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pocket-void · 4 years ago

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Table for Two

A/N: Hi! This the first fanfic I’ve written for literally anything! (I’m an on and off writer in general tho) I’m hoping to write a collection of unconnected short stories currently called Smaller Sides to Life, that focuses on small/short moments in time during specific events. I’d be so grateful for any comment or feedback, but honestly I just hope you enjoy it first and foremost! >///<

Pairing: Logicality Words: 2468 Content: Human AU? A lot of descriptions of anxious waiting, so I guess it’s got a lil angst. Happy ending! (Please tell me if I need to mention anything I am very unfamiliar with how this works ;///;) Summary: Logan grows ever more anxious as he waits for his date, who, at this point, he isn’t even sure is coming.

If you wanna read my google doc for this instead you’re free to. (I like Cambria font u///u) I have an Ao3 but I am currently not using it.

Logan was alone, sitting comfortably at a table for two in the back of a halfway decent food establishment, silently watching as the ice cubes in his water shifted and tapped against the glass while they melted with each passing second. Well, “comfortably” was a lie, of course. There was absolutely nothing comforting about being in such a place on his own, with only the dim flickering candles on the table to keep him company. He didn’t really know what the worst part of the whole thing even was. Was it the ever encroaching chatter that surrounded him? The sickeningly sweet music that played in the background? The blank, unflinching cold stone wall in front of him? Or perhaps, it was the still empty seat that sat mockingly at the other side of the table.

Indeed, Logan was unhappy, uncomfortable, and alone.

The nervous tapping of his foot was practically synonymous with the pattering rain against the windows. The typically majestic city view now nothing more than an amorphous glob of glowing lights amidst the water droplets and fog. He couldn’t help but repeatedly switch between checking his watch and frantically clicking his pen, occasionally scribbling down a loose nonsensical thought or two onto his little notepad. The action barely made a difference in soothing his racing mind, but he had to do something to distract himself. He’d do practically anything to ease the agony that was continuously settling in his heart with each passing minute. The absolute dread hanging over him like an impending guillotine.

This was foolish. Logan sighed. Surely he was overreacting. There must’ve been a reason. He thought to himself, but it was no use. Not a single thing he told himself could possibly make the immensely slow sinking weight forming at the pit of his stomach go away. Not. A single. Thing. For someone who typically prided himself on being able to, and rather efficiently mind you, keep his calm in the most stressful of situations, this was quite distressing to say the least.

He’s simply running late. He reasons to himself. It happens. You know that. Well, of course he did. There were practically an infinite amount of possibilities that could’ve delayed the arrival of the person he was waiting for, and most of them were not inherently related to Logan’s personal character. That was the most logical conclusion, anyway. Did that thought comfort him any though? No.

It’s been an hour, Logan. You must be joking if you still think he’s coming. Another thought tore through his mind. Well, he may not have been joking, but he was well aware of how ridiculous it must’ve seemed. Just him, sitting alone at a table for two, growing ever more and more desperate by the second. To hold on to even a sliver of hope must’ve seemed utterly utterly foolish. Every pitying glance by the passing waiter refilling his cup only served to make him feel even more miserable. He wished desperately, in that moment, that he could just disappear; he hoped he could shrink down in size so small that he wouldn’t have to be seen anymore. He wanted to completely collapse in on himself and crumple up like the pathetic scraps of paper he’d been unconsciously tearing out of his notes. He wanted the world to just fade to black, and for him to simply drift away into an endless void, away from everything. Away from this. Maybe then he’d be free from the dreaded weight that sat heavily upon his shoulders. He didn’t think his heart could even beat this fast, but there it was, hammering in his chest like a hyperactive hummingbird.

He hated it.

He’s not coming, Logan. That thought instantly sank itself into the depths of his soul. He felt a lump begin to form in the back of his throat; it was almost nauseating. He’s not coming because he doesn’t want to see you. Another thought that dug itself into his mind. He felt his teeth harshly grind against each other as his jaws clenched, begging himself to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He didn’t even give you a call. The world suddenly seemed to freeze. A quiet realization sent an absolutely disparaging chill down his spine. You didn’t even get the courtesy of knowing you’ve been rejected. He let out a weak shaky breath before finally lowering his face into his hands, completely defeated. This was beyond pathetic, honestly. How unbecoming of him to be this way. He wasn’t coming. He already fully knew how illogical it was to remain in his seat. Yet, a part of himself still refused to let him throw what remained of that practically shattered hope away.

And so, the clock kept ticking still...

Logan wasn’t really sure how long it’s been at this point. Everything had begun to slowly meld together in his mind. Beyond the disappointment and despair was just the dull aching pain of rejection in his chest, not to mention the utterly dry and bitter taste in his mouth. He berated himself for being this pathetic about the whole thing, and a coward who couldn’t even muster up enough courage to stand up and go home. It was frustrating, because he knew better than this. It was both impractical and nonsensical to keep waiting. But he felt weak, and his two feet remained firmly stuck to the floor as if they were made of solid, immovable lead. The waiters have collectively decided to leave him alone at this point, which he had considered a small blessing. He didn’t want to bother pretending to smile or claim that everything was ok anymore; the energy was long depleted by now.

Logan let out yet another shaky breath, wrapping his arms around him and hugging himself tight, trying as he might to figuratively and literally “get a grip” on reality. What was he even waiting for? Why had he been so eagerly anticipating sitting at this table just a few hours before leaving work? What was the point? What was he doing? He still had tasks to do! There were still piles upon piles of work that had to be done at his desk but no, he was here. He was here, sitting alone, and doing nothing. Logan glanced down at his watch yet again, but its face was unreadable. His eyes blurry and unclear even as he rubbed the tears away, adjusted his glasses, and squinted. The only message it managed to send was just how much time he was wasting away by remaining where he currently was. Nobody was coming. His grip tightened, nails practically clawing at the sleeves of his suit. Never in his life had he felt so betrayed by something that originally had a perfect and fitting place within his schedule. What had he done wrong? Where did he make a mistake?

The gentle laughter and casual chattering of the surrounding atmosphere were like needles in his back as he felt himself curl inwards. The sweet and decidedly romantic music that served as the loving backdrop for what was to be a pleasant evening for patrons was now mocking and decadent. It sounded almost like a distant echo, far far away. Something that he was always in the vicinity of, but will never truly be able to enjoy; a happiness he cannot obtain. He was trapped. He was trapped here, in a dim corner of a restaurant, with a lukewarm cup of water, weakly flickering candles, a cold unflinching wall, the pitter patter of rain, the incessant (and mildly imaginary) ticking of his watch, crumpled up scraps of note paper, sickening chatter, unappealing music, a dry bitter taste in his mouth, an unnerving feeling of cold sweat, a dizzying headache, a fast racing heart, a barely registering breath, a lump in his throat, and clearly watering eyes.

All at a half empty table for two.

He hated it.

He ended up sitting there for so long that he felt drained, empty. His eyes now only slightly stung when opened, but he kept them closed while he leaned against one arm against the table. By now he had, at the very least, managed to catch his breath. He felt so tired. Logan took a deep breath and glanced down at his watch yet again. It had only honestly been an hour and a half, not that much time at all in the grand scheme of things. And yet here he was, feeling like he had been stationary for several years. Perhaps it was finally time to go. He shifted his aching body to finally attempt to escape from this prison, but a hurried rush of footsteps instantly made him freeze up yet again.

It couldn’t be.

But it was.

“Oh my goodness god, you’re still here!”

Logan jolted at the sound of the sweet, silvery voice that rang out, very obviously filled with concern. He turned towards the person who hastily ran up to him, the cold hands cupped around his face immediately snapping him awake from his previous haze.

“I can’t believe you waited for me for this long!! Have you been here the whole time?? I’m- Oh my god I’m so so sorry Logan I-”

He honestly couldn’t even process what he was seeing, much less feeling. A man stood in front of him now, frantically gesturing and apologizing, and absolutely soaked to the core. Logan could very much feel the gazes of dozens of patrons on them now, but it didn’t matter. All he could do was stare with wide eyes at his date, whose suit was completely muddied and shoes absolutely ruined by the rain. He blinked a few times as he tried to understand what the man was even saying as he kept pausing and stuttering while constantly sweeping his matted and wet light brown hair out of his eyes. Seeing him there, standing in front of him, was enough to make Logan feel his heart slowly begin to beat once again.

“God, Logan, I know you must be mad at me, I’m- How could I possibly ever make this up to you? Oh god, oh dear, I can’t believe I did this to you! I’m just so sor-”

“Patton…” Logan finally managed, taking one of Patton’s cold hands into his and finally stopping his rambling. He took a silent moment to just quietly immerse himself into the other’s sparkling and visibly apologetic blue eyes. A beautiful and comforting sight for his literally sore ones. He felt something start to bubble up inside of him, and it began to slowly rise in his chest. A warm, fluttering feeling that rose, higher and higher, until a soft laugh finally slips from his lips. Patton’s expression instantly lightens at the sound, and Logan could feel the once soul crushing weight that surrounded him finally melt away. He gives Patton’s hand a light squeeze, an absolutely relieved smile now upon his face. “Patton. It’s ok.”

There wasn’t a single moment’s hesitation when Patton sprang forwards to wrap Logan in the tightest hug he could possibly manage. Despite the water that slowly seeped into Logan’s own clothes, and the hug being admittedly cold on account of Patton being completely drenched, he had never felt his heart swell with so much warmth in his entire life. They stayed locked in each other's embrace until Patton remembered his current condition and quickly backed off with yet another series of apologetic bows.

“Dear lord, now look what I’ve done. I went ahead and ruined your clothes too!” He giggled, trying his best to wipe away the water with a napkin to barely any success.

Logan just couldn’t help but smile at the clumsy yet adorable gesture. “Don’t worry about it. It’s clearly not as bad as whatever happened to you.” He pointed out. “Say, whatever did happen to you anyways? You weren’t answering any of my calls and I...I thought you weren’t going to…” He paused for a moment before opting to take a long sip out of his cup instead before shrugging. “You know.” He murmured, his body unintentionally stiffening at the insinuation.

Patton looked crushed at the thought, which he was unfortunately terribly aware of. He embarrassingly rubbed at the back of his neck and lowered his head. “I-I know, and I really am so sorry Logan. I...I didn’t expect you to still be here either. And I couldn’t even tell you! Oh geez… After making you wait so long, you probably honestly should have just-”

“It’s ok, Patton.” Logan reassured with a nod, voice barely a whisper. He gently lifted one of Patton’s hands and brushed his lips against the man’s knuckles. “What’s important is that you’re here. That’s enough.” He felt a small bit of pride as he watched Patton’s face flush at the unexpected gesture.

The man quickly took the hand back with a laugh before settling down in the seat across from Logan. At last, filling the space that completed the whole picture.

“Still, the fact that I made you wait that long is terribly unreasonable. So just please let me-”

Logan chuckled, gesturing towards a leaf that was still stuck in his date’s hair, to which the other quickly pulled out with a flustered huff.

“Logan, I’m trying to apologize here!”

“You already have.” He stated, quickly dismissing the concern with a smile. The other clearly had no defense against him doing that, to which Logan was fully aware of. The smile then curled into a satisfied smirk upon his silence. “So, are you going to tell me?”

Patton blinked in response. “O-Oh! Right! You aren’t going to believe this, but-”

And as Patton energetically attempted to recall his unfortunate run-in with the storm while trying to rescue a cat from a tree, forgetting he’s allergic to them, slipping up and falling out of said tree, missing the bus, and losing his phone in the entire process, Logan simply sat comfortably across from him, fully content to listen to his story. It was ridiculous, it was nonsensical, and it was of course, entirely hilarious, but he enjoyed every word that came out of the mouth of the sweet and adorable man that now accompanied him. Patton’s rain stained glasses, half dried and now puffing up hair, and his freckled smile, completely lit up the once dim and lifeless corner of the restaurant they sat in. Nothing could have detracted from that moment in time. Not the rain, not the stares, and certainly not how the time just seemed to fly by, even during the comfortable silence that sat between them while they both enjoyed their meals. Logan wouldn’t have missed any of it for the world.

Here at this table for two.

#I did it!#I'm lowkey much more nervous about posting writing than I am posting art #But this was nice to write so I'm glad I finished it #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #mock writes #logan sanders #ts logan #patton sanders #ts patton #logicality #Smaller Sides to Life

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fairylightsandchai · 5 years ago

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The Internship - Part 2

A/N: Hello, again! Just popping in again to say that I know I don’t usually post fanfic here, but I really wanted to take part in @darkficsyouneveraskedfor‘s Pre-Code Challenge! Just ignore this if you don’t follow me for fanfiction. :) Also, I’ll be adding tags in a reblog.

Read Part One Here!

As a side note, I’ve made a new blog since writing this dedicated to fanfic. If you wanna check it out, click here!

Pairings: Dark!Professor!Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: >10K

Summary: You are a student in the former-Captain America’s American History class, and you soon notice that Professor Rogers has been paying more than a professional amount of attention to you. But when he approaches you with an internship opportunity that’s too good to be true, how can you say no?

(A/N: This fic contains non-con elements, stalking, and manipulation, and this part will inclue rape, breeding kink, and kidnapping. It is also inspired by The Wild Party, a film from 1929. I hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think.)

You let out a curse as your hand fumbled around inside of your purse; you professor would be there any second to pick you up, and your phone was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn that you’d set it down on your nightstand to charge, but it hadn’t been there that morning, and after spending the better part of an hour looking for it, you were beginning to give up hope.

A knock sounded at your door and you swore again, finally setting your purse down next to your packed suitcase and hurrying to answer it. On its other side stood Steve, a smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He was dressed much more casually than you’d ever seen him before, wearing a pair of dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a brown leather jacket.

Staring between him and the bundle of daisies, you blinked once, twice before finally finding your voice again.

“Steve! I… Are those for me?” you asked, and he let out a soft laugh.

“Nah, they’re for the other girl who lives here,” he joked.

“I’m sure she’s very grateful,” you managed, taking the bouquet from him and giving it a sniff. “What’s the occasion?”

“Well,” he began, following you into your apartment as you went to locate a vase, “I know that you had your reservations about joining me, and I wanted to get you a little something for agreeing to the internship.”

“Oh.” You finally found an old pitcher that you’d never before used and started filling it with water, watching Steve out of the corner of your eye. He seemed right at home, browsing your book collection with his hands in his pockets as he skimmed the titles. “Well thank you! They’re beautiful.”

After setting the daisies into the water, you turned to face your professor.

“So… Are you ready to head out?” you asked, and he quickly turned his attention back to you.

“Sure am.”

Before you could protest, he walked over to your suitcase and picked it up, not even batting an eye at how heavy it was. You scurried over to pick your purse up and follow him out of your apartment.

“I might need to stop at a Best Buy on the way,” you told him as you locked the door. “I can’t seem to find my phone…”

“You can’t go without it for a week?”

“I mean… I can, but I would rather not have to,” you explained. “My mom might start to worry if I don’t keep in touch.”

“Well how about you use my phone? I would hate for your family to be concerned.”

You followed him to his car, surprised at how sleek and modern it looked; it had to be worth more than a couple years of your rent.

“Are you sure? It won’t be too much of a bother?” you asked, moving to open the passenger door. Steve’s hand shot out faster than yours, though, opening it for you with a smile.

“It would be no trouble at all, (Y/N),” he assured you.

With a quiet “thank you”, you slid into your seat, flinching when Steve closed the door behind you. As you sank into the dark leather beneath you, you wondered if it was too late to turn back. You couldn’t get that meeting in his office out of your head; the way his voice had hardened, the way his face had turned stormy when you hadn’t thanked him initially, it still sent shivers down your spine. Steve had spent years as America’s ‘golden boy’, but you couldn’t shake the suspicion that there could be a darker side of him just beneath the surface.

You jolted in your seat when you heard his door open, and you watched as he climbed into the driver’s side, his weight making the car shift as he settled in.

After flashing a small smile your way, he pressed a button and the car started, its engine purring quietly. You were both silent as you made your way to the interstate, your apartment fading into the distance in the rear-view mirror. It was only after the car was on the highway that Steve glanced your way again.

“You can put on the radio, if you’d like. We have a good hour of driving ahead of us, and that’s if traffic isn’t too crazy.”

You sighed; traffic in the city was always crazy.

You fiddled with the radio, eventually finding a station that you liked and turning it down to a low volume, just wanting some background noise.

