#but she seems to capture the character her way very well
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So it’s really been bothering me that Hunter’s reaction to Omega turning herself over to the Empire was almost nonexistent. Like, sure I get it could have just been writer’s choice to focus on the overall plot, but the same writers have gone out of their way to show how passionate Hunter is about keeping Omega safe and how much it effected him when she was captured at the end of season two. SO, I got an idea:
What if Omega surrendering during the invasion was always the plan?
Okay, hear me out. Omega has been very vocal about her desire to go back to Tantiss even before they’d actually escaped. Leaving the other prisoners behind never even crossed her mind. On the other hand, Crosshair has done everything he can to ignore anything remotely related to Tantiss except Omega. Hence why he won’t address the real reason behind his hand tremor.
Now consider: Omega is wracked with guilt/determination, finding it more difficult each day (especially as she sees the extent of Crosshair’s trauma) to sit back and do nothing while there are still so many clones stuck in that awful prison undergoing who knows what torture. So she goes to Hunter, resolved to do Something. Except, there’s nothing they can do until they get the base’s coordinates. Which Hunter and Wrecker already know is nearly impossible since they’ve been trying since Omega was kidnapped in s2.
THEN it becomes apparent that Crosshair isn’t telling them everything. They try to talk to him repeatedly, but nothing is working. He’s locked up tight. So someone (probably Omega) comes up with a plan.
If Omega, the only person Crosshair feels has never abandoned him as well as the one he’s the most protective of now, is taken back to Tantiss then Crosshair will have to reveal what he knows in order to rescue her.
It’s kinda mean and manipulative and very dangerous, but it’s the only feasible plan they’ve got. And as Omega says to Crosshair before she turns herself over: they need to focus on the bigger mission and they, as individuals, are only a small part of it. Omega clearly knows this and as bad as she may feel for forcing Crosshair to return, she knows they HAVE to save the imprisoned clones. It’s a matter of life and death.
And because Omega is Hunter’s weak spot (he will literally do anything for her since she’s basically his child— which makes his sudden lack of reaction even weirder) he agrees.
So Hunter approaches Cid, convincing her to tip off her Imperial informant either out of guilt or monetary incentive. Cid’s info leads CX-2 to Phee who leads him to Pabu. Then all they have to do is get Omega in a position where she seems to have no choice but surrender. It’s not hard to predict, the Empire’s done all this before.
THIS is why neither Hunter or Wrecker are losing it like everyone thought they would. It’s why they’re not blaming Crosshair or running themselves ragged or burning down the galaxy to find her. It’s why Omega is so calm even though she’s back to square one in Hemlock’s ‘care’. It’s why Crosshair seems to be the one most effected by her loss. The others knew what was going to happen; they were prepared. They trust Omega implicitly, knowing that she can keep herself safe until Crosshair leads them to Tantiss. In return, Omega trusts that they will find her. She trusts that Crosshair won’t leave her behind.
I know this is highly unlikely to become canon, but I think it would make all their seemingly uncharacteristic behavior actually very in character without the vague explanation: Writer’s Choice. Either way, that’s my headcanon and I’m sticking to it!
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Our good friend Jonathan Harker is getting ready to leave for his business trip, Mina Murray is picking out a new journal, Lucy Westenra is charming a gaggle of smitten suitors, Abraham van Helsing is wrapping up his lectures, and Castle Dracula is prepping the guest room for a very long stay.
Which must mean that Dracula Season is here again!
‘Dracula Season’ being a catchall term for the voracious reading, memeing, writing, illustrating, analyzing, and general fun-having that’s ensued since Matt Kirkland’s project, Dracula Daily, caught on with us back in 2022. The Substack had already been running before then, but it sparked a conflagration as time went on and readers old and new to Bram Stoker’s Dracula—the actual novel, not Coppola’s fanfiction—devoured it in a way that scratched an itch none of us knew we had. Stoker wrote the book in epistolary fashion, clumping sections together as needed for the pacing without perfect adherence to chronological order. Matt went ahead and put all the events in order and proceeded to set up a lovely chain of emails that delivered entries on those correlating dates.
This style of organization and pacing turned out to not only make the virtual book club that much easier to engage with, but left space in-between to stew on the story and relate with the characters themselves. Every day of waiting in the book feels weightier when you have to pace and sweat and worry in tandem with poor Jonathan trapped in the castle or Lucy wasting away or Mina running out the clock before she loses the fight for her own humanity. And while we sat with the story or the lulls between Dracula Seasons, some of us found ourselves craving more of that ghastly gothic horror goodness to the point that we figured:
“Well. Why don’t I make something?”
And then we did! Tons of creative works have been churned out in the wake of Dracula Daily’s high. I figured that while we’ve still got a bit of time to wait for May 3rd, we should check out all this new stuff in the meantime. (Plus a handful of neat stuff that just clicks with the Dracula itch overall.)
So, in the interest of Dracula Season pregaming, let’s take a look at…
FICTION
Blood of My Blood – A recent addition to the Dracula Bad Ending AU pile, and definitely one of the most harrowing and addictive group-produced narratives I’ve ever come across, Blood of My Blood is the dramatically gothic currently-WIP work of @ibrithir-was-here and @animate-mush’s devious design. Give or take a heap of other fascinated folks (hello!) adding ideas to put more Horror into the Horrors that our cast has to face. The premise:
The Transylvanian climax went fatally sour and the Harkers were forced to shelter with Dracula himself, including their half-vampire son, Quincey. Cut to two decades later, and Quincey finds himself out in modern London, smitten with Lu, adopted daughter of Arthur and Jack, and diving into certain bloodstained old documents that detail the real history of how his parents came to live in the castle. Said revelations coming not a moment too soon, as a storm is coming for him straight from the Carpathians…
Dracula Daily Sketch Collection – An array of illustrations that captures every entry beat by beat, the Dracula Daily Sketch Collection by Georgia Cook, alias @georgiacooked was dished out over the course of the last Dracula Season. Some of the most fun character designs out there.
Fanfiction Spotlight: BlueCatWriter – With a whopping 99 works devoted to the novel Dracula (so far, the number may have gone up since I blinked), @bluecatwriter is one of the most prolific and talented fanfiction scribblers out there. Romances, nightmares, and overlaps between the two seem to crop up the most, give or take a crossover. Seems fitting that those blue paw prints have contributed to BoMB too.
The League of Extraordinary Gentlefolk – An ongoing comic in which all your favorite characters from the Classics section get together and tackle some perils ranging from the mundane to the monstrous. Started by the amazing @mayhemchicken and posted on @lxgentlefolkcomic, this series is a love letter to beloved Victorian era lit, with a spotlight on the two couples leading the League. Namely, the Harkers, ala Dracula, and the Nortons, ala Sherlock Holmes,’ “A Scandal in Bohemia.” Mina and Irene are the driving investigative and steering forces here, and still deeply in love with their likewise-infatuated husbands, just like in their canons! What a concept! Alan.
Without spoiling the full character list, just know there are going to be a ton of familiar faces roaming around before you finish reading the first arc. Said arc having conveniently wrapped up just a few days ago! Give the comic and its bonus silliness a look if you’re in the mood for a new comfort-adventure epic.
Re: Dracula – Probably the most well-known and incredible thing to come out of the initial Dracula Daily wave. This podcast is a full audio drama that follows the same format as the Substack, with episodes coming out in time with the entries themselves. And it has an unfairly cool soundtrack. They have a Tumblr with @re-dracula, a site and a Patreon to check out before the series kicks up again on May 3rd. (Also, keep an eye out for their next work, an audio drama in the same style with Carmilla.)
The Soldier and the Solicitor – Another treat from @ibrithir-was-here, this one involves a bit of time travel trouble. Quincey Harker has stumbled out of World War I and into the same dark forest where his father once fled for his life…then runs into the man himself, on that same night. Jonathan Harker, young and starved and lost, who has no choice but to trust this stranger while the Weird Sisters are at his heels…despite said stranger having no shadow. It’s a tasty emotional trek, already complete on Tumblr, but now it’s turning into a Webtoon. While Ibrithir is juggling a number of other stories, she’ll be redrawing spruced up versions of the comic and adding a few new scenes as things unfold.
Substack Stack – You know what’s better than one emailed-out public domain book club? A mountain of them. Just. So, so many of them. You’ll see that a lot of these are finished, but some are still ticking along. Either way, they’re all great picks if you’re craving some more old school lit to fill the void between undead emails.
Frankenstein Weekly – Frankenstein
Jekyll and Hyde Weekly – The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Voyage of the Nautilus – Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
Letters from Watson – Sherlock Holmes
The Invisible Mail – The Invisible Man
Letters from Bunny – E.W. Hornung’s short stories of the eponymous Bunny and Raffles
Letters Regarding Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse’s Bertie Wooster short stories, including the novel, Right Ho, Jeeves
…
……
………
…The Beetle Weekly – The Beetle (NOTE: Do Not Read This.)
The Vampyres – A novella I finally wrenched through the gears of self-publication as of March this year. Starring a petite but powerful paranormal cast, The Vampyres, centers on an unscrupulous undead fellow who finds that the revenants of the world are being mowed down by an entity known only as ‘Quinn Morse.’ Between trying to save his neck and figure out where the shadowy bastard came from, the Vampyre in question crosses paths with a new paramour and handy human shield in the form of a grieving Good Samaritan. He’s even polite enough to invite the Vampyre into his home while he’s in dire straits! Surely this will end well. All the info is available here and a little author site is over here.
What Manner of Man – This is the one made for everyone who started out hoping there’d be a real love story with our good friend Jonathan Harker and the Count when he was at his most charismatic. Where that sea of wonders dried up into a mire of horror, What Manner of Man by @stjohnstarling keeps things firmly on the romantic tracks. This Substack stars the letter-writing priest Father Victor E. Ardelian as he finds himself meeting with one enigmatic Lord Alistair Vane. It isn’t long before interest turns into intrigue and intrigue into undead intimacies.
The entire novel has been completed—along with multiple epilogues in the author’s Patreon, allowing readers to choose for themselves just how the uncanny romance plays out in the end—and the Substack now has a number of other gothic goodies piling up in the meantime.
NONFICTION
Dracula Daily: A Unique Reading Experience: This one comes courtesy of @realwomenofgaming. It’s a short and sweet piece that amounts to a fun snapshot of the entire Dracula Daily ride. A cozy couple-minute read.
‘Dracula Daily’ is the One Substack You Need a Subscription To: Features my favorite Matt Kirkland interview. @mattkirkland, if you’re still floating around on here, thank you for dispatching our vampire newsletter again this year.
Dracula Daily is Tumblr’s hottest new book club: Alright, the ‘new’ part is worn out by now, but this one is still a delightful article to swing back around to. Two years on, this Polygon piece is a time capsule of those early months when people outside our bookworm bubble realized we were all happily receiving letters from our favorite classic gothic horror blorbos.
“How Mina Murray Became Dracula’s Girlfriend” – Princess Weekes, if you ever read this, thank you, thank you, thank you. I am sending oceans of love and millions of rewatches to your video essay. If you haven’t seen it yet, “How Mina Murray Became Dracula’s Girlfriend” is one of the most refreshing and well-made breakdowns of both the title subject and numerous other issues that have proliferated in the public view of Dracula’s cast and plot as adaptations endlessly warp or outright bastardize the actual novel. An incredibly cathartic watch.
Literary play gone viral: delight, intertextuality, and challenges to normative interpretations through the digital serialization of Dracula: A mouthful of a title for an even more elaborate article about the Dracula Daily phenomenon. This one is a full-on study that analyzes just what happened within the big bloodsucker book club surge and how its ‘wandering reading practices’ enriched the experience for participants.
“The Undying Undead: An analysis of the Dracula Daily community for a theory of online community formation and interaction” – We have a thesis on here! Look at that! @sirangelothebestest’s MA thesis used our vampiric book club as the bones for a massive brick of an academic piece that definitely deserves a look.
…And I think I’ll go ahead and cap things here.
This isn’t everything I got recommended, but if I had squashed all of it in here, I think folks’ eyes would start to fall out of their head. I hope you can find something cool to comb through here. Or, if there’s something great I overlooked, tack it onto the list! We’ve got just two weeks to go until we’re off with Mr. Harker. Let’s enjoy our respite before those castle doors close behind us.
#time for Dracula Season pre-gaming :3#thank you to everyone who sent in their suggestions!#dracula#dracula daily#re: dracula
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THE MOMENT WE WERE ALL WAITING FOR, FINALLY FINISHED THE DESIGN OF ASTER YESSSSSS ✨✨✨✨✨✨❤❤
This design belongs to the Wish rewrite called "The kingdom of wishes" (Written by @annymation and soon illustrated by @emillyverse and me)
Sorry for the delay, but this guy had so many things to draw and I also had a thousand ideas that it took me a while to capture them all (4 drawings wow, even I'm surprised lol)
Now after this introduction I will tell you the procedure of its design :]
2D MODEL:
-Maybe some don't notice it, but for the 2D drawing of Aster I didn't add many shadows, because in the classic Disney movies the animation doesn't have many shadows if we look closely, this is for several reasons (at that time they had to inking FRAME BY FRAME, can you imagine how much longer it would have taken to add detailed shadows? I really have respect for the animators)
(Here are some examples of what I'm trying to explain)
-As I said before, I didn't detach myself much from the concept art of the movie, I just added some other details that occurred to me, Anny and Emy.
-We decided that his cape would have the constellations of the signs of the zodiac (It was Emy's idea), which in the final result are on the cape, the constellations are noticeable more or less depending on Aster's mood.
-In the Wish rewrite it is mentioned that Aster's hair is like a candle (Reference to Hades) so I decided not to add the lineart in that part
His hair changes depending on his emotions, but not only that, but also his lineart, the calmer he is, the cleaner his animation will be, however with strong emotions (anger, sadness, nervousness) his details will be more neglected, especially when He is REALLY angry, by the way I made his hair look like a flame to give more drama to his design and also make a reference to Ember from Elemental
And as a final detail, the star-shaped gem that she has as a brooch changes color, just like her earrings.
3D MODEL:
-When Aster disguises himself as a human, his details on his clothes would disappear and the shape of his accessories would change to ones without a star shape, also the tone of yellow would look duller, you know so as not to draw attention (although he is dressed like a prince with a giant cape, the boy doesn't know how to hide the truth very well lmao)
-In general, it's just that the design becomes simpler, the only thing that changes is her hair that is no longer a flame, her freckles that are no longer little stars, her clothes no longer have so many details and her mark on her eye disappears(￣▽￣) .
By the way, I wanted to thank @the-autistic-idiot for giving us the great idea of Aster having a star-shaped mark on his eye :D.
-Also, I think that those who have seen my other Wish redesigns are wondering why it seems like I had spit a rainbow at Aster's 3D drawings, what happened is that when I was painting my neurons said ✨Change your coloring✨ and well, The drawing in the end came out like this, although I honestly like it better, it better represents how I draw in a traditional way
Yes, basically the coloring of my drawings is as if a unicorn had spit on them lol
FINAL COMMENTS:
-It was very fun to draw Aster! The boy really has a lot of changes, but thanks to him I already discovered my digital drawing style so I am satisfied.
-Again sorry for the delay, I know that for many Aster must be their favorite character so I hope your wait was worth it :]
See you next time!✨✨
#disney wish#wish 2023#disney#wish movie#sketch#wish#art#artists on tumblr#artwork#drawing#star wish#starboy#human star#wish star#starsha#star redesing#the kingdom of wishes#the kingdom of wishes fandom#the kingdom of wishes au#starboy wish#starboy x asha#asha and starboy#wish concept art#asha x star#wish asha#wish disney#disney fanart#disney movies#disney animation#walt disney animation studios
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Who's your daddy? | s.r
summary: After a long day's work, the BAU returns to the head office where they find a stroller with a small baby sleeping and a child very determined to surprise his father… But who's his father?
warnings: too much fluff, spencer!dad, my best attempt at Spencer dad because it's 24/7 on my mind. I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING IT, AAAAAAAAAAA.
This story is not spencer x reader, i wanted to try something different so i created a character. I hope you guys like it.
words: 4,241.
a/n: I decided to surprise myself and try the family/family found challenge from one of my favorite writers in the whole universe, @imagining-in-the-margins. I used, I think, one of my favorite concepts which is "secret family/spouse/child" for this little au.
i want to remind you that English is not my first language, so if there are mistakes I hope you will forgive me :(
I hope you like it, plus I really enjoyed being able to try something new and outside of what I usually focus my writing on. THANK YOU, TQM.
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Catching criminals is a good way to kill time.
The BAU team knew this perfectly well, that's why they were dedicated to it. Every day was a new experience trying to find and capture the worst of the worst of humanity. Even though sometimes they just wished those freaks would take a day off.
The last case had sent them all the way to Silicon Valley, successfully catching the unsub and making it safely back to the FBI offices.
What they didn't expect was to find their technical analyst and friend, Penelope, gazing in amazement at the inside of a stroller.
"What is that, Penny?" asked Emily, walking up to the blonde figure who was totally engrossed by what she was seeing in that baby carriage. The group approached silently, after seeing the woman's signal for them to come as quietly as possible, and saw inside it.
A small baby was sleeping comfortably inside. They estimated that he was about eight months old; they could see a few strands of thin brown hair that were tousled falling down his forehead, his little nose was puckered and his little hand clenched the tail of a fluffy lion. His outfit was as cute as possible: his body was adorned by a white long-sleeved T-shirt with an iguana on it and a leaf-green overalls, but much of his body was covered by a gray blanket.
"Isn't that the cutest thing you've ever seen?" Penn looked up, feeling her heart stir. "I went out to greet you and found this beautiful creature. He was sleeping and alone, so I decided to keep him company until someone came to claim to be the father of this beautiful peach." J.J couldn't fall for the charms of that baby, after becoming a mother her Achilles heel was children.
"Was he alone, Penelope, are you sure there was no one with him?" Luke couldn't help but wonder how it was possible that they had left a baby, alone, in the middle of a hallway in a federal building. "Positive, I've been there for about ten minutes and I haven't seen anyone approach him."
The team brought their full attention to the mysterious stroller, looking for some sign of what would be the perpetrators. Hanging there was a gray-colored bag with a small giraffe keychain; inside it was the necessities for any kind of emergency that might happen. Diapers, change of clothes, some food, powdered milk, a bottle, everything necessary for a baby.
"We should check the cameras to see who brought him here" Matt suggested, feeling his nose being invaded by the smell of baby cologne, a very mild and almost hypnotic one.
"It's a blind spot, Matt." Tara replied, noticing how the little guy rolled over and let out an adorable yawn, falling back asleep. "He's too cute." Penelope's eyes seemed to shoot hearts.
"We should move him out of the hallway, it's drafty and he might catch a cold." J.J brought her hands up to the carriage and began to push it, being followed by the rest of the people back to their cubicles.
Despite the movement, the little boy, who was now nicknamed "peach" thanks to Garcia, remained in that deep sleep.
"I wish I had that deep sleep" Emily smiled, looking at peach's features.
He looked like someone.
Who was it?
"I want to go back to those times where my only problem was sleeping and eating" Rossi commented, causing his colleagues to laugh.
"I don't understand how a baby could have gotten up there without anyone seeing him. It's a building full of federal agents, there's no way no one saw anything." Matt nodded at Luke's words. "Let's jump to conclusions, how did a sleeping baby get here? There's no way he pushed his own car to get here." J.J peeled his gaze from the car, feeling a light bulb in his head turn on.
"In the bag there were juice boxes, it is unlikely that they are for him. It is recommended that at twelve months they can only have juice, so they may be from the parent or he has a brother or sister accompanying him" Rossi smiled, nodding at the words the young woman was saying. It was quite logical coming from the mother bear.
"If that were so, where is this responsabl-"
"Excuse me," A high pitched voice interrupted Luke's sentence "I believe you have my brother."
The group turned to see where the voice was coming from. A small figure was standing behind them, he looked quite calm and was running his hands down his brown pants.
The small glasses were drooping down the bridge of his nose, his hair was disheveled just like his little brother's and his hands were arranging the sleeves of his blue hoodie.
"I-is he your brother?" Emily stood at the height of the youngest, who was nodding before he approached the baby carriage and took to watching the little one, inwardly thankful that he remained in his deep sleep.
"I just went to the bathroom and when I came back he was gone." The little boy drew an elongated smile, taking in the faces of everyone around the stroller. " You're federal agents, so I didn't panic too much when I didn't see him."
The boy settled on the floor, taking off the backpack he was carrying and pulled out of it a book, which had in golden letters the title of "The Little Prince." Apparently, it was in French.
"How do you know we're federal agents?" Luke seemed just as surprised as the others, who didn't understand how the youngest could remain calm after taking his brother away, and besides, he knew they were federal agents.
"It says so on your badge, sir" The small hand pointed in the direction of the badge hanging from his pants, causing everyone to turn their gaze to it. "Besides, my mom told me."
"And where is your mom?" Rossi was the one who took the word, smiling at the confidence the young man possessed.
"That's a good question, sir. I'd like to know where she is, too." He shrugged, trying to remember what the woman had told him before leaving him in the hallway of the BAU office. "I know she told me, but at the moment I can't remember. It was too noisy when she said it."
The rest were silent. The little boy was handling a rather formal vocabulary, one that is very strange for his age, plus he looked quite interested in reading his book than paying attention to the rest of the stares.
"Excuse me, sweetheart… But how old are you?" Penelope smiled friendly towards the young man, who took his eyes off his interesting book.
"Five and a half, but many say from the way I talk I'm older."
Luke opened his mouth, surprised at the young age he possessed and that, moreover, he was in charge of his brother.
"What about your brother, how old is he?"
"He's eight months and two weeks old, he's still not close enough to say he's nine months old, so I'd rather be exact."
Emily was increasingly sure that he looked like an exact copy of someone she knows, but she couldn't associate it.
"Even so," Continued the young boy "there's something you guys haven't asked me" the book took a step back, closing it and setting it down on his lap.
"What's that, kiddo?" Tara asked.
"My name or my brother's" The group looked at each other. He was right, they had been so preoccupied with finding out about the person in charge of them or their age that they had overlooked asking his name.
"You're right, that was rude of us, what's your name?" Matt fixed his gaze on the young figure, who was giving them a smile where one of his front teeth was missing.
"I'm Alex, well… Actually my name is Alexander, but my mom and dad call me Alex, except when they're mad." A small giggle escaped Jennifer's mouth. "And my brother's name is Oliver, but we call him Oli."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Alex." Matt's hand extended in the direction of the little boy, who shook it with a smile. "What about you guys, what are your names?"
The group smiled, introducing themselves to each other so that the young boy could remember each name without a problem. After this, the little boy began to repeat the names, making sure he could remember each one well and be able to get each name right.
"Okay, Alex. Now that we know each other, I want to ask you a question" J.J addressed the little one, who gave him his full attention.
"Shoot, Miss J.J" His answer caused everyone to laugh, letting the little guy's charisma win them over.
"What are you doing here? I don't think you decided to come here at nine o'clock at night with your brother and mother just to see the place."
"Well, we actually came to see my dad." Admitted the little boy, adjusting his glasses.
"Your dad? And where is he?" Penelope searched with her gaze, as if she were on her computer looking up the information on her servers.
"It's a surprise! Dad doesn't know we're here, it's the first time we've come to see him at work. I wanted to surprise him so I asked Mom if she could bring me here, and since I've been good, she agreed." Proudly, Alex reached into his backpack for a neatly folded piece of paper. He opened it and held it out to J.J., who was surprised at the grades on that slip of paper.
"Wow, I see only A's here" The printout passed from hand to hand, noting that every course had been passed with the highest grade.
"Yep, even sports! Mr. Adams, my teacher, said I'd been the fastest in the class. Even though I prefer literature, I got along better with letters than balls."
Emily was sure she was a clear copy of the youngest on her team, Spencer Reid.
