#not sure i really have an excuse for this other than i wanted to see noct's pretty pretty face

[siri-ike]

"Nightwing, report."

"He woke up again. He was much better physically, but he still didn't recognize anyone." Dick rattled off roboticly. "He tried to jump out the window, so I sedated him. Temperature's come down, and he hasn't thrown up or seized in 3 days. But-" He hesitated for a moment.

"But?"

"It's, ah, it seems that, he. Well, he -looks-, a, a bit, uhm, shorter. Than he was." Nightwing forced out. "I could just be mistaking. But, the first time I cleaned him, he had a few baby chest hairs, and now he's soft as a newborn. His cheeks also look a little bit fuller."

"..."

Bruce was right: Dick hadn't been sleeping, and it showed. He must just be seeing things. "How are things on your side?"

"The Fentons have been arrested, we found their other clones, they were, unviable." B's voice faltered, Dick guessed he had had to speed up their decomposition rather than let them die slowly. "We found their daughter, too. She's agreed to come back with us." At least there's some good news. "Still no lead on who the other cloning expert was. We're looking into all the Fentons' current and former friends with a science background." Batman sounded tired, too. They were supposed to have a hotel room, but Alfred wasn't there to force them to sleep. Not that Nightwing had any room to judge.

"Are there any Vlads on that list?"

"Yes, three." B responded.

"Danny keeps thinking someone named Vlad is taking care of him or holding him hostage or something. Start with those. And you better not be making Dami stay awake as long as you are."

"Copy." Click. Avoiding, out of all his brothers, Damian is surprisingly the best at keeping a healthy routine. But that all goes out the window whenever he falls for one of B's obsessions. Dick's been there, remembers what it's like.

"You ought to take your own advice."

Dick spun around from the batcomputer. "Alfred." He delighted. "You're back."

"Am I?" He sassed. "What a perfect excuse for you to take a break." He stepped closer. "Take a shower, I'll prepare some "fast food"." He joked. Alfred's version of "fast food" was food they could eat quickly and with little mess. Things like crustless sandwiches and baked buns.

Dick glanced back at the computer. He should stop. He knows he should stop. Just stop. But it felt like he was velcroed to the screen. He tore himself away and went with Alfred. It's this exact kind of work ethic he doesn't want for his brothers. It's too late for him, and it's definitely too late for Tim. Jason and Cass have separate problems. Steph seems to be 50/50. But he had such high hopes for Damian. And now there's Danny, who, from what he could tell, was already prone to overworking himself. "When he gets better, do you think he'll stay?" Groggily, Dick dared to ask. Alfred will be understanding. He always is. It was something Dick had tried most of his life to emulate.

"Ready to be a big brother again, master Dick?" He smiled proudly, yet teasingly.

"No."

Silence.

"If he had nowhere else to go, then ofcorse he can stay, but, every time he wakes up, he, sounds relieved. And he's always convinced he's with Vlad. Maybe Vlad is a comforting figure to him. Maybe he does have somewhere to go." He paused. "No one should live like us."

The air was heavy. Mostly with guilt.

"If the boy wants to go back, I'm certain he will do so. Whether or not we want him to. And I know you know that too. So what is this really about?" Hard to fool the original.

Dick's face went through seemingly every emotion before he spoke. "It hurts... I rub his back when he throws up, I change his sheets when he sweats through them, I make sure he gets all the nutrients he needs, but every time he sees me, he just gets scared. I'm worse than a stranger to him, I'm an intruder, sometimes a kidnapper. One time, he woke up, and he was so sure that I was keeping him there as a backup body. And, and every time I hear the monitor-. I dread going up there... I shouldn't think these things. He's sick. He needs help. It's not his fault. he's-"

"That doesn't mean you can't be frustrated." Alfred cut him off. "Emotions aren't right or wrong. They just are." He stopped infront of Dicks bedroom, and handed him a food bar. "Shower, sleep, in two hours, I will retrieve you for dinner."

Dick considered the door for a moment. "Could you check on Danny for me? He usually wakes up at 4:43 in the afternoon. He tends to have a better reaction if he's left alone for a while first."

"Duly noted."

Dick didn't bother showering. He went straight for his bed. Didn't even finish his food bar.

Alfred checked his pocket watch. 5pm on the dot. Well, he was already in the family wing. He made sure not to step in the ecto juice spot that keeps popping up where the opposite Danny keeps dying.

There was a list of possibilities Alfred expected to see upon entering Danny's room. At first, he thought he might have hidden, but the trail of wet footprints from the bathroom told him otherwise.

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[genderqueerdykes]

TW: Transphobia, intentional misgendering/mentions of abuse, gaslighting, and generally gross behavior. You asked for experiences from transmasc people, so, here I am. I'm a transmasc person. Still figuring out what kind of person that is, but... I'm transmasc, which is what matters here. I've been told a LOT of harmful things in the community, both from abusers and from friends(who I no longer talk to). This is my experience. My first real experience with all of this was from a shitty ex, who at that point controlled my life and had identified as bi since he was 12. He denied me the ability to transition (I couldn't drive myself to the doctor and had no money to pay for more than the prescription), saying that I would turn into a monster and break up with him, abuse him, become violent, etc. He pressured me into using she/her pronouns along with he/they. I used genderfluid transmasc at the time as my labels, and he used this as an excuse to proudly call me "his wife in training", saying that because I didn't bind half the time, I was practically a woman. I'm now in therapy because while the term genderfluid fits, I legitimately get panicked when I try to use it because not only did he use it against me, but people used it to... detransify me. De-masc me.

Now, I'm a feminine person in some respects. I like a good accessory and bright colors and cute things. But because I wasn't performing hypermasculinity to become "a true man", people used genderfluid as a term to say "Well, clearly you're fine with female pronouns and terms because you wear earrings/paint your nails, and genderfluid falls in the scale of woman, so I'll just call you woman." People used the term so often to de-transify me, ESPECIALLY in the community.

When out and about, it does not matter if I have he/him or they/them pins on- people, even queer people, CONSISTENTLY read me as transfeminine even though I'm the opposite. I love trans women, but that's not what I am- and to be agressively labeled female by people who mean well and aggressively labeled male in a "you're just a monster masquerading as a female" way from strangers who are transphobic feels like absolute dogshit.

I'm nervous about top surgery sometime this year or next year. I want to keep a little bit of my chest, because I'm a larger person- but I'm legitimately worried my doctor will go against my wishes and give me a bird chest or carve out too much. I want top surgery not only because it will make me feel more like myself, but because my stupid chest is what EVERYONE points to- queer or non- and says that "but you have that, shouldn't you enjoy it?"

Being labeled a faker, a potential monster in the making, as someone who's just confused, and worst of all, being labeled as someone who didn't know what my own label meant... it's worn me down. I'm not sure what to do with myself, and am in gender therapy to unpack the trauma of what other people have placed onto me, both queer and cishet alike. I have quite a few understanding, loving friends in the community- but there have been just as many people who haven't understood and try to fit me into a box until I bled.

This stuff isn't just "oh silly transmasc! That's part of the experience! You just have to deal with it!" I don't, actually. And I refuse to. I refuse to give up the things I love for other people's assumptions of my body, label or identity. Even if it hurts to fight back, I'm tired of letting transphobes inside and outside our community harm me based on what THEY think I should be. This is my story. Sorry if it's bleak, but... that's the truth. I hope it helps others see that blaming us for all the harm the community faces, and making us into your blank dolls to play with, breaks us. It's awful. Please, treat us better. We deserve better. We always have.

Thank you for letting us share our stories.

thank you for taking the time to type this out and share, i really appreciate it. this is very insightful and important. i can't believe how awful people are to you. that shouldn't be happening. i don't want to take away from your story so i'll keep it brief

people, even queer people, CONSISTENTLY read me as transfeminine even though I'm the opposite. I love trans women, but that's not what I am- and to be agressively labeled female by people who mean well and aggressively labeled male in a "you're just a monster masquerading as a female" way from strangers who are transphobic feels like absolute dogshit.

this happens so often. this is what i mean when i say that trans men and mascs are also affected by transmisogyny. many people mistake trans men and mascs for trans women and transfems. it's a real thing and we need to acknowledge it.

[charmac]

than copy-paste my ask w/out the stuff about his acting bc the rest of the stuff i said is still completly valid. i don't get why stans refuse to even admit that their fav is some times a bad person and call them out on their bullshit. you can still like him without ignoring or excusing his shitty behavoir

"not trying to start anything i really want to hear your and other ppls opinions. after seeing that redit video today abt the onset fight combined with other stuff glenn has said and done like the antivax stuff. im starting to really dislike glenn. he acts like a self obsessed tool all the time but so many stans baby him so much that they refuse to see or say anything about it [deleted] but maybe you or others have reasons to stan him pls share bc im clearly missing somthing. i dont want to not like him but hes making it very hard"

(the Reddit video being Rob talking about how Glenn freaked out during the filming of The Gang Saves the Day because he didn't feel comfortable getting "shot" in the scene with Dee killing all of them and threw a tantrum on set)

First of all, I don't think anyone refuses to admit Glenn is anything but perfect, and I also don't think anyone excuses his "shitty behaviour," but while you only may have just become aware of this moment, it was first brought to light in 2017, right before Glenn left the show "for good" and has kinda been hashed to death. If you're genuinely asking 'why is no one talking about Glenn's temper tantrums from 8+ years ago,' idk how to answer that question other than: why would we be? It's just not relevant

We know, from set stories and Glenn himself, that Glenn has gone through many ups and downs on the set of Sunny. He's spoken quite a bit about how his attitude has ruined the vibe and created a lot of tension in the writers room and on set before, and it's something he needed Rob to bring to his attention in Season 11 because he couldn't recognise it harmed other people (and that's what led him to realise he needed to walk away). I think it's not, like, a hidden or dismissed aspect of his personality that he's a diva, even today after righting his attitude and returning, he still tends to "method act" to a degree when he's playing Dennis and comes off a certain way

So yes, he's been "exposed" as a brat on set and a little entitled in general, and he's got some questionable views on health, for sure and I think that can make you dislike him and if that's so...that's fine. I don't think anyone in this fandom cares if you do or don't, honestly, but that works both ways.

People who post about Glenn in fond ways aren't going to disclose that they know he's entitled and centrist every time they post anything about him, but whenever something does happen/come out, people do criticise it in the moment. The Podcast brought a lot to light and it seemed like weekly we were scrutinizing something RCG said but, like, there's genuinely nothing Glenn has done in the past year that the fandom has chosen to ignore for the sake of excusing his shitty behaviour...? Are we supposed to rehash dead and buried RCG drama just because it was reposted to a different platform?

I get if you're just learning about him as a person now it can be weird to see most people who are actively talking about him seem to just be stanning him blindly, but that's really not true. The TASP days are just behind us, and Glenn's PR is very strong with his gay whiskey tour front and center (and you're asking me lol).

As to providing you with reasons for stanning him... just search "Glenn Howerton Interview" on Youtube.. or watch this one .. and if you don't get it, you probably just don't like him and that's fine, lol he'll probably get you eventually if you're around long enough

[fr33time]

Can i pretty please have Haku x Subaru's little sister! Reader?