“Hey, I actually know this song,” Steve smiled. “Doesn’t happen too often these days; most of the music I listen to is on the records I have at home.”

You smiled a little at that; some of the things he said really made him sound like a grandpa.

“I like the oldies, too,” you told him, head turning to look out your window. “Do you have a favorite band?”

Steve thought about it for a second, his thumbs tapping absentmindedly against the steering wheel.

“Well… You’ve probably never heard of them, but I really liked The Ink Spots back in the day. Oh, and Frank Sinatra is pretty hard to beat.”

“I happen to enjoy Sinatra myself,” you said. “I don’t know a lot of his music by name, but he has a really distinct voice.”

“That’s true,” Steve smiled. “…You know, you have a really distinct voice, too.”

Well, that came out of nowhere. You chuckled a little, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I…don’t think so,” you tried to dismiss him.

“No, I mean it,” he insisted. “I really like your speaking voice; I imagine you’re a nice singer, too.”

“You are… so wrong,” you informed him. “My singing voice sounds like a cat being boiled.”

He threw his head back, his shoulders shaking with the force of his laugh.

“And just how do you know what that sounds like?” he asked you, glancing away from the road to raise an eyebrow at you.

You just shrugged, your smile fading slowly as you looked down at your lap.

“Why do you do that?” you heard yourself saying.

“Do what?”

“Compliment me so much,” you clarified, not daring to look his way. “You always have something nice to say about me. Why?”

It took Steve a few moments to answer, evidently pondering over his words.

“Well,” he finally said, “I suppose I’m just used to saying what’s on my mind. Everything I’ve told you has been true, you know.”

You felt something in your chest flutter, and you chewed on your lip as you cranked the radio louder. It wasn’t necessarily the words he’d spoken just now that unsettled you; no, it was the way he’d said them: softly, earnestly, in a tone that you don’t just use with a student or a friend. You tried to push that thought away, tried to write it off as ridiculous; he was Captain America. Why and how would he ever develop feelings for someone like you?

The majority of the car ride passed in silence, and you watched the sun sink lower into the sky. He’d picked you up in the middle of the afternoon, and as the winter dragged on, the days were getting shorter and shorter. So when you finally made it into Brooklyn, the sky was awash in light pinks and oranges; the sun would be going down in about two hours.

“So, I was thinking,” Steve finally spoke up, setting his right hand on the gear shift, “that we could stop for an early dinner before heading to our hotel room. I know a great pizza place close by.”

His pinky was just barely resting against your thigh as he spoke, and even that tiny point of contact was enough to make you uncomfortable. You pressed your thighs together, putting some distance between your leg and his hand, and you thought that you saw his jaw clench at the motion.

“U-um,�� you finally spoke up, realizing he was still waiting for an answer, “yeah, that sounds good. I could go for some pizza.”

With a nod of his head, he turned his turn signal on, turning down the next road. In no time, he’d parked the car in a parking garage and led you out onto a street. When you reached a brick building with a sign that said Lucali on it, he held open the door for you, waving you in before him.

The smell of Italian food immediately washed over you, and you almost let out a moan as you deeply inhaled. A young, sweet-looking hostess walked to the two of you instantly, doing a double take when she saw the man you were with.

Grabbing a few menus, she, for her credit, quickly got over her moment of being star-struck.

“Good evening; table for two?”

“That’d be great,” Steve said, giving her one of his trademark smiles. “We would like one in the back, if any are available.”

“O-of course, Mr. Rogers,” she assured him, leading you both into a more secluded area. Jazz music was playing over the sound system, and as you sank into the booth you were led to, you noticed that every table had a small succulent on its surface.

“Can I get you guys started with something to drink?” the nice girl asked, and you were about to say that you’d just take water when Steve interrupted you.

“We’ll have a bottle of the house red blend,” he told her.

“Oh, no,” you tried to say, “I don’t really want any wine-“

The look Steve gave you stopped you dead in your tracks, and you were quickly taking back your words for a reason you couldn’t quite name.

“U-um, that is, could I have a water with that?” you corrected yourself. Steve smirked, never taking his eyes off of you as the hostess hurried away.

You squirmed in your chair, not daring to make eye contact with the man in front of you until he spoke your name softly.

“Um… Yes?”

“You know, I’d really like it if you were able to relax,” he said softly. “Sip some wine with me; try not to be so tense. Let yourself enjoy the evening.”

Before you could reply, the hostess was back with your drinks, and you immediately chugged half of the glass of wine she’d poured for you – you would welcome anything that could take the edge off, at this point.

“So,” Steve said, not touching his own glass, “I have a whole itinerary planned out for tomorrow. I thought we could start out by going to the building I grew up in; I was sure that they’d have tore it down by now, but apparently it’s still an apartment complex.”

“We could even take some pictures,” you added, finishing off your glass. “They might be a nice inclusion to the chapter.”

“That’s a great idea,” he smiled. “So, we’ll check it out and take some photos, and then we’ll go to Coney Island; Bucky and I used to go there all the time. Once, he made me ride this rollercoaster there until I got sick.” Steve laughed fondly at the memory. “But I got him back the next time and made him go on the tilt-a-whirl until he passed out.”

You chuckled, feeling the wine start to tingle pleasantly through your veins.

“Bucky? That was your best friend, right? The…the winter soldier?”

Steve’s smile grew sad at the mention of that title, but he nodded his head, reaching over to your glass of water and taking a sip casually. If it weren’t for the wine, you were sure you’d have found that odd, but you didn’t even think twice about it.

“He doesn’t like to be called that anymore,” he corrected you. “But he was known by that name once.”

You were both silent as he poured you another glass, and you mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ before promptly sipping on it. The air between you felt awkward all of a sudden, and you regretted bringing up the tender subject.

“So,” you spoke up, “what else is on your itinerary?”

“Well…” Steve perked up, “I thought that we could head over to Central Park after Coney Island; it’s all the way in Manhattan, but I used to go there and draw when I was a kid.”

“You like to draw?”

“I sure do. It’s one of the things that I’ve been good at since before the serum.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” you assured him.

“Oh, believe me, it is,” he grinned, and there was a softness in his eyes as he looked at you. “Other than getting in way over my head. I’ve always done that, too.”

When the waitress came by your table, Steve ordered for the both of you, but you didn’t mind; he happened to order your favorite type of pizza, and you smiled at the coincidence. The wine was starting to make your head buzz, but you welcomed it over the constant anxiety you seemed to be facing these days.

Your pizza came out surprisingly quick, right in the middle of a story you were telling Steve about your childhood. He was watching you so intently, his chin resting on his palm and his eyes sparkling with amusement. First one, then two more glasses of wine had been drunk (by only one of the people at your table), and when the bottle went empty he slid his still-full glass over for you to finish.

The both of you were completely silent as you ate the pizza; it seemed that you both were hungry. You ate your fill before sitting back and watching Steve ate the majority of the meal as you sipped your wine; you’d never seen anybody eat that much pizza in one setting, but then again, you’d never dined with a super soldier before.

The sun outside had completely disappeared by the time the two of you were finished, an entire bottle of wine sloshing in your belly as you stumbled out of the restaurant.

“Woah there,” Steve chuckled, holding his arm out for you to support yourself on. “You ok?”

“’M great,” you waved him off. “Just drank a little more than I was expecting to. You should’a stopped me at my second glass.”

All Steve replied with was a deep chuckle, leading you back to the car and helping you into your seat. You blushed as he buckled your seatbelt for you, feeling like a child.

“I can do it myself,” you tried to protest, but he batted your hands away when you reached for him.

“I know you can. But I want to help you.”

You huffed but made no attempt to further protest, settling in against the cushy seat as he started to drive you to the hotel. Your eyelids were slowly starting to feel heavier, and you jolted when you suddenly felt a hand descend on your shoulder.

“Hey, doll,” Steve was saying, “We’re here. Wake up.”

You blinked sluggishly; you hadn’t meant to drift off. Letting out a soft grunt, you opened your door and stood up on stiff legs. Your teacher smiled over at you as he unloaded your suitcases, handling all of the bags as he led you out of the parking garage and into one of the fanciest hotel lobbies you’d ever seen.

Your shoes clicked against the marble flooring as you walked with Steve to the receptionist’s desk. The man behind the counter gave your professor a wide smile, not even sparing you a glance as he greeted the soldier.

“Welcome, Mr. Rogers,” he grinned. “We are honored to have you staying with us, sir.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “We have a reservation under-“

“Rogers, yes. We have your room all set up.” The man handed Steve a keycard, and you wondered if he would start vibrating with how excited he was at having such a famous guest. “Please, do let us know if there’s anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant.”

“I sure will; have a good evening.”

With that, Steve gestured for you to walk into the nearby elevator before him, pressing the button for the 11th floor.

“I was wondering if that guy was gonna kiss you,” you joked, and he threw his head back as he laughed.

“I…am very glad he didn’t,” he sighed. “Wouldn’t wanna make you jealous.”

Your eyes widened, but before you could say anything, the elevator dinged open and Steve was making a beeline down the hallway. You rushed to follow him to a door marked “1110”, and the first thought you had after he unlocked the door and led you inside was…there’s only one bed. The room was gorgeous, of course. Soft carpet flooring, white linens, dark wood furniture, and you passed a spacious, luxurious bathroom as you stepped further into the room.

“Um… Steve?”

He turned to you as he set your bags on the dresser, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah?”

“There, um… There’s only one bed.”

“Oh,” he said, looking around at the bed as if only just then noticing it, “Yeah. All of the rooms with two were taken.”

“…Um… Alright, then,” you said, starting to sober up from the wine.

Walking over to the bed, you pulled off one of the pillows and dropped it to the floor, gripping the comforter and moving to pull it off of the mattress.

“What are you doing?”

You met Steve’s eyes, halting in your movements.

“I’m making myself a bed on the floor.”

“The floor?”

You nodded, wondering why it was so surprising.

“Yeah, I don’t mind sleeping on the floor,” you said. “You paid for the room, so you deserve the bed.”

“…Why don’t we just share it?”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his question, feeling like a deer in headlights as he stared at you.

“U-um, well… It’s just that you, um… you’re my teacher,” you explained, feeling dumb as you said so. “Wouldn’t that be…inappropriate?”

“Oh, c’mon, doll,” Steve sighed, setting his hands on his hips. “We’re both adults. You don’t need to be so immature about this.”

Your eyes were round, and your mouth hung open, not knowing what to say to that. Your chest tightened at the feeling of disappointment, for some reason feeling sick at the thought of Steve thinking of you as ‘immature’.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stuttered, voice small. “I’m just…going to put my pajamas on.”

You opened your suitcase hurriedly and snatched the first tank top and pajama pants you saw before rushing into the bathroom, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You took your time dressing, not wanting to venture back out into the bedroom to face him again; why did he bother you so much? Why did you care about what he thought?

Letting out a deep sigh, you looked at yourself in the mirror, heart sinking when you saw your shirt. Or, rather, what was showing straight through your shirt. Your nipples were clearly visible through the thin material of your white tank top, and for a second you pondered putting on your bra again. But it was stark black, sure to show through even more blatantly than your nipples.

Staring up at the ceiling, you briefly wondered if there was some higher power out there who just liked watching you squirm, scattering awkward, embarrassing moments throughout your life like a child throwing confetti.

Whatever, you decided, gathering up your dirty clothes and holding them against your chest. Steve thought you were immature, anyways. He probably wouldn’t spare your nipples a second glance, right?

…Right?

Summoning your courage, you opened the door and walked out, not once glancing over at your teacher as you headed to your suitcase. Not even when you heard him sigh and sit up straighter on the bed.

“Doll, I didn’t mean to be mean earlier,” he was saying as you shoved the bundle in your hands into the bag. “You’re very mature for your age, and I-“

You turned around, mouth open to speak, but you stopped when Steve’s words were cut off by a deep inhale. You glanced up shyly, just in time to see his eyes fly up from your chest to your face, his eyes a bit wide as he tried to keep his gaze fixed on yours.

For the first time since walking back into the bedroom, you realized that he was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, his muscles on full display as he lounged against the headboard. You hoped he didn’t see how your thighs clenched together at the sight, but his eyes caught every movement you made as you stood before him.

“I…” he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry for calling you immature earlier.”

You nodded, tearing your eyes away from his pectorals as you padded over to your side of the bed. Not daring to make any eye contact, you lifted the sheets, snuggling down into them and turning onto your side. You were faced away from him as you spoke next.

“It’s ok,” you said. “I think I’m going to go to bed now.”

“Alright, doll,” Steve murmured. “Goodnight.”

A few moments later, you felt his weight leave the bed as he got up to turn off all the lights. Once the room was completely dark, you felt the bed dip again, and you curled up into a ball to try and take up as little space as possible.

For a long while, you could only hear your own breathing, and one by one your muscles were beginning to relax. Just as you were on the edge of sleep, though, you heard sheets sliding against skin, and then a pair of impossibly strong arms were wrapping themselves around you.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second you froze. Your heart was pounding, and you felt Steve’s hot breath against the back of your neck. Wondering if he was just latching onto you in his sleep, you tried scooting away, wriggling in his iron-like grip. But despite your best efforts, he wouldn’t budge.

“Steve,” you whispered, “can you-“

“Stop,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling into the side of your neck. “Just be still.”

Your eyes widened, and you felt a rising tide of panic swell in your chest. Once more, you tried to distance yourself from him, reaching back behind you to try and push against his chest, but he only tightened his grip on you, squeezing you until it was beginning to grow harder to breathe.

“Stay. Still,” he growled, giving you one hard shake.

You whimpered at his tone, too shocked to say anything else. Limply, you let your hands fall back to your side, feeling the fight leave your body like water going down a drain.

“Good girl.”

Letting out shaky breaths, you forced your eyes to close and willed your breathing to slow down. Despite your discomfort, your exhaustion was getting the best of you, and your eyelids were once more growing heavy. Sleep was beginning to overtake you, and in the last moments before it completely won you over, you realized how warm Steve was, how nice it felt to be in someone’s arms. In any other situation, you could see yourself enjoying this.

But tonight was different. Tonight, you were trapped, and as nice as your body felt, your mind was at war with itself as you finally succumbed to sleep.

__________

You woke up impossibly warm. There was a comforting weight on top of you, and the pillow beneath your head was so soft, providing just the right amount of support. It was so unlike your own bed back home, filled with lumps and-

Your breath caught in your throat as the events of the night before came flooding back to you. Your eyes flew open, falling to the blonde head currently resting against your chest – Steve. He seemed to be asleep, his arm wrapped around your stomach and his lips slightly parted. From this angle you could see how long his eyelashes were, and for a brief moment you felt a flutter of jealousy.

But that feeling soon left when he took in a deep breath through his nose, his spine stretching and his arm flexing against you. You felt his thumb lazily trace circles against your side as he let out a yawn.

“Good morning,” he sighed, eyes still closed.

You gulped, feeling that familiar spike of fear inside you.

“Good m-morning,” you whispered back. You made to swing your legs over the side of the bed, but his arm only tightened in its grip.

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked up at you.

“Where are you going,” he asked, voice suddenly devoid of all sleepiness.

“Just to the bathroom,” you murmured, and thankfully, he let you go, rolling onto his back to allow you to stand up.

You felt his eyes on you the entire time it took for you to cross the room, and you let out a sigh of relief once there was a door separating you. A door which, you knew, he could easily put his fist through if he wanted; you’d always been aware of his strength, but it hadn’t seemed real to you until you’d felt his arms caging you in against him.

As you went about your business, you belatedly came to the realization that there was no explaining his actions anymore. You could no longer shake away the feelings of unease Steve arose within you; you could no longer call yourself ridiculous for not feeling safe with Captain America, of all people. As you washed your face and considered your countenance in the mirror, you felt your world came to a screeching halt as you accepted the fact that had been right in front of you the entire time.

Steve wanted you.

After gathering up your courage, you stepped out of the bathroom to find Steve already up and dressed in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. He gave you a soft smile when your eyes met, but now you could see the steel behind it.

“I figured we could just eat breakfast here,” he told you, using such a nonchalant tone that for a second you forgot entirely about last night. “They have a buffet downstairs. After that we can head to my old stompin’ grounds and take some pictures.”

“Th-that sounds good,” you assured him, cautiously walking over to your suitcase. “Is it ok if I take a shower first?”

“Of course it is. You want me to get out of your hair, leave you with the room to yourself? You can just come downstairs and meet me in the dining hall when you’re all set.”

