#unspeakable things will happen if he ever cuts his hair like this again

[tkomptgoedluv]

since we’re all sharing our favourite pictures of joost…

[diana-rose-25]

☆Hidden Divination Teaser

pairing/s: Hashira! Kyojuro Rengoku x Hashira! Reader (for a brief time), Hashira! Sanemi Shinazugawa x Hashira! Reader

warnings: dead dove do not eat themes: brief description of pedophilia, miscarriage, child abuse, child endagerment, child marriage, child pregnancy, death, mentions of sexual s/a, mentions of ptsd, panic and anxiety attacks, miscarriage

description: How can you make noise in an empty can? How can you write with no ink? How can you live without a will? How can you have hope in a world that has relentlessly failed you over and over again? How is (Y/N) still alive after everything? It's a gift, a blessing, as most would say that she is still alive and kind. "She feels like the warm sunshine after the rain," "always smiling, always so lovely," most would describe, yet a certain Wind Hashira will say otherwise. Not because he disagrees, but because he knows — he saw — how a woman everyone says is almost invincible and gifted and warm, has her hidden storm beneath the sky.

Warning: Mentions of past s/a, child abuse, child pregnancy, miscarriage, pedophilia.

“I got pregnant when I was twelve.”

Sanemi was surprised his head was still intact to his neck at how he turned beside the girl so fast. The air surrounding the two of them became heavy with the confession. The white-haired man could only stare silently at the girl with wide eyes, frozen in place, feeling mixed emotions of disgust, anger, (not towards her, of course) and sadness.

"I got pregnant by a much older yet non the wiser man back in my village."

The two of them sat at the porch on one of the Wisteria Mansions provided by the corps for recovery after missions. There are no bruises or cuts that litter their bodies anywhere. They didn't even face any demons this day. Yet, in Sanemi's opinion, this has been one of the hardest and most painful mission he has ever encountered yet.

He wishes Masachika is here with them. He's far better than Sanemi with these heavy emotional encounters, but he's sent on another mission, leaving him to deal with this alone.

The two of them sat side by side, a three feet distance between the two of them. The girl, no older than fifteen, sat with her legs together, back straight, with her hands folded on top of her lap. She's sitting there so quiet and serene, as if she didn't drop the deepest, darkest lore of her origin seconds ago.

Sanemi felt his fingers twitch — to reach out to her and comfort her, or find the damned man who did those unspeakable things to her, he didn't know.

(Y/N) didn't look at him, her gaze focused on the sky above them. It is a wonderful night. There are no clouds that can hide the view of the stars that shine above them, the luminescent light of the full moon, it is heartbreakingly beautiful this silent, serene night. Try as she might hide it, the beautiful night sky also can not conceal the tears that pool her beautiful eyes despite the small smile on her face.

"I lost the babe when he pushed me down the stairs."

He swallowed the lump on his throat painfully, lips parting and closing again as he tried to find the words that are appropriate in this situation.

Sanemi couldn't remember what led to this moment. Maybe it was the mission earlier, maybe its been bottled up for so long that she had to share it with someone, or maybe she's starting to trust him now after a year of joining the corps. He didn't know. Sanemi didn't know many things, and he isn't certain about all the things he knows, but one thing for certain is that he's not going away any time soon.

A gentle breeze caused (Y/N) to close her eyes, welcoming the gentle wind to cress her face in a sense of comfort, and brushes her hair away from her face and wrap her in a cold hug.

For the millionth time that day, Sanemi's heart broke at the familiarity of it all. A long time ago, this exact same scenario happened to a sweet, kind, and beautiful woman who didn't deserve any of it. They had done nothing in their lives to deserve any of this. Nobody deserves the lives they've lived.

(Y/N) felt his presence come closer with caution, as if she's a gazelle that would scatter away if he moved too suddenly. Her eyes are still closed as her smile grows a little. She didn't mind his presence. If anything, she felt safe around him the moment her corps fitting disaster. She knew he wouldn't do anything that would cause her discomfort.

So it came as a pleasant surprise when she felt a caloused yet comforting hand rest on top of hers. (Y/N) opened her eyes and turns her head slowly to face the white-haired man beside her.

Sanemi's lips parted when her eyes met his, it was filled with so much pain and agony as much as it was beautiful. When she didn't pull away, he grips her hand a bit more tightly — not enough to inflict pain, but enough to provide that secure comfort (Y/N) could not find anywhere else other than her father figure Gyomei.

With much needed courage, Sanemi brought his other hand on top of her head, patting it gently with a rare smile, albeit pained.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N)."

It wasn't his fault. He had no need to say sorry to what happened to her in the past. He wasn't there, and he didn't have any part to play in it. Those words had never much impact on her, used to that comment with the select few she shared her story with, but with the way he said so sincere and soft, salty tears unknowingly ran down her face.

(Y/N)'s body shakes into a full sob the moment Sanemi pulled her closer in an embrace, holding her tightly as she falls apart right in front of him.

Yes, there is no more doubt in her mind. Underneath the cold sky and with the stars and moon as witnesses, here in his arms, (Y/N) had never felt more safe and protected.

I do not own Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba) and their characters.

divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx and @inkedreverie

— ©All Rights Reserved @diana-rose-25

[itsmeyaspider]

This is turning into a lovely evening~

Ramsay Bolton x female reader

Trigger warning: gore, violence, sexual harassment, mention of r@pe, mention of torture, r@pe, please be beware that Ramsay is not a nice man, kidnapping, blood kink,forced pregnancy

>>Credits go to the artist<<

~ Before we begin, I want to make it clear that Ramsay is not capable of loving anyone at all. The only thing he really enjoys is torturing and abusing others. You can see it how he treats his fellow human beings, most of the time he manipulates them. Even his father isn't safe from that. The only thing that makes sense to me is that he sees you like a pet or more of a plaything but nothing serious like love.

~ Maybe you crossed Ramsays path once or you work as a maid for him, it doesn't really matter because I doubt he would ever treat you differently.

~ You now have his full attention and believe me that's something you really don't want. Because one thing is for sure Ramsay is a very possessive man and when he wants something, he gets it.

~ I imagine thar he simply takes you from your home, he grabs your (h/c) hair and pulls you into his castle in Winterfell. If your family members were to resist, he would either have them burned to death in agony or lock them away in his torture basement where he would do many unspeakable things. Maybe he let you watch it with your own pretty eyes, just to make sure that you know where your place is.

~ He would lock you away in one of his rooms where only he has access to. Even Roose couldn't do anything about it if he wanted to. Ramsay hates to share things, and if anyone dares to look at you in the wrong way, he'll cut their eyes off or even worse.

~ Your life would be a living nightmare, even if Ramsay would treat you a little bit better than Reek, he would still hurt you. This man is a big sadist who loves to see other people suffer and that includes you (Y/n). Ramsay would enjoy your sweet cries, your little tears or your begging to stop him.

"Please, Ramsay, I'm sorry. It won't happen again" you said, lying helplessly on the could ground, blood dripping from your open wounds, but Ramsay doesn't even consider to stop, the fun just started. And besides he is already hard from you small whines.

~ Every day he would take you, whether you like it or not. You have no ther choice to take is cock and be a good pet. He just love seeing you so helpless, especially when he demolished your body with a dagger. He might even carve his name into your back so that everyone knows who you belong to.

~ Never get the idea of running away, because that would give him even more pleasure he already has from you. He loves a good cat and mouse game, especially when he knows that you can't escape. No matter how fast you try to run, his dogs are always faster.

You run and run as fast as your legs could carry you, there is still a small spark inside you, that you might have a chance to really escape this monster. This thought is quickly ruined as you hear loud barking, your (e/c) eyes start to water. You don't look back once and just keep running, knowing that he has sent his dogs after you. Suddenly you feel a sharp pain in your ankle as you fall roughly on the ground. You let out a pain filled scream as the barking becomes louder. You hear a whistle, it sounds pleased and you know directly to who it belongs to "Now Now...look who I caught. You disappoint me, I thought you had learned your lesson, what happens when you defy me. But don't worry, I'll make sure you never come up with the idea of deceiving me again. How about I cut your little legs? Doesn't it sound lovely?"

~ That only thing what might safe you from his torture is a pregnancy, he would be a little bit nicer to you because he needs an heir. It doesn't matter if it's a bastard because you know what they say "Bastards can make it far this days" . But don't think you're safe now, if you dare to betray him again, he would hurt the child or even worse. After all, he can make new ones with you.

~ Maybe you should also pray to the gods that your child doesn't turn out to be anything like his father.

[bullet-prooflove]

Criminal!Joe - Bleed: Joe Velasco x Reader

Tagging: @plaidbooks @witches-unruly-heart @storiesofsvu @magic-multicolored-miracle @rosaliedepp @cycat4077 @deekaag @cixrosie @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @legit9thlunaticwarrior @thatesqcrush @mydarkestsecretlol @upsteadlogic @wooshwastaken @imaginecrushes @kiwiithecrazybird @justreblogginfics @anime-weeb-4-life @hey-dw @alwaysachorusgirl @telepathay @weiwei0210 @anaferreira-4 @dancingonthebeachatdawn @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @trublu2u @yezzyyae

The Wolf - Joe meets his queen in an unexpected place.

Reward - Joe rewards you for your loyalty.

One More (NSFW) - Joe ruins you when you display your devotion. 

Pictures of You (feat: Mike Duarte) - Mike discovers you're alive.

You’ve been Joe’s girl for over three months when he asks you about the scars on your back, the ones he spends his nights tracing his fingers over. You’re lying on your stomach, drowsy and sated, the sheet barely covering the curve of your ass when he raises the question.

“They used a knife.” You tell him, burying your face even deeper into the pillow. “They heated it up first because they wanted to make sure I felt the blade everytime they cut me.”

“Why?” He asks you, his dark eyebrows furrowing into a frown. His fingertips trail over the largest one, chasing over the raised flesh.

A businessman wouldn’t do something like this, he wouldn’t damage the stock. You’re a beautiful woman, well educated, sophisticated. Clients would pay thousands just to spend the night in your presence. This poses a problem for Joe because the people he deals with are professionals just like him, they don’t supply damaged goods. There’s no way you should have been his shipment that night. That thought hasn’t occurred to him until now, he’s been too caught up in the romance of it all.

“The man I was with, they wanted to hurt him.” You find yourself telling him. “They took me off the street, tried to ransom me and everytime he refused to pay…”

You trail off, your eyes closing because you don’t want to go back to that place, the one where those men recorded every single moment of your agony, your humiliation.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” Joe says softly, his fingertips brushing the hair away from your features so that he can read your expression. Sometimes it’s like looking into a mirror. The two of you are both survivors who’ve endured through unspeakable things, but you’ve come out stronger, more hardened against the world because you understand it’s cruelty.

“I love you.” He whispers fiercely as he gathers you up close, your head comes to rest upon his chest. Your fingertips brush over his own scars, the ones his father left embedded in his skin over thirty years ago.  “Believe me when I say I won’t let anything like that happen to you again.”

“You can’t make that promise.” You say softly. “Noone can.”

Everything about what happened to you bothers Joe.

He can feel the rage searing underneath the surface of his skin as he lies beside you, listening to the sound of your breathing in the dark. He thinks about the men that hurt you, the terror you must have felt, the agony every time they cut into your flesh, and he gets that metallic taste in his mouth.

He hears your words ringing in his ears and it feels like he’s being stabbed in the chest because the man you were with before him…

He wants to kill the fucker with his bare hands for feeding you to the wolves, for letting them tear you apart piece by piece.

He kisses you before he slips out of the sheets, his lips brushing over yours with a tenderness he reserves only for you. You whine as he withdraws, and he smiles just a little because even you’re sleeping you want him. He loves you and he would do anything to make sure that nothing like that ever happens to you again.

Terry Bruno is already waiting for him in the office by the time he arrives. The other man has been his confidant since the very beginning, he’s loyal and fierce, with a sharp investigative mind. Joe knows that he can trust him with the task he has in mind.

“I want to know who hurt her.” He tells the other man as he settles behind the desk. “Track the sale, find out how she ended up in our shipment.”

“Anything else?” Bruno prompts because he can see the fire in Joe’s eyes, he knows there’s something else simmering below the surface.

“I want the man who left her in the hands of those animals.”  Joe tells, his fingertips rapping out a tune on the surface of the desk. “I want to make him bleed.”

Love Joe? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[athy-wathy]

The Stargazer

An original creepypasta by Athy

TW: this story contains gore, fighting, and other implements of sensitive topics

Viewers discretion is advised

The time is June 2006, as Robin is sitting in the back of their parents car, listening to them argue about every little thing. Nothing was new about Robin's parents fighting, except this one was different, their mother was complaining about how Robin was never really present in conversations and was like a hollow shell, while their dad was trying to defend Robin but just making their mother even more furious by blaming her for Robin's emptiness. Robin just kept softly knocking their head off of the backseat car window, attempting to ignore their parents as tears rolled down their cheeks. 

When they all got home, Robin's parents continued to argue. When they all got out, Robin’s mother lunged at their father, grabbing his neck, clawing and scratching at it, clamping down harder and harder. Robin just stood there, eyes wide, as if they were watching it from a third person view, almost like a security camera was watching it all happen and Robin saw through it. In a desperate attempt to survive, Robin’s father grabbed his keys and stabbed their mother several times, bringing her life to an end then and there.

As Robin watched, all trust for anyone vanished into thin air. Their mother had lied lifeless on the ground, their father now up, covered in blood. He looked back at Robin.

“I had to Kiddo,” Their father would say,

“No, no, no you didn’t,” Robin muttered, stepping back when their father tried to step closer. His face tried to look reassuring, but all Robin could see was happiness. Their mother was dead, gone for good.

“C’mon Robin I had to…” Robin's father tried to step closer only for them to step away again.

“Like hell you didn’t have to!” Robin was ready to run, run until they couldn’t.

“Would you just listen to me!” He grabbed Robin and dragged them in the house to the living room where he would repeatedly do unspeakable things to Robin.

As August rolls around, Robin’s father had done even more unspeakable acts to them several times. He had also hidden their mothers body in the basement, a smell of a rotting corpse almost detectable from the backyard. Life was hell more than ever for Robin now.

Now being forced to be homeschooled and just starting to go to therapy, yet unable to tell anything about what’s happened.

“Robin, I feel as if you aren’t telling me something,” Robin's therapist, Kye, was always trying to get Robin to 100% open up.

“Yes, I'm sure Kye, i'm not hiding anything,” Robin was once again seeing everything from a third person view like the day their father went insane.

The next afternoon while walking home from the therapist's office, Robin was grabbed, and gagged from behind, being dragged into the dense forest behind. The unknown man threw Robin on the ground and got on top of them, putting his hand on their throat and started to do the unspeakable acts that their father did.

