#the beauty to my beast ; | eileen |

[soxgetxthisx]

nothing of note, simply a tag dump.

[bornetoblood]

The Magnus Archives as Bloodborne characters, or Bloodborne characters in the Magnus Archive?

Away from my drawing tablet so I’m just gonna assign Bloodborne Characters fear entities Cus they pretty much take place in the same universe anyway. (I could give a lot of them multiple but the fears can have loose definitions regardless and this is just for fun).

The Good Hunter: Probably assumes an archivist-esc role, they see so much scary shit on their trip through Yharnam I find the “living catalogue of fear” thing quite apt. Also they get that yummy yummy insight. Watcher.

The Doll: The Stranger but only by proxy. She just wants to help out they’re just a little uncanny while they’re doing it. Kinda strengthened by the idea that her and Lady M share a soul.

Gehrman: Used to be an INFAMOUS Hunt guy before he got so sad he started slipping into the Lonely every week (basically the Hunter’s Dream).

Laurence: “I am a conduit of the Ceaseless Watcher.” He is LYING! That man REEKS of the SLAUGHTER. It’s the institutionalised violence and Choir motif.

Micolash: Little Distortion man- winding paths and funny mirrors and insanity. Flirted with the Flesh while making all those leg werewolves and the One Reborn.

Rom: Web. She deliberately hides information and holds back the bloodmoon without anyone knowing. Also she is a spider.

Lady Maria: A beautiful Hunt and Desolation meld. She hates both of them but they are in her. Only draws on their powers when she absolutely has to.

St Adeline: I wanna say the Vast. The wiiide open sea. Feeling minuscule in the face of the Cosmos. She’s pretty close the Lonely too but I feel like they intersect a lot in general.

Ludwig: Just a little bit of the Hunt and the Slaughter but he’s mostly a normal guy I think. It’s his sword that’s a Spiral manifestation. Dancing lights and empty promises.

Simon: Gonna go with the End on this one, but only slightly. He wants to stop the cycle of the Hunter’s Nightmare.

Brador: Actually gonna go with the Corruption for him in the sense that the Corruption is decay. But you KNOW that beast hide has all sorts of creepy crawlies in it.

Eileen: The End but merciful. She uses her power to mercy kill people who have fallen to far into other entities. A very neutral party.

Djura: Ex-desolation member. Sacrificed his eye while protecting Old Yharnam and managed to get out of serving the Lightless Flame. Now he just hangs out with the beasts and looks after them.

Caryll: Actual proper Eye avatar here but they only use their power to draw funny runes and figure out how to talk to the Great Ones.

Valtr: Not connected to any entity really he just DESPISES the Corruption and will kill those centipedes at any cost.

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Who'll Stop the Rain?

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/TsbGJuD by Abs_Cats DISCLAIMER: THIS IS THE DARK VAMPIRE ROMANCE VERSION OF BEAUTY AND THE BEAST THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR BUT ARE RECEIVING ANYWAYS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.   A devastating tragedy that upends Dean Winchester's life leads him into the clutches of one Castiel James Novak: a mysterious man who owns a decrepit victorian/gothic-style mansion deep in the Virginia countryside. Why is he so pale? Why does he only go outside at night? Why can't he leave his property? Why is it always raining on his property? Where did the two puncture wounds on Dean's neck come from? And why won't he let Dean leave? Words: 6414, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Charlie Bradbury, Carmen Porter, Adam Milligan, Eileen Leahy, Lisa Braeden, Ben Braeden Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer Additional Tags: Beauty and the Beast Elements, Vampire Castiel (Supernatural), Chronically depressed Dean Winchester, Sam and Eileen are amazing, I REFUSE to forget about Adam, Dubious Consent, dub con, Anal Sex, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottom Dean Winchester, First Time Bottoming, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Dean Winchester, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Castiel is about 190 years old, It isnt weird because Dean is a grown man, Age Difference, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Denial, Forced Orgasm, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Edging, Dry Orgasm, Undead Castiel, Vampires, Sex Magic, my vampires arent Supernatural canon, My vampires are more like Hotel Transylvania canon read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/TsbGJuD

[multitudecontainer420]

some came running, kiss me stupid, seven year itch, witness for the prosecution, ace in the hole, bells are ringing, bad & the beautiful, the cobweb, harvey girls, the band wagon, undercurrent, brigadoon, cabin in the sky, till the clouds, ziegfeld follies, ziegfeld girl, on a clear day, yentl, my sister eileen, fashions of 1934, a free soul, sirk, lubitsch, 3 women, faerie tale theater, storyteller, dreamchild, hotel ozone, boy & dog, lost weekend, quiet earth, road games, duel, the car, death race, turkey shoot, dementia, the terror, little shop, hg lewis, final progamme, punishment park, two lane blacktop, vanushing point, figures in a landscape, boom, go between, secret cereminy, virginia woolf, suddenly last summer, umezu, rampo, beast from haunted cave, night tide, black lagoon, dogs in space, breaking glass, m tezuka, sakuran, picnic, swallowtail butterfly, memories of matsuko, im a cyborg, astaire, a miller, k grayson, dolores gray, telegraph hill, pal joey, busby esther, tourneur, cukor, the blue bird, borzage, ulmer, w castle, invisible man, litte shop, the terror, dementia, bedazzled, bed sitting room, casino royale, modesty blaise, bava, magic christian, sheila, myra breckin, sextette, demy, w klein, anna, les idoles, les poneyttes, georgy girl, beat girl, motorcycle, sister george, skidoo, just a gigolo, russian sf, ikarie, margheriti, queen of earth, field in, alch wedding, satans claw, naschy, frightmare, redemption, metzger, cronen, barker, loved ones, the woman, martyrs, x, final girls, ghostwatch, blair witch 2, raw, thelma, shiva baby, clue, kahn, bogdo, mafu, borden, breaking the, lovecrimes, fassbinder, jarman, russell, waters, drop dead gorgeous, debs, bring it on, roeg. barry lyndon, yorgos, greenaway , citizen dog, wayward cloud, boommee, the boys in the band, invisible waves, magic, 9 to 5, the trouble with harry, postcards from the edge, steel magnolias, the battle of mary kay, best little whorehouse, stick it, jawbreaker, death becomes her, hag horror, lang, welles, superman, popeye, in dreams, images, cotton club, de palma, pennies from heaven, into the woods, sweeney todd, devils backbone, they shoot horses, bloody mama, scorcese, dassin, ossie davis, crooklyn, cleopatra jones, book of numbers, night train murders, last house on dead end, spider baby, streets of fire, wizards, point blank, dirty mary, peckinpah

[bewitchingbooktours]

A Bewitching Tuesday

A Round-Up of Daily Virtual Book Tour Stops

Author Interview- Pariah’s Lament by Richie Billing #EpicFantasy  #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/45ohmLQ

Honey Drop Tome 1 Volume 2 by Alicia R. Norman and Krishtina Mayers #HauntedHalloweenSpooktacular #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3rM0D7k

Vampire Witch by Eileen Sheehan #HauntedHalloweenSpooktacular  #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/46oOpkb

INTERVIEW - WOMEN'S FICTION - HEAVY METAL SYMPHONY by A.K. Palombo  #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3Q8C65C

Guest Blog- My SECOND Life by Simon Yeats  #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/45oh47D

Spooktacular Feature: Taken By The Alpha King by Abigail Barnette ~ #BookTour #Giveaway #Excerpt  #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3tmSy9z

Staked: A Vampire’s Tale by Kim Catanzarite  #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3rJizj0

Spooktacular #UrbanFantasy Spotlight: Catherine Stine’s Guardian of Monsters #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3tw6SMS

Witching on a Star- A 10 Episode Short Story on Kindle Vella Read the first 3 episodes FREE #spicy #paranormalromance #witchromance #vampireromance #KindleVella #Vella https://www.amazon.com/Witching-on-a-Star/dp/B0C76VNWVM/

Dancing Vampires by Cornelia Amiri #HauntedHalloweenSpooktacular #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3F8zqic

Heavy Metal Symphony by A.K. Palombo  #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3tzqpvS

Vampire Iniquity by Eileen Sheehan #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3tiIz52

Nicola Solvinic's new book, THE HUNTER’S DAUGHTER from Berkley Publishing Group, is now available for pre-order: https://bit.ly/3YDcQHB #nicolasolvinic #mysteryauthor #crimeauthor #thrillerwriter #criminology #criminologymastermind #crimefiction #crimethriller

Craving Beauty A hungry beast waits to devour her soul…  #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3FczXj2

An Angel’s Obsession by Celia Breslin #HauntedHalloweenSpooktacular  #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/45ogNSe

Please Welcome Eileen Sheehan as She Tells Us About Her Paranormal Romance, AISLING: In the Land of Wolves, Aisling Trilogy, Book One  #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/3tqvpTF

Heart of the Storm by Valerie Storm #YAFantasy #bewitchingbooktours https://buff.ly/45oXpUT

[lilyharvord]

Lily queen, would you mind sharing your marecal playlist please?

OOOOOOF. Okay so said playlist is not on spotify or any streaming service. It is on my phone. XD But I will share a number of songs on it with you! This is only part of like a 20 hour playlist too XD

Come on Eileen -- Dexys Midnight Runners (the OG marecal song chosen by victoria aveyard herself)

Poison and Wine --The Civil Wars (the other OG marecal song, also chosen by Victoria)

You look Nothing like My Dreams -- Front Porch Step

Landmines -- BELLSAINT

Running up that Hill-- Kate Bush

Make up your Mind -- Florence and the Machine

Heaven is Here -- Florence and the Machine

Howl -- Florence and the Machine

Hunger -- Florence and the Machine

Sky Full of Song -- Florence and the Machine

Heavy in your Arms -- Florence and the Machine

Never Let Me Go -- Florence and the Machine

All This and Heaven too -- Florence and the Machine

Taste -- Sleeping at Last

One -- Sleeping at Last

Eight -- Sleeping at Last

The Chain -- Fleetwood Mac

Rhiannon -- Fleetwood Mac

Gold Dust Woman -- Fleetwood Mac

The Archer -- Taylor Swift

Wildest Dreams -- Taylor Swift

Cherry Wine -- Hozier

Jackie and Wilson -- Hozier

Six Degrees of Separation -- The Script

Walk me Home -- P!ink---> (HELLA SPECIFIC TO THEM, I have edits planned. I can literally see the pieces of the tv show I would pull to make a lil montage for them with this song 😌)

Still Falling for You -- Ellie Goulding

Got What I Got -- Jason Aldean

Evermore -- Beauty and the Beast Soundtrack

[mariacallous]

If the criterion is grandness and grandness alone, then the grandest dame of them all was someone like Dame Edith Sitwell, the poet, who back in the 1950s, at the height of her grandness, would intimidate her enemies by regarding them through a pair of lorgnettes. These days, it’s a term generally reserved for elderly female actors – hearty, salty, imperious. Americans can do it, of course – Elaine Stritch, so very great, so very grand – but may struggle to ascend to the highest reaches of haughtiness achieved by a Dame Maggie Smith or a Dame Edith Evans. You can be a national treasure, meanwhile, without being a grande dame (fight me on this, but I’d say Dame Judi falls into this category). Which brings us to Dame Angela Lansbury.

On Tuesday, news broke of her death aged 96, triggering an outpouring of affection and sadness for a cherished figure and one of the last of her generation of performers. Mind-bogglingly, Lansbury started her career in 1944 after moving to the US from Britain during the blitz and landing a role, as a teenager, alongside Elizabeth Taylor in National Velvet (1944). That same year, she appeared in the movie Gaslight, with Joseph Cotton and Ingrid Bergman. She was around for the heyday of MGM musicals – I remember as a child seeing her on TV in the 1946 movie The Harvey Girls, alongside Judy Garland, and finding it impossible to connect her with the character from Murder, She Wrote. By the time she played the teapot in Beauty and the Beast in 1991 – at a mere 66 – her longevity alone had already made her beloved.

In the US, where Lansbury remained after emigrating, she was both national treasure and grande dame. It feels churlish to say this, but as a musical performer, she was never quite my cup of tea. I saw her on Broadway in 2009 in a production of A Little Night Music, co-starring Catherine Zeta-Jones, who did a quite frightening rendition of Send in the Clowns. Lansbury as Madame Armfeldt was a terrible old ham, yukking it up for an audience beside itself at the miracle of her being alive. I was immune to her Mrs Lovett in Sweeney Todd. Her cameo at the end of the movie Mary Poppins Returns, meanwhile, was the absolute bloody kitchen sink in that mess of a movie. On the other hand, I loved her in Murder, She Wrote.

I’m not sure what this is. Perhaps something to do with TV being able to absorb greater levels of camp than musical theatre. This seems counterintuitive, I know; Broadway is supposed be the ground zero of camp, except it isn’t, not really. The material in a musical is so florid to begin with, the performances have to be very tightly controlled to remain credible. There is a fine line in a musical between thrilling theatricality and everything going Jack Sparrow.

For me, in her theatre roles, Lansbury had too much self-awareness. There was an archness to her performances that seemed to wink at the audience and suggest, well, this business of singing and acting is faintly ridiculous, after all – and of course, when you play it like that, so it is. As Jessica Fletcher, however, she convinced me totally. I liked her as the teapot. Given her god love ’er status, it’s a miracle she dodged being cast as a batty old dame in the endless current remakes of Poirot, but it’s possible I may have liked her in those.

Who is left? Dame Julie Andrews (87). Dame Eileen Atkins (88). Dame Joan Plowright (92). Bassey! I’m putting Dame Shirley (85) on the list, as you must. Anyone who sings I Who Have Nothing draped head to toe in mink and covered in diamonds deserves, possibly, the crown of grandest of them all. Perhaps that was my problem with Lansbury. Never fully a leading lady in Hollywood, or quite a doyenne of the theatre, she seemed modest, likable, approachable. Not a grande dame of the first rank, perhaps, but something warmer and friendlier, whose loss may be more keenly felt.

[verobatto]

Almost there

We had Castiel's "I love you", and we will have Dean's "I Love You Too"

Destiel meta. 15x18 meta. Spoiler. Meta Spec.

Hello friends, are you still alive? I have so much to say my ears are burning and I have the hart in my throat.

I just want scream this with all of you...

Destiel parallels all over foreshadowing the lovers Separation.

Charlie and Stevie.

First of all, let's spot Stevie's wardrobe: YES, PINK (HAPPINESS) Because she was happy to be with Charlie and she meant Charlie's happiness.

Stevie vanished, foreshadowing Castiel's death, and the lovers separation.

We also had Charlie mourning her, dating she didn't want to try this LOVE THING again. But she did. This quote reminded me how Dean called love like the 'L word' for so many years, finally talking about it and naming it by it's name in episode 14x06 with Jack.

'Why her and not me?' Charlie lamenting her lover's death is the same image we got with Dean sobbing and crying in silence, sitting against the wall, with Castiel's handprint in his left shoulder, as a signal of their bond.

Eileen and Sam

Eileen and Sam were another Destiel mirror foreshadowing the lovers separation. Okay, it was dramatically written with all the messages and the screaming via texting, but, it showed us Sam mourning her, but trying to focus on the mission, not letting the hinges despair of loosing her to drag him down.

