. "Ford's not coming back. My God..."

"I'm going to fix that thing. You have my word."

The image of Bill in your dreams quickly jumped into your memories. You reached desperately for Stan's hands, taking them in yours. You stared into the void, hoping to behold his face of -possible- intrigue.

"You can't touch that thing!" you exclaimed in warning. "Stanley, you can't go near that portal, please. You have no idea what's in store for us on the other side."

"My brother is trapped in there! God, woman, your own husband!"

"This is beyond him right now!"

His hands released yours; a push let you know that he had risen from your side.

"You're crazy," he growled. "As crazy as he is. Just a crazy couple!"

"You have no idea what this is, Stanley Pines... You have no idea. You haven't the faintest idea. Am I crazy? Do you think I've lost my mind? I think you saw Ford very well; I'd like to think there's something of him in you—that you understand why I'm this way. Whose fault is it!"

"Your husband could be dead and you just go around attributing blame!"

"Our lives are at stake! Good Lord, Stanley, you have no idea what it was like to live with him!"

The image of Bill wouldn't leave your head. At this point you didn't know if you were thinking of Ford, or the triangular demon.

"I'm going to fix that fucking machine," Stanley spat angrily, "and I'm not going to let some crazy woman stop me over a couple of superstitions. I've had enough of that with Stanford. I want my brother back, and I'm going to get him. Whatever it takes."

You heard his footsteps walk away from the room, and seconds later a slamming door vibrated through your bare feet. Until then you hadn't felt the cold seeping into your sensitive flesh. Nothing seemed to matter enough to you.

It wasn't about Ford anymore; now you had to deal with the nervous insanity of his so-called brother. Could it get even worse?

Maybe.

#fanfic #reader insert #reader #obssesion #yandere #angst #horror #dead dove do not eat #gravity falls #bill cipher gravity falls #gravity falls bill #bill cipher #bill cipher x reader #bill cypher

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caitchercatlady · 3 days ago

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Sleeping Over at Ramshackle w/Jade & Floyd

*I'm so sorry that I posted this so late. I've been dealing with some life stuff these past few weeks, and that's given me a hard time with writing this story. I hope you guys enjoy it now that I've managed to post it in time.

Image credit @mostroloungeofficial

The last time Jade and Floyd came to Ramshackle, they nearly trashed the place for Azul’s new venture. Now that the dorm is safe in your possession, it's much more relaxing without the tweels messing up everything. They're practically banned from staying for more than two minutes (although that within itself is generous of you).

One Friday, you encounter Azul and the tweels in the hallway. Azul asks for a huge favor from you. He explains that he’s making some renovations for the Monstro Lounge over the weekend, and the Leech brothers would greatly appreciate it if they can stay over at Ramshackle until the renovations are complete. You point out that the Lounge and the dorms are entirely unrelated, so why do the tweels need to stay with you?

Azul pulls you aside and tells you a story about the last time he let Floyd and Jade Leech be in charge of Monsto Lounge work. “It cost more than the budget, and I want to keep my profits in the black. Do you catch my drift, Prefect?” Between the two of you, Azul is indeed the business professional. He sees your scrunching face of hesitation when Azul offers up a deal you couldn’t refuse. “If you do this favor for me, I assure you that every and any mess that comes from those two shall be cleaned and reimbursed.”

“How can I know that you’ll keep that promise?” you ask.

“Oh, (Y/N), you break my heart. You still don’t trust me?”

You give him the death glance.

Azul snaps up a contract in mid air and lets you read every detail to make sure that he wasn’t going to pull the rug under you later.

The evening falls onto Night Raven, and as you finish preparing two guest rooms (unsure if even the boys wanna share a room), you get the expected knock at the door. You don’t expect anything normal to come from these twins, and you’re scared to find out what they’re up to.

Jade thanks you for opening your dorm to them in their time of need. Floyd also thanks you, but as chill as he is, Floyd is the first to make himself comfortable by going into your kitchen to see what you got to eat. This puts Grim into protective mode over his tuna cans (not that Floyd wants canned tuna anyway). This doesn’t become a bigger problem as Jade reminds Floyd to be respectful while they are guests.

“You have to ask permission before you go scavenging like a catfish in someone’s fridge,” Jade explains without an inch of scolding in his tone.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, Shrimpy. May I scavenge through your fridge?” replies the other brother.

You clarify that you actually have ordered some delivery for dinner, so the tweels can indulge in whatever is on the kitchen counter.

“See, Floyd? When you are patient, you get rewarded,” says Jade with an all-too-pleasant grin.

The tweels thank you as they treat themselves to your offerings. You help Grim crack open a tuna can as they eat, and you can see that Floyd is still moody.

“Aye, Jade. You know what would perk up this dower, old place?”

Jade taps his chin. “Perhaps a bit of music? What do you think, (Y/N)? Would you mind some music?”

You guess that music wouldn’t be a problem, but you soon remember that you don’t know what music the Leech twins have in mind. However, it’s too late to go back on your word because the moment Floyd activates his smartphone, the biggest blast of orchestral jazz explodes from the speaker.

Grim nearly falls off the kitchen counter. You grasp your heart, telling yourself not to have a heart attack in the center of Ramshackle dorm since you and Grim know that the floors aren’t going to rescue you as you fall. The twins are dancing with each other in the living room as if it’s the happiest of times. Maybe that’s a good thing as they have no ill will against Azul. Floyd’s mood is improved by the proof of his loud scat singing. Not even Kalim parties this much at Ramshackle.

“(Y/N), don’t be such a wallflower,” Floyd coxes. “Dance the stiff away!”

Jade stretches his arm, takes you by the hand, and pulls you into the small yet blaring celebration of…Seven knows what.

Grim goes running up the stairs, shouting, “If you need me, I’m gonna protect my ears!” along the way.

Despite your mind spinning, letting yourself loose isn’t such a terrible thing after all. In fact, sharing your dance time with both casually dressed tweels increases the fun. All three of you don’t even make it upstairs for the rest of the night.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney #anime #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst wonderland #stories #twst disney #jade leech #floyd leech #twst floyd #twst jade #octavinelle #tweels #leech twins #birthday series #birthday jade #birthday floyd

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eisforeidolon · 3 days ago

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Question: I have two questions, one for Jensen, and one for both of you.