After he finished his acts, he’d leave Robin alive as he took an axe he had planted there and severed her forearms from the rest of her arms, then her upper arms were cut off of her torso. He then proceeds to sever her shins and calves from her thighs, then her thighs from her torso.

Robin had been dead when we got through her first thigh, still not being able to scream before because of the gag and pure shock they were given from the events.

The man gets a bag and puts their parts in there. He digs a hole in a treeless meadow, somewhere where stargazing would be perfect. The bag containing Robin was thrown in and covered back up.

Five years later in September of 2011, a cult with an unknown name undigs her resting spot and brought her to their meeting spot a few miles away. They restored their body, giving them a porcelain face, missing an eye and a pure white one, they gave their skin as pale as falling snow. Their hair looks the same as the day they died, fluffy, blonde, and short. Their limbs get stitched back together with a strong yet delicate string.

The cult puts them back into the meadow they were buried in and performs several rituals to reanimate them. When they successfully do, they leave them alone in the meadow.

Not knowing what to do, they decided to protect the meadow as their new home, often needing to resew their parts, they use the needles to stab, and kill anyone that comes to the meadow. Any survivors call them “The Stargazer” because anytime they would be seen they are stargazing in the meadow before attacking you with needles and other weapons covered in them.

[chronothread]

Duel

CANTO I: My Dearest Gale.

“Gale. I want you to promise me something.”

“That no matter what happens…”

“You will always be with me. Until the bitter end.”

——————————————————————————————————

It was snowing.

Why was it always snowing? Whenever something happens, it’s always snowing.

Was it a gift? So I would always know when to brace myself?

Or was it a curse? So I would always know when to brace myself?

Every gift that has been given to me has also been a curse.

And I wonder sometimes…

Is my life a gift? Or is it a curse?

How cruel then that I was never given the opportunity to brace myself.

——————————————————————————————————

CANTO II: My Dearest, Gale.

There he stood. In the middle of the snowfields - away from the city, away from the households that dotted Coerthas. He was alone, like he had always been. His pale gold hair flowed gently in the breeze, light bouncing off the surface of his shield and into the ground. He was in his armor - red, black, and gold - his back turned to me. Unceasingly his gaze was fixed upon a pillar, unmoving, unspeaking, unflinching. Though I suppose gaze was incorrect as his eyes were shut - his reflection told me as much. 

“Gale. I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

Lucien.

Of course, he knew I was here. The only one who could ever tell if I had arrived or if I had left. If I was present or if I was absent. Preternatural - but then again - so was the rest of our relationship. There were two possibilities of him being here. Two possibilities and I could not accept one. Only the other.

“I’m late, aren’t I? Or you’re early. Well the important part is that we’re both here. So why don’t we get this show on the road and find out where-”

“Stop.”

And so my footsteps stop. And he turns around slowly and he opens his eyes. And they’re cold. And dead. Those swirling amethyst eyes of his were like…a vortex. A maelstrom that sucked the light and life out from the world around us. A freezing pit that drew what little heat there was from the air and left me chilled to the bone.

I could not accept one.

“You aren’t stupid, you’re playing stupid. You know why we are here.” He takes one step forward. My heart beats once. “You have always been perfectly…infuriatingly brilliant. Too smart for your own good, too clever for the court. You and your whole family. Even when you are cornered the walls themselves seem to reshape in your favor.” He draws his sword. He draws it, and he quietly points it at me.

“You have a funny sense of humor. I enjoy our duels Lucien, but this isn’t the time. With the info we found this is where we should start searching for-” 

I don’t get to finish my sentence. Lucien’s blade cuts through the air and a wave of water rushes across the field, slicing the snow at my feet to reveal the dirt buried underneath. All of a sudden, it became much harder to breathe.

“You’re here to tie up loose ends. To snip every last thread. To kill every last person who was responsible for the deaths of your family and of mine. And I’m the only one here. Put two and two together, you’re better than that.” 

I didn’t need permission to do that. I’d put two and two together long ago. But I wanted to hear it from him. I wanted to look him in the eye and hear him say it and I…

I didn’t like it. I didn’t know what I was supposed to be feeling. A combination of my blood boiling and icing over like…a frozen spring? No - like freezing flame. It was a storm of frost and flame roiling within my veins, racing back to my heart in a struggle to wrest control over my emotions. To scream, or to cry. I felt like doing both. I drew both blades.

“Why.”

It was the only thing I could ask. I swallowed, and it went down hard. I felt my throat tighten, I felt my face flatten into steel. I felt everything except grief leave my body.

“Because your family, my family…we’re all heretics. We are all blights on this land, and the only way we can atone and be welcomed back in Halone’s embrace is if we die in her service. We were all stained. Someone needs to clean it up.”

“That…wasn’t for you to decide. That wasn’t for you to decide! They weren’t perfect but they were good, loving people. They welcomed you, with open arms they took you in. They…you…they loved you. Like a son, a grandson, a brother. I love you. So what if we stray from the Church’s path? The Church was lost! We were all lost! I thought…I thought you of all people would see that.

“Then you were a fool. You all were. There is nothing that I will not do to see that justice is served. To anyone and to everyone. I will…purge our country of the rot that has infested it. One person at a time. By any means necessary.”

I grit my teeth. And I lower my stance. And narrow my eyes, and I…seal my heart. In a wall of flaming frost. Isolated, and alone. Just as it should be.

A deep, unfathomable darkness takes hold of Lucien, an unending void of shadow seeps from his form and envelopes him. A helmet grows from his circlet and obscures his face, and his blade is shrouded in a horrible current of water the color of the abyss. A second sword appears next to his shield, and a second shield appears next to his sword - held by ghostly limbs. 

A voidsent.

He barely gives me time to think about it as he rushes towards me and I to him. Lucien slashes one sword and I parry it away, but just as soon as he does that another comes from the opposite direction. Again I swat it away but one of his shields comes crashing into my stomach and throwing me back. I gasp for breath as the wind is knocked out of me and Lucien rushes me down again. It takes every last bit of strength I have to pull myself together and roll to my left, narrowly avoiding a ravenous pillar of aether land right where my head just was. 

“I’ve never been able to beat you in a fair fight, so I am not leaving any chances. If you don’t get your head into this duel and give me the respect I deserve then I will take your head myself. You will die just like your family did.”

I don’t know how loudly I shrieked, but it must have been loud because my throat was crying out in protest afterward. I channel a blast of lightning from one of my swords right at him, which is eaten by the waters that wreath his own. I take advantage of the moment to dash towards him, covering my approach with another bolt of levin which he absorbs with one of his shields. I aim for his throat and for his ribs from opposing directions, which he blocks with his arsenal. The screeching of metal grinding against metal filling the air. 

As our weapons clash momentarily, I allow my arms to go slack, and he loses his balance for a moment as I dart behind him. I sweep a leg under his and he trips and falls to the ground. With a yell I thrust my katana towards Lucien - only for him to bring his shield to bear and knock my strike away. Continue to hack away at the man on the ground, only for him to block and parry every blow with all four of the limbs he had readied. Our fight is savage and wild, much unlike the grace and care of our dances.

I get sloppy. I get carried away. I put too much in my swing and he rolls to the side, cutting horizontally slicing deep into my side. Blood splashes across the snow, but I feel nothing. Adrenaline perhaps. I don’t know. I don’t think I really felt anything since going into this duel. Anger, grief. But it’s all hollowed out.

Again I run at him. I quicken my pace, I change my tactics. I dip in and out of his reach as he attempts to catch me with water and shadow, slicing the snow at my feet. Sometimes behind me, sometimes in front of me, but he never hits me again as I make little nicks on his legs, his arms, his hands. Slow him down while I speed up, ignoring whatever pain was in my side. I see my blood flow into the spaces where the snow had been displaced. Dark red.

It’s a haze to me. Whenever I fight like this. Like a wild animal, when I let my instincts take hold. It’s all just shapes that I need to get rid of, movement that I need to stop. 

Then I see it, the opening. He charges…something. I can see it, feel it. Aether coalescing between all four of his armaments. So I run. Faster than I’d ever run before. A torrent of shadow and water mix and grow and grow and grow, but I don’t care. With a deep breath, I leap forward with both of my blades outstretched.

There is a sickening sound of flesh tearing, bones breaking. And the crunch of snow as we both fall to the ground.

——————————————————————————————————

CANTO III: My Dearest…Gale.

“Gale. I…I want you to promise me something.”

“That…no matter…what has happened…

“You will stay…with me. Until…the bitter end…”

My Dearest Gale. In another life I would have loved to grow old with you.

My Dearest, Gale. In another life, I would have loved to be forever frustrated by you.

My Dearest…Gale. In this life? I am glad to die beside you.

It was snowing. Why…was it always snowing?

[mrsoharaa]

@auraee I'll explain the dream I woke up from yesterday morning here since it was quite a bit too long for a reply! ₍₍ (̨̡⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)̧̢ ₎₎

this is what happened! ; ( · ❛ ֊ ❛) ₊ ⊹

˗ˏˋ ❥ NSFW UNDER CUT! MDNI! ⚠️❗

sooo pretty much we were at this masquerade ball (he was on a undercover sort of mission) and I was just there (a feeble civilian lol), all dressed up in a long beautiful crimson gown, hair all messily but beautifully curled up into a wavy bun (loose strands falling from it and a bit on the side of my face by my ears), and the moment we locked eyes we knew things would get- tense. He surprisingly asks me for a dance and I, of course, agree, so we dance.

Tension runs higher and thicker between us, due to immense eye contact and lingering, wandering touches on each others bodies. And as the song mellows out- he pulls me close to him, his left hand on my waist as his right holds my own in such a delicate manner, leans forward (due to my short height lool) and hotly whispers into my ear that he needs a moment with me.

So he gently cups my hand, takes a quick look around the vast open space filled of people and murmurs something under his breath (he was communicating with another Spider person most likely).

Guides me away from the ocean room full of blabbering, laughing connoisseur's.

We eventually make it into the furthest peak of a languid hallway, traps me against the nearest wall with his looming body and just stares down at me longingly, almost hungry like.

Makes me a bit nervous- but also, thrilled me at the same time.

Tucks his fingers just beneath the base of my chin and tilts my head upward to meet his intent gaze. Things get more heated, as his lips finally finds mine in such a messy, greedy way.

Large hands roam all over me, lips entangled sloppily with mine as he presses his body firmly against mine. Pins me strictly against the marbled wall with his hefty weight.

Things get hotter and hotter as time goes by, and before I knew it-- this man had me bent over some flimsy, frail table lodged into the nearest dim storage/closet whispering/grunting unspeakable murmurs into my ear while ramming into me ruthlessly, my dress scrunched up above my sore waist, his piercing talons digging, scrapping along my heated, glistening skin as his fangs loom over my tender, plushy flesh.

Tells me that I've been taunting him all night, practically luring him without my knowing. Distracting him from his duties.

But I can't comprehend a single word- not when he was seven inches deep into my sputtering heat. Drool staining my deep maroon lipstick along the side of my puttering lips, eyes rolling to the back of my fuzzy head as my frail, small body shudders almost violently beneath his stocky weight.

His right hand that wrangled into my loose hair, pulling and tugging my head back almost rigorously, his torrid lips meet my pulsing ear once again, breathing and growling ever so heavily- animistic like.

"I knew you were going to be a problem the moment I laid e-eyes on you- fuck"

"You just couldn't stop undressing me with those bright round eyes of yours, could you cariño? you just couldn't look the other way and draw your needy attention away from me, hm?"

"¡Mierda! Te sientes tan bien, nena--!"

"Well, since you can't seem to keep your greedy, beady eyes off of me- you better keep them locked onto mine while I impregnate you"

"I want to see that stupid, beautiful dazed look in your pretty eyes while I fuck a baby deep into you, honey"

"You would like that huh? want my cum so deep in this tight, pretty pussy of yours? to have a strangers baby?"

"Heh, I know you would preciosa-- I can tell by the way your sopping cunt is clinging around me for dear life"

"Going to make you m-mine and mine only mi amor...you're gonna be such a beautiful, radiant mother hermosa" he'd grunt hoarsely deep into my burning, ringing ear, his left hand dragging down to the midst of my belly, pressing down onto my exposed skin, as he empties himself completely deep inside of me.

b-but yeah! that...that was what I woke up too yesterday ROFL OOF😵‍💫😵‍💫🫣

[opheliajupiter99]

Enodi's Nightmare

*While everyone else was tending to Sage, Sprinkles was still curled up, soundly asleep. As they shared a body, Enodi was asleep as well - and while he slept, he dreamed...*

*Sprinkles himself was kind and gentle, but the void itself, void magic that is, was a corrupting force by nature. It twisted, it tormented, it morphed mortal flesh into things unspeakable. Like all magic, it was neither good nor evil, it was purely how it was used, but still, this was its default state*

*As much, while it happened quite rarely at this point, even with Sprinkles taking Enodi's sad memories, the -void- remembered, and sometimes, Enodi would have nightmares much like this one, about that horrid day*

*Enodi's nose filled with the scent of fresh blood, burned flesh, and viscera, as he saw the blood, entrails, skin, hair, -everything- of his friends splattered all over a forest clearing. He saw his orc friend, Ravis, the metal of his armor fused brutally to his flesh after being exposed to intense, cruel heat*

*He saw what little remained of his dwarf friend, Torrin, only fragments of his fiery red beard left to indicate he was ever there in the first place, as he'd been savaged so violently, he was in dozens of pieces all over the clearing, strands of his entrails hung up on the tree branches above*

*And his sister Deona...oh sweet Gods, his sister. She was cut clean in half, her entrails spilling out from her torso as her now useless legs laid out limply nearby. One of her arms was missing, and her face...it was completely mangled, barely recognizable as his sister's face anymore. Her robe, which was made specifically to mirror his own, completely drenched in blood, dying the green red*

"No...NO! FORGET! FORGET! FORGET!" *He shrieked, chanting the word 'forget' over and over and over again, until finally Sprinkles awoke with a start, rumbling. The dream, as it always did, started to fade from memory as soon as they awoke, but for that brief moment, Enodi remembered*

[starsaver94]

Secret Garden Chapter 2

Rose and Makoto stood in the main hall. A multitude of eyes staring back at the two teens as they stood in an awkward silence. That was until…

“Whoa, hey! Two more new kids?” An older looking student with brown hair that stuck out in all directions decided to speak.

“Huh? Then you guys are all…?” Makoto asked, his voice drawing out at the end as he was waiting for someone to confirm his suspicions.

They must be the other Ultimate students.

“Yeah… We’re all new here. Today’s supposed to be our first day of class.” A small girl with a slightly nervous tinge to her voice answered.

“So counting him and her, that makes sixteen. Seems like a good cut-off point, but I wonder if this is everyone…” A large, rotund student with a face that reminded Rose of a hamster spoke next.