Whereas it was very obvious Reader has a huge crush on Haku no matter how many times she non-chalantly deny it (like always tried to look good in front of him, secretly admiring him, fixing her posture whenever he was arouns

It would be kinda funny if she was from another house and always visit Hotarubi to "see her brother" when Subaru knows damn well why she's here

A/N: This one is so funny oh my god, I love this idea 🤭 I played around with the formatting a bit and added a couple scenarios that I thought of. I wanted to try something new and have fun with it, so I hope you enjoy anon! I think Haku would be a bit cautious when with Subaru’s little sister because he knows how Subaru doesn’t tell people how he feels until it’s the worst time. On the other hand he loves teasing her and hanging out when they’re alone hehe. This came out a little later than expected but I had my lovely friend read it over for me before making some final touches. See you next post 🫶

✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

✧༺☆Haku x !reader that’s Subaru’s little sister ☆༻∞

Divider credits: @only-ranpo

Genre: Fluff, headcanons (with scenarios mixed in ♥︎)

Requesting rules here! (Read before requesting) ╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

♥︎You try to play it up so much that you don’t have a crush on Haku, but everyone that knows you can tell… especially Subaru, and Haku himself. They won’t call you out on it, but Subaru is quietly rooting for you while Haku just loves to tease you and seeing you fix yourself in the corner of his eye.

♥︎Subaru is not one to snitch on you, he’s the type to silently push you two together. You’ll never know it either because he’s good at concealing his intentions.

♥︎ “Oh um… while you’re here, do you mind grabbing me the tea packs in the kitchen?” He needs the tea packs, but he knows that Haku is still in Hotarubi. He doesn’t want to pry too much, but he wants to see you happy and hopefully you’ll make a move someday.

You make your way to grab the tea packs and after grabbing a small box of them you accidentally crash into someone when turning the corner. You weren’t sure who you just crashed into, but you panic and step back with speed “I’m so sorry!” You trip on your legs, but you get quickly caught by a dashing and handsome Haku. “Woah! Watch yourself, you almost fell. I wouldn’t want Subaru’s precious sister to get hurt.” He gives a worried smile and you feel yourself burning up. He pulls you upwards so that you’re steady on the ground, you realize that you two are really close.

You quickly regain yourself and back up to pick up the tea packets that you dropped, trying to hide your flushed face. “Well thank you for catching me, I was just on my way to deliver these to Subaru.” He kneels down to help you pick them up, once he collects a handful he hands them back to you and smirks. “I’ll walk you there, I need to give him papers anyways.” You look in his eyes and curse him for his flirty personality.

♥︎When you and Subaru went to have lunch together, you could see Haku walking in the door. You immediately turned towards Subaru and panicked ‘he didn’t tell me Haku was coming!’ You stood up hurriedly and excused yourself “Sorry! I need to use the washroom” and grabbed your bag to touch up in the bathroom. You weren’t particularly ready to see people since you thought it was only going to be you two…

♥︎Haku tends to forget that you’re not just Subaru’s little sister that “visits” him all the time. He knows that you’re your own person, and once he hangs out with you more he slowly realizes the fluttering feeling in his stomach when he talks to you. He finds you adorable when you try and look good in front of him, he knows how you feel about him and one day he’ll ask you on a real date. He needs to talk to Subaru first before he does anything with you, as much as he likes you he also respects your brother.

♥︎Oftentimes Haku will walk you home when it gets late, he tells you that it’s important to keep his captains little sister safe, but it’s really just to have alone time with you. At some point, it stops becoming a “walk home” and turns into having your own little adventures together. Haku is busy helping Subaru, so hanging out with you after nightfall is rewarding to him after a long day. He likes to buy food with you at the general shop and sit outside to look at the stars with you and talk. He can’t be gone too long though, because Subaru gets worried. Plus, last time he was too long Subaru was waiting by the front door and asked “so how was walking my little sister home.” With a smile that did not match the look in his eyes. Whoopsies.

♥︎Subaru 100% wants you to be happy, and will encourage you two to be together, but he will absolutely be a big brother when he needs to be. You’re still the same little kid that he grew up with, and he has to remind himself that you’re grown up. So when Haku comes to him to ask permission to ask you on a date, he’s a little hesitant.

♥︎Subaru needed your help to deliver important papers from the administration after classes. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience, everyone else in Hotarubi is busy. I’ll buy you lunch sometime this week (^_^;)” you read his message back while heading over and couldn’t help but wanting to check on Haku while you were visiting. He’s been busy recently and you haven’t had the chance to hang out with him this week. Usually he’d message you, but it’s been radio silent for days now and you’re starting to get worried that you did something.

You stepped inside Hotarubi and dropped off Subaru’s papers, afterwards you looked around the place for signs of Haru. You didn’t want to ask anyone where he was because then it would be obvious that you like him! (Even though practically everyone already knows). You packed your stuff with a defeated sigh, ready to head back to your own house until someone picked up your umbrella and held it up for you.

“I wouldn’t let you walk home alone when it’s dark like this.” You look up beside you and see his sly smile. You were caught by surprise and tried to fix how you look for a moment. “Haku! I didn’t think you’d be here, Subaru said everyone was busy today.” As if you didn’t look around for him for half an hour.

“Well… I need a break so I might as well, you’re gonna need to get close if you don’t want to get soaked by the rain.” He pointed out the distance you put between yourselves. “Oh.. right” you inched closer to him to the point where you two were touching shoulders which felt intimate in the atmosphere of the Hotarubi house. Both of you stepped outside and began to walk home, being hit with the smell of lavender and clouds of mist.

“By the way, sorry for not messaging you recently. I’ll make up for it if you want me to, maybe taking you wherever you want to next Monday? It’s a bit hectic in the house recently.” Your heart skipped a beat at his proposition, and you slowly turned your head towards him with your jaw dropped. He meant hanging out right? With extreme caution, you replied back “I don’t mind, that sounds nice”

It seems like your walk was too short for your liking, because you two stopped at your front door and he handed your umbrella back to you. Before he said anything, he kissed your cheek sweetly and declared “Let’s make it a date.” You were left on the staircase of Clementia wondering what just happened. You were holding your cheek with a deep flush washing over you and stared at his back while he walked away. Did he really just ask you out on a date?

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

[prettycopperpennies]

Angel On His Shoulder | Thanos/Choi Su-bong/Player 230 x F!Reader

Description: Demon Thanos x Angel Reader, Supernatural au, enemies to lovers

Warnings: no descriptions of gore but the setting is squid games

Part 2

Previous

Angel On His Shoulder

You felt it in your bones: everyone was going home. You absolutely believed and trusted every single one of the players as soon as the guards announced the vote. You knew they’d want to keep themselves and their fellow players safe. You glanced around the crowd gathering on the floor, preemptively proud of the decision you were sure they would make.

“What’s with the smile, angel?” you heard a deep voice ask. You turned around to see a tall, purple haired figure behind you.

“No reason,” you answered, not trying to encourage small talk between you and a demon. You turned back around, but he was not so easily discouraged.

“I think,” he continued on, walking up next to you, “you believe everyone’s about to head out of this place.”

You were more than a little frustrated he seemed to be able to read you so well. It also didn’t help that the heat of his aura always quelled the coldness you were used to feeling from your own aura. You were finding it difficult to literally keep your cool around him.

“So what if I do?” you asked with a small huff.

Su-bong couldn’t stop the smile that came to his face at your persistence. He didn’t know what you saw in mortals, but it amused him to no end.

“And what if it doesn't turn out how you think?” he asked. He felt frustrated as you didn't answer and kept looking ahead. He tried not to let it show as your action unintentionally took a dig at his ego, and continued on, “Or have you not thought of that?”

He felt a smidge of satisfaction when you once again turned towards him. You glared in his direction before saying, “I believe in them.”

“Right. Doubt isn’t really an option for angels, is it?” he asked.

“That’s not- We can- I simply don’t need,” you sputtered through a jumbled mass of words. He tilted his head as he listened to your failed attempts of excuses, openly grinning at your frowning face.

“Wow, I’ve never been proven so wrong,” he teased.

“You know what? You are going to be eating your words once these people vote,” you said, only doubling down in what you believed. You couldn't help but notice how right he was; doubt did not seem to be a skill you possessed.

“You sure about that?” he leaned in and asked as his eyes moved to a few of the players in front of you. Both seemed to be discussing the possibilities of voting O. You felt your assuredness falter for a moment, but soon you regained your confidence.

“Yes, I’m sure!” you said, choosing to assume those two players were in the minority. Surely, most of these players would want to help themselves and each other and go home.

Su-bong noticed the little hesitation in your voice, and decided to take advantage of the small opportunity.

“Alright,” he said, “So X wins and you win, but if it’s O…”

“What, like a bet?” you said, repulsed by the idea of betting on something so serious.

As your nose crinkled once again Su-bong felt his confident demeanor falter for a moment when faced with your very endearing expression. But he quickly regained his footing as he held out a hand towards you.

“Let’s call it a deal,” he said.

“I’m not doing that,” you said, not buying into what he was selling.

“Why not?” he asked.

“I’m not about to make a deal with a devil,” you said with a flat tone.

“Okay, fine,” he said with a casual shrug, but somewhere in the back of his head he felt oddly pleased you hadn’t fallen for it.

The both of you turned away from one another as a pink guard spoke up, announcing the beginning of the vote. Player 456 walked across the room, and you breathed a sigh of relief as soon as the tally ticked upwards for the X’s.

As soon as number 444 was called you hurried to the other side of the room to cast your vote. You turned to give Thanos a smug look before joining the other X’s. He simply rolled his eyes at your display, waiting for his turn. 

As the vote continued on though you felt your confidence start to falter. The group was split closer down the middle than you had expected. But you wouldn’t give up until the vote was officially done. You wouldn’t stop believing in them. You huffed with unsurprised annoyance as Thanos voted O. He turned to you, mocking your earlier move as he returned the smug expression before joining the other O voters.

Apparently you weren’t the only one who believed in these players. Player 456 pushed to the front of the crowd df X’s to give a stirring speech. You nodded your head in agreement, hoping the remaining players would listen to his warning. Thanos was easy to spot thanks to his brightly colored hair, and you made sure to give him a know-it-all look as the player spoke up in favor of ending the games. He held up one ringed finger as if to say “wait and see”. 

Moments later Player 100 was suddenly yelling back at 456. Su-bong looked back over to you, ready to rub it in your face as an argument broke out. But you weren’t looking at him. You refused to give him even more of your attention, and instead you watched the others worriedly as they started to yell. Annoyance, and maybe a tinge of disappointment, at your rejection bubbled up inside him. He was determined to get you to pay attention.

You were trying to calm the players around you, reasoning that fighting was not the answer, when you heard a deep voice cut through the crowd. You abandoned your conversation, moving through the other X’s to get a better view. You almost didn't believe it until you saw the familiar purple hair.