Jared: Okay. So no Jared question? That's fine.

Jensen: Nope.

Question: First for Jensen, I need to know the story behind this picture, please? [both walk over to look, Jensen mutters something like 'Oh, God']

Jensen: I honestly don't know the story behind that picture. I don't know A) what I'm doing, I'm like sitting in a cast chair and I'm just like pulling my shirt up [mimes the pose]. And I don't -

Jared: If you got it, flaunt it.

Jensen: I don't. Uh, I don't know, I don't know what I would have - I don't even know who took that photo. Or how it got out, but - or why. This is - um.

Jared: I think, I think, here's why -

Jensen: I might have been getting mic'd?

Jared: Yeah, probably.

Jensen: Cause they, when they wire us, when they put the microphones on us, they tape it [tapping center of his chest] to your chest - I mean, there's a few ways they can do it, sometimes they'll wire the jacket, sometimes they'll put it, if you're wearing a tie, they'll put it in the knot of the tie. If you've got a sharp eye, sometimes you can see 'em. But most of the time they'll just tape it to your chest and then the wire kind of goes [gestures down his chest and around to his back] around [points downward] sometimes it goes to an ankle pack, sometimes it clips onto the back of your belt. Anyway. I was probably just going like, [gestures as if pulling up his shirt] okay, wire me. And the person who wires has to put up with that kind of - the shenanigans that we do when we're like [does the fake laugh thing, and shakes back and forth].

Jared: Also, in fairness, I think that was like season one or two? And so twenty years ago, we didn't realize, we were slow, we were not the generation where everything you do lasts forever? And so it's like [fake laugh, pops hip, makes fart noise] Ahh, I'm farting, and it exists twenty fucking years later, so. Naivety on both of our parts, I think.

Jensen: So I don't know if that answers your question, but that's the best I can come up with, so. What was the other question that he might help with anyway?

Question: Both of you, do you feel any pressure from the fans to show that you're still close friends? When you search on Google 'Jensen and Jared' there is the first question that pops there is 'Are they still friends?'. And whatever happens between you two, people just watching, waiting, like are you still close or not -

Jared: So I think, so -

Question: You have this pressure to show that you're still close -

Jensen: It's exhausting.

Jared: [grabs his shoulder] Wow.

Jensen: I'm so glad you brought this up. [turns to Jared] I am, I am exhausted pretending to be your friend -

Jared: That's actually my, that's actually my question that I put into the Google search. I'm like -

Jensen: [cracks up] I haven't heard from him in weeks!

Jared: I haven't heard from Jensen in two days [mimics typing] are they still friends? Does he still like me, circle yes or no? [Jensen cracks up more] I don't feel - I'll speak for myself - I don't feel any pressure to [finger quotes] prove that I'm friends with Jensen or my br- or anybody, you know what I mean? Like, life - we have lives, and we live in different states and, like, if I see him every day for a month, great! If I don't see him for seven months, great! Like if he's good or needs something, or I need something - but yeah, I do find that question funny. And I think it's also, I think it's like, from, was it French Mistake, or? It was like, episode, yeah I did see something online where they're like, 'oh, they're talking'. It's French Mistake.

Jensen: Oh! Yeah yeah yeah.

Jared: And then it became a thing, where they were like -

Jensen: Oh, is that real? Do [they?] not like each other? Yeah.

Jared: We also fucking - I have an alpaca! [Jensen cracks up again] Like, no one hinged on that, like does Jared really have a picture of himself in Warhol style and his wife and a tanning bed and an alpaca at his house? Like no, I don't.

Jensen: You're not far off, though. [laughs]

Jared: Close, close. Got one out of four.

Jensen: Yeah, no. I think there's also - [points at Jared] you kind of touched on it a little bit. You know, I think anybody who can just see us together whether we're onstage or whether we're back stage? Can tell that there's a, you know, legit love for each other. And always will be. Whether - like he said - whether we see each other every day for six weeks or whether we go six weeks without seeing each other. Or without even, like, checking in. Which, we usually text back and forth and stuff, just, you know, about hey, what d'you think - what're you doing with this, or hey I need to ask you a question -

Jared: We have a Wordle text thread.

Jensen: [they talk over each other here, so this next is approximate] Yeah, we Wordle each other every day. Um, so, that would be pretty, again, pretty exhausting to keep that [finger quotes] facade up, if it was a facade and it's not.

#chicon 2024 #j2 gold panel #long post

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rei-ismyname · 2 days ago

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X-MEN #7 From The Ashes

Possibly the biggest downside to the circular, repetitive nature of X-Men comics is that real life is awful enough. Jettisoning the hope of the Krakoan age for the misery porn of From The Ashes feels kinda callous and depressing in a world where there are multiple ongoing genocides and the USA just said yes to fascism again. Nevertheless, join me in some light escapism - a little Magneto goes a long way. Spoilers for X-Men #7.

I've also been spelling Jed Mackay's name wrong. Sorry

Running throughout this issue is Magneto's flashback to The Iron Night. The 'this is Logan behaviour' exchange from the previews has been all over my dash and it's great to get more of this dynamic. It's fantastic to see someone in universe say it out loud - Logan is a whiny little bitch, often a hypocrite, and can be blind to his immortality privilege. Scott knows that better than anyone - his wife's boyfriend throws a tanty like no other. They love him, but it's another reason why he's not the best Wolverine. I hope 'Logan behaviour' sticks around in the fandom.

This is Logan behaviour, Idie

I appreciate the informal nature of the Piper discussion. For one, you don't want to scare the kid or make her feel unwelcome. Idie said that she 'couldn't wait for you (Cyclops) and Magneto' re: Idie - having Psylocke be the one to spell it out for her is effective. The X-Men IS a team and the stakes are incredibly high. Besides, as Beast said in my first screenshot they have a Cerebro. This test could have been done from afar without the risk, and it's implied that it was.