There were other students in the room as well who haven’t spoken up yet. They included a large, muscular male with the strangest hair Rose had ever seen, a girl who looked more at home in a maid café rather than a private academy, and another girl who stood away from the rest of the group while not making eye contact with anyone.

“Um… how’s it going? My name’s Makoto Naegi.”

“And I’m Rose Anderson, the… uh… transfer student.”

“Sorry we’re late. A bunch of stuff happened, and then all of a sudden we were both just… asleep. Well, I was asleep and Rose here woke me up.” Makoto stated nervously.

“Whoa, you guys too?” The older student spoke up again, shock etched across his stubbled face.

“Things just keep getting curiouser and curiouser…” The maid girl commented, Rose noticed that her voice was laced in a unique accent.

“So strange… I declare beyond a shadow of a doubt that this is strange indeed!” Hamster boy decided to add to the conversation.

“Um… what are you talking about? We honestly have no idea what’s going on right now.” Makoto stated with a confused expression.

Rose nodded her head, agreeing with Makoto’s statement “Yeah, I mean, we both just woke up in an empty classroom with no idea on how we got there or why it happened.”

“Just a moment! There’s something else we must address!” A male student with piercing red eyes and an almost military style uniform shouted while staring down the two. “Makoto! Rose! Your tardiness are unacceptable! Surely you are both aware that the meeting was to start at 8 a.m. sharp! For both of you to be late on your first day is unspeakable! I must report both of you, and you both must accept your due punishment!"

Rose couldn’t help but stare at the male who was currently scolding both her and Makoto. His uniform combined with his uptight attitude made him seem like a dork and a bit of a jerk, but in a strange way he was also quite handsome.

“What is your problem?” A girl with two large, strawberry-blonde pigtails that were held up by a rabbit hair clip and a bow questioned the red eyed boy “It’s not like they wanted to be late. They didn’t have any control over it.”

That’s right! It’s not like we can control when or where we wake up!

“Everyone just calm down!” A brown-haired girl with a quite *ahem* full chest decided to cut in “Listen, why don’t we all go around and introduce ourselves?”

“The hell?” It was the muscular guy’s turn to interrupt “Now’s not the time for introductions!”

The maid girl decided to speak again, a small giggle escaping her lips “Maybe, but it may be good to at least find out who we all are before digging into the bigger issue here. How are we supposed to talk to each other if we don’t know each other’s names?”

She has a point.

“That’s a good point…” The timid girl stated, fiddling with her fingers nervously.

Hey! That’s what I said! Or… well… thought at least.

“So let’s get intros out of the way, then we can move on to something else. Does that sound good?” A pale, blue-haired girl chirped.

After the blue-haired girl said that, Rose scanned the crowed in an attempt to look for someone to talk to. She noticed that Makoto was talking to the doll-like girl.

Might as well start with Mr. Loudmouth over there.

“Um, h-hello.” Rose nervously almost cautiously walked over to the ruby-eyed male, who seemed to straighten his posture in acknowledgement of Rose’s presence.

“Greetings! I am Kiyotaka Ishimaru, the Ultimate Moral Compass! But you may call me Taka if you would like! Anyways, I look forward to working alongside you as we all do our best at this prestigious academy!”

Oh… So he’s a hall monitor. Well, that explains the uniform… and the attitude.

“Nice to meet you, my name is Rose and I’m the Ultimate Matchmaker.”

“Ah, yes! I remember you! I must say that you have a very nice name! Very fitting of your title! So make sure you put a lot of effort into preserving that name!”

“Um… Ok…”

Taka took a few steps closer to Rose as if to emphasize what he was saying. At this point, he was practically hovering over her. Rose could feel her cheeks get a bit warm from how close he was.

“Life is worth putting every bit of effort into! Right? Right!”

“Um… ah… I g-guess… I uh… Sorry gotta go!” Rose stuttered out before rushing away from Taka.

She quickly came to a stop, bending over in order to catch her breath and to cool her cheeks. She was used to feeling this way as she has had a multitude of crushes in the past. However, she has never caught these types of feelings this fast before.

“Whoa! Are you ok?” A sweet-sounding voice asked, “Do you need to sit down somewhere and take a breather?”

Rose looked up and saw the girl who suggested the idea of introducing the students to each other. Her hair was styled in a strange looking ponytail that reminded Rose of chocolate ice cream.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Rose panted out, which caused the tanned girl to smile.

“That’s good.” A flash of realization goes across her face “Oh! I should probably introduce myself, right?”

She gave a closed eye smile her voice going back to being cheerful “I’m Aoi Asahina, but you can call me Hina. Sup?”

Rose gave Aoi a smile back in response “Nice to meet you Hina. I’m Rose Anderson.”

“Oh yeah! You were with that other kid who came in here right?”

Does she mean Makoto?

Rose soon notices that Aoi was air writing on her hand while muttering to herself, which causes her to raise a brow.

“Um, what are you doing?”

This snaps Aoi out of her trance “Oh! I’m just jotting down your name so that I won’t forget it later. A surefire way to remember someone���s name is to write it on your hand three times.”

I don’t think memory works that way.

*Ding dong, bing bong*

Suddenly, what sounded like a school bell echoed through the main hall and a monitor that was previously turned off flares to life with static and a strange silhouette.

“Testing, testing! Mike check! This is a test of the school’s broadcast system!” An oddly chipper yet twisted voice fills Rose’s and the other student’s ears. It was a voice that, despite how cheerful it sounded, sent a chill down Rose’s spine.

“Can everyone hear me? Ok, well then…!”

Who or what is speaking right now? Better yet, who turned on the monitors?

“To all incoming students! The entrance ceremony will begin… right now! Please make your way to the gym at your earliest convenience.”

Entrance ceremony? Then maybe this is some kind of mascot or even the headmaster?

“That is all. I’ll be waiting!” The voice ended its announcement on a sinister tone that made another chill shoot up Rose’s spine.

I have a bad feeling about this…

Rose didn’t think twice before bolting off with a few other students who were on their way to the gym. She wanted nothing more than to get out of the main hall as fast as humanly possible.

If only she knew what would start as soon as both her and her classmates arrived in that gymnasium…

“He said…”

“Oh Mary, contrary how does your garden grow?”

"Come with me, and you’ll be the seventh maid in a row.”

“My answer was laughter soft as I lowered my head.”

“You’re too late, I’m afraid, this flower’s already…”

[cellophaine]

Lingered Affection (Chapter XIII)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Word Count: 4306

Series Summary: You thought breaking up with Matt was the right thing to do. For his sake and yours. Life went on as you navigated through it with the lingered love and affection you still had for each other, neither of you could let go.

Chapter Warnings: Shitty parents, angst?

Author's Note: Here we are again. I'm late even with my promise to update from probably 2 weeks ago. I'm rusty as hell, and I've taken all this time for a measly 4k chapter. I'm very sorry about that 🥲

I'd love to hear your thoughts, so don't hesitate to reach out! Any likes, comments, reblogs, feedback and ask submissions are greatly appreciated!

P/S: Matt doesn't actually look like this in this chapter. He's just wearing a cap! GIF by @maggiemurdockremade

"They never did, and never will."

The warm breaths in his lungs turned to smoke in the bleak air of late winter. The sharp cuts of wind whisked by, dulled by the coat he adorned. Matt had forgone his armour tonight for a specific reason, and that reason had yet made a move. Hidden in the shadow of the alley, he patiently waited. The blood in his veins still simmered angrily, which was the only thing that kept him warm right now. The deep breaths he took did little to dampen the scorching fire that took hold, spreading red, molten marks across his mind.

Matt could still feel the trembling of your lips on his neck when he coddled you with his arms around you. You nestled in his embrace, your face, dampened with tears, buried in the crook of his neck. He held you close with one hand on your back, the other on the side of your head, woven into your hair, soothing you so you could fall asleep. The ghosts of your sorrow still lingered on his arms, where your fingers had been. You held onto him so tight that it felt like you were afraid he would disappear, as if he was the only person who existed in that moment. The heartbreaking sounds of your gutted sobs and rugged breaths seared his soul, leaving a wound that still ached now when he was out, looking for his target. It tore him from the inside out to leave after seeing you so anguished. You were more than someone he couldn't get over. And perhaps you were right. He loved you too much, so much that his existence was woven tightly around you. A life without you would be a life of pure torment and cruelty. And Matt intended to never let you slip from his grasp ever again. 

So here he was, protecting his future with you by any means necessary. Still, your mother's voice lingered around like an ugly bloodstain that somehow further wrecked something that was already so terribly wrong. 

They were led to the quieter part of the heated patio, away from other patrons. He could hear the intimate exchanges, the off-key notes in the birthday song from a short distance away, and the annoyed huffs of air with a demand for a dry martini from your mother. He listened as the server hurried away, leaving him and your mother in each other's company.

Matt didn't intend to start a conversation with your mother. He had heard enough. The lack of compassion, empathy and love for her own blood spoke for herself. Matt had witnessed many unspeakable things that one person might do to others. Still, to feel it happen to you was a different kind of torture. At that moment, being in the same room as your mother, the silence was a blessing. But curiosity won.

"What is your true purpose here? I think you've made it clear that you're not here to make peace with her."

Clarice huffed; an irritated click of her tongue resounded in Matt's ears.

"She thought she could deny her root, deny her own parents. We're here to remind her that she can't." 

Her dress scruffled lightly on her skin as she made herself comfortable in one of the chairs nearby. Matt didn't bother sitting down, and Clarice, who didn't bother with the fake pleasantries, let him be and rubbed more salt into the wound.

"I didn't raise her to be such a disappointment to me. Turning her back against her own blood. She owes everything she has to me, to her father."

His fist clenched hard on the cane, the rubber pushed against the calloused of his palm.

"You don't own her. She's not an object to possess."

Clarice slammed a fist onto the table, rattling the burning candle and the settings. 

"I gave her this life. So don't tell me that bullshit."

She leaned back, running her hands through her hair in an attempt to calm herself before continuing.

"It's not like she ever listen to senses anyway. She only ever does what she wants. Wasting her time on meaningless, impractical shit she calls art ..."

Her exasperation trailed off as a low and hasty pattern of block heels clicked rapidly on the floor, approaching the two of them. New scents entered the scene, something of a decent aftershave, a strong cut of mixed alcohol and a touch of citrus. That was how Matt felt at this moment. He was on the stage, reliving the tragedy that was your past with all the horror. Yet, the pain was so clearly present that he felt as if it had never left. 

Matt sighed, trying to drive the point home with his hidden gaze directed towards where Clarice was lounging, sipping on her dry martini. It was another normal day to her, as if she didn't see her runaway daughter just minutes ago.

"I can't see her works for myself, but I appreciate her passion and love for what she does. She's actually doing great, making a name for herself. Shouldn't you be proud?"

Matt remembered the way your voice changed when you talked about new discoveries, the way your body seemed to vibrate with excitement when you got to try new paints, the intense focus when you worked, and the joy radiated from you when you finished a piece. The gentle swirls, the light taps, and the soft stipple of your brushes on the canvas with precision meshed together, creating your own rhythm that stuck in his head. A song that was always changing, and so unmistakably yours. 

Your mother scoffed, dismissal weighted heavily in her words.

"Proud? What is there to be proud of? It clearly showed that she's not that much well-off now than when she left home. So please, tell me: how can she pay us back when we want it?"

Something clicked in place for Matt. For a moment, he saw you through your mother's lenses. You were nothing but a mere investment, something to be controlled with force and bruises. At the realization, he was revolted, his jaw clenched, his body ran warm with utter disbelief and anger.

Matt was proud of the person you had become despite what your parents put you through. You came to New York with little to no money. He remembered your cheap plastic palette caked with old paint; the texture was rough with chips of pigment that lingered on his fingers when he touched it. You helped him wash them away with gentle hands and told him how you didn't have the heart to throw the palette out because it had stuck with you for so long. It reminded you of when money was tight, when you couldn't afford basic necessities, much less a better piece of art supply.

Despite your struggles, you never asked of him anything. You even scolded him when he tried to help you with basic stuff. Your independence was admirable, and he loved you all the more for it.

Clarice took Matt's silence as a sign to carry on with her rant. 

"We fed her, clothed her, we gave her a roof over her head. Many, many people don't have that. She owes everything to us, and what did she do? She smeared shit all over this family's name."

His fist clenched tighter onto the cane as if he could crack the handle from the sheer force. Matt cleared his throat but did not succeed in keeping the touch of indignation from spreading in his voice.

"You fulfilled her basic needs. That doesn't exempt you from the abuse you put her through."

Your mother chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. The delicate clinks of her expensive earrings contrasted the unpleasant crackle in her forced laugh.

"Is that what she told you? That we "abused" her? She's always been this dramatic, exaggerating what simply was discipline."

She took a deep breath to compose herself.

"You don't know what real discipline is. I wouldn't expect you to understand, Matthew. From what I know, your father wasn't a very good example. He didn't stay around long enough to at least try to be a good one anyway."

He was taken aback by the malicious intent in her words. His brows furrowed, his lips parted as the unexpected blow descended on him.

"How did you know?"

The calmness in his tone was deadly. But Clarice didn't notice, as she took a sip of her drink before calmly carrying on.

"After we found her through our private eye, we had them looking into her life here. We needed to know what kind of people my daughter associates with. Admittedly, there wasn't much to read about, except for you. And I must say, I'm immensely disappointed."

His patience has reached its limit. And if he didn't get out of there soon enough, he believed the fragrant smell of your mother's perfume would suffocate him to death. Your mother watched Matt through the rim of the glass as he sighed sharply, shaking his head. 

"You know what? I'm glad that you're here."

"Of course you are. Somebody has to knock some senses into her–"

Matt held out the hand that wasn't crushing the cane, effectively cutting her off.

"If it wasn't for you, she'd never leave that hell hole that you called her home. I'd never gotten to meet her, to get to know her. Despite your horrible parenting and abuse, she still turned out to be a good person. A better person than the both of you combined."

Clarice scoffed incredulously, clearly offended by the remark. She didn't bother to keep it civil anymore, letting the bitterness sink its teeth into her voice.

"And on what ground you're judging us on? You see us as greedy, materialistic devils with horns sticking out of our heads, don't you?"

He merely shrugged. Clarice stood up from her spot, stepping closer to Matt. He could smell the redolent note of rose in her perfume more clearly now, even with the scent of vermouth and gin triumphed over it.

"I doubt that the fund your dead father left you or whatever it is that you're living on won't last for much longer if you keep living the way you do now. You're a lawyer who does only pro bono work in a broke independent firm that doesn't earn jack shit. If my daughter had known better, she wouldn't be with the type like you."

Matt's nose wrinkled slightly at the proximity, but he entertained her by not backing away. His voice came out certain and unwavering.

"She loves me for who I am, not for my money or what I can offer her."

Clarice sneered; her pointed finger stabbed his chest, the sharp nail dug into the soft material of his shirt.