“If you really won, it actually works better for us,” he said, and you watched with a sinking feeling as players nodded their heads in agreement, “You can give us some tips on how to survive these games.”

You watched in shock as he hyped up the crowd, cheering them on to vote O. As he turned around he already knew exactly who’s reaction he was looking for, and as soon as he spotted you he was not disappointed. You started disbelievingly at him as he smirked and swaggered past you back to the O’s. You both looked back at the other with determination, literal lines drawn between the two of you as the voting continued on.

As the voting concluded you felt your heart sink into the ground. You were wrong. The players had voted to keep playing. But you didn't blame them. You put all the responsibility on Player 230.

Speak of the devil, you thought glumly to yourself as he approached your bunk.

“Hey,” he said, sounding frustratingly casual. You did not answer, instead focusing all your attention on a loose thread on your sheet. He sighed, leaning against your bed frame.

“C’mon, you can’t really be upset about this. Or even surprised,” he said, then paused to hear your response. But it never came, “I came over to rub my victory in your face, but it’s not nearly as fun if you keep ignoring me.”

You finally broke the silence as you said, “Victory? You cheated!”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“That little speech you made! You interfered with the players’ decision making,” you explained.

His expression changed to mock shock as he spoke, “I can’t believe you would accuse me of such a thing as cheating.”

“I’m not counting it as a victory,” you said.

“You can’t act so surprised. Tempting humans is kind of my thing,” he pointed out. He glanced around, making sure no one was within earshot before whispering, “But just so you know, demons aren’t above cheating either.”

“Just so you know, angels don’t give up without a fight,” you said, trying to out-intimidate him. But it clearly didn’t work as he started to laugh.

“Please. That’s all you angels do,” he snickered. You gasped in indignation, but that only added fuel to his fire, “Listen, since you think I cheated then let me offer you an olive branch.”

“I’m not going to take a deal so stop offering,” you said, but he held up his hands in mock defeat.

“This isn't a deal. Think of it as an invitation,” he explained. 

You listened, curious about his “invitation”. He reached a hand out to tap a ringed finger against your X patch. A small spot of your skin, exactly where his fingertip tapped, tingled under your clothes as he did. The heat that always surrounded him seemed to cut through the fabric.

“If you ever get sick of losing, you’re always welcome to join my side,” he said.

“No chance,” you said before waving away his hand, getting up, and stomping over to a few X players. Su-bong watched you as you walked away, finding himself once again pulled in by your insistent personality.

[sturnioloarch1ves]

close calls pt 1

character desciption

The café was bustling with mid-morning energy: steaming lattes being handed over the counter, the low hum of conversation, and the occasional sharp clink of a spoon against porcelain. Jules stood at the pick-up counter, clutching her tote bag and nervously tapping her fingers against her phone. Today was her first day at her new job, and she was already in her head about it. Was the blazer too formal? Should she have worn flats instead of heels? Maybe the lipstick was too bold?

Stop it, Jules. You’ve got this. Deep breaths.

“Medium latte for Jules!” the barista called out.

Snapping out of her spiralling thoughts, Jules stepped forward, juggling her phone and bag as she reached for her cup. And that’s when it happened. Her elbow bumped against something—or rather, someone—and in an instant, the lid popped off, and the hot latte spilled across a stranger’s hoodie.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Jules gasped, frantically grabbing napkins from the counter and dabbing at the spreading stain. She didn’t even look up, too mortified to face the victim of her clumsiness.

“Seriously?” came a low, unimpressed voice. “Are you even paying attention?”

Jules froze. The exasperation in his tone cut through her embarrassment. She looked up slowly and felt her stomach sink. The guy standing in front of her had sharp brown eyes, messy dark hair tucked under a baseball cap, and an expression that screamed annoyed beyond belief. He glanced down at his now-ruined hoodie, then back at her, eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Uh...” Jules stammered, her cheeks burning. “I’ll buy you another coffee?”

“Oh, great,” he said flatly, peeling off the stained hoodie to reveal a plain black T-shirt underneath. “Because that totally fixes the problem.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, I’m sure you didn’t,” he cut her off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He shoved the hoodie into his bag with a sharp movement. “Maybe next time, try looking where you’re going.”

Jules opened her mouth to respond, but he was already walking away, leaving her standing there with a handful of napkins and her dignity in tatters.

“Great start, Jules,” she muttered to herself.

By the time she arrived at the management office, Jules was practically vibrating with nerves. The receptionist had directed her to the conference room, where her new bosses—the infamous Sturniolo triplets—were waiting. Adjusting her blazer for the hundredth time, she took a steadying breath and pushed open the door.

The room was less intimidating than she’d expected, but only slightly. The triplets were scattered around the table, their casual energy filling the space. Matt was scrolling through his phone, Nick was doodling on a notepad, and Chris—

Her heart dropped.

Chris, the guy from the café, leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and an incredulous look plastered on his face. His eyes flicked to her, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward in a way that made her want to simultaneously scream and hide.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jules muttered under her breath.

Chris tilted his head, clearly relishing her discomfort. “Wow, Latte Girl. Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon.”

Matt looked up, his brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you two know each other?”

“Not really,” Jules said quickly, shooting Chris a pointed glare. “Just a minor... incident earlier.”

“Incident?” Nick chimed in, perking up. “What kind of incident?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Chris said, leaning forward with exaggerated nonchalance. “She just decided my hoodie would look better soaked in coffee.”

Jules’s face burned. “It was an accident.”

“Sure it was,” Chris replied, his tone razor-sharp. “Nothing says ‘I’ve got my life together’ like spilling coffee on a stranger and then doubling down on excuses.”

“Chris,” Matt said, his voice carrying a note of warning. “Let’s at least try to be professional.”

“Why start now?” Nick quipped, grinning as he leaned back in his chair. The brothers burst into laughter, and Jules fought the urge to sink into the floor. Instead, she pulled her laptop out of her bag and set it on the table. Then, noticing Jules’s expression, he straightened up and added quickly, “Hey, I’m kidding. Chris is just being Chris—don’t let him get to you.”

“I’m here to make your lives easier, believe it or not,” she said evenly, trying to keep her composure.

Chris raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “Easier? Bold promise coming from someone who can’t even handle a coffee cup.”

Jules clenched her jaw, refusing to take the bait. “Jules Leblanc,” she said, addressing the room as professionally as she could manage. “I’m your new marketing coordinator. I’ll be handling brand partnerships.”

“Brand partnerships,” Chris echoed, as if tasting the words. “Translation: endless emails and meetings about things we don’t care about.”

Jules shot him a glare, but before she could respond, Matt stepped in. “We’re glad to have you, Jules. Don’t mind Chris—he’s just... like this.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” Jules said dryly, earning a snicker from Nick.

The meeting that followed was a chaotic mix of actual work and relentless teasing. Matt tried to keep things on track, but Nick kept throwing in jokes, and Chris seemed to make it his mission to poke at Jules whenever he got the chance. By the time it was over, she was exhausted and more than ready to leave.

“You seemed a little overwhelmed in there,” Nick teased as he walked past her, giving her a friendly nudge on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to us.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Jules replied under her breath.

As the others filed out, Jules lingered behind, gathering her things and mentally replaying every awkward moment from the past hour. Of course, Chris was the last to leave. He paused by the door, glancing back at her with a look that was equal parts smug and insufferable.

“You know,” he said casually, “if you were trying to leave a lasting first impression, mission accomplished.”

Jules looked up, sighing. “I’m sorry about the coffee, okay?”

“Don’t be,” he replied, his tone cutting. “At least now I know what to expect.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Jules to wonder how on earth she was going to survive working with him—and his brothers.

comment for taglist ;) pt 2 coming tomorrow

[pe4cht3a]

i need like killua fluff on CRACK like literally tooth aching

with fem reader to pls😁

« ֪ ׅ ֹ =͟͞ Lilies

── .✦ a/n: pls don’t hate me this is so ass but have fun

it was two days more before the 14th of february, aka the date that was the wingmen to many people before killua. in just a bit, it’ll soon be valentines day! the day of love and the dearest of companionships.

killua bit his nails anxiously as he was walking down the sidewalk to the most recommended florist in town. the bell above the door rang cheerfully as he pushed through the glass door into the florist shop. as killua walked into the shop, it felt like he was transported into some fantasy, the different species and sorts of flowers that bloomed within was magnificent. so many different types and colours of roses, lilies, peonies, orchids, as well as many kinds of ferns overwhelmed his senses.

killua thought to himself that surely, flowers and leafy plants would be the most surprising things possible in the shop, but thats until the albino realised the employee at the counter was none other than, you.

“oh! apologies for not noticing you sooner, sir. do you have any idea on what you’re looking for?” you turned around and smiled sweetly as you realised a new customer had stumbled in. “uh no, wait yes… umm no?” the silverette panicked as he started looking around the shop in a frenzy.

killua wanted to jump off a roof in that moment so bad. how could you possibly be the employee working at the florist shop when he was in there buying flowers for YOU. the bewildered boy had a terrible crush on you, but he knows you probably don’t even feel the same.

to be fair, killua had always had a thing for you. how could he not? you were the prettiest girl in your year, you had flawless grades, kind, was good at sports, outgoing and sat next to him throughout middle school until high school.. every SINGLE YEAR. every time, kil left his pencil box home, you would notice and offer him your extra set of stationeries. this small gesture eventually became regular as he started leaving his belongings at home ON PURPOSE, just so you guys would interact more. you of course, realised that this became more frequent, but you didn’t mind. you liked helping out killua whenever you could, especially since he didn’t have much people apart from gon.

“hold on! killua? what are you doing here?” you then realised the guy who walked in was actually your deskmate. how could you not see it sooner? who else has that goofy ass hair colour. “UM. i.. you know! just buying flowers.” the pale boy awkwardly said as felt his heart racing up.

“ooh! i didn’t know you had a valentines!” you grinned sneakily, teasing the already very much flustered albino. “NO I DON’T!” killua was now extremely embarrassed as he did not know how to deal with this situation, as he actually planned to ask YOU to be his valentine. “yeah sure bro, why else are you in here?” you giggle slightly as you place your arms onto the counter in front of you, astounded by killua’s lack of excuses.

“anyways, just tell me what you’re looking for.” you gaze around the store, mentally guessing which flowers killua would pick. “well, i’m not really sure.” killua shoved his hands into his pockets, thinking you probably will imagine he’s careless about his valentine. “hmm.. i see. no worries! i’ll help you look around!” you jump out the cashier area and skip towards the albino.

“sooo, do you know her favourite colour?” you question as you start pacing around the store, deep in thought about choosing the right flowers for killua. “um yeah.. she likes white.” the silverette let out, eyes strictly fixated on the floor below him. “ooh! a simple girl! i get her, white is a favourite of mine too.” your eyes shine brightly as you start moving towards the pastel section of flowers.

“i wonder why..” killua sarcastically muttered under his breath. “what was that?” you turn your head around curiously, you swear you heard killua say something. “nothing.” the albino huffed out.

you pick up two different bundles of flowers and called killua over. “personally, white roses or these white tulips are super fit for a romantic gesture!” you excitedly shove them towards killua. “oh. yeah, they’re nice.” the albino gazed at them, extremely focused. “you seem to be quite passionate about this gift.” you gently whisper, as you admire the gentle expression on killua’s pale face.

