#dame will also be there eventually
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SIX SENTENCE SUNDAY
Except it’s not really six sentences :) anyways here’s yet another new fic I’m working on
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“Do you need me to kill that girl for you, babe?” The bartender nodded towards Marina, where Minty had been trying and failing not to stare.
Minty stifled a smile as she pulled the glass closer. “Tempting offer.” Taking a swig, she let the burn in her throat distract her. “Unfortunately I’ve been instructed not to cause a scene.”
The bartender leaned forward, elbows on the bar, staring at Marina for a moment before looking back at Minty. “She totally isn’t hot enough for you to be depressed at the bar like a middle aged man over her,” she announced finally, eyes glinting as she met Minty’s gaze.
Minty nearly choked on her drink, a surprised laugh bubbling out. “I may hate her, but I’m not blind.”
“Yeah, that was a clever lie. She’s a smokeshow.” She stood up properly. “But so are you, so really, it evens out.”
#making the bartender ver was a terrible idea bc these bitches won’t stop flirting#like girl stop you’re supposed to be hate fucking your ex girlfriend Marina!!#anyways I’m having so much fun writing drph ships ;)#:)#they really mean everything to me#mintyrina#mintysex#drag race#rpdr#RuPaul’s drag race#drag race Philippines#drph#drph1#drag race Philippines 1#marina summers#minty fresh#Versex#dame will also be there eventually#homewrecker dame my beloved <3#my writing#sss#six sentence Sunday#fanfic#fanfiction#drag race fanfic#drag race fanfiction
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I would also like to see some miphlink, if that's okay!
I was really struggling with what to draw, and then I remembered your ask from ages ago (dang ADHD brain...) anyway, sorry its such a late answer, but Miphlink inspired by Dicksee's La Belle Dame
#thank you so so much for the ask stars!! I had completely forgotten about it (I'm so so sorry!!) and it saved me from an artist-not-arting#you know the sort of pent up unpleasant feeling you get when you need to do something creative but its not happening and then its sad?#yeah I didn't get that because your ask suddenly popped into my head! so very happy about that :) thank you!#link is a horse girl and we need more of it in life#also to try and get the flowy fabric look that Dicksee's La Belle Dame has without putting Link in a dress I decided to modify Mipha's fins#and then added some of that gorgeous salmon colour from the original piece#also the reason the reason the champions tunic etc have that grey tinge to it is because the knight was wearing armour in the original piec#with a beautiful duckegg blue grey colour and I thought including that might be fun too!#anyway#the couple that is perfect for one another and should always be together for all time: Mipha and Link#mipha#link#botw#creativesplat draws#breath of the wild#miphlink#lipha#I really need to catch up on the miphlink tag... its so exciting to have so much wonderful art and writing to look through but I am a rathe#busy/ adhd forgetful bean so whenever I get round to reading or looking at art... there will be a long reblog/ queue of miphlink stuff!#eventually#at some point#because fashionably late (coughjustlatecough) is my middle name!#enough rambling sorry#I love drawing miphlink its like a comfort drawing thing#like her head is so squidgy and so easy to doodle so if ever my brain is bored or I want to draw and need happy hormones but can't find the#mipha is the answer because the squishy head is just sooooo good#the designers of mipha were amazing and I love them#epona#tloz#zelda
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@cutest-silly-nb
#ask and ye shall receive :]#Midnight Crew#homestuck intermission#next on the to do list is memeboards for all of them#and eventually Death PS and also Nervous Broad and Hysterical Dame too!#but take these for now i am tired afhgds#♠️♥️♦️♣️Five Of A Kind#homestuck#hell i might open requests for these#i like making them :]#although i would probably make like a separate blog for that
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So how similar the ROs and Jackie are compared to the gods personality wise?
So first I'll go ahead and let you know: The myths aren't going to be retold really, they're still canon and unwatered down. So the gods were still pretty awful. However, that being said what originally happened and what the myths say now are two different things. Humans change things when retelling them, be it by accident or on purpose. It's how you get a lot of inconsistencies. So if in one myth a god did something really out there and nobody knows why? It's probably humans fucking the story up. But if a god is consistently doing something then it's more or less canon. I don't want to point to any one myth and say "this is not canon/is canon" unless I have to for the narrative. So honestly what their "original" personality would have been is kind of up to you. I'll give more direct comparisons below.
Jackie - Nothing like original Zeus at all anymore. She's far more paranoid now and with good reason. I don't want to say more though, not yet. Riley - A lot quieter but still a trickster god at heart. Probably the most like their original god. Franco - A lot like the original Apollo. But with less sun stuff (will be explained later). The main difference is that he probably cares less about collateral damage than the original one did. (which is saying a bit.) Verne - Can't really say because the myths don't have a lot about Nemesis in a way that can hammer out exactly what she was like personality wise, not like Zeus or Apollo. It's safe to say that Verne's personality is built more around single lives than their collective. Since Verne dies the least of the gods. Mitch - Easily nothing like the original Dionysus. He doesn't party, abhors drinking, hates crowds, and really just wants to be left alone. Dame - Also nothing like Aphrodite. Though they still love romance and trying to get people to fall in love they don't interfere nearly as often. They're not vain about their appearance or anything but do get jealous easily. Rebel - The most different I'd say. Not a serene virgin hunter in the least anymore. She kills, she fucks, she's loud and brash. You didn't ask but Johnny's in the same boat as Verne. Nike's myths don't give a lot about personality as far as I remember but its been a while. For Johnny he's probably the most annoyed at being a god.
#Jackie#Riley#Franco#Verne#Mitch#Dame#Rebel#Johnny#RO asks#Thanks for the ask!#God Syndicate#I only added Johnny because he was the only one in the cast that was a god that was left out.#which I think I'll do for any asks about the ROs + Jackie or vice versa#Also there are other gods in Elysium and just the world in general#they'll get brought up eventually#when they show up i'll throw Johnny in with them probably
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From Legendlark's Dames and Dragons campaign: Arc 3 - The Gray Manacle (Part 10)
[Below is from the Video Description]
I planned on trying to make this into an animatic, but the time got away from me as it usually does! Please take this old art while I work on said animatic at a more leisurely pace, lol
So, this Moment. When I first started listening to Dames, I managed to catch up in the middle of this arc. The end surprised me, not just from a PC leaving, but also because I Thought that there'd be More Parts before the arc ended! Honestly, I grieved a little bit. Laika is my favorite character, and I wanted more time to see her character develop.
Her send off was nothing short of Beautifully Bittersweet. From the music, to Kat's monologue, to Sophia's delivery as Laika… It's a scene that will always make me tear up.
And from there, the podcast kept getting better and better. Errol came on as Slake and changed the Guardians' dynamic in a new and wonderful way. The story evolved and deepened and swept me up even further down into its depths. And I… I guess I evolved with it?
Legendlark is a Queer Podcast through and through. And when I first started listening, I Knew I was Queer, but my understanding of myself was still developing. Listening to the Larks really helped me along that journey. It was such a fun coincidence when Juniper came out around the same time I realized I was nonbinary!!
Since then, I've been DMing for my own D&D group, participated in the Roll to Fall in Love Zine, and relistened to the podcast multiple times because the magic of it never seems to fade. Even when this campaign concludes, it will always have a special place in my heart.
You could even say, it'll be… ♥️Dearly Beloved♥️
#legendlark#dames and dragons#my vid#my art#(old art technically but still mine)#cheeky KH reference because it is a Good Percentage of why I love this podcast#ohhh Laika my child I will write more fanfic for you just you wait#and I'll continue the Dames Doodles that'll happen again eventually also
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Figured Andrealphus is a sexually repressed closeted gay man, trying to act straight by mentioning his sister’s attractiveness almost everytime he speaks.
Okay so here’s when everything what I’m about to say from now on becomes far fetched. It might not even happen.
But I wonder, will Andre eventually get a gay awakening, a darker version of Stolas’ awakening? Andre is very entitled and full of himself. Giving his personality and how sexually repressed he actually is, I have no doubt that he will handle his attraction to another person very poorly.
Take this with a grain of salt, but apparently Viv said we’ll get a “hellfire” type of song in the future. She also apparently said that Andre would continue to play a bigger role in s3, so it could suggest that the song could be sung by him.
I’ve seen other fans talk about this. But If the “hellfire” type of song is true and it is indeed sung by Andre. What if Andre develops some twisted feelings for Blitz? You know, Esmeralda style? I feel it’s very in character for Andre to act like Frollo in that regard.
Even though it desturbing and terrifying, it would really be interesting storywise to see Andre losing his mind for a being he should find repulsive and unworthy of his attention, just like Frollo with Esmeralda. It’s like the worst thing that could happen to him. We know how Andre view imps.
If you haven’t listened yet to “Hellfire” from the hunchback of Notre Dame, I highly recommend it. It’s sung by Frollo and it’s about his lust and obsession with Esmeralda. It really is such a good villain song.
Edit: Okay so I’ve noticed some people discussing that it could very well be Stolas instead of Blitz. I can really see this being true, haha. I love the way you all are thinking.
#helluva boss#vivziepop#vivzieverse#helluva boss blitzo#helluva blitzo#helluva boss blitz#helluva boss spoilers#andrealphus#helluva boss andrealphus#helluva boss analysis#helluva boss theory#hb blitzø#hb blitzo#vivienne medrano#hb spoilers#hb mastermind#helluva boss mastermind#mastermind#blitzø#helluva blitz#blitzo#hellaverse#mastermind spoilers#helluva boss s2#helluva boss season two#helluva boss season 2
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I feel sorry for Orin
repurposed from an old Reddit post of mine
Edit: Wrote an epilogue fic where my Durge, Sofija, seeks redemption for her sister with the Gods
Raised from birth in the Bhaal cult and has never known ANYTHING else. Literally the result of incest between her mom and Sarevok (her father AND grandfather) - and for her entire life is actively manipulated and groomed to worship her "Grandfather" second only to Bhaal (leaving a disgusting implication that Sarevok might eventually try again). Literally every single day of her life spent in a murder cult, never knowing anything else.
Her mother is actively manipulated when Orin is seven to try to kill her daughter, only for Orin to reflexively kill her first, at which point Orin was briefly possessed by Bhaal himself (per some Sarevok dialogue). AT AGE SEVEN. And even from a young age, Orin's true gift is her artistry, a talent that outside the Bhaal cult probably could have been nurtured into something phenominal, but inside the cult is twisted into a sinisterness in the kill that, when she's out of earshot is decried as wasteful.
She eventually rises through the ranks (never have had any choice), having never felt a meaningful moment of compassion or kindness and, desperate to be cared about, sees the power and fear and respect her bloodkin (The Dark Urge) has gained and uses their hubris to take them out.
Ironically, in the timeline where Durge lives, they get a gift Orin couldn't even dream of - a 2nd chance. With their brain scrambled and the tadpole present but being interfered with, the Dark Urge got a chance to be someone new. (Whether they accept or reject that 2nd chance, they at least got a choice this time).
What did Orin get for her troubles? Her (grand)father openly coveted to either take her out, or worse, take her out - when the time was right, her own allies both detested her (Gortash openly revels at the idea of working with the Dark Urge again)
and most brutally, if you manage to confront her with the truth, any of it? About Sarevok, about her mother, etc? She immediately believes you. And for one (1) moment, maybe there's hope for her.
Hope that Bhaal immediately rips away; an Orin confronted with the truth and showing even the slightest hesitation is immediately forcibly transformed into the Slayer by Bhaal himself, with a strong implication that the core of the old Orin is gone forever win, lose, or draw. "No more doubts, no more fears, no more Orin. Become murder.". Seeing what Bhaal's reaction was the moment Orin had one (1) instant of hesitation also confirms that she'd likely have never had the chance to choose differently, either Bhaal would always step in or else she'd eventually meet her end.
Imagine the AU where Orin takes her CLEAR flair and artistic talent to become a truly great artist. Where she gets the same second chance that Durge got - If she'd been able to use her talent for impersonation and desire to great to do something powerful instead of being forced by her family from childhood into the family business of murder.
She literally never had a chance. Even Bane and Myrkul and their respective cults were never so unfathomably cruel, and she never knew anything else.
At least for my own first game, though, my Durge recognized that without her "sister," she'd have never gotten the chance to save the world, never met Shadowheart, never stopped a century worth of Ketheric's torture on Dame Aylin, never set in motion the liberation of the Githyanki...In the right world states, Orin unwittingly saved the world, but it's a world she'll never get to see or know, and probably never could have.
That's tragic as hell.
#baldur's gate 3#orin the red#orin#orin bg3#bg3 orin#dark urge#the dark urge#durge#durge bg3#bhaal#bhaalspawn#sarevok#bg3#baldurs gate 3#canon#bg3 durge#orin as gortash
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*cracks knuckles* here I am again. this time with Micah as my victim
so at first,
you definitely should add some more story to him. so far, if I'm being honest, he feels a bit too plain to me. but oh boy, what a potential I see here!
alright lets begin
omg look at him! such a hypocrite! how smart it is, to put all blame on MC while being just as (actually even more) sinful. and he sure hides well; it's your fault, isn't it? oh you and your sinful mind.
buut despite him not really being my cup of tea, I still do like a good old concept of ugly insides, hidden behind a beautiful shell (if that's the vibe you were going for).
Micah seems so pure, so holy, almost like an angel (you played smart by adding a lot of white in his design) – but behind that pristine facade? he's ugly. and that shell eventually starts to crack, because no matter how pure he may seem, Micah is just as human as we are, and definitely not a good one. and what are we, if not a bunch of cruel, egotistical animals? and deep inside he's exactly that, sickeningly human. with that in mind the very first comic you did abt him is actually pretty hilarious to me. your desires? what about his desires, which are strong enough to ruin your whole life?
I kinda feel like he's also a little pathetic in his own way; if he can't make you fall for him, he will break you. isn't it like a very cowardly move? he wants you badly enough to use whatever method it may require to have you, but will never admit it.
but let's talk about that strange desire to destroy MC's purity. why? to make you just as dirty as he is? cute, but doesn't seem like a full explanation to me. he's a priest, right? and even despite those dark insides of his, I feel like Micah still kept at least some of the priest mindset. I mean, they're raised and taught with a very strict discipline. so I feel like deep down, he feels bad (not ashamed, but in a "how dare they" way) for his attraction to you, and punishes you for that attraction. it's not your fault, of course, but who cares? you managed to destroy his perfect, clean facade, which he was methodically building for his whole life with simply your existence. isn't that unfair? so now you must fall into the depths of hell with him.
I like how we can't justify him. Micah is perfectly aware of what he is doing. and of twisted nature of his feelings too, I think, yet still chooses to indulge in his desires, even if it hurts you, the person he was supposed to love and cherish. he makes me feel an absolute, poetic rage, and I love a character I can hate. (don't get me wrong, it meant to be a praise)
and I absolutely adore his design. also if I was on point with the idea you meant for him, that is wonderful too. if a character makes me feel something, I like that character. but girl, you really should add more details about him. because everything I've written here is, basically, just my own brainstorming and bare theories. Micah needs to have more meat on him for a full character analysis >_>
but anyway, I actually have a question.
what if MC wasn't in any way pure? what if they're a complete opposite of that word? count it on my love for hunchback of notre dame
unlike the nun MC, I suggest a MC who fully embraces their sins. like an evil succubus, they enjoy the joys of being tainted. they know what influence they have on their dear Father Micah, and isn't ashamed of that. I feel like that would make a pretty interesting story
(cough cough draw him blushing and moaning and my life is yours darling)
Another absolutely incredible ask I'll have a field day answering.
I do agree with him being a bit under developed at the moment. Micah was a bit unfortunate as in he was never meant to be an actual character. He was just a momentary creation who existed for me to study color theory. A beautiful man of flowers who didn't have an identity.
Then he joined the cast when I was busy with working on commissions and the 5k celebration comic so I didn't have the time to draw his introduction comic with the things I had planned for him, though I've been trying my best to explore him a bit more thru asks like this one. The fact that I don't want to spoil the stuff I'll draw in his comic is also holding me back a little.
I think Micah is evil, but not completely bad. A man who was born twisted, who was raised into goodness, and even with all the love he received never truly got rid of his inner darkness, but just once, just for one moment, I think he had good in his heart. And that is when he first saw you.
With all his twistedness, all his evilness, all his darkness, I think that love he felt for you was truly pure. Because in his eyes you appeared truly beautiful, like a pure lily.
But Micah isn't a pure man, neither does he want to be. So he prefers to pull you down to his level, so that you two can be sinful together. A truly impure way of feeling that pure and innocent love.
I have gotten asks about him with a more rowdy darling, one who isn't a nun or one who is more sinful. I've been really brainstorming about it but I don't think it would work. Not because I personally can't force the story into being like that but because I think it was just not meant to be like that.
You see I do come up with the characters, but I don't control their actions. If the character is unwilling I can't shape the story to my will. Because that story is their life and they control it. The best I can do is to try to fill the gaps I can.
I might prefer submissive yanderes, I might want Micah to have a more sinful darling instead but it wouldn't be Micah's story anymore. That's one of the reasons why he's so different from the rest of the boys. I'm not super into very dominant guys, I could probably count the ones I have with one hand, it wasn't my intention for Micah to be the way he is, but I don't think he could've been any other way.
Micah was just meant to be manipulative, a gaslighter, a dirty man who'll pull anything to push you below him.