The big difference with Dean was settled in this reaction, even knowing Sam and Jack were taking care of the AU hunters, SAVING PEOPLE, FAMILY BUSINESS, Dean didn't answer his brother's phone call. He just couldn't, because the intensity of his pain in lopsing Castiel again was too much for him. He couldn't avoid it. He couldn't reject it. It was there. So he started to cry. Because nothing else mattered in that moment he lost Cas again.

I'll go with you

Castiel in his last crusade with Dean, as he always had done since he met the hunter. He went with him to hunt Death. It was a wink to Destiel shippers, because the weight of these quote had always been part of the Destiel's flag.

But there was a foreshadow for the love confession we also had in this same episode:

Billie saying: 'It have always been you' to Dean, putting the focus on our hunter, treating him of Death defy, rule breaker, human disorder incarnate. She also says: DON'T YOU THINK IS ABOUT TIME, DEAN?

When Death calls out Dean with all theses titles, is a implied description of Castiel rebellious angel. And is foreshadowing Castiel's love confession, because for Cas, his happiness has always been Dean.

'Is about time, Dean' and here comes a spec, as you all know, i extensively talked about how Dean will rescue Cas from the Empty, well, i think this quote could be related to it. Because when Dean will enter to the Void to save his angel, IT WILL BE TIME FOR HIM TO CONFESS HIS LOVE BACK TO CAS.

Something that caught my attention too, was Castiel saying 'I got you' to Jack and then to Dean, his two more important persons in his life. He was protecting them from harm. Gosh I want to cry... But not yet because I have to talk about the most important, revealing Destiel scene from all times.

This romantic I LOVE YOU is for you, Dean

First of all, i want to say something DEAN WILL RESCUE CAS FROM THE EMPTY, because he will, and i want you to keep that in mind (Loudly sobbing) so this wasn't the goodbye, okay?

Let's go on...

This love confession was beautiful, and Castiel made it clear he was talking about ROMANTIC LOVE, because the whole prelude in his wordings were perfectly clear. There's not doubt he was confessing his romantic love for Dean. He even mention THE ONLY THING I CAN'T HAVE is the thing that will make him happy.

Is canon he was asking himself what happiness could be!!! It means CAS THOUGHT ABOUT HOW COULD IT BE TO HAVE DEAN NOT JUST AS A FRIEND!!!!

He says too FROM THE MOMENT HE TOOK THAT BURDEN! FR THE MENT HE REACUED DEAN FROM HELL!!!!!! 'It has always been you', Dean!'

You think you don't deserve to be saved or loved, well CAS SAVED YOU, JUST LIKE NOW, AND HE LOVES YOU DEAN!!!

When Castiel says he understood HAPPINESS IS NOT ABOUT TO HAVE THINGS, BUT TO BE, TO FEEL IT, immediately after saying he couldn't have that thing (Dean) is marking to all the audience that knowing HE CAN'T HAVE DEAN, HE IS HAPPY JUST FEELING THAT LOVE FOR HIM. LOVONG HIM AS HE DOES IS WHAT MAKES CAS HAPPY, AND CONFESSING THAT LOVE TO DEAN, RELEASE HIM.

Death called back all the 'bad things' Dean did, which are THE GOOD THINGS CASTIEL MENTIONED ABOUT DEAN.

While naming Dean's sacrifices and protective behavior, and showing him HE DID IT FOR LOVE, Castiel is trying to make Dean to see himself as CAS sees him.

Love yourself, because you are precious, because I LOVE YOU. You are not a monster, you are all this good things I see on you.

He said YOU CHANGED ME! BECAUSE NOW HE IS TALKING RO DEAN, ALL THAT THINGS HE SAID IN THAT BARN WHILE DYING! HE SAID IT TO HIA FAMILY BUT NOW, THESE WORDS ARE FOR DEAN, JUST FOR HIM! DEAN CHANGED CAS AND CAS CHANGED DEAN!

And Castiel cried! I saw him cry, we saw him cry! Tears of love!

My gosh! if this isn't the most romantic dialogue I've ever seen in my life... I don't know what to do!

Okay, now, i have to put my friend's body language analysis:

@mrsaquaman187 wrote:

"His face when he says “I love you” he tilts his head and purses his lips and you can see him swallowing back words. He wants to say “that’s not fair. You can’t tell me that then die” but all he can get out is “don’t do this Cas”..."

Gif set credit @mugiwara-yeet 👇

And OMG!!! Is a confirmation of what is about to come!!! Because Dean is in shock, he can't say the three words back, he just can't, because he doesn't want to lose him again. And that's why he remains against that wall after Cas is gone, because he is suffering for loosing the love of his life, but also because he couldn't say I LOVE YOU BACK TO HIM!!!! HE LOST HIS OPPORTUNITY!! BUT BUT! THE ULTIMATE 'I LOVE YOU' the meaningful, the one that will save Cas, will come soon. DEAN WILL SAID : I LOVE YOU TOO, to his angel, and it will be so important, that will mean Castiel's returning to his hunter. Damn. And we won't need more clown noses, because is gonna be real.

To Conclude:

I don't know what to conclude here more than ,people, we have been blessed, and also, i want my angel back.

I'm sure this is not his end, because there's a hunter there that needs to confess him his feelings and maybe, kiss him.

Thank you and good night, I need more alcohol.

Tagging @metafest @gneisscastiel @emblue-sparks @magnificent-winged-beast @weird-dorky-little-deana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @mybonsai1976 @anarchiana @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @destielshipper221b @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @feathered-castiel @bre95611 @zoerayne2426 @justmeand-myinsight @that-one-fandom-chick @proccastinate @studio-hatter @pepevons @poorreputation @mrsaquaman187 @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @dwstiel @thislunarkiss @ladygon @shippsblog @la-random-fangirl @lets-try-this-again-please @mychemicalobsession514 @destiel-shipper-11

@asphodelesauvage @2musiclover2

Buenos Aires November 5th 2020 11:54 PM

[twinvictim]

ooohh "meet me in my dreams and stay for a while" with henry/eileen

Eileen felt that promise grace her mind once more, one she kept whispering to herself much to the chagrin of the nurses and the security that had attended to her and her wounds the past three days. Eileen guessed they thought she was crazy, and at this point she probably was.

That was okay, she held her promise. Eyes closed she could see him clearly. The blood of creatures neither of them could have imagined before staining his shirt and jeans and that panicked delirious exhaustion that hid behind his furrowed brow like he was merely working through a headache. Henry Townshend was even weirder than she had ever imagined him being before, but for this she was grateful, maybe unreasonably attached to him in the insanity they fought through like thick underbrush. Henry had turned to her, the sinew of the dog like beasts splattered along the handle of the ax he held in a white knuckled fist, and he said something she interpreted as a promise.

"We'll be okay, I won't leave you alone again."

She had to believe he was still alive after that, he had to be, he promised he wouldn't leave her alone again, and this hospital room was so lonely, so achingly empty and terrifying. everything cold and unfamiliar and she wanted some comfort in familiarity that wasn't marred by blood. She worried he'd died of his injuries, that he was lying, that he hadn't been able to stop Walter. the thoughts sent her into a spiraling panic and she had to believe he was fine, he wanted to come, he would, he just had to wait to be allowed to.

That night she found herself staring at the ceiling, wishing she could see him if only to know he was okay, the nervousness was gnawing at her insides like a pang of hunger or need, her head throbbing. Eventually, she felt herself dozing off slightly, and felt something hazy slip into her vision.

"Eileen..." she opened her eyes, her vision blurred and soft, like pillows over her eyes (worse than the damaged eye that had barely begun to heal) seeing his face hovering over her. She felt grass under her arms and legs, and the smell of lilac. She sat up slowly and Henry sat next to her, even in these dreams his arms and hands were wrapped up in bandages, but he was alive, for now in some way.

"Henry? Oh god, I thought...I thought you were dead..." Eileen reached her arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly. Her heart thudded out of her chest, face hot and she almost wanted to cry with relief.

"it's okay Eileen, I'm okay..." Henry murmured when she pulled away. it was beautiful here, but she felt like she had to keep her eyes on him or he would vanish. "I wanted to see you. I didn't want you to be alone but i...I had to leave. But I wanted to come back. I guess for now this was all I could do."

"You did this?" She finally looked around at the field of warm flowers, "How?"

"I think I did...I don't know, I just really wanted it when I fell asleep. I wanted to see you again so bad...sorry."

"Don't be sorry Henry. I wanted to see you too."

They sat in silence, in peace, for a good while. There wasn't any pain here, nothing but this feeling of peace, Eileen never wanted it to end.

"I don't know how long this will be here Eileen. I don't want...I don't want to go, but-"

"Hey, shh, don't worry about that right now." Eileen lay down in the grass and reached for him. Henry hesitated, the soft nervousness in his eyes was endearing and sweet. "When we wake up we'll have to deal with the real world, and I don't want to do that right now. I just want to dream here with you for now. We don't have to be apart here, I know it's just a dream but for now, it's the best dream I've had in a while."

Henry thought for a moment but eventually lay down next to her, reaching over and holding her hand as they stared up at the sky.

"Yeah, I missed you, Eileen."

"I missed you too."

[manifestingdestiel]

🦃 I think Dean came out at thanksgiving. 🦃

Sam and Dean opened up one of the empty bunker storage rooms, cleared out some things and either bought or built a large table so they could have everyone over.

Dean had already told Sam as soon as he brought Cas back from the empty. Sam, of course, was supportive and already knew. Cas and Dean were almost always within the same room as eachother and often when they were the were holding hands. Half of the time they were next to eachother on the couch enjoying eachother’s company. It made Sam so happy to see them happy, and happy together.

Cas was out buying a bunch of groceries, it made Dean a little nervous but he trusted Cas and let him drive his (their) car. Cas had a list of things to buy and if he didn’t find something in one store, he looked for it in another. Were all of these ingredients really necessary? The back seat and trunk were becoming very full. Would this even fit in that morgue cellar they use as a fridge?

Dean set the table with several colorful cloths and placemats and even scored some fancy glasses as well. Sam teased Dean and made a Disney reference to beauty and he beast and then laughed when he saw the candelabra. Dean let our sarcastic laughter and continued to set up the silverware and even put up a few plastic cornucopias. Sam had only been gone a few minutes and he still wanted to feel useful so he offered to help Dean and Cas cook but Dean insisted they had it handled, so then Sam was tasked with decorating. Putting up some plastic leaves and turkey stickers on the walls. Dean cracked a joke about him being too tall and then Sam pretended not to see him and then Dean got annoyed and went to go help Cas bring in groceries.

Dean and Cas get to cooking the turkey and baking the pies first. They put it in a furnace they found near a janitorial closet. Next they work on stuffing and mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans... Somewhere along the line Cas is throwing fruit and Dean is trying to catch it in his mouth and he manages to get a couple, but there was still bits and pieces on the floor they would have to clean.

Sam comes in when Dean was hugging Cas from behind, and Cas was trying to assemble some bridies for Rowena and Crowley. “I’m gonna go pick up Eileen, I’ll be back.” Dean looks over at Sam and noticed that he had changed clothes. “Okay. Oh! You clean up nice!” Sam scoffed, “You surprised?” Dean smiles as Sam waves before running up the steps and leaving the bunker. Dean plants a kiss on Cas’ cheek, and then another before he smelled something burning and quickly moved a pot off the stove.

When all of the food is prepared and set out on the table, and all of the guests arrive Dean and Cas sit next to each other and wait at the table, just chatting about this series Cas has been watching on Netflix. Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex and Kaia all arrive first. Jodie was very impressed with the spread they had prepared. They had brought various sodas in an ice cooler. Next came Rowena and Crowley. They had only come together so they could squabble over who had brought better booze. Garth and his family had come as well, along with homemade cookies. Dean eyes the cookies eagerly and Cas shot him a look that made him quickly settle. Bobby, Helen, Jo and Ash came together with more beers and whiskeys, and even chicken pot pie. Mary brought meatloaf, while Charlie and Stevie bring (store bought) cupcakes. Balthazar and Meg coincidentally arrive at the same time, Balthazar bringing more alcohol (they have so much of it already!) and Meg forgot to bring something becuase she didn’t know it was a potluck kind of thing but it didn’t matter because there was PLENTY to go around. Aaron and the Golem arrive pretty late, they did have to fly here. Aaron hands Sam a butternut squash soup., because it’s all he knew how to make. Jack had appeared a while ago but no one had noticed until he and Claire started bickering over something irrelevant and they teased eachother over her dyed hair and his colorful shirt.

Garth suggests everyone go around the table and say what they are thankful for. He goes first and gives thanks for his wife and kids. Somewhere along the line, Meg says she’s thankful for family and looks first at Castiel, then the Winchesters and then at everyone and she smiles a true and genuine smile. When it was Jack’s turn he had mashed potatoes in his mouth so he tried to finish chewing quickly. Claire snickered. Jack said he was thankful for the life he has and the happiness and joy he gets to experience. Last but not Least it’s Cas and Dean. Cas nods at Dean in encouragement and reassurance. Dean stands up and looks around the table at everyone.

“I, am thankful for,” he reaches out and holds Cas’ hand which resulted in a few hushed gasps, “My loving partner, Castiel.” Dean kisses Cas’ knuckes and sits back down. There were several excited cheers, ‘aww’s, ‘good for them’s and murmurs of ‘finally’. Cas kissed Dean’s hand in return and said to Dean quietly: “I am thankful that I get to be happy, with you.”

[semper-legens]

157-160. Bloodborne Comics, by Kot, Kowalski, and Simpson

Owned?: Yes Page count: Unknown, not numbered My summary: The Hunt has begun. Foul beasts stalk the streets of Yharnam, the victims of the ashen blood plague. But is it enough to just survive the hunt? The Hunter seeks paleblood to transcend. The scientist and the priest seek answers. The Crow seeks her past. And when the veil is torn asunder, one traveller seeks the mysteries of the universe itself... My rating: 5/5 My commentary:

If you know me, you know that I absolutely love the game Bloodborne. Though I hadn’t actually played it myself until recently, I fell in love with its tone, its world, its mysteries as I watched a friend play it. So when I saw that there were four comics set in its world recently, I couldn’t resist. In the end I don’t think I have enough to say about them individually to give each its own post - here, then, is your omnibus blockbuster post with all of them!

First of all, overall these comics did a very impressive job in capturing the tone and feel of the games. Admittedly, all you need to do there is to be Gothic and mysterious, but dammit, they carried it off with style. The art was beautiful and disturbing in equal measure, and I love how instantly recognisable all of the locales from the game were. I was immersed immediately, and really enjoyed the experience.

Arguably my favourite was the first volume, The Death of Sleep. It features an unnamed Hunter seeking paleblood, and finding a child who bleeds white, travelling with them to the edges of the world. The child has more Insight than the Hunter, seeing the strange things that lurk at the edges of their world, and using that to guide the Hunter. It’s a great introductory comic, I love how it plays with the horror of the Hunter experiencing time as a player of the game might, and how we see so many of the major NPCs and a few main locations. The Hunter’s story is compelling, and you really feel for them as they try and keep this strange child alive, looking for answers even as the reader knows there are few to be found.