“if these don’t feel like the right ones, then…” you slowly say as you turn the other way and put away the bundles of roses and tulips. “hm? yeah?” killua was not sure what else you’ll show him.

“what about these? they are white lilies.” you turn back to killua and display a huge bundle of graceful lily flowers. “thats.. they look really nice.” killua felt pleasantly surprised by the presence and elegance of these specific floral organisms.

“hehe! of course even you like them! these are my personal most favourites! i’m sure the special girl will love these.” you happily cheer, holding onto the bundle of lilies, as if they are your own children. “huh? really?” the albino raised his head. “what do you mean?” you question, confused on what killua is suddenly so enthusiastic about.

“lilies are your favourite?..”

“yeah, they are!”

killua left the florist shop that afternoon, feeling fulfilled. as he had just placed an order for a dozen of lilies in a bouquet. now, all he had to do was just wait for valentines day to roll around.

“happy valentines day kil! ready to gift your lilies to your girl today?” you make yourself comfortable in your designated seat in class, seeing the bouquet of lilies beside killua’s desk, beautifully wrapped in a bunch of pastel pink wrapping, completed by a brighter shade of pink for a ribbon, to finish it all up. “yeah, i’m ready.” killua’s head was facing the class room window, not daring to make eye contact with you, the woman he desired most.

“hey killua! its lunch, don’t you usually eat with gon?” you put down your cup of coffee onto the bench beside you. your albino deskmate had just suddenly approached you, while you were enjoying lunch alone outside, at the school garden.

“i see you have your lilies with you! going to go see your special girl?” you point at the bouquet he held in his arms as you slowly stood up, facing killua.

“these are actually for you..” killua muttered, as he slowly extended out his arms, to gift you the bouquet of lilies. “huh? but what about your valentines?” you question loudly, surprised by what killua is suddenly saying.

“you’re so stupid sometimes.”

“what are you trying to say?”

“i’m asking YOU to be my valentines, idiot.”

an awkward silence filled the atmosphere for a mere moment, before you finally took the bouquet of lilies into your arms.

“i see. so i’m the special girl?” you joke in an embarrassed mood, showing killua a sheepish grin. “mhm, i suppose you are.” the silverette sarcastically humoured back, returning back a soft smile.

“i understand though, if you don’t feel the s—” killua’s sentence was soon interrupted by a warm sensation embracing his lips.

what could even describe the feelings of the current situation, other than love and satisfaction?

you held the lilies in one arm, extending your free arm to caress killua’s face with your hand. you carefully met his lips with yours, no words spoken. all you wanted to do was express your mutually shared feelings through actions, rather than words.

is this what they called a first love? is this what they called a first kiss? is this what they all meant? killua could feel your gentleness being placed onto his face, as you leaned in and made the first move. the silverette eventually wrapped his arms around your waist, which lead to you being even closer to him as a result. killua’s heart felt it was merged into one with yours, in that one single but meaningful moment.

after what felt like a pleasing eternity, you slowly but eventually pulled away from killua.

“i.. I’M SO SORRY!” you exclaim as you cover your face with your hands, face burning up and ears feeling hot. “don’t be sorry y/n.” the albino was sort of surprised you were the one who was more flustered, considering it was you who made the first move.

“can you do that again?”

“what? did it feel nice?”

“yeah, it did.”

“huh? how?”

“experiencing you feels like experiencing the gentleness and beauty of a lily.”

[mintyys-blog]

steve rogers x dark! reader: innocent crush

WARNINGS: stalking, drugging, kidnapping, NONCON, DUBCON, talk of pregnancy, delusional reader, no like really she is insane, murder, mentions of blood

minors DNI

It started as an innocent crush.

You’d joined the Avengers as part of their tactical support team—a shy, brilliant analyst who preferred the quiet glow of computer screens to the chaos of the battlefield. Steve Rogers had been kind from the beginning, always offering a warm smile, always treating you with respect. He was the perfect picture of a gentleman, a leader, a hero.

You admired him. Loved him, even. At first, it was innocent: lingering glances during team meetings, daydreams about holding his hand, stolen moments where you thought, What if?

But admiration turned into obsession.

It started small. You found excuses to be near him—dropping by the training room to deliver reports, lingering in the kitchen when he made his morning coffee. Then, you started keeping track of his schedule, memorizing when he went for runs or when he hit the gym. You told yourself it was harmless. You just wanted to see him, to be close to him.

But soon, that wasn’t enough.

You sat in your dimly lit room, the only light coming from the computer screen. On it were surveillance feeds—grainy, black-and-white images from cameras you’d hacked into. One showed the living room, where Steve sat on the couch, reading a book. Another showed the hallway outside his room.

You knew it was wrong. But you couldn’t stop.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as you watched him. His brow furrowed slightly as he turned a page, completely unaware of your gaze. He was beautiful, his features so perfect it almost hurt to look at him.

In the privacy of your mind, you allowed yourself to imagine what it would feel like to touch him. To have him look at you the way he looked at the others—with warmth, with affection. But even that wasn’t enough anymore.

You wanted more.

The opportunity came one evening when the compound was quieter than usual. Most of the team was out on a mission, leaving just you and Steve behind. You’d stayed late in the control room, claiming to monitor the mission feed, but in reality, you were waiting.

You found him in the gym, sweat dripping down his forehead as he finished a set of pull-ups. He noticed you immediately, his blue eyes lighting up as he gave you a small, breathless smile.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing a towel to wipe his face. “What are you doing here so late?”

You shrugged, feigning shyness. “I was working and thought I’d check on you. Didn’t want you to feel lonely.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “That’s kind of you.”

You stepped closer, heart pounding as you looked up at him. “You do so much for everyone else. I just… I wanted to make sure someone was looking out for you, too.”

His smile faltered slightly, as if he sensed something off in your tone. “I appreciate that. But you don’t have to worry about me—I’m fine.”

“But who takes care of you, Steve?” you asked softly, your voice laced with something darker, something possessive. “You give and give, but no one ever gives back. Don’t you deserve someone who sees that? Someone who really knows you?”

His brows furrowed, and he took a small step back. “I… I think maybe you should get some rest. It’s late.”

“Why do you keep pushing me away?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You’re always so kind, so gentle, but you never let anyone in. I’m here, Steve. I see you.”

“I’m not pushing you away,” he said cautiously, his tone soothing but edged with unease. “I just think—”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice rising. “You don’t think. You don’t see what’s right in front of you. I’ve been here all along, waiting for you, loving you. Why can’t you just—”

“Stop.” His voice was firm now, his expression hardening. “I don’t know what you think this is, but you need to take a step back.”

The rejection hit you like a physical blow, and something inside you snapped.

That night, you returned to your room, your mind racing. He didn’t understand. He didn’t see. But he would.

You sat at your desk, pulling up your screens again. Every movement, every word he’d spoken to you replayed in your mind, twisting into something darker. If Steve wouldn’t come to you willingly, you’d just have to show him how much he needed you.

You were done waiting.

Smiling to yourself, you began typing, your fingers flying across the keyboard. You had access to everything—the compound’s security systems, the team’s personal files. You could isolate him, manipulate the environment, make sure you were the only one he could turn to.

Soon, he’d realize the truth.

He belonged to you.

Steve sat across from Bucky in the common area, his brows furrowed, a distant look in his eyes. He had been replaying the encounter with you in his mind for the past few days, and something about it gnawed at him. Bucky noticed his friend’s silence and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“You good, pal? You’ve been quiet for a while.”

Steve hesitated before speaking. “It’s about someone on the team… one of the analysts.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The quiet one? Always in the background?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “I had a strange conversation with her a few nights ago. It felt… off.”

“Off how?”

“She was…” Steve trailed off, searching for the right words. “Overly attached. She started talking about how she’s been looking out for me, how no one else sees me the way she does. It was intense, and when I tried to step back, she got… upset.”

Bucky’s expression darkened slightly. “How long has she been working here?”

“Couple of months,” Steve replied. “Have you ever talked to her? Did she ever seem… strange to you?”

“Not really,” Bucky said with a shrug. “She’s quiet. Keeps to herself. But now that you mention it, she did seem to watch you a lot. I figured she just had a crush.”

Steve leaned back, sighing heavily. “It felt like more than that. I haven’t seen her since that night, though. Maybe she realized she crossed a line.”

Bucky frowned. “Just keep an eye out. People like that… they don’t just let it go.”

A week passed without any sign of you. Steve began to think maybe Bucky was right—maybe you had realized your behavior was inappropriate and decided to keep your distance. He let his guard down, returning to his usual routine.

That’s when you showed up.

Steve was in the workout room, finishing his last set of bench presses, when he heard the door open. He glanced up to see you standing there, clutching a bottle in your hands. Your face was a mix of nervousness and determination, and he felt a flicker of unease.

“Steve,” you said softly, stepping closer. “Can I talk to you?”

He sat up, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“I wanted to apologize,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “For the other night. I… I realize I came on too strong. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Steve studied you, unsure of how to respond. “I appreciate the apology,” he said carefully.

“I brought you something,” you added, holding out the bottle. “A protein shake. I thought it might be a peace offering.”

He hesitated for a moment before taking it. “Thanks,” he said, unscrewing the cap. He took a sip, then another, before setting it down beside him.

You smiled, but there was something in your expression—something he couldn’t quite place.

“Thanks for understanding,” you said softly. “It means a lot to me.”

Steve nodded, but as he stood to put the bottle away, a wave of dizziness washed over him. His vision blurred, and his legs felt like they were made of lead.

“Wait…” he muttered, clutching the edge of the bench for support. He turned to look at you, and the innocent smile you’d worn moments ago had morphed into something sinister.

“You…” His voice was weak as realization dawned on him. “What did you do?”

You stepped closer, tilting your head. “I just gave you what you needed,” you said sweetly. “A chance to really understand how much I care about you.”

The world tilted, and Steve’s knees buckled. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, his vision fading as your chilling smile was the last thing he saw.

When Steve woke, the first thing he noticed was the cold metal beneath him. The second was the heavy restraints binding his wrists and ankles. He was in a cell—one clearly reinforced to hold someone as strong as him.

He tugged against the restraints, but they didn’t budge. “What the hell…”

“Steve,” your voice called softly.

His head snapped toward the sound. You were standing just outside the cell, your hands clasped in front of you, looking at him with an expression of pure adoration.

“Why?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “What is this? What have you done?”

“I had to,” you said, stepping closer. “You didn’t see it before, but I know you’ll understand. I love you, Steve. I’ve loved you for so long. And now, we can finally be together.”

Steve’s stomach churned. “This isn’t love,” he said firmly. “This is obsession. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I’m thinking perfectly clearly,” you insisted, your voice steady. “I’ve watched you for months, Steve. I’ve seen how lonely you are, how no one else truly appreciates you. But I do. I’m the only one who can give you what you need.”