I guess me looking at my stories from an actual novel or manga perspective also contributes to this. Father Micah exists to shine with a darling who he can soil.
Now the darling can maybe go against him in the future, she might rebel or give in to his sinful ways, but that's a different story.
#asks#micah#yandere priest#yandere priest x reader#fanart#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x y/n#male yandere#yandere
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Hi! I'm almost certain you've answered asks regarding Drow being a companion love interest before, but I'm not sure if my question was specifically discussed. If so, I apologize!
Say I wanted the smelly, gore lusting man (God the things I'd do), what would the player find themselves needing to do to gain that relationship with him?
HMM good question, lets see!
Generally speaking, to gain approval you would have to:
Show ruthlessness during dialogue and interactions (succeed intimidation checks or jump straight into combat)
Be kind towards animals, and honest/patient with children (He will be neutral if you just coddle them)
Oppose the absolute and antagonize mindflayers, gith, and drow.
Be nice to Shadowheart.
Pick a lot of the joke/playfully mean dialogue options.
Be a little hard-to-get in romance interactions until act 3.
Responding to his advances with more mellow, romantic dialogue will earn you more points than overt sexuality (In some cases, the latter may even get you disapproval).
Make him laugh.
To trigger his romance, you have to have good approval and sleep with him once. Following that, pressuring him to sleep with you again or shaming him for not putting your life in danger by trying will earn you disapproval, and an eventual break-up if you continue to insist. He enjoys being wooed, but not chased, and dislikes when you misunderstand his visceral attempts to emotionally reach out as sexual propositions; he will play along either way, but it will put him on a Bhaalist path.
Some quest choices that will get you on his good side:
ACT 1 -
He's indifferent if Arabella dies, but you gain approval if you save her.
Let him take on the Loviatar Priest when he requests it.
Don't get the Absolute's mark from Priestess gut.
Save Mayrina, but then either break or keep the wand.
Let Astarion kill Gandrel.
Help Karlach.
Either let Shadowheart kill Lae'zel, or stop the fight.
Don't kill the owlbear mother or cub.
Send Barcus flying (He doubles over laughing)
Kill Minthara.
Side with the mercenaries at Grymforge.
Kill the gith student refusing to fight.
Refuse to give the inquisitor the artefact.
ACT 2 -
Help Arabella find her parents.
Don't release the pixie from the moonlantern.
Help Mol cheat against Raphael.
Let him massacre the goblins at Moonrise Towers.
Get the Thorm bosses AND yurgir to kill themselves instead of fighting any of them (again: You are rewarded with him laughing his ass off about it)
Don't comply with Araj.
If you save Zevlor at the mindflayer colony, shame him for giving into the Absolute's call.
Antagonize the emperor after his reveal and refuse the astral tadpole.
ACT 3 -
Help Yenna with either gold or food, but don't invite her to your camp.
Kill Arfur once you find out about the explosive toys.
Forge an alliance with Gortash.
Win the Laff riot contest.
Don't surrender Dame Aylin to Lorroakan.
Don't sign the contract, but agree to get the Orphic hammer through other means later. (Anything to not rely on the Emperor anymore)
If she hasn't become a Dark Justiciar, don't surrender Shadowheart to Viconia (He will fight the party unless you leave him at camp and succeed a deception check later). He doesn't care what you do if she's a DJ.
Vanra's quest can get you either approval or disapproval at different points. He approves of you agreeing to help her, then also approves of you killing her for the money, but he disapproves of you letting the child die or of siding with Ethel.
Agree to the Avenge The Drowned quest (He just thinks they're hot)
Don't let Astarion Ascend, or kill him if he does.
Kill Sarevok.
Let him take on Orin by himself.
Don't turn into a mindflayer (he will break up with you later), nor let Karlach do it.
If he's become a chosen of Bhaal, let him control the Absolute.
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The Monster That Lurked
Alastor x GN!Reader
A/N:Hey hey! I'm in a really angsty mood and decided to write a full fledged fic about my own work of ‘Monster In The Woods’!!! YAY!!! ALSO A FRIENDS TO LOVERS DEAL- SUE ME. Also you can picture Human Alastor or Alastor anyway you want cause I don’t really describe him much except for what he is wearing and I picture Alastor a certain way in my head. This got long I apologize.
TW: Set in the 1920-30’s, Human Alastor and his murders. Pre-established relationships, cheating, Alastor “stealing” you away from your husband.Alastor and Reader have known each other for a long time already. Reader is also some sort of fucked up, in like the murder way. Talks about cheating, fighting, Gore, Christianity and religion in general. MURDER VERY MUCH MURDER
Word Count: 7k
1927, the days filled with laughter and partying whilst listening to jazz standing with your husband..well you were waiting outside a sleazy bar for your husband, the same drunkard that your father had married you off to. He wasn’t your first choice neither was he your last choice. You would’ve been fine not marrying anybody and just living your life hidden from prying eyes, you would rather be somewhere in the Louisiana bayou with Alastor. Just sitting and listening to him ramble on about a new show he was talking about or how some poor lad got on his bad side.
But yet you were standing on the sidewalk in front of a sleazy bar with even sleazier patrons as you stared at your husband through one of the windows as he hit on the same poor dame that served him. He cheated all the time and yet you never cared, was it because you never truly loved him or was it the fact you’d rather picture his own death while he begged god for his sins. You couldn’t tell anymore and a part of you didn’t want to know anymore. The other part of you wanted to delve deeper into your own thoughts, wanted to open the door that was locked and barricaded for your own good. You wanted to understand what it felt like to rip flesh from bone and see how long it would take for him to lose consciousness from the blood loss.
A loud honk from a passing car made you jump out of your skin and look around, feeling the small box in your pocket, it was supposed to be for your husband but he didn’t deserve it, he would’ve just sold it eagerly for some kind of money to waste his life away. That’s fine you knew a man who would appreciate it more than him anyway. The same man whose voice was happily broadcasted on every radio for miles around, you could practically hear his smile through the radio static and fuzz. Your heartbeat a little faster than it should’ve just thinking about him, he was your friend and that was it. Friends don’t have crushes on friends. This was just a way to spoil him for being a good friend of yours. Right?
You couldn’t bother him right now, you knew better so you did what you always did. Went back home and made yourself busy until he eventually made his way over to your house. He was always quick enough to get to your house before your drunken husband did but stayed around long enough (i.e in the early hours of the morning) so you wouldn’t have to deal with anything unnecessary and you eventually went to bed. Then he would’ve disappeared for a few days but he came back around. You didn’t question him or his ways, you knew better. A part of you did want to question his motives but you held your tongue like you always did.
Your husband wasn’t a necessarily violent man..just dumb and constantly drinking, said some nasty words too. If it wasn’t for you, Alastor would’ve probably done him in by now. Especially when he was talking bad about his Mother, you saw the way Alastor stared at your husband. The same angry look you gave him when he had gotten on your last nerve. But before Alastor could get to him, some other patron did. Knocked your husband’s nose sideways and a tooth completely out. Bastard deserved it completely and till this day you don’t visit that place. You needed a fucking drink thinking about your husband but the bastard drunk your house completely dry.
A knock on your front door snapped you out of your thoughts and as you turned towards your front door, the man of the hour had walked through your door. A huge grin plastered on his face, one hand holding a bottle of whiskey and in the other today's paper. “Ah ha! There you are, My Dear!” He called out his suit absolutely spotless. A smile formed on your lips as you grabbed two glasses from the cupboard, waving him towards one of the only rooms your husband doesn’t enter. “You had me worrying there for a moment,” He said tilting his head back towards you as he led you to the parlor room, “Maybe that husband of yours was back from wherever he was lurking.” He finished his smile falling into a snarl, Alastor was also not a huge fan of your husband from the start. You never asked why as you both didn’t want to think of him during your little time together.
“Please..you know better than I do that he’s hitting up on a poor dame at the bar.” You replied, sitting the glasses down on the table causing him to make a noise in acknowledgement, “At this point, Alastor..I’m believing you're a mind reader with how you just appear with whiskey in hand at my front door.” At that? He let out a loud belly laugh leaning in closer to you allowing his gaze to soften as he stared at your features before he leaned away opening the bottle of whiskey. This was going to be a long night for the both of you and you had forgotten all about the gift.
~~~
A couple weeks had passed since you last saw Alastor in person but you didn’t fret, he had called the next day to tell you he had made it back home safely. Something he had picked up ever since you had asked him to stay the night so long ago, you were-..are still scared of your own thoughts. The ones that dare creep out, the ones who tell you to crack open your husband’s chest and rip out his still beating heart. The ones who you don’t dare tell a soul and you sure as hell won’t tell Alastor, he’d think you're insane. But you knew..you were slowly losing yourself and everyday it was one step closer to killing your husband.
Walking into the kitchen and rolling your eyes seeing your husband looking like hell, “Hungover John?” You hissed out as you moved past him a grunt falling from his lips in reply, “Shut the fuck up..” He hissed out speech still slurred as half assed venom dripped from his tongue. “I wasn’t the one up at 1 in the morning drinking with that no good radio host.” You froze your hand twitching towards the knife on the counter but stopped yourself, “I wasn’t the one who was at the bar drinking his sorrows away whilst trying to bed another dame for the twentieth time this week.” You hissed back, sending a glare towards him.
John stood up fully and walked towards you getting into your face, hand raising to no doubt strike you. But nothing came as someone cleared their voice, an icy cold tone to it. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Friend.” Alastor..fuck you forgot about him and his way of just walking into your house. You had drunkenly given him a key one night, ‘Just in case’ you told him. You were glad that you did because as soon as he heard Alastor’s cold voice he immediately backed up and stormed off deeper into the house.
Alastor’s cold gaze had followed the poor idiotic man as he disappeared into the home before they snapped back onto you. “Are you alright?” He asked the venom and anger laced in his voice gone but you saw how his eyes still held his anger, like they did when that fool had talked bad about his Mother. You often had envy and wished that you could know a mother’s gentle hand guiding you towards a better life. But criminals only give birth to criminals, your mother had left the Earth so long ago you don’t even remember what she looked like anymore but sometimes when you look into a crowd you see a familiar figure and a part of you becomes elated before it crashes and burns into the ground.
“I’m fine, Alastor.” You replied softly as you glanced down the hallway where your husband stormed off. Alastor sat silent watching your face keep still but the sadness in your eyes was apparent, he knew you yearned for freedom and solace. He knew how you would rather be a thousand miles away from your “husband”- God he hated that word and man, if he could’ve he would’ve killed him a long time ago. Walking over he softly hummed, “Let me take you out on the town, Dear…a way to get your head cleared.” He whispered, reaching over and carefully placing his hand on your shoulder. He watched your eyes once almost so lifeless and dull flicker to life at the thought, “All day?” You asked, glancing at him, the warmness in your eyes returning, a small smile forming on your lips. Hook…line…and sinker, he’s got you right where he wants you, perfectly safe in his hands.
“Of course, Dear! Now go on, go get dressed!” he hummed his smile, returning as he guided you to go down to your own bedroom which was supposed to be the guest bedroom. You never explained why you had moved bedrooms but he didn’t need to guess or ask. It was abundantly clear to anyone who had stepped foot in your household, this “marriage” wasn’t full of love. It was only necessary and after the first year of it, you had grown cold. That man had taken away any semblance of your hope and happiness for a better life. Alastor hummed a tune that played from his radio broadcasts as he looked around your home, he’s seen the decor and fake photos that hung up on the wall a million times but yet it never gets old. Especially when he’s staring at the photo of you on your wedding day, the way the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “What are you still doing here?” A slurred voice asked, causing him to calmly look over. His smile grew wider at the sight of the boy in front of him. That wasn’t a man..far from it. “Good to see you at least a little sober, Jonathan.” He hummed, dodging the question thrown his way.
“Shut the fuck up, Alastor.” John threw back, moving closer as Alastor’s eyes darkened. Just a little closer..and then he’d be gone for good. “John!” You yelled out making the man flinch and Alastor’s heart raced, oh how he loved hearing that venom lace your tongue; it was always a delight to see how commanding you were when you wanted to be. When Alastor first met you, you were quiet yet happy and you hadn’t been married to this fool. Such a lovely little mouse minding your own business when you had accidentally bumped into him. He wouldn’t believe anyone if they said meeting you would change his life. You had spilled wine on his suit, yet you didn’t freak out when you saw his eyes flicker angrily. Only apologized and paid for his new suit with the money you had been saving up to leave for good, he wouldn’t find that out until a year later.
John looked over at you with anger but soon he once again stormed out of the house cursing you and Alastor. Alastor looked over at you with a gentle smile returning to his lips as he guided you to the front door. “Come now~ Let’s paint the town red, Dear” He called out laughing at his own little joke making you roll your eyes at his antics. Silly man.
~~~
Hours happily passed by and the day turned into night from swinging into tailors and from jazz clubs to socialite parties so you both could secretly judge people between hushed breaths, he eventually led you down to a park that was lit up with lampposts every so often before sitting down on a park bench under the moonlights soft glow. Your laughter had died down into a comfortable silence as you glanced over at Alastor. His leg crossed the other one, “I haven’t seen someone so eager to play the fool in one of those parties.” He laughed out, tapping his thumb on his knee, “Something on my face, Darling?” You jumped and looked away, “No no..sorry I..I’ve been lost in my own thoughts recently, Alastor.”
He looked over at you, you were unusually silent the whole night. “Can I tell you something?” You asked, watching as you finally looked over, oh he could never get used to those eyes of yours and that darling little smile was everything to him. “Of course, Darling.” He reached over and carefully plucked a stray leaf from your shoulder, his attention fully on you. You looked down, hands trembling..you had to tell him, you could tell him right? “Nevermind it, you’d think I’d gone insane.” You corrected and cleared your throat leaning back into the cooled bench. You felt uncomfortably hot despite the cold air, winter was right around the corner.
Using his hand to rub at his chin as he hummed your favorite tune he played on air, this piqued his curiosity much more than he’d like to admit. “I’d never think such a thing, my friend!” He replied throwing his hand up in the air as if to actually try and swat those thoughts away from your mind. “Tell me whenever you feel ready to do so, my Dear!~” He was always willing to listen to you even if it was about nothing, your voice was practically music to his ears. Closing his eyes as a cold breeze hit his face as he continued to hum along to fill the silent night, he suspected it was your..’husband’..the cause of all your misery. The way your honeyed voice was now constantly laced with venom and authority as if you had to fight to even allow your voice to be heard. Your silence had felt like an eternity for him but he knew it had only been a moment or two, he didn’t realize how addicted to your voice he had become.
“I..I’ve been having thoughts.” You started making him look over at you, his eyes narrowing in concern at your form, how small you had looked at the moment. He had leaned forward and took his jacket off before draping it over your figure not minding how the cold nipped at his skin but he didn’t interrupt you, he knew better to do so. “Angry thoughts..well they started out that way but now they’ve turned into something more..violent.” You explained carefully pulling his jacket closer to your frame, eyes casted off in the woods. You imagine some man standing there, blood covering his hands and drenching his shirt, a wicked smile on his face as he looked up into the night sky and laughed out loud for god to hear him.
Alastor followed your gaze as his humming slowed down until it completely stopped to allow the silence to fill the air, his smile pulling into a more sinister one at how he finally understood. The same one that happened to find its way on his lips after killing his latest victim, he quickly rubbed his hand over his mouth allowing the smile to drop before you could catch a glimpse of it. “I think of what it would feel like to rip flesh from bone..to finally choke him out..I want to know what it feels like to snub out a life..his life. I’m not a violent person and these thoughts terrify me, I try to keep them hidden but…sometimes they slip out.” You finish up finally noticing how tight your throat felt and the tears falling down your face. It felt great to finally get that off your chest but now the anxiety of it all set in, would he rat you out to the police? Would he hate you?
“I don’t remember when they started. Was it when I was forced to get married to him? I’d tell myself I can save enough money and start somewhere new..but then I’d miss you..miss your early morning show and our late night talks.” You confessed spilling your problems out onto the sidewalk like a drunkard when he had spilled his guts on the pavement. You were pathetic in your own way. Alastor watched you for a few moments before carefully pulling you into his side, using a handkerchief tucked into his vest pocket to carefully wipe your tears away. “No more tears, dear friend.” he whispered, allowing you to hide your face into his shoulder as his arm wrapped around your waist.
He was at a crossroad in his own mind, should he tell you not to go with it? He wouldn’t want you to go into this dirty mess. But he also wants you to feel the rush of adrenaline when snubbing out a life, he wants to help. But either way if you did or didn’t he’d take care of it..in some way or another. No one should hurt his little mouse in such a way and get away with it. It was silent for a long time as you calmed yourself and he held you with a softness that was foreign to himself and most others.
“I always..I always imagined running away with you..to some old house down near the bayou.” You whispered out feeling the familiar chain that hung on his vest, the one hidden under his jacket. He leaned his head against yours and hummed in reply. It sounded picture perfect in his mind.
~~~
You sat at the church pew next to your ‘husband’ and kept your head down as you listened in on the priest doing his normal sermon. The only time your husband had decided to not be drunk and clean up for once in his life was always on Sundays or when his family was coming over. Something you always ran away from, you stayed in the empty parlor with a glass of water and a small book. His mother was never kind to you nor his sisters, you chose to ignore them and their gossip. Especially when you had to be seated around them in a church talking about a man who you possibly didn’t believe in but was instead forced to hear this priest talk about whatever was in the bible. Your hands clasped together as your mind kept drifting off.