The second volume, The Healing Thirst, has the most traditional narrative. It follows a scholar who is researching the plague that befouls Yharnam, with the help of a priest he found along the way. The whole thing is told in their shifting POVs, in a way that seems oddly familiar with the notes the player might find about the world in-game. I really liked this glimpse at a pre-game Yharnam, a version of the city on its way to collapse but not quite there yet. The priest and the scholar were interesting characters too - even though it’s something of a foregone conclusion that they’re likely doomed, there was enough personality and complexity there to sustain me.

Then comes A Song of Crows, which largely deals with Eileen the Crow, an NPC from the game. Her backstory is told, in snatches and fragments, as she loops through time back and forth at the behest of strange things beyond her understanding. She, like the Hunter, is naturally confused at this, but tries to parse it out as best she can. I love Eileen, she’s one of my favourite NPCs, and so I absolutely loved this look at her story. The way time is used in this volume is also really cool and interesting, past and present and future bleeding together in a way that the reader can puzzle out the story being told, but you have to put a bit of work in.

The last volume is The Veil, Torn Asunder, which was also probably my least favourite. I just found it to be too weird and disjointed, and I didn’t connect with the main character at all. I think they should have used an NPC from the game for this, like with Eileen, so the reader has more of a connection when things get strange and distorted. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love some weird trippy visuals and ambiguous reality, but I think I was looking for a little more narrative than this actually ended up containing.

And that’s all they wrote! Join me next time for something completely different - a ship, a murderer, and a starving nation.

[ao3feed-destiel-02]

Who'll Stop the Rain?

Who'll Stop the Rain? https://ift.tt/j9cxmXN by Abs_Cats DISCLAIMER: THIS IS THE DARK VAMPIRE ROMANCE VERSION OF BEAUTY AND THE BEAST THAT NOBODY ASKED FOR BUT ARE RECEIVING ANYWAYS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.   A devastating tragedy that upends Dean Winchester's life leads him into the clutches of one Castiel James Novak: a mysterious man who owns a decrepit victorian/gothic-style mansion deep in the Virginia countryside. Why is he so pale? Why does he only go outside at night? Why can't he leave his property? Why is it always raining on his property? Where did the two puncture wounds on Dean's neck come from? And why won't he let Dean leave? Words: 6414, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Charlie Bradbury, Carmen Porter, Adam Milligan, Eileen Leahy, Lisa Braeden, Ben Braeden Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Ellen Harvelle/Bobby Singer Additional Tags: Beauty and the Beast Elements, Vampire Castiel (Supernatural), Chronically depressed Dean Winchester, Sam and Eileen are amazing, I REFUSE to forget about Adam, Dubious Consent, dub con, Anal Sex, Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottom Dean Winchester, First Time Bottoming, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Dean Winchester, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Castiel is about 190 years old, It isnt weird because Dean is a grown man, Age Difference, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Denial, Forced Orgasm, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Edging, Dry Orgasm, Undead Castiel, Vampires, Sex Magic, my vampires arent Supernatural canon, My vampires are more like Hotel Transylvania canon via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/ZOQPYVB October 27, 2024 at 04:16PM

[borealis-strange]

Chapter 3: Spells, potions and books

Summary.

Finally Franco and rRegina embark on an adventure. Their first stop is The Silver, a city known for its enchanted books. While exploring the city they find a girl who has had her things stolen and Regina decides to help her

Notes:

Before we start:

An Ignatio is humanoid species made out of fire.

And an amphibian is species that has the hability to breath under water and walk on earth (Brianna in an amphibian)

The song Franco sings is Triumph for my magic steel by Rhapsody. And the fragment he sings is minute 3:38

And the song Vandal sings its "El libro de las sombras by Mago de Oz"

Tag-list:  @freesiafields @bambirexwrites @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen @vaeya @sirenlovesqueen @moreofthatqueen @eileen-crys​

If someone wants to be added or removed from the tag-list just tell me :}

I couldn't even sleep well that night because of the excitement and anxiety I felt. I packed the most important stuff and went over and over again that I had everything I needed. A few changes of clothes, all the money I had saved and a small notebook to write down everything important.

 During the night I spent tossing and turning in bed, thinking about what I could do in different places; I could explore the most remote areas of the Empire, fight with the wildest beasts or even tame a dragon, perhaps not the latter but still I could try it another time.

As soon as the first rays of the sun came out, I put on my armor and went downstairs to have breakfast.

 Sarinha was in the kitchen, going back and forth to finish preparing food.

 — Good morning Regina! — Sarinha greeted with great emotion — Franco told me you were going to travel — She said while she finished serving the breakfasts.

 — Yes! — I exclaimed — We will travel through the middle of Farfania before reaching the Tree City. And I'll see if I can convince him to go to The Shelter  later. My uncle has wanted to meet him for a long time —

 — I see both of you are quite excited. Even Franco stopped being so grumpy. Although ... I wonder how you did it — Sarinha commented with a small laugh.

 I looked at her confused.

 — Excuse me? Do what? — I asked .

 — I mean… for thirty years I insisted Franco to go out of Step of the king and you; you did it in one night. —

 — Why did you want Franco to leave Paso del Rey? I mean… it's nice to be here —

 —I always figured it would do him good to get some fresh air. Before your arrival, he kept locked up in his room. You managed to get him to go to the forest and now he will travel again —

 —The truth, I do not know how I did it, I suppose I am very insistent or he accepted to stop bothering him — I said with a small laugh.

 — I'm almost sure he did it because he also wanted to explore a little, to remember those days when he was a knight. I'm glad for you. I would love to go with you you but I have to attend the tavern —

 — When we return, we could attend the tavern — I said amused — So you can travel! —

 Sarinha laughed at my proposal.

 — I'll keep it in mind —

 I went out to the dining room, and surprisingly, Franco was already there, quietly drinking  a coffee.

I put the plates on the table and we began to eat in silence.

Something in me told me that Franco was going to regret it at the last minute, maybe he was going to use some of his usual excuses. Although I was doubting that that was going to happen. I had to say that Franco also looked excited about our trip, although it seemed that he wanted to repress it.

 — Are you ready to go? — Franco said once we finished eating.

 I nodded with great emotion.

Franco took his backpack and we headed to the exit.

 — Have a good trip and do not forget to write to me whenever you can — Sarinha said goodbye.

 We said goodbye to her and promised to return in a couple of weeks.

 We went through the town in complete silence. It was strange to see the town so empty, in a way I had gotten used to seeing people at all hours.

I hoped that at any moment Franco would say that he already wanted to return, it was something he had to keep in mind. But that moment never came, maybe it would come later.

 We walked for an hour along the path that took you to Paladium city.

 We found a traveler who was driving a cart, apparently he was a recurring customer at Sarinha's tavern and knew Franco, although I could not recognize him.

 And so we started our journey, on the back of a full wagon. It was different from what he expected but that did not take away the charm of it.

 After an hour of travel the familiar forest began to change. It was quite beautiful. It was the same as four years ago, when I arrived at Step of the king by this same road.

 In this area, the trees were more widely spaced, revealing part of the sky, which did not have a single cloud. Even in some areas you could see the high mountains with snow in the distance.

For someone who passed here every day it could be a common landscape but for me it was impressive, or at least different. I had grown up in the darkness of The Shelter and later in the colorful trees of Step of the king. It was just beautiful to see how everything changed as we progressed.

When he turned to see Franco, he seemed to be just as fascinated with the road, he smiled and looked around him like a young traveler on his first adventure. To tell the truth, it was the first time I had seen him this happy.

 — Why do you smile? — I asked.

 — I remembered the old days — Franco said calmly.

 — The old days? — I asked amused.

 — Yes — He answered now with a bigger smile — I remember how I traveled throughout the Empire with my friends. On the way we would always sing the classic chivalric songs and tell bad jokes. The trips of hours seemed only minutes —

 — Chivalric songs? Like which? —

 — I'm not going to be singing - Franco said —I've never been good at singing and even less after so many years —

 — Please — I begged —I have never heard of those songs -

 Franco sighed heavily.

 — Ok — He accepted — But only a part and also I don't want you to complain about my voice and don't say I didn't warn you —

 “Steel all around for the king and his crown

Winds of the dawn are caressing us all ...

Ancelot smiles at the knights' epic cry

Thanks to the old and their emerald sword ”

 His voice was husky when singing, even more than he already had it, but he had a certain magic.

 — It's a very nice song — I commented once he finished singing.

 — Well ... it wasn't the best song of all. There was a Pagan Party, they loved that one. Whenever we set up camp we would dance and sing that song around the campfire until our feet hurt. It was fantastic  —

 Pagan party? I had heard that it was quite a popular dance but had never had a chance to dance it.

 — And were any of your friends a Netherite knight? — I dared to ask

 — Not all my friends were knights. In fact, I was the only one — Franco said with a certain air of pride.

 — Seriously? I thought you were in the royal guard — I said somewhat puzzled.

 — Yes, I was in the royal guard. I met many knights throughout my life but I never… felt very comfortable with them. They are a bit smug —

 I laughed a little at the latter.

 — And what were your friends like? And if they weren't knights what were they? —

 — They were very extravagant. In our little group there was an Ignatio, a shapeshifter, a few animals, and the most powerful wizard I have ever met. They were great and brave. Many times I felt that they were too much for me but we still worked very well together. More than my friends, I came to consider them my family — Franco's smile disappeared from his face — Those were good morning —

 — And what happened? — I asked.

 — What happened was the fall of Farfania. — He said darkly — That bastard Netherite knight ruined my life. He left this mark on me — He said as he pointed to his face — And he took away all the good in my life. That is why I could never go back to the royal guard ... and I could never see family again —

 — That's why you don't talk about it — I said in a whisper.

 — Yes ... it was ... the worst thing that ever happened to me and since then I have not been able to recover from that. —

 I wanted to ask him why he could no longer see his family but I preferred to abstain. It was clear that it was a bitter memory that he still couldn't get over, even after 30 years.

 We didn't talk about it again for the rest of the trip, although he did tell me about his adventures, again. I always believed he was a lone wolf in his youth but this time he did mention his family which made the story more interesting. Now that I thought about it, it was strange that he hadn't mentioned them until now but I didn't give it much thought. Maybe they only brought back bad memories after Farfania's fall, even though so many good times they passed together.

___________________

 The cart stopped in what appeared to be a city after a couple of hours of travel.

I jumped out and helped Franco down.

 — Well guys — Said the boy in the cart — I'm going to make a stop here to rest. Are you going to stay here or are you going to go to Paladium? —

 — We will stay a few days — Franco replied — Thank you very much for the trip —

 — No problem and good luck with your trip —

 We say goodbye to the traveler and continue we our journey.

 — And here is ...? —  I asked.

 — The Silver, known as the best place to get enchanted books —

 — Like the ice walker? — I asked excitedly.

 — Better than that. Fire protection, bane of arthropods, even channeling if you have a trident—

 — Have you already come? - I asked.

 — Countless times. Here I got the books for my armor —

 I felt a bit out of place in the city. I just wanted to stop and appreciate things but people seemed to not have time for those things; They were rushing everywhere and if you stopped for a second they would start to push you.

 Franco had to guide me through the streets so that I would not be left behind.

 It was quite different from The Shelter and Step of the king. Here the buildings were even more impressive in the city center. They were about three stories tall and maintained a certain symmetry in their windows and crooked columns. Something that caught my attention was the integration of painting inthe architecture, in addition to the towers and domes that were used.

 Franco checked us into a hostel to stay for the next two days. He said he wanted to teach me a little bit about enchantments, how to choose the best ones and all that stuff. It would be good for me in the future, although at the moment we couldn't buy any books as we didn't have enough money. (The best books could cost up to 64 gold coins)

 After that, Franco insisted that we go out a bit, that he wanted to see how the city had changed and mainly to find where the enchanted books were sold.

 We walked all over the city and I was lost. Although the buildings did change a little on each street, there were not enough differences to be located; or at least I had not yet recorded them in my memory. I was confident that Franco knew where we had to go even though it seemed that he was lost too or simply his memory of the city was a bit rusty.

 After half an hour of walking around, we found the street where the books were sold. The street was wider than the others and was made of stone. The shops were small with large decorative elements like plants to give life to the monotonous city. This street was much quieter than the rest of the city, with only a few people browsing the shops.

This time I was able to appreciate the stores better. Each of them specialize in different things; some sold books for armor, some for swords, some even for pickaxes and axes. It was fascinating in a way, and I had never really seen so many enchanted books.

 As I continued to look at the books and leaf through a few of them. I heard a scream from across the street.

 “Stop!”

 It was a girl asking for help and surprisingly no one came up with her when she screamed.

 I ran to get to her side.

The window of her store was smashed, and the interior of the store was a mess; bookcases on the floor, book pages everywhere and pieces of glass all over the floor. It seems that a whirlpool had passed through here.

 — Finally! — The girl exclaimed when she saw me — Someone from the royal guard —

 She was about to tell him that she was not from the royal guard, but I held back.

 — What happened? — I asked politely.

 — A boy came in and stole everything! — Exclaimed the frustrated girl — I need you to help me get things back. They are various magical artifacts that are very rare —

 The truth was I was not a good detective but the girl looked frustrated and sad about what happened. The least she could do was try to find the culprit. Although I doubt it's going to be easy.

 — Of course, miss ... —

 —Joanna — she said with a small smile.

 Suddenly, Franco grabbed my arm and dragged me roughly.

 — I'm sorry miss but she can't help you — Franco said seriously as we walked away a bit.

 We walked a couple of meters away and the girl looked at us confused.

 — What's wrong with you? — I said annoyed once I managed to get out of Franco's grip.

 — We came to train and study. Not to ... do social work — Franco said annoyed. — I know you want to help but this is not the right time. You'll do it later — he said calmer this time.

 Yes, but then I won't be able to get the girl's things back.

 — Come on Franco, she is a poor girl who had her things stolen from her. Isn't it the work of a knight? Help people when they need it most — I looked at him with pleading eyes.

 Franco just stared at me with his rough expression.

 — It could be used for training. He's just a boy, how hard can it be? —

 Franco sighed heavily.

 — Okay — He gave up—- But if things go wrong, I want you to come back immediately —

 I rolled my eyes before approaching Joanna again.

 — I'm sorry about what happened — I said with a nervous smile — I'm Regina and I've come to help her — I made a small bow.

 — Thank you —

 — So what happened? To ... give me an idea —

 — That ... vandal, he came and crashed with his giant spider, then stole everything he could before leaving —

 — Alright. Is not too much. Didn't you see where she went? —

 —He had to continue down this street and it's the only thing I have — Joanna lamented.

 This… will be very difficult, impossible I would dare to say, but I was not going to turn down this opportunity. Besides, no one had come to help her, it was the least she could do.

 We scoured the city from one side to the other looking for a clue, rather Joanna guided me through the city. We tried to ask several people about the boy, unfortunately most did not want to answer us or simply did not know.

 We found a tavern. We weren't entirely sure we were going to find too much help but there weren't too many options.

The place was half empty and had a strong smell of cheap alcohol. It didn't seem to be a seedy tavern though. We approached the bar, where an Ignatio was attending, I could notice even more the heat that his body emitted.

 — Good afternoon — I greeted Ignatio — We are looking for someone—

 Ignatio adjusted his glasses carefully.

 — Aha. And what does that "someone" look like? — The ignatio leaned over the bar.