I'm enjoying seeing Idie behaving compassionately, but it looks like she's got some serious anger and mistrust of authority (both justified) from Krakoa. It's great she's getting this kind of character focus and I hope it's followed up on. So many threads and beats have been setup that are likely to be disrupted by the Raid on Graymalkin event kicking off next week, but I'll reserve my judgement on that for when this first arc is concluded.

This is Logan behaviour, wild sentinel.

Gotta love Max and Scott's friendship being shown as they drink crappy beers and bask in Magneto rhetoric. I don't want to question the expert, but is this sentinel Wild or wild? It's clearly not an ORCHIS Iron Man model, but Wild Sentinel has a very specific meaning.

Okay, clearly Wild. It's not attacking either of them, though. Kind of Cyclops to spell out the Star Trek Borg adaptive schtick they've got going on. This is the action scene of the issue, the mandated violence.

I don't mean that entirely pejoratively either. I'm just as susceptible to the Magneto and Cyclops power fantasy as the next person, though it's a bit of a dirty trick to wait until issue 7 to show it.

This is NOT Logan behaviour, Magneto.

Sigh. I love your sense of drama Magneto. Play to the crowd, old man. I hope your monologue doesn't become ironic. Oh wait, we already know it has. This could have been a clever moment.

Uh oh, looks like his knees are weak and arms are heavy. Vomit on his sweater already...

So we see the moment Mags' powers start to shit the bed, right after a Wild Sentinel attack. I'd be suspecting Cassandra Nova's involvement just off these two data points tbh. Which idiot resurrected her anyway?

Oh, fuck off. Logan behaviour, Mackay.

R-LDS sounds like horse shit to me. Scott says 'we don't know that for sure' so how does this speculative condition have an acronym already? Mags is speaking as if it's a fact, but he doesn't even have the same body The Five resurrected. Maybe he has Umari-Key-Waiting Room-Brashear Portal Syndrome. Obviously he's scared but this feels like an idiot ball moment, and a cynical jab at Krakoa. The Five was something they got right, even with Sinister in the mix. The implications would be insane. 16 million Genoshans were resurrected, 250k Krakoans (give or take), a whole bunch of vulnerable human children via The Phoenix Foundation, Captain America, and 1000 fucking years of Sinisterized clones etc that had nothing of the sort.

No, there's way too many data points that apply to Magneto alone to make seriously considering The Five's resurrections as the source of patient zero's malady. It would be scientifically irresponsible to get to the point of naming it and then an acronym for that. Mags is good enough at science to know this, and Beast is too. I'm no scientist, but it manifested during a fight with a Wild Sentinel. I assume they have better resources than the Marvel wiki I'm using, but that robot/Cassandra Nova is my prime suspect - the lady they know for certain to be involved in ongoing genetic fuckery - activating X-Genes. Though not Piper Cobb...

Or yes Piper Cobb? Smash cut cliffhangers aside, this would be a great time to retcon Homo Sapiens Superior right the fuck out of existence. It's never made sense, and not just the 'Superior' part. Again, I'm not a scientist but I'm certain that's not how phylogeny works. They're mutated humans, but I don't live in 616 which canonically operates on impossible physics, so idk. My fingers are crossed but my expectations are nil.

That is Logan behaviour, masked kidnapper

Okay, we'd known from solicits that Beast would be getting beat down in captivity at Graymalkin. I had speculated he'd give himself up to get inside, but the ol' bag over the head works too. I dig his outfit.

X-Men #7 is worth reading IMO, and it's one of the better ones based off Magneto content alone. Last issue I wrote that the formula was becoming easier to spot, and I stand by that. A handful of character moments, some new information about one of the ongoing mysteries but it piles more questions on top of half answers and speculation. For example, we get to see Scott and Max fight a sentinel and be friends. There's new information there but a LOT more questions. The characters are at the point of absurd speculation which raises tension but doesn't make them look very competent. To kick off the event 'Raid on Graymalkin' they went with a final page bag over the head instead of any choice and comic book events notoriously derail everything so friends can argue and punch each other.

All that said, it's only *just* acceptable in my opinion - and that's the best I can say for the rest of the line too. We know that there's been ongoing issues with writers simply not knowing major Krakoan plot points, though they probably have the excuse that they were writing before FOTHOX/ROTPOX ended. Surely there's someone in charge of overseeing all this, like Hickman was as Head of X. *Looks at the credits* Tom Brevoort - Conductor of X... That's a fancy way to say 'line editor/hatchet man.' I'll stop there and save it for the From The Ashes piece I'm doing, but spoilers: I'm not impressed with how this guy keeps failing upwards.

What did you think? Thanks for reading.

#x comics #x men #magneto #cyclops #krakoa #psylocke #idie okonkwo #piper cobb #wild sentinel #cassandra nova #glob #marvel #comics #wolverine #Logan behaviour #jed mackay #from the ashes #Logan Behavior

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apoloadonisandnarcissus · 24 hours ago

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What's the deal with Sauron and Elrond connection in Season 2?

We all know of Sauron’s obsession with Galadriel, but what about how Elrond kept showing up on his plot in Season 2?

First, we have this interaction with Prince Durin in 2x03; where Annatar/Sauron joins Celebrimbor conversation with Durin and Disa, and they are discussing Elrond. And Durin sees right through him.

I assure you, Herald Elrond said he could think of little else. than helping his Dwarven friends. He speaks of you so fondly. […] Elrond said that you were the wisest of all the Dwarves.

Prince Durin being suspicious of Sauron might be a Easter egg for Tolkien nerds, because Mairon was a Maia of Aulë, and betrayed his Vala to join Melkor/Morgoth. The Dwarves are Children of Aulë, created by Aulë himself as companions (I won’t go into the whole tale in here because it’s beside the point). So having one of them being distrusting of Sauron, and seeing right through his deception can be a nod to that.