"And who are you without it? Money equals privileges, and even God can't help you when you're down on your knees, begging for scraps. I've been there before, and trust me, you don't want that to happen to you."

Matt's hand came up to meet Clarice's, removing her finger from the lapel of his suit with the lack of kindness he often extended to others. Your mother spoke lowly in warning, unfaltering from Matt's crude action.

"If you know what's best for you, you'll stay out of our family business."

Matt huffed, his lips lifted at a corner in a mocking, almost challenging, manner.

"No, I'm fine where I am. Which is next to her and away from you two."

He stormed out of the patio, searching for the door with the help of a waiter nearby. Coming back to the cozy atmosphere inside, Matt heaved hard; his chest felt constricted with every breath he took. But, at the very least, he was out of your mother's suffocating company. His pace quickened, maneuvering between tables towards the scent of you, towards the pattern of your heartbeat. From this distance, he could pick up the trail of your conversation, which wasn't going well considering your father's last words.

"... still very naive. Let this be a reminder that I'm your father. I know you best."

That only fueled his anger, stoking the flame in his chest. He wanted to get you far from there, protecting you from the reaching claws that once sunk into your flesh and mind, feasting on your spirit until you were nothing but an image. A ghost in your own mortal body. It took all of his self-control not to rough your father up right then and there. He understood the risks and how it would only hurt you had he acted on his violent urges. So, he settled for a warning with an idea that quickly took shape in his mind.

The familiar scent of gunpowder, metal, and paper returned, pulling him out of the mist he was in. Matt listened as the footsteps receded, moving towards the main street. He tugged the cap on his head to cover most of his face before moving silently, following the trail your father left behind.

It took him a while to find Arthur. He started with the faint trace of expensive cologne and champagne from the restaurant. It was no easy feat, but eventually, he tracked it down to a fancy brownstone in Chelsea. Your parents' voice echoed between the walls, and Matt caught onto the vague exchange about your father's whereabouts for the next few hours. Arthur going out at this odd hour in the night was not the only thing that alarmed Matt. It was also the men that came to pick him up. They were armed with guns and what could be short blades for closed-up combat, all hidden within the layers of their clothes. Everything about this felt wrong. 

Matt flagged down a cab and asked the driver to follow your father's vehicle. The car they were in was soundproof, making it harder for him to decipher the muddled sound. The route was meticulously planned, weaving between the quiet neighbourhoods and empty streets, staying away from the prying eyes of unwanted audiences. After what felt like a far enough distance from the starting point for the air to change, the car stopped. Your father and his men stepped out before continuing on foot. Matt waited a moment before leaving the cab and following their tracks while taking in his surroundings. The area was a quieter part of the city. Judging by the salt air, piscine smell and musky atmosphere, he suspected he was in Lower East Side, not too far from East River.

Matt kept his head down and the collar of his coat close to his face. Trailing behind them with an unsuspecting distance, he went into an empty alley when the group entered a building. The door opened briefly for Matt to catch onto the gentle vibrations of some machines and water sloshing. He focused on their heartbeats when they gradually faded, and to his confusion, disappeared completely. His wariness grew as he refocused and tried to find your father again, only to fail.

He crept up to it to scout for more details. From this vantage point, he could smell the strong floral scent of fabric softener, detergent and bleach. The sound of fabric rubbing against each other in the machine told Matt what he needed to know: this was a laundromat. He listened more and couldn't hear the heartbeats he had lost track of for an unknown reason. But it also gave him an opening. 

Matt inched closer to the building until he stood before its door. Taking a deep breath, he went in. A person on his left sat on the table with their feet dangling to the beat in their headphones. The volume was so loud it made him concerned for them. Matt faked being drunk, keeping his posture low and unbalanced, and lucky for him, the only person in the laundromat didn't pay him any mind. He searched around with his sense to find an empty room adjacent to this one. He went for it, making his way to the back of the room where the entrance was. His hands searched along the wall for the door, which opened after a great effort to wrench the rusty latch off. 

Immediately, Matt was hit with a potent smell of bleach and disinfectant. It was so overwhelming that he had to stop to regulate his breathing for a few seconds. After his senses adjusted to the odour, Matt desperately tried to root out the distinctive scent of Arthur, the tang of gunpowder, anything that could give away where they had gone. Yet, he came up empty. It was almost as if they had disappeared into thin air before him, much to his bewilderment. All he could hear was a loud cough in the laundry room and the gentle lulls of the washing machine. Nothing was out of sort. It was a regular night, just like any other. 

In the days after that night with your parents, you fell hard into a cycle of reliving the old memories and pain that came alive. You let them go haywire and dealt with them piece by piece until your head couldn't take it anymore. The little progress you made was towards the reluctant and yet, clear acceptance that your parents didn't love you. The part in you that was still in denial of the fact resisted, deflecting and blaming that you didn't deserve love at all. You simply were not worth it in their eyes. And it crushed you. Even though it was only a result of your mind's manifestation, it still hurt. It was like a stray thread that you kept pulling. Pulling and pulling until there was nothing left but those bitter thoughts of how you could change and be better to fit into your parents' ideal. If you had cut your dreams short instead of nurturing them. If you had accepted everything they gave you instead of running away. After all, you weren't the only one with parent issues.

You were torn between what you knew was right and what you thought you deserved. The notions fought in your head, and they never quieted down. You couldn't shut them out. You drew into yourself, feeling vulnerable with your thoughts exposed and bare for your own judgement. 

Always ungrateful. 

They didn't have the right to do that to you. 

Always inadequate. 

Sleep didn't come easy. Your eyes couldn't stay shut through the night. As soon as Matt was gone on his duty, you found yourself wide awake. The morning came, and you stayed up with the sun, forcing yourself to be useful by working from home. Matt's presence always lingered at your side, sometimes from a distance away. He watched over you in his own way, taking care of you the way he knew how. He ensured you ate enough, much to your resistance and even lack thereof. And he was there to chase away your thoughts when they became too much. Matt did it wordlessly, for he knew almost nothing could coax you out once you were in deep. He did it with kisses on your forehead and temples. More tender pecks fell on your shoulders when he held you close; soft rocks back and forth and smoothing hands on your back brought you to sleep easier. He doted on you, knowing how much you needed it. 

Still, you couldn't help but feel a nagging sense of being a burden again, just like those weeks that led up to your breakup. It was only a few months prior, yet, so much had changed. 

One thing stayed the same: you closed yourself up and spared Matt no detail of that night. You shut him out of your overbearing thoughts. Your self-pity felt so insignificant that you hoped it would go away on its own. Guilt overflowed, for you knew he waited for you to be ready to talk. And Matt, being the ever-so-patient man he was, let you be. He didn't push for what was said, silently and earnestly providing you comfort and relief.

Your grief for something you never had gradually turned into anger. You slowly came to terms with reality and picked yourself up with a renewed sense of purpose. You were driven by resentment and the disgust you had for your parents. For once, you wanted the upper hand. You thought about the project he told you, the very reason that brought him to New York, and decided two could play this game. 

You got out of Matt's apartment after days of making a dent in his home. You went out more often and seemed more energized when you returned late at night. Matt took that as a positive sign, and you knew he wouldn't approve if he knew it was for all the wrong reasons. But fuck that. You wanted to pursue this new purpose rather than wait for your father's move. And when that purpose was given the green light in the notification of a coming text, it was just in time for the fundraiser. 

Your reflection in the mirror looked much better than how you felt. With the well-fitted knee-length gown and some colour to your cheeks, you cleaned up nicely even with the absence of decent nights of sleep. Still, you could see the bags under your eyes, the lack of energy, a hollowed-out shell of a person that was only half there. The suppressed wrath danced in your blood, along with the anxiety of what might unfold tonight. You needed everything to go smoothly. As smoothly as you could manage without Matt knowing.

Speaking of the devil, Matt called for your attention through the device on top of your dresser. You let it ring once, twice, before answering. Your nickname in his voice on the other end poured into your ears, soothing with a touch of uncertainty.

"I thought I would see you at my place by now. Where are you? Is work holding you up again–?"

"– no, it's not work. I'm… I'm at my place. I'm just not … feeling well right now."

You inwardly chastised yourself. Lying to him, again. But it was only this time, right? It was only a harmless little white lie with no repercussion. You had to ensure that he couldn't find out. A brief silence passed, and when you thought he had caught your lie, his tone came through with a finality.

"I'm coming over."

"No!"

Realizing the harshness in your verbal reflex, you eased back.

"I mean– it's okay. I'm okay. It's nothing. You don't have to come over."

The words rushed out of you. It was almost as if returning to the warmth of Matt's arms had chipped away your ability to lie to him. There was a pause on his side as if Matt tried to see you through. 

"Sweetheart, is everything alright?"

His gentle and urging tone made you mentally kick yourself. He was probably worried about you, and here you were, shielding yourself from him again.

"Yes, everything is fine. I'm fine."

Another moment of hesitation, and you felt like your heart couldn't beat any louder.

"Are you sure? You seem–"

"I said I'm fine."

You cut him off sharply, your tone cold and distant. You hated how you put yourself into this position. Lies, lies and more lies. 

"No, you're not. Don't lie to me."

Matt was right, but his gentle demand triggered your defence mechanism.

"Why do you think I'm lying to you?"

"The way you're acting right now makes me think like that."

You couldn't help the way your pride rose to meet with the accusing tone on the other end. Your voice quivered slightly at the edge, but it came out steady, offended with sarcasm dripped off the words.

"Oh? The way I act? And what is that?"

"All defensive and secretive, like you're hiding something."

Fuck. Matt being right only pushed at your stubbornness in the worst way. A taunting satisfaction dangled before you, and in the heat of the moment, you gladly took the bait.

"Maybe I have nothing to hide. Maybe, I just want some space away from you."

As soon as the words left your mouth, regret washed over your tongue with a bitter taste of punishment. Matt didn't deserve this. You bit your lips hard, unable to bring yourself to say anything else. Silence spurred on. All you could hear was your spiralling heartbeat. 

You sighed, softening your voice.

"Look, I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Nothing came from his end. Moments passed, and you didn't have the heart to bear it anymore. You hung up, exhaling loudly as if a hefty weight was lifted off your shoulders. You took another look at yourself in the mirror. Still tired and hollow, but now, a touch of guilt reached your eyes, seemingly dragging your posture down. You physically shrugged it off, standing up straight. For what you were about to do tonight, you couldn't let your nerves go astray. There wasn't time for this. The amends would have to wait until you got back.

You walked down the stairs, stepping into the busy pavement full of pedestrians going about their nights. You didn't have to wait for long until a black car with its windows tinted pulled up. You watched with careful eyes as the driver got out of the vehicle, nodding in acknowledgment. He pulled the door open, stepping aside for you to get in. An uneasiness rose in your stomach, but you tamped it down and settled into the leather cushion. The car pulled away towards your destination, with you unaware of the shadow that was only steps behind. 

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[teddy06writes]

Can I request a Sapnap x Karl x Quakity x Y/N ? I just like polyam ships and your Sapnap x Karl x Y/n just made me want more

Ee hee, thanks for the request

Sapnap x karl x reader x quackity (THE PEOPLE ARE ENABLING MEEEE)

trigger warnings: swearing, panic attack

premise: you and your boyfriends are out shopping/ trying to get kicked out of a target when you run into your asshole ex, when he starts to bother you your boys take care of it

(y/n/n)- your nick name

(also we’re pretending covid isn’t a thing)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“(y/n)! We are gods!”  

You turned at Alex’s call, snorting upon seeing he and Karl T posing while standing in the target cart, Nick balanced on the front, also t posing.

You laughed at your boyfriends, quickly taking a picture before Karl started to wobble and fall, “You guys are ridiculous.”

“Yup!” Karl grinned as Alex helped him out of the cart to avoid falling.

You shook your head, quietly putting the picture onto your twitter with the caption, ‘look at these nerds <3′

“You guys are gonna die from idiocy some day.”

“Not when your there to save us.” Nick countered, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“If anything they’ll get dragged down with us.” Alex scoffed.

“Tragically,” You muttered, “Did we actually come here to do anything but solicit?”

Karl giggled, “Well I thought we were just terrorizing the people of Target.”

“The only thing we actually needed was more notecards.” Nick reminded helpfully.

You smiled, “At least one of you is useful.”

“Hey!” Alex protested, “We’re useful too!”

“Sometimes.”  Karl giggled again.

“Betrayal!” He gasped dramatically as Karl threw his arms around his shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, “Well, if your useful too then, help me find notecards.”

Alex sighed dramatically, grabbing one your your hands and intertwining your fingers, “If we must.”

Karl grinned, hopping back to sit in the cart, “Lets go then!”

Nick rolled his eyes, muttering something about being ridiculous, before moving to the push the cart, you and Alex moving along beside them.

~~

A half hour later found many random unnecessary but still necessary items piled into the cart around Karl, and note cards had still not been found.

You were hallway through the seasonal section when you sighed, “Alright this is taking too long, I’m going to actually get the note cards, I think they’re just down there, try not to break anything.”

Karl chuckled, “No promises.”

You smiled and headed out of the isle, towards office supplies.

“Well, well, well, (y/n), fancy seeing you here.”

You froze in the middle of grabbing the biggest package of notecards, trying to keep your hand still as you turned, “John,,, uh hi?”

Now, John wasn’t the worst person, no your relationship wasn’t necessarily bad, but towards the end it definitely took a turn for the worse. When you’d first brought up breaking things off he was, less than thrilled, leaving the last few weeks of your relationship a battle field of screaming matches that consisted of little more than his yells.

“It’s been a while.” He smiled.

“Uhh, yeah, it has been.” You began to fidget with your fingers, eyes darting back up the isle towards where you’d left Nick, Alex and Karl.

“Let me guess, still single?” He laughed, “Yeah it would make sense, I’ve only pulled like one person since you.”

You glanced down, “Uhh, no actually.”

John frowned, letting acid drip into his voice, “Oh, I guess the were right when they said you always moved on fast.”

“It- it- it- it’s been a year and a half?” Your attempts to keep your voce steady began to fail, “And, I’ve only been dating one of them for a few months.”

-It was true, Alex had been the last one to join your relationship a few months ago-

His eyes narrowed, “You’re not telling me you’re still on the stupid polyamory thing are you?”

You cleared your throat uncertainly, “um, y- yeah, I have three boyfriends.”

He rolled his eyes, “There's no chance you’d ever fucking pull three people. Hell you barley even managed me.”

Your gaze stayed trained on the tile floor, unspeaking.

“It’s clear you haven’t moved past fucking your way into a relationship.”

You bit your lip, tears welling in your eyes as your breathing quickened, deep down you knew it wasn’t true, as a group you all respected Karl’s asexuality, even once, over some late night conversation of cuddles and lazily traded kisses, going so far as to promise that the relationship would remain entirely romantic if it made him more comfortable, and it had.