 I opened my mouth to say it when I realized I had no idea. The boy was already gone when I arrived.

 — He was around 25 years old — Joanna came to the rescue — with dark short hair. He was wearing leather armor and his height was more or less like this — She pointed with her hand a little below my head — Ah! And he had a pet spider —

 The man put his hand on his chin while he thought for a bit.

 — Mmm. I think I've seen him. Someone passed through this street like a madman riding a spider. He did a little bit of damage — Ignatio said calmly.

 — Is him! — I exclaimed — By chance did you not see where he went —

 — He probably went north if he continued down this street. If he was going at that speed it was most likely that he wanted to get out of the city —

 — Perfect. Thank you very much for your help! —

 We continued on our way, asking different people to make sure we were on the right track.

 — Why would a boy like him want so many books? — I said while he kicked some stones.

 — I don't know. Most likely he intended to resell them — Joanna recriminated — He has been doing this for months. —

 — Months? —

 — Yes ... And not just me. Also to others who sell similar objects. I’m sure he makes a lot of money selling these things —Joanna complained.

 — What other things has he stolen? — I asked.

 — In addition to books; potions, food, elytras, armor, swords, even tridents —

 — Where does he get the tridents? —

 — There is an amphibian that sells them. He says they hurt a lot because he has a hard time getting them and this vandal comes to steal them —

 Something in me told me that he not only sold the things, those were too many objects and I doubted that he would sell them quickly to steal again in a few days. There must be something else behind it.

 — And how far does this street go? —

 — If you follow it straight it simply takes you to the forest —

 After a few minutes we reached the path that took you out of the city, just as deserted as the one I arrived on.

The forest was quiet but it was clear that the boy had passed through here, leaving mangled branches and bushes in the way. At least we already had a more consistent track.

 The boy was careless enough to leave a trail of him in the woods. Or just the spider was too big. I shuddered at that idea. I didn't want to fight with that huge thing.

 We walked through the forest following the few tracks we have (it would surely lead us to nowhere) I was surprised that Joanna wanted to continue after hours of walking; either she was too persistent or the books were too good to let go.

 In the distance, something was out of place. It was someone whistling, no, it was someone singing

 — Did you hear that? — I asked in a low voice.

 — To hear that? —

 I placed a finger on my lips to indicate silence. In the complete silence you could hear the light sound of the wind against the leaves of the trees, a few birds flapping and ... Someone singing! I was right!

 We carefully approached the source of the sound, hiding among bushes and bouquets. It didn't take long to find the vandal.

 The boy was on his spider singing calmly. On his back he had another sack with things, although they didn't sound like books, it sounded like metal, they must be swords or armor. How was he so fast to rob different stores in one day? Or worst case, because no one had stopped him already?

 The boy walked through a part of the forest with his big spider.

We continued to follow him until he came to a cave, well, more than a cave it looked like a hole in a small hill.

 The boy got off his spider and entered the cave.

 When I lost sight of him, I got up from our hiding place but Joanna took my arm.

She pulled me a little to get back to hide.

 — What do you think you're doing? — Joanna asked quietly.

 I crouched down again to be level with her.

 — What do you think I'm doing? I'm going to face him — I snapped annoyed. I didn't want to waste any more time.

 —We can't go for things now, much less hit him — Joanna replied.

 — Why not? He stole your things and many other people’s things —

 Joanna rolled her eyes.

 — Because I said so. We're going to stay here and wait for him to come out — Joanna said with annoyance.

 Reluctantly I agreed. Why did she want to do it the hard way? We go in there, we face him and voila! We have the things. The boy was quite scrawny, it would be an easy battle if he tries to defend himself. We just need to give him a scare.

The only problem could be the spider, but that was the least of it. So we could just distract it but no, the lady wanted to sit down and waste her time.

 After a couple of minutes (which seemed like hours) Joanna got up from the floor. She took a couple of steps in front of her and raised her hands in the air. She started making strange movements.

 — What are you doing? — I asked for.

 — A spell — she answered without turning to see me.

 A kind of bubble enveloped us and then disappeared in small blue lights.

 — For what? —

 — It's an invisibility spell. That way the boy won't know we're here and we can continue with the plan. Besides that we can make a bonfire if it starts to get very cold —

 —So… we'll just stay here all night — I said bored.

 —That's the plan — Joanna said with a slightly malicious smile.

 Out of respect for Joanna, I didn’t complain. I didn't even have time to tell Franco that I was going to spend the whole night camping with a stranger. He will surely yell at me when he sees me again.

 Every minute I peeked over the bushes waiting to get back to the boy.

 Joanna started telling me about the books that had been stolen from her, mostly books for swords. She even had Sweeping Edge and Efficiency V for pickaxes and axes.

 Enchanting books and selling them was a family business decades ago. She was learning to use the enchantment table, which was much more complicated than it appeared.

I had never used an enchantment table, maybe one time I had seen them out of the corner of my eye. It was an obsidian table with gold and diamond accents on the edges, and in the center was the book that enchanted things. The only thing Joanna knew was that one had to learn an ancient language in order to know what you were enchanted with.

 We lasted there until the sun went down. How much could the boy do in there? He sure got tired of stealing so many things like the little bastard he is.

The truth is, I was also falling asleep a bit, not so much from fatigue but from boredom.

 In the dark, the forest was ten times more gloomy. The only source of natural light was the moon. In addition to the campfire that we had lit, and that casted long, terrifying shadows.

Truth be told, my uncle's castle scared me more, at least when I was little. There was no sunlight coming in there, and there were large paintings of ancient kings in all the corridors.

My uncle said that the paintings moved and I naturally spent hours observing them. They never moved an inch, so I guess he just said it to get me to stop bothering him or to do something other than try to get out of the castle.

Now that I remember, there was a painting of my uncle with the other kings. There was the Netherite knight, in his black armor and imposing white eyes. It was the only image I knew of the knight.

 —I know you're not from the royal guard — Joanna said out of nowhere.

 That took me completely out of my memories and I was completely off guard.

 — W ... what? That’s not true — I said defensively.

 —You are not — Joanna said again with a malicious smile.

 I felt my face start to boil. How much could I deny it? Also, how did she find out? Because of my armor or inexperience. I was taking too long to answer, it was so obvious.

 — How do you know? — I asked after a minute.

 — I knew it from the beginning, well ... since you told me your name —

 I had no words. My name had no relation to the other, did it?

Joanna must have read the expression on my face.

 —Never say your name to a fairy — She said with a smug smile.

 Oh gods. Now she's going to curse me!

 — Don't worry, I won't do anything to you. I'm not that kind of fairy — She said in a whisper.

 I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding.

 —Why did you lie in the first place? -—She did not sound angry, although I could not decipher her intentions.

 I shrugged.

 — I don't know — I said turning to see the fire — I thought you didn't want my help if I told you the truth —

 — Well ... you were the only one who came to my call — Joanna pointed out — From there I assumed you were from the guard. And when you told me your name, I was surprised. You are a good girl Regina ... but you must think things better before jumping into action —

 I laughed at the latter, I was told that a few times before, mainly my uncle and Franco.

We didn't do much the rest of the night. More than anything we struggled not to fall asleep. I even suggested that we go now that the boy was asleep but Joanna refused, she said it was a bad idea. Which was true but I didn't want to stay the rest of the night in the middle of the forest, besides Franco didn't know where I was.

 — And how old are you? — I said to break the ice and to stay awake longer.

 — Sixteen…. years old — Joanna said in the middle of a yawn.

 — You’re 16?! — I exclaimed louder than I had planned.

 — Yes? What's wrong with it? —Joanna asked, raising an eyebrow.

 — Nothing ... it's just that I thought you were older — She said lowering her voice.

 — Why? —

 — Because ... well ... you already have your own book store and because ... you were able to cross half the city by yourself —

 — The store belongs to my parents — Joanna corrected — And crossing half the city is because I can't lose those books. My mother had a hard time finding the enchantments -

 — I understand — I said while I yawned — I would do that if I were in your place —

 — You did it and that you had nothing to do with this —

 —I suppose it is my duty as future knight — I said mockingly.

 We tried to continue the conversation but Joanna couldn't hold out long.

I continued to struggle with the inevitable. Each time my eyes grew heavier until eventually I fell asleep as well.

 _____________________

 — Regina — Joanna shook my arm slightly — Regina, wake up —

 I slowly opened my eyes to meet Joanna's freckled face. At what time had it dawned?

 — What's going on? — It was the only thing I managed to articulate while I stretched a little.

 — The boy is gone — Joanna said in a low voice — I saw how he left the cavern —

 — So let's go — I said jumping up, completely forgetting about the fatigue.

 We left the bushes making as little noise as possible.

 Outside the cavern was the huge spider sleeping, it was the size of a horse. It was even more disgusting up close, you could see all its hairs and its twisted legs. In addition to giving off a smell like rotten fruit, I had to put up with the urge to vomit.

We walked carefully around it so as not to wake it up.

 We entered the cavern, it was smaller than I had expected. It was barely tall enough to walk upright, although Joanna did have to bend down a bit.

 The cavern was full of various stolen items that barely left room to walk, just as Joanna had said; there were books, swords, tridents, even various pieces of gold. How was it that someone like him had stolen so much? Truth be told, he did not seem very skilled in the arts of combat and it did not appear that he was a wizard either. He must have been very lucky I guess.

 — Look — Joanna called my attention in a low voice — Here are all the books — She said as she pointed to a disorganized pile.

 — Fast. Before he returns —

 We both walked over and started putting the books away in a bag. While doing that, I saw something that caught my attention, it was a dark green glass sphere with small shades.

 — What is this? — I asked as she showed it to Joanna.

 — It is an Ender pearl — Joanna answered without stopping what she was doing.

 — Ender what? —

 — Pearl. It is used to teleport. You throw it and where it falls it will take you — Explained Joanna

 The boy was a thief, if I took something from him, it wasn't something bad, was it? Without thinking much about it, I put it in the bag, you never know when you need it to get out of a hurry.

 — Are these all the books? — I asked.

 — Yes, but then we should go back for the other things. We should have brought help — Joanna regretted.

 We close the bags.

 — WHAT ARE YoOU DOING!? - A shout from the other side of the cavern alerted us. The vandal had arrived.

 We looked at each other before running to the exit.

 — Stop! — I heard the vandal yelling as we ran.

 We ran as fast as we could back to town.

Looking back I saw how the boy was riding on his spider at full speed.

I tried to run even faster but the weight of the books prevented it.

The boy passed us and stood in front of us with his spider to block our way.

 — Give me my things back! — the boy yelled

 — These are not your things. You stole them —

 — I just borrowed them. Then I was going to return them — Said the boy with a smile.

 — Well fight with me if you want the books back — I said feigning security as I pulled my sword out of its sheath.

 — Oh! A challenge — Said the boy with emotion as he got down from his spider — You will see that he will defeat you easily — The boy took out his iron axe, it did not have any enchantment. We were on an equal ground. — A god long ago emptied his soul into him. With letters of pain and oceans of love. Wrapped in it, they sleep rich in power. Recipes to live and spells to die —

 Was the boy ... singing?

I turned to see Joanna and she was just as confused as I was. I waited for the boy to make his first move but he continued with his song.

 I snorted loudly. I didn't have time for this.

 I approached him and punched him in the face. The boy took a couple of steps back from the impact and placed a hand where I had hit him.

 — What's wrong with you? — The boy whimpered — I haven’t finished yet —

 — Well, you were taking too long — I argued.

 — Whatever. I'm ready to fight — Said the boy with a smile. — Close combat. Whoever falls first loses ... — He said as he put away his axe and I did the same with my sword.

 I placed my arms in front of me in defense. The boy was still doing nothing, he didn't know how to fight hand to hand either.

I threw a punch to his face that he barely dodged.

I tried to hit him a couple more times but he managed to dodge them all. He was more agile than I expected.

 Until I finally managed to hit one in the middle of his face. The boy took a couple of steps back before touching his face where I had hit him. 

 The boy recoiled in fear and climbed onto his spider.

 — This will not be the last time we see each other! — Whimpered the boy as he moved away in his spider in the opposite direction to his lair.

 What a… anticlimactic fight, I would say. I couldn't expect too much from the boy, though. Well, maybe some other time I will have a chance for a more exciting fight.

 Joanna picked something up from the floor and studied it for a moment.

 —Vandal — Joanna said with surprise — What an interesting name.— She said while she handed me what she had collected.

 It was a small metal plate, it had the boy's face and his name engraved on it. All in all, it was an interesting and somewhat odd name.

 — The important thing is that we get things back — I exclaimed raising my arms in the air.

 — We will have to return for the rest of the stuff. Before he comes back with his friends. If he has — Joanna said with a small laugh.

 We returned carefully the same way, in case Vandal wanted to ambush us again.

 We found the small entrance but surprisingly, the cave was empty, as if no one had been there in the first place.

 — That’s strange — I said while looking for any clue or trace of someone.

 There was nothing, not even ashes from some campfire or shoe marks before us.

 — It seems that at the end of the day if he was a magician — Joanna commented

 — Or someone helped him — I suggested.

 —  Whatever. We better get back — 

 Joanna guided me back to the city, since I had no idea where we were. The road was long as expected; and my feet ached as did my back from carrying the books.

 We arrived at Joanna's store, where the window had already been repaired and the bookshelves were in their place, as if nothing had happened.

 Joanna asked me to help rearrange the books in their respective places. I accepted.

 After a few minutes, the store was perfect, at least in my opinion. And Joanna looked quite happy with the work that we had done so it was a success for me.

 — Here — Joanna said handing me a book and a small bag of coins — It's a ... reward for helping me get things back — She said with a smile.

 Pick up the book with shaking hands. It was made of purple leather and had some strange symbols on the covers; plus it looked like it glowed slightly.

 — What is it? —  I asked.

 — It is a book enchanted with Sharpness II. For your sword — Joanna replied.

 -—And where do I put it on my sword? —

 — There is a blacksmith in town who will be happy to do it. He does not charge anything —

 My first spell for the sword. I never believed it was such a good one, or that he would get it this way.

 — Thank you very much—- I said even without being able to believe it.

 — Oh! I also have this for you — She said as she rummaged in one of her pockets. She handed me a small notebook and a white feather tied in a small bottle of ink — You write anything down there and I can read it and answer it. It's in case you need something or… you just want to talk to a friend — Joanna said with a big smile.

 A friend. I smiled at that thought.

 We said goodbye and I left the store. Franco must have been worried about me, or angry.

After walking around the city, and asking several people, I finally managed to get to the hostel where we had stayed.

 Franco was in the restaurant of the hostel, eating quietly. That reminded me that he had practically not eaten in an entire day.

 — Where did you been all day? You said you would arrive yesterday — Franco asked as soon as he saw me enter. Surprisingly, it didn't sound angry.

 —I was getting this — I said proudly as I tossed the little sack of coins on the table. — And this — I put the enchanted book on the table and sat in front of him.

 Franco took the book to see it better.

 — Sharpness II — Franco was surprised — Not bad —

 — Can you read those symbols? — I asked as he took the book and put it back in my backpack.

 — Of course I know — Franco said as if it were very obvious — I had to enchant my armor and sword on my own —

 — Seriously?! — I exclaimed.

