#winter moon knight fic

[romanarose]

The Times, They are A-Changing

Just a drabble that came to mind while I tried to find Hanukah decorations. I looked at Hobby Lobby, Party City, Walmart, Joanne Fabrics, and TARGET which I thought was supposed to have them?!?! BUT NOT IN FUCKING WISCONSIN I GUESS!!!! Finally, I went to Michaels and they got me <3

Marc Spector x Jewish!Reader

Winter fic number 1 (full list to come)

*****************

"This is the last store, right baby? We won't have and more room in the car, I'll have to put you on the roof." Marc teased you as you strolled through Michael's craft store.

"Ohhhhh, you gonna tie me up?" You tease back, the hand you were holding being used to pull him and nudge him as he pushed the cart. you had filled with the buy one get one yarn that was sure to wreak havoc on Marc's. He liked this neat, minimal, and you genuinely tried to keep things clean for the sake of his sanity and to combate Steven and Jake's mess, the yarn could... get out of hand. You bought 6 giant spools.

Marc whispered in your ear so the quiet store wouldn't hear. "How can you possibly function being this horny all the time"

"I'm gonna let you in on a secret; I don't" You whisper back.

Marc laughs loudly, a sound you don't get to hear too much. He laughs, sure, but a joyful, carefree laugh isn't common. It's becoming more so, however, as you, Jake and Steven help him. You'd do whatever you could to hear that sound.

Marc watches you stroll the aisles. 'Just yarn!' you had sworn, but he knew that while your intentions were good, you'd end up buying much more than just yarn. That was okay with him. He'd already resigned himself to carrying most of the gift loads in from the car, knowing full well as soon as you brought one bag in, you'd get excited gushing over what you had picked out for everyone's Christmas and Hannukah gifts. Whatever made you happy, he'd do.

And god, everything just made you happy. Tiny little things excited you. Growing up in a house where nothing was enough, it genuinely took time to get used to you. You, who saw him cooking diner when you came home and started crying saying how much you loved him. You, who he took to the zoo and watched you squeal over every new animal, every single one. You, who always massaged his scalp and uttered praise as he ate you out, who more than once even told him 'thank you' while he fucked you into the mattress.

Marc was distracted from that particularly hot daydream to your hand squeezing him tight, your other hand smacking his arm as you called his name. Marc was immediately on edge, looking or danger or a concern or fucking spider, if that's what the problem was.

"Marc... look..." Your eyes were wide, mouth parted. Not scared, not nervous just... surprised?

He followed your line of sight to a display. What, was it going to be an obscene amount of Mandalorian decorations you were about to beg him to- oh.

The display wasn't Star Wars. It was blue and white. It was Hanukah decorations.

"Marc..." You let go of his hand to peruse the decorations on the display. "I've never really seen Hannukah decorations before... usually just a few things here and there... and some blue and white Christmas decorations... but that's about it..."

Marc hadn't much either. Not that he was particularly looking. Decorating his place hasn't exactly been on the for front of his mind the last few decades, and if he was being honest, he straight up hadn't been practicing. But since you came into his life... Well it started with Shabbat. You always tried to cook a nice diner and say the prayers. Then he started joining you for the High Holy Days, then it just took off from there. He had grown to love his heritage and it helped him feel connected with his community, his people, and his, and he can't believe he's saying this, his family. The ones he wanted to be connected to, anyway. His dad was over the moon (ha) when he had called to tell him he was seeing someone, and someone Jewish at that. He was over the moon when Marc called anyway, since it was pretty rare. That was another thing about you. You made him want to make peace with his past. He called more often now.

He noticed tears in your eyes. "Baby, are you okay?" Marc wrapped his arms around you as you looked at the "Happy Challah Days" sign.

"Yeah" You smiled and sniffled. "It's just been a long few years, you know? With everything with Qanon and Kanye and Majorie Taylor Green, all the attacks recently, and feeling like I couldn't be Jewish with my ex..." You took a steadying breath "It's just really nice to see. There's so much, it doesn't feel like a few shitty items thrown in to get diversity points."

"Yeah" Marc agreed, in a bit of shock himself to see it in such a major store. "It's beautiful, I guess things do change..." He kissed the side of your head. "You can buy the whole rack if you want, baby."

You didn't, but you damn near came close.

***************

THANK YOU FOR READING I LOVE YOU!!!!!

In my head, this takes place within the Seattle universe, so if you read that fic, imagine it's Marc and Rebecca after they settle down <3

I am not Jewish, but I am converting, so if I said anything offensive r in correct, please tell me!

Also, thank you to everyone who has been SO NICE!!!! After the troll the other day. It really hurt my feelings but everyone has been so so so sweet <3

tagging a few people who might enjoy <3

@milkymoon2483 @apollo-enthusiast @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[thepaperpanda]

An Icy Adventure || Steven Grant x fem!reader

Masterlist ❄

Summary: One winter day, you decide to surprise Steven with a little ice skating lesson

Warnings: none

Word count: 1592

Author: Rouge

A/N: today’s prompt: go ice skating on a frozen lake

You loved winter. There was something crystalline about winter, those brilliant rays that revealed every snowflake's uniqueness. You were surrounded by puddles that became temporary skating rinks and your thoughts were secluded within your favorite woolen hat. There was anticipation of the joys to come in that wonderland of white, in that frozen water-world, of learning new ways to move gracefully over such a landscape. 

When Steven agreed to stroll in Hyde Park, to the Serpentine, you felt overwhelmed with happiness.

You chose a thick, woolen sweater with a reindeer theme, a fitted, black, strapped shirt beneath it, and thick, high-waisted jeans for your date. Black leather, high-heeled winter boots, a thick, brown jacket on top and your favorite black, woolen hat with a fluffy pompon completed your outfit.

Steven looked around at all the snow that had fallen last night. Although it wasn't much, it gave the place a certain winter charm. Despite the cold, it wasn't that bad for him, especially when he was you. "Y/N!" He smiled and waved at you. "Isn't it pleasant to be all bundled up and cozy?"

After climbing your tiptoes, you told Steven, "Yes, I am," and placed a brief kiss on his cheek; Steven was taller than you. Immediately after, you grabbed his gloved hand - you had gifted him with a pair of woolen gloves made of Egyptian cotton with a floral motif that he wore a lot when the temperature dropped below 5°.

Trying to cover your ears with your hat, he worriedly inquired, "You sure you aren't cold? I don't want you to catch a cold.

"Steven, you are being silly. It's not that cold today, and we're going to move a lot," you replied, pointing at a backpack on your back. "I brought some things that might help us though. I also made you a tea, I have it in a thermal mug inside."

He smiled and kissed your gloved hand, saying, "You are my little angel. Nevertheless, I am worried about you."

Due to your flat's proximity to Hyde Park, the stroll was quick and easy. "Wondering what activity I've chosen for us?" A smirk spread across your lips.

A soft shrug was given by Steven as he chuckled. "Although I am sure it is wonderful, I'm a little wary of your idea due to your eagerness."

While walking past the snow-covered bench, you stopped, put your backpack on it, and slowly unzipped it, letting Steven peek inside. In the backpack, there were two pairs of skates. One pair was white and larger, and the other was black, shorter.

The two pairs of pretty skates made him blink; of course you mentioned your little hobby in the beginning of your relationship, but he felt lost now. "Love, those are beautiful, but are you going to invite someone else? I mean, I see two pairs. You skate, but I don't." Seeing your smiling face, Steven paused. So that's what you were planning. "I love you a lot, Y/N, but I can't skate. I prefer my limbs to remain intact."

As you cupped his face in your gloved hands and rubbed his cheeks with your thumbs, you said, "I know you're a little concerned, but I want you to trust me, nothing will happen to you, and we'll have a great time!"

"I can't even tie those bloody skates right," he shook his head, looking at you. "In all honesty, I'd rather just watch you."

"Let's make a deal: I'll skate first, and you'll watch. I'll show you a few steps, and if you feel okay, you can try as well."

"I like the sound of that,” Steven agreed.

"Despite the fact that skating on ice seems intimidating, if you have the right equipment and a little patience, you can learn how to do it!" You told Steven as you led him to the frozen lake. 

On the frozen surface of the lake, several people were already ice skating.

Playing with his hands, Steven questioned, "Aren't you afraid the ice will break? Or that you'll break a leg or an arm?"

On the edge of the frozen lake, you sat in the snow, you pulled out the black skates; after that, you started putting them on, replacing your winter boots with them. "No, Steven, because if I thought negatively, I would draw bad luck. That's why I think positively," you replied. "There were almost three weeks of bitter cold, don't you remember? The ice is thick enough to support the weight of a very well-built man."

In response, Steven nodded and continued to play with his hands. "Yeah, yea, I bet you're right, luv."

His attention was drawn to the way you tied your skates. He mumbled a quiet 'bloody hell' and then sat next to you. In a nervous giggle, Steven pointed at the skates and asked, "Can you help me with those? Kind of like Cinderella..."

Disbelief filled your eyes - you never expected him to actually try ice skating with you! As you reached into your backpack to retrieve the other pair of skates, a quiet giggle escaped your lips. "You will be my Cinderella, and I will be your Prince Charming. So, my lady, please take off the shoes and put them on. Once you are done, please let me know and I will lace them up for you."

Steven removed his shoes and took skates from you to put them on with blush on his face.

When he nodded at you, indicating he was ready, you knelt down and started lacing the skates. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just a little stressed, but I'm fine overall."

"Do you remember what I told you about stress?"

While you helped him get up, Steven murmured, "I know it's bad and I shouldn't let it eat me alive, but you know me. Wow! How do you even walk in those?"

As a first step, you showed him how to fall safely. During your presentation, you told him, "Falling is part of the sport, so it's natural to fall. If you fall with the right technique, you won't get injured. When you anticipate needing to fall, bend your knees and squat into a dip position, then fall sideways, leaning forward, and place your hands on your lap. When you fall, roll over onto your hands and knees."

Steven watched and listened, trying to remember everything you said. Maybe Marc could use a bit of the know-how to make their body a bit less bruised after another chance behind the wheel. "Okay, noted. Let's hope I won't need them, but I'll keep them in mind. So... Uhm... Shall we?" Grant asked, taking your hand.

When he took his first step on the ice, you helped stabilize him while holding strongly to his palms. You grabbed his hips as soon as his leg started sliding forward. He soon added a second leg and grabbed your shoulders, holding them rigidly. "Straighten your back, breathe," you instructed.

Following your instructions, Steven nodded, somehow managing to stand straight. "Look at me! I'm still standing."