Wait, where was Spencer?
"Where is Spencer?" Emily turned her gaze to her buddies, who were handing the paper back to Alex so he could put it in his backpack.
"He said he was going to do some stuff on the fourth floor, then he'd be on his way here." Tara replied, turning her attention back to the little boy. "By the way, what's your dad's name? Maybe we can help you look for him, we're the best profiling group in the whole FBI, so we can find him fast."
"His name is Dad!"
"And what's your mom's name?"
"Mom?"
The group went blank. It was clear that a five-year-old wouldn't know what his father or mother's name was. Despite being quite intelligent, to him his parents were called "Mom and Dad."
But it seemed they had managed to summon something, for after mentioning the progenitor of both, little Oliver interrupted their conversation with a whimper announcing that his bedtime was over, plus his beloved mother figure was missing.
"Oh no…"
Alex moved in the direction of the backpack, opening it to look for his brother's pacifier.
The longer they lingered, the louder and louder the little boy's crying got. J.J tried to cuddle him, trying to soothe him while Emily rocked the stroller back and forth and Tara hummed a lullaby.
Luke and Matt were trying to distract him, waving their hands in front of him and making funny faces. Rossi was trying to help Penelope and little Alex with the search for the pacifier, who would occasionally bring his hands to his ears to stop the sound of his brother for a couple of seconds.
But silence came in surprise, causing everyone to stop their actions. Their gazes turned to the baby, who was giving a giggly laugh and wiggling his feet, babbling something. It looked like Oliver was feeling something.
"What's going on here?" a female voice interrupted them, again directing their gaze back.
A tall woman, who was wearing a simple beige sweater and black pants plus black converses, was approaching the stroller. The group of people moved away from her, who was leaving a plastic bag with a box in it on one of the desks and holding the baby in her hands.
She made sure to settle him on her shoulder, stroking his back slowly. Alex smiled, moving closer to the young woman and hugged her side, letting his glasses lift a little from being so tight against her.
"Mommy! Where were you, I thought you'd left me alone forever! Well… Not alone, I was with Oli but you know what I mean." The woman let out a giggle, bringing her free hand to the younger one's disheveled hair and stroked it, feeling the younger one squeeze tighter and tighter.
"Alex, love, I told you I was going to the store to buy Daddy's donuts, don't you remember?" She pushed little Oliver away so she could kiss his forehead and settle him back into the stroller. Her hands, now free, went to Oli's side and took a small pacifier, bringing it up to the baby's mouth, which he immediately accepted to begin sucking on.
"Oh… That's what you told me."
Thewhole group let out a laugh, noticing the little one's rosy cheeks. The woman, now recognized as "mommy", turned to look at the group who had taken it upon themselves to care for her two children.
"Gee, sorry for ignoring you guys." The girl giggled, giving them the same look Alex had given them a few minutes ago, fixing on each one. "Thanks for watching them, I know Alex is responsible, but I'm glad to know there were older ones around."
"You don't have to, Alex was a sweetheart. We were nosy and took his little brother, it was our mistake." Emily admitted.
"That's right, Mommy! I went to the bathroom and they had taken Oli" The young woman simply laughed, kissing the younger boy's forehead before speaking again.
"It's okay, kiddo. They did the right thing, they did the reasonable thing."
"We tried to find out who his parents were, but he told us their names were mom and dad" Alex nodded, looking at his progenitor who seemed quite amused by the whole situation.
Alex took her mother's hand, motioning her to come closer to tell her something. The female complied, listening intently to what her young son was saying before she let out a giggle and nodded, returning to her position.
"Well, actually called me mommy. But before I was called mommy I had another name, pumpkin. My name is Amanda, but at home they call me mommy or baba." Alex opened his eyes, surprised that his mother had another name besides "mommy."
"It's a pleasure, Amanda. I see all your names start with a vowel." Rossi was the first to speak, reaching out to shake Amanda's hand. "Your husband's too?"
"No, he's the exception." The femme admitted, beginning to wave to the round of people standing there.
For a couple of minutes, the group began a pleasant conversation where they talked about the time she was missing. They had jumped to the wildest conclusions, but they knew that at some point they would meet the mother of those two angels.
"Oh, I bought a lot of donuts now that I remember, do you like them? They're my husband's favorite." The woman walked over to the bag, from which she pulled out the box and smiled.
The group appreciated the gesture, beginning to receive and distribute the pastry among those present.
A chocolate-covered doughnut with sprinkles on top was received by each person.
Wait… Her husband's favorite?
Emily looked at the two little ones, then her gaze went to the young woman, then to the doughnut and her eyes went back to the little ones.
Emily could feel her head smoking from the way she worked.
No, it wasn't possible.
Spencer would have told her if it was.
"Excuse me, Amanda…" The mentioned one looked up, fixing her gaze on Emily as little Alex took small bites of his donut and shared it with his mother. "What-what did you say your husband's name was?"
"Oh! I didn't say it, actually." She admitted, taking a bite of the donut she was sharing with Alex. "His name is Spe-"
The answer interrupted by the shout Alex gave, turning away from his mother to run down the hallway for the new presence.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Spencer peered down the elevator, noticing how the small little man ran into his arms and pounced on him.
"Alex! What are you doing here, little one?" He carried the little guy, leaving a resounding kiss on his cheek and looked him in the face. His cheeks were covered with chocolate and his glasses were drooping gracefully down his nose. "Are you alone, who brought you?"
"Mom did!" The youngest was smiling happily, playing with his progenitor's hair. "Dad, did you know Mom has another name besides Mom, her name is Amanda!"
"Yes, buddy. I knew mommy's name was Amanda, but I affectionately call her Mandi."
"I thought you called her Mommy, not Mandi."
Spencer carried his little boy over to the cubicles, finding his work group/friends staring at him with stupefaction on their faces. He was sure their faces were perfect for being part of a surreal painting.
"Spence, surprise." Amanda approached the man, leaving a kiss on his lips and received her husband's kiss back.
"What are you two doing here?" Spencer looked at his family with some surprise.
"Three, daddy. Oli's here too" The little hand pointed toward the stroller, where the movement of the youngest of the Reid family could be heard.
Spencer walked over to the baby carriage, leaving the eldest of the Reid brothers on the floor and peeked out so he could see his little boy, his newest devotion.
"Hi Oli, are you awake yet? Daddy's here." Oliver watched his father with his big hazel eyes, moving his hands so he could reach one of his father's curls. "Hey, buddy. How big are you." The man took the little guy in his hands, drawing him into his body so he could carry him, smiling at the feel of his son's movement stopping as he began to pet him.
The whole group was silent, unable to believe that the youngest of their team had such a well-kept secret.
A wife and two children! How was it possible that even Emily hadn't known about this?
"Spencer…w-what is this? When did you intend to tell us? About your wife, about your children, about-about this!" Emily waved her hands around trying to take in the situation, feeling the pieces of the puzzle coming together on their own.
"I thought Hotch was going to tell you before he left." Spencer looked at the group of people, stopping his gaze on his wife who lifts her shoulders, trying to tell him "don't even look at me, I didn't say anything."
"Clearly he didn't say it" Jennifer looked at her best friend, trying to look as relaxed as possible, but it was impossible, I guess no one was trying to "act cool" at that moment.
"Well, I guess it's time to introduce you to my family." Amanda smiled, leaning against one of the desks as she watched Alex approach her. "This is Amanda, Amanda Reid, my wife" The young woman waved her hand, crossing her arms again with a smile on her mouth. She loved that he said my wife. "This is Alexander Reid and Oliver Reid, Alex and Oli of affection." Little Alex smiled, again waving to everyone with his hand and took what was left of the donut his mother offered him.
"How long have you been married?" Next to speak was Rossi, who felt Hotch had betrayed him by keeping that secret so long.
"Well, married… we've been married for five years. Dating we've been dating for seven…" Amanda turned to look at her husband.
"Seven years, five months and thirteen days." Spencer nodded, looking down at the baby who had just fallen asleep in his arms.
"So…" Matt looked over at Alexander, who looked amused eating the sprinkles on top of the donut.
"Yeah, Alex was a surprise. We knew we wanted to be parents, but we wanted to live together first, and well… The first night of living together caused Alex's arrival." Amanda laughed with her cheeks flushed, noticing how Spencer's cheeks were also filled with that crimson red. "Oli arrived after a couple of tries. We didn't want Alex to be alone and have to read all the books to himself."
"Now he reads Oli to sleep, like the good big brother he is" Spencer smiled, placing little Oliver in the most comfortable place to sleep.
After that confession, the pair settled in at the desk where the woman was sitting.
"I have so many questions I can't process, I really don't understand. So…how come we didn't see this in your apartment when you went to jail? We'd be completely blind if we hadn't noticed." Penelope had gotten to a good point, causing the friends to nod and the pair looked at each other before they could respond.
"It's because you guys went to Spence's old apartment." Amanda replied. "When we had Alex, we outgrew the apartment. We tried to look at an apartment in the same building, but they were all the same, so we pooled our paychecks and managed to rent a slightly larger apartment down the street from there. After Oliver came along we had to move to a bigger place." Spencer nodded, wiping the corner of his son's lip, which was full of chocolate. "But when Spence needs to focus, he goes to his old apartment to work. Diana was living there for a season and then she came to our house." The young woman pushed her hair back, feeling her husband's warm hand wrap around her hip.
The group was attentive to what they were saying, nodding at every word and concentrating on the story they had for them. Like little children, they formed around the young couple to follow their narrative.
"When Mexico and jail happened, it was really an ordeal. Hotch called us to get into the program with him and Jack, we had to go into hiding because we were Spencer's immediate family. Before Diana could hide she was kidnapped and, well, you know the rest of the story." Amanda's hand went to her son's hair, playing with the unruly locks of the scalp. They were exactly the same as his father's.
"But we would have known, I would have figured it out! H-how did you…?" Penelope was utterly convinced she would have found that information.
"It wasn't in the system." Spencer admitted. "I begged Hotch not to release it, it's manually, on paper. But online it's not, it was more likely to endanger my family." The young couple looked at each other and gave each other a smile. Sighing, Spencer continued. "Something like Foyet and Hotch would have happened, it was too dangerous. I wasn't willing to lose them and place them in danger."
Finally, the group of people began to understand, nodding at what he was saying and relaxing after that news.
"Spence had intended to tell them, but after Cat Adams, Scratch, Mexico, jail, Diana… I don't know when the time was right, to be honest with you." A collective chuckle filled the room echoing at that moment.
"Wow Spencer, you sure had this secret well hidden." Luke smiled, patting the younger man on the back, who was grinning broadly after breaking free of that secret that had him gnawing inside.
"Well, it's never too late to throw a welcome home party for the new family." Rossi smiled, moving closer to Amanda so he could hug her.
Mandi smiled receiving greetings from everyone, feeling like she was home.
"Good, then I'll start buying presents from now on. For both Oliver and Alex." Penelope smiled, receiving a wide smile from Alexander, who was the most excited to receive gifts. "I've missed so many birthdays and Christmases already."
"So…" Alex stole glances at everyone, who looked quite intrigued by his words. "Can I tell you aunties and uncles?"
That was the straw that broke the excitement level in the entire group, causing everyone to nod and smile broadly, feeling their chest heaving with joy.
"Did you see, Alex? Now you have lots of aunts and uncles to share, plus cousins." Spencer fell into step with his son, who was hugging him by the neck with a smile.
"That's right daddy, lots and lots!" The little boy turned to look at them all before stretching his arms out to hang around Luke's neck, who was greeting him with a smile that went so far as to make his cheeks ache.
The entire group stayed talking for a couple more minutes before deciding to head home to relax after a full day full of excitement.
Before she could get on the elevator, Emily smiled in the direction of the group of people.
"I think we know who his daddy is." Tara's whisper caused Emily to laugh and step onto the elevator, letting the doors close and signal the end of the work day.
The day had closed on a high note, not only for the capture of a criminal, but also for the discovery of a new family.
And Spencer couldn't be happier to finally reunite their families.
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If you like it, don't forget to like and repost it.
kissesssss, bai. 💕
#spencer reid#spencerreid#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencerreid!dad#mentioningmargins#spencer reid fanfiction#fluff#criminal minds imagine#omg this is so cute spencer!dad is absoluty cute#spencer reid fanfic
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It’s nice seeing more male reader blogs pop up, im excited to see what you’ll write in the future.
I’m requesting a Jax x male reader with the classic scenario of getting trapped in a small space together. An idea is that the group is on an adventure and the two gets pushed in by one of the things they are supposed to be capturing, but you can do whatever you’d like on how they got locked up in there. I’d also like to quickly request that the reader isn’t shy or anything, he has both bark and bite to his character yk? (You can make the reader dom or sub since it doesn’t really matter to me, but it would be appreciated if the reader is a dom in this story) Thanks!
"Hide And Seek."
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Author's Note: Thank you so much for the kind words :-) I love this request as well!
Genre: Smut (18+)
Pairings: Jax (The Amazing Digital Circus) x You (Male Reader)
Warnings: None, other than sex obviously.
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“We’re doing what?”
Pomni inquired, her head tilted in confusion with her finger beside her cheek. ‘How very animated of her’ you thought in observation.
“A classic game of hide and seek! Because if I sit here for any longer and continue to think I’ll blow my f@%#ing brains out!”
Ragatha smiled, almost in a threatening way. You nodded at her explanation, you’ve been stuck here long enough to understand how not to think too hard about reality turning out to be a hoax. “--Not counting!” Jax's' ears shot up as he quickly put his index finger on his nose. You followed his action as quickly as possible. Then Gangle, Kinger, Zooble, Ragatha, aaaaaaaaand…
“Suck it Pomni!”
Jax cackled, taking your hand and running off. You had realized you had taken a liking to Jax and he of course reciprocated those same feelings. You weren’t sure if he was entirely attracted to you like you were to him – but he wasn’t a very subtle guy. You look back and see everyone scatter as if someone just broke a bottle of alcohol on the floor. Pomni groaned and lay flat on the floor, her arms and legs spread out as she counted out loud.
“1….2…3…-” Her counting continued as you searched around with Jax for a possible hiding spot. Something great, something that would take hours! Somewhere...private. You were only a man, why not take this opportunity to be in such a closed-off space with him? “Psst!” Jax motioned for a small closet in a hidden-ish area. You grinned, letting out a mischievous giggle with him as you rushed in, tugging him with you by his overall straps.
Now it was dark.
“Where is this even in the circus?” You whispered, realizing you weren’t sure where you two had run off to. “No idea, it’s good though. Right?” You felt him turn to you, his ears flowing with the turn a second after. You nodded and smiled at him, he somehow smiled wider. Your head quickly whipped to the door – thinking you heard a noise. “Wha-” Jax gave an attempt to talk but you swiftly covered his mouth. His ears perked up, hearing Pomni's' footsteps.
“Helllloooo?” She called out, her tone of voice seemed more freaked out than playful like it should have been. She didn’t enjoy being alone here. You and Jax both held your... breath? And waited for Pomni to pass by.
..her footsteps passed. You both let out a sigh of relief. “Hold on.” You whispered, lifting yourself slightly to check outside of the door. Before you could check you felt the doorknob fail on you. “Jax?! There was a lock on this door??” You whisper-yelled. Jax shot up, hitting his head against something and letting out a hiss, then covered his mouth. You both stood still, looking at each other with terrified eyes. Once about 30 seconds passed, you gave him an irritated look.
“Hey! Don’t look at me like that! I had no idea!” He said still in a hushed tone. “Where are your thousand keys?!” You let go of the doorknob and poke his chest aggressively. He shrugged, his shit-eating grin still plastered on his face as his ears lowered and his hands up in defense.
“Dude.” You push him down as he lands on his ass, legs spread. “Oh c’mon sweetheart, I seriously had no idea!” He pleaded crawling over to you. You huffed and sat in the opposite corner with your arms crossed. Yeah, you wanted to be in a dark and private area with him, but with the ability to come out at some point! Stupid ass rabbit. Jax giggled quietly as he got closer to you, “You don’t wanna be stuck in here with me?” He said in a low voice, his eyes squinting with his wide smile.
You learned that not only does Jax…really like you but he’s extremely touch-starved. When you showed him affection the first time he never stopped touching you.
“No, nobody would enjoy this.”
“Except you.”
“Why me?”
“Cause I’m your favorite.”
“Your ego is high.”
“You're my favorite.”
“I know.”
You felt two big hands on your thighs, your legs naturally spread for them. Yikes. The only problem Jax had was your clothes being on your body, which were currently being removed. “Jax.” Why were you trying to stop him? You didn’t want him to, but you also wanted to see how desperate he’d get once he took all your clothes off. It’s probably been years since he’d got to be buried in anything. He shoved his body against you, almost aggressively trying to be as close to you as possible. “It’s cold.”
Great, your clothes were off, now your ass was bare on the floor. “Hey, handsome,” Jax whispered into your ear, suddenly wrapping his hand around your cock. You jolted and uncrossed your arms quickly to wrap your arms around him. “Whaaaat?” You whined quietly, shoving your head into his neck.
“You wanted us to get stuck in here, didn’t you? You slut.” ‘Fuck him, oh god. Fuck.’ You held onto him tighter, his degrading words heading straight to your cock. Which he felt in his hand as he continued to move his hand faster and faster up and down.. 'up and down..aah..up and down..fuck..’ -- “Jax..!” You moan in his ear, a little louder than you should have. He stopped his hand, letting out entirely. “No!” You whisper yell, bucking your hips in the hair for something. “Please- Jax. C’mon!” He grabbed your face and pulled you closer to his face. “Shut the f#%! up, do you want Caine to catch us?” He scolded, and you shook your head.
You looked up at him pleadingly, tugging at his overalls. “Mmhh…m’sorry.” You heard Jax giggle again. “Good boy.” He allowed you to take his overalls off finally, sliding them down just below his waist to reveal himself.
You weren’t gonna ask why you had genitals, but you weren’t going to complain. He took your leg, lifting it over his shoulder. ‘God, finally.’ You thought, covering your mouth with one hand as you looked down to watch him slide into you. You squeaked as he made his way inside you, whispering his name over and over again as if it were a spell and you were wishing for something to happen. The moment he felt himself settle inside you he processed the feeling. You were so warm, fuck so warm. He needed more, god he needed more. Jax leaned over, gripped your hips, and dug his face into your shoulder still with your leg on his as he slammed his hips into you. You dig your nails into his back, a desperate whiney moan leaving your throat.
“Fuck you feel so good. you feel so good. you feel so good. you feel so good–”
You wanted to giggle at his actions but the way he was plowing himself into you wouldn’t let you speak, so you grabbed his ears and tugged onto them to pull him away from your shoulder which was full of drool. He let out a high-pitched moan, his cartoonish eyes rolling back. ‘Didn’t he say to be quiet?’ You managed to think, feeling your climax coming closer and closer with each aggressive thrust into your hips. As soon as you let go of his ears his head shot back to your shoulder like a magnet. Suddenly he bit down, shoving his cock deep inside you and cumming inside without warning.
You gasped at the new warmth and wrapped your hand around his throat as if to punish him – but that kinky little shit enjoyed it. He kept his hips moving, slightly slower than before as you felt your high coming in rapidly. Your quiet moans began louder and louder, squeezing your grip around Jax’s throat. You arched your back and made an absolute fucking mess of yourself. You came all over your stomach, scratching at Jax’s arm to make him stop moving his hips as the overstimulation became uncomfortable. He slowed his hips down soon, pulling out and taking a good look at you.
“..thanks.” He huffed, wiping the drool from his chin and eyeing you up and down. You roll your eyes, catching your breath. “You needed that.” You tease, holding his face gently and rubbing your thumb against his cheek.
What a silly rabbit.
#tadc smut#jax x reader#tadc x male reader#jax tadc smut#tadc jax x reader#the amazing digital circus smut#the amazing digital circus x reader#the amazing digital circus jax smut#the amazing digital circus jax#jax smut#jax x male reader#jax x male reader smut#x male reader smut#x male reader#gay#gay smut#fanfiction#x male reader fanfiction
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Jupiter's Boundlessness: The Union of Good & Evil
Something I have noticed for a long time is how Jupiter natives often play multiple roles within a single project. Be it movies or music videos, I often see them channelling the boundlessness of Jupiter by literally embodying several characters. As Claire Nakti explored in her Jupiter makeover video, duality and transformation are huge themes in the lives of Jupiter natives. This duality is not just a light vs dark one but also a masculine versus feminine one. Jupiter women especially being internally masculine often channel this in different ways. But beyond the "duality" is the "multiplicity", because of their vast, internal spaciousness they feel as though they are many many different people with many different interests and abilities. This is why Jupiter natives are kind and generous because their vastness allows them to literally put themselves in the shoes of others but it can also feel very confusing and tiring. You stretch yourself that wide, you might snap, feel empty and burnt out because you feel so chained by being a very limited narrow definition of "you".
Mariah Carey, Punarvasu Moon
She plays both herself and her obsessive stalker (based on Eminem) in her MV for Obsessed
She fights the evil brunette version of herself in her MV for Heartbreaker
She also has an alter ego named Bianca who is the opposite of her and even speaks with a British accent lmao
Here is a clip of Mariah being interviewed by her alter ego Bianca
In fact, I'd say that having an alter ego is in itself kind of a Jupiterean experience since these natives embody duality or feel like they contain so many contradictory energies or that they're "opposites".
Miley Cyrus, Vishaka Moon plays Miley and Hannah on Hannah Montana, a whole show that revolves around a girl trying to manage her alter ego.
Dua Lipa, Punarvasu Moon battles with her other self in her MV for IDGAF
Troye Sivan, Punarvasu Rising plays a female version of himself in the MV for his song One of Your Girls
Ruby Rose, Punarvasu Moon, Swati Rising captures her transformation from a traditional feminine woman to her more butch androgynous self in Break Free
youtube
Destiny's Child's mv for Lose My Breath features the trio battling their alter egos. Beyonce- Vishaka Moon, Michelle- Punarvasu Moon and Kelly- Swati Rising
I'm including Swati placements as well because I think Swati also closely embodies this Jupiterean boundlessness or multiplicity
Beyonce, Vishaka Moon also has an alter ego named Sasha Fierce and like many Jupiter women who talk about wanting to be a man/embrace their masculinity/channel this in some way, she has a song called "If I Were A Boy"
Avril Lavigne, Swati Moon played multiple versions of herself in the MV for her song Girlfriend
Halsey, Punarvasu Moon and Swati stellium has such a wide ranging style, all their looks are completely unlike each other. I associate it with the chaos of Rahu more than Punarvasu but I do think the Jupiter influence also adds to it. They've also talked a lot about not identifying with gender/struggling with it and even has a song titled "I'm not a woman, I'm a god".
The Weeknd, Vishaka Moon, Punarvasu Rising
"The Weeknd" is the alter ego of Abel Tesfaye and he has talked about "killing his alter ego" many times
youtube
In this MV we see him battling his alter ego.
I think it's important to note that Jupiter natives are always battling their other half/shadow in all these examples. One is good and the other is bad. It points to the nature of Jupiter where all contradictions exist. Being that vast and expansive can mean being generous, compassionate etc but it can also mean feeling empty and vacuous. The extremes of anything is a meeting point for its opposite. Jupiter is abundance but its also the storehouse of karma. Do you notice how some people just have lives that are full of sooo many crazy experiences, both good and bad? Some people just don't have much going on and others always seem to be handled the short end of the stick. The bigger the planet, the bigger the shadow. The bigger the blessings, the bigger the burdens.
Suga's (Purvabhadrapada Sun) MV for Daechwita sees him play both king and peasant and both of them battle each other.
He also has multiple alter egos (SUGA & Agust D)
Here is a translation of some of the lyrics from the song:
"I got everything I wanted. What else can I have to be satisfied?
The things I wanted were clothes clothes, then money money, then goal goal, what’s after this?