Still, there was a nagging in the back of your head, telling you that John was right. There obviously was only one reason they kept  you around.

“That really is a shame,” You felt his hand rest on your shoulder, “I know I would stay with you for more than that.”

“Get your fucking hand off of them or I will rip your arm off and beat you to death with it!”

You were simultaneously relieved and flooded with more anxiety upon hearing Nick’s voice.

“Who are you?” John asked skeptically.

“Their boyfriends, who the fuck are you?” Alex spit.

He laughed, dry and harsh, “So you’re the fucking idols who thought you could get away with dating (y/n), not that I care their very-”

“No, you shut the fuck up!” Nick cut him off before he could say anything else advancing up the isle towards him, “Why the fuck are you bothering them?!”

They continued a back and forth exchange, as you slowly slid down to the floor, nails pressing tightly into your palms, breathing far too fast.

“Hey, hey, (y/n/n), (y/n/n) look at me.”

You opened eyes that you didn’t realize had been screwed shut to see Karl kneeling sitting In front of you, looking worried.

“Can I touch you or no darlin?” He asked softly, almost making you forget the yelling happening only a few feet away.

You bit your lip, quickly shaking your head, the tiny seed of doubt John had planted in your mind starting to grow.

“Okay, that’s fine. Can you breath with me? In for seven, hold for 4 out for 8, yeah?”

After a moment of trying to breath in sync with him, you held out a hand, and understanding Karl took it, moving to pull you into his arms, “In for 7, out for 8, just like me alright?”

You all but melted into his touch, doing your best to breath normally again.

“Get the fuck outta here man!” Alex yelled.

“You’re gonna regret this.” John sneered.

“No,” Nick said firmly, “Your gonna regret messing with our partner if you don’t fucking leave.”

After you heard footsteps hurrying away you felt Alex settle on your other side, “You alright baby?”

“Their starting to breath normally again.” Karl reported, running a hand through your hair.

Nick sat down on Karl’s other side, and you all stayed sat on the floor of the offices supply isle, Alex sending death glares to anyone who tried to ask you to move.

Eventually you sat up, sniffing.

“Who was that?” Nick asked softly.

“My ex.” You murmured.

“Why was he bothering you? What did he say?”

“Stupid stuff,” You muttered, rubbing at your eyes, “C’n we go home now?”

“Of course Darlin.” Karl assured, standing up and turning to help you up.

~~

Later, back at the apartment, after everything had been put away, you all ended up in a cuddle plie on the couch, and that seed of doubt was beginning to shrivel with every pass Nick’s hands made through your hair, every small circle Alex absently traced into your palm and every tiny joke Karl made about the movie playing.

“Guys?” You asked softly.

“Yeah?” Alex asked.

“I love you.”

Karl grinned, “We love you too.”

Alex pressed a kiss to your knuckles in understanding and Nick  hummed in response.

The tiny seed of doubt was gone.

[deceitfuldevil]

Snap Out of It!

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: You grew up with the Maximoff twins, even agreed to be experimented on at HYDRA with them. You and Pietro were clearly falling for each other the older you got, but HYDRA sent you away and told the Maximoff’s you were dead. So what happens when you show up at the Avengers compound with no memory of your past?

Warnings: a little bit of angst I think?? Mentions of bombs, HYDRA experiments, some fluff and kissing ;)

Word Count: 3.69K

You were born during the start of a terrible war in your home country, and about two months later your parents introduced you to a new set of twins who lived just a few doors down from you. Of course you don’t actually remember meeting them, but your earliest memories were all filled with the Maximoff twins. You practically grew up right alongside them, you three did everything together. Birthdays, playdates, dinner when your parents weren’t home, all of it. It was also nice to grow up alongside others who were your age, especially when your country was at such a low place; it was a good distraction.

You were 10 years old when your apartment complex was bombed, your father had just walked in the door coming home from work. He and your mom fell into the hole in the floor immediately, that was the last time you ever saw them. You sat curled up in a ball in the far left corner of what used to be your kitchen. Frozen with fear and trauma for two days, until you were rescued. You were brought down to a large police van, the doors were opened for you and you saw two other children huddled together under a blanket, both of them immediately turned to see you and screamed with joy. It was your best friends, the Maximoffs. You ran into the van and hugged them immediately, all of you breaking down into tears. You sat in the back of the van together and chatted about the bombing. The main question on your mind was “are there any survivors?” but as it turned out, not only were you and the Maximoff twins the only children that survived. You three ended up being the three lone survivors of the entire apartment complex. Newspapers printed out articles on “the miracle trio” for weeks to come.

From that day on you three jumped from homeless shelter to homeless shelter, never once being allowed to stay in once place for too long. You even agreed to volunteer for HYDRA’s experiments with Wanda and Pietro when you were all 17. You tried to stay in communication with your friends but HYDRA made that near impossible with their constant experiments and isolations. The time you did get to spend with the Maximoffs was cherished, especially your time with Pietro. You two were definitely drawn to each other as you grew into your mid teens, but you never truly allowed anything serious to happen in fear of how Wanda might react.

About a year into your experiments at HYDRA, you gained healing like abilities along with some telepathy as well. After learning and controlling these powers you were excited for when you got to see Wanda and Pietro next to see what powers they had gained. But you never got the chance. HYDRA saw more use in you than petty armed fights, and shipped you off to god knows where and gave you the improved and experimental “super-soldier” serum. HYDRA informed Wanda and Pietro that the experiments became too much for you, that you were weak and had passed on. Pietro cried for days on end, and Wanda could hear him every night from her neighboring cell. Thinking you were dead killed his spirit, his soul. He never even got to tell you how he really felt. That you were so much more than just a fling to him. Meanwhile you trained for months on end and every week and were forced to have shock therapy to erase your past memories. HYDRA was making you into nothing more than a weapon, a shell of a person. After a few successful missions, that's all you were good for. So if you weren’t out on business, you were put under cryo-sleep. This went on for years.

It wasn't until 3 weeks after the battle of Sokovia when Sam had been questioning Wanda and Pietro about their time with HYDRA, he was able to locate another one of their secret human experiment facilities. Steve was hoping they’d make a break in that missing persons case of his but to no avail. However, they did find one abandoned soldier in cryo-freeze. You.

Now, of course it took months of isolation and small bits of normal human activity and interaction to erase what HYDRA had brainwashed you into. After about 4 1/2 months Tony decided it was time to move you into the new compound, but kept you restricted to your room. Others were allowed to visit you if they’d like, it was encouraged really. Get you the human interaction you needed.

Three days and no visits later, which you didn’t mind. It was nice being isolated somewhere with TV service.

Clint walked over to the kitchen island where Wanda and Pietro were having a conversation over a snack.

“Either of you meet the newest recruit yet? I hear she’s still in isolation.”

“There’s a... new recruit?” Pietro said, his accent thick as he spoke with a questioning tone.

“Yeah, Y/N something. Found her in cryo-freeze at that HYDRA base we raided a few months ago.”

Wanda froze, immediately looking to her brother who looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Pietro... it can’t be her. You remember how she died in trials” Wanda tried to reason with her still love stricken brother after all these years.

“That’s what they told us, what if they lied? It wouldn’t be the first time.”

She just shook her head “it’s impossible, do you even think she’d still remember you?” Wanda inquired.

“There’s only one way to find out!” Pietro said, speeding off leaving a trail of blue streaks behind him.

He busted through the lab doors and stood about 5 feet from Tony, breathless. “What’s her name? Her full name.”

“Okay speedy, next time knock, yeah? And half of our team here is “her’s” so I haven’t the slightest clue who you’re talking about.” Tony spoke calmly, but frustrated that Pietro bursted in out of nowhere.

“The new recruit, Y/N.”

Tony looked over to the quick man and quirked a brow at him

“Well you’ve already got half her name down. She’s Y/N L/N, an ex HYDRA super soldier. You should go visit her actually, she just moved into the compound a few days ago. No ones even visited her y—“

“Where is she staying? what room is she in?” He asked, cutting Tony off.

“Floor 2, room 315... you know it’s impolite to cut off your—“ but before Tony could finish, Pietro had sped off again.

You sat into your room watching an old sitcom from the 2000s you felt drawn to. But before you could invest yourself any further there was a knock at your door. Something you weren’t used to. You hesitantly spoke, “come in” you said sitting up in your bed, fixing your hair a little in the process.

A silver haired man slowly walked in, he had broad shoulders and a toned body. He was attractive, no doubt. But he almost looked familiar to you. Why?

“Hello dragâ” he spoke with a Eastern Europe accent, but one not one you could exactly pinpoint. But you recognized the foreign word he spoke

“Hello... domnule. How do you know Russian... and why have you come to visit?” You questioned, swinging your legs over the side of your bed. The man at your door, he looked sad now. His face fell, but you didn’t understand why.

“You don’t remember me?” He walked closer to you, as you stood up from your bed.

“Well I don’t remember much after HYDRA brainwashed the hell out of me” you said with a slight chuckle, but he still looked disappointed.

“But maybe if you tell me your name and why I should remember you” you said with a smirk, stepping closer to the handsome man that stood in front of you.

“Can I show you instead?” He said, stepping so close that now your chests were touching. You enjoyed the human interaction but with your past training, this still left you on edge.

“Show me?” You questioned, but he took this rather as the go-ahead and snaked a hand around your waist and leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You wanted to melt into his touch but it was all too soon, and you didn’t even know his name. You pulled away abruptly and slapped him. Backing away as you sat back down on your bed and stared at your hands.

“Please leave.” You said just as quietly as you said when you allowed him to come in. When you looked up, the mysterious man was gone; your door left a crack open.

No one visited you for five more days after that. It was early into the evening and you sat alone in your room reading a book. There was a knock at your door but you didn’t answer it. The last time you agreed to let someone in they violated your boundaries. But regardless your door was still opened, but a new person you had yet to meet walked through.

She stood a bit taller than you and had long red hair, a kind smile and warm eyes.

“I hope I am not intruding.” She said, with the same accent as the man who invaded on your days before. Which again, put you on edge.

“Who are you?” You said, keeping your eyes on your book— desperately avoiding eye contact.

“Wanda Maximoff, but you can just call me Wanda.” She said sweetly

“Oh how sweet of you” you said dryly, still bitter over your last encounter with someone in the avengers compound.

“All you remember is pain” she said in an as-a-matter-of-fact kind of way. “But that’s not all you know, you just need to remember.” You now dared to look up at her. She was still at the door, keeping her distance from you.

“And how am I supposed to remember what you think I know?” You asked, and she took a step closer to your bed.

“I don’t think, I see. I can see inside your head, they did unspeakable things to you. Made you carry out violent missions that still haunt your dreams. You’ve forgotten what you know, your life before them...” Wanda paused, your eyes welled up gently with tears but you refused to let them fall. But she noticed.

“I think I can help you, if you’d let me” she took another step towards you, waiting for your reaction. But you stayed silent, fighting with yourself internally.

“We used to be friends, you know. You, my brother and I. He came to visit you a few days ago, and he knows what he did was wrong. He just missed you terribly. We have similar pasts. I want to help you, but if you don’t want my help. That is okay too. Regardless of what you choose, I still want to be your friend.”

You took a deep breath and stood up out of your bed. “How will you do it?” You asked, wanting nothing more than to feel normal again.

“A little bit of my magic, a little bit of love, and a lot of stories.” She smiled sweetly, taking your hand in hers. “I’ll be right back, okay?” You nodded quickly as Wanda left your room. You sat back down on your bed and racked your head wondering what you were about to learn about yourself. Wanda came back in with a fairly large box labeled “amintiri” which you knew meant “memories” in Romanian.

“Is everyone here Russian like me?” You questioned, giving Wanda a laugh “no, just my brother and I. Coincidentally, the only two who have visited you since you moved here.” You frowned slightly at her comment

“Why has no one else come to visit me?”

Wanda sighed “no one else knows you like my brother and I do. All they know is what you have done in your past, and that scares them.” She took the lid off the box she brought in and picked up a stack of photos that were tied together with a rubber band.

“But lucky for you, Pietro and I know more.” She said with a smile

“Pietro?” You said, quirking your head to the side a bit.

“He is my twin brother, the one who visited you last week. You two have... a history of sorts together. But we’ll get into that later.”

So with that, for some reason, you felt that everything was going to be okay.

And okay it was. Wanda showed you hundreds of pictures everyday and told the story behind every picture she pulled. Although you didn’t remember any of the memories she retold, it was still nice to hear what your life was like before HYDRA.

A week and a half later, she used her powers on you. At the time you remembered nothing, but later that night when she was showing you more pictures you pulled one picture out of the  box. It was three little kids, all surrounding a brown chest that seemed to be filled with various sitcoms on VHS tape.

“This was on your 9th birthday, your father had bought a chest full of old American sitcoms. Not only did you love comedy but our family saw it as a great way to practice your English. Your favorite was The Dick Van Dyke Show.” You immediately recalled with great memory as you picked up the picture. Wanda jumped with joy and hugged you.

“You remembered!!” You nodded happily and hugged her back. “I remembered...” you said back quietly, almost in shock of yourself.

From then on memories came back to you not only easier but also a lot quicker. Soon enough, you remembered everything HYDRA had tried to erase out of your head. Even your feelings for Pietro. But you kept those memories to yourself, afraid that he would hate you after your first encounter with him when you came to the compound.

The last step Wanda had for you in what she called “Becoming You Again Project” was to have dinner with the rest of the compound, and finally be properly introduced to them.

So a dinner you all had. It was casual, but still felt formal as everyone greeted you so politely. Of course Wanda kept them all updated on your status. Even though they hadn’t met you yet, with her seal of approval they all trusted you now.

The last person to greet you was a face you could never forget now. Pietro Maximoff.

“Y/n... I know you’ve met a thousand times before, but I’d like you to meet my brother, Pietro.” Wanda said, elbowing her brother to stop staring at you and shake your hand. You felt weak at the knees under his gaze, was this how he’s always made you feel?

Pietro bowed down before you like you were some kind of princess and kissed your hand sweetly.

“Hello again, dragoste mia“ you felt hot under his touch and knew you were turning a beet red. You nodded quickly and smiled at him. He looked up and winked at you, walking to his seat. Which almost dreadfully, was directly across from yours.

After that you all sat down for dinner, Pepper had made a nice pasta dish for everyone. You ate quietly as everyone went around and told you stories of all kinds. Of past missions together, of personal life stories, and so much more. Truly it was a very enjoyable time. You loved getting to know everyone more than the files you were left in your room to “get to know the avenger” as Tony called it.

The night was almost perfect, if you hadn’t felt the gaze of a very familiar Sokovian man on you all night. He never even spoke, not that he had many stories to tell that you weren’t there for. The more stories that were told, the more you tuned them out and fell victim to his gaze.

But when the room fell quiet and you realized everyone's eyes were on you, you snapped out of whatever trance Pietro held you captive in and laughed nervously.