A lot of praise was given to him and then you instructed him on how to move on ice. "March two steps forward and let your body glide forward slightly. Repeat until you feel comfortable. This is called gliding."

As he complied with your instructions, Steven said quietly to himself, "Two steps... Let your body glide." Upon realizing he wasn't falling on his butt yet, he chuckled. "Look at me! I'm doing it!"

"Congratulations! My good boy!"

Sadly, Steven's happiness lasted only a short while because as soon as you finished your praise, he fell right on his butt.

You couldn't stop giggling, but as soon as you attempted camel spin by spinning one leg and your upper body parallel to the ice - you lost your balance and fell on your ass as well. "Oh, bollocks!"

As Steven struggled to get up slowly, he exclaimed, "Aha?! You see? That's what you get for laughing at me?! I bet it will hurt tomorrow."

After the unfortunate fall, you felt a burning sensation on your tailbone, but your heart was full of joy - Steven was getting the basics in no time and was doing very well for his first time on ice. "It's almost certain to me that the student will surpass the master soon, my dearest love!" You sent Steven the warmest smile while slowly getting up.

A shy smile danced on Steven's lips as the blush crept over his cheeks, turning them red within a blink of an eye. "Oh, love, no, this will never happen, I assure."

Slowly, you glided towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "My love for you will never change, Steven Grant, even if you won't become a figure skater."

Steven tilted his head and took one of his gloves off, tapping your nose gently before saying, "And I love you just as much, Y/N, even if you always select dangerous activities for our spare time."

As the two of you shared a passionate kiss, you gently pushed off Steven, loosened your knees just a bit, glided backwards and slowly started to spin, spreading your arms slowly.

He could only glide forward slowly, just as you taught him while observing you; all of your movements were so gently and weighted, and you were moving lightly like a petal of a rose dancing in the wind.

Steven realized at this exact moment that his love for you was immeasurable.

[catostrofiqu]

Can people give me good fic recommendations for this list of fandoms that will keep growing over time.

(Crossovers are great aswell)

Marvel (Will gain a Separate list for specific characters)

DC (Specifically family based stuff)

Danny Phantom

Doctor Who

Supernatural

Blue exorcist

My Hero Academia

Percy Jackson

Merlin

Bleach

Pokemon (main anime based)

The Imperfects (Netflix)

Bee and Puppycat

Chronicles of Narnia

Rise of the Guardians

Rwby

Tales of Arcadia (Troll hunters, 3below)

Yu-gi-oh (but like the original, season 0 and zexel)

BNA (Netflix)

Tokyo Mew Mew (I'm an anime only unfortunately)

Ultramarine Magmell (Two fics exist and I've read them)

The Marvel Specification list

Spiderman

Moonknight

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Daredevil

I'm adding a fanfics list for Crossovers with fandoms I'm not actually in

Criminal Minds × DC

Merlin × Stargate

NCIS × Danny phantom

Yes this List will grow as I get more fandoms or remember fandoms I'm in

[omegaversetheory]

Poll #3

remember that poll I did last year? Let's do it again! Reblog to boost sample size!

*only using the most popular ships from last year.

[frisbs]

Fic requests anyone?

I can write:

Moon Knight (any characters from the show)

Winter Solider, Bucky Barnes

Platonic or healthy canon relationships

Fluff

The darkest depths of angst

I haven’t done fic requests before but fan fiction was always my first love and I’m trying to refocus on writing that brings me fun rather than the cruel world of literary submissions.

P.S. I’m not going to accept anything I can’t handle sensitively. I am fine writing most stuff but not if it seems to promote unhealthy thinking around it. For followers I will put all content under the cut & tag accordingly.

[donottouchredbutton]

hi just popping in to remind people that i’m not dead (unfortunately) and that i haven’t completely abandoned all of the things i’ve been writing recently, just simply redirected my focus on what i’ve been trying to write. that being said, i’ve got the weirdest werewolf by night/moon knight/the falcon and the winter soldier crossover fic (don’t even lie, you’re trying to make this a series) idea that i’ve been working on that i’m gonna try to start posting soon, so stay tuned!

[itsrainingfeathers]

Is my Marvel phase coming back

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Mythic Phantom

This is a little something I whipped up over a while thinking about merging the DP and Riordanverse universes together, and I thank @geraldmariaivo for helping me think my way through it. If you want the ao3 version you can find it here, and I hope you enjoy the fic!

Most Underworld Gods felt it when Vlad’s current permanent Portal opened, but they all Felt it when Danny’s accident happened. A child’s death throes is hard to ignore after all. Pantheons world wide decided that was America’s problem, and Hel decided it was Persephone’s problem, and Haides felt it would close on its own. No gate to Khaos can stay open for long after all.

When Ember went globally live, Muses and Music Gods and Hypnos heard the way she sang, called out to the mortals to never be forgotten. Danny and Tucker dealt with her swiftly enough that she was remembered, noted even, but disregarded.

When the Fright Knight’s sword was drawn, many Fear Gods turned toward Amity, but Danny dealt with it swiftly. Most regarded it as an anomaly but Phobos and Deimos sent subordinate spirits to investigate the town and report anything interesting.

Hades and Persephone noted the invasion of Ghost Cops and saw that Danny had it handled in only a few days, which they would count as a quest fulfilled. Clearly, Amity Park was a contained issue, and the Master Bolt had gone missing by now so they have other things to deal with. The House of Life have some reservations but agree.

Then Pariah Dark got out, and the Gods scrambled to do something about that. In only a week however, He was dealt with too.  A closer eye was warranted. By everyone, not just the Observants.

Whoever these agents were, be they half-bloods or spirits or even minor gods, most wouldn’t see Young Blood and thus would fear Danny was losing it too. When he calmed down, they’d sigh in relief. The two future Ghost Villains who show up outside of the do-over would raise alarms at how fast ghosts can progress, but hey, it’s handled.

When the Hellenic spies are pulled back home for safety during the winter solstice, pleasantly surprised by Ghost activity dying down at the same time, Artemis and Luna, Khonshu and more felt something wrong happening as the Ghostwriter possessed the moon to speak.

When Duul Amon returned to the land of the living, the House of Life sent agents to the town, and Tucker Foley was immediately offered magic lessons. His is power over stone and steel, glass and gems, as well as an ear for the voices of machines. Between terrakinesis and technopathy, Tucker’s limits with his staff became only what he understood about technology.

Then entire copies of the Ghost Boy (Prince? King?) appear, attacking him, manipulating him for the elder, but he lets her go free after he’s rescued? Truly fascinating. Psychopomps keep an eye on Elle wherever she goes - she’s always very close to melting after all. The titan army also keep an eye on her, a powerful being both like and unlike the Gods, much the same as a Titan, Giant, or Monster.

Then the Reality Gauntlet is found by a mortal man, a rogue Magician, while the boy is busy trying to stop it and save the world, Lydia is keeping House of Life magicians and even Odin’s Ravens from finding Freakshow, so some Camp Jupiter heroes are being sent on a quest to deal with him. Then he gets the fucking gems and turns the world into a circus for 10 minutes.

Before the Boy tricks him, takes the Gauntlet, resets the world to before his identity was revealed to the world, (though perhaps not quite fooling the memories of Gods, who Are the world) and destroying the Gauntlet and gems in a single blast.

An artifact presumed by the Ghost Investigation Ward to be powerful enough to destroy the Infinite Realms, reduced to molten ash by one burst of power.

What to do about the young Phantom is a matter of discussion during the solstice meeting on Olympus.  Hades is sent to investigate the boy and finds that he is a godling of Kaos Themself, which sparks yet further debate on what to do when Artemis goes missing.

But then the Son of Hades stumbled upon Elmerton and witnessed a duel between Gods firsthand.

Danny Phantom faced off against Vortex, the ghost of all weather and sky and storm gods who had faded over the millennia, all on his own.  Even in defeat, Danny stole half of Vortex’s power, and less than a week later, he defeated the calamity that even two pantheons worth of gods could not.

The Titans would be horrible for humanity as a whole, and the Olympians were bad for half bloods as well.  Danny Phantom, however, could be just what most half bloods were after.  He needed training in mortal form, clearly, but that could be an angle for Nico to use.

[happyhauntt]

— april fic recs, brought to you by happyhauntt.

it's that time again! a wee fic rec post for a few of the fics i read in april that altered my brain chemistry!! i've put a lil comment next to each rec because honestly writers don't get praised enough for their work these days and i wanted to show my appreciation for these talented souls!!

criminal minds.

➡ spencer reid.

in every other life by @irndad. notes: adorableness incarnate honestly.

trouble almost all my life series by @januaryembrs. notes: might honestly have to put this on every masterlist til the end of time.

forgiven by @reiding-writing. notes: um HOW DARE YOU i sobbed my way through this

grishaverse.

➡ kaz brekker.

breakfast by @sophierequests. notes: look i'm a simple human i see badass characters and i fall in love

➡ jesper fahey.

i'm your gal by @atlabeth. notes: NOT ENOUGH JESPER FICS and this one is GLORIOUS

star wars.

➡ poe dameron.

the f-word by @the-little-ewok. notes: i reread this constantly pls it's so good

moon knight.

➡ marc spector.

i should've been there by @januaryembrs. notes: not em out here ruining my life and making me sob AGAIN you simply never miss

9-1-1.