“Oh.” You blinked in surprise. “Um, yeah, that would be great.”

Steve gave you another warm little smile, setting his hand on your shoulder as he walked past you.

“I’ll be waiting for you.”

You watched him leave, waiting to hear the door click completely shut before grabbing everything you needed from your suitcase and heading back into the bathroom. You took your time in the shower, wondering what exactly you should do about all of this. You couldn’t spend an entire week with Steve, not if he continued acting so…weird around you.

As you applied your makeup and dried your hair, you reasoned that, yes, Steve definitely had…some kind of feelings for you. Maybe it was a crush; maybe it was something more. Or maybe he just wanted to get in your pants. Either way, you had to tell him that his feelings weren’t returned, that you wanted to end the trip early. He could find another intern to finish out the week.

For now, you decided, you would do what he wanted for today; you would go with him to his old house and take notes; you would go to Coney Island with him. But as soon as he mentioned going back to the hotel, you would lay it all out for him and get an Uber back to your apartment.

Feeling determined, you grabbed your purse and headed down to the ground floor, almost getting lost in the vast hotel several times before you were able to locate the dining hall. Upon entering the large room, you saw Steve sitting at a table, tapping away at his phone with an already-empty plate. When he looked up at saw you, though, he hurriedly shoved the phone into his pocket and gave you a smile.

“You look great,” he said as you passed him on the way to the buffet.

All you could manage was a weak smile for him as you went about assembling a plate for yourself, even though you really didn’t have an appetite. You settled on some fruit salad and a muffin, grabbing a cup of orange juice as you went back to the table.

“That’s all you’re gonna eat?” Steve asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. You put on a false smile and nodded as you picked at your food.

“I’m not really hungry this morning.”

He didn’t offer any protest as you ate, and as soon as you were done he ushered you out into the parking garage. The car ride to his old home was mostly silent, leaving you to watch the streets of Brooklyn go by.

“This town has really changed,” Steve eventually sighed. “It’s always weird coming back here.”

You were quiet for a few moments, thinking about what to say. He’d sounded strangely…sad.

“You don’t think it’s changed for the best?” you finally spoke.

“Well… I dunno. Yes and no, I think. Because modern technology is great; there’s no disputing the accomplishments we’ve made with it. But this city used to be…smaller. And not just in size; it used to be that each street had its own flavor, its own feel to it. Now, everything is so commercialized that it doesn’t even seem real anymore.”

“…I’m sorry, Steve,” you muttered, feeling genuine sympathy for him despite how he’d made you feel. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through.”

Steve nodded, parallel parking the car onto the side of the road.

“I wouldn’t want you to, doll. The things I’ve seen sure can change a person.”

With that, he hopped out of the car, jogging around to open your door for you. As you stepped out onto the sidewalk, you saw a three-story brick building right in front of you. The first floor was dedicated to a Chinese restaurant and, beside it, a used bookstore, but it appeared that the top two floors were used for housing.

“That window,” Steve said, leaning closer to point it out to you, “used to be in my bedroom. And the downstairs was a clothing store back then. My mom was a tailor there when I was little, before she became a nurse.”

He led you around the building into an alleyway, a melancholy smile on his face. The alley was not unlike any other you’d seen; trash was strewn about and trashcans were lined up against the far wall. You heard music drifting out of an open window somewhere above you, though, and some of the windows had flower boxes with overflowing ivy inside of them. Steve paused at the foot of an old stairway made of iron, resting one of his feet on the bottom step and rubbing his hand up and down its rail.

“I used to climb these stairs every day,” he said wistfully. “And me and Bucky would play in the alleyway; I could always beat him at jacks.”

You gave him a small smile, walking closer to him.

“Can I borrow your phone?” you asked. “For the pictures.”

“Oh, right.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a StarkPhone, handing it to you. He made to walk away from the steps, but you held one of your hands out.

“No, stay there,” you instructed. “Look up at your old apartment, and uh…act natural.”

He chuckled, moving back to his position next to the stairwell.

“Whatever you say, Miss Photographer.”

You snapped a few photos from different angles, liking especially one where he had his back to the camera, his profile visible as he looked up at his old front door. You quickly set a black-and-white filter over it before handing him back the device.

“I think those all look good,” you said. “Tell me what you think.”

Steve flipped through the photos, lingering on the one you’d made black and white.

“These are great,” he praised you. “But they’d look much better with you in them with me.”

He gave you a wink as he tucked the phone back into his pocket, gesturing for you to follow him back to the car before you had the chance to say anything more.

“C’mon, it’s been decades since I’ve gone to Coney Island. I wanna see how different it is these days.”

The rest of the day was strangely…pleasant, in spite of being with a man you knew to have some kind of strange fascination with you. Going to Coney Island with Steve kind of made you feel like a kid again. He wouldn’t go on any of the rides, but he did play some of the carnival games with you. It was his idea.

“C’mon, we can’t come here and not have at least a little bit of fun,” he’d cajoled. You’d given in, following him to the ring toss stall.

After that, you began to loosen up a little bit. The games were fun, despite how rigged they clearly were. Steve, though, was unsurprisingly amazing at them; he’d even broken the Strong Man game. When he’d brought the hammer down onto the button, not only did the bell ring, but it cracked in half. He’d grinned and picked a huge teddy bear off of the rack, handing it to you proudly, and you hadn’t been able to do anything but laugh and accept it with a smile.

After stopping to get a hot dog (or three hot dogs for Steve), you’d piled back into his car, barely able to fit the bear into the backseat. On the ride to Central Park, you skimmed through Steve’s phone, picking out your favorite of the photos you’d taken at the amusement park. You laughed and showed him the one you’d taken just after he broke the game; in the picture his eyes were wide as he looked back at you sheepishly.

When you got to the park and managed to find a parking space close by, you sensed a distinct shift in Steve’s mood. As you got out and let him guide you to the spot in the park he used to visit as a child, you felt his eyes on you constantly, and your small talk puttered out into dead silence. You felt the back of your neck prickle with discomfort as you noticed the path you were walking on becoming less and less crowded, leaving you alone with the super soldier.

You had the feeling that something bad was about to happen.

Eventually, the two of you came to a shady part of the path where the tree branches hung low, shielding the asphalt underfoot from sunlight. There was a small, old-looking bridge in front of you, and Steve paused when the two of you were standing overtop of it.

“Why are we stopping?” you asked, turning to him. “Is this the place?”

Steve didn’t answer, looking down at his hands where they rested against the bridge. You felt that familiar sense of anxiety rising up inside of you, and you fidgeted as you watched him carefully.

“You know, I’ve thought about this moment for a while, now,” he finally said, “But hell, I’m still nervous.” He gave you a sheepish smile, but it did nothing to make you feel better. “I guess you just have that effect on me.”

You gulped, clenching your fists at your sides.

“Steve, what…what are you talking about?”

“I think you know, doll.” He stepped closer to you, his chest almost touching yours. “I think you’ve known for a while.

“You must know that I’m crazy about you by now.”

You looked down, not able to meet his eyes, but his hand went under your chin and guided your face back up towards him.

“Hey, look at me, baby. I-“

“No, please don’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “Steve, we can’t-“

“I love you.”

Your heart sank upon hearing those words, and despite how he’d treated you up to this point, it broke your heart to see how hopeful his expression was.

“Steve, I…” You paused, and he eagerly nodded, hoping to hear something you knew you couldn’t say. “We can’t do this. You’re my teacher, and I’m your student. We could both get in huge trouble.”

You watched the hopeful glimmer in his eyes fade away, replaced with disappointment as his face fell.

“But…what if you weren’t my student?” he suddenly asked.

You scrunched up your eyebrows questioningly.

“What do you mean?”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to go to school anymore,” he told you in a pleading voice. “I…I could take care of you. You could do your writing from home, and I could provide for us and our family. I know that you have your own plans, but now you don’t have to-“

“Our family? Steve, I’m so… I’m confused. You expect me to just quit everything and, what? Be your housewife?”

Steve frowned at your tone, setting a hand on your shoulder. You tried to move it away from him, but his grip was like iron.

“Doll, I know that this is sudden, but I also know that I can make you happy. And you can’t deny that you have the same feelings that I do. I can hear your heart pounding as we speak-“

“That’s because I’m afraid, Steve! I hardly even know you, and the only feelings you’ve given me so far have been fear and discomfort. You can’t just fucking decide that-“

His grip on you tightened, causing you to let out a yelp of pain.

“Watch your language, baby,” he warned you, voice hard as steel. “I won’t have you speaking to me that way. Not after everything I’ve done for you.”

“What you’ve done for me?! You haven’t-“

“I changed my whole life for you,” he spat, his face getting closer and closer to yours. “I moved across town into a shitty matchbox apartment just to be closer to you. I got you into my class so we could properly meet one another. I’ve given you my heart, (Y/N), and I’m ready to give you the life you’ve always wanted!” Your head spun with his revelation of just how crazy he was. You wanted to scream in his face; you wanted to tell him just how insane he was. But you knew that wasn’t the smart thing to do in this situation, and if you wanted to make it out of this, you would have to be smart. He was stronger than you, and you were alone with no one else in sight; you couldn’t fight your way out of this.

“S-Steve,” you whispered, forcing yourself to look into his eyes. “Steve, please. I’m sorry for being so…rude. Just… Can we talk about this? Maybe at the hotel? All of this is so sudden, just like you said. I need to think it through.” You silently willed him to believe what you were saying; if you could just make it back to the street you could try and find help.

He seemed to turn over your words, hesitating before finally loosening his grip on you.

“…Okay, doll,” he nodded, taking a step back. “We can talk about this. But you’d better watch the tone you take with me. Now let’s-“

He was cut off by the sound of a ringtone emanating from his back pocket – more specifically, your ringtone. You both froze for a long moment before Steve slowly reached for it, and your blood ran cold when you saw its familiar phone case. It wasn’t the StarkPhone you’d been borrowing from your teacher all day; no, that was your phone. The one that you hadn’t been able to find yesterday.

And Steve had it.

“…I’m sorry about that,” he sighed, crushing the device in his palm as if it were made of paper mache. “I know that this looks bad… I was gonna give it back to you after our week together.”

All of your reason went out the window, and on shaky legs you turned and did the only thing your brain could think about in that moment.

You ran.

You could hear Steve’s footfalls behind you, moving impossibly fast, and you let out a scream, making your voice as loud as possible and willing your legs to move faster. Within seconds though, his vice-like arms were around you, one of his massive palms pressing against your mouth and muffling your cries.

“Cut it out right now,” he demanded. “You know you can’t win this fight.”

You didn’t faulter in your frenzied movements, though, still kicking your legs blindly. It was only until you felt his hand move from your mouth to your throat that you went still, your vision slowly going black at the corners as it became harder to breathe.

You were still trying to scream, though, begging anyone who could possibly hear you for help even as your voice became thin and strained. All too soon, though, you felt something hard hit you in the back of the head, and you felt yourself sinking into unconsciousness.

“Shh, it’s ok,” you thought you heard Steve say. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

And then everything went black.

________

The first thing you became aware of as you woke up was how sore you felt. Your head was pounding, your mouth was dry, and your arms were cramping. With a low moan, you tried to move them, but something around your wrists was stopping you.

“Shhh, doll, you’re ok. I’m so glad you’re waking up.”

Slowly, your eyes opened and you found yourself face to face with Steve. Sucking in a deep breath, you turned and saw your wrists tied to a bedframe with a thin but strong length of rope. Judging by the rope burn on your skin and the soreness in your muscles, you’d been tied up in that position for a while.

“I was so afraid I’d hit you too hard,” Steve was going on, perched right next to your hip on the mattress. “I’m sorry that I had to do that, but to be fair, you weren’t leaving me much of a choice.”

Your eyes widened as you took in the room you were trapped in. The walls and floor were made out of concrete, and there were no windows in sight. There were, however, bookshelves lining an entire wall to your left, and there was a brown leather couch and two matching armchairs placed in front of them. A staircase sat in the corner to your right, and there were two visible doors in the room – one right in front of you and one to the right.

“Doll? You okay there? Your heart is beating faster than a steam engine.”

You turned back to face Steve so quickly that your head spun with the movement.

“S-Steve?” Your voice was brittle, and you just then realized how much your throat hurt.

“Oh, here, hon. Sip some water; it should help your throat feel better.” Steve stood up and retrieved a glass of water from the nightstand before once more taking his place beside you and holding it to your lips. You tried to lift your head up off the pillow as much as possible, but some of it still dribbled down your chin.

After you’d drank your fill, Steve put the glass back on the table and leaned over you, letting one of his hands rest on your hip while the other one wiped away the water you’d spilled.

“There you go. That feel any better?”

You warily nodded, completely unsettled by the pleasant little smile he was wearing on his face.

“Steve,” you tried once again. “Where am I?”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb while his other hand drew lazy circles against your hip. “You’re safe.”

You struggled once more against your ties, but all you accomplished was aggravating your already raw skin. Steve sighed and pulled away, standing up and putting his hands on his hips.

“Doll, I’ve already warned you about your attitude,” he chided. “If you calm down, I’ll untie you, but first you’ve gotta settle down and behave. Understood?”

You felt tears spring to your eyes as you realized just how helpless you were in this situation, but you blinked them away as you nodded. You stopped struggling and lay still.

“I-I understand.”

“Good girl. Now, I’ll untie you, but if you try to run or do anything stupid, I won’t hesitate to tie you up again and leave you like that for the next week. Got it?” When you nodded your head, Steve tsked, shaking his head. “You need to do better than that. Say, ‘I promise not to run, Steve.’”

“I-I promise not to run, Steve,” you recited, feeling a tear slide down your cheek.

His face softened at that, and he leaned over you to wipe it away.

“Don’t cry, baby. You’re safe here, remember? The last thing I wanna do is hurt you.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a pocketknife, and you winced as he gripped the rope. With quick, deft movements, he severed both chords, and as soon as you were free you scrambled as far away from him on the bed as possible, rubbing the sore skin of your wrists while drawing your knees up to your chin. Steve sighed at your response, but all he did was sit down on the bed again.

“Now, you said you wanted to talk earlier, right? So let’s talk. But this time, watch your tone; you’re already due for a punishment for how you spoke to me earlier.”

You felt yourself blanch at his tone, hugging your knees tighter as you watched him; you didn’t want to talk. You didn’t even know what to say, other than to voice the one question echoing in your mind.

“…Why?” you finally asked. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you, doll,” was his immediate response. “I know that you’re confused. I know that you’re scared, and I can understand that. Love is…scary; it’s terrifying. But I know that if you just give me a chance, you’ll see how happy we can be together.”

You shook your head, trying to trample down the anger you felt welling up inside you; yelling at him would get you nowhere.

“Steve…this isn’t the way to go about this,” you carefully said. “I don’t want a relationship right now. And it’s not about you; I don’t want a relationship with anybody until I’m done with college. Please, just…let me go, and I promise I won’t tell anyone, ok? We can even go on a proper date after I graduate if you still want to. Just please, please, let me go. You don’t want to do this.”

Steve’s lips stretched into a humorless smile, and he let out a cold chuckle.

“I don’t want this, huh? What do you know about what I want? As a matter of fact, what has anyone ever known about what I want? Or what’s more, when have they cared?

“I never wanted to be this,” he growled, gesturing down at his body. “I didn’t want to be some super soldier; I just wanted to serve my country. I never wanted to wake up in a century I didn’t belong in. I didn’t want to fight against an alien army; I didn’t want to watch half of my friends turn to dust; I didn’t want to see the first woman I ever loved slowly die of an old age I never got to reach.

“But I did it. I did all of that, and now? I’m tired of doing shit I don’t wanna do just because it’s what’s right. Just this once, I want something for myself. Someone for myself. I want to be happy. And baby, right now, you’re what I need to be happy.

“I’ve given everything away, and now I’m going to collect on what I’ve rightfully fucking earned.”

The entire time he was talking, his gaze had gone darker and darker as his voice rose, and now he stood up, marching to the side of the bed you were resting on and pulling you up with both hands wrapped around your biceps. You felt yourself being lifted completely into the air, but before you could push him away, he was kissing you.

His lips were unforgiving as they moved against yours, his tongue shoving itself inside of your mouth ungracefully. You whimpered, pressing your hands against his chest and wriggling your body in his grip. He made no signs of budging, though, only tightening his grip on you.