“I’m sorry, what did I miss? My mind was... somewhere else.” A few others laughed awkwardly, it was no doubt that everyone else noticed the constant looks you and Pietro were sharing. Tony stood up abruptly taking it upon himself to avoid the awkward silence.

“It was nothing important, Y/n. Anyways I believe this dinner was long overdue and very welcomed. We will be seeing you at training tomorrow?” Tony asked, starting to clear up his place.

“She can start on Monday, Tony. Let the kid have the weekend before she officially becomes an avenger, yeah?” Steve said, also standing up. Tony looked back at you and said “Captain's orders kid, see you Monday.” He said walking off, plate in hand. The others followed suit as you said your thank you’s for the warm welcome and goodnights to everyone.

Even if you didn’t make the dinner, you insisted on cleaning up. It was a nice way for you to feel helpful and to debrief after the dinner. Wanda left you alone and you cleaned the dishes happily while F.R.I.D.A.Y played some tunes for you.

“Mind if I lend you a hand, printsessa?” You heard a thick accent call out. You turned around to see none other than Pietro standing at the kitchen island with a smirk on his face.

“You’re not afraid of me?” You asked in a playful tone, although you weren’t entirely joking.

“Hardly, you could choke the life out of me and I’d say thank you.” He said, cheekiness radiating in his voice.  You only laughed at his comment shaking your head.

“But just so you know, I used to do the choking in this relationship.” He said, daring to step closer to you. Your legs felt like jelly but you challenged him.

“Oh did you now? It’s a shame I don’t remember that.” You said teasingly

“But you remember other things? You remember me? Us? What we were?” His tone remained challenging, but his words were serious. You flirty front dropped at this, a small fear that he didn’t feel the same now coming back to eat you alive. You didn’t answer, rather turning back around to finish off the last of the dishes.

“You do remember me, and the times we shared together... no?” He said, carefully coming beside you.

“How could I forget? Of all the memories I was able to recall, those were the best” you said half-heartedly... not meaning to sound so bitter.

“But surely you’ve moved on...” you said quietly, staring at the dish you scrubbed aggressively in your hand.

“Oh dragâ mea” he said, taking a risk and placing one of his hands at the side of your face, gently forcing you to look at him.

“I never believed them when they told us you had failed your trials and passed on. I knew you were stronger than that, and the memories of what we had, kept me strong enough to escape from those bastards. I always had hope that you were still out there.”  

You smiled brightly and tears brimmed your eyes, only this time you weren’t afraid to let them fall.

“I never stopped loving you, Y/n. Even when I thought you were dead.” And there went your tears, falling down your face as you turned to fully face Pietro as you wrapped your soapy hands around his neck.

“I love you too Pietro, the memories I have with you are the best ones I’ve remembered since I came back.”

He laughed lightly and brought his forehead to yours “so glad to hear you finally snapped out it, my love.”

“How could I have been so blind? I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you when you first visited me.” You admitted shyly

“It’s okay, I waited so patiently for years. A few more weeks wasn’t going to kill me” you laughed as your noses touched. His breath was fanning over your face and you didn’t dare break your eyes away from his.

“If you can promise not to slap me... we could always try that kiss again?” He said slyly, but you only sighed happily.

“I promise.” And that was all he needed. Pietro closed the small space between the two of you and pressed his soft lips to yours. The moment was nothing but pure bliss as you inhaled his sweet scent.

You pulled away somewhat reluctantly and smiled up at the man in front of you.

“Does that mean we’re together again?” He asked kindly

“Oh yeah, and good luck getting rid of me this time speedy.” You joked, tangling your fingers in the ends of his hair at the back of his neck.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, dragosté” he said, leaning down and bringing you in for a much more passionate kiss.

—

A/N

Ahhh hi everyone!! I truly haven't gotten this many imagines out in years and it feels so good. I turned on “The Greatest Showman” and five minutes later was struck with inspiration and somehow came up with this, which is actually kind of based off the song “Snap Out of It” by the Arctic Monkeys. I’ve been so obsessed with Pietro Maximoff/Arron Taylor Johnson lately, honestly it's ridiculous. Anyways I really hope you all enjoyed this imagine and remember, feedback is always welcomed and requests are encouraged!

Much Love,

—Skyler

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Veritaserum Prompt Part 2

(Alrighty, friends! Here's part two of the Veritaserum prompt ficlet! I hope you enjoy.)

Harry had no idea what he was doing.

And to be fair, this was not an uncommon occurrence in his life. After everything that he'd done, everything that he'd been through, you'd think that he would be used to flying by the seat of his pants by now.

But this, Harry thought to himself as he stared at Draco Malfoy devouring a salad with chicken and fresh strawberries across from him at the island in the kitchen, was really not the plan.

The plan had been to find out where they were keeping Malfoy. The plan had been to find out how he was being treated and document it. The plan had been to put together a report demanding his release, demanding that Draco Malfoy be pardoned.

One look at him in that blasted cage and Harry's resolve to go through the correct channels was obliterated.

Hermione was going to kill him.

"I'm having trouble believing this is real," Malfoy confessed and frankly, Harry could sympathize. "I'm not sure if the way you're staring at me like you can't believe this is real either is helping or making it worse."

"This was not the plan," Harry finally said.

"Sorry?"

"I think I've made things worse," Harry confessed.

(Read more below the cut)

"Trust me, Potter, this is definitely not worse."

Harry winced, "In the short term, I agree with you," he said. "I agree completely. In the long term," he rubbed his hands over his face, "There was a plan. With lawyers and trials, with an actual fair trial, with you being tried as a minor because you were. A plan with a demand for your pardon and release."

"It wouldn't have made a difference," Malfoy said, glancing longingly at the salad bowl.

"Please have more if you're hungry," Harry said, nudging the bowl toward him and wasn't this all a bit surreal. "What do you mean it wouldn't have made a difference?"

Malfoy huffed as he scooped more salad onto his plate. "They never would have let me go."

"But Hermione says-"

"Yes," he interrupted, "Granger is brilliant, the brightest witch of our generation, but she also is on the side that won. You lot can have hope because what you wanted happened."

"So what you wanted didn't?"

Malfoy shook his head, "I mean obviously I wanted you to defeat Voldemort. What kind of idiot would I have to be to want him to stay in power? Even the people who followed him were miserable. But I was never under any delusions that my life would turn out fine."

"But we won," Harry said, "You shouldn't be punished unjustly."

"What do you think a just punishment would be?" Malfoy asked, popping a strawberry into his mouth.

"Community service," Harry replied readily, he'd thought this through already. "Maybe a few years of probation with wand monitoring."

"People died because of me, Potter," Malfoy said incredulously.

"You didn't kill them," he said.

"Semantics," Malfoy said, waving his hand.

"You didn't want anyone to get hurt. Dumbledore said-"

"Dumbledore was a fool!" he exploded. "Of course I didn't want to hurt anyone! Of course I didn't want to get the bloody dark mark! But I had to or he would have killed me and my mother. And I know you think the right choice would have been to sacrifice myself, to sacrifice my mother-"

"I didn't say that!" Harry protested.

Malfoy shook his head, "You don't have to because you lived it. You literally died, Potter."

"I mean, fine," Harry conceded. "If you're asking me to die myself, fine. It's literally what I was raised to do, it's literally the point of me. But if you'd asked me to sacrifice a single person I love," he shook his head. "I don't know what I would have done to save myself the pain of loss, to save my friends and family from the pain of that loss."

The other man stared at him for a long moment, "There is so much to unpack in that statement that I honestly don't know where to start." He shook his head, "Look, I'm grateful. Really. I didn't think I'd ever see the sun again, or taste fresh fruit, or drink clean water-"

Something clenched in Harry's stomach, "It's not fair."

Malfoy laughed, it wasn't mean or judgmental, but it was sad, "Potter, when has life ever been fair to you?"

Harry was a bit taken aback by that statement.

Before he could find the words to reply, "I'm just trying to say thank you for bringing me here. And to say I'll understand when you tell me I have to go back."

"It's not happening," Harry said fiercely.

"You've made yourself a criminal, Potter. You can't go back until you give me back to them."

"We'll clear your name," he said stubbornly.

Malfoy gave him a pitying glance, then seemingly decided to give it up. "Can I go outside?" he asked.

"Yeah," Harry said, "Of course. There's a ward set up around the property, but it's about half a mile in any direction. It won't let anyone in or out," he added.

"I won't go far," Malfoy promised.

"Oh, one more thing," Harry said, "One second." He ran back to his bedroom and fetched Malfoy's wand. "Here," he said, thrusting it out to the other man.

Malfoy stared at him, "You're giving me my wand?" he asked as though Harry was doing something inconceivable.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Yeah, of course I am."

"I could kill you in your sleep."

Harry cocked his head at him, "But why would you?"

"You're not very good at having enemies," Malfoy responded.

"You're not very good at being my enemy," Harry replied. "And honestly? I'm tired of having enemies, so if you want to off me just," he shrugged, "Do it."

Malfoy cautiously reached out and accepted his wand, tension draining from his shoulders the moment he touched it, "Circe, that feels good," he murmured. "I won't," he added, looking up at Harry then. "I won't hurt you."

"I know," Harry replied as he stepped back and headed over to start cleaning up the table.

"You're stranger than I remember."

Harry snorted, "Having an extra soul removed from your body will do that to you."

Malfoy was quiet for a long moment, probably trying to process that weird little tidbit that Harry didn't even always understand. "Do you want help cleaning up?" he finally asked.

"No," Harry said, shaking his head and glancing up at the other man, "Go outside. Enjoy the sun."

Malfoy stared at him for another moment like he couldn't believe this was actually happening before turning and heading out into the sand. Harry watched through the window as Malfoy spread his arms and tilted his head back to the sunlight, a smile on his face. It made him want to cry.

After another moment, he turned and made his way to the writing desk to pen a letter to send to Hermione that she could deliver to Kingsley.

Dear Kingsley, The conditions in which I found Draco Malfoy were so appallingly unacceptable that I deemed it necessary to remove him immediately. I'm sending along my findings on his living conditions in an official report with this letter along with any of the records that I managed to obtain from the unspeakables regarding the illegal activities, bordering on torture, that were performed. I will not be returning him to the unspeakables under any circumstances. Draco Malfoy will remain in my custody until he is granted an official Ministry Pardon. His time served in inhumane living conditions ought to make up for any lack of official punishment. I will also be remaining off the grid until Draco Malfoy has been granted the Ministry's Pardon. We both know that fundraiser season is approaching, so I hope you are able to sort this out as soon as possible so I can return to my work. Helping charitable organizations to function and serve those still suffering is important to me. You may send any correspondence to me via Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Sincerely, Harry Potter

Harry read through the letter once more, making sure he'd been clear enough. Then he attached the letter to the official reports he'd written up and attached it to Mel's leg. She was a lovely parrot and they assured him that she would do just as well as any owl could. "Off you go," he murmured. "Take these to Hermione but be sure to rest on the way, yes?"

She nibbled his finger and he gave her a treat before she flew off.

He glanced out the window at Malfoy who was laying in the sand, soaking up the sun, and hoped that Kingsley would get back to him with a pardon before Malfoy realized that he was just as much a prisoner here as he was in the Department of Mysteries.

---------

Veritaserum Part 1 | Veritaserum Part 3 | Veritaserum Part 4 | Veritaserum Part 5 |

Are you guys interested in reading another part of this fic? Drop me a comment or send me an ask, if you'd like to read more. (or if you'd like to be tagged in the next part.)

I'm tagging anyone who said they wanted to read a part two below!

@gaygirldrarryblog, @londonthunderr, @tardis-221b, @nv-md, @chinike, @somevelvetmorniing, @drarrywritar, @rheya1864

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[alfredosauce50]

From a past life [Yandere vampire! Romania x reader]

Synopsis: For centuries, he waited for your return--your rebirth. So when he finally learns of your whereabouts just outside of Wallachia, he rushes to meet you in hopes of becoming what you both used to be. But he runs into a predicament when he learns you're in a relationship with a man, a pesky human mortal by the name of Daniel. He'll do anything to get rid of him, even if he has to play dirty. He made a promise to you that he would find you for the rest of your lifetimes, so God forbid that he breaks it. Wordcount: 3, 813 The reader is referred to as she/her.

A trip to Romania had always been on your bucket list. Your boyfriend was just as excited to go, but he wouldn’t have been if it turned out to be the last trip you'd ever go on with him.

Today was when you would visit the highlight of your itinerary. On the Transylvania side of the border with Wallachia, and nestled in miles of rolling hills, was Bran castle. The awe-inspiring fortress told one of the most famous tales of old as Count Dracula's abode. Or at least, it was rumored to be as it fit the description of it.

Needless to say, you were dragging him around the estate to admire anything and everything that piqued your interest or served as a potential photo spot. “Oh, hurry up, Daniel! This is where he slept!” Scrambling closer to the grand bed, which was certainly framed with more wood than needed, you leaned in behind the red rope that fenced off the artifact. Then, you flashed him a wide grin.

He returned the gesture with a tender smile of his own. “I'm as old as this castle, kicsim. Let me take things in slowly.”

“You're only three years older than me. I don't think you have the right to call me little or yourself old.” Flattening your lips at that, your frown melted away as quickly as it appeared.

“But look! Dracula's sheets and mattress. Though it would make more sense to say it was Vlad's... The guy he was based on. Hmm, but that wouldn't make sense either.”

The man rubbed the nape of his neck with a soft laugh. It was no doubt he shared your enthusiasm, but your unapologetic passion always made him fall harder than he already had. “Yep. I believe he was imprisoned here. I don't think he'd be getting the master bedroom.” He appeared from behind and rested himself on your head as you placed a pistol grip on your chin.

“Even then, I can't imagine him sleeping so soundly after sticking so many sticks up people's--” Two strong arms squeezed around your waist to make you gasp.

“Ah-!”

“Okay! What do you say we go down to the gardens for a walk, hm?”

And that was exactly what the two of you did. Skipping out in front of him, you held onto his hands and swung his arms. “I'm gonna go down to the pond, okay? You can enjoy this place nice and slowly like the old person you are.”

This was the greenest garden you ever had the pleasure to stroll through, even the tea house blended in with its moss-covered roof. It only emphasized how ancient this castle really was, and something about it delighted you in ways you couldn't articulate.

“Alright, kicsim. I'll see what nice flowers I'll add to my hair.” Daniel scooped the pink blossom from his hazel brown bangs and placed it behind your ear. “When I do, I'll come get you. Don't let any vampires find you before I do.” Shooting you a wink at that, you pecked him on the nose before running off.

Who would have thought those words would ring truer than he intended? Several miles away, slept a man who was as old as Bran castle. His name too was Vlad, though he never earned such a fearsome reputation by impaling his enemies. Instead, he kept a low profile and dedicated his long, neverending life to finding someone.