What’s after this? Feeling a strong feeling of reality check, a situation where there’s nothing higher.
I had only looked up, now I just wanna look down and gently land."
Finding success meaningless is a VERY Jupiter experience. Abel sings about it a lot as well. Others work on accumulating things and its hard for them to imagine the kind of boundlessness of Jupiter, both in terms of latent potential but also in terms of the scale and expanse of what these natives achieve. If you had it all, would you find it empty and meaningless? I think a lot of Jupiter natives hold themselves back because of this, because they know the journey is more fun than the destination, that actually achieving your goals can be hella scary.
P!nk, Mars in Punarvasu atmakaraka battles herself in the MV for Don't Let Me Get Me
The lyrics go like:
"I'm a hazard to myself
Don't let me get me
I'm my own worst enemy
It's bad when you annoy yourself
So irritating
Don't wanna be my friend no more
I wanna be somebody else
I wanna be somebody else, yeah"
"So doctor, doctor, won't you please prescribe me something?
A day in the life of someone else"
The Jupiterean urge to be many people/somebody else is so revealing of their nature. They're always at odds with each other. Masculine & Feminine. Light & Shadow. Plus the boundlessness and abundance of Jupiter making you feel like you've transcended humanity and are akin to God (sooo many Jupitereans, esp men have a God complex its not even funny lol)
Its no wonder that so many Jupiter women often suffer from bipolar disorder. Bipolarity meaning swinging between extremes. This is literally the nature of Jupiter. Its a hard energy to balance.
(Mariah Carey & Halsey- Punarvasu Moon both have bipolar disorder, Kanye West- Purvabhadrapada Moon also has bipolar disorder Chyler Leigh- Vishaka Moon, Mel Gibson- Punarvasu Rising are all celebs who have admitted to suffering from bipolar disorder)
I am not a medical professional and neither am I going to assign mental disorders to different nakshatras BUT when I say imbalanced Jupiter energy manifests as bipolarity, I am pointing to the nature of Jupiter which makes its natives swing between extremes. Its a struggle to manage this and navigate this, no doubt.
Lisa Kudrow, Punarvasu Rising who played Phoebe and her evil twin Ursula
What's Your Rashee? is a 2009 Bollywood movie starring Priyanka Chopra, Punarvasu Sun who plays 12 different characters each representing a different rashi or zodiac sign
Kamal Hassan, Purvabhadrapada Moon played 10 different characters in the movie Dhashavataram (referencing the ten different avatars of Vishnu). He played the bad guy, the good guy and all the other guys.
This again points to not just the duality but also the multiplicity of Jupiter and literally being many different people.
Katy Perry, Vishaka Moon plays many different characters in her MV for Birthday
Vikram, Purvabhadrapada Moon plays 4+ different characters in the movie "I"
David Bowie, Jupiter in Vishaka atmakaraka, Shatabhisha Rising
Bowie had sooo many alter egos/personas, morphing from the flame-haired Aladdin Sane — a spin on “A Lad Insane” — to the clean-cut Thin White Duke with the greatest of ease. But his most famous alter ego was the androgynous alien rock star Ziggy Stardust who transported us to a glam galaxy far, far away in 1972 and 1973.
Lady Gaga, Swati Moon
"Lady Gaga" is in itself an alter ego as is being Mother Monster but she also has a male alter ego named Jo Calderone. She became Jo Calderone for her “You and I” video in 2011. The singer even went to the MTV VMAs that same year as Jo, walking the red carpet, opening the show, performing and sitting in the audience as the character.
The 1991 movie Dead Again stars Emma Thompson, Punarvasu Moon and Kenneth Branagh, Mars in Punarvasu 1h as two people who have double lives/past lives, the plot in itself is super Punarvasu coded with the same people playing multiple characters across multiple timelines (Punarvasu's deity is the personification of space and time)
Lily Tomlin, Punarvasu Rising plays 3 different characters in the movie The Incredible Shrinking Woman
Tatiana Maslany, Punarvasu Rising played many many different characters on the show Orphan Black.
The series focuses on Sarah Manning, one of several genetically identical human clones, and later on some of the other clones. The series raises issues about the moral and ethical implications of human cloning and its effect on identity. I had previously observed in an old post about how Punarvasu & Swati are connected to cloning and this is yet another example of the boundlessness of these energies.
Tom Cavanagh, Swati Sun, Venus in Vishaka atmakaraka played 15 different versions of his character in The Flash
Rachel Weisz, Purvabhadrapada Moon played both Evelyn and Princess Nefertiti in The Mummy Returns
Hugo Weaving, Punarvasu Moon, Purvabhadrapada Stellium (mercury, venus and ketu) played 6 different characters in Cloud Atlas
In Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey, Alex Winter, Punarvasu Sun & Keanu Reeves, Punarvasu Moon play their evil versions.
The plot itself is very Punarvasu coded with Bill & Ted, two metalhead slacker friends who travel through time and beyond while trying to fulfil their destiny to establish a utopian society in the universe with their music.
Deepika Padukone, Swati Moon and Shahrukh Khan, Swati Sun played double roles as lovers who are reincarnated in a different time.
Jupiter is the guru or teacher. To be many things is what Jupiter teaches. It is kind of like being God and if one were to raise philosophical questions, you'd have to ask why did God create both good and evil? Why did he create joy and misery? There is no other answer except that one cannot exist without the other. Jupiter embodies this.
I hope this post shed some light on one manifestation of the boundlessness of Jupiter<33
xx
#astrology notes#astrology observations#vedic astro notes#sidereal astrology#nakshatras#astrology#vedic astrology#astro observations#astro notes#astroblr#jyotish#vedic astro#punarvasu#purvabhadrapada#vishaka#jupiter#swati#rahu
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When Jasy Whistles (Webcomic)
Created by: Cibeles
Genre: Fantasy/Romance
You probably have seen this one around, but I did find it very unique in terms of the worldbuilding. It can be admittedly fairly slow in some points in terms of pacing though actually the thing I enjoyed the most out of the series was seeing Jasy's siblings and learning more about them. Currently as of writing this, the story has finished its second season and the creator is working on it's third and final season.
The story starts out with Hela, a girl who lives in an traditional/ relatively isolated town outside of modern things who wants to take after her grandmother and become the chief of her town one day. Hela's best friend Rodri is one day taken away by one of the demigods, Jasy, and Hela goes to get him back. Jasy needs a human to help him get through the gate as a demigod like himself is not able to, and promises that if he makes a pact with Hela and gets through, she will be able to get Rodri back. Hela is very suspicious of Jasy as not only did he kidnap her best friend, but there are folk stories about how you should not follow Jasy's whistle, as it lures them somewhere bad. However, with no other way to get Rodri back, Hela accepts the pact and they go on their adventure. They are attacked by one of Jasy's half brothers, Ao Ao, a beast that eats everything and gives birth to children with only the desire to consume. As Jasy is not able to hurt his siblings, Hela must be the one to protect him using her skills in archery. They are able to escape and slowly walk through the land itself. There they meet other people there, trapped under strange circumstances. All of them are cursed to grow until they are adults and are never able to grow old, all while still having to sustain themselves on the few resources they have in the land. Hela wishes to open the gate and free the people there, as they are all fighting over the resources, while Jasy doesn't seem to care whatsoever, as he has a distrust of humans after the previous one betrayed him while trying to open the gate. Despite this, Jasy is able to mostly have amends with the people there, and even meets another sibling of Jasy's, willing to give her face to him so as long as they can go through to the gate safely. In the end, this brother instead wants to have Jasy's face, something that he willingly trades over Hela's, so as long as Hela can stay alive. Hela eventually reaches the gate where she sacrifices herself to open it and allow the people into the land. This greatly affects Jasy as he suddenly realizes how much he had cared for and loves her. To get her back, Jasy goes into the spirit realm to try to save her, and he's able to see her past with Rodri. Jasy is fully willing to stay with her in this forever loop of her childhood, but the two of them eventually come back into the world, and now having opened the world so the humans can go in, recover there afterwards. Jasy and Hela continue to love each other in their honeymoon phase, until Jasy is captured by humans. Hela finds out the humans that caught him are under the leadership of Rodrigo's mother, who had been missing for a while, chasing after treasures. We find out that she is the human that betrayed Jasy initially and attempts to get Hela to shoot him, only for her to free him. The last couple of chapters reveals that Mboi Tu'i, the sibling that has taken care of the realm is actually Rodrigo in some way and wants to take Hela away.
So I will say right now I don't really know that much about South American mythos, so there's a lot of things that go over my head in terms of references or how each type of god acted, but I do feel that I did have a good understanding on how each of Tau's children acted and the kind of possible personalities that they have. It's definitely a unique take on mythos that we don't normally see. The artwork as well is very gorgeous, the characters are very pretty and I'm a fan of the more monster designs of the siblings as well, seeing how each of them came to be and just how much they have to suffer. The world that Jasy and Hela go into is very cool, the idea of humans that basically can live forever is both a blessing and a curse, as they cannot reproduce and they still have to eat and fight for territory. I think my favorite of his brothers is probably Kurupi because I really do like sad monster boys that are shunned because of their appearance. Compared to his more real life depictions in myths he's a lot more sympathetic and tragic, so it's nice to see those incorporated in there. The entire plot seems to eventually go to deal with Tau, Jasy's father, in some point in the future.
Still, despite this, I feel like the plot at times can be really slow. There are good moments like when Hela helps out the people who are in stuck fighting each other and we see the dynamic of the world, as well as the aforementioned lore of all of Jasy's siblings, but the actual development of Hela and Jasy's relationship is slow, all things considered. Initially, Jasy and Hela are more like enemies, as Hela is extremely suspicious of Jasy and vice versa, only cooperating with each other because they need each other's help. Still as the story goes on the two of them fall for each other and slowly develop feelings for each other. This isn't necessarily done in a bad way, but it is incredibly slow and honestly lost my attention a lot of the times. I'm also a bit surprised that Hela wasn't more resistant considering Jasy actually did kidnap Rodri and only promised to give him back if she cooperated. While again, the romantic moments were fairly cute, they aren't all that interesting to me and to be honest, I'd rather see the actual worldbuilding that the two go through rather than their relationship. Hela as a main character focuses mostly on her desire to run her tribe, and while she initially is fairly competent and active in the story, shooting a lot of Ao Ao's children, she ends up having to rely a lot of Jasy to save her, especially since she ends up losing her bow and arrow after a while. I actually straight up forgot that she could do archery at the end when Hela was forced by her aunt to kill Jasy, which is probably not a great sign. I don't think she's the worst MC in these stories because she does have a lot of interesting points to her, but it does feel like she was hamstringed after a bit, with a bunch of chapters after Hela dies and is revived pretty much being carried around by Jasy as she recuperates. She does have a fairly strong conviction of not only bringing back Rodri but her connection to her grandmother, as well as the development to allow herself to finally decide things for herself without having it taken away from him, but I still feel like she could have used a bit more agency in the story itself.
Jasy as a yandere doesn't actually start out as one so we actually see the kind of decent he gets into. He is a rather light yandere all things considered, but it is always fun to see them descend into yandere behavior nevertheless. Like I said before, Jasy and Hela have a bit of a tumultuous relationship at first with the two of them begrudgingly forced to help each other, while slowly learning to understand each other a bit more. Jasy doesn't understand why Hela would go so far to save Rodri and later the humans that are trapped but has to go along with her anyways since she's the key to him getting through the gate. By the time he does reach the gate, and Hela sacrifices herself, he starts to realize the error of his ways- while initially he viewed her as a tool to open the gate, he now starts to realize that he actually did care about her, and more deeply love her, even to the point of going to the realm of the dead to find her. He even so much is willing to loop over and over Hela's favorite childhood memories forever so as long as they are together. When Jasy does finally retrieve her, the two of them basically have a honeymoon together, where Jasy is extremely doting on her. We do see some of bits of jealousy earlier with Jasy, such as when one of the guys of offhandedly suggests that Hela is actually pretty attractive, but it doesn't really come to full fruition until after she dies. It's a bit hard to say right now exactly how far he'll go considering it feels like it's just the beginning of the yandere arc for Jasy, but it at least is a start. Not sure how far they'll ramp it up in the third and last season, if at all. Like I said though, it's still pretty light and it's very possible that it might stay that way, though with Rodri's reveal, it could also very well go on a darker path.
Overall, I was pretty surprised at the story, but I do have split opinions on it. The worldbuilding and the mythos of the monsters are really interesting and a definite unique take that I haven't personally seen as much before, but I find that the story and pacing for the characters are pretty tedious and dragging at times. Still, it's extremely beautiful and the story itself is something unique to experience if you are interested in such things.
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The Gaang being 'bad parents' didn't ruin their characters.
I've seen this argument tossed around a couple times and it's honestly one of my least favourite criticisms of lok.
Katara (and Sokka but we have no confirmed kids for him, which seems unrealistic with how much game he had) lost their mother as children and their father was forced to abandon them when they were barely starting their teens. They were raised by their grandmother with little to no peers of their own age.
Aang did not know his parents and a huge chunk of his childhood was him being groomed into taking up the mantle of the avatar and mastering airbending. He also was isolated from other kids his age. His closest parental figure was Gyatso who was more of a teacher than a father. Also the Air Nomads were literally wiped out so that adds to the trauma pile.
I really don't think i have to talk about Zuko's family life here, but at least he had relatively positive parental figures in the form of Ursa (though i do have a burning personal dislike of ursa) and Iroh. Despite this his struggle around the subject of his family and his trauma relating to his upbringing was a focal point of his character arc.
Toph was raised in isolation by her asshole abelist parents who did not listen to her, sent people to capture and bring her back and then disowned her. (If my cursory understanding of 'the rift' is correct, I need to actually read it because i am unreasonably obsessed with the Beifong family.)
Where, pray tell, were they supposed to learn proper parenting skills? On their brief stint as child soldiers? While fighting a war as literal children?
There is the argument that they must've matured later in their lives, of course. But you can only recover so much from copious amounts of childhood trauma.
Being a bad parent doesn't necessarily make you a bad person. Sure it makes you a failure in an incredibly delicate and important aspect of human life but it doesn't make you a bad person. And saying that it does takes a lot of nuance out of the conversation.
Like, do you know how easy it is to fuck up a child?
Especially that the ways the members of the Gaang 'fucked up' as parents feel mostly in character.
Bumi was going to face some struggles with self worth due to being the firstborn child of the Avatar and arguably one of the most powerful waterbenders in history, while being a nonbender himself. That much was unavoidable, no matter how his parents approached the issue.
And Aang was obviously going to be over the moon when Tenzin was born. Think about it. He's literally the last of his people. He has no one else 'like him'. No one else to pass down the traditions, the teachings that Gyatso and everyone else he cared about and who were horrifically murdered to. Aang is getting older and he feels like his culture and history and his entire life before he got trapped in that damned iceberg will die along with him. And then Tenzin is born and Tenzin can take up the mantle that had been thrust upon Aang.
I'm going to withhold my judgement on Izumi and Zuko, since we barely know anything about them. She seems well adjusted but that's all i can say right now. But Zuko has also been shown to be extremely, painfully aware of how fucked up his family is and has clearly been putting in a lot of work to unscrew what his ancestors have screwed up.
Toph situation feels very tragic to me,because it's obvious that she thought she thought she was doing better than her parents. She gave her daughters the freedom to do what they want, to not feel opressed and trapped like she had. How was she supposed to know that she was making her girls feel like she didn't love them? (Here's another post of mine about the Beifong family and how they just feel like they're cursed or something at this point.)
TLDR; I get annoyed by people saying that the Gaang being 'bad parents' ruined their characters, because to me it felt like it actually enhanced them.
Neither Aang nor Toph acted out of malice or a lack of love. On the contrary, Toph was trying not to repeat her parents mistakes, accidentally committing a bunch of her own. While Aang probably didn't even realise that he was neglecting Kya and Bumi.
But just loving your children doesn't always make you a good parent.
I think these flaws only add to them as characters. It makes them feel more real.
It's unrealistic and, frankly, just plain boring to go 'oh the Gaang were all good people so they would be good parents too.'
The Gaang were a gaggle of traumatised children forced into saving the world, because the adults around them failed them, that then grew into traumatised adults who have no idea how to be good parents.
#badly voicing my thoughts#avatar legend of korra#i know i did not write this out correctly but it is like 3 am and i am tired and mad and stressed#avatar#avatar: the last airbender#the last airbender#legend of korra#aang#avatar aang#katara#sokka#toph#toph beifong#zuko#ursa#iroh#bumi ii#kya ii#tenzin#firelord izumi#lin beifong#suyin beifong#the beifong family#the beifongs#wow look at all these traumatised people
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thomas wayne au excerpts - things that could've been part of a grander fic except there's no grander fic
thomas wayne au - an au i made last year where danny is literally just. thomas wayne. his full name was Daniel Thomas Fenton and he started going by Thomas Nightingale after he was disowned. because of course. here is a link to the first post if anyone wants to see a more in depth view of the au (its also the start of me using the ‘danny fenton is not the ghost king’ au lmao
additional info: bruce is the result of a failed cloning attempt from vlad - vlad used a combination of danny's dna and an unnamed girl (Martha's) to make him to try and balance out the ectoplasm use. this resulted in a slightly liminal but otherwise completely human and stable baby boy. Bruce is, by all accounts, Danny's biological son. Danny named him Bruce
Danny was 24 when he died, he took in Bruce when he was 16. He is, so far, a single father in this au. (But if I WERE to add martha she wouldn't be sam or a DP character but rather a separate character on her own.)
Essentially they would go as:
Martha, 19: water does terrifying things to corpses
Danny, 19, half ghost: *heart eyes* really? tell me more
they're morticia and gomez your honor
---- Like starlight -----
Bruce's father could light up a room. He was like a sun, his gravitational field could just pull you in, and before you knew it you'd be orbiting around him like one of his many planets.
He's seen it in action before, in the rare moments Thomas Wayne would allow him to accompany him to the socialite events he went to; the fundraisers; the charities. Bruce, as tall as his father's waist, would cling to his leg and watch as people drifted towards him and his star-blinding smile.
It's fitting that his father's favorite thing in the world were stars, he fit right in with them.
As an adult, Bruce has tried copious amount of times to mimic him. To try and capture a fraction of that light, that charm, in his own act - but here's the thing. Thomas Wayne wasn't made of starlight only in front of the cameras, he was made of starlight outside of it as well.
(So when older socialites laugh and tell him he's so much like his father, Bruce just thinks they are liars. They've only ever seen the Thomas Wayne his father showed them, Bruce is nothing like his father.)
In the manor, whatever room he stepped into seemed to brighten, and maybe it was just Bruce's own child-memory fuzzing it to raise his father onto a pedestal, but he stands by it. His father was a solar system, his very own galaxy. Bruce was just the lucky planet that was close enough to orbit him.
--------- arrival time ------
Ancients, ancients, what the fuck convinced Danny to ever go to Gotham of all places? Crime Capitol of the world? He's not sure, but he's been wandering around the country for the last few months, swapping between flying late at night as Phantom, and taking the busses and trains when he had the money, and was too exhausted to fly.
And of course, what convinced him to come here with his kid no less, who was just at the cusp of turning a year old? Whose curiosity of the world was growing greater by the day? Who wanted to look around and explore, and was growing tired of being held at all hours of the day by his father.
But he was going to be held, at least for as long as they were in Gotham for. He didn't trust the stuff on the sidewalks, and he didn't trust the people walking on it. Bruce was tiny, and Danny would lose his mind if he lost him in a crowd.
In his arms, Bruce whined and wriggled, pushing at his shoulders in the signature way he did when he wanted to be let down. Danny tightened his hold, and adjusted his place on his hip.
"I know, bumblebee." Danny muttered, resting his chin on Bruce's small head. His hair was still thin, but it was dark and soft, and tickled his throat a little. "But not yet, I need to find somewhere for us to stay first."
He needed to find somewhere for them to stay, permanently. He couldn't keep living like this, and he couldn't let Bruce grow up like this either. Constantly moving, homeless, unsure of when he was going to eat next? It wasn't good for him. But he needed to find a city he liked, and after that? He wasn't sure. Where did he start?
But Bruce doesn't like his answer, he whines at him, louder, and his wriggling increases. He wants down, he wants to move. They were in a new place again, he wanted to explore. He's too little to fully understand what his dad's saying. "Dada." He said, his voice thick with the accent of a child first learning to speak.
"I know," Danny repeats, stressing the word as his eyes flitted about. There was a park nearby -- maybe he and Bruce could stop there for a bit. Bruce could move around, and Danny could figure out his next move.
It was getting dark, he didn't want to be out in Gotham when it was dark. Shuffling, he moved the inside of his jacket to wrap around Bruce better. It was getting cold, too. Last winter with Bruce had been hellish - Bruce's liminality meant that Danny's immunity to the cold hadn't been passed down to him. Danny had spent all winter terrified that Bruce was going to get sick and die. He didn't want to go through that stress again, especially now that Bruce would be moving.
He hoped they could find new living arrangements soon.
---- dniwer eht klolc - clockwork's conversation ---
Laughing quietly as Bruce ran out of the room, Danny turned his attention back to the mirror, his fingers curled around the knot of his tie. They'd been planning this outing for weeks since the movie was first announced, and Danny wasn't going to let anything ruin tonight.
Humming under his breath, his hands fell from his tie and he steps back. They were leaving in half an hour, at best, but experience from the last six years has taught Danny that he wants to be ready before then.
In his reflection, the clock behind him stops ticking, and a wave of nothing washes over him, a subtle shift he's gotten used to that was the sensation of time stopping. Ticking, soft and coming from all four sides of the room, filled his ears.
Danny's smile drops. And behind him, Clockwork swirled into existence like a blackhole reversing its pull. "Don't go out tonight, Thomas." He says, his voice stern.
That wasn't happening.
He reaches up to push back a loose strand of hair out of his face. "Does something happen to Bruce, Clockwork?" He asks, his voice deceptively calm. That would be the only reason he would postpone tonight. If it endangered Bruce, then he would just have to break the news to him that they'd have to go tomorrow.
In the reflection, Clockwork's lips thinned, pressing together tersely. He looked tense, the grip on his staff was tight, tighter than Danny's seen it before in recent years. And it worried him a little.
Clockwork is silent for a few seconds, hesitant, before he finally speaks. "No, Bruce will be fine." He says, and uncharacteristic of him, he shuffles, "But--"
Ah, good then. Danny's smile returns briefly across his face. Then it could be something Danny can handle. "But nothing then, Clockwork." He says, interrupting the Ancient firmly. He leans back slightly to look over himself again in the mirror, before going to undo his tie. He's changed his mind about it.
"Boo has been looking forward to our movie all week, I'm not crushing his hopes by changing my mind last minute." In just a few seconds the tie was off his neck and tossed onto bed behind him. And Danny was reaching over the dresser beside him to grab a pearl necklace, he normally didn't wear it, it belonged to Mrs. Wayne and he inherited it after she and Mr. Wayne passed away last year. It wouldn't hurt to wear it for a special occasion like this.
Clockwork's lips tightened, and his shoulders tensed up. "Thomas," He says lowly, "Please."
...Clockwork never said please. Danny's never heard him say please in the last ten years he's known him. This... must have been pretty serious -- but, his core tugged at him. He couldn't cancel without finding the reason why. Bruce was so important to him, Danny couldn't break his heart with this without learning why. He wouldn't allow it, and neither would his core.
He hooks the necklace around his neck and turns to face Clockwork, frowning deeply. "Does something happen tonight?" If he knew the reason -- he just needed to know the reason.
Clockwork stares at him, and something that Danny can't catch appears across his face. "...I cannot tell you." He says after a long moment, his voice quiet.
That... is not the answer Danny wants. He won't cancel.
He frowns. "If something happens tonight..." He says slowly -- Clockwork said that Bruce is unharmed. That must mean Danny was able to handle it. He allows himself to smile reassuringly, and he steps forward to clap a hand on Clockwork's shoulder. "Then I will handle it, alright? I promise."