Desperate to separate yourself from him, you bit down on his tongue, feeling yourself being suddenly dropped to the hard floor as Steve let out a howl. You thought you saw blood trickle down from his lips as you staggered to your feet, but you tore your eyes away from him and quickly started rushing to the stairs. Taking two steps at a time, you climbed them until you reached the steel door at their top.

With shaky hands, you turned its handle, but it didn’t move so much as an inch. Feeling your heart plummet to your toes, you uselessly flung yourself against it, vaguely aware of your own screaming.

Letting out a sob, you pressed your back against the cold steel, looking down to see Steve wiping a small trail of blood off of his chin. He hadn’t moved from his spot, and in spite of his obvious pain, there was a smirk on his lips. There was no mistaking the anger in his eyes, though.

“Get your ass,” he growled, drawing himself to his full height, “down those fucking stairs.”

Your entire body was trembling as you realized how helpless you were.

“NOW,” Steve suddenly shouted, and you jolted at the sound.

Moving as if in a daze, you descended the stairs, a cold numbness spreading throughout your body as you realized you were well and truly trapped. When you stood in front of Steve once again, you felt his hand grip your chin harshly, yanking your face closer to his.

“That,” he growled, “was a stupid thing to do.”

He suddenly spun you around and pushed you, and you let out a shriek as you landed on the mattress. He didn’t give your body a chance to stop bouncing before he was on you, tearing at your shirt until you felt the material rip.

“I tried to do this the right way,” he was muttering, almost to himself. “I waited for months. I watched you; I was nice to you. I had an entire evening planned for you after the park if you’d have just said yes.”

You cried out as he yanked your pants down your legs, and you blindly kicked at him as you sobbed. With harsh, jerky movements, he pushed them apart and settled his hips over yours, settling his weight over you until you were pinned.

“I was gonna be gentle with you,” he continued on, running his hands over your body, squeezing your breasts so hard through your bra that you yelped. “I was going to make your first time so special, baby. But then you had to go and fuck it all up.”

Your body froze for a second, a wave of terror crashing over you at his implications. Steve used your pause as an opportunity to push his jeans down, taking his underwear with them. You tried your best not to look down at his body as he took his shirt off, but you’d still caught a glance at what lay in store for you.

His cock was enormous, bigger than any you’d seen in any porn, and you squeezed your legs together at the thought of it inside your body. It wouldn’t fit; there was no way.

“Please, Steve,” you were babbling, once more trying to push him away. “Please, it’s gonna hurt so bad; please, I don’t want this to be my first time. Steve, I-“

His hand descended down over your mouth, gritting his teeth as his other hand tore off your bra.

“I hope it does hurt, doll,” he growled. “I hope you can’t walk straight for a week. I hope that every time you even think of running away from me again, every time you so much as move your legs, you feel me fucking into your tight, virgin pussy and remember who you belong to.”

Suddenly you were being flipped over onto your stomach, and you gripped the sheets as you felt your panties being torn off. This was it, you thought, and you braced yourself as best you could.

But when your legs weren’t pulled apart, when you didn’t feel his hands against you for a second, your eyes opened once more. You turned your head to look over your shoulder, only to see Steve’s hand as it slapped your ass so hard you swore you saw stars.

You buried your face in the blankets beneath you as he spanked you over and over again, sobbing as the pain radiated throughout your entire body. Every time you tried to crawl away from him, his hands would wrap around your hips and pull you right back to where he wanted your body.

“Nuh-uh, baby,” he growled. “You need to take your God. Damn. Punishment.”

Each word was punctuated with a spank, and you did nothing to stop your screams as you lost count somewhere around 15. You’d had no idea how strong he was before this; you’d thought you’d sensed it when he held you in his arms last night; you’d thought you’d seen it in his bulging muscles. But it was only now, as he was using his strength to hurt you, that you fully understood it.

By the time he stopped, you were laying limp on your stomach, crying into the sheets and trying to think of something, anything other than the pain. But when you felt yourself being maneuvered up onto your knees, you felt your panic only increase.

He gave you no warning before he shoved his cock inside of you, but even if he had said anything, you doubt you would have heard it over your own scream. Your walls were roughly stretched as he entered you, inch by aching inch. Your chest shook with your sobs as they mingled with his moan of pleasure. A part of you wondered how he could be feeling so good while you were in such pain, but all thought left you when he started moving his hips.

You’d always known that your first time would be at least a little painful, but nothing could have prepared you for this. The pain seemed to radiate throughout your entire body, and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to struggle as his thrusts grew more regular in their rhythm.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hands squeezing your hips. “I knew you would feel good, knew this pussy would be so good to me-“

He cut himself off with another moan, shifting his hips so he could fuck deeper into you. You had your eyes squeezed shut the entire time, your nails biting into the skin of your palms as you willed the pain to go away. You tried to relax against him; you even tried to enjoy it, just to ease the pain. You were desperate for it to go away, and your cries only increased when Steve started to move faster.

Whether it was out of pity or just his own sick amusement, he slowed in his rhythm just a bit, snapping his hips almost lazily as one of his hands trailed down your back.

“Oh, I’m sorry baby,” he breathed, dragging his cock up and down your walls, hitting a spot inside of you that made your eyes fly wide open. “I forgot that you like it nice and slow at first, right?”

You whined at his words; the pain was still present, but with him hitting against that spot that made colors dance behind your vision, pleasure was starting to build alongside it. You were somewhat aware that you were babbling, but you couldn’t even make out your own words as he hit that spot repeatedly.

“I used to watch you, you know,” he grunted, reaching around your body to run his finger over your clit. You jolted at the sensation, inadvertently clenching around him. “I would watch you use that little pink toy you kept in your bedside table. I – fuck - memorized how you made yourself cum, knowing I could make you feel so much better than that tiny piece of plastic ever could.”

As he started thrusting faster once more, his fingers sped up with him, rubbing up and down against your clit until your sobs slowly started transforming into moans.

“See, doll? I fucking knew you would love this,” he said. “Knew you would see how you were made to be mine. I’ll fucking make you see.”

Your eyes rolled as you felt yourself moving closer and closer to the edge, and from the shouts and half-grunted words of praise spilling from Steve’s lips, he was getting close, too. His hips were moving at a brutal pace, but you were starting to crave it even through the dull haze of pain. He was filling you up so well, hitting every corner and ridge inside of your pussy so perfectly, so completely; you did nothing to stop your moans from falling out of your lips, all of your fear and agony fading away until there was nothing but Steve and the pleasure he was bringing you.

“Steve-!” you cried out, your hips moving against his of their own accord. “P-please-“ You weren’t sure if you were begging for him to stop or begging him not to, but as you reached the edge of your climax, you found that you didn’t care.

“I know, baby,” he growled, “I know. I-I… Fuck!”

Suddenly, his fingers were gone from your clit, and you let out a whine as your orgasm eluded you, slipping away right through your fingers. You felt something warm flood your pussy, though, and you looked over your shoulder to see Steve’s mouth open in a silent scream, pure bliss written across his features as he came inside of your abused pussy.

Your eyes were wide open, silently pleading with him as you squirmed beneath his body, but when he opened his eyes and saw your sad, needy face, all he did was grin.

“I knew you would be perfect, baby,” he panted, slowly pulling his cock out of you with a wince. You ignored the sensation of his cum leaking out of your body, trying to catch your breath between the sobs that were starting to return.

“W-why…” you started to ask, but he just leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Be a good girl for me next time, and I’ll let you cum.”

You melted against the mattress and watched him dress with unseeing eyes, the pleasant feelings in your cunt starting to fade while slowly being replaced by a dull, throbbing ache that brought fresh tears to your eyes.

“Now, I’m going to go out and get a few things from the store,” Steve spoke, his voice steady and neutral despite what he’d just done to you. “I’ll be back in a few hours. I want you to think about what you’ve done and have a nice apology waiting for me when I come home, okay?”

When you didn’t respond, he turned to you and raised one threatening eyebrow, not looking away until you’d given him a shaky nod.

“Good girl. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

After pulling his shoes on, he started climbing the stairs, pausing at the top to look back down at you with a deceptively warm, soft smile.

“I love you, doll.”

And with that, he left, leaving you with his cum cooling on your thighs.

#precodechallenge #steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #dark!steve x reader #professor!steve rogers #dark #non-con #kidnapping #stalking #smut #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader

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colorseeingchick · 4 years ago

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Someone say SIKE RN I-

WE HIT 100 FOLLOWERS AHHHHHHHHHH

Ok y’all already know its about to get reflective for no reason but bare with me. If you don’t wanna read the sappy stuff I understand, so just be ready for an Event announcement later today or tomorrow.

First off, I’ve realized I never really introduced myself so let’s do that briefly. Hello! My name is En, and I’m 19.

I started this blog because I’ve loved writing for a very long time, but I struggled a lot with story telling (I’m actually a poet more than anything else). But writing has always brought me so much joy and happiness in my dark and troubled times, and I just want to share that happiness with other people as well. So I thought, why not? Let’s see what happens.

Best choice I’ve made in a while honestly.

I want to start off by thanking you guys. You all probably follow me just for the fics, but I really do appreciate all of you. If you guys want to be friends or moots, please just tell me! I’m more than happy to get to know any of you, or support you in any way I can. I like to think I’m a fun person :D so we will have good times hehe.

I’ve already made a few amazing friends on here, and they’ve made my life so much better. So its appreciation time LOL

@kirislut : Meg’s my first friend on here, and single handedly made making a tumblr so worth it. I still remember the fun and goofy conversation we had our first time talking. Meg’s so easy to talk to, writes really fun and feel-good stories, and has been very supportive of me whenever I need it. It was for those reasons she also acted as my inspiration to start writing on here in the first place. I have so much love and admiration for ya, Meg. You’re the best 💕

@katsushimaa : Yssa was my first mutual! And also my first follower LMAO. She followed me and I just sat there like :O. But Yssa, since when I found her blog, has always been a ray of sunshine. The amount of constant positivity she puts out is so captivating, and it comes through in how receptive her friends are to it. Yssa is a living example of “what you give is what you get.” Any time I talk to you, Yssa, I feel so much happier. Mahal kita, Yssa ❤

@sasukelore : Freya is simultaneously the baddest bitch and the biggest troll I know on this app (I have not forgotten the Salad Fingers fanfic, babe. It still haunts me at night). In all seriousness, Freya is one of the realest people I know. When it comes to real world shit, she’s got my back. She’s so strong and has strength I do not, its so admirable. Not to mention, her fics are 👀🔥 yk what I’m saying LMAO. Freya I love you sm BB 😘

@animatedarchives : I have not been friends with Soph for long, but she’s always been super kind to me. From our first interaction, to like, literally yesterday, I’ve made some DUMB mistakes in front of Soph. But she never ridicules me for it. She’s very good about making a safe space, and is super receptive to the emotions and behaviors of the people around her. Its a superpower, I’m telling ya. Send me more food pics, okay Soph? Love ya 🥰

I’m so thankful for all these wonderful people. And if you don’t follow them already, you should check out their blogs (they’re all INSANELY talented way better than me). I’m so happy they’ve been by my side for this journey so far.

I hope you all will stick around as this journey keeps going! As I grow as a person and as a writer, and make some friends along the way. Thank you, lovelies.

#colorseeingchick milestone #CSC@100 #into the void

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denbroughism · 4 years ago

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━━ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

It’s Lilia Barber ( @jaedenphy ) day and guess who’s making a fanfic masterlist for her?? That’s right, me! Okay, so I gathered together a bunch of fics I’ve read and considering that you’ve read the fics I sent you, some of these fics you’ve read before but are still godly. List under the cut for length purposes <3

My comments and reviews may contain spoilers and the ones without a specific chapter count are one-shots :)

The way making this masterlist made me reread the fuck out of so many fics smh

LAST UPDATED: 1 August 2020

Bill Denbrough / Richie Tozier

"Game Over, Bitch” by sweetpeacheddie | General

Richie plans a surprise date with Bill, but it doesn't quite go according to plan...

MY COMMENTS: smug Bill? yes. the Bill in this fic made me grin like an idiot just from how sneaky and attractive this little piece of shit is. Richie being soft and scared about Bill not having a good time is so adorable and the way Bill used it against him made me go jsjjdjsjd

Twister by @antisociallilbrat | Teen

Fluffiness, tongue twisters, and making out

MY COMMENTS: it’s short but still adorable idc idc. fics about love interests helping Bill with tongue twisters is adorable in itself and the flirting and the teasing in this fic made me scream from how cute they are pls

The Cruel Irony of Sunshine by @theflirtmeister | Teen

That’s when Richie spots him.

Leaning against one of the ridiculous fake palm trees, clearly not listening to the conversation he’s caught in, is Bill Denbrough in the fucking flesh. Richie could have picked him out from a hundred yards away, with his floppy hair, perfect eyebrows and jawline that could cut crystal.

Richie hates everything about him.

MY COMMENTS: the reason why i want to write bichie fanfics. the amount of angst and fluff mixed with longing and pining is godtier. the way they fell apart because of a fight and the first thing they do when they meet—after pining and longing mixed with anger—is fight made me cry :’)

Disciplinary Action by Apuzzlingprince | Explicit

He simply sat down on the end of Bill’s bed and patted a knee. Bill stared at him, uncomprehending.

“Bill,” said Richie, gesturing for him to come closer. “Pants down, over my knees.”

Bill balked. “Wait, s-seriously?”

Bill does something stupid and reaps the reward.

MY COMMENTS: i don’t think i’ve sent you this one because i remember i read it on my laptop instead of my phone lmao. this fic is the definition of “i’ll make it up to you with sex” fics but holy fuck this one is good. i remember reading this a while ago and yelling internally because wow this fic is so jsjsj

Dissolve by @wonderwheelzier | Explicit

After eight years of radio silence, Bill Denbrough finds himself at the same Hollywood party as his once best friend, and his first and only love, Richie Tozier. As adolescent memories come flooding back, Bill has to decide what he wants to do with this second chance.

MY COMMENTS: first off, the author is a brilliant writer so let’s put that out. second of all, this fic is 17K words long so that’s really fun. third of all, what the fuck? this fic is amazing and so well written, honestly. the way the pining and the smut were tied together wonderfully just blows my mind. this is such a pretty fic and the way the story ends with Richie leaving and BIll knowing that there’s no going back? that shit HURTED

If Your Love Was Bad for You by @perceabeth | Teen

Prompt: angsty unrequited type of situation with a happy and/or bittersweet ending.

MY COMMENTS: i gotta be real with you, i forgot about this fic whoops. but i read the last paragraph and i started heaving. i love this fic but i forgot the title and the way this fic started jsjfjsjf this fic is ends in a bittersweet tone holy fuck. the account on AO3 is an orphaned account, but i found the tumblr user of the author so here ya go

Soulmate AU by @perceabeth | Major Character Death

n/a

MY COMMENTS: i still think of this fic to this very day, this fic is the reason why i hate soulmate AUs oh my God. Richie and Bill’s dynamic isn’t too laid out in this fic, but the ending? God, the ending—absolutely wrecked me. I cried and I screamed and I couldn’t function properly after reading this fic. It’s one of the best fics I’ve ever read and deserves all the love you can give. I love this fic, I adore it, read it.

One Week Away by @trash-the-tozier | Teen | 2/2

School is out for spring break, and the Losers are taking a week long trip to visit Beverly in Portland. Could there have been a worse time for Richie to realize that he was in love with his best friend?

MY COMMENTS: I remember sending this to you but reread it. this fic is so soft and adorable my babies istg. Richie pining for Bill while Bill tried to stay away from Richie because he has a crush on him? God-tier trope. Put it in, roll it up, give it to me. The Stanlon in the background and Bev being the cheerleader she is? i love this

What We Built by @sinningtozier | Teen

each nail, each plank, the little scratches on the walls and the sloppily carved initials were a testament to them, a testament to their love and what they built.

MY COMMENTS: Soft boys in love that is all. The connections between kisses and hugs and the tears and pain was just adorable. Bill and Richie always being there for each other makes me smile and cry oh my God

Blood Brothers by @fairyling | General

bill and richie don’t say they’re dating but they kiss and they fight. their relationship isn’t one that the other’s understand or event try to.

MY COMMENTS: i read this fic once and i still cry about it <3 it’s just a really soft and adorable fic but then the ending made me scream and cry oh my God. Blood Brothers. The way Bill remembers vaguely even as all else fades away just hits hard. i love this fic so damn much and i think you would too

Eye On the Ball by @call-me-eds | Mature

Bill tries to cope with his role in his friend group and Richie can’t stand it.