 — Yes, it's a kind of tradition when you get a new rank in the guard. I still remember that sword. I had called it "The Soul Extractor" a name that inspired terror among my enemies. It had Sharpness V and Fire Aspect. — Franco said wistfully. — In addition to other spells that I do not remember —

 — What happened to it? — I asked leaning over the table.

 — Nothing. I still have it — Franco said shrugging — Right here —

 From inside his coat, he took out a small sphere with a golden chain. The sphere was black with a few green swirls dancing inside it.

 It was an Ender chest, one could store anything there without having to worry about space, probably he also had this armor stored there.

 I was realizing how little I knew about Franco.

 — Can I see it? — I asked excitedly.

 — No! — Franco exclaimed and put it back in his coat — I don't want you to put your hands on an object as valuable as that —

I returned to my seat somewhat disappointed.

— I'm not five, you know? — I said sadly.

— I will show you when you are older — Franco said.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help but smile a little.

__________________

 Vandal hated that… that flying machine. He didn't know why his boss had chosen it, it was horrible, and noisy.

 Vandal walked down the corridors until he found the large metal doors that led to the main room. After some effort, he managed to open them.

Inside the room it was even hotter. Vandal didn't know if it was because of his nerves or because of all the humidity in the air.

 His boss was bent over his desk, analyzing a map. He didn't even bother to look up at Vandal's arrival.

 — S... sir — Vandal spoke with a small voice.

 — I hope it is something important, Vandal. You know that there are still preparations for the new attack — Said his boss severely without looking up.

 — I know sir. Unfortunately, I didn't get the books or anything like that — his boss looked up — Some girls recovered the things, but they didn't get everything, I still have the armor and the swords —

 His boss looked at him sternly with his white eyes.

 — We need the books! — His boss yelled frustrated as he hit the table — What's the use of having so many things if we can't enchant them? —

 — For nothing, sir. B... but I found something better. — His boss turned to look at him curiously — I know where the niece of King Silithur is — Vandal stammered, trembling more and more.

 His boss rubbed her temples in frustration.

 — That's not important. She is not even the heir to the throne — Said his boss frustrated as he returned his sight to the map.

 — The girl she was accompanied by... Franco — Vandal said the name in a low voice as if it were a curse.

 His boss glanced at him and approached him. Vandal cringed even more in anticipation of some scolding.

 — Wow, that is good, very good indeed. Good job Vandal — The man patted the boy on the back. — Until you finally do something right —

 His boss headed for the door.

 — Where are you going sir? — Vandal asked.

 — We will have to make a little visit to an old friend —

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

The Devil’s Daughter Ch. 1

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin​

Pairing: The Winter Soldier X Reader (Bucky X Reader)

Summary: Born and bred to be a monster worthy to lead Hydra into a new age you must decide if you will become the beast they always intended or perhaps something greater... Someone worthy even, of love. 

Warnings: Literally all of them. 18+ only and please read with caution if you’re triggered by violence of any nature.

A/N: Well. Here we go. 

I won’t lie. Writing this was cathartic and I hope that it may be the same reading it. Some serious ANTIFA fuck this up vibes. 

Love y’all. 

TAGS ARE OPEN

You weren’t sure how long you’d stared at your hands. 

They seemed strange things, somehow beyond your comprehension. Attempts to flex the fingers on them had resulted in only an unsettling twitch, you knew that wasn’t the right response, and they were somehow both burning and cold in equal measure. 

In fact, your whole body felt like a contradiction. Something known, yet foreign. Too much feeling, too little. Too hot, too cold. Too still, yet constantly something was moving. 

Had you always been able to feel the flow of blood through your veins? Did each hair follicle always hum as the air moved around you? Who… who were you?

All the memories of the past 20 years hit you with the force of a train. 

Frantically you begin to pace in the small white room, your heartbeat increasing with each lap, your breathing turning into a rapid pant. Your mind steadily piecing things together, for better or worse, pulling who you were back into sharp focus. With that clarity comes something else.

Taking a deep breath your pacing stops. 

There wasn’t a word for what you felt. This emotion went farther than rage, conviction, or vengeance. You think you’ve felt it before, in fleeting moments, but now it’s amplified - along with everything else it seemed - now-

A creaking under your hands draws your attention, pulling you away from that line of thought. With confusion, you gape at the metal bed frame beneath your hands. You’d taken hold of it when you’d stopped pacing and now the metal was crumpled and twisted. 

It worked, you realize. It actually, bloody, worked. A small chuckle trips over your lips - you’d genuinely thought you’d end up like Pierce’s daughter, dead. 

A few weeks ago was the first time you’d seen Eric in almost a year. 

He’d been different in a way you couldn’t name since that night with The Soldier. You knew it wasn’t that he actually remembered what happened - if he had you’d no doubt he’d have come close to killing you - but perhaps an impression of something stuck. Regardless, when the time came for you to go to uni a few months later he’d set you up with your own flat and sent you on your way, saying that you needed ‘time to explore yourself.’ 

It was the one kindness he’d ever done you. 

In the last three years, you’d crafted a new version of yourself. 

She was normal, relatively speaking. Studied business, partied in SoHo with friends, had a string of short - albeit far from vanilla - affairs with several people, fairly typical stuff. 

The only time you saw Eric was for required formal events, someone ascending the ranks within Hydra or the random social event. It totaled to perhaps six or seven in three years. Which was why you were shocked, and a bit unsettled, to see him at your graduation.

You’d been worried his presence would keep you from enjoying the moment with your friends, that he’d pull you into some droll dinner to pretend he was a caring and proud father. Instead, he’d simply given you a cold congratulations and instructed you to meet him at his office the following Monday. 

It still put a damper on your entire celebration - all you could think about was what the hell he wanted from you. Not even the distraction of a beautiful woman clad in leather had managed to remove your worry. 

There had been a million things you’d thought this meeting would be about. You’d run countless scenarios in your head. None came close to what your father shared with you from across his polished desk. 

“We feel it’s time for you to join The Council.” He said as though he was commenting on the weather.

“I-I’m honored.” you stammer a bit grimacing internally. He raises a doubting brow at you before striding over to the stocked bar cart to begin pouring a drink. 

“You’ll be taking the third seat.” You almost choke on your tea. “Is that a problem?” He asks over his shoulder. 

“Not at all,” you say, willing your voice steady. “What position will Jennifer Pierce be taking in that case?” Alexander Pierce headed the US arm of Hydra and to your knowledge, the third seat had been intended for his daughter. 

“Jennifer Pierce is dead.” 

“Ah.”

“Of course-” he says, turning back to you and taking a sip of scotch before continuing- “there can be no ascension of this kind without a trial to test your worth.” You knew as much, Hydra always demanded a pound of flesh - at minimum.

“She failed hers.” Jennifer was many years your senior, had done years of fieldwork and been a trusted confidant of her own father if, she failed whatever trial this seat demanded… “You will not.” 

“Can you hear us?” A male voice asks over hidden speakers bringing you back to the present. 

“Yes.”

“Can you tell us your full name?”

“Catherine Eileen Clayton.”

“What is your date of birth, Catherine?” Ah, cognitive tests. 

“The third of January 1983,” you sigh. “I’m twenty years old, a double Capricorn, and very in control of my faculties. Can we move on?”

A buzz sounds by the door. The noise grates against your newly sensitive eardrums, causing you to grimace. When it opens Eric stands in the corridor, a proud, if not smug, smile on his face. 

“I knew you were born for this,” he extends a hand. You eye it before looking up to meet his gaze. Rather than take it you remain unmoving, waiting for him to tell you what came next. For a fleeting second his eyes narrow before sweeping his arm to beckon you from the room.

“There is one final step before you’ll be ready to ascend to your seat on The Council,” he begins to stride down the hall, expecting you to follow. 

“And that is?” He stops dead in his tracks. Your heart leaps into your throat as you recognize the set of his shoulders, instinctively you brace for a blow. Instead, he turns slowly to you, his expression unreadable as he observes how you haven’t moved. 

“You can rot in that room or follow me obediently to find out.” A too familiar chill crawls up your spine and settles in your chest. Without another word, you follow him. 

As you make your way through the labyrinthine corridors of Hydra’s London base you remember being dropped down here at 10, and having to find your way out - none of the adults you encountered would even acknowledge you existed. You remember training in one of these many blank rooms - both physical and mental - though, torture may be a better word. 

The chasm that opens in your mind almost feels like home, one you haven’t been to in a little while. Quickly you turn your thoughts to how your blood seems to hum through your veins, how loud your steps are, the low tension in your muscles - anything to pull you away from that beckoning void. 

Eric stops in front of a nondescript door, pressing his thumb into the handle. An unseen mechanism whirs to life followed by a distinct click. Before he opens the door he turns his eyes on you, studying. 

“You’ve done well thus far,” he turns the handle, looking forward. “Don’t disappoint me now, Catherine.” You don’t miss the order in his tone. A voice whispers, Yes Papa, but you refuse to let your tongue form those words. 

With bated breath, you follow him. It’s much like a room you remember from long ago, a cell where he showed you exactly the kinds of monsters that Hydra could craft. Behind you the door closes, the locks sliding back into place. 

A cell lies on the other side of the room. Through the bars, you see a woman, nude, her back to you. Deep red hair tumbling in thick waves, her ragged breath scraping over your ears. 

No, you beg silently, not her. Please not her.

Once you and Eric enter the cell, the woman turns red-rimmed eyes to you both. Relief thunders through you as you release the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. This wasn’t Natalia, they hadn’t brought her here as a sacrifice to whatever future lay before you. Though, now the question rattled in your brain, impossible to ignore. 

“What is this?” You ask, lazily gesturing toward the woman. 

“What do you think?” 

“Can we stop with the riddles? Just fuc-” 

You were clearly out of practice. When his backhand cracks across your cheek it leaves you reeling, ears ringing, though you don’t fall. Once you blink your vision clear you look back to him, attempting to keep your face straight. 

“I believe I asked you a question,” he sighs out. 

You answer, “I assume she’s failed in some way, showed some unforgivable weakness.” You try to stop the words but they come anyway, “But you cannot expect me to kill her?”

“Oh? And why is that?” It’s your turn to sigh. 

“Honestly, that is hardly a test. If it gets things moving forward I suppose I will,” the woman shifts her back against the wall at this. “I just don’t know what that will prove.” He smiles, slowly. Clearly you got something right. 

“Perceptive. Killing her would be nothing for you, even before,” you swear the sick bastard looks proud. That void threatens once more, something whispering from the darkness. You push it away. 

“However, you’re wrong about her crime. She’s not here for being weak or unworthy, rather, she has refused to fall in line. We have no need for an unbroken horse.” He pauses, striding to the other side of the cell.

With his back turned, you look into her eyes. They burn with a fire you recognize - for an instant, you’re 11 again, you can feel the weight of that gun in your hands, hear your Mother’s voice- 

“But you won’t be putting her down.” The sound of another lock clicking draws your focus to where Eric stands, hands behind his back. 

A panel slides open with a swish. Eric steps aside just enough and you see him, The Soldier. 

He’d been gone when you’d woken in the late afternoon years ago, like some macabre guardian angel. Habitually, your fingers stroke the scar on your palm, remembering how gentle he’d been as he sutured the cut. 

The woman begins to sob. A broken, “No,” slipping out here and there.

Eric turns back to you, a wicked smile coloring his features. “The Fist of Hydra,” he walks back to stand beside you, The Soldier doesn’t move. 

“You remember him don’t you?” Your heart begins to beat a tattoo of alarm against your ribs. “I showed him to you when you were a child.” 

“Yes,” you will your heart to quiet, feeling like it’s loud enough for the whole room to hear. 

“It’s one thing to take a life and quite another to put the blood on the hands of someone else.” He looks down at you, “You’ll prove you can handle that, and The Soldier, by utilizing him to remove this stain from our ranks.” 

He looks over his shoulder at the woman, “Be creative. He hasn’t been let loose in some time.” With that, he strolls casually to the far corner of the cell, leaning back against the wall as though he was about to watch some kids play football.

The Soldier steps forward and the panel behind him slides shut, disappearing as though it never was. You study him, searching those pale eyes for some spark of recognition. Whatever had been there before was long gone, all that stood before you was a weapon, a tool waiting to be put to use. It chilled you. 

Behind you, the woman still weeps. It makes something bitter rise in you - pathetic, she was nothing like your mother. Even so, words you hadn’t allowed yourself to remember for so long rise in your mind.

“Always remember that you are more than this.”

“No.” One crisp, clear, syllable. It may as well have been a bomb. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’ll be better than all of them as long as you remember.” Your mother’s voice echoes in your mind.

Languidly you slide your eyes to Eric, “I said, no.” 

Everything goes quiet as his anger builds, a fire slowly eating all the oxygen in the space. What was coming would likely consume you leaving nothing but a husk behind, you don’t care. It feels good. 

Despite the waves of rage rolling off of him, his face remains impassive as he approaches you. A couple of feet away he stops, head tilting to the side as though he was seeing something puzzling.  

“She’s done nothing worth a death sentence.” You state matter of factly. 

“You’re questioning me?”

“No,” god that word felt so good, intoxicating. Maybe you were mad from the power it seemed to give you. It was the best explanation for your next words. “I’m telling you you’re wrong.” 

You read once that wolves show their teeth before they attack. Devils, you know, do the same. 

Eric’s smile is broad as he slips his suit jacket off his shoulders. Your eyes track him as he hangs it over the horizontal bar of the cell. Unhurriedly he unbuttons his cuffs, methodically rolling the sleeves up to the elbow. When he speaks again, he’s unbuttoning a single button to allow him room to tuck away his tie.

“Then how would you address the situation, Catherine?”

“I wouldn’t.” He steps toward you, on instinct you move back, not wanting to allow him a close range to strike.

“You’d allow disrespect to stand? Allow this stain to spread?” Another step forward, another retreat from you. 

“No.” 

“Then what? You’d do nothing to handle this weak-”

“You said yourself she isn’t weak. In fact, it seems to me, the problem is your own weakness if you can’t handle one-” 

Stupid. That’s the only word echoing through your skull as it slams into the wall behind you with enough force to knock a lesser person unconscious. 

Right now you’re not thinking about the bent metal of the bed frame in your recovery room. You’re not thinking of your sensitive ears or the weeks of preparation, or that you lived through the procedure when others have died. 

No. 

Right now you’re a little girl again, realizing your father is the Devil for the first time. Right now you’re the same powerless thing you’ve always been in his presence, the fear of a lifetime suffocating you. 

“Would you like to finish that statement?” Eric growls. You shake your head, too afraid to speak. “I thought not.” His fingers dig into your neck. 

“You’ve grown far too bold. Forgotten where you belong.” He takes a deep breath, eyelids fluttering as though the smell of your terror was intoxicating. “Perhaps you need a reminder.” 

“I’m sorry, Papa,” god you hate yourself for those words. 

“No,” he reclaims the power you’d felt so briefly. His knee pries your thighs apart, “You will be.” 

When his head dips down, the grotesque feel of his tongue against the skin of your neck almost makes you wretch. Before you close your eyes in an attempt to block out everything happening and all you know is to come, you catch The Soldier’s intent stare. 

He looked as though he was straining on an invisible leash, his entire body coiled tension begging for release. 