He gets no response back. Clockwork's expression unreadable as he nods silently - Danny's anxiety curls in his gut. He's being so unlike himself. But he shakes Clockwork's shoulder gently and steps around him, leaving the room.
After a minute, he feels time return to normal.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#dp crossover#dpdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dc x dp#dp dc#dp dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#danny is thomas wayne au#danny calling bruce 'bumblebee' >>>>>#he adores his kid man. absolutely loves him. he'd give him the world on a silver platter if he even so much asked.#dont have many tag thoughts for this au unfortunately. its pr straight forward considering danny is going to die when bruce is eight#left the movie they went to see pr ambiguous since mark of zorro came out in 1940#only thought of it now that danny wore the pearls as i was writing this. just for the extra reference to canon#single dad danny#martha and danny would fall in love with each other via hyperfixations. they'd be engaged by the time they died.#their wedding would be in a month - little bruce was gonna be ringbearer at his dad's wedding :) and he'd already be calling Martha mom#danny: CW said bruce was unharmed tonight so everything will be fine :) i will handle it.#danny: dies and becomes a whalefall - and thus incapable of returning as a ghost to watch over bruce#yeah clockwork meant physically unharmed. he was in pain while talking to danny - his boy was gonna die tonight and he was never gonna see#him again bc danny wasnt coming back as a ghost.
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Lifechanger - DEMO
Lifechanger is a 18+ real-life romantic drama where you'll play as a teacher who just started a job at a special school.
Content warnings: explicit language, (possible) mention of child abuse, mental health and (possible) unhealthy relationship.
The content warnings may change!
A few days ago you got a job offer at a pretty famous school, the Smith's Academy. You get a good salary, you live only 20 minutes away from the school, and you get a big starting bonus. Sounds perfect, right? Well, it is not as good as it seems at first.
This school is for troublemakers. The bad ones. Most of the kids are misunderstood, some are born evil and others just have the worst parents who put them in this school for no good reason. They all have one thing in common, they make the school feel like hell on earth. Not only the children will make your life harder, but also some of the adults are quite the challenges. This story focuses on relationships and mental health.
This job will change your life forever, whether it's for the better or the worse will depend on your choices. Welcome to Lifechanger.
Character Customisation. Choose your appearance and gender, and choose one of the 3 backstories. Will you deal with your past or let it consume you?
Play as a teacher. Choose between 3 students you can meet. Change their life for the better or the worse.
Romance. Romance your charming boss, an elegant co-worker, or a sweet mother of one of your students.
Complex Relationships: Everyone has secrets perhaps; someday they will come to light. Can you truly get to know your lover and friends?
See how your actions change the actions of those around you, good or bad. One thing is sure: Your choices matter a lot.
Danny Smith [M]: Your charming boss. At first he looks stoic and cold at first , not kind at least, but in reality he has a hard of gold. He enjoys working with kids and the school is everything to him. Maybe too much for him. He is very social but it looks like he never lets anyone get close. Can you truly capture his heart and get to know him?
Alice Smith [F]: Just like her uncle quiet charming, a bit too confident sometimes but it makes her quite attractive. She is the school psychologist and has helped a lot of children already. But not like Danny she seems to seperate work and life more. She cares for her students that is clear but there is something...sly about her. Can you figure out who she truly is?
Dolores Richards [F]: She is a secret fully. Yes she is kind and looks sweet but there is something about her. She married her husband while she was in college, it all seemed perfect but lately things have changed. Can you help her figure out what she wants?
Lisa: One of your students who is going through something that changes her life forever. Can you help her or will you only drive her further into her depression. [1/3 kid stories you can follow.]
Oliver: The son of Dolores and a student of yours . Although he is dressed well and he gets anything he wants from his parents, the things he needs most are neglected. Can you help Oliver find a way to feel fully loved again?
Jaden: A boy born in a poor family and although not on purpose neglected by his parents. He spends his days in school and at work trying to earn enough for his family. Can you find a way to help him and his family?
Other
Lifechanger is currently a WIP. The demo is at 14K. I am planning on updating every 2-4 weeks with a new chapter, the story will be between 30-40k words long. This is my first story so i’ll be keeping it fully free and i hope to learn a lot from it. Don’t be afraid to give me tips or help with my grammar.
Thank you for reading this!
Demo
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MINI SERIES: THE SLAVE
PART THREE OF THE DARK & SEXY SERIES
NOTE: This is a series of one shots and mini series for Cillian Murphy & Tommy Shelby in which he acts totally off-canon. Most of these shots are very dark in nature and you should read their individual warnings. All of these shots are requests from readers. Co-written with @darkshelbyfiction! ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18. MINORS DNI.
PAIRING: TOMMY SHELBY X VIRGIN READER
WARNING: NON-CONSENSUAL LOSS OF VIRGINITY, CAPTURED READER, SLAVE READER, TOMMY GETTING OFF ON PAIN
NOTE: AGAIN THIS WAS A REQUEST AND I FELT A LITTLE UNCOMFORTABLE PUBLISHING IT...VERY DARK!
It had been two days since you were brought to Birmingham from your home country after promises of prosperity and wealth.
But the cost for this was higher than you ever imagined when you were sold, by your very own father, as property to the highest bidder.
Now you had arrived at Thomas Shelby's estate, which stood majestically against the backdrop of lush greenery and manicured gardens. The mansion, built centuries ago, seemed to command the landscape around it, much like how its owner commanded people within it.
A maid named Nadia greeted you at the entrance, leading you up the grand staircase that spiraled upwards into a series of breathtaking domed ceilings and magnificent chandeliers. Each room presented an extravagant spectacle of artistry and craftsmanship; it was as if every corner had been meticulously designed to overwhelm even the most jaded observer.
Despite the opulence surrounding you, something felt unsettling about the silence that enveloped the house. As far as you could tell, there was no one else here except the maids and yourself. This was not just a house, but a fortress - an impregnable bastion constructed on foundations of isolation and distance.
"This way," intoned the maid, gesturing down a long hallway lined with oil paintings depicting scenes of aristocratic splendor. The air smelled stale - it had been many years since anyone had breathed life into this grand edifice.
"I will show you to your room," whispered Nadia, casting a furtive glance over her shoulder.
As she walked ahead, you noticed her movements were careful, almost rehearsed, as if she had done this countless times before.
Her gait betrayed an unnatural rhythm, a pattern formed by habituation rather than choice.
She knew the layout of the house inside out, each twist and turn etched into her memory like grooves on an old vinyl record.
You followed her silently, allowing the grandeur of the mansion to wash over you.
Every now and then, you caught glimpses of your reflection in the polished marble floors, a ghostly image of yourself trapped between reality and illusion. You found yourself feeling strangely calm and collected, despite the circumstances that led you here.
Nadia finally stopped outside a door adorned with intricate carvings and gestured you into a room without windows.
"This is where you will sleep and perform your duties," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. There was something eerie about the maid, an unspoken understanding between her and the master of the house.
Slowly stepping into the dimly lit chamber, you took note of the opulent surroundings: velvet curtains hung from gold-plated rails, plush rugs lay scattered across the polished hardwood floor, and delicate porcelain vases filled with fresh flowers graced every surface.
However, the abundance of luxury did little to ease the unease that settled deep within your gut.
The maid turned abruptly, locking eyes with you. "At night, the room will be locked securely so don't attempt to leave. If you need anything, ring the bell by the bedside table," she told you before fluffing up some of the cushions on the bed.
"I never..." You trailed off, swallowing back tears that threatened to betray your bravado. You forced yourself to maintain eye contact with the maid, knowing full well that any sign of weakness would be exploited mercilessly. "I have not done anything like this before. I was told that I had to because a lot of money was paid for my services, but understand please that I have no experience," you then stammered, knowing full well that you had been purchased to perform sexual acts for your benefactor.
"The fact that you are so innocent, and young is precisely why Mr. Shelby has purchased you," Nadia responded coldly, turning away to adjust a lamp on the nightstand.
"Now, let me explain to you what is expected of you around here," she continued, softening her tone slightly.
Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, and your palms slickened with sweat, though you managed to nod affirmatively, meeting her gaze steadily. "Firstly, you must address Mr. Shelby as 'Sir' at all times. Do not forget," she warned sternly.
You swallowed hard, nodding again.
"You will be allowed to leave your room with another maid, between eight o'clock in the morning and eight o'clock in the evening, but not otherwise unless Mr. Shelby is with you," Nadia explained, adjusting a silk pillow propped by the headboard.
You tried to picture a day spent in confinement, the mere thought sending shivers down your spine.
"Mr. Shelby will inform you directly when he requires your services. Most often he will come here to use you for his pleasure, and he usually expects to be attended to at least twice per day, occasionally more often. You should prepare yourself mentally and physically for his needs because it can get quite overwhelming sometimes," Nadia explained and your breath hitched, but you managed to control the panic rising within you.
"And if I refuse?" you asked, causing Nadia to pause and look at you. "Refusal is not an option. Mr. Shelby doesn't tolerate disobedience. You must do whatever he asks."
Your hands shook involuntarily, but you clenched them into fists to prevent further trembling. You nodded weakly, fighting back tears.
"What he wants...is it...painful?" What you didn't know, what you couldn't comprehend, was whether the physical pain of intimacy would be more bearable than the emotional agony of submitting to someone else's whims.
"Sometimes, but he's gentle enough," Nadia replied matter-of-factly. "Now, you must get ready for tonight. He will be visiting you at 8 o'clock and expects you to wear nothing but a pair of undergarments of your choice," Nadia said before directing you to your wardrobe. "You will lie on the bed and wait for him, understood?" she asked and, again, you nodded.
"I will be back after he is done with you to change the sheets and provide food and water," Nadia then finally explained before she left you alone in the darkness, save for the faint glow of your bedside lamp. You heard the key turn in the lock, sealing you in the room. You sat on the edge of the bed, trying to process everything she told you.
On the bedside table you found a bottle of lubrication next to a bottle of painkillers, both small comforts in the face of the reality of your situation and, when you looked around the room, you also found other items such as restraints hanging neatly from hooks in the wall. You shivered, feeling your anxiety rise.
Then, just before 8 o'clock, there was a knock on the door. You flinched, jumping to your feet and nearly knocking over the lamp.
"It's time," Nadia called through the door. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage.
You stripped off your clothes, leaving you naked in the dim light of the room. You pulled on a pair of cotton panties, their thin fabric barely covering the shame you felt.
You then laid down beneath the thin sheets and waited for your new master's arrival. The tension mounted as the seconds ticked by, the sound of footsteps echoing loudly in the silent mansion.
There was a creak of the door opening, and an intimidating figure emerged from the shadows. His presence loomed large, filling the space with an aura of dominance and power. He wore only a robe, his toned body visible underneath. You bit your lip nervously, unable to tear your gaze away from those imposing features.
Thomas Shelby, you reminded yourself – a name that would forever haunt your dreams. His cold blue eyes swept over you, assessing your worth.
You stared back, holding his gaze, refusing to cower.
"Welcome, Love," he rasped, his voice like gravel underfoot, but you remained silent, swallowing the lump in your throat. He moved closer, looming over you like a storm cloud, his scent of sandalwood and spice filling your nostrils.
"I trust Nadia has briefed you on your duties?" he queried, reaching out to stroke your cheek.
Your skin recoiled at his touch, but you refused to pull away.
"Yes, she did," you mumbled hesitantly, your voice cracking under his scrutiny. He studied you carefully, tracing the lines of your jaw with his fingers.
"Good girl," he crooned softly, a strange sense of pride swelling within you. Your resolve wavered at the compliment, but you steeled yourself, reminding yourself of the reality of your situation as he touched some of your bare skin not covered by the white sheet.
"Relax Love," he then said softly as the heat of his hand seared through your skin, sending quivers up your spine. "You will get used to this after a while," he went on to say and his voice was comforting, yet the words stung like venom.
Your breath quickened, chest rising and falling in rapid succession, and your hands instinctively curled into fists beneath the thin white sheet covering you. You wanted to scream, but instead, you simply nodded, unable to find any words to respond.
Thomas looked at you, his eyes appraising your form beneath the covers. "I am going to have a look at you now, eh" he said suddenly, reaching down to lift the edge of the sheet away from your body.
You squirmed and turned red, trying to cover yourself. But he pushed your hands aside gently, staring at you with a mixture of lust and admiration. "I cannot wait to feel your tight little cunt squeeze around my cock when I claim you," he whispered, running his fingertips along your inner thigh, causing you to shiver uncomfortably.
"But first, let me have a look at this little virgin hole of yours, eh?" the man said and his words sent a wave of unease coursing through your veins. You could feel the sweat trickling down your face, mingling with the tears pooling in your eyes. You bit your lip, struggling to contain the sobs threatening to erupt from inside you.
With a gentle tug, he pulled your panties down just enough to expose your slit and your heart pounded against your chest almost painfully.
"I have been told that your opening is particularly small" he murmured, trailing his fingers over your slit before parting your labia slightly, exposing your tiny clit.
"Ow!" you gasped, wincing at the sudden stretch caused by his fingers.
"You do have a tight opening indeed," he grinned wickedly, licking his lips.
Thomas gazed at it with fascination, reaching between your thighs. You tried to close your legs, but he firmly held them open, pressing a dry finger against your entrance, probing it gently.
"Look at that," he breathed, leaning forward to get a better view. "It's barely opened up yet," Tommy groaned as he probed deeper, widening your opening until he found your hymen—a thin membrane that separated you from being fully broken. His fingers brushed against it, sending stinging pain shooting through your core as he toyed with your opening.
"Now, be a good girl and hold still for me," he cooed, pressing the tips of one of his fingers against your entrance. "I need to stretch you out a bit, ready for later," he went on to say as his finger pressed harder, forcing its way into your most intimate space. It felt too big, too foreign. The pain was excruciating, but you did your best not to make a sound.
"There we go," he muttered, thrusting deeper until his entire pointer finger filled you up. "That's a good girl. Now, let's see if I can get a second one in there," he told you before reaching for the bottle of lubrication he kept on the nightstand and squirting the viscous liquid onto two of his fingers.
"Hold still for me," he reminded you before swiping his fingers across your outer lips and then pushing not one but two fingers right into you.
You cried out and arched your back, biting into your own fist to stop any louder sounds from escaping.
"Shh," Thomas hushed you, rubbing soothing circles into your hipbone as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.
His fingers felt cold and slimy inside you, sliding easily past your resistance, tearing at your hymen with each thrust.
You closed your eyes tightly, gritting your teeth as the sensation of being stretched and torn overwhelmed you.
The sight of his fingers stretching you like this turned him on; he couldn't help but groan and squeeze harder, making sure you knew exactly what he was doing to you.
"Such a good girl," he praised between grunts, watching your petals pulse around his digits, growing wetter and slicker with every stroke.
"See how hard you make me?" he moaned, opening his robe and grabbing hold of his erection, stroking it firmly. "I really want to fuck you now," he determined before he withdrew his fingers from you, leaving you feeling empty and exposed.
"Now be a good girl and turn over and lay flat on your stomach, face down against pillow," he commanded gruffly, pushing your upper body onto the mattress.
You hesitated, wanting to turn over and hide your nakedness, but fear of displeasing him kept you lying facedown.
"I am going to use some lubrication, but it is going to hurt a lot more if you don't relax Love," he warned sharply, pulling your waist upwards and spreading your legs apart.
As you lay on your stomach and your heart hammered against your chest. The thought of being penetrated by him sent chills down your spine. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to block out the inevitable.
You whimpered softly, trying to prepare yourself for what was to come, and Tommy smeared a generous amount of lube onto his cock, coating it in a thick layer of slippery fluid. You flinched in anticipation as he positioned himself between your legs.
"This might hurt a bit for the first few days, but you will get used to it after a while. The more we do it, the easier it will get," he said while aligning himself with your entry point.
"Now," he continued, his tone stern. "I want you to stay completely still when I penetrate you," he added, applying another dollop of lube to his shaft.
You remained silent, swallowing loudly as you attempted to gather your courage. You could hear your own heartbeat echoing in your ears; the rhythmic, thunderous pounding was deafening.
"Do you understand?" he asked quietly and you nodded. Your muscles tensed, ready to endure whatever came next.
Thomas placed the head of his penis at your entrance, teasing you with a slow push. You exhaled loudly, gripping the sheets in your fists.
"Relax and let me in," Thomas urged you, nudging the tip of his member against your entrance. "That's it," he sighed, feeling your body yield under his command. His cock slid into you, stretching you wide open, and the friction of entering you caused a shudder to ripple through his body.
"Ah," he groaned, reveling in the exquisite sensation of being enveloped by your warm, tight channel. "Such a good girl," he groaned as he savored the moment, basking in the sensations that coursed through him. Then, he began to thrust, filling you up inch by agonizing inch until every last millimeter of his erection was buried deep within you.
"So tight," he groaned, bucking into you with a force that seemed to shake the entire bed. "Fuck, you're so goddamn tight."
"You are going to be such a good little whore for me, eh?" Tommy murmured into your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck.
"You will take my cock many times a day, love," he growled, his words a dark promise that sent a chill down your spine. "In the morning, afternoon, and evening."
You swallowed loudly, unable to meet his gaze. Your heart hammered wildly against your chest, and you struggled to suppress the sob that threatened to escape.
"Every time I come through that door, you'll be ready for me, won't you?" he asked, his grip tightening around your hip.
"Because I'm going to fuck you whenever I want, Love." Tommy snarled, punctuating his words with hard thrusts.
For almost an hour, he used you like this, treating you like a rag doll that belonged to him alone until, finally, he was ready to ejaculate inside your raw opening.
"I am going to cum inside you now, Love," he informed you, his cock twitching violently against your vaginal wall.
"Do you want me to fill you up with my seed?" he asked you, his voice laced with lust, his fingers tightening around your hips.
"Yes, sir," you managed to reply, your voice hoarse with exhaustion.
He smiled down at you, satisfaction shining in his eyes. "Good girl," he praised, pumping his cock a few more times before letting out a guttural yell and filling you up with his essence.
As he collapsed next to you, panting heavily, you could feel his warmth radiating into your channel.
The remnants of his semen trickled down your leg, leaving a sticky trail behind.
"That was a lovely experience, wasn't it?" Tom said, his voice still coarse from exertion. "Now rest. I am going to fuck you again when I come back from my business deal tonight" he added, his gaze lingering on your tender, swollen lips.
He moved his hands to cup your breasts, palming them gently before pinching your nipples.
"You are going to learn to enjoy it Love," he whispered, his voice harsh and commanding. "And when you do," he paused, his breath hot against your cheek, "you are going to beg me for more," he determined before putting his robe back on and calling one of the maids to help you clean up.
#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy#tommy shelby#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy imagine#peaky blinders#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfiction#thomas shelby smut
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Happy Xmas (War Is Over)
Natasha Romanoff x Taskmaster!Reader
Summary: Settling down within S.H.I.E.L.D hasn't been easy, but Christmastime is here, and Clint Barton extends an invitation that seems too good to be true. You follow him to his farmhouse where you're met with a few surprises. With Natalia by your side, you try to accept your new life in America, and maybe find some holiday spirit along the way.
Foreword: Happy Holidays everyone! This is a beast of a fic (14.5k words) so strap in. It's also very much an original character just written in second person, but I hope you enjoy.
You sat slouched on a sofa in the common room of SHIELD headquarter’s residential wing. You weren’t sure why the designers had felt the need to include this room. Spies weren’t well known for their extroverted nature. But the holidays had left the area quiet, rather the entire building seemed to have wound down with the slowing nature of the cold and snow outside. You found the space to be useful when you became sick of staring at the same four blank walls of your standard issue apartment. Having recently defected from Russian ranks you and Natalia weren’t allowed to leave campus without an escort, which left you exactly three places to spend downtime. Your room, Natalia’s room–which looked exactly like yours save for a book Barton had given her–or the common area.
The two of you were working on the latest mission report. Well, you were supposed to be working on the write-up, but the end of year evaluations had been released and yours begged to be raked over. So Natalia worked on hers, fingers diligently tapping away at the keys. She was sitting sideways along the couch, legs lounged over your lap and back to the armrest. You didn’t know how she found the position comfortable. You narrowed your eyes at your computer screen and the unkind words it harbored. “Do you think I am uncooperative and have a tendency to disobey the orders of superiors?” You asked the redhead.
She looked up from her laptop, eyes searching your profile. “Where is this coming from?”
“The end of year assessments,” you frowned. “They are out.”
“I thought we were working on the reports for the Minsk mission.” She raised a reprimanding eyebrow.
“I was,” you said, dragging out the second word ever so slightly. “But they are just so tedious now. Why do they need to know the amount of bullets I used? I miss when all we had to do was take a photo of the dead guy for proof of accomplishment.” Natalia nudged your ribs with her foot. “Ow,” you complained.
“We do this because it’s the normal thing to do. Because what we do in the field is necessary, but the violence has to be justified so we can continue doing our jobs.” She tucked a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid behind her ear. “We’re with the good guys now,” she reminded gently. “The world may still be brutal, but we don’t have to be anymore.”
“So we count the bullets,” you concluded.
“So we count the bullets,” she stated. A moment of silence passed, only the sound of Natalia resuming her typing filling the air. That was something you were still getting used to. Silence always preceded something terrible, the inhale before you faced hell on earth. “You are uncooperative.”
“What?” You asked, turning to face her indifferent expression.
“Your question from earlier. I’m answering it.”
“You too?” You shook your head. “You are supposed to take my side, not Fury’s.”
“You are the person who let themselves get captured by the enemy after you heard they’d gotten to me. And,” she paused, “if you finished that report you’d get to the part where you chose not to listen to Agent Riley.”
“I had it handled,” you said, reaching for your coffee cup on the side table.”That man thinks he knows what is better just because he has fifteen years on me. I think he is too cautious. That is why the Americans are leagues behind us in intelligence. They do not have the guts to do what needs to be done.”
“We are Americans now,” she reminded. You wrinkled your nose. “I mean for all intents and purposes, you get that.” She put her laptop on the coffee table and sidled next to you. You could feel her warmth bleed into you where your bodies met. Her knees pressed into your legs, her shoulders turned into your chest. “You can do it, I know you can,” she whispered, taking your hand.
“Do what?” You asked dubiously.
“Beat them. Unlearn what they taught us. You just have to make an effort.” She put a hand on your cheek, fingertips caressing the side of your face. You almost swore she wanted you to kiss her. You swallowed down nothing but a bubble of air and desire. Not today.
You looked at her, gaze narrowing. “I am here, am I not?” Two large windows allowed the morning light to stream in behind Natasha and wash her in a fresh aura. The blue sky shined bright as fat snowflakes whirled down to meet the pavement of the U.S. capital. Far below, pedestrians hustled from building to building, jackets pulled tight against the cold. Your heart began to pound when you thought about calling this place home. Everything was just so wrong. “I think fighting the urge to run is about all I can manage right now. I believed in the cause, at least I think I did. Turning my back on the Red Room, on him any faster and I think I might break.”
“I know, and I see you. But you have to show them that,” she said, tapping the now black computer screen.
“Like you do? Do not tell me you actually trust anyone here.”
“I don’t,” she said carefully, as if there might exist an exception. “But you have to cooperate, to let someone else take the reins for now.”
“I do not know if I can.” You bit your lip and traced the room with your eyes. The clean, modern furniture and the off-white walls. You knew you shouldn’t but you missed the familiarity of the old wooden mansion. “I am not like you Talia. I cannot see the good in people.”
“And I’m not asking you to. Do you trust me?” She asked, eyes that reminded you of the dawn of spring boring into yours.
“Always,” you breathed, not missing a beat. “You are the only thing in this world that makes sense to me.”
“Then follow my lead. I’m worried about you. I don’t want you digging a hole you can’t climb out of.”