It had only been two days since you told everything to Alastor, your feelings and how you wished to murder your own husband. You haven’t been able to talk to Alastor since which was fine, he was a very busy man after all. Lifting your head up as you felt your husband nudge your leg with his own, you sent him a glance ignoring how he was practically glaring at you. “Don’t embarrass me infront of my family” He hissed out as you glared at the wall. “They already know how rocky our relationship is, John.” You hissed back, about to leave but someone sat next to you keeping his head down, “Sorry I’m late, Dear Friend.” Alastor whispered, making the anger dissipate in a matter of seconds, “Mother wanted to go see an old friend,” He hummed and got comfortable next to you.
After an hour or maybe it was a good 10 minutes you couldn’t tell but Alastor had successfully dragged you away and out of the church under the guise of it being important and he couldn’t dare interrupt the sermon. You didn’t care now as you laughed at some joke that was pointed towards your husband, walking down the street arm in arm as he used his other hand to dramatically explain everything that’s happened between the hours you both had parted. The crying and confession long gone in your mind as you pointed out the flaws in his story but he had only reached over and pinched your nose between his fingers with only a half hearted threat of keeping his ‘secrets’.
As you both walked down the street the laughter and conversation lulled into a peaceful silence. “Where are you taking me?” You asked, feeling a familiar presence in your pocket, the gift you had forgotten about for weeks now. “Just for a walk through the park, Dear.” He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, a smile had formed on your face but your eyes still had that faraway look in them. Guess you were going back into your own head again, “I got you something a while ago and forgot it in my jacket” you called out reaching into your jacket and pulling the small box out, you didn’t want to bring up the fact it was supposed to be a gift for your husband. Alastor abruptly stopped in his tracks and looked at you, “You didn’t need to do such a thing, Dear.” You only smiled at him and gave him the box, “I know..but I wanted to give it to you.” You whispered out watching as he opened the box, his eyes widening. It was one of the newer pocket watches that you’ve had your eyes on for a long while now, “Dearest I..I couldn’t take this.” He replied carefully, taking the watch out, flipping it open and smiling. “But you can..and you will cause it’s for you, Al..”
You loved seeing him smile like that, something that you had rarely seen when you first started hanging out. It’s still mostly rare, especially when he’s had a hard day or the simple fact that you sometimes don’t see him for days on end. He put the pocket watch back into the box carefully, “Guess I’ll have to find to pay you back now?” He hummed out placing the box into his pocket causing you to sigh, “You know you don’t have to do such a thing, Alastor. I..I don’t deserve it.” Only criminals give birth to criminals and criminals don’t get nice things.
“Oh but I think you do,” He replied and leaned down to gently tap your forehead, “Despite what those thoughts of yours tell you.” You blinked and stared at him, “You know me too well,” You huffed turning away from him. “Not well enough!” He called happily following after you and quickly catching up, long legged bastard. You looked up at him as he held out his arm, “Are you sure about that, Alastor? I think you know me better than most people.” You said carefully taking hold of his arm, he chuckled and quicked his step making you practically had to speed walk to catch up with him.
The night truly didn’t stop until you were almost on the verge of passing out from laughter and how sleep creeped up on your shoulders. Alastor’s arm was snuggly wrapped around your waist to keep you upright as the sandman was practically calling your name. “Come on now, one foot up the step.” He whispered as he guided your sleepy self up onto your own porch. “I can walk fine, Alastor. I’m not drunk,” You whispered, shaking your head trying to fight off how your eyes grew heavier. You don’t like being up past a certain time in the early mornings but for Alastor you would’ve done it a million times over….Maybe you did have a crush on him but he wouldn’t love you back in a million years.
You don’t remember when you got into your bedroom, did you black out on him? Yet he was still holding you against his chest as he swayed you to an imaginary rhythm. “And here I thought you had fallen asleep on me already.” He whispered out, causing you to jump out of your skin for a second before you huffed, “Sorry, didn’t mean to do so.” You replied leaning back to try and smooth out his shirt, now noticing his jacket was draped near the door of your bedroom. “Nonsense, I find it comforting in a way that you trust me to fall asleep near me.” He replied watching you, his bow tie had been undone for a couple hours now but watching the way you had subconsciously fixed it for him made his heart race and butterflies erupt in his stomach.
His mind wandered off watching as you blinked the sleep from your eyes to make sure he still looked presentable. He wondered sometimes what it would be like if he married you instead of that idiotic man. “..Don’t leave for too long this time, Al..I know I’ll eventually hear your voice on the radio but sometimes it’s not the same..” You whispered out glancing back up at him, his gloved hand reaching up to cup your face tracing the bags under your eyes with his thumb, “I’ll try, Cher..” He replied as he leaned down to press his head against yours. He couldn’t promise it but he’d try especially since he has been working so hard on his plan to get rid of that idiotic husband of yours.
You leaned your head up, allowing for your noses to brush against one another. His arms were still wrapped around your waist, one of his hands splayed on the middle of your back. Then it had hit you, all those times he had pulled you away from your husband and took you to the places you loved..was he silently courting you? Had he been doing so for days now and you were just too stupid to notice? You gently cupped his face and watched as he had opened his eyes, when did he close them? “I..Alastor? Have you been courting me?” Your voice was only above a whisper making him freeze in his tracks. He was silent for a long time before he nodded and sighed. “I have been yes,” He replied and you felt your face warm, seemingly all of the tiredness from before had dissipated.
His gloved hands came up to carefully grasp onto yours as your thumb caressed his cheek, a faint scar that had healed overtime. You remembered when you saw the scar, yet you never asked, figuring he would’ve told you when he decided to do so. He had yet to say a word about it so it must’ve not been important. In the years that you had known him, you’ve grown to love him and to be wary of him all at the same time. He was a wild mutt waiting to sink his teeth into any fresh meat he could find, he wasn’t the one to be tamed or “domesticated” and you surely would never think to tie him down to a preconceived notion such as marriage or a family life. It took someone truly special to worm their way into his heart and that was a tough act, nonetheless, he had picked and prodded at the worst parts of you wanting to see how quick it took for you to finally snap at him, show your fangs and reveal your weak spots to him. He loved the game of it.
Yet here he was, the same wild animal that used to raise his hackles and bare its sharp teeth was essentially laying down and showing his belly to you. He’d disappear to find his fill and get those fangs bloodied before he’d make his way back to you. Maybe everyone who told you to stay away was right, he wasn’t a man to stick around but here you were inviting the man into your home day after day because you just couldn’t get enough of him.
Blinking your thoughts away you focused on Alastor, how he had leaned closer to you. “May I?” He whispered, ever the gentleman he was, his hands carefully squeezing yours as you nodded your head a small smile on your lips. Wordlessly, he closed the gap and gently kissed you. At first it was such a small kiss but you didn’t want it to end, you just got a taste of what it felt like to be loved..actually loved and it felt amazing, that one small kiss turned into a bigger one as his hands fell down to hold onto your sides.
You would be asleep until lunch the next day, the memory still fresh on your mind as you awoke to find a small gift box on your bedside table. You were going to kill Alastor.
~~~
You sat in an office, legs crossed as you watched the lawyer in front of you collect some papers and give you a passing glance every so often. “Now, it’s to my knowledge you are looking to file for a divorce?” The man asked, causing you to nod, “Now is there a reason for this divorce?” You huffed, how many times did you have to explain it? “Infidelity, I’ve caught him one too many times and I’d rather make this quick.” You huffed out venom lacing your tongue as you watched the older gentleman nod and produced some papers.
After an hour of signing papers and making everything on record you had finally gone home. You didn’t even greet your husband when you walked inside, just placed the papers on the table and left for the day ignoring how he yelled out for you. You had walked all the way to the park, the same park Alastor had walked you to all those weeks ago and you spilled your darkest secrets out into the open. Sitting on the same bench as you watched people pass by as your eyes drifted to the woods, you also knew Alastor was an avid hunter and you’d be alone for a while longer as deer season came around. You’d be alone with your husband and your thoughts. You hoped this divorce would go through but it was a slim chance and then you would rightfully be kicked out of church for thinking of doing such a thing. Laughter rang in your ears as you got lost in your own world, your eyes glued onto the Doe walking out of the collection of trees to find something to eat on.
As the doe finally found something to snack on it had turned its head up and towards you. A small part of you felt a twinge of dread as you stared at the doe and the other part felt calm as the feeling started to grow and settle into the pit of your stomach, your breathing slowed down considerably before the doe had run off seemingly spooked away. You frowned and watched as it disappeared further into the woods. Gloved hands clamped down onto your shoulders making you jump up in surprise and let out a loud scream as Alastor’s laugh was heard from behind you.
You turned on your heel ignoring the passerby who looked on in confusion, “I’m going to kill you, Alastor.” You hissed out trying to hide the prominent blush on your features and how your lips creeped up into a smile. He smirked, he knew you didn’t actually mean you would kill him. Your version of ‘kill’ meant you would simply get him back later in some kind of fashion. You were a smart person after all. “I’m sorry, Dear! You were so out of sorts you looked primed for me to scare you.” He hummed and moved to sit down on the bench, his hand patting the spot next to him. You let out a loud sigh sitting next to him, “What’s on your mind?” He hummed out fixing his gloves before moving to brush imaginary dust off his pants.
You were silent for some time trying to figure out the words in your head, “I gave John divorce papers today.” you whispered out causing him to look over trying to hide the growing smile on his face, you still haven’t brought up the kiss you both shared the night before and you were scared to do so. “Really?” He hummed, leaning back against the bench using one hand to tap a melody on his knee, “I’m just waiting for him to sign it and see if the court will..allow the divorce to happen.” He didn’t answer and looked ahead as the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence. Your mind raced as another cold breeze hit you in the face, what would you do if the court denied the divorce? Would Alastor still..be by your side? The thoughts raced and raced but before you could delve deeper, a warm inviting hand was placed onto your shoulder causing you to look over at him confused but leaned into the warmth.
“It’s going to be okay, Dear. Don’t let those thoughts run you ragged now.” You nodded at his words and smiled, “Figured you’d be out hunting by now.” That made him let out a small laugh as his smile grew wider and went off on a tangent about hunting and how to actually be a good hunter.
You’d be fine.
~~~
You’d be fine.
Those were the words echoing in your head as you were now standing in your kitchen hands on the counter as you stared down at the broken glass cup as you heard your husband yell at you. The amber liquid is now spilling onto the wooden floor, your cheek burned like hell and you tasted the iron in your mouth as you unclench your jaw allowing your teeth to free themselves from your tongue. You stormed over to the phone and used the rotary dial to call a familiar number that you had stuck in the back of your mind. Alastor. You don’t remember the start of the conversation. All you could mumble between the stinging pain and blood in your mouth was, “Come over..It’s an emergency.” Before hanging up abruptly.
The next few moments were quick in your mind but you knew it took far much longer to do as your hands trembled. Grabbing whatever heavy metal object you could find in the vicinity, as your husband turned to face you once more. The fear in the man’s eyes as you swung and hit him in the face, breaking his nose with a sickening crack. He fell to the floor, his hands moving to cover his nose as he stared up into your empty anger filled eyes, god..it felt good to see him as nothing but a pathetic ant beneath your feet. It felt invigorating as you dropped to your knees one hand holding him down as you continuously bashed the item into his face until he was nothing more than a lifeless body surrounded by a pool of his own blood.
You stared down at him and then the blood covering your hands as tears formed into your eyes and a sob bubbled up from your throat but you weren’t sad. Far from it..you were relieved as you looked up at the ceiling falling flat on your ass as you started to laugh between horrid sobs. Your hands grasping at your shirt laughing louder until your cheeks hurt from how long you were smiling and as Alastor finally came into your vision. The smile faltered for a moment as another loud sob wracked your body, “I did it, Al..I did it-” You choked out as you curled into yourself. “It felt so fucking good..I felt fucking invincible.” You hissed out blood dripping from your mouth and onto the floor. “Oh god- I finally fucking did it.”
Alastor walked over calmly and quietly, his hands clasping on your shoulders. His suit was long gone as when you called him he was in the middle of getting ready to go out ‘hunting’ but when he heard your desperation, he rushed over immediately. “You did and I’m so proud of you, Dearest..but go get cleaned up and I’ll deal with the mess, yes?” He whispered into your ear as you let out another sob allowing him to help you stand up on your two feet. As he helped you to your own bathroom and got you fresh clothes, he went back to the freshly dead body in your kitchen and smirked. “Got what you had comin’ old boy.” He hissed out before starting to get to work cleaning up the mess.
It didn’t take him long to clean up but now he had to find a way to actually get rid of the body. In your backyard? No, that's too suspicious..in the woods? Maybe but he doesn’t want you to have another breakdown. But he would have to wait until night time so right now? He’s going to have to play the part just in case people start to suspect something. He looked around and draped a blanket over the body before dragging it towards an empty room.
When he had walked back to the kitchen, he had watched as you were carefully cleaning up the shards of glass. Walking over he had finally noticed the blooming bruise on your cheek causing a part of him to be angry. “He hit you?” He whispered out helping you stand up, “Yeah..after we got home after the court denied the appeal..said I embarrassed him and broke a cup over my head before slapping me.” You whispered your speech slurred from your swollen tongue making you flinch, “What do I do now?” You whispered out, allowing him to gently grab your chin, “I don’t know what to do, Al..” His eyes softened and he sighed, “Sit down and I’ll cook something for you, Dear. We are gonna have to wait till nightfall.” He hummed, pressing a gentle kiss upon your head.
Later that night, he had helped you bury your ex husband deep in the forest, he mostly did all the dirty work but he did explain how to hide a body.
~~~
It was now 1931, four years after you had killed your ex husband and a year after the economy collapsed. You and Alastor had moved in with one another and while not officially married by the courts you both loved one another and acted as such. Wearing a wedding ring on your finger told everyone you were either remarried or you still loved your poor ex husband that was murdered in cold blood by the rampant serial killer that was on the loose. Which would be far from the truth.
His family blamed you for his murder, calling you every name in the book and berating you for ‘kicking him out of the house’ which also wasn’t the truth. Yet another lie your ex had spun to keep his pride intact, you didn’t care in all honesty. The man was gone now..killed by your hands.
But here you were walking down the dark streets of New Orleans to get back home to your loving Beau, you had heard through the grapevine he was having a rough day and hoped to cheer him up that night but as you continued to walk down the street you realized that you were being followed. But maybe not maybe it was just your paranoia, but still you felt like a waiting duck, taking a turn down an alleyway and then another hoping to lose the trail of whoever was following you.
It wasn’t until you had gotten to a familiar part of town out near the bayou that you felt relatively calmer but then that was stomped on when you heard a yell from behind. You looked back thinking it was one of the friendly neighbors but it wasn't. It was the man from before the same one who was following you. You dropped the book you were holding and broke out into a sprint down towards where your house was, trying your best to dodge anything that could hurt you. Then a loud shot rang out and it sounded like thunder causing your body to freeze up for a second. But you continued to keep running, you just needed to get home..you could see the smoke billowing from the chimney and the soft glow of the lights inside.
Your heartbeat was banging on your chest as you ran, you were almost there..you could see Alastor inside before a loud SNAP echoed through the silent air as you fell face first into the ground.
You scrambled to get up sobbing as you looked back to see a trap digging into your leg, its sharp teeth scraping against bone as you sat up watching as the man got closer. “Fuck fuck-” you hissed out as you started to painfully get the jaws of the trap unstuck and scrambled off ignoring how your leg was burning. You yelled out for Alastor before another loud shot echoed through the air. The constant buzzing of the cicadas had gone silent as you fell to the ground gasping for air. Oh god it hurt, your hands moved to clutch your stomach as you looked up at the man, pistol in his hand pointed right between your eyes, “You killed my brother.” He hissed out his voice breaking as you teared up and begged him to let you go.
Tears cascaded down your face as he yelled, whispering some prayer that spilled past your lips and then the night went silent. As the gun had fallen down the hammer hit the ground first causing the gun to be set off, the bullet flying into the sky of the New Orleans Bayou. You trembled laying on the ground sobbing as you brought your hands up to see blood covering them the moonlight had casted down upon you as you sobbed out. There was movement before your head was lifted up and cradled into your Husband’s chest. His familiar cologne invades your senses in a comfortable way as he shakily tries to stop the bleeding.
“It’s going to be okay, Cher..I’ll fix you right up.” he whispered into your hair as he pressed his hand onto your stomach. You were bleeding out too much as your breathing started to slow. No no it wasn’t supposed to end like this, tears raced down his cheeks as he pulled you closer as your hand weakly grasped around his sobbing out how you didn’t want to die. But he knew he couldn’t help you, he was far too late to properly help you and it was too far to get you to a doctor. “Sing me a song, Al?” You whispered out, “One last song?” he nodded and cleared his throat, watching as the light in your eyes slowly faded as he sung your favorite song.
He stayed like that for an extra hour, holding your lifeless body to his and singing all your favorite songs before he finally had the courage to find a place to bury you properly, making sure that when the sun rose the next morning it’s first rays it sent out over the bayou would hit your grave. You always did love watching the sun rise and listening to his broadcasts.