➡ evan buckley.

take my hand by @redocity. notes: cute cute cute cute cute

emergency room by redocity. notes: the ANGST i feel well-fed

won't say i'm falling by @borntobewondering. notes: this was DELICIOUS

➡ buck / eddie.

a bleeding sun on a silver screen by @hoediaz / rarakiplin on ao3. notes: i was fully choking back sobs while reading this. i binged this fic in less than 24 hours and it has changed something fundamental inside me. i will never be the same person again. i'm billing you for my therapy.

good luck, babe by @hattalove. notes: i cackled my way through this, potentially the funniest shit ever.

hate to say i spent it all on masquerades by hattalove. notes: i sobbed and sobbed and sobbed while reading this. this fic is everything to me, it should be required reading for all my friends who want to understand me, it is beautiful and magical and i want it tattooed on my face.

don't wanna let you love somebody else but me by @shitouttabuck / fleetinghearts on ao3. notes: sheer adorableness i will well recover from this!!!!

tried and true blue by shitouttabuck / fleetinghearts on ao3. notes: SCREAMING I'M SCREAMING I MAY NEVER STOP SCREAMING

like a dog with a bird at your door by shitouttabuck / fleeting hearts on ao3. notes: iconic. truly iconic. quite possibly one of my fav fics ever written.

let the world have its way with you by shitouttabuck / fleeting hearts on ao3. notes: you don't understand how hard it was not to include every single one of shitouttabuck's fics on this list and there will almost certainly be more in future but i just want them tattooed on my forehead i feel insane

i have dreams where i kiss you and it's pink by shitouttabuck / fleeting hearts on ao3. notes: the cutest and i mean THE CUTEST shit ever

all my shattered oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: i sobbed. i sobbed so hard i think i burst something honestly. everything from this author is immaculate but THIS is the holy fuckin grail and i will truly never be the same again.

let my ink stain your pages by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: castle au CASTLE AU i'm a sucker for a castle au and this is EVERYTHING

even in winter there is eranthis by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: i think about this fic daily.

your love is an oil slick by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: this is everything this is EVERYTHING to me i will reread this weekly for the rest of my life

even the darkest night by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: stardust au STARDUST AU aka my favourite movie and my favourite ship combined into a fuckin masterpiece

curl up in my heart and let me keep you by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels on ao3. notes: soft sweet my brain is mushy and i adore this

hoping it gets to you by @bucktommys / hammersmiths on ao3. notes: cute adorable stunning MAGNIFICENT

you're my whole house by @/bucktommys / hammersmiths on ao3. notes: THIS FIC OUT HERE MAKIN ME SQUEAL AND KICK MY LEGS

left unsaid by c_m2 on ao3. notes: this is mcfuckin adorable i'm crying buck deserves everything in the world

say yes to heaven by dylaesthetics on ao3. notes: okay full disclosure this made me cry so much i threw up. also it hit some pretty intense trauma for me. still so glad i read it because it was also kinda healing. and i want everyone else to suffer like i have because fuck i suffered.

if i need to rearrange my particles, i will for you by dylaesthetics on ao3. notes: author you will always be famous bc you're knocking my emotional stability OUTTA THE PARK

honestly, truly, completely by dylaesthetics on ao3. notes: simply fuckin adorable

feels like magic by 42hrb on ao3. notes: there's nothing i adore more than an urban fantasy au and this one is EXQUISITE

fallin' into your ocean eyes by princessfbi on ao3. notes: okay every part of this au is absolutely fuckin perfection i am so deeply in love with it

until now by tearsthissideofheaven on ao3. notes: a reincarnation au??? it's like you know how to ruin my life

if i never hear your voice again by @actualalligator. notes: disability rep!!!! brilliant writing!!!!

life sure can try to put love through it by @capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: ahahaha ruin my life why don't you

sometimes its hard to see what the future holds by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: olympics buddie au??? didn't know i wanted it but now i can't live without it

all good things come to an end (but it's not the end) by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: i will, in fact, devour every buddie!fwb au ever written but this one is especially great

you smiled and it was the most beautiful thing that I'd ever seen by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: coffee shop!buddie have become everything to me wdym

it's funny 'cause i've always dreamed of me and you by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: yes i did sob my heart out reading this and i'll do it again

'cause darling, you're the one by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: icymi i think this author is the best author to ever exist and i want to devour everything they write forever

i don't think that we should have friendly sex, anymore by @/capseycartwright / wafflesofdoom on ao3. notes: !!!!!!! that's it that's the note. brain: faye you can't put this many fics by the same author on one masterlist. faye: bET-

still i call it magic (when i'm next to you) by @clusterbuck / lecornergirl on ao3. notes: urban fantasy is, in fact, my shit.

(this kiss is) something i can't resist by @/clusterbuck / lecornergirl on ao3. notes: NO BC THIS HAD ME CACKLING AND ALSO IT'S BRILLIANT

give me five more minutes, baby (i'm not finished loving you) by @/clusterbuck / lecornergirl on ao3. notes: fake dating or immaculate writing??? both

cuffing season by @/clusterbuck / lecornergirl on ao3. notes: i am still laughing at this and i may never stop

[lilydalexf]

🌲👽 X-Files Survival/Wilderness Fic Recs

Here are some very good X-Files survival or wilderness fics. Because @thatsaprettycoolposter and @pookie-mulder asked! This list does not include post-colonization fics, which are also all survival fics of a sort. Enjoy!

Alligator Moon by jordan big monster in swamp attacks FBI agents

Antidote by Rachel Howard and Karen Rasch Strange doings in a tiny western town bring Mulder and Scully out to investigate. Once there, they uncover a deadly experiment that may cost both of them their lives.

Backtracking by Kel and Scetti What do Charlie Scully, the Alien Bounty Hunter, and Jesse "the Body" Ventura all have in common? Last April you could have found all three of them in Minnesota.

By the Wind Grieved by Karen Rasch Months have passed and Mulder is back. But things are not as they once were. He doesn’t know who he is or what Scully and he are to each other. Together they must reclaim the past before their enemies take away their future.

A Cabin in the Woods by @leiascully Mulder and Scully, on the run, stay for a while in a cabin in the mountains in Montana. A series of interlacing vignettes.

a cabin in the woods by @monikafilefan Being stuck in this rustic cabin, clearly left to age among the wilderness had Scully feeling wild herself, and it felt as if their bodies danced to an ancient song among the elements.

Camping by Amperage and Livengoo Fox Mulder and Dana Scully have survived abductions, serial killers, mutants and aliens but the Partner Cooperation Program Wilderness Encounter may finally do them in. After poison ivy and catfish, who wouldn’t long for a nice, safe killer mutant?

A Change of Seasons by Jo-Ann Lassiter A search for a mythical beast in the woods of Pennsylvania takes an alarming turn for the worse when Mulder's minor in ury escalates into a life-threatening disease.

Changing Tides by QofMush Who says change is all bad?

Circumnavigation by Suzanne Schramm Sometimes you don't know where you're going until you get there.

Coming Back by Karen Rasch Mulder gets a call from Mrs. Scully, who fears for Dana's safety. Following her instructions, he tracks his partner to a cabin in the mountains where he finds that she does indeed need his help. Memories of her time away have come back with a vengeance. (Sequel: The Calm After The Storm)

Dark Water by Suzanne Schramm Prehistoric insects. Mothmen. Now it’s a publicity-shy tribe of murderers. Just another nice trip to the forest with Mulder.

Falling Snow by Snark Mulder, Scully and a mysterious woman from Mulder's past crash in the snowy landscape of the Colorado winter.

Frozen by @dashakay The end of a case, and a stay in a log cabin during a blizzard, lead Scully to take the biggest risk of her life.

Last Chance Falls by @slippinmickeys A man. A women. A forest. A hit squad. An adventure.

The Lost by Wintersong Mulder and Scully are trapped in the remote wilderness and the art of surviving was not what they expected.

Old Growth Forest by Andrea Mulder and Scully investigate the disappearances of homeless people in Madison, Wisconsin and seemingly end up suffering the same fate.

A Path of Salt by Analise Mulder ditches Scully yet again to help an old friend in the Park Service. But Scully has never been one to sit and wait.

Tam Lin by Pequod When your local young men disappear, only to turn up dead a year later, sometimes it helps to have friends in high places. Myth and murder combine in a remote Scottish village, and Mulder and Scully investigate. The Fairy Queen is out to revenge the loss of her most prized knight, Tam Lin. Mulder believes but Scully’s not so sure, until Mulder takes a walk in the woods.

Tempest by Missy Pennington Mulder and Scully survive a plane crash to find themselves injured and stranded in the Appalachian wilderness. (Sequels: Distance, Wild Places, and Escape Me Never)

Untitled by @o6666666 Prompt: Mulder takes Scully camping and they make love for the second time ever under the stars.

Waiting in Motion by mountainphile After leaving the hot spring (in "Miraculous Manifestation"), Scully and Mulder take an unexpected detour on the way home. Dark secrets emerge when they seek shelter in a raging storm...and an intriguing X-file rears its head... (Sequel: Signs of Life)

Way Through the Woods by Pellinor and Rebecca Rusnak Three months ago, someone noticed something unusual about Scully. Now, in a desperate attempt to stave off the inevitable, Mulder has disappeared, and Scully’s only chance of finding him include an unlikely ally and an untrustworthy informant. As they make their way through the woods, can Mulder and Scully find each other, or is the future lost?

[wintersoldierslover]

my fic recs masterlist

---

Bucky Barnes:

all bucky barnes

headcanon  -  blurb  -  one-shot  -  series - two-parter

40s  -  The Winter Soldier  -  Avenger  -  TFATWS

dbf!bucky  -  brother’s bff  -  bff’s brother

neighbour  -  housewife reader

lumberjack  -  firefighter  -  bodyguard

priest bucky  -  college

football player  -  hockey player  -  boxer

professor  -  teacher  -  librarian/bookshop

coffee shop  -  soulmate  -  royal

other AUs  -  taboo

moodboard  -  deactivated:(

---

Stranger Things characters:

all eddie munson  -  all steve harrington

eddie and steve (x reader)

billy hargrove  -  jason carver  -  mike wheeler

dmitri enzo antonov  -  jim hopper

robin buckley  -  nancy wheeler

---

Outer Banks Characters:

all Rafe Cameron

all JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron and JJ Maybank (x reader)

Pope Heyward  -  Topper Thorton

John B.  -  Sarah Cameron

Kiara Carrera

---

Marvel characters:

Wanda Maximoff  -  Kate Bishop

Natasha Romanoff  -  Yelena Belova

Peter Parker  -  Pietro Maximoff

Steve Rogers  -  Stephen Strange

Frank Castle  -  Matt Murdock 

Moon knight  -  Steven Grant

Joaqín Torres - Clint Barton

Loki Laufeyson  -  Druig

Eddie Brock  -  Miles Morales

Miguel O’hara  -  Hobie Brown

---

Harry Potter characters:

Sirius Black  -  Remus Lupin 

James Potter  -  Poly!Marauders

Lily potter  -  Cedric Diggory

George Weasley  -  Fred Weasley

Severus Snape  -  Tom Riddle

Draco Malfoy

---

Avatar (James Cameron) charachters:

neteyam  -  aonung  -  lo’ak

rotxo  -  kiri  -  spider

jake sully  -  neytiri  -  tsu’tey

tonowari  -  ronal  -  colonel quaritch

---

Top Gun chracters:

Fanboy  -  Hangman  -  Rooster  -  Bob

Iceman

---

Wednesday characters:

Xavier Thorpe  -  Ajax Petropolus

Wednesday Addams  -  Divina

---

Bridgerton characters:

Anthony Bridgerton  -  Benedict Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton

---

Criminal Minds characters:

Spencer Reid  -  Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

---

The Last of Us characters:

Joel Miller  -  Ellie Williams

Abby Anderson

---

The Devil All The Time characters:

Tommy Matson  -  Lee Bodecker

---

Uncharted characters:

Nate Drake  -  Sam Drake

---

Euphoria characters:

Elliot (Euphoria)  -  Fezco

---

On My Block characters:

Mario Martinez  -  Oscar Diaz

---

Modern Family characters:

Luke Dunphy  -  Alex Dunphy

---

Ted Lasso:

Roy Kent  -  Jamie Tartt

---

NHL players:

Matthew Ktachuk  -  Trevor Zegras

Nolan Patrick  -  Tyler Seguin

---

Actors:

Sebastian Stan  -  Joseph Quinn

Jamie Campbell Bower  -  Danny Ramirez

Drew Starkey  -  Rudy Pankow

Ben Hardy  -  Bella Ramsey

Jenna Ortega

---

Miscellaneous characters:

Eli ‘Hawk’ Moskowitz  -  Marcus Baker

Rodrick Heffley  -  Hunter Sylvester

Lloyd Hansen  -  Ari Levinson

Nick Fowler  -  Tangerine

Rhett Abbott  -  Hayden ‘Harvard Hottie’

Colin (Not Okay)  -  Min Ho (Xo, Kitty)

Ash (No Exit)  -  James Maguire (Derry Girls)

Jake Peralta  -  Nick Miller  -  Brian O’conner

Anakin Skywalker  -  Bruno Madrigal

Tadashi Hamada  -  Kakashi Hatake

---

Miscellaneous real people:

Billie Eilish  -  AEW Hook

---

*Updated whenever there’s a new character <3

[ivystoryweaver]

Spectre

A Moon Knight Halloween Love Story

Event #2: It Comes At Night

prev next | Fic Masterlist | My Masterlist | next

Event #2 Summary: A day in the life of Marc...without you. And a night...with you?

Pairing this chapter: Marc Spector x f!reader (alters are mentioned)

Word count: 3.1k

Content: angst (more below the cut)

Warnings: coping with death, grieving, loneliness, fear, longing, language, anxiety, mental health concerns, self-esteem probs (I mean, it's Marc), mentions of food, mentions of therapy, contemplation of DID, graveyard, not beta'd

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PREVIOUSLY on "Spectre"...

The bedside lamp flickered eerily as you repeated your partner's name.

"Marc?"

It dimmed again, slower this time and then suddenly, went dark.

"Shit," Marc hissed, his chest rapidly rising and falling as he scrambled to find his phone.

He knocked into the bedside table with a thump, wincing in pain as his fingers finally found the device. Frantically touching the screen, he activated the flashlight and whirled around

... to no one.

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Event #2: It Comes At Night

There was no more sleep for Marc that night.

Steven and Jake seemed oblivious to the...visitation incident. Or hallucination, perhaps. Marc felt reluctant to clue them in at this point. They had enough struggles as it was, mentally speaking. Marc didn't want to deliver anything in the form of potentially bad news until he knew more.

He had always considered himself a loose cannon in the system anyway. A sort of weakest link. Steven was smart, inquisitive, mindful of the body's needs. Jake was the protector. Steadfast.

Marc didn't want to rock the boat right now. Maybe he was dreaming last night. How many beers did he have? Only one, right?

No matter. He was up early, shuffling through the streets of town to the old Green Lawn cemetery. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd visited your grave.

But on this chilly October morning, he needed to ground himself. Reality was his ally.

The macabre decor of neighboring houses didn't loom so ominously in daylight. For that, he was grateful. Still, it was a bit ironic that pretend headstones had made his stomach churn, and here he was, pulling open the heavy iron gate guarding actual headstones.

The hulking old metal groaned out a warning, as if reminding all who entered that its looming density separated the world of the living and the dead.

Marc scurried along the familiar path, down the cemetery's manicured walkway - the kempt grounds attempting to welcome the reluctant living.

Down the center path, past the old poplar tree, leaves painted golden before winter stripped the branches bare. A right turn, over three rows and one more walkway over.

To you.

Heavy fog kissed the earth where you lay resting. Gathering his courage, he trudged the remaining distance to your name. If he only had a little more time with you, maybe that would be his last name there, listed after yours. If you wanted to marry him at all, or even take his name. Fine if you didn't - but still -the possibilities haunted him.

"Hey baby," he softly greeted, sinking his hands protectively into the pockets of his soft leather jacket. "Miss you a lot today. Always do."

A gust of wind sent a flurry of golden brown leaves dancing around your headstone.

"Thought I saw you last night," he continued, hoping a trip here would calm his imagination. "I know it wasn't really you, but...you were sitting on the bed wearing that hoodie you love? You know, the-the one Jake thinks is his, but it's actually mine..."

He darkly chuckled, remembering how cute you looked in that old thing.

"Anyway...I hope...I hope you're resting. I hope you're happy. That's all I want, babe. I just want you to have peace..." His voice trailed off as fresh tears slid down his cheeks. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat. "I miss you."

Pressing a kiss to his fingertips, he traced the shape of your first name. "Love you."

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Marc continued his morning walk from Green Lawn to historic downtown, where he and Steven worked. This was a small town, and everyone was...or had been proud of their small town author - you. By proxy, they loved and accepted your boyfriend Marc. And Steven and Jake.

Yes, most of the people you had known were aware that you lived with a system, and learned to treat them accordingly.

Marc had a part time job at the hardware store. Steven worked at the library. Jake was a driver, but that took place mostly at night, in the city, or at least to and from the city, which sat about 95 miles to the northeast.

The system stuck to a decently regular schedule, but who was fronting wasn't always so simple. Their employers understood this, and took it into account. Sometimes, Marc worked Steven's library shift, and sometimes Steven worked at the hardware store. Didn't make for as enjoyable of a work day, but they had both learned to deal.

Jake worked for himself, so if he didn't want to drive one night, or if he was exhausted, or busy with Khonshu (or you), he simply didn't drive.

Before he arrived at work, Marc stopped at Triple B's - his favorite breakfast spot, famous for their breakfast burritos. (Hence the name Barney's Breakfast Burritos, or...Triple B's). After weeks of avoiding the townspeople, Marc reluctantly made it a point to interact, at the insistence of both Steven and his therapist.

It's also what you would have wanted. And, if he was honest, as much as he tended to withdraw into himself, he knew he would ultimately feel better with at least a little human interaction. After last night, he kind of didn't want to be alone.

"Spectorrrr, what's up?" Barney, the Triple B's owner called out as Marc pushed open the glass door, ringing a little bell as he did.

"Hey, B," Marc called, over the small crowd of customers gathered to place an order - most of them hyped for some sort of overly sugared fall drink like pumpkin spice something or maple whatever.

Despite Marc being about seven customers deep in line, Barney gave him a quick wave. "Usual?"

"Uh, yeah, thanks," Marc replied.

Barney nodded his head to the side, indicating that Marc should skip the line and ring out his order on the side register. Marc didn't like attention - he didn't want to make anyone else waiting upset, but Barney had a strong personality and he was wonderful to all his customers. He was too charming for anyone to actually get truly mad.

Shouldering his way around the line, Marc made it to the far end of the counter, meeting Barney there.

"You're early," Barney commented, noticing the dark circles under Marc's eyes. Dark circles were part of Marc's look -always had been, but they were deeper today. "You sleep okay?"

"Nope," Marc confessed. Easier to tell Barn the truth. "Tried though. Went to see her this morning."

"Gotcha," Barney nodded, ringing up Marc's typical order of one breakfast burrito all the way, and black coffee. If it was Steven, then the burrito would be vegan and the black coffee would be tea with non-dairy milk. Jake was a rare customer, but he was café au lait and a giant plate of hash browns. Sometimes eggs.

Your order had been the same as Marc's, almost always. Sometimes you liked something sweet to drink.

Marc reached for his cash but Barney refused. "On the house, Mr. Spector."

"No, no, you can't do that," Marc insisted. "I'm gonna put you out of business if you keep on giving me food."

Barney stubbornly folded his big arms over his round tummy. "I knew your girl since she was twelve-years-old. Miss her all the time. Can't even imagine how it is for you boys. A burrito and coffee's the least I can do."

Marc's order was up, so Barney handed him a brown paper bag and a similarly drab disposable paper cup with a lid. "You go on and have a nice day, and get some rest tonight, all right?"

Well damn. Marc had tears in his eyes for about the fifth time in as many hours.

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Marc chomped through his breakfast by the time he meandered two blocks down to the hardware store. Work was uneventful, which was a blessing today. He needed this - a day to be left alone and work with his hands. Between his free breakfast, some encouragement from Barney and a low-key day on the job, he left that evening feeling marginally better.

It had even helped him to stop by and see you. He missed you so badly he could hardly breathe sometimes, but it somehow helped him to really accept you were gone and imagine you were at peace.

He passed by the library, remembering Steven had a shift tomorrow. Hopefully his alter would be up and about, so to speak, because Marc wasn't in the mood to shelve books.

Next he passed the florist. Mrs. Alraune paused her task of sweeping off her shop's front stoop to give Marc a little wave.

A few more doors down, he saw a shop he'd never noticed before. Must be new for Halloween.

A simple, hand painted sign swung over the doorway. It read, "Mystic Delights and Other Charming Novelties". What and odd name for a shop. Marc almost smiled to himself because this is exactly the type of shop you would love to venture into while walking through town. Still...he decided against it since the sun had set and he wanted to get home.

No need to spoil his sort-of-okay day.

His hands found their home in his jacket pockets and his head dropped - his typical hurry-through-town posture.

But the "Mystic Delights and Other Charming Novelties" shop was not to be ignored this October evening.

Twinkling lights lined the shop's windows. They flickered ominously as Marc approached.

"Lovely evening," an elderly female voice intoned, seeming to appear in the shop's doorway in an instant.

Marc's pacing paused. Pressing his lips into a thin-lined smile, he nodded, ready to carry on.

"Won't you come inside before it's too late?" The old woman inquired, kind eyes nearly hidden by wrinkles. She gestured with her hand at the shop's window, adorned with antique treasures. Perhaps this was a new antique store.

"Uhh, sorry, I have to get home," Marc halfway fibbed. "Goodnight."

She nodded understandingly. "Safe journey to all who protect the travelers of the night."

That phrase gave him pause...protector of the travelers of the night...

His eyes narrowed as he glanced back her way. "Uh...thanks."

With that, he headed home.

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He passed by Mrs. Nockles' house without an invitation inside. He avoided the run down old spooky house and even managed to ignore the house with the fake headstones.