He’s waiting on something, you think as teeth sink into your shoulder. The pain brings clarity. He’s waiting on me. 

All it takes is one nod to break the invisible tethers binding him. With terrifying speed, The Soldier strikes, pulling Eric from you, pinning his arms and legs, rendering him immobile. To his credit he didn’t struggle, knowing he couldn’t break such a hold. 

“Release me, Soldat!” Eric barks in harsh Russian. The Soldier doesn’t even flinch, his eyes remain locked on you, awaiting an order. “Soldat!”

The fear which had paralyzed you seeps away as your senses begin to return and you stare at Eric. He looks angry but still calm, never willing to let his facade fall for long. Under the surface though, you can hear the racing of his heart, it seems to pick up at the same pace your own slows. The vein in his throat pulses, his breath is barely controlled, and you note the small beads of sweat beginning to form on his skin. 

Weak, something hisses from that void. This time you don’t silence it - you agree, you welcome it, this darkness he so proudly fostered within you. Now you allow the void to rise. He made you this. Killer. Demon. Weapon. The void whispers. And it is not wrong. You were all these things and now-

You kneel before Eric, gripping his chin in your hand. 

“I don’t think he listens to you anymore, Papa,” you say, the final word laced with mockery. You pat his cheek as you stand and pace away, purposely showing your back to him to be sure he knew you were no longer afraid. That you’d never be afraid of him again. 

“I do think you had a point earlier though. About putting blood on someone else’s hands being different.” You turn back to him, wanting to look into his eyes as you say, “It would be a shame to waste such a prime opportunity to learn. Don’t you think?” His eyes widen in understanding that now, the void he created would consume him.

“Soldier,” you look to him, those cold blue eyes unwavering. “Break him, but do not let him die.” 

You had worried for a moment that you needed to be more specific in your commands. After all, you wanted your father to suffer at least a taste of the horrors he’d done to others throughout his life. It only took a few moments for you to see that you worried in vain. Be it training or retribution, The Soldier methodically broke Eric down in ways that would cause the most pain without the release of death. 

For what may have been hours you remain entranced by the scene before you. Every cry of pain was a symphony. The blood on the cold concrete a masterpiece. 

This was for your mother. For every person, he’d hurt. For the child, he’d broken and forged into something irredeemable. 

This was justice. Or at the very least, the justice you understood, the justice he deserved. 

“That’s enough,” you sigh contently. Without hesitation The Soldier stops, stepping away from Eric. 

Your father’s face is almost unrecognizable. Blood, tears, snot, and vomit all paint his features into something different, something grotesque. The outside finally reflecting the sickening soul beneath. Slowly you take in the rest of his broken body, stopping at the wet stain on his trousers. 

“Piss? Really, Eric, you’re embarrassing yourself.” You press your boot to his throat as he’d done to you when you were a child. 

“You once told me, that dangerous miscalculations only served to land one under the boot of those worthy of bravery. Do you remember?” He makes no move of acknowledgment, only stares up at you with one defiant eye - the other swollen shut. 

“Oh you must,” you press harder and he gurgles. “It was just before you made me put a bullet in my mother’s head.”

“Tell me, Papa,” you spit the word. “Am I brave enough now?” 

You lift him from the floor as though he’s nothing but a rag doll and slam him into the wall where he’d pinned you earlier. Exhilaration didn’t come close to encapsulating this feeling. 

“I believe I asked you a question,” you say in an echo of his own cool tone. 

“You… little… devil,” he manages to say with a mouth missing several teeth. A laugh, bright and ringing, pours from you.

“I am the devil you made. Aren’t you proud?” 

With one hand on Eric’s throat, and the other on his chest, you begin to push your fingers between his ribs, pressure increasing bit by bit. 

The tattered fabric of his shirt and his flesh begins to give way beneath your steel fingers. A whimper rises from him that slowly forms into a cry of agony. All you can do is smile as you feel the wet heat around your hand. 

A little further and you feel the beat, the pulse of life that had animated this man for all his days. 

“Goodbye, Papa,” you whisper as you squeeze and feel that pulse cease. 

The silence that follows is absolute. 

Everything in you, and around you, quiet. 

Eventually, you let him drop to the floor in an undignified heap, stepping back. Only then does the void recede enough for you to feel anything more than triumph. Even then, you feel no regret, only the heavy knowledge of the price your actions would demand. 

A trembling breath escapes you as soft shifting sound draws your focus from what you’d done and back to The Soldier. He stands straight, quietly observing you. When you meet his eyes you’d swear there was satisfaction there. 

Fuck it. You’d likely die for this and even with him by your side you were not going to get out of this building unless they let you out. 

“Care for a drink?” You ask, lips quirking in a smile. He says nothing, just cocks his head a bit to the side. You shrug, “Suit yourself. I’m getting one.” Or several. 

To your surprise, the door to the cell opens. You stroll out hearing him just behind you. Good. 

“Hey!” A woman calls out. “What about me?” Honestly, you’d forgotten about her entirely. 

“What about you?” Is all you toss over your shoulder as the cell slams shut behind you. 

There was nothing you could do for her now, hell there wasn’t anything you could truly do for yourself. It would be a miracle if you made it back to Eric’s office without a bullet in your head. The Soldier may even be the one to put it there, he may be biding his time - though something in you doubted this. 

You’d spared the woman all you could, the rest would be up to her. 

The private elevator slides open, revealing Eric’s office, not a guard, soldier, or assassin in sight - well, save for the one you rode up with. You’re surprised but not relieved. They’d come, and soon. 

You raise your hands to rub your face only to be hit with the copper tang of blood - your right arm covered almost to the elbow. Suddenly you’re too hot, burning, your chest tight.

Outside the floor to ceiling window, London glitters like something in a fairytale. You rush to it, pressing your face to the cool glass, forcing your mind to focus on the city around you. Even through the thick glass, you can hear the rush of the wind, the slightest hum of traffic below. 

Breathe, Catherine, you try to coach yourself. Breathe. But you can’t. 

The blood paired with the city sounds that should have been impossible for you to hear makes you realize something you’d been foolish to miss in the first place. They would not kill you. Not now. 

Eric had once said that Hydra didn’t make a habit of wasting good parts, one look at The Soldier was a fair reminder of that. Before, you’d been valuable enough but ultimately replaceable - now you were an investment. 

“Someone is coming.” The Soldier’s voice cuts through your panic like a knife. You turn to see him by the door, arms crossed. Whether he was keeping you in or others out you couldn’t know. 

Taking a shaky breath you nod, “Thought they’d be faster about it if I’m being honest.” As the doorknob turns his hand moves for the knife in his belt. Interesting. 

“No,” you shake your head. He stands at attention instead, looking more like a blood-spattered statue than a man. You lean against the desk as the door swings open to reveal -

“Secretary Pierce?” You don’t try to hide the surprise in your voice, he wasn’t exactly who you’d expect to come for you. 

“Miss Clayton,” he smiles brightly. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here. It’s been too long,” he holds out a hand. 

“Ah,” you hold up your red right palm. “Haven’t had a chance to freshen up. Please, make yourself comfortable,” you gesture to the bar cart. “I’ll just be a moment.” 

Freshen up? You lean against the bathroom door judging yourself. Freshen up. As though you’d been out for a light jog rather than literally shoving your hand through your own father’s chest. Freshen up. Christ. 

You catch your reflection in the mirror and freeze. 

Blood not only covered your arm but had soaked into your shirt, staining your chest, leaving splatters up your neck and on your face. Despite the gore, you looked fresh, skin dewy and bright, your eyes sparkling. It painted an unsettling image.

Even so… you smiled. 

He was dead. That bastard you’d once called Papa. Dead. By your hand.

No matter what followed, no matter what they did to you, your Mother had her justice today. They couldn’t take that away. 

You wash your hands as best you can and wipe some of the blood off your face. Getting rid of the rest would be impossible right now and there was a part of you that didn’t want it gone. Let them see it. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you say exiting the bathroom. 

“No apologies needed. Honestly, I wanted to give you time to process before speaking with you, but the others thought it best we move quickly.”

“I see,” you turn to the bar cart to make a drink. 

“So?” You sigh as you take a seat in the wingback across from where Pierce had settled himself. He sips his drink before speaking. 

“Of course we want to give you time to transition. It will be an abrupt change to your lifestyle, especially for someone so young - but we feel confident that you’ll manage spectacularly. You’ve always-”

“Excuse me, Secretary-”

“Alex, please.”

“Alex,” it felt strange to call this man who you’d known your whole life by his first name. “I’m not sure I follow. I just committed treason and-”

“I’d view it more like taking out the trash.” Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Alex looks like he wants to spit, “Your father was... dedicated, to the cause. However, there are some sins that simply can’t be overlooked.” His intense eyes meet yours. 

“We didn’t know for certain until today how far his depravity went. I don’t ask you to forgive us for that, but as a father, I would never have let that…” He shakes his head, taking a deep drink. 

“I’m sorry,” he looks to you confused. “About your daughter. About Jennifer.”

His face softens, “Thank you.” He sneers, “Your father-”

“Eric,” you correct him. 

“Eric,” he nods, seeming to understand. “He said-”

“Let me guess, ‘Blood will out.’” 

“Yes, as though it was a personal failing - her death.” You look away, disgusted. “But you are not him.” Your gaze shoots back to him. 

“Miss-”

“Catherine,” you say smiling. 

“Catherine. You are what we’ve waited so long for. A child of Hydra, fit to lead us into the new age.” Your eyes narrow. “You’ll be taking your - Eric’s seat.” 

You can’t help but be shocked. Taking what should have been Jennifer’s seat had been enough of an upset, to take Eric’s… It would mean-

“It will be an honor to have you serve with me in the first seat.” The first seat, the head of The Council that governed Hydra, was always held as a joint position. “And it will be an even greater honor when you ascend even higher.”

“Higher?” There was no higher seat. 

“In time.” Alex leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, looking up at you. “While Hydra has many heads it has always been in need of a strong body, one that will not easily bow to the weight of time or illness, one that has transcended so many of our meer human weaknesses. I believe that you were meant to be this body, Catherine.” 

“I… I’m humbled,” you almost choke on the word. It was the right response though, judging by Alex’s smile.

“I will take that as you accepting,” he says it like you have a choice. 

“Of course!” You force joy into your tone. 

“Fantastic!” He stands, raising his glass. You join him. “To a bright future. Hail Hydra!”

“Hail Hydra,” you echo as your glasses clink together. The whiskey tastes like dust on your tongue. 

“As I said, we want to give you some time to transition. However, we will need to move quickly to ensure things continue to run smoothly.”

“I completely understand. I shouldn’t need too much time.” You look around this office, a space you’d spent so much time, a space filled with so many terrible memories. “Mainly, I’ll need to… clean house.”

Alex gives a knowing nod, “Absolutely. You have full power to change and remove,” he holds your gaze for a moment, “whatever and whomever you see fit.” 

“Thank you.” Your eyes settle on the soldier. That sense of conviction from earlier floods you again, the slightest rumblings of a very dangerous idea making their way around your mind. 

“Also,” you stride to the bar cart and refill your drink, making a gesture to do the same for Alex. He accepts. “While I can no doubt protect myself, I will need some additional security to allow me to more fully focus on the needs of the organization. No doubt, there will be those who will see this ascension as overstepping on my part.”

“Unfortunately,” Alex concedes. “You can, of course, have any security detail Eric employed.” He catches your cocked brow, “Ah, yes. Well, you can have your choice of Hydra for your own detail.”

“I had a thought actually,” you take a sip before continuing. “I’d like The Soldier.” Alex looks from you to The Soldier, still standing in the same place he was when Alex had entered.

“The Soldier…” He says thoughtfully. 

“Yes. I’d prefer to not have to doubt the integrity of my security detail, especially given the unique situation I’m finding myself in. Typically someone in this position would have had years to form their inner circle - I haven’t had such a luxury.”��

“Of course,” you add, “he’d still be at the full disposal of Hydra should he be needed.”

Alex nods, “I see no problem with it. He’s housed under European jurisdiction as it is and you clearly have a steady command of him - no small feat I’ll have you know.”

“Lovely.” 

“Any other immediate needs to make this an easier transition?” Alex asks sincerely. 

“Just one,” you walk back to the chairs and sit. “The woman Eric was going to have killed. What was her crime?” Alex shifted, seeming a bit uncomfortable.

“She was a Brown Widow,” he began. 

“A what?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 

He purses his lips, “Of course, Eric wouldn’t tell you about the Brown Widows.” He sighs, “The Brown Widow program is a sister to the Black Widow program. Brown Widows are trained in much the same way, in fact, they begin in the Black Widow program before being hand-selected to be Brown Widows. They’re chosen for having a more… genteel temperament if you will. More suited to domesticity than your typical Black Widow graduate.” 

A memory tingles in the back of your mind, just out of reach. 

“Your mother was a Brown Widow.”

You wanted to marry a spider, your mother had spoken those words when she’d garroted Eric the night she died. 

“Her death was not sanctioned, Catherine. I tried to push for an investigation-”

You shake your head, “It’s in the past.” 

“She was a spectacular woman. Eric always had to have the best-”

“So the woman?” You don’t want to think about your mother anymore. Can’t bear the weight of knowing that she could have killed Eric at any time, could have run, but she didn’t… Because of you. 

“Yes,” he clears his throat, “the woman from this evening, was a Brown Widow. She’d been assigned to a lower level associate. He was apparently… unpleasant.” You note that Alex won’t meet your eyes and suspect you know what kind of unpleasantness he means. “She may have removed a specific part of his anatomy in retaliation before fleeing.” You bite your lip to restrain a smile. 

“Is she dead?”

“Not at all. We agreed with your decision. Some punishment should likely be metered but not what Eric had in mind.”

“I’d like to have her as my personal assistant.” 

“Oh?” 

“What better way to foster loyalty than saving someone’s life?”

Alex smiled, “Wise. I’ll have her sent up.”

“Thank you. I feel that puts me in a good position to get moving quickly.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Alex says finishing his drink and standing. He sets his glass on the side table and extends his hand once more. 

“This couldn’t have been a better outcome, in my opinion, Catherine. You’re going to do incredible things. This is only the beginning.”

You take his hand, giving it a firm shake. “I couldn’t agree more, Alex. Thank you for the opportunity.” 

“We will connect soon.” 

“I look forward to it,” you open the door to let him out. 

As soon as he is on the elevator you call out to Eric’s former secretary. “Anita, can you join me?” You don’t wait for an answer, instead, you turn back into the office to refill your drink and wait. 

She enters a minute later, nervous energy rolling off of her. Her eyes grow wider by the second as she takes in your blood-soaked form leaning casually against Eric’s desk. 

“Slackjawed isn’t a good look for you, Anita.” She snaps her jaw shut. 

“W-What can I do for you Miss Cathe-”

“Madam Clayton will do.” Her eyes somehow manage to get wider, making her look like one of those popeyed pugs she doted on. “Will this arrangement be a problem for you?” The vile woman had served your father longer than you’d been alive.

“No, Madam Clayton, of course not.” 

“Good. I need a change of clothes. One for The Soldier as well, and clothing for the woman being sent up - she should be about a size eight.” 

“Yes, Maam.” She turns, her wiry frame trembling. 