He would meet you again, he just knew it. He just didn’t know when.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor hazbin hotel#gn reader#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x gn!reader
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Headcanons about Konig being the runt of his family? Like, his father is 6'10", and his brothers are all over 7 feet or something.
anon, I’m on the floor (5’3”/160cm gang rise up)
König loves his family, but seeing them after being one of, if not the, tallest at KorTac always throws him off. I personally think König is 6’10”/~208cm, so his family being taller, even by a smidge, is insane haha
all the height comes from his father’s side of the family, for sure. those genes are strong, especially considering his siblings. I headcanon König having an older sister and two older brothers, he’s the family baby. I could see his father being 6’11”/~210cm, König being just barely shorter than him
his oldest brother is coming up at a whopping 7’2”/~218cm. he’s ridiculously tall, even König can be put off by his eldest brother’s height. his eldest brother is really charismatic though, has a charming smile and smooth voice! he forgets how tall he is when he approaches people - sure, they have to crane their necks to look up at him, but he’s equally craning his neck to look down. the second oldest son is a flat 7’0”/213cm, total sweetheart. König and his second oldest brother are total mama’s boys. while König went off to volunteer for service, his brother stayed home. he eventually moved out, but is still in their hometown so he can help his mama around the house.
König’s sister is also considerably tall, a solid 6’1”/~185cm. while König’s brothers don’t tease him for being the shortest son, she will. she’ll poke at him, and he’ll poke back, “Hey, watch it, Kleine Dame.”. she supported König throughout his middle and high school days, wouldn’t hesitate to beat a kid up for picking on her younger brother (did fight someone once, their mama was not amused. their father was lol)
his mother is 5’5”/165cm, and bless her family, all the furniture is mostly suited to her height. it’s almost comical seeing everyone home for the holidays. as children, the furniture wasn’t necessarily an issue, but having her grown children moving about the house? and her husband? she feels a little bad, but König and his siblings throw a fit when she suggests new furniture! this is the furniture they grew up with, they’ll put up with squeezing together on the couch, don’t worry, mama
seeing their family walk around in public is a scene. people stop and stare, a couple double takes, as the four siblings walk around. König gets a little self-conscious, but his siblings laughing and talking helps to ease him. he’ll loosen up eventually, having a good time while his mama and father lead their little group to a local restaurant - the table and chairs a little too small for them, but the atmosphere is lively and warm
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Promise Me | Part I
When he was sent out for war, Bucky made a promise to his lover that might just last through several lifetimes.
Summary: Y/N kept being reincarnated into the world for seemingly endless of lifetimes with the lasting, vivid memories of her past lover during the 40's, Sargent James B. Barnes. While she thought this was a 'punishment' for her sins, she was also unknowingly oblivious to the fact that James was still alive somewhere, almost forever frozen in the time.
Navigation: Part I | Part II | Part III (end)
Words: 6.5k++ (hella long bc lots to cover in the story building part)
Pairing: 40s!bucky / eventually tfatws!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: just slow induced angst for your daily consumption (i guess?) It has a hopeful ending so don't let the first warning chase you away. reincarnation concept. an attempt to follow exact mcu timeline (forgive if i'm wrong at certain parts). slight religious contents. grief & loss. graphic violence. deaths. mention of suicide. a lot of reader's pov, story building > dialogs (sorry guys).
P/S: Another impulsive writing from me y'all. I hope you don't get bored of this tendency of mine lol. I just need to let the fantasies out before it consumes me. So... anyway, it's gonna be another 3 parts fic cause for the love of god, I cannot commit for more :') Also, my first attempt of writing 40's bucky!!! I'm honestly scared. I hope you like it!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
Italy, 1943 – His return
If there was one thing that Bucky should have expected when he decided to be in a relationship with Y/N was it would be that he had to accept her for who she was; stubborn, clumsy, bold, clever, sweet and most certainly the prettiest dame he ever met.
He might have unknowingly signed up for it the moment he quite literally fell for her at one of those Stark's science expo. Bucky had been stealing glances at this one pretty lady in the crowd; adored in soft mint dress that falls right below her knees.
It wasn't even a scandalous dress to wear in public but somehow Bucky was more than ecstatic to marvel at her beauty. There was no such thing as a too long of a stare, especially when she laughed like that; throwing her head in amusement, the loose strands of her curls fall back across her shoulders as they slightly shook to the rhythm of her laughter.
A careless misstep – that Bucky could see from a mile away – had caused her to stagger backwards and twisted her ankle into an inevitable fall. Somehow, Bucky managed to slither his way through the crowd towards her, almost jumping forward to catch her before she landed on the ground.
Not only that he was the one who fell first, but he also fell hard.
So, it was expected that Bucky knew what he had got himself into. At least, that was what Y/N had been repeating in her head to convince herself for what she had done. Now that she was sitting at the back of the wobbly military truck, the fear had slowly started to seep into her, causing shivers to crawl all over her nerves.
Y/N just knew it in her guts that Bucky would be absolutely furious when he sees her but what does he expect her to do when she hadn't receive any letters from him for months now. So, when she heard that they needed more medic volunteers at the Italy base, she signed up without thinking twice about it.
"There has been a recent attack on the 107th. Too many casualties and much more whose heavily injured. You might have your hands full the moment you arrive to the base. There are few rules..." The lieutenant's voice was as rigid just as his demenour when he continued to inform the situation to the troops of medical staff.
No matter how much she wanted to pay attention to his words, Y/N couldn't help but to tune in only at his first few sentences. Casualties and heavily injured. Her hands moved to search for the cross pendent hanging from the necklace around her collarbone, gripping it tight as she prayed that her lover was not categorized under any of those dire circumstances.
What the lieutenant said in that truck could never be more true; as the moment they stepped into the medic tent, Y/N and the others were quickly pulled to assist the fallen men. It was truly heartbreaking and horrid to witness the dreading truth behind what the public posed as the "heroes of the country".
Surely they were proud to fight for the nation but then again no human being should ever had to suffer the consequences of war; not the civilians and certainly not the soldiers.
After seemingly hours of continuous stitching, wrapping and patching up; surrounded sound of groaning pain and the endless cycle of inhaling the distinct scent of fresh blood, burned flesh and the bitter of anticeptic odor; the injured soldiers were finally taken care of and had been put to rest.
Y/N looked around the tent, noting the unorganized mess around the patients; the result of the panic and chaos of the whole situation. A thought came to her mind, she might need to do some cleaning up before writing down medical record for each one of the patients.
That was when the lieutenant entered into the tent, and his stern gaze swiftly analyzed the much calmer scene, "Thank you for your service, everybody. I assume the soldiers are stabilized?"
"Yes, sir." One of the battalion doctor replied as he approached, while the rest of the team watched from where they stood.
The lieutenant simply nodded, "Good." He paused for awhile and looked around, "Now, have any of you met Captain America before?"
There were bunch of no's murmured around the medical staff, some of them just shook their head as an answer and the lieutenant nodded again, "Well, I guess you are all just darn lucky cause he's here to perform. You are invited to come and join the others to watch, if you want to." He informed.
"Steve's here?" She thought to herself.
As the lieutenant continued to explain some things about accommodation, food and medical supplies, Y/N's head were filled with thought that her dear friend, Steve.
"I wonder if he gotten any words from James."
"Maybe he got letters from him?"
"Or could it be that he was here to find James too?
There were so many questions kept circulating in her head that by the time she snapped out of them, the lieutenant was already long gone and some of the volunteers went out to untangle themselves from the hours of stressful tension.
As a nurse herself, she felt the need to take care of her patients and finish her job before anything else. So, she started to clean up the shredded clothes, bloodied guazes and the other medical tools that needed to be sterilized and put away.
By the time she finished, it finally dawned to her that there was no trace of Bucky in the medic tent. Which means he didn't fall into the heavily injured category. So, there was two left; the one she prayed for and the other that dreaded her to even think about.
Y/N quickly made her way towards the tent where she can find the soldier in charge. However, if she was focused during one of the lieutenant's speech in the truck, she would've heard that she and the others were not authorized to enter certain parts of the base, which include the higher ups' tents.
When she was turned down by the soldiers, she sadly walked away towards the main area where Steve was supposed to perform. The drag of her feet across the dusty sand was heavy; but no more heavier than the burden in her heart.
She watched as her black pump shoes gradually covered with light sand. Finding it odd that a few weeks ago she was standing on the shiny tile of a hospital in Brooklyn and now she was halfway across the world in the middle of the chaos of a war.
The things she'd do for love.
Soon enough, the dry ground was wet from the sudden down pour, turning it into a murky soggy path. Y/N quickly ran towards the main area; where apparently the show was long over. "Did I missed Steve?" She thought as she stepped into the tent where the performers supposed to be.
The tent turned out to be empty as she suspected. There was only the sound of drizzling raindrops above it was left behind.
She looked around the area and saw the costumes for the performers were still there; the pleated white and red skirt hanging on the rack, white gloves clipped with them, the captain's shield with notes sticking at the back of it and the iconic blue helmet-mask plastered with the obvious letter of A.
She peeked a little to the right only to see Steve hunched down on the floor, curling into himself just as he always did back when he was left beaten up in the alleyway somewhere in Brooklyn.
A thought passed through her mind; maybe the upgrade of his size doesn't really change his habits.
Y/N walked closer to see him holding his sketchbook on one hand and another was a pencil pressing across the paper. The tip scribled up and down, lining the drawing of a monkey on a unicycle. "I guess the serum does not amplify your art skills huh, Stevie?" she teased as she approached the blonde man.
Steve lifted up his head as he turned towards the familiar voice, "y/n?" His face lit up as he recognized her face. He stood on his feet and pulled her into a tight hug, "It's so good to see you." He sighed, he haven't seen her since his departure to be paraded around the world as the 'symbol of freedom'.
He clearly remembers what he wrote in the letter regarding her wish to volunteer as a medic for the war; practically begging her to not do this and stay home.
But alas, it took awhile for him to process it but when it came to him, he gently pushed her away, "Wait.. what are you doing here?" His brows creased into a worried frown.
Y/N simply smiled as she responded, "They needed help, so I volueentered."
Steve shook his head in disbelief, "I know that." He sighed as a frown deepened across his feature, "Bucky made me promise not to let you do stuff like this."
In which Y/N countered, "And he remind you not to do anything stupid until he get back; so..." she purposely trailed her words for him to draw the conclusion on his own.
He let out a long sigh before concluding, "Bucky's gonna kill us."
Since, Bucky was in the topic, Y/N wanted to take the oppurtunity to asked Steve about him, "About that, have you heard--"
A woman's voice came from her back, cutting in between her words, "Steve?"
Steve nervously distance himself from Y/N as he shyly greeted the brunette, "Hi."
The woman continued to stare at Y/N trying to figure out her role and relationship to Steve but before she could get any strange idea, he quickly introduced her, "This is y/n. She's a good friend of mine at home."
A spark of realization glint through her eyes "I see. I'm Peggy. Nice to meet you." She extended her hand towards Y/N, in which she gladly shook it in hers as she reintroduced herself, "You too. I'm y/n."
After the brief exchange of smile between the two ladies, Steve continued to ask Peggy, "What are you doing here?"
Peggy sighed as she explained, "Officially, I'm not here at all." She paused as she picked her words, "I just came by to oversee the situation after the recent attack."
Although Y/N knew what Peggy meant, she was one of the medic staff that had been stitching up the aftermath of that attack after all. However, Steve on the other hand seemed to be lost.
Peggy further explained, "Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano, more than 200 men went up against him and less than 50 returned." She paused, "Your audience contained what's left of the 107th."
Steve's blues widen in realization that almost looked much like panic, "The 107th?"
"What?" Peggy prompt quickly.
Steve then turned his head to Y/N, "Bucky?" He questioned shortly.
But even she was hoping that he'll know something about Bucky, apparently she was wrong, "I tried to ask but I'm not authorized to enter the tent. I was hoping you heard from him."
Seeing the panic in Steve's eyes, she knew that her lover was no where near the safety that she prayed for. But before fear could set in, Steve sprinted out of the tent, "Come on!" he shouted as Y/N and Peggy ran closely behind him.
When they arrived to the tent, fortunately they had the permission to enter with the help of Peggy. "Well, if it isn't the Star-Spangled Man With A Plan. What is your plan today?" Colonel Philips greeted in a teasing manner.
Steve didn't even bother to greet the colonel as he demanded, "I need the casualty list from Azzano." In which the Philips responded, "You don't get to give me orders, son."
Knowing that arguments won't help the situation, he control his tone of voice and spoke, "I just need one name, Sergeant James Barnes from the 107th." He took a short breath and insisted, "Please tell me if he's alive, sir. B-A-R-"
Colonel Phillips stood on his feet as he walked towards a table behind him, "I can spell. I have signed more of these condolence letters today than I would care to count." He paused before turning around to eye on Steve and briefly on the very worried looking nurse next to him.
"But the name does sound familiar. I'm sorry." There was a flash of sincerity in his eyes when he looked towards Y/N.
The optimistic Steve continued to insist more about other possibilities than casualties, "What about the others? Are you planning a rescue mission?" They went back and forth about the what is the 'right' thing to do, "Yes, it's called 'winning the war'. "
And suddenly sound of the heavy rain fall was all Y/N could hear, then comes the booming of her heartbeat as the panic started to deprive her of any optimism; clouding her judgment to think of anything near to positive outcomes such as Steve.
It was getting harder to breath and the anxiety slowly choked her from within, forcing tears to pool in her eyes. Peggy swiftly took a hold on Y/N, before her knees managed to fall to the ground. The muffled sound of Peggy's voice managed to come through but not enough to wake her from the despair.
Before she knew it, Steve was already gone for an unauthorized rescue mission with the help from Peggy. And ever since, Y/N had spend every waking moment digging her knees into the uneven ground under her tent. Her elbows were bruised from how hard she propped them on the steel edge of the army green cot. Her palms almost dented to shape of the silver cross as she desperately squeeze it between her hold.
She prayed and prayed for his return. For both of her dearest to be safe, to find their way home.
Every part of her body was numb and all she hoped for was to have her prayers be answered. And it seems like God heard her whispers of the night.
Like the others, Y/N was drawn to the commotion as the crowd was getter louder. At first she noticed a few, then the circle of soldiers were geting thicker when the survivors joined the rest of them. There were chantings of "Captain America" that echoed throughout the base and that gave her relief to know that Steve was safe.
But it was not enough to tame her anxiousness. Y/N's focus has never been sharper when her eyes scanned the crowd, she slithered her way between the jumping joy of the soldiers, grabbing onto some men who she mistook as Bucky; until she saw him.
Her heartbeat ramped increasingly as she pushed through the soldiers, finding strength from the blood pumping excitement when she recognize those steel blues and that cheeky smile. Not long before she managed to grab onto his hand and pulled his attention to her.
It was brief but he knew that face anywhere; and suddenly his whole body was engulf into a familiar tight hug that he thought he could never be able to feel again. "James." her voice stuttered even if it was just one word that came out of her lips.
"y/n?" Bucky called her name, almost in disbelief.
God, she never knew that she was able to miss his voice this much.
"Doll, what you doing here?" He gently lead her away, which she reluctantly followed, "I'm here for you." There was no need of lies now that Bucky was here in her arms.
His gaze soften with a mix of concern and joy, "What do you mean you're here for me?" Bucky couldn't help but to let out a short laugh, "Sweetheart, you do realized that you're in the middle of a warzone?" His brows quirked as he reminded.
Y/N rolled her eyes. Of course, she realized that. The moment she saw that form for the volunteer enlistment, she already knew that. But, it didn't stop her to sign up, does it?
She laced her fingers into his, "I didn't come all the way here to fight with you, James." she whispered as she leaned closer, "So, please just shut up and kiss me."
Bucky might have just realized it now; what a stubborn, demanding, crazy little lover got himself. Though at the same time, he had never been more charmed.
Bucky sighed in defeat before running his tongue on his lower lip, "Well then, come here you little minx" he took her by the head and gave her the most desperate yet sweetest kiss she could never forget.
Brooklyn, 1944 – Promises, promises
It was the day that Steve, Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos were depolying to the Austrian Alps for one of the biggest mission since Captain's impulsive rescue mission in Italy last year.
Apparently, Zola was on the move and predicted to be passing though the location while travelling on a train.
This wasn't the first time she had sent Bucky away, but the fear of each departure always felt like it was her first; especially when she thought about the promise of death that's chained to a soldier's fate.
The closer the time of departure, the stronger her grip on Bucky's uniform becomes. And Bucky didn't need to say anything because he knows her too well; she won't take any of his sweet words as a cure for her distress.
Instead, Bucky slowly swayed her from side to side as their embrace tightens with need; her face hidden in the crook of his neck while his arms secured around her waist. He had to smile as it reminded him of their late night dance, barefoot on the kitchen floor of his tiny apartment.
He could feel the teasing gaze coming from his back as well as the whistles of the Howling Commandos playfully making fun of him. Bucky was also well aware of the fact that everyone had made theirs bets on when will the Sargent James B. Barnes finally get down on his knees for his little nightingale of a nurse.
Unsurprisingly, Steve might just win the bet afterall. That punk just had know everything about him.
Y/N snuggled closer into him, "Come home to me, James." She whispered against his skin before pulling away. Teary eyes threatened to spill its salty liquid as she looked up at him, "Promise me."
Bucky's charming smile lighten his features as he leaned to press a kiss in her forehead, "I promise."
Brooklyn, 1945 – Loved and lost
Months gone by, entered the new year, and it always felt like eternity for Y/N. She spent nights kneeling next to her bed and days on the church's floor; practically begging to God for the life of her lover, for keeping him away from death.