Every restless night, she was what he dreamed of since her passing.

When I go, promise me you'll find me again.

Promise me.

Fluttering his eyes awake, they glowed a blood-red in the darkness of his bedroom. They drooped with a tiredness that never seemed to go away no matter how much he rested.

Sliding off the mattress, he folded the flaps of his robes tightly around his body before making his way into the halls. Every corner of this humble countryside cottage he called his home was enshrouded with shadows, and not to mention the thick coating of dust caking the top of every shelf, couch, and tabletop.

He hadn't cleaned this house for centuries. His will to try withered away through the years in his lonesome, but he was patient. Peeking through the gap between the curtains of his overgrown hair, his irises shrunk as the blinding daylight poured into them through the drapes of his living room window. He could feel it in his dead still heart.

Something had changed.

Out there in the world scorched by the sun, was something even warmer. And it was so familiar, so tender, he could not mistake it for anything else, or anybody else for that matter.

She was nearby, and the thought filled him to the brim with a joy so potent, tears of relief welled in his wide eyes. He had waited hundreds of years for this moment. For her return. Her rebirth that would usher in his own.

The prospect was so invigorating, he felt as if his heart began to beat again. He never felt so alive. Scurrying back to his bedroom, he sat in front of his vanity to access his appearance. He had to look presentable before meeting her, hadn't he? A bedhead like this and nightwear would simply not do.

Especially when he hadn't cut his hair for at least twenty years.

Giving his long locks of strawberry-blonde a thorough comb, he let it fall straight down to his lower back. With a few quick snips, he shortened his bangs by a few inches to give the impression he had some sort of control over an otherwise uncontrollable mane of hair.

As he shed himself of his robes in exchange for day clothes, a white dress shirt paired with dark plaid pants, one singular thought repeated in his head like a broken record. As morbid as it sounded, it was more of a Godsend than anything.

Death was never the end. Not for her, and not for him. Or rather, a new beginning.

But it didn't start the way he imagined. Following her sweet scent to the gardens of the famed Bran castle, he found the smell growing more and more pungent, albeit confused. It was mixed with another's, tainted by the stench of a human male. His irises thinned to slits, and he tensed up all over. How could this be?

Hiding behind a tree, he peered over the side to confirm his suspicion.

There she was, her beauty as pristine and untouched as the last time he loved her. For just one second, he was over the moon. But his euphoria was short-lived when he saw that she was with a man. Kissing him, even. Even though it was just on the nose, any further down her face would have caused him to start an apocalypse.

That insignificant, trifling, and scheming little creature. He was about to reap what he sowed. How dare he take his place? It was him she was meant to with, not that pesky mortal!

Whipping his head to the front, his eyes went round with disbelief and his breathing grew ragged. An unfathomable ache spread in his chest as he dug his nails into the bark. How could he have let this happen? It took every shred of his willpower to keep the waterworks at bay.

His throbbing heart was also weighed down with a pang of heavy guilt. To allow another soul to be this close to her was a grave disservice to the promise he made. But that didn't mean he couldn't undo this.

In just a few seconds, he formulated an intricate plan to carry out well-deserved revenge. To have her in his arms again, and him, out of the picture where he belonged. In the blink of an eye, he appeared behind the man and tapped him on the shoulder. When he spun around, he grabbed him by the neck and caught him in a trance with his hypnotizing, inhuman gaze.

“You will give these flowers to the nearest young woman you see. Put them in her hair and kiss her on the lips.” Opening his own palm, he materialized three peonies before placing them in the other's.

Unable to escape the powerful snare cast by a vampire such as himself, Daniel did so as told. “I will give these flowers to the nearest young woman I see. I will put them in her hair and kiss her on the lips.” He reiterated monotonously with his eyes glazed over.

Watching the helpless man saunter off, he smirked devilishly as he exchanged glances with his long-lost lover. This would hurt her a great deal, but she would only be devastated if he never did it.

You had been watching the pond, completely ignorant to the scene that was about to unfold. Little did you know, it was purposely orchestrated. Using a stick to prod at your reflection, you lingered on the ripples distorting it before glancing up. In the distance was none other than your boyfriend, and judging from the pink in his hands, he found his flowers.

So you stood up. You would have snuck up on him as a surprise, but your feet remained firmly planted on the ground when you witnessed him give it away, then flirt with another woman. It couldn't be mistaken for anything else. He was kissing her!

Frankly, you couldn't believe it. One year was all it took for him to lose interest? Blood flushed your face as bile rose in your throat. How could he? And during a vacation at that, too! Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes, but you blinked them away when you heard the light treading of feet nearby.

This had to be a misunderstanding. Right?

Spinning to the source, you found yourself staring at the most peculiar man you had ever seen. He carried a delicate parasol to shade him from the sunlight. Combined with his pasty white skin, it was almost as if he was one of the very mythological creatures the country was renowned for.

He smiled gently, almost understandingly.

“Are you alright, domnișoară? I have a spare handkerchief if you'd like.” His alluring voice was as bewitching as a siren, but his mere presence brought you unspeakable comfort. And yet, he was nothing but a stranger, an odd one at that, so you were at a loss to realize that all it took for you to gravitate towards him was for your eyes to meet.

“I'm okay, thank you. But I couldn't possibly accept something like that. I mean, I don't know you...” Waving your hands at the man apologetically, you took the opportunity to scan him up and down.

As if he walked right out of a fairytale, he oozed prince-like charm. His clothes were traditional and refined, but that long, silky hair of his was certainly a rare sight--rare but breathtakingly beautiful. It gave his character untold notions of grandeur, mystery, and an inexplicable impression he was ancient.

But that couldn't be, not when he didn't look a day over twenty.

“What do you mean, you won't take it? It's yours.” He pulled out a small piece of fabric from his sleeve. Placing the finely embroidered cloth into your palm, he never gave you the chance to object. “It would be rude to regift something, so you'll have to keep it forever.” Mischief curled at his lips, and you couldn't help but laugh a little.

“Alright, alright, you got me there.”

You dabbed away the moisture before breathing out a sigh.

“I'm sure you're a very nice person, but I can't bother you more than I already have. Thank you, again, Mr. Vampire.” If it weren't for how heartbroken you were, you would have been mortified. Being pitied by a Romanian local was never part of your plan.

Just when you were betrayed by Daniel, he appeared like a knight in shining armor. If only you could forget what happened between you and your boyfriend. Otherwise, you would be bragging about meeting a vampire in Romania for as long as you could talk.

“Mr. Vampire?” He lifted his head before revealing a pair of sharp fangs in a grin. Now that caught you off guard. “You don't see me calling you miss human--and I have a name, thank you very much.” As he placed his gloved hand on his chest to playfully feign offense, he bit back another smile at the sound of your amused giggling.

Despite what happened a few minutes ago, talking to this actor was making you feel better already.

“And let me guess, is it Alucard?” You shook your head. “Or is it Vlad? You can't possibly call yourself Dracula looking like that.”

He blinked incredulously, then curved an arm over his face as if to cover himself with his non-existent cloak. “How did you know?”

“That your name is Alucard?”

“No, Vlad.”

“Okay, close enough. It was nice meeting you, Vlad, but I have a stupid boyfriend to scream at.” At the mention of that, you looked like you were on the verge of tears again. “All I'm hoping is that he's still my boyfriend after this. If only he were as much of a gentleman as you.”

He reflected your distress in a frown, and you would have been surprised by how much this apparently bothered him. But you already walked off. So he offered one last niceity before you strayed too far. “Good luck with your boyfriend.”

“No promises.”

He let those two words affect him more than he intended. Needless to say, he moved on quickly to watch you run to the unsuspecting brunette. Soon, his anguish was staved off by the sight of you shoving him back a few steps.

What looked like a one-sided argument broke out, and all the poor, confused man could do was just that--be confused. Shortly after, you stormed off, and he jogged behind, desperately calling your name.

A sinister smile cracked at Vlad's lips, and his irises glowed red. That little thing had no idea what was yet to happen to him.

That night, Daniel took you to the Brașov city hall for dinner. The beautiful buildings surrounding a fountain were as traditional as they were clean. Too bad your zeal was burned away by your anger. In the few hours in the hotel before, he barely managed to soothe it by explaining himself. A given, considering his explanation made no sense whatsoever.

He couldn't remember flirting with a woman.

“I think we could share a pizza. Are you okay with that?” Lifting his gaze to meet yours, you only turned away to stare out the window into the endless night. Your spaciness was deserved on his part, but little did he know, it only had so much to do with his wrongdoings.

The eccentric local never left your mind. After all, he gave you something to smile about with his whimsical kindness.

Vlad must have been an entertainer, a virtuoso at that, but his actions never came off as ingenuine. To be frank, you were drawn to his sincerity, and even looking for him subconsciously, wishing that he could magically appear because you willed it.

If only Daniel could be just as sincere.

“I must be okay with a lot of things.” His face fell. The same sorrow from when he was at the hotel room returned, but you couldn't care to give it any attention. “Like you pretending you didn't kiss someone right in front of me because you don't remember. I'm not stupid. Who else would have long hair tied back and flowers in their fringe?”

Daniel knitted his brows so tightly together, creases formed between them. “... I know it sounds like I'm lying, but I swear to you I didn't do it. You know me, (F/N).” At this point, he hadn't the foggiest what to say to appease you because he simply didn't do it. “I promise. All I'm asking is for you to trust me.”

“You promise?” You fumed.

There was only one thing you hated more than a liar.

“I trusted you, Daniel, I really did. But how could you ask me to trust you after I talked to that girl? She remembered it, so why can't you? Did you think I was that crazily into you I could let anything slide?” The biting truth silenced him, but it was the sound of you choking back tears that broke his heart.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom to think this over.”

He had no way to argue with you, let alone the heart to when it was just broken and crushed to a thin slab of flesh. What if he really did kiss someone, and miraculously forgot?

“When I come back, I better not see you kissing anybody again.”

Standing up at that, he watched you leave with a defeated expression. Then, he folded his arms across the table and buried his face into it. There was no way he could fail that, could he?

What were the odds of kissing someone again when he had absolutely no intention to? The chances were dwindling at zero as he kept his head down. Unless supernatural forces were at work, nothing could get him to budge from sitting at this table.

But even he couldn't count on the world of the mundane to save him.

Sitting a few tables away was the exact opposite of mundane. When the front door slammed shut, he stood up and walked to the customer with their head down. While all the men in the establishment wore their hair short, his was long and flowing like time itself. There was something other-worldly about him. Something ghostly in the way he walked.

With every step he took, his feet never seemed to touch the ground as if he was floating. And his pale complexion was just as macabre as how he carried himself.

Not a minute passed, and Daniel found himself standing outside by the fountain. With absolutely no recollection, he somehow left the restaurant and wound up here in the festive courtyard. As shock paralyzed him from head to toe, the only thought that occurred to him was this. What in the hell was going on?

Rather than sitting head down in the warm restaurant, he was out here, chilled by the biting European cold. Couldn't he have at least remembered the transition?

In front of him was the same woman he supposedly flirted with in the gardens. And judging from the blush on her cheeks, he just threw away all his chances at making up with you.

“Listen, I... I don't know you. Forget me. Forget this ever happened.” Daniel trembled, feeling a chill run down his spine as he staggered back a few steps. It was like a nightmare he couldn't wake up from. There was just no sound explanation for this when this situation wasn't sound at all. Whatever it was, this was clearly a case of sabotage.

And like hell he was giving in to whoever that masterminded it.

He ran back inside with a fearful kind of urgency. Rushing back to the table he unwillingly abandoned, he froze when he saw you marching towards him down the aisle with murder on your mind. But death was too lenient a punishment. It would grant him a clean slate, a new beginning from a past life of unfaithfulness.

So he was splashed with a glass of red wine instead.

As the crimson liquid soaked his hair, it spread over his shirt like blood. After you saw what he did, the last shred of hope you didn't know you had died, squelched out there on his clothes for the world to see. A chorus of gasps was heard from every corner of the restaurant. Unbeknownst to the patrons who murmured amongst themselves, it wasn't just any lover's quarrel they were watching.

Daniel's breath hitched as he struggled to process his mortification. Behind you stood the very gentleman that tapped him awake, but he never made the connection between him and his misfortunes.

And perhaps, it was better that way.

After leaving your boyfriend for good, Vlad offered to walk with you around the city. Once again, he had swooped in to save you, only this time around, he was staying.

“So... What are you gonna do now?” He asked, casting a tender gaze your way. Before you could wrap your arms around yourself, he beat you to it and flung his cloak around your body. When you gawked at him, he only grinned toothily with his fangs.

Your cheeks reddened and you turned away. Why he was still in his vampire getup was beyond you. But seeing his enthusiasm only reminded you that you lost yours. “... Book another hotel room. Spend the rest of this holiday crying. Maybe never think of this country ever again.”

“And I'm not letting you do any of those things.” He hummed, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Why do you think I'm walking with you right now, hm? I'm gonna take you around to the best spots in Transylvania. The most haunted ones, I mean. So you can forget about going back to the hotel.”

You sighed but managed a small smile. “That's great and all, but I'm not made of money. And my stuff is all there.”

He squinted. “... Oh yeah. But after we get your stuff, we can go elsewhere, can't we?”

A few laughs fell from your lips. His generosity really knew no bounds. “Your house, then? You do realize I only met you today, right?”

Vlad closed his eyes. He could beg to differ.

“But you're still walking with me alone. In the dark.”

“Only because you saw me cry twice today. I wouldn't be mad if you killed me so I don't have to be so embarrassed.” He frowned at the sound of that, so you added this. “I was just kidding. Something about you just makes me feel... Strangely comfortable. Like I've met you before. Isn't that weird?”

“... Not really.” Reaching the top of a hill, he stared at an old castle in the distance, sitting high up in the mountains. “There's a legend about this city. Hundreds of years ago, a vampire and a human woman fell in love. She died, of course. But people say he's still around, waiting for her to reincarnate so they can be together again.”

The way he spoke was so sad, it was almost as if he was that very vampire himself. But what did that have to do with you?

“... Okay. Then do you think he'll ever find her?”

Vlad turned to you with an unreadable expression, but there was an untold fondness in how he looked at you.

“He already has.”

[cheekygreenty]

Little Witch - Part 4

The Darkling x Reader

You stood still for a long time, pondering over what to tell him. There was so much he didn't know and so much you didn't want to share. You needed him to ask specific questions. You really couldn't afford to let your mouth run.

'Okay.'

You sat down at the end of your bed, fiddling with your hands. You felt nervous now. Should you lie? Was it worth feeling his wrath at a later date for a couple more months of peace? For a brief second your eyes went to his hands. The hands that can do unspeakable things, that can inflict the worst pain and kill in an instant. But they can also do other things too. You craved the power he possessed because you knew you could have it again one day.