“Let me go,” he said, his tone softening. “This isn’t the way, okay? We can talk about this, but you need to let me out of here.”

You shook your head, your smile unwavering. “You’ll see. In time, you’ll understand. I’ll take care of you, Steve. I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

His blood ran cold as you turned and walked away, leaving him alone in the cell. He tugged at the restraints again, anger and fear coursing through him.

He had to find a way out—before your twisted version of love consumed them both.

The compound was unusually quiet when Bucky realized something was wrong. Steve wasn’t at breakfast. That alone wasn’t alarming—he could’ve been on a run or training—but when lunchtime came and Steve was still nowhere to be found, unease began to creep in.

“Have you seen Steve?” Bucky asked Natasha, who was finishing a sparring session in the gym.

“No,” she replied, wiping sweat from her face with a towel. “Not since yesterday. Why?”

Bucky frowned, his gut twisting. Steve was a creature of habit. If he wasn’t around, something was wrong.

By the time the rest of the team gathered in the common area, Bucky’s worry had turned into full-blown panic.

“He’s gone,” Bucky said, pacing. “I checked his room, the gym, the grounds—nothing. He didn’t tell anyone he was leaving, and his phone is here.”

“Relax, Barnes,” Tony said, lounging on the couch with a coffee in hand. “It’s Steve. He probably went off to clear his head or something.”

“No,” Bucky snapped. “He wouldn’t just disappear without telling someone. And…” He hesitated, his mind flashing back to their conversation a week ago.

“And what?” Natasha pressed, her sharp eyes narrowing on him.

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He told me about one of the analysts. He said she was acting… off. Obsessive. He was concerned.”

“Who?” Tony asked, suddenly sitting up straight.

Bucky hesitated. “The quiet one. The one who keeps to herself.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “Y/N.”

Within minutes, Tony was in the security room, pulling up camera footage from the past week. The team stood behind him, tense and silent, as he fast-forwarded through hours of mundane clips.

“There,” Natasha said, pointing at the screen.

The footage showed Steve in the workout room, drinking the protein shake you had given him. Moments later, he staggered, struggling to stay upright as you stood there, watching with a chilling smile.

“Jesus,” Bucky muttered, his fists clenching at his sides.

The team watched in horror as Steve collapsed, and you calmly bent down to check his pulse. Then, with a calculated precision that sent a chill down their spines, you dragged his unconscious body out of frame.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tony said, his voice tight with disbelief.

“Rewind it,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “Play it again.”

After reviewing the footage, the team sprang into action. Natasha and Bucky searched the compound for any sign of where you might have taken him, while Tony began combing through your files.

It didn’t take long for him to find something that made his stomach drop.

“Uh, guys?” Tony called, his voice unusually serious.

The team regrouped in the control room, where Tony pulled up your personnel file on the main screen.

“How did we miss this?” he asked, scrolling through pages of information.

Your records showed a history of instability—a stint in a mental institution for sociopathic behavior, incidents of manipulation and obsession that had been carefully buried under layers of false documentation.

“This has to be a mistake,” Natasha said, but even she didn’t sound convinced.

“It’s not,” Tony replied grimly. “This person shouldn’t have been anywhere near Steve, let alone working in the compound.”

Bucky slammed his fist against the table, his frustration boiling over. “How the hell did this slip through the cracks? We vet everyone!”

“Apparently not well enough,” Tony said, his voice sharp. “She manipulated her way in, and now Steve’s gone.”

The team worked tirelessly to track Steve down. They searched every inch of the compound, scanned nearby surveillance cameras, and even sent drones to comb the surrounding area. But you’d been careful. There was no trail to follow.

Days passed, and the tension in the compound grew unbearable. Tony spent every waking hour digging through your background, trying to find any clue about where you might have taken Steve.

“She’s a ghost,” Tony muttered, scrolling through your file for the hundredth time. “No family, no real friends, no connections. How the hell do we find someone like that?”

“We have to,” Bucky said, his voice low and dangerous. “She’s out there with him, and God knows what she’s doing to him.”

The room fell silent as the weight of his words sank in.

“We’ll find him,” Natasha said firmly, though even she sounded uncertain. “We have to.”

But as the days stretched into weeks with no sign of Steve, the team’s hope began to waver.

And somewhere far away, in a hidden room where no one could find him, Steve Rogers stared at the woman who had taken everything from him—and vowed to find a way out.

Steve sat against the cold wall of the cell, his wrists raw from the metal restraints. He had lost track of time—days, weeks, maybe more. His enhanced metabolism dulled the hunger and thirst, but he wasn’t sure how long that would last.

The sound of a lock turning pulled him from his thoughts. The heavy door swung open, and there you were, carrying a tray with a steaming plate of food. The smell hit him immediately—chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes, green beans. His stomach churned. It was one of his favorites.

“Good morning,” you said cheerfully, setting the tray on a small table in the corner of the cell. You always made a point to act as if this was normal, as if he hadn’t been kidnapped and restrained in a fortified prison.

Steve didn’t respond, glaring at you instead.

Your smile didn’t falter. “You’re still upset. That’s okay. I know this is hard for you, but you’ll see. I’m doing this for us.”

“For us?” Steve asked, his voice low. “This isn’t love, Y/N. This is delusion.”

You frowned, stepping closer. “Don’t say that, Steve. You don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he said firmly, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. “You need help. This isn’t healthy. Whatever you think this is—it’s not real.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “You’re just confused right now. But I can help you see the truth.”

You busied yourself arranging the tray, placing the utensils neatly beside the plate. “I made this for you. I know it’s your favorite,” you said, glancing at him with a soft smile. “I’ve been practicing, making sure I get everything just right. When we’re together—really together—I’ll cook for you every day.”

Steve didn’t answer, his jaw tightening as he watched you.

“You’ll see,” you continued, sitting down across from him on the other side of the cell bars. “We’ll have a beautiful life. A big house, a white picket fence. I’ve even been thinking about names for our kids.”

His stomach dropped, dread pooling in his chest.

“You’ll be such a good father,” you said dreamily. “I can already picture it—playing catch in the backyard, teaching them how to ride bikes. We’ll have three kids, I think. Two boys and a girl.”

“Y/N, stop,” Steve said sharply, his voice cutting through your reverie.

But you ignored him, lost in your fantasy. “I’ve already picked out the names. James, after Bucky, of course. Sarah, for your mom. And the youngest… Daniel. It has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Steve’s breath hitched. This was worse than he thought.

You smiled at him, your eyes soft with adoration. “I know you’re scared. Change is always scary. But I promise, I’ll take care of you. We’ll be so happy together.”

“You’re delusional,” Steve said, his voice firm. “This isn’t love, Y/N. Love is about trust, about choice. You took my choice away. You’re holding me here against my will. That’s not love—it’s control.”

Your smile faltered for a moment, but you quickly recovered. “You’ll see,” you said, your tone sweet but with an edge of determination. “You’ll understand once you’ve had time to adjust. This is what’s best for you—for us.”

Steve stared at you, his mind racing. He needed to find a way out, and fast. The longer he stayed here, the more twisted your fantasies became.

You stood, picking up the tray. “I’ll give you some time to eat and think. I’ll be back later, and we can talk more about our future.”

As you walked out of the cell, humming softly to yourself, Steve leaned back against the wall, his jaw tight and his heart pounding.

He wasn’t just fighting for his freedom anymore—he was fighting to keep you from completely losing yourself in the dangerous illusion you’d created.

The days had become a blur. Each one blending into the next as Steve tried to stay focused, tried to stay strong. But his resolve was weakening. Your delusions had become more suffocating, your presence an ever-looming reminder of the nightmare he was trapped in.

He had been quietly biding his time, waiting for an opening, trying to push you to the edge without provoking an escalation. But today… today was different.

You came into the cell with that familiar, calm smile, carrying a tray with food, as you always did. But something in Steve snapped. Something inside him broke, and he couldn’t pretend anymore.

He had endured the talk of your “future,” the way you spoke of their children, your plans for a life that never had a chance to exist. But now, with the quiet, insistent dread building up inside him, Steve made a decision. He wasn’t going to play along. He wasn’t going to give in to your twisted fantasy.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t real. I’m not your future. I’m not your—”

Before he could finish, you slammed the tray down on the table with surprising force. Your eyes, which had always been soft and adoring, darkened with fury.

“How dare you,” you hissed, taking a step toward him, the calm facade cracking. “You think you can ruin everything? You think I’ve given you everything I’ve done for nothing?”

Steve stood his ground, fists clenched at his sides. “I haven’t ruined anything. You’ve made this up. You’ve trapped me in your delusions, Y/N, and I’m not going to be your pawn.”

Your expression twisted into a mix of disbelief and rage. “You don’t get it. You can’t ruin this, Steve. You can’t destroy the future I’ve built for us.”

Before he could respond, you pulled out a small, metallic device from your pocket. A hum filled the air, and in an instant, Steve’s body jerked violently as an electrical shock coursed through him. His muscles locked up, and he fell to his knees, a cry of pain escaping his lips.

“You—” he gasped, trying to recover from the shock, his limbs trembling. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re ruining everything!” you screamed, pacing in front of him. “I’ve given you everything—love, care, the future you don’t even deserve—and you’re throwing it all away. You’re hurting the mother of your children.”

Another surge of electricity. This time, it sent Steve to the floor, his vision swimming with dizziness. His body couldn’t keep up with the shockwaves crashing through him.

“Please…” he gritted out through clenched teeth. “Stop… stop this.”

“You want to hurt me, don’t you?” You stepped over him, looking down with cold eyes. “You think you can make me feel like I’m the one who’s wrong? You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?”

You knelt down beside him, lowering the device. The pain was fading, but his muscles still felt tight, his body exhausted from the assault. You cupped his chin gently, as though nothing had happened, as though everything were fine.

“I’m doing this for us,” you whispered. “For our family. For the life I’m going to give you.”

Steve’s heart raced as he tried to catch his breath, the taste of copper in his mouth. “I don’t want this life. I want to get out of here, Y/N.”

You stood, your expression cold, hardening. “You think I’ll let you go?” you spat, the anger returning in full force. “You’re mine now. Forever.” You kisses him, he didn’t return your affection, and you stood up.

There was no love in your gaze now—just obsession, just control. You turned and walked toward the door, leaving Steve on the floor, weak and disoriented.

As the door clanged shut behind you, Steve lay there, breathless and broken, the weight of your twisted love pressing down on him. He had to find a way out—before it was too late. Before you killed him.

Steve’s mind raced as he lay against the cold floor of his cell, still recovering from the shock, but now, a glimmer of hope flickered in the back of his mind. The restraints—loose. The cage—unlocked. For some reason, the mechanisms that held him had failed. He didn’t know how, but he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity.

His body ached from the fight, the electrical shocks, and the mental toll of being trapped. But he couldn’t stay here. Not anymore.

He slowly rose to his feet, using the wall for support as he carefully moved toward the door. The cell was dark, but the light from the hallway shone through the small crack beneath it. He knew he had to be quiet—careful.