“Okay, I will try.” You were not sure you meant it. Humanity given too much freedom would eat itself alive. A familiar mantra marched across the back of your mind like the incessant buzz of an insect. Correct and control. Correct and control. Correct and control. Correct–
A noise from down the hall caught your attention. Quick footsteps heading your way echoed into the room. You looked at Natalia. The two of you had thought everyone else had left the building for the holidays.
A frazzled Clint Barton walked into the room, looking about to take off in a full sprint. He wore faded blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. A duffel bag hung over his shoulder, storing a fair amount of his belongings if you had to guess. He glanced in your direction, but refused to slow his stride. You watched him go, when suddenly he dug his heel into the ground and spun around.
“What are you guys doing here?” He asked as if just now processing your presence.
“Working,” Natalia answered. You liked Barton well enough and there was no question that you owed him an unpayable debt for sparing Natalia’s life. He looked unassuming, quick to smile and kept a short crop of hair as blonde as a field of wheat. You weren’t quite on casual speaking terms though, not because he bothered you, no. It’s just you weren’t keen to talk to anyone except the girl still halfway sprawled across you.
He furrowed his brow and adjusted the strap across his shoulder. “It’s Christmas Eve,” he stated plainly, as if that in itself was explanation enough.
“It is,” Natalia agreed.
“Well you can’t sit in here all day.” He made a sweeping gesture about the room and all of its bareness and almost surgical detachment. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, silent surprise weaving its way across his face. Feeling off put, you fixed your posture, spine straightening and causing Natasha to slide away. You had yet to encounter him outside of a professional setting, but here you sat wedged into the couch and rather at ease. You wore sweats, albeit SHIELD issue, but still something you’d normally not be caught around in.
“And why is that?” Natalia asked, tone laced with faux confusion. She blinked at Barton, eyes doe-wide.
He shifted his stance and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re really going to make me say it?” He waited, looking at Natalia indignantly. “It’s sad. You can’t stay at work during Christmas.”
“What would you suggest we do?” She asked, still playing her one-sided game. Bemusing to you, but not so much to the Hawkeye.
“I don’t know. Go home? That’s what I’m doing.” Home, you thought. If you ran back to the place you still called home, SHIELD would call for your head. Even still, the house beckoned out to you in your dreams; not warm, never safe, but structured and oh so familiar. Come home my child, a gruff voice compelled. Come and take your rightful place as my sword and shield.
Something behind Natasha’s eyes flickered for a moment before disappearing behind a wall of apathy. “There’s not exactly a home for me to go back to.”
“Oh. That’s right. Erm,” Barton stammered. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget.”
“Forget that I’m an outsider?”
“That’s one way to put it I suppose. I mean, you’re one of us now, right? We all come from different places so in a way we’re all outsiders. Most of us have pasts we’d rather forget. You don’t do the kind of thing we do because you grew up with two loving parents,” he said.
Natalia tilted her head, hair brushing against your neck. “And where did you come from?”
He smiled, one side of his mouth pulled slightly higher than the other. “Nice try Romanoff. Put a couple of beers in me first and you might have better luck.”
“Oh that’s right, I forgot. Fury found you wandering around the sewers,” she teased. You didn’t know who she did it. How she joked and spoke so freely. How she saw a friend and ally where you saw a threat and a future enemy.
“Ha ha,” he said dryly, lips still curled in a smile. “You’re actually not too far off.” He waited before saying more, eyes flicking to you as they often did when the three of you gathered together. Patiently offering a chance for you to join the conversation, but never calling you out. You were running out of excuses to mistrust the man. “Even still, you guys ought to get out of here. Drive to New York or something. They put up a giant tree in Times Square. I’ve never seen it in person, but,” he raised an arm for emphasis. “Huge.”
This time Natalia’s expression fell for long enough even Barton picked up on it. She turned away from him and stared down at her hands. “I’d love to see that,” she murmured. “We can’t leave though. Not yet. Not without an escort from an authorized superior.” Technically there was nothing stopping you from leaving the building. You’d picked up the nasty habit of prowling the streets in the dead hours of the morning after a nightmare left your hands shaky and your heart clawing its panicked way up your throat. Natalia however had not made one move even remotely close to toeing SHIELD’s strict line. A fact made clear when she’d caught you sneaking back in as the sun rose one morning. You’d promised not to do it again with an overwrought frown on your face. You went out again the very next night and left a mugger to bleed out in an alleyway.
“Oh, that’s right.” It was Barton’s turn to look away. “You know what?” He asked, lifting his chin and pulling out a cell phone. He let the duffle bag down from his shoulder and onto the ground, putting the phone to his ear. Natalia looked at you and you shrugged. She knew him better than you anyway.
“Hey honey,” he said, not bothering to turn away or lower his voice. You didn’t know he had a girlfriend. Between the way you had only ever seen him consume pizza and his obsession with trying to make the most difficult shots possible on missions you had assumed he was single. “I’ve got a pair of stragglers here at the office.” He paused, sucking on his teeth for a moment. “I know, I know I was just about to get on the road I promise. I’ll still be home by five. No, I’ll be careful, I won’t get a speeding ticket this time.” He adjusted the phone and flicked his gaze in your direction. “Yeah, Laura, it’s them. You know me. They don’t have anywhere to go and I thought.” He paused. Slowly, a dopey grin curled onto his face. “Yeah, I do. You know I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t.” A final pause. “Okay. I’ll see you later. Love you.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and looked up with new excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Have you guys ever been to Iowa?”
Natalia shook her head. “No. I’ve got a soft spot for the Midwest though.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Go pack for a few days. Laura’s going to kill me if I’m another minute late,” he said, hoisting the bag over his shoulder.
Natalia’s eyes went wide and she opened her mouth, speechless. Even you were taken aback. Was Barton really inviting you to his home? Certainly he didn’t trust you yet. You hadn’t even been at SHIELD for a year, the first six months of which you spent firmly locked in a cell. Yet there he stood, hands in his pockets and waiting for you to move your ass and follow him out. “I didn’t,” Natalia started. “When I said we couldn’t leave I wasn’t asking for you–”
“Nope. Don’t do that. I want to. You guys are never going to be comfortable here if you’re not extended some freedom. Trust me, I know.” You watched the other man with suspicion, waiting for the trap to spring. The SHIELD agent who had spared Natalia’s life when he had explicit orders to put an arrow through her heart. The American who believed in the good in people and making the world a less gruesome place in the small way he could. The person who extended a hand to others in a time of crisis. “I used to spend Christmas alone and cold without a home. Then I got Laura and I couldn’t be happier. But it can get lonely just the two of us out there. If you really would rather stay here I won’t force you to come,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I would really appreciate the company, and I know Laura would love to meet the two of you.”
Natalia shifted, putting one foot on the floor. She looked at you and you knew she wanted to go, but wouldn’t if you said no. But oh, you would do anything for her. Subtly you nodded. You didn’t care how much you were struggling, you’d pull yourself together for the weekend. “We’re in.”
You pushed yourself off the couch and went back to your room to pack what little you had. All of your clothes were plain which you didn’t mind, but something about knowing they were SHIELD issue left you feeling claustrophobic. You gripped a black dress shirt in your hand a little tighter than you needed to. To you it screamed, you are not free. We own you now. You threw your toothbrush and toothpaste in alongside the clothes before stopping at the bedside table. Carefully you pulled open the drawer and snagged a little necklace from inside. Tucking it into a side pocket you jogged out to find Natalia and Barton waiting in the lobby.
Barton’s truck was nowhere near extravagant, but it held a sort of coziness that only came from years of ownership. Natasha sat in the passenger seat while you took the back, wincing when you found the lack of legroom. The interior smelled of old air freshener, dirt, and worn leather. “Strap in,” he said. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”
Barton tuned the radio to play Christmas music and introduced you to his atrocious singing as he belted along to ‘Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town’. As you left the thick jungle of Washington D.C. and moved west across Virginia the city whipped away as the sun traveled across the sky. When you reached the interstate proper and were well away from the prying eyes of the urban center you finally allowed yourself to relax a little. Natalia began to hum along to a new song, a small smile on her face. Barton turned the volume up a notch and you leaned your head against the cool window pane, eyes tracking the snow covered countryside.
At a gas station in Ohio Natalia asked to switch seats with you. She curled up in the back using a sweatshirt as a pillow and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. You checked the rearview every few minutes and eventually she had fallen asleep for real, lips parted slightly and breathing slowing down.
Barton had given up on his singing endeavor and had reduced himself to whistling and tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the radio. As you passed a sign welcoming you to Indiana he spoke up. “Okay, truth time,” he said, stealing a concerned glance at you before staring back at the two lane road before him. The truck's wheels ate up yards of the sun bleached asphalt. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Yes,” you said.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re not gonna kill me in my sleep tonight, right?” He asked, trying his best to clear the nerves from his voice.
“No. I like you, Barton. And even if I did not I owe you a great debt,” you said.
A crease formed on his brow. “A debt?”
You looked back at the woman sleeping soundly in the back of the truck. Her feet were tucked up on the seat, head laying on a sweatshirt stuffed in between the window and the headrest. You thought it might have been the most at peace you’ve ever seen her. “Yeah,” you breathed. “For giving her a better life.” One that I never could, you thought.
“I didn’t do it looking for any favors. Not from her, and certainly not from you or Fury,” he insisted. “Fury was pissed of course. He knew who I was when he hired me, but I still think he underestimated my loyalty to my gut. And you,” he said, nodding in your direction. “You were a wildcard no one saw coming.”
“Good or bad?” You asked, already sure of the answer.
“To be honest, I’m not sure yet. I think that’s still up to you,” he said.
You held a groan back. Moral dilemmas made your head ache. You’d wanted a straight answer. Tell me how to be good. “What do you mean?”
He ran a hand through his hair, spiking it up in three different ways. “Well, you’re good out in the field. Like scary good, and I know you’ll watch my back. That’s the most important thing,” he said. “But then we get back and I see you pacing around the compound like you’re stuck in a cage. I guess I’m just not sure what’s going through your head.”
You clenched and unclenched your fist, overcome with the urge to tell the other man more than you’d told any of the SHIELD shrinks in a year. He felt safe and genuine, but you knew that was an impossibility; you knew people to be horrid pretenders. You opened your mouth anyway, Natalia’s urges for you to try ringing in your ears. “I can follow orders on a mission no problem. Shut off my brain and listen to authority. Protect your team, take the shot, retrieve the files. That is what I was built for,” you sighed, eyeing Barton warily. Waiting for him to snap at you. “But when the job is done, and I have time to sit and think on it…I feel like I have just ripped myself in half.”
“That’s, well, that’s some intense shit,” he said, tipping his head. “What I can tell you though, with absolute certainty, is that General Dreykov is a bad man. For me, for SHIELD, for her…” Clint said. You knew very well who he was referring to. “There’s no gray area there, man. We’re going to shut him down.”
“I know," you said, short and quick. You knew that's what they all said, but Dreykov had protected you for a long time. He had raised you. He had loved you as his own. You didn't want to see him in a cell, or worse, in a grave. “I cannot get it straight in my head. Everyone has been telling me that working for SHIELD is a step toward being better, to making something of myself. If that is true, then how come the longer I am here the more I feel like I am betraying everything that makes me me?” You knew why. Something inside you was broken and twisted beyond repair. It made you see the world backward. Everyone around you could smell the festering rot of the mangled heart inside your chest. They just needed an excuse to put you down for good.
“Well, you are just about the most Russian person I’ve ever met,” he said. You tried your very best not to glare at him when he looked over. “Before about five minutes ago the only sentences I’d ever heard you speak were two word acknowledgements in the field. And the accent. You’re playing it up, right?”
“Maybe a little.” You were more than capable of fixing it and putting on an American one, but you felt entitled to keep this little part of yourself. To remind yourself and everyone else where you came from. The pressure to conform was a constant torrent but you refused to let them win, for better or for worse.
“As for actual advice…I would say don’t look at it from a good versus bad perspective. In this field, none of us are really good. Not even at SHIELD. I don’t care what some of those righteous assholes think. Forget what anyone told you before and what anyone tells you now,” he said, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. “Take a step back and compare the before and the now. How did it make you feel?” He asked, stressing the you. “What cause do you believe in? Tough thing is there’s not a right and a wrong answer. Took me a hell of a long time to figure out what I thought about it all. I used to operate strictly outside of the law and now I’m a fed,” he said, shrugging. “Just know I’m rooting for you.”
“And if I come to a conclusion you do not agree with?”
“I’ll make sure to give you a headstart,” he said, winking and throwing you a playful smirk.
“Ah, I am grateful Barton,” you said, cracking a smile. It felt good, like feeling the sun on your face after being inside for a long time. You reveled in the feeling while it lasted.
“No. No more of that Barton stuff. It’s Clint.” He said, shaking his head. “Unless we’re on a mission. Then it’s Hawkeye.”
“The infamous Hawkeye. Tell me, Clint. Where do you get a name like that?” You could tell he was fond of the alias.
“Would you believe me if I told you it’s from the circus?”
A million questions crowded your mind. You looked over, mouth hanging open. You didn’t know much about circuses. They had shown you all a cartoon once about an elephant that had giant ears and could fly. It led the other circus animals in a rebellion against the human handlers. In the end the ringmaster cut its ears off and strung them up as a lesson against exceptionalism. “You were in the circus?” You asked.
“Even better,” he answered. “I was raised up in one.”
“Did you have elephants?”
“No,” he scoffed, chuckling. “We were classier than that. All acrobats and good old fashioned theatrics. I used to sharpshoot. Struck apples off of people’s heads. That sort of thing. Although when I wasn’t on stage I was running through the audience, taking wallets out of pockets.”
You squinted your eyes at him. “Baby Barton raising hell. I can see it. And it would explain the mess in here.” You scuffed your shoe on the floor, stirring up bits of dirt and dried mud. Items crowded the backseat next to Natalia. A winter coat, a pair of sneakers, a hunting knife, handle worn from use. The cupholders were stuffed with old receipts and loose change, and something rattled in the glove box everytime the truck took a left turn.
“It’s messy in here?” He asked, glancing about the cabin. “I don’t think it’s too bad.”
“You are funny.”
“No, I'm being completely serious. Doesn’t everyone’s car kinda look like this?” His bewilderment would be slightly endearing if you weren’t such a neat freak.
“No, not really. I will help you clean over the holiday,” you said, leaving no room for protest. “I cannot stand the ride back like this.”
“If you insist. Just don’t throw anything out without running it by me. I promise everything in here is important.”
“Whatever you say,” you said, eyeing a stack of coffee cups wedged in the door.
“Can I ask something? I mean, I don’t want to overstep.” You were learning Clint did not do well with silence.
“Go ahead.”
“What’s the deal with you and Natasha? Are you dating? It’s been killing me trying to figure the two of you out.”
“No, uh, we are not,” you stuttered. “We are friends.” Even that label seemed to hold too much weight. You weren’t supposed to have friends. And to befriend one of the Widows no less. You were above them, primed to not only serve the Red Room, but to be the embodiment of its crusade. Dreykov’s right hand. The Taskmaster.
Clint had the nerve to scoff. “I’ve seen you just about butcher an entire compound of enemy combatants without batting an eye. And you can never ever tell Fury this but you intimidate the other agents more than he does.” He took one hand off the wheel and stretched it out, flexing his fingers. “And as far as I can tell the only person who can get you to listen to anyone but yourself…” He pointedly stared at the rearview mirror. “I didn’t even recognize you earlier back at SHIELD. You looked so, unagitated. Like you finally managed to dislodge that stick up your ass.”
“Ha, ha,” you laughed dryly. “You know, I am going to find something to shove up your ass.”
“You were letting her lay on you like a cat. You can’t tell me you guys haven’t slept together.”
You glared at his profile until he got the hint and faced you. “That is none of your business.”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry I crossed a line,” he said. Your chest twisted with an unfamiliar sensation. One that made its way to your face in not quite a smile, but certainly an expression of gratitude. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek. Apologies were new for you.
“It is alright,” you said, vehemence leaving your voice. “It is just complicated. We had,” you hesitated and took a deep breath. “We had more than we should have in, um…before. They tried to keep us apart, make me think she was as heartless as the rest of the world.” You stared out the windshield, not willing to risk eye contact with Barton. A bug came flying at the truck and splattered green guts right in your eyeline. “And for a while I believed them. I hated her. But I was wrong. It is actually the opposite. Natalia is just, she is good. She stupidly stuck by me and dragged my head up from the sand when I was intent on suffocating myself.”
“I’m no expert, just a guy with a wife and a couple of kids, but that sounds a damn lot like love to me,” he said.
A choir of sardonic voices roused to action in the forefront of your mind. What do you know of love? You bite the hand that needs you, do you understand? You bite it clean off. A bitter laugh lunged from your throat before you could stop it. “You are wrong. Love is a fantasy to hold over the heads of the masses.”
“Wow.” Clint blinked dramatically, twice. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you just got even more Russian.”
“Fuck off, Hawkeye,” you said, grinning freely.
“Seriously though, I’ll never understand what you guys went through. Not in any way that counts, but the fact you made it out together tells me how fucking strong the both of you are.” He flicked his gaze to you. “There’s something there for you to think about too, but you gotta find it on your own.”
But you would rather take a knife to the chest than admit to harboring any sort of four letter words for Natalia. “Wait, you have a kid?” You asked, turning the conversation back on Barton.
“Yeah,” he said, smile reaching up to crinkle the corners of his eyes. “I have two now, if you can believe it. My oldest is Cooper. He’s a little over three. Lila is the baby. They’re why I was a little nervous about bringing you out. My number one priority, before SHIELD, before the mission, before myself are those kids.”
“And you were driving me all this way worried that I would turn on you? That I might hurt your kids?”
“Well, you know. Don’t trust anyone, especially other spies. Especially Russian spies if you’re American. I was fairly sure, but there was a voice in the back of my head asking ‘what if,’ and I had to ask,” he admitted.
You wanted to tell him you’d never hurt a little kid. That he shouldn’t have worried. Except you had, so so many times before. “How do you feel now?” You asked instead.
“A lot better. Glad to know you’re not a robot.” Silence grew as the radio paused in between songs. You laid back against the seat and watched the plains rush by outside. The speakers came back to life and a new sickeningly cheery jingle began to play. “I love this one,” Clint said, turning the volume back up. He hummed with contentment and drummed his fingers on the wheel, looking over at you. “I am going to teach you all about the joy of Christmas music, just you wait.”
“Oh, great,” you remarked wryly. The small grin on your face however betrayed your stark tone. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all.
—
The old Chevy fought its way up the snow covered path toward the farmhouse in the middle of the field. White and red lights hung from the roof and wrapped the pillars of the porch in heartwarming hues. A little plastic snowman stood ambassador to the front door, waving a mittened hand and welcoming the incoming entourage. Clint parked a couple dozen yards from the house, grumbling about how he’d have to dig the truck out before he left again. Natalia hopped out, eyes wide as she took in the home. Your breath puffed out in visible clouds, but you hardly felt the cold. You were raised in the deathly Russian winters.
The front door cracked open, a woman standing silhouetted in the warm light behind her. “Clinton Francis Barton! You better get inside right now,” she said, a wide smile brightening her voice.
“Clinton?” Natalia asked, walking close behind Barton up to the porch.
“Yeah, yeah. Now you know my biggest secret.” He trudged up the stairs, snowflakes dusting his shoulders and hair. Laura met him in the doorway with a kiss. “Sorry we’re a little late,” he said.
“You’re excused this time, but only because you brought guests,” she said. Up close you could see she had big brown eyes and brown hair that fell to her shoulders. The inside of the house beckoned, the haze of meat and pine wafting outside. You dragged your feet along the stairs. You didn’t belong here. “Get inside now, you’re letting all the heat escape.” She patted Barton on the butt as he trod inside, fondness lacing her eyes as she looked after him. Natalia stood at the entryway, not yet stepping up into the house. “I mean you two as well,” Laura insisted, ushering you through the door.
“Daddy!” A little boy came barrelling around a corner, wrapping his arms around Clint’s leg and staring up at him with a toothy grin. The house immediately opened up into the living room, a worn brown couch facing a fireplace and an evergreen tree adorned with ornaments and twinkling lights. To your left a staircase spiraled upward and disappeared to a second floor. You stomped your shoes off on a welcome mat, watching the slush melt away.
A drumbeat of footsteps pattered your way and suddenly the child was wrapped around your leg, his fingers digging into your calf. Your muscles tensed and you began to lift your leg to shake him off, heart in your throat.
“Coop!” Laura scolded. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He���s usually pretty shy around strangers.”
But Cooper didn’t listen and you didn’t kick him away. This kid was not a threat. He ogled up at you with wide eyes the same shade as his mother’s and hair somehow blonder than his father’s. “Hi. I’m Cooper,” he said with the grace of someone just learning to speak.
“Hi,” you said, heat rushing to your cheeks at being startled by a three year old.
“Who are you?” He asked.
“I am a friend of your father’s,” you said, also telling him your name.
“Looks like you’ve been replaced, Clint,” Laura teased. “Come on, buddy, let’s get up. Daddy’s got to show them upstairs.”
But he only sank down further, sitting firmly on your shoe and jutting his lip in a pout. “Walk with me.”
You looked at Natalia, a tender smile on her face. “It’s alright,” you told Laura. “I can take him upstairs.”
“Are you sure?” She asked. “I can make him get down.”
“Yeah.” You couldn’t explain the tight feeling in your chest whenever the boy smiled up at you. “Are you ready?” He nodded eagerly and you took a step, following Clint up the stairs. Cooper giggled the entire time, clinging on with little hands.
“I hope you guys are okay with sharing a room. We’ve got Coop and Lila in their own rooms right now. Lila keeps you up at night, doesn’t she buddy?”
He nodded against your knee. “Lila cries a lot.”
“This is great,” Natalia said. “Thank you.” You and her still slept in separate rooms, but at this point you would have been willing to sleep out in the barn if he told you to. You hadn’t realized how crazy you’d been in that SHIELD compound. The wind whipping against your face outside had been like finally breathing deeply after having your head held underwater.
“The door on the end is the master bedroom,” Clint said, pointing left down the hall. “That’s Coop’s room, then there’s the nursery, the bathroom, and finally,” he stopped, opening a door to the right. “Here’s the guest room. I’ll let you guys get settled. Take your time. I’m going to help Laura get the table set.” He knelt down, scooping Cooper up under his arms and lifting him high in the air. The toddler shrieked as Clint settled him on his shoulders and stomped downstairs.
You set your bag down as Natalia moved around the room, running her hand over the nicely made bed. You cleared your throat, nerves and a foreign feeling clashing in your mind. “I can sleep on the floor.”
She turned to you sharply. “You know I would never ask you to do that.”
“I know. But I am offering.” You walked over to the window, pushing the curtain open and peering outside. You couldn’t see much of anything, even with your enhanced eyesight. Even still, the countryside was a refreshing landscape after being firmly locked in the city. But the wilderness sheltered different threats. The red dot of a laser sight burned your retinas, and glowing yellow eyes stared blankly back at you.
Natalia pulled your hand into hers, lacing your fingers together. “We’re okay here,” she mumbled into your shoulder as if reading your mind.
“Do you really believe that?”
“I do,” she said, coming to stand in front of you. You wrapped your arms around her and rested your chin on top of her head, imagining you could shield her from all harm this way. “Listen.”
You strained your ears, searching for alarming sounds. The wind outside stirred quietly, enough to flurry the falling snow, but not so aggressive as to rap the window pane. Beyond that there was only quiet. No footsteps prowling around the back of the house. No click of a rifle’s safety being switched off. “I do not hear anything,” you said.
“You’re listening for the wrong things,” she said.