And the letters from Bucky also come and goes within those few months' time, with his promises of coming home; laced in the words of his longing and love for her.
But, little did she knew, that promise met it's end of the bargain when the dreaded letter came to her hands. It came from the man she met back in Italy base, Colonel Phillips, sending the words of condolences for the death Sargent James B. Barnes during his honourable mission at the Austrian Alps.
But the first time she read to words, it didn't even register in her head. It was as if her brain failed to translate the text; unable to make it so she understood what they meant. Y/N had been re-reading the same lines over and over and over until it finally clicked.
The usually bright eyes of hers were now slowly filled with tears, she was in the state of shock; that even if her brain knew exactly what had happened but her heart wasn't ready for it.
The tears started to fall down onto the letter. Drip by drip. And all of the sudden she lost every word that she could ever think of. Her silent scream; suffocating her with each breath she took desperately gripping onto the fragile piece of paper, holding it to her chest hold as if that would help to ease the pain in her heart.
Y/N could feel it in her ripping guts. How all the threads of every joyful memories she could ever once recall; they unraveled in a way that broke her to pieces until they were all but a rumpled of strings scattered about her feet.
A sharp fall had forced Y/N down to her knees, skin digging into the hard floor as her hands trembled silently, clutching onto the letter.
At first when she opened her mouth, there was not a single sound came out as her breath ripped from her lungs. Each left her with scars of loss and every waking minute in this reality was just pure pain.
Her body bend forward until her forehead meets the cold floor; that was when she wailed – an agonizing scream that left a haunting memory to the neighbours around her apartment.
She cried like there was too much raw pain inside that she could never contained. She cried like her soul needed to break loose from her skin, desperate to release a loathful rage on the world.
But it was more than just crying, it was the sobbing of a woman that drained of all hope. She sank on floor, willing herself to be swallowed by the dread and loss. Just screaming out the agonies that been dancing across her vulnerable veins.
Her chest violently quivered as she was desperately trying to catch the air. She collected every last energy that she had to call out the name of the lover she had loss, "James.." Her gasping breath whispered against the floor, "You promised."
A month later the nation celebrate to the announcement to the end of a war, but to Y/N it was just another wave of mourning grief to a loss of another precious person in her life; Steve.
Amidst the loud sound of cheering and laughter, she rushed away from the crowd to the place that she had put all her faith into. Stumbling through the empty church and falling at the feet of Jesus' statue, Y/N looked up at the face of God; not with her usual admiration but instead with so much loath, rage and despair.
The night sky was brighten to the flashing light from the firework but all she could think of was how similar the sound of it to a firing canon in the war.
And the thought of Bucky and Steve run through her mind.
She had been nothing but faithful to the lord, religiously prayed for no more than saving the life of people she held dear to her heart.
But, God thought it would be merciful to let them die.
Y/N harshly ripped the cross necklace from her neck, tearing her skin apart in the process. She gripped on the cross in her hands, much like she would few months back but for completely different reason.
The crimson of her blood tainted the white collar of her nurse uniform as she she cursed the all mighty God for what he had done. Ever since, she swore to herself to never be naive to the illusion of God's mercy ever again.
Washington D.C., 2014 – An old friend
Fate is full with irony and God has his way of twisting them for his own pleasure.
When Y/N died in the 60's, old and unmarried, even if she doesn't believe in God anymore, her dying wish was to be able to meet her lover and friend again.
At least one more time.
But lo and be hold, he had different plans for her. Y/N's body did die that night on the hospital bed but her soul never did. It was as if she was woken up from sleep in another body with the same face as her, that's when she realized she has been reincarnated.
Apparently, she was only born in the same family lineage as her original life; whether coming from her younger brother or cousin or anyone related back to her bloodline. And sharing even the tiniest amount of blood of her own, triggers every single memory from her previous life.
This wasn't what she wanted.
She didn't want to live knowing she cannot be with Bucky.
So on the second life, she did the unthinkable. She took her own life, thinking that she would finally leave the world behind but she didn't.
It happened again.
And again.
And again.
So, when she reached her sixth life, she realized that she will never able to meet James and Steve ever again; that was when she went rogue.
Her sixth life was filled with rage and vengeance; to the point that she took the idea of life very lightly. So, instead of living until the old days, she searched for revenge and got herself tragically killed in the process.
Now, the 18 year old Y/N was in her seventh life, with a new name that was given by her seventh parents, "Evelyn" , and the spitting image of her first life. From her dark raven hair to the light brown of her eyes. This time, she decided to try to accept the cruel fate; the cursed that God had placed on her for the sin that she made decades ago.
Y/N walked around the Smithsomian Museum, specifically at the American history section where they put up Captain America's exhibit. It's been how many lifetimes since she surround herself with knowledge of a past that she once lived.
This was the first time, since her first life. And most probably the last time since she was going overseas in a week to continue her studies in Asia.
She walked along the line up display of the Howling Commandos suits, remembering the living flesh of them as she took steps forward to each, stopping in front of Bucky's.
Flashes of him appeared to where the figure stood; the memories was so vivid that she could still feel fabric of his suit against her, the electrifying feeling on his skin on her own.
She ripped her gaze away just to be greeted by the portrait of Bucky, plastered so huge and proud on the memorial of one of the Howling Commandos section. Despite the cracking of her heart, her body move on its own; as they knew that deep down, Y/N's heart will always be yearning for her lover.
Her gaze soften with longing and nostalgic as she slowly blink at his features. His considerably messy hair, that little frown that he does to act mysterious for the ladies, and the thin layer of beard that she loved to leave her lipstick marks on.
Y/N's daydream were cut short when someone pulled her by the arm, startling her into a defensive mode. Her sixth life's habit almost broke through when she nearly flipped the man on the floor but thankfully she stopped herself as she recognized those blue eyes.
The man's face looked pale like he had seen a ghost, as he uttered a name that she haven't heard for decades, "y/n?"
"Steve..." she called his name wordlessly.
She knew he was alive. Everybody does.
When the news came out in 2011, she was merely a 15 year old kid back then. Apparently, the super soldier serum helped him to survive the ice.
She remembered how her parents rushed to her room when they heard the sudden cluttering sounds of panic upstairs, only to find their daughter on the floor looking pale while her cup of iced coffee spilling in all over her study desk as the viral youtube video of Captain America running through New York city barefoot playing on the screen of her computer.
She remembered the feeling of both disbelief and joy that rushed through body as her parents helped her to sit up on her bed. The moment that it sunk into her head, she began to cry. Streams of joyful tears broke from her shaky body, each drop washed the painful burden in her heart as her parents lulled her to sleep.
Y/N never made an effort to meet him after knowing truth. Because who would believe her?
She wasn't Steve.
There wasn't any super soldier serum in her blood. There wasn't any tank of chemical that drown her with power.
She was cursed and now she had to live with it.
Meanwhile, Steve seemed to be trapped in a spiralling confusion of his own. He examined each of her features and he had not a single doubt that she has the same face to an old friend in the 40's.
The same friend that he knew died of old age in the 60's.
But, how come the person managed to have the exact same face to hers. Now that he looked closer, she was younger than the last time he saw Y/N.
She looked like she was in her late teens, "Are you really y/n?" His voice was soft as he muttered.
Y/N bit the insides of her cheeks, holding back the urge of telling him the truth, "Sorry, I think you got the wrong person." she tried to untangle his grasp around her arm.
Even her voice was similar to Y/N, and she was looking at Bucky's photo like she knew him.
How could she say that she's was not Y/N?
Steve reluctantly let go of her arms and took a step away after seeing the distress on her face, "I-I'm sorry. You remind me of someone I know." He couldn't take his eyes off her.
She was just too similar looking to someone precious that he left behind.
"It's okay, sir." She smiled gently, like the way she usually does when Steve apologizes for his impulsiveness of picking a fight in alleyways. She looked up to the taller man as she continued, "Thank you for being alive..." she hesitated to call him by his name so instead she called for his other name, "...Captain."
She thanked him sincerely before walking away, leaving Steve to reminisce the memories of his life with Y/N and Bucky as he stared at Bucky's memorial.
The next week, she left the United States for Asia where she planned to spend 4 years studying at the National University of Singapore, leaving her past behind in hopes of moving forward with her life, refusing to care about the avengers shenanigans anymore, including her dear friend, Steve.
New York, 2018 – New norms
When half of the population was wiped out from the earth, two of them was Y/N's parents. And like every other people who had lost their loved ones during the blip, her parents sudden absence truly take a toll on her, especially when she was planning to live a long life with them.
After graduating and getting a decent job in Singapore, she was forced to go back to New York when it happened. Y/N couldn't just let her childhood house left abandoned, she simply can't let that happen.
You would thought a person who had multiple lifetimes would be used to losing someone they love but no. It only gets worst as the years go by.
The more Y/N tried to fit into the new norms, the more that she could feel herself slipping into old habits of her sixth life.
Until that one drunken night when she visited the Smithsomian Museum again after years of forcing herself to forget about him; it took her one look at the potrait of Bucky, she knew what she had to do.
Germany, 2023 – An old nemesis
Nearly 5 years into the blip and Y/N was already becoming a legend in the underground scene. They called her the Deathstalker. She never really knew the origin of it but nevertheless she chooses to stick with the newly founded identity.
With the skills she picked up on her sixth life, she easily became the most deadly assassin in the business. Seemingly in a constant competition of reputation with the highly popular, black widow assassins.
Though she couldn't care less about who was winning the battle, she only cares about tracking anything or anyone related to Hydra.
After that fateful night at the museum, she couldn't help but to think that this must be her calling.
If the curse made her technically immortal, then why not became the hunter destined to slay the monster. They said that Hydra will never die, but so was she. And if anything good came out from this curse, then she might as well use it to avenge Bucky.
And bring the old nemesis to the ground.
Her sixth life was similar to this but she wasn't going to make the same mistake. The flaming greed to have her revenge was too strong back then, it lead her to be hasty and clumsy, which then let her to an early death.
But, she's grown out of those immaturity.
Nowadays, she takes her time and still get the job done flawlessly. Just like she is now, when the soft but dark sound of her chuckle, interrupted the silence that had claimed the room.
The poor man was sitting limp on the chair with his body tied with it. He had been like this for seemingly hours with a knife in one of his thighs, which trembled with the vibrations of his body.
More so, when Y/N twisted them, causing a keen of pain to clawed up his throat and spilled out a hoarse groan.
"Where is it?" Her fingers wrapped around the handle, as she watched the man tossed his head, more with fear than trying to answer.
"I don't like to repeat myself." Y/N slid the blade free, causing a noise he would not forget. The man sagged against his bonds, panting as he watched the blood surged and dribbled out of the wound.
But then he felt the prick against his other leg, wide eyes turning to watch as the knife was held above his skin, Y/N's hand flat against the top, ready to push in. "Where the fuck is it?" her tone was eerie as the voice changer in her mask produced an emotionless robotic effect on it.
"I don't know what you're talking about." The thick german accent seethed through his voice as he grunted in pain.
There was only boredom in Y/N's eyes as she gazes straight into his. A stab of the knife went through his thigh without a warning, until the tip of it almost met the flat surface of the chair beneath it.
The whole room echoed with the sound of the whimpering and cries of his struggle, "Please, I swear to God I don't know what you're talking about." He pleaded as fast as he can, when he felt the shortage of breaths in his lungs due to dealing with the excruciating pain.
"Playing dumb isn't going to help you, mutt." She twisted the knife, pulled out and stabbed it again causing him to fall into an almost delirious state, "Please, please please, I swear I don't know anything about the serum." He blurted out of misery.
There it was.
The thing she wanted to hear.
Y/N's eyebrow quirked in interest, "I never mentioned the serum in our conversation, no?"
He fucked up.
He knew that he fucked up.
But, does it matter when his body was searing in pain?
By the end of the intense interrogation, Y/N finally got the intel she needed to find and destroy whatever was left behind by Wilfred Nagel, who was recruited by the CIA to recreate the super soldier serum.
Those greedy fuckers just cannot stay away from things that shouldn't be meddled with. Even Y/N could see the potential threats of a successful recreation the super soldier serum; they were practically asking for Hydra to revive to its glory days.
And she would not allow that to happen.
She needed to destroy it before its finished.
A loud wail left the man's lips, almost sounded a little strained as he had been screaming in pain for hours. Y/N mercilessly grabbed him by his sweaty chin as she pried his mouth open. Knowing exactly what was coming, the man begged, "Oh lord, please please help me please."
Leaning closer she coldly spoke, "The gods doesn't care about you. Trust me I've been there." With a swift strike, she forced her knife down his throat, and a splash of red tainted her mask, nearly got into her eyes but she managed to blink before it does.
She stood still as she watched him gurgle on his own blood as death collected his soul. Wiping the blood away from her eyelid, she walked out of the abandoned building with a mission to finish; all the while blissfully oblivious to the war that the avengers were fighting to their death on the other side of the world.
Madripoor, 2024 – The most prized asset
The returned of her parents were as sudden as the lost. Though she was glad that they were back, however she had to live a double life now that they kept asking about her job and personal life as they wanted to catch up for the lost of time in 5 years.
Y/N felt bad for lying to her parents but it was for their own good. Now, that she had sent them to a honeymoon to travel all over Europe, she felt better in pursuing her mission without concerns.
Besides the joyful return there was also the awful ones.
Now, that Wilfred Nagel was back from the blip. The serum was perfected to its finest version. And was stolen by bunch of kids protesting for equal rights.
What a fucking mess that was.
But, she would deal with that later. The main focus right now was to find the man itself. There would be no more serums if the source is eradicated.
That was her priority.
With her face hidden behind her signature mask, Y/N walked through the messy crowd as she searches for Shelby's men. This should be a short meeting, since Shelby and her had history together; or more to a favour that she owns to Y/N.
However, when she tried to tune in into the hushed conversations in the crowd, she noticed that the murmurs seemed to be divided into two hot topics; one about the sudden appreance of the Deathstalker, which was herself, and second was surprisingly about the return of another notorious assassin.
Then when the conversations died down, a fight suddenly broke out. Y/N hold on the handle of her blades from the side of her thighs, as she stiffed into a defensive mode.
While on the other hand, the crowd seemed to be more interested in recording the fight, than avoiding it.
She seemlessly weaved her way through the people, only to see that the action ended with a man choked onto the bar table. The was attacker's face turned away from her, she could only see his figure from the back.
Then, a gleam of gold caught her attention, Y/N squinted her eyes as she analyzed the man's left arm.
It was not the pattern of the sleeve from his suit.
It was his arm.
A black bionic arm.
Which reminded of her of someone she came across in her sixth life; but his arm was a tin foil silver with a red star on his upper side. At the time, he was Hydra's most prized asset, they called him the Winter Soldier.
Part II >>
Read my other works here: Masterlist
A/N: yes, I am well aware that left y'all hanging but I still hope you enjoy this one. Tell me what you think so far, I'm curious if y'all cry at the part where she received the letter or maybe you can comment of something else, I'd still love to hear them ♡
#winterarmyyfics#promise me au#bucky x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes au#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#40s!bucky#1940s!bucky#tfatws!bucky
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The rain was coming down like a giant was pissing on the city.
It was times like this that I wished I was human. Detectives love rain. They want the stuff to wash them away with the scum of the street.
I can’t stand water. Never touched the stuff.
My name is Ginger. Once upon a time I used to be the Gingerbread Man. Now I’m a private dick and I drink enough to be a rum cake.
It’s a hard job if you aren’t a tough cookie. I have all the requirements. I’m sugar and spice and a whole heaping of trouble.
I also got an umbrella I borrowed from the Wicked Witch of the West after a case last month. It helps on days like this.
The city was still sleeping like Snow White when I made my way to the crime scene. I turned into an alley and stepped into the remains of a pillow fight from hell. White feathers were scattered across the alley like a soggy snowfall. Blood mixed with rain and trickled down the cobblestones.
Gretel gave me a nod when I walked up. Gretel’s good people. She’s the only person I know who won’t try to eat me. “Thought you might want to see this, Ginger.”
“You’ve been stuffing pillows tonight, Gretel? It looks like Christmas in here.”
Gretel made a face and pointed a thumb to a lump under a tarp. “Then you just missed the Christmas dinner,” she said.
I took a look. There wasn’t much to see besides a greasy little pile of what you’d get if you ate a whole rotisserie chicken down to the bones.
The vic was Chicken Little. I knew the name. Little was a local nut who started a doomsday cult in the neighbourhood. I thought she’d be the kind of dame who’d get into trouble someday.
This wasn’t what I had in mind. Who’d want to whack a pamphlet thumper who thought the world was going to end anyways?
I picked up a rib. There were tiny scrapes scored across it in a line, like she’d been using it to count the days to oblivion.
I stared. “These are teeth marks, Gretel.”
I looked up. Gretel looked sick. That’s when I knew for sure.
“These are fox teeth, Gretel,” I said. “There’s a fox in the city.”
“Ginger, I think you should leave town.”
I flicked the rib back down into the pile of bones and pulled a stub of a candy cane cigar out of my trench coat pocket. “My brother has a house out in the country,” Gretel was saying. “He hates eating gingerbread as much as me. You’d be safe out there for a few days until we can track this fox down.”
I patted down my pockets for a light. Gretel took pity on me and knelt into the shade of the umbrella to light a match.
I puffed a few clouds of peppermint smoke. For a second it really was like Christmas in that alleyway.