Upstairs, he could hear faint humming. It was soft, familiar. It was her. The sound of you making his lunch. The same routine, day after day. You were upstairs, completely unaware of his freedom.

He crept into the hallway, moving stealthily toward the stairs. Every step was deliberate, every muscle tense, ready to bolt if needed. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through him, but he remained focused. This was his chance. He had to make it count.

But just as he reached the stairs, he paused, hearing something that made his blood run cold.

Your voice.

It wasn’t directed at him. It was… softer, gentler. You were talking to someone—no, something.

“I made your favorite today,” you cooed. “Chicken and potatoes. You like the peas, don’t you? Just like you used to.”

Steve’s brows furrowed in confusion. He crept closer, inching toward the corner where he could peer into the kitchen.

And then he saw it.

Dolls. Rows of them, set up at the small kitchen table. You were sitting across from them, carefully placing tiny plates of food in front of them. You smiled sweetly, speaking to them as if they were real.

“You’re all going to be real one day. I’ll make sure of it,” you whispered, your voice heavy with devotion. “And then we’ll all be together. I’ll have you with me forever.”

Steve felt the knot in his stomach tighten. This wasn’t just some harmless fixation—it was delusional. This wasn’t the woman he had known at the compound, the woman who had talked to him like she cared. This… this was something far darker, far more disturbing.

He stood frozen, too afraid to move, listening as you continued, your voice eerily calm and loving.

“I’ll make you all real,” you repeated. “Just like I’ll make him real… you’ll all be here with me, one big happy family.”

His pulse quickened, and the urgency to escape surged through him again. This was the moment. He didn’t have much time. You were heading downstairs with a plate of food in your hand, still humming the tune from earlier. He turned quickly, his heart pounding, and made a break for the door.

But as he slipped through the dark hallways, trying to remain unnoticed, his movements weren’t as silent as he thought. A faint sound reached his ears—footsteps.

Before he could turn to see where the noise was coming from, he felt a presence behind him.

“You think you can leave?”

He froze.

You were standing at the top of the stairs, a twisted smile on your face. “You think I wouldn’t know? I’m always watching, Steve. Always.”

His heart dropped to his stomach, and in that instant, the chase was on.

Steve broke into a sprint, but you were faster than he anticipated. He heard your voice calling to him—pleading, but it quickly morphed into something darker. “Don’t make me do this, Steve. I only want what’s best for us. You’ll understand soon.”

The sound of your footsteps grew louder, and before he knew it, you were upon him.

With surprising strength, you tackled him to the ground. Steve grunted as he hit the floor, trying to push you off. But it was like fighting against a force of nature. You had him in a vise grip. He didn’t want to hurt you, even after everything— you were a civilian.

“Please,” Steve gasped, struggling to break free, his mind racing. “Let me go. This isn’t you!”

“You think I’m going to let you go after all I’ve done for you?” you whispered, voice tight with restraint.

In the chaos, Steve didn’t see the needle until it was too late. The tranquilizer darted into his neck, and his world blurred as his limbs went heavy, his thoughts foggy. He fought it, trying to stay awake, but it was no use. The darkness closed in on him quickly, and he collapsed, unconscious.

When Steve awoke, he was back in his cell. His wrists and ankles were locked tighter than before, the restraints even more advanced and secure. He tried to move, but the heaviness in his body kept him pinned to the cold floor.

His head throbbed, and his vision swam as he looked around. And then, there you were.

Sitting in front of him, your hands folded neatly in your lap. You stared at him with a mixture of sadness and anger—an expression he hadn’t seen before.

“Why did you do this, Steve?” you asked quietly, tears welling up in your eyes. “Why do you have to make this so difficult?”

You leaned in closer, your breath catching. “You were supposed to be happy. You were supposed to understand that I’m doing this because I love you. Why can’t you see that?”

Steve’s heart twisted in his chest, the words he had for you stuck in his throat. He couldn’t reason with you—not like this.

“Please,” he whispered, voice strained. “Let me go. This isn’t love. This is… this is obsession.”

You didn’t respond at first, staring at him with a hollow look in your eyes. Finally, you spoke, your voice cold and sharp. “I’ll make you see, Steve. You’ll see that we belong together. No one else can have you.”

You walked closer, coming to saddle him. You leaned down to kiss him, he again, refused, turning his head. With his arms and legs pinned he couldn’t do anything but lay there. You grind against him, he groaned. You smirked, coming to unzip his pants, Steve’s eyes widened. “Y/N! No don’t!” He panicked. You smiled at him, “oh, is this your first time? Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work, love”

Love.

What a sickening thought. Your actions were even more sick as you started to pump his cock with your hand, attempting to get him hard. Naturally, it worked, and you grew excited at this. “This means you like me too, right?” Steve was at a lost for words, stock taking ahold of him. He tried to block you out in his mind. Ignoring how good it felt when you started to ride him. He tossed his head to the side, no no no. This couldn’t be happening. You moaned, going faster. Your bare breasts were bouncing in his face and he had a hard time not looking. He didn’t want this, that’s what he kept telling himself.

“Ah steve—“ you moan again, soon cumming on his cock. You didn’t stop though. Not until he did, inside you. Eventually he did, against his wishes and you kissed his face. “You did so well, honey, maybe next time you won’t be all tied up—“ you giggled. Lifting yourself off him and fixing your clothes, you then look at him, “oh my, what a mess” she bends down and cleans his cock with her mouth, savouring the mixed flavour of them both. When she was done, she fixed his boxers and zipped back up his pants. She stood up again, hand on her stomach, “hopefully we will have a little one joining us soon,”

Steve’s heart sank further as you stood, turning to leave the cell. Before you shut the door behind you, you looked at him one last time.

“I’ll be back soon,” you said softly. “And we’ll try again. I’m sure you’ll come around.”

The door clicked shut, and Steve was once again left in the dark, trapped. But this time, something was different. He wasn’t just fighting to escape. He was fighting for his sanity. For his life.

And somehow, he knew that getting out wouldn’t be easy. But he had no choice. He couldn’t stay here—not with you.

The team had been scouring every available lead for days—weeks, really—and each time they hit a dead end. Steve’s disappearance had become a nightmare they couldn’t shake. They were all frantic, trying to piece together any fragment of information they could find, but they were coming up short.

Then, late one evening, as Tony sat hunched over his computer, he received an encrypted message from an anonymous source. It was short, to the point, and the information was chilling.

“I know where she’s keeping him.”

Tony’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, processing the message. Whoever it was knew something, but who? A glance at his screen confirmed the sender’s identity: an ex-boyfriend. Someone who had known you in the past.

It was Bucky who first spoke up, leaning over Tony’s shoulder as he read the message. “What’s the catch? Who is this guy?”

“His name’s Aaron,” Tony said, typing furiously as he cross-referenced the info. “He used to date her. Guess she didn’t take the breakup well. Claims she almost killed him when he said he didn’t love her. Sounds familiar, huh?”

The team exchanged uneasy glances.

Natasha’s voice was quiet but sharp. “So why is he reaching out now? He could’ve easily kept his mouth shut.”

Tony pulled up the rest of the details from Aaron’s records. “Well, that’s the thing. He says he’s been on the run from her for years. He didn’t want to get involved, but after everything that’s happened with Steve… he’s trying to help. He claims he knows exactly where she’s keeping him.”

Aaron had provided them with a location: a house in the middle of nowhere. Hidden deep in the woods, away from civilization, surrounded by miles of nothing. The kind of place no one would find unless you knew exactly where to look.

Bucky was the first to break the silence. “We have to move fast. If she’s been hiding there, Steve might be running out of time.”

“I’ll make arrangements for a team,” Tony said, his voice clipped. “But there’s something else. Aaron’s warning us—it’s not just a house. It’s a trap, too. He claims she’s been building it, making sure no one can get to him.”

Wanda frowned, her brow furrowed with concern. “So he knows about her plans, but he couldn’t help him before?”

Tony grimaced. “Aaron was afraid. Afraid of what she could do to him if he spoke out. He says he tried to leave, tried to get away, but she found him. Almost killed him. So now he’s just… trying to make things right.”

“I don’t care what his reasons are,” Buckys voice came from across the room. “We have to get to him before she does anything else. Let’s move.”

“Let’s get this crazy bitch.”

A few hours later, the team was ready. Aaron had provided as much information as he could—maps, coordinates, anything that might help them get there. He’d even mentioned that there was a specific route to approach, one that would give them the element of surprise.

As the Quinjet’s engines roared to life and they prepared for takeoff, Bucky looked at Tony with a hard expression.

“You think we’re ready for this? For what’s waiting for us out there?”

Tony didn’t look up from his console as he adjusted the coordinates. “We’ll be ready. But there’s one thing we need to keep in mind—if we get to that house, we can’t underestimate her. She’s dangerous, Bucky. You’ve seen what she’s capable of.”

“More than you know,” Bucky muttered darkly, his mind wandering back to the days before everything changed.

The team sat in tense silence as the Quinjet soared through the night, the hum of the engines the only sound. Natasha and Wanda exchanged worried glances, both sensing that they were walking into something far more treacherous than they could imagine.

When they finally landed near the coordinates Aaron had provided, they were met with nothing but desolation—a stretch of dense forest, the trees whispering in the wind, but no sign of life.

Bucky gripped his gun tighter, his eyes scanning the perimeter. “Stay sharp. This place gives me the creeps.”

Tony, ever the pragmatist, motioned for everyone to fall in line. “Let’s move. We get Steve, and we get out. No messing around.”

They moved through the forest with precision, each step closer to the house feeling like they were being drawn into something far darker than they anticipated. The eerie quiet weighed on them, and soon they could see the house in the distance—isolated, nearly camouflaged by the surrounding trees.

“This is it,” Natasha said, her voice steady despite the chill running down her spine. “This is where she’s been keeping him.”

Wanda’s face tightened, and she nodded. “Be careful. She’s not going to make it easy.”

They approached the house cautiously, ready for anything, but no one could have predicted what awaited them inside.

Meanwhile, inside the house, you were preparing. Your mind had been racing all day, making sure everything was perfect. The meal you had made for Steve was on the table, waiting for him to eat, just like all the others. You hummed softly to yourself, wrapping yourself in the comforting thoughts of your future with him.

But you knew, deep down, something was off. You could feel it. And soon, your senses would catch up to you. You would realize that the house—your sanctuary—was about to be invaded.

The team was coming. But you wouldn’t let them take him. Not without a fight.

“One day, you’ll understand, Steve,” you whispered to yourself. “One day, you’ll see… this is meant to be.”

The air was thick with tension as the team split up inside the house. Tony, Wanda, and Clint were heading deeper into the structure, searching every room for Steve, hoping to find him before it was too late. Meanwhile, Bucky and Natasha were stationed at the front of the house, keeping watch over the exit, their senses heightened. But neither of them expected what would happen next.

You stood in the corner of the dimly lit hallway, your breathing steady despite the chaos in your mind. You had known this moment would come—the moment they would find you, the moment they would come for Steve. But you were prepared.