You frowned, glancing around the quiet room. Through the closed door the lazy tune of an American Christmas song made its way to your ears. You recognized the singer. Elvis Presley. The King of Rock and Roll. Laughter charged the music with a warm undercurrent. The infectious snicker that belonged to Barton mixed with the high-pitched giggle of his son to create a different kind of melody. You dropped your shoulders and let all of the air out of your lungs. Natalia pulled you closer until her spine pressed flush into your front. Her hands felt like ice, but you didn’t mind. You had always run hot.
“Barton asked me if we were a couple on the ride up,” you said.
“Oh yeah? And what did you say?” She asked, watching the snow swirl in arcs outside. The wind rushed down, only for the next gust to excite the flakes into the navy sky again.
“I told him it was complicated. And that we are friends.”
“And what if we made it less complicated?”
You pulled away to tug off your sweatshirt, feeling feverishly warm. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what if we gave it a shot? We can call it what we want, we don’t have to call it anything at all. You could stay in my room some nights, or I could stay in yours. Maybe I’d let you kiss me,” she said, scrunching her nose and lifting one eyebrow.
You laid the shirt on the bed, folding it into a tight little rectangle. The offer dangled in the vanilla scented air, taunting you. There must be a candle burning downstairs. You wanted so badly to say yes. To give yourself over to Natalia completely. Somewhere in between your heart and your throat the words got caught. A dark entity snagged what you wanted to say in its rows of jagged teeth and ripped it to shreds. “I think our friendship works,” you said.
“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed. “I was being selfish.”
“No, you were not. You could never be selfish. I am sorry,” you said, kneeling beside your bag and placing the sweatshirt inside. You would slit your own throat if Natalia Romonava asked you to. How cruel was it that you couldn’t tell her you cared?
She crossed the softly lit bedroom, coming to rest by the door where you hung your head in defeat. “There’s nothing you need to be sorry for,” she said. Her voice washed over you and carried away some of the pain in your chest like the sea’s cool tide. Her fingers combed through the short hairs at the base of your neck. You leaned into her, resting your forehead on her leg. She smelled of the air after a storm and the beginnings of a fresh wound. “Come on. Let’s get downstairs before they put out a search warrant.”
You pushed yourself from the ground, an all too familiar action, and followed her into the greater expanse of the house.
“There you are,” Clint greeted, pulling cups out of a cabinet. “Just in time.”
“Hi,” Laura smiled, crossing the kitchen and offering a hand. “I didn’t properly introduce myself before. I’m Laura.”
“Natasha,” Natalia said, shaking the woman’s hand.
“Cooper, come wash your hands!” Clint called. The boy ran in from the living room, making a beeline for the sink.
“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Barton,” you said, clasping her hand. Her palm held faded callouses.
“Oh, please. It’s Laura. You come to my house, you call me Laura. Gosh, Mrs. Barton makes me feel old,” she said, smiling good-naturedly. “You two make me feel old. How old are you?”
“Twenty one,” Natalia answered.
“Oh, wow,” she blinked widely. “Clint, you’ve got a run for your money. You might have to retire soon.”
“Tell me about it,” he said. “You should try sparring with Nat, hon. I’ve never been more sore in my life.” Clint scooped Cooper up and set him at the table. “Alright buddy hang tight, I’m gonna go grab your sister.”
“How are you guys doing at SHIELD? Fury not giving you too much grief I hope,” Laura said, grabbing a couple of plates and handing them over.
“You know Fury?” Natalia asked, recalculating the other woman.
“Oh, yeah. I knew Fury before he was such a hotshot. I knew him when he was still an ambitious agent gunning for the reins.” She scooped a bunch of mac and cheese into a bowl and carried it around to Cooper. “Feels like yesterday I was in the field though.”
“You were a SHIELD agent?” You asked, interest peaked.
“Yep. Had a fancy codename too. People used to call me the Mockingbird.” The three of you settled at the table, plates filled with turkey and potatoes and sauteed green beans. “Don’t tell Clint I told you this but when he joined he chased after me for months before I’d even look in his direction. Don’t let him ever fool you, he’s always been a big dork.”
“Don’t tell Clint what now?” He asked, walking in with a baby in his arms. She couldn’t have been more than six months old. Natalia’s eyes went wide, her mouth parted open. She looked as if she were about to spring from her chair. You knew she had a soft spot for kids, but didn’t know it ran this deep. You looked from her to the baby and back again, head tilting. She’d never looked that excited to see you.
“Just sharing your most embarrassing moments,” Laura said.
“Great.” He took a seat, cradling the baby in one hand and picking a fork up in the other. He pointed the utensil across the table at you and Natalia. “Just remember I’m still your superior,” he said.
“The food is great, Laura,” you said in between bites. You forced yourself to slow down. You guessed you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you sat down. SHIELD cafeteria food was certainly less than subpar.
“Thank you. Clint, you better take notes from this one. The kid has better manners than you.”
“I’ll have you know that you chose to marry me,” he retorted.
“That I did,” she conceded, dipping her head. “And I’ve never had cause to regret it…so far.”
“So far? Clint asked. “How could you ever say no to this face?” He jutted his bottom lip out and pouted.
Laura shook her head and grinned, almond eyes sparkling. “You are a child. I’m raising three children.” She turned away from her husband. “Anyway, I was asking you two about SHIELD. Clint told me you’ve taken the place by storm.”
“It’s been good,” Natalia answered carefully. In the face of two senior agents, you had to choose your words carefully, even if one of them was retired from the organization. She donned a coy smile you recognized as one reserved for when she was chasing an objective and dipped her chin, peering up at the couple. “Everyone’s just been so great. We’ve been getting along perfectly, haven’t we?”
You took the signal and nodded in agreement. “I have found SHIELD to be an exceptional establishment.”
“I honestly think Fury would take that as an insult,” Clint said. “There’s no penalty for criticism. There’s a reason we’re spies and not soldiers.”
Natalia tilted her head, listening. You knew she gave the archer’s words considerable weight. “I think the director would agree that it’s considerably better than where we came from,” she said. “Which makes it near perfect in my eyes.”
Your leg bounced underneath the table, on the verge of taking off. To hear Natalia sing the song of American praise grated on your nerves. The worst thing was that she sounded genuine. She liked working under Fury. To you SHIELD was a pit stop on the way to a new life. For the woman who everyone underestimated and no one but you could decipher however, there was no escape plan, no next step. She’d convinced herself this was home.
“I’ll drink to that,” Clint said. “I’m where I am now because of SHIELD. And I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”
Laura practically beamed. “You sweet talker. I love you.” The feeling like you didn’t belong here roiled over you like a nauseating fever. You snapped to attention when you heard your name. “How are you adjusting?” Laura asked, eyes far too sympathetic.
“Fine,” you grimaced. You couldn’t help but think back on the lengths SHIELD had gone to glean information from you and remold you to a proper agent. In the end, they had been weaker than you. You were cast iron forged in the backwoods of Russia. You did not adjust. You did not yield.
“What does Fury have you working on?” She asked. “I know I can’t have the details anymore. I don’t think I’d want them anyhow, but...He’s getting you guys back out there all right?”
“Yeah. They call us Strike Team Alpha. We have been working with Agents Coulson and Hill to–,” you cut yourself off. You had been working to track down the Red Room and formulate a strategy to take out Dreykov. You complied enough to be deemed cooperative, but kept vital intelligence to yourself. Even still, time trickled away like sand in an hourglass. They’d have him before long, and you weren’t certain you could stick around to see it through. “We have been busy,” you pivoted. “We work with Clint a lot. Your husband is a good man.”
“That he is,” she agreed. “But don’t discount yourself either.”
“Do not worry,” you said. “I know exactly what kind of person I am.”
“We all think we know who we are,” Laura said. “But most of the time it’s not as simple as we think. Lives are multi-faceted and it’s impossible to understand every part of ourselves as we should.”
“She’s right, you know,” Clint added. “I never thought I’d work for the government, much less ever be a father. But here I am.” He looked down on the sleeping baby tucked in his arm, running a thumb over her chubby cheek.
Under the table Natalia tugged on your pinky finger, intertwining her finger with yours. She squeezed softly and the action sent a current all the way to your heart. She had a smile on her face when you looked over, cat-green eyes glimmering with hope. “See?” She asked. “We can be whoever we want to be now.”
You nodded, even if it was just to reassure the woman beside you. Without order, without someone’s heels to follow you didn’t know who you were. And the prospect of discovering you weren’t worthy of all you’d been given...well that scared you more than the thought of a bullet carving a neat hole through your brain.
Clint cleared his throat and stood, walking to the counter and grabbing more food. You stared at your now empty plate, stealing a glance back at the countertop with the dishes of food. You stamped down on the flare of desire in your stomach, sitting silently and stacking your hands in your lap. “You can have more,” Laura said gently.
You shook your head quickly. “I am alright.” You were to never take more than what was allotted.
“I’m serious, we’ll never eat all of this food. Please, take more,” she insisted.
You nodded, slowly getting up and slinking away from the wooden dining table. Natalia picked up the conversation. “So, you don’t work for SHIELD anymore then?”
“No,” Laura said. “I opted out of field work when I got pregnant with Cooper and when we decided to have Lila I took myself out of the game completely. Even being a deskbound spy has a way of taking over your life.” She picked up a napkin and wiped Cooper’s cheesy face off. “At that point I knew I had greater priorities than to SHIELD. Being a parent wouldn’t be everyone’s first choice but it was the right decision for me. We moved out here from the city a little over a year ago.”
“What do you do now?” Natalia asked.
“I’m a counselor for military personnel and veterans,” she said as you sat down again. Your foot caught on one of the legs and the table jumped a few inches.
“Sorry,” you cringed, gingerly pushing it back into place.
Cooper’s eyes went wide and he clapped his hands together with little coordination. “Again.”
“The table is pretty dense,” Laura explained. “We had trouble moving it in here and now Cooper’s made a game out of trying to push it around. Clint won’t touch it though, he’s worried he’ll hurt his back.”
“Ah,” you said, staring down at your lap. You didn’t like people knowing how strong you were. Nothing good had ever come from it. The serum was a fear tactic, a killer’s tool. The doctor’s at SHIELD had been practically drooling with questions when they found out, needles armed and ready behind their backs. “Must be lighter than you remember.”
“I’m done,” Cooper announced, slamming his spoon down.
“Cooper Barton!” Laura chastised. “What do we say when we’re done?”
The toddler grumbled, pushing his empty bowl away. “May I be excused?”
“Yes you may,” his mother answered.
He jumped from his chair and ran around the table back to the living room. Clint ruffled his thick brown hair as he sped past. “Attaboy,” he saluted.
Laura carried the dishes over to the sink, running the water and filling the basin. You stood abruptly, snapping to attention. “I can take care of it.” You’d been sitting around for too long and letting people work for you. You needed to do something with your hands. She waved you off, not sparing a glance. “Please,” you said, ants crawling beneath your skin.
She turned to you and something on your face must have given you away. “Okay. You’re not going to hear any argument from me.”
You gathered up the rest of the plates from the table and scraped the food scraps into the trash. Chore rotations had been part of the routine growing up and the repetitive nature of scrubbing plate after plate calmed you some.
“Let me help,” Clint offered, handing the baby off to Laura and joining you in the kitchen.
“Why don’t we go out to the den?” Laura offered to Natalia. “Let the boys clean up in here.” She whispered into the redhead’s ear as they left the room. You couldn’t make out the words.
You handed a clean plate to Clint for him to dry. “Thank you,” you said. The kitchen was cozy, all wooden floors and off-white countertops. The fridge stood across from the sink, decorated in crayon drawings and various magnets in the shape of dinosaurs.
“You’re welcome. Laura gets on me all the time for forgetting to clean up anyway. Figured I could earn some points while I’m home.”
“I meant for bringing us here,” you clarified. “It has been, nice.” Nice was a safe word. “You have a nice home. You were right. I think I was–hm, what is the term? Something crazy. Like when you are stuck inside for too long.”
“Stir crazy?”
“Ah yes. I was being stir crazy,” you said. “I am glad to be far away from the compound, from the job, all of it.”
“You were going stir crazy, not being stir crazy,” he said.
“Ah. I do not struggle with languages too much, but the figures of speech are always difficult to follow.”
“I’m glad you’re comfortable here. It’s nice to be able to share this with someone,” he admitted. “Fury is literally the only other person who knows about this part of my life. It’s kind of exhausting walking around pretending it doesn’t exist.”
LIttle footsteps came pounding around the corner and into the kitchen. Cooper crashed into Clint’s leg, tugging on his shirt to get his attention. “Mama said I have to help. Lila is sleeping,” he panted.
“Why don’t you dry this off for me, bud?” Clint handed him a rag and a plastic cup.
You watched the boy as he cleaned the cup, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. “I will protect your secret, Clint. I know Nata-” You caught yourself before finishing the second half of her name. “Natasha will too.” The sound still felt awkward on your tongue.
“Thank you,” he said, laying a warm hand on your shoulder. The muscles in your back tensed, pinching your shoulder blades together. You inhaled and counted to five. You didn’t pull away. “I’ve made a lot of dumb decisions in my life, and I mean a lot. Taking a chance on the two of you though…that I don’t think I’ll ever regret.”
Part of you preened at the praise, no matter who’s lips it fell from. The other part reared at the fact you responded to someone other than your designated handlers. “You are welcome,” you said.
“Done!” Cooper announced, handing the dry cup back to his father. “Can I go play now?”
“Yeah, sure bud. We’ll be right out.”
You put the last plate away and drained the sink before joining Natalia and Laura in the living room. You froze when you rounded the corner and saw Natalia. She held Lila in her arms, the most tender smile on her face as she watched over the baby. Laura knelt by the fireplace, stoking the logs before shutting the grate. The mantle held little framed photographs of the Barton family and red and green stockings hung over the fire. A Christmas tree stood in the corner, yellow lights shining like halos. A star topped the tree, inches away from scraping the ceiling. Natalia sat on the couch cradling the baby as she played with one of her fingers.
Cooper slid onto the bench at an upright piano, mashing away at the keys. “Not right now, Coop,” Clint said. “You ought to be winding down for bed. We all have to be asleep for when Santa comes, remember?” You blinked at the instrument, starstruck. Longing filled your chest like air in a balloon.
“Fine,” he whined, but listened and scooted from the bench.
Natalia swiveled her head, careful not to shift and disturb Lila. “Does one of you play?”
“I used to when I was little,” Laura said. “The piano belonged to my grandparents originally. I don’t think I could play much of anything anymore.”
“I can play.” Clint piped up.
“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star does not count, babe.”
“You know who can play?” Natalia spoke up. You imagined the expression on her face, one eyebrow raised and mouth poised in a smirk.
“Who?” Cooper asked, rounding the couch and sitting on the coffee table.
“I’ll give you a hint,” she said. “They’re in the room with us right now.”
“Is it me?” He pointed to himself, little eyebrows furrowed as deep as he could make them go.
“Nope,” Natalia answered, voice sing-song sweet.
“Is it you?” He twisted his head to the side and pointed at Natalia. She shook her head and Cooper looked around the room, eyes catching on his mother and father before landing on you. “Your friend,” he said.
“Yep,” she said. You could hear the smile in her voice.
“I knew it. I knew it,” he insisted.
You tore your gaze away from the piano as attention fell onto you. “Oh.” You waved them off. “I would not say I could play. I posed as a pianist in a hotel lobby for a mission once a long time ago. Memorized some music that is all. I am not classically trained.” You crossed your arms to ward off the unease that accompanied so many eyes on you.
“Do you still know it?” Laura asked.
“Yeah, I do.” Your peculiar memory would never allow you to forget. And you’d never tell a soul, but sitting there at a piano all night long had made you feel alive in a way nothing had before. But that couldn’t be. Musicians were jesters, and you were no fool.
“We’d love to hear it,” Laura said, picking Cooper up and settling down with him on her lap. “If you’re comfortable. I hate the thought of the piano just turning into decor.”
“Okay,” you said. You were never one to shy away from a task. “I am afraid I do not know any Christmas songs.”
“That’s all right. I’m sure whatever you know will be beautiful,” Laura encouraged.
Clint stood in the corner, eyes upturned to the ceiling. He perked up, springing into action. “I’ll be right back,” he said, jogging upstairs.
You took a seat on the polished wooden bench, stroking the keys and marveling at the instrument. You warmed up, playing a couple scales and conjuring the music in your mind’s eye. The patterns were as fresh as the day you had played them. The notes from the aged piano were by no means comparable to that of the expensive grand you’d used before, but somehow the music sounded sweeter here. As you struck the opening bars of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata you craned your neck to find Natalia’s gaze. She smiled at you and you couldn’t help but mirror the expression. Your heart picked up its beating and your head buzzed with a strange feeling. You felt as if you might explode with it.
You took to the music like you took to fighting, or dancing. You didn’t struggle with movement like other people did. Ever since you could remember you could watch and replicate. Eventually you learned to mimic a fighter’s strategy so that you could predict their next moves. Flay their neck into a gushing fountain before they could touch you.
Your foot pumped the pedal in time with your left hand and when you closed your eyes you could see the notes weaving into the dark. You liked how the music elicited harmony instead of chaos. Music didn’t scrape the skin from your knuckles or leave you lying on the floor with the world spinning around you. You changed the song, easing into Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat.
Clint came marching down the stairs, CD player in one hand and a disk in the other. He stayed quiet for a moment, busying himself with finding an outlet to plug the player into. Finding a natural way to end the song prematurely, you slowed your hands and lightened the force with which you struck the keys. Clint stood near the other end of the couch, doing his best to look patient.
“Barton?” You asked.
“I told you earlier that I was going to teach you the joy of Christmas music,” he said. “Well, here you go. Now you can play along and really appreciate the music.” He knelt down and pressed the play button.
An easy tune filled the living room, bathing all in attendance in a sense of peace. Time seemed to slow, and for a moment, you forgot about the world outside of the farmhouse. All that mattered was the family reaching out in embrace, two parents and a little boy. Their smiles shone brighter than the blazing fire in the hearth. You watched the woman settled on the couch, absorbed by the baby in her arms. She looked up at you as you traced the curve of her jaw with your eyes. Natalia’s pupils were wide when she met your gaze, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. You looked away first to stare at the piano instead, focusing on the music instead of the way your cheeks warmed in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.
You caught onto the song as it began to repeat, taking a shallow breath before following along. Just like with anything else music obeyed a pattern. Once you unlocked the way the parts fit together, the rest of the song revealed itself to you. All you had to do was continue the line of code. The next track played, prompting Cooper to sing along. Imperfection had never sounded so flawless.
The CD turned out song after song and you let yourself get lost in the game. You didn’t recognize any of the pieces, but Christmas music had a distinctive charm to it. Some might call it magical. You sat back for the first thirty seconds of each song, picking out the tempo and key. The notes charged your hands with energy which you poured out into the latter half of the song. Each one was unique, a victorious smile forming on your face when you pulled together the entire arrangement in your head.
When the tracklist ended you took a breath, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. Laura took Lila from Natalia, holding her tight against her shoulder. Her hand, a mother’s hand, rested on the sleeping baby’s back. “I’m going to put her down,” she said, just loud enough to be heard.
“Hey bud.” Clint gently shook Cooper awake from where he’d fallen asleep on the couch against his leg. “It’s time to brush our teeth and go to bed.”
The boy only turned further into Clint’s body, refusing to be stirred.
Clint stood and picked him up. “I’ll be right back,” he said.
Only after his footsteps had receded upstairs did either one of you move. Natalia pushed herself from the couch and stretched. Her arms extended toward the ceiling with a dancer’s grace. She took a seat next to you on the bench and laid her head on your shoulder. “That was amazing,” she said. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
“That is all you,” you said. “I did not know you were so good with babies.”
“Me neither,” she admitted. “When Laura asked me to hold her I was so nervous at first. I thought I might drop her or pinch her or that I’d make her cry.” She lifted her head, her gaze soft as a lamb’s. You wanted to preserve it so that no one may ever taint it, including from yourself. “But she was okay.”
“That is because you are a good person. They say babies have a sixth sense for that sort of thing. Like dogs.”
“But, I’ve hurt so many people,” she said, voice fragile like a twig in a storm. “I’m afraid…I'm afraid I’ll never be able to redeem myself.”
“No. Do not say that, Natalia. You are the best person I know. The fact you care so much means you are already there.” You huffed a quick exhale. “I think you are the only person who cannot see how big your heart is.”
“They say the holidays are for spending time with the people you love the most,” she whispered, tracing the lines on your palm with her finger.
You stayed quiet.
“I’m glad that I’m here with you,” she said.
Another window, another chance to dive off the deep end. I think I’m in love with you, you thought. The laws of society had been drilled into your head by the Madames and reinforced by what little exposure of the world you’d received. Natalia stood in defiance to all of them. She was a sapling in a field of ash, and refused to be uprooted. She turned to grace like you turned to anger. She was infecting you, and you couldn’t push her away.
Footsteps sounded down the stairs and you shut your previously parted mouth. The words scattered into the recesses of your throat. “Hey guys,” Clint said. “The kids are down and Laura and I still have a lot of Santa’s work to do. You’re more than welcome to stay down here and watch TV or whatever. We’ll be around. Just holler if you need anything.”
“Okay,” Natalia said. “Thank you.” He turned to go. “And Clint. Merry Christmas.” She smiled.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, giving a sharp nod.
You yawned. Between the food and the warmth and the music, tiredness had snuck up on you. “Let’s go upstairs,” Natalia said.
“Okay.” You left the piano behind and made your way upstairs. You brushed your teeth and splashed water on your face in the hall bathroom. The shower curtain was adorned with colorful flaming monster trucks and a little blue step stool gave height before the sink. Cooper must have primary use of this one.
Natalia sat on the edge of the mattress in the bedroom, untangling her braid with deft fingers. You stole a pillow and dropped it on the floor on the other side near the door. “What are you doing?” She asked.
“I am going to sleep.” You didn’t meet her eyes.
“Why are you being weird? We’ve slept in the same bed before,” she said.
“That was different,” you insisted.
“How so?” She asked, infuriatingly patient.
You crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your shoulders back, shadows of old handlers and teachers flickering behind your eyes. “Because…because there were lines before. Ones we did not cross.” Emotional ones. “It was survival. You were a warm body.”
A smudge of hurt clouded over Natalia’s bright eyes. She blinked and it disappeared. “You don’t mean that.”
You paced the length of the room, wishing you could run farther. You meant it and you also didn’t. “Of course not. I am sorry,” you breathed.
“Then come here. All we’re doing is sleeping. I’m not letting you stay on the floor like a dog.” She combed through her hair, waves of red cascading down past her shoulders.
Except it wasn’t just sleeping. If you indulged in this vice once you’d never want to quit it. You’d paw desperately at her door every night. You shook your head and backed away like a spooked horse. “I have slept in worse places.”
“Is it me?” She asked, shoulders slumping with the words. “Do you not trust me?”
“No. No, it is not you.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
You shook your head as if to fling the question away. The problem was that you weren’t cut out for relationships of any kind. Didn’t she know how dangerous you were? Shouldn’t she know that you bit? “There is no problem.”
“I know you well enough to know when you’re not telling me something.” You started to get the feeling this wasn’t really about where you slept anymore.
“Can we talk about this in the morning?” You tried, rubbing furiously at the back of your head.
“No. I hate feeling like you’re not comfortable around me,” she said. “Is there something wrong with me?”
“No. I trust you with my life. You know that.” Your voice cracked at the end. It was never her fault, and you hated yourself for not being able to be what she needed. To reassure and support her. To be normal.
“Then please, tell me what’s going on.”
“I–”
“What are you so afraid of?” She asked the question at barely more than a whisper, but the words lit a spark in you like a gunshot.
“Leave it Natalia,” you commanded in Russian, spinning on your heel. You fixed her with a cold stare, no longer seeing her as you should be. Perched on the bed sat the Black Widow, and she had broken rank.