I don’t care much for Christmas. Typically people look at me and think of dessert.
“Gretel, you’re good people,” I said. I didn’t realize that I hadn’t said it before. It felt like it had to be said. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Jesus Christ, Ginger, you know how your story ends.”
“Yeah, well. We're all trying to run, run, run as fast as we can from who you are.” I took one last drag and turned out of the alley towards the soggy city. For once, I wished the rain could wash me away. “But eventually it catches up to us.”
#fairy tales#the gingerbread man#hansel and gretel#chicken little#narrativia#short story#drabble#ficlet#noir
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We need to talk about Judge Claude Frollo in the Disney Parks (DURING THE 90's) (he didn't wore a mascot head before then)—————— ⊹₊ ⋆. ♱ ₊˚ .⊹
The fandom needs to know about this. Why is no one talking about it???
Recently I got hyperfocused on HOND and, after watching the movie multiple times, musicals, and tons of video analysis, I finally found the Disney Park content - and oh boy I got so lucky for finding it
I would like to say that, at first, my wish was that the content of this post was posted on tiktok in form of videos and small edits, and while I have a tiktok account, I only post my art and my family follows me there help (imagine what they would think if they saw me posting edits (simping for) of a guy in the disney parks dressed as the most horrific character from disney in the 90s). I also told a friend about this, who has a tiktok accont, wishing they would post something about it, but it didn't happened- So I decided to make a Tumblr post.
I'm not a Disney parks specialist, I don't know a lot about this topic in general, but if any of you are, please correct me if I'm wrong or give me info I didn't included because this would help a lot.
Going to the main topic, you guys probably know how Frollo looks like in the parks today. He barely appears, sure, but he wears a mascot head, and since his mouth is always shut, he's not able to talk, having to speak to people only through signs and body expressions. But during the 90s HE DIDN'T WORE A MASK. He was played by a face actor.
BACK THEN IN THE 90s, the movie of The Hunchback of Notre Dame was released (1996), and the parks started to include the characters in their attractions. As far as I know, we had three main attractions related to HOND back then:
The Hunchback of Notre Dame Topsy Turvy Cavalcade (it's a parade that happened at Disneyland and also Disneyland Paris in the 5th anniversary celebration of the park - overall based on the Festival of Fools scene);
The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Festival of Fools (Which I have NO IDEA of why it's described as similar to the musical adventure in that wiki, since the script, stage and everything is completely different from the musical adventure - The stage is WAY BIGGER and it's mainly focused on the Festival Of Fools, but the story cuts to the end a lot faster than in the movie)
The Hunchback of Notre Dame: A Musical Adventure (a musical theatre, stage show, that happened at Disney's Hollywood Studios, that tells us the whole story of the movie);
The parade has two versions, as I said. Since our main focus is Frollo in this post, in one of the versios Frollo is riding his horse, and in the other one he's standing over one of the floats. Most of the videos I found about it show us Frollo as a face character (no mask on), but somehow there are some videos dated as 1997 about the same parade with him wearing his mascot head, which is just very confusing to me.
I can't exactly explain why he stopped being a face character, I believe that it's related to what Disney did to Fairy Godmother (she's an elderly character, just like Frollo, the same happened to her: previously face character, eventually mask character. I heard a theory saying that Disney probably doesn't want to hire elders because of their physical limitations in having to stay standing in a costume during the whole day).
What confuses me is the fact that in some attractions (the parade at Paris) Frollo is already wearing a mask, but in others (Festival of Fools) he is not yet. You see, the parade ended in 1997, but the Festival ended in 1998, and there is a recording made of the last performance of the Festival on YouTube, and Frollo is still not wearing his mask.
That can be easily explained by them just taking the decision of making him wear the mask during the parade only and keep him as a face character during the Festival. But why? We also have to consider that these take place in different parks and different countries (France and USA).
Let's take a look at the dates:
Parade AT DISNEYLAND: started in 1996 and ended in 1997 - no mask
Parade AT PARIS: started in 1997 and ended in 1998 (in some the videos I found from there, Frollo IS wearing his mask)
but I am confused since I found a video where he wasn't wearing his mask at this same parade, at Disneyland, in front of a "It's a Small World" ride. English is not my main language so I am not sure if they're only speaking in english, because if it was in France (France also has a Disneyland and a It's a Small World) they would be talking in both languages: English and French. And I don't know if I'm crazy but I didn't heard any French there. Which means this is probably at USA. BUT WHY IS FROLLO NOT WEARING HIS MASK AT USA??? I don't know I'm just confused
Festival of Fools: started in June 21, 1996 and ended in April 18, 1998 - no mask (I would like to say that Hellfire is included in this one, it was cut in all the other attractions. Also, near the end, right before his death, Frollo seems to try to grab Esmeralda when Quasi attacks his back, which wasn't in the movie indeed.)
A Musical Adventure (theatre): started in june 21, 1996 and ended in september 28, 2002 - no mask (his actor got changed around 3 times as far as I know, based on the videos that I watched)
Also, between the USA and the France version of the parade, Frollo shows up in three different ways: riding his horse, standing on top of the Notre Dame float, or sitting at his chair at the festival (which appears to be like a mini float, and he wears his mask). They're mixed and it's confusing to me, I am not sure which is where. When I think I understood, I find new footage of these attractions where he appears on top of something else and I don't know what's happening anymore
I don't know guys, I am just really confused and I'll just keep enjoying all the videos I can find of him without his mask, because it's a rare thing to see Frollo showing his face, and now much rarer hearing him talk and express himself properly at the parks. I hate this damn mask. It's clear as the light of the day that it's the same costume from the 90s with no update, no better painting, or anything new for that matter. I don't HATE him, I'm happy that we have Frollo in the parks. It's just that it was better before... if they at least updated that mask and those pale hands...
Despite trying, I couldn't find any pictures from that face character Frollo. You know, pictures people take with the characters? None. All we have are low quality 90s videos on YouTube and that's it. Which makes me really upset, because those videos don't properly capture his costume and makeup, even though I'm really grateful to everyone who recorded them, it's very hard to see his face clearly. That gif at the start of the post is one of those rare moments someone showed us his face up close, and it's from a video recording "The Hunchback of Notre Dame Topsy Turvy Cavalcade" at Disneyland where Frollo rode his horse instead of just standing on top of the Notre Dame float. (It happens at 04:00 and I giggle every single time help)
I would like to make a mini list of all the videos I could find about this on the internet. It will be updated constantly, of course, and separated by topics (the attractions) and their names will be the names of the videos themselves. I would also like to say that the qualities of those videos aren't always the best, but we're lucky for at least having them in our hands in the first place. Sometimes I will point out when he appears, sometimes I won't because I'm lazy.
Edit: Turns out that there are millions of videos about them on YouTube and a lot of them are low quality, so I won't spend time adding *all of them*, just some of the best. If you find a interesting one that's not in the post, send me the link plz!
If any kind soul wants to make funny edits with compilations of best moments please send me the link, I appreciate it
The video list : —————— ⊹₊ ⋆. ♱ ₊˚ .⊹
The Hunchback of Notre Dame Topsy Turvy Cavalcade:
"The Hunchback of Notre Dame Topsy Turvy Cavalcade - Disneyland 1996" (close up view of his face (the death look) at the minute 04:00) (*happy giggles* that's the gif used in the title of the post!) (I would probably pass out if I were this person)
"Disneyland California - The Hunchback of Notre Dame Parade 1998" (he can be seen since 02:10 (during Esmeralda's dance, which he claims "look at this disgusting display!" (also that dance is kinda "uuuhhhhh disneyyy this parade is for children"), and apparently she goes down on the pole looking at him) but he really appears properly at the minute 04:50 and doesn't look at the camera - at the minute 05:30 he's seen pretty close to Esmeralda's float, apparently watching her dance - right after this moment the video is cut and he appears again, this time walking to the opposite way. At the end of the video he's seen again from afar!)
"The Hunchback Parade at Disneyland (at Small World" (he's the first thing we see when we open the video)
"The Hunchback Parade at Disneyland (From The Plaza)" (he's seen at 1:30 standing on top of the Notre Dame float)
"Disneyland-Parade-Hunchback of Notre Dame. Oct 31. 1997." (Frollo can be seen by the first time at the minute 04:40, but he can be seen really closely at the minute 07:05. That happened during a halloween night at Disneyland!)
There is a video that I JUST CAN'T FIND about this same parade, and I remember Frollo riding his horse at the end of the video. It was day and I remember being possible to see him dissapearing behind a curve, still riding his horse. I CAN'T FIND IT, not even in my history. I'll just update this post when I finally find it (IF I find it)
Second edit: Guys I think I'm stupid. I was rewatching the end of THE FIRST VIDEO OF THE LIST and it was that one. I feel dumb now
The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Festival Of Fools:
"Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame - Festival of Fools, Disneyland in 1996 part 2" (a journalistic report about the attraction - the person who updated this didn't published the part 1! Ugh! We only have one half! It's a great video by the way, the quality and the shots are awesome) (Frollo only appears once at 1:30, but the whole video is great)
"The Hunchback of Notre Dame: Festival Of Fools - Disneyland 1996" (That's a part of the show. It has good camera angles but not a very good quality. Frollo appears at 02:10 and at 03:30-04:00 and at 08:05)
"【Old Disney】 The Hunchback of Notre Dame Musical Show!-1996 / ノートルダム の鐘ミュージカルショー" (Full show once again - There is a change in here! At the second 20:26, Clopin went up the stairs and Frollo casually gets the flag from his hand. The flag is a crucial part for the ending, it works like Frollo's sword for a long period of time, and he fights Esmeralda and Quasimodo using it. In other recordings you can see that Frollo gets his flag forcefully from one of the dancer's hands in the middle of the main stage, not from Clopin already up the stairs. At 19:55 we can see Frollo holding the flag, running with it, but when we see him again, the flag is in Clopin's hand instead of Frollo's, and Frollo takes it from him later. What a mess!)
"1996 Disneyland Hunchback of Notre Dame: Festival of Fools" (terrible quality but it adds ✨️flavor✨️)
"Hunchback of Notre Dame Play Disneyland 1996" (The quality is also bad, but we can see the lights and overall hear the music and the spectacle itself here. I wish I was there!)
"Hunchback of Notre Dame: Festival of Fools - Disneyland 1996" (Footage of the whole show, the quality is... average)
"Hunchback of Notre Dame Festival Of Fools--Disneyland History--1990's--TMS-561" (footage of the festival but overall the quality is terrible in this one)
"Hunchback of Notre Dame Festival Of Fools | Disneyland | 1996" (low quality footage of the show. Frollo can barely be seen :c )
""Festival Of Fools" at Disneyland, Presented by Get Away Today (Part 1)" (a TV channel recorded the performance profissionally, even though it's old it's also a good video)
""Festival Of Fools" at Disneyland, Presented by Get Away Today (Part 2)" (part 2 of that same video)
— The last show footage needs to be properly separated here. This makes me bittersweet:
"Festival of Fools - Last Show - Warm Up - Disneyland" (part 0)
"Festival of Fools - Last Show - Part 1 - Disneyland" (part 1)
"Festival of Fools - Last Show - Part 2 - Disneyland" (part 2)
"Festival of Fools - Last Show - Part 3 - Disneyland" (part 3) (Frollo shows up really closely in this one, this person did a wonderful job when recording - and him singing Hellfire!! Ahhhhh!!! He appears again at the end of the video when the characters are thanking the audience)
The Hunchback Of Notre Dame: A Musical Adventure:
"The Hunchback of Notre Dame : A Musical Adventure - Full Show, Disney-MGM Studios 1996 Disney World" (full show)
"Hunchback of Notre Dame Disney-MGM" (full show recorded, great image quality, the camera man gives us zoom and great shots - WE CAN SEE FROLLO'S FACE PROPERLY AT 03:10)
"The Hunchback of Notre Dame: A Musical Adventure" - Full show from 1999 at MGM Studios in WDW" (HIS ACTOR IS AMAZING HERE - We can see his face closely at 02:55, and at 03:33 THE EVIL SMILE IS SO SIMILAR, he even LOOKS LIKE FROLLO HIMSELF! At 11:15 there's the Esmeralda's tease scene which is *chef's kiss* (we can see it really closely) AND IT WAS ALSO DONE PERFECTLY! aaahahshwhwhehsg that's my favorite performance of this show idc, we can see him closely again at 23:20 aaand also at 09:55 - 10:30) [this is where that Frollo and Esmeralda gif I added came from]
"Hunchback Of Notre Dame (2002)" (full show again but this person zooms the characters sometimes, awesome video too)
"The Hunchback of Notre Dame: A Musical Adventure" - Full performance at MGM Studios in WDW - 2000" (We can see Frollo's face from up close at 14:00 - it seems to be a different actor :c )
"1996 Walt Disney World The Hunchback of Notre Dame: A Musical Adventure" (The quality is not the best but I think it's cute the way the person recorded the surroundings. Really looks like a good memory to have. So sweet)
"Walt Disney World spectacle THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME 06 02 1997" (the full show recorded - average quality)
"The Hunchback of Notre Dame: A Musical Adventure @ Disney-MGM Studios - August, 1997" (meh not really in a good quality but it's recorded so let's add it here)
""Hunchback of Notre Dame: A Musical Adventure" Photos and Video from 1996 at Disney-MGM Studios" (not a youtube video, this time it's a website filled with pics taken of the show)
Someone recorded 8 parts of the show, but I would like to add them since it's... you know, my fav Frollo actor until now:
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8
BONUS:
"Meeting Phoebus, from "The Hunchback of Notre Dame: A Musical Adventure" at MGM Studios in WDW" (this is so cute!)
"Festival Of Fools Construction at Disneyland" (the title speaks for itself)
"Disneyland Inside Out - "Festival Of Fools" (report about the attraction)
"Disneyland Paris * May 1997" (showing how the park looked like at that time- a lot of HOND stuff)
"DISNEYLAND: 50 Years of ImaginEARing CD 10-12 FESTIVAL OF FOOLS A Guy Like You" (I believe this is a remastered version of one of the songs that played during the parade. I wish I was there at that time)
"Hunchback of Notre Dame Carnival Disneyland Paris" (this is a video of the parade when Frollo was already wearing a mask, but look at how cute this is! It's a family memory)
#the hunchback of notre dame#hunchback of notre dame#thond#hond#frollo#judge claude frollo#claude frollo#disneyland#disney parks#disney park#euro disney#disney paris
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Love that Bites Pt. 13
IT'S DONE AAAA Sorry this took so long, I have had a rough few months, it's made it hard to write and focus. BUT! This chapter is at least 8000 words to make up for it! I hope you enjoy!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)
Summary: Despite what he had hoped, Dracula has decided to spring a talk of 'business' with you earlier than he had intended. He anticipates it to end in disaster, destroying what little peace you both had. However, he finds things might not end like he presumes...
CW: Anxiety, talks of depression, allusions to abuse, mentions of murder, mentions of sexist behavior, brief mentions of injury
Word Count: 8039 Words!
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Tag List: @kittenlover614 @simpytheshrimpy69 @midgetdemon17 @just-nother-dreamer @adrakeshoard @tilldeathripsusapart @thedeadlynights @pumpkinvampie @bethleeham @mshope16 @sixsixtwenty @haleypearce @rvautomatic @tinystarfishgalaxy @marshmelloe @maorizon @ursamajor17 @sapphicsfordracula @dame-sunflowers @sleepyendymion @starrlo0ver @onewiththebeanbag
First: Here Last: Here Next: Here
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Dracula, if he were being honest with himself, had dread when this day would come.
Deep down, he knew eventually you two would have to talk. There was no getting around it, no avoiding it forever.
After all, you were still a Belmont, and he was King of the Night.
He had known this talk would come before he eventually had been freed. How you mentioned wishing to talk instead of immediately engaging in battle.
However, he would admit that a small part of him looked forward to this, especially before he had been freed from his stone prison.
Back then, he could not help but imagine different scenarios of himself and you discussing the future. This primarily was before he had got to know you a little bit more with each ‘visit’.
Before you broke the curse on him, he had planned on using this talk to gouge your own plans, and see just what kind of a Belmont you really were.
Would you be all bark and no bite? Or was the idea of wanting to talk really just a guise to make yourself more high and mighty than him? Another ‘holier than thou’ spiel he had heard countless times throughout history, and still managing to condemn him?
Perhaps it was even a trick to try and lower his guard? Just to attack like a snake on unsuspecting prey?
Not that he would have let his guard down that easy in the beginning, of course…
Other questions though still had run through his mind at the time as he slowly grew to know you in his imprisonment.
Were you really different? Did a small bit of Leon still persist despite the generations of Belmonts? Was it truly kindness that shone bright in those tired eyes of yours?
It certainly wasn’t naïveté, despite what some may think. Those eyes of yours had seen too much to be dull witted. Any kindness you had to give, it was because you chose to, despite knowing the risks.
That kindness, and your interest in asking questions for yourself. That still drew him in.
However, as time went on, it became almost alarmingly clear that you were in fact serious about this. How you didn’t particularly want to battle him, at least not without hearing him out personally.
No power play here, no desire to put yourself above him while seemingly giving the vampire a chance.
You were a rarity that Dracula didn’t want to let go. Especially when you were just within his grasp.
Humans like yourself were rare, he didn’t want to just let you slip through his fingers, even if you were a Belmont.