MY COMMENTS: first of all, everyone say thank you to them for making Bichie Week and making fic hunting a gazillion times easier. Second, this fic is amazing i don’t care. the way Bill is so tight and Richie is trying to loosen him up is a concept that would first come to mind when you think of Bichie, but somehow I’ve rarely seen this put to work. This fic is amazing that is all

The Math Tutor by @sinningtozier | General | headcanon

georgie needs a math tutor, bill’s strong point is english not math, so his mom hire’s her coworkers son to tutor him three times a week

MY COMMENTS: look, i know this is a headcanon but lol i love this so much. Bill is so awkward around Richie and i find that hilarious omfg

Like I Do by @thegreatwhiteferret | Explicit

Richie is feeling down on himself because of his ADHD and Bill jumps in and tries to teach him to appreciate all of his flaws for how beautiful they are.

MY COMMENTS: I’ve always been a sucker for Richie’s ADHD going feral and his s/o helping him calm down. This fic covers that part along with smut so bonus points on that

Bill Denbrough / Stanley Uris

Ain’t Eez-Eh by simplerplease | Mature | 17/17

Bill gets drunk, texts a number written on the club bathroom wall, regrets it, then falls in love.

MY COMMENTS: deadass the first thing that comes to my mind when anyone says Stenbrough. this fic is iconic and god-tier. I’ve read this a few times and I love it :’) if you haven’t read this fic... wow alright, cool. read it.

All My Little Words by jojenstarked | Teen

Stanley Uris never considered himself a jealous person. That is, until he met Bill Denbrough and suddenly he was jealous of the person getting songs stuck in his head.

Bill Denbrough had always wanted to meet his soulmate. Then he met Stanley Uris and he forgot all about them. All he wanted to do was get him to love him back.

Good thing they're soulmates.

MY COMMENTS: this fic is so adorable and so soft holy fuck i remember crying a bit after reading this from how sweet this fic is, i love this fic sm

More Like Baerista, Am I Right? by @billdensbrough | Not Rated

In which Stan is a fake black coffee drinker, Bill really shouldn't be a barista, and the rest of the losers just want them to get together without a counter in-between them.

MY COMMENTS: First off, this fic is 10K words long and contains slow-burn and a lot of pining so there’s that. Other than that, it’s really soft, adorable and fluffy. It’s just a really adorable stenbrough coffee shop AU, truly one of the best coffee shop AUs

Richie Tozier / Stanley Uris

Untouched (Need You So Much) by breathplayed | Explicit | 9/?

Stan Uris could’ve gone his entire life without knowing what Richie Tozier’s dick looked like.

(Or, Richie has a big dick and Stan the Man has a Big Crisis.)

MY COMMENTS: this is the abandoned fic i cried about the other day omfg i can’t believe i started an unfinished fic :’) but either way, this fic is so sexy and hot holy fuck, the pining, everything is godly. Richie singing a song for Stan and Stan being awkward about it?? amazing. last updated in 2018 and ends with a sort of cliffhanger, but still—

Stan My Man! Series by @birdboyinthedeadlights | Explicit | 4/4

n/a

MY COMMENTS: bitch you thought i wouldn’t add this fic on this masterlist when it’s the definition of goddamn iconic. you really thought i was going to leave the fic that pushed us both into the Stozier hole? as if. the was the Stozier friendship and dynamic is laid out is wonderful. The banters and the snark along with the lovely fondness is tied perfectly. i love this, you love this, we all love this, i’m dragging you back into the Stan My Man! series hole, you’re welcome <3

I Wanna Hold You Like You’re Mine by @birdboyinthedeadlights | Explicit

Stan's hand was moving before he could think better of it, wanting to touch the pleated navy skirt in front of him. God, it looked so soft, it must feel amazing. The whispered drag across his thighs -

“What’re you doin’?”

Stan’s hand froze, looking up at Richie’s unfocused gaze. No aide of glasses to let him see Stan’s heating face in the low light.

“Nothing.”

Richie’s eyes squinted, trying to make out the shapes around him until he looked to where Stan’s hand still hovered. The small inhale and grin let Stan know he didn’t need his vision clear to figure out what was going on. He always did know Stan too well.

“You’d look pretty in that.”

MY COMMENTS: Hello, yes, the author is so great at writing Stozier fics oh my God. The intimacy, the relationship, the pining, the need. Everything about this fic is brilliant. The way Stan wants Richie’s love and Richie wants to give Stan love but they’re both so afraid, so nervous. God, the way they dance around each other and when it’s time to take a dip, they were both to scared. Oh God, I love them so much and this fic ties the intimacy of pining and the ‘friends-with-benefits’ line so well, so perfectly. The mirroring between past and present? I love this and the author is a genius.

I Need You by @childrenofthe80s | Teen

Richie Tozier was a mix of emotions. He was absolutely miserable and it was all because of a motherfucking named Stan.

MY COMMENTS: the way the insecurity trope is flipped to Stan being insecure and Richie holding onto him and comforting him just makes me so soft oh my Lord

The Truth is That I Think I’ve Had Enough by @eddieeatsass | Explicit

For the first time since Stan developed feelings for his best friend, Richie was finally single on Valentine’s Day, and Stan was fully planning on taking advantage of it. He invited Richie on a camping trip, just wanting one night where he could pretend, but Richie had different plans.

MY COMMENTS: Yo, do you remember this iconic fic? Because I sure as hell do. The camping mixed with the repressed feeling and Richie slamming his head on the tent cover when he tried to strip? Amazing

why not me? by seeingredfics | Mature | 1/?

everything between stan and richie was supposed to be platonic, especially their secret hook-ups and longing stares.

MY COMMENTS: This is unfinished but even the first chapter has a satisfying end to it. Richie is so soft for Stan, Lord Christ and wasted!Stan gives off second-hand embarrassment like no other. But other than that, it’s amazing.

I Guess That's Love by @birdboyinthedeadlights | explicit

Stan shook as Richie held him.

Richie was used to this - used to the damaged boy with his fractured face and shattered soul. Used to playing clean up to his meltdowns and sitting with him through his dissociations. Richie knew he was a burden, wouldn’t ever say it, but Stan knew.

Stan was tired of knowing.

MY COMMENTS: I don't think this author can even write a bad stozier fic, this is so good as well tf? The angst is so wonderfully done and put together with a Stan Uris who's trying his best just mames it perfect

Bill Denbrough / Richie Tozier / Stanley Uris

Not Complete Until There’s Three by @thoughtfullyyoungduck | Not Rated

Mike’s call brings back some memories for Stan, more specifically memories about Stan and Richie. Stan is in for a rough awakening when he comes back to Derry and finds out Richie and Bill are married.

MY COMMENTS: see my reaction here :’) but other than the angst from Stan’s half, the fic is godtier. There isn’t much Stenbroughzier fics out there, but this one is so satisfying and the way everything falls together was simply perfect.

Sk8er Boi by @s-s-georgie | Teen

Stan and Richie are dating. It sucks that Bill likes both of them.

MY COMMENTS: Honestly the first Stenbroughzier fic I’ve ever read. This fic dragged me into the Stenbroughzier mess I’m now dragging you into, but holy fuck. This fic is really adorable and the pining—the lovely, lovely pining. It’s so soft and adorable aside the slight angst that is all

To Make You Feel My Love by @thegreatwhiteferret | Explicit

Stan takes care of his very neglected boys.

MY COMMENTS: i remember finding this fic and falling in love with it immediately. i know it’s on Tumblr somewhere, but I can’t find the author’s Tumblr (if you know, please respond so I can change it) and this fic covers the intimacy and the worry along with the love and fondness. Really cute, really smutty, threesome warning.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Uris by @thegreatwhiteferret | Explicit

Stan is always taking care of his boys and making sure they feel loved, so for his birthday Bill and Richie decide to show him how much they love and appreciate him by fulfilling his biggest fantasy.

MY COMMENTS: This is the second part to this series but it’s optional to read the first one. If you read this in order of the list, then you’ve read the first part lmao.

Soulmate Tattoos AU by @peachyuris | Not Rated

stenbroughzier w/ soulmate tattoos!!

MY COMMENTS: The amount of pining here? Godly. Bill misunderstanding the situation? Stan and Richie feeling like something’s missing? I love this, I love them and I know you’ll love it too.

Milkshake Date by @winterstenbrough | Not Rated

stenbroughzier milkshake/diner date?

MY COMMENTS: Insecure!Richie is something used a lot, but never fails to warm my heart whenever his significant other(s) help him out. This fic also covers that aspect and is really soft, babies

#fanfic recommendation #bichie #stozier #stenbroughzier #stenbrough #stenbrough fic rec #bichie fic rec #stozier fic rec #fic rec #not my writing #fanfic masterlist

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b-listbadboy · 5 years ago

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Castlevania Season 3 was disappointing

(Spoilers for Castlevania Season 3, if you haven’t seen it yet it’s out now on Netflix. I suggest watching that first before reading this review)

I won’t say it was an awful season by any stretch of the imagination but man was it a drag to get through.

Almost nothing of significance happens for the majority of the season and the things that did happen felt extremely off and weird. 10 episodes, 25 to 30 minutes each, and every single one except for the fucking TWO LAST EPISODES were spent dicking around with a mystery that had little to do with anything from season 2 beyond a really out there twist that I’m sort of iffy on. Top that off with a lackluster arguably stupid ending to leave us off on a needless cliffhanger, and that’s the magic remedy that will leave me feeling pretty damn frustrated.

The best parts, in my opinion, were with Isaac’s massive undead crusade he was waging throughout his journey for revenge, and Trevor and Syph’s interactions with each other as well as with the little villagers. Isaac’s arc going from a servant of Dracula to slowing evolving into the master of the damned felt genuine, intriguing, and badass! I really wish he was the next main villain instead as it makes sense thematically. He carries out Dracula’s nihilistic views of humanity in a similar but now more direct way and that can lead into something really intriguing. However, for some reason, this season left him and his whole journey on a back burner, and virtually everything else that is implemented into main villain role fell flat on its face execution wise.

For example; The new vampires of this season are Camilla’s three other empress sisters, and while they do have a plethora of personality at the very least, that kind of comes at a cost of the main threat being extremely diluted. We go from this hurting sympathetic undead overlord with the power of an anchent GOD, to a couple of wicked sassy sisters who just wanna eat people forever? It’s a bit lame of a progression from what we once had, we know Vampires like to eat people that’s nothing new or exciting. There’s no real twist to it besides it being “led by women in the dark ages” and granted that makes sense here since it IS the dark ages, but come on we literally just had arguably the BEST adaptation of friggin’ Dracula! This shouldn’t be all they got moving forward from that.

Now, I have ZERO issue with the main antagonists being female or even two of the four sisters (not by blood don’t worry) being a lesbian couple. I hate that I have to emphasize this, hell I often defend Cinder Fall in RWBY more than anyone in the fandom at all despite her issues as a complex and sometimes flat out badly written character. However, The four of them in this season have the most basic of plans that it seems arbitrary status quote fluff at best. It felt like just because it’s Castlevania, we HAVE to have the vampires as the villains. Even though in the games the Belmont’s were literally fighting werewolves, dragons, skeletons, and the GRIMM REAPER??

Therefore, the sense of urgency and tense calculating plans of ‘survival vs extinction’ is completely gone. And yknow in a way, I can kinda initially SEE that working in a sort of “Empire Strikes Back” esque plot. Yknow, with Alucard and the gang go around cleaning up Dracula’s leftover horde only for Isaac or even Camilla to have this huge vengeful comeback of dominance? But there’s no one exactly “striking back” or even taking any kind of immediate initiative after Dracula’s death. It’s been MONTHS after the whole event and no one seems like they really care about that world changing event from the last two season’s. Everything is fine and dandy, no one has a single worry in the world! How enthralling...I miss Godbrand 😑

Besides the plan the four empresses have as well as Issac’s revenge, which I hope will both be more explored in season 4, no one really has any goal to warrant THAT kind of length of a season. This is more of a Netflix problem that I have with most of their shows and it’s one of the reasons why I don’t like watching them. Almost every singe show Netflix produces now, feels the need to overstuff itself with needless filler that gets us really nowhere until the very end where it SUDDENLY all comes together. But because of the nature of binge watching and considering how Netflix wants to desperately keep their subscriptions in fear of intimidating competition, they make these shows 12 episodes long with HALF HOUR OR MORE amount of filler content that’s supposed to satisfy us cause it’s “cute”?! No, stop this shit! Granted, Castlevania wasn’t nearly AS bad as the live action shows, but honestly, what exactly was shown to us that couldn’t have been reduced to like 5 solidly paced episodes focused on one or two plot lines ONLY like before? It worked perfectly back then, why change what ain’t broke?

As much as I don’t like the immediate rush of Trevor and Syph’s out of nowhere sexual relationship, I didn’t overall mind it too much since they still somewhat felt consistent. Their characteristics play off very nicely with one another and it’s pretty easy to see the chemistry between the two....HOWEVER I’M STILL GONNA COMPLAIN ABOUT IT SO HERE WE GO!

I get that they were setting them up as an endgame ship of the series, there’s no denying that, but they start fucking for what feels like (to the audience) two days after and I think that’s a bit ridiculous! Even if Alucard states that it’s been at the very least a month worth of time since the events of Season 2, there’s no real physical signs showing that statement to be true. Hell, Trevor’s beard and hair remains the same despite a HUGE passage of time where it would naturally grow out to indicate said time passing by. But both him, Syph, Alucard, and damn near everyone else looks the exact same as last season. So for all I know it could have been like a week since Season 2 and that to me doesn’t feel exactly earned. The Season 2 finale didn’t explicitly leave off Trevor and Syph officially a couple, they felt more like partners in crime more than anything else. Not to say that there wasn’t any chemistry there to develope INTO a relationship GRADUALLY, but going from a little spark of interest to the immediate jump of them sleeping together naked all comfortably as if they’re a goddamn married couple is a STRETCH! Even Trevor himself thinks so too so don’t jump down my throat about not being immediately swooned by the shipping fanservice given to us. I don’t dislike them as a couple at all, in fact I think their dynamic is cute! However, I would have also liked to have this couple feel natural and earned. They most certainly do not feel earned this way, at least to me.

Oh god, then there’s this out of nowhere sexual tension between Alucard and his new two recruits from another region hinted at in the previous season? Mind you, Alucard was doing literally NOTHING throughout the entirety of Season 3. Yep, literally the ONE DUDE WHO BASICALLY KILLED DRACULA gets about fuck all story progression afterwards out of the three. But what they DO give him are these two new vampire hunting student’s who look identical to one another (no racial they just literally look like fraternal twins) so I assumed they were either siblings or a couple, which makes it REALLY WEIRD WHEN THEY BOTH FUCK ALUCARD OUT OF NOWHERE?! I’m NOT making this shit up I promise! What makes even less sense is that it was really just a ploy for them to steal the Belmont knowledge of killing vampires to show to their people who have been enslaved. Which of course ends with them being killed so it really makes this entire conflict in his character damn near pointless besides “sad vibes check”, but here’s the thing...why didn’t they just keep doing training with Alucard?? There were virtually no downsides to having him teach you how to kill Vampires to save your village from being enslaved, he was teaching you both very well and gave you like the eternal knowledge of how to kill literally EVERY MONSTER and even let you live in the castle FOR FREE, food and wine included! What was the turning point for them to want to kill him all of the sudden? Cause he’s a vampire?? THEY FUCKING KNEW THAT ALREADY!!! Why was is suddenly not a problem at first but then coincidentally a problem now? If they wanted to use this to somehow depict this notion of “Oh my dad/Dracula was right humans are the worst” mindset, trust me, it was better conveyed with Isaac. These twins side plot not only made no sense, but also felt unjustified for Alucard to be an emo boi. I get that it’s supposed to be symbolic of him going through the same issues that both of his parents went through, but none of that really showed how bad human’s are. Just that those two twins didn’t think things through apparently. So the point of Alucard having this odd character convenience shift feels by the numbers cliché, and most importantly CHEAP.