“No,” she scolded, rising to meet the challenge. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. We are not in the Red Room. Do you understand?” Anyone else and you would have seized them and smacked them clean across the cheek. Anyone else and they’d have a dozen fresh bruises to remind them of their place. But this was Natalia. And you’d never hurt Natalia. You clenched your jaw and drew your lips back, fighting the urge to pound the wall in.
“I hate you.” You felt as if you’d just barely outran an onslaught of attackers, and they were still watching.
“No you don’t,” she said, face still as marble and expressive as a wall of stone.
“Why are you here? Why will you not leave? You are the reason I am like this,” you said, voice cracking as a growing child's did. If it wasn’t for her you’d be perfect, you knew it. Instead she tempted you down a path of distraction, convinced you to embrace weakness.
“I’m here because I will always stand beside you. Always,” she said as if it was all too simple.
“But you left. You were going to die and leave me alone.” Defecting to SHIELD had not been her original plan. Letting them kill her was. Lucky it had been Clint Barton behind the trigger that night. “And now I am stuck here because of you and I hate it.”
“You feel stuck?” For a second the wall slipped and a flash of hurt escaped Natalia’s gaze.
“Yes,” you said. “I do. You ruined my life.” Red hot anger ignited itself within you. And it was all aimed at the woman before you.
“I didn’t make you do anything. I never have,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re here because you know deep down that the Red Room is an awful place. A place that takes little children and beats them into weapons.”
“It made us strong.”
“It broke us.”
You grimaced and kicked aimlessly at the ground. “I still cannot stand it here.” The wrath began to dissipate. Shame swelled to take its place.
“We are safer now than we ever have been.”
“I cannot trust you. You are a Widow. You–You are lying to me. You always have been.” Paranoia twisted smiles into smirks, kind words into carefully crafted scalpels. She’d learn all of your weaknesses and leave you gutted on top of her rotting pile of victims.
“I am not a Widow. Not anymore. Do you understand?”
You grunted an acknowledgement.
“Markov.” She called your surname. “Yes or no.”
“Yes,” you ground out. “I understand.” Regret pooled in your belly like bile. She had asked what you were so afraid of and you’d gone and shown her. The closer Natalia became the less control you felt you had. Emotions twisted together in a whirlwind inside your head, mutating into a throbbing mass of anger. Natalia handled her emotions, always choosing the correct words and wearing the face she wanted people to see. Dreykov had taught you that pretty words were for the Widows and the women. Unchecked, the rage festered until your hands shook with it. “I do not want to hurt you,” you said, switching back to English with an accent hanging heavy over the words.
“I know,” she sighed. “But you do, you know. When you lash out at me it hurts.”
A dozen excuses ran through your head. None of them even came close to making it up. You were just a bad person. “This is why you have to let me sleep on the floor.” You felt as though you’d finally been allowed to regain control of your body after some raging force had overtaken you. It left you dizzy with the shame of your words.
Natalia didn’t say anything. Her green gaze bore straight through you. Vulnerability raked at your spine as if she held your bleeding heart in her fist.
“Please,” you added. You did not beg.
“You can sleep on the floor,” she relented. The cool release of relief soothed your aching mind. “But you have to promise me something.”
“Okay.”
“Promise me that when we get back you’ll work on talking through whatever’s going on in your mind. If not with me that’s fine. But you have to talk to someone.”
The offer was steep. The urge to shut it all in was more than an instinct. Being guarded was the key to your survival. “Fine.” If tearing yourself apart meant Natalia could find peace, you would rip the flesh away yourself. “I can do that.”
She blinked as if she hadn’t expected you to agree. “Here.” She held out a blanket that had been folded at the end of the bed.
“Thank you.” You shut off the light and laid on the floor. For a moment before your eyes adjusted you couldn’t see a thing besides pitch black. Your heart thundered in your chest as shapes began to fall back into focus. The rectangle dresser, the thick bed frame, the moonlight filtering in through the blinds on the window. Covered in the rather large blanket and supported by the carpeted floor you fell asleep.
You dreamt most nights. Vivid atrocities doused in blood and the screams of pigs to the slaughter. The tip of a sword, plunged through the hearts of the guilty and innocent alike. A metal fist, knocking you sideways and ramming you in the face until your eyes swelled shut. Never stopping until its master called it off. Faceless bodies behind surgical masks, watching as you writhed under a spotlight like a bug under a magnifying glass. A burn beneath your skin so violent your jaw locked with the pain and you felt as if you couldn’t even draw the tiniest of breaths.
None of them held a candle to the nightmare that cursed you tonight. It had visited since you were small, and it came often. Not just the feeling, but the memory of being suspended in limbo.
Your limbs froze, even your neck refused to lift your head as you stared at a single spot on the popcorn ceiling. The walls, the fear-soaked smell of your own sweat, the buzz of a lamp to your right all closed in on you. You couldn’t cry, you couldn’t speak, it took everything you had just to breathe.
Time stretched on and all you could do was lay there and stare at the ceiling. You tried to focus on the drone of the lamp instead of the heavy panting a foot away from you. But you never could completely. Your chest constricted with every breath but never reached the point of constriction. Your stomach crackled with repulsion, but bile never rose into your throat. You forever hung teetering on the edge, violation wrapped around your frail body.
I’m trapped. I’m trapped. I’m trapped. I’m–
Your eyes flew open and you sat up, knocking skulls with someone else. A strangled noise leapt from your mouth into the silent air. No buzzing lamp. No heavy breathing besides your own. Your limbs had become tangled in a blanket and you thrashed to free yourself.
Your head snapped up at the sound of your name. The word lassoed your mind and hauled you to the present. Concerned green eyes peered at you in the dark. You knew those eyes. For a second you imagined they belonged to a child no older than thirteen. She wasn’t supposed to be in your room. She wasn’t supposed to see you like this. “What are you doing in here?” You thrust your hand out to keep her away. “Get out.”
“Hey,” Natalia said, voice as gentle as the evening breeze. Her kindness would get her killed. She spoke your name again and the illusion dissolved some more. “You’re safe. You were dreaming. We’re at Clint Barton’s house in Iowa.”
You got to your feet on shaky legs, looking through the woman in front of you. The room around you was not the one in the lingering dream and not the one you grew up sleeping in.
A cool hand found your cheek and tilted your gaze down. “Come back,” Natalia said.
The shadows fled, no match for her. Not truly gone, but subdued for now. “I am sorry I woke you,” you said.
“Don’t apologize.” She drew a breath. “I was awake anyways.”
“I guess sleep is not especially kind to either of us.”
“No. I guess not.”
She pulled away, stepping into the splash of moonlight on the wall. You thought she looked like an angel, or maybe a ghost. Either way she looked ethereal, as if she might turn to smoke if you reached out to touch her.
“I thought you said you’d grown out of them,” she whispered, facing the light, and away from where you hunkered out of its reach.
Your jaw twitched. “I lied.”
She nodded to herself. Disappointed but not surprised. You thought she might berate you for it, present a list of the consequences until they were seared into your brain. Instead she just extended a hand and said, “Come here.”
You fell into her and let her pull you onto the edge of the bed. You sat there, feet planted on the floor. “I hope I did not wake anyone else,” you said.
“You didn’t,” she said, settling down beside you. “You were so quiet. I almost didn’t notice something was wrong.”
“What happened?”
“I just…had the feeling something was wrong. That I needed to check on you.” She turned your forearm up and traced her thumb over the pulse point on your wrist. “Your forehead was all sweaty and you were breathing super fast. You seemed so scared.”
“I am okay,” you said.
“It’s okay to not be sometimes. I think I’m starting to learn that.”
“I really am.” You wanted to say more. You chewed on your lip, staring at the door as if it could tell you what to do. Natalia, so small yet stronger than you in a million ways. She deserved to know how much she meant to you. “I am always more than okay when you are with me. You make me feel safe.”
“Do you mean it?” Her eyes met yours, pupils blown amidst the fern green iris. You wondered if it was because of you or the dark.
“Yes,” you said. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I think…I would go through all of it again just to keep you.”
“I don’t know if I’m worth that much.” You wished she could see herself through your eyes so that she understood.
“Natalia Romanova, you are worth the entire world.” Hesitantly you leaned over and kissed her temple, lips just grazing the soft skin. You pulled away, scanning her face for any sign of reproach. “Was that okay?”
“It was more than okay,” she said. She leaned her weight against you, shoulders pressing into each other.
You sat like that for a while, listening to the sound of her gentle breathing and basking in the peaceful moment. Maybe if you could remember how you felt now you could summon the strength to serve SHIELD. You allowed your mind to wander to places you normally didn’t entertain. Someday you and Natalia would have your own place like this. A bubble no one else could touch where you could sit just like this every night. You would never have it though, only the filmy mirage of pretense.
Natalia moved to the other side of the bed, laying down on her side. “Come lay down with me,” she said.
You didn’t want to return to the floor, but you weren’t sure you could stay on the bed either.
“Please.” Behind you the best dipped and a pair of arms slid around you. One of her hands came to rest right above your heart. She tucked her chin into the space between your neck and shoulder and involuntarily, you dropped your head against hers. “It is Christmas after all.”
Natalia tugged you down and you let her, lowering yourself until your back was flush against the mattress and your head lay in her lap. You refused to move your legs, leaving them draped over the side. “I am so sorry for the things I said earlier. I did not mean it.” Shame stabbed at your lungs and behind your eyes. Your jaw ached with it, and your tongue was sour with traces of your own bitterness.
“It’s okay. I understand,” she said. You didn’t deserve her tenderness.
“You should not have to, Natalia. It is not fair for you to deal with.”
“Remember when we promised each other we’d never leave the other one alone?”
You huffed a dry laugh. “We could not have been more than fourteen years old.”
“So more than old enough to know what we were saying,” she countered.
“It will happen again,” you said, tone darkening.
“And I’ll be there when it does.”
“I cannot control it. Sometimes things happen and I feel everyone is out to get me.” You flicked your gaze away from her face. “Then the shouting and the hateful words and the rage comes. I do things I cannot take back.”
“That’s why you need people who know that that isn’t really you. Who know you’re kind and loyal to the bone. Who will help you heal.”
“I am not sick,” you insisted.
“I know. But we need to understand whatever this is,” she said. “Before it gets you into trouble with the wrong people.”
You took a deep breath, ribs shuddering like the bars of a rusted cage. “I am scared,” you whispered.
Natalia ran a calloused hand across your cheek. “I know,” she said. “Just know you’re not alone. We’ll figure this out together.”
You nodded your head, afraid that speaking might reveal the lump in your throat.
“Come on, let’s get some rest,” she said, tugging on the collar of your shirt.
“You are unbelievable,” you mumbled.
“What happened to me being the best person ever?”
“You can be both.”
She peered down at you, eyes alight with mischief. “I haven’t heard a ‘no’.”
Exhaustion had broken down your resolve, and you’d have a better chance of sleeping through the rest of the night in the bed. “Okay.” Your agreement had nothing to do with the way Natalia blinked slowly at you, nor the way she had taken to sifting her fingers through your hair.
“Finally,” she said, lips quirking up in a victorious smile. “You’re almost as stubborn as me. Not quite though.”
“Yeah, whatever,” you said, pushing yourself fully onto the bed. “Do not make me change my mind.”
You laid down and Natalia settled her head on your chest. “You’re so warm,” she said.
“Is that why you wanted me up here? Cause you were cold?”
“No,” she said as she pressed her cheek further into your collarbone. “Go to sleep.”
“Goodnight Natalia.”
“Goodnight.”
You woke in the morning not to the terror of memory infiltrating your mind but to sunlight illuminating the space before your eyelids. You blinked rapidly, clearing away the morning bleariness. You couldn't recall the last time you had started your day after sunup.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Natalia said, still buried into your side. Under the sheet her legs tangled up in yours.
You yawned, stretching your arms above your head. “Have you been awake long?”
“No,” she said. “Just a few minutes maybe. I think we should get up though. I imagine Cooper will be awake soon. It would be cruel to keep him waiting. I remember how exciting Christmas morning was.” She said, sounding far away. “It wasn’t real, but…there is something really magical about this time of year.”
You rubbed gentle circles on her upper back in between her shoulder blades where you knew she held tension. “It is real now, no? For the Bartons and for us, Christmas means something?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, crinkles around her eyes when she looked at you. “This is real.” You had a feeling she wasn’t referring to the holidays anymore.
“Before we go downstairs I have something for you,” you said. You palmed the thin silver necklace that had been stored in your bag. “Turn around and close your eyes.”
“Should I be nervous?” She asked as she faced away from you.
“No, no.” You clasped the chain around her neck. “Okay you can look now.”
Natalia examined the charm, cupping it in her hand. “I um—I didn’t get you anything.”
“And you do not need to,” you said. “You are all I could ever want.”
“Where’d you get it?”
“Clint took me out. I was saving it for the right time. Now seemed perfect.” You looked at the little silver sword strung hilt to blade tip along the necklace. Your signature weapon. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said, smiling up at you in a way that made your head go empty and quiet. You felt as if everything might be okay when she smiled at you.
“It is, uh…It is to remind you that I am always on your side. That I am always with you even when it may seem like I am not.” Your heart pounded with fear she may reject the gift. She would cast it aside, and you with it.
“It’s perfect,” she said instead. “You’re perfect.”
“Merry Christmas Natalia.”
“Merry Christmas.”
A/N: The drive from D.C. to Iowa is definitely NOT doable in the time they make it in the story.
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Rarities
Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!Albino!reader
Douma has been keeping you away from Muzan. He soon finds out and requests an both of you into the mansion. Because what demon wouldn’t be intrigued by a human that is sensitive to the sun. Angst, fluff. Reader is albino and therefore has the characteristics of albanism. Muzan is most likely out of character. This was a requested fic, however the original post kept deleting itself so I needed to scrap it and make a new one. Thanks to @cursetopia for requesting this it was interesting to write.
Your Pov
The room as cold and darkly lit as the only light was from a single candle on the far side of the room. Not that I minded absence of light as the sun was nearly umberable. I sat on my bed that master Douma provided me after "good behavior" or whatever that means. I can't leave or he'll kill me and my family and I can't risk that. How I long to see them, despite my apprearence they never hated me like the other villagers did. All they ever did was show me love. I curse the day that I was born. I stuck out everywhere, so its really no surprise that I was captured. In truth I hated myself and I despiretly wished I was normal because at least I'd have the chance at a regular life instead of being held captive by a demon.
The candle suddenly went out as I felt the room get even colder than before and I knew that he was here. His breath tickled the back of my skin and despite him randomly coming into my room, I forgot how to breathe.
"Ah you still get nervous when I see you, such a cute pet." He cooed that caused me to shudder internally. "You get to out today. My master wants to meet you." Douma spoke with annoyance
"Why?" I asked quietly
"You should know this by now, we demons are quite fond of humans that cannot be in the sun. Its almost like you're a demon yourself. Plus, your complextion is quite rare indeed. You're like a precious artifact." He cooed picking me up bridal style. I then suddenly found myself in a very large well lit room that seemed to go every which way. I was in awe as master Douma had never taken me to this place before.
"So this is the rare human that you have been keeping from me Douma?" A voice boomed overhead. I quickly shot my head up to see who this voice belonged to only to be met with gleaming pink-red eyes, that were somewhat similar to mine.
"Yes, my Lord Muzan this is her. Isn't she just ravishing, such a rare gem ought to be owned only by demons, don't you think?" My master cooed taking a strand of my snowy hair between his fingers. "She is my favorite pet." My master boasted.
"Tell me girl, how does the sun feel to you?" He questioned
"My Lord, the sun has always hurt my skin and I find it harder to see during the day." I spoke honestly and as respectfully as I could in a situation as nerve racking as this one. He nodded quietly and looked as though he was pondering something.
"She will come with me." Lord Muzan ordered suddenly.
"My Lord I have been taking care of this human for many years now, so she belongs to me." Master Douma spat. Muzan, without warning, then sent my masters head flying and I gasped at his speed and strength.
"Consider this payment for being an utter failure to me. I should kill you, but one of the upper moons was just killed recently, so I will be sparing you just this once." Lord Muzan demanded. Just as quick as it was gone, master Douma's head was now replace with a new one.
"Yes, My Lord." Douma bowed in defeat. He looked in my eyes and for the first time I noticed utter fear and hatred laced in them. I that look was not for me, but for the man that he called 'Lord.'
"Come girl." He ordered tunring from me and walking who-knows-where. I said nothing and followed knowing full well that if I did not, I might end up like master Douma, only I could not grow another head.
The sound of strumming vibrated the room and I felt the ground beneath me shift from up under my feet. As quick as a breath, I found myself standing in a semi well lit room that smelled like lavender and cherry blossoms. It was a rather large room with four doors, a large bed, bookcases filled with books, and decorated in many different fresh flowers. The room master Douma provided me was small and cold and most nights I had to bundle myself up just to feel an ounce of warmth. However, this room was engulfed with warmth, but not too much that the heat was overpowering. I looked upon the room freely until once more Lord Muzan was right in front of me and I found myself looking into similar colored eyes once more.
"This is where you will be staying from now on. If you should need anything on of the maids will see to it. If they can't, then your needs will be met by me. The room is connected to a house that you are free to wonder in. However, if you wish to go outside you must tell one of the maid that you are doing so. I will allow you to also see your family three times a year to keep you happy. They will also be kept safe as well." Lord Muzan spoke calmly
"Thank you, My Lord!" I nearly exclaimed at the thought of seeing my family again. "Forgive the question, but why have you gone to so much trouble?" I asked cringing at the fact that I even asked him this.
"I am not overly fond of anyone questioning me, but considering your situation I will allow it just once. Do you understand?" He quickly spat and I nodded my head showing my understanding as my words failed me. "You are here because you are a human worthy of life. Your unnatural hair is similar to that of a demons. As is your skin that is pale and lifeless yet beautiful. And your eyes that share a similar shade to mine, make you worthy of life and my protection. You, girl, are the very definition of a rarity and something that must be protected from humans and demons alike." Lord Muzan procalaimed stepping closer to me with a look in his eyes that I couldn't understand. I could feel his breath hit my face and I felt small as he towered over me. I was shocked to say the least as no one has ever truly told me I was worthy of life, not even master Douma. I slightly winced at the realization that other humans were trash to him, but I can't argue with him or else I would most likely suffer. "I must go now, there are things that I must attend to." Muzan spoke and just as quick as I met him, he was gone.
I let go a shaky breath that I was holding and walked over to the bed. Throwing myself on it I sighed in contentment to how soft it was. The room was comfortable to say the least, but now my situation was worse than before. I was being held hostage by Lord Muzan himself, but my tiredness washed away the feeling of panic. As did my relization that I would indeed be taken care of, but for how long. My eyes grew heavy and soon enough I closed my eyes and drifted off into the best sleep that I had gotten in years with thoughts of the man with similar eyes to mine.
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#demon slayer muzan#muzan kibutsuji#muzan kibutsuji x reader#muzan kibutsuji x you#muzan x reader#muzan x y/n#muzan x you#muzan demon slayer#albino reader#requested fic.#demon slayer#demon slayer x y/n#demon slayer fics#demon slayer fanfic
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SYNOPSIS: Lyney has a patience of a saint, but he's had enough of this game of cat and mouse. This time, he wants you, and no one will stop him for getting what he wants. (2nd POV) [ IDENTITYV AU ]
TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking (he's chasing you), minor character death (other survivors died), emotional manipulation, Arle teaches him how to """metaphorically""" cut off someone's 'wings', ooc Lyney and Arle, gore, teeth, Lyney is unhinged
You couldn't remember what tipped him off. It could be from your actions, or it could be from what you said. Hell, it may as well be something that you unknowingly did that offended him— something that would normally not be a bother to him that became its own trigger.
Whatever it could be, you were in the other end of such a horrible fate. And alas, the last place you wished you didn't end up in had to be the one you loathed the most.
The eerie chimes of the bell echoing around the haunted town continued to plague your senses, followed by the faint meowing of the grin-malkin cats as you sprinted for your dear life.
You can hardly focus on what is there and isn't there, as all you had is to get the hell out of here and save this sinking match.
Your only task is to survive.
Survive the madness of the man that loved you in such a twisted, horrible way.
You were his rabbit, and Eversleeping Town was the location of his greatest show yet— a show that will capture not just your attention, but your own will.
Granted, the ever forgiving Illusionist made a simple deal— if you get out by any means necessary, be it the dungeon, exit gate, or, hell— even by completing the ciphers with your companions or saved by the Nightingale… He'll let you go.
However, should you go down, he would consider that as a win of his own, and that meant you cannot leave this forsaken match that you're under.
It's why you were prepared. You came with a companion or two that can assist you, even if it had its own drawbacks.
Alas, this did not stop the Knave from simply going after them first, leaving only 4 ciphers and the dungeon still hidden and closed from many prying eyes. You were clever to cover your tracks, but he is more so with removing the most trickiest companions yet.
…
Or, that's what many may think.
The Knave bas been taught from the best of the best— his "Father" has taught him of how to, in simpler terms, keep a bird from flying away in its cage.
Should Lyney need it, he needed to learn one crucial detail: he needed to learn just how to clip his beloved's wings first and keep them in his cage.
After all, if he had found a way to do such a thing… the outcome of the match will be nothing but predictable.
And the Knave thrives off of the uncertainty, and especially with being dubbed the Trickster of Eversleeping.
He'll let you off for now. He'll let you scurry around, trying and praying that he never catches wind of your antics.
After all, the moment he catches you, you will have to pray to whatever God you believed in that he feels nice enough to not take you down to his very grave.
"Now, Lyney," he could vaguely hear 'Father' speak as she handed him his cards. Gesturing right before them was the sight of someone bound in the chair. The magician stood as he saw the stranger shake and struggle, trying to say something under the gag.
"You must learn how to use your tricks to matters such as this. I'm sure it will be hard, but I have faith that you can do it."
He seemed rather hesitant to speak with how the fool was trying and failing to scream. To beg, even. It was a pathetic sight if Lyney didn't had morals... Which he had, much to 'Father's' chagrin.
Oh well. It wasn't as though having morals can be a bad thing. Maybe it was better, so she can use it to her advantage.
"Take this, Lyney."
She hands the young magician an item. One that can be used with just a bit of force.
"Now, let Father teach you how to clip a bird's wings. All you have to do is watch and follow my lead. You can do that, right?"
He turned his gaze to the taller woman, then to the item she handed to him. The sight of the iron and leather caught his attention, and especially with the ends of it's 'mouth' being bloodied.
Pliers.
He should've dropped it the moment he had it. He should have done that and not agree. It was brutal to harm another person, and he knew that.
... But his 'Father' would simply dangle the life of Lynette over his head. She could simply threaten to send Lynette off to a dangerous mission, especially one where dying is guaranteed.
Many have died, and Lyney was not a stranger to that.
However, his sister was special. She was the only one he had left, and she to him. Should she die, he didn't knew what he'd end up doing.
And so, with a deep breath, he nodded and faced his 'Father'.
"Yes, Father."
...
That day didn't end in a simple case of dental work.
But he learned how to 'clip' a person's wings in exchange.
Your chest began to heave as you traversed through the empty buildings of the town, fatigue catching up to you the more you spent running.
Although your legs ached and begged for a break, you continued running, feeling the rush from behind you— one from the grin-malkin cats.
Now, one can say that you thought covering your tracks was a skill you need to learn. And with that, you assumed it to be the case. However, you've yet to learn that it was better not to underestimate a hunter's skills.
A lesson that Lyney, a man whom you've helped when you were both survivors, would be more than happy to teach you.
As you vaulted over an open window, you felt the air grow harsh as it whipped you on your descent, your feet landing on the pavement. Feeling your muscles tighten, you grit your teeth and sprinted onwards.
Come on, I just need to get to the graveyard. I can lose him from there!
Alas, you were not gifted with the matter of stamina. Just as you've reached past the tracks of the tram, you could hear Lyney speak from behind you.