In your hand, hidden beneath the folds of your dress, you gripped the remote. Your heart beat fast in your chest, but you didn’t waver. You couldn’t afford to.

As Bucky and Natasha walked cautiously down the hallway toward you, you stepped out of the shadows, placing yourself squarely between them and the rest of the house. The movement was swift, calculated. You smiled sweetly, but there was no warmth behind it.

“Stay back,” you warned, your voice steady, but with a hint of something more dangerous beneath it. “You’re not taking him. Not without a fight.”

Bucky’s hand went instinctively to his gun, while Natasha’s eyes narrowed, assessing the situation. You knew they were trained to handle nearly any situation, and if it came to a physical confrontation, you’d be outmatched. But you weren’t planning on fighting them.

“I don’t want to hurt either of you,” you said, raising the remote in your hand. “But I will if I have to.”

Natasha didn’t flinch, but Bucky’s gaze hardened. “What are you playing at?”

You could see the doubt flicker in their eyes, the uncertainty, and you seized on it. “I have a bomb,” you said with a chilling calmness. “Around Steve’s neck. If you don’t let me go, I’ll push this button, and he dies.”

Bucky’s eyes shot wide open, his hand twitching toward his sidearm. “You’re lying. There’s no bomb.”

But you just smiled, knowing full well that they wouldn’t take that chance. “Do you really want to risk it?” you asked softly. “You don’t understand. I love him. You think I’d do this if I didn’t?”

Natasha’s voice was sharp. “You’re sick. You can’t keep doing this. He doesn’t love you.”

You stepped forward slightly, keeping the remote between them and yourself. “I’m doing this for him,” you said, your voice wavering for a split second, but you regained your composure. “He’ll understand soon enough. And we’ll be happy together.”

Bucky didn’t buy it. “You’re delusional,” he growled. “Let Steve go, and we’ll make sure you get the help you need. But this ends now.”

You could feel your grip tightening on the remote, your fingers burning with the cold weight of it. But you didn’t let go. Not yet. “I can’t let you take him. You think you can just waltz in here and take him away from me? After everything I’ve done?” Your voice cracked for a moment, a flash of desperation slipping through. “This is my last chance. Don’t make me take it.”

Natasha and Bucky exchanged a brief look. Neither of them wanted to call your bluff, but the reality of the situation was undeniable. They had no idea if you were lying or not, and if Steve’s life was truly at risk, they couldn’t afford to take that risk.

“Listen,” Natasha said slowly, trying to reason with you. “You don’t have to do this. Let him go, and we’ll help you. This isn’t the way to make him love you.”

Your face twisted in pain at her words. “You don’t understand. I can’t just let him go. He is mine. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him.”

Before either of them could react, you took a step back, your thumb hovering dangerously over the button. “Don’t make me do this,” you warned, the remote now clearly in their sight.

Bucky’s hand was still on his gun, but Natasha, ever the strategist, knew they needed a different approach. She stepped forward cautiously, her voice calm but firm. “Please, don’t do this. If you kill him, you’ll never have the chance to make him love you. You’ll just destroy everything.”

You hesitated. Just for a second. The tiniest crack in your resolve.

But then, the door at the other end of the hallway burst open, and Tony, Wanda, and Clint stormed into the room. They froze when they saw the scene before them—the standoff, the remote, the desperate look on your face.

“Y/N,” Tony called out, his voice hard. “Put it down. Now.”

You whipped your head toward him, eyes wild. “Stay back!” You shouted. “I’ll kill him! I’ll kill him if you don’t let me go!”

Tony’s eyes flickered to the others. Clint took a step forward, trying to keep his voice even. “Y/N, just calm down. You’re not thinking straight. We can help you, but you have to let him go. Now.”

But your focus was locked on Natasha and Bucky. You had no intention of letting Steve go—not now, not ever. “He’s mine!” you screamed. “I won’t lose him. Not to any of you!”

In that split second of distraction, Bucky acted.

With lightning speed, he disarmed you, knocking the remote from your hand. You barely had time to react before Natasha was on you, holding you in place, using her years of combat training to subdue you.

“No!” You screamed, struggling in her grip, but it was no use. The fight had drained from you as the weight of your actions hit you.

Tony quickly moved to Steve’s location, praying it wasn’t too late. Wanda was already working her way through the house, her senses attuned to any hint of Steve’s presence.

Bucky stood over you, breathing heavily, his jaw clenched. “You don’t get to decide what happens to him,” he said coldly. “This ends now.”

You looked up at him, a mixture of rage and despair in your eyes. “You don’t understand. You don’t get to take him from me.”

But Bucky wasn’t listening. He knew there was no reasoning with you anymore. It had gone too far.

“Where is Steve?” Tony shouted from down the hall, urgency in his voice.

You didn’t answer. You just sat there, seething, as the team moved to find Steve. The nightmare was far from over, but they were finally taking control.

The atmosphere in the house was thick with urgency as Tony, Wanda, and Clint moved quickly through the darkened hallways, their footsteps swift but cautious. They couldn’t afford to waste another moment. Steve had to be here somewhere.

Tony, his mind racing, scanned the rooms as they passed. “Keep your eyes peeled. She’s a step ahead of us, and I don’t want any surprises.”

Wanda nodded silently, her senses alert, trying to feel for any trace of Steve’s presence. It wasn’t easy—there was an unnatural heaviness in the air, like the house itself was trying to keep its secrets hidden. But Wanda’s powers were her advantage. She narrowed her focus, her eyes glowing faintly as she reached deeper into the walls.

“There’s something… something below,” Wanda said quietly, her voice steady but filled with an edge of concern. “A basement. It’s buried under the house.”

Clint wasted no time, rushing ahead with his bow at the ready. “Lead the way.”

The basement was tucked away in the farthest corner of the house, a dimly lit room with thick stone walls. As the group approached, Wanda stopped, her hand raised in warning. She could feel the shift in the air—the heavy weight of the silence, the presence of someone trapped inside.

Tony’s heart pounded as they made their way down the stairs into the cold, damp basement. Then, they saw him.

Steve was there, restrained in a metal chair, his hands shackled tightly to the arms. His face was pale, but his eyes—those familiar blue eyes—were still full of fire, even after everything he’d been through. His clothes were torn, his hair matted, and there was a dark bruise on his cheek, but he was alive.

Wanda and Clint were the first to move toward him, and Clint wasted no time cutting through the restraints with his bow’s arrow.

“Steve,” Tony called, a mixture of relief and anger in his voice. “You okay?”

Steve’s eyes fluttered open, and he blinked as if the last few moments had been a blur. His gaze landed on Tony, and a weak but genuine smile crossed his face. “Tony… I knew you’d come.”

Tony approached quickly, inspecting the shackles, his mind racing. “We’ve got you, Steve. Let’s get you out of here.”

Wanda hovered nearby, her powers already at work, healing what wounds she could. “You’re going to be okay. Just breathe, Steve.”

But as soon as his restraints were gone, Steve’s expression darkened, his gaze hardening. He glanced toward the stairs, as if anticipating something—or someone. “Where is she?” he asked, his voice hoarse but with a cold edge.

“She’s in custody,” Clint replied, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not going anywhere.”

Steve’s breath hitched in his chest as he processed what that meant. He stood shakily, using Tony’s shoulder for support, but his resolve was unwavering. “You need to take her down. Now. She can’t hurt anyone else.”

Tony nodded, leading the way out of the basement, his mind focused. “Don’t worry. She’ll face the consequences of her actions.”

Back upstairs, the atmosphere had changed. The sound of muffled footsteps echoed as Bucky, Natasha, and the others emerged from the living room, dragging you toward the entrance. Your eyes were wild with fury and fear, but there was an underlying sense of calmness in your face—like you had already resigned yourself to the inevitable.

Tony’s jaw clenched as he saw you being hauled to the door. “You,” he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re going to pay for everything you’ve done.”

You glared at him, but your expression faltered when you saw Steve standing by the door, looking stronger than you ever thought possible. There was no hint of fear or sympathy in his eyes. Only determination.

“Steve…” you whispered, a tremor in your voice. “You can’t let them do this. You don’t understand. I was trying to protect you.”

Steve took a step forward, his posture straight, but his tone was cold. “You never protected me. You’re sick. You’ve hurt people. You almost killed me.”

Your lips curled into a bitter smile, a twisted glimmer of hope still clinging to your expression. “I did it for you. You’ll see. One day, you’ll understand.”

Bucky stood behind you, his voice unwavering. “This ends now. You don’t get to control anyone anymore.”

“Take her to the cells,” Natasha ordered firmly. “And make sure she’s secured properly. We’ll deal with her later.”

As the team moved to leave, you were shoved into a van, hands cuffed behind your back. The drive to the facility was long and silent, the weight of your actions settling in. It was only a matter of time before the law caught up with you. Before the world saw you for what you truly were. A monster.

When you were thrown into the holding cell, the steel door slamming shut behind you, it felt like the last of your illusions shattered. You stared at the cold walls of the cell, the silence now deafening.

Steve was gone. The life you’d envisioned, the future you’d hoped for, was gone. And it was all the avengers fault. They couldn’t mind their own business, they couldn’t let you be happy.

The door to the cell rattled, and you looked up, seeing Bucky and Tony standing in front of the bars.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Tony said, his voice cold as ice.

“Your actions speak louder than your excuses,” Bucky added, his gaze unwavering. “And you’ve hurt too many people to get out of this unscathed.”

You wanted to lash out, to scream, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you slumped against the wall of the cell, the weight of your failure pressing down on you.

“You have no idea what you’ve done,” you whispered to yourself, more than to them. “I only wanted him to love me.”

Tony glanced at Bucky before speaking again. “You can keep telling yourself that. But you’ve crossed a line. There’s no coming back from this.”

“You’ll pay for this! YOU CANT KEEP ME HERE! STEVE IS MINE, YA HEAR! Mine!” You sob, “he was supposed to be mine forever…”

As the door to the cell closed, you were left alone with your thoughts, the nightmare you had created finally catching up to you. The world would soon know your true face. And there was no hiding from it.

The years had passed since Steve had been freed from the grips of the woman who had held him captive, twisted in a delusional fantasy of love. In that time, he had made incredible progress. The nightmares had dulled, the overwhelming sense of panic had subsided, and he was slowly learning to live again. Therapy had been a key part of his healing, and his therapist, Dr. Emma Carter, had been instrumental in helping him regain control over his life.

But that morning, something felt different.

As he sat in the waiting room, anxiously fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves, the buzz from the TV in the corner caught his attention. His heart dropped into his stomach as the words on the screen sent a shockwave through his chest:

“BREAKING NEWS: Escaped Convict – The woman responsible for kidnapping Captain America, Y/N, has reportedly escaped from a maximum-security facility. Authorities and the Avengers are currently on high alert as they continue to search for her.”

Steve’s blood ran cold. His mind instantly flashed back to the dark days in that underground cell, her twisted smile, her grip on him. He’d thought she was gone for good, locked away and forgotten.

But now—she was out there again.

His hand trembled as he reached for his phone, dialing Dr. Carter’s number. He needed to talk. He needed to make sense of this, to process the wave of panic that threatened to drown him.