Anyway, this is not the last time Elrond will show up in connection with Sauron in Season 2. In 2x05, when attempting to manipulate Celebrimbor into making the Nine for Men, Sauron gives a few examples of Men who rose above darkness (and he must have been screaming internally mentioning every one of them):

Yes. You are right. Of course. Men are capable of great frailty. But when the darkness falls, there are always some who rise forth and shine. Eärendil, Tuor, Beren, son of Barahir.

Eärendil is Elrond’s father, and son of Tuor (Elrond’s grandfather who married Elwing, Lúthien and Beren’s granddaughter). Which means, Sauron is going through all of Elrond’s genealogy in this scene.

And then, Adar, in 2x07, mentions Melian; Elrond’s ancestor. We have both Sauron and Adar bringing up Elrond’s ancestry in Season 2.

In fact, the entire “tent scene” with Adar and Elrond in 2x07 is a direct parallel to Adar and Sauron’s scenes, in Mordor, in 2x01:

Both scenes, start with Adar sitting down in a place of power, and getting up to approach Halbrand/Elrond;

Both Elrond/Halbrand-Sauron meet Adar with the same purpose: “let my people/Galadriel go”. Or "yours will die". In 2x01 this is explicit, in 2x07 it’s the subtext;

Adar rubs the might of his war forces and Orc legions on Elrond and Sauron's faces, and how they can’t possible expect to defeat him;

In both scenes, "Sauron" is mentioned in connection with the Elves and Eregion;

In both scenes, Sauron and Elrond use the Orcs lives as leverage against Adar:

In 2x01, Galadriel is mentioned by Sauron, and in 2x07, she’s actually there, and she’s the prisoner (instead of Sauron) and the “my people” Elrond is actually there to free;

Adar is deceived by Sauron and Elrond in both scenes: swearing fealty (2x01); the pin (2x07).

Death threats coming full circle between 2x01 and 2x07, with Sauron and Elrond:

Adar (2x01): You will tell me everything you think you know of this sorcerer now. Or I will spill the words from your throat.

Adar (2x07): The Ring for Galadriel's life. What is it to be? Elrond (2x07): Ask me on the field, when the neck with a blade against it is yours.

What's the backstory?

Back in 1x08, Sauron/Halbrand also spent weeks with Elrond in Eregion, since he was also there the entire time, overseeing the work alongside Galadriel; since this was the task Gil-galad appointed to him.

Elrond is the one who finds Galadriel in the Glanduin river, after she rejects Sauron’s offer and he flees.

And despite Galadriel keeping Halbrand’s true identity under wraps, and not revealing what truly happened, Elrond is the one who puts two and two together, and realizes Halbrand is not the King of the Southlands, and tricked them.

Season 2

However, only in 2x01, Elrond is made aware that Halbrand was, in fact, Sauron, when Galadriel herself reveals it to him and Gil-galad.

And Elrond is furious, because he absolutely trusted Galadriel, and that trust is now broken. Galadriel did allowed the Three rings of power to be forged, even though she knew that Sauron has been at Eregion all along.

Adding this to fact that Galadriel was so obsessed in finding Sauron in Season 1, and even talked about this with Elrond himself in 1x01, when he advises her to return to Valinor and find healing there:

During Season 2, Elrond is also the one who sees right through the rings of power, and understands they might be a ploy on Sauron’s masterplan. And he’s absolutely right. Because we know, from Tolkien legendarium, the Three are connected to Sauron’s power, and become mere pieces of jewelry when the One Ring gets destroyed on the Third Age, losing all of its magical properties. “Rings of Power” build upon this, and had Sauron himself at Eregion, handling the mithril (and probably infusing it with his intention to heal Middle-earth from Morgoth’s corruption, which is his goal).

In Season 2, Elrond is, clearly, Sauron’s greatest opponent in his rings of power plot concerning the Elves. Until he, too, gets deceived, because we know from Tolkien’s letters, these rings are not “wholly good” and the Elves are in the wrong by using them.

Anyway, Elrond not only attempts to have the rings destroyed (wrecking Sauron’s plan), but he also keeps antagonizing Galadriel by her wearing Nenya, perhaps in the hope she might take it off, or see the ring as evil. And Sauron is aware of all of this.

And can this be the reason why Elrond also seems to be on Sauron’s mind? Indeed, but there also might be another reason on top of this.

@love-and-doom shared one of their theories with me, and I think it makes sense, and explains a lot. According to them, Sauron might blame Elrond for his failure in bringing Galadriel to his side in 1x08.

Galadriel herself confessed to Celebrimbor, in 2x07, that she wanted to take Sauron’s offer and that she wanted what he offered her (be Queen of Middle-earth with Sauron as her king). And, maybe, had not Elrond show up, Sauron might have succeeded. What this theory implies is that Sauron show Galadriel the vision of her drowning in the Sundering Seas (the moment when he saved her), but we don’t know how this vision was supposed to end from Sauron POV because Elrond shows up and Sauron has to flee.

Sauron clearly has the background check on Elrond (as we’ve seen in 2x05), and is aware he is a thorn on his side. This might also be another Easter egg because of Sauron vs. Melian during the First Age; and not only Melian herself but Melian’s daughter (Lúthien), too, who was responsible for Sauron’s greatest and most spectacular defeat.

Then, we also have other parallels between these two characters:

Sauron and Elrond in connection with white horses:

Sauron's illusion in 2x06:

Elrond mourns his horse, 2x07:

Elrond and Sauron (+ Galadriel) with the same face wound (Elrond in 2x07; and Sauron and Galadriel in 2x08):

I saw several fans making the comparison of these wounds with Arwen’s in “Fellowship of the Ring”, because it’s on the same side and very similar, indeed.

However, I’m not sure what is this suppose to mean: Elrond is Arwen's father, and Galadriel is her grandmother, yes, but what does Sauron have to do with it?

Then, Elrond is the one who picks up Nenya (the ring Sauron wanted), and uses it to heal Galadriel, in 2x08:

He also returns Nenya to Galadriel, as a nod to their scene in 2x04; when Galadriel gives it to him for safe keeping, and he reluctantly agrees. Now he returns the ring in good will, to symbolize the end of their feud, and how Elrond now trusts the Three:

I’m curious to see if this dynamic will continue to play out in Season 3, and I wonder what all of this means.