"Look at what we have here! Scurrying off, are we?"
And then, you felt it.
Pain.
The harsh hit from Rosseland, his cat, as you vaulted over the window leading to the land of tombstones sent you flying; your back soon collided with one of the worn headstones, making you groan in pain.
In the midst of your suffering, Lyney vaulted through the window, his purple eyes twinkling as he crouched down to look at you.
"My, my, my little rabbit," he tutted, chuckling as he watched you crawl away from him with no avail. "Haven't we made a deal? If you manage to escape this match, I'll let you go. But since you went down... I get to keep you. Do you remember that?"
... You kept your mouth shut.
"... [Name]," he said, his right hand reaching over to grab your neck. "Answer me. Do you remember what our agreement is?"
"... I do."
And yet it feels like it's stacked against me.
Coughing, you turned your head away from him. You didn't need to see his face to know that he was happy to hear your agreement to the matter.
"See? It isn't so hard to agree, now, is it?" he asked with a lit of his voice. "Now, my darling... Now that I have you, I'd like for you to answer a few questions for me."
Questions?
"... And if I refuse?"
Lyney laughed at that, but his voice was less composed. Perhaps it was more manic.
"Ahahahaha! What makes you think you're able to refuse, my little hare?" he asked, his eyes closed before reaching up to grab your chin. With an iron grip, he turned your head to him, his eyes open to face you with a chilling smile.
"I'd hate to have you toy with me like that. You know that, right?"
You wanted to say otherwise, but you were already incapacitated. If you ever decided to counter his claim, you knew that he would do worse than simply chairing you to one of the... Less than desirable chairs with rockets strapped onto them.
".. Fine," you breathed out. "I agree."
"Splendid," he said, pulling his gloved hand away to grab his hat. As he pulled it off of his head and turned it upside down, he reached his left to slip inside.
"Now, I don't want to you to force my hand. It's only a few questions that I want you to answer, and if you answer them truthfully... I may spare you by chairing you myself."
You didn't knew what that meant...
... Up until you saw a pair of pliers peek out from his hand, the dull gleam of iron greeting your horrified face.
"But if you lied, I'll have to resort to some more... Drastic measures."
The hours you two spent together was, in short, torture.
You couldn't count the amount of times that your teeth got yanked with those metal ones, the pain and blood gushing as you wailed.
You could count other ways that would be better than feeling metal graze and nick at them. You could've asked for simply to be drugged, to face death by his hands, to bleed onto the ground that he walked on.
However, death was not a fate worse than this. And Lyney— rather, the Lyney you see now, not the one you know of— was a man who had a manic streak hidden under that smile.
As he yanked the nineteenth tooth out of you, he turned his head down to see blood drip down and stain your clothes. He scowled and placed his pliers down with four teeth now on his right side, grabbing a handkerchief to wipe the blood away.
He knew it was pointless. You did, too.
Maybe it was a way to distract yourself from the pain, and for him to justify his actions in doing such a thing.
Alas, delusions can only take you so far, and pain is karma's many mistresses. One of many that everyone in the manor is familiar with, you and Lyney included.
"Shhh..."
He began to dab the cloth more as blood spilled and tainted the fabric, his smile empty of its sympathy for your decision to lie to him. All he could see before him was his darling, whose way, way too stubborn for his good.
And one that is good to make him lose his patience.
"I have warned you, haven't I?" he asked, his voice chilling yet sickeningly sweet while he pulled the handkerchief away. Tossing it to a direction he could care less to look, he grabbed another from his hat to continue his 'treatment'.
"If you had simply stayed truthful, you wouldn't have to loose your teeth! And yet, you didn't listen," he concluded, tutting as you sobbed and turned your head from him.
"I pity you, my dear hare. But it's the price to pay with how you didn't listen to my warnings."
When the blood stopped spilling, he placed the bloodied fabric and stared at his handiwork. From the answers he got from you, he was quite... Intrigued with what you told him.
"Now... I'm going to ask you one more time."
Grabbing the now bloodied pliers, he positioned it to your twentieth tooth, ignoring the sobs you let out and your gaze full of fear.
"Do you prefer my dear sister, Lynette?"
He could hear your breath heave as the metal 'teeth' of the pliers began to tighten.
However, the answer you gave him was interesting... Especially when you whispered out 'yes' with your greatest efforts.
...
"Is that so?"
He couldn't help but laugh. So, you do prefer Lynette, his sister... Over him? What a farce!
He may care for his sister to death, but he would rather have you than her survive to be his lifelong assistant.
Especially now that his 'Father' gave him the role of Knave, and how his siblings have been punished for trying to go against him and save that sorry excuse of magician. Himself.
"Ah, I see how it is," he said, his voice merely a wheeze as his hand shook. However, it went still and firm once more, and he gave you a lopsided smile.
"Do you remember what I've told you before, hm? Back when we were simply 'survivors' in this forsaken manor?"
Your body shook.
"Magicians generally do not reveal the core secrets behind their tricks," he said, his smile widening. "And especially if it concerns their heart. However, I may just revoke that if you call me 'Master Lyney' and swear to be my only assistant— and only me."
He could see that you were shaking even more, and the fear was what drove him mad. Alas, he knew that he might nick at your gums if he got too rough.
Not that you mind, right?
"I'm curious how much of it you'd understand," he concluded, leaning over to continue in a whisper.
"And how long you'd last, hehe~"
And thus, he yanked your twentieth tooth, causing your screams to erupt all through the barren town and the Illusionist to shiver in glee. He always enjoyed the thought of performing, but maybe he has lost it while staying here for so long.
Putting the pliers away, he hushed you and began to rock your body, uncaring of the sobbing and your blood staining his attire.
"I just wish to make a point. And I hope you understand that, my assistant."
Alas, the day cannot last forever. Lyney knew that, and it's why he decided to do one last trick.
Covering your eyes, he grabbed a crimson red handkerchief— one tainted with your blood— and covered your face. With a whisper, he pulled it away, leaning back to see his handiwork.
"And... Voila!"
He seemed rather smug as he saw teeth were back in your mouth, each one untainted and straight like new. Still, the damage was done, as you continued to sob and wail, begging for him to not do it again.
...
That day didn't end in a simple denture fix, that he's certain of.
But he utilized what 'Father' taught him all those years ago.
And that was good enough.
@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023
#💌 ;; message delivery#💌 ;; from: lyney#💌 ;; post: genshin impact#💌 ;; to: gen. neutral reader#tw: death#tw: gore#tw: teeth#genshin lyney#genshin impact lyney#lyney#lyney x reader#genshin#genshin impact#yandere lyney#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin x you#yandere genshin x gender neutral reader#yandere lyney x reader#yandere x you#yandere drabble#yandere writing#yandere x reader
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Gentle Hands
Ilsa Faust x Fem! Reader (NSFW- RATED EXPLICIT)
Summary: What happens when a dangerous spy gets disavowed? She goes right back to her roots. It’s unfortunate that those roots land her into a months long obsession with the current tenant of her childhood home.
Warnings: Yandere/Stalker Ilsa- Non-consensual watching of intimate activities, clothes stealing (panty stealing), non-con touching of non-sexual areas, masturbation (Reader and Ilsa)
A/N: I do not condone this behavior in real life. This is a character study, get OFF my ass. <3
Word Count: 2.0K
[Told from Ilsa's POV, third person.]
It was normal, to be this involved in someone’s life, certainly. If everyone had the skills that Ilsa did they would do what Ilsa did. This girl, this (Reader), she was interesting. Unusually so. She'd done good things to Ilsa's childhood town home. There were plants everywhere, and the windows no longer fogged over in the winter, which meant she'd probably renovated the old town home herself. Or perhaps the landlords had changed. Ilsa didn't look into those details; those were boring, useless details. What was more interesting than the renovations was the person who continued to spruce up the home. Fresh wallpaper had been put up the day Ilsa had knocked on the door. Ilsa remembered this very clearly, using her proficiency for keen detail retainment to remember the day vividly.
Fall leaves clung to the stone pathway that led up to the town home. Ilsa knocked on the door of her childhood home, fully prepared for any sort of introduction, any sort of grumpy old geezer swinging the door open and letting out a tired 'What are ya ringing the door bell for, love?'. But that wasn't what happened.
'Hiya, how can I help you?' a soft voice asked, opening the door to reveal a kind looking young woman.
'Hi, I'm Ilsa Auster, I used to live here. I wanted to take a look around the old house for a moment, check to see if anyone I knew still lived here.' Ilsa softly explained.
The young woman smiled back.
'Oh, I see. My name is (Reader). I'm afraid I don't recognize you or know too much about the previous tenants.'
'I wouldn't expect you to, this was years ago, you see.' Ilsa smiled thinly.
The young woman seemed to pause for a moment, deciding on something.
'Well if you'd like to come in and have a cup of tea, you're more than welcome to.' she offered, so sweet.
Ilsa had come in for tea. She'd seen the freshly wallpapered living room, smelled the drying paint, and she'd run her fingers along the new countertops the new landlord had installed. You were sweet to Ilsa the entire time, giving her the little information you had about Simon Faust, the elderly gentleman that had passed on from complications related to kidney failure, as well as a few tenants in between. The tea you served was made the proper English way, with loose tea leaves in a metal tea strainer, left to steep in a pot for five minutes while Ilsa had chatted with you. The sugar cubes you offered were sickly sweet, just like you. None of it would have made Ilsa do what she did next, none of it would have been something she'd dwell on at all, had you not touched her.
You'd given a soft squeeze to her shoulder as you bade her farewell at the door. A tender touch, full of trust, goodwill, kindness. Not too many people trusted Ilsa enough to touch her like that. In her line of work people didn't touch. A hand for support, a brief handshake for introduction, but mostly punches, slaps; hands wielded like weapons to leave bruises at the bare minimum, to end her life in the extremes. A kind touch was unheard of in her past life. With one small gesture, you had given Ilsa a taste of the life she'd given up working for MI6. It was this touch that ruined her; that made her ravenous for more.
That's why she was in front of her computer, browsing the cameras she'd placed inside your home. Hundreds of cameras to capture you from every angle as your hands worked. Those hands, petting your cat, watering your plants, cooking dinner (breakfast, lunch), touching anything and everything in that gentle way of yours. Those hands that soaped up your body in the shower, scrubbing yourself clean after a long day, those hands that lingered in the valley of your breasts and over the soft expanse of your stomach and roved over your bare thighs.
Those hands.
Tonight Ilsa was in for her favorite treat. You were tired, shifting uncomfortably, but not quite satisfied with something about yourself. Ilsa opened up a period recording app, tracking your cycle. She'd set this up this early on. It was interesting how predictable your behavior was in relation to your cycle; fascinating, truly. She smirked with glee. You were ovulating tomorrow. No wonder you were so uncomfortable.
'Feeling extra uptight, princess?' Ilsa whispered as she watched you squirm. 'Gonna give me a show?'
You gave in after five minutes. Phone down, reaching into your bedside table, bringing out that tiny little vibrator of yours that you adored. Ilsa had seen you use it a few times, but you used it most frequently during this window of heightened hormonal activity. You browsed on your phone, bringing up a cute little story. One of your 'fanfictions'. Ilsa could open your phone's software and see what you were reading if she really wanted to, but she didn't. Not now, anyways. She watched in excitement as you pulled your pajama pants down your legs, underwear too. Ilsa bit her lip. If you were taking them off all the way, this was going to be a good show.
The vibrator buzzed quietly. She watched in anticipation as you placed it against your clit, the soft gasp when you did.
'Princess, I might need to join in on this.' Ilsa smirked, crossing and uncrossing her legs.
You swiped through your phone reading avidly as the buzz continued. Your hips would wriggle a little, and you'd let out a soft 'hmm' or a breathy 'hihch' every once in a while, but that was it. Ilsa knew you weren't vocal. No, you were quiet. Ilsa shifted in her seat as you increased the vibrator's speed. She watched breathlessly as you seemed to be getting more into whatever you were reading.
'Oh, princess, now I know you're the quiet type, but you're putting on a show.' Ilsa whispered to the screen, eyes dilated.
She watched as your eyes rolled back and you panted quickly, going rigid for a few moments and then relaxing. The vibrator was back in the drawer before Ilsa had taken her jeans all the way off.
"No, damn it!' Ilsa slammed her fist on her desk. 'You're not playing fair, we're supposed to do it together!'
She watched as you walked into the bathroom, sitting on the toilet and peeing. Ilsa groaned, slapping her mouse on the pad, browsing through her stored videos. She found her favorite of you, the shower video. It was sixteen minutes long, eye candy for the intense voyeur that Ilsa had become. The setting of the video was sensual. You were in your shower, and you'd set up candles, a singular soft light illuminating the otherwise candlelit bathroom. Your hair was tied up to prevent it getting wet, and all your movements were slow. You started out carefully, using that expensive bar soap you'd bought, lathering up your arms and legs, moving slowly. Ilsa groaned at the sight, pulling her panties down her legs, running her thumbs up and down her inner thighs.
You reached for that special scrub you bought, the expensive shit. She watched as you exfoliated, paying special attention to your breasts and your ass. Ilsa moaned at the sight, starting to rub slow circles around her clit. You rinsed the scrub off, shaving your legs and your armpits. Ilsa moved her fingers slightly faster as she watched, you were propping your legs up one at a time, and that angle was spectacular. Ilsa felt herself moving too close to orgasm too quickly, so she moved her fingers down, circling her entrance, dipping her fingers in carefully. She didn't want to orgasm yet, not when the main act was just starting.
Ilsa watched in silent awe as you reached for the shower head. It was new, another addition you'd added sometime ago, before Ilsa. You carefully adjusted the setting until the pulse of water was thin and violent. Your water pressure was too high, so you unscrewed the shower head just a titch. One leg on the shower ledge, the other straight, albeit barely bent, and when the water hit your clit just right, you allowed yourself to moan. Ilsa let out her own breathy moan in response, her fingers rubbing that spongey spot inside her while she used her other hand to rub her clit. She bit her lip as she watched your thighs shake, one of your hands slamming against the shower wall, keeping yourself up. Finally, it happened. You let out a soft series of gasps and whines, your leg shaking as you came.
The sight of that, the sound, the angles of the cameras, it was enough to get Ilsa orgasming. She let out her own quick pants and soft moans as she rubbed her clit furiously, working herself through that high. The video ended with you gently running a softer stream of water between your labia, rinsing everything clean.
'Divine.' Ilsa let out a breathy chuckle.
Flipping tabs, Ilsa returned to checking up on you, skimming the video feed. You hadn't done anything interesting in the sixteen minutes she'd been replaying your best performance yet. You'd done a few housekeeping things such as returning to clean your vibrator, remake the bed, change your panties.
Your panties.
Ilsa switched cameras, zooming on them. They were soaked, caused by ovulation no doubt. Ilsa bit her lip, envisioning just how wet they would feel in between her fingertips. You looked tired, throwing the panties into your laundry basket. Your exhaustion was to be expected. Ilsa had ensured that you would always be ready to sleep at a set time; she'd switched your vitamins you'd take at night with sleep aids. You wouldn't know the difference, they looked the same as your iron pill, and you weren't tasting them to know the difference.
Ilsa smiled, pulling up her pants, grabbing the key she'd had made for your home. You were a silly girl, leaving that spare key in the flowerpot for when your Mom came over. It was a three hour errand to go to the locksmith, and no one ever asked a polite English lady about why the key was a spare instead of the original.
She slipped into your house through the back door, walking nonchalantly. Your neighbors didn't pay attention to who you had over anyways. Ilsa had talked to them a few times. They smoked too much weed to remember her, asking for her name everytime. Upon slipping in, she fed your cat a small treat. The 'Temptations' kind.
'Gonna stay quiet for me pretty girl? Yes you are.' Ilsa whispered, petting the cat until she purred, leaving a few treats to keep her occupied.
Slipping up the stairs, Ilsa quietly walked into your room, smiling at your slumbering face. Opening your closet, she grabbed those still wet panties, rubbing her fingers over the slick. Ilsa pocketed them. Ditsy girl you were, always forgetting which pairs of underwear you'd worn and which ones you hadn't. Ilsa creeped up to your bed, touching your sleeping form. You were too sleepy to notice, with your special pill and all.
'Hi princess. Don't you know better than to tease me like that? Your performance today wasn't all that stimulating.' Ilsa quietly cooed.
Taking your limp body in her arms, Ilsa was tempted to touch your new pair of panties, to see if they were wet, but she felt like that wasn't necessary. Besides, she wanted you to be awake the first time you two were together. She wasn't into fucking people when they were asleep; Ilsa didn't like how quiet they were. Besides, she'd already gotten off today. Ilsa decided on pulling you into her lap, cradling you quietly. She took one of your hands in hers, squeezing gently.
'Love these hands. Such gentle hands you've got.'
Ilsa kissed your face softly, but not your lips. No, she wanted you to be awake for that. She wanted you to remember Ilsa when she finally decided to make her move. But it wasn't time for that yet. Ilsa simply wasn't finished making the perfect person for you to love.
<----------------------------->
#ilsa faust#ilsa faust x reader#ilsa faust x you#ilsa faust x reader smut#rebecca ferguson#rebecca ferguson x reader#rebecca ferguson x you#mission impossible#lesbian#wlw#sapphic#dark writing
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The Guild's actions during the story are so insane, when you think about them properly, you know? When I first read the arc with them, this moment hasn't really occurred to me, as I was too busy going nuts over finally seeing the names of the familiar writers, but now when I think of that... I am not sure, I comprehend how they managed to achieve such a ferocious reputation. I have already made a little post about how extremely dysfunctional the DOA members are, but at least those guys have a plan, which actually makes sense more or less, even despite the gang using cheatcodes/the Book. The same cannot be said of the Guild however archghhjkn. Like, what the hell were these guys even doing??? XD
So here are just some moments, which weirded me out the most
At first I'd like to address the entire story with everyone's favorite tsundere, Lucy Maud Montgomery. Her introduction leaves quuuuite an impression in the best way and nothing makes me happier than the fact, that she gets a chance to find happiness in the following chapters and actually becomes a reoccurring character! HOWEVER, her entire involvement with the Guild is super odd... I still can't wrap my head around her getting fired. She is a girl with a hella powerful ability, who got taken to the Guild from a terrible, terrible orphanage in order to fight for them in the war for the Book, so not only is she very strong, but she's also immensely dependant on the organisation and wouldn't do anything outside of its interests. Yet Lucy is also put under extreme pressure. As she herself puts it, the Guild doesn't tolerate failures and will kick her out the moment she screws something up.
Later we see that this is exactly what happens, when she messes up her first mission. Fitzgerald himself confirms that, since she failed and revealed her ability to the enemies, she's no longer useful, so now a powerful esper, like Lucy works for free as a... laundress?
EXCUSE ME??? WHEN HAVE THE GUILD MEMBERS EVER DONE ANYTHING, BUT FAIL AND REVEAL THEIR ABILITIES?
Let's be real, these dudes were successful like only once or twice...
This fact not only makes Fitzgerald look like an idiot for wasting such a talented and useful worker, because of one mistake, but also as one hell of a hypocrite, cause he is more than fine with everyone else fucking up. And in case of Lovecraft and Steinbeck: fucking up twice. To add to the oddity, we later learn, that Louisa genuinely cares for Lucy and despite her social anxiety actually stood up for her during the entire story, but even that wasn't enough to change Fitzgerald's mind on the issue, though Louisa is one of the few people, whose opinion he respects. Honestly, this is such a waste of a truly useful subordinate. And speaking of which....
The Guild has never even tried to implement Edgar Allan Poe during the war...
This man is actually rather op when you think of it. He can capture and neutralise literally any ability user in Yokohama (besides Dazai, Mori and Ranpo ofc) just by throwing a book at them. Seriously, as we see with Chuuya, they don't even have to read it, they just need to see the pages. Plus the book can be actually sent via email!!! So why has there been an absolute zero amount of strategies with the use of this ability??? They could actually try to catch Atsushi by sending him such email containing any of Poe's mystery stories and then safely carry him back to their base. And it doesn't have to be just Atsushi, it could be literally any of their enemies. Non-combatant, like Ranpo could use this pretty damn well to his advantage and it doesn't take a genius to understand the potential of the "Black Cat in Rue Morgue". But nooooo, it seems like everyone has just forgotten of Poe!!! (Tho to be honest, I can actually see this situation in a funny extra awfgbfggfjj. Not the main story however) The agency would never even learn of his existence, if he didn't personally decide to try to fuck Ranpo's life up. Like, what does Poe even do in the Guild? He's the master architect and, according to him, the third ranking man in the organization, but we never see him be of any use, so Idk. 🤷🏻♀️ Lucy at least got to do something, unlike this poor man.
Then there's the entire drama with the Guild's decision to destroy Yokohama. Where do I even begin...
First of all, Fitzgerald has no way of knowing that Atsushi is going to come to Moby-Dick to fight him. Poor guy is the Guild's primary goal and has already gotten himself captured once, so it would have been safe to assume that the ADA decided to hide him somewhere and not send him on any dangerous missions for the time being. That basically means Fitzgerald could have burned down not just Yokohama, but also the only person, who could actually help him find his precious Book.
But if we're to ignore this, let's also go with Wikipedia then~
"Yokohama is the second-largest city in Japan by population and the most populous municipality of Japan. It is the capital city and the most populous city in Kanagawa Prefecture, with a 2020 population of 3.8 million. It lies on Tokyo Bay, south of Tokyo, in the Kantō region of the main island of Honshu. Yokohama is also the major economic, cultural, and commercial hub of the Greater Tokyo Area along the Keihin Industrial Zone."
..........................
Good luck making up for the destruction of THIS, Fitzgerald 🖕
And if this in itself wasn't bad enough, most people, including me, tend to forget that all Guild members are actually big shots in the American government, which I think is very sad. Because first of all, can you imagine any of the Guild members actually working as politicians?!! The sheer idea makes me hysterical avshbgj. Like, just consider Lovecraft working as a senator or something. This eldritch horror of a man leaves the ocean once in three years at best LMAO. Second of all, I have a feeling, that the destruction of Yokohama at the hands of influential politicians from a foreign country would have resulted in an international conflict or two~ Like as if random deranged rich Americans arriving in Japan, wreaking havoc over there and destroying the second largest city in the country wasn't bad enough, these Americans just HAD to be super influential businessmen and politicians. Louisa, my dear, I understand that it wasn't your intention, but it's as close to a declaration of war as it can get, you know? Fitzgerald may be ready to do anything to resurrect his dead daughter, but I'm not sure, that the execution of himself and the rest of the Guild at the hands of the Hunting Dogs is something he'd like.
(And here's another funny thing that stems from them being politicians 🤭 As @originalartblog wittily pointed out, Fitzgerald wasting all his money fighting sskk has probably resulted in a market crash and recession over in the USA)
I also have some other questions in regards to this entire plan, such as why did they have to waste Moby-Dick just to destroy Yokohama? Yes, it works in the short term, but in the long term they loose a super powerful fortress with the stealth mode and as the practice shows, you better have a safe base, unless you want another lemon freak to blow it all up. I mean, you could just ask Lovecraft to destroy everything for free. Or, if the device is the only way to stop the giant whale from crashing, why didn't Fitzgerald just take it to a far away bunker or something and waited things out there without the need to spend millions of dollars just to survive the explosion? (And it would have been extremely funny, if during the fight with sskk he just threw the device overboard) But I think I have already rambled for long enough already atxhghbgv XD
The Guild is an even bigger mess than the DOA and I think that's glorious 🙌
#the guys stole mafia's building once just to show off and nobody has ever brought it up again#if that's not a true definition of hilarious I don’t know what is 🤭#bsd fitzgerald#bsd lucy#bsd louisa#bsd poe#bsd lovecraft#bsd guild#bsd#bungo stray dogs#bungou stray dogs#bsd meta#sort of#bsd francis#bsd spoilers#ticklinglady talks
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