'What happened that day?' He said softly, still not moving from his place beside the door.

You had imagined this day thousands of times, finally seeing your Aleksander, him asking you where you went. What happened. You gave the same answer every time. It was memorized and clung in the back of your mind. Yet now, finding yourself in the dream you lived over and over countless times, you were stuck for words. You didn't know where to start even though it was obvious, start at the beginning. Your palms were sweating now and your breath became erratic.

'Well ummm-' you were uncomfortable. Your walls were breaking down. He always had this effect on you. Get yourself together you fool.

‘-It wasn't my fault. I swear it. I don't know what you've heard but I swear on the Saints I didn't mean for it to happen.' You became frantic and words were coming out of your mouth unfiltered.

'Y/N what are you talking about?!'

'When I went to look for those Grisha that day, near the Fjerdan border, there was a scuffle. One of the villagers knew what I was, started getting in my face. He wouldn't stop talking and screaming about how horrid I was; about how disgusting I was. I- It happened before I knew it I swear, I didn't wish anybody any harm.'

I'm not like you.

'I didn't mean for it to happen, I pushed myself and got cocky. I lost all control.' A tear slipped out of your eye.

'Y/N It's okay, it's over no-'

'No. You need to know what happened, you wanted to know and I'll tell you.' You wiped the tear and went on, your eyes focused on your hands.

'He was cut in half by the time his daughter started running for the door.-' You gave a weak laugh.

'- and then I went after her. and her mother. her brother. their neighbors. Everybody. Even my own kind. My own Grisha.' You were sobbing, hearty cries left your throat. 'There was nobody left.'

You had killed before but never like this. This was completely unmotivated, there was no reason to obliterate a whole village. You could still remember every detail, the smell of copper in the air and the labored last breaths. With shame, you could also remember the buzz of power and how euphoric it felt.

'I have seen red, Aleksander. And 98 years later I'm still having nightmares about my doings. I don't know what happened. I swear. All my abilities vanished after it. I was just a murderous otkazat’sya standing in a village of dead bodies. I was exactly what he said I was.'

'Why didn't you come back to me?' His voice was strained, sad. He moved closer to you but you refused to look at him. You sniffed.

'I tried. I got close. But then Baghra sent me a lovely message. It was simple. 'Don't come back'. An inferni managed to escape me but not before being killed by your sweet mother for knowing what had happened-'

You finally look at him. He looked heartbroken, but not for all those people you killed; for you. His hands reached for your fumbling ones. A feeling of warmth and confidence spread through you while the guilt grew.

'-I believe my massacre was covered up very well though, what was it again? Oh yes, the Druskelle attacked and left no survivors? burned down the remnants? I can only imagine what would happen if the truth got out, what would the King think? He would have your head on a spike before I even came back.'

'They told me you were dead. That the Druskelle killed you on sight.'

His thumb caressed your hand, trying to soothe you. Truth was, there was no soothing to do. You faced the facts of your experience, or rather inexperience, a long time ago. You were dangerous when you couldn't control yourself; when anger and arrogance took over. You don't have the luxury of being a normal person with the ability to feel when you needed to feel. You never will, no matter the control you have.

'Well, you know now.' You stood up and got away from him. He was an amplifier, whatever you felt without him, you felt x10 more when he touched you.

'What did you do next?'

'I hid. It wasn't hard. Nobody knew what I looked like. I wasn't a Grisha in anybody's eyes, not even mine. I grew weak and sick since I had no power to use. It went on like that for 2 years until I came across a heartrenderer near Poliznaya. I was on the verge of death, he tried to help, and as soon as he touched me I flipped the card. He was gasping for air while my body felt like my body again. I ran off before I had any more blood on my hands.'

'Is that when you started seeking out other Grisha?' He was trying to follow along. He was intently listening and not interrupting. You were surprised he wasn't mad that you killed his Grisha in cold blood.

'No. I went to Shu Han. Learned to fight. To survive without the comfort of the Little Palace or a hospital ward.' The Little Palace and its luxuries spoiled you beyond repair. Aleksander made sure you had everything you ever needed, except the one thing you needed most: self-control training. He tended to subdue you, but you couldn't blame him, not after all you've done.

He reached for you once again.

'You're safe now Darling. I'm not judging you. I wouldn't dare.'

You didn't know whether to run into his arms or move as far back as you could. You always tied his darkness, his shadows, to the event that took place. His shadows were what you killed with and it was his power that brought you over the edge yet you still craved it regardless.

But for the first time since yesterday, his mere touch and comfort were needed more than his power. His arms enveloped your waist and pulled you into him. You finally relaxed. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest through his thick kefta. You allowed yourself this moment to block out the world. It was just you and him, the Darkling and the Witch.

'Y/N, you have no idea how much I have missed you.' He whispered into your hair and held you tighter, his true emotions showing.

It wasn't long before you broke away from Aleksander and awkwardly stared at him.

'Okay.......I'm done talking for today' you joked with a sad smile. Your tears now completely dried on your face but your eyes still puffy. Aleksander took this as a very clear sign to leave. Although the last thing he wanted was to leave you alone in this state, something told him you knew how to handle yourself.

'Alright then, I shall leave you to it' He about to head for the door when he remembered what brought him to your room in the first place.

'Y/N?'

'Yes?'

'Impressive kefta orders might I say. Should I be alarmed?' Fedyor must have reported to him right away when he heard your requests for the seamstress. You rolled your eyes and let out a genuine laugh. Aleksander's heart skipped a beat.

'I'm making up for lost time'

'I'm hoping' His words carried a weight you didn't expect and didn't acknowledge.

'Do you wish to dine with the rest of the Grisha?'

'Where would I sit? I'm sure my chair has been removed.' You once had a proud chair next to The Darkling. He never dared put you into a single Grisha order, much like your keftas, he always went along with your idea to not conform.

'I can bring it back if you like.'

'Maybe next time, I'll eat here for now'

'Alone?'

'Yes.' you breathed.

'Very well. '

'Goodbye General.' You mocked and seen a smirk on his beautiful face. You missed him too.

------------------------------------------------------------

Part 5

@xceafh @fire-in-her-veinz @cleverzonkwombatsludge @wizardwheezes @aleksanderwh0r3 @tomhollandisabae @hotleaf-juice @justmesadgirl

[astaroth1357]

Leviathan's Odyssey 5:

God

*Mammon is happily about to break into Lucifer's study yet again when he hears the sound of banging metal and high-pitched shrieking coming from the kitchen... Knowing what the likely source, he swallows his reluctance in order to go check on what's happening*

*Beel is in the kitchen when he runs in, having narrowly dodged the flying butcher knife that lodges into the wall next to his ear… Little Satan is strapped into a high chair, wailing at the top of his lungs and banging his fists against a nearby countertop*

Mammon: BEEL!! What the hell is goin’ on in here!? Weren’t ya in charge of feedin’ him??

Satan: DIE!!!! DIE!! Diedie!!!

*a frying pan appears to float off of its hook and goes flying towards Mammon’s face but Beel manages to grab its handle before it knocks him out*

Beel: I was! But I think I made him mad…!!

Mammon: *gulps when he sees the metal pan just an inch from his nose, but has to push it aside quickly* He’s ALWAYS mad, Beel! What'cha do this time??

Beel: Nothing! *ducks a riocheting butter knife* I just…! Well…

Mammon: Spit it out already!!

Beel: I was trying to teach him how to eat, okay?? But he poked himself with a fork and lost it!

Satan: DIIIEEEE!!!!! 

*previously thrown kitchen supplies lift off of the floor and start flying at them for a round two. Beel rips a cabinet door from its hinges to shield them while Mammon takes the frying pan to bat away the murderous forks and spoons*

Mammon: Beel!! We agreed that we weren’t givin’ him that stuff yet! He’ll kill us all!!

Beel: Yeah, yeah I know but it’s not fair! He should learn how to feed himself like the rest of us!

Mammon: Now’s not the time for “fair,” Beel!!

*apparently hearing the commotion himself, Asmo storms into the kitchen wearing nothing but a bathrobe and a beauty mask - but even covered in cleanser, he look PISSED*

Asmo: WHY IS IT SO LOUD IN HERE!?!

*Mammon grabs Asmo by the arm and pulls him out of the way of an iron cauldron careening his way. Asmo shrieks at the sudden pull and clutches onto Mammon for dear life following the close save*

Asmo: What is the little monster doing now?!? Why are things flying??

Mammon: Quit callin’ him a monster and hell if I know! It’s not like he knows any spells!!

Beel: *whacks away a meat tenderizer aimed at Asmo’s cheek* I think he’s just really mad!

Asmo: *throws his hands up in despair* Of course of all the babies in all the world, we managed to get one that radiates homicide!!

Mammon: Shut your trap and go wake up Belphie! Lucifer’s still with Diavolo so he’s gotta be the one to put him to sleep this time!

Asmo: Me?? Why me??? Belphie won’t get up for me, make Beel do it!

Mammon: Are ya blind AND stupid?? I need Beel here with me! Just scream or something ‘till Belphie wakes up! It’s all you’re good for anyway!

Asmo: Shut up, you money-grubbing dirtbag!!

Beel: NOT THE TIME!! GO NOW!!!

*Asmo yelps a bit at the volume, but he manages to run out of the kitchen without much injury*

Satan: DIE!! Die! Die! DIE!!

Mammon: *pops his head out from behind their cover* Yeah we get it little buddy, ya don’t like us! But would it kill ya to cut it out??

Satan: DIIIIEEEE!!!!!!

*Mammon quickly jerks back behind the "shield" as a set of five knives all lodge themselves into it*

Mammon: Fuck, okay nevermind!!

*it only takes a couple minutes of fighting off the cutlery for Asmo to come back with a drowsy, but upright, Belphie in tow*

Belphie: What’s happening here…??

Mammon: No time for explainin’!

*Mammon swiftly grabs Belphie and sticks him behind Beel before taking the cabinet door from him*

Mammon: Grab another, Beel!

*while Beel rips off the other door, Mammon keeps shouting over the chaos*

Mammon: Belph, ya gotta knock out the kid! Beel and I will protect ya, just stay behind us then get’em outta the chair! Do what ya gotta do after that!

Belphie: *stays right behind Beel but groans* What did you do this time…??

Mammon: Shuddup and move!!

*the three of them start approaching the baby in the high chair, still wailing at the top of his lungs. Between the two cabinet doors and their combined reflexes, Beel and Mammon are able to keep Belphie more or less shielded from the flying utensils until they finally get close enough from him to make a move*

*Belphie jumps forward enough to grab the buckle to Satan’s seat, ignoring his little fists as they try to rip his hair out, and he gets the baby out of the chair as quick as he can manage*

Belphie: Ow!! Okay, lights out, kid!!

*Belphie sticks his hand over Satan’s eyes and, gradually, his struggling loses its gusto until the little baby falls asleep in his arms. All the kitchen supplies fall to the ground and it seems like his tantrum is finally over…*

Mammon: *drops the “shield” he was holding* Oh thank fuck that worked!! No more forks for him, Beel!

Beel: *also sets down his “shield” and looks down guiltily* But how is he ever going to eat right…?

Mammon: We’ll just have to teach him when he gets better.

Belphie: “If” he gets better…

*there’s a silence between the brothers as the gravity of that thought sinks in… What if he never gets any better…?*

*But then the little boy yawns*

Satan: *yaaaawn* Pa…

*all heads in the room snap towards the baby demon and everyone holds their breath. That was a new sound… right?*

Satan: Pa… Per… wish…

Beel: “Per… wish?”

Belphie: I think he meant, “Perish…” 

Asmo: *groans* Of course his second word also means, “Die!”

Mammon: But he’s learnin’! That’s what Lucifer said, right? 

*Mammon comes over and carefully takes the sleeping Satan from Belphie, holding him not unlike how he used to do all of them when they were young*

Mammon: He’ll get better, alright? Believe your big brothers for once! Ya guys weren’t all that different than this...

Asmo: *rolls his eyes* That’s such a lie...

Mammon: Shuddup Asmo, I’m serious! We just gotta be patient…

Beel: Do you think Lilith could have calmed him down…?

*again, there’s another silence in the room… aside from Satan’s soft snoring. For once, it seems like his little brothers are looking at Mammon for something… comfort maybe?*

Mammon: Lilith… *he fights the urge to bite his lip by holding Satan a little tighter* Lilith woulda been patient with’em… Levi too. They’d have helped us out… 

Belphie: If they were still here…

Mammon: *sighs* Yeah Belphie. If they were still here… but we don’t gotta focus on that part, ya know?

*Mammon starts walking towards the exit, patting little Satan on his sleepy head*

Mammon: I’m puttin’ the little shit to bed. Ya got feedin’ duty again tomorrow, Beel. No forks this time.

Beel: *nods quietly* Alright…

Mammon: *stops at the doorway and looks back* Oh. And “not it” explainin’ this mess to Lucifer. Ya gotta figure that out yourselves!

*as his brothers start to shout out in protest, Mammon just laughs triumphantly while he starts down the hallway. Looks like something isn’t his fault for once*

~Meanwhile in the Deepest Depths of the Ocean~

*for the first time since his conquest began, Levi is completely alone in the darkness. Having conquered every part of the seas above, all he has left is the deepest trenches to explore… home to the nightmares even his army refuses to face*

*perhaps being a stranger to this world has helped him. Whatever force commanded his troops to stay above has no sway on his mind. Even Lotan, his most trusted general, wouldn't follow him into these shadows...*

*he's told only one thing lives here. A creature beyond all comprehension... A being without form, without thought, and without convention, and yet festers into consciousness like a blight on all existence... A creature for which all other monsters fear to the point of insanity yet, strangely, Levi remains undaunted...*

*his mantra of loathing shields him as much as it consumes him. He’ll bow to no beast who believes they're better than him, no matter their size or strength. No one can think they’re better than he is... He’ll prove their lives are worthless in the end*

*finding the creature proved easy. He only had to follow the strings of insanity attempting to strangle his mind, growing ever thicker the closer he’d come. A lesser being may have felt helpless approaching it… a shattering insignificance compared to One that Defies All: a primordial essence from which those below the depths are connected and yet through denial believe to be their own... A Greater Power. A God*

*... but he’s fought a God before. All he saw before him now was an Abomination*

*and what he eventually saw skewered on the end of his trident was just another step on his journey of conquest - even as blood the color of madness plumed in the water around him, boiling his skin and contorting his bones... When the ranting clutter in his mind finally quieted, Levi was something new entirely…*

*he didn’t need to return to his army to feel their presence now. His metamorphosis completed when a ghastly wail that escaped his throat, carried telepathically through the waters around him. A clear signal to all who felt it... Above the sea, you’d hear nothing. But below...*

*a cacophony of shrieks. A chorus of howls. The roar of a new Master and the response of an entire ocean now at his disposal...*

*An army of unspeakable terror flourishing just out of sight…*

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9