#sauron trop #sauron rings of power #elrond rings of power #elrond rop #galadriel trop #galadriel rings of power #Saurondriel #sauron x galadriel

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hlficlibrary · 4 hours ago

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HL FIC LIBRARY ☕ Coffee Shop Fics

Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

☕ I’d Still Dance With You by kikikryslee / @flamboyantommo {M, 57k}

“Liam, if you met someone that you really liked, would age matter?” Louis asked. “I suppose so; to a point, anyway.” “Like, how young would you go?” Liam thought it over. “Uh… I don’t know. Like, 24?” Louis groaned and dropped his head in his hands. “Why? How old is this guy you like?” “Twenty-one,” Louis muttered. “Hang on. He’s 21, and you’re… what? Twenty-eight?” “Yeah.” “Wow. Um… well, OK. That’s a, uh, that’s a gap.”

Or, the 21/28 age difference fic where Harry is younger than Louis thought he was, and even though Louis’ head is telling him not to pursue anything, his heart doesn’t seem to agree.

☕ I Really Like Your Styles: The Baking Advent-ure by @homosociallyyours {T, 34k}

Louis isn't much for frills, and the coffee shop he co-owns with his best friend Liam is evidence of that. Yes, it's got a decent sized, well-kept industrial kitchen, but Louis insists that people come to coffee shops for coffee, not mediocre pastry and plastic wrapped cookies. When Liam's campaign for serving treats turns into watching a few baking accounts on whichever popular app he's on, there's one that really gets on Louis' nerves: "I Like Your Styles." With his chipper demeanor and over the top descriptions of the food he makes, Louis is sure that the (unfortunately cute) baker is full of it. Nothing that adorable could possibly be worth the hype.

It doesn't actually take much for him to eat his words...and some quality baked goods, while he's at it.

☕ love drunk, waiting on a miracle by @hellolovers13 {E, 30k}

Christmas inspired Coffeshop AU

Harry has a bit of a crush on a customer. Thankfully, the feeling is mutual.

These are their first 24 days together.

☕ And That’s The Tea by @2tiedships2 {M, 27k}

I’d like an Earl Grey with milk and sugar, please.

Louis had the phrase memorized, even though it had disappeared off its place on his upper arm over thirteen years ago now.

At fourteen he didn’t understand. Soulmarks don’t just disappear. Not unless…

Unless one of them dies.

Or, the one where Louis loses his soulmate before even getting the chance to meet them, and he is in no way prepared for the kind of distraction his new friend Harry proves to be.

☕ Friday I'm in Love by @perfectdagger {M, 25k}

It has a pattern, Harry has noticed.It’s not that he has been observing the guy who regularly comes to the coffee shop for the past few weeks; but he totally has.It’s also not Harry’s fault that he’s infatuated with the guy who apparently follows a very repetitive schedule.

Or the one where Harry works at the coffee shop and Louis goes there almost every day and Harry is head over heels for him, making his love life look like a The Cure song.

Inspired by Friday I’m in Love by The Cure (obviously).

☕ From The Heart (series) by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom {E, 24k}

Every Tuesday, Louis spends his day off holed up in his favorite coffee-come-bookshop, writing his little stories as part of the WordPlay challenge while daydreaming about the resident barista, Harry. Each week a new word prompt is revealed and Louis adds to his series of short stories about Henry, the owner of a B&B in the Cotswolds who has curly hair and dimples, Lewis, his long term guest who just happens to be a writer, and Tigger, Henry’s cat.

As Louis and Harry’s friendship develops, could his fantasy world spill out into real life? And how does that reader who leaves the lovely comments with the teacup emoji seem to be able to read Louis’ mind?

☕ ever since new york by @sunflower-live / sunflower_live {NR, 22k}

Louis works at a coffee shop in NYC and he pines endlessly after the boy who lives above it.

☕ blend into my favourite colour by rainbowninja167 / @rainbowtitania {T, 19k}

Harry often wonders if they’ll ever meet in real life. And if Harry will recognize Tommo the instant they see each other, like somehow their souls will just know. Or maybe Harry’s soul is shouting “Louis!” too loudly for any other signals to go through.

Harry is a barista with a secret Werewolf High fan blog, a desperate crush on a customer named Louis, and a best friend on Tumblr who always makes him laugh. Louis can't figure out why the barista at his favorite coffee shop keeps creepily staring at him, and to make matters worse, he may be slightly in love with a friend he met online.

A love square involving two boys, one TV fandom, and one food fight.

☕ The Importance of being Earnest by @louloubabys1992 / louloubaby92 {NR, 16k}

Harry cannot help but pay extra attention to Louis' order, even if it is just a warm cup of tea with a dash of milk and no sugar. He also makes sure that the Danish Louis asks for is warm and fresh from the oven and not the one in the display, even if it means delaying Louis a bit when he fetches said Danish from the kitchen. It's all worth it when Louis smiles his crinkly smile at him before he rushes off to work.

Man, he's hot, he cannot help but think.

Or Harry is a barista who's been harboring a crush on Louis for months. Little does he know that Louis actually likes him back.

☕ Before We Ever Wrote a Song by @casuallyhl {E, 13k}

Harry just can't be around Louis when he's flirting outrageously with Chad Michael Murray. So what if he's the star of one of the country's most popular shows? Harry's seen an episode or two and it's not that great. Sure, the drama is exciting and all the actors are attractive and it’s shot in his hometown, but still. Not that great. Certainly not great enough for Louis to fall over himself every time Chad enters the coffee shop.

Harry doesn’t want to watch the over-the-top spectacle, which is why he usually retreats.

And besides, it hurts to see the boy he’s in love with flirting with someone else.

Or, Harry and Louis work in a coffeehouse on a film studios lot, and Harry wishes Louis would pay half as much attention to him as he does the famous actors.