If anything, that made it all the more important to try and sway you to see his side of things.
Or to at least… come to an understanding.
However, Dracula was all too familiar with how finicky fate could be. Should he try and lock you away or strongarm you into staying, he’d simply be pushing you away.
It also didn’t help that the idea of simply holding you hostage didn’t sit well in his gut. The last thing he wanted, (even if he refused to admit it out loud), was for you to hate him for stealing you away.
…He would admit he did consider it, though. Dracula had already lost so much, was it hard to blame him for wanting to protect this Little Belmont who was clearly a hidden gem amongst the rotten trash that was humankind?
Still, he couldn’t afford to risk losing you to his own arrogance. Not like this.
Unfortunately though, you unintentionally threw a wrench into his plans.
Originally, he hoped to have you here for at least a week, if not two. During that time, he planned to gleam who had hurt you, and deal with them swiftly if need be.
All while healing you, and seeing if he could push past a few of your walls.
That way, hopefully when you eventually had to have a talk with him about where you both stood, he had hoped he would have enough information to form a way to convince you to stay.
Alas, things never went to plan for him. Fate seemed to enjoy taunting him that way, it seems.
Despite how receptive you had been to him, and how you accepted his care, you surprised him with what you had to say.
How you could not stay much longer. You had to leave soon.
Your words weighed heavy in his heart. However, it became clear this wasn’t exactly a choice you wanted.
It seemed you were oddly reluctant to even mention why, clearly unhappy and anxious about the idea of going back.
That had alarm bells ringing in his mind.
The Lord of the Night was no fool. When he wasn’t constantly being slain by your ilk, he was a ruler, a leader, and a tactician. Among many other things.
No one lived as long as he, and not pick up on different things about human behavior.
A part of him wanted to puff up in pride. You seemingly wanted to stay.
But that was unfortunately a double edged sword, so it seemed.
Sure, you were receptive to his care and being his guest, but that was far from being entirely trustworthy and comfortable around him.
…So just how bad was your home life for you to prefer staying at his castle, even after someone already tried to foolishly tamper with your life?
You seemed a bit dodgy when he delicately prodded about your home life. However, the less you said, the more of a picture it seemed to paint.
No words had to be said for him to assume the worst. The wounds you had must have been from wherever you resided outside his castle.
Yet you stubbornly refused to give him details. Even if you were different from your ancestors, you were still very much a stubborn Belmont.
It would be endearing, if not for the fact he worried about your safety the moment you left his property.
And the fact he had to have this conversation with you now, rather than when he would have liked. He had at least hoped you would be in a better physical and mental state before he sprung this talk on you.
After all, you both couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room forever. One of you would either have to give and declare war, or… Perhaps meet halfway.
Even though he hoped for the best, Dracula was well aware this may end in disaster. He at least hoped it wouldn’t be too explosive.
He’d like to at least fight you on even ground with respect, like you had wished to do for him.
The last thing he wanted was to fight you as you looked up at him, clearly still incredibly injured, despite what the potions have done for you so far. He wouldn’t underestimate you, but he knew that you would no doubt leave with permanent damage if you managed to win.
And if he were being honest, Dracula didn’t want to deal with the whirlpool of emotions he no doubt will have to suffer from if you choose to try and destroy him.
He may be a prideful man who didn’t like admitting his faults, but he was well aware how badly he handled losing someone last time. He didn’t want to kill you or try to hurt you with his own hand.
So he donned his King of the Night mask. Ready to face the music.
Your reaction to his change in demeanor was instant.
Those wide eyes of yours sharpened, and he could practically see the hair on your neck stand on end. Seems a hunter’s instinct never rests.
It was almost fascinating to watch in real time, if he were being honest with himself. Any Belmont he had faced, almost exclusively were ready to fight him from the get go.
So to see you so subtly shift, as if a snake preparing to strike, or a cat ready to react with a strike of its own…
Dracula would be lying if he didn’t find such a sight interesting, stirring a set of feelings in him he thought he had long since buried. A shame he had to see such a shift when he might become your enemy in mere moments.
The air around you both was tense, and was charged with enough energy Dracula idly wondered if it could charge a light at this rate.
“So,” Dracula began, his voice becoming a bit of a bored drawl, “what exactly do you intend to do now, Little Belmont?”
Your eyes nervously bore into his own, and you swallowed thickly as you sat up straighter.
“What I intend to do?”
Dracula kept his lips from curling up into a grin. He at least would try to hold off from antagonizing you like he would with annoying diplomats from other monster and vampire clans.
“Yes. Forgive me for being rather blunt,” he began, his eyes glowing idly as he watched you for any change in behavior, “-but you know as well as I do, that we can’t just pretend the other doesn’t exist after you leave.”
It was subtle, but he recognized the calculating look on your face after he finished speaking. He wondered what thoughts were flying through your head as you scoured your mind for an answer.
Dracula knew his words had to be thought on, though he also imagined you probably had thought about this long before he had even been freed. Although, imagining what one would say in such a situation, and being in the situation you had imagined didn’t mean things would go as one planned.
You were silent for a moment. Then another.
Dracula didn’t mind, nor did he rush you. Despite his shift in attitude, he didn’t intend to push you to make a choice at that exact moment, even if he did put you on the spot.
Though perhaps, that may just be his thin veiled excuse to keep the peace, just for a little while longer.
After a few more moments, you let out a sigh, and put a hand on top of your head. You averted your eyes from him, and closed them.
“I… I don’t wish to fight you.” you began, almost tentatively. Your hands gripped the blanket nearby, and began to fiddle with it.
“You have been very kind to me since uh��� Since you were freed from being a statue. You didn’t have to do that, for me of all humans.”
For a moment, your eyes met his own, and Dracula felt some tension in his body lessen, just ever so slightly.
So you didn’t wish to fight him either. It was one thing to suspect as such, but to hear it from your own mouth relieved him in a way he couldn’t explain. No doubt it also took a lot for you to admit that, to your own destined adversary.
But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t fight him. No, it was clear you would if you had to. The words were unspoken, but still there.
Despite this, you were still clearly nervous, your heartbeat pounding hard enough for him to hear in the quiet room.
“I’ll be honest. I… may be a fool for admitting this, but…” you began, your eyes flickering between your whip, which sat next to you on the bed, and Dracula himself.
“...I probably wouldn’t even win. What’s the point, anyway?”
That was indeed surprising to hear from your lips. The way you practically sagged as you admitted such a thing, showing just how tired you really were.
Dracula could see it now. It wasn’t just exhaustion in your eyes from whatever happened to you at your home.
You were tired of life. You were tired of the burden you had on your shoulders. You didn’t have much to fight for, anymore.
Dracula felt those words of yours tear into his heart. They struck a chord with him in a way that was almost unsettling.
“If I fight you, then what? I ‘win’? There’s nothing in it for me. Sure, I save humanity, or whatever-” You say, making finger quotes as you shake your head, “-But then I just end up back home in my own hell hole, no doubt with injuries that can no longer be healed. Then I’d still be expected to keep hunting.”
It was strange, as if a dam had broken within you. Dracula had a feeling this was something that had been building for years. No doubt from when you were a child, thoughts like those had been swimming in your head. Especially after you had lost a parent.
“Plus, what then, you rise again in a century? If even that? I know for a fact sometimes you have risen in half that time. What’s the point then? Just holding off until the next battle until someone else in my family stands up to fight you?”
Blinking quickly, you rubbed one of your eyes with your wrist, clearly trying to hold your emotions in check. The conversation clearly weighed heavy on you when you were already dealing with enough as it is.
He’d admit though, it was surprising to hear this from you.
Some Belmonts seemingly had been eager to seal him away. Either for glory, or the sake of mankind, thinking it a triumphant thing to succeed.
Here, you simply showed the opposite. How cruel fate really was, how winning against him was nothing more than a temporary, hollow victory in the grand scheme of things.
And how those words of yours echoed deep within his own mind. How many times had he been forced to answer the call of humans and other forces since he was killed that first time after Lisa’s death?
Those first few times, he had been vengeful. But after he had fought with his own son one on one, it had become increasingly clear how hollow his life had become.
How far he had sunk since he even lost his own dear Elisabetha.
How he encouraged this lonely life as a vampire after losing his first wife, then grew to detest the cursed cycle he had been put in after his second wife was murdered.
Fated to be the monster talked about in folk tales to keep children from misbehaving, only to reappear due to the whims of Chaos and Order. Cursed to be revived, when after all these centuries, he had finally wanted to rest.
He was tired too.
At least he was living in the hole he had dug for himself. He had no one to blame other than his own self and actions.
But there was a strange pang of sympathy for you in his chest. His actions were his own doing, but you? Your family was doomed because of both him, and your ancestor who created his whole clan just to slay him and his kind.
You were born to slay him, for better or for worse. Raised to kill him, and if he didn’t appear, raise a child in your family to kill him in your stead.
Did you even get to live a life of your own? Dracula doubted you could, unless you completely cut all ties, probably having to go as far as to change your own name.
After all, any Belmont was free game, regardless if they hunted or not. If there was a chance someone was related to a hunter, let alone a Belmont, beasts and monsters would hunt them for sport.
He would say at least you had your own family to support you. In the past, that seemed to be the case.
However… If your own family treated you like the dirt they walked on…
No wonder you were tired.
The room was silent for a moment, the tension having morphed from something tense and anxious, to somber and dreary.
“May I ask you a question?”
Dracula was almost startled by your voice, and how soft it had gotten. You were now looking out the window, watching as rain had begun to fall. A rolling thunder was heard off in the distance.
He wondered if that was due to the castle, or from him from the dull ache in his chest.
“You may.”
Dracula was also surprised by how his own voice had softened. He prepared himself to act like The King of the Night, yet here he was, already unable to stay cold and curt with you.
How his icy demeanor had already cracked seeing you so… broken.
It was silent for another moment as you gathered your thoughts.
“Why bother at this point? Is not coming back again and again exhausting? Why keep planning to attack humanity?”
At first, the questions seemed piercing and aggravating, until you finally looked back over at him. Those tired eyes of yours meeting his own.
“No one ever really told me. I have an idea, but… Most of what I know I learned from old journals. I highly doubt things written by a victor are always 100% accurate.”
That familiar, proud warmth stirred in his chest amongst the painful feelings that swirled from old memories.
But this… this is what he had wanted. When was the last time he got to explain his side?
…Though to be fair, he knew he would be seen as wrong, regardless of what he told you. However, it was still nice to at least have a chance to explain, without immediately being called a heartless monster first.
You at least were curious. You wanted to know for yourself, rather than just believe the words of your ancestors without thought.
Truly a marvel for most humans, even now.
Dracula looked over you, and how your eyes still watched him with a wary, curious gleam.
He sighed.
“Several centuries ago, my wife, Lisa, was murdered by humans.” Dracula began, letting himself relax slightly as he began to speak. You, meanwhile, sat up a bit further, clearly interested in what he had to say for himself.
“She insisted I go travel, and that she would be fine in the small home we had built away from the castle. Lisa wished to stay, having pursued the career of a doctor. Taught her everything I know.”
A small smile flickered on his face as he recounted his time with his late wife, though that smile quickly fell back to a frown.
Your eyes seemed to sharpen slightly, and it was as if he could see you calculating in real time what must have happened. No doubt you were already making educated guesses.
“Unfortunately, many didn’t take kindly to her healing others. Even a few of those she treated reported her to the church.”
Eyes widening slightly, a look of sorrow and horror briefly passed over your face. Had he not been paying attention, it would have been easy to miss.
No doubt you had an idea before, but his words were painting a horrific story, even if he hadn’t even said what had happened specifically just yet.
“For a year, she was fine. We occasionally wrote letters to the other, and she would tell me about her different patients. Sometimes how fulfilling it was to be a doctor, something she had dedicated her life to. Other times… She’d mention how her patients weren’t as kind or cooperative.”
Dracula held back a sneer at the reminder. He really should have noticed the signs so much sooner. How he could have avoided her horrible fate if he had just relied on his gut…
“They would groan or complain that she was treating them. How it wasn’t normal for a woman to do man’s work. They would sometimes curse her out or grow aggressive even. Some accepting her treatment while saying vile things about her. Although… My son at the time usually was around to help if things were too violent.”
Recognition flashed in your eyes. Of course you would recognize his son, to some degree, if you didn’t already know him.
There was doubt in his mind however, that you knew his son. Dracula at least liked to think his and Lisa’s son would have stepped in by now to help you if he had an idea of whatever was happening behind closed doors.
Especially given how his son had been insistent on helping the Belmonts throughout the centuries, even if it wasn’t always by choice since it regarded slaying him.
Details.
Though that did make Dracula briefly wonder just where his son was. Had he gone back to resting? Or had he stirred now that he himself was awake and free?
Dracula was no fool. Alucard had a connection to this castle just like he did, even if it wasn’t on the same scale. His son’s powers being from his own would always have a connection to this place, so long as Dracula remained alive.
Those thoughts were pushed back into his mind. He could dwell on such thoughts and speculations later. If he was still alive and this went well, of course.
Clearing his throat, Dracula continued.
“It was nearly the time I was to return home, when it happened. The church and heads of the nearby town seemed to have had ‘enough’ of my wife ‘playing’ healer, despite the fact she had most likely treated someone they knew, if not themselves.”
Anger and irritation began to simmer a bit brighter in his chest as he thought of how his wife had been treated. How alone and scared she must have been that day.
“They came. They saw the instruments we both used for medicinal purposes. Something I believe you would find rather modern, or even old by today’s standards, but at the time…”
You looked up at him then, realization in your eyes.
“They accused her of witchcraft, didn’t they?”
It was more of a statement, then a question.
Dracula could only give you a small nod.
“She was.”
You had a pained look on your face, clearly upset.
“I’m… not surprised.” you began, a bit hesitant.
“Humans fear things they don’t understand. Or things they can’t control. I imagine being a woman, and a doctor who no doubt had a great success rate at that… Add the more modern medicine practices…” you mumbled, eyes looking down to the side as you thought out loud.
Dracula was at least somewhat pleased you were beginning to see the gravity the situation had been. He had no idea what your knowledge of his wife had been, but this no doubt was an eye opener. That is, if you were choosing to believe him.
Given how you were reacting though… he’d like to hope you were. At least you weren’t screaming obscenities at him and calling him a liar and a heathen like some of your ancestors might have.
“Indeed. It… was brutal.”
Your eyes were now back on him, and he mentally cursed as his voice nearly wavered. He wanted to grow angry once more, and yet, a part of him wanted to simply mourn.
When did he last ever get the chance?
“When I arrived at the small home we had shared, all that was left was cinders. She had been taken captive, and I had been informed… She was to be burned at the stake.”
The air was colder, and your body tensed as a growl slowly crept into his voice.
“By the time I had found where they were keeping her…” he began, his voice low, growing strained, “...They burned her, claiming she was a witch. That this was God’s will.”
He could feel his fangs grow just ever so slightly, as well as his claws. Dracula could practically remember the smell of those ashes of that home.
“It was a lie, of course. All of it. They simply wanted her dead, and used all of that as flimsy excuses to placate the town.” he snarled, leaning forward slightly.
Despite the anger clear on his face, you remained steady. You didn’t flinch away like he thought you might, though your eyes were still wide with horror all the same.
Though… he had the feeling it wasn’t horror from seeing him like this. You weren’t scared of the beast threatening to break free from his flesh.
“By the time I located her, she was already burning. Her soul was already beginning to fade. She was gone.”
Dracula leaned back into the chair, his heart heavy in his chest.
A moment passed, and then another once more. The only thing either of you could hear was the storm that had begun to persist around the castle. How the rain harshly hit the window against the wall, and the wind wailed.
“Not one human stood up. No one looked at what was happening, and said no. All they did was watch.”
Your eyes flickered to the arm of the chair Dracula was sitting in, how it splintered under the pressure of his claws.
Yet… you still didn’t look afraid.
“I then warned them. I gave them a year to apologize and admit they were wrong. A year to pack up and leave. No one did. Not one.”
It was quiet for a moment, and Dracula took a deep breath. In an instant, the air was no longer as heavy as it had been a moment before, though a deep chill still ran throughout the air.
A part of him wanted to feel a bit bad. The moment the air lessened, you slumped again. You were still wounded, and weren’t able to hold yourself together like you no doubt would have if you were healthy. He would have to be mindful how much of a powerful presence he had.
Thrumming his claws against the partially destroyed arm of the chair, Dracula looked over you briefly before continuing.
“In my grief and anger, I declared a year from that day, I would rain hell on those who killed her. I would raze humanity to the ground.”
Your eyes met his.
“And then you did. Or tried to.” you spoke, your voice surprisingly steady.
His eyes never left your own.
“Indeed. I did.”
You swallowed thickly, your hands gripping the sheets under you nervously.
Different ways over how you would respond flashed through his mind again, much like they had earlier these past few days. However, what you said next surprised him.
“I… I don’t blame you, if I am being honest.”
Sure, Dracula thought of the possibility of you saying something along those lines, but he didn’t think you’d actually say it.
Even if you were different from some of your ancestors, he still expected you to go along and claim he was still an evil bastard, that killing those people was still horrible.
Though, that thought isn’t wrong. He knew what he was doing all those centuries ago, and knew what he was doing each time he had been revived and set out to attack. How evil those actions were.
Yet here you were, so quietly admitting you didn’t blame him.