This brought him to your front yard. Well...his front yard now. The thought of owning this home by himself reminded him why he was considering leaving this town.

His eyes traced a path up the front walk to the whitewashed steps of the front porch. You had only just repainted the front door last spring. Most of the houses in the neighborhood were nearly a century old, and painted bright, artsy colors. Marc remembered the playful argument as to whether the front door would be painted periwinkle blue (his choice) or cornflower blue (your choice). You won, of course.

He couldn't really see the door right now because it was dark, and because he forgot to turn on the front porch light before he left. Even in the dark, he could only imagine how your flower bed had overgrown with weeds during the summer. Fall would give way to winter and the whole damn thing would probably shrivel up and die.

Pretty typical. Marc felt like a bit of a curse to everything he touched.

Blowing out a breath, he bounced on his toes. "I'm sorry, babe. I'm off day after tomorrow and I'll get out here and...I'll try for you, okay? Promise."

'Packed up her garden tools. I'll get 'em out tomorrow night.'

Jake.

The system must be feeling feelings because Jake hardly said anything.

"Thank you," Marc voiced aloud.

'Course. Knew you would go looking for 'em when you were ready. I can help if you want. Probably shit at it but we can let her whole damn garden die, can we?'

Marc laughed out. It was a strange, almost bitter sound. As if he could stop anything bad from happening ever. Kind of Jake to offer though.

Probably enough time lurking around in his front yard. With a heavy sigh, Marc gave the bungalow a final once over when something strange caught his eye. Up in the highest window appeared a figure - a woman.

Your bungalow was small, but a master bedroom had been added about twenty-five years ago on a partial upper story. It was about all that was upstairs aside from a small hallway, master bath, and a tiny loft you spent your days writing in, when you weren't sitting on the porch or the back deck.

Marc squeezed his eyes shut and then rubbed them in a cartoonish manner to make sure he wasn't imagining something else that wasn't really there.

But sure enough, when he looked again, he could clearly see a woman - about your size.

It couldn't be.

"Wait," he whispered, dashing up the whitewashed steps even faster than the night before when he was panicking.

"Wait!" He called louder, jamming his key into the deadbolt. It seemed to take forever, but finally, he made it inside, not bothering to shut or lock the front door behind him as he bolted toward the stairs.

He sprinted upward so fast that he almost tripped over his boots, bursting into your bedroom...which was empty.

"Damn it!" He cried, tossing his keys aside and pushing his hands through his hair in frustration. Maybe he really was losing his mind. Or maybe he just wanted to see you again so badly.

With a huff, he scoped up his keys - he had to put them in the kitchen or Steven would never find them in the morning. Stumbling back downstairs, he shut and locked the front door, did put the keys on the counter and grabbed a glass of water.

He should probably eat but all he wanted to do was shower and go to bed. The nice day he'd attempted to construct for himself had been obliterated by his stupid brain playing spooky tricks on him.

Ridiculous.

After a quick shower, Marc wrapped a towel around his hips and trudged back into the bedroom.

He half expected you or some sort of spectre to be waiting for him on the end of his bed. But there was no one, which was an oddly painful relief.

Maybe time for a drink. Of course Steven would insist that food accompany any alcohol. So Marc found some black joggers and pulled them over his hips, tossing aside his towel.

His nightly ritual was beginning to look depressingly mundane and overly repetitive. He had a glass of whiskey tonight instead of a beer, and made himself a sandwich. After watching some more postseason Major League Baseball, Marc went to bed.

And stared at the ceiling. He wanted to be tired. He just wasn't.

He needed a friend. Or a pet? Steven liked fish. Jake liked cats. Marc wasn't sure what he liked. Hmm.

He tossed and turned, willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room.

Just when his eyelids grew heavy, he heard the faintest whisper.

His eyes snapped right back open.

It happened again - an indistinguishable whisper - something almost mumbled, but so softly.

Whatever he was hearing became obscured by the harsh, shallow breaths he was now taking. He squinted his eyes as if it would help him distinguish the darkened room from the pitch black corner, from which the sound emanated.

Slowly, a figure emerged from the blackness.

Marc sat up in bed, staring as he leaned forward, certain he couldn't actually be seeing someone in his room.

The whisper sounded again as the dark figure seemed to float closer.

Marc had dealt with the vilest of criminals in his lifetime. The worst of the worst. He wasn't afraid of anyone.

But he was afraid now. And paralyzed, somehow.

The figure inched closer to the bed.

Marc's skin prickled with heat, even as a wave of chills swept over his bare chest and arms. Breaths quickened to shallow pants as the figure hovered dangerously near.

"It's...too late," the figure murmured, as faint as a breeze.

Heart thundering in his chest, Marc tried to move - to reach for a light, or his phone, or ask for Jake or Khonshu or something...but found himself completely paralyzed.

"W-who...what are you?" He finally gasped, shrinking backwards toward the headboard of his bed, physically unable to do anything more productive.

Then...he could have sworn he heard your voice.

"Marc."

Suddenly, he could move. He bolted off the opposite side of the bed and reached for the light, switching it on.

No one was there.

"Fuck..."

Hot tears pricked his eyes as his fingers tore through his dark curls. "What the fuck is happening to me?"

His alters were strangely absent. They were often a bit one-at-a-time with the body, but couldn't they hear you?

Even the lamplight spilling into the room left a few darkened corners. Marc grabbed his phone, switching on his flashlight. He swept the room, searching every corner, behind the curtains, in the closet, under the bed, and finally the master bathroom.

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he wondered if Steven would notice his distress. Shaking his head in frustration, he switched off his flashlight and splashed his face with water. He probably wouldn't be able to sleep again. Hopefully Jake would need the body. If not, Marc was considering smashing his fists into something himself. Or someone.

He was wired and frantic and so fucking sad. And scared. What if he really was losing it? It was one thing to grow up thinking he was fucked up, but now, his problems were Steven and Jake's. How could he tell them he was hallucinating?

Maybe...maybe this was another alter? He didn't know. He finally grabbed his phone and walked back into the bedroom.

You were there. In the same hoodie. On the edge of the bed.

"Shit!" He hissed, jerking back in surprise.

You actually flinched, rising from your seated position and easing backward toward the window.

"No, no, wait, don't go!" Marc urgently pleaded, holding out his hand to try to get you to stop.

Your face was somewhat obscured by the hood pulled over your hair, but it had to be you. It was you.

"Sweetheart, It's okay. Don't go. Don't go," he begged, easing carefully toward you.

You backed so far away from him that you almost blended in with the curtain. He was sure you were about to Jacob Marley right out the window.

The lamp flickered again, just as it had done the previous night. Then went black. Marc rushed blindly toward the window, yanking open the curtain. Moonlight spilled into the bedroom, granting him the slightest ability to see.

"It's not too late," the whisper echoed, right beside his ear...but you were nowhere to be seen.

next

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I tagged everyone in the first update and masterlist, but since this fic does eventually venture into nsfw, I'm now doing the tag list for that specifically. (The general NSFW list and the Moon Knight NSFW list.) If you want to be tagged for this story, just holler!

Join the tag list (or tell me your tagging preferences by fandom and NSFW/SFW)

@deputy-videogamer @toecurlingstories @zephyrixx @juleshadalittlelamb @tsukkie-daisuke

@pockcock @minigirl87 @uncle-eggy@cookielovesbook-akie @wyldeflwr

@animechick555 @tiffanypooh @thexsanctuaryx @majestic-jazmin @rosecentaur1916

@deezisnotreal @serren-diamandis @alexxavicry @onefinnedwonder-fm @spidey-3

@stevengmybeloved @just3rowsing @howellatme

@i-still-dont-like-your-face @wordacadabra @lilacspider @imonmykneessir @saints-and-sinners

@steven-grants-world @thewinterv @aquaarietes @suddenlysteven @ohantonia

@whatthefishh @sammi-doll483 @silvernight-m

[lya-dustin]

Vengeance is mine

A preview for the pirate!Aemond fic inspired by the 2007 mexican telenovela Pasión for @maidmerrymint

He is not the boy he was four years ago.

Aemond had lost control of Vhagar, and she had eaten Lucerys Velaryon over Shipwreck Bay and began the bloodiest war since the Conquest. In the ensuing chaos Aegon and their grandsire were killed by Daemon’s assassins and Aemond banished from Westeros on the penalty of death.

It was only because of you that he was spared his life.

Vhagar had not survived long after Aemond the Kinslayer proved his mettle as a mercenary and led him to be forced into joining a pirate’s crew to survive. Now he returned to Westeros as the Valyrian, the pirate Captain of Alicent's Sorrows.

His mother blames you for their misfortunes most of all.

Had you not existed Ormund Hightower wouldn’t have betrayed them, had you not existed he would have Vhagar and burn down her enemies to something lower than ash and Aegon would still be alive as King. You had no child from Lyonel Hightower even as his stepmother whelped bastard after bastard, mother claims you have poisoned your own womb to ensure Jacaerys became king.

Alicent’s anger had turned to madness from the grief, he had seen. Though he could not blame his mother for losing her sanity after seeing her father and son’s heads be paraded about the city with her in chains of gold behind them.

She was dying, Helaena had written days ago.

Winter Fever had swept into Westeros and just when it seemed to have died down, Mother had contracted it from her Septas in the motherhouse by the sea she has been locked in since Aegon’s reign fell before its six-moon mark.

Aemond knows it is a death sentence for him to see her, but he just needed to see her. just once more to say goodbye.

And he does, the Matron of the motherhouse smuggles him in as Osferthe a dragonseed turned septon in case anyone catches a glimpse of his silvery hair.

“My son! my sweet boy, have you come to me at last?” His mother is drenched in sweat, skin flushed with fever and despite the ice in her bath, she is hot as dragonsbreath.

“Yes, mother, I have come to see you. You are on your fourth day and all will be well again,” he swallows back the grief of knowing she will not live to see the dusk turn to day outside of her window.

She is kept as a lady of her status; Rhaenyra had not been the tyrant he had been told she’d be after Luke took his eye. She is wary of them but has not handed them to the executioners or the confessors.

Helaena is happy with her husband who dotes on her three children as if they were his and has a daughter, little Daenaera, who their mother has gone as far as to call a bastard. Daeron, their brother, had wed Rhaena of Pentos after being knighted by Rhaenyra a king would have done. They had fared well, better than him in any case.