☕ A Love Stronger Than Espresso by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix {G, 12k}

Louis is entirely dependent on caramel mocha in the mornings, but soon he finds that there's one thing at the coffee shop he needs more than coffee - a cute barista named Harry.

aka: The one where Harry is a cute barista guy and Louis plays hard to get by using a different name to order coffee each day

☕ John Doe by FitzAndLarry {G, 12k}

John Doe I don't even know you, but I know fo' sho' That you are beautiful, so baby let me know Your name Damn what's his name?

xxx

There's a boy taking the stand at the open mic night where Harry works as a barista, and he's going to find out the boy's name if it's the last thing he does.

An ode to Never Shout Never, and a story about finding a new home.

☕ Coming Home Through the Dark to You by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup {G, 6k}

Harry Styles works at the Fox in the Snow, the most hipster coffee joint around. He's got too many roommates and a best friend he met his first day of university who he might very well be head-over-heels for.

☕ ‘Sup by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics {G, 6k}

Gemma really wants her little brother to sign up for a dating app and get back in the game after a messy divorce. Harry thinks he’s way too old to swipe. They compromise to devastatingly embarrassing results.

Meanwhile, all Louis wants is to finish the play he’s been commissioned to write, but one of the regulars at his local coffee shop keeps distracting him.

ft. older larry, pushy gemma, harry being a disaster gay and silver fox louis.

☕ Time Of The Season by alienharry {NR, 6k}

When writer's block stands in the way of Harry completing his second novel, he turns to the sweet-smelling omega behind the counter of his new favorite coffee shop for inspiration.

☕ I Kinda Need A Hero (Is It You) by @fallinglikethis {NR, 5k}

Louis is a barista who’s had his heart broken. Harry is the boy who wants to put the pieces back together.

☕ That's Not My Name by @lululawrence {NR, 3k}

He froze for a second, because he hadn’t expected to be hit with such an intense gaze. Green eyes beneath a beanie and loads of curly hair made Louis miss a beat before coming back to himself.

“Uh, hi. Sorry. Can I take your order?”

The boy (man?) gave a shy smile and said, “Just a caramel macchiato, please. Grande.” Louis nodded as he scribbled onto the cup and punched it into the register.

As the boy held his phone to the machine to pay, Louis asked, “Name please?”

“Oh, uh, Marcus.”

Louis scribbled Marcus on the cup and handed it off, but not before giving the boy a smile and nodding over to where he’d be able to pick up his drink. Louis watched him a bit longer than he probably should have, then forced himself to move on.

Or the one where the cute boy coming into the coffee shop gives Louis a different name every time...for over a month.

☕ A Cuppa Courage by @juliusschmidt {G, 3k}

Liam kicks Harry's shin, picking up another cup to fill. “He seems like he’d be a good catch, if you liked guys, I mean.”

I do like guys, Harry does not say, even though he’d like to shout it at the top of his lungs. I DO LIKE GUYS.

[a fluffy lil' fall coffee shop coming out au.]

☕ cursing the cosmos by 5sexualhomos / @hogwartzlou {NR, 3k}

In a world where people have timers counting down to when they meet their soulmate, finding love is easy. Harry meets Louis in a coffee shop one day. They slowly fall in love, the only thing holding them back is that they aren't soulmates.

☕ baby baby, you're a caramel macchiato by @missandrogyny {T, 3k}

So, yeah, Harry doesn't think it's that far of a stretch to call himself a good barista. There are some particularly bad ones, and some particularly good ones, and, with his work ethic, his skill, and his charm, he'd probably be lumped in with the latter group.

☕ tell me what you need by @disgruntledkittenface {G, 2k}

“And a fresh cherry?” he asks, pinching his bottom lip between his fingers. He waits as Louis stares him down, his brow furrowing.“No? What the fuck,” Louis rasps, looking bewildered.

coffeeshop AU based on this iconic prompt:

harry: can i please get a semi-iced half caramel half vanilla decaf latte with no foam using fresh almond milk with a small swirl of whipped cream covered in a pinch of cinnamon and a fresh cherry? louis: ...no? what the fuck

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aebinspa · 8 hours ago

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beg for you

PAIRING: winter x y/n reader

SUMMARY: Winter is your trusted, yet hated, co-worker. You both work for the South Korean secret service and are known to be a match made in heaven when it comes to killing or making someone disappear. Your already precarious relationship changes when you are assigned to find, and mercilessly kill, Choi Ye-won, a North Korean spy who has settled in South Korean territory.

GENRES: angst, violence, suggestive, death, blood, bad ending!

WORD COUNT: 3k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! as you can see graphic design is my passion (i tried please ignore). i don't know if i'm good at writing stories like this but i tried!! i'll make it up to you by writing next time something extremely sweet for minjeong :))

It was night. Not even a sound seemed to rise in that total silence. The only noise the human ear could have heard was your breathing and your colleague's combined. The one who broke the religious silence was your colleague who began to reload the magazine of her gun. “Winter, for the love of God, be quiet” whispering had never been easy for you and, with a colleague like that who drove you crazy every second, all you could train was patience, certainly not silence. “There is no one in this hole in the forest anyway. And what's a mission without a little action?” she replied sarcastically to you with a raised eyebrow.

You, Panther, and Winter, your colleague, had been tasked by the South Korean secret service agency to find, interrogate, and then eliminate without any mercy Choi Ye-Won, informant and daughter of one of the most important men, at a managerial level, of North Korea. The young woman had been in South Korea for a few years and could get a huge amount of information to the North, without ever being traced. For a week, however, the secret services had been breathing down her neck and seemed to have discovered one of her many secret hideouts.

“I've always said that. Kill and let kill, what’s wrong with that? We are the God who decides what is right and wrong” Winter snorted, whose code name described her perfectly. “You’re crazy. We should only kill when it’s strictly necessary. What’s so nice about knowing you’ve taken someone’s life?” even though you knew no one was around, you persisted in whispering. “That you stole his life and his last words. He will die seeing you and no one else"

You and Winter thought differently about everything – it was always a debate. Nothing ever coincided when it came to you. Life, death, and desire were concepts that took two totally different paths in your subjective vision.