“Steve?” Dr. Carter’s voice was calm and grounding, always a safe harbor. “What’s going on?”

“I… I just saw the news,” he said, his voice shaking. “She’s out. She’s escaped.”

Dr. Carter paused for a beat, the gravity of the situation settling in. “I understand. Take a deep breath, Steve. I’m here for you. How about you come in? We can talk about it.”

“Okay,” he said, his throat tight. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

Steve arrived at her office, his steps heavy as he walked down the corridor. His mind raced with memories of the horrors he’d faced at her hands. What had she planned now? What did she want from him?

As he pushed open the door to Dr. Carter’s office, a strange scent hit him. The unmistakable smell of blood.

His heart stopped.

The office was dimly lit, the blinds closed. A single desk lamp illuminated the corner of the room, but what caught his attention first was the unsettling sight of Dr. Carter’s desk, covered in bloodstains. Papers were scattered around, but it was the body slumped in the chair that stole his breath away.

Dr. Carter, her face pale and lifeless, was slumped in her chair. Her eyes wide, frozen in a vacant stare. Her throat had been slashed, the crimson pooling around her neck.

Steve’s breath hitched, his pulse racing.

But before he could react, a voice, sweet and eerily calm, spun him around.

“Hello, my love,” she said, the words dripping with an unsettling familiarity. “Long time no see.”

Steve’s body went rigid, his muscles locking into place as he turned slowly to face her.

There, in the corner of the room, was her—Y/N. The woman who had once held him captive, her eyes now glowing with a dangerous, almost triumphant light. She was sitting in the chair across from Dr. Carter’s desk, the chair slowly spinning as she faced him, her lips curving into a chilling smile. Her appearance was different—more disheveled, but her presence was as overwhelming as ever.

His mind raced. How? How did she get out? His thoughts barely had time to catch up as he felt his stomach churn, his hands trembling.

“You…” he croaked, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re supposed to be locked up. How—?”

Y/N leaned back in the chair, her hands casually resting in her lap, a look of pure adoration in her eyes as she watched him. “Oh, Steve, you wound me,” she purred. “You know, it took a lot of work to escape. A few well-placed distractions, some influence over a few key people… and here we are.” Her gaze softened, the sickly sweetness in her voice contrasting with the bloodstained scene around them. “I’ve missed you. I’ve waited so long for this.”

Steve felt his chest tighten. He had thought the worst was behind him. That he could move on, that he could escape her grip. But now, it seemed that she was here to drag him back into her world of twisted obsession.

His fists clenched at his sides, his voice shaking but defiant. “This isn’t over, Y/N. You’re not going to get away with this.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound almost melodic, though laced with something darker. “You’re so funny, Steve. Always trying to stop me. But I’m not going anywhere this time.” She stood up, slowly, deliberately, as if savoring the moment. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us… about the future we’ll have together. I’ve made plans, Steve. Big plans. You and me, a life we deserve, a future I’ve already mapped out.”

Steve took a step back, trying to remain calm, but his body was on high alert. He couldn’t let her get too close. “This isn’t love. You never loved me. You’re sick, Y/N.”

Her face twisted, hurt flashing in her eyes, before she quickly masked it with a forced smile. “You don’t understand, do you?” she said, her tone soft but insistent. “I’ve done everything for you. All of this—this life—is for us. You’ll see soon enough, Steve. Once we’re together, you’ll understand what I’ve done for you.”

The air in the room felt suffocating as she took a slow step toward him, a predatory glint in her eyes. Steve’s instincts screamed at him to run, to fight, but he couldn’t let her drag him back into her world of madness again.

“Stay back,” he warned, his voice hoarse. “This ends now, Y/N. I’m not coming back to you. I won’t be your prisoner again.”

She stopped in her tracks, the smile faltering. “You will, Steve. You have to. We’re meant to be. You’ll understand, eventually. You’ll come to me, just like I’ve always known you would.”

Steve’s stomach twisted. “You’ll never make me love you. Never.”

Y/N’s eyes flickered with a flash of something darker—anger. “You will,” she said quietly, her hands twitching at her sides. “You just need time. But you’re mine, Steve. You always have been.”

The tension in the room was palpable, the silence hanging heavy as both of them stood there—locked in a battle of wills.

And Steve knew, with sickening clarity, that this wasn’t over. Far from it.

[weregonnaneedabiggerboat]

Thanks for your response! QwQ I didn't think anyone was actually going to read this so this was a nice surprise!!

Anyway, I think you've misunderstood my point—

I was being a little tongue in cheek with the whole "I'm a Jax apologist", he is DEFINITELY a jerk most of the time and VERY socially inept, it's kind of funny at times

I wasn't trying to make him look harmless, hell, I never even said he was! I was only saying that a lot of the people in this fandom villainize him a lot and defend characters like Ragatha and Gangle.

Most videos I see on YouTube discussing him completely strip him of any humanity and character, and reduce him to just an asshole that's there to torment people and that he's going to be the big bloodthirsty villain in the end. This is especially with the "Jax is an NPC" theory but that seems to have died down after episode 4

What I was really trying to get at here is that, in my opinion, we aren't shown any proof on screen that Jax deserves to be treated worse than the other characters. Based off of what we've seen so far, the most innocent characters here are Kinger and Pomni, but even Kinger subtly implies in his conversation with Pomni that he was responsible for his wife's abstraction.

Jax's behaviour isn't innocent, but it's not completely incomprehensible. Thinking about things in his perspective, it gets easier to understand why he acts out in the ways he does. People tend to lose their minds in different ways; Jax is trying his best to ignore the situation he's in all together, and keep thinking that he's making the choice to play this video game, when in the back of his mind he knows he's trapped here just like everyone else.

In regards to breaking Gangle's mask, Ragatha could be exaggerating as most people do when she says "You ALWAYS do this!", she could be referring to how mean Jax is in general. But I also want to bring up that in this scene, Ragatha also immediately went to arguing with Jax instead of trying to help Gangle with her mask. This makes both Gangle and Ragatha have the same habit of focusing more on the punishment than on actually solving anything.

Basically; I don't think it's fair to villainize Jax and excuse Gangle's behaviour, especially after episode 4.

A big part of the reason I hate Gangle is because of the fandom's reception of both characters, and it left me feeling confused and conflicted. I had to go back and watch all 4 episodes to compare the characters again and it certainly was an experience lol

Jax seems to have a weird and dark/twisted sense of humour, and if he existed IRL I would for sure be knocking some sense into him. But his actions don't come from nowhere, and like Goose said, every character has a reason behind the way they act.

I think it boils down to what you personally consider to be offensive and the types of people you can handle. If I were around a "Jax" character, I don't think I would mind it too much, but I definitely would be constantly on edge and bothered around a "Gangle" character, if that makes sense. It's because personally, I know how to banter with types like Jax, but when it comes to people like Gangle, I just can't interact with them very well. (For example, if Jax made that "let's make her a pinata and beat her up" towards me, I'd react with laughter instead of anger/irritation because it's the reaction he's least expecting, and because I don't feel threatened by something that won't happen)

I personally just wish that people would try to find the nuance in between each character, that all of them are neutral in the end and none of them are without sin. Just because I personally don't see Jax's behaviour as "that bad" doesn't mean someone else won't be hurt by it, but the same applies for the terrible things that Gangle has done, in that I personally see that as abuse that's worse than what Jax does. It's more personal, more emotionally charged, and it's not just petty surface level teasing and empty threats.

It's really important to be fair here. The constant black and white of "Jax is a villain, torture him!" and "Gangle is innocent, she did nothing wrong!" is really exhausting to see and sort of takes away from both of their characters if I'm being honest

I hope this makes sense and I promise I'm not trying to be mean, I just have autism lol so I apologize for the monotone way I speak

"In this world, the worst thing you can do is make someone think they're not wanted or loved." — Kinger

[berrydoodleoo]

once, you were almost a ghost

[celtrist]

Why does Vassago already have merch, we haven't even met him yet

[thedreadvampy]

it's been a strange arc so far

when I was 19-21 and having an extremely imbalanced relationship with someone in their mid 30s I was like 'we are both adults so the fact that this is fucking me up is my fault'

when I hit my late 20s and saw how young people in their late teens and early 20s seem now I was like 'oh wait I was so fucking young I didn't know shit about my own limits or about managing relationships and I don't know why someone in their mid to late 30s would be into that except for nefarious purposes'

the weird bit is now I'm into my 30s - not even that far into my 30s - and while I still wholeheartedly believe that last thing about how young (and self destructive) 20 year olds are, I'm also kind of like 'huh, actually nobody I know that age has their shit remotely together and frankly the reason this fucked me up is because NEITHER of us knew what the fuck we were doing it how to cope, for different reasons and at different life stages, and there probably wasn't any malice or intent to control as much as there was Blind Flailing.'

[snickerdoodlles]

there's a point at which someone's fear of being a dick wraps back around to them just being a dick anyways

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

even though i feel like i can confidently tell when a piece of art is generative A/I, i really don't feel inclined or really even justified calling someone out for it due to the precedent it sets - especially when artists who DO make their own pieces get caught in the crossfire for being inexperienced or making the choice to be more free-form when it comes to character design / consistency...

[spamtoon]

(Out of nowhere, you are approached by a familiar lightbulb-headed Cog.)

Ah, it's you, cat. Thinking you're oh-so-slick. Muttering and whispering under those raggedy whiskers of yours... Thinking I am unable to hear it all...

Well, you've simply underestimated my fantastic hearing. You probably want to know the reason why I'm here, taking a 'break' from my incredibly important scientific breakthroughs? It's quite simple, really!

(She gets close, and squints her eyes.)

I know what you are.

Farewell, now!

(She then leaves the way she came from.)

(Spam giggles immensely, covering her face... it always seems like she's giggling, isn't she? This lasts... at least thirty seconds. Longer than usual.)

And I know what I am too, Sparky! You broke through something, that's for sure. Really, broke through...

(She looks down, continuing to laugh nervously.)

You know, I find it odd you Havent tried to bulb blast me into the stratosphere by now. I mean knowing how you acted with Frostbite. Is there something peculiar about me that you perhaps can't quite track? Something about me that you... don't know what I am?

I know, I know, I'm talking to nobody again. But you were there when I had a moment today with the one the only Frostbite The Bravecog. You may be remaining. Lurking in the shadows. Knowing about these thoughts that I'm thinking.

(The giggling resumes, lasting far shorter this time.)

Your brother's a piece of fucking barp, by the way

(She braces for impact for a few seconds, wincing while smiling, before comically looking around to realize nobody's there. She sighs.)

Wow, okay maybe toony superhero show logic doesn't apply in this situation. Cool.

WAIT I JUST FUCKING REALIZED WHAT SHE MEANT but like. Dude if she meant that then what's the point I mean the whole ahh sellbot department barping knows unless you're Really low on the ladder. Heheh... maybe she did mean what I thought she meant.

Oh i'm so fucking screwed. What kind of bitch gets filament fever

[autism-corner]

hm