It really makes no sense to me why they’re adding so much of this filler for such a long time, especially with some of this filler being oddly sexual. I don’t mind honest depiction of sex between consenting adults of course, but it just felt so misplaced and awkward at parts where it showed itself. I felt like I was reading a mediocre fanfic of Castlevania instead of the actual show itself! Granted, Season 2 had somewhat of a similar dilemma but the lull in between was still showing the character specifically doing things to further the story along. Towards the end, it gave us a way more satisfactory closure of that saga with Dracula that felt natural and well earned. This season however, felt like they were scrambling with different ideas here and there and didn’t know which to go with. Alucard training new recruits in his castle, Trevor and Syph figuring out an estranged (and BORING/GENERIC) cult of Dracula’s plan, Camilla setting up an army with her fellow sisterhood of evil vampires to gain ultimate power, Hector surviving captivity by using his wit and charm, Isaac raising up the dead for revenge on his deceased master, a new character introducing an all new world to the lore of Castlevania as we know it, all of these interesting concepts and ideas that could easily make up for a good season alone! And instead of focusing on one or two ideas to develope into something natural, they ended up saying “FUCK IT! Fucking I dunno what to- WE’RE DOING ALL OF IT I DUNNO!” and mixed the whole thing in a blender of different flavors that don’t necessarily blend together well enough for a tasty satisfactory meal. It just ends up being a mesh of okay at best, and gross at worst.

IN CONCLUSION, Castlevania Season 3 had a rocky start, an okay middle, and a kind of cool end. There was definitely some cool and exciting ideas implemented in here, but not enough to warrant that lengthy amount of time that Netflix seems to love to give to most of their TV shows. Sometimes less is more, and all that shiny cool glitter isn’t necessarily going to turn out to be gold. I’ll give this season a 5/10. It’s not the worst I’ve ever seen but it certainly could’ve been a lot better.

P.S. “Who Do Ya Voodoo” from Dead Island is Isaac’s new theme song, you can’t convince me otherwise.

#castlevania #season 3 spoilers #spoilers #unpopular opinion #review #netflix castlevania #critique

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vidaflxwer · 5 years ago

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norman!! of course :-)

ahhhh thank you so much for giving me an excuse to heavily dote on norman, i appreciate it!

(this post got insanely long the more i worked on it i am so unbelievably sorry in advance, i just have a lot of thoughts and feelings about my son)

favorite thing about norman: what isn’t there to love about norman is the real question? how caring he is for absolutely all of the kids? his ridiculously precious laugh? that gentle smile he always gives everyone to make them feel better? how he made sure, before he was gonna get shipped out, that emma knew of ray’s plan and could stop it because he didn’t want either of them to die if he was going to? i could go on and on. there’s so much to this kid that you can love, but i will say at the end of the day, my favorite thing about norman was how his only wish was to live a happy life with emma and ray. like can we all just take a moment to appreciate how unbelievably wholesome that is? even when he was that little, while emma wanted to get outside to ride a giraffe and ray wanted to see art museums (i believe that’s what the wiki said, please correct me if i’m wrong), norman just wanted to live with them. he loved his best friends that much already at that young of an age and i think that’s absolutely my favorite thing about him. he never really wanted much out of his life, he just wanted to be with the two people he loved more than anything and i think that’s so underappreciated? and i think it makes all of the moments the trio spends together even sweeter, because you know that’s where norman’s at his happiest. whether it be playing tag with emma or washing dishes with ray or doing chores with the both of them, norman’s just glad to be able to live with them. and that just kills me.

least favorite thing about norman: the way that he’s so willing to sacrifice himself for everyone he loves. i do love it because it makes him such a complex character - especially when you take into account that all he wants to do is live - but it shatters my heart every single time when i think about it. i guess it’s not really my least favorite thing about him, because, in all honesty, i don’t really think i could have a least favorite thing about him. i think it’s just that i know what that feels like all too well and i don’t want norman to have to suffer like that. i know i made a whole post about this on his birthday but i always wished that the promised neverland had existed when i was younger and i’d been able to find it, since i needed a character like norman in my life. i know it would’ve been so comforting for me back then to have been able to read about him. and i think this is why i cried so hard when norman finally gave up his william minerva persona. because it really is a hard thing to do, to rely on other people, when all you want to do is protect them. when all you want is for them to look at you and know that they don’t have to worry about you for a second, and that you’ll take care of everything for them. it hurts me how much i could relate to that personally. i just wish norman had learned sooner that he doesn’t have to become a god, so to speak, because it is such a hard lesson to learn and one that has an epiphany i think the promised neverland captured perfectly. so that’d be my least favorite thing about him, but i still really appreciate that his character is like that because, while i don’t want him to suffer, it resonated a lot with me.

favorite line: you see, norman has pretty much all of my favorite quotes in the entirety of the promised neverland, so picking a single one has always been really hard. back when i read the original translation, my favorite quote used to be “even if i do have the devil to pay, i don’t mind” which is no longer how that quote actually goes, unfortunately, but i loved it so much. though “bring this neverland to and end” and “that’s why i can smile as i go to meet my death” are a few of my other favorites! there’s so many more but this post’s going to get so ridiculously overwhelmed if i talk about all of them so yeah!

brOTP: i’ve talked to my sister about this before but norman and gilda deserve to interact more because i know, i just know, that if norman had escaped with them, he and gilda would’ve been the emma protection duo. like just imagine the two of them scheming ways to keep emma safe behind the scenes. i think it’d be the absolute cutest thing in the entire world so yeah, norman and gilda! i’m really sad they never got that many interactions with each other in canon but there’s always fanfiction so i’ll probably have to remedy that asap. i could also just imagine them lovingly talking about emma for hours and hours on end, just sighing with each other like, “isn’t she the best?” while ray’s just there in the background like, “why are you two like this?”. i’d also like to imagine gilda sometimes coming to norman for help when it comes to studying for the daily test and norman helping teach her in the library, and emma eventually coming in and joining in. i saw fanart once of norman with his arm around gilda so i feel like that’s what fueled this wholesome friendship but i wish they could’ve been closer friends. thank you for coming to my mini ted talk.

OTP: as much as i adore norray, the dynamic of noremma is really interesting to me and that adds a whole other layer of angst to it so i’d have to say noremma, if i had to pick one? but i love norray too. i think, for me, what was really appealing about shipping noremma when i first started shipping it wasn’t the obvious “because i love her” in the translations i read back then, but more so the scene before norman gets shipped out when he’s talking about how much he admires emma? and i believe in the letter from norman light novel, there was a section where norman talked about wanting to be more like emma and i think that’s just really ridiculously precious and hurts, in more ways than one? because he wants to believe in emma so badly but, at the same time, has this fear that her idealism might not be enough to save her in the end but if he could, he would be more like her. i think i touched upon this briefly in a fic i wrote once but i think that one of the reasons norman stopped taking that medication that was supposed to suppress whatever was wrong with him at lambda was because he didn’t want to live to see the aftermath of what he’d done to hurt emma. that’s another reason i think that his “i’ll gladly become god or the devil, emma” line is so interesting because she only ever says “you don’t have to become a god”. but he knew that his actions would hurt her, and while it seemed like in that moment he didn’t care, it was clear that he did. okay i didn’t mean to make this a whole analysis for their dynamic but basically, read my fic blindsided if you really wanna get the full understanding of why i think they’re such an interesting ship. and why norman’s love for her breaks my heart into a million pieces.

nOTP: i can’t really think of any, off the top of my head? i’m pretty lenient when it comes to ships, especially with the promised neverland, i’ve realized. i don’t know why because i used to be like, “this ship is the only good ship and actively avoid content of every other ship” but nah. especially with norman, so long as my boy’s happy and loved, that’s all i care about.

random headcanon: i have so many random headcanons about norman but this post is getting really long so i’ll just say my favorite one! it’s that norman, back at gracefield, used to be the designated bedtime storyteller. before the anime even aired, i always headcanoned that norman had this very sweet, soft voice that would lull the kids easily to sleep so i think that might’ve been where this one stemmed from. plus i’d like to think that norman just has a natural talent for storytelling. i don’t know why but i feel like he’d be able to create the most beautiful stories right on the spot and now i feel like i’m almost starting to write a fanfic so i’ll stop there but yeah! feel free to ask if you want more though because i have way too many headcanons for this boy.

unpopular opinion: i have no idea what in the heck is an unpopular opinion about norman to begin with. is saying that i liked when people used to draw him with blonde hair an unpopular opinion? can hair color even be an unpopular opinion? i don’t really know how to answer this question because i don’t know what’s an unpopular opinion about norman so i’m sorry!

song i associate with norman: sinking man by of monsters and men as of late has been my go to norman song, but lover, please stay by nothing but thieves was my original norman song. when he’s with his lambda squad though, do it all the time by i don’t know how but they found me is the perfect chaotic norman song. there

favorite picture of norman: pretty much every single picture of him smiling because it genuinely makes me sob tears of joy to see my son happy but, by far, my favorite picture has to be this one. nothing, and i mean nothing, will ever top the amount of tears i’ve shed over this panel and how ridiculously happy it makes me because just look at him! look at how happy he is! i remember the day this chapter came out and this panel broke me in the best way so it will always, always remain as my favorite picture of norman for as long as i live.

#mei rambles #tpn spoilers #jesus christ #i am so sorry to whoever asked this #i restrained myself as much as i could but oh my god this is SUCH A LONG POST

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jewpacabruhs · 5 years ago

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hi guys! so this post is gonna be a rambly mess but fuck it, here ya go. if u dont wanna read all of it, u dont have to; skip down to underneath the tl;dr in bold text for the important bits :)

(there’s a brief & non-graphic mention of a triggering topic in the next paragraph. please be sure to skip this next paragraph if the thought of suicide is going to upset you.)

alright. so i didn't share this originally, but i spent some time in a psychiatric unit this month. suicidality related. 1000% unrelated from anything online, i've just struggled with depression for a very long time & shit happens. i didn't intend to share that at all & i certainly don't want pity; i'm telling u guys bc my time in the unit was extremely eye-opening, and i have some insight to share. since i've gotten out, with the help of my newest anti-depressant (fourth time’s a charm lol), i'm seeing the world in a better light & i finally have the energy to and the interest in exploring what it has to offer, which frankly i've never had before.

with that has come the realization that i’ve come to do something very unhealthy, and i want to break out of it. and that’s how much i’ve come to rely on my fandom life. i don’t want to get too candid publicly, but mental illness took a lot from me, and i lost most of my life, my future, and my options in the last few years. next year will involve a lot of working on rebuilding things. but in the time that i let things fall to pieces around me & i absolutely couldn’t get out of bed, i had a phone and i had a laptop. so when i couldn’t get up and physically face the world, i built up a new world online.

and i don’t think that’s a completely uncommon experience. most people are able to better manage things, and evenly juggle real life with an internet life (like i did back in middle school), because most people can’t abandon their real lives entirely like i managed to; but i do think a lot of people nowadays rely on their fandom life and their fandom friends when their irl situation isn’t ideal. and that’s an excellent coping mechanism in theory, but i think it’s debilitating in the long run.

forgive me for sounding like an old person, but i’m a heavy nostalgist and a bit of an anarcho-primitivist in that i resent modern technology's influence on society - but that hasn't stopped me from letting it be a big part of my life out of accessibility. the internet kept me occupied during my low points, and i became dependent, but i've realized i don't wanna live like that anymore. i’m vaguely grateful that it usually kept me busy enough that i wasn’t thinking the bad thoughts as frequently, but more than anything, i’m resentful that my grasp on reality got lost somewhere along the way, and i let time get away from me, too. because, again, an internet life should be a fun hobby, but when it’s a lifestyle and it becomes an excuse to avoid dealing with our real lives, bc our real lives aren’t as rewarding or as exciting, then it’s unhealthy.

everything’s at our fingertips these days, but i deeply believe human interaction, fun, and fulfillment shouldn't be spoon-fed to us through a screen. it's easy access, sure, but at the end of the day, is it any way to live? compared with how much world there is to see, i’m no longer satisfied with the thought of sitting behind a screen for another five years. i used to be, when i had no hope and no drive, but not anymore. i’m not gonna let myself settle for staying busy with the thing that takes the least amount of work & movement. not only because i’m a whole ass adult who needs to start sorting my shit out for the long run, but also because i deserve better.

and it’s fucking hard! especially for those of us who are neurodivergent. i dropped out of school three fucking times due to crippling social anxiety and utter lack of ambition and energy. i lost all my friends through that (making friends post-school is hard af); the thought of having to go out and remake friends makes me wanna fucking cry. i have a hard enough time making friends online, i’ve even come to struggle with correspondence thru text & email. phone calls? outta the question. but that’s therapy shit, and i know i’ll get there. i just have to stop putting life off by staying in a comfort zone.

and it’s interesting; depression and anxiety really took everything from me, and while i was dwelling in my own misery, my adhd worsened and decided to make my entire brain revolve around my fixations, so i didn’t have to deal with my own life. can’t think about how much you wanna die and how much you can’t function in society if you’re busy thinking about a ship you like or a character you find interesting. so i latched onto the safety of that. aggressively. problem with that is that once you let your “happiness” (as much of it as you can feel in the midst of your depressive episode, anyway) revolve around an interest, that’s all you have. so you become dependent and reliant, and that’s never good, especially if you’re someone like me who feels pathetic & ridiculous when you realize it’s all you can bring yourself to care about.

and i think that’s what i realized in the psych ward (where there’s legitimately nothing to do; i did soooo much more thinking than usual, and i already think too much haha); mental illness will try to fuck up your lifestyle, so you have to eradicate the things that’ll let that happen in the first place. for example, like i said, my adhd tries to counteract my depression by making me hyperfixate and/or hyperfocus on something else to protect me from bad personal thoughts, and that’s good in theory (doing something you enjoy when you feel bad, to distract urself, is the number one most basic coping skill you learn), but i can’t do it in moderation, i let it run my life, and that’s made me worse in the long run. so i have to force myself out of that completely and not let myself fixate on things that make me happy in the short term, but don’t ultimately further me as a person. having fixations helped me through some awful times, but now i need to force myself to grow up, you know?

and while tumblr and other social media is an excellent way to indulge those fixations, it’s an aggressive enabler, in more ways than one. what i mean by that... okay, so while i’m the type of person who self-destructs while unhealthy, i do occasionally lash out. and i know some people completely explode rather than implode when they’re not doing well. and that’s how you get discourse, i think. because when mental illness makes us care much more about our interests than we ought to, and someone has a differing opinion about that interest, the instinct is of course to attack, if you’re that kind of person. i don’t think i am, but depression and boredom go hand in hand, and i might be inclined to care more about discourse than i would if i were healthy, purely because it’s entertaining and something to do.

that’s a long winded way of saying, while i stand wholeheartedly by my past positions, i do regret starting shit in the first place. i’m not the kind of person who genuinely cares about much and i have little to no sense of morality (im a chaotic neutral bastard), so the fact i was bored enough to start shit really goes against my character and says a lot about how bad i’ve been. so i apologize for all that. but, again, i think that's just what happens when something is truly your everything. and i think the chronic negativity of modern fandom is a result of how damn seriously we all take it, because we care so much and we’re so dependent. fandom’s supposed to be fun, but it’s just too damn stressful this way.

idk my point in sharing all this, but i do think it'd be cool if this kinda got yall thinking. even if you don't engage in discourse, if fandom is just one of your only consistent sources of happiness, that's not healthy either. we all gotta break out & exist more & louder & more positively. and unfortunately i think tumblr fandom (and maybe all modern fandom) is no longer a place that encourages positivity and health.

but for all my criticism, i do just wanna say how eternally grateful i am that i was fortunate enough to meet the people i call my best friends through tumblr. they're my family, truly, and all the bullshit in this fandom has been worth it simply because it brought them to me. i love them to death and i always will, even if interests change, even if we grow apart, even if we quit speaking entirely in the next few years, i love them with my whole heart in a way that transcends a simple fandom friendship and i'm so glad we bonded over sp in the first place. that’ll never change.

i will also always love south park itself. now that the cat's outta the bag about my hospital visit, i can brag about my most pathetic and obsessive accomplishment; the fact that i've never let circumstance stop me from watching a new south park as it airs, and i've now watched sp on 1) an airplane, and 2) in a psych ward. i win for most dedicated fan tbfh. dsjkf & i'll keep that tradition, and i'll still watch this stupid show til it ends! it'll always hold a special place in my heart, & kyman's still my most meaningful & long-term ship. i'll never stop loving it.

tl;dr

so, to recap; for 2020 i'm making myself step back from fandom (not just sp fandom, but fandom in general) and quit letting my world revolve around my fixations so i can enjoy the outside world a little more, mental illness be damned, and the first step is gonna be quitting tumblr. this blog won't be deleted and i may occasionally post (maybe when next season airs) but you're absolutely free to unfollow bc this'll be a mostly inactive blog. i’m also unfollowing everyone, so mutuals, please don’t take that personally.

i will, however, try to write more prolifically, bc fic writing is something i'm able to do in moderation & enjoy, and i hope to get back into it. so if you'd like, you can keep an eye out for any upcoming fanfic i may post - my ao3 is leere. i also have snapchat, instagram, & twitter my mutuals can ask for asap (bc ill be logging out for good by the afternoon of the 31st, which is tomorrow) - though i'm not very active on any of them. still, if you wanna have access to me, i’ll be there.

i want some connection to the fandom still, albeit without letting my life revolve around it, so i'll be starting a new open-to-the-public kyman discord server! the post with the invite for that will go up soon. nvm im too anxious

thank you for reading, thank you for the good times (thnks fr th mmrs), and i hope everyone has a good 2020!