“Let’s stop for today, this little princess of the North won’t be captured so easily” “Well, what are you going to do?” A spark lit up in the eyes of the young girl with whom you share this difficult job. Winter took the gun and threw it as far as she could; it ended up near the abandoned house that you were observing from behind the trees. You turned to her, speechless; Winter walked past you with a satisfied smirk and headed toward the house

“Are you dumb?” “Why?” “First you complain about my inability to understand how important it is to do everything by the rules and now, not caring, you are perched on a criminal’s bed.” You yawned loudly and invited her to sit next to you.

Winter, despite appearances, sometimes seemed to let down that insurmountable barrier. The eyes, almost always empty and dull, sometimes revealed an unusual light that would have made even the darkest place shine. It wasn’t the first time you found yourself staring at her: her blonde hair, now gathered in a high bun, and the heavy black makeup made her seem more attractive - and cold - than usual.

“Are you kidding, right?” “Can't stand me at all?” your cheeks reddened slightly. “It’s counterproductive to get attached to someone you work with, Panther. Learn some basic rules” “So if we didn’t work together, would you be able to get attached?” Holding Winter’s gaze was an impossible mission; the mission you were trying to execute was child's play in comparison. You turned away unable to continue looking at those two puddles.

An unexpected thud made you turn towards the door, both with loaded guns and two lives to protect. You both exchanged a knowing look, before hearing another thud and coming back to attention. Winter didn’t fail to make a sarcastic comment before thanking God for sending you to die or kill.

“Don’t shoot” The first thing they taught you when you were still spending your days training was to not trust anyone. Sure, you wouldn’t shoot until you were shot, but you couldn’t say the same about your partner. You turned to look at her and noticed that she didn’t have any killer instinct. “Don't shoot for any reason, Y/n”

It was the first time she called you by your name. In astonishment, the gun slipped from your hands which had turned to butter. The next second Winter was pointing the gun at you.

“What are you doing?” “I thought you would end up getting more upset when this time came. I was wrong, maybe you are more qualified than I expected” “Winter” your angry gaze for the first time was able to hold the icy one of your colleague. “Everything will be fine, just do what I say”

These were the last words you heard, then something in your mouth prevented you from rebelling, and finally, darkness.

In a hotel room with furniture of questionable taste and an air that smelled of rottenness, you opened your eyes after a few hours. Your hands and feet were tied together, your mouth was dry and your hunger was starting to eat you from the inside. The first sensation when you woke up you also hoped would be the last. You didn't know where you were, you weren't completely aware of the dangers around you, and above all you were without a gun. Even though the last drastic moments you had lived with your perhaps no longer colleague were flashing through your mind, you had a hard time rationalizing everything. Was the woman who had accompanied you for the last five years trying to send you to the other world? And then, who was the little girl who had joined Winter? In the whirlwind of emotions and resentment that was building up in you, the door of the room slowly opened, contributing to creating more agitation in your nervous system.

“Hey sweetie, didn't you get scared while you were waiting all here alone?” You wanted to scream, but you only then noticed that your mouth was covered with a dirty cloth that prevented you from making any sound. “I know, I know. Take it easy. First, let me introduce you to my assistant,” she came forward timidly, in front of the bed where you had been placed, the girl who had stunned you, “She’s Choi Ye-won. Or at least, it’s Choi Ye-won on the passport that brought her here.”

Your head hurts. It felt like someone had landed countless blows on your head - maybe that's what happened. All the words that came out of Winter’s mouth came to you distorted. You wanted to answer her, but everything you thought couldn’t take shape.

“Y/n” Just saying your name for the second time, you started to thrash furiously on the bed, so much so that you scared the little girl who hid behind Winter. “Calm down, let me at least get this stuff off your face…” the blond-haired girl approached with huge strides as if to make you understand that it wouldn't be a problem for her to handle you and your outbursts.

As soon as Winter pulled the fabric out of your mouth, you instinctively grabbed her right arm and bit it so hard it made her in agony.

You tried to take your first steps after the impetuous action you had done, but you immediately realized that your legs could not move. Immediately after, cold as death, a gun was pointed at your temple.

“Let's calm down so no one gets hurt, what do you say?” “I won't play your game much longer, Winter.” “You'll be the one to say the famous last words, Y/n.”

Winter was in front of you, sitting on a wicker chair that screamed to the world that it had been clandestinely manufactured. The little girl, now sitting on the bed where you had been, was looking at you with a grim look.

“Ask me what you want.” Winter had no intention of letting you breathe: every word was accompanied by a lethal look and a gun pointed at you. Her ways were familiar to you but feeling the effect on your skin was something else entirely. “Who are you?” Winter looked at the little girl on the bed and then rested it on you. “Are you already ready to die?” “Answer me so I can die without regrets.”

Winter stood up from the chair and came closer, then sat on your lap and put her arms around your neck. This time the gun went to place behind your head. “What’s going through your head is probably right, Y/n” “Stop calling me that. I’m still in a work context” A disturbing giggle left the blonde’s lips. “I always told you: perfection will kill you”

This time Winter ran a finger over your lower lip and then over your upper lip. He gingerly approached your lips, kissed you, and then bit you so hard it made you bleed. The drop of blood hit your neck until it reached the hollow of your breast. Winter looked you in the eyes before smiling and lowering her head slightly; she slowly licked the trickle of blood. She met your eyes once more and licked her lips before speaking.

“I’m Choi Ye-won” A simple answer was enough to send you into a state of confusion. All the certainties, everything you had shared in the last five years flashed before your eyes: when was the truth falsehood and falsehood truth? “Prove it to me” Winter snorted loudly. “That’s my younger sister, she was brought to South Korea a few months ago and now everyone is convinced that she’s Choi Ye-won. They thought they had found the right person,” another stupid, irritating laugh came out of her mouth “But the right person is me and I’ve always been here. Next to you, next to the secret services, and close – maybe too close for your tastes – to South Korea”

“Why?” “Explain yourself better, Y/n” “What does all this mean?” Winter dropped the gun and, with her free hands, began to stroke your hair. “Unfortunately in all of South Korea, the agents chosen to carry out this mission were the two of us. The prey and the hunter. You understand that one of us had to disappear, one way or another”

The cold coming in from the large window of the room had numbed your body. You were unable to move. “So you're going to kill me?” “I'm not going to let you live”

Still sitting on your lap, Winter moved the gun from behind your head to your heart with a coldness that seemed forced even for her. “I know very well that after telling you everything you won’t let me escape to my country with my sister. I can’t stay here anymore. Winter only exists on South Korean soil and in your heart” “Winter is you” “No, I am Yewon. You're Y/n. I don't need to know anything else to make my own decisions."