“My sweet boy, do not lie to me. I know it won’t be long before I join my mother and father and your sweet brother in the seven heavens.” She tries to reach out to touch him beyond the thin curtain of her bed, but she is too ill to even lift her bone thin arm. She had taken to fasting until he came home once and for all, it was why the illness had become fatal to her. “I want you to promise me something so I may rest easy, my love.”

“Anything you ask I will do, mother.” Against the Septa’s warnings he moves aside the curtain and takes her hands, not caring he would sicken and die as she will.

“I want you to ruin her. I want you to avenge us against her no matter how it is done. For me, for your brother.” She whispers her last request just as her body is wracked by a seizure.

“I promise you I will not rest until it is done.” Aemond the Kinslayer vows as his mother’s convulsions end the Queen in Chains.

[thelarriefics]

SECRET RELATIONSHIP FIC REC, Part II: Below you will find more fics where Harry and Louis hide their relationship. (Part I)

📖 i found love in you (and i learned to love me too) by @larrydoinglaundry (167k)

After months of battling with his own demons, Louis goes back to get what he once left behind, but Harry's not sure if he showed up in time. A journey of remorse, healing and love that's strong enough to break them down and build them back up again. Sequel to 'love is a word, you gave it a name'.

📖 blue moon by @aquietlarrie (152k)

or the self indulgent 50’s au where i wanted a safe space to explore the culture, history, and sexuality of being gay in a time when it was extremely difficult to do so. includes, lots of questionable dancing, healing your inner child, and one heck of an emotional ride.

📖 Behind closed doors (I got myself in a mess) by @teamlouis2023 (58k)

Louis, a renowned wedding planner, has everything he needs to be happy : loyal friends, a boss that is a little more than just a boss, a job that he loves with all his heart. Tasked with the planning of Gemma and Michal's wedding, he doesn't except to come across the man who had left him five years earlier

📖 Us Against the World by @chelsea-frew (58k)

It's time for the 58th Hunger Games. 18-year-old Louis, the victor of the 56th Hunger Games, is to be mentor to the latest tributes from District 4. It is the worst job in the world. Making it even worse is that one of those tributes is 16-year-old Harry, Louis' secret boyfriend. The stakes are life and death. Can Harry do what needs to be done to emerge as the victor? Can Louis help him from the outside? Against all odds, can these two be brought back together—or will Louis be saying goodbye to Harry forever?

📖 Train Tracks and Porcelain by @jaerie (41k)

The next moments happened in the strange slow motion of dawn. Shadows were forming into people and things and, there in the middle of it, Louis watched the humongous head of an elephant emerge from a box car right in front of his eyes. Or a Water For Elephants inspired AU

📖 Lover Boy by @brightgolden (27k)

Where Louis wants to tell everyone about his relationship with Harry, but his boyfriend clearly thinks otherwise.

📖 Unraveled by @allwaswell16 (18k)

Whilst Harry was prepared to protect the PM with his life, he wasn’t prepared for Louis’ secrets. As Harry helped investigate the attempts on Louis’ life, he found a tangled web of political rivals, possible terrorist attacks, and family secrets as well as an undeniable attraction to the man he has vowed to protect.

📖 Everything's going to be alright - Sixth Form AU by @boufantgirl (17k)

Louis is in sixth form with Harry Styles. A classic story about sixth form, love and coming out. There is some drugs and alcohol use. There are some adult themes. The people in this story are 18. A story about the end of school before going to university.

📖 On Thin Ice by @neondiamond (16k)

As the goaltender for one of the best hockey teams in the world, Harry never expected participating in his second winter Olympics would be so eventful. His hidden long-term relationship with the captain of their biggest rival team may have something to do with it.

📖 getting yourself wet for me by @dreamersdivin-headfirst (10k)

frat boys take on watersports

📖 Curves of your lips rewrite history by @lunarheslwt (8k)

everyone bows to Prince Harry, but in the privacy of his four walls, the one he is bowing and kneeling for is his knight, Sir Louis.

📖 The President and His Captain by @tommokat (5k)

Childhood best friends turn boyfriends Harry and Louis have kept their relationship quiet for almost a year now, so when Harry's basketball coach enforces a no dating rule for the season, they should have no problem sticking to that rule. Right?

📖 Battle Of The Balls by @greenblueish (5k)

the one where YouTubers Harry and Louis play Golf With Friends, go to the pub with Niall and return home six hours after posting the video.

📖 tongue-tied by @liberty-barnes (3k)

the one where OT9 participate in a game of Family Feud, and they really should have listened to Liam when he said this was a bad idea

📖 there are rumors we have to face by @louisandtheaquarian (2k)

In this scene, Harry and Louis are sneaking around in earnest while at the wedding of friends, Zarry's stunt is getting old, and rumors fly.

📖 every night with us (is like a dream) by @darkinfinity (2k)

A look into the life of a professional football player dating a physical therapist.

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝, 𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝

The night from hell had only begun when you started seeing a shadow observing you; appearing in the corner of your vision as you partied and rounded up the stragglers to herd them out the door. You didn’t know that what lay ahead was a nightmare dreamed up from the depths of your worst fears, nor did you know that the night would be stained red by the hands of someone you couldn’t even fathom could stalk the earth.  You weren’t sure what would be better — becoming one of the fallen that painted the walls red to escape what awaited you, or rolling over and baring your throat in a plea for mercy.  There were no Gods to save you, nor knights in shining armour — if you were going to make it out alive, you would for damn sure have to fight for it.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Serial Killer!Winter Soldier x F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 5.1k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — Angst, DARK THEMES, DEAD DOVE, degradation and humiliation, depersonalisation, stalking/predatory behaviour, graphic depiction of background/side character death, gore and violence, panic attacks, physical violence and threats, coercion, choking, gagging/use of restraints, implied stockholm syndrome, ambiguous ending

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 — Y'all can thank the pictures circulating of Seb as Ghostface for this. — There are TWO acts in this fic: the first encompasses Terrorised and Bloodied, the second is full of the theme of Alone and Dead.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒓 — I have never seen Scream - the final idea for this happened in a dream of mine, so any similarities are entirely unintentional.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 — HERE

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒂 — @duckybarnes1917

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 — @rookthorne's Fright Night — Masterlist — @sebastianstanbingo 𝗕𝟯 — Serial Killer — Masterlist — @anyfandomdarkbingo 𝗚𝟰 — "You're a monster!" — Masterlist — @halloweenhorrorbingo One Night Murder Spree — Masterlist

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Trick or treaters had flocked to your best friend’s door for hours on end, each small child and teenager as impressive with their costumes as the last. 

The moon was high in the sky at this point, and you were growing tired every passing minute while your friends continued to carry on with their partying – loud and reckless, as always. 

Alcohol had been sloshed all over the floor and food was scattered over counters and benches. “You’d think they would clean up after themselves,” you grumbled, staring at the mess that once resembled a kitchen. “But no. Of course not.”

They carried on, hollering and whooping as they downed shots like hangovers weren’t a thing. One of them choked on a mouthful and sprayed it all over their plus one, making you wince in sympathy. 

“Seriously, man!” he yelled over the music, and he stormed towards the kitchen, when he spotted you watching from the doorway. “Where’s the–”

“Upstairs, second door on the left,” you said quickly, pointing up the staircase. “Help yourself to towels.” He stomped off up the stairs without another word, leaving his friends behind. You caught your best friend’s gaze in the crowd and rolled your eyes. 

The music pounded through the walls and floor of the two storey home; windows rattled with the deep bass and the very foundations seemed to be trembling with the sheer amount of people partying in the common areas. 

You walked through the crowds to get closer to your best friend when the hairs on the nape of your neck stood on end, and the unmistakable feeling of being watched overtook every last one of your senses. As your heart raced and the music dulled to background noise, you looked around the room for the source of unease, when your gaze landed on a figure outside. They were standing right next to the window. 

“What the-” You blinked, desperate to clear your vision or see if it was a figment of your lack of sleep, and the figure was gone, vanished. “It was only a tree, or something,” you muttered tiredly, and you rubbed your eyes. 

The memory of always seeing a shadowy figure through the windows of your own home and out of the corner of your eyes flashed to the forefront of your mind, but you pushed them away – it wasn’t possible that they were connected, you were just tired, you reasoned. 

Just as you reached your best friend, there was a loud pounding on the front door. 

“Police,” a deep voice called, muffled by the barrier. You looked to your friend and then hurried to the door, opening it to find a lone officer in uniform, his badge shining from the light that flooded the entry. “Evening, ma’am.” He tipped his hat and looked around the entryway of the home. “Is this your residence?”

You blinked and then shook your head. The officer had striking blue eyes, and under his hat was straw blonde hair – he was handsome, too. “No, sir.”

The badge on his chest was one of a Captain and with the inscription of ‘S. Rogers’ you assumed he was a high ranking, decorated officer. That was why he was looking at the entryway, you thought. 

It was then his eyes landed on the security panel, and they narrowed. Something stirred in your gut at the action. He opened his mouth to speak, “We’ve had some noise complaints. It would be best if you wrapped this up and made the owner of the residence aware.”

“Okay,” you said simply, watching his face as he nodded once. “We’ll wrap up. Have a nice evening, officer.”

He tipped his hat in farewell and walked back down the path to his cruiser, and as he walked, he talked into a radio on his shoulder. You watched his mouth move, but from his profile you could not even guess what he had said. 

“That was… Weird,” you said quietly, watching his silhouette. The officer slipped into the driver’s seat of his cruiser, and took off. 

You shrugged your shoulders to shake off that insistent crawl of your skin of being watched, and you turned to the partygoers, all of which were staring at you. “You heard him, time to head home.” The lot of them groaned and whined as they shuffled out the door to their rides home.

When the last straggler walked down the path and towards an awaiting car, you shut the door with a heavy sigh and turned to face your best friend and the few of the group that had been invited to stay. All three of them and your best friend stretched in place while you looked at the clock. It was well past midnight now, and you groaned before you rubbed your eyes. “I’m beat. I’m going to sleep, I suggest you do, too.”

They shrugged and you walked to the stairs, when you saw the figure in the window again. You watched as whoever it was tilted their head, and turned to stalk off, out of sight. “Sooner I sleep, the better.”

Warmth engulfed you as you curled up under the covers of your bed for the night, and you burrowed into the comfort as you closed your eyes, listening to the sound of your friends mucking around downstairs. 

It could have been minutes or hours when you awoke next to the sound of your phone vibrating incessantly. You fumbled for the device, only to see the screen was black with the occasional glitch – like an old VCR. “The fuck?” 

The screen flashed to life and a message pinged, making you let out a harsh breath. There were no words, just an attachment, and the photo showed the window that was just behind you. It was an unlisted number. Shivers wracked your spine and you looked frantically over your shoulder, when a rock hit the glass, splintering it and bouncing off with a ping. 