“Oh. One more thing, Anita.” She freezes, no doubt expecting something awful. “I want every bit of information on The Soldier. I’ll need all of this within the hour.” Nervously she eyes the statue-like man, you can hear her heartbeat rise. 

“But, Madame Catherine… I… I don’t.”

“Anita?”

“Y-yes?” You hold her bulging eyes, staring her down until you knew she was about to break. 

“My father wouldn’t tolerate excuses. Neither will I. Is that clear?” 

“Of course,” she squeaks. “Yes, Maam.” With one last glance at The Soldier, she scurries from the room. 

Rounding the desk you finish the rest of the entirely, and annoyingly, ineffective whiskey before plopping down hard in the desk chair. Looking across the room you see that The Soldier had recrossed his arms, eyes studying you with unnerving intensity. 

A lifetime of violence had taught you how to scent it. Right now, it was beginning to crackle in the air. 

He moved so quickly you almost missed it. Almost. 

Your hand moves under the desk, gripping the Glock you knew would be waiting. As he went to vault the desk you push the chair back, rolling you toward the window and aim right between his eyes. He freezes, crouched on the desk, murder in his eyes. 

“I am not your enemy,” you say softly, remaining seated. 

“Hail Hydra,” he sneers. His hatred feels like a slap. 

You release the gun, letting it dangle on your finger, from the trigger before you stand slowly, hands up, and place it on the desk before him. Leaning in so close you can feel his breath you return his hard stare. 

“Fuck. Hydra,” you growl. 

Never had you been grateful that this room was off the grid, Pierce had confirmed that earlier. Had they eyes or ears here they’d have known the things Eric had done to you. Even so… you didn’t dare say anything more. 

It must have been enough because his mood shifts back to a skeptical neutral. Slowly he backs up, standing on the other side of the desk. Neither of you speak, you just stare, assessing if you were friend or foe until a buzz sounds from the phone on the desk. 

“Yes?” You ask pressing the intercom button. 

“I h-have the clothing you requested. The woman should be up soon.”

“And the information on The Soldier?”

“I’m getting it to-together now.” That tremulous little stammer was beginning to grate your nerves. 

“Bring the clothes.” 

One bag contained three pairs of black boots, practical though none of you would leave here in them. The other revealed three sets of black hoodies, caps, tees, and bluejeans. They’d do. 

“Here,” you hold out the pile of clothes to him. He eyes them. “Look, even if you weren’t covered in blood you can’t go out on the street looking like Edward fucking Scissorhands.” Did they have a point in dressing the man like he was on his way to a cheap dungeon?

Finally, he takes them. 

“You can use the bathroom,” you turn to pull your own clothes out. “Oh, and be sure to check them for-” He nods, turning for the bathroom. Clothing could easily conceal trackers and bugs - it was why the boots would remain here unused. 

You meticulously check the clothes provided for you and the woman, pleased to find nothing suspicious. In the small closet where Eric kept a few changes of clothes, you find the trainers you were hoping for. They’d be far too large for either you or the woman but at least you knew they’d be clean. 

Just as you pull the plain black tee over your head The Soldier walks out. His own tee stretches tight across his chest, the metal arm somehow seeming more alarming when paired with the plain clothes. Still, no one could deny that the man was a specimen. 

Drawing your eyes away you pluck the card of hair elastics from the bag, handing one to him. “If you wanted to pull your hair back.” He takes it, his eyes landing on your throat. 

“You still have,” he gestures to his own neck.

“Oh, right. If they come with the woman would you mind letting them in?” He says nothing. With a sigh, you duck into the bathroom to remove the lingering traces of blood. 

You hear the door to the office open followed by a muffled cry of alarm. When you pop your head out of the bathroom the woman stands, still nude, in fighting form. Much more firey than when she was in the cell.

“Don’t fucking come near me,” she growls in an American accent. The Soldier stands several feet away, hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans, hair up in a low ponytail. 

“He isn’t going to harm you,” you say stepping out. Though, you didn’t entirely know if that was true. He’d been ready to eviscerate you not a half-hour ago. The woman throws you a wild glare. 

“I’m Catherine Clayton,” you grab the hoodie intended for The Soldier from the pile and toss it to her. Christ, they couldn’t even be bothered to give the woman a towel to cover herself with. It’s just long enough to cover her.

“I know what you are,” she spits. What. Not who. 

“I highly doubt that.” The woman didn’t know the half of it. “Drink?” You ask nodding to the bar cart. 

“So now I’m invited to drinks?” You can’t help but smile. 

“In defense of my rudeness earlier, I truly thought I’d be dead or worse by now. Seeing as that’s not the case,” you shrug. 

“Whiskey,” the woman says, stepping closer but still keeping a wary eye on The Soldier. 

You pour her a glass and look to The Soldier, “And you?” He simply glares and turns to resume a vigil by the door. 

Surprisingly she sniffs the glass only once and downs it all in one go before you take a drink. You raise a brow and reach for the glass to refill it. 

She shrugs, “If I’m going to go out there are worse ways than poisoned whiskey.”

“I’ll drink to that.” You gesture for her to have a seat. She eyes eye chair and simply leans against it, you don’t miss the slight spark of defiance in her chestnut eyes. 

Rather than sit in a chair yourself you hop onto the desktop, facing her, and wait for her to ask the question. 

“What do you want from me?”

“I’d like to offer you a job.” She looks at you disbelieving. 

“A job.” You nod. “I’m not sure if you’ve seen my resume lately, but I didn’t exactly leave my last position on amicable terms.”

“I’m well aware. In fact, it’s what made you a prime candidate for the position.” She studies you as you continue. “I’m not looking for someone loyal to the cause. I need someone loyal to me.” You can see the flames of curiosity begin to rise. 

“And what does loyalty to you look like?” She asks before taking a sip of her whiskey. 

“Details will come in time. But, from what I hear of you, I feel our intentions may align nicely.”

Finally, she pushes away from the chair and steps closer, “Fuck it. I’m in.” You hadn’t expected it to be so easy. Your skepticism must show. 

“Look, I’d rather answer to a woman than another mouth breathing wanna be Mussolini. And,” her stare intensifies, “anyone with the spine to put down that monster like you did today is pretty good in my book.” 

She extends her right hand. Smiling you hop off the desk and take it. 

“I’m Mara.”

“Pleasure.”

“So,” you release your shake and she finishes her drink, “what do ya need from me boss?” 

“On paper, you’ll be my personal assistant.”

“And off the books?” 

“We’ll get to that.” You nod to the clothes, “For now go ahead and get changed. That hoodie is his.” Tension visibly rolls over her. 

Without another word, she grabs the clothes and disappears into the bathroom. A moment later the intercom buzzes. You press the button but say nothing. 

 “Ma-Madam Clayton, I have the f-files on The Soldier you requested.”

“Good. Before you bring them, how much cash do we have on hand?”

“Oh, I can provide you with the ca-”

“I asked a clear question, Anita.” You’d all need a place to stay until you could get your private finances sorted. With Eric gone it should be easier to do so, especially since you’d spent the last three years building a stockpile even Hydra couldn’t trace. Still, for the next few nights you all needed a safe - or at least safe enough - place and using a card would let Hydra know exactly where you were. 

“Yes, so-sorry Madam. We have over one hundred thousand-”

“Bring me forty of it along with the files.” You shut the intercom off and wait for the tentative knock. 

It comes as Mara steps out of the bathroom. She eyes The Soldier as he opens the door and warily drapes his hoodie over the wingback before standing beside you. 

Anita, carrying two banker boxes stacked beneath her chin stumbles in. The Soldier catches her by the shoulder before she topples, causing her to freeze until she catches sight of Mara. Her expression shifts from shock to indignation. 

She pulls away from The Soldier’s grip, blustering to the small table sitting between the wingback chairs. Straightening her dowdy blouse she plucks a thick envelope from the top. 

“The files and money, Madam Catherine.” She shoots Mara a filthy glare. Mara responds with a fox-like grin that further flusters the older woman. 

“Madam,” she clips out in a nasal tone as you pull the money out. 

“That will be all, Anita,” you don’t even look up at her as you ensure the bills are all there and authentic. 

“Madam,” she says again. Slowly you raise your eyes to meet her pathetic attempt at a confident glare. “This-this, woman,” she spits. “She’s to be disposed of! Your father wanted-” The rest of her words are lost in a garbled scream, your grip on her throat trapping the sound. 

For a split second, you’re a bit disoriented by the speed at which you moved, so much so that you almost squeeze too tight. With effort, you relax your grip. This was not her time to die. 

“Anita,” you purr, “who’s blood do you suppose that was earlier?”

“Mr-Mr. Clayton,” she manages to eke out. 

“That’s right!” You say in a tone one may take with a child. “And knowing that, do you suppose I give one holy fuck about anything that beast wanted?” You stare into her bulging eyes, watch her pasty skin burn red with fear and shame - both tasted so sweet. How many times had she turned a blind eye… 

She shakes her head. 

“Good,” you toss her to the ground. She rolls onto all fours, gasping for air as she crawls away to put distance between you. 

“Oh, and Anita,” her whole body goes rigid. “If you ever bring him up again, I’ll do things to you that would make the Devil himself cringe. Do we have an understanding?”

She nods. 

“Excellent. That is all, Anita.” She manages to rise to her feet, though her body remained deeply bowed as she scuttled out the door. 

You could feel the eyes of the others on you. 

“Does anyone here have a problem with how that was handled?” You ask. The Soldier simply looks at you with narrow eyes. 

“Not me.” Mara hops onto the desk. One out of two was good enough. 

“Here,” you tuck a wad of bills into your pocket and hand her the envelope. “That’s thirty thousand pounds. It should be more than enough to get us ensconced in a good hotel. I’d prefer a penthouse, two bedrooms, with clear sightlines to the roofs of the surrounding buildings. But mainly something as private as possible.” She nods. “Book a room for yourself as well.” 

You cross to one of the bookshelves, giving the bottom a swift kick. The old mechanism groaned as it slid open to reveal a small closet filled with an arsenal. 

“Help yourselves.” 

“Nice,” Mara comments with sparkling eyes. The Soldier doesn’t make a move. 

“There’s another elevator in there,” you tell her. “It will take you to the street.” 

“Where should we rendezvous?”

“French House,” it would be easy enough for you and The Soldier to disappear into the ever-crowded pub. 

“Got it,” she slips a gun into her waistband. “Shoes?” 

“Oh!” You kick off your blood-spattered black trainers. “Take these. I found another clean pair.” 

“See you soon!” Mara tosses over her shoulder as the elevator closes. 

Within two hours you’re walking into the Dome penthouse over The Hotel Cafe Royal. The terrace overlooked the London skyline and provided an easy escape should it be necessary. 

“I have to admit, Mara. I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be,” she kicks off your old trainers, slipping into a new pair. “Money talks, so it wasn’t exactly difficult.” You look out one of the curved windows to the terrace. 

“What now?” She asks from behind you. 

“Now,” you sigh, “rest.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Order food to your room, have a soak, get drunk. Whatever you need.” You don’t mistake the relief that floods her face. “I’ll ring you tomorrow,” you hold up the burner phone that matched her own. 

“Ok,” she sighs. 

“Thank you, Mara.”

“For what?”

“For trusting me this far.” 

“Don’t make me regret it,” she says with a wink. The Soldier reenters the living room and she studies him. “Be careful.”

You nod, “Goodnight.” With that, she leaves. 

“I’m taking a bath,” you say to him. “I assume you chose your room?” His brows knit, a bit confused. 

“There are two additional bedrooms, what did you think I was going to have you do? Stand at attention all night?” His cold glare is enough of an answer. “Pick a room. Order food. Do whatever you want.” You turn on your heel and stalk toward the bathroom. 

You sink under the scalding water, hoping it will help clear your mind, allow the fragments of a plan that had been ricocheting around in your skull become something solid and tangible. Instead... it reminds you of the hot slick feeling of Eric’s blood. 

Gasping for air, you fling yourself from the tub, sending the small table of neatly stacked towels flying into the wall. With no small effort, you force your eyes open, half expecting to see your whole body coated in the thick red substance. 

There’s nothing. Of course, there was nothing. Nothing besides The Soldier, standing in the entrance, concern coloring his features. 

“I’m fine,” you huff, cheeks burning a bit from embarrassment. “A little privacy?” He seems to flush a bit himself and heads wordlessly from the room. 

A shower was clearly the best option. 

You wrap yourself in a plush robe before stepping from the bathroom, expecting to see the soldier in the living room. But he wasn’t there. 

No matter. You head onto the terrace, taking in the spectacular view and relishing the cold night air on your damp skin. 

Now clarity comes. 

You hear the rustle of someone behind you, the slightest hum of gears indicating that it was The Soldier. 

“I’m going to burn it all down.” The words feel electric on your tongue. “All of Hydra.”

Your mother was wrong. You were not more than this, more than them.

She was also wrong about evil. Sometimes the only thing strong enough to defeat it was an equal… 

Your father had made you such an equal. Honed you into a weapon, something as dark and deadly as Hydra itself. Being bred in the belly of that beast you knew its anatomy, its every weak spot, every flaw. 

They wanted to make you the body. Instead, you’d be a cancer, consuming the beast from the inside out. 

You turn to him, “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

His intense eyes seem to sparkle and a slight smile curls his lips. 

“Not at all.”

Relief surges through your body. You knew what you wanted to accomplish was an olympian task and without the strength and fear The Soldier afforded you - well it would have become a near-impossible one. 

A knock draws both your attention. 

“I ordered food,” he says beginning to turn away. “For both of us.” 

The gesture catches you so off guard that it renders you immobile for a moment. When you finally make it inside he’s moving the boxes filled with information on him to the ground to clear the table for food. 

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I ordered several things.” The cart was stacked to bursting and the smells rising from it made your mouth water. But there on the bottom, a familiar package catches your eye. 

Chocolate digestive biscuits. The same kind you shared with him on that night so long ago. Silently you bend to retrieve them, looking from the biscuits to him a couple of times before speaking. 

“You do remember.” He nods. Confusion roils, “Then why did you charge me earlier if-”

“People change.” He pulls the cover off of a trey revealing a cheeseburger and fries and moves it to the table. You think he’ll say more but, instead, he starts eating. The growling of your stomach convinces you to not press the subject and instead locate the curry you can scent hiding under one of those covered trays. 

Honestly, you’d never felt this hungry. You tear through the red curry and move on to another tray, this one housing a second burger and fries. It’s not until you’re done with that and are nibbling on a poor excuse for pizza that you actually slow. 

“I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”

He smiles a bit, taking a slice of the pizza, “I think it’s the serum. I’m always hungry.”

You study him for a moment, “Any other insights on that front?” 

He shrugs, “Things can be overwhelming,” he clears his throat, “sensations. Even your own body can seem too loud. You feel… more. Everything’s dialed up so you may be stronger, harder to kill, but it doesn’t mean shit hurts less.” That was actually very good information. “I’m sure there’s plenty of information in those boxes.” You don’t miss the bitter edge in his voice. 

Silence hangs thick for a bit until he asks, “Did you choose this?” 

“Choose what?” You meet his intense gaze. 

“The serum. Did you let them do this to you?”

“Do you think my bastard father would have let me choose something like this?” You scoff. Anger flares in your chest, “No.” You push away from the table and begin to pace. 