A staring contest as painful as yours had never been seen, and yet you should have been two of the most feared women in Korea. Cold hands, throbbing hearts, and blood were all that remained of you. This time it was you who approached the blonde to kiss her and, Winter, without being told twice, returned a kiss that was anything but sweet: blood and saliva mixed, your wound continued to bleed and Winter couldn't help but be violent even in a moment that should have meant something else entirely.

“When?” “When I’m ready” “And when will you be ready?” Winter stood up from your lap and immediately the cold air hit you mercilessly. “I have to save my sister. I’m sorry, in another life maybe it would have gone differently” “It’s not your fault. After all, you always told me that it’s counterproductive to make friends at work” Winter laughed loudly at the word “friends” and then left the room with her sister. They both wished you goodnight. That day you abandoned the idea of sleeping and kept your eyes open for fear that someone would kill you without giving you the chance to see her one last time.

The next morning Winter seemed intent on carrying out the final act. She was gripping the gun with all her strength and, as she paid the bill, her hand was shaking. The two sisters had planned to leave that day. They had taken a suitcase and filled it with any junk that might pass them off as respectable people. Watching them get ready so hastily confirmed to you that the two were desperate and couldn’t wait to leave and get protection. Are you willing to leave everything behind, Winter?

You walked side by side. Winter held the fully loaded gun behind your back. The two had revealed to you that a North Korean collaborator would come to pick them up and take them safe and sound, after a nice trip around the Sea of Japan, back to their homeland.

“How old is your sister?” you asked, bored by the situation you found yourself in. “Sixteen” “Um. It must be fun for you to put a minor in danger.” “I have never killed or let people get killed who had nothing to do with the shady dealings their guardians were involved in.” “Your work ethic is sometimes worse than mine.” “Um?” Winter turned to look at you, shocked to hear such a serene tone.

You stopped, noticing how the boat that was waiting for the two young girls was a wreck in all its parts. “I see that North Korea treats you well” “There is no reason to expect more than salvation”

In Winter’s eyes, you see a new form of anger, rejection, and renunciation. The blonde touched the trigger of the gun and pointed it at you. “Y/n, I know it may seem terrible as an ending, but at least I will be the one to kill you. Your companion, your beloved and, soon, the incarnation of death” “Uhm” “Your last words?”

Looking into Winter’s eyes was a great way to distract her, and the five years you had spent together had proven that. You smiled cheekily, not losing eye contact with the blonde. “Maybe you really do have a heart too”

A second later a scream broke the unhealthy atmosphere between you and your colleague. Winter quickly turned in fury towards the scream uttered by her sister, who now found herself in the arms of the man who was supposed to take them to North Korea. “Leave my sister, you fucking idiot!” Oh, how satisfying it was to see a cold and calculating woman lose all her composure in an instant.

The man had a gun pointed at his younger sister’s temple. “Winter” In response, the girl turned violently towards you, pointing the gun straight at your forehead. This time it was you who had an annoying smirk on your face.

“That man works for the Secret Service, he’s a colleague of ours. There’s an entire squadron nearby ready to intervene at the first gunshot” Winter was shaking. “I'm about to offer you an advantageous deal” “Speak, you ugly bitch” “Leave the gun” "Never"

Winter had perhaps forgotten that in martial arts you had been at the top of your class for years. With a quick gesture, you threw the blonde’s gun as far away as possible. Now it was you who had the gun pointed at the young North Korean girl's forehead. Winter started laughing. “When did you realize that?” “When we were in that shitty little house and you came out with sentences I’d never heard before. Killing is your life, saying you didn’t want to do it was a pretty strong warning signal, don’t you think?”

“What do you want, Y/n?” “Your life.” Winter didn’t look scared at all. “And what do I gain from it?” “Your sister will live. I will personally send her back to Korea and cover up any clues or traces that could lead her back to you.” “Was I her doom?” “You can be her salvation.”

Winter turned to her sister and told her to cover her eyes and ears. “I trust you, Y/n.” “Me too. I know I wouldn’t screw up. Work is work and…” “Death is death. Don’t make it long and kill me.”

You pulled the trigger. You looked into Winter’s eyes one last time. The blonde seemed to feel the same. She was shaking, but nothing could stop you from completing the mission. “Thank you for everything, Winter. We’ll complete the mission together this time too” “Spare me this bullshit”

A gust of wind ruffled both of their hair, Winter’s sister let out another scream and started to cry. Tears were streaming down her face.

“Winter, your last words?” The girl smiled like you’d never seen her do. She chained her black pools in your eyes and whispered the next words. “Y/n, I loved y-”

You didn’t let her finish. One blow and the girl’s body was lying helpless on the ground. The pool of blood that formed beneath her seemed to be a representation of the blood she had taken from everyone she had killed over the past few years. She had been a liar, a murderer, the top of her class, and also the love of your life. You turned and signaled to your colleague to leave in the boat, which silently went away along with the tears of a younger sister left alone.

In the months that followed, the secret service agency named you and Winter the best agents they had ever had. Your names were now both imprinted on the golden walls of the department waiting room. No one ever knew that Winter was Choi Ye-Won; everyone cried her name believing that she had been killed by the North Korean whose body and traces you had then eliminated. Winter's sister remained safe in North Korea.

In your memories Winter was never Choi Ye-Won, but always and only Winter. Like the cold earth that now enveloped her body. In the future you asked your colleagues, when your time came, to bury you next to your beloved, yet hated, colleague. Choi Ye-Won was born and died as Winter in your heart.

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