You jumped to your feet and turned the torch of your phone on, but you didn’t dare near the window to see who, or what, it was that threw the rock. “What the-” Lights flickered on and off through the whole house, sparking and humming with electricity, before they exploded.

Darkness flooded your vision and you could hear your friends shuffling and stirring from their slumber, none the wiser for what lurked – what you had seen. 

“What’s going on?” someone said from the shadows. A flashlight lit up and the beam of light hit the ceiling as the shuffling got louder. “What’s happened?”

You backed up against the wall of the bedroom and your hands shook. “I don’t know,” you hissed. “Someone’s here, though–I saw someone in the window earlier.”

There was a quiet gasp and you saw a shadow move from a sleeping bag to come into the light – it was your best friend. “Did you call the cops?”

“No–I was just about to when-”

“I would not do that, if I were you.” The voice was tinny and warped through the speaker of your phone. Everyone jumped and screamed around you as you hurled the phone across the room, watching it hit the drywall and land on the floor with a dull thud. “Now, that was not very nice, was it? That is your first strike.” Complete silence echoed for a few beats, then, “For that, you will watch a friend of yours bounce off of the wall–just like your phone, princess.”

The phone’s screen flashed and turned red. Something akin to terror settled heavy in your stomach and it froze you in place while your best friend rushed to pick up the device. “What the fuck–?”

A crackle of static came from your phone, before, “If only you did not ignore my gifts, I found them just for you. I knew you would like them,” the voice hissed, exasperated and angry. You blinked and then gasped harshly – presents, wrapped in red, had been showing up at your door for months now, and you had just left them or tossed them. 

“I thought that was-” Your lips trembled and your hands shook from the fear coursing through you. “I thought they weren’t-”

“You thought they were not for you, princess?” The voice asked. “I know you are smarter than that. You are not at the top of your class from sucking cock.”

“Who is this psycho?” your best friend hissed through their teeth. 

You shook your head, staring wide-eyed at the phone in their hand. “I don’t-”

“Where is your guest?” It was mocking, and you gritted your teeth to bite your tongue from screaming, instead you stared around at your friends, confused. “Aw. Do not tell me you have forgotten the guest you sent to clean himself up, princess. You have not seen him since he walked up those stairs, have you?”

“Oh, no,” a voice breathed, and someone moved. Your phone was in your hand then, the device hot, as though you’d left it on for hours. A shadow of a friend bolted past you, and you hastened to catch them. 

“Stop! Stop, we have to stick together,” you rushed. 

By some miracle, they nodded their silent agreement, and you led the way to the bathroom; hands still trembling with adrenaline. You could hear the others behind you, shuffling their feet over the floorboards as they followed. 

Your toes touched something thick and wet, and you pointed the torch of your phone down. A puddle of blood pooled and trailed from the same bathroom that the guest would have entered to clean themselves up earlier. 

With a shaky breath, you reached your hand out to the doorknob of the bathroom door, and you gripped the cold metal in your hand.

“Wait, wait,” someone said, and you stopped to look over your shoulder. “What if whoever it is, is in there? What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” you replied, “But we need to see what’s happened to them–it’s obvious whoever it is is toying with us. For all we know it’s a prank.” With that, you pushed the door open, just as the lights overhead flickered – the only room without an exploded bulb. 

The light illuminated a foot, clad in a black boot, hanging over the edge of the bath, and the shower curtain was covered in the spray of blood. The tiles of the bathroom floor, once white, were crimson and black with arterial spray. 

Your stomach clenched and you gagged over the pungent and overwhelming smell of iron in the air. 

Two of your friends shrieked and ran back down the hall to the bedroom, while your best friend stood with you and looked over your shoulder at the scene. You could hear their breath shake with the hitch in their throat.

The circular mirror above the sink had been mostly untouched by the spray, but there were words written on the glass with the guest’s blood. Your mouth worked silently over the words as disbelief clouded your sense of perception, “I’m watching you, princess.”

“Who the fuck did this?” your best friend asked aloud, but you couldn’t find the words to answer as they gestured to the body in the bathtub. “Are they even–?”

You glanced at the bathtub with a sickening realisation – the kind that settled heavily in your stomach and made your limbs feel like lead as you took two steps forward. A sharp gasp caught in your throat at the sight; he was laying on his back, vacant eyes staring up at the ceiling while his skin was mottled grey and red. His throat was slit jaggedly, and the wound wept steadily down his neck and shoulders and onto the porcelain. 

He was in a bath of his own blood.

“We need to get out of here,” you whispered shakily, unable to tear your eyes from the blank stare that only hours ago had been so full of exasperation, even anger. “Now. We need to run.”

“Good luck with that,” a deep voice rasped behind you, and then a piercing scream cut through the silence of the house. You spun around to see a shadow of a man holding one of your friends in a headlock, ignorant of the struggle they were putting against the restraint. “You cannot run from me. You cannot hide, either, princess. Now your friends must pay the price for your selfishness.” 

Time slowed down as your mouth opened around a scream. 

The stranger, shadowed and silhouetted by the window behind him, bodily threw his quarry, your friend, to the wall with as little as a grunt of effort. Their head bounced off of the drywall, leaving behind a dent in the plaster as they crumpled to the floor, silent and deathly still. 

“I warned you that I would do that,” the stranger said, a slight hint of amusement in his voice. “Now it is your turn.” As he spoke, he pointed at your best friend, a manic glint in his eyes. 

You noticed that his face, what was visible of it behind the curtain of dark hair and black mask, at least, was streaked with kohl and blood. There was no way to tell whether the blood was from your friends that no doubt laid lifeless behind him, or whether you were part of a sickening spree.

Every instinct screamed for you to run, but what he warned of rang true – there was no way to outrun him within the house. Heavy boots thudded on the wood and you winced as the toe of one connected with the temple of the friend strewn over the floor – they didn’t even stir, and their chest wasn’t rising and falling with breath. 

You opened your mouth to yell, to shout out for help, but you stumbled in your haste to get away. “Do not go anywhere,” he rasped, getting nearer. “I have worked too hard for you to run. The others were not like you.” Horror washed over you and consumed you whole, just as he said, “They were dead before they realised–I know you would be perfect.”

“Fuck, run!” A hand grabbed your elbow, and pulled. “Run!”

The comparison of yours and your best friend’s footsteps on the stairs were like a hare being chased by a patient wolf; rampant and fast-paced skitters, to the slow, steady beat of the wolf’s.

“What about the others!” you yelled.

A deep, sinister laugh echoed down the stairwell. “No longer with us, princess,” he warned, the click of metal loud over his footsteps. “When will you learn that it is going to be just the two of us?”

You were yanked to the side, towards the front door of the home, when a whoosh of air went past your elbow. A glint of bright, clean metal was all you could see before you gasped in horror as your best friend fell to the floor. “No!”

“What the hell,” they gritted out, hands desperately trying to staunch the bleeding from their leg. A blade handle stuck out at a jaunted angle from their thigh while blood pooled below them. “You-”

“That is much better,” he huffed, and he stalked towards you. The boots he wore slapped over the wet floor; splatters of blood flicking in his stride.

You only had eyes for the rabid killer that neared, but you heard a whimper and moan of pain, then the shuffling of clothes. 

“Run, get out of here,” your best friend rasped. The pallor of their face made you whimper as you looked between them and the approaching murderer. “Go, please–please go, get out,” they begged, their voice weak. 

The toe of a black boot connected with their ribs and they groaned with pain, and you jumped. “I hit an artery,” he said blithely, like it was a simple fact that would not change your life as you knew it. “They will not be with us for much longer.”

“You fucking what!” you shrieked, gaping at the intruder. Terror seized your heart when he advanced faster, that glint of manic energy now flared to a furious anger. The air in your lungs swooped and vanished as he seized your throat, choking you with a strong, cold hand. “Let me go-” You grunted when your back hit a wall, and your head slammed against glass, a photo frame; a family portrait now covered in blood. “You psycho! Let go of me!”

His head tilted to the side. “Such a spirited one.” His voice was muffled by the black mask that covered the bottom half of his face. “You will be perfect–absolutely perfect, and I have high hopes of you.”

With him standing so close, you could smell the ichor and mess that covered the black, tactical leather vest he wore, and the canvas tactical pants covering his legs were splattered with something. The mask shone in the streaked moonlight with the blood of his victims, and his hair was matted with fluids you would not dare to utter. His lank, dark hair fell to his jaw, and when he exhaled, the strands that covered the slits in his mask blew outwards. 

“Fuck you,” you spat, baring your teeth with the effort of your struggle. “Fuck you.”

There was a low, menacing chuckle before you felt the hand around your throat squeeze – the pressure tight and unyielding. “I will break you down, princess. I have the patience to do so, and I will take great pleasure in watching you fracture–do not worry.” 

Your vision swam as you choked and gasped for air, but your lungs could not pull any through his grip. 

“Sleep,” he growled, his face inching closer. “Do not make me snap your pretty neck, princess.”

A wretched, mournful sob fell from your lips, and you coughed while the edges of your vision darkened. In a last bid to find some salvation, you glanced down at the floor, where your best friend would have laid, but they were slumped on their side – eyes vacant and blank, surrounded by a pool of their own blood. 

“No,” you whispered, hands scrabbling at your assailant’s leather covered arm. “No, no- Please!”

“I said sleep,” he snarled, and he pushed against your throat harder, squeezing tighter than a vice. Darkness filled your vision, swirling like the sea. “That is it, princess. Go. You will need it for what I plan for you.”

The last thing you saw as you were swept away, choking from the lack of air, was a set of icey, stone-grey eyes, filled with malice and a sweeping sense of victory. “You are mine, and mine alone.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the absolute and utter shock of being drenched with ice cold water. The cry of shock caught in your throat and you choked on it, tasting blood and god knows what else on your teeth and tongue. Your eyes burned and struggled to focus as the water dripped from your lashes and onto your cheeks.

A dark, rasped laugh echoed from behind you, and you made to twist and face it, but you could not move. 

Ropes bound you to the chair you were sitting on. Your ankles, knees and thighs, your middle, and your arms were chafed and red from the fibres. A zip tie was cinched around your wrists and to the back of the chair so tightly, that you could barely feel your fingers. 

“Hello.” The voice was muffled, but still sickly sweet with malice and a sense of twisted triumph. “It is nice of you to finally join me, princess.”