#txt #mine

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forestwater87 · 5 years ago

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how can you say that, there are so many books in existence? what are your standards if none of them are sufficient?

Presumably this is in response to an ask from a while ago, in which I said I didn’t know of any books with great LGBT+ representation, and that I prefer to find that kind of rep in fanfic because it’s so prevalent. And I’ll admit I’m a little surprised at the vehemence of this response.

I mean, I’ll grant that there have been a lot of books created since the invention of . . . you know, books, but I haven’t read most of those, due to the fact that I am just one person. Throw onto that the difficulties of genre taste, the general availability of any given book at any given time, my baseline reading speed (slow; made being an English major quite the dang challenge) a limited amount of time to read for pleasure, and that I’ve barely been alive a quarter of a century, and . . . I don’t really know what you want from me, man.

I guess my standards would be “books with positive LGBT+ rep, that are in or possess genres/writing styles/stories I enjoy, that meet my particular tastes and standards, that I physically have in front of my eyeballs and have the time and inclination to read, that I can remember when my memory is notoriously bad for a variety of reasons.” Surprisingly, that’s a pretty small percentage of all the books in the world.

Go figure.

If the point of this ask was to criticize me for not having sought out more LGBT-positive books, then . . . sure. I should probably do that at some point. And in fact, I remember being disappointed by an otherwise-excellent author (she kept making her bisexual side characters slutty. It was weird) and googling “LGBT+ mysteries” a few months ago -- but then life happens. And you have to read the list of books and their summaries, decide if you wanna try them, look them up in the library catalog, request them from the library, wait for them to arrive, and then go to the library before they get tired of holding it for you and send it back (oops I just remembered a book I have out that I was supposed to pick up by today and I’m gonna have to re-request it damn it), and then read it in a timely manner (deciding whether it’s worth finishing, too, which can be a challenge sometimes), and then return it before you accrue your life’s savings in late fines . . . like, I’m just not there yet, mmkay?

And even if I was, maybe I didn’t have the spoons to give my dear friend who innocently sent that ask a comprehensive list of everything I’ve read that had an LGBT+ character in it, complete with thematic analyses and a woke score, because maybe I have a job and shit to do and just saying “I haven’t read enough to answer that question well” is a lot easier and I assumed wouldn’t draw any ire, and would probably net me some neato book recs.

I think . . . this is a really long way of telling you to go fuck yourself, anon.

I mean, I don’t see you offering up any suggestions. Which is ridiculous, because there are soooooo many books in existence! And you couldn’t even find a single measly example to recommend me?

Seems like it should’ve been real easy, is all I’m saying.

#listen i got salty for this one and i'm not entirely positive it was warranted #but also fuck you anon for making me feel bad #i'm a weak little goddamn flower and my feelings are sensitive #and also there's a lowkey shitting on fanfic implied in this ask that makes me itchy #so likeeeeee fuck off #i do want book recommendations though #i really like murder mysteries and psychological thrillers #you know the real fucked-up shit #ask forest #Anonymous

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spirit-of-the-void · 6 years ago

Text

Ebony and Ivory (V x Reader Fanfic) Chapter 19

Author’s notes: I’m back again, sluts, with a more Dante-filled chapter. Dont worry, V will be back soon

Chapter 19

(Your POV)

Chasing after Dante was, shockingly, easier than expected.

He left a convenient trail of dead demons in his wake on top of motorcycle track marks. You were moving at high speeds now, your tendrils carrying you in a blur around broken buildings and roots. You remembered now, just how fast you truly were. The power of the Void was precise and calculated, it was like having several sets of arms and hands to stabilize you and launch your body towards your destinations.

Things were definitely more chaotic here, walls of flesh and tunnels of debris weaving between the tree’s roots. Where the hell was Dante headed? He wasn’t going directly toward the tree, but more off to the side. You wracked your brain, trying to imagine what was on this half of the craters but unsure of what he was going for.

The only thing you could imagine that way was the very same house V had pointed out to you, his childhood home. But why would Dante be going there? It didn’t really make any sense. The landscape was so trash, and you literally knew nothing about Dante to even try and discern his motives.

Still, you gave chase, keeping your eyes peeled for Griffon along the way. You had no idea how far along the bird was, but you would feel better if you at least had him near you. This area was definitely not the safest to be traveling in, not that there was a single demon to be had. Lucky for you, because you didn’t want to waste any unnecessary time.

Other things were still rattling in your skull.

Your mind was still racing, heart hurting as you thought of V back with Trish. You had said something so deeply personally to him, then bounced before having to face his reaction. It was...both exhilarating and terrifying. You most certainly didn’t regret saying it to him...it needed to be said at some point. Nor did you blame him for not saying it back, especially since you never gave him the chance to. You were more easily attached than he, more prone to deep emotion. Mind you...V’s feelings toward you were never doubted, but he deserved time to think about it without you there clouding his thought. But his well-being never left your mind, worry clawing at you deep in your skin with each passing minute.

You prayed he would be alright. You wouldn’t be gone from him too long, that you were certain of.

It was unfortunate that you were already traveling alone for an hour, practically bouncing your way over each hurdle and area as fast as you could. Through a cavern under a statue, through areas Dante had already opened. This was getting ridiculous. Why was every path painstakingly extra? All of this foolery wasn't need at the bottom of a god damn tree, that was for sure. But it made sense that things would be far more fucked up at the Qliphoth base where it had been the longest, festering like a disease. You just didn’t have to like it, that was all.

More traveling, more panic, more worrying. But you were getting closer, you were sure. Especially so when you saw Griffon’s familiar blue feathers in the air ahead of you.

Thank god. Traveling by yourself was going to make you go absolutely insane.

“Griffon...!” You yelled, making the bird halt a bit and whip his head around to look at you. He looked shocked, his beak popping open when you extended your tendrils, gently wrapping them around him and pulling him to your chest as you leap into the air. You were faster than he was anyway.

“Toots?!” He squawked, tucked against you kind of how a child would be, “What the hell are you doing here?! Why aren’t you with Shakespeare?!”

Just the mention of it made you wince, flinching a bit as you recalled the poet left alone, his assistance cut in half now that you and Griffon were gone.

“He told me to go after Dante...!” You said in a clearly worried tone, unhappiness in your expression as you maneuvered him and yourself around more broken building pieces, “And he wouldn’t take no for an answer!”

Griffon let out an annoyed huff at that, his feathers puffing out against your chest, “What a fucking dumbass. He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

He was most certainly preaching to the choir.

“I tried to tell him...he wouldn’t listen to me,” You mumbled, pressing your chin to the top of Griffon’s head as you finally entered open air. Thank god, no more tunnels, “I didn’t want to go in the first place, I’m worried about him.”

Griffon went a bit quiet at that, which was unusual for him. You tried to steady your eyes forward, keeping track of the small amounts of energy you were exerting. Not much, nothing that impacted your ability to heal. Moving with the tendrils required practically nothing, something your body stayed accustomed to. Like riding a bike.

Though traveling without V felt...bad, lonely despite the fact that Griffon was with you. As much as you loved and adored the bird, there was a Void he couldn’t fill, so to speak. One shaped like a tall, lanky poet in sandals. You knew it sounded silly; you had been away for just an hour. But it was less of missing him and more than painful, overwhelming fear that something bad would happen to him. Your protective streak would never leave, and it was practically clinging to your back now.

You traveled a couple moments in silence still, Griffon's lack of speech only a small worry in the back of your mind.

When he spoke, it seemed heavily reluctant.

“Ahh, fuck,” He muttered, beak tilted down and talons flexing a bit as he struggled with his words, “I think I need to apologize to you, and I’m really shitty at apologies.”

You blinked in surprise at that, wrapping an arm around him to brace him as you skidding over the ground, narrowly missing some shattered trees and debris. The terrain was hard to get through here.

“For what?” You asked quietly, landing on your feet and settling on a brisk jog as you made your way up a hill.

He paused again, making confusion prickle at the back of your mind as he took another moment to gather his words.

“F...for not warning you about Shakespeare,” He mumbled, unable to meet your eyes as his feathers puffed out a bit more. Like he wanted to hide, “You didn’t deserve to find out that way, like that and shit. I knew he was going to start falling apart but I half hoped his dumb ass would make it up the tree before that.”

That made your feet falter, heart thudding painfully once it clicked what Griffon was apologizing about. You had forgotten the look Griffon had worn those few times you had spoken, that knowing expression. You realized pretty quick that he knew, so that wasn’t a shock. But...his guilt was. He sounded unhappy with himself, unhappy with his choice of omission to you. What were you supposed to say? Part of you felt like you should be upset, but...there was too much at stake, too much to worry about other than that.

“It’s...okay.” You replied hesitantly, unable to formulate your own feelings.

“The fuck it is...!” Griffon squawked angrily, whipping around to snap his beak by your ear, “You need to start standing up for yourself, girlie...! I knew how you felt but I still didn’t say shit! You should be mad about that, damn it!”

He...had a point in there, somewhere. But you had the feeling he wanted you to be mad just to help ease his guilt

“I...I know...” You mumbled, leaning your head back to avoid his angry snapping, “But you’re my friend...and I don’t like being upset with you about something that doesn’t matter, not now.”

Griffon let out a pained groan at that, leaning his head back dramatically and exposing the lighter colored feathers on his throat.

“Fuck, now I feel worse,” He hissed, sounding half way exasperated and half was frustrated, “I tell you I withheld shit from you and you say we’re friends and wanna smooch and make up...!”

That kind of made you smile, just seeing his over-dramatic display of suffering. You could tell Griffon was trying, in his own asshole-ish way. You doubted the bird had to ever apologize for anything before in his life, nor did you think he ever wanted to. It made you feel a bit better about everything, as if it somehow confirmed Griffon actually did care.

So you leaned forward, giving him a small kiss on his head and making him scrunch up a bit. Huffy as always, but you didn’t care.

“There,” You replied, starting forward again and setting his grumbling form on your shoulders, “I kissed, we made up. Deal?”

He let out another annoyed sound, but he looked secretly pleased. He was a lot easier to read than V was, that was for sure.

“Still,” He muttered, tone sounding hesitant and quiet as he continued hurriedly, “You should know toots, about Shakespeare—”

But you weren’t paying attention.

You spotted Dante’s form as soon as you crested the hill. With that silvery-white hair he was easy to see, along with his red jacket and giant god damn sword. He didn’t seem to notice you or the bird, strolling leisurely toward...the house. The one V had shown you before, his childhood home. You had been correct in your assumptions, this was indeed Dante’s destination, but...why? There of all places, a crumbling mansion now that you were seeing it up close. A portrait was hanging in the crumbling foyer still, dirtied and sullied by time.

You could barely make out the face of a woman, who you assumed to be V’s mother. Maybe? There looked to be a man in the photo, sitting with the family but his face was blackened by a past fire. With the woman was...two children? At least what you could make out—the portrait seemed so old, especially for a day and age of photography and technology. Maybe their mother had it done custom? Or maybe the portrait wasn’t of them at all, maybe it was some random painting the family kept hanging in their foyer because it looked nice. But that didn’t feel right either, especially since both boys had white hair.

Two boys with white hair. Did V have a brother? He never admitted it, never mentioned it. But you looked at Dante, eyeing his own white locks as about a thousand questions traveled through you. Were...Dante and V related? Hell, Nero had white hair too. And that seemed like a pretty unique genetic trait. The more you thought about it, the less it made sense. V was super young still, like around the same age as Nero, whereas Dante looked to be in his forties at most. The boys in the portrait seemed to be twins, at least they looked pretty similar in age.

Ancestors maybe? This was a mess.

Regardless, you had something to do here.

“Dante...!” You yelled, cutting off whatever Griffon was going to say as you started running closer, “Wait...!”

The Devil hunter paused at the sound of your voice, turning slightly so side eye you and the bird as you caught up to him. He looked bemused, albeit exasperated to see you. Despite all the demons he obviously had to fight to get here, he was free of scratches or wounds of any kind. Either he was a great fighter, or he had some seriously great healing skill. Or both.

“You just don’t give up the chase, do you?” He commented, turning and crossing his arms over his chest.

He definitely didn't seem happy that you and V were prone to not listening to him, that was for sure. It was hard for you to care in that moment, especially after following his trail for so long.

You mimicked the pose, letting out a heavy sigh as you replied, “No I don’t, not after chasing you for this damn long.”

It was about to hit the two-hour mark, and you weren’t happy about it in the slightest bit. Giving chase definitely wasn’t your favorite thing, and it was beginning to rain again to top it all off. You were willing to drag Dante back kicking and screaming if you had to. But...your Foresight did not like that. At all.

The moment the thought entered your head, it sent a warning jolt through your body, making you grunt a bit and touch your abdomen. What the hell, you weren’t supposed to stop Dante from leaving? Then why had your Foresight not told you that before you came all the way here? It made no sense. It made no sense. You couldn’t remember a mission where the power had been this indecisive, this inconsistent.

It was starting to piss you off.

Dante’s voice jarred you from the cascading anger at your own body, the man seeming oblivious to your internal conflict.

“Why are you following me anyway?” He asked, shaking some of the water droplets from his hair and turning his gaze away. He sounded overly nonchalant, tone ever lazy and bemused, “You seemed pretty friendly with that poet back there, so why come after me?”

You let out a low sigh, feeling incredibly strung out as you replied, “Because V asked me to. You shouldn’t be going up the tree alone anyway, not with how dangerous it is.”

You were trying really hard to figure out Dante, what kind of person he was. What made him tick. He seemingly showed no reaction to your words, other than tilting his head back to look at you again. His eyes confused you—they were wise somehow, on a face that seemed anything but. You felt like the Devil hunter was searching your face, sizing you up with a single glance. It made you a bit uncomfortable, that sensation of your secrets hiding on your spine returning once more.

“Someone has to stop the kid from killing himself,” He replied simply, turning to walk forward into the derelict mansion again, “Dontcha think?”

You reached out a hand, grabbing his arm to halt him as you protested, “Yeah but these things would be easier if we all stayed together...!” You were willing to bet Dante was the reason the group split up so damn much, it was driving you up a wall. Why was it so hard for everyone to just work together to reach a common goal?

Your Foresight didn’t like you touching Dante, not one bit. Or maybe it didn’t like you stopping him? Either way, it made a jolt of pain shoot up your abdomen to your chest, making you wince. Dante seemed to not notice, either that or he didn’t show any sign of it. Instead, he sighed, looking somewhat annoyed now as he looked at you. Impertinence was there behind that smirk, his brow slightly furrowed.

“And just what do you gain out of this, Miss Priestess?” He asked, raising a brow in your direction. The name made you jolt, remembering that Dante was not as oblivious as he seemed.

He knew what you were, and that was another concern you had.

“What do you mean?” You asked warily, frowning at the overly chipper tone he used. It definitely sounded close to taunting, at least to your ears.

Dante put his hands on his hips, rain water dripping over those white locks and causing them to stick to his rugged face.

“I know your kind,” He said simply, shrugging his shoulders and eyeing you with a bit of a smirk in his expression. That tone was condescending, taunting as he let out a light laugh, “What does the boss upstairs want out of this world? To lay a claim if everything falls apart? To snatch the fruit that tree is gonna grow?”

The boss upstairs...he must have meant the Deity. Who was less “upstairs” and more in between everything. Still, what he was saying struck a chord of annoyance with you, especially since it sounded pretty damn accusatory.

You blinked in confusion, holding up your hands as you replied indignantly, “I don't know what you're implying, but my Deity doesn’t want anything...!”

Dante scoffed lightly at that, inclining his head as he replied, “Every ‘Deity’ wants somethin’.”