“I’ll be honest… If it were my partner, or someone close to me… I can’t say I wouldn’t have wanted revenge.” You began, head tilting slightly towards him.
“Though uh… I don’t think I would have tried to kill all of humanity, but… Well… I don’t know your situation in full, but I do know grief is a powerful motivator for a lot of things…”
Dracula wasn’t sure what overcame him, but he found himself standing up out of the chair and leaning forward. His arms caged you in as he rested his hands on either side of you on the bed, while he loomed over you.
“You, Little Belmont, would commit murder? To avenge someone close to you, despite what your ancestors have stood for?” he asked, curiosity truly burning in his chest.
You didn’t shrink back, instead met his gaze head on, even as he caged you in. Even as he heard your heart pick up, and your breath hitch, you didn’t back down from his question.
“I’m not saying I would have tried to destroy all of humanity… or even that entire town. But I would hunt down every single person involved. They would know I was coming, one by one.”
Your eyes spoke promise, as if this was something you had thought of plenty of times before. The certainty in them was surprising.
“I’m not my ancestors. I protect humanity, sure, but don’t assume I'm just like them.”
He stood over you for a moment, his face so incredibly close to your own as he stood above you as he took in your words. Your pulse was loud enough to ring in his own ears, and your body was stiff as stone, as if awaiting him to call you a liar.
Then, he laughed.
It was more of a chuckle really, though seeing your bewildered face as he pulled back away from you nearly had made him want to laugh harder.
Leaning back and sitting into the chair once again, Dracula ran a hand against his face and into his hair.
“Forgive me- Forgive me…” He began, his lips twitching into a smile. “I just never thought I’d see the day where a Belmont would admit something such as that. Though…”
Dracula adjusted his posture to a much more relaxed one, most of the tension that had been in the air washing away in an instant.
“You are correct. You are far from what some of your ancestors have been.”
You definitely had Leon’s fire. It was hard to say if Leon would have committed murder against humans if the past had been slightly different… But you had that gleam in your eye that his old friend once had. A fierce look that was different, yet just as vicious as Belmonts before you.
With such a revelation, Dracula could feel the heavy feeling in his heart lessen, but that didn’t mean you both were in the clear, even if you understood each other just a bit better.
Even if you were sympathetic to him, that didn’t change the fact he very much attempted to kill many people. Multiple times, sometimes against his will. He very much has caused harm again and again.
Still, you looked at him with such a complex look on your face. No doubt conflicted yourself with everything you had learned today, especially if you were going to go ahead and plan to fight him anyway.
“So, Little Belmont.”
His voice had you looking back up at him.
“Now that you’ve heard it from my lips, why I detested humanity for so long, what do you plan to do now?” he asked.
Dracula wouldn’t lie. He was genuinely curious what your response would be. Anxiety began to creep up his throat once again, however.
…Maybe you would say something that would once again surprise him.
It was silent for a few moments, as you looked deep in thought, before looking back up at him.
“Well… Do you intend to keep trying to kill every human? Seems kinda… counter productive to do so now. Especially when things have changed so much in the centuries that have passed.”
Though you gave a slight wince.
“Granted, I don’t expect you to like anyone. But at this point, what do you gain? Are you… Not tired of fighting and dying and being revived?”
Once again, he could sense a genuine curiosity in your questions.
What did he gain, at this point?
Killing every human would be suicide for vampires everywhere. It would do more than just destroy vampires, but ecosystems as well.
As much as Vlad hated to admit it, humans were a necessary factor when it came to the earth.
But why should he care?
The moment that thought crossed his mind, his eyes landed back on you. How you fidgeted a bit on the bed, though seemed far less anxious than before. Your instincts didn’t seem as on edge as they had been when he first initiated this conversation.
Granted, he hadn’t been as… enthusiastic about world domination in centuries, if he were being honest with himself. His last run in with his son definitely left a mark, how his son grimly told him what Lisa’s last words had been.
But even though he often wished to stay dead, many would find ways to bring him back, and it was as if a cord was attached to his back, tugging him like a string. A force urging him to kill once again.
He’d barely be awake even a few hours, before he was set to be killed again.
Dracula would admit, he was definitely tired.
This wasn’t exactly what he expected his life to become after he chose to forsake his own humanity to spite God. Though he supposes that’s what he gets for doing so in the first place.
Who knew immortality would be full of boredom, tragedy, and bone deep tiredness?
Still, without it, he wouldn’t have experienced the brief bouts of love and joy that he wouldn’t trade for the world.
His eyes stayed on you as those thoughts swirled in his mind.
Despite everything that has happened to him, he found it hard to regret meeting you, at least so far.
For a moment, his eyes gazed to the side, different thoughts conflicting in his mind, but…
He didn’t wish to fight you, either.
Fingers thrumming against the arm of the chair, Dracula leaned his face against his hand.
“I suppose that is a fair point. Nearly every human that has personally spite me is dead. It gets tiring being woken up, and then killed for attempting vengeance when those who personally wronged me are gone.”
Your lips twitched upwards slightly at his ‘admission’, before giving him a look.
“But tell me, Little Belmont…”
He leaned in close again from his spot in the chair, looking at you almost amused.
“What should I do instead, hm?”
You blinked, and your face briefly flushed from the proximity.
“Um… Well, what did you do before declaring humans as your enemy? Uh, I’m no historian, but didn’t you just kinda do your own thing, only killing people that came to bother you or hurt you? Like how the church likes to refer to you as Vlad the Impaler to hide that you are a real vampire that exists?”
Dracula stared at you for a moment.
“They what.”
Hands flew up, and you shook them a bit in front of you as Dracula leaned back.
“Uh- don’t worry, I can tell you that later, but in all seriousness-”
Arching a brow, Dracula briefly wondered just what the church and human historians have been saying about him all these centuries if they were attempting to hide his existence. Despite being freed for a few days, he still had much to catch up on.
Regardless, he gave what you said some thought.
“That is true. I… did mostly keep to myself. I had no desire to join or hide amongst humans. Though I had little pity for those who sought me out to destroy me and met a… bloody end.”
At his words you blinked, before nodding to yourself as if you agreed. However, your eyes widened ever so slightly, and you were looking at him with that familiar spark in your eye he had seen come and go.
“Um… Why not do that again? Actually, how about a compromise?”
Now he was interested. What kind of compromise would a Belmont come up with? You were different from many of the others, sure, but he couldn’t help but be curious.
“Well…” You began, clearing your throat, “Unless any innocent humans are harmed, I have no desire to or need to hunt you, or anyone in the castle, really. What would be the point? I know from personal experience not everyone of the paranormal nature are ‘evil’, after all.”
Your hands were fidgeting in your lap, and you were having a hard time sitting still.
“Uh… that is to say I won’t hunt anyone that hurts any innocent folk. But at that point, that was their own choice, right? Unless you ordered it, I can deal with them personally. No need to go to war if you aren’t attacking anyone. And…”
It was clear you were growing more and more flustered as you tried to explain yourself and your reasoning. It wasn’t for the fact he had to take this seriously, he would have found it cute.
“And I- um- I can try to keep people away? I own a part of the property nearby and can have the road closed off. Of course, I can’t stop trespassers if I am not here, but I have plenty of traps set around the property… close to my cabin, really. I can try and keep people away…”
You were mumbling more in thought now as you tried to come up with ideas.
“...And I know a few blood banks for vampires, and a few other paranormal people who require blood to live. I know a witch that owns one, too. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to bits to help.”
All were interesting ideas, if you felt you both could really pull it off. However, he still had one question.
While you were rambling, he gently reached forward, clawed fingers tenderly grabbing your chin to have you look at him. You stopped talking and froze, eyes wide.
“All very good ideas, Little Belmont, but please answer me this,” He began, watching as your eyes comically flickered between his hand and face, “What about your family legacy? It was founded on the very idea of killing me.”
You swallowed thickly as he spoke, eyes trained on him.
“You asked why it mattered. Are you really willing to throw away the one thing your clan was founded for? For peace? For both humans and monsters? Are you willing to toss aside the very reason your ancestors became hunters in the first place?”
You stared at him in silence for a moment, swallowing thickly once more. After a few moments, you moved your head out of his grip, a sudden annoyed look in your eyes.
“I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I’m not my ancestors.” you began, a sharp look on your face.
“I didn’t ask to be born a hunter. To be born a Belmont. I’ll protect humanity, sure, but why do I have to limit myself and people’s lives based on what my ancestors decided what- 500 years ago? Why should every rule my ancestors made define my life in its entirety?”
It was as if your nerves had dissipated, and you crossed your arms in annoyance. Dracula wondered if this also was something you have thought about for years.
It made sense, he supposed. If your personal life was as much of a mess as he suspected, then what did you have to show for being a Belmont besides pain and strife?
His lips twitched upwards slightly into a small grin. You just keep finding ways to surprise him.
“Fair enough. It’s admirable to forge your own path rather than be held down by your ancestors.”
Dracula then tilted his head, that smile never quite leaving his face.
“So, Little Belmont. Let’s say I do agree to your ideas. I won’t destroy humanity, and you won’t hunt myself, and the residents of my castle. You’ll help keep humans away, and help anyone here who needs a meal. What will you do then?”
The annoyed look on your face fell, and you thought for a moment.
“Um… I could show you a bunch of modern stuff? No offense, I know you are a genius and all, but uh… I doubt you know all the ways civilization has changed since you were last around for more than a day.” you said with a wince, though you perked up almost instantly.
“Oh! I could get you a cell phone! Oh, I bet you would like some of the online libraries as well-”
He would admit, he had no idea what a cellphone was, but he was intrigued by the idea of a library.
But he was more interested in the very idea of you not only not slaying him, but you coming back to visit.
Yes, the idea of you wanting to come back was very pleasing to him, indeed.
It was at the cost of playing nice, but was that such a hard thing to achieve?
If it had been several decades ago, he doubted he would have been so… willing. He has had plenty of time to cool off, being imprisoned in stone. That urge to kill never truly left…
But that urge to devour humanity whole… that was dwindling. He’d argue that it had been dwindling for a while now.
He may be King of the Night, but this song and dance was growing tiresome.
That, and your ideas had merit. He could work with them, within reason.
“Alright Little Belmont.” he began, and you paused in the middle of your muttering.
“I’ll make a deal with you.”
You sat up straight again, eyes at attention, and he could practically hear your heart pick up in anticipation.
“For starters, I won’t attack humanity, not as a whole. However, I won’t show mercy to anyone who personally slights me. That, and any human foolhardy enough to come to my castle in an attempt to destroy me shall be dealt with accordingly.”
After you gave him a brisk nod, he continued.
“You, on the other hand, shall not lay a hand on anyone in this castle, unless they attack first. Am I clear?” He spoke, his voice becoming firm. You tilted your head, and he decided to elaborate before you agreed.
“Everyone in my castle is under my protection. They are here either as a direct connection to me as my servants, are here for sanctuary, or are here for political endeavors. They are not to be harmed unless they attack you first, or attack humans on their own accord.”
He could only imagine the shit show that would follow if you killed one of the political guests for another coven. A part of him actually considered letting you loose on them, now that he thought about it, especially with those nasty guests that like to undermine him for dying to Belmonts…
That could be a thought for another day.
A look of understanding crossed your face, and you gave him another nod.
“That’s reasonable.”
It was more or less your idea, after all, but he was glad you were willing to agree to what he added on to it.
“Next, you said you own the property nearby, and could help keep other pesky humans away. I’ll hold you to that, because I may not attempt to kill humans for existing, but I do not wish to be bothered.”
Though he’d admit, he wondered if you would be willing to show him the land you own. Vlad was curious how a little cabin you owned.
What would it look like? Did you keep it clean? Messy? Was it large? Small?
Questions he could ask later, should he see you again and you agree to these terms.
You blinked, before nodding at him slowly.
“I mean… I’ll try and do what I can. Of course, If the government or church discovers you, they may try to override me, or send someone to attack from a different position. I can’t stop that, but… I will do what I can. If I can’t, and you haven’t done anything besides exist…”
Your eyes flickered to a nearby mirror, before looking back at him.
“Well, like you said, they’ll be dealt with. I can try to persuade but… well at that point, if they won’t hear me out… I can’t stop anything you do to someone trespassing.”
That was a fair compromise, he supposed. He had little idea how the human government worked in this day and age, let alone how entangled hunters were with them. Should anyone be foolish enough to challenge him, then he’ll make sure to deal with it.
But if you were at least willing to help him out, even a little, in regards to keeping humans away. Even if you most likely weren’t a fan of the idea of him exterminating any human that foolishly sauntered into his domain.
“Agreed. Now, another thing…”
Dracula tilted his head as he looked at you.
“I’d like to see you again after this, Little Belmont.”
Your eyes widened a degree, and your face grew slightly flushed from surprise.
“What-”
“What I mean is, you intrigue me. You fascinate me in ways I had long since forgotten, and I’d like to hope this simple compromise will simply be the beginning of a… commendable relationship.”
He felt his lips curl upward again at the look on your face. Clearly you weren’t expecting him to be so forward in asking to see you once more.
“Are… Are you sure? I uh, no offense, didn’t think you’d want a Belmont around after I leave… Or your castle’s inhabitants, since I know how some of them feel with me recovering here…”
Oh, how you had no idea how much he wanted to see you again. Vlad knew his time with you now was short, and his old heart was beginning to pound in his chest at the possibility of this little meeting actually working out.
He had to see you again. One way or another.
“I am sure. You will soon find that I don’t say things I don’t mean without reason, especially in company I like.”
He wished he had a camera, it was clear you weren’t quite used to subtle compliments. Or perhaps there was more to it?
Dracula could think more on that later.
Gently, he held out a hand to shake.
“What do you say, Little Belmont? Are these terms agreeable?”
Eyes flickering between him and his hand, you held out a hand, before hesitating.
“Okay… On one condition.” Dracula raised an eyebrow, but was curious nonetheless.
“Name it.”
After a reluctant pause, you spoke up.
“It can’t be this easy.” You began, though quickly continued when you saw his face fall.
“When I say that, I’m not referring to you. I mean our circumstances. I worry something might come up that would be… disruptive to this ‘peace’. I propose that we at least try to talk about something before acting rashly if one of us feels slighted, or if the other may have broken the agreement without realizing it.”
Dracula had to give you credit, even while injured and under what must be an absurd amount of stress, you were managing to think ahead. Something a hunter no doubt had to be good at while on a hunt, so why wouldn’t it show in other areas as well?
Plus… It pleased him you were still being careful, critically aware of your situation instead of blindingly agreeing. You were no fool.
No doubt your mind was whirring with possibilities, ways he, or someone in his castle could try and trap you by these agreements. Those thoughts weren’t unfounded, at least involving his subjects.
He had no doubts there would be chaos when you started coming around for visits.
Even if he himself wouldn’t dare try and trap you by your own rules to invoke a battle, it still impressed him that you were cautious. There were too many conniving fools when it came to such politics, even now as he settled back in as King.
Vlad smiled.
“Very well, that is agreeable. Anything else?”
You were still hesitant, but after a moment, you reached forward, your smaller hand meeting his own.
“No, that will be all for now.”
With your warm hand clasped with his own, Dracula felt his body finally relax, and his gaze on you softened.
For now, things might finally start going his way.
Even if that meant his desires had morphed into something different than pure destruction. All he wanted was to learn more of you.
#castlevania#dracula#vlad dracula tepes#castlevania x reader#dracula x reader#x reader#reader insert#gn reader#Belmont!reader#long post#cw death mention#cw depressive thoughts#zed.writes#love that bites#ltb#fanfic
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We've just spent 3 days on the ZAD filming a documentary and I'm really excited. If you don't know, the ZAD is a French term that means Zone a Defence and means somewhere squatted or occupied to resist the state. In particular we were on the Notre Dame des Landes ZAD, a massive area of biodiverse wetland that was squatted by farmers, ecologists, anarchists and communists for over a decade to stop the French state building a new airport near Nantes. Eventually the state gave up and the squatters won, and now they live there outside of modern capitalism taking care each other in a manner that it wouldn't be unreasonable to call real, actual communism that's happening inside the imperial core right now
We stayed at pa Rolandiere, one of many little communes within the ZAD, and home to Jay and Isa, authors of We Are Nature Defending Itself. Like many of the places we saw, there is a central common living area and lots of little cabins and caravans around for sleeping in, but la Rolandiere also has a couple of pretty unique things. They have a lighthouse, and a visitors welcome centre. Jay told me this is because they see conviviality as a certain kind of revolutionary practice. The state paints the people on the ZAD as terrifying violent criminals, so having a welcome centre for visitors to come and learn about the ZAD is a kind of direct resistance to that.
I learned a hell of a lot being there. I talked to farmers, artists, squatters, a medic, a botanist and of course, lots of communists. I also walked miles through forests and fields and got to forage some interesting mushrooms which was very special for me. I'm looking forward to seeing the documentary develop into a real thing, but sitting on the train back from Nantes to Paris right now I'm reflecting on it all and I really feel like I'm coming down off an incredible high. This morning I was weeding a row of carrots!
I keep thinking about our interview with the botanist Jasmine, who told us that on the ZAD it's really hard to be lonely, because even if you aren't around human beings, you feel the presence of all the plants and animals in a way that you don't do anywhere else, and I really think it's true. I'm going yo be thinking about the ZAD for a long, long time. I may not have been a part of their struggle but I hope that my documentary can be. We are not defending nature, we are nature defending itself 🌺🍄🦎
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