“I was simply informed that whatever life I thought I could build for myself was over. That I had to, yet again, prove myself worthy of something I never wanted and never asked for. That I had better not, disappoint.” You feel your body start to shake, “Because even my death, death at their hands, would have been a disgrace.” 

“I got milk too,” he says behind you. 

“What?” The statement seemed absurd until you turned to see him pouring two glasses, the biscuits on the table. Somehow the sight tamps down the flame of your rage. 

“Oh,” you collapse on the couch, hiding your face in your hands. Maybe emotions, like sensations, were dialed up because you couldn’t seem to get a hold of yours.

“I’m sorry,” his voice comes from closer than you expect. Looking up you see him kneeling before you, worry etched across his face, a lock of hair falling from his ponytail. 

“I didn’t… I should have…” He seems to struggle to find the words suddenly. “I don’t have space to speak freely… ever. And I-”

“You’re free. Or as free as I can make you.” You couldn’t truly grant him freedom that you yourself didn’t possess, but you hoped it was something. The emotion that shows in his eyes is beyond words but it makes your chest constrict all the same. 

“Thank you,” his voice cracks a bit at the end and he quickly stands. 

For the next hour, you both burn through the biscuits in comfortable silence. Once they’re gone you slump back into the deep cushions of the couch, exhaustion crashing over you. 

“I could sleep for three days.” You wished. Sleep and you had a tense relationship at best. 

“You should rest.” He says. 

Sighing you nod and stand, turning toward the master suite attached to the living room. 

“Actually,” he begins. You look back. 

“Yes?”

“You should probably take one of the back rooms. Less direct access from the terrace.” He had a point, there were no actual doors to the master bed or bathroom, just an open space cut up with walls that didn’t quite reach the high ceiling and the terrace wrapped around almost the entire suite. 

“I’ll take whichever. Lead the way.” You hadn’t really inspected the other rooms. 

He guides you to the one furthest from the entry assuring you that he’ll hear anyone who comes. 

“You’ll be safe,” he says, reminding you of the vigil he kept for you years ago - protecting you from the monster in your own home. You nod, in acceptance and open the door. 

“One thing,” you turn to him. “What you did back there, to Eric. Was that because I-“

“I did it for both of us.” You don’t think you imagine the slight spark of satisfaction in his expression. 

“Goodnight, Catherine.”

“Goodnight.” You realize suddenly that you don’t know his name, he never offered it, and knowing what little you did about him you wondered if he even knew… 

That would be the first thing you’d find in those files tomorrow. You couldn’t give him true freedom, not yet, but you could damn well give him his name back.

---

TAGS: @mywinterwolf​  @disagreetoagree​  @breezy1415​  @peachthatdrinkslemonade​  @wonderlandmind4​  @stevehesaidabadlanguageword​  @buckysstar​  @for-the-love-of-the-fandom​  @siriuslycloudy2​  @wildmoonflower​  @cutie1365​  @this-kitten-is-smitten​  @nighttwingg​  @handplucked​  @jewelofwinter​  @whiskeywinter89​ @damnaged-princess​ @the7intheimpala​ @saaamsayshi​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @amorluzymelodia​ @auroraluna777​ @leniaana​  @awkwardlyhot @ilovespideyyy​ @jaxthebookworm​ @docharleythegeekqueen​ @olympos-92​ 

NOTE: Why does The Soldier remember her? Given what we know about him I feel like that may be one of the biggest (most frustrating) questions at the end of this so I just want to share that you’ll get the answer in the next chapter. 

[lifeinpoetry]

Free and/or Inexpensive Kindle Books List - April 2020

I can’t read poetry at the moment due to stress so another list to take the edge off. 

Some books that are currently on sale.

Poetry

Original Fire: Selected and New Poems by Louise Erdrich - $1.99

Collected Poems, 1909-1962 by T. S. Eliot - $2.99

Hybrida: Poems by Tina Chang - $2.99

Collected Poems by Galway Kinnell - $2.99

The Twenty-Ninth Year by Hala Alyan - $2.99

After: Poems by Jane Hirshfield - $1.99

Dome of the Hidden Pavilion: New Poems by James Tate - $1.99

I Must Be Living Twice: New and Selected Poems by Eileen Myles - $1.99

Ordinary Beast by Nicole Sealey - $1.99

Felon: Poems by Reginald Dwayne Betts - $2.99

The Ghost Soldiers: Poems by James Tate - $1.99

Ideal Cities: Poems by Erika Meitner - $1.99

Fire to Fire: New and Selected Poems by Mark Doty - $1.99

Upon the Blue Couch by Laurie Kolp - free & also on Kindle Unlimited for future reference

The Collected Poems: 1956-1998 by Zbigniew Herbert - $1.99

The Absurd Man: Poems by Major Jackson - $2.99

Small Ghost by Trista Mateer - $1.99 or free with Kindle Unlimited

4:30 Movie: Poems by Donna Masini - $2.99

Navigating the Divide: Poetry & Prose by Linda Watanabe McFerrin - $0.99

Nature Poem by Tommy Pico - $2.99

If the Girl Never Learns: Poems by Sue William Silverman - $2.73

Blue Hour: Poems by Carolyn Forché - $1.99

Too Black, Too Strong by Benjamin Zephaniah - $1.85

My Index of Slightly Horrifying Knowledge: Poems by Paul Guest - $1.99

Maybe the Saddest Thing: Poems by Marcus Wicker - $1.99

Witches by Erica Jong - $2.99

June-tree: New and Selected Poems, 1974-2000 by Peter Balakian - $1.99

Dirty Laundry by Deborah Alma - $2.99

When Love Was Reels: Poetry by José B. González - $4.79

Voices in the Air: Poems for Listeners by Naomi Shihab Nye - $1.99

All My Mad Mothers by Jacqueline Saphra - $2.99

How to Cure a Ghost by Fariha Róisín - $2.99

Hijito by Carlos Andrés Gómez - $4.00

In the Absence of Clocks by Jacob Shores-Argüello - $4.88

Fiction

Halsey Street by Naima Coster - free

Rabbit Cake by Annie Hartnett - $2.99

In the Time of the Butterflies by Julia Alvarez - $1.99

The Revisioners: A Novel by Margaret Wilkerson Sexton - $3.99

Plastic Emotions by Shiromi Pinto - $3.99

You Too Can Have a Body Like Mine: A Novel by Alexandra Kleeman - $1.99

Fieldwork in Ukrainian Sex by Oksana Zabuzhko - $0.99 or free with Kindle Unlimited; includes free listening on Audible

How Should a Person Be?: A Novel from Life by Sheila Heti - $2.99

Lakewood: A Novel by Megan Giddings - $2.99

Paulina & Fran by Rachel B. Glaser - $3.99

Beside Myself: A Novel by Sasha Marianna Salzmann - $2.99

Juno’s Swans by Tamsen Wolff - $1.99

Finna by Nino Cipri - $3.99

The Cipher by Kathe Koja - $3.99

Margaret the First: A Novel by Danielle Dutton - $1.99 or free with Kindle Unlimited

The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood - $2.99

On Beauty by Zadie Smith - $1.99

Goodbye, Vitamin by Rachel Khong - $2.99

Beauty by Christina Chiu - $1.99

Journals of the Plague Years by Norman Spinrad - $2.99

K: A Novel by Ted O'Connell - $1.99

Short Stories

Monday or Tuesday by Virginia Woolf - free

Incendiary Girls: Stories by Kodi Scheer - $3.00 or free with Kindle Unlimited; includes free listening on Audible

The Cracks in Our Armor by Anna Gavalda - $1.99

If You See Me, Don't Say Hi: Stories by Neel Patel - $2.99

Speak Gigantular by Irenosen Okojie - $2.99

Dark Satellites by Clemens Meyer - $3.99

Magic for Unlucky Girls by A. A. Balaskovits - $0.99 or free with Kindle Unlimited

eightball by Elizabeth Geoghegan - $0.99 or free with Kindle Unlimited

Whatever Happened to Interracial Love? by Kathleen Collins - $4.49

Both Sides: Stories from the Border ed. Gabino Iglesias - $4.99

Nonfiction

The Ends of the World: Volcanic Apocalypses, Lethal Oceans, and Our Quest to Understand Earth's Past Mass Extinctions by Peter Brannen - $1.99 or free with Kindle Unlimited

A Little Book on Form: An Exploration into the Formal Imagination of Poetry by Robert Hass - $1.99

This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate by Naomi Klein - $2.99

Emergent Strategy: Shaping Change, Changing Worlds - $2.99 or $1.99 for epub + mobi at AK Press

A Woman Like Her: The Story Behind the Honor Killing of a Social Media Star by Sanam Maher - $1.99

Dressed for a Dance in the Snow: Women's Voices from the Gulag by Monika Zgustová

Why Poetry by Matthew Zapruder - $1.99 or free with Kindle Unlimited

Essays

The World-Ending Fire: The Essential Wendell Berry - $3.99

Living by the Word: Essays by Alice Walker - $2.99

In the Dark Room by Brian Dillon - $3.99

Nobody Cares by Anne T. Donahue - $2.99

Memoir

Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness by William Styron - $2.99 or free with Kindle Unlimited

Running with Scissors: A Memoir by Augusten Burroughs - $2.99

The Magical Language of Others: A Memoir by E. J. Koh - $3.99

I'm Just a Person by Tig Notaro - $1.99

Radiation Diaries: Cancer, Memory and Fragments of a Life in Words by Janet Todd - $4.89

The Song Poet: A Memoir of My Father by Kao Kalia Yang - $3.99

Smoking Cigarettes, Eating Glass: A Psychologist's Memoir by Annita Perez Sawyer - $0.99 or free with Kindle Unlimited

[destielfanfic]

Group Ask #183

Relevant links to find lost fic

previous group asks - feel free to browse them!

spnstoryfinders

Guide to Finding Fic

Guide to Finding Lost Fic

PSA - Save Your Faves!

Lost and Found fic post - when mods knew the answer!

Also, please check out our Tags Page and see if the fic in question could be found under some plot/ trope/ pairing related tags! And big thanks to all followers who do check out the tags before sending in the ask!!! <333

And even bigger thanks to all folks who help us to find lost fics! You guys are the real MVPs!!!

Ask #1 ( @canismajor3 ): there’s this fic…#1

hiya, hope ur doing okay in lockdown! ive looked everywhere and cannot find this fic, it’s an au and begins with dean fairly isolated (i think it’s a farm?) but he lives on his own and he finds cas out in a storm, he’s very sick and dean nurses him back to health, somewhere along this line cas begins to look after a lamb that deans gives him, it was really good and fairly long defo above 5000 words, thank you for ur help, i created this account just to ask :D

Ask #2  ( @casuallyfangirling31): there’s this fic…#2

Hey, I'm looking for a specific Destiel fic. It's set during season 6. It's about Dean praying to Cas, and just letting the emotions out after watching a documentary about the civil war, which in the fic is a secret interest of his. After that, Cas comes down and Dean helps to dress his wounds, and tells him a bit about the documentary he saw. The documentary mentioned something about soldiers writing letters that weren't exactly PG back home to their wives. Idk the name or the author. Help?

Relevant tags from our Tags Page - #season 6

Ask #3 ( @givemethebooks): there’s this fic…#3

I'm trying to find a story that centers around either Sam and Gabriel's wedding, or Sam and Eileen's. I can't remember which pair is getting married. But since Dean and Cas, who are in a relationship, are always leaving gatherings early, all their friends say that they won't be able to make it through the entire wedding and reception. Various bets are placed as to when during the reception they'll leave, and they end up teaming with Jess to try and rig the betting.

Ask #4 ( @melon-balls17): there’s this fic…#4

Hi I'm looking for a fic, I've read it before but can't remember the name. It's where Dean is a prince/knight. He goes up the mountain to defeat the beast or something and the wind carries him up most of the way. Castiel lives at the top of the mountain in a bungalow like house and is a god or something, his mother is the goddess of beauty, at the end dean defeats her and becomes the god of beauty, and Castiel's mother is cursed to live as a hag on earth until she dies. Any help would be great!!

Found by @educatedinyellow and @fluffysnarkyalpaca!

Lovers in the Dark by jhoom [NC-17, 42,300 word count] Prince Dean is the most beautiful omega anyone’s laid eyes on. Flowers bloom for the chance to see him, animals climb into his room simply to be in his presence, and not a person in the kingdom can say enough for his beauty. He is universally praised for his lovely green eyes, his freckles, his plush lips and the subtly strong lines of his cheekbones. His family hopes to use that to find a good match and secure an alliance for their kingdom.The gods have other plans. Naomi, goddess of beauty, hears more and more tales of the young omega’s beauty and she hates him for it. The fact that mortals and nature alike would hold anyone’s beauty above her own is intolerable. So she sends her son Castiel, god of love, to infect Dean with an undying love for a monstrous person as punishment for his hubris. Fate has plans of its own…[A retelling of the Classical myth “Cupid and Psyche.” Castiel is cast as Cupid, Dean as Psyche, and Naomi as Venus.]

Ask #5 ( @mattiecat ): there’s this fic…#5

Before I joined AO3, I began this fic: it starts as a human AU, where Dean finds a nude raped Cas in his backyard. Cas has amnesia. However, it takes a twist when Crowley shows up. It was WIP then.

Ask #6 ( @browngirlwithdimples): there’s this fic…#6

Hi do you know a destiel fanfic where cas was a new kid at highschool and Dean was a popular rugby player? Cas is a footballer in the fic

Relevant tags from our Tags Page - #High School, #athlete!cas, #athlete!dean

Ask #7 ( @atarnishedcompass ): there’s this fic…#7

Hi! I love your page, and I was hoping if you could help me find a fix that I’ve scored AO3 and Google for. It’s one where Castiel and Dean are college roommates, Castiel is asexual but while studying sees Dean putting a pen in his mouth and realizes he wants him. Then he has a crisis of identity with Charlie who tells him it’s okay that’s demisexual and that labels change. I think Kevin is also ace but I could be wrong. I think rimming is involved, with Cas trying it for the first time

Relevant tags from our Tags Page - #College

Found by @theactualpiemaker!

For Science by shiphitsthefan [NC-17, 6,000 word count] “Think of it like an experiment," says Dean. "You’re testing a hypothesis as to whether or not a desirable response can be achieved through the stimulation of the anus via the application of a willing volunteer’s muscular hydrostat.”Cas raises an eyebrow. “Are you actually trying to use the scientific method to talk me into letting you lick my asshole?”

Ask #8 ( @justjennyj ): there’s this fic…#8

I'm looking for a story in which Jessica is Dean and Cas's surrogate, but a bad accident causes Cas, Jess, and the baby's death. Dean takes off, leaving Sam to deal alone. When he returns, he has a daughter with someone else and eventually has son that he names Castiel. I've spent a lot of time looking for this fic. Please help. Thanks.

Relevant tags from our Tags Page - #tragedy (fics with MCD)

Important Note - these are all lost fic asks we currently have in our Inbox. If you don’t see your ask here or on previous Group Asks, and if you haven’t received private answer from us, please resend the ask! Recently we discovered that if we include links in our answer, there’s a good chance that it will not reach the OP. A lot of our answers have gone missing and we were only able to find it out thanks to contacting our followers directly via DM.