“You sick bastard.” The words felt catastrophically inadequate to the rage you felt, but with very little else at your disposal, you felt like words were the last weapon you had at your arsenal. “What do you want from me?”

A hand, of cold and shining metal, squeezed your shoulder. “I want you. I have watched you for a long time now–I have waited for the right moment to make you mine.” There was a swelling silence before he spoke again, and you prayed that he would have just stayed silent. “You were one of the few I chose, and the only one that survived. The others… They were weak, pitiful in the end.”

Chilled terror encapsulated you whole, turning your blood to ice and your muscles to rigid blocks, akin to an iceberg. The fear ran deep and consumed you as that same hand gestured to the wall in front of you, and you blinked as you turned your head to look. 

Pictures – all manners of polaroids and stills from surveillance footage were pinned and stuck to the wall, all looped and connected with black string and red writing that scratched and tore at the pieces of paper. The resemblance to being written in blood wasn’t lost on you, and it made your heart beat faster with the implication. 

All the bodies of your friends flashed in your mind. How this stranger had killed them off with as little care but high finesse screamed serial killer. The matter of fact statement that you were one of the few, but the only one to survive, lent credit to that observation. 

The ironic truth of your obsession with true crime documentaries, and being part of one, was also not lost on you. 

His voice, still raspy, spoke again. “I have worked tirelessly these past few months to obtain you–my ultimate prize, my trophy. Did you not wonder why an officer of such high rank knocked on your door? How you were left alone, ripe for me to strike?”

The decorated officer with blond hair and blue eyes flashed in your mind’s eye with his question, and your breath hitched. Your suspicion was right, your gut instinct was right. “How-”

“He is my…” He paused, as though searching for the right word. “He is an accomplice of mine.”

A deafening silence echoed off the walls of your ‘cell’ – the walls of solid brick and pipes gave the illusion of some kind of basement, and the singular light that swung above your head flickered and hummed. Shadows danced over the pictures of you and your friends, warping the memories you once held so dear. 

The friends, all of them that were in those photos, now laid dead; bled dry or broken beyond healing. 

You hiccuped and exhaled shakily, glancing around the room as the panic that once simmered roared to life. “I–”

“You were so brave before, princess,” he cooed, tipping your chin up with his index finger. “Where has all of your fight gone, hmm? I could not have broken such a spirited one so easily.”

Your eyes tracked his movement as he moved to stand in front of you, and you took him in. Dark hair hung limply around his pale face, framing the skeletal, gaunt cheekbones and brows above the black mask. His eyes were a haunting grey – dark and murky with the deeds he had committed and the ones he planned to commit.

The thought of what he could have planned for you made you shudder and ball your hands into fists. 

“You killed all of them–my friends,” you hissed, baring your teeth. “All of them are dead. You fucking killed them, slaughtered them like animals, you monster! That’s what you are, a fucking monster!”

A cold palm connected with your cheek, and you shrieked with pain as your head snapped to the side. 

“Watch your tongue, girl.” The same hand that slapped you, grabbed a hold of your cheeks with a thumb and index finger and squeezed – tight enough to no doubt leave a bruise. You whimpered quietly and stared into his face, so ghastly pale; clean of blood and muck. “It would be unwise to make me angry, princess. You do not want to make me mad, do you? I cannot control myself when-”

“No,” you whimpered, blinking fast to clear the tears from your vision. A single tear escaped and tracked down your stinging cheek. 

He clicked his tongue as he watched it fall until it rolled down your neck, and he used a thumb to wipe it away. “So pretty when you cry, princess. If only it was over something else. Do not get me wrong,” he said, standing tall once more. “I would make it happen, if I did not have a slither of consciousness.” There was a hint of laughter in his voice, as though he found the concept of such a thing amusing. “Or the motivation of finally having you–calling you mine.”

You watched as he stepped back and sat himself down on a chair in the corner, shrouded in shadow. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees so his metal hand shone in the dull light from overhead. “That is my endgame, princess. And, whether you like it or not, you will be mine.” 

“I won’t,” you whispered, shaking your head. “You won’t have me, ever. Not now, not ever.”

Cold laughter came from the same shadow that he had perched himself in. “You are very funny.” His face came out of the shadows and you stared into his cold, piercing eyes as he tilted his head. “You think you have a choice.”

Fear froze your heart as you watched him slink back into the shadows. “You can’t keep me!” you shouted, pulling at the ropes. “You can’t! Someone will look for me, you won’t-”

“You are all alone, princess.” Metal shone from the shadow and you realised it was a blade of a knife. “No one will come, and no one can hear you.” The blade flew in the air, once, twice. “As of midnight, you have been declared dead. Cold and lifeless–deceased and in a morgue,” he hissed.

“What?” you croaked.

He stood again, flipping the knife as his boots thudded over the cement floor. “No one will come for you. You are dead, you do not exist,” he growled. “You are mine–mine to keep, mine to use. The sooner you accept this, the easier it will be, and the less you will be hurt.”

“Fuck,” you rasped, speechless from horror. You glanced around the room fitfully, searching for something to get you out and release the hold this murderer had on you. “No, no, no–”

“I assure you,” he said, folding his arms across his chest as he stood right in front of you, and you looked up into those eyes you had already grown to hate, to fear. “There is no way to escape from me, girl. This is a hell of your own making, and you will not win. You will beg. You will throw tantrums.” 

You watched as he uncrossed his arms and he gestured wildly with his hands; one of flesh and bone, one of shining, cold metal. It was a haunting sight. 

“There will be no ending to this where you escape–at least, alive. You will be mine, whether I have to break you down or kill you myself–but that would be an awful waste.” He cupped your jaw in his right hand and brushed his callused, bloodied thumb over your bottom lip. “I would rather you stayed alive. A trophy like you deserves to be shown, and proudly.”

His face neared yours and he moved his hand from your jaw to your chin, and gripped it tightly. “And I will also assure you, princess, that I have every intention of showing off what is mine.”

Words failed you; your heart seized, then shattered in your ribcage. A broken sob fell from your lips. 

A loud, harsh sigh blew the strands of hair away from his mask. “Quiet.” The command was followed by a pat to your cheek, the sting of his palm on your already sensitive skin made you wince. “I have work to do, princess. Your friends made an awful mess.”

You watched him walk away. The sway of his shoulders and the set of his posture screamed of a silent threat you could not put into words, but it made your very bones shiver with fear. 

“Oh,” he said suddenly, turning to face you in the doorway. “You may call me Sir, or Soldat. The choice is yours. Anything else will land you a punishment.”

“Fuck you,” you sneered, tears freely streaming down your face now. “I won’t call you shit but the murderer you are!”

Soldat hung his head and then stalked back, brandishing a black strip of cloth that appeared from nowhere. “First lesson begins now. Open your mouth, or I will do it for you.”

“No-” Your protest was cut off with a squeak as Soldat seized your jaw and pried it open, the force of his grip brutal and inescapable. The black cloth was stuffed roughly into your mouth, and he let go of your jaw to tie it tightly around the back of your head. “Hmph!”

“Keep quiet,” he growled, staring into your eyes with such fury you felt your insides quiver with the fear it imposed. “I will not tell you again or I will take your tongue. Do not make me angry, princess.”

You blinked and shrunk back from the threat, nodding meekly. 

“Good,” he said, and he turned to walk away again, but paused. “I will be back later to bathe and clean you from all that blood. I cannot stand the sight of my precious girl covered in filth.”

His shadow disappeared down the hall and his footsteps quietened the further he walked away. 

Your breath came in shallow pants as you sat there, blinking and trembling, desperately trying to take in what you had been through. 

The pictures on the wall glared at you, like you should have known you were being watched. Memories of your best friend and the coffee dates you shared; the time your friend surprised you with a bear on your birthday; walks in the park with your family and then your friends, each one shot from a distance. 

In every single shot, your face had been crystal clear – the intended target while everyone else fell like dominoes around you. 

You whimpered and shook your head, desperate to clear the panicked fog from your mind, but that only made it worse. A gut-wrenching sob shook your whole body, and you couldn’t hold the fear back any longer.

The muffled wails that tore from your throat only echoed off of the walls of your confinement, never escaping to reach those outside – if there even were people out there. You had no idea, and your grief for such tragedy and loss broke you down, tearing and shattering your foundations and beliefs to their core. 

No one was coming to save you.

You were dead, a lone entity, locked in a chamber and at the mercy of a murderer. It would be easy to give in, you guessed, but the fire of spite burned brighter than any star. 

But for now, you allowed the shock and terror to rule your body, using it as a vessel to escape the deep, deep trenches of your psyche.

You would fight, and by all that you had, you were determined to win. 

don't look at me like that, I know this is fucked up. 😅

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[projectionistwrites]

m a s t e r l i s t !

all of my works in one place for you.

hi ! i’m elouise ! i hope you enjoy reading ! requests are always open :)

→ fic recs page.

DISCLAIMER: all of my works are 18+, as most of them contain mature sexual content. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

SUPERNATURAL

in progress

MOON KNIGHT

FOR SCIENCE (Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader) In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all... → the project proposal → case study: subject one → case study: subject two → case study: subject three → data analysis IMPLODING THE MIRAGE (Moon Knight x afab!reader) You’ve been escaping into yourself more and more often, and the boys are starting to notice. How are you supposed to explain to them that you don’t want to live in the moment, when the version of your life inside your head is so much better than reality on the outside? ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY (Marc Spector x afab!reader) Marc Spector didn’t fancy himself a jealous man—but you knew exactly how to push his buttons.

SPIDERVERSE

in progress

THE BOYS

in progress

THE BATMAN

in progress

THE LAST OF US

GESTALT (pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x afab!babysitter!reader) The last thing Joel Miller had ever said to you was that he hoped he never saw you again. Luckily for him, not more than twenty-four hours later, it was the end of the fucking world. → part one: 1999 → part two: 2000 → part three: 2001 → part four: 2002 → part five: 2003 EQUIFINALITY (Joel Miller x afab!reader) SEQUEL TO GESTALT You should be dead. But twenty years later, the world is still spinning, your lungs are still breathing, and Joel fucking Miller is standing in front of you—it still makes your heart beat just as fast as the night he broke it. → part one: winter → part two: spring → part three: summer → part four: fall REMINISCENCE (boston!Joel Miller x afab!reader) You and Joel discuss the things you miss most about life before the outbreak. I HEAR A SYMPHONY (Joel Miller x gn!reader) Joel Miller once lived and breathed a melody, before Cordyceps came and stole the music in his heart away—but then he met someone who set his world back into tune.

TRIPLE FRONTIER

in progress

this list is updated regularly!