He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. And worse, he was bringing all your doubting back, all the horrible thoughts that refused to leave you. Anxiety was bubbling up again, threatening to choke you like bile rising in your throat. Already volatile, you felt like a bomb getting ready to tick off. You definitly had your doubts about your Deity, questions that were going unanswered and no sign of your master at all to guide you. It was already maddening and breaking you down, so Dante’s implications were both unneeded and unwanted.

Griffon had been with you long enough to sense your moods, eyes darting between you and Dante as he said in a warning tone, “Dante, you’d better lay off.”

Dante turned, pointing a single, warning finger at Griffon’s avian features as he replied, "Flock off, feather face.”

You fought another sigh. Things were only getting more out of hand, but it was under your skin now. An itch you couldn’t ignore.

“You don’t know a damn thing about what my Deity wants," You told him, feeling even more unhappy that you had come to find him. What the hell was even the point, wasting time like this? "I have better things to do than sitting here arguing with you...!”

V was still alone, and he was crumbling. Your Foresight was telling you not to stop Dante, or else. So why bother staying here letting him shit talk things he didn’t understand? You half turned your body again, ready to summon your tendrils outward to bounce away. If Dante wanted to do things on his own and get himself killed, he could be stubborn all he wanted. You would focus on the people that mattered. Like V, Nero, Lady, Nico.

But the devil hunter wasn’t done.

He let out a low hum, his tone almost pleasant and conversational as he added, “So tell me. What do you serve to gain by using Mister Poet back there?”

Your blood ran cold. Very very cold.

“...Excuse me?” You whispered, blinking in shock and not understanding exactly what he was implying as you turned back to look at his face.

He shrugged his shoulders again, crossing his arms as his blue eyes locked with yours.

“You heard me,” He replied, his expression taking on a more serious look as he continued, “You seem chummy with V, but I know your type. You’d do the same for anyone if it meant getting what your big bad God wants.”

Your mouth popped open in shock.

Indignation, anger, and pain all ripped through you. It became pretty god damn clear what he was implying, and it stung like nothing else. He thought you were using V, pretending to care about him just to succeed in your mission. You were determined to get close to people at first, but romance was never something you would fake for results. Hell, you didn’t fake liking anyone if it wasn’t genuine. To have him look you in the face and accuse you of such a thing made your blood boil and eyes burn.

You could not cry, not now.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me...!” You replied, tone low and promising violence as you balled up your fists, “I’m not using V for anything...!”

“’Ya see, that’s where I don’t believe you,” Dante clicked his tongue, turning away from you and starting for the house again, “You priestess types are all the same. Though screwing a dying man to get what you want is pretty harsh, all things considered. Gotta give him something in return for using him, right?”

You had enough.

Your tendrils whipped out in the next instant, grabbing every part of Dante you could reach and slamming him to the ground. You were shocked, he put up no resistance at all in the face of your rage. He didn’t even look surprised when you whipped him around, your own face filled with so many emotions you weren’t sure what to focus on. Anger, pain, fear, more anger.

Your day had been an avalanche of misery after a night of some of the only happiness you had tasted in such a long time. The man you cared about was dying, and you sure didn’t fucking appreciate Dante’s harsh words when things were so dire. How he even knew about you having sex with V, you didn’t know. Maybe he guessed. But his guesses were unwanted.

Your hand cracked against his face in a fluid motion, making him let out a grunt but he was still smirking lightly. It all happened so fast. Grabbing him, flipping him, hitting him. It felt less than a second. But you didn’t care.

How dare he. How dare he imply that you would give yourself to V for the sake of doing what your Deity wanted? You weren’t a whore to sell yourself to people at a God’s bidding. V was everything, and he mattered to you more than the mission itself. Hell, you didn’t know there was something wrong with him at the time, something that would mean his death. And knowing so now was agonizing, breaking you down and leaving you in a state of non-stop dread. V made you happy, and things that made you happy always ended up snatched away.

Your eyes turned black with your rage, hair raising slightly and tendrils twitching sporadically. Your Foresight was screaming at you, telling you to stop and let him go. Agonizing, making your limbs weak and tendrils uncontrollable. That tipped you off pretty fast that Dante wasn’t fighting back on purpose--he could easily escape in the state you were in right at that moment. You were fighting your own body, your own rage just to be able to make a point to the Devil Hunter.

You hated how emotional you were, but that was only par for the course as you gripped Dante’s coat and yanked him up.

“Don’t you presume to know a damn thing about me...!” You hissed, eyes burning with tears that slid down your cheeks against your will. God damn it. God damn it, “You don’t know anything about what I feel about him, or how much he means to me...!”

Dante stayed quiet, staring at you with a neutral expression as your aching hands began to shake.

Griffon was squawking in alarm, his talons gripping your shoulders and trying to haul you back as he screeched, “Not a good idea, toots...! Back off, he isn’t worth it...!”

You didn’t care. And you wouldn’t be swayed.

“If I had my way I wouldn’t even be here talking to you...!” Your voice was growing hoarse now with your tears, panting breaths leaving you as the pain continued, “He has no one else but me in this fucking hell, no one else who cares! Yet I came after you because he asked me to and you...you...”

To disregard what you felt so heavily, what tore you up inside. Brush it off like it was dust settling on his shoulders. It stung far too much.

How were you expected to change anything when it felt like everything wanted to stop you?

“I love him.” You whispered, head slumping on your shoulders as you finally released Dante, sitting back on your legs as the pain finally subsided. You couldn’t see his expression, couldn’t see anything but rain dripping from your locks. But it didn’t matter, you didn’t feel like you were talking to him now anyway. He was of little consequence, all things considered.

“I love him and he’s dying. And that’s not fair.”

Nothing ever is. That’s why you sold your soul, isn’t it?

Dante was quiet for a couple more seconds, letting out a hefty sigh as he sat up. Your tendrils dropped away from him, returning back to your body as the Void power simmered to a dull roar. You didn’t know what to say now, what to feel after such an outburst. You weren’t used to losing your cool and lashing out like that.

Perhaps you were learning a lot of new things about yourself with everything that was going on. That feeling came back, the feeling of wanting to go home but having no home to go to. V felt like home to you, and losing him would break you more than you realized. What were you supposed to do? You could barely handle things now, when he wasn’t even gone. Holding onto hope was hard, but you were trying.

Much to your shock, you felt Dante place a hand on your hair, giving you a comforting pat on the head. You blinked, breath catching at the action. It felt like something a dad should do, something you certainly didn’t expect from the demon hunter.

“I’ve learned all I needed to know,” He said simply, rising to his feet and extending a hand to you, “Sorry about how harsh I was, but sometimes that’s the best way to learn someone’s true intentions.”

You blinked more, looking at his hand then up at him. He was smiling again, but there was a concerned look in his eyes once they met yours. You were so confused, and it definitely showed on your face.

“You...were trying to get a reaction from me?” You whispered, tone still raw and eyes going back to normal now that your power was settling, “But...why?”

Dante let out a light sigh, scratching the back of his head with his free hand.

“Some servants of higher ups can be skeevy,” He huffed, rubbing his cheek you had struck and wearing a bit of a bemused smile, “Hard to disbelieve you when you react like that. You’ve got a mean right hook on you, kid.”

So...all that was a test to see if you felt how you truly said you did? You hesitantly took his free hand, wiping your eyes with your other. You were settling down now, but you still weren’t happy with how Dante went about doing it. But...he was right to mistrust the servants of gods—you had met a few less than savory ones yourself. They tended not to like people like you, who obeyed the beings that existed in between spaces. Trickery and deceit was at its finest when it came to working alongside priests and priestesses from other pantheons, especially ones specifically aligned with the notorious “good” and “evil” gods. Such alignments were bullshit, both sides would throw you under the bus to reach their goal.

You weren’t like that.

“Sorry...” You muttered to Dante, releasing his hand once he helped you up, “But...I haven’t had the best day today, and you really didn’t help.” You weren’t having the best existence, to be honest.

“People show their true colors when pressed to a wall,” Dante rolled his shoulders a bit, testing his muscles after you had flung him around. You knew damn well he held back on purpose. Had he actually retaliated against you when you attacked...He would have wiped the floor with you, “Consider us even now. No hard feelings.”

You nodded, but you weren’t sure how else to reply. Griffon landed on your shoulders again, letting out a relieved sigh as he looked between you and the demon hunter. You were willing to bet that little situation had certainly ruffled his feathers, that was for sure.

Dante seemed a tad bit amused by how the bird acted around you, but that amusement faded when he let out another hefty sigh.

“This isn’t your fight, kid,” Dante told you, face turning a bit serious before he went to turn away, “Go back to the poet and make sure he's alright. Shit still has time to work out—I've been surprised before.”

You blinked at that, taking a few steps after him as he entered the house. It was crumbling apart, decaying around the edges where it looked like fire struck. What the hell had happened that day, when V was a child? You could see just hints of a happy life here, beneath the soot and decay. It made you ache, seeing something so lived in now an empty husk resting on the edge of the world. Dante didn’t seem oblivious to it, staring around at the mansion's remains with something akin to wistfulness. Like he was remembering something. But...why? Especially when V had said this was his childhood home?

There were so many things you didn’t know.

“Dante...?” You said hesitantly, hanging back as he turned and gazed at the former home, “What are you going to do?”

He didn’t answer your question, turning back and looking at the portrait you saw earlier.

“A demonic power was activated in me once,” He said, pulling out what looked to be a broken sword from behind his coat. It seemed to be demonic in origin too, the blade snapped off and leaving only jagged edges behind, “When Vergil lovingly jammed this through my chest.”

...Vergil?

Who was Vergil?

You blinked in confusion, looking at Griffon with a questioning stare. That name felt...strange. It elicited a strange twinge up your spine. Familiar, but also not. Had someone mentioned the name before this? You...couldn’t remember. You had hoped Griffon would bring some clarity. But the bird was staring at Dante, water dripping from his sapphire feathers.

“I always wondered...why did my father give me the Rebellion?” Dante muttered, his voice barely audible to you as he palmed the sword in hand.

Was it named the Rebellion...? People in this word seemed big on naming swords, and it was confusing for you to keep up with. And better yet, who was Dante’s father? It seemed heavily relevant, at least to him in his own little world.

Griffon let out a confused sound too, hopping off your shoulders so he could fly over to Dante and circle him, “Okay, what are you muttering?” He asked, eyeing the demon hunter warily. He kept further than an arms length, making sure he wasn’t grabbed again.

Dante let out a light, breathy chuckle, sounding pretty rueful as he looked at Griffon. Completely ignoring his question, mind you.

“Over the years I’ve been stabbed and jabbed by a number of things,” He commented, lifting the hilt of the broken blade and staring at it with a faraway look, “But who would have guessed...”

You were completely unprepared when he flipped it around, stabbing the remainder of the blade hard into his abdomen.

Shock and panic filled you, eyes wide as the Demon hunter stumbled back, letting out a pained grunt as some of his own blood pattered onto the wet floor. What in the world was he doing?! You couldn’t even open your mouth to ask, absolutely stunned into silence as Dante panted, obviously in pain from stabbing himself. Just when you thought you had the demon hunter figured out, he completely scrambled your opinions of him all over again. Dante was an enigma, one you were afraid had just mortally fucking wounded himself when you all needed him the most. What the hell was going on?

Things were getting way too insane.

Griffon was, luckily, more composed than you. He echoed exactly what you were thinking...with his own flare.

“Have you lost your mind?!” He shrieked, flapping wildly as he hovered around the bent-over demon hunter, “There’s a demon to destroy...! Kill yourself later—I'll help...!”

Your mouth opened as well, letting out a shocked whisper of, “Dante...!”

But something was happening.

Dante was panting, teeth grinding in agony as he lifted his head. His hands were still clutching the sword, impaled into his body like it was nothing.

“If the Yamato can separate man from devil,” He gritted out, seeming oblivious to both of you, “Then what about the Rebellion?”

He twisted the blade harder into his flesh, letting out an agonized grunt as the sword began to glow. Brighter and brighter like fire, disintegrating into his body. Absorbed into it. That fire spread out in spider-webbing energy trails over him, all the way to his back where the Devil Sword Sparda rested. You stared in shock and awe, taking a few steps back while Dante stood, panting as his energy grew and grew, until the air was crackling with it.

What the hell was happening? The Devil sword began to disintegrate too, sucked into Dante’s glowing form until it was gone completely. Your Void sense rolled and toiled in warning, signaling you to get the fuck out of the way before something bad happened.

Signaling to you that Dante was doing something downright fucking amazing. Dangerously amazing.

But Griffon wasn’t aware, staring at Dante with the same shock and awe you felt.

“Wow...” He said in a low tone, flapping his wings to keep him hovering in air as he rasped, “You are...absorbing the Sparda...!”

You felt the energy cultivate around Dante’s form, telling you plain and clear it was time to move. Your tendrils shot out, grabbing Griffon and yanking him to your chest just as you dipped behind a wall to shield you both. Energy crackled out in the next instant, sending out a shock wave that rumbled through the Earth and the structure still standing against the rain. The Void power spiked, hating the sensation of an opposing energy type as it practically wrapped around the entire area. You panted lightly, rain dripping down your face and hair as you held a startled bird against you, both of you peeking out to see what happened.

Boy, were you absolutely stunned.

In the place of Dante was what could only equate to a demon. Sharp claws, fire licking parts of his glowing body with spikes and horns. It looked like he was armored, any trace of the familiar demon-hunters face now gone. You blinked, staring in shock as he turned slightly to look at you, his face completely different. Sharp teeth, flaming eyes...it was terrifying and incredible, you weren’t sure what to think, what to say, what to do. Dante was a half demon, that had already been explained to you. But no one had mentioned Dante being able to take on a demonic form, not unless this was new and unique to him stabbing himself and absorbing the Devil Sword Sparda?

At least you knew not to touch Dante in this form. Your Void power was pretty firm on that, and the power of Sparda certainly didn’t like you either.

Regardless, you stared at Dante’s panting, growling for. Unable to move an inch as he turned away. He bent his knees, leathery wings stretching out in a telltale sign of him getting ready to fly. You ducked back behind the debris to avoid the shock wave from that, wood and rocks flying out when he shot off from the ground, into the sky. You gasped, stepping out with water dripping into your eyes as you stared at him spiraling up toward the top of the Qliphoth. Holy shit. There was no way you could follow that, not now after running all the way here.

But Griffon could.

You released the bird, feeling him push off against you and shoot into the sky after Dante. Slower, panting in annoyance as he did so.

“Go back to Shakespeare!” He yelled down to you, not stopping as he arced into the sky. Pretty gracefully, in your opinion, “You get his sorry ass to the tree! We’ll meet you there...!”

You nodded once, activating your tendrils again as you yelled back at him, “Be safe, Griffon...!”

He didn’t respond, but then again you weren’t sticking around to hear it anyway.

You had a bad feeling that shit was about to go down, energy bursting out of you as your tendrils whipped out again, bringing you in the direction of V. You activated your senses, eyes turning black to search out the whale oil you knew he had. Everything was swirling in your head now, the day’s events certainly startling and a lot to handle. But you kept moving, able to tell where V was right away and making haste to get there. He wasn’t where you left him, probably moving forward with Trish once she woke up. You hoped the poor woman could find clothes; nothing would suck more than walking around in just a blanket.

You also prayed she would be able to help V in your absence. It would take less time to get to them than it did Dante, so there was that at least. They were headed for the base of the tree, and those paths intersected at some point.

You gritted your teeth, feeling the energy inside toil harder and faster now that you were free from having to chase Dante. You felt like you were exceeding your limits more, still growing now that things were so dire. Ready for anything, at least. You wanted to return to V, wanted to make sure he was safe and not crumbling again. Griffon was a smart bird, but you worried for him too, heading up the Qliphoth to chase after Dante. What were you supposed to feel in that moment? You didn’t want to go numb to it all, but you felt like you had no choice.

There was so much going on. So much to do. So much at stake. But still, you pressed onward, heart-pounding as you sought to be reunited with your poet once more.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18136193/chapters/43974313

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Tagged: @nightshadow4713 @slightlylunatic @silentwhispofhope @just-call-me-no-name @efiicitia @raveninthevoid

#devil may cry v #devil may cry #dmc v #dmc5 #dmcv #V dmc #V x reader #v x self insert #fanfic #chapter 19 #Ebony and Ivory #ebony and ivory chapter 19

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